#hope all of you have been well recently xo

[belovedspector]

.

[jinkiezzsstuff]

Hello dear!! I have a request for the Radio Demon

Do you mind writing sub!Alastor? Imagine your in lobby of the hotel with your beloved Alastor (on his lap) and you decide to do some frisky cockwarming with him.. well in the beginning he has control but then maybe Charlie or Lucifer u walks in.. you decide to tease him until he can't take it anymore and ends up having to cover his moans as he gums in you..

Welp! That's my request🎀 you can delete this ofc but do as you will ~

from windigo anon🦌

i’m drooling, frothing at the mouth, going insane, i love this idea!!! eeeee thank you so much i hope this was good enough i struggled a bit with cockwarming so i hope i did well

Warnings: 18+ SMUT, cockwarming, SUB!Alastor/DOM!Reader, creampie, possible breeding kink, exhibitionism, Lucifer knows what you’re doing, he’s the devil, and you use him to tease Al, jealous lucifer, lucifer is a cuck lowkey, reader wears a dress but no gendered terms or anything, maybe threesome elements?, OOC ALASTOR, NOT proof read, LMK what i missed! xo

word count: 1.9K

You and Alastor have been a thing for a very long time, and throughout the years he’d become rather comfortable with sexual intimacy. Alastor always held the reigns no matter where in life he was, that is excluding the bedroom. Alastor had made a foolish deal with you long ago, he wanted your soul and you were a fairly powerful demon at the time so there was a sit down conversation about such endeavours. You agreed to sell your soul and tie yourself to him, complete all tasks he needed done, so long as he was your bitch. Well, that wording wasn’t used back then, nor was there any sexual innuendos in the mix.

Before it simply meant he couldn’t try to place fear into you, he always had to speak truthfully when it came to you, and if plan involved you, essentially to the outside world he was allowed to look like the boss but behind closed doors he wasn’t allowed to pull that stunt. You two ended up getting along quite nicely as the years went by, your magic side of the deal made it so if he broke his promises, the deal would be off and more then likely fatal to the both of you, so it wasn’t too surprising things went well.

What was surprising was the relationship you developed, Alastor was unable to lie to you about most things due to your deal and most of the time you approached him as a peer lacking judgement. Even when you disagreed with his plans you still still gave your genuine advice and thoughts which made him trust you. Slowly through this weird bond of trust and leaning on each other, Alastor developed romantic feelings and thank god you felt them back.

Alastor was slow to warm up to affections, which meant you normally took over, letting him keep his poise and smile you’d always make the first move, asking for consent to push further whether it was a simple hug, kiss, or a little more frisky. Eventually though, things got to the point they’re at now, where Alastor craves you like his lungs crave air. He is ravenous for your touch, your kiss, your head surrounding his cock. It’s a tough couple months during mating season because he begs and begs for you like a starved man.

Because of his eagerness for you, and to please you, he’s very kindly broadened his horizons leading to absolutely tasteful trying of kinks. Recently the two of you have been planted at the hotel, Alastor called upon you the day he got there, and privately when alone explained his plans with the Devils child, your man had always been an ambitious one, but you couldn’t say no to him. So of course you stood alongside his plans, and now you’re not only dealing with the Devils child, but the devil himself.

Lucifer moved himself in after the big ol’ brawl, and thankfully things have gone somewhat smoothly between Alastor and Lucifer, as in they haven’t killed each other yet, but Lucifer made it his absolute mission to try and “steal you away,” like he did with Adam. Obviously you were committed to Alastor, but your mind would wander to sinful places about all the ways you could show Lucifer how much you loved you deer man. Oh and you just knew how.

Alastor sat in the lobby, looking through a newspaper as he sipped his coffee, music humming softly in the background. The whole lobby was vacant, even Husk was gone for the moment, you made sure of it. Walking into the lobby from the kitchen, your dress flowing around your legs, you walked up to Alastor with a warm smile on your face. “What’re you up to my dear?” You ask softly, making him hum eyes shifting from his newspaper to you, dragging up your form. “Just a little bit of reading, nothing much my doe,” Alastor seemed sleepy almost in the state he was in, his voice was soft and lacking his usual enthusiasm, however it wasn’t a state you were unfamiliar with knowing him for so long.

Slowly you lowered yourself sideways onto his lap, he complied with your actions wordlessly by whisking his newspaper away with his magic, allowing you to scootch yourself right up on him. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you played with the short hairs at the base, causing him to visibly shiver. Alastor smiled down at you softly, watching you tenderly. “I feel,” You whispered with a pause, mimicking somebody taking a thoughtful breath. “Needy.” You breathe out with a cheesy smile plastered on your face. Alastor jolts a bit still entirely not used to forward language such as that, but he didn’t say anything simply blinked at you.

“I think i’m gonna lift this dress up, and your gonna unbuckle these pants, and i’m gonna seat myself nice n comfy on ya,” You purred hands messaging all around his chest as you spoke, trailing down to the button of his slacks and back up to his shoulders. You felt him twitch against his pants, the blood obviously was already flowing to his groin. “Dear we’re in public.” Try as he may, Alastors words were wobbly and his smile looked more like a grimace.

“No baby, we’re in private, in our new home, at the hotel, where no one can see.” You cooed condescendingly, pulling your hands away to hike up your dress. Alastor dared to looked down as you bunched your dress at your hips. Alastor closed his eyes, head falling back at the sight of you bare, nothing but your dress skirt keeping you covered. Turning yourself around, you put your back to him, grinding yourself down on him teasingly.

“Y’know what to do, don’t make me say it dear.” Your voice was stern compared to the tone you held before, Alastor blew out air at your words, head still thrown back at rest on the back of the sofa. Finally he brought his hands from the resting position next to him, and freed himself from his slacks and boxers. You sighed happily as you slowly inched your way down on him, Alastors hands gripped your hips harshly, and his legs kicked out and spasmed every inch you took down.

Once buttoned out, you fixed your gown to flow around you, and backed yourself up against his chest, head rested on his shoulder. Brining his head up to gaze down at you, Alastor gave you a questioning look, sweat already gathering on his forehead. “Dear please-” Alastors words got caught off by a boisterous call, and the front door swinging open. Fixing his posture, Alastor snapped into position, positioning his legs up right feet on the floor, straightening his back, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you up with him.

“Hellloooo everybody! Just had an amazing meeting, everything went in my favour, as always.” Lucifer waltzed in swinging his cane. He briefly paused scanning the room to see only you two sitting stiffly. You were more relaxed, eyes littled with an easygoing smile, Alastor however was tense; his smile was tight and unfriendly, with his eye twitching. “Well hello there you two, lovely to see you here.” Lucifer smiled happily plopping himself on the couch next to you, making you two shake.

The small bit of motion from Lucifer throwing himself down, made you clench, your arousal leaking down Alastors cock and onto his pants. Clearing his throat to suppress a moan, Alastor then gave a tiny ‘hello’ to the devil. Turning your body more toward the devil, you made sure to pick yourself up off Alastor a bit, and lower yourself back down, making him sink his nails into you.

Wrapping one arm around Alastors neck, you leaned sideways against him, facing Lucifer, your skirt successfully obstructing the entire view of your sin. “Do tell Luce.” You urge pretending to care, Lucifer caught on to the strange behaviour immediately however he wasn’t entirely sure what to make of it yet, so he pushed on shrugging and explaining his meeting. You coyly moaned occasionally throughout his explanations playing it off as “oh”s and “ah”s to his story rather than Alastors twitching cock.

Leaning forward Alastor stuck his blushing face in your hair, breathing heavily into it. “Is he doing okay?” Lucifer asked suddenly, quirking a brow at Alastor. Around your waist Alastors arms tightened, and his legs once again spread and splayed out a bit allowing him more space. Alastor felt pitiful, but in a way he loved it, only you had this power and nobody else, he could live with that. Alastor was too blitzed out to realise he’d subtly humped up into you, needing some sort of release. Playing with Alastors hair, you shrugged your shoulders at the devil, your poise still in tacked.

“Yes, I do believe he’s a little sickly.” Lucifer noticed the twitch in Alastors hips now, his eyes growing in size every so slightly. “Yknow i just want to stay something Lucifer,” You begin to say, eyeing Al from your peripheral, seeing his eyes closed. “I really think we ought to stop with the battle, Alastor treats me very well, very good,” You purr fixing your posture, making Alastor groan into your hair.

“I think it’s time to stop with the whole ‘i could take your partner’ shtick.” You say sharply, with finality, Lucifers eyes at this point were flicking back and forth between the two of you, a prominent blush on his face. You grinned cheekily once again and shifted again trying to fix yourself to face forward again, as you did so you heard Lucifer take a breath to speak, but it got interrupted by a guttural groan from Alastor.

Without warning Alastors legs flexed his hips jerking involuntarily up against you, it caught you off guard and made you gasp and moan. It didn’t stop after one thrust, Alastor sunk his teeth into your shoulder jerking his hips up into you, panting and groaning without care. With one forceful thrust and growl, you whined feeling him force himself against you fully, cumming far up into you, stealing your breath. Lucifer watched bug eyed and taken aback, he never saw Alastor so pleasured, now he felt a ping of jealousy; before this moment he wanted to steal you away to show you how much better he can fuck you compared to Alastor, now he wanted you to fuck him and make him feel the way Alastor felt now.

Alastors form grew demonic, stretching and contorting, you still in his lap. You didn’t move an inch as he contorted, not afraid of Alastor what so ever. Alastors neck snapped inhumanely to Lucifer. “You are to never speak of this again.” Alastors voice didn’t sound like his own when he spoke, and whether or not Lucifer was truly scared didn’t matter as he fumbled, stuttered and then stumbled off covering his eyes and apologising. With the snap of his fingers, Alastor magicked the two of you in the safety of his radio tower, where no one dared to enter unwelcomed. “Dear, that was unacceptable. But amusing, you get away with this little fiasco only because it was Lucifer you did it in front of.”

Alastor growled at you demonic form on display, smile stretched, he had your cheeks tightly pinched in between his nails. Shrugging your shoulders, you tiptoed up to give his teeth a coy kiss. “Whatever maybe now he’ll leave us alone.”

[ghost-proofbaby]

It's summer for you, winter for me. Warm me up with strawberry fluff! As always, my muse, your muse, the one and only, Eddie.

Midsummer's night, because I don't have a lot to inspire you with. I'm thinking something cute but weird? Maybe some human body softness where Eddie is a bit of a freak and we love him for it. And we're told our bodies are lovely, even when they're doing weird shit.

I lalalove youuuuu. xo Rhi

RHI!!!! <3 i adore you. thank you for this prompt - i had far too many ideas for it, but ended up on settling for this one, which coincidentally feels like the most subtle of them all? either way, it definitely turned out being the softest. give me an eddie munson who just wants to sniff me like a dog. this definitely got a bit long but i hope you enjoy, my dear <3

the smell of you

warnings: weirdos in love? idk. i have a skewed sense of what is actually weird i think. mentions of death and coffins jokingly. eddie 'manhandles' reader sort of. not edited.

wc: 2.2k+

come enjoy a sweet summer treat with me <3

“Eddie?”

The entire apartment is quiet – too quiet – as you drop your keys into the old crystal bowl on the counter. The clink resonates through the air, louder than the soft murmur of the stereo static you can hear from down the hall. 

“You dead?” you call out again, slipping off your running shoes and tossing down your headphones onto the counter as well now, “Do I need to call the coroner?” 

Your tone is lilted, teasing with airiness as you continue to wander deeper into the apartment and head straight for the room you know Eddie has to be in. Like the waves pulled by the moon, there’s an incessant string tied around one end of your soul that connects you to his, and you follow it all the way down the hallway. The bedroom door is wide open, and you can hear his mumbled yell of a response without clarity before you even cross the threshold. 

You wouldn’t have even needed him to verbally respond to find him in this tiny apartment. You two could get separated on the streets of a bustling city, of a buzzing New York sidewalk, and you still wouldn’t properly lose him. It’s more than just soul ties and his gravity that keeps you pulled to him. 

Something unspoken. Something homely. 

“Sorry, what was that?” you hum as you spy him face-down in the bed, pillow muting him by the mouthful, “Say it one more time, and this time not into the pillow.” 

When he finally properly turns over, he’s a vision. Sleep lines folded into his skin and a bit of drool in the corner of his mouth, eyes squinting in irritation not at you but the sunlight flooding in through the bedroom window. Messy hair, messy shirt, messy everything. A kind of mess you just want to collapse into currently, curling up in all that he is from the day’s exhaustion. 

He’d mentioned wanting to take a nap before you’d left for the gym. Something about the summer heat draining him, trailing off as he’d rambled about how he’d probably thrive as a vampire. 

“I said,” he huffs, sitting up, the frizz of his hair becoming a makeshift halo, “If you call the coroner, request the comfiest coffin possible.”

“Why do you need a comfy coffin if you’re already dead?” 

“You dare deny me of being buried in tempurpedic memory foam? In my hour of need?” 

You roll your eyes as you huff out a little laugh, forcing yourself to turn away from him long enough to strip out of your socks. But just as you reach down for the pieces of clothing, you catch sight of the source of that stereo static flooding the room. 

Your shared record player, spinning a blood red pressing of one of your more recent vinyl purchases. The album has been played through, but the player no longer had an automatic stop mechanism, probably from years of use. 

The center of the record is probably scratched, and Eddie knows it, from how sheepish he looks when you glance over your shoulder at him. 

“Speaking of death,” you walk over quickly, purposefully, before carefully lifting the needle and cutting the static finally, “Care to explain why you’re burning scratches into my Momento Mori vinyl?” 

“I’m sorry,” he quickly apologizes, nearly flinging himself off the bed as he scooches quickly to the end, clearly fully awake now, “I put it on and thought I’d just lay down for a quick second, but then the bed was so comfy, and I thought it wouldn’t hurt to take a quick nap, and then…” he trails off, looking up at you through his lashes with big eyes already pleading for forgiveness, “I’ll buy you a new one. Swear it.” 

It’s impossible to be mad at him when he’s looking like this, inhumanely soft and easily forgiven, “You’re lucky you’re cute, or you really would be dead.” 

He doesn’t respond with words, but instead the outstretch of his hands, fingers flexing as he beckons to you. The needle rests on its perch, the vinyl left behind to gather dust for a few extra moments, as you go straight to him. 

When his palms slip beneath your old t-shirt and meet your skin, they’re pleasantly warm. 

“You were right,” you admit as his knees spread, delegating even more room for you to stand in front of him as your hand wanders to cradle the side of his face, fingers tangling in sweaty curls from his rest. Your thumb mimics his on your own skin instinctively, tracing a large arch right up over his cheekbone, “It’s hot as balls outside.” 

“Told you so,” he murmurs, smiling softly in satisfaction as he leans lazily into your touch. 

“You did,” you agree quietly, half-entranced by his relaxed face, no sight of pride in the room currently. 

He resembles a cat as he continues to preen under your gentle hand, and you almost expect him to start purring right before you find the strength to pull away, removing his hands from where they'd wandered to your lower back. 

One swipe of his finger along your sweaty spine, and you’d remembered what your original intentions had been immediately upon getting home. 

“Wai- Where are you going?” he’s seemingly brought back down to Earth the moment he loses the pattern your thumb had been tracing, the press of your fingertips into his scalp. When he reaches back out to latch onto you again, you take a step back, “Get back here-”

“I need to shower,” you laugh, shaking your head and smacking his hands away as he continues to barter, “I’m all sweaty and smelly, let me go clean up and then we can nap togeth-” 

“You can shower after we nap,” he nearly whines, finally catching your shirt between his fingers and tugging, uncaring for if he stretches the fabric. A small price to pay to have you close to him, “C’mon, sweetheart. I know you’re just as exhausted as I am.” 

You swear you meant to take another step backwards, but somehow, you end up back between his knees, “Did you not hear me, Munson? I stink.”

“Good.” 

He doesn’t give you any time to react – in an instant, he’s throwing his face forward, burying it against your stomach as you let out a gasp and immediately try to pry him away with far too gentle of hands in his hair. 

“Eddie!”

If it were anyone else, you’d probably be mortified. But Eddie just takes a dramatic deep breath in, nose buried just shy of your belly button, and when his shoulders start to shake with muted laughter, you can’t stop the smile from breaking. Your fingers are still twisted in his hair, still pulling back in an attempt to get him away from you, but he’s resilient. 

And all your faux resistance is weak in comparison. Soon enough, you’re back to melting into him. 

Only once you’re relaxed once more, no sign of trying to pull away again any time soon as his hands once more evade the space beneath your shirt to wander up and down your sticky skin without a care in the world, does he lift his face away from you long enough to breathe and speak, “I’ll have you know – I love your stink.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m serious.” 

“You’re an idiot.” 

“I’m your idiot.” 

The game of banter is cut short when he goes back to pressing his nose into your clothes that surely can’t smell good. No amount of deodorant or perfume could erase that underlying stench of sweat. Hell, the shirt is still a bit moist from it all: from the walk to the gym, from your workout itself, from the walk home. It’d been through the ringer, and you’re back to tugging him away from you. 

“I refuse to believe you like how gross I smell right now,” you reinforce, eyes darting towards the bathroom connected to your master bedroom, “I promise I’ll be quick with the shower.” 

“Baby,” he fights back, wrapping his arms around you securely, no intention of losing this battle, “You remember that time we went to the fair, and you were complaining about how you were sweating, so I tried to lick your face?” 

Your nose scrunches quickly at the memory, “I do, unfortunately.”

“You really think I’d be willing to lick the sweat off your body but be afraid of you smelling a little bad while we cuddle?” his shoulders drop as he looks up at you, head tilted, almost as if amused with the conversation, “What kind of man do you take me for?” 

“The kind that gets off on annoying me.” 

His jaw drops, putting on a fake look of offense before he dramatically throws himself back onto the bed, laying flat as he makes a fist to mimic stabbing his chest, “You wound me.”

You’ve heard those words a thousand times in a hundred different ridiculous voices. You’ve seen this scene enough to have it mesmerized at this point, down to the over-exaggerated pout of his lips and the lingering of the fist against his sternum. 

You never grow tired of it. You never will. 

“Need me to kiss it better?” you joke as you prop a knee up on the bed, following the same script as always. 

And he hits his queue perfectly when he lifts his head eagerly at the expected response, wiggling his brows a bit. “Absolutely. Doctor’s orders, in fact.” 

“Great,” you see an opportunity, and take it, “I’ll get right to it, after my showe-” 

You don’t even get the final syllable of the word off your tongue before he’s clenching his thighs around your own, knees pressing hard before he wraps his legs the rest of the way around your waist to pull you in. A squeak of surprise leaves your lips as you begin to fall forward, but Eddie is quick to break the fall with ease. Catching you with his eager hands, maneuvering for you to half drop to the mattress while some of you still lands atop of him. 

He has you right where he wants you, turning his head to be face to face with you, noses nearly brushing, “Unfortunately, the doc said you have to kiss it better now, or else you’ll be comfy coffin shopping.” 

“A fatal wound?” you gasp, nearly mocking him. It doesn’t offend him – if anything, his boyish grin only grows wider, “First, I’m smelly-”

“Again, I like when you’re smelly.”

“-And then I inflict a fatal wound upon my lover? Oh, how dare I.”

Slowly, all your insecurity of how you currently smell is simply fading. The entire ordeal has become an art of childlike, whimsical jokes – and Eddie is an artist. A professional at the dance, locked and loaded with his incomparable skill set equipped for disarming you this way. The ability to make someone feel loved, imperfections and weirdness aside. 

He likes you, even when you claim you don’t smell your best. And you like him, even when his hair is tangled beyond recognition and one of his socks is half-hanging off his foot from a nap.

You like him when he’s embarrassing you in public, tongue chasing after you with the threat of licking your sweat away, and he likes you when all you can do in response is a weak palm to his chest (that isn’t even making an effort to push him away) as you giggle relentlessly. 

You like each other on the good days, the bad days, the weird days. 

Disarmed entirely, you don’t even notice when his face conveniently slots itself far too close to your armpit as you two scooch further up into the bed. You’re more occupied with the way your legs tangle up, toeing each other’s socks off properly as he slings a heavy arm across your torso. 

“We’re gonna have to wash the sheets,” you mumble, exhaustion catching up as the two of you finally settle. 

He hums absentmindedly, nuzzling into your skin a bit further as he makes himself comfortable. “And wash away your sweet, sweet stink? I don’t think so, sweetheart.” 

“Oh, fuck off,” you laugh, unbothered as your fingers start to trail up and down his back over the t-shirt, smoothing out wrinkles along the way, “I’m serious. We need to change them soon anyways, I think I got crumbs in the bed the other night with those crackers.” 

“Bury me in the crumbs of all your midnight snacks,” he almost slurs, clearly drifting back off. 

You snort in response, relaxing and letting your own eyes shut. Matching all your deep breaths with his own, a million different last words crossing your mind to whisper to the boy you’re sure is once again asleep. 

I love you.

I adore you. 

I would like to spend the rest of my life with you, if you’ll have me. 

And maybe some of those unspoken thoughts slip out without you realizing, because he squeezes you just a little bit tighter, presses his face just a little bit deeper into your skin as his scruff tickles you. 

The only actual thought you can know for certain that you say, though, is, “Do you think they actually make coffins with memory foam inside?” 

To your surprise, even despite the almost-snores that had been escaping him, he answers in a heartbeat. 

“Oh, definitely. We’ll order two.”

[wonuwrites]

ot13 Seventeen's Espresso Song Reaction

Anyone else also OBSESSED with Sabrina Carpenter's "Espresso?" Literally so cunty and song of the summer <3 I thought this would be fun to write because I've been writing a lot of angst lately. I hope you enjoy. xo - @wonuwrites

Warning: Some are more suggestive than others: Wonwoo, Dino, Joshua, Woozi, and Mingyu's got pretty sexual especially so MDNI xo, Cursing as usually bc that's the person I am lmao.

A/N: Just like my 'We Can't Be Friends' reactions, I will be writing the scenarios x members from when lyrics come in. Hope that makes sense :)

♡ DK: "Now he's thinkin' 'bout me, every night oh, Is it that sweet? I guess so."

Seokmin in general is so boyfriend coded but not even he predicted how down bad he got because of you. You never left his mind especially after your first kiss. You were his first and last thought every day. He vowed that he would do everything in his power to not fuck up anything with you. One evening while you were getting ready for bed your phone lit up and you saw your lovely boyfriends face. You couldn't help but giggle before picking up. "Hello Jagi~" "Hello Beautiful, I was just thinking about you." "Right before bed? That's so dirty, Seokminnie." This made him get flustered because he was trying to be cute but now he was horny and ahhhhh. You both then continued to try to out flirt the other which ended up having both of you giggly and blushed messes.

♡ Wonwoo: "Move it up, down, left, right, oh. Switch it up like like Nintendo."

Normally gaming sessions with Wonwoo would be fairly PG however tonight it got a bit more intense. There was something about the way his fingers were fingering his xbox controller's joystick you so aroused. You tried to hide how turned on you were getting but Wonwoo knew you all too well which is why he decided to tease you a little bit. He bit his lip and would groan when the game got a little "too difficult" and you swore you were about to come undone based off his fingers, his groans, his face, him, everything. After a bit it started to get a bit too much so you scooted closer to him and snuggled into him before giving a kiss to the base of his neck. He would chuckle before looking down at you. "Yes?" "Mmm, You know I love gaming with you but I kinda wanna play with a different kind of joystick now." "Say less," he would say before throwing the xbox controller to the side and pulling you into a kiss. It was going to be a fun night.

♡ Hoshi: "And I got this one boy, and he won't stop calling. When they act this way, I know I got them."

Your phone buzzed for what seemed like the fifth time that day but you couldn't help but smirk. Soonyoung and you had recently started talking about a week prior and last night you both had your first kiss and suddenly he just craved your lips and you. Some might find the clinginess to be a bit cringey but truth be told, you were ALSO craving him. The way his lips tasted last night was enough to get you love drunk and obsessed. When he admitted to you that he couldn't help but think about the kiss you both shared you wanted to do a little dance because you knew he felt the same way. "Hello?" You said after answering the phone. You could hear him smile as he said his greeting as well. "(Y/N), I know I just called a while ago but I was just wondering if you wanted to, I don't know hang out tonight after practice?" This made you giggle before agreeing to hang out. After you both hung up he did a cheesy ass fist pump which gave Minghao and Seungkwan second hand embarrassment. They were happy for their friend but oh my god.

♡ Dino: "Too bad your ex don't do it for ya."

Chan was not someone to compare people. Especially when it came to his relationships. However, when he noticed that you would do certain things his ex wouldn't do he would become speechless. Like for instance, when he had a horrible day and you offered to help him relax by giving him a massage or hell a blowjob he would stare at you as if you just told him you stole Saturn for him. His ex would usually just say "that sucks, Channie" but you were offering to do things for him? Oh my god. When he saw you start putting your hair into a makeshift ponytail while getting on your knees he swore he fell in love all over again. He would lean down and kiss your lips before letting you undo his jeans and let Chan Jr come out to play. (lmfaooo i'm so sorry)

♡ Minghao: "Walked in and dream came trued it for ya."

When Minghao would think about his future, he always wanted someone to be understanding, loving, and caring. When you came along you matched all those things and he was absolutely shocked. You were his dream come true and on nights like these where you were both sat at your favorite cafe in the corner he couldn't help but be so thankful that his He would kiss your knuckles and just stare at you with such love in his eyes. You would blush at his loving glare and he would be like "why why why?" He would just tease you a bit which would make you even more flustered. This would make him smile and giggle which would cause you to giggle as well. After leaving the cafe, he would have your hand in his and would casually be swinging it as you both were talking about random topics. When you got to the car, he pulled you in and pressed a kiss to your lips before whispering a "thank you" to you.

♡ Joshua: "Soft skin and I perfumed it for ya."

You just had gotten out of the shower and you had a million and three butterflies storming your stomach. You and Jisoo had made plans to have a sleepover after a long time and you didn't want to mess anything up. You decided to spray his favorite perfume of your on you with matching lotion. As you were finishing up getting ready you heard your front door open. "Baby, I'm home." you heard your handsome as hell boyfriend call out. This made you smile wide as you made your way out of the bathroom and saw he had a bouquet of flowers for you. Just that gesture made you want to jump his bones. He smiled at you and came over and gave you a hug and a kiss. He groaned in the kiss as he could smell how good you smelled. He looked down at you and it gave you butterflies. "You feel so soft." He whispered which made you feel giggle. "Thanks, I was in the middle of lotioning up." "oh?" "yeah, I couldn't reach one place though, can you help me?" He smirked as he led you to your room which made both of you break out into giggles.

(I had writers block for Joshua's :'(, I will rewrite it one day. ~)

♡ Vernon: "I know I Mountain Dew it for ya."

It was one of those days where both Hansol and you were trying to annoy the other but in a sexy way. Today's weapon? Really awful puns or pick up lines. The rules were easy, 1. You couldn't laugh at what the other person said, however you could laugh at your own pun. 2. You can't reuse the same pun. 3. You had 30 seconds to make the pun 3. You laugh, cringe, or take too long you strip an item of clothing. You both thought this was fun and would make a competition out of it. Today you were both not doing too well and were both down to your underwear. You both were a bit turned on but neither of you wanted to fold or lose that quickly. It was your turn and you honestly were struggling to think of anything. You had about 10 seconds left when you noticed an empty Mountain Dew bottle on the dresser. You giggled before pointing at it and shouting, "Just call me a soda pop because I really want to mountain dew it for ya." This made Hansol snort and cover his face. You put both your arms in the air to cheer your victory as Hansol took off his briefs and showed his member. "Well soda pop, I think it's time to mountain dew it." He didn't have to tell you twice.

♡ Seungkwan: "That morning coffee I brewed it for ya."

Acts of service was one of your main love languages. When Seungkwan stayed over one night, you decided to wake up a little earlier and made him an Iced Americano. You decided to brew a medium espresso and asked your Alexa to play Sabrina's new song "Espresso." You were so caught up in the song you didn't even notice him staring at you dancing and singing along to the song. He stared at you with admiration as you danced to your own choreography that was sliiiiightly off beat but he'd never tell you that. He loved how in your element you were. When you turned around while spinning you almost died of embarrassment which made him put a hand to his mouth to try to stop his laugh. "You are precious," he would whisper as you continued to die on the floor lmaooo.

♡ Woozi: "One touch and I brand newed it for ya."

Jihoon is very particular with who he is touchy with. Physical touch is not one of his favorite things in the world. However, that partially changed once you entered his life. Each touch whether sexual or casual made him feel like he was on fire and was just pure ecstacy when he was with you. One night, he was a bit more touchy than normal which made you raise an eyebrow. Normally it was you who would initiate any type of physical touch but this time it was a happy surprise. You kissed his nose while giggling before questioning if he wanted anything. The question made him blush and hide into the crook of your neck before admitting, "Can you touch me back? I need your hands." You smirked before wrapping your arms around him. "where do you need me, baby?" "Anywhere, I'm all yours."

♡ Jeonghan: "Say you can't sleep, baby I know, That's that me espresso."

Anyone who knows Jeonghan knows this man loves sleep. If he could he would sleep forever. Sleep is just so nice and he loves it so fucking much. That's why he along with everyone was shocked when you came along and he was a lot more alert and was just so addicted to you. He would playfully deny being as whipped when you were not around but when you were around and people would tease him he would just giggle nervously which would make you blush. Never in a thousand years would you think that you, (Y/F/N), would have this kind of effect on a man. Especially a man like Jeonghan. One night he was at your front door kissing you after a successful date. He kept smiling into the kisses which made you giggle. "I could do this forever," he would whisper which would make you giggle even more. "We need to go to sleep, baby," you would try before he kissed you again which would make both of you giggle. "I can't sleep when your lips taste this good though," he would tease before kissing you again. You pulled away before teasingly quoting Sabrina by saying "that's that me espresso." He would just laugh before pulling you back in again before saying, "you have no idea."

♡ Jun: "Oh, he looks so cute wrapped around my finger."

The way you had Jun wrapped around your finger made his own members assume you did witchcraft. You were both so whipped for each other but he was a bit more obvious about it. If you needed a drink, he would be like "say less," and get up and get you your beverage of choice. If any of his members teased him, he'd just be like "I don't see you dating anyone," which would make everyone crack up and Jeonghan applauding him. You honestly loved the fact he loved you how he did. You found him so cute. When you told him that he would just giggle and blush which would make you fall for him even harder. It made you want to prove to him that the feelings he felt for you were also mutual. Which trust me, he knew. <3

♡ S. Coups: "My twisted humor make him laugh so often."

Due to the taboo that unfortunately plagues South Korea still with idols dating, you and Seungcheol had to play it cool if you were ever on variety shows together. Normally it was okay, however today everything you did just made him laugh and vise versa. To onlookers, it looked like you both were mutual friends because of the idol world but to both of your groups, they were worried that one of you would fuck up and belly flop into a scandal. When one of the MC's jokingly made a comment about Seungcheol acting whipped toward you, you would quip, "it won't last long. Don't worry." which would make everyone around you laugh. Seungcheol knew you were attempting to be self deprecating but regardless, off this variety show he was going to prove how long he was planning on staying.

♡ Mingyu: "My honey bee, come and get this pollen."

It only took one look for Mingyu to know what you wanted. He would be sitting at the table on a facetime call with one of the members and you would walk out into the hallway and stare at him. He would look up and smile at you before realizing you were wearing a fairly skimpy robe and raising an eyebrow. You would wink before walking back into your shared room. You would hear him curse before saying goodbye to whoever and literally run down the hall to the room. He'd practically tackle you because he was so excited to make love to his baby.

PS this took so long for me to write bc I kept dancing in my chair to the song instead of writing. I'm sorry to my besties who been waiting LOL I will edit tomorrow when I feel better about myself <3

[lookedlikethebins]

i'll say it twice

Finally! The long awaited Valentine's Day producer george x TA matty oneshot! I'm so sorry for taking as long as I did. Thank you for being patient AND a big thank you to the anon that inspired this fic with the prompt about matty coming to a club/one of george's dj gigs! [set ~6 months since meeting each other] ~5.8k words xo side note: i know nothing about being a DJ but a lot about cyclical anxiety and epic poems so i compensated xo

George had been semi-confident—and a bit overprepared—in his upcoming set, until Matty showed George the readings he’d suggested for the next week of class: Lover’s Discourse. The date of his set hadn’t registered until that moment, sitting with his arm around Matty and feeling embarrassed by his own obliviousness.

Valentine’s Day. Of course, the club wasn’t just holding an event to sell more drinks on a cold, mid-February Friday night; they were hoping to max their margins for the first quarter. For every one patron, there would undoubtedly be another—their date. George included.

The set had to be a bit beyond perfect.

For the next two weeks, each time Matty stopped by after his classes and office hours, George had been closed up in his studio. He would've been there most of the day, starting early in the morning (right after Matty left, if he’d stayed the night) and blowing past every mental stopping point in favor of fixing just this one last thing.

After Matty was left waiting outside for the third time, knocking and trying to ring George—phone on silent and face down on his desk—George gave him the spare key. Each time, Matty let himself in with a loud shout, letting the door slam shut; they’d learned George startled easily when he was working. When he was worried.

While Matty shouldered off his bag—as well as coat, scarf, sweater, and unbuttoned and rolled his cuffs—George would unplug his headphones and continue his work out loud. Matty often settled onto the loveseat beside George’s desk and leaned forward to best see George’s screens without hovering over his shoulder. Despite sometimes getting up to dance, Matty would never grow (outwardly) irritated when George would have to stop and adjust, redo, or take note of an idea for later. The only time Matty spoke during George’s work was to exclaim that a certain part of a song was his fucking favorite.

Most times, Matty’s excitable commentary was the reason George had to stop and make slight changes.

It would be Matty’s first time coming to see George work. Matty had asked if he could before—about other gigs and recent shows George was playing with the boys too—but George struggled to say yes. And thankfully Matty never pushed back or took offense when George stumbled over his answer. Granted, George had taken Matty to his label’s holiday party—and he’d been a hit—but his club set wasn’t for a closed group. There would be a room packed with people looking for the smallest pinhole in George’s quiet (misunderstood to be “stoic”) exterior, hoping to peep in on his private life.

But, even with all that fear and discomfort with the unfamiliar, it truly was sort of time for it, wasn’t it?

---

“Oh, fuck,” Matty said with a burst of laughter that seemed to surprise even him. “it’s loud.”

They had entered the club through the back entrance meant for employees. George made sure to pull around to the parking lot purposefully obscured by bins and out-of-place planted shrubs. They used the side streets and alleys of nearby buildings to get in without being seen by the group of patrons lined up outside, waiting to get in.

While George had been getting his bag out of the car, Matty stood by the hood, tapping his foot to the muffled beat sneaking through the club’s opening doors and sparse windows. But now, inside and standing on the farthest edge of the dance floor, Matty didn’t need to move his feet to the music; the floor was nearly moving for him.

It was what George loved the most: how the room, the physical space, came alive when music was loud—almost too loud. The air felt like it was breathing on its own from the shear pulse of the speakers.

It terrified George to think Matty might not like that feeling. The encasement of music. The ever-shrinking proximity to other people, while verbal communication became impossible and almost moot. All George ever had in those moments was the same unavoidable and inarguable beat moving him to keep time with the other bodies around him. That feeling of sharing the same heartbeat. He could live in the same suspended moment with someone, just a few minutes at a time.

“Is that… okay?” George said. He had steered Matty toward the back lounge for the invited guests and hired talent. Once George closed the door behind Matty, the wall of sound became a void, ringing white noise. “Do you want earplugs or something? I, uh, I probably have a pair somewhere. I’m sure I do.”

“No, no—I don’t mind that it’s loud. Just sort of forgot. Can’t tell you last time I’ve been to a proper club.” Matty placed his hand on George’s arm, gently squeezing it, before leading him further into the room and away from the door.

“Not a fan?” George asked. He immediately grabbed a bottle of water from the oblong coffee table. He twisted off the cap and handed it to Matty. It was Friday; he’d had his early and late classes.

“Just prefer a place I can sit down,” Matty shrugged. “And if I’m feeling wild: hear my friends talk.”

“You’re really not supposed to chitchat at a club.”

“Name another time I’ve been quiet that long, George.”

George paused. “Okay, so you might actually hate it here.” He was trying to tell a joke, but his chest tightened and twisted into a knot. Like he forgot how to create a laugh. He couldn’t.

“George, love, stop fretting—please? I’m starting to think I’m making you worse.” Matty swung his hand out to playfully hit George on the arm. The open water bottle made a small damp spot on his sleeve; luckily, he was only wearing a short sleeve, cotton shirt. “Pretty sure you’ve been doing all this before I ever showed up. You know what you’re up to—you’re very talented. I’m just here to listen, take a vow of silence, have a drink or two.”

“Oh, I should go get you one, shouldn’t I?” George muttered, looking at his watch and then the clock on the wall—they were a minute apart: George’s watch a minute behind. He was already floundering. The first time he brought Matty—any boyfriend at all for that matter—to one of his shows and everything felt like it was developing into a disappointment. A stumble. Two left feet. George could hear the music muffled in the other room; he just wanted to stand submerged in it.

“That—No, George. That’s not why I said that. I’m not angling for you to go and—Look, I just want to drink after I had to listen to someone wedge Ecstasy of Influence into our discussion for the third class in a row.”

“But I should go get them—they won’t charge me.”

“Oh, so it’s about showing off, not chivalry…” Matty said, offsetting his jaw as he crossed his arms and smirked at George.

“No! I—Matty, it’s Valentine’s Day," George said, taking out his phone. His phone matched his watch but not the wall clock.

“And you’re already going to get laid. I’m not sure why you think you have to butter me up—"

George sputtered in surprise and embarrassment as he heard someone talking just outside the door. “I meant, it’s Valentine’s Day so they’re going to be up-charging, I’m sure. Let me get you a drink. They don’t charge the people they hire.”

“You must not know what happens when a cute guy like me goes up to most bars,” Matty said, lifting one eyebrow. “I won’t pay for anything; Fuck, I’ll barely even need to be paying attention.”

George had never considered how Matty was as a single guy. He’d never really told him. Or maybe George had never asked. There wasn’t much for George to tell Matty, so maybe he’d forgotten people had dating histories that weren’t accidentally shallow or convenient. Had first loves before their late twenties.

The club owner opened the door while still finishing the tail end of his hallway conversation. “—on in twenty, okay? Yeah—George! Good to see you, early as always. What I like to see. JJ walked in five minutes before she was supposed to go on. Again.”

“She likes the spontaneity,” George said with a shrug, placing his bag down in one of the mismatched armchairs. “I can’t argue her style. She’s always great.”

“I just wish she could be spontaneous and not raise my blood pressure,” he said. “You ready to go on in half an hour?” George nodded, checking all three times again. “Great. Anything you need—you can go out and float around JJ when you’re ready. Get either of you a drink?”

“I’m okay, thanks,” Matty said. He placed a hand between George’s shoulders as he hunched down to look in his bag. George’s nervous energy was never something Matty could ignore. “George, did you want something? Or do you want me to get it for you.” Matty was teasing, probably feeling the tension in the muscles of George’s back. Maybe hoping for a laugh.

Instead, Matty’s kind and gentle smile—eyes following George’s hands as they continued to jostle everything in every pocket—was distracted by the owner’s follow up question: “I’m sorry—and I mean no disrespect—but who are you again? George, if this is a new label rep, I’m sorry I’ve forgotten again—”

“Label rep?” George turned toward Matty, who was still touching his back with one hand and had begun to hold his bicep lightly with the other. It was certainly no way to represent a professional relationship.

Matty looked down at himself. “I just came from teaching—Dammit, George, why didn’t you tell me I look like a corporate drone? Is it the tie? It is, isn't it?”

Finally, George smiled. The plane of his back under Matty’s hand relaxing as he laughed, shaking his head. “You don’t look like a drone, okay? And Matty isn’t my PR guy. He’s—” George had never actually called him his boyfriend in front of anyone before; at the holiday party, the moment everyone saw Matty walk in with George, they knew this was The Date George had after studio sessions so often. “He’s just here with me. No business.”

George couldn’t hear the music as clearly anymore, blood rushing in his ears. Matty moved his hand along George’s shoulder blades, slowly and soothingly. Finally, George’s fingers found the loose pair of foam earplugs in the front pocket of his bag. The last place left. He righted himself and held them out to Matty. He ignored the conversation he’d left paused with the owner for as long as it took Matty to tire from arguing he didn’t need them. He dropped his hand from George’s bicep to take them, his other hand not leaving George’s back.

The clock on the wall kept ticking, faster than the one on his wrist.

“Matty’s going to uh… he’s going to be up there with me.” George pointed loosely toward the door; he didn’t know what was out there, technically. Without being sure where the music was coming from, without being able to feel it faintly pulsing in his chest, he didn’t even know where the dancefloor was.

“Up where?” Matty asked.

“The stage. When I’m doing my set.”

“I didn’t think I would be allowed.” Matty shot the owner a quick look before adjusting his tie.

“Of course you are! But only if you want to. I won’t be offended if you’d much rather... not.” George wanted to give Matty the option to pick how he wanted to spend his evening. How to make it better without George intervening, even by accident, and making things worse—

“George,” Matty said softly. George blinked and realized the owner had already left the room; no commotion, no remark, no insistence Matty become part of the monolithic, pulsing, impersonal crowd. No pushback. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“I’m not a fucking idiot, you know that, right?” Matty said. He stood in front of George and placed both hands on his shoulders, as if keeping him planted on the ground. George didn’t know he’d been feeling an urge to pace until then. Until he couldn’t. “What’s got you this upset?”

“I always get nervous before I perform anything. You know that. You know me.”

Matty had been sitting on that studio couch every day for those two weeks. He’d been over when George accepted calls for other gigs and immediately interrupted his own train of thought to jot down his immediate thoughts and plans—afraid he’d forget the “genius” of the impulse. Afraid his instincts weren’t really instincts at all, just moments when inspiration would take pity on him.

While talking about his students’ coursework, Matty had told George about the idea of ancient Greek poets praying at the beginning of their works. Of asking the gods of inspiration—the muses, actually; George remembered feeling embarrassed by his own surprise and sense of clarity by this fact and connection—before embarking on their epics. The invocation, Matty had called it with a flourish of his hand.

Matty described it as if the idea was antiquated; no one thought creativity or inspiration was so out of their hands that it had to be requested at the beginning of every project. But sometimes, when George could feel expectations compounding and very separate things interconnecting into one daunting and terrifying moment, he wished there was someone he could hand things off to. Trust he had solid instincts when he was mid-set and suddenly becoming aware of his own hands and expression and body and position with the person next to him—the new DJ that just arrived and hovering too close and asking too many questions, but being so polite and was someone George should be very eager to show the ropes because he never had that... To trust he would have no need to second guess, critiquing himself for too long and missing the window to execute his plan. The swing of his set broken while George was left standing in horrifying, reverberating silence and—

“This isn’t nerves, George. You look like you might pass the fuck out. Or throw up. Maybe both.” Matty ran his hands across George’s shoulders and laced them together behind his neck, pressing their foreheads together. “It’s not me making you this anxious, is it?”

“No, of course not,” George said quickly. “I just want everything to be perfect—”

“Well, it can’t be.”

“I-I know. I know. Nothing can be perfect,” George mumbled, trying to echo Matty’s frequent and always kind encouragement. What George tried to remember when he was feeling his anxiety bind tighter with the feeling things were slipping out of his control. George had invoked Matty’s words a lot in the past week in particular. “Best-case scenario, then. I want the very best-case scenario. For you. I want you to have a good time and—”

“Do you not think I’m having a good time?”

“My set isn’t for another,” George looked at the clock on the wall only. “fifteen minutes. We’ve just gotten here and… literally stood in a room while I’m…” trying not to freak out or throw up or just blurt out that I— “That’s nothing very exciting.”

“Hey, that’s not all we did today; you picked me up from class, we had dinner, you let me read to you that botched essay intro, you told me about that tour invite and the boys, you invited me to see you do your job. George,” Matty stopped to reset his worried expression with another warm smile. “George, you do know you’re the reason I came, right? Not to experience the best DJ set of my life or have one too many and convince your band to dance with me, or even know any of the songs you’re going to play. I just came here because it meant spending time with you. And that’s why I’m having a good time. That’s it. This isn’t a performance review. I am not qualified for that in the slightest.”

“But—”

“George,”

“I’m not trying to argue,” George said. Matty nodded, moving both of their heads. Matty carefully ran one hand up and down the back of George’s neck, encouraging him to continue. “But… this is sort of your first… event with me. Next to me. Associated with me.”

“… And? We talked about this, right? It’s not industry people who know you, so I’ll have to be more… aware of what I’m doing. But just at first, like you said—I get it, George. I really do.”

“No, no. It has nothing to do with that… Or maybe it does. Fuck,” George stopped to take a breath, forcing it out through his pursed lips. “I want to do something you can be proud of. Be someone you don’t mind admitting is your date. I don’t want to embarrass you—"

“Embarrass?” Matty repeated with a soft but tense laugh. He cleared his throat and George could hear a sudden wetness sink his words. “What a preposterous fucking idea. And, actually, even more so: the idea I didn’t come here already proud of you. That I’m not already more than willing to walk out there and tell everyone who’s even remotely paying attention to me—free fucking drinks or not—” Matty gave them both the chance to laugh, the thickness falling away from Matty’s voice and some of the weight shaking off from George’s shoulders. “That I came here with you. I’ll go anywhere with you—anywhere you’re willing to have me.”

George dipped his head down to kiss Matty, quickly and without invitation for any lengthier response, considering the moment and environment. He wanted to say it. He wanted to tell Matty right then—without the expectation of anything in return. Just simply say. But that was sort of the point of the set. George hoped he could say it without the words; without the direct chance of rejection.

Matty kissed George on the cheek, hands sliding from his neck to smooth his collar and flip his silver earring so the engraving of the dagger’s hilt faced outward. His knuckle grazed George’s jaw as he stilled the jewelry from swinging.

“You’re going to be incredible—as you always are.” Matty said, holding the sides of George’s face. “Like, that’s not me setting a ridiculous bar. That’s actually sort of the baseline for you. Anything beyond that will just be genius—which, also very possible, I’m finding.”

George leaned against one of Matty’s hands—warm and firm and unflinching from the request for support—and sighed, a sense of relief hitting him.

George remembered what he was doing there. He could feel the music in the other room. He smiled. And Matty, the central reason for the tailoring of the next hour of George’s night, smiled back.

They waited in silence, George not trusting himself to say anything else. Not wanting to spoil it.

---

The music was too loud. But that was sort of the point. George was up on stage, feeling the rolling pulse of the room and the music, and didn’t have the space or sense in his head to hear himself think about anything other than just that.

The lights, flickering and flashing and swirling.  The faces in the crowd—at least those he could make out—lighting up and excitedly reacting to the change in song, speaking to the person beside them—the only person who could hope to hear them.

The person beside him, waiting until George lowered his headphones to lean in to talk to him. Both of Matty's hands gently holding George's forearm. Matty's chest pressed against George's bicep and shoulder as he leaned in, trying to shout in his ear over the music coming from the speakers on all sides of them.

“I’m going to go get a drink, okay?” Matty said. George only understood when Matty pointed at the blue backlit bar directly across the dance floor. He’d been standing next to George for the entire first half of his set, enthusiastic and smiling. Bouncing and dancing. Trying to get George to do more than his usual simple sway to the music—Oh, come on! I know you know how to move your hips a bit better than that, love.

George gave him a thumbs up and a smile. Matty held up two fingers and lifted his eyebrows. He pointed to George’s empty glass resting on the low railing surrounding the raised stage platform. It had been a vodka soda that, thankfully, had barely had much of the first ingredient. George shook his head and nodded toward the bar with his continued smile.

Matty stepped down from the platform and began weaving his way around the dance floor. He avoided all the clueless drunk dancers, almost bodies possessed by the music, and nosey patrons that bothered to look up at the DJ and see the new face now walking among them, but managed to bump directly into Adam. Which meant within seconds, and a silent cheer of surprise, Matty had also found the rest of the band that had come: Ross, John, and Polly.

As if discussed beforehand, the moment they all saw Matty they collectively looked up at George and waved. As if they knew George would be watching Matty from the slightly higher vantage point. Because of course George was. He answered them all with a quick grin so they would turn away again. After a moment of gesturing and over-enunciated (but mostly unheard) sentences, Ross walked with Matty to the bar. The other three migrated to the side of the dance floor with a cementing nod and lift of a hand: We’ll wait right here.

Watching Matty struggle to get through the crowd to the bar, George quickly rearranged his mental lineup of songs. What use was Matty knowing—dating—the DJ if George played all his favorite songs while he stood in line, cramped in his reach for the bartender between Ross and the back of a guy with shoulders practically as wide as Matty was tall.

For a moment, being able to see Matty from a distance was sort of romantic. It was a thrill to be able to take all of Matty in at once—when most of their romance typically happened up close, barely enough distance for George to see the lips he was about to kiss. From his vantage point, George could watch Matty lean forward on the bar, his weight shifting onto his left foot with his right hovering just above the ground. Could watch as Matty began bouncing his foot with an unknown pulse of anxiety, impatience, or anticipation; George couldn’t see Matty’s expression to know.

George looked back at the decks, needing to focus to ensure his secondary ordering of songs transitioned smoothly. He looked back up at Matty—to see if he’d have to sub in another song before he was back on the dance floor—and saw him angled back toward the rest of the room, smiling and chatting, his face more in view. The only face George couldn’t see was that of the man talking to Matty, one hand braced against the bar railing and the other quickly—and so smoothly George barely noticed—fiddling with the end of Matty’s tie.

George checked his watch, trying to give himself somewhere else to look. He lowered his head and gave himself the chance to hide his flushing and crimson embarrassment. He didn’t mind someone else flirting with Matty—George couldn’t be upset with other men that fell under the very same spell he did after their first introduction. No, George felt embarrassed he’d seen them, that he had been watching at all. That he was observing when maybe Matty had no such idea. Exposing a moment perhaps Matty would rather not have George see; invading Matty’s privacy and knowing something Matty would always think George didn’t know. What a terrible basis for lo—

Finally, George looked back up. Resisting to do so almost like telling himself not to think of something—and only prompting further rumination. George saw Matty shaking his head, hand resting on his own chest, as if holding his heart. When the man nudged Matty’s foot with his own—yet something else George felt he should never have seen—Matty lifted his hand to point at George.

Four sets of eyes were now on him: Ross, Matty, the stranger, and now the bartender returning with Matty’s drink. George froze. He didn’t know what Matty had said about him in their conversation; he didn’t want to betray his point by doing the wrong thing. George had told Matty to keep things lowkey for the night while George acclimated to (very subtly) exposing his personal life, but with someone flirting with him why else would he be pointing at George? Surely, it was romantic sort of point—literal romantic gesture—right?

But how could George ensure Matty knew it was okay he brought it up, that he was happy and so proud to be up there but if only because it meant Matty could turn and point and mouth something that looked a hell of a lot like: that’s my boyfriend.

Before George could short-circuit much further, Matty put his fingers to his lips and blew George a kiss. He then folded his hand at the knuckles in a flapping wave. Almost like a joke. A tease. A giddy gesture that had George feeling like he was growing sunburnt under the minimal, flashing lights. A youthful, almost teenage, motion done with complete honesty and infatuation. For a moment, George felt relief, felt certain for a moment that his very ridiculous and overthought plan would work...

With his drink in hand—and small black straw between his lips—Matty started going back toward the rest of the group. His eyes were busy searching each face he passed for Adam or Polly he didn’t look back up at George at first. It was just as well; George was already so anxious, he was sure if Matty looked directly at him as the next song started, his entire heart would’ve dropped into his shoes. Maybe bruised, maybe shattered, maybe resilient enough to bounce back up.

Although, as the song started, George felt like his heart had stopped. Its internal pulse absent from his ears as the beat around them took over, pounding against his chest, ribs, temples. George dissolved into the music; hoping that the joy and repeatedly expressed excitement Matty had shown listening to it in George’s studio would appear on the dance floor in front of him.

Just one more time, George. Play that part just one more time… For me?

After a deep breath, George forewent any subtlety and made no effort to hide he was watching for Matty’s reaction. He pulled his headphones down around his neck. The sound diluted into the vastness of the room, in comparison to being fed directly into George’s ears, but he preferred it. He wanted the space and breathing room. At least for the moment.

Matty stopped his gesticulating and conversation with John, pausing as he registered the song. His pivot from speaking to emphatically starting to sing along was split-second. Adam stood sort of confused, amused, and dumbfounded as Matty’s apparently dire point faded away and he started dancing: swaying mostly his hips with the beat and holding his one arm up, while the other steadily held his drink in front of him.

Matty lowered his arm and went to take another sip just as the chorus was about to hit again, his usual stopping point when listening with George, but the song swung back around to the start of the verse. Just that part, one more time. For him.

Matty’s declared favorite, all over again. Right on time—jumping to that exact thump of the brutally danceable kick drum. George wasn’t sure Matty would even notice; he probably hadn’t heard the song that many times to know its structure the way George had to. Oh, maybe it was all a bit ridiculous to think—

But Matty had stopped dancing. His lips still moved along to the lyrics, but now like trying to whisper across the cacophony to George. The lyrics almost being stripped and returned to its poetic form. Spoken with slight disbelief.

While everyone else seemed slightly confused—feeling more betrayed by their memory than upset about any music decision or direction—Matty continued to melt right back into the song. Dancing just as he had, holding the back of George’s chair with gleeful distraction.

As George began to fade between the songs—no threat of the verse cycling a third time—Matty pushed his empty glass into Ross’s hands and began hurriedly snaking back through the crowd to the platform. Despite his evident excitement—shifting and shuffling his feet while he pulled at his sleeves—Matty still stood and waited for George to give a cue he was finished with his task at hand.

Admittedly, George wanted to stay in the momentary reprieve between his gesture, the reaction, and his direct confession—the purpose of it all. In that moment, he could only be relieved that he’d done it in the first place. He hadn’t yet had enough time to worry or feel embarrassed by his own ornately constructed vulnerability.

But if George stayed in that moment forever, he’d never hear Matty’s reaction. Good or bad, it would still be Matty. And that sure as hell beat a solitary moment of acquiescing to fear.

George lowered his headphones again and turned to Matty with the very best look of neutrality and obliviousness he could. Matty was looking back with that minute, timid smile: the one meant for George and almost undetectable by onlookers. A glimpse at the joy thrumming inside of him; almost too full to even attempt to express; settling for an undersell rather than falling short.

“Need something, Matty?”

“I love that song!” Matty leaned in toward George’s ear. His hand gently curled around George’s hanging safely under the table and out of view. He tugged and pulled George toward him, able to slightly lower—soften—his voice. “You know I love that song—thank you.”

“I-I wanted you to have a good time! A chance to know some songs—your favorites!”

“You didn’t have to do that—what about everyone else here?”

George pulled back to better see Matty’s entire face. “Yeah? What about them?”

Matty’s smile faltered as he lowered his eyes to George’s earring, now swinging in the air after being pressed down by his headphones. His lips parted as if he was going to speak but then pressed them back together.

“Matty,” George said, although not loud enough. “I’m really glad you came tonight.”

“Hm?” Matty moved his fingers behind his ear—as if his hair was even remotely long enough—to politely hint he couldn’t hear George.

“I…” George cleared his throat, hoping it would still be there even if he couldn’t hear it. Couldn’t hear anything but the music flooding his body just like the flush creeping up his chest and over his cheeks. “I love you.”

“What?” Matty cupped his ear and leaned forward toward George.

George found himself repeating the sentence, but far softer. “I—I love you.”

Matty lowered his hand and looked at George with a furrowed brow. “I-I’m sorry, George. I can’t hear you!” He gestured toward his ears with splayed out hands, mimicking the pulsing, pounding soundwaves thudding against him from the surrounding speakers. “Don’t forget though, okay? Tell me later?"

George nodded, smiling. Like he could ever forget.

"Sure, yeah. Later!"

Like he was ever thinking about anything else.

---

After his set, despite the band congratulating him and offering a few rounds on them, George wanted to go home. Wanted to get out of the noise. He was beginning to feel spoken over, crowded, and pushed out by the thumping music—then even more so when it was no longer him behind the decks.

Thankfully—and once again forgetting the holiday—no one teased George for turning in earlier than them. He and Matty were able to be back in his car, sitting in the parking lot, thirty minutes after his set finished.

“George, you’re incredible, you know that right?” Matty was speaking too loudly, but George didn’t mind; his ears were ringing too. And it also meant Matty laughed a bit louder than he usually did, too. “I don’t think I’ve had that much fun in a very long time.”

“I’m glad you came,” George smiled, his own laugh sounding muffled to his ears but feeling stronger in his chest. Matty lifted himself from his seat to lean over the console and kiss George, quickly but firmly.

“Thank you for inviting me, George. I was happy to be there with you not on business,” he said. “Happy to be your date tonight. Proud to be—even if we’re still the only people here that really know I was.”

George thought about saying it again—a third time—but he didn't think he could stomach the trade of an oblivious, neutral response to his intended confession for open, undeniable, almost amplified (possible) rejection.

Instead, he kissed Matty again. He braced his hand on the console and caught Matty's lips again before he moved all the way back into the passenger seat. Matty broke the kiss—without pulling away—with a near-muffled, definitely mumbled confession of his own:

“I heard you, you know,” Matty said when George inquisitively pulled away at the sound spoken against his lips. “After you played my song—what I told you not to forget; I heard you. I-I just wanted to see if you’d say it again. If you wanted to—If you meant it.”

“Do—would you like me to... say it again?” George asked. It was a nicer response than quietly pleading, please don’t break my heart. I’m sorry if I—

“No, no, you don’t owe me another one," Matty held the sides of George's face, anticipating his emotional and physical retreat and apology. "Especially since I still haven’t answered.”

“You don’t have to right now. Let's just go home and—"

“George, I think I should tell the man I’m in love with that I do love him, don’t you? Seems like a reasonable thing to do.”

George reached for Matty's face, holding him and trying to get a good look at the man in love with him. Trying to spot the moment Matty would break, would maybe lie and soften what he'd admitted to. Matty held his joyful—and increasingly teary—look at George.

"You do?"

"Yes! Yes, George. I love you! Of course I do." Matty laughed and pulled George in again. His hands dropped from holding George's face to rest flat on his chest. Feel the beat of his heart.

"Wait," George muttered, turning his face to break the kiss but not pull away. "Say it one more time... For me?"

[taegularities]

rid, my lovie !! my sweets !!

🚨 : ( rant incoming )

some of these recent asks have been making me want to start throwing gang signs or sum 💀 i know there are always gonna be some of these asks given the vast audience you have, and that they are just drowning in anticipation.

however, the undertone? 😭 do these people realize that you are a prolific writer, churning out quality contents faster than locusts can reproduce and infest? 🤨 RELATIVELY SPOKEN !!

good contents take time to plan, produce and publish !!

REMEMBER THE TRIPLE P. for an author who doesn't even ask you to pay, and responds with kindness only.

so, let's learn and practice more kindness and respectfulness here. thank you. ( sorry, if i sound like a teacher's pet, but rid is just too good to us )

anyway, we are nonetheless excited for your next releases, and 'entertainer' even after all this time.

( rant end )

꒰ ❛ ❜ personal lil message ꒱ ‎

rid, am so sorry for not getting back to your last 'ruined' response. i thought you hadn't answered it yet !! and are you kidding me? a!oc is my babiest baby !! of course, i adore her a lot. i remember somebody saying she is like a 'sunny weekend after a wet weather' or something, but bit more condescending— made me wanna throw some gang signs again, tafaq 😫 had to overcompensate with my repeated 'ruin you' asks, but i promise i equally read and enjoy your other stories. even sent asks about them before ( just not in my 🎀🖇🩵 style, haha ) and i'm thankful for each of the sweet responses from you : every. single. time!!

oh, by the way, i came across this pin today : https://pin.it/2rY2xnZtj

kinda ruined!tae on wedding night coded? 'i missed this' x 'it's only been two days' x 'and? i miss you all the damn time' ❤️‍🔥 can i please just ask what's the duo's moodboard like? ik they are a v monetesque, pastoral, serene and the whole artists garden at giverny + the water lily pond + beach at saint adresse!based couple.

but if possible i still wanna see them more from your artistic mind, my love. thank you. xo.

last but not least, must i mention how proud i am of you bc of the whole gaza take and activism on this platform? 🍉 it might be a bare minimum for a reality so cruel, but it matters. thank you for using your resources, and for saying how you listen to certain artists less bc of their lack of voice on this issue. every act matters. let's stay strong and

—take care. 🎀🖇🩵

gang signs omg lol 😭 honestly, i'm so thankful for the audience and the excitement everybody brings! the tone was a little off, but as i said, i'm pretty sure they didn't mean it that way, so i'm like, not mad or anything hehe. i hope they enjoyed entertainer!! it's true, though, that i've been a bit slow this year, but we try our best in this corner of our world. but thank you so much for saying that 😭 i'm flattered you appreciate my existence here and are so kind <3

it's okay, love, no reason to apologise. a!oc was everyone's baby, like she's still one of my favourite ocs i've written!! it's beyond crazy that people still remember her and this story overall. lmao yeah someone said she feels like a wet weekend after a sunny vacation or something idk it was way out of line, but what can we do.. i laughed 🤣 THANK YOUUUU for dropping by, whether with your signed asks or in any other way ily ily!!!

plsss on their wedding night?

more like always 😂 but so true. their mood boarddd hmmm, wait i'll go and make one rq brb *5 minutes later* i'd say that's them 🥺 def some monet, rain and autumn vibes

and ofc!! i think i could do even more and share even more. every thought counts. i can't even remember saying i listen to artists less, but it's 100% true, and i also try to avoid big chains such as starbucks, which i think we all should. take care as well, love 🤍

[lucid-ao3]

2024

Hello! I haven't updated tumblr in a while soooo decided to make a (long) post about what I'm currently working on and what I've posted recently:

MLB Writing Updates

1. In December I posted A Holiday Wish. It's a fun little few-shot where Adrien gets a gift from Plagg and sees what life is like if Ladybug loved him back. Shenanigans ensue. I really had fun with it. It's a companion piece to my story 'A Birthday Wish', wherein Marinette gets a similar birthday gift from Tikki. I always had the idea of "hmmm what if this was Adrien and Plagg, instead?"

2. I also wrote, in December, a fic for a gift exchange where the duo visits the Shadyverse. It's holiday themed, and I reallyyyyy enjoyed writing the piece. I was able to dive into Shadybug's life and paint a picture of what that universe may be like for her. I may expand on the universe simply because it's SO unexplored and interesting to write/create. I can really do anything with it! Some minor head canons were: Marinette's parents are divorced, Marinette lives alone, her still lives in Paris but is distant, her mother lives in China (estranged), Ladybug and Adrien are together, GabeDad is kind and loving, Marinette's second home is the Gabriel Mansion, Marinette lives alone, the bakery is a chain that churns out mediocre sweets.

I LOVE LOVE writing Adrien Angst - as many of you know - and the Shadyverse lets me flip that into Marinette angst in a similarly delicious way.

3. My Antidote story is 10k words and complete in my eyes but... it's also not complete. I want to post it but it ends abruptly and I don't want to disappoint readers. I'm uninspired to write a big final battle. TBD - may post before the end of the month.

Harry Potter Writing Updates

1. I posted my first ever triad smutfic. It's raunchy and *ahem* well I like it lol! Dreomione anyone? Check it out! Rated Explicit! Title: Disobedient

2. My Veela!Draco 8th Year story is coming along. I've recently been struck with inspiration. At the moment I have 28k words written. I'm thinking it will be around 45k by the time I'm done. It's spicy, but I'm also trying to do a solid "Draco is a new man" characterization that is believable, so the love story doesn't fall flat among the smut. I hope to start posting before May (fingers crossed!!)

3. I think I'm going to finally cross-post my old, old, first ever fanfiction, 'A Tale of Cinderella' to ao3. I've edited that thing about 100 times and it's evolved into something post-able. I'll post it all at once. Maybe tomorrow. Dramione/Rated G/Fifth Year Cinderella-esque romance

Zutara Writing Update

1. I'm not sure if I ever mentioned I have a Zutara story in the works, but I do. It'll be rated PG. I wanted to post it before the Live Action came out buuuuut not all things work out. Still, I have a lot of fun writing it and hope to post it by the end of the summer. Summary: "What if Katara healed Zuko's scar in Ba Sing Se, and Aang fully unblocked his final Chakra, releasing all worldly tethers (and Katara) and allowing him to master the Avatar state? Zutara book 2/3 divergence." What do you all think? Does it sound interesting? I'm shaping it around the cartoon so some chapters include things like [watch book 2 episode 20], etc. I want it to be as canon as possible - but Zutara!

WOW THIS WAS A LONG POST. I didn't realize how much I've been doing writing-wise. I'm happy I spent the time to type this all out even if no one reads it :)

Thanks all xo

[spirkme915]

Pick a Song #1 - Take My Breath Away by Berlin

for @between-stars-and-enterprise a spirk drabble inspired by "take my breath way" by berlin.

because my brain is a maze of incomprehensible turns and multiple exits, the first thing i thought of when i saw the song title was "top gun" and all i could remember about that movie was that the gorgeous woman may have been a teacher to the hotshot pilot (idek if this is true??) and i thought of spock teaching jim something, then i looked up the lyrics to make sure i remembered them well enough, and got stuck on the line "if only for today, i am unafraid" then this drabble (or, really, longer than a drabble, oops) happened!

it's all fluff. nothing but fluff.

i hope you enjoy 💙

Jim sets down an apple on the corner of the lectern then takes his seat at the table in the front row.

While he remains the captain in this conference room turned classroom, he won’t be in charge today - that illustrious honor belongs to his highly competent XO.

Spock lifts his gaze from his padd and, upon spotting the red fruit, inclines one svelte eyebrow in question.

“It’s an old Earth custom to give a teacher an apple,” Jim explains.

“Solely this specific type of fruit or any other?”

“Just an apple.”

“What was the origin of this type of gift?”

Jim hesitates, accesses the recesses of his memory and comes back blank. “Honestly? I don’t know.”

“Then I must conclude it is an illogical custom.”

“And yet, delicious. That one’s real not replicated - from a bag I picked up at the last starbase. Don’t waste it.”

The corner of Spock’s lips twitch. “Is that an order, Captain?”

Jim tsks. “You’re the one in charge, Mr. Spock.”

“Very well.”

Spock begins the lecture, immediately commanding the attention of the fifty-ish crew who have gathered to hear the most recent updates to Starfleet landing party procedures. Jim tries to pay attention, he really does, but he’s well-aware that he’s going to ignore most (all) of the official procedures the second circumstances deem it, and his time here today is much better utilized cataloging every inch of his first officer.

Appropriate? No, not at all. But a better use of his time? Without a doubt.

While he can’t quite force himself to listen to the substance of the lecture, the dulcet baritone of Spock’s voice rolls over him pleasantly. He appreciates the grace with which Spock moves between the lectern and the viewscreen - long legs, narrow hips, the fit of science blues over a well-formed chest and arms. Spock points to a block of dense, dreadfully boring regulation text on the viewscreen and Jim loses himself in the twist of Spock’s wrist, imagines those elegant fingers against his skin.

Jim clears his throat, stations his elbows on the table and decides to pay attention. It’s time to focus on something else.

Spock is a good teacher, engaging and patient, and Jim’s heart squeezes with adoration as the supposedly bland Vulcan keeps over fifty people hanging on his every word. The material is dry, yet Spock interjects stories from previous missions and invites others to participate. The first wry joke Spock cracks, Jim is the only one who dares to laugh. Ten minutes later, Spock has the entire room snickering. It’s all rather…endearing.

Because of course it would be.

Most people see Spock’s ears and eyebrows and make all kinds of assumptions. But the reality of Spock is much more Human than Spock would ever admit, much more saucy than Bones knows how to deal with, and so rebellious that Spock can make the James T. Kirk look tamed.

Jim may just be a little bit in love with him.

Or, well, a lot.

Spock catches his eyes and Jim gazes back with a smile meant just for his XO. He has to be completely obvious in the moment, but he can’t find the will to care. It’s not as if it’s the first time and it most definitely won’t be the last.

Every look he gives Spock is an invitation extended that he shouldn’t want Spock to accept. It’s safe because he knows that Spock never will.

But that’s okay. Because if this is all they ever are - friends, confidants, chess partners, brothers in arms - then Jim’s life is more complete than he thought it could be. The life of a starship captain can be painfully solitary and Spock’s ever-present presence at his side ensures it’s not.

“Captain?”

“Yes, Mr. Spock?”

“The lecture has concluded.”

Jim starts, glances around the room to find he’s the only crew member remaining. He has no chance of concealing the flush on his cheeks when he meets Spock’s eyes again.

“Ah. It appears it has.”

“Is there further clarification you seek, Captain? I am available for the next twelve minutes to answer questions.”

Will you marry me?, he thinks.

“No questions,” he says.

Spock accepts that with the hint of a nod then heads toward the lectern. He shuts off the viewscreen, picks up his padd, then palms the apple.

“Captain,” Spock says. “Thank you for the gift. I find it is most appropriate as it reminds me of you.”

Jim remains in his seat, curiosity getting the better of him. He rests his arms on the table and clasps his hands together. “And how is that, Mr. Spock?”

Spock takes two steps forward, until he’s standing in front of Jim - a table and an apple between them.

“It brings to mind a Terran colloquialism my mother was fond of saying - you are the apple of my eye.”

Important. Viewed with affection. Cared for.

Cherished.

Jim isn’t sure about the origins of that either, but the meaning is crystal clear.

“As you are for me,” he admits.

Spock leans down then and Jim has a mere fraction of a second to realize that Spock is going to kiss him before Spock’s lips are actually against his. It’s a shock of much colder skin first, then softness, then an electric heat that starts at his lips and zings through his entire body.

When Spock inches back, Jim can’t quite breathe.

“Have dinner with me tonight?” he asks.

He sounds just as breathless as he is. He can’t dredge up an ounce of shame for that one.

Spock holds up the apple, his oh-so-Human eyes dancing with sauciness, rebelliousness, and mirth.

“I will bring dessert.”

[highqueenofelfhame]

idk if this is good i just wrote it and didn’t edit it IDK MAN IDK WHAT THIS IS i hope you enjoy it tho xo

rowaelin // 1820 words

It wasn’t the first time Aelin had cursed her socialite lifestyle, and she knew it wouldn’t be the last, but she really hated that a full camera crew was filming every second of Aedion and Lysandra’s wedding tonight. 

Not because she didn’t want the event well documented. This footage would immortalize their love for each other in a beautiful way and there wasn’t a doubt in her mind that she would never be able to watch it back and not shed a healthy amount of tears. If anything, she was grateful for that aspect of how chaotic their lives tended to be. What she wasn’t looking forward to seeing was Rowan Whitethorn’s face sneaking in and out of frame while he enjoyed the party. 

Aelin could deal with everything this night threw at her, but she hated that she kept catching glimpses of the top of his silver head over everyone else’s, or that he looked unfairly delicious in a dark, forest green tuxedo that fit his frame perfectly. She hated the feeling of his gaze on her when she wasn’t looking, and she especially hated when they made eye contact from opposite sides of the dance floor. 

The option to disappear completely wasn’t on the table. As maid of honor, she had duties to fulfill and knew there would be a million and one rumors about her having a falling out with Lys or Aedion. Though they laughed about all that outrageously ridiculous gossip, she refused to have that trump the day that was solely about them. 

So instead of trying to make herself blend into the background or hiding in the bathroom, she had taken to being keenly aware of where Rowan was at all times so that she could easily avoid bumping into him and having to talk to him at all. So far, through the ceremony and the first leg of the reception, it was a success. Her shitty relationship drama wasn’t going to muddy up the wedding, especially when Rowan and Aedion had only recently began to speak after two years of radio silence on Aedion’s part. 

Their breakup had been very public. More than one episode of the reality show that followed the scandalous lives of Orynth’s elite had featured her crying over everything she and Rowan had lost. Though she never watched the show unless she was feeling sentimental, she especially avoided the clips from that part of her life. It was a chapter she had slammed shut, and she refused to look back on any of it. Not yet, anyway. 

Truthfully, Aelin didn’t like thinking about it because she always tried to look back on it with rose colored lenses. There were many nights that she lay awake, watching her ceiling fan spin in spirals while  trying to avoid a mental one of her own. 

It wasn’t that anything truly terrible had been the reason for their breakup. Rowan’s career simply took off and, in the process of a blooming music career, their relationship had taken the backseat. He got too busy, long distance was hard, and they had grown apart. 

Except she didn’t feel like she was the one that drifted away. Even with oceans between them, she made her best efforts to show up when it mattered to him, to talk to him as much as she could despite a busy schedule of her own. And then one night while they lay in bed on a rare weekend he had free to visit her in Orynth, she’d whispered the words that shattered her heart and crushed her soul: I can’t do this anymore. 

It was all too hard, too much. It felt as though they had gone from being madly in love and bordering on obsessed with each other to struggling to hold a conversation. Rowan was often exhausted from long days of travel, rehearsals, or shows. Aelin worked hard, long days between filming the show and working on her designs for the next season. 

Rowan had tried to fight her on the breakup, insisting that things would get better, but neither of them could figure out the when and the how. He had begged, made promises that she knew he couldn’t keep, and swore up and down, left and right, that he would be better and more present. But after months of drifting, she couldn’t see the shore anymore. By the time she said it out loud, there was nothing he could say or do that would fix it. Aelin had made up her mind and waited until she couldn’t handle it anymore. And then she just… shut down.

It had caused a big falling out with their friend group. A few had been on his side, a few on hers. Aedion was blindly loyal to Aelin and cut ties with Rowan almost immediately after watching her slowly crumble from heartbreak. It had only been three months ago when he’d tentatively asked her how she would feel if Rowan was at the wedding. 

“Aedion, it’s not about me. You used to be best friends. If you want him there, then he should be there,” she told him, squeezing his hands as she spoke. Aelin had even told him early on he should invite Rowan, something he had shot down at the time. But as time went on Aelin could see it was bothering him. That getting married without his best friend since he could walk at least in the room would leave a single piece of happiness missing on the best day of his life. Of course she had insisted he be invited. It wasn’t about her, that was the truth.

But seeing him had been more painful than she had anticipated, even five years later, and she was tired of knowing where he was in the room at any given millisecond. As she had the thought, their eyes locked across the dancefloor and she quickly turned to find anything else to do than be caught in a staring contest with the love of her life. Instead of walking away, though, she slammed into the hard body of her cousin.

“Where are you off to in such a hurry?” He teased, steadying her with his hands on her shoulders. Aelin conjured up one of her infamous mischievous smirks as she gestured toward the open bar.

“Where else?” 

“The dance floor. You owe me a dance.” At those words, her heart softened and she patted his cheek, taking his arm and allowing him to pull her into the center of their dancing friends. A slow song that sounded vaguely familiar drifted through the speakers as they fell into a relaxed carriage, Aedion leading them in slow circles. 

“Our mothers are probably weeping over this,” she joked, eyes scanning the crowd once more to where Evalin and Aerin stood arm and arm with their husbands. The matriarchs had their phones already pointed to the cousins and deep laughter rumbled from Aedion’s chest. Aelin stuck her tongue out toward the two women, her mother shooting her a flat look over the top of her phone before she let herself be swept back into the moment with the man who was so much like a brother to her. “I’m really proud of you, you know.”

“I think you’re going to take that back in about ten seconds.” As Aelin’s brows wrinkled in confusion, Aedion spun her around and– let go of her hand that was quickly caught by someone else. 

The easy, relaxed posture she had with Aedion disappeared almost immediately as she scowled at him over her shoulder. He mouthed an apology, one that she mentally flushed down the toilet, and turned around to stare at the bowtie tied around Rowan’s neck.

There was no need to look up to know it was him. Aelin knew the callouses that scarred his fingers and palms, knew his warm smell of pine and snow. Her entire body was rigid while he led her in a slow dance as the song played on. Everyone around them had definitely clocked the encounter, and Aelin caught Lys smacking Aedion’s shoulder while he held his hands up defensively. 

The worst part about the entire thing was how badly she wanted to relax into his body, his touch. She wanted the hand that rested on her side to slip to her exposed lower back and hold her closer. It made her want to cry, but she exhaled slowly and willed her emotions to simmer instead of breaking the dam she had so carefully built around anything that had to do with Rowan. 

“I’m sorry for ambushing you,” he finally said, his thumb soothingly stroking soft circles over the bare skin of her ribs. 

“I doubt that,” she replied, finally lifting her eyes to meet his. Rowan’s lips twitched like he was fighting a smile. Aelin frowned. 

“I’m a little sorry,” he amended, eyes sparkling in the low, twinkling lights that surrounded them. Aelin didn’t say anything, shifting her eyes to the dark green fabric of his suit instead of the piercing green of his eyes. It maybe made her a shitty dance partner, but she couldn’t get her body to relax. Every muscle was stiff, even her fingers where they rest on his arm. Her nails were pressed into the skin of his hand where he held it, but it didn’t seem enough to push him away. “You look beautiful tonight.”

“Maybe you should have told me that more often before,” she quipped, unable to keep her mouth shut. Typical.

“I should have.” Surprise must have flashed on her face, because he nodded, letting out a sigh. “I should have done a lot of things that I didn’t do, that I stopped doing. I should have tried harder.”

“I don’t want to rehash our old bullshit at Aedion’s wedding,” she said tightly, jaw clenching over every word he said. “Time and place, Rowan. I know you were never good at that, but–”

“I’m sorry.” Aelin stilled at his words, something about hearing them now threatening to break down every wall she had built where he was concerned. “For all of it, Fireheart. You deserved better than what I gave you that last year. You deserve more than that. I was young and stupid, and I’m sorry. I never meant–”

“It’s a little late for all of that, Rowan.” Aelin pulled her hand from his and stumbled out of his arms, catching the bicep of a college friend of her cousin’s to steady herself. She wouldn’t fall, not with the way Rowan had immediately caught her hips to keep that from happening. 

“Ace–” He started, but she shoved his hands off of her and held up her hand to stop him. 

Without another glance over her shoulder, Aelin gathered the bottom of her gown in her fist and disappeared from the dance floor with a burning hole in her heart. 

[emwritesfootball]

Love to Hate You | Joe Gomez

Hiya - Would love a good old 'enemies to lovers' please if poss? One where you play for Everton women and hate everything to do with Liverpool..until you find yourself alone on a private jet with Joe Gomez as you're both flown to a photo-shoot for new England kit. Your mutual loathing is temporarily paused for some kinky in-flight entertainment as you induct him into the mile high club (with maybe a lil bit of spanking thrown in!)🤭🥵x

A/N: sooo, this turned out longer than expected. 1.6K of mile high sexy-times. Hope whoever requested this back in the day is still around. Enjoy xo

Warnings: teasing, loathing-to-lovers, spanking, blowjob, vaginal sex w/o a condom

- - -

It was no secret how you felt about Liverpool. As a diehard Everton fan from birth who was now playing for Everton Women, it was only natural that you hated your rival team with a burning passion.

“Did you see Leah’s message?” Is the first thing your Everton and fellow Lionesses teammate Jess Park asks when you pick up her phone call.

“No, not yet.” You put the call on speaker as you swipe through all your message notifications until you get to the Lionesses group chat and see the unread messages.

Leah Williamson: Hey, ladies! Rumour has it our new kit is dropping next week and we’re to report to Wembley for a photoshoot on Friday

You scroll down through the replies from all our teammates, smiling at all of their predictable responses and adding one of your own.

“Apparently, it’s a shoot with the men, too, so you’ll have to try to hold back your disgust for the Liverpool players for one full day.”

You rolled your eyes but you knew Jess was right. “I’ll try my best but I’m not responsible if one of them starts something and I just happen to finish it.”

***

The week passed quicker than expected and you found yourself arriving at the airport for the flight the FA had chartered for you and some of the other players.

“Well, well, well, look who it is,” crooned a familiar voice, and you could feel the hairs on the back of your neck stick up as you turned to face Joe Gomez. “My favourite Everton player.”

“Gomez,” you seethed, giving him a glaring once-over. “I’d say it was lovely to see you again, but we both know that’s not true. Please tell me there are others joining us.”

Joe shook his head. “None from my end. Hendo’s been in London for the past few days and Trent managed to get himself out of this somehow. I don’t know about the Everton men, but with Dom out injured, he’s definitely not getting called up.”

“My teammate Jess should be here soon, and I know Liverpool women didn’t get any call-ups.” On cue, your phone pinged with an incoming message from Jess.

Jess: Sorry, woke up sick and can’t make it. Have fun and say hi to the girls for me!

You let out a sigh. “Well, there goes my friend. She’s sick, so it looks like it’s just going to be us.”

Joe made a sweeping gesture with his hand towards the stairs leading up to the chartered jet. “After you, m’lady.”

You decided not to argue with him as you boarded the plane, making sure to pick a seat farthest away from where he could possibly think to sit. Joe had other plans, though, taking the seat right across the aisle from you, grinning like the Cheshire Cat as he did so. 

The flight attendant came round, handing each of you a glass of water and letting you both know that the flight would be a little under an hour and that the plane would be taking off shortly.

“So,” Joe began after taking a sip of his water and setting it down on the table, “anything exciting happen recently?”

“Like you care,” you snorted, pulling out your phone to send one last message to Jess.

You: Feel better! Wish you were here to save me from Joe Gomez - promise to bail me out of prison if I kill him?

Jess: Promise xx

“You’re right, I don’t. Just figured I’d make some idle chit-chat since we’re going to be stuck here for the next hour.” He paused, his gaze raking over your body to take you in. “You look good.”

You knew that was true, the extra hours of training you’d put into in order to make sure you got the call up to the Lionesses looking very good on your body, but you weren’t in the most flattering of clothes at the moment.

“Thanks.” You glanced over at him, trying to return the compliment. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

Joe let out a laugh. “Just how much willpower did it take you to say that so sincerely?”

A smile tugged at your lips but you didn’t want to let it show. “Not as much as you would think, Gomez.”

“Please. Call me Joe.”

You pretended to ponder his request for a moment. “I’d rather not. Calling you by your first name implies that I feel something more for you other than contempt.”

He leaned into your personal space, a smirk on his lips that made you glance down at them for a brief moment. “I’m sure I can make you feel so much more than contempt if you’d let me.” Your name was a breathy sigh on his lips as he reached over and cupped your cheek, trailing his fingers down your face until he reached your neck.

“And why,” you swallowed hard, knowing he could probably feel your racing pulse under his fingertips, “would I do that?”

“You’re so tense and this photoshoot is supposed to be fun. Besides, I don’t kiss and tell. What we do - or don’t do - on this flight won’t ever be revealed to anyone.”

Your gaze searched his, briefly dipping down to his lips again. They were right there - so full and kissable, and you’d be lying to yourself if you hadn’t thought about it since he’d brought up the proposition minutes ago. “Promise?” You sucked in your bottom lip between your teeth, watching as Joe’s eyes tracked the movement and his pupils dilated.

“Promise.” 

Ten minutes later, the plane had taken off and Joe had led you to the sofa part of the seating area. He sat down and spread his legs, motioning for you to stand in-between them. “Good girl,” he praised, his hand coming up to wrap around your wrist. “It’s a shame I’m going to have to punish you.”

“P-Punish me?” You hated that you stuttered at his words, but your racing heartbeat gave you away. “Why?”

“Why? For all the times you’ve been an absolute menace to me and I’ve let you get away with it, that’s why.” Joe looked up at you and smirked. “I’ve got at least twenty instances in the last year alone.”

Twenty. You knew you could be a dick - especially when it came to Joe and the other Liverpool players - but you didn’t think it had been that many.

You were so lost in thought you didn’t realize what was happening until Joe had yanked your wrist so that you went tumbling over his lap. He pinned you down and took your hands in one of his, the other rubbing circles over your ass. “Don’t squirm,” he ordered, landing one warning spank to your ass. “I plan to keep your joggers on, but if you’re going to be difficult, I have no problem taking them down along with your panties.”

Your stomach dipped in a mix of anticipation and adrenaline. “You really get off on this kind of thing, huh, Gomez?”

Your chuckle was interrupted with another smack to your ass and you let out a yelp. “No more than you are, love.” Another smack. “And you know to call me Joe.”

“Go to hell, Gomez.”

He rained down more slaps to your ass until you lost count. “Ready to be a good girl?”

You let out a groan. “Fuck you…Joe.”

“That’s a start.” He tugged down your joggers, letting out an appreciative whistle as he spied the panties you’d put on that day. His thumb ran over the soaked fabric and stopped at your clit, causing you to involuntarily moan as he pressed on the sensitive area. 

“Done yet, Joe?”

“For now,” he hummed, releasing you and you stood back up, “but don’t think I won’t hesitate to put you back over my knee if you need it.”

You maintained eye contact with him as you sank to your knees, reaching for the waistband of his Liverpool-emblazoned joggers to free his cock. The sound he made had you feeling powerful as you worked your way up to slowly taking him in your mouth until you were gagging on his length. 

Joe grabbed a fistful of your hair, guiding you as you worked him over with your mouth and hands. It was one of the dirtiest, sloppiest blowjobs you’d ever given, spurred on by his moans of pleasure.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Joe groaned, pulling you off his cock before you could make him cum. “I wanna see you cum all over my cock.”

Both of you rid yourselves of the rest of your clothes before you straddled him, your ass still stinging from your earlier punishment. Joe made sure to grab hold of your ass, adding pain to the pleasure he was about to elicit from you.

“Fuck, Joe,” you sank down on his cock, loving the way his girth stretched your walls and his length filled you up. 

Your name was on his lips as you rode him and you buried your face in the crook of his neck as you came. 

“That was…”Joe trailed off, trying to catch his breath.

“Yeah.”

“Feeling looser, princess?”

You let out a laugh as you climbed off of him, his cum dripping out of your pussy as you began to put your clothes on. “Something like that.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure we’re in a few photos together.”

You ignored the flutter in your stomach at his words, knowing that if a picture like that was used for the adverts, you’d forever have a reminder of today. 

[milkypopsims]

Sims 4 - Game not starting issue (PC user fix?)

I've been having issues recently with my sims 4 game not opening, went through many trial and error. I've seen some other people experience issues with this as well so I am posting this to try and help those figure out a solution and/or what has helped me.

(Please note - Mods are not an issue in this as I have done the testing with no mods active.)

First, I will list a number of things that can be a simple issue that does not cause you to delete files etc. One thing that I've noticed fixes it is to completely restart your pc every time before launching sims but that is not an ideal fix as it can do harm to your pc resetting it so often. It is always recommended to make a back up file of your sims folder so you don't lose any gameplay. (Learn how to back up your gameplay here.)

Check your antivirus & firewall and make sure nothing is blocking the sims. (It is never recommended to play with antivirus off, but turning it off to check if that is the issue can be a easy fix. If this is the issue you will have to go through some settings to allow sims 4 through your antivirus / firewall. (Possible help here.)

Make sure your drivers are updated. Depending on which drivers you use you need to check if the driver is needing updated. In my case I use NVIDIA drivers, so I use GeForce Experience to update my NVIDIA driver. If you use a different one you can google which you need to update your certain driver. (If you use NVIDIA, you can get GeForce Experience here to update your drivers.)

Make sure OneDrive is NOT syncing. (For some reason, this ruins the game.)

You can right click and try and run as administrator on EA app.

Delete EA, and do a clean install.

If you're still running into issues, like I was there is a few more things you can do to fix this issue. A quick (not permanent) fix I've found out is basically clearing EA cache. If you want a quick fix to be able to play the game and not have to reset your whole PC.

Open your EA app, in the top left navigate to those 3 line bars, from there go to help > app recovery. This will basically clear EA cache and restart the application.

Then, go to steam > go to your game library, and find Sims 4, right click > properties > installed files > verify integrity of game files. This will load for a moment, going through your steam files. Then you will force close the Steam application.

After doing all this, try opening your sims game and it should load up and be playable. Like i stated above this is not a permanent fix, but it works for me when nothing else is working.

Finally, I think I've come to an outcome on the issue. In the AppData files (which is in hidden files) there is a folder that is called "Origin" which was what Sims 4 used to run through before switching to EA, even if you've never downloaded Origin for sims, there is a large chance this file is in your PC and the cause of the game not opening.

Open hidden files so you can see the file to delete. (If you don't know how, I've included a Microsoft link here.)

Uninstall the EA app, and restart your PC.

Delete these folders: (AppData is a hidden folder, please do #1.) C:\Users\YOUR-USERNAME\AppData\Local\Electronic Arts C:\Users\YOUR-USERNAME\AppData\Local\EADesktop C:\Users\YOUR-USERNAME\AppData\Local\Origin (the top 2 might not be there if you uninstalled EA and restarted computer as said in #2, but be sure to delete the Origin folder.)

Empty trash

Reinstall EA app through the website - can be found here. If not all your installed games are visible then restart the client - this should populate the list. This should be a perm fix for the not opening issue, I hope this helps someone. xo, milky.

{credits to this post for the help on the resolution.}

[elpida]

𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐒 / 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄: Beth

𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐃𝐀𝐘: May 14th

𝐙𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐂 𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐍: Taurus (and dont people bloody know it)

𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓: 5ft 4”

𝐇𝐎𝐁𝐁𝐈𝐄𝐒: Writing, Crochet, Gaming, Drawing, Daydreaming about men twice my age xo

𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐑: Green specifically sage green or like dark emerald green, basically all the pastel colours, black.

𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊: Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo.

𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆: Chemtrails Over the Country Club, by Lana Del Rey.

𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐄 / 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐖: Outlander, been roped into it.

𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃: currently, nearly finished Ruthless Vows by Rebecca Ross. I loved the first one (Divine Rivals). I'm thinking Evocations by ST Gibson for the next.

𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: Music, Prompts, Tv Shows, My wild ass ansgty brain, fanfictions, Vibes.

𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘 𝐁𝐄𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐔𝐑𝐋: The word elpida is greek for 'hope' and i've both a huge love for greek mythology and i really like to think that one of my main muses is full of hope for something better in the future, or hope for anything. The word holds a lot of strength for them. One of my first 'best friends' was also called Hope and I like to think it serves as my reminder to forgive, no matter how hard I as the mun find that. 😊

𝐅𝐔𝐍 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐓: I am in fact a HUGE book lover, so anyone that doesn't have my on socials, I've quite a decent booktok account that does quite well for itself! I'm recently started getting arc copies of books, which are sent to individual readers before publication date :)

tagged by: @wiinestories (my love ❤️ i see you watching mad men, just want you to know i am eternally grateful for you actually. )

tagging: @wrathfulmercy (we both want you to do this ehehe) @homelander-rp-blog @fxcdboys ❤️anyone else who might want to do this!

[madame-fear]

Just to follow up she don't want trouble with you. She was told about your medical condition re: tremors she don't want to get into it w/ you over fandom shit of all things and stress you out. She knows she should not go on the offense like that without being full facts and also heeding anons.

She should have reported them instead of lashing out. She struggled w/ suicidal ideation pre COVID so the anons saying that kind of thing before and after the posts really ragged her out. No excuse for her behavior but still. The only thing I say in her favour is she will say it to your face straight up and not on anon or burner accounts. I'm kinda worried there's people around you saying to people to kill themselves etc so I don't know take care. Or it's maybe just people trolling or trying to cause trouble. It's worrying

I ain't gonna bother you again on this cos she's been balled out but she backed off on her own before we spoke to her. xo

Hello nonnie! I really appreciate your messages. I know you sent another one just recently and I didn’t get to answer it or properly read it, now I reloaded the inbox page like 3 times but your message isn’t showing up again for some reason, apologies. 🙈

I agree on what you said, about she having to report the anons instead of lashing out— but I also understand that some things, especially when you receive lots of bad anon messages, can be extremely overwhelming. I suffered from severe suicidal ideations as well, and I can also understand why these messages made her lash out this way.

I can only offer my most sincere apologies if I, in any way, offended her without knowing either things properly; I did try to be as polite as I could, but still, I’m sorry for any possible stress too. I don’t want any more troubles with anyone either, so we are even. I deleted one of my previous posts, and I will not touch things any further.

I feel extremely worried now as well, I don’t want anyone thinking they can go over there causing trouble over nothing, nor trolls, nor people I know (or followers) going around telling people to kill themselves— honestly it’s the LEAST of things I want, and I would feel extremely outraged at the situation. I guess it’s time to take care with our surroundings.

I hope she’s doing well, and I apologise for every single mean person that could have overwhelmed her this way. Thank you for having the kindness to explain, nonnie. ♡

[curiositydooropened]

WIP Wednesday - Teaser - Neighbors

Synopsis: When two new handsome boys move next door, you feel it's a gift from the Universe. At least, you do until both of them are vying for your attention and you have to choose between them.

A/N: Steve x Reader AND Eddie x Reader??? Yeah duh, I had to. This is the most recent plot bunny I've been chasing. We'll see where it takes me and how dark I go with it. xo

---

They moved in on a scorcher. It was one of those mornings where you couldn’t close your windows fast enough to trap in the evening breeze. You woke with hair sticking to your temples, night shirt stuck to the small of your back, and you started the day with an ice-cold shower. You ate your cereal dry, as to not release any cold from the fridge, and headed out the door in your scrubs just like every other Wednesday, wallet and car keys in hand. Only, when you opened your door to the concrete walkway and rickety wrought iron railing, you didn’t expect to be trapped in your doorway by a passing sectional being manhandled by a bunch of children. 

“Oh, hey!” A curly hair one greeted, nearly dropping an ottoman in front of your door. “Steve, Eddie! Your new neighbor’s a nurse!” He offered no information about himself, just followed the sweatshop assembly line into 11’s open door. 

You snorted, and didn’t bother correcting him, exiting quickly during a gap in furniture big enough to allow you to lock your door and skip down the staircase toward your car. A U-haul took up most of the lot, and you found your car wedged between it and a stoner van, but surveying the space between guaranteed you could twenty-point-turn your way out of it. Plus, the moving van had provided a little shade, so maybe the black interior of your car wouldn’t yet be a mid-morning sauna. 

“Oh, shit, didn’t realize we were blocking you in,” someone called out, and you turned to find a rather handsome young man, probably close to your age. He had a mess of brown hair, kind eyes, freckles, and his Hawkins High School Basketball t-shirt had darkened with sweat in the center of his broad chest and under the arms. He fished keys from the pockets of his Levis and jingled them at you. “Hold on a sec, I’ll back up.”

You smiled, intrigued, wondering if he, or one of the myriad of children, were your new neighbor. Cletus moved out months ago, and you had that little corner of your balcony to yourself. You supposed the nights of scenic balcony gazing were over. Or, if this guy was your neighbor, maybe not. 

You let yourself into your car, sputtering at the warmth the truck hadn’t shielded as hoped, and cranked your windows down. You watched in the rearview as the handsome stranger backed up enough to let you through, someone flagging him onto the entrance road from the back corner of the truck, a woman with an equally sweaty t-shirt, hair tucked under a ball cap. You tutted. Maybe neighbor boy shouldn’t be oggled after all. 

You rolled up beside the truck and waved in thanks, but the driver leaned himself out the window, all charming smile and shiny cheeks. 

“Sorry about that.” 

“Don’t be,” you waved him off, hands sticky against your steering wheel. 

“Is that your usual parking spot?” He pointed from whence you came.

You shrugged with a laugh. “They aren’t assigned, but yeah, I’ve been parking there.” 

“Well, I promise it’ll be empty when you get back.”

You bit back that kicking in your stomach and nodded. “It better.” And with that, you headed off to work. You couldn’t wait to tell Alejandra all about him. 

—

Work had been miserable. You’d been sent to three different stores to get ice, and of course they were out. Dogs were hosed down and put under wet blankets under tables to keep cool. Kennels were filling up fast as people tried to save animals from the heat. You’d ended up working hours later your shift, just for an extra set of caring hands, and, if you were being honest, to keep away from a sweltering apartment. 

The sun had dipped too low in the sky on your way home, kissing the horizon in blood reds and blurring your vision. The visor in your car was broken, and you had both windows rolled down for some semblance of air flow, but your back and ass still stuck to the seat. You pulled into a drive-thru behind a long line of cars and shut off the radio, listening only to the low, lazy buzz of crickets and air conditioners working over time. 

The ice cream machine was broken, because of course it was, but you treated yourself to a Coke and a large French fry, from which you picked nearly to the bottom on the rest of your drive home. And when you arrived, the drink was so satisfying pressed to the space between your breasts as you carried your haul up the rickety staircase to your apartment. 

Your fast food bag nearly flew from your fingertips when you summited the staircase to find a man leaning against your railing. He had a spindly frame, but broad shoulders, hunched over the bannister with his arms crossed and a cigarette dangling between two fingers. He wore a cut-off black t-shirt, which exposed pale, pale skin down his ribcage and a plethora of tattoos down his left bicep. His long, dark hair had been pulled back into a scraggly ponytail. 

You coughed to make yourself known. If you startled him like he had you, he might go toppling off the second story.

It half-worked. He was mid drag and stumbled a little at your sound. He sputtered and coughed, shoving his cigarette into a makeshift ashtray, and when he turned to see you, he was waving away smoke as it exited his nostrils. “Fuck, I mean shit, I mean, Jesus Christ.”

“Sorry,” you chuckled, fishing your keys from beneath your paper bag of fried food. 

“No, I’m sorry. I promise I’ll never smoke again, or at least never when your windows are open. It’s just been a long day. It’s a disgusting habit.” He rambled. “I just moved in, uh… Eleven? That’s me.” So this was Neighbor Boy. Interesting.

---

This is just a teaser, fic to come soon, but feel free to come talk to me about it! If you're interested in reading more of my work, masterlist is in my bio. xo

[here2bbtstrash]

SCREAAAMMMMIINNNNGGGG!!!!!

BABE????

OMG i am so happy for you!!!! You found your human!! You moved to a better place??? You're doing well???? oh my GOD

I am SO beyond happy for you!!!

I hope you are having the most magical time and that you know we will always wait for you when and if needed.

I'm truly so happy you are in a better place then you were with better people. You deserve so much in this world <3

xo,

Yoon

OMGGGGG hi yoon my love 🥺 I KNOW!!!! CAN WE EVEN BELIEVE IT!!!! the coldhearted bitch herself somehow got melted 💀 as much upheaval as i navigated this year, it honestly feels like it was all worth it to end up where i have, and i'd go through it all again if it meant i would be at this place. i feel so blessed to be surrounded by amazing people and in a city i adore. after watching bangtan step into their own "chapter two", it really feels like a new chapter for me too 🥺

thank you so much for your kind words, truly, omg 😭 it makes me so happy to see you and so many other familiar faces on the dash!!! i've heard tumblr has been a little quiet in recent months, and i'm more than ready to wake this bitch back up 🤣 let the chaos begin!!!! 👹

[actual-sleeping-beauty]

bestie i have a q for you - most quoteable thing you've heard recently at work: go 💜

also just gotta say i hope you have a great day and i appreciate all your unhinged messages so much even if i take 34792387489237 years to reply x

ugh unfortunately the residents haven't been super quotable lately. one did ask me while i was working christmas eve whether anyone would be working on christmas day and i was like, "no????" she responded, "well you still have to work on christmas." and i was like, "no, it's a federal holiday?????" to which she replied, "well i've had jobs where i had to work on christmas," and i just went, "okay, but susan, this is a part time receptionist job."

xo