#This is a reminder at me to do a starter for my girls

[hrrtshape]

FAME DR — random things i catch myself doing

⋆   checking my reflection in every reflective surface – not even trying to be vain; it just happens. windows, sunglasses, the back of my spoon in restaurants… gotta make sure the hair’s doing its thing!!!!!! can you blame me?? after scripting that im the most beautiful person in the galaxy world universe planet earth the extraterrestrial covering???

⋆  getting waay too into my own fan edits – i know, i know. i know !! but i can’t help it. cause why are some of these people lowkey bob ross’es…….. and god knows those iwishutalktalkwishutalktalkwishutalktalk edits slap!!!!!

⋆  making a mental list of all the celebrities i want to befriend – every awards show, it’s like, “ooooooooo, gotta chat with her next time. ye. ye,” or “could we handle being besties? or would she be too busy? would i be too busy??” 

⋆  doing my own mini-paparazzi test runs – i’ll walk down my hallway pretending it’s a red carpet, testing aaallll thé best angles and smiles for when the cameras flash. “which look is more it girl chic baddie mysterious diva core? do i give a little smile or keep it ice-cold? attitude?? fuck. what i do.”

⋆  googling my own name with random keywords – like “[…] + scandal” just to see what wild stories fans are spinning, or “[…] + best outfits” to remind myself that I AM…indeed.. that girl

⋆  pretending i’m on vogue’s “73 questions” while i do mundane stuff – loading the dishwasher or folding laundry, and all of a suddem i’m answering fake questions about my favourite ice cream flavour like the world is (definitelly….definitely…) watching.

⋆  using my awards as high-key decor – casually arranging grammy’s, oscars, tony’s and emmys’ on my living room shelf, so they’re visible for any.. unplanned photos. they might as well count as conversation starters.

⋆  accidentally stealing lip glosses from every makeup artist I work with – it’s not intentional! but I end up with an ever-growing collection of shades that accidentally find their way into my purse. oops ? the 11 year old kleptomaniac in me never left, i guess. 

⋆  tossing air-kisses to fans out the windows – dramatically waving out the window to invisible crowds like i’m on a royal tour. it’s mainly just for me, but I feel like the main character every single time.

⋆  practising my award speech in the shower – just in case, you know ? i’m running through all the thank yous and shoutouts, making sure the delivery is tear-worthy but not too dramatic.

⋆  catching myself using my best “signature” autograph – even when signing random receipts, i go full-on with my signature. i know it’ll end up on ebay one day, so i make it flawless every time.

⋆  overthinking my outfit to do something minor – even stepping out for two minutes has to look like it’s casual yet unbelievably chic. what if a fan spots me or a candid photo gets out? the pressure’s real.

⋆  choosing my airport outfits as if It’s a NYFW – the airport is a runway for the weary and jet-lagged, so i’m showing up in my finest oversized hoodie and designer shades, ready to be “spontaneously” photographed.

⋆  taking a nap between interview segments – there’s a tiny couch in my dressing room for a reason, and you better believe i’m getting that beauty sleep between each round of the press circuit. besides. it’s very convenient that i scripted i look angelic after waking up. so, yes! 

⋆  listening to my own songs on repeat (in private) – yeah, yeah, yeah, maybe it’s a little narcissistic, but when I’m alone, my music is basically my personal ‘bop-makker’ playlist. 

⋆  bringing little sweet treats to red carpets – you don’t know hunger until you’re in an all-day event in a tight dress with no food in sight, so yes, i stash some of those bombastic granola bars in my clutch.

⋆  updating my pinterest boards – 24/7 adding new aesthetics, vintage looks, moody photoshoots, and iconic glam shots for future eras. the grind never stops !! besides, it’s xtremely fun to find archival gowns that i could just be like… “yeah, i want it.” 

⋆  taking a pic every time i feel iconic !! – at the end of the day, it’s all about those little moments of mine. how could i not capture myself looking iconic with my hair blowing in the wind, or that one perfect winged eyeliner and i won an oscar. this is MY MOMENT. 

⋆  signing a signature with something xxxtra 4 fans – if i see a fan with my merch, i’ll randomly sign it and add hearts, sparkles, whatever i can just to make it extra special. just please don’t put it on ebay again with a doubled price 

⋆  giggling over my own wikipedia page – homemade margarita blender and a straw in it in hand, reading. yes. i do that. unemployed at heart. also sometimes raising an eyebrow when i encounter something false. like, no…i haven’t been dating dev patel. i mean, i wish ! 

⋆  humming my own lyrics while shopping — as if some people wouldn’t recognise them !! just a little “oopsy, did i just sing my grammy-winning chorus in the cereal aisle?”

⋆  leaving my phone on loud because it could be beyonce, for all intents and purposes — ready for all incoming calls. for interviews. for mysterious dinners. for my situationship to text me. for that movie role. but also probably just mom, calling to check on me.

⋆  breaking into runway walks — from the kitchen to the bathroom, because i !!!have!! to practice those killer strides. preferably in slippers.

⋆  complimenting my own acting in movies — like……“damn, i’m talented. i’m pretty good at this, huh..” lowkey shocking myelf during certain scenes, because yes, i went *THERE.*

⋆  collecting little trinkets from world tours — coasters, matchbooks, hotel room keys (should’ve probably given those back, now that i’m thinking about it), because each one is a time capsule from the adventure.

⋆  randomly testing my oscar acceptance expressions in the mirror — gotta know how much to cry, smile, or look truly humbled when the time comes !!!!

[leagueofdccm]

// me sobbing to myself: I need more rick for my michonne. #ilovethem

[98chao]

Yummers

[xxplastic-cubexx]

bro the feminine wiles aren’t even a joke like. im with that anon who thought hellfire gala charles was a woman when they first saw him bc same, that design is insaaaane (/pos). how could u not think that when u see it lmfao. idk whose choice it was to give him a corset but the hourglass figure + female coded jawline combo do not lie. i saw it on pinterest and i was like ohhh don’t lie to me i know an anime girl when i see one- WAIT PROFESSOR X????

and that’s not even to mention movieverse charles ofc. we’ve all seen james mcavoy and his big sparkly kawaii anime eyes, i shouldn’t have to say it. charles xavier is never beating the allegations, i fear

gonna need this ask hung in the louvre i fear

[domjaehyun]

i ❤️ hot nerds (l.dh, n.jm) — preview

PAIRING. pervert!nerd!haechan, pervert!nerd!jaemin x popular!fem!reader  GENRE. smut, slight fluff CONTENTS. explicit smut (kissing, fingering, oral (receiving), titfucking, breast play, lots of drool and spit, overstimulation, snowballing, dirty talk, rimming, anal play, missionary, riding, mating press, breeding/creampies) WORD COUNT. 8.7k; teaser wc: 525 words SUMMARY. when your professor pairs you with the two smartest students in your class for a group project, you find yourself making an interesting deal with them. or, alternatively: the one where you have to help two nerds learn to get girls so you can pass your class. PLAYLIST. n/a NOTES. remember when i said i was up to something with these two? this is it! the full fic is already posted on my patreon here, and i’ll be posting it in full to tumblr on september 30th!

“You don’t get it—we need to be fuckable!” Haechan stresses, and you roll your eyes in exasperation.

“Haechan, you’re already fuckable.” you explain calmly, and he opens his mouth in preparation for some witty remark, but after processing your words, his eyes widen and his mouth hangs open uselessly, his accusingly pointed finger now pointing meekly at the floor at an angle. 

“I—So—so you would fuck us?” he stammers, and you nod slowly, looking from him to Jaemin.

“Why do you think I let you get away with your numerous dorm violations?” you snort in amusement, and he blinks hard.

“I thought you just took pity on us, y’know? Like you had a soft spot for nerds or something.”

“I don’t have a soft spot for nerds.” you answer. “I have a soft spot for hot nerds, though.”

His mouth opens and closes pathetically as his normally quick-witted brain scrambles to process the information you’ve just presented to him. Jaemin is quicker to act, sitting forward so suddenly the move could be considered as predatory, and you’re not sure if it’s the lighting reflecting off of his glasses or what, but there is most definitely a glint in his eye as he regards you, his lips gradually stretching into a toothy grin.

“So you let us get away with stuff? Because you like us? Like what?” he questions, and you tilt your head to the side as you think. 

“Your candles, for starters. Haechan’s tapestry, your many many noise complaints from your neighbors when you two get too heated as you’re gaming,” you start to list off on your fingers, and you cross one leg over the other, not missing the way both of their eyes shift to your newly exposed skin and how… hungry they look. “The way you—” you point at Haechan, “always try to get away with looking up my skirt.”

Haechan’s face flushes a pretty shade of red, and you smile, amused, as he scrambles to defend himself. Before he can, you hold up a hand to silence him. 

“Haechan?”

“Yes?” he replies meekly.

“If I minded, I would have said something by now. I certainly wouldn’t have kept wearing skirts and accidentally flashing you.” 

His eyes roll back into his head with a whimper and he nods in understanding. 

“And you—” you round on Jaemin, who’s still perched like a lion about to pounce, and the male just smiles wider, tilting his head to the side curiously.

“What about me?”

“You probably think you’re slick with the little lingering touches on my back and waist when you’re ‘trying to get by,’ but I only let you do that because I like it.”

His grin widens more than you even thought possible, the glint in his eye now unmistakable. “Oh, yeah? Where else do you like being touched?”

“I mean,” you hum, uncrossing your thighs and smiling as both of their gazes hone in on the space between your legs, “I could tell you, but I think you’d rather have me show you.”

“I have a better idea,” Jaemin murmurs, moving towards you slowly. “How about you let us find out?”

reminder that the full fic is already posted on my patreon if you don't want to wait!

[automaticroadpeachdragon]

Deaths Trophy

Rio Vidal x Female Reader! x (mentioned but not really said Agatha Harkness)

warnings: slightly possessive Rio, steamy and hawt, idk what else to put on here.

Authors note: this bitch is confusing, I woke up and wrote it and I’m just going along with it lol.

Words written: 1.7k

“Hmmmm….” the green witch preened at you, shuffling closer and into your space.

“Hello beautiful,” she said in a sultry voice.

Agatha growls and pulls you behind her away from the green witch. “Stay away from her, Rio.”

Rio as witty as ever raises her arms in mock defense as her gaze flickers back to Agatha and then back to you. She winks at you before slipping away and skipping further down the road. You stare after her in curiosity and glance at Agatha.

“Stay away from her, please.” is all she murmurs before releasing your wrist and walking slightly ahead of you— but still within reach, close enough that if Rio did try to make any move on you, she’d be there to put an end to it.

—

It is when you are all gathered around the fire, talking about battle scars when you make a move to go settle In for the night, when you feel a hot breath on your neck. You don’t turn around, already knowing who it is, and sigh. You may not have known Rio for barely a day, but she was quickly becoming a nuisance to both Agatha and you.

“Boo,” she whispers against your ear. “Where you off to, gorgeous?”

“Nowhere,” you say sharply.

She whistles and brushes a hand against your back, causing goosebumps to form in their wake. “No need to be so harsh, baby girl. I only want to talk.”

“Why?”

“Because you interest me,” she shrugs. “A pretty thing like you, though, sweetheart, should know better than to wander in the dark by yourself.”

You look over your shoulder at her, she smirks at you and runs her hand further up your back. “What are you doing, Rio? Agatha won’t like that you’re touching me.”

She releases a low cackle responding, “Won’t she though? I don’t remember her caring so much about her playthings.”

“I’m not her plaything, she is my mentor.” You hiss.

“A mentor without power, baby.”

You swallow. “Not for long.”

She chuckles again. “I like you,” she says. “You’ve got fire.”

The hand on your spine gets higher and her touch gets firmer, not enough to hurt, but enough to leave a reminder that once her hands left your body, her touch would yet remain. You shivered and pulled away, looking over your shoulder to hiss.

“Stay away from me.”

You felt her eyes on you as you retreated to where you were going to sleep— you heard her faint cackle as you moved further away, a shiver going up your spine.

___

“The bodies are really starting to pile up now, Agatha,” says Rio, standing over the dirt that Teen and Jen disappeared into.

Her eyes settle on you and her smile widens, “Did you miss me, beautiful?”

Agatha gets in front of you. “What do you want, Rio?”

Rio smirks, “Well for starters, you’re standing in the way for one of them.”

You’re tense when you peer at Rio over Agatha‘s shoulder.

“She’s not available,” Agatha said tersely.

“I know how you feel about her, Agatha. I watch you, just as you watch everyone else.” Rio steps over the mud and into the leaves and walks the distance to the two of you.

“Please, I’m her teacher, nothing more.” Agatha scoffs and reaches behind her to grab your elbow, trying to walk around Rio, but is stopped abruptly when Rio reaches for her knife.

“If that’s so, then why do you keep her from me?” asks Rio, twirling her knife between her fingertips and watching with furrowed brows.

“What do you want with her?”

Rio’s eyes turn to you and a small smirk etches up her lips as she answers, “A well-deserved trophy,” she says. “For what I have to do to keep the sacred balance of the universe.”

“Whatever do you mean, Rio?” Agatha snaps.

“You and I both know that the boy is the son of the Scarlett Witch,” says Rio. “And that he will eventually go looking for his brother and I can’t let that happen. That boy's brother isn’t out there, yet, but he will be if I don’t take him.”

Agatha tenses abruptly and releases a shaken sigh, “Fine, whatever, take him. I don’t care anymore.”

For a second you think you see a flicker of guilt pass through Rio’s eyes, but it’s gone just as quickly.

“You can’t,” Agatha then says, leaning forward, towards Rio. “Because if you kill him and take him, you know he will reincarnate again and you can’t let that happen.”

Rio watches her intently as she ponders over her next words, “You want me to bring him to you, fine. I will. But you leave Y\N out of this, got it?”

Rio’s eyes flicker to you and then back to Agatha. “Deal.”

And in a whirl, she is gone.

___

You feel her eyes boring into the back of your head, when she comes from the shadows. The clanking of her heels on the ground and then the feel of her front pressed against your back.

Her breath on your ear made you shudder, and the feel of cool hands pressing into your stomach to pull you back further into her.

You sigh, trapped under her spell, as one of her hands moves your hair away from your neck, revealing your neck. Her lips trail along the length of your neck to your pulse where she presses a kiss, your skin buzzing alight with a newfound need. You know you despised her, wanted nothing to do with her. But something inside you compelled you, pulled you towards her in a way that drew you into wanting to feel her breath on your skin.

When she had revealed herself as death to you, you had been terrified— wanting to get yourself as far away from her as possible, but she trailed you, hunting you down, and claiming her so-called trophy. And you loved every second of it just as much as you hated it. You loved the thrill of being wanted by death, an ordinary witch, and one of Agatha Harkness's prodigies. You loved the way she craved you just as much as you craved her, it was a force to be reckoned with— and how unfortunate of you, to be drawn like a moth to a flame.

“Never fear me, my trophy,” she whispered huskily against your skin. “My blackened heart only beats for you.”

You knew it wasn’t true— she had used you at first to get to Agatha when you had met. But there was no denying your beauty, her sudden attraction to you. But Agatha had her heart way before you did, and you knew you’d always be second and never first. It was hard to accept, but you lived with the fact that you knew in some way, she loved you just the same.

Her thumb and pointer finger came to your chin, tilting it towards her. Her lips are centimeters from your own.

“Rio,” you gasped. “Please I need—“

She chuckled against your cheek, her fingers tracing your skin as if you were delicate. “Shhhhh…”

“I hate you, so much.” You say breathlessly when you feel her lips press to yours teasingly, then pull away.

She laughs against you, “We know that’s not true.”

“I hate you so much,” you whisper again, “that I’m madly in love with you,”

She turns you around in her arms and guides you backward until you feel the press of a wall behind you. Her eyes look deeply into your soul, searching for truth in your words. And you can tell when she doesn’t detect a lie, her shoulders sagging even further and her head pressing to yours.

“Kiss me,” you plea. “Rio, I need you.”

And then her tantalizing smirk is back and she’s pressing her front to yours— “If you think I’m going to make this easy for you, sweetheart. You’re wrong.”

You nod desperately, “I know…. just please,”

She leans to kiss you and stops short, watching you. You know she’s teasing you, trying to bring you to your breaking point. And she knows that you know— it just makes torturing you all the more fun for her.

You growl in frustration and move to close the distance you two still had, but she tuts and murmurs into your ear, “Don’t get greedy,”

“Just fucking kiss me already, then,” you practically growl.

She purrs against you, “I love it when you get all hot and bothered by me, it just makes me want to eat you up, baby.”

“Then do it.” You growl.

She chuckles and leans back to look you in the eyes, “Okay, trophy,”

And then she’s kissing you, roughly, and you don’t have it in you to fight for dominance and she knows it. She puts an arm around your waist and tilts your head back further to deepen the kiss. She forces her tongue into your mouth and savors the taste of you on her lips greatly. You gasp into her mouth when you pull back for air.

“Rio,” you say. “More…”

She shakes her head, “Not here,”

You whine, pulling her back in for a kiss, and she lets you. Kissing you feverishly, her teeth biting into your lower lip and drinking up the sounds you made for her. She pulls away smirking and whispers against your ear, “I’ve got you so wrapped around my finger, beautiful. It’s irresistible.”

“Rio, please..”

“Hush…” she says, “I’ll come back for you, eventually and next time I won’t hesitate.”

You grip her even tighter to you. This is the game you two play after all. She leaves you wanting more every time she visits you, only to leave you all over again.

She takes your face in her hands and presses her head to yours, eyes closed, and you know without a doubt through her witty and flirtatious facade she tries to keep up, that you are the only thing precious in her life now. That losing Agatha wasn’t for nothing. Even if it had hurt her more than she let on.

“I’ll be back for you, my sweet, beautiful, trophy.”

And then she pressed a kiss to your temple, pulling you into her arm, wrapping you in such an embrace that you’d never want to escape from. You hated her and loved her and there was no escaping it, because you knew the more you fought, the harder the restraint was, the harder it was for her to stay away from you.

“I love you, too.”

In a cool whisk of air, she is gone.

But you know she will be back.

[xixovart]

lost trio headcanons because theyre my mini fixation for the day

for starters i’d like to remind you that the first time jason felt like a person and not a soldier was when he was with leo and piper

ok now actual headcsnons

jason’s hair grew out after a bit and ended up covering the scar (“undercut”) he has on the side of his head from that one bullet. leo likes to surprise people by putting jason’s hair up bc its funny to see their reactions

l: “and look—secret undercut!!”

j: “it’s not an undercut leo, it’s a scar”

p: “the bullet didn’t even touch your skin drama queen”

j: “might’ve. my head could’ve exploded and—“

[groaning and arguing and leo laughing]

—canon convo guys rick told me

leo knows a lot of car games which is very beneficial for long days on the argo ii

piper always has a lollipop in her mouth and no one knows where they come from

leo comes up with the oddest nicknames and piper and jason are just. so used to it? jason could be talking to like reyna or smth and leo will come up to him and say

l: “oh hey jason gracer razor blazer”

j: “hi leo”

r: “what the fuck”

leo is really bad at picking up social clues so jason does it for him

the wildnerness school had a really early curfew that piper and leo blatantly ignored

they would stay out and wander the halls and hide in classrooms whenever a teacher was nearby

leo was poor and homeless, jason was raised with no regards to currency, spending, or finances, and piper is a nepo baby. the ultimate trio dynamic. arguing for hours about whether $50 is a lot or not (it is.)

leo shares food as a love language

jason loves video games, surprisingly enough (mario kart. MARIO KART.)

piper is constantly taking leo’s and jason’s stuff. hair ties, jewelry, mostly clothes, also mostly food, leo’s homework,

the trio has a movie marathon every friday night. there’s blanket forts, gummy worms, matching pjs, and fairy lights involved. they borrow rachel’s cave, since cabin 1 is too depressing and the aphrodite and hephaestus cabins are way too packed (sometimes rachel hangs around for a bit :D)

picture me this. it’s winter, the lake is frozen over. they somehow find ice skates. utter chaos. leo fancies himself a figure skater, jason is on all fours because he keeps falling, and piper actually did figure skating as a kid

GUYS GUYS THE TRIO GOING ON A QUEST AND HAVING TO HIJACK AN UPPER-CLASS PARTY/GATHERING IM LOSING MY SHIT IMAGINE THE POSSIBILITIES

im gonna have to draw this but like

piper giving them very strict instructions on what to do and what not to do (they end up forgetting half of it)

yk that one quote from new girl?

“where are you piper?? this place is fancy and i don’t know which fork to kms with”

that’s leo

jason just hanging around quietly and not engaging in conversation and keeping everyone under close radar like the little fucking wolf he is

everyone ends up thinking he’s a bodyguard

the trio just goes along with it

YH THATS IT I HAVE MORE I THINK BUT THIS IS GETTING WAY TOO LONG SOOO BYE LOSERS GOODNIGHT AND DONR FORGET RO SLEEP EAT AND DRINK WATER (you hear that, @kindred-spirit-93? water. not pink milk. water./j)

[idle-daydreams]

HEHEHE what a about possessive yandere starters. "Where do you think you're going dressed like that? Your body is for my eyes only" Dazai or Chuuya! Or Fyodor It's up to you! Thank you for taking my request I love your works!😌✨✨

I chose Fyodor because this prompt seems to fit him best. I hope its okay :)

Tw: Yandere, mentions of sexual assault and stalking, controlling behaviour

“Where do you think you're going dressed like that?”

You froze, hand still upon the doorknob. “Fyodor,” you said, stomach clenching. “I... was just going to the store for some stuff.”

Fyodor stepped out from the shadows of the living-room, crossing his arms as he leaned against the door frame. “Your body is for my eyes only,” he said in his flat voice. “Have you forgotten that, my love?”

Your stomach dipped again, almost painfully, and you took a deep breath to calm yourself. Fyodor was extremely caring, but his concern could be overbearing at times. “I know that,” you said. “But, I mean, I’m not dressed inappropriately.”

“Are you not?”

You looked away. At one time, you wouldn’t have given the black sweatshirt and leggings you were wearing a second thought, but ever since the accident you’d started to second-guess anything even remotely form-fitting. So your clothes tonight had been an active choice. “No,” you said defensively. “Lots of girls dress like this.”

“At home. Not when they go out alone after dark.”

“It’s fine,” you said, somewhat exasperated. “It’s still light out, and the store is like, ten minutes away.”

“But that outfit leaves too much to the imagination.”

“Its leggings and sweatshirt, not a string bikini,” you snapped.

Fyodor pursed his lips. Immediately, a stab of guilt ran through you. “I-I’m sorry,” you said quickly. “I just - Fyodor, I don’t like it when you tell me what to do. I’ve always worn these kinds of clothes, and it’s been fine.”

“Has it?” Fyodor moved towards you, eyes hooded in the dim light of the hallway. You stopped yourself from instinctively pulling back, reminding yourself that it was only your boyfriend. Fyodor brushed his cold fingers down your cheek, and an uncomfortable flush ran across your skin nevertheless.

“Tell me, which one of us gets catcalled when they go outside, my little dove?” he said. “Which one of us had a stalker following them around? Who got assaulted right around the time we first met?”

“That was different,” you stammered, wishing he could pull away as he leaned in even closer. He was tall and thin, barely there at times; yet at times like these he could be overpowering. “It was late at night then, and I - I should have been more careful, but-”

“But this time it is different, yes? Because it is ‘still light out’? Because it happened that way the other time, so it cannot possibly happen now?”

You jerked as he ran his fingers along the insides of your thighs, quickly and violently. “Fyodor!” you exclaimed. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing.” He quickly flipped you over, pressing himself against your body until you could feel his manhood against your ass. Before you could react more than a startled gasp he stepped away, leaving you stumbling.

“I tell you what to do because you aren’t smart enough to be left on your own,” he said flatly. “What I did could be done by anyone, anywhere, at any time. Even at a nearly-empty convenience store while its still light out.”

“It won’t happen again,” you said, shaken by Fyodor’s callousness. “That guy is dead.”

“Yes, it is fortunate that he walked off a bridge and drowned after driving you into a breakdown.”

“I didn’t have a breakdown!”

“Really? You call that night you spent crying in my bed something else, then?” He grasped your chin in a pale hand, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Is it worth it, [Y/N]?” he asked softly. “Is it worth all of it just to defy me? The months of paranoia, having to abandon your job, your boyfriend, your life - will all of it be worth it just to wear an outfit? Because if you like the attention that much, as to twist my concern into something else, then I certainly will not help you should there be any consequences.”

Tears filled your eyes as you struggled to form an answer. You’d thought you were getting better, moving past the assault and the hellish nightmare of having to flee your home-town just to escape your stalker. But that niggling thought still lived at the back of your mind, the ever-present fear of being hunted again. Fyodor had been kind enough to help you out with settling in Yokohama, but you didn’t want to go through all of it again, and certainly not alone.

“... fine, I’ll change,” you said in a small voice.

“It will be better if you don’t go,” Fyodor said. “I planned to go get dinner anyway, so I will get you whatever you need.”

“That’s fine, thank you.”

“Ah, I’ve frightened my little bird.” Fyodor sighed, pressing his lips to the top of your head. You flinched, but forced yourself to lean in, reminding yourself once again Fyodor was your boyfriend. Who loved you more than anything in the world and had gone above and beyond just to prove it.

If only his touch felt kinder, instead of possessive.

“I’m fine,” you whispered, burying your face in his shoulder.

“I am sorry, my little dove. I did not mean to distress you.” He wrapped his arms around you tightly, resting his chin on your head. “But you have to remember, everything I do or say is to protect you. You need protection, after all. You do not know just how beautiful you are, just how unusual your pure soul is in this world of sinners. And your body is the temple of your perfection. So protect it from others, and keep it only for me.”

[e-m-ma-lmfao]

Ruin My Reputation

pairing : cooper howard (the ghoul) x (fem) reader

summary : he’s soft for you

warnings : blood, drug use kinda, talk of shooting

a/n : just something short and sweet so the fallout brainrot subsides.

“You know damn well I hate when you show up like this.” You let your medical supplies clatter onto the table where the ghoul sits, waiting like a hurt dog. Eyes awfully resemblant of the animal.

It’s likely that the only reason he’s here, looking this run down, is cause he’s got no vials left. If you knew better, you’d hide yours. Or better yet, get rid of them all together.

“Now c’mon darlin’,” he pauses to sputter out a cough and take a deep breath, “I thought you loved seeing me.” Shakily, he grabs his hat off his head and places it on the table.

“I love you a whole lot more when I don’t have to worry about you showing up at my doorstep on the brink of death you old..” Your words trail off and whatever insult you were ready to throw at him is taken away by the stream of air you let slip past your lips.

“I told you to quit your worryin’, I ain’t gonna die on ‘ya.”

“Oh yeah? And what do you suppose it is you’re doing right now?”

“Well if you’d quit your yappin’ and get to fixin’ I’d be doing a whole lot better, wouldn’t I?” He offers an unwelcome smile, which disappears when he winces in his pain. You hand him a vial of his favorite yellow liquid before you get to unbuttoning his shirt. After downing the vial he opens his mouth again but you're quick to cast your eyes his way.

“Looks like I didn’t need your medical attention after all, huh? ‘S a damn shame.”

“Mhm, waste of my time. Well then, I’ll cut right to it, thought I told ‘ya not to come around anymore after the last time.” Your voice trails off as you disappear to the back room to grab him a shirt that isn’t littered with holes and dirt and a shit ton of blood. Most of which probably isn't even his. And he follows behind, limping, like he’s in a trance and can’t help himself.

You hear a grunt from the other room as you rummage through a small storage box of his discarded things. Anything he left over the months he had been making himself a frequent quest in your home was in this box. You wanted to burn it. All of it. Use those little bottles of yellow liquid as a fire starter and make him watch while you did it. But anytime you tried, you couldn’t actually bring yourself to part with the tiny symbols of his presence.

“We both know you didn’t mean that,” he appears in the doorway behind you, blocking your exit, “besides I always come to my girl for help when things get rough. She's got all the good chems.”

You throw the shirt into his arms, a bit harder than intended, but he catches it with the reflexes of a man who kills for a living. Because, well, he does. You’re not sure why but every comment is making you angrier about him being there. A chem stash, huh? That’s all he thought of you?

“I wish you wouldn’t. I ain’t got time to sit around and tend to you, wait for you to get all better and leave again.”

The shirt now hangs on his body loosely, buttons open, “Now what’s got you so sour tonight. Usually you're a lot kinder to little ol’ me.” He leans against the doorframe

“Maybe the fact that I’ve got a half dead cowboy making himself comfy in my home every two weeks doesn’t sit well with me. You ever think about that before you kick your dirty boots off on my carpet?” You pause to stare at him with a raised eyebrow, “Oh, which reminds me, you owe me a new carpet.”

“What’re you talking about, woman?”

“You got blood on my carpet.”

“It was already covered in blood and dirt anyway!”

“Well, you got more on it. I liked how it was. So now you owe me a new one.”

“Are you hearing yourself? Where would you like me to go for said carpet? Anything I find you is gonna look exactly the same as the one already sitting on your goddamn floor!” He moves in slowly, cautiously like he’s practiced the art a million times. “Now I know you’re not worried about that piece of fabric out there. What is the problem?”

He swoops in close, close enough to wrap his arms around your waist with his hands clasped together at the dip in your back. You don’t push him away, though you want to. Although, all you think about is how your gun is sitting merely 5 inches away on the end table beside you. You could shoot him, if you wanted. But you probably won't.

Cooper’s eyes find your avoidant ones, the rough pads of his fingers grabbing at your chin to make you look at him. He’d never raise his full hand to you, smart man. God knows you’d think he was moving in to slap you, and his hand would be gone before he could yell ‘yeehaw’.

“You know damn well that I worry about you Coop.” Your arm finds his forearm, tugging his hand away from your face, “I just want you to stay for once, so I won't have to worry about you dying in the middle of the wasteland somewhere.” His hands find the dip in your back again, running along your skin until they rest on your hips.

“Hey now, you know I can’t stay, I got business to take care of out there.”

“Yeah, it’s always business. Always. Well you know what, so do I. So go on and get ‘fore I shoot yer sorry ass.” You step away from him, pushing him out of your way but his hands are quick to find your hips again and pull you back to him. Works like magnets.

“Now you're just being dramatic.. Alright alright, if you ask me nicely I’ll stay for a little longer than usual.”

You stare at him, eyebrows flexed in annoyance but the rest of your face has seemingly cooled down. You don’t need to say anything, he’s already agreed. He looks down at you with a soft smirk, thumbs rubbing into your hip bones.

“You are the easiest woman to please in the whole wasteland.” You feel your eyebrows relax as one of his hands reaches up to cup your cheek in his rough palm. His lips part, gazing at you with deep adoration.

“Think you’re making me go soft darlin’, gonna ruin my damn reputation.”

[zepskies]

Hey Zepskies!

So I just wanted to ask if you could tell your most fav fav fics for Supernatural.

I’m pretty sure I’ve read all your fics and they are just 🥹🥹SO GOOD!!❤️❤️

But I need more.. so if you could pls pls help me out here🥰

Thanks!!

Oh my goodness, what a great question!!

(And thank you, my lovely. I'm so glad you enjoy my writing. 🥰🥰)

I've actually been doing a lot of reading lately, despite also writing up a storm, working on Smoke Eater.

Here are some of my favorites! They will span Tumblr, Ao3, and FF.net, as I did a lot of my early reading/writing on other platforms.

Now, in no particular order...

Keep in mind, I probably like several fics from each of these authors, but I'm featuring one or two that I very much enjoyed.

**[Minors beware, I'm recommending a lot of 18+ only content here!]

Dean Winchester x Reader or OC:

Stories are Dean x Reader unless noted OC.

Hold On I'm Coming - @ravengirl94

Clear the Area - Alisha Ashton (Excellent 4-part series!)

Unspoken - @thatonewriter15

The Girlfriend Who Remade Christmas - @deanwinchesterswitch

Twenty Minutes or Less - @iprobablyshipit91

Magical Blooms

The First Time Series - @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior

The Dangers of Hope

It's All For You

Things Learned and Unlearned

Remind Me - @justagirlinafandomworld

Delicate

The Fallout

Feral - @jawritter

Here For You - @marvelfanfn2187a113

Collared - @spnexploration

Old Man - @kaleldobrev

Creature of the Night - @waynes-multiverse

Friends with Benefits - @deanwritings

Safe - @waywardxwords

Carry On - @acreativelydifferentlove

You're Home

Helping Hand - @deanwanddamons

Love Language - @mind-empty-just-fictional-people | @jacklesbrainworms

It Ain't About Pity - @ejlovespie

More to Love - kittenofdoomage

Never Spoken, Always Said

The Widow - @pink-sparkly-witch

Say I'm Beautiful - Lindsey D. Perez

While They Dance On A Pin (Jane Series 5) - shirleypositive72 (Dean x OC)

She's My Cherry Pie - BeccabooO1O

Feral - @luci-in-trenchcoats

Witches - @waywardxwords

Wild Flower - @deanbrainrotwritings

Take a Shot - @rizlowwritessortof

Late Night Show

Lost in You

That’s How It Should Be (Sheriff!Dean)

Girls, Girls, Girls - @spnbabe67 (Dean x OC)

NSFT Alphabet [Dean Winchester] - @chevroletdean

Masturbation [Dean Winchester]

Roots in My Dreamland - @pamwritessometimes

Dean Winchester x Lisa Braeden:

Damages - adventuresinposting

One Step at a Time - FaithDaria

A Dad By Any Other Name - bloodmagik

Sam Winchester x Reader or OC:

Stories are Sam x Reader unless noted OC.

While You Were Sleeping - Avrilando (Sam x OC)

With The Eyes of a Loving Man - Avrilando (Sequel to While You Were Sleeping)

It's Your Birthday - Lindsey D. Perez

If You Give a Moose a Muffin - Lindsey D. Perez

All of Me - ALoversDream

Could Have Told You That One, Winchester - BeccabooO1O

Samnesia - @princessmisery666

Delicate - @ohsc

I'm sure there are many, many more, but here's a starter list for you of my favorite people! 💕

I have several more stories favorited on my FF.net account. (Beware if you try to read any of the stories I wrote there though. Some of those are old as hell and not to my current standard. 🤣)

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the breakfast

lilac, chapter two

a/n: when my love, @chvoswxtch, asked me to bring the horny energy of miss patty from gilmore girls, of course I fucking did it, I'm not a criminal, that's what we all deserve

summary: “well, hello stranger.” 

warnings: lumberjack!frank castle x reader, lumberjack AU, pete castiglione era, past domestic violence, crazy ex trope, slow burn, wholesome villagers being adorable

word count: 2373

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

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masterlist | join my taglist

The Lilac Inn wasn’t just an inn to the citizens of Dunbrook. It was its beating heart, a hub for the small community to gather. 

As the town’s only culinary establishment, the residents had always made a habit of eating a fair amount of their meals in the inn’s dining room, the door to the kitchen often staying wide open so that Harvey wouldn’t have to leave the stove in order to catch all of the juicy small-town gossip that had people blabbering. 

“Dad, did you turn off my alarm?” you snapped as soon as your scurrying feet carried you into the bustling kitchen.

Not lifting his eyes from the loaf of bread he was currently slicing, your dad simply countered with a jovial, “well, good morning to you too, sleeping beauty!”

“Dad,” you sighed, jaw clenching at his usual demeanour, the paralysing dream you’d just roused from not setting you up to be in the right mood for such a level of positivity. 

“You just looked like you could use the extra hour or two,” a smile still warm on his lips, the middle-aged man defensively raised his hands.

“But I’m supposed to help you out,” your eyes followed his movements as he trotted towards the stove, “I can’t do that if I’m asleep.”

“Exactly,” your dad passed by a hook full of tangled textiles and tossed you an apron, “that’s why I let you go a little longer so that you wouldn’t doze off on me before lunchtime arrives.” 

“I wouldn’t have dozed off…” you mumbled pettily as you tied the linen around your waist. Exhaling lowly as you watched him crack two eggs into a sizzling skillet, you asked, “what can I do?”

“Well for starters,” he tossed the shells into a small scrap bowl to his side, “these were the last eggs, so if you could go get some more out by the front desk, that would be superb.”

“Why do you have eggs on the front desk?”

“Because Otto’s chickens are laying a lot right now and so he told me he’d give me some today when he swung by for breakfast.” 

“Wait, Sheriff Nilsen has chickens now?”

“Yeah, has for a long time,” the decade of you not living here grew palpable, “he usually just drops the extra ones off here, so they should already be there because I just took his order two minutes ago.”

“Alright,” you disappeared through the back door and snaked down the narrow corridor, ending up behind the messy reception area. 

Your eyes didn’t have to search for long before you noticed the petite basket, brimming with beige eggs, resting on the top of the counter right beside the small rolodex that displayed what date it was. Grasping it in your hand, your vision momentarily drifted down to the small, framed photo nuzzled behind the ever-open logbook. Sitting on the swing that still hung from one of the sturdy trees out back, head adorably posed in a tiny palm, there a 7-year-old version of you sat, forever frozen in that singular moment, beaming up at the camera. 

“Ah!” a sharp voice boomed as you heard the front door swing shut, “oh my goodness, oh my god! Y/n!”

Raising your chin, your eyes grew wide at the rotund woman beaming at you from the doormat, “miss Rays!” you hurried around the front desk, “oh my god, it’s been so long!” 

Capturing you in a hug, she pressed your form into her bosom, “darling, we’re not in bed together, call me Donna.”

Pulling back with a light chuckle, your eyes fluttered over her features, “you haven’t changed one bit,” her lipstick still a fiery shade red and hair still short and feathery framing her plump cheeks.

“You however have,” she clasped your free hand in hers, guiding your figure to give her a good view, “oh, do a little spin for me,” you bashfully obliged with a giggle, “yes! Honey, who is this woman, what have you done with the adorable little girl I used to tutor?”

To your knowledge, Dunbrook never really had a proper school, but for as long as you could recall Donna had always operated as a teacher to the handful of children that called the reclusive mountain village their home. Even though it was just run out of her living room, she had still been the best teacher you’d ever had, her patient way rivalling any of the professors you had to endure when you went off for college. As a matter of fact, she had been the person who’d pushed you to send in the application, praising that you were too clever not to go out and change the world. 

“Oh, stop it,” you sighed light-heartedly, a chuckle still bubbling out of your chest as you shifted the subject away from your own appearance, “so, you still come here for breakfast?”

“Of course, I do, you’ve tasted your father’s cooking,” readjusting her purse, she hooked her arm in yours, “a real shame that he’s never accepted any of my offers of becoming your stepmom,” she leaned in to add as you crossed over the threshold into the dinner room, “I could have been served all my meals in bed like some Egyptian queen!” 

“I’m sure you can easily find another fellow that can handle himself in the kitchen,” the click-clack of her heels came to a stop by one of the small round tables, her eyes briefly taking in the other patrons before a slight crease appeared betwixt her polished brows. 

“Oh, darn it,” her vision stayed glued to the table in the corner as she lowered herself onto her seat, “he’s not sitting at his usual table…”

“Who?”

“The eye candy over there,” she tilted her chin in the direction of the broad, muted flannel-clad back of the man sitting by the window furthest down at the bottom of the room, “you see, I asked your dear father to always reserve this spot for me just so that I can have a great view, if you know what I mean…” gulping down the rest of his coffee, the man’s head tilted enough for you to recognise whom the rugged looking visage belonged to, “oh boy, I tell you, if I was 30 years younger…”

Haven assumed that you’d never again run into the stranger who’d helped you just the day before, a warm flutter suddenly trickled down your spine, “like that’s ever stopped you before,” you pointed out, snapping your eyes out of their trance, “so, uh, do you know what you want to eat or do you just want some coffee or something while you think on it?” you took two steps towards the oblong table where mismatched teacups where stacked and the steam of a few thermoses, all containing a different hot beverage then the next, billowed out.

“Some coffee would be lovely,” she smiled as you with one hand snatched up a mug and the decanter labelled as such, “and some oatmeal if you don’t mind, sweetie.”

Promptly pouring her a cup, you then signed off with a wink, “you got it,” before your vision landed upon the latest of Donna’s abundant infatuations once more. 

Attempting to make the short journey seem spontaneous and effortless, you bounced from table to table, topping off people's cups, before reaching the final one. 

Drawing in a deep breath, your embarrassingly giddy voice then found his ears, “well, hello stranger.” 

Eyes flickering away from the newspaper sprawled out before him, a look of shock washed over his gruff features as he glanced up at you, “oh, hi.”

“Pete–, it is Pete, right?” you checked, slight mortification beginning to brew within your belly. 

“Yes, ma'am,” his head nodded ever so slightly.

“Do you want a refill, Pete?” you savoured the taste of his name on your tongue. 

“Sorry?” his brows furrowed at your offer. 

“Your coffee,” you pointed with the hand that clutched the handle of the thermos, “do you want some more?”

“Oh,” he breathed, though the puzzled look didn’t seem to fade, “yes, always.” 

Leaning in slightly over the newspaper, you filled up the drained mug, only a murky ring at the bottom indicating what it had previously contained, “and can I get you something to eat as well?” 

Eyes narrowing, he stared up at you, “is your vacation really already so boring that you got a job here or what?”

“Oh,” you couldn’t help but breathe out a light chuckle as you answered, “I’m not on vacation and I guess, kinda,” staring back into his eyes as you attempted to repeat your question, “so, do you want any–,” though before you could finish the sentence, out pranced your father, a plate of food balanced in his palm. 

“2 eggs sunny side up and some sourdough toast, as per usual,” he sang as his long arm came down to slice the air between your forms, placing the dish upon the table. 

Briefly catching his eye, Pete then offered a polite nod of gratitude, “thank you,” folding the paper up and scooting the meal closer. 

Feeling the small basket of eggs disappear from your grip, you blinked back at your father as he softly requested in your ear, “honey, could you give me a hand in the back when you’re done out here?”

“Sure, dad,” you flashed him a smile before watching him disappear once more. 

Feet still glued to the floorboards right by Pete’s table, your vision then returned to him as his deep voice washed over you, “so, you’re Harvey’s kid, then?”

“Yep, that’s my dad,” your balance briefly shifted as you rocked on the balls of your feet, “thank you, by the way, for yesterday.”

“Oh, it’s no problem,” his fork punctured one of the golden yokes, “how’s your car looking?” 

“I don’t really know yet. The local mechanic is taking a look today, so fingers crossed it’s not anything too catastrophic,” you felt your palms begin to sweat as he simply stared up at you in silence, “anyhow,” you averted your gaze nervously, “I’ll stop bothering you, let eat in peace,” you nearly bumped into the chair behind you as you backed up towards the kitchen, the near accident not managing to draw any words out of him, only the hint of a smile twitched at the corner of his lips, “see you around, I guess…” 

“Hey, dad?” 

Briefly raising his eyes from the logbook cracked open on the wooden counter, he glanced up at you as you bounced down the wide staircase, “yeah, pumpkin?”

Hand tracing the railing, with the aid of the grip, you swung your form around the last post as you ascended the final step, “did you know that the hot water doesn’t work? Like at all.”

“Yeah, that and about a million other things around here,” he sighed, vision returning to the ledger as you rested your folded-up arms upon the top of the reception, “this is a beautiful historic building… and what I mean by that is that there are too many things that either don’t work the way they should or at all. I am not a millionaire, honey. If I was, then the issues wouldn’t be piling up the way that they are…”

Bottom lip snug between your teeth, your mind raced a moment before you quietly theorised, “exactly how long is that list?”

Eyes racing to find your eyes, your father joked, “why? Did you become a contractor while living in New York or something?”

“No, but I was always the handy one out of the two of us,” you noted before your shoulders raised in an innocent shrug, “how hard could it be?”

“Let me get this right,” he raised a palm up between you as his eyes crinkled even further, “you’re telling me you wanna try and patch this place up?”

“Well, it couldn’t hurt the business side of things. When was the last time you booked out more than two rooms at a time here?”

“Oh, no, no,” the moustachioed man then began to shake his head, “you’re not turning this place into some fake, glossy tourist attraction.”

Swinging around to his side of the counter, you assured him, “hey, I’m not saying let's flood this place with tourists, but maybe just a handful more?” tilting your head in an attempt to catch his gaze that had now returned to the open book, “just enough to make ends meet, perhaps also enough to at some point hire someone else so that you won’t work yourself to death…” 

Eyes frozen on the page before him, a long exhale then flowed from his lungs as he deliberated. 

“Alright, fine, yeah, I guess that wouldn’t be that bad…” he tried to downplay the smile that blossomed upon his lips.

Spine pressed against the edge of the front desk, you then braced with your palms and hauled yourself up onto the spot that was just clear enough for you to sit there without knocking any knickknacks over. 

“So,” you drew out, searching for a new topic to explore, “Donna seems to be quite set on that guy Pete to be her new husband, huh?”

“Oh, yeah,” Harvey chortled, “but you know her, she’s like a dog spotting a pheasant every time she sees a new man. I think genuinely I might be the only person in town who isn’t either terrified of him or has some desire to sleep with him.”

“How long has he been here anyway?”

“Eh,” he glanced up at the stained glass adorning the front door as he thought, “maybe a year or two? He mostly keeps to himself, lives up in a cabin in the woods and only really comes down here to either provide some firewood to whoever needs it or have some coffee,” vision landing on you, he then noted, “you however seemed to have broken through to him quite quickly. Took me like 5 months to get anything more than a grunt of recognition out of him.”

“Oh,” you couldn’t stop your eyebrows as they promptly rose up, “well, he kinda helped me the day that I got here. He was the guy I caught a ride with…”

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[imaginespazzi]

Another game down, another step closer to March (it's literally tomorrow guys) and like always, I have thoughts :)

Paige Bueckers: is insane

22 points on 90% NINETY PERCENT, NINE-ZERO PERCENT like y'all I don't think we even realize we're watching a once in a lifetime kind of efficient player. She's just- yeah she's just insane. Not a flash of passive P tonight AND she got to sit for a whole quarter? Yeah, this is HER season and everyone else is just along for the ride.

YEE FUCKING HAW ASH LET'S GO! I was actually a little concerned that first half because a) no one was helping P and b) Ash just looked like she was doing cardio out there but there's no energy like the energy a halftime buzzer beater can inject you. AND THE STEALS! Girlie been working on that defense and you love to see it.

My NFOY had a "quiet" 17 points which speaks to Sarah's maturity and her ability to just get a bucket. And the IQ is just so beyond her years; it's wonderful to see. That 3-ball isn't falling yet but TRUST it's going to and it's gonna be something special.

Ice finally gave me something. I still wanna see more but she was pretty god today. More than anything, I just loved seeing her hustle for those points. She boxed out well, made smarter decisions than usual. I see the progress and she's gonna get there (off the bench), I see the vision

Kaitlyn did what Kaitlyn does. I think we could use a little more from her but I think her presence is really solid. She made some questionable decisions tonight but I do think the Storrs environment which is unlike anything she's used to maybe played a factor.

Speaking of questionable decisions, KK made a fair few of them and reminded me of her freshman self. However, she also reminded me of the really great stuff she did her freshman year with a couple defense and offensive plays.

Jana didn't get as much playing time as I'd have liked her to get but the minutes she did get? Effective as hell and I can't wait for her to geting into the starting-lineup.

Morgan's a SHOOTER. And boy did we need shooting because 3's? Not our thing at all tonight.

Allie wasn't really a factor tonight but she also didn't feel like a burden so you really can't complain because her main job is to go out there, not be a liability, maybe make some things shake so that the starters can get their much needed rest.

Overall I don't think was a particularly great game. The first half was practically a Paige carry-job which is great for the agressive!P agenda but it's USF and I don't love that we were so dependent on her. The third quarter was pretty good (made up for the last one agianst BU) and the fourth quarter showed that we're still learning how to navigate without Paige. Again, its really early and the fact that we won by so much just shows how much talent we have and how high our floor is, which means out ceiling is waaaay higher.

Free. Throws. We don't get as many as we should as it is so please, please, please, make them.

Three point defense needs a fair amount of work.

Caroline is still wearing earplugs and I just wanna give the girl a hug.

Paige and Azzi finally got to sit to next to each other and immediately started yapping as if they don't do that all day?

[deltaharrington]

JEALOUSY, JEALOUSY PT. 1 [SEASON 3 SPOILERS]

PAIRING: JJ Maybank x Female!Kook!Reader

WARNINGS: SEASON 3 SPOILERS AHEAD, doubt, social class degradation.

SUMMARY: JJ is in love with the reader but she’s just like Sarah; a Kook out of her element.

When you arrived back in the OBX with the Pogues, you weren’t expecting things to go back to normal.

For starters, your parents had moved back upstate to the main house, leaving the beach house they owned empty. You were heartbroken, but too angry at them to even call and tell them you were alright.

You split from the group with Sarah, needing to go home to get some fresh clothes. Halfway there you were reminded that a certain blonde didn’t have anyone to go home to either.

JJ Maybank.

At that thought, you made your way back to the cut and to JJ’s house, where he was sitting by his bike.

“Come stay at my house” You spoke and he looked shocked at bow blunt you were with him.

You and JJ met through Sarah and became almost instant friends. JJ was a bit wary of you at first due to your Kook status, but after a while, he warmed up.

JJ had always been jealous of how carefree you seemed. Even though you had a family and a future, you didn’t care to help the Pogues.

That made him angry sometimes.

A few times he had expressed his anger, either lashing out and yelling at you, or releasing his anger on inanimate objects. JJ should have scared you off.

But he didn’t.

You understood his pain. You understood his jealousy. You understood him. More than he believed to be true.

“What? Y/n, I’m okay here I don’t need-“ He started to protest but you cut him off, taking a step closer to him.

“We both don’t have anyone right now…please J” You said and JJ felt his heart tug. Your parents had left you?

JJ nodded his head and moved to get on his bike, leaving you a bit confused. He turned back to look at you with a smirk on his face.

“Get on, pretty girl” He said “You didn’t think we’d walk did you?” He added and you laughed, hopping on the back of the bike, wrapping your arms around his lower torso.

“To Figure 8 we go” JJ said and revved the bike up, on his way to your house.

How an argument started between you both was a mystery to you. As soon as you walked in, JJ’s jealousy of the Kook lifestyle overrode his thoughts and he blurted out things he shouldn’t have.

At that, you fought back.

“You’re a real asshole, you know that?” You said to the blonde, who was facing you with anger and hurt in his eyes.

“I’m the asshole? Says the goddamn Kook!” JJ countered and hurt flashed in your eyes, making him regret even calling you a Kook.

“I didn’t choose this, JJ.” you said calmly and he nodded his head apologetically.

“I didn’t mean that…m’sorry.” JJ said and you sighed, nodding understandingly.

“You can shower here, do whatever you want” You said, and made your way towards your room. You didn’t realize JJ had followed you.

You peeled your shirt off your back as soon as you got into the bathroom, revealing cuts and bruises on your back. You were about to untie your bikini when a soft hand touched your shoulder.

You jumped with a gasp as JJ moved to look at your wounds.

“Did Singh’s men do this?” He asked and you nodded your head.

“When we ran before we caught two of them, one knocked me down and he just kept hitting me over and over and over…” You trailed off and JJ looked hurt himself.

“Y/n..” JJ said as tear welled in your eyes. He held his arms open and you fell into his embrace, letting out the emotions you were feeling.

It felt good to have someone there. Especially JJ.

“Thank you, JayJ” You said and he hummed in response, looking down at you, already looking at him.

You both leaned in at the same time, emotions overwhelming you. JJ ghosted his lips over yours before he finally kissed you.

You weren’t expecting him to actually give in, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer as your lips moved in sync.

Before anything more could happen, JJ pulled away, a frown on his face. This confused you and you were about to say something when he cut you off.

“We can’t” He started “What are we doing?” JJ finished and you were hurt, but you didn’t show it.

“Yeah- I’m sorry” You whispered and he nodded, apologizing as well.

“I need to shower, so…I’ll see you in a bit?” You said and he nodded his head, leaving you alone in your bathroom.

What the hell just happened?

“JJ?” You questioned after finally getting yourself ready. You wore a bikini top and some shorts, expecting to go out eventually.

The blonde looked up from his spot on your couch. You were perched at the top of your staircase.

He looked good.

He wore a green shirt and a blue hat with white accents.

“Want to go to the Chateau?” You asked the blonde and he nodded his head, moving to grab all his stuff.

“J, you can stay here.” You said to him and he shook his head “Please, I don’t want to be alone”

JJ looked like he was debating with himself before he finally nodded, putting his stuff back.

“Let’s go see the others” You said and began to walk towards the door.

JJ followed you like a lost puppy, not knowing where things stood between you two.

“Fuck” He said to himself, shaking his head.

TO BE CONTINUED…

[san8ny]

if you don’t mind can you do mom Dina x fem mom reader who meet through a mommy and me class (both of them are single moms bc I don’t like cheating 😭)

YOU’LL HAVE TO MISS ME - Dina x Fem! Reader

an: first dina stuff, i love her sm :(

—

Grief was a funny thing.

It was both subjective, and difficult.

Anyone can feel grief, yet deal with it differently than otthers would.

Before you sister passed, did you have the best relationship? Fuck no.

So, why did you feel obligated to drop everything and take in her bastard child?

Gurbles and burps interrupt your bleak thoughts as you look at the child tiredly through your view-finder, car parked infront of a place commonly recommended to you.

Once the minute has passed and you feel lesser anxiety, you unbuckle your seatbelt and exit the vehicle, opening the backseat door to your 5-month old niece, strapped in her baby carrier securely with a pacifier in her mouth.

You stare at her blankly, trying to fight the small smile that makes it’s way to your face as you pick her up, up and at ‘em, putting her on your hip as you gather her small bag of items on your other shoulder. This mommy shit was starting to grow on you. Just a few months ago, you were living in your cramped studio apartment with barely anything in the fridge to feed yourself, and now you had filled it to the brim with formula and starter food.

You’re sat in a circle with other women, mostly olders with you and some other girl being the obviously younger ones. Some women stare at you in what seems like respect, and others in blatant pity, probably whispering in contempt about how disgusting it is you got knocked up so young.

If only they knew, a tick reads in your head.

There’s an overly joyous women leading this, who you can only assume is the instructor, asking you all in an overly-babying and condescending voice what your names were.

Once it gets to you, you blink a few times, gathering what to say.

“We’re wearing name-tags though..”

“The babies can’t read, silly!”

Your face turns a shadely plum as you clear your throat, not what I meant..

“Right..”

You eventually say your name begrudgingly, the baby sitting on your lap letting out another comedically timed burp that you only softly pat her back at.

“Alright, now, we’ll turn to our shoulder partners and introduce eachother to one another!”

You nod to yourself as turn to the woman besides you, a child slightly older than your own sitting on her thigh.

“Uh, what’s your name.” You ask, tone less than a general asked question. She answers nonetheless— not that she had a choice.

“Dina.”

You nod in acknowledgment, looking anywhere but at her to fill the quiet gap. She was pretty to say the least, looks ‘round your age..maybe even slightly older, but not dramatically. You tell her your own name as you take out a warm bottle for your niece from your cross -bag.

“How old is he?” Dina whispers, leaning back now with her child on the blanketed floor, crawling.

He? Can you even blame her? The baby was wearing an ugly onesie your ex at the time found at a Five&Below when you initially (abruptly) were granted custody which albeit, was a tad too big for her at the time but came in handy now, reminding you bittersweetly of how you had to drop out of college to become a mother quickly.

“Oh, uh, she’s 5 months right now.”

Dina looks at you with slightly widened eyes. “5 months? You look great..” She somewhat compliments.

You thank her, awkwardly chuckling as you place the infant laid on the blanketed floor back into your arms securely,

“They have a dad’s day next week, y’know?” She informs you, smiling as she not-so subtly drinks you in,

“Thank you for telling me, but, uh, she doesn’t have a dad.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah..”

Dina looks at you solemnly, “I’m so sorry for your loss..”

“No! No! He’s not dead, I mean, I wouldn’t know him in the first place but—“

“Oh! Well, that isn’t anything to be shamed for! Sexual liberation is progression, you’ll find him one day—”

“This is my niece.” You finally get across, massaging your temples at the misinterpreting while Dina’s mouth gradually forms an ‘O.’ You remind yourself of why these sessions were going to be a pain in the ass.

Speaking of sessions, this thing was longer than you expected..

Dina speaks up again shortly after a while, apologizing for her quick mouth as you wave a hand in dismissal, it wasn’t her fault, but she felt some sort of guilt for her brashness. “It’s fine, I get it all the time. Not easy explaining but i’m use to it.”

“Yeah, I get you. My uh, ex-boyfriend died some time ago, so i’m constantly assuming anyone who’s in here has got a similar situation.” Dina says softly, her tone a bit bittersweet as she recalls her former, now deceased, partner

Ah..

You both begin conversing as the time goes by— swapping eachothers babies to hold, talking about backstories, etc— coming here was semi worth it.

Eventually, Dina and you exchange numbers when the time comes, you bite your chapped lips as she walks herself to her ride, a red-head in the drivers seat who taps away at the steering wheel quite impatiently. Girlfriend maybe? You tsk at the discouraging thought, walking yourself to your own car and getting your, now asleep, niece inside her car-seat.

“MILFS, huh..” you murmur to yourself, fiddling with the scrapling of paper with her digits on as you start the engine before throwing it out the window. Fuck were you saying? You didn’t have time for this shit.

“We don’t have time for this, huh?” You murmur to the baby, smiling softly as you begin driving.

[reorientation]

Your blog really motivated me to confront some of my delusions. I went on Grindr and messaged the chaser I've been ignoring, that has been texting me for weeks. I apologised for not answering and asked him if he could help set me straight. He's all for it. We're going to meet this Thursday, he said he will fuck the woman back into me 🥰 Do you have any tips on making this a successful part of my detransition?

Oh, good girl! What an important step forward - every misled girl needs a real man's help.

As for tips... Well, for starters, it's important for you to remember that he can't fuck the womanhood back into you because it never left.

When he's using your pussy, focus on that - that he can only fuck you like that because your body was made to be claimed by men. Focus on the feeling of getting wet for him, of your cunt preparing itself to take a man's cock. Focus on how vulnerable it feels to be opened up for his pleasure - and remember that the whole purpose of sex is for him to take pleasure from you and leave his seed in your womb.

If you focus properly, him fucking you won't just be a reminder of your place - it'll help you understand.

[milaisreading]

🌱🩷: Smn requested a pt2 of the U-20 team meeting crossdresser!Yn. So here it is!

Warnings: Reader uses she/her. In the story the boys will be using he/him when addressing Yn. Requests for this series are open.

⚽️Blue Lock belongs to Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura⚽️

"Hmmm?" Sendou squinted his eyes as he observed the Blue Lock team.... well, the starters more than anybody else. They were all somewhat interesting, but also boring to some regards, yet he couldn't stop looking at them. Or, better yet, a certain person in the team. The (h/c) haired striker of the team certainly stood out, as he looked way more... softer(?) than the rest of his team. Even his movements weren't like those from the other guys.

"Hey, Sendou. Stop staring into space and listen to what Aiku is saying." Hayate said lazily as Teru and Teppei nodded their heads.

"Yeah, we need to win this game."

"Sae is already being annoying with how 'lukewarm' we are." Cho rolled his eyes as Niou sent the older Itoshi and Shidou death glares.

"Sorry... it's just... that Blue Lock striker over there is very odd." Sendou said as he discreetly pointed at (Y/n), who was busy talking with Hiori and Kurona about something.

"Odd? He is just standing." Niou pointed out.

"Also, you being distracted resulted in him scoring the 2nd goal." Itsuki added in.

Sendou blushed in embarrassment and glared at his teammates.

"Shut it! And he is odd. Even the way he is standing is odd. It's as if I am seeing one of those idol girls."

"You have completely lost it." Teppei said calmly.

"Maybe we should limit your TV and internet access." Teru suggested.

"What are you all talking about now?" Oliver raised an eyebrow as he and Miroku approached them.

"Sendou think that (L/n) guy is a girl." Hayate simply stated.

"I never said he was a girl! I just said he reminds me of those idol girls!" The boy flushed a bright red.

"Oookkay..." Oliver said as he looked over at the said player.

"Regardless, let's just play now. Sae is already being an ass to me."

"Deserved." Miroku and Niou added in.

"Hey!"

As the 3 bickered, Sendou turned to look at the striker again. Sadly, this time, he wasn't as secretive, and Hiori noticed his staring, drawing (Y/n)'s attention to it. The two made brief eye contact, and Sendou swore he could feel his heart doing a flip or two as he stared into the player's eyes.

'Just what is it about you?'

Sendou thought that his encounter with the striker would end when the match ended, but no! They actually met up again at that karaoke bar, and again, Sendou had this weird feeling about the striker.

'He is just too perfect with girls... as if he knows first hand what they want to hear.' Sendou thought as he watched the boy's interaction with the two older girls. Meanwhile, Hayate, Teru, and Miroku were making fun of a pouting Oliver. Sendou watched as the striker's friends pulled him away from the girls.

"Stop being weird, Sendou." Cho warned the redhead.

"What?"

"You are staring at the dude like he killed someone." Teppei noted.

"Please, whatever sort of weird feelings you have for him, sort it out. It's getting stressful to watch." Niou added in as Sendou flushed a deep red as he tried to deny that statement. Itsuki snickered a little.

"You do have a weird fixation." Miroku said, walking over to the group.

"Bachira, please don't make a scene!" (Y/n) yelled as he pulled him away from an argument with Oliver.

"He does remind me of a idol tho... I have to give it to Sendou for noticing it first." Hayate added in.

"Please don't tell me you have been staring too." Niou groaned.

"In my defense, he is cute." Sendou grumbled at the statement Hayate made, and got even more agitated as Miroku and Teru agreed.

"So, a bowling match it is!" Oliver exclaimed, getting the attention of the rest of the team.

"What?" Niou wondered.

"We agreed to a bowling match with you guys." (Y/n) spoke up as she tried to get Bachira off of her arm.

"Losers buy the winners food." The (h/c) haired striker finished.

"Well, in our case Reo is buying the food." Chigiri and Isagi snickered.

"Aiyah... I guess. Bachira, can you let go of my arm now?"

"No." The bicolored boy said, which caused Chigiri and Isagi to grab onto Bachira to pull him off of (Y/n).

"There goes my hoodie." She sighed as the U-20 team watched in amusement... well, except for Oliver.

"And you! Blue Lock's number 12!"

"Ha?" The four looked at him in confusion, as the U-20 team sighed in defeat.

"Here we go." Cho and Teru said quietly.

"When the bowling game ends... how about you be a good brother to me and tell me your tricks on how you swooned those two girls soe easily." Oliver grinned, putting a  arm around (Y/n)'s shoulder.

"What?" The girl asked, dumbfounded by the statement.

"Why is he touching (Y/n)?"

"I don't know... doesn't he have a disease or something?"

"His breath probably smells, too." Isagi, Chigiri, and Bachira commented among themselves, trying to hold themselves back from ripping Oliver away from their striker.

"Eh... I don't know." (Y/n) raised an eyebrow as Oliver pulled her out of the room.

"Hey!" The three Blue Lock players protested.

"Hold it right there! Where are you going with (Y/n)?!" Otoya's voice was heard from down the hallway.

"That's not how you hold a bowling ball, Hayate-san." (Y/n) noted as she watched the white-haired boy struggle holding the ball.

"What?" The taller raised an eyebrow.

"You need to grab tightly onto it with all 3 fingers... that's way too loose." (Y/n) showed the shaky hand that was holding the ball. Although she didn't play or like this sport much, she knew some rules.

"You might injure your hand like that." She said simply finished as Hayate observed her hand for a moment and then repeated the same hold.

"Thanks."

"Welcome, let's have a fair game then." (Y/n) said as Hayate was about to say something, but the girl got pulled away by Nagi. The U-20 player watched with some new found interest the striker.

'Odd... but Sendou was right... there is something about the number 12 that isn't like the rest...' The white haired boy thought.

"You think that something is weird about him too, don't you?" Sendou suddenly spoke up from behind Hayate, who slowly nodded his head.

"There really is."

"Hey, you two! Focus! I need those tips from (Y/n)." Oliver warned the duo, who looked at him in confusion.

"What?"

"I made (Y/n) promise to give me tips about girls, if we win." Oliver simply stated.

"You... are getting dating tips from your junior?" Cho asked in disbelief.

"This is gold. I wish I had my camera with me." Miroku chuckled as Niou held in a laughter. Teppei tried to calm everyone down, but he did find this whole ordeal funny.

"Shut it!" Oliver yelled with an embarrassed blush as Teru and Itsuki patted their captain's back, silently laughing as well.