#but i hope some others will like / appreciate it.

[xxgoldie]

Congratulations for your 100 followers!

May I request for Lighter (zzz)? As for the alphabets, it's A, J, M, N, and Y!

I hope it's not too much, anywho, once again, congratulations! Hope you have a great day/night <3

thank u sm! ofc lighter nation pulls up first hehehe

main event page - event masterlist

A: Admiration - what's something they admire in a partner? Lighter really appreciates someone patient and caring. Partially this is because its something he really needs; while he's not massively secretive about his past, it takes him a while to truly open up about the details and the way it still affects him, plus he kind of forgets to take proper care of himself, since he's used to viewing himself as a means to other people's ends. But its also because so much of his life has been about violence, so he really admires a shift from that, and feels extra in love whenever he sees that gentle care in you, even if it's not directed to him.

J: Jealousy - do they get jealous easily? what are they like when they're jealous? Lighter is pretty secure in your relationship, so he's not gonna get jealous of your friends, and as long as no one's making you uncomfortable, he's not even particularly fussed if someone else asks you out, just keeping a protective eye on you while you reject them in case they take it badly and he has to step in. THAT BEING SAID, he does get possessive if someone tries to flirt with you, especially if they're subtle enough about it that you don't really notice. Directly shooting their shot is one thing, he can respect that, but those flirty little compliments and lingering touches are encroaching a bit too far on his territory. Suddenly he's glued to your side and his hand seems permanently attached to your waist, if the person doesn't know who he is (or doesn't seem to care), he'll drop it into conversation or take his jacket off so they see his scarred, muscled arms, making eye contact with a look that just screams "i dare you to try". Also, he may not get jealous of people, but he's lowkey the type to get jealous of like. pets and plushies. sees you cuddling your plushies or petting a cat and his thought process is just "aww cute. i wish that were me tbh. wait we're dating, that should be me." and he's well aware its a bit of a silly thought to have so he tries to play it off but the way he glares at whatever's taking up your affection is so obvious. He'll pretend he doesn't know what you're talking about if you tease him about it, so long as it works and he ends up in your arms with your hand threading through his hair.

M: Melt - what can you do to fluster them and make them melt? I've had this headcanon for a while that Lighter likes to tease you a lot so you don't get the chance to try to fluster him first, because it's honestly a little crazy how easy it is. Any sort of heartfelt compliment has him losing his words for moment, particularly if you tell him you feel safe around him. But if you want to see him properly flustered and embarrassed, you just have to be unapologetic and bold about your attraction to him. If he catches you staring, he will tease you about it, but just double down on it (e.g. "enjoying the view?" "oh, absolutely", or "take a picture, it'll last longer" "amazing idea actually" and genuinely pulling out your phone) and you have the upper hand in an instant, his ears go red and he tries to think of something smart to say back but he's short-circuiting a little. Poor guy absolutely cannot take what he dishes out.

N: Nicknames - what nicknames / petnames do they have for their S/O? what are their favourite nicknames for you to call them? He likes most variations of babe/baby, tho he uses baby most often. Also likes to use compliments as nicknames, lots of "hey gorgeous" and "pretty girl / pretty boy". When it comes to what you call him, he particularly likes if you call him "love" or some variation of it, like "my love" or "lover". Also, calling him "my champion" with a pout is like a fast-track ticket to him doing whatever you want.

Y: Yearning - how easily do they miss their s/o? what are they like when you're away? He's the kind of guy to always have his partner on his mind, little things just make him think of you. He's always taking photos of cute animals or pretty sunsets or other things he sees to send to you, and when he runs errands in the city he'll come back with lots of little trinkets and treats for you - he doesn't even actively look for them, it's just second instinct for him to think "oh they'd like this" and pick it up. However, I think it takes a bit longer than most for him to really miss you to the point it's a problem. Like, sure, he would always love to see you even more often, but he gets that sometimes life gets in the way and its quite often his gang duties that are keeping you apart, so it takes a little more for it to start genuinely affecting him. When it does, though, he's basically checking his phone for any messages from you - it's not just that he thinks of you in everything, he's actively looking for random reasons to text you. He'll be extra fierce in fights, trying to wrap everything up asap so he can get back to you. But if the gap really can't be shortened, he instinctively starts bringing you up in every conversation. Your name on his tongue helps fill the void a tiny bit, but it's lowkey just "ow, i hurt my hand!" "(Y/N) has hands..."

[tapeworrmart]

Some of my fav fan arts I did in 2024! 🦂💖

This year I took mental health leave from uni and therefore I spent a lot of time having nothing to do other than draw and put all my energy there. It was difficult not to let it consume me, and I think in future I want to put less pressure on myself. But I think my art has really come a way this year with focus on multiple character peices and more colour :). Hope to keep drawing things I love, and thank you to those who liked what I do this year, really appreciate you 💖

[pitchsidestories]

have yourself a merry little Christmas II Kim Little x Reader

romantic masterlist | platonic masterlist | word count: 1115

summary: Kim, the Arsenal team and reader are strolling through a Christmas market together. requested

author's note: dear readers, we hope you enjoy our oneshot, your feedback is always appreciated.❤️❤️

Visiting the London Christmas market with the Arsenal team became an annual festive tradition for your teammates and you. The delicious scent of cinnamon and chocolate was in the air as you made your way through the buzzing streets, the slightly wet cobblestones reflected the warm fairy lights surrounding you.

“Girls, where’s Kim and y/n?”, Leah stopped moving alarmed by her realization that you two were suddenly missing from the group.

“They were right behind us.”, Beth shrugged innocently. The striker’s remark only intensified the blonde defenders frowning lines on her forehead.

“Kyra, no!”, Alessia laughed, trying to prevent the young Australian to get anymore chocolate from one of the many stands, so she wouldn’t suffer from a sugar shock.

“What?”, the midfielder responded sounding completely guileless.

“You can’t have chocolate right now, we’ve lost our captain and her wife which means we need to find them.”, Leah shook her head impatiently.

“I’m sure they’ll be fine.”, Kyra waved it off unbothered by the dramatics of the vice-captain. With a huge smile on her lips, she added eyes gleaming joyfully: “But there’s hot chocolate over there.”

“It can’t be as good as Swiss chocolate.”, Lia grumbled.

“Amor.”, Mariona chuckled amused.

“Maybe try it before you slam it.”, Beth suggested winking.

“See, listen to her.”, the Spanish midfielder smirked at the older Swiss woman who still looked unconvinced at the chocolate laying in front of her.

“Oi, I think I saw them.”, Katie interrupted them excitedly, before the team could reach them though, Kim and you disappeared in the crowd again.

In front of a booth where one could win prices your wife came to a halt. Immediately, the Scottish woman’s light eyes spotted something she wanted to get for you. The unfolding scene felt like one of those cheesy Hollywood rom coms you loved while your lover hated them with a passion.

“Kim, you don’t have to do that.”, you crossed your arms in front of your chest

“Do what?”, Kim frowned.

“To win that stuffed animal for me.”, you finished your sentence with a smile on your face.

“Who said I wanted to win it for you.���, the midfielder countered teasingly.

“So, it’s for your niece and nephew?”, you asked her.

“I didn’t say that either.”, she reminded you grinning. After a few rounds of playing, Kim triumphantly handed the stuff animal to you, announcing proudly: “Here this is yours.”

“Thank you.”, you muttered too stunned to say something else.

“You’re welcome.”, your wife replied.

Nervously you put a loose string of hair behind your ear: “Kimmy, you don’t think we’re too old for plushies?”

“What? No.”

“It’s really cute.”, you admitted touched by her soft gesture. Most people in your life were getting married, buying houses and having babies, the latter one you failed at it, you two were trying again in the new year. But for now, you were grateful for what you did had an amazing wife and a wonderful team which were also your found family.

“Let’s go, maybe we’ll find the others again.” Kim cleared her throat.  

You nodded slowly: “Good idea. It’s a team bonding event after all.“

“Exactly. But do you want to get some mulled wine first? I know you like that.”, Kim suggested, pointing into the direction of a stand close by. The smell of spices and warm alcohol wafted over to you.

You smiled, admiring that she remembered: “I do.“

“I’ll get us some.“, Kim said and queued up before you could protest.

A few minutes later, she pressed a hot mug into your hand. You leaned forward until the steam touched your cheeks, inhaling the smell. “Thanks, you’re the best.“

“Because I bought you a drink?”, Kim chuckled before taking a sip from her mulled wine.

“No, for… everything.”

A crease formed between her eyebrows as she studied you sternly: “I’m not doing anything.“

“Not through my eyes.“, you said, carefully drinking from the hot beverage in front of you.

Your wifes face softened: “That’s sweet of you.“

You hid your face behind your mug while taking another sip: “It’s the truth.“

“That’s just the mulled wine.“

You giggled about how bad Kim was at accepting compliments: “I’ve not had that much of it yet! But you know it’s Christmas soon and you know what they say about Christmas. That you tell the truth.“

“I never heard of that before.“, the midfielder grinned.

“Sadly it’s not from me. It’s a quote from Love, actually.“

“Never seen that.“

You blinked at her in disbelief: “You didn’t? We need to change that as soon as we get home.“

“I don’t even like Christmas movies.“, she complained. That fact definitely wasn’t new to you. It was almost impossible to get her to watch anything Christmas related.

But before you could protest and explain to her that not all Christmas movies are predictable and cheesy, you found yourself right under a plastic mistletoe. Admittedly, that was even too cheesy for you.

“Oh.“, you said as you looked upwards.

Kims eyes followed your gaze to the mistletoe: “And that’s exactly why. They’re all so stupid and clichéd. Like the tradition that you have to kiss under a mistletoe…“

You silenced her with one raised eyebrow: “You didn’t hate tradition when you went down on one knee for me years ago.“

Kim simply rolled her eyes in response: “Oh please.“

“Yeah, right, forget it. Oh, look who’s over there.“

A group of blonde girls stood out from the crowd. You immediately recognised your teammates.

“Oh.“

“Let’s go back over to them.“, you suggested but when you were about to take a step forward, Kims hand snaked around your wrist, holding you back.

“It’s bad luck.“

She nodded upwards to the plant above your heads.

You bit back a smile: “I thought you detested Christmas traditions.“

“I do. But we can’t risk it, can we?”, the Arsenal captain grinned sheepishly.

“No, we can’t.”, you agreed mirroring her smile before her lips met for a short, but sweet kiss.

Both of you were quickly interrupted by Leah’s statement, her arms were crossed in front of the chest: “Underneath the mistletoe.”

“Ew.”, Kyra grimaced who got playfully elbowed into her side through Steph.

The older defender warned her smiling: “Shut it.”

Expectantly Alessia looked at Kim and you: “ Are you coming now? We want to go on the Ferris wheel?”

“Yes, we’re coming.”, you told her beaming.

“Don’t worry.”, your wife added in a light-tone.

Somewhere in the background, have yourself a merry little Christmas was playing, and little Christmas was about to be soon indeed. The air was already full of laughter, joy and the promises of a New Year.

[amphitriteswife]

Loyalty for royalty

Pairing: Emperor Geta x general reader

Summary: There had been an emergency meeting, made by you for Emperor Geta. He had lost his favor with the roman citizens and asked for advice.

Warnings: misogyny and sexism.

Note: i have too much concepts istg.

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Geta leaned back against the back of his sofa. His concubines touching his arms and chest lovingly and gently. Next to him was Emperor Caracalla with his own set of concubines, Geta seemed more desperate and serious to start the meeting while Caracalla just wanted some action and entertainment. The other generals and members of the counsel all sat opposite of them. There hadn’t been said a words. Not by the emperors nor the members yet it was clear who felt what about the meeting. Some of the counselors held their head high in hopes of new efficient information. Some others found it a waste of time but attended out of duty. The elites of the counsel especially found it a waste if time as the meeting wasn’t even called by the emperors but the a general, a woman who was a general. You. A position given to you by emperor Geta himself. Most of the members of the counsel were against it. After all what could you do? Serve them wine? The members of the counsel had made jokes about you at first, yet they all got shot down by you, countering them with either personal or proving their points to be hypocritical. Geta had found you…admirable to put it bluntly. You had a strong head on your shoulders and you weren’t afraid to speak your mind even if it was against the Emperor of Rome himself. At first he found you quite despicable and wanted to cut your tongue out. But in hesitation and after trusting Acacius’ words, he had given in and allowed you to be a general.

The sound of your name being called could be heard all across the building until your footsteps took over. Your stride was confident, there was bo hint of nervousness of hesitation. You seemed so sure, your eyes straight to it’s target, your eyes held a strong sense of determination that even Geta could see from where he sat. Your head held high, even now when some members of counsel murmured their Insults about you at each other, the whispers didn’t seen to get at you. As if they never had any chance of reaching you. You weren’t deaf, No, you just pretended you didn’t hear them. After all, seeing them try to insult you only to get no answer back is humiliating for them. Emperor Caracalla whispered to his brother who then cleared his throat and asked you to speak. Acknowledging his request you spoke in a quite flat but matter of factly tone:

‘The emperor made a mistake by killing off general Acacius.’

Both emperors were stunned by your words and even the members of the counsel were silent for a while. You hit a sore and fresh spot, it made Geta turn to his younger brother to see if he wouldn’t have an outburst for what had happened. He can’t risk more people knowing about his brother’s disease. Yet apart from making sure his brother was still keeping it together, Emperor Geta doesn’t appreciate you commenting on his actions so bluntly and openly, especially if its a ‘mistake’. How dare you even imply such a thing? He’s the emperor! And Acacius betrayed him? Did you expect him to sit back and let it happen? It’s not like he killed him with his own hands, he let him participate in the games. Geta narrowed his eyes at you and scowled a little. What’s the point of even bringing that up? It already happend, you’re here to give solutions. Not create more tension and bring up fresh wounds.

‘Because of this fact Emperor Geta has also fallen out of favor. We need to find common ground with the commoners. After all, the games and general Acacius kept them happy, we need to please them more.’

‘And what exactly do you suggest, general? The only thing you have said until now won’t help me nor the empire.’

‘Right, we should lower the taxes for commoners and put more taxes onto the higher class.’

The members counsel flickered their gazes between you and emperor Geta. They made their distaste known by scoffing at the information. Higher taxes for the elites? Hah! Like hell they’re going to accept it. Besides the taxes go to the empire. The counsel is full of elites from noble status, wealth or just high tanking positions in the military. None of them want to pay more taxes because why would they? No one wants to pay more than they have to, the commoners would be happy yes but the elites wont which can cause a great sense of trouble too. But…looking at it from the bright side; he will win favor with the commoners who are the majority and they will be satisfied and not protests. Hmm…Gets can’t help but contemplate your advice. It was a good plan yet ut does mean that the elites may risk betraying him. He already has experienced it and doesn’t want to risk more. But he can’t discuss that in front of them, it will make him seem as if he doesn’t trust them and he doesn’t need any more people turning against him.

‘I see. I suppose you may be right. Meeting is called off. We’ll discuss it later. You’re all dismissed.’

Geta watched the men and concubines leave the room. Only leaving you and Caracalla in the big spacious hall. His eyes lingering on the door for a little longer before he turned to you. He doesn’t want the elites to hear his discussion with you.

‘If we do higher the taxes, we might risk having the elites on my bad side instead of the peasants.’

Caracalla seemed bored and turned to his brother. He didn’t see the need to appeal to the peasants. They’re only there to fund his lifestyle! Why should they pay lower taxes?

‘Brother! I disagree! Wouldn’t that mean that we’re losing on the national taxes and make losses?’

‘Yes, but we will be in more favor brother. The people of Rome will love us again, but then we also higher the risk of getting betrayed by the elites or have them conspire against us.’

‘How do we fix that then?’

Both of the brothers turned to you for an answer. Yes your idea was great but it did lack some parts. It wad quite easy to fix but ofcourse, the real question is if they trust you enough for it. The recent betrayal of the general made the both of them wary of a lot of the people close to him which might make them question you too. At least Caracalla did, Geta seemed to at least try to trust you since he wad the one who made you a general. He wouldn’t have made you one if you weren’t trustable

‘Well i simply won’t let them. You have nothing to worry about Emperor. If something like that happens i will have your back and take care for it. You won’t need to lift a finger.’

Geta seemed quite pleased with your answer and extended his hand. All of his fingers had thick, golden rings on them. It did make you wonder if he ever found them heavy enough to not wear them. You accepted his hand and places a kiss on the back of his hand. A soft chuckle escaping Geta’s lips. You were a woman with the ambition of a man in this time, yet a woman’s body. You’re smart and he can’t deny your talent. The feeling of your soft lips on the back of his hand made him smirk a little. It’s different. Usually he feels thin, masculine and rough lips against his hand….but now it’s the pair of your own…it makes him wonder what if would feel like on his own lips…wait…what is he thinking? He can’t think of you like that. You’re his general…but he can’t deny that the fact you have the position of a man, yet you are a woman makes you insanely attractive.

Caracalla found himself sulking, even though the kiss was just a sign of respect for the emperor…still! His brother just got kissed on the hand by a woman! What a womanizer? He feels jealous. His brother always gets everything he wants. Even the pretty and cool women! It’s so unfair! Geta, who senses his brother’s dismay and jealousy waves a hand dismissively in his face.

‘Get your mind out the gutter. It’s hustle as normal as it would be with a man. Don’t let it get to you Caracalla.’

Caracalla scoffed at his brother and sat back on the sofa while Geta remained standing, his eyes focused on you. He still can’t get over the fact you told him that you won’t allow anyone to betray him. He likes those words. He has your loyalty…hmph, that doesn’t sound so bad. Are you perhaps buttering him up to get into his pants? He took a glance at you, you were just snacking on the grapes on the table. Not even paying attention to the emperors in front of you. Perhaps you’re not trying to get into his pants but you’re just a loyal person. hmm…perhaps he can make you his personal guard? Would you like that? He certainly would. Perhaps he’ll keep you close to himself, he could just tell you that he feels threatened…and you’d be by his side all the time. It sounds very veryyy nice. But that does require lying and false claims. But he’s no saint…as an emperor he can be just a tad bit selfish don’t you think? His hand reached it way to your cheek which was full of grapes. You looked at him confused, but he looked you deep in the eyes. Yours being focused on the dark circle eye make up.’

‘You. Would you like an higher position my lady general?’

‘Uhm-’

[itsgivingmami]

Hi there! I have a request for established Rhea x Reader. Backstage at a WWE event, reader finally tells someone off which Rhea thinks is HOT. Rhea says “ ‘atta girl” all low and growly which READER thinks is hot and then they fuck in a closet or something 😇

No pressure if this doesn’t resonate with you. Thank you!

I loveeeee this���� Thank YOU for the request💛

Gay… and Taken- Rhea Ripley

Likes, comments and reposts always appreciated!

You were seething, white hot rage flowing through your body in waves. Your chest felt like it was stuck in a vice grip and everytime he continued speaking it would tighten.

The first time, you had thought nothing of it. He was friendly when you were introduced and you had shadowed him briefly when you were still learning backstage. He was polite and kind, as were you. When he asked if you wanted to grab drinks you’d figured it would be with some of the other crew members and politely declined.

The second time, you’d realized exactly what his intentions were. Nothing bad or malicious but you had figured out that him wanting to spend time with you had nothing to do with work, or included other people. So when he invited you out for dinner you had gently but truthfully told him you already had dinner plans.

The third time, you feared for his safety. In the first couple weeks of your relationship your girlfriend had become particularly possessive. So when you and Rhea walked into the building together happily chatting only to be interrupted by far too many questions about your weekend you could feel irritation falling off your her. When he asks you to lunch during your breaks you let him know that they’re not scheduled at the same time before quickly walking further into the building with Rhea on your heels. She finds a dark corner to remind you exactly who you belong too, as if you’d forget, and goes on with her day.

The fourth time you’re on your way to Rhea’s truck when your name is called from behind you. You stop and turn thinking maybe you forgot something but the look on his face says otherwise. He offers you a ride to which you simply say no thank you before leaving, hoping you’re assertive enough that he takes the hint. When you climb into the passenger Rhea is already watching you, a confident smirk on her face. She’s been encouraging you to tell him to fuck off, thankfully her jealousy had been quelled. “I know,” you sigh as she chuckles,

The fifth time, you decide, is the last. It’s a split second decision as he’s standing beside you rambling about this club he’s been wanting to go to. You’re slowly getting angrier, had four declines not been sufficient? All you want to do is semi discreetly stare at Rheas ass from across the room and his voice is really harshing your mood. “Apparently it’s pretty exclusive but I think you and I-“

“Dude!” You finally snap your arms uncrossing and coming up to press against your temples. He’s gone quiet, seemingly bewildered by your outburst. “I’m gay,” you explain shortly and you clench your fist as he looks you up and down,

“You sure?” He asks and you laugh, actually laugh in disbelief.

“Pretty sure I’m gay,” you tell him, you can feel eyes from the room on you but you hardly care, “and taken,” you add

“You could’ve said that,” he tries to back track and you scoff, running your hands over your face.

“I shouldn’t have to!” You challenge, “you should’ve listened when I said no the first time, no just because I’m unavailable,” he walks away from you silently and you feel the room go back to its normal chatter. As you’re debating if that was the right thing to do you feel someone walk behind you.

“Atta girl,” comes a husky voice in your ear accompanied by a growl before your girlfriends walking towards the door in front of you, you core aches at the tone and your feet move on their own to follow her. Speed walking you search for any sign of Rhea which shouldn’t be difficult with the tattoos and towering over most women. Damn her long legs, you’re internally groaning when you’re pulled harshly backwards. Everything’s dark around you as you hear a click, then your body gets pushed against the door stuck between it and a body you know all too well.

“Rhea,” you chide but her lips on your neck cuts you off, the sensation causing a warmth in your stomach to bloom,

“Fuck I’ve been waiting so long for that,” she murmurs and her inked hands find their way under your shirt and move upwards to cup the swell of your breasts, your back arches off the door into her touch and she chuckles,

“I wasn’t too much of a bitch right?” You ask and you feel the attack on your neck cease, she stares right at you as one of her hands retracts from your shirt to cup the side of your jaw.

“Baby girl listen,” her tone is serious and you nod as much as you’re able with her grip on your face. “That was one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen I mean-“ Rhea swallows thinking about it realising that she can’t explain it in words and goes back to your lips kissing them roughly.

“Rhea,” you moan in need as she’s pulling up your shirt to trail kisses against your sternum, lowering onto the floor.

“Yes?” She asks innocently and you open your eyes to glare down at her, “ah ah you take that attitude back to him,” she warns and you gently thread your hand in her coal locks, a nonverbal apology. In response she undoes the button to your jeans, pulling them and the black lace beneath them down and tossing them aside. The kisses to your thighs are feather soft and you moan,

“Rhea please,” you ask her and she feels your grip on her hair tighten slightly. So sensitive. She grins against your leg as she runs her nails down your skin eliciting another sound from your lips,

“So needy,” she degrades but it hardly sounds negative when she’s whispering it to you like a vow. Her hand runs down the length of your leg before her grips wraps around your ankle, she lifts it gently and throws your leg over her shoulder happily finding herself face to face with your glistening center. “You’re soaked,”

“You growled,” you respond and a light slap hits your thigh in warning, “sorry mami,” she smiles hearing her favourite apology before diving forward to lick the length of your cunt. You moan above her before your hand comes up to cover your mouth, all to aware of the closet she’s dragged you into.

“Let them hear you pretty girl,” she tells you and you shake your head, bad move. Determined to hear you again she inserts a finger into you and your head hits the door with a thunk. Rheas chuckle is soft as she watches you start to come apart. “He wouldn’t bother you if heard you scream for me,” she teases you as she adds another finger. Her mouth moves to work on the bundle of nerves that are already throbbing and you feel like your legs might give out when you feel her mouth.

She’s watching you through her eye lashes and she wonders why you two hadn’t done this sooner. The way you look sprawled against the door makes her want to photograph it for when she’s travelling without you. It’s not the first time she’s devoured you like this, more often than not you could find her kneeling on the shower floor while you writhe against the shower tiles. The sound of people moving outside the door spurs her forward as you continue to whimper against your own hand.

“Be good and come for me pretty thing,” she commands and her words send you hurling into an orgasm. She fucks you through it, enjoying the way your face changes while you ride the high. She stands quickly and as soon as you come down your body crashes into her own. “So good darlin’,”

She helps you redress and you part with the promise that you’ll reciprocate at home, not that Rhea cares whether you do or not but if it makes you happy to please her so won’t say no. She heads back before you, allowing you an extra second for your legs to stop shaking and your fuzziness to clear. When you come back in the man who you’d told off is standing by catering talking to some woman you’re debating on saving from him. When you catch him staring you down your gaze hardens ready to defend yourself before you see him gulp and turn away. You guess he took what you said seriously.

Rhea smiles when you look at her proudly and you’re so cute she swallows the sentence she was about to say. It’s incriminating evidence but she feels her own sense of pride watching you stand there with her lipstick print on your neck beside a decently purple hickey. She should tell you, you’ll probably be upset with her later, the thought causes a smirk to cross her lips. That didn’t sound so bad.

[theemporium]

watching xmas movies with jack

a lil dad!jack for you!! thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

“Okay, bud, we have some tough decisions to make. You ready?” 

The young boy in front of him nodded, a small crease forming between his brows like he was preparing himself for a faceoff. 

“Grinch or Home Alone?” 

James looked up at his father, contemplating his options for a few moments before letting out a deep breath. “Home Alone.”

“Great choice,” Jack grinned, his chest tightening when his son returned the same smile back before he turned back towards the TV to put the movie on.

If you had asked Jack when he first joined the league—or even a few years ago—he would have insisted that whilst he enjoyed the little break for Christmas, he missed hockey more. December was usually around the time everyone started getting into the flow, the team was starting to connect more so than not and you would get a good idea at which teams would be making it to the playoff run and which teams wouldn’t stand a chance. 

He would be buzzing in his skin, ready to keep playing some good hockey. It was all Jack had ever really known, from being a hockey nerd as a kid to playing in the league himself.

Things changed when James was born. 

There was more to the holiday break. Jack began to appreciate the days he was able to spend with his son, the days he didn’t have to worry about games or road trips or anything else. Just days where it’s him and his family and nothing else. 

It was barely ten in the morning by the time the blanket fort had been made in the living room, neither Jack nor James out of their pyjamas as they settled on the first movie of the day. 

“Wait, we can’t!” James insisted, tugging on his pyjama trousers when his father moved to press play. “We need to wait for Mama.”

“She’s coming,” Jack reassured his son, smiling down at the way he had pressed his face against Jack’s thigh. He ran his fingers through his son’s hair, softly tugging on the small knots in his curls. “She’s getting some snacks for us.”

Big eyes stared up at him, all hopeful and sweet. “Pretzels?” 

“Chocolate pretzels,” Jack replied, grinning at the way his son’s face lit up.

“So, which movie did we choose?”

Both boys turned to look at you as you walked in—also still dressed in your pyjamas—holding two large bowls.

“Home Alone,” they both replied at once.

You let out a small laugh. “I should have known.”

“I saved you a seat, Mama!” James called out, patting the spot next to him in the fort.

“Thank you, Jamie,” you grinned.

Jack mockingly pouted. “What about me?” 

“You sit here,” James replied, patting the other spot beside him before he gave his parents a bashful smile. “I wanna be in the middle.”

“Of course, bud,” Jack nodded, crawling into the blanket fort as he happily took his spot, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of his son’s head. “Ready? We have a lot of movies to get through.” 

James nodded, all sweet and determined again. “We can do it.”

“Of course we can,” Jack grinned. “We are Hugheses, we can do anything.”

.

[endearng]

Firsts

Pairing: Spencer Reid x reader

Summary: You and Spencer navigate through your firsts throughout your life as childhood friends.

WC: 6k

Warnings: death, grief, use of drugs to cope with grief, uhhhh i guess that's it

A/N: HELLO!!! It's been so so long and I'm sorry I took forever to update — uni's kicking my ass but now I'll try to write a bit more during holidays season. I hope you guys enjoy this one <3

| masterlist

"Do you think we'll stay friends?"

"I'm sure we'll stay friends."

For a genius, your best friend, Spencer Reid, never seemed to notice some of his speech patterns — he would echo you sometimes, which you honestly found adorably funny, and he also had a tendency for rambling, even if it wasn't that appropriate at times. When you two were alone, you didn't mind; in fact, you encouraged him and let him talk to you all the way. When there was someone else, like either of your parents or a teacher (these were your regular companions), you would try to tap him on the arm subtly so he would know when to stop. Although it broke your heart, he said himself once that he appreciated when you helped him look more normal.

Right now, things are everything but normal. Spencer had graduated high school at the age of 12 while you were still in seventh grade and he was leaving to study at Caltech. You didn't dare to compare yourself to him, but you would definitely miss him around, since he was the first person you saw everyday (besides your parents, of course) and the one who walked you to school and then went on the way to his. Right now, you are sitting on the floor of your front porch, while Spencer is laying his head on your lap and you have your hands on his hair. You always said to him that he's got nice hair, no matter how he styled or decided to cut it. He blushed every single time.

"You know… I'm gonna miss you, Spencer."

"I'm gonna miss you. But you'll still be in my life."

"Will I?"

"I'm leaving, but I'll try my best to keep in touch. We can call each other. I'll spare a couple hours of my week so you can talk to me." A small grin stretched on his lips when he mentioned talking to you. A crease made its way between your brows when you thought you'd only talk to him weekly.

Trying to play it cool, you asked, just to be sure, just to check if the pang in your heart felt less intense, less hurtful. "Will you?"

"Yes, I will."

Despite having him in your lap, you couldn't see his eyes, for they were closed in delight from your gentle touch. You saw him smile softly and you could see just how relaxed he seemed with this big change — honestly, if you were him, you'd be terrified. Quickly trying to get rid of your sad and fearful thoughts, as you ran your hands through his hair, you poorly fought the urge to chuckle when you thought about braiding his hair. He felt the air that left your lungs hit his face when you did.

Curious, as he always had been, he inquired, "What is it?"

"You'd look good with braids."

"I'm not letting you braid my hair," even if his tone was one of mock offense, a chuckle made its way out of him.

"I didn't ask to."

You saw as he bit back a grin. Little did you know, but he's is heaven, here in your presence. In dire need of some place safe to just be, without the expectations and the big things that are expected from him and to happen to him. As you unknowingly soothed his thoughts with your gentle touch, he thought about how strange it is having someone touch him and not being utterly opposed to the idea. He also thought about how, for one time in his life, he didn't know something, which was the feeling spreading on his chest. Nevertheless, there was a ghost of a small, shy smile on his face as his shoulders relaxed.

He was happy.

—

As you made your way home from your sixteenth birthday dinner, something felt odd. Looking out the window, the city lights seemed to run from how fast your dad is driving. In the backseat, all alone, you tried to figure out what made you feel so empty all night long. As the car went over a bump, you instinctively looked to the side, and then everything made sense. Spencer wasn't there. Usually, after whatever family celebration you'd go to, he would be there (because you'd insist on taking him with you), by your side in the backseat of your dad's car, laughing at whatever funny thing had happened during the event. He was your company to every single thing you did, and you had been missing him quite more often as the contact between you two became more and more scarce.

Turning to look out the window again, your mom saw the frown on your face and sighed quietly, knowing precisely why you weren't chatting like you normally did. The specific pair of ears that you wanted to be listened by were not here. And she didn't blame you one bit.

As you got home, your frown was quickly replaced by a hopeful feeling on your chest and in your features when you found a voicemail addressed to you.

Hey! I hope you get home before midnight so that you won't think, not even for a minute, that I have forgotten about you. I'm so sorry I couldn't make it! I'm really stressed right now because there are too many things happening at the same time and I'm here all by myself, so... I guess you know, better than myself, how I feel. You… You know me so well. It is nice to be known by you. Anyway... Um... I'd like to wish you a happy birthday and, ah, I also would like you to know that I wish I could have been with you today. I'm really sorry because I know how much you love your birthdays. I'm sending you a gift, but I'm not sure if it will arrive on time. I miss you. I miss you and whatever Taylor Swift song you were always humming when we were walking back from school.

Anyway, er... I miss you—hah—I don't think I'll ever be able to tell you how much I miss you. And how much I miss our time together. Uh, happy birthday!

You didn't know when, but you had teared up at some point listening to him. You didn't know whether the cause was hearing his voice again or because he remembered you or because he told you he missed your time together or that he remembered the silly songs you'd sing when you were walking back home together. Before going to bed, you let your bedside table lamp on, as you always did before so Spencer knew, from the house beside yours, that you were up or you didn't care if he called you in the middle of the night. Either way...

You were happy.

—

Underneath the Christmas tree, the glow of the warm white fairy lights you and your mom had picked out was almost blinding. Yet, you and Spencer couldn't care less. You were both too infatuated by the blinding brightness that punished your eyes to care about having problems later. Closing your eyes, you smiled to yourself, happy to be doing something so ordinary, so dumb, with your best friend. Behind your eyelids, the light was not as relentless and it granted some relief from the current sight, which sort of looked like a kaleidoscope of... white. You heard when Spencer turned his head to look at you, but you missed his soft grin.

"It was overwhelming me," you explained.

"I know." He replied, still looking at you.

Your profile, under the yellowish glow, looked almost ethereal. The slope of your nose, the curve of your lips, everything was forever ingrained into his memory. By now, Spencer could map out every single freckle on your face — especially the particular one on your lower lip. He sighed at the sheer thought of your lips. You were now seventeen and so was Spencer. Puberty had been way gentler on you than it was on him and he noticed with a blush that you were growing up, just as he was. You were a little taller, for sure, and you had put on some weight in all the right places, not to mention your style that matched your personality. As for him, he had that voice pitch swing that he hated greatly, still wore thick glasses and overall went with the nerdy stereotype that everyone picked on him for… while you looked like you were glowing.

You opened your eyes and turned to look at him. You were so close that it almost hurt. Inches separated Spencer from what he thought would be the best feeling of his life. From the person that had him lying awake for hours, tossing and turning on his bed until the sun began to rise. "I can't wait to give you your gift. I think you'll love it!"

He grinned. "I'll be happy with anything." From you, he meant to say, but he didn't finish.

You closed your eyes again, a grin of your own on your face. He wondered... What if he got closer? What if he kissed you? What if you pulled away? What if you didn't pull away? What if you cut him off?

Almost unconsciously, he inched closer and closer to the point your breaths mingled together. You didn't pull away, not even for a second. Instead, you leaned in, getting ever closer to him than you ever had been before. The fairy lights made you look even prettier than before. You looked like a dream.

"I was thinking..."

"About what?" He asked. Despite his gaze being lost in you, he was acutely aware of the words coming out of your mouth.

God, your mouth.

"It's stupid..." You muttered, looking away from his eyes.

"You know you can talk to me." It's not stupid if it's you.

"Okay... okay." You breathed in. "Me and the girls were talking about first kisses. And I felt so, so embarrassed because I haven't had mine yet."

Spencer felt dizzy. Even if he wasn't the best at social cues, if he was reading this right, you wanted him to kiss you too. He exhaled softly, trying to clear his thoughts. His voice was weak when he asked, "And?"

"Have you had yours yet? I know we talk about everything and all that, but... have you?"

He chuckled at your question. How could he, the scrawny little nerdy boy have had his kiss and you hadn't? "You're joking right?"

"I'm not! I'm genuinely curious."

He didn't know, but your heart was in your throat, too scared of a positive answer.

"I haven't had my first kiss yet."

Somehow, that did nothing to calm your racing heart. Inching even closer, you muttered, "we could have it together."

If Spencer didn't pass out with your words, he was sure he would be unshakable for the rest of his life. Whatever life threw at him, it wouldn't matter as much as this moment of sheer strength and self-control, because he didn't pull you in immediately. "Are you sure?"

"I'd be fine with kissing you. You're my best friend. I—I know you won't judge me and you know I won't judge you either. And—and... even if things are... embarrassing... i—it will still be a good memory in the… future." As your soft voice reached his ears, he felt like he was in heaven.

Your arguments for kissing him made him think if you had spent that much time considering it as he did. "Okay, you've got a few points. I'm—I'm not... opposed to the idea."

Your heart burned. You both inched closer and closer, a hair width separating your lips. As your eyes fluttered closed and you placed one of your hands on the back of his neck, both hesitantly and surely, Spencer mimicked you and pressed his lips to yours with the lightest pressure as his hand found your waist tentatively. Your lips felt so soft and sweet. He knew he would feel you for days — and hoped you'd feel him for days, too.

Encouraged by him, you pressed your lips a bit harder against him. He gasped softly and you took the opportunity to capture his lower lip between yours and kiss it gently. Spencer could feel his heartbeat drumming on his ears and he tightened his hold on your waist the tiniest bit. Internally, he thought he died and went to heaven and that's how he was welcomed there. Your lips fit together so nicely and he felt his heart burning for you and he knew back then that he would do anything you asked him to in a heartbeat.

You pulled back to lick your lips and fitted them into his again. He sighed, again, moving to your accord as he tried focusing on how good it felt to be kissed by you rather than how you could regret it later. Distancing yourself, your eyes slowly fluttered open, finding his dazed ones already looking back at you. You grinned at him. Another secret between the two of you; but this time, it wasn't an embarrassing one.

He smiled back.

Later that day, Spencer sat on his bed, touching his lips, feeling the tingle yours had left behind. Smiling like an idiot, he wrote that date on the wood of his nightstand, black marker holding the evidence that tonight had actually happened, if he were to ever forget. If anyone asked, well, he would have to come up with something to hide the fact that he was relentlessly in love with you, but he would replay the best memory of his life in the back of his mind as his mouth stuttered out a little white lie.

He was so confused. And screwed. And so utterly happy.

—

At Caltech, at the ripe age of eighteen, on a working day, as usual, Spencer typed aggressively on his keyboard, writing an academic paper on a topic that had come to his mind during one of his classes and later inspired fully by a conversation with this one professor. Looking at the time on his computer screen, he cursed. It was already time he was supposed to be on his way to class, which was unlike him. There was a reason, though.

Last night, he had gotten home late. He had lost track of time talking to a girl whose name was Alex. They were both at the university library, and they hit it off immediately talking about Literature and then more mundane things — he had found out that she was a high schooler having classes with grad students, just like himself a few years back. Getting home late, his entire schedule for the day ahead had been ruined, so everything felt odd as he tried to navigate through his last obligations. He had gone to bed later than usual and overslept for some reason unknown to him.

As he got up abruptly, he knocked his knee on the desk, which was now getting very small for the size he had grown into. Shutting his eyes and suppressing a whine, he breathed in. As he opened his eyes, his line of sight caught glance of one of the two only photos he had hung up on his wall. The first was him and his mother, Diana. The second was you and him.

It was short after your fifteenth birthday, and he finally had had the time to go visit. You had greeted him with a very warm hug. That very same day, you had dragged him to your bedroom, which now didn't have the pink walls and the posters of the bands you liked so much anymore. Now, the walls were a cool tone of sage green and your walls were cleaner, the posters being replaced by photos of you and your friends from school. He had felt a tinge of jealousy, noticing just how much he was missing out on your life. Despite the lingering feeling, he tried to not let it get to him.

You thanked him so much for the gift he had given you, one of those polaroid cameras. He had spent so much time saving money to get you that present. The excited, happy tone in your voice during the phone call you had made to thank him made him feel like it had been worth it to spend that much.

"Hey, here she is! I named her Marie. From Marie Curie, of course." You explained, holding your camera carefully as you both entered your bedroom

"You named 'her' Marie?"

"She has a special place on my heart."

He chuckled. "You're so material, sometimes."

"You gave it to me!"

"I gave it to you." He whispered, a hint of a smile dancing around his features.

You smiled. "Come on, let's take a picture. It's her first. I waited a whole month so you'd be here to take this photo with me. It's only fair you're the first person to be photographed with me by Marie."

"Oh... okay..."

Holding the camera with both of your hands, you held it out so that it would capture the two of you. "Smile." You said, and, without checking his pose, you pressed the button, a big grin on your face, for the photo, of course, but also from being so madly happy that you were with him again. Spencer didn't know what do to, frozen on the spot because you were so, so close. He just looked at you, dumbstruck gaze on him as he watched you smile so beautifully at the camera.

His heart was doing somersaults.

After the flash in your face, you blinked rapidly, chuckling to yourself. "Oooh. That's uncomfortable, heh." You open your eyes and the first thing you see are his beautiful hazel ones, looking straight at you, as if he didn't even blink upon the bothering aftermath of the light on your faces. You nearly had to gulp under the intensity of his gaze. Then, you quickly regained consciousness and started fanning the small piece so that the picture would appear faster.

The result was the one now stuck to his wall: you, with the biggest smile on your face and he, lovestruck, dumb, lost gaze as he looked at you.

Sigh.

Spencer quickly shook his head, not meaning to be later and even more stressed than he already was. He missed you, though. And he let himself relish in that feeling of longing for a minute. Glancing at the photo, he couldn't help but think you were already eighteen. And that he had loved you from the first time he saw you — when he was twelve.

He sat on his bed, having removed the photo from the wall. As he held it delicately between his fingers, he thought of you. He always did. In spite of being late, in spite of everything telling him he had to go through his days, he felt something tugging at his heartstrings, a longing feeling that he should be somewhere else, something that told him something, so he knew.

It was time to go.

—

Back in his hometown, even the air felt different, despite exuding an aroma that reminded him of his younger days. It had been some time since he had visited, and the distance between you and him only grew further. Driving past your house — the state of California had finally issued his license —, he saw a somewhat big crowd of people, all dressed in black.

He felt like the noise around him didn't fully reach his brain. Like he was under water.

Robotically stepping out of his car, he approached the house cautiously. Almost as instantly as your mom welcomed him, he saw you across the room, dressed in black. Bloodshot eyes found him instantly, and a flicker of relief passed your expression — unable to muster up a smile, but oh so willing to show him that you were grateful for his presence. You felt frozen to the spot and had been standing in that corner for hours. A man placed his hand on your shoulder and that's when you looked away from Spencer. He noticed it, of course, and was obliged to acknowledge the blonde man by your side. You didn't smile at him either.

Spencer approached, somewhat relieved that you were okay, but so confused and overwhelmed by the entire situation. Almost unwilling to believe whatever bad thing had happened, because he had been so happy with you in that house.

Once he was within your earshot, you greeted weakly, "Hi."

"Hi."

Silence.

"Can we talk?"

Something about the look in your eyes told him that you desperately wanted, no, needed, craved it from him, his presence. With a subtle nod, you excused yourself from the man and lead him to the backyard. Sitting on the same bench you did when it was too late and you talked about the stars together, you reveal softly as you stare into the distance, "Dad's gone."

Spencer felt like he had been punched and all the air had left his lungs after your confirmation of something he was suspecting already. Finally, he blurted out, sitting down by yourself, "W—what?"

"He didn't wake up."

"He didn't wake up?"

"No... Last night, Spencer..." You begun, your voice thick with emotion, "he said that everything was alright." You frowned, tears streaming down your face, "That he... loves... loved me and mom... and that... that had been his role on Earth."

He stood quiet, waiting for the rest of what you had to say, still shaken by the news. Your broken voice and distant gaze were enough to skyrocket the pain he felt. Spencer absolutely adored your dad, and he was one of the few that Spencer confided in wholeheartedly when things got too rough for him to bear by himself. Even though your dad was the quiet type, Spencer would go as far as saying that he was somehow his dad as well.

With your silence, he had a little time to see past the pain. Analyzing your figure, he knew. He knew you had to leave. If you decided to stay, you'd be rooted to the spot and you wouldn't be able to grow any further, forever stuck into the never ending, relentless force of grief. Spencer knew that because, besides knowing you better than anyone else, he had left in hopes to escape the person he thought he was doomed to become. Your voice brought him out of his reverie. "I laughed. I thought he was joking."

"Maybe he was joking."

"Maybe he knew he was leaving."

Silence.

You look up at him. Asking for answers. For something. For comfort.

Sitting down beside you, he held your shaking shoulders as you let tears fall freely and you lost your breath and you choked on your own saliva. An ugly, guttural, desolate crying. Spencer held you through it all — he was ready to scream at anyone on the garden if they had the nerve to go there, but, actually, in that moment, you didn't care that somebody could see or hear you. The effect of the pills your mother had given you had started to wear off and you felt things way more intensely than when she first broke the news.

Dad's gone, was all that you could hear her voice say as Spencer turned his body to fully embrace you, placing your head on his shoulder and sobbing your pain as an effort to quell the ache of your loss.

It took every single ounce of self-control for Spencer not to break down with you, because in that moment, he preferred to swallow his own pain so that he could be your safe space instead. As your sobs slowly subsided, you sighed, squeezing your eyes shut as if that would make the pain that invaded your whole body go away.

"I think..." you started, but never finished.

Silence.

"I think you should move away."

You looked at him, baffled, puzzled, hopeful.

"What?" You whispered softly.

"I think staying won't do you any good. And you know I'm right." His gaze never faltered.

You took a deep breath. "M-my mom... Spencer... she doesn't have anyone else. I-I can't do that... to her..." You gulped. The meer thought of leaving felt exhilarating, but you had to stay. You were rooted.

"Your brothers are always around." He replied.

"Not anymore. Much has changed since… since you... left."

"I didn't leave." He said, defensively.

"I didn't accuse you. At least I didn't mean to. I'm sorry."

He pressed his lips into a thin line. "Would you consider it? Leaving, I mean?" Please, say yes. Please, say yes. Come with me.

"I would... I don't know, Spencer." Your voice was broken. "Too... too much is going on. I can't just... go."

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

"There's dad. And now mom. And that stupid college... I don't know where I fit." You fit next to me, he wanted to scream at you, but he realized it wasn't fair of him to demand anything from you at that moment. "I don't know what path to take without my dad here to guide me." A wet chuckle made its way out of you. He hugged you again.

On a sudden wave of boldness, he stated, "If you stay, this will be your life. If you go, you'll have somewhere to come back to if things go wrong. I—I… I know, um, that I sound very insensitive right now, but that's the truth. Why do you think I went away?"

"I can't." And your tears began again, even harder this time.

He sighed, holding you against his chest once again. Despite the unbearable pain of not being able to help, to persuade you, he decided to respect your decision.

“My father's in a casket. I have got no plans.” You muttered softly. His heart broke for you all over again.

“You've got me. And I've got you.”

Looking up at him, your eyes glimmered with hope. Desperate to believe him, desperate to leave. With him, if he'd have you.

But that wasn't how it worked.

You buried your face on his chest again, willing the tears to stop, to have some control over yourself again.

He held you through it all. He was there for you.

Spencer's stay didn't last long, even though it was filled with an unspoken, desperate beg for you to come with him, even if he didn't quite know how things would work once you accepted. After some thinking, he realized he was asking too much of you for the sake of trying to protect you from what he knew was going to happen. Losing his own father, albeit for a different reason, had changed him permanently and he was scared that you, losing yours, would turn into a different person too. The mere thought of losing you to grief was too much to handle, even if he understood that his pleas were unfair to you, not to mention absurd.

Spencer's brain was turned into a whirlwind of thoughts, all of them desperate to find a way out of this situation, to find a way out to get you out of that place — both physically and mentally. As he stood by your side during your dad's burial, he let you squeeze his hand as if that would somehow make the pain less intense for you. It didn't, but it felt nice to have someone to carry the weight with you.

—

Spencer had joined the FBI at the age of 23, when you were graduating from college. The difference was staggering and it made you laugh the same as it had when he was going to college and you were going to seventh grade. It had been years since you had last met in person, after all, Diana was the main reason he'd go to Vegas, and he didn't go there much because he was often too busy with his studies and his career. Once, he had confided in you, saying that he secretly wished that it would be enough of a good excuse to avoid seeing his mother in a facility and saving them both from the pain. Tonight, though, that would change. You were visiting him in Virginia.

A little nervous, you knocked on his door. Once he answered, you took in his appearance and your heart swelled at the sight. In your eyes, he'd always looked the prettiest, but now… It's like something had shifted: Spencer was all that you saw. And you didn't want to look at anything else anymore.

“Hi,” you greeted in a weak voice. Perhaps the intensity of your smile stole away your will to speak properly.

“You're here.” Spencer muttered, eyes filled with many emotions, but that you decided to read as relief.

“I am.”

“God, it's been so long,” he says, closing the gap between you and him, wrapping his arms around your torso, resting his head on your shoulder, not so subtly trying to smell your perfume. And failing to hide the overdrive when he noticed it was the same from all those years ago, from when you had first kissed.

Pulling away slightly, you cupped his cheeks with both hands and took in his shiny eyes, the ones that you adored so much and now met yours with a new perspective on everything. Once entering his apartment, you found that the place screamed his name, from the scattered books and the endless piles all over his living room. His TV had a documentary in a foreign language on, and you smiled to yourself. Spencer had never changed and, at his core, was still the boy you were once close friends with.

Spencer filled you in on the things you missed. You knew they were mostly about his job because he wasn't one to step out of his comfort zone — not that you'd judge him for it. “I miss having you around, tapping my arm so I know when to stop,” he revealed softly as you two shared a tub of ice cream.

Forget germs, forget pathogens, forget viruses, forget everything. She is here.

You giggled. It set his heart on fire. “Ah, Spencer… You know I only did it when other people were around. Other people are just other people. You're you. And rambling is part of who you are. Don't let that disappear.”

He smiled. You were still you.

“In fact, I have something to tell you.”

His heartbeat fastened, thinking of every possible scenario, reliving every single one of your experiences in the back of his mind. “You… you have something to tell me?” He echoed. He was still him.

Chuckling softly, “I'm glad you're still you, Spencer. I still say your name when people ask me who's my best friend. It's an excuse to relive our favorite stories as I tell them all about you.”

Spencer was left speechless, bashfully looking away from you as he resumed to talk about his days at the FBI. He told you all about his team, the people and what they found on a daily basis. “Do you think it's weird that I study what I do study?”

“No, Spence. You've always had a curious mind. Why do you ask?” You inquired back.

“I don't know… sometimes I think that people find me weird.”

“You're not,” you said, simply. “Your interests are very diverse, and anyone who talks to you will find that out. Being a profiler is not weird.”

He grinned. Your words or arguments about his insecurities throughout your friendship weren't always the most complex, but he always felt better by talking to you. He was never ashamed, never too scared of admitting something or voicing his needs. You made him feel like it was okay to speak, to want, to be. Whatever his limitations were and whatever words he left unspoken, they were never your fault. You'd never frowned at him, not once.

As the night progressed, he filled you in on what he had been doing for fun, mentioning his current readings — one of them on his nightstand. Giddily, you went over to his bedroom to find the novel that he was talking about, so that you could hear him talk about it and recite, by heart, quotes that illustrated his points and interpretation from the book. Upon entering his bedroom, you smiled to yourself. So Spencer. The sand-colored walls, the neat and clean floor, his slightly wrinkled bedsheets, a pile of laundry on top of his bed, a few scattered items on his nightstand — which, by the way, was the same in his mother's house. You had always found it amazingly pretty, the light wood and the black paint that covered the iron of the drawer pulls.

As you reached the piece of furniture and removed the book, you found something scribbled right under where the object had been lying. You were ready to give him a piece of your mind and you opened your mouth, ready to tell him not to ruin the perfect nightstand, but as you turned on the lamp to try and find out what was written there, the writing in black ink made you shiver. You fell silent. It was the date of your first kiss.

Time stopped. Why was that date written there? And why did the possibilities both scared and thrilled you so damn much? You felt someone behind you. “So, you found the book or what?” The question made its way out of his lips in a teasing tone. But, as you turned around softly, the book still clutched tightly in your hands, your eyes questioned him back. Not accusingly, only… curiously.

When he realized what you had discovered, the air left his lungs and he tried desperately to come up with an excuse. It turns out that he hadn't been asked by many people about the meaning of that date — and it's not like he had many visitors, anyway. “I… You… You… Did you… see it?” You managed to nod, weakly.

“What does it mean?” You asked, eyes never leaving his.

Looking away, he replied, “I was scared to forget.”

“Forget?” You inquired, shifting your weight.

“About it…. That night, I mean. about… us.” You gazed at him understandingly once he answered.

“About us?” Funnily enough, now you were the one parroting him. It would have made you chuckle if the situation wasn't that serious.

He breathes out, “Yeah, us.”

A beat of silence. You take a step towards him, and his breath hitches. “Have you forgotten?”

He searches your face. Upon finding nothing but support, he reveals, “There's not a single day I don't remember that moment.” You gulp and he takes a step closer, which makes your grip on the book tighten even more. You closed your eyes — a silent invitation, but it makes him falter once he doesn't have your eyes to navigate him through what he's supposed to do.

I'm glad you're still you, Spencer.

Encouraged by the memory of your words from moments ago and the presence of you, he closes the distance between you, once and for all. There's nothing that could hold him back from loving you once your lips touch and press together in a kiss that makes the book fall to your feet as your hands find their place on the back of his neck.

Spencer and you had been through many firsts during the time you've known each other; some good firsts and some pretty bad firsts. But, there was a quote, from ‘Doctor Who’, that you always reminded him and yourself whenever things got too tough:

On any other day, Spencer Reid would be pissed upon seeing someone drop a book, let alone a considerably heavy one, on his feet — that's absurd. That moment, though, he couldn't care less as he squeezed your waist, as if trying to convince himself that you were there, that it was real, and that he finally got to do what he has always wanted.

"The way I see it, every life is a pile of good things and bad things. The good things don’t always soften the bad things, but vice versa, the bad things don’t always spoil the good things and make them unimportant."

As long as he had you to soften the bad things and had your company during the bad things that made the good ones unimportant, Spencer figured that life would be a pile of more good than bad things.

[shiny-jr]

Dear author, I’m so sorry that someone plagiarised your work especially since you work so hard on your stories 💔😞

We want to help the plagiarised book get taken down so can you please share the link?

If enough people report, the fanfiction site admins will finally listen and take down the plagiarised book, instead of the plagiarism claim being buried.

I hope this issue gets resolved quickly and I hope you have a better day.

UPDATE! Based on this and that and also this.

Thank you, anon. I appreciate your words, but as I stated in one of my previous posts, Wattpad reports are finicky. I believe at this point, we're at day thirteen of dealing with this plagiarizer and day four of it being public and yet despite it all, the plagiarizer has still yet to budge.

So, I thought I'd give another update and give the information we discovered in our findings. As to what we know is copied and from who. Keep in mind, one of these four copies stories has already been taken down and done with. I'll specify which in a moment.

Before I proceed, if you happen to be one of the original writers mentioned in this post and you want your portion removed from this post for whatever reason, let me know. I do not want to upset anyone, except the plagiarizer. At this point in time, I care little for their feelings on the matter when they've had plenty of time to make things right.

The plagiarizer: Kristynaka1

FIRST.

Obviously, the first story that was discovered was mine, with all the information linked in the posts at the very top. I was made aware of this by the inbox from a kind reader. Ever since then, I've been dealing with this plagiarizer.

My mutuals and I found it weird that somehow, the plagiarizer had relatively good grammar with few mistakes in the story. Yet every little note or message they sent, had many spelling mistakes and was sometimes difficult to read. It was inconsistent and strange, and we couldn't make sense of it until we had a theory which some readers in the comments here have already suggested. We theorize that the plagiarizer began to use AI.

Of course, we can't prove this but how else would a user who can't format and type proper messages be able to write whole paragraphs that are actually legible and understandable?

ChatGPT was available to the public sometime in 2022. Before 2022, many of their "stories" were copy and pastes from Tumblr. After 2022, there were differences in the copied stories that made it harder to find the original story and connect it to the original writer. Differences in writing that I doubt the plagiarizer wrote themselves if we go by their messages like:

So yeah. Onto the evidence.

SECOND.

After a few days, one of my mutuals began to suggest searching for the origins of other stories as they doubted any of the posts belonged to the plagiarizer. Low and behold, we found three others. The first of which belonged to @monst and their post. Just by comparing the first paragraph was enough to confirm that.

I won't go into too much detail as the links pretty much say all you need when you actually look at the evidence.

THIRD.

Not even an hour later, we found the second copied story from that oneshot book. Thankfully, there were only two stories there, so there aren't any more copied parts from that series they claim is theirs. The original is @ppsycho and their post. This one again looks like a direct copy, even the image is the same.

FOURTH.

This is the one that was already deleted, thankfully. So there is not many good screenshots I can present, except one before it was gone. So the original writer is @mint-yooxgi and their post.

Here is the only screenshot I have of the wattpad version, just to showcase that it did in fact exist, and it was copied.

So yeah, that's everything for now. If you check out the plagiarizer's profile and recognize the other stories I did not name, please let me know. We thought we found one of them on Quotev, but it wasn't.

Please continue commenting discouragements and reporting the account!

I think I'll leave this off with something I typed last night in a chat:

In whatever way this ends, know that it will end badly for the plagiarizer. They can choose to ignore, but that won't make everything go away. People will remember, I will remember. If they go radio silent and try to forget everything but keep the stories up, comments will still be there. If they try to delete the comments, new comments will just be made. The comments will serve as warnings to others that might stumble across their account, and it will immediately make them click off the account or story because no one wants to read a plagiarized story. The account we see now will just be empty of real readers, so it will remain a miserable little place where each comment will serve as a reminder as to why plagiarism is bad.

Even if they do decide to delete and make another account yet again, whether they decide to copy the same stories they did before or pick entirely new writers to prey upon, it doesn't matter. Readers will either recognize them from before or new readers will notice the plagiarism taking place. It doesn't matter what they do. They will be found and dealt with in some way, shape, or form.

I hope those two or so years of small internet fame were worth it while they lasted.

[neurotic-sinkhole]

oh boy another hermitcraft court case. watched it and my brain exploded like a cuboom firework. the things i've seen as a real life judicial aid and law school student will never compare to the trial.

so here is my analysis of said case:

- glad the judge kept the plaintiff going first! he is right, the defense doesnt know what case to argue against without knowing the case to begin with

- while i love the addition of a jury, typically juries are selected before either side makes a single argument. theres also a whole jury selection process that takes a while, but seeing how one side chose to not prepare anything (which is a real defense i've seen used in a real case before) maybe this was for the better lol

- also, to my knowledge most of the jury (in some way) was a part of the case - i mean the defense even brought this up. the jury was never going to be impartial. however, what confused me more was the usage of "hermitcraft" in the overarching hermitcraft v mumbo case. this verbiage implies not just beef or xb, but the whole server are claiming harm from mumbo's actions.

- furthermore, outside the courthouse there was a banner boasting "xb vs mumbo" but bdubs said "hermitcraft vs mumbo" so i'm going with the words of the judge and what would be on the theoretical court record. this continues to make me wonder what "hermitcraft" classifies as. is it a sovereign nation? is it a state? is it a confederacy of hermits? if hermitcraft, in this specific case, entailed the server as a nation then this should have been a criminal case.

- i need to stop thinking about this aspect of the case or else my brain will explode but i desperately hope for some case law defining this in the future.

- similar to the zombiecleo v docm77 case, defense's lack of witnessess was alarming. defense having only one witness in comparison to the plaintiff's three is severely unbalanced, it only gave the defense a third of the oppurtunity to prove mumbo's innocence (not that they were claiming mumbo didn't commit the actions accused of him)

- i appreciate the judge not allowing for party reps/witnesses to act as agents of the case (objecting, arguing, ect). when bdubs asked jevin where his bar card was i actually felt tears welling in my eyes from laughter.

- the plaintiff's case did a good job in throwing a lot of stuff at the defense. however, i feel they spread themselves too thin with having so many elements to the case (vandalism, noise pollution, enviromental pollution, lost wages, ect), and if they had focused on one or two aspects their case would have been much stronger

- specifically i think they should have focused on the enviromental damage perspective. the other "charges" focused too much on the social ramifications of actions taken by both mumbo and "hermitcraft"

- as for the defense, i think they could have completely gone with the defense of "freedom of expression".

- every single charge could have been easily knocked aside with this defense. it would play to bdubs' (american) brain's inherent obsession with freedom of speech, protest, assembly- just the first amendment overall. oh, the bricks? that was a protest. it is mumbo's right to protest against actions he does not agree with. the noise? the "toxic" enviroment? that's mumbo's expressed creative thoughts. it's his own individual style. he's expressing his own thoughts.

- i think the defense was right on about the train of the food prices too high, but they focused on it too much.

- i also appreciated their use of their singular witness in cub- it is absolutely right to point out there are no written peramiters for zones of builds and such.

overall i think this trial was slightly more on par with a traditional american trial than previous tall claims court cases!! i think bdubs' judgement was just. and most importantly, i can't wait for more cases to analyse (:

[kinda-indecisive]

･˳ . ⋆ .˳⋆ Face Kisses pt. II ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳

Basically how I imagine their reactions to an onslaught of face kisses from you (MC). Fluff.

Part 2: The Rafayel and Sylus Edition!

+:★:+* *+:★:+* +:★:+━━━+:★:+━━━+:★:+* *+:★+:★:+* *+:★

Rafayel

Enjoying the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest against your ear, you are already comfortably nestled into your spot on his lap, arms lazily hung around his neck as he continues to flip quietly through the gallery catalog over your head.

A catalog Thomas had sent Rafayel to review a week ago, which you feel kinda guilty about.

Usually, Thomas can trust you to keep Raf in check, pushing him to slough through the boring stuff so that the two of you can spend the rest of your time together doing other, more exciting things. This past week, however, you had been having a really frustrating time dealing with a particularly nasty group of Wanderers that kept reappearing at the most inopportune times and locations. And, when you showed up in his studio, he noticed something was off instantly.

He’d taken it on as his duty to pull you out of your slump of frustration, dragging you from marketplace to marketplace, shop to shop, beach to beach, hoping to get your mind off of those “creativity sucking Wanderers with bad attitudes”. And that was just on the first day. All week, he’s been there the second you wake up, chattering excitedly about where you two were off to next. And, in all honesty, having him around has kinda helped.

And although you didn’t say it out loud, he sensed this, too. Hence the only reason he has finally given you a second to breathe, curled up in his lap on the sofa, the beach breeze gently blowing at the white curtains, and the only other movement in the room being his occasional page turning.

When he hums softly in disdain at something, you are snapped out of your comfy daze.

You really do appreciate how much effort he puts in to make you feel better at times like these. And even though he insists on brushing it off as no big deal (“I already needed to make a trip to this shop, cutie, you just saved me from having to go alone” ), you know that his actions have always spoken much louder, and much more clearly, than his words.

Your heart nearly bursts at how true the thought is and you shift in his lap to look down at him.

He groans loudly, setting the catalog aside, his eyebrows furrowed as he pouts up at you, “Why are you moving around so much? I was perfectly comfortable staying how we were before and I’ll never get any work done if you keep squirming…”

He continues to pout, even when you take his face between your palms. Such a nice face belonging to someone with such a good heart. An absolutely gorgeous face, even if he does keep that indignant little scowl and crease between his brows.

You kiss this space between his brows first, which makes his eyebrows raise in surprise. But before he even has a chance to collect himself from this initial surprise, you continue planting small kisses to cover the rest of his face, making sure to leave no space neglected.

“Alright, alright,” he says once you’ve already finished, clearing his throat and turning his face away, “You’re treating me like some kind of puppy. I’m not your pet, y’know.”

He crosses his arms over his chest and pretends to be annoyed, his face still turned away. His refusal to look you in the eye, however, only gives you a better view of his bright red ears and cheeks, betraying exactly how he feels about the attention he just received.

“Oh? Well, I guess if you didn’t like that, I shouldn’t do it ever again. I admittedly still don’t know much about what kind of behavior is accepted in Lemuria. And I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable or anything,” you say, pretending to get up from his lap.

He catches your wrist and gently pulls you back down, giving you that signature head tilt and grin when he reassures you.

“Aw, well, I get it. You are still pretty new to this Lemurian thing. Besides, it wasn’t too horrible,” he says, his hair falling in front of his eyes. He swipes it away nonchalantly, continuing, “I could maybe suffer through such treatment once or twice a month. Or a week. Or even once a day if you really felt the strong desire to. You humans and your customs are weird, but I can be a good sport about some of them.”

“No, no, there’s no need,” you continue to tease, pretending to stand once again, “I really should be more mindful when it comes to these kinds of things.”

“No, I insist. As a matter of fact…” he says, catching your wrist again and tugging you back down to sit in his lap, simultaneously managing to wrap his arms around you to prevent you from getting up again, “...dontcha think it’s my turn to give this newfound custom a try?”

+:★:+* *+:★:+* +:★:+━━━+:★:+━━━+:★:+* *+:★+:★:+* *+:★

Sylus

When you arrive at the N109 Zone, it’s almost noon. Therefore you aren’t surprised that Sylus is still in his room, is still asleep, and is not quite ready to compromise that sleep for anyone or anything.

You know that technically doesn’t include you, but you don’t want to ruin his rest, so you leave him be for now. Instead, you decide to check out some more rooms in this grand house.

Your visits to the N109 zone have been much more frequent, despite this past week apart. But before this last week, you had come and gone with a frequency that Sylus had finally seemed pleased with.

In that time, you had familiarized yourself with many of the rooms of this mansion already. That being said, you could almost swear that Sylus brought in something new every single day, so there’s always something new to discover on your visits.

And now you find yourself faltering before a suit of armor you hadn’t noticed before. It must have been pure white at one time, but now has gone dark from wear, age, and transportation. The armor wasn’t made for someone of Sylus’s size, and you wonder what about it made him want to add it to his collection. You try to resonate with it to get something off of it, but nothing really happens.

Soon, however, you grow tired of the silent house and the suit of armor. You figure that a small nap never hurt anyone. Besides, it feels like you haven’t seen Sylus in ages, even though it’s only been a week. A long, tedious week of Wanderers and stuck up clients who you sometimes thought about leaving to fend off the Wanderers themselves.

Slipping into his bedroom, his bedside lamp is on. The dim light casts strange shadows around the room, but softly illuminates the man on the bed.

Walking around the bed, you crawl onto the mattress and begin to make yourself comfy, trying to do it slowly so you don’t disturb he who breathes deeply beside you. Once settled, you roll over to face him.

His normally strong features look so soft in this lighting, and his brow is furrowed slightly in his sleep, his expression one of a man concerned. Your heart aches a little as you realize just how much you’ve missed him this week despite trying to convince yourself you were better off without his incessant teasing. Reaching out, you mean to brush your fingertips over his cheekbones, but you suddenly hesitate before touching him. He sleeps so lightly sometimes and you don’t want to be the reason he can’t fall back to sleep.

But it’s already too late.

That frown of concern shifts into confusion as his eyes open—the color as bright and striking as ever—then relief when he sees you, sleepily taking your hand in his own and intertwining your fingers. Rolling onto his side, he smiles faintly at the sight of you tucked in beside him.

“I’m not dreaming, am I, sweetie?” he murmurs, his already deep voice even deeper with sleep, “It’s been 8 days and a few hours since I saw you last.”

“You keep count?” you tease as he brings your wrist to his lips.

“Maybe I do,” he says with a huff and a shrug, his still-heavy eyelids closing again. You know he isn’t asleep, however, by the sound of his annoyed grunt when you try to slip your hand out of his grasp, “Leaving already?”

“No, I just want to get more comfortable.”

His eyes still closed, he allows you to take your hand back. You start to settle in beside him, but thinking about how lovely and worried he’d looked when you first came in, you suddenly have an idea to hopefully help soothe whatever dreams he’d been having.

His brow furrows again when you take his face in-between your hands, but a smug little smile is quick to replace it as you place feather-light little kisses against every inch of his face.

He sinks deeper into the mattress as you do, his entire body relaxing as you surge with gratitude for the fact that he shares this vulnerable side with you and only you. By the time you finish, his smug smile has faded softly as he dozes off and on again.

“Hmm? Is that all?” he hums. Rolling your eyes, you chuckle, sliding back into the blankets, grabbing his arm and drawing it around you as well. Nuzzling his nose against the back of your neck, he murmurs with a voice as smooth as velvet, “Thank you, sweetie. It’s been a hell of a week and I needed that.”

“Don’t be silly,” you murmur, “Now go back to sleep, Sylus.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part 1: Xavier and Zayne Edition

A Short Little Tag List! 💕 (I hope you enjoy :))

@lemurianmaster @myeagleexpert

[strawberriesoup]

24 to 25٠࣪⭑

── .✦ A snowstorm forces you to take refuge with Jisung on christmas eve

word count: 6.6k

genre: fluff with a little angst, jisung x female reader, mutual pining, comfort, acquaintances to lovers

warnings: cursing, feelings, reader is down horrendously bad for jisung, kisses, jisung is a sweetheart

a/n: this has been in the works for a while (i’m bad at writing stuff fast) SO IM SUPER HAPPY THAT I WAS ABLE TO GET IT OUT FOR THE HOLIDAY SEASON

any/all feedback is highly appreciated!!

taglist: @jisunggy @holly-here @hannamoon143 @fly-you-dam-fools

if you would like to be added to my general taglist, send me a comment or an ask! <3

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The holiday season is a time for joy, a time to share laughter and meals, a time to wear fuzzy socks and fall asleep watching bad Christmas movies. Well, that’s what it’s supposed to be anyways. It’s a little hard to get into the Christmas cheer when each snowflake swirling outside your windshield is somehow concerningly larger than the last.

Wind whistles past your car as you squint your eyes, trying — and failing— to get any sort of visibility through the rapidly thickening blanket of snow and darkness. The gas light flashes on with a ping. Damn it. Continuing on whilst the best you can make out of your surroundings is a screen of nothingness and the occasional telephone pole doesn’t seem like the best course of action right now.

Eventually, you manage to pull into a small gas station about five minutes away by reluctantly putting your life into the hands of Google Maps.

Blowing warmth onto your hands, white-knuckled from your death grip on the steering wheel, you yank your phone out of the cupholder. Stranded in some dingy parking lot a good forty-five minutes away from your apartment is definitely where you needed to be on Christmas Eve, thanks so much universe. And your feet are cold.

You had really wanted to surprise them. The last time you’d seen your family was back in March, well over half a year ago. You thought Christmas as the perfect opportunity to visit. Just imagining the look on their faces alone was more than enough to spur your enthusiasm. But, then again, you hear the worries in the back of your mind. You hadn’t visited in so long, rarely even sending a text their way. And coming over with zero warning? They might not be as happy as you hoped.

No, of course they would be happy to see you, right? Right. Either way, there’s no way you’re going anywhere tonight.

Warm air from the AC fans across your face as you slump back in your chair, unfastening the top clasp of your coat that suddenly seems to be suffocating you. What do you even do in this situation? Call someone?

Scrolling through your contacts, your eyes alight on a familiar name.

Han Jisung

You face lights up with hope. Didn’t he say something about living around here? You open his contact, immediately faced with the looming call button in the top right corner of the screen.

Jisung is somewhat of an aquaintance of yours. Calling him a friend might be too bold. Being partners on a group project doesn’t automatically equal friendship, but you two had gotten along quite well. At least, you thought so. Maybe that was wishful thinking coming from your fat crush on him and his gorgeous smile, but still.

What are you doing? You hardly know this guy, and you’re going to call him on Christmas Eve night so he can, what, pick you up? You have to admit, the thought sets off little warning bells in your head. But what other options do you have?

Finger hovering over the button, you hesitate for a moment longer before pressing call.

The line rings once, twice. What if he doesn’t answer? He’s probably busy, it is Christmas eve after all. Did he ever mention leaving town for the holidays?

You’re so busy trying to recall previous conversations with him that you almost don’t notice the line picking up before the third ring. Shit, that was faster than you were expecting. Jisung’s voice greets you through the speaker.

“Heyy, what’s up?”

At the sound of his voice, your heart does a little leap in your chest. You take a deep breath before answering.

“Hi Jisung. I, uh, have a bit of a favor to ask.”

⋆⁺₊❅ ⁺₊❆⋆

You were right about him living close, because less than fifteen minutes later the bright flash of headlights announces Jisung’s arrival. You know that looking nice should be the least of your priorities right now, but that doesn’t stop you from flipping open the sunvisor and briefly inspecting your appearance.

Jisung’s car door thuds shut as you hop out of your own car, met with a brisk rush of air that fills your lungs, chilling you from the inside out. He wasn’t far, but with the heavy snow you can just make out his form from across the lot. You’re quick to hustle towards his dark sillouette, eager to get out of the cold as soon as possible.

Meeting in the middle sooner than you had expected, both you and Jisung halt in tandem, breaths coming in puffs of condensation. The zipper of his puffer jacket is half undone, complimented by a scarf thrown haphazardly around his neck. His hands that are shoved deep in the pockets of his coat give hint to the fact that he’s probably not even wearing gloves.

Neither of you had spoken a word. The silence is painfully awkward, and you can tell he feels it too, if the way he glances down at his feet in favor of meeting your eyes is anything to go by.

“So, do you—”

“Should we—”

Speaking simultaneously, you both cut your sentences short, falling into a silence that’s somehow louder than the last. God, you had expected it to be awkward but not this awkward. Meeting with Jisung outside of a college setting feels so foreign, the only way you’ve interacted with him thus far has been through school. You can feel your ears burn as Jisung clears his throat.

“Sorry, uh, you were saying?” He pulls his hand out of his pocket to gesture at you, confirming that he is indeed not wearing gloves.

The question hangs in the air as Jisung pushes his glasses up with two fingers and looks at you expectantly. His cheeks are tinted with blush from the prickling cold. Lips slightly parted, his breath hisses through his teeth with every inhale, as if trying to supress them from chattering.

“Oh, yeah,” you begin your sentence again, shaking your head to focus. You’re standing in a parking lot in the middle of an actual snowstorm, now is not the time to be fawning over him. “should we, like, head to your car? I’m freezing. I’ll just leave my car here because it’s— yeah.” You twist around to look at your drab little car. It’ll be fine.

He lets out a little puff of laughter, sending a cloud of frost into the air.

“Yeah, good idea. c’mon let’s go.”

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

The car ride to Jisung’s place is less awkward than your experience in the parking lot, but not by much. A comment is occasionally made about the storm, but other than that the ride is filled with silence and the steady swishing of windshield wipers.

Jisung glances at you from the corner of his eye. You’re examining the fluff on your gloves with your head down, not seeming too intrested in conversation.

Or maybe you’re uncomfortable. That would make a lot of sense.

Wincing internally at himself, Jisung draws his attention back to the road and furrows his brow, trying to remember if he’s done something wrong. Although, he supposes that being alone with, well, not a stranger— Jisung would like to think he’s at least a good aquaintance to you— but with someone you don't know too well, is enough to put anyone on edge. He has to remind himself that this was your idea.

When your contact info had popped up on his screen, interrupting his very important business (scrolling), he promptly froze, had an intense mental battle on how he should answer, dropped his phone, picked it back up again, and hit answer, all in the span of about four seconds.

Jisung has to admit he does have a slight thing for you. Well okay, maybe a big thing. Like, he has your class schedule and favorite study spot memorized kind of big. Also you wear your hair up on Tuesdays.

But thats besides the point really.

After what feels like a lifetime of driving and the occasional buzzing of muted christmas music playing through the radio, you two finally arrive at Jisung’s place.

It’s nicer than you had expected. The house is dimly lit, but perfectly tidy. Best of all, it’s warm. Behind you, Jisung’s keys jingle as he hangs them up next to the door.

“Uh, make yourself at home, okay? There’s instant ramen, some milk… actually, that’s about it but hey, at least there’s ramen.” He beckons you in, tugging his scarf off while smiling ruefully at the lack of food options to offer.

“That’s okay, I believe in instant ramen supremacy,” you state confidently, earning a laugh from Jisung as you follow him into the kitchen, resting your weight on the counter.

“A woman after my own heart I see,” He jokes, closing his eyes and placing a hand dramatically over his heart. His knuckles are still flushed pink from the cold.

If only he knew.

You can feel the awkward tension from earlier start to melt away now that you’re here. Thank God, because you were seriously considering going back to your car and just waiting out the night there. You couldn’t do that though. Jisung was so willing to help, coming as soon as you had called. Which is kind of crazy, if you stop to think about it for a second. Going out of your way to drive out in a snowstorm and picking someone up on Christmas Eve would be absolutely out of the question for most people, let alone someone you aren’t even close with.

Jisung is busying himself with running some warm water in the kitchen. He rests one elbow on the counter, testing the water tempature. You find yourself watching his movements, how he runs a hand through his hair, the dark strands dampening with the moisture from his hand, and how his eyebrows pinch in concentration until the tempature is just right. Jisung seems more comfortable and relaxed now that he’s here. He’s not a tall man, by any stretch of the imagination, but his confident demeanor makes his presence seem much larger.

Running his chilled hands underneath the warm faucet to bring the warmth back, Jisung looks to the window. You blink and follow suit. Fortunately, he hadn’t caught you staring.

“Holy shit, we must have made it here just in time,” He laughs incredulously, shutting off the sink and shaking the rest of the dampness from his hands.

The window is completely engulfed in white.

Outside, the wind angrily laments that you’re inside and safe. You can’t imagine being stuck out there in that, alone. Just the thought of it makes your insides churn with a strange mixture of anxiety and relief, and you realize that you haven’t even thanked Jisung yet for saving your sorry ass. You open your mouth, but the words seem to dry up on your tongue.

Jisung tilts his head at you, questioning.

“No for real, I haven’t seen a snow this crazy in a while,” Running your hand along the cool countertop, you fix your eyes on an unlit candle to the left of Jisung’s form. Why can’t you just say thank you? It’s not that hard, yet you find yourself avoiding the two simple words like the plauge.

A beat of silence falls over the two of you, but this time it’s comfortable. There’s no rush or pressure to say anything, just a quiet presence while gazing out at the bright sheet that blankets the night.

⋆⁺₊❅ ⁺₊❆⋆

You have an idea.

Is it a good idea? Probably not, but it’s an idea nonetheless.

While you had been absentmindedly thumbing through your Pinterest homepage in an attempt to pass time, you came across a recipe. And not just any recipe, it’s a sugar cookie recipe in the likeness of a snowman. With a little face on it.

The tantalizing image stirrs your sweet tooth, and you glance over at Jisung on the other side of the couch. He seems to be putting an obviously large amount of distance between the two of you, as the entire middle section of the couch remains empty with you and Jisung perched on either side.

“Hey, so… are you any good at baking?”

Jisung’s head jerks up at your question.

“Uhhh. I plead the fifth.”

You find yourself grinning.

“How about this, do you like baking?”

“Now that. Is a different story.” His knees spread apart as he adjusts his position on the couch, slouching lower and crossing his arms across his chest. He looks at you sideways. “What, did you have something in mind?”

You definitely do have something in mind, and it doesn't have anything to do with baking.

“Hear me out,” you point your phone screen at Jisung, who leans in to squint at it. “we make christmas cookies. In the shape of snowmen.”

“You know what, hell yeah. Nothing better to do,” Jisung stretches his arms towards the ceiling, hands balling up into fists. Your wandering eyes betray you, and you can’t help but notice the little sliver of smooth skin that peeks out from where his shirt slides up as he stretches. He needs to stop being so casually sexy right now or you might go crazy. “Cross your fingers though, ‘cause I dunno if I have any eggs.”

⋆⁺₊❅ ⁺₊❆⋆

Currently standing in a neat line across the countertop are all the gathered ingredients necessary for the cookies. Jisung had miraculously acquired two eggs from the depths of his fridge, which now sit next to the flour, and you had spent a good five minutes opening and closing cabinets in search of all the dry ingredients.

You’ve baked a couple of times before. Granted, the first time the cookies were still soft in the middle and the second time may or may not have involved the fire department, but third time’s the charm right? You’re determined to make and eat these cookies.

Next to you, Jisung is staring at the ingredients, hands on his hips. Seemingly at a loss, he looks over to you for instructions.

“Okay, step one: combine the dry ingredients…”

So far, so good. Jisung was put in charge of the flour mixture, while you had started the task of creaming the butter and sugar together.

When you glance up to check on Jisung after a bit, you find him leveling out a scoop of flour, meticulously brushing any stray lumps of powder off of the top with a butter knife. His eyes squint in concentration until he is satisfied with the measurement, proceeding to dump it into the bowl. A faint cloud of white powder dusts the air.

You watch him with amusement as he scoops another cup out of the flour bag, starting the whole process over again.

He must have felt you staring, because his head darts up, eyes finding yours. You quickly duck your head back towards your work.

You wonder if Jisung is a perfectionist with most things in his life. He’s mentioned before that he writes and produces music, you figure that has a certain degree of perfectionism to it. Then again, during the car ride here your feet were resting on several bags of fast food from various restaurants. Maybe his perfectionism is selective.

The undeveloped batter clings to the mixer as you switch it off and pull it out of the bowl. You swipe a finger over one of the whisks and pop it in your mouth. It might just be sugar and butter, but hey, that shit’s good.

Turning your head to offer Jisung a taste, you let out a gasp of surprise upon realizing that he’s standing right behind you. He leans forward, lowkey trapping you between him and the counter as he crosses an arm around you to scoop up some of the mixture from the edge of the bowl. Your breath catches at his proximity. His warm breath brushes againt your neck, causing a shiver to run up your spine.

He draws away, licking his finger while you remain frozen in place. What happened to him keeping a good distance from you? You don’t think he even realizes what he just did, because he just strolls on back to his little station, quietly humming a tune as he goes.

⋆⁺₊❅ ⁺₊❆⋆

As soon as the oven door slams shut, Jisung is immediately squatted in front of it, dutifully watching the uniform balls of dough through the yellow tint of the oven light.

“You know those will take, like, thirteen minutes to cook, right?” Leaning over the countertop, you raise an eyebrow at his crouched form.

“Thirteen? No way. I’ll basically be dead by then.” Jisung stands up, brushing some of the remaining flour off his pants. That’s when you notice a patch of white just above his left eyebrow. How did that even happen?

You step forward without thinking, reaching up to rub the spot off with your thumb. His skin is ridiculously soft, and you find your treacherous fingers lingering for probably longer than was strictly necessary.

Jisung’s eyes are twice as wide as normal as you pull your hand away. He blinks at you and swallows, causing his throat to bob up and down.

Oh so now he’s flustered. You’re beginning to think your little crush is reciprocated after all.

Momentarily confident, you send him a sweet smile.

“That’s better.”

Jisung doesn't say anything in return, but you don't think you’re imagining the slight red tint to his ears.

Three loud beeps announce that the cookies have completed their oven time and are now ready to be taken out and consumed.

Jisung arms himself with oven mitts and carefully slides the cookie tray out of the oven and onto the potholders that you had placed on the countertop a few minutes prior.

They look good. Like, really good. You can feel your mouth starting to water.

“Holy shit, I think we actually did it! Thank God they didn't catch on fire this time,” you exclaim, poking one experimentally with a finger.

Jisung’s eyebrows fly up and he shoots you a bewildered look.

“I thought you said you could cook??”

“Hey now, I never said that…”

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

Throughout the night, you have become painfully aware of the fact that you are wearing jeans.

Thankfully, since you were heading to your family’s house anyways, you have an entire suitcase packed with the works. Your comfy pajamas from last year are sounding really good right now.

Jisung is propped up on the corner of the couch with a cookie in one hand and his phone in the other. His cheeks are stuffed with probably half of said cookie right now, making him look like some sort of rodent. It’s cute.

You need to ask him where his bathroom is to change, but you find yourself hesitating. Jisung looks up at you with a confused expression and a cookie crumb clinging to his cheek.

Realizing that you’re just looming over the side of his couch ominously, you are quick to blurt out your question.

“Do you know where the bathroom is?”

Goddamnit. Of course he knows where his own fucking bathroom is. What kind of question is that?

Jisung, luckily, seems to have found it amusing, his eyes squinting up as he lets out a hearty laugh. Which almost, almost, makes up for the fact that you just asked the stupidest question in the history of mankind. It doesn’t stop your cheeks from heating up though.

“Yeah, I think it’s down the hallway to the left,”

He’s playing along. You wonder if he has any idea how much better that makes you feel as you break into a wide smile and thank him, scurrying off to go grab your…

Suitcase.

Your suitcase. Where was it? You don’t remember bringing it to Jisung’s place, where could it be? Did you- oh. You remember your dingy little car, sitting out there in the gas station parking lot. Your dingy little car that happened to have your suitcase in it.

Sometimes you surprise yourself, because how can one be this much of a mess? Everything has gone wrong tonight, and now this? You couldn’t even make it to your family’s house to surprise them. The weight of it all is beginning to crush you, forcing tears to well up in your eyes.

Stopping in the hallway around the corner, out of Jisung’s eyeshot, you shove your impending emotions down your throat, the roughness of the wall against your fist keeping you steady. You are not going to cry right now. You’ll find a solution. You just need to calm down first. Closing your eyes, you take in deep breaths, letting each exhale push you farther away from tears.

Once you’re sure you have yourself under control, you consider your options. You could ask Jisung for something to wear, or you could remain uncomfortable in your jeans for the remainder of the night. Now, you wouldn’t be upset about wearing Jisung’s clothes, not even in the slightest. They’d probably smell like him, too. How that man always smells so damn good is beyond you.

He’ll understand if you ask him for his clothes. You know he will. Hopefully, he won’t take it in the wrong way. It’s not like you want to wear his clothes, you just have to because you don’t have any other option.

Yeah no, you really just want to wear his clothes.

Rounding the corner, you expect to see Jisung on the couch only to find that he’s no longer in his spot, or in the living room, for that matter. He’s not in the kitchen either (which still has various baking supplies and smears of flour scattered about. You make a mental note to clean that up later). Huh. Maybe he went to his room. You settle down on the couch to wait for him, busying yourself with counting your knuckles.

Sock-padded footsteps cause your head to perk up in their direction. Jisung emerges from his room, closing the door behind him with his foot. His face lights up when he finds you on the couch.

“I wasn’t sure if you had brought any PJs or not, so, I grabbed some things you can wear,” He says, then seems to check himself and quickly adds, “If you want! You don’t, like, have to or anything, just thought I would offer.” In his arms he carries a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie.

You could kiss him right now.

“Oh my God, Jisung, are you sure?”

“Yeah, of course, it’s no problem at all.” He reassures you.

Jisung had offered the clothes purely out of wanting to make sure you’re comfortable. Sleeping in jeans is pretty awful and he didn’t see you bring a suitcase or anything. Maybe he also wanted to give you his clothes but that’s irrelevant.

He watches as you skip off to the bathroom to change with a newfound pep to your step. Jisung shakes his head, grinning despite himself. You’re just so damn cute.

This storm might just be the best thing that’s happened to Jisung in a while. Getting to spend time with you? And on Christmas Eve no less. If you’d have told him that yesterday, he wouldn't have believed it one bit. It’s like all his prayers have been answered.

He finds himself wondering, what were your plans before you called him for help? Are you upset that you’re here, at his place, instead of wherever you were heading to? Jisung hopes not. As much as he’s happy you’re here to keep him company, he can’t help but worry about how you’re feeling about the situation.

As if on cue, you appear once again at the entrance to the hallway. This time though, you’re all cozyed up in his clothes.

Jisung’s eyes widen as he takes in the sight of you. The sweats nearly swallow your feet whole, and his hoodie— which is oversized in the first place—fits almost comically large on your frame; hanging off of one shoulder.

It’s not the exposed shoulder that gets him necessarily, this isn’t the 19th century, it’s the fact that you’re in his clothes and in his house.

He swallows.

“You look- you, uh, yeah. You look good. Warm?”

Jisung’s reaction tells you all you need to know. You laugh in response.

“Mhm! Add this to the list of things I definitely owe you for,”

“Pshh, nah don’t even worry about it, i’m happy to help,” Jisung figures that if he doesn’t look at you too hard, he’ll be able to keep his brain from short-circuiting. “Do you want to watch a movie or something?” Sparing a careful glance back up at you, he pats the couch to back up his offer.

The couch dips as you plop down next to him, sporting that smile of yours that has him weak. You had looked so distraught just a couple of minutes ago, and just the simple act of him offering his clothes and a movie had brought your spirits right up. Cute.

Jisung rests his chin on his hand and listens as you lay out your christmas movie options, but he’s only half-paying attention. He knows that he’ll enjoy whatever movie you choose, as long as you’re there to watch it with him.

He also knows that he’s probably more than a little bit head over heels for you.

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

The smell of freshly-microwaved popcorn fills the room as you and Jisung take your respective places on the couch, the silent agreement apparently being to keep at least a foot between your bodies at all times

You settle in and get comfortable while the opening credits roll across the screen. Jisung is tossing some popcorn in his mouth, having already eaten nearly half of his bag. You get the feeling that he’s going to be asking to steal some of your popcorn sooner or later.

Even with him being a foot away, you are hyper-aware of his presence. The movie is starting, but you know there’s no way you are going to able to maintain any sort of attention span with Jisung sitting right there.

Still facing towards the screen, you sneak a quick look at him from the corner of your eye, only to find his eyes already trained on you.

The unexpected eye contact makes your heart jump to your throat, and you quickly jerk your gaze back to the television.

Why was he looking at you? Is he still looking? You consider turning again to check, but then decide against it, preferring to live in ignorance for the time being. You’re not sure you can deal with knowing he’s looking at you right now.

Not even ten minutes into the movie, a particularly loud whistle of wind rushes past the windows. The lights flicker once. And then again.

Fuck.

You barely have time to turn and look at a now wide-eyed Jisung before both of you are plunged into absolute darkness.

A small yelp of terror escapes from Jisung, and you feel his weight shift on the couch.

Blinking rapidly as though that would make the lights magically turn back on, you find yourself scooting towards Jisung. A heartbeat of silence passes, with only the sound of your and Jisung’s soft breaths cutting through the darkness.

“The power’s out,” He observes helpfully, voice noticably higher than it’s normal tenor.

“No shit.” You pull out your phone to turn on the flashlight, illuminating your faces. Jisung squeezes his eyes shut at the sudden intrusion of light, peeking one eye open at you after a moment.

The light reveals that he is a lot closer than you had thought. Barely an inch of space was left between your legs, and you swear you can feel warmth radiating off of him. Huh. That little mole on his face is visible from here.

Jisung swallows hard (apparently a habit of his) and quickly combs a hand through his hair, pulling himself up from the couch.

“Hold on, I think I have a candle somewhere,” He still looks a bit frazzled, but heads towards the kitchen nonetheless.

You turn and cross your arms over the back of the couch, illuminating his path.

“You do, it’s on the counter,” You point at it, having noticed it earlier when you’d first arrived. “‘Spiced apple toddy’, huh?”

You grin at the offended look on Jisung’s face as he approaches, candle and lighter in hand.

“Hey! They’re seasonal,” he objects to your teasing, placing the candle on the coffee table.

T he lighter sparks into a flame as Jisung drops back down on the couch and lights the candle, bathing your surroundings in a soft, warm light.

Well. So much for the Christmas movie.

“That sucks, I really wanted to see what was going to happen to Frosty this year,” Jisung mirrors your thoughts with a sigh, crossing one ankle over his leg and shaking his head with a tsk.

You giggle, giving him a light shove on the shoulder. In the back of your mind, you feel like you should be upset about yet another thing going wrong tonight. But how could something be wrong, really, when Jisung is smiling like that. Smiling like that because of you. The thought ignites little butterflies in your stomach.

The power doesn't seem to have any plans to turn on again anytime soon, so you and Jisung break out a deck of cards. Turns out he’s a big trash talker when it comes to competition, which has you laughing your head off at the creative insults he throws at you. Seriously, how does he come up with these?

After losing your third game of speed, you realize that goosebumps have began to form all up and down your arms. Not wanting Jisung to notice, you try to smooth them down as nonchalantly as possible.

Of course, he immediately notices.

“Are you cold?” He furrows his eyebrows in concern, drawing his attention away from his hand of cards to you.

“Nope!” A shiver decides that it’s the right moment to shake your whole body. “Okay maybe a little,” you admit, “but I’m totally fine, it’s not bad at all.”

In all honesty, that was a complete lie. It’s cold as shit. You just hope your smile is enough to distract from your clenched teeth and slightly runny nose.

Jisung raises an eyebrow at you skeptically, obviously not buying it.

“So I guess if I got a blanket, you wouldn't want it, right?”

“Hey, thats not-” you start to protest to him poking fun at you, but your confidence shrivels when Jisung places his cards on the table, batting his eyes at you in mock attention.

It’s flustering, to say the least. He directly offered you the solution to your discomfort, and didn’t really leave you with the choice to say no. Which, you decide, is kinda hot. That seems to describe most of what Jisung does, though.

You drop your hands down on the table in defeat. “Fine. Can I please have a blanket?”

As a response to your request, Jisung simply hoists himself up once more, tapping you twice on the top of the head as he passes.

“Attagirl.”

The sideways grin he flashes you tells you that he knows exactly the effect that that little word had on your insides.

He’s going to be the death of you.

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

You had just barely managed to compose yourself when Jisung returns with not one, not two, but an entire armful of blankets. In favor of just dropping them all on the couch, he decides to launch both himself and the blankets onto the couch simultaniously. His legs fly up behind him as he lands belly-down onto the pile of blankets, face buried in the soft fabric.

Whether he’s trying to draw out a laugh or not, you bark out a laugh that’s probably louder than the situation called for. You slap a hand over your mouth in embarrassment as he lifts himself up to sit on the empty cushion of the couch.

It’s intresting, the way he moves. Every motion so natural, every curve so perfect, it traps your attention to him like a moth to a flame. His muscles are lean, tensing when he pushes himself up. You follow the lightest trace of a vein trailing down from his bicep to his hand, absentmindedly wondering how his hand would feel in yours. Wondering if he would ever so lightly run his fingers over the back of your hand, your collarbone, your jaw…

“So do you want a blanket or what?” Jisung waves his hand, snapping you out of your head. You hope he hadn’t noticed the way you were essentially ogling him just now. He most likely had though, given how annoyingly observant he’s proven to be.

The corners of Jisung’s mouth quirk up, a witheld laugh brimming behind his eyes. Okay scratch that, he definitely noticed.

Too humiliated to say anything, you take a seat next to him and toss a blanket over your head. The outside noises dim significantly from under the shelter of the blanket. The blanket that— unfortunately for you and your creative imagination— smells quite strongly of Jisung. You find yourself having to refrain from burying your face in the cloth. Because that would be weird.

It’s warm at least. Staying here forever sounds like a good plan.

A wave of fresh, cool air washes over you as the edge of the blanket lifts up to reveal Jisung peeking in at you.

“May I join you?”

You nod, hoping the darkness will conceal your flushed face. Jisung scootches to sit next to you and flicks the blanket back over both of your forms. Darkness encases you once more, only this time you aren’t alone.

Jisung’s phone light shines out, lighting up your faces in such a way that makes you think he might break into some cheesy horror story; the kind that you were genuinely terrified of in second grade.

He’s close. Like, really close. You could count his eyelashes if you wanted.

His eyes crinkle slightly as he gives you a little close-mouthed smile. He looks so lovely right now, you can’t help but smile right back at him. Except your smile definitely isn't lovely since you’re cheesing so hard.

When he chuckles, a breath of warm air puffs over your face, making you warmer than you think you’ve ever been.

Despite being a good bodily temprature already, the urge to wrap your arms around Jisung and bask in his physical presence is getting stronger by the second.

“I’m still cold.” The words tumble from your mouth before you can stop them, such a blatant untruth that it makes your heart speed up.

Jisung’s head drops, shoulders bouncing slightly with silent laughter.

As if your ears couldn't get any hotter than they were already.

“Still cold, huh? You know what’s crazy?” He leans in just a touch further as if about to tell you some great secret, his voice quieting almost to a whisper. “Me too.”

Jisung arm wraps around your shoulders, and he turns you sideways, pulling you flush to him. How you seem to fit perfectly in the curve of his side, you’ll never know. Resting your head down on his shoulder and tentatively reaching a hand up to curl on his chest, you let out a breath you didn't even know you were holding. His heartbeat pounds in your ear, slower than your own jumping pulse, but much louder.

Wrapped in Jisung’s arms, you are definitely warmer than before. Which—since you really weren’t cold in the first place— has you sweating, the space under the blanket suddenly feeling small and suffocating.

You toss the top of the blanket off of your heads, inhaling the cold, crisp air now available to your lungs.

You’re not sure what comes over you. maybe it was the way that he tilts his head back to lean on the back of the couch, or maybe it was the little sigh he lets out, his breath just barely visible in the chilled air surrounding you. The hand that’s gently rubbing up and down your upper arm definitely isn't helping either.

You reach up and plant a chaste kiss to his cheek.

Jisung instantly tenses under you, every muscle tightening. You pull back to look at him, finding him frozen, staring straight ahead. a gorgeous pink tint graces his cheeks.

Always so confident until he’s the one being flirted with. Cute.

He’s silent and still for just a hint too long, and you start to get worried. Did you read the energy wrong? Was he just being nice?

You open your mouth to blurt out some sort of apology, but Jisung turns his head to look at you, eyes wide, searching your own. Your mouth snaps shut.

“Can you do that again?” His request is quiet and mumbled, nervousness evident in the way his knee starts to bounce up and down rapidly.

You reach up to grab his chin, his skin soft beneath your fingers. He’s real. He’s here and under your fingertips, gazing at you like you hung the moon.

You lean in, but pause to hover just millimeters away from his lips, your breaths mingling in the space between.

It’s not until Jisung makes a noise in his throat that is somewhere between a huff and a whine that you close the final distance between you two.

A white-hot flame ignites in your stomach when your mouths connect, only blazing brighter when Jisung runs his hand up the length of your back to rest it on the back of your head, holding you softly but firmly to him.

He wants you, everything about you. And you want him too, you always have.

When you part, you let out a breathless giggle. What just happened?

It seems as though Jisung is feeling the same way, a look of disbelief of his face as his eyes flick between your own.

“Thank you.” The two words that you’ve been skirting around all night finally slip past your lips.

“For what, the kiss? Anytime, babe.” He sends you an over-exaggerated wink, which of course doesn’t go unnoticed by you, but it is drowned out by the slightly more pressing fact that he just called you ��babe’.

Not that you mind. At all, actually.

“First of all, I’m the one who gave you the kiss, thank you very much, and secondly I just- well, it just means, y’know, a lot to me that you picked me up… and stuff…” You wince as your confidence audibly dwindles, looking at the couch beside him, “So yeah, thank you. So much. I don’t know what I would have done without you tonight.”

“Hey, hey,” He brings your chin back up to look at him. “Seriously, it was no trouble at all. To be honest, I was so not looking forward to being alone on Christmas eve.” His gaze lightens, “So really, I should be thanking you because this is probably the best thing that could have happened to me.”

His genuine words paired with that soft look on his face make you realize that you wouldn’t rather be anywhere else or with anyone else tonight.

For the nth time tonight, you smile.

[deprivedreality]

𝗜𝗦 𝗧𝗛𝗔𝗧 𝘿𝙔𝙉𝘼𝙈𝙄𝙂𝙃𝙏?!

Word Count: 1.2k

Content contains: pro-hero bakugo being a career man. mentions of katsuki having an s/o! I hope these ideas capture his fiery, no-nonsense personality while also showing how much he’s grown into a reliable and inspiring hero.

prohero!Katsuki Bakugo who when every time someone mispronounces his hero name, he snaps and shouts “It’s DY-NA-MIGHT, not ‘Dynamo’ or whatever crap you just said! Learn how to read, damn it!”

prohero!Katsuki Bakugo who has a rigorous training schedule. Yes, cooking breakfast and cuddle time with his s/o is part of that schedule nevertheless. Even as a pro, Bakugo starts his day with a 5:00 a.m. workout. His mornings include explosive quirk drills, which terrify his neighbors, but he refuses to apologize because, “Heroes don’t take days off, morons.” He does try to keep it down a notch when he heard through his neighbors' kid that they were thinking about moving houses.

prohero!Katsuki Bakugo who insists on being on the frontlines for every mission, no matter the scale. He’s the first to charge in during a disaster and won’t leave until every civilian is accounted for. “If I’m not giving 100%, why the hell am I here?” And you better know that everyone appreciated him for his selfless actions.

Prohero!Katsuki Bakugo who is efficient to a fault. His rescue operations are insanely effective but intimidating. He’ll shout at panicked civilians to “Move your asses, idiot!” but then carry them out of danger with precision and speed. Later, when they thank him, he awkwardly mutters, “Yeah, whatever. That's what I'm here for anyway. Just don’t get stuck again.”

prohero!Katsuki Bakugo who has a signature explosion mark. After saving the day, he always leaves behind a controlled, smoky explosion shaped like his logo—an orange starburst with jagged edges. Kids love it and call it his “hero stamp.” He just did it one time because y/n liked the idea of him having something like a bat-signal, it became like a routine for him.

prohero!Katsuki Bakugo who's surprisingly good with kids. He didn’t expect it either, but kids adore him. When they swarm him for autographs, he grumbles, “You better not smudge this!” but secretly loves the attention. He even kneels down to their level so they can high-five him. It did took him time to warm up to them after some thought, he wanted to be like how All Might was when he was a kid.

prohero!Katsuki Bakugo who is strict with his sidekicks. Bakugo’s sidekicks are the most well-trained in the industry because he pushes them relentlessly. He shouts, “If you can’t handle this, you’re wasting my damn time!” but always ensures they’re prepared for real missions.

prohero!Katsuki Bakugo who still has an unspoken rivalry with Deku, and everyone in general, but now it’s about who saves more people. Bakugo keeps a tally and texts deku, “Took down 8 villains today. What’s your number, nerd?”

prohero!Katsuki Bakugo who personally oversees every modification to his hero costume, from grenade gauntlets to lightweight boots. If the support team messes up, he’ll fix it himself, muttering, “If you can't do it right, I'll do it myself.” This causes his support team to work twice harder next time.

prohero!Katsuki Bakugo who has workaholic tendencies. He rarely takes time off, claiming, “Villains don’t go on vacation, so why should I?” His s/o and his entire agency forces him to relax. Needless to say, his s/o alone can convince him. Even then, he’s still scanning news reports for emergencies.

prohero!Katsuki Bakugo who is an emergency quirk strategist. Bakugo has a knack for coming up with split-second strategies in the middle of chaos. He’ll bark orders to other heroes, and while they’re annoyed at his tone, they follow him because he’s always right. Other heroes learned it the hard way one time when they didn't follow his 'suggestion' and ended up making the situation worse.

prohero!Katsuki Bakugo who gets tons of fan letters and gets flustered reading them. One of his fellow heroes suggested for him to buy a shredder, but you know damn well he flipped them off. He gets tons of fan mail, but he has no idea how to respond. He also did not know what to do with them until his s/o opted to help him with this problem. Sometimes he’ll scribble a quick “Thanks” with a little explosion doodle and hope it’s enough, his s/o would be the one to arrange and mail them.

prohero!Katsuki Bakugo who is devoted to his parents. Bakugo visits his parents regularly, bringing them little gifts like flowers for his mom (which she teases him about) and bunch of snacks and clothing pieces for his dad. He even helps fix things around their house during his rare free time. He makes sure his sidekicks and secretary knows when to remind him to call them during breaks.

prohero!Katsuki Bakugo who has is looked up to by other pros for his emergency evacuation drills. When Bakugo’s agency holds safety drills, his team wins every time. He calls it “real hero training” and will go all-out to make sure everyone’s prepared.

prohero!Katsuki Bakugo who was invited one time to attend a charity by ochako and it became something he does everytime. While he’s not a fan of public speaking, Bakugo attends charity events because he believes in helping beyond hero work. He’ll reluctantly auction off items like “Bakugo’s autographed gauntlet,” secretly donating extra money because “those kids need it more.”

prohero!Katsuki Bakugo who is an incredible loyal team leader. Bakugo might be tough on his team, but he’s fiercely protective of them. He is especially protective of his interns, some of them referring to him as the older brother they never had. If a villain hurts one of his sidekicks, you better know he’ll go all-out to take them down while yelling, “You don’t touch my people!”

prohero!Katsuki Bakugo who built his own agency to be one of the best heor agency headquarter there is. His agency is a sleek, well-organized base equipped with cutting-edge tech and a training ground. The office is always clean because he enforces “No slacking off!” rules, even for janitorial staff. In his hq, he made sure that there is one room dedicated for his s/o.

prohero!Katsuki Bakugo who became an unintentional role model. Despite his rough personality, students and new heroes look up to Bakugo because of his dedication and success. He doesn’t know how to handle compliments and usually responds with, “Stop wasting time and go do your damn job!”

prohero!Katsuki Bakugo who mastered using small, precise explosions for rescues—blasting through rubble without causing harm or creating paths for civilians. It’s become his trademark move, and no one does it better.

prohero!Katsuki Bakugo who's explosive personality makes him a media favorite, but he hates interviews. When forced to participate, he answers in blunt one-liners like, “Villains suck, so don’t do crime.” Although he did receive criticism at the start of hero career because of his brash attitude, but that's all.

prohero!Katsuki Bakugo who knows how to separate his personal life from his career so well that some fans were surprised when he revealed in an interview that he was already married. He proudly showed off his wedding band, telling his interviewer that he was a happy married man.

ᓚᘏᗢ @deprivedreality 2023 | all rights reserved.

[nebbi-astrii]

Background by @xpau-official

Wanted to do some interactions between characters from different creators. It feels a little strange including creators I liked from the past and present in one drawing, but I don’t hate it! It’s just.. reminiscent..?

Khai & Dev- Me!

Virux & Kable- @bunrux

Codex & Cherry- @thenoblescosplay

Reverie- @rinky-dinky-dink

Appreciation notes for these creators (feel free to skip these if you’re not them)

(Don’t wanna make these too lengthy. Also sorry, I’m not good with words-😭)

To Beau,

I’m happy to have met you when getting fixated again on Undertale AUs and I had fun developing Rev with you, even if it wasn’t much. I’m also thankful for you and others helping me make Khai into something much more than a concept, because otherwise Khai would kinda be nothing right now.

To Bun,

I’m glad I discovered you when I became fixated on Undertale AUs again recently, because Virux & Kable are really cool characters and I love em. Know that you helped kickstart my fixation again. (is this a curse or a blessing? lol)

To Tanu & Chinchi,

You guys were a big part of my childhood, a big influence for me, and helped me discover who I was as a person. I loved y’all’s cosplays and AUs! Your characters are also really unique and inspiring and I hope the project is going well if you’re still working on it! Codex’s scarf arms actually had inspired younger me to make a character with scarf arms as well, so yea tysm for being an inspiration for my younger self <3

To past me,

Hey, hope you didn’t miss leaving the fandom, because you came crawling right back after 6 years. I know you hated how bad your art was compared to some others your age, and hell even now, but at least you’ve become better at drawing, and that’s what matters. Everyone has a different art journey and sure yours may be slow, but improvement is what matters. Crazy how you got fixated again tho lmao.

If you made it this far, congrats! I went digging through my photos and.. Omg this is from 2017 😭 I had only posted this on instagram and then deleted it after leaving the UTMV fandom, so it’s been collecting dust in my photos until now.

[emchante]

Happy 1K!!! I would love it if you could write a little something for my fav Danny Ric 🥹 using some of the prompts, I was thinking of these ❛ if you want something, then you ask for it!’ ‘ Suck on it then’ and "Swallow it. All of it."

tattoo temptation | d. ricciardo

thank you anon!! your favourite is my favourite, so i loved writing this<3 i appreciate the submission, i hope you enjoy!

daniel ricciardo x fem!reader

warnings: 18+ content, light mention of thigh worship, oral (m receiving), praise, dom!daniel, swallowing.

you had been at this for what felt like hours. your fingers trace the intricate ink on daniel’s thigh, the black lines standing out stark against his tanned skin. you’re kneeling between his legs, your obsession evident as your lips brush over the edges of the design, just above where his shorts are rucked up.

“you keep staring at it like that, sweetheart, and i’ll start thinking you’re more into my tattoo than me,” daniel teases, his voice low and thick, amusement curling around the heat in his tone. his voice never fails to sen heat to your core, and you’d have him talking forever if you could.

you glance up, meeting his darkened gaze, your lips curling into a sly smirk. “maybe i am, maybe you should take the hint.”

he raises a brow, his hand cupping your chin and tilting your head back slightly. he knows you love his thighs, but you’ve been acting different tonight, he can tell your mood isn’t just because of his inked thigh. “if you want something, then you ask for it,” he says, his Aussie drawl sending shivers down your spine. it wasn’t something gentle and encourage, it felt like a disguised command.

your hand slides higher on his thigh, fingers just brushing the hard bulge beneath his boxers. “then I guess i’ll stop teasing,” you murmur, your voice dripping with mischief as you pull the waistband of his shorts down, freeing him from the constrains of his boxers.

his breath hitches as you wrap your hand around his thick length, your thumb circling the tip slowly, spreading the bead of wetness that’s already forming. you glance up again, your lips ghosting over the head as his hand makes its way in your hair, threading his fingers through the soft strands.

“don’t stop now,” he mutters, his usual cockiness tinged with desperation. you knew you were both on the same level now, instead of him being fully in control. you considered teasing even more, but you were just as desperate as he was.

you hum softly, your lips parting as you take him in, your tongue swirling around the tip before sliding lower. his thighs tense beneath your hands as you hollow your cheeks, taking him in deeper.

“fuck,” he groans, his fingers tightening in your hair, guiding your movements without forcing you onto his cock. “you look so good like this, sweetheart. you were made to be right between my legs.”

you pull back slightly, your tongue teasing along the underside of his shaft before you look up at him, eyes half-lidded. “suck on it, then,” he rasps, his voice deep and thick with need, the command sends a thrill through you.

you obey him, taking him deeper this time as your hand moves to stroke what your mouth can’t take. the weight of him on your tongue, the way he twitches in your mouth, has heat pooling low in your belly. you exhale around him as you moan against his cock, revelling in the way he shivers.

“just like that, baby,” he pants, his other hand gripping the edge of the couch as you quicken your pace. his hips lift slightly, his control slipping as his breaths grow heavier.

you feel him getting close, his grip on your hair tightening as he mutters your name like a prayer. when his release hits, he groans low and rough, holding you steady.

“swallow it. all of it,” he growls, and the raw dominance in his tone makes you clench around nothing.

you do as he says, swallowing every last drop of his salty cum before pulling back, your lips swollen, a satisfied smile playing on your face as you look up at him, fluttering your lashes in the process.

daniel’s chest rises and falls as he catches his breath, a lazy grin spreading across his face. “you’re obsessed with just my tattoos, huh?”

you wink, wiping your lips with the back of your hand. “i love everything down here, maybe it’s all just a good excuse to get on my knees.”

[peachhcs]

Samy meeting will’s teammate for the first time

another semi different iteration of samy meting some of will’s teammates when they’re in detroit for a game and she drives out to see them

au masterlist

“hiii,” the girl grins when she sees her boyfriend coming out of the locker room. the blonde quickly grins, already opening his arms to wrap her into a hug. “hi baby,” he smiles.

“sorry you guys lost, but you played well like always,” samy pecked his cheek and the boy smiled despite the disappointing loss.

“it’s okay, i’m just glad to see you for a second,” he hummed even though the time they had was not nearly enough for either of their liking. the sharks were due in winnipeg tomorrow meaning will’s bus was leaving in less than an hour.

“me too. how’s your week been?” the couple tried making the most of the now 50 minutes they had together.

“it’s been okay. busy with hockey,” will said not to complain because he’d never get sick of playing, just tired with how much they’ve been doing recently. samy nodded, “make sure you’re taking care of yourself.”

“i am, don’t worry. make sure you’re taking care of yourself too,” will poked her arm and she flushed.

“yeah, i am. don’t worry either.”

“how’s your week been now that soccer’s over?” will turned the conversation to her because he liked it a lot better when they were talking about her and not him and his things.

“it’s been a little weird, but we still have offseason stuff, so not too different. it is nice to slow down for a bit though,” the brunette grinned, leaning against the wall now. “i’m glad it’s been good for you. you deserve a break after the very successful season,” will chuckled.

“hey pup. hey hughes,” will eklund had come out of the locker room, a bright smile on his face.

“hey eklund. good to see you again,” samy offered a polite hug to the older blonde.

“you too. sorry you had to see us lose,” eklund frowned.

“it’s alright. you guys still played well,” the girl said. behind eklund came tom, jack, fabian, tyler, macklin, and henry. they caught sight of the three standing along the wall and made their way over to offer a hi to samy.

“hey little hughes,” tom greeted her in another friendly hug—his new nickname for her that everyone seemed to call her.

“oh shit, you’re hughes! pup’s girlfriend!” fabian exclaimed and the girl flushed when the other guys’ faces lit up at the revelation.

“that’d be me. it’s good to meet you all,” she grinned.

“we hear a lot about you,” henry teased a bit and eyed will. he avoided their gazes in hopes of avoiding the blush creeping up his neck.

“i’ve heard i’m the talk of the locker room sometimes,” samy raised her eyebrow.

“not in a bad way, don’t worry. we just like to poke at our rookie and figure out more about his life. it seems like you’re the one who makes him smile all the time whenever he’s looking at his phone,” toffoli teased the younger boy by roughing up his shoulder. samy watched her boyfriend’s entire face turn beet red, but she thought his blush was cute.

“well i’m glad to hear i’m making him smile that hard,” samy squeezed will’s hand.

“we heard from pup too that you just won the women’s soccer cup?” jack wondered and the girl quickly beamed. she’d never get tired of talking about her recent win.

“yeah, i did. my team and i won the ncaa championship for the first time in a few years.”

“that’s wicked cool. congrats, by the way,” jack smiled.

“thank you. oh, my roommate would want me to tell you guys this, but we loved that holiday inflatables video. best thing ever. she was laughing for hours after,” samy added which had all the guys smiling.

“ah, thank you. it got a lot of hits. we’re thinking about making rapping our day job,” fabian said and samy giggled.

“i mean, i think you guys could go far. or make another music video at least,” the boys agreed, appreciating her words. she glanced back at will who playfully shook his head.

they managed to keep her talking for at least another fifteen minutes. whenever samy got talking she talked no matter who it was. it was feature will loved and hated sometimes. he loved that she could quickly get along with any of his teammates, but it also cut short the time they had together.

he glanced at his phone again to check the time now seeing that there only 30ish minutes minutes left. as much as he loved seeing more of his teammates and girlfriend get along, will wanted a bit more time alone before he had to leave, so he eyed macklin in hopes that he’d help drag the others away.

the younger brunette took the hint fairly quickly, “hey guys, we should probably make sure we have all of our things before we head out.”

“shit, yeah, you’re right. well, it was good seeing you again,” eklund smiled, waving bye to samy. she waved to all of the players as they went back down the hallway to recheck the locker room for their things. her gaze fell back to will.

“they’re so nice,” she grinned.

“for you, yeah,” he laughed. they were never as behaved in the locker room but the blonde was grateful they didn’t say anything stupid in front of her.

“well either way, i think you have a good team. they definitely love you,” she squeezed his hand again which will reciprocated as he squeezed back.

“i agree. i like them too.”

the couple talked a bit more until will figured he needed to leave and double check he had everything before getting on the bus. the two exchanged a loving, tight hug and a sweet kiss o the lips.

“i’ll miss you,” will hummed.

“i’ll miss you too. get to winnipeg safely,” samy squeezed the boy’s biceps which made the boy flush anytime she squeezed a part of his body that weren’t his hands.

“you get back to ann arbor safely. text me, okay?” the boy made her promise and she quickly agreed.

“i promise, i will. i love you.”

“i love you. ugh, i wish we had more time,” will frowned, not wanting to let go quite yet.

“me too. fifty minutes is not enough time at all, but i’ll see you super soon, okay?”

the hockey player nodded, reluctantly letting go. samy pecked his lips one last time before walking away first because if she didn’t, will would never let her go.

[voikiraz]

— In 𐔌 𝓜y ͡꒱ eyes [ l.hs ]

Lovers . Bf!heeseung x fem!reader ⠀𝑤. Petnames, skinship, that's it i think step ? #885 M.recordings [ if this feels rushed or forced pls tell me, again this is part of @cupidhoons series ahhh, I can't believe I actually got both done, but hope you like it >< ]

Syn. Four times heeseung marked your moment as the most special and decided he wants to keep you next to him forever.

This is so silly but i think heeseung would have a photo binder full of polaroids of you, pictures of you guys on dates, his friends and family etc. And he definitely has one in his wallet too ( I'm indulging in lover ; heeseung )

𝑜𝑛𝑒

It was a random date night, but considering that you haven't had some time for yourselves in a while, it hit you differently, and you sure missed him, it was a day that you appreciated more each second the more you think about it.

Knowing that he put so much effort in taking you out every week even though you knew his days were jam packed.

“Thank you hee, I missed going out with you, I was starting to experience withdrawals” you say, twirling around the glass containing your drink while you waited for the food.

“Anything for you baby, plus you deserve it” he said, holding your hand and the night continued on, talking about your weeks and sharing each other's food (or stealing it ).

And by the end of the day, he had to pull out his polaroid camera, he genuinely had it with him all the time.

It was his way of keeping the moment with him for as long as he could.

He asked one of the waiters to take a picture of you two, and you displayed the bouquet of flowers he got you this morning, white and pure like the love he provides you.

𝑡𝑤𝑜

You were very tempted to ignore your friends and go back to sleep, why would they wake you up before sunrise just so you can enjoy the good weather?

But they drove a hard bargain the moment they told you heeseung was coming too, who were you to decline spending time with your boyfriend.

You got up and started getting ready at a speed that made your friends scoff at you at how fast you changed your mind.

As you walked around the empty streets near the river, all you could focus on was him, making you earn a few ( fake ) disappointed sighs from your friends, declaring that they hate couples ( even though they're your biggest supporters ).

The group stopped somewhere to decide where they should have breakfast before moving any further, forgetting the two love birds somewhere on the other side of the road.

And they stood there, sickeningly staring at each other as if they weren't capable of ever looking away.

And when heeseung decided that you look way too pretty to not snap a picture, he pulled out his camera, and so did jake, he thought this was the perfect moment to capture your intense love for each other.

“You're so gorgeous, my love” Jake heard heeseungs voice mumble those few words out and he wished he minded his own business.

“Okay enough please, never do that infront of us again” Jake complained in a whiney voice, brushing you off and walking further.

𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑒𝑒

On a warm night, when your boyfriend decided that it's the perfect weather for a sleepover and some hot chocolate, the last thing you expected to do is let said boyfriend drag you out in the cold.

“Y/n come on there's shooting stars outside.” He said almost in a whiny voice, wearing his heavy jacket and waiting for you by the door.

You were contemplating, did you really want to get out from under the comfortable blankets to go see shooting stars?

Well, If he was asking so nicely, how cruel would you be if you denied him such a request?

“Fine, give me a second.” You said, running up the stairs to go get your jacket then beelining towards where he stood once more.

He threw a giddy smile on his face and a light kiss on your cheeks, one that appears with a chuu sound paired with it, making you giggle.

He pulled your wrist and in a second you were outside, enjoying the snow and the shooting stars, the cold breeze contrasting the warm toned living room that you were buried in a second before.

“Omg we should take a picture, come here” he pulled you close to him, holding the camera up and hiding his face in the warmth of his jacket.

‘Click’

“It's so pretty,” he said in awe, then looked at you in a swift motion “not as pretty as you though.” He paired his flirty line with a wink.

𝑓𝑜𝑢𝑟

It was finally new years night, and you were excitedly waiting for the countdown to start, waiting for heeseung to claim you as his new years kiss.

And he delivered with no hesitation, making it feel like it'll never be the last time.

He gave you the world and more. And you were forever grateful for him, the way you could picture yourself living with him for as long as you'll breathe. Safe like you've never been before.

You love Lee Heeseung, and you dont remember what it feels like not to.

“Pose for the camera love birds,” you heard Giselle call for you two and you happily obliged, taking a few pictures on her phone, ( that she'll probably never send to you ).

But of course, you had to take your special polaroid picture with the person you'll want to engrave in your ribs forever.

© voikiraz 2O24