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nereidprinc3ss · 7 months ago

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strange perfections

in which spencer reid and fem!reader meet by accident at a coffee shop. and then they keep meeting there. they've really got to stop meeting like this. (no, seriously. hotch is pissed.) / do you believe me now? bonus chapter!

series masterlist

fluff! warnings/tags: meet cute:) some dark humor, romantically inexperienced reader, spencer reid graduated from caltech, mit, and the derek morgan school of rizz a/n: this can absolutely be read as a standalone BUT it was written as a prologue for my series do you believe me now? to explain how spencer and r met! completely optional, if you're only here for the smut no worries! reading this bonus chapter might make the next chapter better though as it contains discussions of how they met:) anyway, I LOVE YOU!! let me know if you like this silly little random thing! kisses

The café door opens again. A blustery wind raises goosebumps on your arms and makes your bones ache again. You look up at the latest intruder—a hobbling elderly man in a newsboy cap and a knit red scarf.

Stupid scarf, you think.

Stupid door.

Stupid wind.

Your mug is empty, and the table you’re sitting at is sort of sticky and rickety, and there are so many papers in front of you that you wonder why the hell you thought it’d be a good idea to print the PDF out and annotate it that way instead of just doing it on your laptop like a normal person in the 21st century. Nothing is going right today. It’s the third café you’ve tried in the past few weeks as you attempt to find some place that feels homey, lucky, but this one just feels… inconvenient.

You look at the stack of papers and sigh.

Stupid Lord Byron.

Stupid cafe.

Usually, cafés are relatively quiet and peaceful—a refuge for the overworked to bask in the luxury of quiet jazz and the smell of dark roast as they continue to overwork themselves. This particular establishment, however, today hosts a group of teenagers—presumably playing hooky—who have commandeered a big booth in the back and keep walking right past your table because apparently they couldn’t have just ordered their drinks at once and they all have to do it separately and loudly.

One of them has an incredibly irritating, gratingly pubescent laugh, and they think everything is hilarious. This whole situation is unbearable.

Just as you’re gearing up to go, of course the fucking door opens again. This time, it’s accompanied by a particularly strong gust.

Strong enough that Lord Byron doesn’t stand a chance.

Your printed copy of his works blows off the table, at first page by painstakingly annotated page and then before you can even process it, all at once.

Yeah. This is definitely not your lucky café.

As you curse and go to stand up, you run into one of those dumb kids. His huge ceramic mug goes flying, careening against the edge of your table and completely splattering you and all your stuff in 16 liquid ounces of scalding espresso and milk.

It’s silent for a second, save for a few drips from the puddle on your table to the floor, before the kid is apologizing profusely and turning red as a tomato. You can’t even respond—you look down at your ruined favorite sweater, and then around at the pages of Byron littered with color-coded sticky notes, overflowing with angry and purposeful red ink that you spent so much time on, scattered all over the floor.

Eventually the boy catches on that you’re not going to forgive him and he skitters away, back to his friends, who whisper and giggle profusely. Only a few of them get up to start gathering the fallen pages with you. Several other patrons end up helping as well, so the sheets of paper are gathered and returned into your sticky hands fairly quickly. You thank each person without looking up as they hand you their respective stack. All you want is to get out of here.

“Here—I’m really sorry about this,” someone says—a tenor-ish male voice, distinctly sympathetic as he holds out a rather larger stack of papers than anyone else had bothered to pick up.

“I’ll live,” you sigh, straightening up. “But thank… you.”

The man standing in front of you is the kind of man who makes you want to untuck your hair from its usual spot behind your ears, and to stand up straighter, and to try and not stare even though you want his attention. He’s gloriously beautiful in a way that repels and attracts you. He’s the type of man who wouldn’t have given you the time of day in high school and probably wouldn’t now. Instantly you feel both insecure and reduced to a former version of you who would simper and fawn over boys who wanted nothing to do with her. You feel like going to the other side of the café and sitting in the best light and staring out the window poetically and hoping he’s looking at you.

“On the one hand, I feel bad for being the person who opened the door and let the wind in. On the other… I feel compelled to say at least they’re not covered in coffee like the rest of your table is?”

You laugh vacantly, a second too late, positively coveting the awkward smile on his angular face. Then you make eye contact, and his eyes are so the opposite of angular—they’re huge and inviting and the warmest golden-brown you’ve ever seen, and they’re looking right back at you—and you have to look down. Fuck. You hate when you do that.

Think of something normal to say!

“Yeah, true. Now I just have to reorder 264 pages. That… that don’t have page numbers.”

You shuffle through the papers. They are hopelessly scrambled. Your heart sinks just a bit.

“Um… I might actually be able to help with that, if you want?”

You frown, glancing up. What kind of sex trafficking ploy is this?

“That’s okay. Might be easier with just one person.”

He laughs—it’s similarly awkward, similarly endearing.

“Do you mind letting me just… try? It’ll only take a minute.”

Only take a minute? Is this beautiful man deranged? Why are the hot ones always crazy?

But, perhaps because you’re a pushover who can’t stand up to people, much less beautiful people, much less beautiful men who are paying you undue attention, you find yourself giving in. You hold the stack out.

“Sure. Give it your best shot. I’ll be impressed if you can even figure out what page one is.”

He’s already flipping through the papers with a drawn brow, walking away with them, and barely looking over his shoulder as he mutters, “I have Byron memorized. It shouldn’t be too difficult.”

You follow him, because hello, he has all your annotations. He’s definitely insane, you think, as he sits down at a table and starts rapidly sorting the sheets into separate piles.

All you can do is stand awkwardly behind him as he stacks papers seemingly at random, barely glancing at them before deciding where they go.

Maybe a minute, maybe a few go by, each of which have you progressively more flabbergasted, before he’s tapping the edges of a stack of paper on the table and standing, handing them to you with his lips pressed into a thin pleasant line. There’s almost a glow about him—like he couldn’t be more in his comfort zone.

“There you go. Should be in order now.” You sport a frown bordering on a grimace as you take the stack and flip through it a bit. Sure enough, it seems that everything is in order. You keep looking between the man in front of you and the papers, incredulous as you wait for something to be in the wrong spot.

“How did you do that?”

His cheeks turn slightly pink.

“I know Byron really well. I know how each passage ends and begins so I put them together like puzzle pieces.”

“How did you read that fast?”

“Uh. I’m a speed-reader?”

You scoff, taking another look through the stack.

“I think that may be underselling it.” A thought occurs to you as you’re grazing over one of your longer annotations—full of expletives and strong opinions. “Oh, god. You didn’t… you didn’t read my notes?”

The man’s eyebrows raise as if he was waiting for you to mention that and he smiles like he doesn’t quite know how to break it to you gently.

“Maybe a few,” he eventually decides, laughing under his breath. “I appreciated the commentary on his relationship with Augusta. It was… colorful.”

Heat rises in your cheeks as you mumble.

“Yeah, I had a hard time appreciating the romantic poems. They’re less cute when there’s like a fifty percent chance he’s writing about his sister.”

“Half sister,” he corrects. You give him a look.

“Does that make it better?”

“… no,” he realizes. “Not even a little bit.”

You laugh, relieved that his face looks as warm as yours feels.

“Well… thank you, for the help,” you say after a silent second.

“Of course. Sorry, again. I, um—I hope your day gets better?”

“Yeah, well. I feel like statistically it has to, right? It’s kind of a low bar.”

He smiles, a perfect, perfect smile, and gives you a little wave as he leaves. Without coffee. Checking the clock on the wall, you realize it’s approaching one in the afternoon. If he’d been here on his lunch break, he sacrificed it to organize your stupid Byron texts. You smile to yourself.

He was totally in love with me.

And he can’t prove me wrong because I’ll probably never see him again.

All things considered—this coffee shop does seem pretty lucky. Maybe you’ll stick with it for a while.

The next time you see the mysterious sexy speed reader is four days later—though you’ve been here every day since. He catches your eye right as he walks in, and his brows jump in pleasant recognition. You smile. He smiles back, before going up to the counter and ordering a coffee with a ludicrous amount of sugar in it.

I should take note for when I make him his coffee in the mornings, you think to yourself, and then you snort at your own delusions, shaking your head at your book. Obviously you’re not that divorced from reality, but you’ll entertain the fantasy forever until one of you stops showing up to this café.

What you’re absolutely not expecting is for him to walk up to your table with his to-go cup.

“Hi,” he says.

“Hi!”

Jesus. Tone it down, girl scout.

He gestures to your stack of papers: now secured in a three ring binder. The cup says Spencer.

Spencer. Spencer.

It feels important.

“I see you’ve upgraded.”

“Yes! Yes, I did,” you laugh self-consciously, still struggling to meet his eyes. “Thank you for the help the other day. I would still be sorting through all of this if it weren’t for that, so… yeah. Thanks.”

“Of course! I’m glad I could be of use.”

“Spence!” Someone calls from the cafe door. You both look up to see a stunning blonde beckoning him away.

Ah. Naturally. The girlfriend who is one trillion times prettier than you.

Spence.

Reality sets in.

“Coming!” He replies, with all the eager compliance of a child, before turning back to you. “Um… well… I’ll see you?”

It’s an awkward way to say goodbye to a stranger, but you suddenly don’t care enough to dwell. Instead you nod once, less enthusiastic now that you know he has a 10 waiting for him on the sidewalk.

“I am a creature of habit.”

Another wave as he walks away.

The two disappear from the doorway, but the perpetual breeze seems to carry a snatched bit of conversation your way.

“Who was that?”

“Uh… I don’t actually know.”

Yeah. Reality definitely sets in.

Over the next few days, you break your café streak. Life is busy. There’s not always time to artfully ponder Romantic poetry and drink a six dollar coffee while waiting around for certain people to show up.

Okay, so… maybe it has more to do with him than you’re letting on. But you’re not going to do that thing you do again, where you become limerently obsessed with a man you don’t know and who is way out of your league just because you can’t form an actual attachment to anyone to save your life. Besides, you remind yourself; we probably wouldn’t be compatible anyway. He’s probably a huge loser. Or secretly a douche. Or chews with his mouth open. Obviously nobody that attractive can also have a good personality.

Not to mention he has a girlfriend. That should put you off, too.

But you hadn’t been lying when you’d proclaimed to be a creature of habit—you return to the café once you feel sufficiently detached from this Spencer character.

He’s there. Of course he’s there. Why had you been expecting for him to not be there? It’s not like he was a figment of your imagination.

This time he’s accompanied by a different blonde woman—a bespectacled blonde with a big floral headband and a patterned dress and a red cardigan and tights and heels that look self-injurious. She’s quite eye-catching; you want to keep looking at her, but you seem to draw her attention, too. Her big eyes widen minutely and briefly you wonder if you’re supposed to know her, but certainly you’d remember meeting a person like that. She doesn’t seem easily forgettable. Both of you look to Spencer at the same time, who’s looking between you with an almost panicked expression.

“Oh! Th—” the woman whispers, cutting herself off when she realizes how loud she’s being in the otherwise silent establishment. “Ah! Okay, right. Never mind.”

Spencer sighs. You want to laugh, but you’re baffled by the whole thing. So you go back to reading.

Ten minutes later, they draw your attention once more.

“Go, go ahead! It’s more problematic for you to be late than me. I’ll be like, thirty seconds tops.”

You don’t look up as Spencer leaves the café—but are you supposed to gather that these two eccentric individuals are coworkers? And what of the first blonde woman, who you’d presumed to be his girlfriend? Where is she?

While you’re wondering all of this, the new blonde teeters her way over to your table.

“Hi!” She says pleasantly, waving a purple-tipped hand and wearing the biggest grin.

“Uh… hi?”

“I’m Penelope. You’ve met my friend Spencer. He just left.”

“Oh—sort of,” you smile weakly, closing your book. “Not formally. I didn’t know his name.”

That’s a lie, but maybe feigning non-chalance will make it real.

“Well, I just wanted to come over and say I love your bag. And your jewelry and your coat. I love your whole look. I bet you’re a really cool person.”

“Um—thank you!” You perk up, smiling genuinely now. The compliment warms you—you didn’t think your look was all that interesting today. “You too. I love your outfit.”

“Great! You’re—you’re great. This is good information. Um… just out of, like, sheer curiosity, could I get your name, age, and occupation? Oh—and your zodiac sign?”

What kind of convoluted sex trafficking ploy—

“Garcia!”

Spencer is at the doorway again, looking adorably miffed.

Adorable? Get a grip.

“Wh—I’m just making a new friend! Is friendship illegal, now?”

“This is the kind of friend-making that gets you a restraining order,” he urges.

You look up at Penelope Garcia, enamored by their whole dynamic. They clearly care for each other, despite the squabbling. What kind of job do they have where they talk to each other like this?

“It’s fine,” you smile, introducing yourself to her.

“That is such a good name!” She says, and you’re getting the sense she’s kind of always this enthusiastic. “So now we know each other’s names—we should probably definitely be friends, right?”

“Yeah! Um, definitely!”

“Yes? Oh my god! I love this! Okay, um—we work at Quantico, so, we’re like, 10 minutes away—but this is better than the coffee shop that’s closest to the building, so we come here all the time. Usually it’s just us and five grouchy old men, which makes this is really exciting.”

“Quantico… that’s the FBI academy, right?”

“Other stuff, too,” she nods, still smiley.

Oh! Cool. So they’re FBI agents.

So that’s cool.

You’re cool with that.

Her phone starts ringing—she locks eyes with Spencer.

“Hotch?”

“Ooh, we are in trouble,” Penelope sing-songs, leaning down to write her number on your notebook without asking. Not that you mind, of course. She adds a little heart and a smiley face next to her name before capping your pen and toddling away. “Bye, new friend!” She calls over her shoulder, waving goodbye with just her fingers.

“Bye,” you manage, though it’s probably too quiet.

Spencer flattens his mouth into an approximation of a smile and waves again.

You accidentally find yourself mirroring his goodbye, facial expression and all. Fuck. You hope he doesn’t notice. You hope he doesn’t read into it.

Nah. Boys are dumb.

You text Penelope later that afternoon—a simple greeting so that she can save your number—and then you forget about it.

It’s not until five days go by without sign of any of them—the two blondes, Spencer, this mysterious and foreboding Hotch figure—that you start to seriously question your sanity. Did they drop off the face of the planet, or what?

But of course, just as you’re sitting at your usual table, Spencer walks in. Alone.

He sees you immediately, but instead of the wave you’d come to expect, he immediately flushes, looks down at his shoes and hurries into the small lunch-rush line.

Weird.

You corner him at the coffee bar, where he’s adding more sugar to his coffee. How are his teeth so nice if he does this to himself every single day?

“Hey,” you say, affecting casual confidence as you bus your empty mug. “… Spencer, right?”

It’s comical how you’re pretending you haven’t turned that name over and looked at it from every angle hundreds of times since the first time you heard it.

He nods, only glancing up at you as he stirs. To your surprise, he knows your name, too. When you give him an odd look, he smiles almost apologetically, finally looking at your face for longer than half a second.

“I heard you introducing yourself to Penelope. Sorry if that’s…”

“No, no! Is she around, today? I texted her last week, but she never responded...”

“Today is operating system update day, so I don’t even really have a way of knowing if she’s alive in her office.” It’s funny to him, but you just smile, baffled. He notices your silence and catches on, scrambling to explain himself. “She’s our tech analyst. There are 243 computers in our building and she has to update them all remotely, which requires getting every agent to agree to not touch their computer at the same time for an hour or so.”

“Oh… does the FBI not have, like… an IT guy, or something?”

He laughs again—the way his eyes crinkle when he does it makes you a little breathless.

“You should say that to her. I think you would become her favorite person.”

It’s hard not to smile when he’s smiling because of you—however indirectly that may be. Quickly you realize you’ve both been standing in front of the coffee bar for too long.

“Alright, well… tell her good luck, for me?”

“I would, but I’ve been kicked out for an hour while she does the updates.”

Your brow furrows and you laugh.

“From the whole building? You just can’t keep your hands off your computer for an hour?”

“Not if I want to do my job, no. And I am kind of obsessive about my job. I’ve been the reason she had to start the whole process over again before and I’d rather not be that person again.”

You say it before you can think too hard.

“Well, if you have an hour to kill… there’s an open seat at my table? No pressure, obviously.”

And that was the first of thousands of hours you would come to spend with Spencer Reid.

After that, it sort of becomes a regular thing. He comes almost every day—except for occasional week or so long stretches, which you have discovered are a part of his absolutely fucking insane job—and sits with you, sometimes with Penelope, once with the other blonde, JJ, who you’ve since deduced is not his girlfriend, most often alone. Usually he can’t spare more than ten minutes, but he begins pushing it, little by little, until thirty minutes go by and you think surely his boss (the great and all-powerful Hotchner) must be beginning to notice.

One day, during your usual lunchtime rendezvous, his phone rings. He talks right on through it, like it’s not happening.

It ceases. And then it starts again.

Your head drops to your shoulder, something like pity or regret softening your features. He catches your eye and melts slightly, mid-sentence—like he knows you’re about to tell him to be responsible.

“Do you think you should…”

His hands drop from where they’d been enthusiastically positioned mid-air.

“They’ll be fine if I’m late from lunch one time. I’m usually more punctual than any of them.”

You roll your lip between your teeth—it’s not that you want to tell him to go; in fact, those delusions you’ve been harboring about your future life together are only getting worse with each inexplicable minute he entertains your company.

But his job is important.

“What if you have a case?”

“Then I would have gotten more calls from more people by now.”

Your head tips back as you laugh lightly at his unwavering insistence.

“I’m flattered that you so enjoy my company that much. But I can’t with good conscience keep taking up your work hours like this.”

As the laughter fades, he just… watches you, lips slightly parted, eyes intense but not entirely present.

“You’re probably right,” he finally breathes. “Maybe… you should start taking up my other hours, instead?”

Spencer Reid, you unexpected charmer.

You balk.

“Like… we would hang out? At a different time of day? Not here?”

“Those are the basic premises, yes,” he chuckles, nodding affably. “I’ve never actually seen you anywhere else. For all I know you could be a ghost eternally tethered to this building.”

“Where would this hanging out take place?”

Fuck, you’re totally being weird. His brow knits.

“I don’t know. Where else do people hang out?”

He’s not genuinely asking you, he’s gently turning you in the right direction. You charge forward blindly.

“Restaurants.”

There’s that pretty smile of his again, the one that makes all the thoughts drain from your head like cold bathwater. Though, there’s a sort of mischievous edge to it now that you haven't seen before.

“That’s certainly an option. If I asked you to hang out with me at a restaurant... would you say yes?”

You look down. God, your face feels warm.

“Would you be asking me out on a date? In this hypothetical scenario that we’ve constructed, I mean.”

Spencer seems to think about it for a moment, which fills you with unexpected panic. When you look back up anxiously, he has the same smile on his face, but his eyes are a little softer now.

“I would.”

More panic sets in—just a bit. But you don’t let what is undoubtedly a tidal wave of anxiety break through the emotional guard-dam. Keep it together. This is a good thing. This is what you wanted.

Unfortunately, you are perhaps more transparent than you’d realized. Spencer begins to look slightly worried, leaning forward in his chair.

“You don’t have to say yes. I know we don’t know each other very well, I just—”

“No!” You find yourself assuring him, though you curse yourself because you kind of want to know what he was going to say. “I would say yes. I’ve just, um—god,” you laugh gustily, self-consciously. “Sorry I’m being so weird. I’m out of my depth. Nobody’s asked me on a date before. I don’t really know the etiquette.”

Spencer chuckles.

“You’re doing great. Don’t worry about it.”

Not, what?

Not, you’ve never been on a date before?

Not, that’s crazy, or that’s weird, or how have you gone your whole life without being asked out?

With the implication being, you’re odd. Different. Maybe not in a good way.

He says none of that.

“But I should probably actually ask you, huh?” His cheeks turn pink as his laughter is redirected inwards.

“Sounds like a good first step.”

Spencer is still smiling as he says your name and it sounds so good from his mouth. It makes you sound so real.

“Will you go on a date with me?”

Butterflies in your stomach doesn't begin to brush what you're experiencing—your entire abdominal cavity is like a Monarch sanctuary.

“I’d love to.”

He seems genuinely relieved as he beams, slumping back in his chair.

“Oh, thank god. I was so nervous you’d say no. I never do that. Thank you for not saying no. Not that you couldn’t have said no—it would have been completely fine and obviously within your rights to—”

His phone rings again. Both of you are relieved that he was interrupted—but admittedly you thought his rambling was super cute.

“I should—”

“You definitely need to go.”

“Yeah,” he agrees with a still-breathless smile. “Um—what’s your number?”

You look around fruitlessly for pen and paper.

“I don’t—”

“Just tell me. I’ll remember.”

He’s so weird.

A breeze hits your skin as he opens the door. You’re already writing your wedding vows in the back of your mind as you watch him go.

part four

#spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic

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dumb-bitchass · 1 year ago

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Fight Club~ dating headcanons

a/n. i did NOT know other people were actively reading fight club fics here- thought i was the only one who checked the tags religiously. so anyway thank you guys for liking my first one

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Tyler:

• bro has ��𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘦 trademarked

• and probably kinky too so you better be prepared

• literally like the best person to cuddle (it grows on him the longer you date)

• he can def support all your weight and likes to completely envelop you with his arms and body

• this man will protect you with his life 100%

• like seriously if someone even looks at you wrong he will throw hands like nothing

• will end someone if you ask him

• will try to teach you martial arts (will he succeed...? do you know yourself enough to answer that question...?)

• if you deal with the strange behaviors and odd hobbies and likes, he'll deal with yours

• struggles showing any real vulnerable emotion with you

• but he's trying for you, i feel like he has it in him

• but right now he shows he loves you in a more physical way

• you know what i mean

• i also feel like he'd be pretty chill in a real relationship so if you want to go somewhere, watch a certain movie, or play with his hair he'll just be like "okay"

• enjoys having deep conversations with you, if you talk with him or just sit and stare and listen

• won't force you to join project mayhem but may entice you

Jack (narrator):

• dating you just thaws his cold emotionless heart

• will get emotionally attached to you after a couple weeks

• bbg

• the only way he can fall asleep is if you're right there next to him

• bonus points if you hold him and let him rest his head on your chest (while running your fingers through his hair)

• writing this has got me giggling and kicking my legs rn

• likes holding your hand while out (or even at home cause he just likes knowing your there)

• is actually a really good listener and will talk you through your problems in a casual way

• and he knows you'll do the same for him which makes him feel safe

• your guyses favorite store to go to is ikea

• you guys like to explore the showrooms and lay on the beds, giggling and pretending to be asleep

• i could fr write ikea headcanons should i do it

• watching a movie on the couch close together until you both fall asleep

• and making fun of all the characters' bad choices along the way

• trying very hard to make breakfast together the next morning (he just ends up making toast cause there's not much in that fridge)

• sleepy kisses :(

• basically he's a sweet baby who needs to be taken care of and if you don't i will find you

#fight club narrator x reader #fight club x reader #fight club headcanons #tyler durden x reader #fight club narrator #tyler durden #fight club

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runningfrom2am · 6 months ago

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cold nights // part thirty-two

summary: the end.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 2.9k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, depictions of mental illness, also she's is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n:

the end!! omg!!guys thank you so much for being here through this whole story and this was LONG!! over 110k words of a lot of nonsense but to anyone who's made it this far,, ilysm. i'm gonna miss them!! stop they were everything to me :(

ANYWAY same with LTPF if you've read that, there will be an epilogue coming soon and also definitely more oneshots and maybe bonus content that i wish i included in the original series but just didn't make the cut. so stay tuned for that!!

if you liked this series, i'm obligated as well to plug my NEXT series that's coming soon, 'requiem'!! i am so excited about it so please follow me for updates on when that will be posted!! def soon!!

just one more time i wanted to say ily, and thank you :')

see you soon!

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // playlist // pinterest board

You keep your books tucked firmly to your chest as you walk into your first class, wearing the spare clothes you brought to Sejanus's house on Friday just in case you had to change. In case you spilled something on your white dress, or just felt the need to change- ironically enough.

Your normal seat in the front centre of the room is obviously free, considering also that you were quite early this morning. You had some readings you needed to catch up on anyway, in order to be prepared for midterms which were apparently coming up quickly.

It isn't long after you open your book before others begin to shuffle in, and much to your surprise, you feel the chair next to you pull back and see someone sit down. "Hi, Victor." The boy's voice says, forcing you to look up from your book.

Dark hair and dark eyes, you think you remember his name was Cancor. "Oh, my name is Y/N." You correct him kindly, adjusting nervously in your seat.

"I know that." He says, eyes merely slits as he seems to look past your own eyes and into your soul.

"You're... You're Cancor, correct? I don't believe we've properly met." You add, sitting up straighter.

"Crane." He states. "My last name is Crane."

"That's... yes that's a lovely name." You smile nervously, unsure what to say but still wanting to fill the silence he seemed so comfortable with. "Alliteration is such a fun thing to consider when naming a child..."

"It means spider." He states. "Did you ever meet my sister?" He asks, ignoring your nervous ramblings.

"No, no I don't believe I have. What is her name?" You ask.

"Arachne." The boy says, raising an eyebrow at you expectantly while you take a moment to wrack your mind to place it. He's acting as if you should know her, and suddenly you feel like you do.

You tilt your head slightly, allowing the memory to hit you like a freight train.

The funeral.

All you really remembered until now was being chained to a truck and paraded down the street you now recognize as the Corso, the body of his sister's tribute swinging above you while people screamed and cursed at you. Then, Coryo sang the national anthem.

"Oh, yes. Of course." You nod slightly, a frown settling over your features. "I am so sorry for your loss. Truly."

"No, you're not." He spits. "You don't care, and the fact that you're pretending to is just vile. She meant less than nothing to you and those animals- otherwise, she would still be here!"

You stammer, pushing yourself back in your seat as you grip the bottom of the chair. "No, no- I am sorry, I am. That should not have happened. It- It was horrible."

"Cancor." You silently thank the universe for your professor's quick intervention. "If you wouldn't mind returning to your usual seat and leaving Miss Y/L/N alone."

"We were just talking." Cancor replies, suddenly sweet as honey- cool and collected as if he wasn't just berating you over your faults in his sister's death.

"Go." Dr. Nero tells him again, nodding up toward the back of the lecture hall. "Before I am forced to ask you to leave."

The boy sighs in quiet frustration, slightly aggressive about his movements as he grabs his bag and stomps up the stairs.

You look up to your professor who greets the look with a curt nod and the smallest of sympathetic smiles.

It does nothing to quell the lightness you feel that usually signifies the trembling of your hands, which would soon spread. You close your eyes trying to take deep breaths that wouldn't come, but all you can see is the bodies of Arachne Crane and her tribute by the bars that had separated them. You have to open your eyes to remind yourself you aren't standing in the street, wrists still shackled to a truck. You can feel the chains weighing your wrists down to the desk as you think about it. You had almost entirely forgotten about the whole event- and the guilt of that was suddenly clawing its way up your throat. Cancor had never had the privilege of forgetting the way you had.

Quickly, you shove your books into your bag and stand, heading for the door. "Y/N." Dr. Nero's voice forces you to stop and you just turn to look at him, knowing full well you're unable to speak. "It's 8:58."

You nod slightly, looking down at the marble flooring that lay between you. "Start without me." You mumble, not giving him the chance to respond before you're leaving, accidentally bumping shoulders with some of the final students to enter.

You hadn't missed a single class yet, attendance was important, but right now you couldn't care less. Why should you even have the privilege of attending classes at the university in place of some of the academy's brightest minds who never got the chance? Like Arachne, and the three other mentors who were killed because of the games. You knew it wasn't necessarily your fault, but you understood Cancor's anger being directed at you. In a twisted way, you felt like you deserved it. They were meant to survive, you never were. Yet, here you were- a walking reminder to those students' friends and families that for some reason, they had to lose someone they shouldn't have.

You quickly pace down the nearly empty hall, trying to hold back your tears as long as you could. Feeling like you can't breathe is making it exponentially harder, and you wonder how you even walked out of the arena as it was. Adrenaline is a crazy beast- and you wished you had some leftover now. Sometimes, in moments like this, you wonder if you had used up your life's supply of the chemical the last time you were here in the Capitol.

Coryo was already running late after spending probably far too long conversing with your brother in the car, but he couldn't resist taking a detour into the arts building. He would just pass through, past your room just to glance inside and see if you were really there. Just to get a look at you.

He doesn't need to, though, turning a corner and just catching a glimpse of your hair as you disappear with a left turn at the end of the corridor. He was sure it was you.

Walking past your classroom he looks anyway, just to double-check, and as he suspected, you were gone.

He quickens his pace, taking advantage of his height difference over you to try and catch up with more rushed steps. "Y/N?" He calls out as he turns the same corner, but you're already hidden from view and the door at the far end of the hall is slamming shut.

As he continues down the corridor, a furrow knits its way into his brow. You must be headed to where you normally eat lunch, that is all that would make sense.

Without thinking, he follows. The courtyard is almost empty, aside from your frame curled up on the grass, knees tucked to your chest and bag discarded halfheartedly beside you on the damp grass. The sun casts a shadowed glow where it isn't blocked by trees or buildings in its path of rising, the grass is wet under his shoes as he quickly approaches you.

"Hey- hey, Y/N/N, it's me." He calls out as he walks up behind you. You turn your head, and then stand quickly.

"It- It's okay. I'm fine." You stammer, wiping your cheeks frantically. "You should g-go, you're already late."

"I'm not leaving you like this." He shakes his head, holding a hand out toward you as you avoid his eyes. "Tell me what happened, love. Talk to me."

You shake your head, shoulders backed to an invisible wall as you hold your palms over your face. You can't look at him right now- especially right now, when all you want is for him to hold you.

"You're okay. I'm not gonna hurt you." He whispers, taking a hesitant step closer. By now, you know full well he wouldn't hurt you. Not in the way he's saying, at least.

"You should go." You choke over the words that feel heavy in your mouth.

"Y/N, love, I told you, I'm not going anywhere." He repeats calmly.

"I want to go home." You sob. "I shouldn't have won, I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't even be alive!" You say, voice picking up in frustration. "It's not fair. Nothing is fair, nothing."

He frowns as you lower your hands, clenching your fists at your sides. "Of course, you should be here."

"You don't get it!" You snap, and you hardly even sound like yourself.

This was it. This was your breaking point.

Coryo is taken back by your outburst, almost flinching at the abruptness of your shift. He had never seen you angry- he didn't even know it was possible. Of course it was. He'd spent all this time, all this energy trying to convince people that you were human. Anger comes with that, hand in hand like your cat and the fur that's clinging to his clothes at this very moment. You couldn't have one without the other. "Then explain it to me." He urges you, trying to sound anything other than defensive.

Your eyes soften, as if you're suddenly realizing that your anger was not entirely placed on him. You shake your head. "It's not... I cannot explain it and that is the worst part." You sigh, but the rage flashes in your eyes again as you look down. "Why was it me and not any of them? Why did so many of your classmates have to die? Why did Marcus escape only to face a worse fate than the rest of us, when he tried to help me too? Why am I enrolled at this stuffy university when my spot belongs to Arachne Crane in rights?"

"Arachne Crane?" Coryo mutters, eyes widening with confusion while he wonders where on earth that came from. He shakes his head quickly to dismiss the thought. "Marcus tried to save you, yes, that could have been you who escaped, that's true- but you were too busy trying to save me. And you did." He knows better than to accuse you of regretting that. He knows you don't.

When you don't reply, just staring at him head on now, frustrated and confused, he continues. "If we're going by this unexplainable logic of the universe, I think that it was you because instead of saving yourself, you saved me. And you did it again in the arena, when you went back for Jessup when I was looking at the screen and begging you silently to just ditch him. Same exact thing when you tried to get little Wovey up into the rafters with you, and hell! When you stared down the barrel of my gun, shaking head to toe from fear just to save the life of the Mayor's daughter, who was nothing but awful to everyone!" He says, gesticulating wildly to get his point across. "I've been trying to tell you for months, Y/N. It was you because you are the only person in this whole damn country who cares about someone other than themselves."

You just shake your head, and it's frustrating to him that you're unwilling to accept what he knows to be true. "It didn't work." You sniff. "You're the only one who survived me."

"Listen to me," Coryo says, reaching out and holding your face in his hands- throwing caution to the wind regarding how he knows to handle your panic attacks. "I survived because I had to learn how to love you."

You look into his eyes, flitting your own back and forth between them in an attempt to place any signs of deception. Blue, baby blue. You find none.

"And I did. And I'll love you every day for the rest of our lives. I don't want you to think for a minute that I'm embarrassed by that fact." Your eyes are squeezed shut by the time he finishes speaking, his thumbs swiping over the tear stains left down your cheeks by anger.

"It's not your fault." You mumble, shaking your head under his hold. "I do not fault you for being embarrassed."

"I'm not." He says again. "Look at me, please, love."

You pry your eyes open to face him.

"I've... I've had all this pressure my whole life to be perfect, and now it's worse than ever and I should have never let that get pushed onto you. I want you to be happy, that's all. I want you to be free to do whatever you want, and right now, the cost of that comes with who we are in public. Do you understand?"

"Yes." You say softly, but he can see that's not fully true.

"Here, in the Capitol, everything is a social ladder. We cannot marry who we wish, we marry who we should. Rarely ever do kids here date for fun."

"Like Lucy Gray and the silly mistakes she made over and over again with Billy Taupe." You comment, trying to lighten the tension you feel radiating off his body.

"Yes." He chuckles, smiling hopefully at you, relieved that you understood. "But I want nothing more on this earth than for you to be the one I spend my life with. I want to make you happy, but first, in order to do that, you have to be someone that they will accept. And I am so, so sorry I didn't explain this to you sooner, but I want you to know I've never wanted you to change."

"We don't need them to like me to be happy. That will be an endless uphill battle, Coryo." You shake your head slightly, placing your hands over his as they slide down onto your neck.

"It will be uphill but we can do it." He assures you quickly. "You're already well-liked, we're-"

"Were you not happy in Twelve?" You ask, a sad look in your eyes.

He stops, tilting his head slightly at you. He was happy in Twelve, now that he considers it. He hadn't thought about it, he was so focused on hating everything but you that he just assumed it was awful, but really, it wasn't. Not in hindsight."Is that what you want?"

You smile in response. No one had asked in months what you wanted. What you really wanted.

"What do you want, love? I'll pack up and move us back to Twelve tomorrow if that's what you really want." He says again, nothing short of desperation in his tone.

Faced with the option, you're really not sure. Yes, of course, you'd like to go home. It was very tempting. But Coryo was right, this education was important. You imagine for a moment the life you could have back home if you stuck it out a few more years. And maybe by then, you'll be better accepted here. Maybe by then, the Capitol will be a different place, and you'll be truly happy here. With him, and he will have the power to make the games go away.

"No, no." You shake your head. "I want to do something splendid...something heroic or wonderful that won't be forgotten after I'm dead. I don't know what, but I'm on the watch for it and mean to astonish you all someday." You say, and he can tell from your change in notation that the words are not your own. It was something new, unlike what he had heard from you before. He smiles. "I want to be with you, first and foremost."

"You'll always be with me. Where you go, I follow." He assures you. "I was happy in Twelve, if only because I had you."

"That should not be enough, though." You insist.

"It has been for you, hasn't it?" He asks, and you nod, biting your tongue.

He grins. "Then I promise, love, that would be more than enough for me."

"O-okay." You agree, suddenly flushed by his stare. Coryo smiles, looking briefly at your lips as you speak. To him, they seemed more tempting now than ever.

He starts to lean in and you move your head back quickly, a worried look crossing your face and you look around. "Coryo, we-"

"I don't care." He says quickly, gently pulling you back to him and pressing his lips to yours. Consequences are the last thing on his mind right now.

You take hold of the front of his delicately pressed shirt, pulling him closer with his hands on your neck. Here, in the middle of the university courtyard with the sun shining down on your back, everything is okay and at least for now, the cold night has given way to a warm, sunny morning.

taglist: @soulessjourney , @that-veela-girl , @dreamyysouls , @rockstarbfs , @maysileeewrites , @baybieruth , @kitscutie , @fratboyharrysgf0201 , @totallynotkaibiased , @stelleduarte , @secretsicanthideanymore , @bejeweledreverie , @drewsandsebastianswife , @niicole-87 , @queenofshinigamis , @innercreationflower , @nallasstuff , @iovemoonyy , @thatmarvelchick19 , @wearemadeofstardust0 , @regulusblackcore , @puredreamagination , @fantasticchaosthing , @becauseseaotters , @secretsicanthideanymore , @cascadingbliss

okay suddenly tumblr isn't letting me tag more people than this so i just made some cuts unfortunately :') i just left the max amount of people i could whose users i recognized and see in my notifs all the time :) if you're not on here and you should be i'm so sorry!

also this taglist is closed now!! if you’d like to get a notification when i update, turn on my post notifications!! i promise i won’t spam y'all :,)

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oh-no-another-idea · 2 months ago

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OC in fifteen

Tagged a very long time ago by the wonderfuls @blind-the-winds and @aziz-reads! Thank you! I think I'll do Sutton from Bent Nails because she's so fun :D

Rules: Share 15 or fewer lines of dialogue from an OC, ideally lines that capture the character/personality/vibe of the OC. Bonus points for just using the dialogue without other details about the scene, but you're free to include those as well!

“Tell that to the Feds.”

“No, I heard you,” she said, eyeballing him. “I’m just trying to decide if you’re serious or not. Or if you’re mentally sound.”

“If you were going to murder someone in this town, how would you do it? It’s a personality question, you understand. I’m just trying to get a sense. It’s hypothetical.”

“Thank you,” Sutton chirped and followed Michael out. “Do you think she thinks I’m your homeless ragamuffin orphan?”

“I have no money,” Sutton told him. “Not like, more than thirty bucks. And you can’t go to my mom for it because we’re here to see if she and Nick are compatible and should get married and live together forever and I can’t be a problem, not now, not when things are going so good. She’ll kill me, and then she’ll leave Nick and I’ll be the ruination of her happiness. Again, probably.”

“Yeesh, is this an interrogation or something? Where’s my lawyer?”

“I have never,” Sutton repeated. “Held a hammer before.”

“I’m right here,” Sutton said blankly. “And I need mom not to know what I did ever, so can you two put down your measuring tapes for one moment? It’s cool if your dicks are the same size.”

Sutton sighed. “Siblings,” she said, like she couldn’t imagine it.

“Ha,” Sutton said, getting up to get forks. “Say, why is my mom doing all the cooking anyways? You only love her for her womanly skills?”

“Michael doesn’t know any girls,” Sutton said, ruining Michael’s good opinion of her in one blow. “So how on earth could he have any of their phone numbers?”

“Relax,” Sutton said. “I’m trying to compliment your back muscles. Very impressive. Ten out of ten.”

“That’s what that means, you stupid goof.” Sutton ground out. But her irritation didn’t last. “Do you know, I tried to train myself to write with my left hand once?”

“You’d better come back, when you’ve had your fill of Jacob’s dirty laundry,” Sutton told him through the door. “Because I won’t let you leave me with another hole in my stomach, Michael Bradley. I won’t allow it at all.”

“Good,” Sutton said, and then added just to make her mad, “Can we clear about before the cops find us in here?”

Tags for anyone that sees this! Also @floralmusings @rjcopeseethemald @sleepy-night-child @winterandwords @sarandipitywrites

@sarahlizziewrites @theunboundwriter @lavender-laney @penspiration-writing and @cherrybombfangirlwrites <3

#tag games #oc in fifteen #bent nails or something #sutton byford

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mycadences · 6 months ago

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That side: "Lucien and Vassa will carry book 6, the final ACOTAR book! Vassien FTW! Vassien has so many shippers! It's a major ship!"

^ They're literally called a lesser known ship (I blocked out the accounts of the other two just in case any enraged Elriel tries to identify them... but if you search the Vassien tag you'll find the original posts). Vassien was competing against the other rare pairs (aka no real major ships like Feysand/Nessian/Gwynriel/Elucien and yes even Elriel (I'll admit Elriel is a major ship... BUT VASSIEN ISN'T)).

I know posts like this may seem like I'm mocking Vassien shippers, but I'm actually calling out the Elriels who disguise themselves as Vassien shippers and try to paint some strange narrative where Vassien and Elriels are the top two shipping fandoms like they are not lmao.

It is fine to ship rare pairs. In fact, it's great because it introduces more pairing diversity into the fandom! If you are a true Vassien shipper reading this then I hope you continue doing what you like! What is not fine is pretending to be fans of a rare pair and acting like you're making some 3000 IQ move when you're just clowning yourself.

I've always been of the opinion that it's insulting and beyond rude to act like you're a fan of a ship you're not for your own hidden motive.

Bonus:

Ah yes, the ship you love so much that you don't even know its name... Thanks for shipping Jurian and Vassa! (This was an angry Elriel post ranting about Gwynriel that I stumbled across. I'm not going to share the name of this poster since, again, I don't want anyone to identify them and hunt them down. But I just thought it was kinda funny lol, I've seen so many Vassien "shippers" (cough ELRIELS cough) misspell their own ship name.)

Anyway the whole point of this post is to show that if there are two full-length novels left AND each book will follow one main couple with alternating POVs, then the only way the math adds up is if the next two books are Gwynriel/Elucien in any order.

Because if it's Elriel, who will take the last and presumably most important final book??

I keep seeing them say either Vassien will take it (but they have almost no fans ;-; and at the end of the day I'm here for the romance, I'm not going to read a book about a couple I don't support...) or the final book will be about the three Archeron sisters but... SJM literally said it's going to follow one main couple??? Or are you telling me the Archeron sisters are endgame (yikes)...

#antivassien #antielriel #pro gwynriel #pro elucien

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thegrimreaperisanerd · 1 year ago

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hi :) binge read your de fic that you have posted on ao3 last night and really enjoyed all of it! excited to see any updates. was wondering if you have any rec for other fic youve read and enjoyed-- i am not god's bravest soldier and do not enjoy trudging through tags and was wondering if you had read anything yourself that you really enjoyed lolol

Hey, thanks so much!!! Sorry it's taken a couple days to answer this, I'm poor as shit and have two jobs now wah... capitilism...

I'm working on the next 46' chapter, It's about 70% complete and I generally let it sit for an evening once it's done then re-read it the next day to catch the vast majority of mistakes (I edit everything myself) so I'd say expect that in the coming days.

I have some thoughts! I... Have never been asked for fic recs before so I'm gonna list a bunch in no particular order that I enjoyed, and reasons why. I will note that I tend to enjoy meaty plot-based works over fluff, so that's what I'll be recommending. Anyway!

Paddling Out (THE REPEATER CORPSE CONUNDRUM) - @transhitman - So this is the first DE fic I read and it set the bar pretty fucking high. YOU'VE GOT: a very cool and insular setting (don't get me wrong I like fics where they travel around Revachol too, but there's something to be said for building a set and living in it for a while) YOU'VE GOT: extremely harrowing tension and pale-fuckery YOU'VE GOT: some genuinely beautiful, heartfelt moments (I don't want to spoil anything but "people don't need your permission to care about you" kinda undid me) YOU'VE ALSO GOT: Amazing art?! Always a bonus, I wish I could draw people lol

Have You Heard The News That You're Dead? - Wizardlover - Time Loop shenanigans hell yeah! Basic premise: Kim is *unable* to save Harry's life after he's shot at the tribunal, each time he dies he Reawakens in Martinaise on the first day and desperately has to try and find a way to either prevent the Tribunal entirely, or survive it. I think the major draw to this one is how well it's characterised and how well that lends to the major source of tension: trying to convince THE WORLD'S BIGGEST SKEPTIC that you *a man he 'has only just met'* is actually stuck in a time loop. Juicy shit.

The Case Of The Man Who Two-Thirds Wasn't There - @glisteningceruleaneyes - We got another case fic here, gang. This is one of those "they travel around Revachol" numbers I previously mentioned. A lot to love about this fic; the minor OCs are all loveable (or at least well-written, looking at you Mr. Bigot-All-Rounder), the elements of writing in the game's style (particularly use of Harry's 'to do' list that you find in the ledger, you don't see that as often!) are all fantastic. Also without spoiling too much I'm a sucker for hurt/ comfort :) I like when bad things happen to our specialist guy :) ALSO! alternating chapters, Kim vs Harry's perspectives contrast REALLY well! Just a super enjoyable read. - On that note I also wanna include a special mention: there's a podfic for this one and since I mentioned my two jobs, I've been listening to audiobooks at work (I'm a cleaner. It's very boring) and that was a fun change of pace!

The Emergent Causeway - hal_incandenza - Now you KNOW this one is good because it's the only *unfinished* fic I'm recommending. Again, We've got art! We've got a brand new (non-Revachol!) setting that still feels excellently Elysium! We got that excellent balance of humour and misery from the get go! EXCELLENT murder mystery so far, I am intrigued AND also there's a fucking puppy. Hell yeah. This one's from Kim's perspective and does a really good job of it, nothing like a man being begrudgingly sent on holiday and being somewhat relieved to have a corpse to deal with.

A Spilled Kaleidoscope - @spilledkaleidoscope - I'm actually recommending a series here. Real definition of "came for the art, stayed for the writing" I mostly have a soft spot because I got to watch a few "haha, what if-?" musing text posts become a series of written chapters and INCREDIBLE DRAWINGS HOLY SHIT. Like, you really just draw hands for fun, huh? This person made a pact with some sort of devil beasts to draw hands very good, at the bare minimum we can read their fiction.

Nothing To Lose But Our Chains - Lepak - I almost forgot this one and I honestly can't believe it because this is one of these ones that you need a cigarette afterwards. Good fucking god. This is probably the best fic I've ever read in terms of not shying away from the heavy themes that make Disco Elysium such a beautiful, moving game. It tackles a racism in many forms, particularly how people like Kim (in working for the RCM) and immigration laws do their part in upholding racist systems, despite the way it hurts him too. Of course, it's also excellently written with tense scenes and some real funny moments. A real good'un here.

The Catacomb Killer - SupposedToBeWriting - Give Harry more memory loss. Make him convinced he killed a kid. Make *Kim* convinced he killed a kid... Then the plot thickens. I won't lie I can't remember fuck all about this one because I was mostly drunk when I read it, but if it was good enough that I kept reading instead of smoking a spliff or something then it must have been excellent... I will re-read it when I have the time, lmao.

MURDER ON THE AIRWAVES - @randomisedmongoose - I'm just a really big fan of murder mysteries and gore. You show me somebody with brain matter pouring from their earholes and I'm like "yum yum, more of that please." I am a sucker for curious methods of murder and this one's good for that. Lots of trekking back and forth like in the game again. More ACAB - always good.

I did not mean to include this many...........................

Oh well. Here's my list, there are plenty of others I've enjoyed but these are just the ones that came to mind! Thanks again for reading my fic! Always makes me happy when people let me know they enjoy my writing :3

#hey if i tagged u in this and u don't want to be tagged then PLEASE lemme know and i'll remove u #likewise i dont know if everyone has tumblr so if u know somebody does ping this post their way and if they wanna be tagged let me know and #i'll do that #fic recs

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imagineitdearies-old · 2 years ago

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I adore your writing, you are amazing!

Do you have a list of you’re 10 favourite fics?

I can't believe how long it's taken me to get to these asks, I apologize. But thank you so much, and here, let me share my favorite 10 finished lucemond fanfics and my 10 fav unfinished ones to make up for it!

(I assume you were asking about lucemond? I also currently read a lot of hannigram and rhaenicent...)

The avid lucemonder has probably read all of these because each and every one is amazing, so I'm sure these lists are redundant. But my public wants to know, so I'll tell them! Lol. Definitely check the warnings and tags as some of this is dark content.

Anyways, in no particular order:

My Top 10 Finished Lucemond Fics

kings of our own making by meetingmadness

The Key to Your Heart by Avonne

a losing game by monkkeyslut

prize by litathesissy

I Lie With Him and He With Me by chibifier

Gifts of the Bloodline by Anonymous

not the boy i used to be (but i am close) by spn1dneedit

and now you're mine by basznow

Equivalent Exchange by lacecovered

watch you sweat by hypothesistest

My Top 10 Unfinished Lucemond Fics

life for life, eye for eye by justasussybitch (I would pay an arm and a leg for this one to continue)

in the middle of the night by lockandkey

on this shore we are all dead by sapph_of_the_seas (very consistently updating!)

paint me in your colors by moonlust

prisoners of war; me and you and our baggage by glaciya (I would pay the other arm and leg for this one to continue)

Luke Rivers AU (series) by Unusual_Raccoon

All the ways in which I'm terrible by Anonymous

Born to a Burning House by Anonymous

Black and Blue by jbean27

Dance of Flame and Tides by Rubien (do I have any limbs left? No? Take my eye!)

Bonus: shout out to lucemond doodles by anonymous, thank you for blessing us as long as you did with your inspiring art 😫✋

If you have/do read any of these fics and enjoy, make sure to give them some love!! Especially the unfinished ones 💙

#lucemond #lucemond fic #ask me shit

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tastescomics · 2 days ago

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First off, I love your art! It's such a big inspiration for me and makes me feel that I can accomplish my dream of starting my own comic. But I love how you draw backgrounds and little details in the foreground. Besides drawing food so well, I swear you're a wizard, little things like the books and documents in the most recent panel I couldn't help but look at. Adding little details that no one else will see/appreciate is something I love doing in my own works. I just wanted to say that not only are you an amazing artist, but I love the details you put into the backgrounds.

Also, are you ok with fan art? I have an OC or 2 that would love to come visit the district. Including one who would sell a limb to meet/work for Raz.

Other than that, I hope you have a great day.

;3; Thank you, that means a lot to me... I know 70% of people are just here for the kink aspect but I really love story-telling and if I get a chance to show more through the background or other little things hidden around, it means the world when others notice and let it influence their reading experience ♥

I wish you luck in your own creative endeavors! Comics are a lot of work but are so so fun~

As for fan art, go for it dude x) But tag me! Link me! Anyway so I can see it too ;3; (Ras would love it if they kept their limbs lol- but presents/gifts and having a goal/dream is instant bonus points in his book x) )

#tcanswers

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boysbeloving · 11 months ago

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BL People I Desire Carnally

tagged by the sweet @toxicrevolver and the lovely @i-got-the-feels

*cracks knuckles* aight we got a game that speaks to my cunt heart...y'all can tap out any time if it gets too carnal for y'all to read hhheeeeheee

(warning: i'm gonna start off STRONG and then it'll get mellow)

Kinn Anakinn Theerapanyakul from KinnPorsche the Series

just full naming him makes me THROB and the man looks like THIS...i want him to just pull his dick out of the zipper when he's wearing his ombre suit and fuck me silly <3 i want his nipple shadow to shelter me from the sweltering heat, i want to sleep with my face buried in his armpit and i want to smell his pubes after he's had a long day at mafia, i want to lick his happy trail and kiss his nose mole

okay i think the weak-hearted must have tapped out by now lol.....the rest of you, let's continue

2. Jeng from Step by Step

OKAY THIS MAN IS A MATTRESS AND A BLANKET AT THE SAME TIME COZ HE'S SO FUCKING BROAD....i'd love to be on him, i'd love him on me and one thing i do desire is to ride his thigh...i think that'd be fun (thigh riders please confirm)

3. Khun Yai from I Feel You Linger in the Air

OMFG THIS TOOK ME BY SURPRISE ISTG but also not so surprised...if you give me a soft, tender, understanding (and a bit oppressed but trying his hardest) man in (relative) power with an awesome bod AND AN EYEBROW SCAR then what do you expect from me...WHAT DO YOU EXPECT FROM ME.....you know when you're young you think you'd 'make love' and not just 'fuck' coz one of them is on a superior ground? ya....maybe it'll be making love with khun yai coz it just be like that sometimes??? anyway i would like to be in his lap while he's on his knees thrusting into me softly (and maybe not so softly) with his laboured breath lingering on my lips

4. Lian from Cutie Pie

eyebrows....he's one of the eyebrows people so yeah....gonna lick them :)) i want that tongue inside my mouth and other places...also, he's insatiable and i love that...keep it hard, boy! ngl i want the entire sex scene from the series for myself...thanks

5. Payu from Love in the Air

oh man this is one bad boy i wouldn't mind inside me...also that half ponytail earns him SO MANY BONUS SLUTTY POINTS....i'd fuck him just for that hairdo lol....BUT! he's also got the upperlip mole going for him and the cheek scar (it doesn't help that he's a dork irl and i simply adore him)

6. Togawa from Old-fashioned Cupcake

OH I COULD USE HIS THUMB AND OTHER BODY PARTS IN MY MOUTH....if he indulges me with an anti-aging routine where we go on dessert dates and spend peaceful time together then he's absolutely allowed to be a total freak in bed (which i know he is...he just is)

7. Kurosawa from Cherry Magic

he is so understanding and loves so deeply and quietly and is so sincere and i KNOW he would fuck with the same sincerity and intensity..i think it would those cuddles + fucks kinda thing? but yeah, he makes me feel warm

8. Sky from Love in the Air

OKAY THIS BOY I WANNA PEG BIG TIME..i want to feel him squirm under me as i hit his sweet spots, i wanna watch his face as i jerk him off and he's not allowed to touch himself, i want to her his gasps when he comes....i want this lovely bottom in my life i'd treat him so well istg

9. Ida from My Love Mix-up

again, i think it's the sincerity along with those sharp features that do it for me....he's open, straight-forward, willing and takes action.....he'd take sex very seriously imo lolololol....would have to tell him that it's okay to chill hehheehhe

10. Sean from Not Me the Series

there's something so raw and gritty about him...i would love to bite him a bit coz that's exactly what you're supposed to do to him...i think i'd like him doggy style and more than anything else i want him to fall asleep on my boob

this is not an exhaustive list lolololol but here are 10 boys at least hhehehhee

no pressure tags: @guzhu-furen @smittenskitten @aana210 @wildestflower9 @baby-droll and anyone else who wants to do this!

i formally tag @imminentinertia in this as well 💚💚💚💚💚💚

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ivormybeloved · 2 months ago

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I'd like to thank you all who have actually been interested in my AU since I work hard on it (also the people who just stumble across it and repost or at least like, I love y'all) but I'd especially like to thank two friends who helped me work on this. You know who you are and I am NOT tagging you both without permission. Anyway-

Quick announcement:

Ideas have been swirling

I'm afraid to say, everyone here has only scratched the surface of my AU. The concepts and story snippets get scrambled together.

But that all will end this week.

This week, I'm going to give you all story that I have thought of. I'm going to write more chapters of Our World's Delusion, and redesign every character that I feel like needs it (aka every character)

I'm remaking the character sheet template and getting rid of a few things. A few weeks ago or smth idk I posted a small announcement saying that I was going to rewrite story. Well now I am going through with that promise.

So here's important stuffs

Do I need to take a break? Ma— NO ABSOLUTELY NOT AGEHJRJXJSBWJ

In the middle of writing this I suddenly got really hungry and had a burst of energy but anyway

This isn't exactly overworking me, since I'm a procrastinator and work on projects slowly. Heck, I've been working on this AU for the whole summer. Probably the longest I've worked on an AU by myself or even with help (+ideas but anyway)

Character redesigns won't necessarily be CREEPY creepy, but it'll get around the theme I wanted to do.

Ships tho? I dunno. For now I won't add them and am taking requests, so if ya want I can draw whatever ship ya want with any current designs

But lastly before I'm done and you're happy you can finally move on if you have the curse of reading bc you don't know if it's a separate post or not (like me)

that's it. Thank you all. And I'd love your support on this au.

Bonus: I will be making thumbnails for each of the episodes so just watch out for those

Bye‼️‼️‼️

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firstsprinces · 10 months ago

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Thank you @anincompletelist for the tag this week! I can't wait for more of the dom!Henry/Alex you've got us begging for! I've been purposely saving the rest of bridesmaids so I can read it all in one go, and partially because I'm not ready to say goodbye to them yet!

We’re so close to this WIP finally being posted! This may be the last preview you'll get from this chapter. Below the cut, you'll also get a bonus share of this fic's title.

The radio announcer’s voice comes back in, breaking up in between his words as the signal Henry’s found seems to weaken, “if you are planning any kind of travel for this weekend, the Deputy Sheriff advises everyone to be cautious as the ‘Boxcar Bandit’ moves his way closer to our city. Policemen have begun to post these signs in businesses as well as passing around a sketch of what this twisted man may look like from an eyewitness who described him after spotting a suspicious-looking person rummaging through his pigs' feeding troughs late at night.” At the mention of the wanted poster, Henry twists around to reach into the pocket of his coat where he’d placed the paper the policeman had given him at the train station. He quickly unfolds it in excitement because he’ll finally have an idea about what the notorious outlaw may look like. When he opens the paper’s final fold, his eyes are met with the large bold letters spelling out ‘WANTED’ with a picture of a man wearing a black cowboy hat and a kerchief that covers everything but his eyes. Dark brows are furrowed on top of filled-in eyes, making him look deranged. Henry studies the way the man’s expression has been drawn because how could a witness describe the angry look in his eyes if he never approached him, especially if his face is covered and it had been dark outside? Henry wonders if this sketch will also be printed in the Western Observer, or if it already has been included in today’s edition. Surely, they must have because this is the biggest news story to hit the city since the railroad workers’ strike during the last war. Nobody’s going to bother with reading Henry’s column about the church’s fundraiser and bake sale when they can read the exhilarating update about the outlaw from the Southwest. He doesn’t blame anyone for wanting to skip his piece because it doesn’t compare to the increased fear about this criminal that could be heading their way. Henry doesn’t want to be a columnist anyway, but at the time it had been the only job available for the paper once he’d been granted entry into American territory. One day he hopes that he’ll be able to impress his boss enough so he can become a featured journalist and write and report on more newsworthy material that giving his short personal thoughts on things happening in the city or the surrounding farmlands. He doesn’t necessarily wish to be a reporter on politics and international affairs – partly because he has come to America from a different country and he will not tarnish his homeland just to please other people. He wants to travel and write about all the places he’s been, or maybe become an investigative journalist – just something with a sense of adventure.

Here’s the bonus share of the inspiration board with the fic’s title! I’m aiming for this week, or Monday at the latest to start!! If you'd like to be tagged when I publish his to AO3, let me know!

I know you've been tagged alreadt @priincebutt but you're also someone who always tags me and I also always appreciate when you do! This tag is always open and I will be checking in with everyone's posts shortly!

#firstprince #wip #wip wednesday #firstprince fic #rwrb #red white and royal blue #firstprince fanfic #firstprince au #current wip #wip update #outlaw alex #columnist henry #journalist henry

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romanarose · 1 year ago

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If You Wanna Be Wild: Bonus Sick Fic

Santiago Garcia x Javier Pena

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Summary: Part of If You Wanna Be Wild, Santi is sick and Javi comes over to take care of him, both realizing something is brewing.

Warnings and content: PTSD (flashbacks), internalized homophobia but like. Its mild. Flashbacks to that one scene in Glee with Blaine and Tina and the vapo rub lololol

A/N: I know it's been a min since the last chapter and I promise it's coming but I thought I'd giving a lil bonus chapter. Takes place before chapter 3.

A/N 2: for those who aren’t boomers like me, MASH is a show from the 70’s about med soldiers in Korea. It was a comedy but also dealt with super heavy themes and makes me cry

1.8 words

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

When Javier Peña waltzed into work at 8:23 AM, he was surprised to find Garcia was not at his desk. Santiago was always on time, and usually early, often staying late to make sure his paperwork was just right. Javi had once returned after realizing he forgot his wallet before the weekend only to drag Santi out of the DEA’s office practically pouting at nearly midnight.

So needless to say, Santiago being gone on a Monday morning was certainly enough to make Javier concerned enough to walk back up to the secretary. Maybe he had finally gone out and enjoyed his life a little on the weekend. The kid needed it, he needed to let off some steam, and a guy that looks like him certainly wouldn’t have any trouble finding a nice girl. Well. Javi hoped she was nice. Santiago would get eaten alive.

“Hola Colleen, ¿Has visto Garcia?” He asked, leaning over her desk.

She did not look up at him. “There’s at least 6 Garcia’s in this building.”

Javi cocked his head to the side. “Which Garcia do you think I’m talking about?” A rhetorical question. “He’s late.”

“What’s it to you? You're late every day, your little lap dog probably got stuck rescuing a kitten from a tree or something.”

He would waste time on something like that.

“Colleen”

She rolled her eyes. “He called in sick, Javi, now mind your business.”

“Sick?” How did he possibly get sick, the kid had the best immune system he knew. Didn’t drink, didn’t smoke, ate all his veggie’s off his plate like his mommy was still watching. “How sick.”

“I didn’t press for details. He never uses sick days so if he wants to play hooky for once it’s none of my business.”

“Thank you Colleen.” Javi smacked the desk, not hard at all. “This was very helpful.”

Javi waited until noon to call.

“Hola?”

“Garcia, where the hell are you?” He didn’t want to make it seem like he’d been asking about him, after all.

“Oh, hey Javi.” He sounded awful. “Lo siento, I thought they would have told you I was out sick.”

“Well, no one tells me shit around here, you know that.”

“Except for prostitutes.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Anyway, I’m going on break, want me to swing by and get you anything? Some food, medicine, blankies.”

“Oh, actually, there’s some paper work in my top drawer-”

“I’m not bringing you work, Pope! Jesus, were you the kid who had friends bring him his homework when he was home sick from school?”

Santiago coughed and his poor throat sounded so horse. “Well, if I had friends and if I took days off, I suppose I would’ve.”

“Jesus, Garcia.”

“I’m JOKING! But yeah it was my sister. Mamí would have my head if I fell behind.”

That kid was never going to be free of his mother. “Other than work, do you need anything?”

“No, I’m alright, thank you.”

“Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow? 8 O’clock?”

“I’ll see you when you walk in at 8:45”

“Shut the hell up.”

Javi was getting ready to leave work when he thought he might call Santi again to see if he needed anything on his way home. They didn’t live far, after all.

He called once, but the boy didn’t answer. He called again, no answer. When there wasn’t an answer a third time, Javier got concerned; he must be too sick to answer. Only stopping briefly at a corner store for some medicine, Javi rushed over to Santiago’s, banging on the door. “Garcia? Garcia!”

After a few minutes, Santi stumbled to open the door, looking groggy and messy and so unlike the boy he knew. Santiago shaved every morning, came to work crisp and put together. Right now, in a rumpled t shirt and shorts and a face that looked like he hadn’t shaved since Friday morning, Santi looked like an adorable disaster.

“What happened? Are you okay?” He asked, worry in his eyes.

What a guy. “Am I okay? Garcia I called you three times and you didn’t answer, you look like hell.”

“Oh.” Able to relax a bit, Santi’s shoulders slumped and he rubbed his eye as he coughed and looked at the bad in Javi’s hand. “What’s that?”

Javi glanced at the bag before returning his gaze back to the sick man. “I brought you some medicine. Thought you might need something.”

The smile Santi gave him made his heart leap. “Javi, I appreciate you worrying.”

“I wasn’t-”

“But I’ve had three of my tia’s stop by and baby me already.”

“Oh-”

Santi saw Javi’s slightly dejected look, and it made his heart swell just a bit to see that yeah, Javi was an asshole, but he was his asshole and Javi cared about him. Javi wanted to take care of him. “You know how to make soup?”

“I can try.”

“Good, because I’m starving.” Opening the door to let him in, Santi went back to his couch to watch M.A.S.H.

Javi set to work. “Jesus, Garcia, M.A.S.H? Didn’t you get enough of war?”

“They can’t show anything on TV worse than what I’ve actually seen.” He mumbled, cuddling up in a blanket again.

Javier often forgot that Santiago had a whole life before him, a whole life of seeing things Javi couldn’t protect him from. Occasionally, Santi would mention his friends from the Army, his special ops team he was a part of, but not much, and especially nothing with what happened or why he left. There was his best friend who was a pilot and a pair of brothers. The older brother had been honorably discharged recently with “post-vietnam syndrome” although they hadn’t really spent that much time in Vietnam, comparatively. Vietnam was just the thing that got people talking, finally. This only came up in concern for the young brother who without an older brother’s guidance was hard to reel in.

By the time the soup was done, Santi seemed asleep so Javi walked over to the couch quietly only to find Santi was awake, watching M.A.S.H with tears in his eyes. Javi looked to the TV and although he couldn’t pinpoint what was going on, the scene was somber. “Garcia?” He didn’t answer him. “Garcia, hey, Santi-” Javi touched his shoulder causing Santi to gasp out of his trance.

“Will?!” Santi jumped up, eyes wide with panic and hand going for his hip only to find no gun. No holder. No uniform…

“Hey, amigo, relaje, relaje… It’s okay.” He held up his hands to try and placate him. “It’s just me, you're safe, I’m not going to hurt you, Santi.”

When Santi realized it had happened again he quickly averted his eyes, subconsciously shifting away from his friend. “Fuck, sorry, I was… dreaming.”

Javi knew he wasn’t dreaming. He had been awake, clearly, but Javi didn’t question him. “Dreaming about how you got that scar on your neck?”

He knew him a little too well. That’s why Santi called out for Will, the voice he had heard before slipping into unconsciousness. Santi felt like he had been going crazy. It wasn’t as bad as it had been for Will; Santi could handle gunshots and cross fire and action. He could handle it well, he knew he was capable. It was other things, however, things like dead bodies or funerals that sent him into a haze. One funeral he went to when he looked in the casket he saw himself. He never told anyone and never went again. When he went to mass he prayed he would never have to go Frankie, Will, Benny, or Elena’s. He prayed he’d go first.

“No.” He took a few bites of soup, complimenting it.

Javi just nodded. “Alright.” Turning the TV to the Mary Tyler Moore show, Javi tried to change the subject to distract Santi. “Always thought she was hot.”

“Me too. Had a crush on her when she was on the Dick Van Dyke show.”

Javi chuckled. “Of course you did. Here.” He went and got the cough syrup and put it on a spoon. “Here.”

Like a child, Santi whined. “Asqueroso”

“Shut the hell up, I’m not Mary Poppins and I’m not giving you sugar to wash it down.”

“Fiiiiine.” Santi lifted is head enough that Javi could guid the spoon between his plush and waiting lips, eyes dropping in exhaustion and face flush with fever in a way that made Santi just look… fucked out.

No, fuck, shit, he’s not suppossed to be thinking those things about his partner, or men in general. Not that Javi had a problem with it, but he wasn’t gay. It was just his mind wandering, that’s all.

“Javi?” Santi mumbled half asleep.

“Hm?”

“There’s some vicks vapor rub on the counter, can you grab it for me?”

“Yeah, no problem.” When Javi returned with the rub, Santi was out cold. “Garcia?” He felt his forehead, he was burning up. Poor kid was probably exhausted. Sighing, he opened the vapor rub. With care and precision, Javi rubbed a bit on his neck and a little on his chest, only dipping slightly under the collar so as to not put his hand anywhere untoward. It wasn’t sexual, Santi just needed help. Digging through his medicine cabinet, Javi also found some peppermint and lavender oils and remembered what his own mother used to do when he was sick. A tiny bit of lavender under the nose and some peppermint on Santi’s temples, Javi hopped at the very least he could have a good sleep.

He deserved it, honestly. The young man worked hard, he cared about what he did and the people of Colombia. He was smart, capable, and kind, traits that Javi remembered liking so much in Steve. He was easy to like.

Settling into a chair nearby with some soup, Javier decided to stay for a little bit just in case Santi needed something or in case he got worse.

When Santi woke up a few hours later it had already gotten dark out and he had intended on moving to his bed. When he began to sit up, however, Santi saw Javier asleep on the chair. He must have stayed to keep an eye on him. Santi’s heart was full, overcome with emotion and affection for his partner in ways he can’t remember feeling since… well shit, Santi can’t remember feeling like this. He had friends he loved dearly, he loved his sister and his mother and all his extended family… but this felt… different. He couldn’t put his finger on it.

Standing up, Santi quietly used the bathroom and got another blanket from his room. Before laying down again, Santiago carefully laid the blanket over Javier, tucking him in.

“Buenas noches, amigo. Y gracias."

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

Hope this was enough to tide y'all over!

I was writing the vapo rub scene and it was gonna be a lil more intimate but then I got trauma flashbacks to Glee and ina singing and... I said hmmmmmmmm nope lol

@runa-falls @lunar-ghoulie @campingwiththecharmings @whatthefishh @itspdameronthings @persephone-girl @criticalarchitecture @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @beelzebeth87 @pimosworld @millerscoffee @heareball @thatwonderouswoman @poolbool @meveispunk @lovable-liar @millllenniawrites @read-and-wip @missdictatorme @the-fox-den @milkymoon2483 @k-ra @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @rosellacwrites @legendary-pink-dot @dreamingofbucky @axshadows @englandsgray @starsthatwatch @laiisleitte @fairlyang @alwaysmicado @theywhowriteandknowthings @casa-boiardi @lostfleur @ninebluehearts @puglover12 @sub-aro @laiisleitte @itspdameronthings @heareball @comfortlessjoy @csarab615 @calaveramangonda @bit-dodgy-innit @stevngrant @nanfafnan @kirsteng42

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