#I FEEL STUPID AHHHHHHH

[gremlin-boah]

I wish Arthur could have a little foal to interact with, since he loves his horsie

Jus bois lovin their lil horsies

Kieran what.

[killuaisaprincess]

🌈🩷🌈🩷🌈

[hersweetrevenge]

rohan campbell as corey cunningham [X]

[that-was-anticlimactic]

i feel a wisdom tooth coming in. i am terrified. i am genuinely so scared of getting them removed😭 and i’ve been procrastinating bc it scares me so much😭

[carrotpiss]

🐰🧡🐻

[transmasc-tabris]

Truly wish I didn't write at a literal snail pace.

[phagodyke]

urgh.. trying to troubleshoot an assay while my mind feels frozen in amber..its not happening

[teencopandthesourwolf]

read on ao3 HERE

.

He didn't mean to do it. He meant it, with every fucked-up fibre of his being he meant it, but he didn't mean to actually do it. 

Stiles had just—been so very fucking Stiles, in that stupid, irresponsible jump-head-first-into-the fray-on-everybody-else's-behalf kind of way that he has about him, and after the pack had neutralised the danger but everybody's veins still had more adrenaline than blood coursing though them, Derek felt—feels—so fucking livid, and so damn grateful, and so utterly, utterly muddled that he's grabbed Stiles by the shoulders and is pulling the kid's body into his own, hard, crashing their torsos together like a devastating highway collision, arms enveloping Stiles's shoulders as a crushed car bonnet wraps itself around a tree. 

Now—here, at a clearing in the trees on what has been Hale land for generations going back centuries, with Stiles in his space, and his nostrils, and in his fucking head—Derek is terrified. 

There's a fairly stilted, “Whoa, okay, alright, we're doing this, huh, big guy?” but then Stiles is relaxing into the hug. He sort of melts, actually, snaking long and wiry yet surprisingly strong arms around Derek's waist; so very warm, and alive, alive, alive.

“Stiles, you shouldn't have—why do you always have to—you could've fucking died!” he admonishes, although it doesn't come out half as harshly as he means and wants it to. 

Lost, Derek shoves his nose into Stiles's neck, and breathes.

Stiles lets him, because of course he does, cocking his head to the side to accommodate Derek's needs.

“Must be a day that ends in Y, huh, Der?” he answers, ever the class clown.

Derek quietly growls his annoyance and relief in equal measure, and even though he senses the rest of the pack has now gathered around them, and hating that he has an audience for this, he squeezes Stiles into him impossibly more.

Stiles wheezes comically, then jokes more, because humour is his default in any situation. “Why don't you ease up a bit there, buddy? Kinda need this work of art that I call a body in one piece if I'm ever gonna save your wolfy-ass again, oh alpha, my alpha.”

Derek shuts him up with a slick lick to the jugular. The kid shivers beautifully, but even Derek's tongue doesn't keep him quiet for long. Only Stiles Stilinski could ramble incessantly with a werewolf at his throat. 

“Okay, shit, that—ahhhhhhh, that tickles, Fido! Do I need to get the collar and chain on y—oh my fucking god!”

Derek clamps his jaws around the most exquisite throat he's ever seen, smelled, dreamed about, and growls out a warning sound that causes the betas to back off and Stiles to go weak at the knees.

Mine, he thinks loudly.

After a few moments of Derek gnawing on Stiles's throat, once they're alone in the preserve, other than the nocturnal animals and eery sound of the wind picking up from the west, Derek releases his jaws' hold on the sheriff's boy—the boy who runs with wolves; little red riding hoodie; the best human Derek's ever known—and soothes the purpling mark with a lingering press of his lips.

“Oh!” is amazingly all Stiles has got—although Derek can satisfyingly smell Stiles's arousal, his wolf now howling inside of him at the delicious scent.

“Yeah, oh,” he answers, after trying his level best to calm the feral instinct he has to pull them both down into the undergrowth and mate the boy.

He finally pulls away from Stiles, but doesn't release him from his grip entirely. Fire-red irises find big, brown doe eyes, and a smirk that Derek wants to lick right off Stiles's face and replace with a look of pure ecstasy.

“Stop doing stupid things,” he demands.

Begs. 

“Yeah, no, probably never gonna—oomph!” 

Derek kisses Stiles, kisses him like it's the end of the fucking world because he's realised that every time Stiles puts his own life in danger, it feels like it might be.

Stiles doesn't hesitate this time, though. He kisses Derek right back like he gets it.

Now found, Derek takes, and he takes, and he takes.

Stiles kisses like nobody else in existence, Derek is sure of it; he is earth and wind, fire and water.

Fucking elemental. 

When he presumably needs to breathe, Stiles tears his lips away from Derek's—swollen and blood-red—and Derek can't help the whine that escapes his. Their foreheads bump as they both pant, attempting to settle as they shake with post-fight waning nerves and a feverish desire.

Stiles says, “How ‘bout if you keep doing that, I'll get myself a bigger bat?”

Derek both hates and loves the smile that spreads across his face like a rash, entirely of its own volition. 

“How about next time, you just wait for me?” 

“Deal,” Stiles grins and kisses Derek again, and Derek hopes it's the kind of deal that's forever.

.

for @greyhavenisback—love yew, love <3 (unedited, soz!)

.

now edited and on ao3 HERE

[xoxochb]

okay okay hold on hear me out- guitarist percy :0 like.... sitting on his lap while he tunes/fixes his guitar (his hands AHHHHHHH-) and it turns into y'all doing things idk go wild also if ur taking emoji anons can I be 🪐 or 🐾 anon? ty lovely! :D

you can be whichever emoji, I don’t have either of them yet :)

cw: fingering, overstimulation-ish, thigh riding, swearing, percy is mean and teases reader, n this might be the longest smut fic I’ve ever written tbh…

——— ౨ৎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

you’re pretty sure he’s aware of what he’s doing to you. it’s utterly tantalizing watching percy tune his guitar so deliberately with his calloused fingers, at the mere thought you feel a rush of pooling heat in your core. your arms tighten around his shoulders at this— yet he does nothing to stop his movements with the stupid guitar. It makes you jealous that an inanimate object is receiving more attention than you are, and that he’s handling it with care. you grow father frustrated.

though you don’t say anything in hopes he’ll realize himself. but you’re pretty sure he’s far to oblivious to notice that you’re internally fighting your hormone demons. you shift your position on his lap so one of his thighs rests between your legs, the sudden patting of your own thighs having you realize the wetness of your poor panties. percy adjusts his arm around your waist with your new position, still keeping you close to him while his eyes never leave the instrument.

slowly, you begin to grind your hips, barely, but just enough for you to feel even a tad bit of friction. with your sudden movements, percy at last looks up to you.

“you alright, sweet girl?”

you nod. “‘m fine. continue.”

he knows that’s a lie. for first, your cheeks flush a pink hue and he can feel the progressive ragged rate of your breathing growing faster with every thrust of your hips along his thigh. you watch as his fingers still toy around with the guitar, having your hips move at a faster pace the more you look. you can’t help the soft whimper that escapes your lips at this point. it’s growing unbearable for you to handle.

“perce… can- will you-”

what you’re trying to say is beyond your capacity of understanding at the moment. the words quickly diminish off your tongue as soon as they come out. percy understands what you’re trying to get at, however, laughing and tossing (placing— whatever) his guitar to the side, placing both of his hands now on your waist as you continue grinding along him.

teasingly, he begins pecking along your neck, only adding onto the heat between your thighs. bitch. and you’re sure he’s aware of what he’s doing to you because at this point your intentions are entirely obvious and blatant. you manage to ask him once again to do something. he obliges to your advances and tugs down the zipper of your denim shorts, yet this isn’t enough, you plead for him to hurry his pace.

when he eventually manages to slip your shorts off, his hand instantly finds itself running along your clothed clit— and not to his surprise your lacy panties are drenched.

“gods, you’re soaked.”

“no fucking shit. I wonder why.”

percy laughs again at your clear frustration with him, kissing your jaw now. at a second slow rate he slides those off now too, shoving them into his pocket. you shudder at this. his finger trails from your waist, your hip, and down to your inner thigh, tormenting you with a light brush over your clit.

“percy… please.”

“have patience, sweet girl.”

you dig your nails into his skin in retaliation. he doesn’t react and goes on with his movements. absentmindedly, you whisper quiet begs into his ear until he gives into you and plugs a singular finger into you. you moan from pure pleasure, dipping your head onto his shoulder. your brain grows fuzzy like television static— you practically hear it too.

“perce- fuck- I…”

you’re not entirely sure what you were trying to say. but regardless of this, percy plugs a second finger into you, curling them in a way that makes your tummy twist into knots. you clench around his fingers and in return feel his smile against the skin of your neck. you grind into them as they reach a deeper portion of your insides, trying to reach your climax as you feel it creeping upon you. and percy doesn’t stop for a second, it makes your whole body burn with the sensation of utter pleasure.

your legs nearly give out from the trouble of holding yourself up with them. you’re sure they’ll hurt tomorrow. and not only are your legs a problem, you can’t fucking breathe, concentrate, function properly, do anything in fact, if you’re being completely honest. not until, mocking the trolly problem, like they conductor— in this case percy— had chose to hit you instead of five other people, your orgasm hits you.

you fist a handful of his shirt sleeves into your palms as you ride out the feeling— trying to prolong it as long as you possibly can before his fingers leave you (wanting more, ultimately). panting, you lift your head up to see percy who licks his fingers clean, you let out a quiet moan at the mere idea of that. his hands return, now, back around your waist to steady you as you come down from your high.

“doin’ alright, sweet girl?”

actually, no, you’re entirely wrecked. but it’s better to know that he chose to finger you instead of the damn guitar.

[chvoswxtch]

part one: the call

[series masterlist] | [part two]

pairing: billy russo x fem!reader

summary: a ghost from the past has returned.

warnings: swearing, angst, mentions of murder, creepy sleazy boss & brief mentions of sexual harassment, billy being the cocky lil shit he is

word count: 3.8k

a/n: ahhhhhhh! i've been working on this for the past few months & i'm so excited to finally put it out. I really really really hope y'all enjoy it. this is only 6 parts, so it will not be a slow burn. it's gonna get intense fast. also, there is an oc name mentioned, but it's just for the backstory of the plot. this is still a self insert, & y/n will be used for the rest of the story! without further ado, let's get this spooky slutty season started. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

This was a bad dream. It had to be. There was no other logical way to explain why you were currently sitting in an interrogation room at a precinct, being questioned by police about a man that you had gone on a blind date with not even twelve hours ago, who had been found stabbed to death in an alley two blocks away from your apartment building.

It was just a nightmare. It wasn’t real. All you had to do was open your eyes, and this would all go away. You knew how to deal with nightmares. You knew how to escape them. You’d been running and hiding from them your whole life. All you had to do was open your eyes, and the sinister shadows wouldn't be able to sink their claws into your subconscious to trap you in the dark. Just open them, and this will all disappear. 

Just open your eyes.

“Miss Y/L/N?”

The detective’s voice swiftly brought you out of the trance of denial your mind had wandered into, and your eyes snapped open. To your dismay, nothing changed. The two detectives were still sitting across the table from you, the metal cold against your sweaty palms, one eying you warily while the other regarded you with a more sympathetic stare. The chair beneath you was still stiff and uncomfortable, the light above was still a harsh shade of artificial brightness, and the large piece of glass to your right that reflected your terrified expression still made you feel unsettled knowing there was someone watching you just on the other side of that two-way pane.

“I…I’m sorry. What was the question?”

The waver in your voice gave away how shaken you were by the whole ordeal. When the police had shown up at your office an hour ago stating they needed to bring you in for questioning regarding the murder of Adam Mercer, shock had instantly shot through your entire nervous system, chilling the very blood in your veins with an icy sense of dread. 

This was the kind of thing you heard about happening in the news. A tragedy that struck someone else’s life. A nameless, faceless person whose existence you were unaware of. It was the kind of thing nobody ever thought could happen to them, until it did.

The older detective, the more commiserating one, had said they thought it was some kind of mugging gone wrong. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence in New York City, unfortunately. The dazzling city was also dangerous. But since you were the last person to see Adam alive, they needed as much information as you could give them about the last few hours of his life. For some odd reason, it filled you with a sense of guilt that his final moments had been spent with you, a complete stranger, instead of someone else. 

Adam had been a really nice guy. He’d seemed to enjoy the date. He’d thrown his head back and laughed like a little kid at a stupid joke you’d told. He’d flashed you a charming smile when you’d nearly knocked your glass of wine over into your pasta. He’d animatedly told you about his family’s tradition of selecting a perfect tree together at a local Christmas farm back in his home state of Jersey every holiday season. He’d been sweet and gentle and respectful. But had he been happy? 

Had he succumbed to the inevitable fate of death at his attacker’s hands without a fight? Did he even see it coming? Had he had that moment, where everything flashed before his eyes, all his mistakes, all his regrets, all the would’ve, could’ve, should'ves? 

You knew what that feeling was like. You’d been there, once before. Nothing makes you want to live more than Death deciding to show up at your door and pick the lock with its cold, bony fingers to collect a bounty early. 

Thirteen times. Adam had been brutally stabbed thirteen times. It was excessive for a mugging. It felt more personal, that kind of anger and passion. As morbid as the thought was, you hoped the first one had killed him. You hoped he that went into shock swiftly and bled out just as fast so he hadn’t suffered through the next twelve.

Holding his pen in his right hand, the tip hovering over his worn yellow pocket sized notepad, Detective Craven repeated his question.

“How well did you know Adam?”

“I…I didn’t. I’d never met him until last night. My roommate um…she knew him. She’s the one who set us up.”

“Your roommate being Miss Riley?”

Detective Williamson had his hands clasped together in front of him on the table. He lifted one of his brows while waiting for you to answer his question. Swallowing thickly, you gave a faint nod of your head and dropped your hands to your lap, fidgeting with them under the table anxiously. 

“Yeah, Annie.”

Detective Craven cleared his throat, reading over his notes with his honey brown eyes as he continued his questioning.

“Now, you said he picked you up at your apartment around eight-thirty, the two of you had dinner at Maureen’s, and then he dropped you back off at your place around eleven. He left right after that?”

“Yeah, he…um…we said goodnight, he said he’d like to see me again, and then he told me he’d call me tomorrow.”

“He didn’t come up to your apartment at all?”

Detective Williamson didn’t bother hiding the skepticism in his voice, or the implication behind his words, his icy blue eyes locked on you in an almost unsettling way.

“No, he dropped me off at the front steps of the building.”

“And you didn’t see where he went when he left? Didn’t give him one last look after a goodnight kiss?”

A flash of annoyance broke through your stunned disbelief at the invasive second question. You hadn’t said anything about a kiss. The younger detective seemed to be fishing for a crack in your alibi for some reason, trying to catch you in a lie that didn’t exist. A flicker of defensiveness crept into your voice when you spoke.

“No, after we said goodnight, I went inside.”

Before Detective Williamson could ask another thinly veiled judgmental question, Detective Craven stood up, shooting his partner a silencing look. Glancing down at you with a warmer expression, the older man gestured towards the door with his hand.

“That’s all the questions we have for now. We appreciate you speaking with us. I’ll walk you out.”

The precinct was bustling. Various murmurs of conversation buzzed in your ears. People were breezing past in every direction, but amidst the sea of chaos, you spotted a familiar head of blonde hair. Annie jumped up from the chair she’d been sitting in and forced her way through the waves of people, not once muttering an “excuse me” or waiting for someone to move out of her way. A true New Yorker.

Detective Craven placed his hand on your shoulder to get your attention and held out a white business card that had all of his information on it in embossed black text.

“If you can think of anything else that might be helpful, don’t hesitate to call.”

Taking the card into your hand, you looked up at him and forced a tight smile onto your lips, giving him a faint nod of your head.

“Of course.”

After giving your shoulder a light squeeze, Detective Craven gave Annie a nod of acknowledgement before turning and disappearing back inside the interrogation room. As soon as you turned to face her, Annie’s face contorted into an expression of pity and concern. She immediately pulled you into a hug, and it took everything in you not to crumble under the weight of your own overwhelming emotions.

“Come on, let’s go home.”

»»———　　———««

Annie had swiftly shot down your plan to go back to work before the words could even fully leave your lips. All you wanted to do was dive head first into a distraction, to immerse yourself fully in the piles of paper and black ink sitting on your desk that were waiting to transport you to another universe and into the body of someone else whose world hadn’t just been flipped upside down. Again. 

Instead, she brought you back to your shared apartment, uncorked a bottle of wine for each of you, and did her best to help you sort through the shock and the ripples it caused within you. She didn’t understand that your instinct was to run and hide, and that was because she didn’t understand you, not really. But that wasn’t her fault. She could only understand what you allowed her to, and there were huge pieces of yourself you kept hidden from her and everyone else beneath carefully crafted layers.

Pieces you were not ready to uncover and face yet.

The following morning when you showed up to work at the publishing house, it felt like everyone was looking through you instead of at you. Everyone had heard what happened, had seen the two detectives escorting you out of your office, but none of your coworkers said a word. Not to your face, anyway. You could feel the weight of their lingering stares, their hushed whispers floating past your ear like a cold autumn breeze. It was a familiar territory you’d already escaped once.

To your relief, you hadn’t been harassed by reporters wanting an exclusive on the story. Unfortunately, crimes like what had happened to Adam were a dime a dozen in this city. You felt guilty for feeling grateful for that, but not having cameras shoved in your face to be broadcast on news outlets that circulated on social media worked in your favor. You had come to the city that millions of people called home for a reason. You came here to disappear, to be invisible. The last thing you needed was to be thrust into a spotlight that would attract attention you’d gone to great lengths to avoid.

In the midst of trying to drown out the white noise of suspicious gossip and ignoring the way the stares penetrating the glass windows of your office made your insides twist in dreaded knots, you almost missed the sound of a knock at your door. Lifting your head, you were met with the sight of the last person you ever expected to see standing in the doorway.

Billy Russo.

He was significantly more dressed up than the last time you’d seen him, looking every bit the illustrious CEO, although that signature arrogant smirk of his seemed to be missing for once. His tall frame was covered in a deep navy blue three piece suit with a crisp white dress shirt beneath the matching tie, a dark charcoal gray thick coat layering over top. His raven hair was gelled back perfectly, just like it was that night at the bar, but the gleam of mischief in his dark brown eyes was absent. As he stood in the doorway of your office, nearly taking up the entire frame, he seemed to be looking at you in an expression of something that resembled concern.

“Billy.”

The surprise in your hushed tone rang clear in the quiet of your office. Billy removed the black leather gloves from his hands, slipping them into the pocket of his overcoat.

“This a bad time?”

Your lips parted slightly as your eyes flickered down to the open manuscript on your desk before looking up at him again.

“Um…no. No…I…what are you doing here?”

Billy took a step forward into your office and quietly closed the door behind himself.

“Just came by to check on ya.”

“Check on me?”

“Derek told me what happened.”

Billy kept his eyes locked on you as he explained the reasoning behind his unexpected visit, watching you closely.

Derek Becker was a friend of Billy’s. They had served in the military together, and he now worked for Billy’s private security company, Anvil. Derek also happened to be Annie’s boyfriend. A few months back, the two of them had tried to set you and Billy up. The four of you had gone out to a bar for drinks, but instead of hitting it off with Billy, you’d found him narcissistic, and you’d had no interest in pursuing anything romantic with him. Although, based on how he had interacted with you that night, it had seemed like he hadn’t been looking for anything romantic either, just a night of physical release.

Because Annie was your best friend and roommate, and Derek was often around, you’d seen Billy a few times since then, but it wasn’t like the two of you were friends. Needless to say, the fact that he’d made the trip to your office to check on your mental wellbeing was a bit of a shock.

“I’m fine.”

Billy arched one of his dark brows, and the ghost of a smile graced the edge of his lips.

“You almost sounded like you meant that.”

You opened your mouth to fire back a retort, to protest the underlying accusation in his words, but your defense got stuck in your throat. Seeing the look on your face, Billy’s faint amusement quickly disappeared, and he let out a deep exhale through his nose as he took a few steps closer towards your desk.

“I’m sorry, I’m not here to be a dick. But it’s alright if you’re not fine. Normal people wouldn’t be fine in this situation.”

“Normal people?”

Billy stared down at you for a moment silently before turning his head to look out the glass window of your office, rubbing his large palm over his mouth and perfectly trimmed beard. Looking down at you again, a flicker of amusement was back in his gaze, and there was a hint of a smile on his lips.

“I got a real good habit of sayin’ the wrong thing with you, huh?”

The self deprecation you detected in his smooth voice surprised you. You’d never heard him say anything that didn’t have an undertone of superiority or didn’t sound prideful. The guy standing in front of you wasn’t acting like the cocky rich playboy you were used to, and it made you wonder for a second if that’s what it really was; an act. A flicker of newfound curiosity had you wondering if Billy’s persona was as carefully crafted as your own.

“I don’t know if I’d call that a good habit.”

Billy let out a puff of air past his lips, giving a faint shake of his head in faux disapproval.

“Kickin’ a man while he’s down? That’s ruthless, sweetheart.”

“I think your ego can survive being knocked down a few pegs.”

Billy let out a deep chuckle at that, and his lips spread into a wolfish grin.

“Between you and me, it’s a bit more fragile than you think.”

You looked at him in faux shock, an overly dramatic gasp leaving your lips.

“What? You mean the ego you overcompensate for with designer clothes and fancy cars is delicate?”

Billy rolled his eyes and held his hand up in a gesture of surrender.

“Alright, alright. I get it. You’ve kept me humble enough for one day.”

To your surprise, and to Billy’s, you smiled. It was small, but it was real and genuine. Billy’s impromptu visit was the last thing you expected to provide a lighthearted distraction to the whirlwind of chaos that had been plaguing you since yesterday. 

As much as you hadn’t been able to stand him the night you met him, you couldn’t deny that the banter between you came effortlessly. Within the first five minutes of meeting him, you’d called him a ‘self obsessed dumbass’, and instead of getting offended, he’d smiled. It had quickly launched into a battle of wits, who could come up with the more clever retort faster, and it only took half an hour for Derek and Annie to become exhausted, realizing they’d made a huge mistake and miscalculated their match making skills. Billy seemed to enjoy antagonizing you, and you couldn’t resist putting a man like him in his place.

Everytime the two of you were around each other, it was exactly the same. Just an endless cycle of unrequited flirting and unrestrained snark.

“Humble is not exactly a word I’d use to describe you, Russo.”

Before Billy could respond, your office door suddenly opened and your boss walked in, glancing between you and Billy in a mixture of curiosity and barely concealed displeasure. He seemed to size him up before turning his attention towards you, not so subtly letting his eyes roam over your figure sitting behind your desk in a way that made your skin crawl, which wasn’t missed by Billy. John gestured his head in Billy’s direction.

“Another detective?”

There was clear annoyance in John’s voice that didn’t go unnoticed by you. It wasn’t lost on Billy either, and his posture seemed to go rigid.

“No. No, um…friend.”

Friend. Using that word to describe Billy tasted foreign on your tongue, but Billy didn’t appear to react to it. His dark brown eyes sized John up in a similar fashion as your boss had done to him, only Billy didn’t even attempt to hide his judgment and lack of impression.

“You know, most people knock before just walkin’ in.”

Both yours and John’s heads turned towards Billy. You were momentarily stunned by the way Billy had so casually called out John’s abrupt intrusion, and John looked visibly irritated, but he turned to face Billy with a forced smile on his mouth.

“I don’t think we’ve met. I’m John Altieri. I own this publishing house.”

Unlike John, Billy didn’t plaster a fake smile on his face for politeness, or speak in a faux friendly tone. Maintaining eye contact, he reached out to grasp John’s outstretched hand with more firmness than necessary as he shook it.

“Billy Russo. I own the building.”

That bombshell had you sitting up straighter in your chair and blinking a few times in surprise. Billy owned the building? Since when? That was definitely news to you.

The smile on John’s face faltered for a moment, but he quickly recovered and nodded, trying to appear unphased by that revelation.

“Pleasure. If you don’t mind, I have some important things to discuss with Y/N/N. In private.”

Billy outwardly looked calm and collected, but you swore you saw a flicker of anger in his dark brown eyes. He didn’t seem to like hearing your boss refer to you with a nickname that was spoken with too saccharine of a tone for a superior to speak about their employee. Not that you liked it either. John seemed to always maintain a balance on that tightrope of not being inappropriate enough to report him to HR, but being too friendly for you to not feel uncomfortable. 

The bastard was clever, you’d give him that. He knew what he was doing. He was careful and cautious enough that it couldn’t be classified as textbook harassment, and could be argued as a simple misunderstanding. It made you want to stab him with your pen every time you caught him staring at your chest or your legs.

After letting a purposeful uncomfortable moment of silence pass, Billy looked down at John, that signature smirk you were used to seeing on his lips spreading slowly like a sun rising over the skyline.

“Of course.”

Turning his head to look at you again, Billy gave you a faint nod of his head and a wink.

“See ya later, sweetheart.”

Giving John one last final unimpressed and cold side eye, Billy pulled his leather gloves out of his overcoat pocket and turned to leave your office with a confident stride, leaving you and John alone in your office, and your mind swirling with a flurry of questions about Billy Russo.

»»———　　———««

By the time you walked through the front door of yours and Annie’s shared apartment, all you wanted was a hot shower and a few hours of sleep. You’d spent last night tossing and turning, haunted by the nightmare your life had once again turned into, and you felt the exhaustion in every cell of your body. Tossing your keys into the little green bowl on the side table by the front door, your footsteps were slow and sluggish as you headed down the hall on the left towards your bedroom.

Dropping your purse onto your bed, you sat down on the edge of it and slipped off your shoes, letting them drop on the hardwood floor with a soft thud. Letting out a deep exhale, you closed your eyes and hunched over, covering your face with both of your hands. The muffled noise of your ringtone began to sound from your purse. Dragging your palms down your face, you slipped one of your hands into your purse to dig for your phone blindly, absentmindedly hitting the answer button and bringing it to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Hello Y/N.”

The voice that sounded on the other end of the line wasn’t one you recognized. Pulling your phone away from your ear, you looked down at the lit screen and read “unknown caller”. A furrow creased between your brows as you brought your phone back up to your ear, running one of your hands through the roots of your hair to push it back.

“I’m sorry, who is this?”

“I guess your new boyfriend didn’t make the cut.”

Immediately your hand froze, and your eyes widened. A mix of confusion, disbelief, and anger coursed through you, but the latter won out.

“Excuse me?”

Your tone quickly shifted from one of puzzlement to pure fury as you sat up straighter. A sinister chuckle from the deep mysterious voice on the other end of the line further incensed you.

“Did you really think I’d let anyone else have you, Cassia?”

The phone slipped out of your hand, dropping to the floor below with a harsh sound that didn’t even register in your ears. A pit of dread opened up in your stomach, and fear trickled down your spine as if someone had started to trace the frozen sharp tip of an icicle along the back of your neck. Panic spread through your nervous system like a lit match to a dehydrated forest, and the four walls of your bedroom began to close in around you, squeezing the last breath of oxygen from your lungs.

No one in New York knew that name. 

You’d left it back in California, along with your past. The past that had forced you to run to the other side of the country and bury every trace of who you were before. The past that you tried so hard to forget and cover up with a new identity and a new life. The past that was taunting you from the other end of the line.

The past that had come back, and murdered Adam.

He’d found you.

tags: @thyme-in-a-bubble @ferns-fics @danzer8705 @to-thelakes @simonsgirl @sweetserendipity65 @zomtart @day-dreaming-goddess @caroblogsthings @thomasshelbyswife @snowkestrel @hallowedtangerine @ameliaswife @dreadfulxives18 @ebsmind @lllla717 @slumnit

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»— if you wanna get in the spooky slutty mood, listen here! -> the manhattan murders soundtrack

[dipperscavern]

was having some robb stark thoughts last night trying to fall asleep… sigh

you and robb usually rise in the mornings at the same time. queen & king in the north, you have duties to attend to that force you both out of bed earlier than you’d like. but sometimes, robb has to be up before you.

his weight dips down on the bed as he sits beside your sleeping form, fully clothed & ready to leave. he wants to let you sleep, knows you need your rest—but you’d kill him if he left without waking you up to say goodbye.

his hand comes to tuck your hair behind your ears, soft murmurs of your name rousing you from sleeps hold. he pulls his hand back as you open your eyes, both of you smiling at the sight of the other. you reach out, still half asleep, hand finding robb’s. he brings your hand to his mouth, kissing it as you look up at him—love etched in your pupils. you pull him closer, & robb chuckles at your neediness, voice warm & dripping like honey. he leans in, pressing chaste kisses to anywhere he can reach. he starts at your cheek, trailing down to your jaw and eventually your neck. each kiss grounds you firmer and firmer to the present, pulling you out from the hazy state sleep puts you in.

he eventually stops, resting his head in the crook of your shoulder. he closes his eyes, soaking up your presence before he has to become king in the north. right now he’s just robb, the man you grew up with at winterfell. your hand comes to run through his curls, as your other thumb massages lightly at his temple. he relaxes further into your touch, a groan rising from deep in his chest. robb’s body had been wound up tight during his time at war, as to be expected. the weight of his burdens sit heavy on his shoulders, long days of fighting not only lannister armies, but sometimes his own men—clouding his mind with headaches that only you seem to be able to relieve in the slightest.

“keep doin’ that and I won’t be able to get back up.”

he’s only teasing (he’s completely serious), making you laugh as you retract your thumb from his temple. his eyes flutter open, sighing at his own stupidity, wondering how he could ever ask you to stop making him feel good. his mind takes over, reminding him of his duties. if he doesn’t get up now, he surely won’t be making it out of this tent by high noon. he can already hear greywind rustling from his guard outside the entrance of the tent, warding off someone’s presence.

he gathers his wits, trailing kisses back up your neck. once he gets to your cheek, he even teases by placing a kiss at the corner of your mouth. he smiles at his own antics, proud of himself, before he presses his lips to yours. his hand comes to cradle your jaw, kissing you long & firm, as he sits up. your lips chase his, and he places a quick peck on your lips once more as he stands up. his hand leaves your jaw, and you could almost whine at the loss of his touch.

you watch him turn & walk away, he doesn’t turn around to look at you again, knowing if he does—he’s going right back into your arms. he grabs his sword, opening the flap of the tent & walking out. you stretch, content with his goodbye. you’ll get up in a few minutes, and you’ll see each other around the camp, but it’s the quiet mornings before the world wakes up that keeps you both sane. you smile, hearing robb & theons voices outside the tent as they walk away.

“what took you so long? greywind almost had me for a snack, you know.”

“would be a small meal.”

is screaming at your own writing something u shouldn’t admit cause AHHHHHHH. put me & him in a room tg & we BOTH walking out pregnant.

[renren-006]

Photo Worthy | Clark Kent (Superman) x fem reader

plot: one photograph leads to more than you bargined for.

a/n: More Henry Cavil the people!! ahhhhhhh he's just so good looking omg!!

One photo was all it took for not only your career to sky rocket but also your love life. 

You had been a freelance photographer for a few years, most of the time you took pictures for the Daily Planet. The pay rates for your photos were better than other companies and you didn't have a huge problem selling your photos to them over the other companies. 

This story however was the first you wrote and shot for. The story of Superman. You were one of the first to get a shot of him flying through the sky toward a burning building to save lives. Your story wrote itself and the photo was one of the best out there. When the Daily Planet ran your story and got tons of traction they took you off the market and plopped you into their newsroom as their person to go on scene for Superman-related things. Clark Kent seemed to think you had one of the best eyes for photography.  

“You have a good eye,” Clark said. He leaned over the little cubicle wall in the newsroom. You glanced up from your computer. A new picture of Superman on the screen. 

“You think so?” You asked. 

“Absolutely. You definitely take the best photos of Superman out of everyone in the city” Clark told you. 

“Wow. Thanks Clark” you said as you smiled up at him.

This started Clark's more frequent interactions with you and Superman's surprising knowledge of when and where you were when he was out and about. More frequently he started making sure only you got his good side. Clark visited your cubicle more and more at the same time, even inviting you to step out of the office for a bit and grab food. 

“You've been dropping in more and more into my cubicle,” you told him, “I only started here a few months ago and I feel like I've seen more of you in the last few weeks. Why's that?” Your question caused a bit of a choke from Clark who had to contain himself. The two of you sat on a bench in the park around the corner from the office, burritos in hand. 

“I…I like your work and as a fellow photographer I wanted to get to know you” he said, slightly unsure of himself and his answer.

“Your a bad lier Clark Kent”

“Ha…you don't know the half of it” he mumbled. 

“You say something Clark?” you asked. He shook his head smiling. 

Slowly but surely, you began to fall for the bashful man before you over the months. Clark never stopped visiting, or smiling at you and he certainly never stopped buying you burritos. Soon it turned to more than that. “Hey y/n,” Clark said as he rounded to your cubicle. You smiled up at him, you were busy gathering the last photos onto your computer.

“Hey Clark” “Can I take you on a proper date?” Clarck said, planting a rose onto your desk.

“Oh my god…yes absolutely,” You said. You both were smiling so big now. “Love birds! Get back to work!” you heard from the office, Clarck winced before smiling you and sneaking off. 

The next few months were full of getting to know Clark more. Spending nights at his place, and sometimes waking up with him gone. You never put two and two together that he was Superman< even though there were countless moments when he almost let it slip.

The day you figured it all out, the day Superman and Clark Kent became one was when you were almost in harm's way. Sure you knew following Superman to every site he was at was bound to get a bit dangerous but never did you think an explosion would be what almost killed you. 

The building that Superman entered was collapsing from an explosion, almost killing 15 people. Thankfully he got them out, but not before a secondary explosive erupted. There you were, shimmying under the police tape and by one of the police cars trying to get a better angle. You knew it was stupid getting this close but you couldn't help it, it was enticing watching him save people. You felt the floor shake before a secondary explosion rocked the ground sending you flying. A scream left your mouth as you felt yourself fly back, but not before someone caught you and flew you away from the scene. You were placed on a roof miles away from the explosion. 

You stepped back looking up at your saviour. His eyes were fearful; he actually looked scared. He walked over to you. You could smell the burned and explosive smell coming off yourself. 

“I smell horrible..” you started. “Are you okay?” He asked. That voice. You looked back up at him. He was scanning your body. 

“Clark?” You asked surprise etched on your face as you looked up at him. “What?” “How did I not put it together? I mean it makes sense but…I must be really stupid that I didn't see it” “Y/n you're not stupid,” he said defeated. 

“It really is you” you were shocked, you felt like punching the man in front of you. “I want to smack you so bad right now”

“You shouldn't,” He said, giggling a little. He quickly stopped when he saw you were mad at him. “No shit Clark,” You said. “Why the hell didn't you tell me? I mean we're dating…” “I should have, I was just scared to let you in that much. What I was scared of happening happened anyways and your…singed” “I was going to get hurt by my own fault, not yours,” you told him. It was the truth, the way you were reckless with some of the photos you had taken of him told you that getting injured was kinda on you. 

“You are reckless with your photos,” Clarck told you. You looked at him and he had such a look of ‘I know you’ that you couldn't help feeling a little annoyed. 

“Someone makes me that way,” you said annoyed.  

“Superman does?”

“Yes, and you, Clark. Your…exhilarating, I should have known the guy I'm dating and love was the guy I was obsessed with taking photos of”

“You love me?” he asked. 

“Of course I do” you said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

“I love you too y/n” Clarck said, that signature smile overtaking his. 

“Good. Can we get off this roof please?” you asked him laughing. He smiled, picked you up, and flew you back to his apartment. A shower was in order.

[kalifornia1025]

The Red Circle Pt. 3 (SPOILERS)

*Cutely drops my notes* 

John’s REALLY struggling with the tech. I almost feel bad for the guy (almost).

Aww the episode starts off with John asking the gang (Mariana & Sherlock) if they’re okay after finding a dead body. Always nice he checks in with them!

“The good doctor here” SHERLOCK COMPLIMENTING JOHN

Imani’s back, yay!

Oh no, poor Imani…

This exchange:

Imani: “Sorry about this” (sending another red circle pic)

Mariana: “No no no-don’t be sorry”

Sherlock: “Yes you musn’t it’s fantastic”

John: “Sherlock”

Gregson and Mariana are formerly meeting!

THE MUSIC IN THIS CASE OMG ITS SO GOOD!!!

John, you’re playing Italian Mob style music to “capture the mood”?? What happened to “not wanting to stereotype?!”

JOHN JUST REPLACE THE MIC GODDAMNIT

“Ahh do I have a PTSD friend?” John’s new method to making friends apparently 

Mariana’s right this is stupid just GET A NEW MIC!! You can still keep the old one, John!

I now have a mental image of Sherlock staring wide-eyed at a big tv like he’s in a trance and I LOVE it

Aww possible future movie nights with a new tv!!

DONALD TRUMP JUMPSCARE

Wives of Cheshire comeback HA!!

“Oh you out of your trance are you?” Seriously how mesmerized was Sherlock to the tv for John to make this joke TWICE?!

Mariana discovers the next clue, awesome!

Sherlock: “I don’t seem to have (seat)belt”, Gregson: “What a shame” Gregson you’re such a salty bitch and I love you for it

Poor John trying to get around copyright stuff

“That’s a good start, you did knock and you did say please-“ another sweet moment of Sherlock getting better with social norm stuff

Wow John is REALLY stressed, and Sherlock is NOT helping

Hehe Sherlock is an iPad kid confirmed

I’m starting to love John calling Sherlock ‘Sherls’

“What’s the Site manager like? Is he…she…they?” John says nonbinary rights

John: Ah I’ve stepped in piss”, Sherlock: “Show me the urine”…um what???

You really can’t catch a break your shoes, huh John?

I’m listening to Sherlock and John talk about possibly reaching down into toilets in order to solve the case…man I love this podcast

John: “You’re doing the next one”, Sherlock: *sharp inhale* “fine” tbf Sherlock this was YOUR idea

“The Patreon numbers are gonna collapse” no such thing sir I’ve checked and we’re all here and loving this

Sherlock: “Imani would you perhaps like to have a go?”, Imani: “No”, Sherlock: “Bugger” I love how quickly he says it

Neuralizer mention! I love the Men in Black movies so much

OOOH, John and Sherlock making the realization at the same time!

Sherlock why do you always have a gun??

NOT THE CHIPMUNK VOICES DURING AN EPIC MOMENT

“English pigs, wot?” John sounded so genuinely confused by that

AHHHHHHH CLIFFHANGERS, THE BANE OF MY EXISTENCE!!!!!!

Okay as painful as that cliffhanger is, this case is getting GOOD! I’m loving it. It’s definitely jumping up to my top five fave cases from the podcast. I was not expecting the case to be as silly as it is, and I’m absolutely relishing in it. I love the irony of John insisting this case is gonna be a bad one when I’m loving every minute of it! Alright everybody, now we just have to not die from waiting on the last part…see y’all next week!

[chaifootsteps]

just got into the first half minute of Apology tour and dear God it already made my blood boil

WTF DID BLITZ GO BACK TO STOLAS AND TRIES TO EARN THE BOOK BY FUCKING STOLAS??!! AND HIS FLIRTING OH NO NO BLITZ LAST NIGHT YOU FINALLY STOOD YOUR GROUND WITH THAT UGLY BIRD AND YOU THINK "IT WAS A ROUGH NIGHT"

OH WOW STOLAS NOW YOU FIND IT EXHAUSTED WITH THE WHOLE SEX THING WITH BLITZ FUCK YOU STUPID OWL. AND YOU HAVE THE GALL TO FEEL PROUD TO BE INVITED TO THE ANTI BLITZO PARTY AHHHHHHH I WANT YOU DEAD STOLAS

I'm stopping right here not continuing anymore. I'm not giving any more attention to this shit show. fuck you viv

Run far, Anon. Run free and don't look back.

[messrmoonyy]

- of smoking and dancing

Tess servopoulos x reader

Request- I know smoking is bad but seeing gifs of Anna smoking made me desperate to see Tess smoking it’s so hot somehow 😭😭 flirting and sharing a pack? Ahhhhhhh! ‘ combined with a bunch of requests for some kind of fluffy follow up to this drabble here

Warnings- I guess slightly ooc Tess. Shes a little awkward. A little soft. ( WC- 2.2k )

A/N- don’t smoke kids lmao. I really didn’t feel like posting this tbh. Some of my tess readers have been VILE in my ask box lately. Pls remember I am a human being. And not a word machine ready to churn out fic as you demand it.

Tess masterlist

“ you are a hard woman to find “ Tess tensed slightly as you spoke behind her, her hand loitering a little awkwardly half raised between her mouth and her side, cigarette balancing between her fingers. She collected herself quickly, bringing it back to her lips.

“ maybe you just don’t look hard enough “ that made you laugh a little, the small quiet kind meant to be shared between two people only. The kind that meant you weren’t trying to draw attention.

In all honesty she liked to think she was a little hard to find. Prided herself on her ability to go unnoticed when she chose it, slip around and keep herself to herself. She didn’t like company much. Not really. Yours though… she didn’t mind that. On the times she allowed herself to have it.

“ didn’t know you smoked “ you mused moving to stand beside her, tucking yourself into the shadowed spot behind the Bison that Tess had secluded herself to. She’d only left her house in the first place because Joel had asked, making stupid comments about you as he did. Acting like some burly Texan Cupid. Ass. But she had slipped away as soon as she’d seen the opportunity to. Not that she’d gone very far.

She didn’t quite know why she hadn’t just gone home. Or maybe she did. Maybe she knew exactly why she had chosen to hang around a little. Smoke the pack of cigarettes she’d been slowly making her way though since she’d found them. As if by some miracle they’d make her pluck up the courage to well… do something.

“ I don’t “ she didn’t. Not really. It’d never been her thing. She preferred the burning warmth of liquor than smoke. But she wanted an excuse to be outside and not look like some creeper loitering in the dark. And maybe they didn’t have the stress relieving factor of a glass of god knows what Tommy had been brewing. But they did have a little. And didn’t come with a free headache.

“ funny that… can I? “ Tess shrugged, half expecting to see you reach out and take it from her hand. But instead your leant forward a little, lips parting slightly in a way that made Tess’ skin flush. She placed it between your lips and watched you smile as you leant back, taking it from her fingers “ smokings so gross “ you sighed, blowing out a steady cloud of smoke “ specially these. How fucking old are they? “

“ I’m not forcing you to take the damn thing “ that made you smile again, tipping your head to the side to watch her light up another “ also… I don’t know. Found them in a house in the town by the creek trails “ you hummed a response, nose crinkling a little as you blew out some smoke and turned your wrist to look at the stale thing in between your fingers.

“ why you hiding away out here anyway? “ Tess shrugged leaning her arms down on the fence in front of her. You moved to stand beside her and she knew you were looking down at her without even needing to see your face. Could feel it.

“ just wanted some air “

“ sure “ you scoffed, holding your hand out over the fence to tap away the ash “ I always see you you know. How you turn up at these stupid things, hang around a little then slip away “ Tess shrugged again, glancing up at you. You flicked away your cigarette half smoked and turned to lean back against the fence, something clearly going on inside your mind that she could not figure out yet.

“ I don’t really like crowds “

“ I figured that much “ you said with a smile, glancing back down at her again in a way that made Tess’ skin flush “ you might like it if you involved yourself a little. Even just danced some “ it was Tess’ turn to scoff and she too tossed her cigarette and straightened herself out, resting her hip against the wood.

“ I don’t dance “

“ so you won’t dance with me? “ it was the first time you’d asked since she’d rejected you the last time. In the months in between you hadn’t seemed deterred by it. Had taken it on and acted as if it had never happened, continuing to try spend time with her and Tess had been trying her best not to push you away.

In fact she had been trying her hardest to actively try and be… friends. But sometimes those weird hopeful feelings would surface within her and she terrified herself. Would take two steps back from the one step she had taken forward. Not that you ever seemed particularly put off by it.

She still hadn’t answered you and gave a small sigh.

“ one dance. And if you absolutely hate it then you can run off back out here, hide away in the dark like some little cave troll and smoke your stale ass cigarettes and I’ll leave you to it “ the smile on your face as she spoke had her mind made up before she could even truly decide that she did or did not want to go back inside.

“ one “ you beamed at her as she said, truly a utter ray of sunshine on her moody and miserable self.

She tucked her cigarettes and matches down into her jean pockets and followed you back inside. As the night was wearing on it seemed a little less crowded than when she had first arrived, which she liked. Less people to look at her. Less people to talk.

Though Joel and Ellie clocked her the moment she stepped back inside, Joel looking incredibly smug watching you grab a hold of her hand and lead her out into the empty space that was serving as a dance area.

“ I think- “

“ don’t back out on me now Tess “ you said in a challenging tone, smile so cheeky she wanted to kiss it right off of you. And wasn’t that one of those terrible two steps back kind of thoughts.

“ I don’t know the steps “

“ no one knows the steps you just.. go with it. Just hold my hand I got you “ but before you could so much as twirl around the music switched from the previous upbeat song, to something slower. Her eyes darted over to where the music was coming from and she narrowed her eyes in annoyance.

Her eyes found Maria who looked incredibly proud of herself, even with Tess giving her a glare that could kill the woman she was sure. She froze as your arms looped around her neck, eyes leaving Maria to look at you instead.

“ this is better, no steps to this kinda song “ she felt like an awkward teenage boy at his first school dance, with no idea how to even look at a girl never mind dance with one.

But it felt nice. To have you holding onto her like that, standing so close there was barely an inch between the two of your bodies. She hesitantly wrapped her arms around your waist and you smiled.

“ see “ you said “ easy “ she could feel Maria’s eyes on her. Joel’s. Ellie’s. But it almost didn’t annoy her as much as it had at first. Because of the way you were looking up at her, the at you were so close together she could smell the shampoo you used. She was hyper aware of every part of your bodies that touched, skin burning and prickling at the sensation.

“ I don’t think you can class this as dancing “ you laughed a little and shrugged.

“ hmm maybe not. But it’s nice right? “ you were talking softly, directly to her and not for the prying eyes or ears of anyone around you.

She mulled over the question. Of course it was nice. It was beyond nice. It was what she had spent months pining for and moping around about. Hating herself for wanting you close and hating herself for how far she seemed to be from the woman back in Boston she had shaped herself into.

“ it’s nice “ you smiled warmly, arms tightening a little around her.

“ you’re doing me a favour too you know. Some guy from farming rotation? Been asking me to dance all night. Think he’ll get the picture now “ that made her chest tighten a little. Some stupid worry that, had you only asked her to dance to scare off some guy? “ I only really wanted to dance with you though “ you said silencing her fears before she could ever even dream to make them vocal.

The slow songs continued to play. And you both stayed there in that gentle swaying embrace, occasionally speaking about random things and fess listening diligently to everything you had to say to her. Eventually the crowd grew bored, demanding something a little more upbeat. And as much as Tess hadn’t particularly wanted to be there with you at first, she now didn’t want it to end. But unfortunately it had to.

You sighed as the song changed, taking a step back from her and rolling your eyes. Tess felt awkward again. And annoyed at herself for feeling awkward. She was ready to flee back outside and hide but you took her hand.

“ do you wanna go get some air? “ you asked her. She wondered if you sensed her discomfort, could feel the heat radiating off her “ kinda hot in here huh? “

“ yeah “

It was chilly outside. The temperature having dropped a lot since she had gone inside with you. But it was a nice contrast on her overheated skin, a nice break from the noise too. There were a few people lingering around, a few kids running around and playing with sticks as if they were swords. It made her smile.

“ I love being outside at night“ you mused, sitting yourself down on one of the benches outside. She slotted herself in beside you, chill escaping her as you shuffled close to her “ pretty. Calm “ Tess noticed you still hadn’t let go of her hand that you had grabbed to lead her back outside

Tess said nothing. Instead tried to internally process the entire situation. The night as a whole. How much she had enjoyed allowing herself to be in your company.

“ oh oh look. See him over there? That’s the one I told you about “ you said and nudged her with your shoulder, nodding over to a man leaving the bison looking a little worse for wear.

“ he seems… nice “ you laughed at that and snuggled a little closer to Tess “ you cold? “

“ hmm little “ she hesitated for a moment before freeing the arm trapped between you both and looping it around your shoulders. She felt you physically relax against her, sighing softly. The feelings were creeping again. And the fear that came alongside them. The fear of being vulnerable. Of letting someone in.

“ so you don’t. You don’t like him? “ she spoke in some attempt to derail her thought process.

“ I don’t like him “ you said immediately, not even a second thought “ I like someone else “ her chest hurt. A pang deep down that she couldn’t ignore if she tried.

And she hated it. She hated it so much. That she had allowed herself to feel. To strip back the layers of scary Boston Tess, leave herself some silly little crush and let herself be vulnerable.

“ I’m sure they’re very lucky “ she practically whispered.

“ they don’t even realise “

You turned your head slightly, cold nose brushing against her neck. She suddenly felt warm again. An anxious warmth radiating from her chest in a way she was unfamiliar with. Her old self would be laughing at her.

“ have you told them “ she felt you smile, felt the way your cheeks lifted and a small laugh vibrated past your lips.

“ the signs are obvious “ your face lifted from her neck and was suddenly incredibly close to hers. She licked her lips nervously. She wanted to kiss you. God did she want to kiss you. Old Tess would’ve. Old Tess would’ve kissed you months ago.

But that wasn’t her anymore. This was her. Sat with her arms around a girl that she liked. But didn’t like her. She was a fool. Really she was.

“ you’re a very smart woman Tess “ you started, voice low. Soft “ But fuck you’re oblivious as hell sometimes “ and then your lips were against hers, kissing her softly but with a quiet determination. She froze at first, unsure on how to react. But then she was kissing you back, hand reaching up to cup your cheek. Your hand twisted into the collar of her sweater like you didn’t want her to let go.

And she didn’t plan on it. Kissing you softly, slowly, savouring every single moment in case you decided you regretted it and she’d never get to kiss you again.

It seemed to last forever, so sensual and slow and she forgot where she was. Forgot about everything other than how incredible it felt to kiss you, to feel your cold hands in the collar of her sweater. To feel your cheeks flush with warmth under her fingers. She could taste the smoke, smell the fruitiness of your hair, the softness of your skin.

She didn’t want it to end. Didn’t want to stop.

But all good things must eventually come to an end.

When you did finally pull away it was barely a few centimetres, brushing your nose against hers before pressing your foreheads together. Her thumb was brushing softly across your cheekbone, reluctant to let you go.

“ you should’ve let me do that a long time ago “ you whispered, a smile tugging at your lips.

“ maybe I should’ve “

[zayray030]

I looooove basketball trio angst lmaooo

Like Jamil and Floyd can be so mean and so can ace but ace strikes me as someone who takes it a little more to heart. So I can imagine when ✨feelings✨ start to grow around the three Jamila and Floyd are the first to realize them. They don’t really know how to bring it up w ace and I feel like they’d kinda tease him with✨feelings✨ and then pull back leaving ace real hurt and confused. It comes to a head when j and f invite ace out to what looks like a romantic dinner (picnic maybe for extra cute factor) and then they pull like a “ha ha just kidding”. Ace break down crying then and is so mad and embarrassed so he runs off and doesn’t talk or interact with j and f for like a week. In the meantime the other two get their shit together and work on an actual confession which ends up with the three all cute and happy together

Idk what this was lol I just need ace angst lol

🐝 anon (I’ve returned after 3,000 years lmao)

AHHHHHHH BEE I MISSED YOU POOKIE!!!! 🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

Anyways, omg your ask!??!?! GURRL THE ANGST YET THE COMEDY THAT CAN COME OUT OF THIS?????

Like Ace complaining to the first years that J+F are being wishy washy and the first years are lowkey bored by the drama until Ace bursts into Ramshackle just SOBBING his eyes out because of what the two did. LIKE!?? THE PITCHFORKS ARE OUT AND THEY ARE GOING FOR THE DAMN THROAT!!!! LIKE, THEY KNOCK THE OTHER TWO OUT AND INTERROGATE THEM AND BASIC ROB THEM UNTIL THEY MAKE IT UP TO ACE!!

And those two going to the second years bar Riddle because they know he'll kill them to let them know about the plan. They're just staring at them because they're praying that the other two are smart enough not to do something as STUPID as that. They do. The second years are disappointed and surprised.

OH MY GOD WHEN RIDDLE GETS WORD??? HE TRIES TO RUN THEM OVER WITH THE HORSES!!! AND FLAMINGOS. SEBEK, TREY, DEUCE AND CATER ARE FULLY ON BOARD

ACE JUST IGNORING THOSE TWO???

"Hey ace, can you let Jamil and Floyd inside the locker room?"

"What the fuck is that?"

LIKE HE IS PETTY!!! Vargas tried to get involved and then immediately nopes out because he saw a singular instance of Ace being petty and is now traumatised.

WHEN THEY FINALLY GET HIM to acknowledge them he's just crying again and they have ro do the confession then and there because they can already hear the sounds of horses and yelling.

It's dramatic, bold, spontaneous, humiliating and honestly it makes Ace laugh enough to kiss them.

Of course they are literally never forgiven by the others for another couple months when they actually see a full change of behaviour from the other two where Ace is constantly pampered

AHHHHHH THIS IDEA WAS AMAZING!!!!