#No Worries Parcel

[artsy-hobbitses]

X-Men 97’s season finale post-credit scene being the reason I keep yelling LET THE FUCKING STORY PLAY ITSELF OUT AND IT WILL REWARD YOU IN GOOD TIME when it comes to series that have proven they know what the fuck they’re doing and where they’re going, because BingeWatch culture has truly ruined a bunch of people when it comes to appreciating long-term storytelling.

We weren’t given a ‘bad hand’ with Gambit this season—he’s gotten more development than ever outside of the comics for all the FIVE EPISODES he was in and is probably the best he’s EVER been narratively in any X-Men animation medium and my bottom dollar says it’s only going to get better for him with Season 2 which is already in production at this time.

The caveat we were given was “Time Travel can’t save him” and they’re working with that, and I cannot wait to be emotionally obliterated by his and Rogue’s story in Season 2.

[stamatits]

my city is under severe flooding risk LMAO

[magistralucis]

@absolut--kurant!

[qhazomb]

something that happens occasionally with our mail, is it comes in with a big fucking slice into it.

dude we paid to fix my dad's riding lawnmower got worried he didn't get his check because the envelope it came in was cut open.

we received a couple envelopes in the mail ourselves that were cut open.

the new phone case i got was in a bubble mailer and the slice reached the phone case so there's a noticable scratch on the case itself.

today, a replacement battery for my parent's TV earphones came in, and the box it was shipped in had a big cut across one side.

we have absolutely no idea why this keeps happening or who even to like, contact about this??? to figure out why it's happening and make it stop????

i'm just worried one day something is gonna show up in our mailbox with significant, unfixable damage to it fajlsdjfljs

[littlehen]

.

[timoswerner]

guys i think i might be about to have another parcel saga 

[katya-goncharov]

waiting impatiently for my new stephen king book to be delivered so i can start reading it before work

[syoddeye]

Lightly edited. 600 words. CW: alcohol, possessive behavior, implied stalking

You stopped sharing location with John Price.

He's a busy man. Too busy for you lately, it seems. The usual tricks, the old reliables, no longer seem to capture his attention anymore. You wonder if there's someone else.

You do it after he texts you yet another short, unapologetic message. He's working late tonight. Don't wait up.

You won't.

It's been ages since you indulged in a favorite pastime: reading at the bar. A habit of yours since school. You dress up for your own enjoyment, pluck the book that's sat on top of your to-read pile for months, and find a spot at the bar of your old haunt. Cocktail in hand, you lose yourself in the story.

Three drinks later, a hand settles on the counter beside your glass, connected to a thick arm testing the thickness of a denim jacket. A voice made rough with smoke curls in your ear and sends a shiver down your spine.

Should've checked here first. You were just sayin' you missed this place.

Heat you want to believe that's only from the liquor creeps up your chest and claws at your throat.

Woulda been easier to find you if you hadn't, you know.

You're embarrassed when you think back to when John first convinced you to enable the feature. You didn't share that information with anyone, and the idea of someone watching you felt gross. It took quite a bit of cajoling for him to persuade you, going on and on about how he only wants what is best for you, to keep you safe. Knowing where you are at all times is part and parcel of a relationship with him.

He's smiling. There's warmth in his features, the upturned corner of his mouth, and the slight scrunch of his nose, but his eyes are matte. Dull even in the dim light of the bar. He's fuming.

John sits beside you and drapes an arm over the back of your seat. He waves down the barkeep with the other. You finally find your words, humiliated that the first thing you think to say is an apology, and that you two can go back to yours. He shushes you. 

No, love, go ahead. Finish your chapter. Mind if I borrow your phone? Used up the battery on mine, you see.

You've never seen his phone below 60%, but you fork it over anyway, and he gestures for you to return to your book. You re-read the same paragraph a dozen times before giving up. He sips his drink, unhurried, catching your eye and giving a wink before he slides the device back to you.

There. All better.

There's a new icon on your home screen. It's unfamiliar, and when you reflexively tap it, it asks for a passcode. Your mouth dries.

Can't have you making more impulsive decisions like that, eh? 

The arm slung over the stool migrates to your shoulders, and his hand gently clamps over the nape of your neck, thumb swiping over the skin.

I haven't been giving you the attention you deserve lately, have I. S'pose that's why you pulled a little stunt like this. Wanted me to come hunt you down, find you sitting pretty at a bar, hm?

He laughs when you stutter and try to defend your decision but glowers when you quietly comment you were worried someone else was keeping his attention.

If you're finished reading, think we'll spend the night at mine, sweetheart. Show you you're the only one for me.

[fengqiwus]

comrades after a month of radio silence i finally have a package update for one of my superbuy parcels

[luveline]

how about spencer x badass reader and they are wearing couple or similar clothes intentionally or unintentionally?? I think that would be cutee

tysm for requesting ♡ fem!reader

"Are you kidding me?" Derek asks, sounding like a kid in a candy store, a crisp twenty in his back pocket. 

Emily follows his line of sight and feels her cheeks apple unbidden, a delighted smile on her painted lips. "Oh, my god." 

"Yeah, Garcia?" Derek asks, phone to his ear, Penelope first on his speed dial. "You need to come and see this. Like, right now. Don't worry, baby, just come and see it for yourself." 

"I don't even know what to say." Emily stares at you. 

You usually dress in line with the other women in this profession: pants that aren't too tight so you can run in if needed, a simple blouse, and a blazer if you're feeling formal. 

Today, you've opted for something softer. It was a slow change, one day you were wearing a cashmere sweater, thin and fitted to your form. Another day, you chose to layer your shirt with a cardigan of a similar colour. 

Right now? You're all Spencer. Your slacks remain unchanged but your blouse has been swapped for a shirt with a stiff starched collar and layered under what can only be described as a grandpa sweater. It's not quite ugly, but it's almost identical to Spencer's. 

What's more, you've swapped your boots for converse. 

Spencer holds the door for you. He's chosen to wear a tie at least, clinging to that last strand of professional business attire. He has two coffees, one in each hand, while you carry a box. He's all elbows as he talks to you, and you, ever his fan, follow every word with a fond smile. 

"Hey, are you guys sharing a wardrobe now?" Derek asks, absolutely unwilling to hold back.

Emily piles on, "It's cute! You're totally an old married couple, you look like my grandparents." 

"What happened to your boots, lovergirl?" Derek asks, nodding at your cons, arms crossed over the back of his chair casually. "Don't get me wrong, I'm loving the sneakers." 

"You guys totally match," Emily coos. "You could be on a Christmas card." 

You smile —you smile, Emily might just call the news— and walk past them to your desk. Hotch has moved you away from Spencer knowing you'll encourage his endless chattering, which places you on a different island of desks next to Anderson and Agent Camille. 

Spencer put his coffee down on his desk, taking off his messenger bag. "Nice going, guys. She brought you donuts. You know, to apologise for calling you both antagonistic losers yesterday," he says, smiling at the mutual horror that crops up on their faces. "The fancy kind, too. She knew your favourite flavours without asking." 

From her desk, Emily can see you've opened the box and offered them to your desk mates, your expression unperturbed. "Just don't touch the chocolate sprinkle ones, they're for Spencer," you say.

No matter what they say, how sorry they sound, you give out the donuts to anyone who'll take one until they're all gone. When Garcia arrives, she finds you sitting in your desk chair with your head leaning against Spencer's stomach, taking alternate bites of the same sprinkle-covered donut like it isn't the most domestic, coupley thing you could be doing. 

Unlike Emily and Derek, Penelope genuinely thinks you look cute. "You guys are like Brangelina," she breathes, eyes wide, her smile infectious. 

Spencer fails to hide a grin, his hand on your shoulder. You're better at controlling your emotion, sliding a small parcelled package across the desk toward her.

"Thank you, Pen," you say. "I like the shoes. They're comfy. And the sweater was a gift." Spencer nods enthusiastically. 

That explains why you'd taken such an offence. Anything to do with Spencer raises your hackles. If you felt someone was making fun of his present to you, you'd defend him with your last dying breath, or, in this instance, punish your coworkers in his honour. 

"I'm sorry," Derek apologises again, "I was kidding! What do you want me to do, you want me to wear a sweater vest too? I can do that." 

You reach back to touch Spencer's side, levelling Derek with an impartial look. Not mad, not sad. Totally indifferent. "That could be a good start." 

Spencer hums. "I think so. You wanna borrow one of mine?"

The barest hint of a smile plays on your lips. "That's generous, Spence. You're a philanthropist."

"I am." He strokes the slope of your sweater-clad shoulder proudly. "You know me, I love sharing my wardrobe." 

[dragon-ascent]

Zhongli makes you mad after an argument, so he endeavors to cheer you up.

this is for an anonymous request that I accidentally deleted, I'M SO SORRY ANON, I hope you see this post ;u;

Lovers' quarrels are part and parcel of life, though for you and Zhongli, they're generally few and far between (thanks to Zhongli's patience doing the heavy-lifting). So when an argument does break out, you get terribly upset.

Your husband has won the argument, but he's mature enough not to rub it in your face. As apology for the quarrel in the first place, Zhongli promises to bring you back your favorite sweets from the market. Still pouty, you merely shrug and curl up.

The minutes pass, and then an hour, and you're still curled up and moping in bed - but why hasn't Zhongli returned yet? It's not like him to take this much time.

Worry grips your heart as you sit up, yet another hour drifting by in silence. Could something have happened..? No, your husband is perfectly capable of defending himself given who he really is.

Before an even worse thought can seed itself in your heart, a large glowing amber eye peers at you through the window. "Ack!" You jump backwards, clutching your chest, before you realise it's your own husband in his dragon form watching you.

You hurry outside to see him holding up a bag of the sweets he'd promised in one claw, but that's not the point here. Why the hell is there a huge glittering pile of gold, gemstones, and jewellery of all shapes and sizes right next to him?

"What on earth..?" You stare at him in utter bewilderment, but your lover merely purrs as he sifts through all the valuables he's procured for you from obscure places perhaps only he knows.

The dragon tenderly and happily places a glimmering emerald tiara on your head, his tail thwacking the ground as it wiggles with great affection and enthusiasm.

Now you're staring at him in utter bewilderment while wearing an emerald tiara.

[whiskeyskin]

Different kind of Intimacy

Premise: After Astarion's confession at Moonrise, you decide that your usual style of feeding just won't cut it any more.

• Astarion x gn!Tav • Mild rating •

Reader POV, fluff, conversation about boundaries set, sweetness, understanding, softness, Astarion feeding, despite female in the inspo picture no mention of gender, love, security, intimacy, doped out Astarion

2.3k words

Shoutout to @ladyofthecreed for this beautiful piece of art for @aevallare! How stunning is it? 🥹💜 And thanks to @crepsley for the tag 🙌

This is a little different than my usual smutty style but I saw this picture and felt inspired to write something a little softer for our boy ☺️

•°•°•

"You can feed on me tonight, if you'd like." You offered with a smile.

"I was so hoping you'd say that." He lilted back to you.

You took a breath to speak again and stopped.

"Yes, my sweet. What is it?" He questioned, with a curious tilt of his head.

After the incident with the Drow at Moonrise yesterday, Astarion had confessed some deep feelings and troubles he'd had.

After he'd admitted his growing feelings for you, despite it starting out as a manipulation, he'd stated very plainly that he didn't want anyone to think of him in terms of sex but that he still wanted to be with you.

So, you'd suggested that you'd become friends first, instead of lovers. That you would still be together but wouldn't have sex until he was ready, if he ever would be.

He'd obviously joked and tried to lessen the mood with a flippant remark but you'd learned him well enough to see he was appreciative of the gesture.

You'd pulled him into a hug, and after his inital shock, he'd held on so tightly he had been reluctant to let go.

He'd offered his hand to hold yours and a silent bond was made between you.

You'd been thinking on this development between you this last day since your conversation together. Pondering on ways to make him more comfortable, to give him more autonomy within the relationship.

Astarion had been very sweet and attentive throughout the day. Like something had settled within him, like something had slotted into place.

He'd stuck very close by you, while carefully adventuring through the perilous Shadowlands.

During battle he'd taken a more protective and defensive role around you, instead of stealthy and offensive. Several times throughout the day, he had slid his hand within yours and lightly squeezed - completely unprompted - just to feel the warmth of your skin.

He'd also spotted something that would be valuable to you in a fight and gifted it to you; you didn't ask how he'd gotten it, even though you could probably guess.

And now, it was time to settle down for the night, he'd dragged his bedroll to rest next to you. Producing a small potion from his pack, you assumed he was probably already hungry and needed to feed, hence your invitation, but you needed to discuss this first.

"I've been thinking, about what you said last night, about not thinking of you in terms of sex," you started, his face pulled into an unsure expression, "It's nothing bad, it's that I've been thinking about how you feed. It's quite, sexually charged. Especially the way you feed. It's urgent and rough and-"

"-Rough? I-I thought I was being gentle. You've not said anything since that first night. I-" He sounded hurt, afraid he'd been causing you pain. You hushed his worries.

"That's not what I meant, I'm not making an issue of it, I promise. It's not something to be sorry for, it hasn't bothered me until now. I thought it was all part and parcel of the experience; foreplay, if you will?" You shrugged.

"I mean, you'd feed, get hard and then we'd usually fuck. But now I believe we need to re-think our approach." You explained further.

"It's not that having sex wasn't out of desire for you. It's-it's complicated to explain," he signed with a furrowed brow.

"I told you, that it's not that I'm not attracted to you, trust me," he smiled wickedly, you shook your head and went to speak but he cut across you to continue, "You are wholly different to ones I've seduced before. This was of my own voilition, for one - although out of necessity as transactional protection but - things have changed. I've changed. You've made me see what I'm capable of. You've.." he paused, swallowing and looking around the vacinity for the right words, "You've encouraged me. Had faith in me. Shown me kindness I've not felt in two centuries. I care for you in a way I thought impossible, but I don't know how to be with someone, without reliving the past.. But I desperately want this to be real, truly real." His claret eyes bore into yours, pleading and sad. You slowly raised your hand to cup the side of this face.

"This is real, just because it's not a sexual relationship, doesn't mean it's not real." You smiled, reassuring his doubts. He closed his eyes and leaned into your palm. Your heart squeezed as his cool cheek pressed further into the warmth.

"The act of a vampire feeding on someone has been made inherently sexual. It's been fetishised, and so in turn, has the whole vampire thing. Which works to the vamp's advantage. I can't blame the people for it. Being bitten, being fed on is an intoxicating experience." You couldn't help but shudder at the memories of you both pressed together.

"For me too," He breathed, his neck tensing, "The feeling of feeding has no match."

You smiled softly and sighed, "Like you said, 'There's nothing more desirable in the world than a vampire'." You both pursed your lips in bitter resignation.

"So, to remedy this, we need to unsexualise it going forward," you continued, "Before feeding was all teeth and rubbing up against each other like animals. Now, it's going to be slow and intimate. Not sexual intimacy, true intimacy."

"It's different to the enemies you drain on the road, or in battle. It's you and me, and that's special. We need to make it special." You smoothed the cool touch of his cheek under your thumb.

He swallowed and sat up, intrigued, "What did you have in mind, my dear?"

You certainly had had some ideas.

"Well, you've tried both of the 'best' places to feed from; the jugular and the femoral," you announced, gesturing to your neck and inner thigh, "But I was thinking of the wrist? It's a pretty neutral place to feed from."

"Sounds reasonable. It's certainly a slower feed than the neck, or thigh." He agreed with a head tilt, "Although they are an awful lot of fun." He said through tilted gaze and a dangerous grin, his hand gliding up your thigh to caress it.

Your stomach flipped from habit, but you squashed it down.

"Stop it," you chastised him with a gentle nose boop. He scrunched his face and let out a small, high chuckle. His hand relented to your knee, thumbing the seam where he'd stitched a hole for you.

"Feeding will be more about taking the time to connect with each other, without sex. It'll be slow, patient.. calming." You let out a long, cleansing breath and blinked slowly, to emphasise the point.

"Well, then. Henceforth, I shall drink from your wrist when you're resting." He gave a tilted nod.

"Um, no. I was going to suggest feeding before sleep. I'd like to be present with you. Truly present with you. Not groggy from sleep, or blissed from sex. I'd like to be with you."

He looked taken aback, but interested, "Alright then.. feeding before rest," he said, testing the idea on his tongue. He seemed to measure it acceptable before asking, "Could I.. request something of you.. while I feed?" He asked, his words measured.

"Of course, darling." You answered enthusiastically, glad for his input.

"Would you.. play with my hair?" He requested, a little sheepishly, "I-I find it. It's not a sexual thing, before I always hated it but.. when you do it-it's.. comforting to me. I-I don't know why."

Your heart swelled and your eyes began to gently fill at the surprisingly sweet request.

"Of course, I will." You smiled, blinking back unexpected tears.

Astarion smiled back and took a faux breath and huffed it out in expectation.

"So, shall we, my dear?" He flourished a hand for you to lie down.

"We shall," you nodded, "How do you wish to do this?"

"Lying down would be fine." He suggested.

"If that's what you'd like." You began unfolding your leg from the crossed position to stretch it before laying down.

"Wait.." he stopped, then looked up through curious eyes, "What about this?" He asked, as he gently laid the side of his head down on your thigh.

You beamed, "That's nice.. wait-" You scooched a little more, "Lay on your back."

He did as he was told and shuffled around so the back of his head lay fully on the cushioning meat of your crossed leg, the other extended alongside his body.

You gazed down at him laying contentedly in your lap, "How's that?" You asked.

He manoeuvred himself to rest more squarely, testing the feeling, which he seemed to agree with.

"Comfortable."

"Which wrist?" You offered both in the air.

"Wrap your arms around, and I'll feed from your non-dominant one."

You leaned down more, rounding your spine so you weren't sat so upright. You cradled his head with your arms and let your wrists hang loose.

Astarion took your hand and wriggled himself within your arm's embrace, then looked up and smiled at you. Your own broadened across your face.

"Is this alright?"

He nodded, paused then crooked a finger at you.

You bent down a little more and he brought his fingers to tenderly grasp your chin and pulled you in for a delicate kiss, barely anything in comparison to others you had, but filled with a warmth and softness that hadn't been there before.

"Thank you." He breathed, "For thinking of this, for respecting my wishes."

The breath was stolen from your lungs and your chest ached. You couldn't deny it, you were in love with him.

You didn't reply, you simply pressed a kiss to his forehead, "Eat up."

He paused again, looking like he was about to say something but decided against it. He took your hand and carefully pulled up the sleeve, before bringing it to his nose to inhale deeply.

This was a little ritual he liked to do, like a fine wine; you have to smell the bouquet.

He chastely pecked several times at the thin blue lines on your inner wrist, before slowly sinking his fangs and drinking deeply.

The pain, while still present, was surprisingly minimal. Much less sharp than his usual snapping bite down on your neck, or inner thigh.

You rest your other arm on his chest, but quickly his other hand grasped your hand and placed it on his hair.

You grinned to yourself, "My mistake, sorry dear." You admonished yourself, giggling, while beginning to weave your fingers into his loose curls.

Astarion mumbled against your skin, something sassy no doubt, but it was hushed by the sensation of his hair being twisted between your deft fingers.

He moaned into your wrist; it wasn't with reverent pleasure, it was in contentment.. ease..

You stared down at the beautiful pale Elf laying in your lap, feeding gently on your life force. His ears were lightly wiggling as he drank, latched onto skin.

You stifled a laugh, he was like a kitten nursing milk. It was too adorable. Of course, you'd never seen this angle to witness it before. It was beyond endearing.

He looked so peaceful with his eyes closed, slowly drinking his fill of your blood. His body language relaxed, instead of poised to pounce. The pace of his pulls against your wrist laboured and suckling.

Seeing him like this, calm and steady, instead of scared and jittering, unlocked a compartment of your heart you'd fervently kept closed off from the world.

Gods, you loved him.

You loved him so much you ached.

Your heart physically panged to see him so blissfully unbothered and relaxed.

You brushed his hair out of his face, and twirled it between your fingers. You smoothed his locks like petting a contented animal, and wove fingertips under the length, to massage the base of his skull.

Each movement illiciting a gratified sigh, his body sinking lower and lower into your lap.

After a while, your head started to feel woozy and your extremities were starting to go cold and numb.

"Astarion?" You whispered, gently rubbing your hand on his chest and tapping twice with your peace fingers, "That's enough, love."

He stirred, dazed from feeding. He clamped his two fingers on the puncture marks, as you reached for the healing potion from his pack to pour over them. A small drizzle and the marks were healed.

You took a steading breath and swigged the rest down to help with restoration of blood before a spell from Shadowheart in the morning.

Stoppering the empty bottle and placing it on the ground, Astarion's weight still lay heavy on your lap.

His lips and teeth dyed the colour of you, as he smiled dopily, eyes remaining closed.

You sat with him in the moment, returning to weave his white curls between your fingers. The vague warmth of your blood coarsing through him transferring back to you through skin contact.

Astarion let out a serene and easy sigh, his eyes heavy as he tried to open them.

"That felt.. very different." He whispered, almost like he was breathless.

You kissed your fingers that waited on his chest and pressed them to his temple. He kissed the air back at you, body still heavy and exhausted.

"I don't know how to describe it. My body feels heavy, but light.."

The light pulse of your blood through his dead veins was present again under the pads of your fingers.

"I assume this new feeding technique is a success then, dove? You inquired, keeping your voice low.

Astarion swallowed thickly, the stain of blood still on his teeth. He licked his lips lethargicly, "Most certainly. I feel.. completely.. utterly.. totally.."

"I hope the end of this sentence is a good one." You teased at his lack of composure.

He let out a sharp exhale of amusement through his nose, "It is.." he muttered.

You smoothed the line of his jaw, careful to not touch his sensitive ears. You smiled at the recent memory of them twitching as he fed.

"Did you know your ears wiggle up and down when you feed?" You asked in soft merriment.

"I did not.." he replied, flexing his eyebrows slowly.

"It's very cute."

"I am not cute." He tried to exert, with not much conviction, "I am a terrible creature of the night, feeding on helpless victims. I am a monster. I am not cute." He posited in feigned outrage.

You gazed down at the soft, tortured, beautiful soul in front of you and quickly blinked back the tears that swelled.

"No, you're not my love.. and I promise one day you'll see yourself the way I see you." You beamed at him.

Astarion squeezed your had three times, you repeat it back. You take a shaking breath in and blow it out, smiling.

A different kind of intimacy.

•°•°•

Yo.. down here.. fancy some more? 👀

[igotanidea]

Promotion: Dick Grayson x reader

Request: Established relationship, reader starts calling Dick bestie. At first he thinks it's cute, then gets a little annoyed, then goes semi-hysterical, questioning the whole relationship. As they clear the thing out, he uses it as an excuse to propose.

****

“How’s my bestie doing?” Y/N’s voice came from the side of the door, the use of words so surprising that Dick raised his head from the phone, giving her a little frown.

“Bestie?” he grinned. “Is that what I am to you now?”

“Shall I remind you that we started as friends?” she teased, leaning to peck his cheek.

“Never heard you call me like that when we were friends though.”

“Well, I figured—”

“You figured that after two years of living together and seeing each other in pajamas – or without them-“ he smirked mischievously – “I finally deserve the term, huh?”

“What can I say? You’ve been promoted on my list.”

“Promo- wait, hold that thought. So I wasn’t on top? So I am not on top?”

“Well-“ Y/N started, getting the idea where Dick might be going with this.

“cause I can show that I’m the only one who can be on top.” He muttered and did exactly what Y/N thought he would do.

Not that she complained.

***

It was so cute and sweet and heartwarming and nice.

Being called her bestie.

Though it was a little surprising to be called like that after so much time together and getting used to boyfriend, honey, baby and babe, Y/N was still Dick’s princess and she could call him everything she liked and he would love it as well.

Best example being them going out with Dick’s friends.

“Hey bestie, you ready to go out? Wally keeps blowing off my phone, calling me out on us being late! Can you imagine!? Freaking speedsters, judging everyone by their own lights.” She muttered, fixing her clothes in front of the mirror, being picky with it, as always.

“I guess some people never change even when they travel back and forth in time.” Dick laughed. “Don’t worry about him, gorgeous. We can be as late as we want if that means you'll have the perfect  outfit.”

“Well I was thinking we could match and—WHAT ARE YOU WEARING?” her laughter echoed in the bedroom as she took in the shirt her boyfriend put on.

“Do you like it? It’s custom made, especially for you. And maybe a little to celebrate my promotion, as you called it.”

Y/N was laughing so hard that tears started running down her cheeks, clutching her stomach and unable to tear the gaze from Dick’s shirt proudly announcing he was "Y/n’s bestie" in big thick pink letters.

“I know, I know, it’s amazing and you have no words to describe your gratitude at my thoughtfulness.”

“That’s one way to describe it—”

“And speaking about that matching …” Dick reached to the wardrobe, getting a little parcel and handing it to her.

“What is that?”

“Open up and see for yourself.” He grinned, observing carefully as she unwrapped the paper, retrieving the same style shirt with the only difference being the inscription.

“I’m Y/N.” she read, chuckling at Dick’s antics. “Are you sure about this?”

“Of course I’m sure. I want the whole world to know I am now officially your bestie and no one can even come close to claiming that title and be close to you.”

“You’re impossible.”

“Isn’t that why you love me? Amongst other reasons obviously. I mean, I am handsome and smart and 10/10 and—. Hey, Y/N, where are you going, I’m not done counting!”

“I’m changing and we’re leaving before you start inventing words to describe yourself. And before your superfriends decide to put their skills to use.”

“You know I’ll always protect you right? I am your bestie after all.”

***

It was so cute and sweet and –

A little annoying.

Like that one time at the gala when she was simply beaming amongst all those high-class-big-fish full of themselves. There was no way to deny Y/N was the most beautiful of all the women, and no fancy dress or expensive make up could change that. Dick had eyes only for her, becoming overly protective, gritting teeth and throwing daggers at every guy who dared to ask her to dance.

They weren’t a competition to him, but the male ego and pride was taking control of situations that involved another male putting hands on his girl, even if only in a dance.

And sometimes, a little marking territory was absolutely necessary.

Even if subconsciously she was doing everything to make his efforts go to waste.

At the moment he was observing Y/N conversing with some guests who – for once – happened to be around her age, giggling and acting like only young women can and are allowed to. And her having fun was fine, but the second young men started joining it, Dick had to chime in.

“Y/n.” he came closer, wrapping arm around her waist and kissing her temple, taking in the company.

“Oh, hello Dick. I’m not sure if you’ve met –“

“Caitlin and Sarah Mendoza.” Dick smiled brightly welcoming the young girls so cordially, that for a change Y/N felt a little insecure. “We haven’t had the pleasure of meeting in person but-“

“We’ve heard about you, Mr. Grayson” Sarah reciprocated his smile

“All good things I hope?”

“Of course! Everyone speaks so highly of you and—”

“Especially Y/N here. She said you were her bestie?” a male voice, of a guy that Dick did not recognize cut the sentence in half, causing a bit of confusion on his part.

“I’m sorry, who may you be?” Dick smiled with jaw clenched so hard, it almost hurt.

“Dick, this is-“ Y/N started, blushing a little from embarrassment.

“Colin Crawford. We’ve been friends with Y/N since the first grade. Though she never referred to me as a bestie.” He smirked as if sensing what emotions he was stirring in Dick. Getting enough evidence in the form of visible tightening of the grip on Y/N’s waist and even more blinding smile, becoming a little predatory.

“Well, technically we were friends in second grade—"

“That’s amazing, but I suppose I am the special one to you, right honey?” Dick cut her off, without caring about her correction of facts.  

“Of course. I mean you are –” Y/N started again, but there was no chance for her to mitigate the obvious cockfight already going on.

“Cause you see, Colin, I am not just her bestie.” Dick gritted, though the smile did not falter for even a single second and only the look in his eyes showed the annoyance at the other guy’s impertinence. “I am her boyfriend.”

“Oh, I see.” Colin took a sip of his drink, completely unmoved.

“Everyone sees.” Y/N felt herself being pulled closer to Dick’s side as a sealing of his words. “Because we are an inseparable couple, aren’t we, love?”

“We are.” She cut the sentence short to get as little as a chance to actually finish it without interruptions.

“Why don’t we go dance, baby? I do want to keep you close to me, you know.”

They spend the rest of the night, dancing, and making sure that every guy in the party saw Dick’s hands on Y/n’s waist or arm or around her shoulders or their fingers interlaced.

And for the first time, Dick found himself annoyed at the term of endearment, that was so cute and sweet and heartwarming and nice.

***

It’s been almost two months since the first time she gave him the nickname.

And he was freaking out.

Becoming almost sure she didn’t love him anymore.

That she didn’t want him anymore.

And he was trying so hard.

Buying her flowers to check her reaction.

Bringing home her favorite takeout.

Watching her movies and TV shows with her.

Giving her his time and love and affection and devotion.

And she just stopped loving him? Just like that?

But why? Why? WHY?!

What could he possibly do wrong?

He was her bestie and it made him feel like crying, ripping his hair out, and drinking a poison at the same time.

Funny how the tables have turned since the beginning.

He was now sitting in their living room, watching the pictures of them together in different locations.

Fairground. Kissing at the top of the Ferris wheel.

Holiday. With her hair being a mess from the wind and allergy dots on his face.

At the local café with a milky froth over her lip.

At the gala with them dancing and looking into each other’s eyes. So in love.

And now it was all gone.

Now he was reduced to the form of her bestie.

Despite himself, a few tears started running down his cheeks and in his desperate state of mind he couldn’t even wipe them off. He was alone after all,  no one cared whether he was sad, lonely, bleeding out from the unhappy love and broken heart, losing hope for any change of happiness or-

“Dick, what is wrong?” a warmth spread in his side and it took him a moment to realize that it was Y/N, snuggling into him and wrapping arms around him, trying her best to comfort him in whatever turmoil he was going through. “You can tell me. Or not. But I’m here if—”

“Why don’t you love me anymore?” he asked, his voice breaking a little.

“Wh-what are you --?”

“You keep calling me bestie!” he cried out

“But-“

“You’ve been calling me bestie for like two months now!” he jumped off the couch, starting to pace around the room nervously “it can only mean that you don’t love me anymore!”

“Dick, listen I –”

“Yes, I know, you still kiss me and we are intimate, but maybe it’s just a friends-with-benefits situationship for you?”

“Now that is simply offensive-“

“Is our relationship even real for you anymore? Was it ever real? Maybe we had a different approach to it from the very beginning and I was delusional?”

“How can you even assume-?” she clenched her fists at the accusation, but he barely noticed her vexation.

“I was so stupid, I should have known from the start that a girl like you could never be with a man like me! You want someone who will cherish you and love you and do everything for you and what I had to offer was just not enough!” Dick started to become a little dramatic, acting like he was preparing for a role in a Brazilian soap opera or Shakespeare play, throwing his hands around, spinning on his heels, and touching his forehead and heart. “Oh, Y/N, I am sorry, I could not give you more, but why… WHY DID YOU STOP LOVING ME?! AND WHEN DID IT HAPPEN!? WHAT DID I DO WRONG?!” he fell to her feet, embracing her calves.

“Dick-“ she stuttered, not sure how to calm him in this state. “I’m not—”

“Just tell me the truth my love—” he whispered, raising his glassy eyes onto her.

“I never—”

“YOU NEVER LOVED ME!” he exclaimed, getting even more dramatic.

“I NEVER STOPPED LOVING YOU!”

“Wh-what?”

“When did you even get that silly idea? Who put it into your head? Was it Wally? Jason?”

“n-no.”

“Then who?!” now she was the one getting angry “give me a name and I will-“

“You started calling me bestie.” He explained.

“Yes. And?”

“And I thought we were drifting apart?”

“But- but you liked it. I mean – you got a shirt with that term on it, remember?”

“Well, I don’t like it anymore.” He muttered, pouting like a five year old.

“So you want me to stop?” she smiled in amusement at his behavior.

“YES!”

“Then why didn’t you just tell me? You really thought it was easier to develop a whole theory on a single word?”

He didn’t have any response to that, which only confirmed her conviction that she was right.

“Ok, then, so how do you want me to call you?”

“Your boyfriend, your love, your beloved or honey or sweetheart or –“

“Okay.” She smiled

“Or your husband.”

What?

“Husband?” she repeated with her voice shaky a little “but we are not-“

“But we can be-“ he kneeled in front of her, reaching for her shaking hands. “Y/N Y/L/N-“

“Dick, this is not funny—”

“Good. Because I am most definitely not joking now. Y/N Y/L/N.” their eyes met, conveying pure honesty and love he held for her “will you do me the honor-“

“Of not calling you my bestie?” he chuckled, the tension of the moment making her act like a goof.

“Will you let me finish a sentence?” he laughed and she nodded “Will you make me the happiest man on earth and marry me?”

“Yes.” She sobbed from all the emotions.

“Yes?!”

“YES!”

“Oh my god!” he jumped from the ground, taking her into his embrace, holding tight and spinning around “SHE SAID YES!!”

“I SAID YES!”

“WE’RE GETTING MARRIED!” he exclaimed for one more time before putting her on the ground and kissing deeply for the longest time, suddenly not needing any air to breathe.

“You’re gonna have to get us new tailor-made shirts.” She chuckled, cupping both his cheeks and locking her gaze with his.

“Mr and Mrs Grayson, absolutely.” He nodded. “But I’m not only getting us shirts, honey. From now on all your belongings are going to have a monogram. Cause now? Now I feel like I truly got promoted and everyone’s gonna know it.”

[jallerentrags]

Better than him.

James Potter x Reader, based on 'Boyfriend' by Dove Cameron.

James Potter thought of himself as a lucky man.

He had everything he wanted: Good grades, good friends, a good life. The only thing he wanted, which he worried he might never have, was you.

Y/n Cassiopeia Black, twin sister to the elusive and handsome Regulus Black. But despite being at the same school, and being best mates with your older brother, the space between the both of you was almost impossible to cross. You were cold and indifferent - sticking with your friends and Regulus - and avoided James like the plague. You rarely spoke, supposedly scorned by his theft of your older brother, and when you did converse, it was usually under the watchful eyes of Charles Nott, your betrothed.

At the age of 16, you had been auctioned and sold to the highest bidder, wrapped in his vice like grip. James watched from the side-lines as the eyes that used to shine like her brother's name-sake, faded.

He had tried to become besotted with Lily, a beautiful and intelligent girl, but it was futile. Your power over him was strong, his urge to move on with Lily too weak. But a strong friendship between the Head Boy and Girl did blossom, so James ended up ranting to Lily about his situation.

“James I don’t know what to say. Y/n is one of the most prized girls in school and her circle is small. Your best bet to get her attention is to ask Sirius to introduce you,” Lily paused to brush her long hair out of her eyes and behind her shoulder with a thoughtful look, “Of course, that’s if she’s willing to speak to Sirius, I don’t think I’ve seen them together since last year.”

James sighed. He already knew that you had closed yourself off after losing your brother, and he grimaced thinking about how hurt you must feel. He knew that Sirius was still mourning his loss as heir to the House of Black, and heard him crying at night when his ache for his little siblings grew too heavy.

“I know,” James fiddled with his glasses, face heating up. “Maybe it’s best if I just leave it. It’s a pipe dream that a girl like that would ever go for a guy like me.” James moved to pick up his books from the library table and head to his dorm, mood low. Lily gasped and slapped his hand away.

“Definitely not! I remember Remus telling me that you two were completely smitten and oblivious to it despite belonging to rival houses. The James Potter should definitely not give up this easily,” Lily’s brows were lowered in an expression of seriousness, her lips thin, “I’ve got an idea. You know the Christmas Ball is this weekend?”

Of course James knew the Christmas Ball was this weekend. The whole school had been preparing for it since it was announced early November, a night of bliss and relaxation to temporarily ignore the deteriorating state of the outside World. James’ parents had already sent him his dress robes, and he saw that last Tuesday you had received a large parcel in the mail which he guessed must of been your dress.

“Yes, but I don’t see why that matters? She’ll be going with Charles. He proposed in August.” James spat, anger lacing into his words. Lily merely rolled her eyes and huffed.

“So? Steal her away! Ask her to dance and charm her! I’m sure it won’t be that difficult, it’s not as if she’s in love with Nott,” Lily placed her hands on the table and leaned towards him, “She’ll definitely leave him for you, she’s always been sympathetic towards muggle-born’s and I heard her talking about how she wishes she didn’t have to marry Nott. Give her a reason, Be her reason, and she’ll leave her supremacist family and be with you.” James scoffed and leaned back in his chair, watching as Lily reclined also.

“I don’t think it’ll be that easy. She loves Regulus and she fits the role as ‘Slytherin’s Princess’ perfectly. I don’t want to put myself out there for her if she’s already too far gone.”

“Believe me. She’s not. People don’t look at each other like you two do.” Lily smiled at him, certainty blazing in her emerald eyes, “You could be her new beginning, and I really think she wants that. She loves Regulus and she always will, but I know that he would value her happiness and I doubt that she wouldn’t love to have a reason to escape,” Lily’s hand reached over to James’ and clasped it, “I really believe that you two would work. I want to see you happy James, please trust me.”

James’ lips formed a smile, and he felt hope blare in his chest. If Lily, the smartest girl he knew, believed that he stood a chance, then he had faith. He squeezed her hand and stood up, collecting his books and shoving them into his bag.

“I trust you, now watch me get my girl.”

————————————————————————-

The Great Hall looked beautiful, you thought, as you entered. The ceiling showcased a clear starry sky, and the decorations shone and sparkled in the candle light. Ice sculptures decorated the corners, and 12 great circle tables surrounded a square dance floor and far off, adjacent the teachers table, was a long buffet and drinks table laden with Honeydukes delights and crisp pumpkin juice. Charles, your financeé, gripped your hand tighter and dragged you to a table with his friends, only slightly admitting how beautiful you looked in your F/c gown. Charles' friends briefly acknowledged you (with a few appreciative eyebrow raises) before ignoring your presence entirely. Across the room, you spotted your older brother and his friends, who hadn't seemed to notice your entrance just yet. Sirius looked remarkable like always, a classic example of the Black families striking looks. Even Remus looked quite handsome in his robes, and Peter had cleaned up nicely. Admittedly, you thought, James looked incredibly good in his robes and had caught your eye as soon as you entered the Great Hall. His robes were tailored to his fit physique perfectly, and his hazel eyes shone with excitement. Although he hadn't managed to tame his hair, you secretly appreciated how well it framed his face.

"Admiring the blood traitor, Y/n?" Rosier, one of Charles' close friends, scoffed. You turned back to the table, missing James' look your way, and shot a smile in Rosier's direction.

"Of course not," you replied, entangling your arm from Charles' grip, "But you have to admit that he does look very enjoyable in his robes." you smirked, watching as Charles' face contorted into a sneer. He made to grab for you, already muttering about your incompetence with an extremely angry look on his face. He wrapped his hand around your arm hard, pulling you close enough to whisper in your ear. Despite being pulled into his side, his body still angled away from you, like you didn't matter at all. From across the hall, you wondered whether it looked like it was a lover's embrace. It was anything but. You spared no love for Charles, and it was no secret. Rosier and the others all sniggered, slurs tumbling from their lips and their faces a mixture of disgust and outrage.

"Y/n, you should watch your mouth. You don't want people thinking that you agree with your mutt of a brother, do you?" Charles asked, his face settling into a blank stare. Your brows lowered and your lips curled, before quickly schooling features once more. You simply hummed, avoiding Charles' eyes. "Now run along to Regulus. I'll come to you when I need you." He unwrapped his hand from your arm and pushed you away, before turning back to his group. You wondered through Hall, greeting friends, before making a bee-line for your twin. The dancing had begun, a light tempo that sent couples soaring over the floor. You watched in admiration, the way they held each other, looking into each others eyes like no one else existed, souls mingling and stretching across the floor. You wished you could be swept along the floor, lost in the steps and the feel of your partners hands. The partner you imagined never had the Nott green eyes and cigar scented yellowed palms, he always had the face of your older brother's best friend.

From behind you, you heard somebody cough to catch your attention, and you turned on your heel to come face to face with James Potter, watching his already huge smile grow wider. His hands were in his trouser pockets, his body angled towards you so completely that you couldn't even acknowledge other's brushing up against you.

"I can't believe we're finally alone, I've been trying to catch you since you arrived, you look so beautiful," James revealed, blush drifting across his cheeks, "I almost went back up to the dorm."

"Well that would've been a shame, Potter" you smiled back, easing towards him, "I was hoping to see you on the dance floor."

James laughed, a sound that sent shudders down your spine and took his hand out of his pocket to push up his glasses that had fallen down his nose. "What are the chances? I wanted to see you on the dance floor too," James squared his shoulders and cleared his throat "Everyone's dancing, yet you aren't, somebody that I know is stuck by dance fever frequently, and he's not with you," James leaned forward and smirked, "the Universe must of divined us, little Black, it looks like we're destined to dance together tonight."

You could almost see the thoughts fly across his face as he grabbed your wrist before you could even object, pulling you towards the dance floor. The music had changed to a sweet, mouldable beat, sweeping partners across the floor in unique waltzes and dips. James positioned you on the floor, a large hand leaving a burning touch on you waist and the other slipping into you awaiting hand as you breathlessly laughed. Your hands fit together perfectly, just like his hand rested so perfectly on the curve of your waist. He started leading, smiling down at you as though you placed the stars in the sky, a twinkle in his bespectacled eyes. You followed readily, returning his smile and placing you hand on his shoulder, heat building and spreading under your dress at your close contact.

You were flying, soaring, just two people in a sea of revellers. You didn't slip from his gaze, totally unfettered, lost in him. You never stumbled, never faltered, you recalled every conversation, every lingering glance, every lasting touch, knowing you were utterly enthralled. James looked the same, captivated by your presence, stuck in your energy. You saw the words bubble in him, and your heart soared when he stopped biting his tongue.

"Y/n," he whispered, drawing you closer, his face a picture intimacy, "I could be a better boyfriend than him," you sucked in air, but didn't draw from his arms. James tightened his grip on your hip as you looked deeply into his eyes, "I could do all the shit that he never does," he flared his fingers against your waist, "I'll stay up all night for you, I won't quit. I'm thinking that I'm going to steal you from him," he dropped his head to press against your forehead, your joined hands tight as you still manoeuvred around the floor, "I could be such a gentleman, plus all my clothes would look so good on you." You slowed to a stop, dancers fluttering around you as you ended up at a loss for words, mouth agape and your heart singing. "I could be so much better for you than him."

"James..." you unlaced your joined hands, already missing his touch, as he stared at you desperately. You knew that everything he said was true, and James was nothing if not an honest man. He made you smile, kept you safe, always thought of you as the prettiest girl in the room. You were in love with James Potter, but it wasn't as easy as that. You had to worry about your brother, Regulus, and the future of your family. While your parents were definitely not kind and nurturing, they were all you had. You didn't have James Potter to whisk you away if Sirius didn't allow him too. You wanted James, more than you'd ever want Charles and his prejudice. Your eyes watered, and you suddenly felt lost.

"I don't need to tell you twice all the ways he can't suffice, he wouldn't care about your happiness, or your dancing or your smile," James' unwavering hope warmed you, cocooning you in a safety net when you felt like you were falling from the Astronomy Tower. James wanted to be your new beginning, your second chance. He wanted to cuddle you on cold nights and to show you the beauty of the muggle world and all its secrets, "If I could give you some advice, baby, I'd leave with me tonight." His desperation slipped from his face, replaced with a confident smirk, as if he saw your facade melting, as if he could see you melting in his arms, as if he knew that you were going to choose him, just like you would every single time.

"You'll help me get through it?" you asked, and James immediately knew that you meant the sparking fall out between you and your parents, and the Nott family. James took your face in his hands, love shining in his eyes, before placing a chaste kiss on your forehead.

"I'd give you my heart if you asked, darling, of course I'll help. Besides, what's another Black sibling in my house? if your brother comes I'll have the full set." you shared a laugh, biting back the tears that threatened to spill.

"You'd like that." you said between laughs.

"I'd love it." he answered, leaning back and taking your hand in his once again. He led you back off the dance floor, both of you blushing madly and smiling merrily. Towards the left of the hall, you spotted James' friends watching you both intently, glasses raised. Lily Evans seemed particularly excited, emerald eyes aglow with excitement as she waved enthusiastically and gave James a thumbs up. Sirius and Regulus stood further away, small smiles on their faces as they watched their little sister walk out of the hall with the resident trouble maker. No complaints rose up their throats, just unbridled joy for their sister who finally looked happy. James and Y/n didn't look at anyone else as they left hand in hand, not even at a furious Charles Nott, hands balled in tight fists. They ignored the open mouthed stares and muttered remarks, completely absorbed in each other.

The next day, Charles would arrive at his dorm to an owl waiting by the open window. Tied to his leg was a envelope, and Charles reached for it immediately. Ripping it open, he tore the piece of paper out and dumped its contents on his bed. Gleaming back at his sneering face was the ring he gave Y/n when he proposed, and scribbled on the letter was one sentence:

'I suppose you were right Charles, I do have a taste for blood-traitors.’

- Y/n Black and James Potter

[goteique]

 ❝ ATLEAST WE SEE THE SAME MOON ❞ + ( sakusa kiyoomi, hinata shoyo, atsumu miya, bokuto koutaro,meian shūgo ) 

cw. | headcanon/scenarios about how they act while being away from you vs how they act when they actually get to see you; gn-reader, boyfriend headcanons, first-time long-distance relationships, fluff, brief mentions of smut, established relationship. || redirect to blog navigation.

notes. | recently rewatched hq so here's something to get rid of my nostalgic brain rot.

☆ SAKUSA KIYOOMI

Sakusa Kiyoomi is a man of less talk and more work most of the time. He is the kind to miss you day and night without diluting his efficiency in the game. Even texting seems hard for him a phone call seems a little too demanding. He will call you when he is at the far end of a high cliff yet not tell you how much he misses you, your voice, your touch around the house. . . everything in general. But after calling for onetime it starts to become frequent and his talk is full of: "Did you miss me?", " Do you even miss me?", " you rarely call me"; even though he is the one who has told you not to call when you feel like it yet he is the one to call you to say that he misses you a lot and most of the time it is out of context. Maybe you are talking about your day, or some local news but when you finish he just spurts "I miss you". There are two seconds of silence then he says again, "I miss you a lot." But when he is finally home, with you on the same bed and inside you, he would still say, "Did you miss me?" and then places open mouth kisses all over your body saying, " because I sure missed you a lot."

★HINATA SHOYO 

 Hinata is used to being away from his favorite people but he is not used to being away from you. His texts are frequent and regularly calls you to check on you but when he misses you he never tells instead he visits famous tourist spots and video calls you, shows you those famous tourist spots through video call and says, "i wish we could see this together," and then goes on autopilot mode of talking. You ask him to repeat what he just said and he does repeat except what you want to hear. It is a pulling-pushing game and the end results are embarrassment, laughter, and confession. He never gives a room to complain but time and place keep you apart from him. He often sends you parcels containing matching pieces of jewellery and outfits. And after such deliveries, he visits you and brings souvenier for everyone, even for you but says, "Don't worry this is not the only thing i came for to give you." So, when everyone is sleeping in the house and you two are awake and barely clad. He says, "I've more souvenirs for you," as he admires the bite marks over your body while hooking his arms around your thighs, getting ready for the next step.

 ✮ ATSUMU MIYA

Atsumu's way of telling you that he misses you is not very stealthy but if you tease too much, his verbal expression comes to a halt since he will build a cocoon around him. Sure, he wears his heart of his sleeve, sometimes on his face but he is never the one to be good with teasing especially coming from his beloved. So, he regularly sends you gifts with an endearing note and when he finally comes home unannounced, he is found in the bedroom with a box full of all those notes he send you, crying. He is crying for two reasons. one: his surprise did not go as he planned. two: he is missing you right now more than ever. When you finally come home, both of you get surprised at first and then he goes back to his whining self about how he wanted to surprise you, talking about his matches and food. Talking about food is a must because he will never admit how good Ongiri MIya is and as he keeps talking he follows you everywhere you go, every corner of the house, and gives you the puppiest face he can manage if you do not let him inside the shower with you. But you actually do, because the owner did miss this puppy.

★ BOKUTO KOUTARO 

 Bokuto makes time for you every day. He is the kind who tells you each and every detail of his each day before going to bed when he misses you. He tells you that he is coming over next weekend to see you and gets pouty when you are not surprised. It is not a wonder to you that it totally slipped his mind that he actually did mention that he is coming to see you but when you mention that you have specifically taken a day off since he was coming he is instantly is in his high spirits. Because he gets to spend time with you, He gets to spend each and every moment with you,he gets to go out with you, he gets to binge-watch shows with you. There are so many things he get to do wuth you just because he told you that he is coming to see you beforehand. isn't that great? Well, of course it is. As much as he is excited to do all these things, he ends up doing nothing instead spending the whole day in bed with you: talking and listening, talking and touching, touching and kissing, kissing and fucking and then fucking and talking again. If you say that you have to cook he says, "can't we order a take out today?" just so he could cuddle you just fiften minutes more.

 ☆MEIAN SHŪGO

 Meian has a reserved time for you, during weekends unless a match comes up. Everyone knows that even team-mates, parents and coach. He asks you to keep the video call on and do whatever you are doing. It is a nice feeling, almost having him like he is with you, around you even if it is through those rectangular screens. But late at night, he gets a little too sneaky and demanding asking what you are wearing? or says that there's something on your shoulder even if there is not. He takes the longest detour to tell you that he misses you. But all of that just sublimes when you say that you are going to shower. He keeps quiet for a moment and ends uo saying the most common reaction,"without me?" There are times when the answer is yes with a huge nod from your end but there are also times, when you say, "No. You can watch." But Meian does not survive your whole shower time. He even ends the video call just before you are fully naked yet deep down in his heart he believes he can improve with time.

[anarchistfrogposting]

“Ah sorry I’m just dumb” (having ADHD my whole life has meant that I’ve been criticised heavily for making mistakes that come part and parcel with the condition. Even the people I love most in the world have chastised me for mistakes that I spend much of my life worrying about and trying to avoid. It’s much easier to tell you I’m just a silly guy than explain to you that no matter how much effort, how much thought, how much stress I put into avoiding these same mistakes, I will keep making them over and over again. My brain is structurally built to thwart me throughout it all.)