#how do you find the drive to do such a cool project i love this

[https-lvesick]

CAUGHT ON CAMERA — starring f!reader x na jaemin (ft. jeno and haechan, the perverts)

jeno and haechan know they can always count on their best friend, jaemin, and that's why they borrow his camera for a project. they just didn't expect to get the wrong camera... and enjoy every second of it.

content 𖹭 jaem!big dick, sex tape (size diff, breeding, stomach bulge, fingering, slight nipple sucking, m!oral + cum eating), m!masturbation

notes 𖹭 another big thanks for my baby @sinisxtea for proofreading this!

it wasn't unusual to see na jaemin walking around the campus carrying a camera and photographing everything he found cool. the devoted photography student had an unique artistic view, in his mind, anything could be turned into art. ordinary objects, situations and even some students were his objects of art, but there was only one thing, precious enough to worth his devotion: you. jaemin's object of adoration. he was so committed to you and to show the beauty of every single thing you'd do, he bought a camera exclusively for you.

that camera was special. It could only support videos and photos of you. you could be doing anything. playing with stray cats, eating, painting your nails, putting on some makeup, but his favourite moments were the intimate ones.

jaemin just... he couldn't handle your preciousness. in every aspect, he felt the need, the urge to capture and keep your beauty. especially when you put on a little show just to show him your new lingerie set. or maybe when you were choking with his cock down your throat, your makeup smudged all over your face. fuck... he could list every video that the camera had ever captured.

and knowing how committed, na jaemin, a third-year photography student, was to his major, donghyeok, his roommate, thought he could borrow one of his cameras for a project.

“did you even ask him for it, you dumbass? what if he took his camera with him?” jeno comments, leaning on the door frame, watching his friend search for one of the most valuable items for jaemin.

“wasn't he just driving his girl home? why does he need a camera for that?” the younger cusses, messing with jaemin's drawer.

“sure, but you know how in love he is and how he just keeps anything she does.” jeno rolls his eyes, almost giving up on convincing his friend to find an object he didn't even ask permission to use.

“finally!” donghyeok laid his eyes on something deep in the closet. he takes the camera and closes the doors.

“i still think that's the worst idea you've ever had. what if jaemin sees a picture of you there? especially if it's on the camera that, again, was deep in his closet.” jeno emphasizes his last words, trying to knock some sense into his friend, but knowing he wouldn't listen, he just adds: “at least check to see if it's charged.”

“that's what i'm trying to do...” donghyeok says focused. the two guys were already sitting in the corner of jaemin's bed. he turned the camera on and you are the first thing they saw, wearing a flowy light blue dress. jaemin and you were on a date and you were showing how to make your boyfriend's favourite sandwich. “how can someone be so pretty...” he murmurs, sighing.

“i don't know...” jeno says, letting himself get lost at the sound of your voice and how your beaming smile could lighten up his whole day. honestly, they can get where all of jaemin's adoration comes from. if he had a girlfriend like you, he'd also keep every single moment to himself. then he realized what he was thinking. “but she's our best friend's girlfriend, right? the camera is fully charged, we can see it, then c'mon.” he stands up, but donghyeok immediately pulls him to sit again.

“c'mon jen, we're already here. this might be the camera he dedicated to her. don't you wanna see more of this... damn sculpture? you sure?” the younger lee skips some photos and videos, stopping at a video where you're wearing a bikini. you were laughing with jaemin while taking off your sundress, talking about going to the water. the focus goes all to your ass, while you walk to the water and they can hear jaemin's mischievous laugh along with a perverted comment.

they knew it wasn't cool to desire their best friend's girlfriend, but were they the ones to blame when you looked that pretty? you looked like some fancy masterpiece sculpted by michelangelo in his peak of inspiration. are they the ones to blame when you looked like aprodithe's daughter yourself, being allowed to live among those poor and useless human beings, gifting them your graciousness? you must be the girl of every guy's dream and they're lucky to have a best friend good enough to win a lotto. at least they get to see you often.

as donghyeok passed the videos, the two guys found themselves more and more immersed in you. and jaemin is completely right to be obsessed with you.

“holy fuck...” haechan whispers, licking his lips before biting his lower lip. jeno comes closer, eyes wide open when he notices what's happening on the video.

“come here.” Jaemin's voice is heard and you comply. you crawl to the corner of the bed, where your boyfriend was, and sit still.

you were wearing an expensive lingerie set that was driving not only one, but three men crazy. the bra hugged your breasts so prettily that they wondered if they'd fit that good in their hands.

“nana... your cock...” you let out a whiny plea. almost purring like a cat. your sparkling eyes, begging your boyfriend to stop flauting you to the camera and to let you suck on him.

it's not that hard to deduce that jaemin may have been lowering his pants.

“haechan, enough.” jeno warns, trying to be rational, but yet his eyes were glued on the little screen that was showing you, kitty licking jaemin's tip, teasing him. you were even rubbing his cock between your breasts, slobbering on it.

“fuck it, he's not here to see what we're doing.” donghyeok says in a low voice, holding the camera in one hand, as the other was lowering his shorts.

“haechan, what the fuck!” the older lee exclaims, completely shocked with his friend's attitude.

“jeno, if you don't wanna stay, then leave. and you better don't open that fucking mouth of yours to jaemin.” he spits on his palm, before dragging it along his shaft, lubricating his length. “but you can't deny the obvious.” haechan laughs, looking at jeno’s pants, before turning his full attention to the video.

jaemin's hand was guiding your head, sucking him off as if it was your life goal. you sucked his tip, forcing your tongue on his slit, making your boyfriend cuss, and squeeze lightly his full balls. he's so fucking good at what he's doing, and so are you. shortly after, he's pulling your hair, prying you off of his cock.

“open that pretty mouth of yours, huh?” he asks, jerking off right on your mouth. In a matter of few seconds, you can taste his salty cum on your tongue and you swallow when he spills more on your boobs.

jeno was standing, thinking about this whole situation. he looked at his friend having fun and looks at his own problem, getting more uncomfortable. the way donghyeok looked so satisfied watching whatever was happening on the screen awakened his interest and desire. fuck, she was his best friend's girlfriend, but... she was fucking pretty and when would he get any opportunity like that again?

“this might be harassment or something like that…” he mumbles, retaking his place beside his friend and frees his cock out of his pants. jeno could see haechan's mischievous smile, so he said first: “don't you even get started, you nasty dog.” even with that said, donghyeok didn't seem very offended, after all, who is he to say anything?

by this time you were already laying in bed, your legs spread for jaemin and the camera, consequently, the two perverts watching that. your glistening cunt gushing your juices, while your boyfriend collected every drop of it with his long fingers, teasing your slit.

“how many?” jaemin asks, threatening to insert the tip of two of his fingers, but never doing it.

“three, nana…” you whine, biting your lower lip, watching your boyfriend smile and tease you, the same way you'd do to him. that's until he inserts the three fingers you requested, all at once.

haechan was sure that sweet, languid, moan would linger in his mind forever. jeno, on the other hand, was sure he will never be able to look at his friend and his girlfriend again. he'd rather throw himself off of the window. as soon as he cums.

with each movement of jaemin's fingers, the wet squelching sound could be heard. it made your eyes roll while jeno and haechan make it an opportunity to fasten their own movements. jeno gulps, looking straight at your wet hole, salivating. fuck, he imagines how good it must be to feel you. he's sure you're tight and nice to be inside of. he tighten his grip, forcing his cock on a tighter hole. haechan also salivates, watching how good you take jaemin's fingers. he stops his hand's movements, thrusting his hips up, imagining it was your pussy he was fucking.

jaemin takes his fingers out of you and the boys could suppose what he was doing. he was tasting you on his own fingers. haechan curses, caressing his balls, and closes his eyes, catching his lower lip between his teeth. jeno slows his rhythm, tracing his fingers along his abs.

your boyfriend hovers over you and kisses you. his free hand traces your body, searching for your bra's clasp, undoing it. you discard the piece, feeling jaemin's wet kisses on your skin, and then you feel his plump lips wrapping around your nipple. you shiver feeling your boyfriend's warm tongue, hugging him.

“jaem…” you call, almost like crying, and jaemin smiles against your skin, understanding well your wish. he pulls the mound of flesh between his teeth making you hiss.

“how could i deny you?” he mocks and stands up, taking off his pants. when he resumes his position above you, he rests his cock on your tummy.

and that's when they realize how smaller than jaemin you are.

“no fucking way! this won't fit, no shit.” donghyeok smiled, clearly having fun. “this might be better than some cheap ass porn i've ever watched in my life.” his eyes lighten up with excitement. jeno only nods, lost in pleasure.

jaemin rubs his tip on your slit, forcing himself slowly. “no matter how many times i fuck you... will you ever open enough for me, darling?” he growls, getting even further inside you.

“jaem, it's too big!” you whine, gripping the bed sheets and closing your eyes, arching your back.

for a moment, your boobs shake and donghyeok loves it, almost losing it. he considers replay that part, but maybe another time, when he's alone.

when jaemin is fully inside you and the bulge is perfectly visible, jeno cums with a grunt. haechan laughs, teasing his friend. “good job, jen! hit it that fast?”

“shut the fuck up, lee donghyeok.” jeno grits his teeth. the truth is, jeno has a thing for bulge. it was the first thing he searched for when he was trying to relieve some stress. it was the first thing he thought when getting laid and now... knowing you were so small that a bulge was surely made on your belly made him see stars.

jaemin moves. starts slow, helping you get used to his size, even if you had done it plenty of times before, he was too big for you, no matter how many times when you were fucked by him, but then he picks up his pace. his hand presses the bulge on your stomach for a while, before gripping your thigh. his rhythm is rough, intense, so much that it makes your breasts move at each snap of his hips. and haechan felt like he was in heaven.

your moans starts to get more desperate and high-pitched. you call your boyfriend's name like a mantra while resting one of your hands on his stomach. jaemin doesn't stop, only picking up his pace, getting even rougher. he feels your pussy gripping his cock, identifying your orgasm. your eyes roll to the back of your skull and your mouth remains wide open for a while until you feel it dry, feeling jaemin squirting all of his seed inside of you.

“you fine, love?” he asks, slowing down his pace, only so you can come down off your high. you can just nod.

jaemin finally turns his camera, focusing right where your bodies meet. he thrusts a few more times, before getting out of you. the moment his cum is seen dripping out of you like a cascade is when haechan loses it, cumming with a whiny moan.

jaemin says something else, but the boys could care less, so donghyeok turns off the camera, putting it on the bed. jeno and haechan remain in silence for a moment.

“this might be the best thing my eyes have ever seen.” “that must be the gayest thing i've ever done.” they say at the same time.

“what?” haechan says.

“c'mon, i saw your cock. plus, i had to hear you moan like a whore. i'm getting insane…” jeno stands up angry, covering his dick again.

“oh, right, 'cause you moan like an alpha, huh?” the younger lee also stands up, bringing the camera with him.

“where do you think you're going with this, haechan?” jeno questions, watching his friend walk past him with the camera in hands.

“if you think i'm not enjoying this pretty little thing right here while i can, you're stupid. and you better not to try and jerk off with me. once was enough.” he says, leaving the room and an astonished jeno behind.

poor jeno, little does he know that haechan won't only watch. maybe he can upload some videos too. seeing jaemin's cock was a little price to pay when he was able to see all of you, spread and wet again.

[rlimagi]

Only Hers

Pairing: Princess Red x Reader

Requested?: Yes!

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: jealousy?

Being born into the royal life, you’ve always been loved and spoilt rotten especially by your parents and older brother, Ben.

Ever since you were a child, kids would follow you around school, invite you to playdates and birthdays, some would even give you their own piggy bank just for a chance to have your attention.

That never changed even when you started high school at Auradon Prep, a school where other royals or kids of famous figures attended and yet, you were still always the center of their attention.

But today you were not because everyone seemed to avoid you like the plague whenever Red’s by your side and you had no idea why. When you were alone, some people were less wary but still, many of them were afraid to even breathe near you today.

It was driving you a bit crazy because you were sure you hadn’t done anything bad that could cause them to react such a way.

One time you tried to approach a classmate to ask her about your group project and she looked at you in horror before running off.

You weren’t sure why because everyone was extremely friendly with you all year. You would often find love letters in your lockers, you never had to carry your own books because boys and girls would wait outside of your class just to hold them for you to your other classes, one girl even made you a chocolate statue of yourself for your birthday.

None of the people mentioned even dared to look at you in the eyes today. It felt extremely weird since you were used to having everybody’s eyes on you and on Valentine’s Day too, something wasn’t adding up.

But then it all added up when you saw Red scaring away a group of girls who were trying to sneak love letters into your locker. Your eyes followed her actions as she threw their letters away before looking around her surroundings.

You decided that it was your time to shine as she pulled a sparkly pink envelope out of her bag, looking oddly suspicious.

“What have you got there?” You skillfully sneaked behind her and whispered in her ear as she was about to slip it into your locker.

Red became as still as a rock when you whispered in her ears before turning around awkwardly, her cheeks flushed in embarrassment after you caught her looking like a deer caught in headlights.

“Nothing!“ Red blurted out awkwardly as she ripped the pretty envelope behind her back and tried to discreetly throw it into the bin beside her.

“Hmm…” A playful smirk rose on your lips as you eyed her up and down in suspicion before pretending to play along.

“If you say so.” You muttered before leaning against one of the lockers beside Red. You knew that Red was clearly hiding something by how weird and awkward she was, and you will definitely get it out of her.

Thankfully, you took acting lessons when you were younger because you were interested in plays and now you will use your skills to play her.

Without another second wasted, you put on an act. Sighing deeply, you looked at Red with the most innocent expression you could muster up. “Anyways, have you seen how people have been all weird with me today? I mean, today is Valentine’s Day and my locker is usually flooded with gifts but today people have been avoiding me…”

You looked at Red and noticed how she was trying to keep her cool and nodding at everything you say. “Really? What’s up with them?”

“Oh, I don’t know…is there something wrong with me? I mean did you hear any rumors about me?” You acted frustrated and ran your fingers through your hair to sell your act. It’s something you’d only do when you’re stressed out and Red clearly knew that.

“N-No way! I mean no, I haven’t heard anything…it’s probably nothing!” Red stumbled over her words as she waved her hands around.

“I don’t think it’s nothing but I’ll take your word for it.” You shook your head, looking awfully upset before patting Red on the shoulder before walking away from your target.

You knew Red wouldn’t confess at that moment, but you knew she would crack eventually as you continued your act.

The next few days you continued with your act but Red didn’t give up either but you finally had enough and didn’t want it to drag on longer than it should.

After school was over, you went knocking on her door looking like you were about to cry. Of course you weren’t really that sad about people being too afraid to be near you, but you had to be dramatic or else you wouldn’t be able to get to Red.

You jumped straight onto her bed as soon as she let you in. You quickly made yourself comfortable because Red had the softest blankets, an excuse you usually used when you want to sleep over in her room.

Red’s eyebrows furrowed in worry as she laid down right next to you, she had never seen you so upset before since you were usually so chirpy. “Are you okay?”

Your frown grew deeper as you shook your head before reaching for both of her hands, looking at her straight in the eyes. “Red, be honest with me. Am I not pretty anymore? Have I been eating too much lately? Rate me out of a 1 to 10, how annoying am I? Maybe I should go on a d-“

“Wait stop! What are you talking about? Did somebody say something to you?” Red frowned, looking extremely worried but also angry at the thought that someone might be talking about you in that way. You’re a confident girl and had always held yourself up high so it wasn’t like you at all.

Red had always been protective over you but most of the time she acted as if she didn’t care about you. One time you saw her beating up a a guy for looking at you the wrong way but then acted like everything was okay when you asked her about her bruised fists.

“No, not that I know of at least. It’s just that people have been afraid to talk to me since Valentines and I don’t know what I did wrong!” You exclaimed in frustration as tears fell down onto your cheeks. They weren’t real tears of course, you used eye drops right before you went into Red’s room to make it more convincing.

Red’s gaze soften as she leaned over to wipe your tears away. “You didn’t do anything wrong…” Her voice trailed off as she continued to stare at you intensely, she held a guilty look but you could see that she was fighting with herself on whether to confess what she had done or not.

You shook your head before hiding your face in your hands. “No- I must’ve have done something.”

Red’s mind was flooded with guilt as she felt even more uncomfortable the more she continued to watch you cry. And it was all because of her and her jealousy.

The princess of Wonderland had never felt loved before so she never understood what that word meant or what it felt like.

When she first met you, she was skeptical because you were so nice and everything about you seemed so right that it felt wrong to her.

But eventually, her cold heart warmed up and then she grew to love every part of you and everything you did felt so right to her.

She loved being around you, whether you were busy doing something else, talking to someone else, or just doing nothing at all. Being around you made her feel all sorts of things, her heart beat would go faster, there was some sort of fluttery feeling in her stomach, and she could never stop her self from smiling at you.

The feelings were new to her and she didn’t understand why her blood pressure would rise up whenever she sees a guy try to flirt with you. Or when another girl gave you flowers and chocolate, you seemed so happy accepting those. Red hated that she wasn’t the reason of your smile that day.

One thing led to another, she began scaring away your admires whenever they tried to get close. Red made sure you wouldn't find out because she wasn't sure why she had done what she did in the first place. Red wouldn't have an answer if you asked her why.

But then she saw how terribly upset you were and all she wanted to do was confess. Red wanted to be the reason of your smile and yet, she was the cause of your tears that day.

"You didn't do anything...I did.”

You were fighting not to smile when she spoke up. “What happened?” You asked, looking at her in confusion as you watched her bit her lips in discomfort.

“People were avoiding you because I scared them away.” Red sighed, clearly not proud of what she did but she would totally do it again if she had to.

You continued to put up your confused act, taking her hands into yours you looked at Red straight in the eyes. “But why did you scare them away, Red?”

“I didn’t like it when people flirted with you or walk you down the hallway, I didn’t like them being around you at all.” Red grew irritated just by the thought of other people getting too close to you for her likings. You weren’t her property but she couldn’t help but feel possessive.

“Why don’t you like them? Did they do something?” You already knew the answer but you just wanted Red to admit it herself. You knew how proud she could be sometimes so she just needed a little push.

Red was frustrated with herself for not getting straight to the point but she was afraid by how you might react when she did.

“They didn’t do anything…I scared them off because I was jealous-“ Red stood up, her heart was beating so much faster than usual, her palms were sweaty, and she couldn’t look at you in the eye.

“And I also threw away love letters from your admires- It was wrong of me but I couldn’t control myself and I think I was feeling that way because I really like you.” Red confessed, she stopped pacing around to look at your reaction but there was none.

You stayed silence for a few seconds, but it felt like hours to Red. She was waiting you to say something but you didn’t until you eventually broke into laughers when you couldn’t contain yourself any longer.

“Wait, hold on. Why are you laughing, I’m being serious.” Red frowned, her thoughts were all over the place. Maybe it was a bad idea to confess to you after all. Fortunately, you stopped laughing after a while but you were still grinning ear to ear.

“Oh I know, Red. I just find your reaction adorable.” You chuckled before patting on empty place on the bed, gesturing Red to sit next to you.

Red’s cheek reddened at your subtle compliment but she was still as confused as ever. “Why don’t you look surprised?”

A smug smile grew on your face. “Because I‘m not. I caught you stopping a group of girls from touching my locker the other day, and you weren’t being very subtle these past few days.”

“Then, why didn’t you say anything?” Red asked in pure confusion as she sat back down on the bed, next to where you were.

“I wanted you to admit it yourself.” You shrugged, leaning forward before poking her cheek gently.

“Plus, you’re very adorable when you’re jealous.”

“I really want to feed you to the jabberwockies right now.” Red rolled her eyes and slapped your fingers away when you tried to poke her cheek again. “Stop poking my cheek!”

You giggled as you retreated your hand away from her face. Then, you moved to sit right in front of her, trying to get her to make eye contact with you but she was avoiding them at all cost. “You’re very romantic, Red. Is this what you should say to your girlfriend?”

“Girlfriend?” Red finally stopped glaring at the sheets and immediately whipped her head to face yours in shock, a pink tinge spread across her cheeks.

“Do you not want us to be?” You asked in a teasing matter, a smug smirk still laid on your lips as you watched Red blushed even harder as she tried to come up with words to reply.

“Yes! No! I mean, I do…want us to be girlfriends.”

Red watched as your smile grew wider when she finally said those words. The thought of you and her dating had been on her mind since forever, it felt great when it became a reality.

“May I?”

Red’s breath hitched when you leaned close to her face, your noses were nearly touching as you held her chin so gently and asked for permission to kiss her.

Red nodded, her heart continued to beat so fast she felt like it could explode as your lips finally touched hers. She had never kissed anyone, so she didn’t know what it should feel like, but what she did know was that you made her want to capture the moment and relive it forever.

After you both pulled away, Red was finally aware of her surroundings and immediately grabbed the closest pillow before using it to hide her face so you wouldn’t see how red she was.

“I didn’t know you’re the shy type.” You chuckled before taking away the pillow from her hands before moving it away so you could see her pretty face.

“Shut up.” Red rolled her eyes, trying to seem annoyed but the smile on her face told you otherwise. “And you seem experienced, have you kissed anyone else before?”

You immediately froze at her question before laughing awkwardly, trying to avoid her gaze.

“Uh, next question!”

[de4dlyniightshade]

I’d really just like to request your most feral Spencer Reid headcanons. SFW, NSFW, raunchy, tame - whatever. Just your like “I will fight anyone who disagrees, they are fact” type headcanons.

(Because I reread all your headcanons and love every single one)

I BEEN WAITING ON SOMEONE ASKING THIS! i've also just been meaning to make a hc post.

i was gonna split them into nsfw and sfw but they just ended up all mixed together 0-0

submissive and breedable spencer truther til i fucking die i'll get him pregnant don't play with me.

loves messy kisses like spit running down his chin, tongues down each others throat, desperately gripping at each other type of kisses.

maybe just me projecting and taking what mgg said as gospel truth but i fully believe that spencer loves a curvy woman, not even just for sexual reasons he also loves to rest his head on a nice big pair of boobs or thighs.

speaking of, boob guy! shamefully, but still a boob guy! adores groping your boobs whenever he can and would have your boob in his mouth 24/7 if he could, has literally fallen asleep with his head under your shirt and your nipple in his mouth.

munch! like the biggest munch ever, loves nothing more than coming home from a long day and burying his face between your thighs or having you ride his face.

knows full well that toys are his teammate and not his competitors and has no insecurities about you using toys on yourself or owning any.

does not care how well groomed you are, if you asked him what he preferred he'd be like??? it's literally none of my business???

needs lots of reassurance during sex, he just likes to know that he's doing good and making you feel good throughout the whole thing.

doesn't like talking about his sex life, especially with derek, no matter how hard he pressed and pries spencer wont let anything but the bare minimum out.

i imagine he's more drawn to a commanding woman, someone who will take the lead and teach him because of his inexperience and finds that he actually loves being dominated and hardly has any desire to dominate you.

really vocal! even though i've already said it like twice he just is, i can feel it in my bones, he's just such a whiny little baby and can't help but moan loudly any time you're touching him.

is completely against the idea of road head until you do it while you're on a long drive and it both changes his life and almost ends it bcs he swerved into the other lane which was luckily empty.

still gets shy when you kiss him in front even the team even years down the line.

learns to cook so he can make you breakfast whenever you're staying at his apartment.

on the same lines, lovesss morning sex, just that feeling of not wanting to get out your warm bed into the cold air, savouring the warmth in the best way possible.

had no idea what queefing was real until it happened and he was like genuinely so fascinated rather than disgusted.

i feel like spencer would own a bird for sure, not just bcs of gideon but he did help him realise how cool birds are which made him get one, probably a cockatiel or parrotlet with some silly name like dave.

all bark, no bite. likes to act a big game in front of others but the second you're alone he's begging and calling you mommy.

loves nothing more than waking up before you, pressing a kiss to your forehead before carefully and quietly getting out of bed to make you breakfast with the intention of bringing it to you but when you wake up before him and sneak up behind him to wrap your arms around his waist he can't help but melt.

very open to experimenting further down the line, anything you want to try he'll try at least once, except for blindfolds on himself, would be completely open to blindfolding you though.

loves public touching, not outright sex but he'd love when you subtly brush your hand over his crotch or take a handful of his ass in a public place.

teaches you how to knit and cries when you actually make him something like a sweater or even just a hat bcs he realises that's why you wanted to learn in the first place.

can't ride a bike.(this is definitely me projecting bcs i can't but i just feel like he can't okay)

lana enjoyer!!! especially if you are, he just wants to understand all the things you love and if you love lana so does he, he'd love to hear you ramble about your favourite songs and would take note of them and listen to them asap and tell you he loves them even if he didn't like some that much bcs he loves how happy it makes you.

wouldn't want to introduce you to his mother too soon but if you ended up meeting her by chance he'd be sweating buckets in case you didn't get along but you two just bond over your adoration for him and he's just so happy about it.

probably took a while to warm up to physical touch in the beginning bcs of his germophobia but when he finally does he regrets not doing it sooner.

washes his hands every single time before touching you sexually, not even for his benefit, he just wants to be as safe as possible with you.

loves elvis and almost proposes on the spot when you offer to dance with him to can't help falling in love, secretly sheds a few tears while you waltz around his apartment in your pyjamas.

okay i've definitely left stuff out that i've thought of but this is long asf so i'll leave it there😭

[sameschmidtdiffname]

Hey I love your work so much!!

I was thinking of maybe a Mike Schmidt x reader where the reader is all like “I’m not good enough for you, I don’t deserve you” stuff and then like Mike makes it up to the reader to show them that they are more than enough 🫶

Sure, but it's gonna hurt!

Blue Sunrise

Mike Schmidt x Gender Neutral! Reader

Summery: All is well, yet you aren't. A fact that disturbs and irritates you so, even if it shouldn't.

Tags: No use of Y/N, no use of gendered pronouns for Reader, SFW with brief mentions of smut, pre-established relationship, set during the movie but that's honestly not very relevant, hurt/comfort, Reader and Mike both have PTSD, this isn't projection, bed rotting, depression, self-loathing, night terrors/nightmares, panic attacks, sleep deprivation, mentions of medication, lack of self care, slight self-harm (scratching), breakdown, nosebleed.

Notes: *in sonic snapcube dub voice* heyyyyyyyyyyyy what's upppppppppppppp it's meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee (STOP!!)

                     ▪︎◇{¤♧■♧¤}◇▪︎

6:34 A.M.

The dawn is gentle, the sky a soft blue behind the thin, cheap blinds that cover the bedroom window not that far in front of me. If I wanted, I could get up and open the window, revealing the surely beautiful and gorgeous sunrise that waits for me just outside the blinds.

But I don't. And I won't.

Birds sing gently outside, waking up and fliting about here and there. It's my favorite part of the day, quite frankly. When I can, I open the window to allow in the fresh, cool air, moist with the morning dew, unmuffling the bird's songs as I drift off to sleep, my schedule mostly in tune with Mike's for his night shift. Sometimes I manage to stay awake to greet him when he returns home. It's always nice when I do. His smile is lazy, his strides long and slow as he makes his way to the bed, peeling off his work clothes and crawling under the covers with me. Sometimes he'll press himself against me, his lips finding my neck as his hand dives between my thighs, his fingers trained on one goal as he murmurs against my skin how much he's missed me. Sometimes I wake to this.

There's a part of me that wishes he'd do this today just so I wouldn't have to think.

The lock on the front door rattles as someone attempts to insert a key into the hole. It doesn't matter how long he's lived here or how he uses those keys every morning, he still takes a moment to make sure he's using the right one, and on the first try he usually isn't. So it takes him a solid minute to unlock the door and enter the house. If we had dogs, they'd surely drive us insane from his routine. It slightly drives me insane already. But I'm technically not even supposed to be awake, so I never mention it.

When Mike finally enters the house, the first thing I hear after the satisfying break of the doors seal ringing throughout the living room is a deep sigh as Mike's backpack lands in front of the coat rack. He should be quieter about setting it down. I would be. But I think he assumes we should be so deep in sleep it really wouldn't matter, and it honestly doesn't make much noise. Just a slightly dull 'thud' against the thinly carpeted floor.

Next I can hear his car keys land in the bowl they're meant for. Again, he's a bit too loud with it all. At least, while people are sleeping. But it's not really a bother. In a way, I like it. It gives me a routine to memorize, his sounds before he'll trail to our room and come press himself against me.

The rocking recliner creeks softly as he sits in it, lazily undoing the laces on his boots before he tosses them towards the coat rack. And next he'll duck his head into the fridge I'm sure and look for the leftovers I put into a big bowl for him to warm up - which he won't, because he's a psychopath who likes cold food. - and then when my alarm goes off, he'll come to wake me up, rising from the old couch where he's very quietly reading his book while he eats and do whatever he has to do to prevent me from slipping back into sleep. He's very good at that job. Especially when he uses his tongue.

But today there's a break in the routine. Today, his footsteps are padding towards our room, the door quietly opening as he slips in. I can hear him let out a soft sigh as he tugs on his hoodie, pulling it off and then discarding of his jeans, which muffle the clack of his belt buckle as he slips them off. Left in his undershirt and boxers, he crosses the room to open the blinds and the window, letting in the fresh air and leaning against the thin windowstill for a moment. Now, I can see him.

He looks rested, a little more than he should for having just finished a night shift. I keep telling him he's going to get fired, but he always wiggles his way out of that conversation. The bags usually under his eyes aren't too deep this morning, which while problematic is relieving. His skin is pale blue from the dawns light that pours into the room. His dark curls are more thick on the top of his head, clumped together from him not brushing them after his shower. He must've used too much conditioner, because his hair also looks thicker than it usually does. The breeze blows his oversized pale blue shirt against his chest as he leans forward, allowing his eyes to close as he takes in a deep breath. It feels like an overly private moment. Like I've intruded by watching him. I don't see him like this much when he isn't alone. When he's with me or Abby, he's alert. Somewhat on guard. It's like he's watching us to make sure we're okay. He's too used to things falling apart in an instant. But when he's alone, physically or emotionally, the walls crumble away to reveal a man who enjoys peace. Who smiles softly as he bends down low, resting his chin upon his arms, letting the dawn greet him and being the supposed first in the house to greet the dawn. And I feel like a stalker for watching him. A scene that feels as if I've stolen what will now only exist deep in my mind for when I want to remember one of the few times he has truly ever looked at peace with the world. It's a scene out of a painting. As private as a prayer. I should grant him more privacy, but I don't. In a captivated and enchanted way, I can't.

I'd never tell him this, but in this moment he looks like his mother. And not in the sense of him being her son. No, based off of the few photos I've seen of her in more private, intimate instances, like when she was holding a very small Mike on her lap on his second birthday, or when Mike's father had stolen a photo during their honeymoon when she wasn't looking, Mike looks just like her. Quiet, serene, not hiding anything from anyone because there's no need. At this moment it is just him and the gentle, late winter breeze that makes my nose begin to sting. He's beautiful. Just like she was.

The moment comes to an end, and now it is just a moment that exists only within my mind as his eyes open. The blue dawn brings out the green in his eyes that's usually hidden by artificial light that overpowers the amber, turning them mostly black in some instances. That's the color I thought they were until I saw him in proper daylight. His long lashes bat once, twice in an almost sleepy manner as he shifts his focus, now turning his head to look at me. I shut my eyes quickly, my canines biting into my tongue to force myself to keep a straight face. But it's too late. We made eye contact, even if it was only for a second, and now he knows I'm awake.

"Sweetheart?" He whispers softly, his voice low and slightly gravelly in the way it always is. His 's' and 't's just a tad sharp, clear as always when he speaks. I hear the floor groan as he pads towards me.

I don't speak. I'm not supposed to be awake. I should be asleep, he would rather I was asleep. I tried to be asleep.

He stops in front of me, I can hear the floor groan louder as he crouches in front of me. He's trying to decide if I'm awake or not, if maybe he'd been tricked into thinking we made eye contact. But something convinces him he hasn't, and the bed sinks as he places a hand upon the mattress to support his weight while he kisses my temple.

"Hi," he whispers against my skin, placing another kiss just above the curve of my brow. "Good morning." He places another kiss on the space between my brows, his lips now trailing up to the middle of my forehead. "You look so pretty like this."

Like what? My skin shining with oil, my nose dirty, my body heavy from not having moved?

Something makes him pause when his lips find my cheek. He keeps his lips pressed against my skin for a moment before he pulls away, licking his lips as he looks closer at me.

"Hey," he whispers softly, a finger finding my chin. "Open your eyes."

I don't want to. When I do he'll instantly know what I've been doing, and I don't want to handle it. I don't want to deal with it.

His hand slips under my head, between my cheek and my pillow.

"Sweetheart, your pillow's wet," he says in quiet surprise. "Open your eyes, talk to me."

Hesitatingly, I obey. Cracking my eyes open and trying not to reveal how horrid the dryness in them feels after allowing them rest for a few moments after keeping them open for what could have been hours at this point. Mike's face is inches from mine, his brows furrowed in concern as his eyes scan for other obvious signs of distress.

"Hi," I croak in a tired, unused voice as I try to pretend all is well. Mike unfortunately knows better.

"What happened?" He asks concerningly, taking in the tone he does whenever Abby is upset, fretting over me like I'm an injured child as both of his hands cup my face, his lips finding what he's confirmed are thin, itchy and salty tear tracks, placing several, feather-light kisses along them.

"Nothing," I answer honestly, my voice still cracking. "I'm fine."

"Your eyes are red, baby," he says softly, pulling away to look at me again while his body inches closer. "You look like you've been crying for hours."

Ha. I wish. If I had been, maybe I'd feel better about everything. But instead, I've been lying here since Abby went to bed, feeling numb and dead internally as I willed myself to be upset about anything. Work, bills, the color of the walls. I'd succeeded maybe twice, little tears streaming down my face for a minute or two. But then they would stop, and it would feel as though I couldn't cry. Really cry. Like there was some emotional, maybe physical block preventing me from just truly letting all of my emotions out in a possibly hysterical fit. One that would mean I could connect to my humanity. I don't know what's wrong with me. So, instead I just say "I haven't cried."

Mike opens his mouth to call bullshit, but his brow furrows tighter as he thinks. "What's wrong?" He asks again, now lifting my head to allow one arm to slip underneath so I can lay upon it.

"Nothing," I answer again, truly unsure of what to say. "I'm really okay."

And I am. Work is fine, I am fine. Friends are fine. I don't have entitlement to be upset.

"Is it another episode?" Mike asks softly, now pulling his body onto the bed to lie next to me, fully committed to being partner of the year over here. Ugh. Great.

"No," I answer quickly, averting my gaze. Mike's hand cups my cheek, his body cool compared to mine. I'm soaked in sweat from sleeping - read: laying motionless on the bed since 9:30. - in too warm of clothes in too warm of a room under too warm of blankets. I probably stink. Meanwhile the morning air makes Mike feel refreshing. He's perfect. I'm a mess.

"It's okay if it is," Mike says softly. "It's nothing to be ashamed of if-"

"I'm not having an episode," I say firmly, cutting him off as though it will solidify my statement more than his if I finish mine first. "I'm just not."

I don't pretend to be perfect. I'm not, and I never will be. I know that's okay. I know episodes happen, and that I'll be okay. I've been so much better lately on my new schedule. I'm working, I'm happy.

I have absolutely no good reason to be in the midst of a depression episode. One where the memories won't leave my mind, where I can't sleep, can't think about anything but the past. It plays in my head over and over again, and I can't stop it. Even though I try. I read, I journal, I bathe. But I don't feel real. People don't feel real. Mike is disorienting in the sense that he is the only thing that truly feels real. Where the pale color of the sheets seems hypnotic, his slightly tan skin contrasts to remind me this place really does exist. The furniture and details of the room seem as real as something from a video game, renderings that aren't as realistic as they could be that blend into the wall more as you look. Flat. Nothing. But the freckles on his nose are real. Strikingly real. Overly real. It's as though someone took their time to place each one, carefully deciding their color, their opacity, their placement. I want and love each one, but at this moment they slightly torture me by drawing me into a comforting trap.

"I haven't had an episode in over a month, I'm better," I attempt to say in a firm, solid voice. But I'm too tired, too worn out. My chest burns both from anxiety induced heartburn and how shallow my breathing has been for the past several hours. Mike looks sad, and I hate that. Deeply.

"You have been doing better," he says softly, like a reassuring parent. "I've seen that. And I'm so proud of you."

But I still have this. I'm still like this. I still can't have people wrap their arms around me from behind because I'm instantly taken back to when it would end in me collapsed on the ground, panting, crying, calling out for help that just wouldn't come. I still can't wear shirts with too tight of collars because it always end with me half naked, ripping the shirt off while hyperventilating. That was how I had to tell Mike. For our first Christmas together he bought me this beautiful turtleneck, knowing I liked the style but didn't own many. A dark evergreen color, affordable but a lovely tight-knit material, I adored the thing. But the moment the shirt was over my head, the neck felt like a hand suffocating me, and though I tried to tolerate it fie as long as I could, it only took one casual graze of his hand along my back to send me reeling into a corner, hyperventilating, sobbing, blubbering like a terrified child as I clawed at my neck while he tried to get it off of me.

'I'm so proud of you.' The statement feels like a backhanded reward. It feels as though I'm an idiotic child who just can't learn their ABC's or basic fundamental math. It feels like I'm a small toddler surrounded by adults looking at me full of pity in their eyes while they think 'well, you'll never be normal by any means. But maybe one day if you're lucky, you'll work in a Subway.' But they don't tell me this. They just praise me for existing. 'You woke up today! You put on clothes today! You didn't kill yourself!' It makes me want to scream. Yes, even at him. I want to grab him by his shirt and scream until my voice is shattered 'don't praise me for the bare minimum! I'm not a child!'

But I know he's not. I know he feels the same way when he slips back in progress as well. There was a solid month last year where Mike's insurance refused to pay for his sleep medication due to some paperwork slip and such, something they eventually realized was a complete blip on their end. But that month was hell for Mike, who could barely sleep well even with the medication. His easy smirks were replaced with cracked lips, skin raw from constant biting. His eyes were filled with paranoia from lack of sleep, and worse were the night terrors. Mike didn't even know he was still capable of having them, usually sedated by his meds well enough that if there was a nightmare, he just stayed asleep. At worst he'd wake up in a haze, maybe a very short yelp if anything. But without his meds, it was screaming. Constant screaming. There were nights he would wake after only an hour and he'd start, his voice shrill and reverberating off the walls as he thrashed in the bed. You couldn't console him, touch made him worse. When it happened, you simply had to leave the room and pray he would be okay. The episode could last anywhere from five minutes to an hour, and you would know it was over when all you could hear was broken sobbing, quiet and childlike in nature. Then I would return to the room, and there he'd be. Sometimes wrapped in blankets, sometimes his shirt torn off of himself. Usually sitting either in the dark corner of the room or on the floor of our closet. Red, angry marks would trail along his skin from clawing at himself with his uneven nails, some of them being actual cuts he'd managed in his terror. I'd carefully clean his cuts with cotton balls and hydrogen peroxide while he silently stared ahead, too ashamed to speak or make eye contact with me. And too terrified to sleep again.

Sleep deprivation didn't help, either. One day I saw him with a Redbull stuck in his hand, seemingly never empty despite how much he drank from it. At first I thought it was one, than I realized it was three, then I realized I didn't really know what number he was on. It was surprising how well he could take the new, unusual load of caffeine that tastes sickly sweet without so much as a twitch of an eyebrow. I didn't realize he was trying to starve off sleep until the next morning when his leg was bouncing a mile a minute and he was snapping at every little thing. That day he had a breakdown over dropping an unpeeled onion. And that's when it slipped out.

I didn't judge him. I was terrified for him, but I didn't judge him. And I could tell the same was true for him when I would have my slips, though mine looked different. Mine looked like a lack of self care and rotting in our bed, staring pointlessly ahead until he would lift me off the bed and carefully guide me to a warm bath, where he'd gently wash my skin with a soft rag like I was a newborn while I stared ahead at nothing. At this point we had learned to tell the oncoming signs of each others episodes, and how to starve them off. And if we couldn't, how to help each other through them.

Usually, I don't mind. But today, it hurts. It all hurts.

"Have you eaten?" Mike asks me gently, his thumb gliding over my cheekbone as he wraps me in his embrace, careful of where he places his hands on my person. Like I'm a bomb.

I don't want to be treated like this anymore.

"Yes," I sigh in an irritated voice, like it's the most inconvenient thing he should ask me such a question. But I haven't. I feel empty and yet too full at the same time, and guilt pounds behind my left eye with the ferocity of a headache that I can't just mother myself.

Mike doesn't believe me. He'll pretend he does, but the press of his lips betray him as he takes a deep breath in like he's trying to tell what wire to cut next.

"Would you like to have breakfast with me?" He asks softly, his thumb still stroking just below the raw corner of my eye. It burns. All of it.

'No,' I snap in my head. But I just tighten my jaw and press my own lips together.

"I'm not really hungry, but thank you," I say in a tight voice. Now he's going to pretend that's okay, and he'll go get his breakfast. Then he'll pretend he can't finish it all, joke lightly and say I gave him too big of a portion even though he eats like he's still a growing teenager, and offer me little bites as he "tries" to finish the rest, then eventually trick me into finishing it. He isn't slick, and I'm not a child.

"Hey," he says in a light whisper. "I was thinking maybe we could go out today? All three of us? Or I could call Max, see if she'll watch Abs for a little bit so we can get away?"

Distraction. Cute. I don't need it.

"That could be nice," I admit through half gritted teeth, not meeting his eyes. "Where to?"

"Anywhere," he says too quickly, obviously relieved to have a straw to grasp at. "Your choice."

Guilt twists in my chest like an alien creature settled in my lungs, burning as it begins to slither its way towards my throat to suffocate me on its wrath. He doesn't need to do this. Can't he see how well I'm doing?

"How was work?" He asks me in an attempt to keep me talking. Mike doesn't like silence, not like this. Not really any time. There's always noise throughout the house, whether it's a show on in the background or white noise from his cassette player. He can't stand silence. Especially from people.

"Work was..." Fine? The usual? Non-eventful?

"Good," I decide. Mike presses his lips together again. Stop doing that.

"Yeah?" He asks in a slightly tight voice.

"Yeah," I confirm in a tighter voice.

"You didn't... call out or anything?"

My bottom left back molar feels like it might snap from how tight my jaw is. "Why?" I ask, venom unintentionally creeping in.

"Just asking," he says quickly.

"Why?" I press harder, wanting to know who told on me. Abby hasn't even had the chance to speak with him.

'It's because he knows your patterns,' I think. 'He's trying to gage how serious this is.'

"Maybe we could go out for breakfast? We can wait until Abby wakes up, go get some Waffle Hous-"

"I'm not having an episode," I snap quickly, more harsh than I intended. My tone makes him flinch slightly, his eyes shutting for a moment as he takes another breath in. Now I'm scared he'll pull away.

"We... don't have to talk about this right now," he says softly, opening his eyes again and wrapping his arm around me tighter. "Let's just focus on breakfast."

The guilt pounds in my kidneys, which are sore since I haven't left the bed since I laid down after putting Abby to sleep, but I did have a full water bottle around 3:00 in the morning. It's not Mike's fault I backtracked. He's just trying to be nice. I'm the asshole here.

"I'm sorry," I say in a small voice, dropping my gaze and biting my tongue between my canines again to stop the tears that are now willing to come freely to burn my eyes during such an inappropriate moment.

"It's okay," Mike says softly, placing a kiss on my forehead. "Don't even think about it."

'Don't even think about the fact he's just trying to be a decent person and you can't even say 'thank you,'' a grating voice in my head chides me. 'What, you're too good for a free meal?'

"I'm sorry," I repeat softer, my nails digging into my wrist that I'm holding to keep control over myself. Mike's hand is searching for mine, ready to pry it away to prevent me from doing what I need to to prevent the waterworks.

"Hey." Stop with the 'hey's. "I said it's alright, you're okay."

It's all bad. Everything's bad, and it's not going to get better. I keep thinking I'll get better, I keep thinking I'll be okay. But every two steps forward is one step back and I can't keep doing this redundant bullshit for the rest of my life. Am I going to be 40 at the office Christmas party sneaking off to freak out in the bathroom because something triggered me and I just can't get a grip on things? Am I even going to make it to 40?

Mike is comforting me, cradling my head to his chest and rocking me back and forth. And his shirt is wet. I don't like that his shirt is wet, it should be dry. Why is it fucking wet?

"It's okay," he's whispering in my hair while horrid choking sounds come from somewhere around us. Maybe the other room? "You're alright, it's okay."

I'm aware it's alright, I'm aware it's okay. Why are you wet? Why does my head hurt?

"I can't- sleep," my voice chokes out between guttural sobs, my face pressed into his chest. "It's all nightmares."

Oh. Shit. That's me. The wetness, I did that. My bad.

"I know, it's okay. How long?" Mike asks softly. What, are you gonna call my therapist?

"A week," I moan into his chest. My ribs expand with each recycled breath I steal from against his chest, and I can feel him trying to gently tug me away so I can get one with fresh, cold air instead. I don't let him. My lungs burn more. "They just won't stop."

"It's okay, it's only temporary," he says softly, his hand pushing away some of the blanket to relieve me of the boiling warmth underneath. The cold air is refreshing against my skin, even through my clothes are soaked with stinking sweat.

"No, it's not!" I cry hysterically into his chest. "They don't go away. None of it goes away. I want it to go away!"

He's nodding, rubbing circles on my back as I grip his shirt hard enough it may stretch.

"It'll get better. It did for awhile," he reminds me.

"But I'm back here. I always end up back here. I was doing so good!" I sob, feeling the wetness on his shirt begin to slightly thicken, probably due to snot. I try to sniff it back into my sinuses, but I think that just draws his attention to the new fluid he's covered in.

"That's okay. You'll do even better next time. And if you don't, that's okay too." Don't say what I think you're going to say. Do not. Michael, I'm serious, don't- "I'm still proud of you."

Fuck. Ooooooff!

This is the real release of my emotions. Now I'm gasping, choking, sobbing, making horrible sounds that sound like a European ambulance siren wailing through the streets to announce someone's dying on the way to the hospital. My head throbs with the pain from the heavy crying, and I may give myself a nosebleed from the passion of it all. And Mike, his patience thick and durable, just holds me through it all. Letting me soak his shirt, dirty his skin, grab at him blindly while I wail like a spoiled child, just repeating the phrase over again. 'Proud.' What pride. What honor to be had at such a breakdown. Yes, very understandable.

"I should be better," I sob into his chest. "You deserve better."

"What?" He laughs lightly, and at first it feels mocking, but then he's pulling my head away fron my soaked enclosure and his eyes are so gentle for a moment I know the light laughter is simply from surprise. Then his eyes widen and he's back in parent mode.

"Don't leave me. Don't leave me!" I choke out while gripping his shirt. At first he thinks I'm talking about our relationship, then he realizes I'm not letting him pull away.

"Sweetheart, you're bleeding," he gently explains. "Let me wipe your face. I just need tissues. I'm not even leaving the bed."

But that's too much. Let me bleed, let my head throb, let this headache take the vision away in my eye from how bad it hurts. Let anything happen so long as I can stay in this moment. Don't break the spell. Don't let me go numb again.

"Don't leave me," I cry pathetically, my eyes all scrunched together in the same manner as wailing infants, my grip on his shirt not breaking. Sure enough, there on the wet spot of his shirt is a dark stain of blood that should hopefully come out if we wash it fast enough.

"Let me do that," I'm saying as I try to peel off his shirt now. "Let me wash it."

He's gently guiding my hands away. "Don't worry about it," he says gently, kissing my hands and wrists like they might break even from the delicate graze of his lips. "Let me take care of you."

He does this all the time. He always takes care of me. I should do more. Be more. For him.

"You deserve better," I choke out, feeling like I may suffocate from the tears. Mike's brows furrow in concern, and he grips my chin very carefully as he makes me meet his eyes.

"Hey, no. Get that out of your head, it's all okay," he tells me softly, staring at me like if he can't verbally convince me, his hard stare will do the trick. "I don't want to hear you talk like that."

"I should be better," I repeat, my crying lessening slightly as I try to hold eye contact.

"You're getting better," he reminds me. "This is the happiest I've seen you since we met. You'll get back to that. Hell, you could feel the same way tonight. It's okay. Take a day off. We all need one, even normal people," he says softly, stroking my hair as he kisses my forehead. "Can you just let me take care of you in the meantime?"

No. Go away, let me rot.

"We can still go out for breakfast," he offers gently. "I can still call Max, or we can all stay in. I'll set up a nest in the living room so you can watch TV. Works you like that?"

Stop. Stop being nice to me, stop trying to make me feel better. It all just feels awful. I don't want this guilt, someone takes it away.

Mike must sense my overwhelmed emotions, because he places another kiss on my forehead before asking if he can clean my face again, and this time I say yes. He pulls away, which is still upsetting but less so. I don't make a deal out of it this time at least. He opens a drawer, searching for wipes and pulling them out before turning back to me.

"Do you want to sit up?" He asks gently. I bite my tongue to prevent another mocking thought directed towards me and nod. Bones crack as I do, my kidneys hurt worse. But at least I finally moved.

Tears still streak down my face as Mike wipes away the snot and blood, his large hand gently cupping my face as he does. There's a soft smile on his face, though I'm not particularly sure why. And when he's done, he runs his thumb along my bottom lip before placing his own lips on top of mine. They're chapped, one spot raw from excessive biting. But there's still some leftover chapstick on them, and it tastes like grapefruit.

I tug on his shirt, one hand sneaking under it to feel his cool skin underneath. He gently takes my wrist once more, then pulls away. A silent rejection. He knows that I'm just looking for a distraction from my emotions, and in a moment he'll offer a much healthier one. He does discard the shirt, leaving his chest bare, but only so that he doesn't smear my fluids back onto me as he pulls me in for another embrace.

"We'll be okay," he promises. "Everything will be okay."

"What if it's not?" I ask in a quiet, strained voice.

"Then it'll be okay later. You can take time to not be okay," he says.

There's a short silence before either of us speak. And when I hear his voice hitch in the way it does when he's about to say something, Abby's alarm rings crystal clear in her room. Then the sound of a truck rattles by on the road in front of the house. Birds continue to sing. And my pours feel so clogged I'm sure my skin will be lashing out for days.

But it'll all be okay.

                             ¤▪︎{♧}▪︎¤

"Can we have some fluff to reco-" no. Suffer.

Taglist:

@cassiecasluciluce @gh0u1ishly @joshhutchersons-slut @schmidtsbimbo @sugarevans @wompwompwomp57 @jhutchissupercool @laurrrelise. Thank you for your support pookies!!! <3

               •▪︎Masterlist▪︎•

[wilkkio]

I love fic where Erik is a single father of 3 kids, Pietro and Wanda being kids and Lorna a toddler, and then Charles is like "oh what cute children you have let be me the stepfather".

But I need fics where Erik is a single father of 3 teenagers. The twins being 17 and Lorna 13 (something like that).

Wanda is the older sister who carries the whole family on her shoulders. She makes a cup of tea for Erik when he's having a mental breakdown, she helps Lorna (and sometimes Pietro) with her homework, she makes dinner when Erik comes home late. She's the one noticing that her dad might like the professor Charles Xavier, and she knows how alone and single her dad is so she makes plans to have Charles around.

Pietro is the teenager who wakes up at 3pm during the weekend and eats the whole fridge in one night. Sometimes Erik wants to shake him and yell "PLEASE FIND A PURPOSE IN YOUR LIFE" but he's too tired to do that. But Pietro is also the cool older brother that comes to pick up Lorna at school and tells her things about "adult life" sometimes he even takes her with him to hang out with his friends (Lorna loves that). He has a very conflicted relationship with his dad... Wanda and him are very close even if they have very different personalities.

Lorna is... A REBELLIOUS TEENAGER (yes I have an obsession with that). She's 13 and has cool older siblings who are 17 and they can go out late, go party, drive a car. So she's a bit jealous of that and tries everything to show her dad she's old enough to do everything like her siblings. She's in her phase "I'm my own person and I'm gonna show it to you by disagreeing with everything you're gonna say." Sometimes she teams up with Pietro to annoy Erik. But the thing is, Lorna loves her father, she wants to be like him and make him proud, so when she annoys him too much she feels guilty and asks Wanda to help her make an "I'm sorry" card. Some of Lorna's friends have a crush on Pietro, and she's annoyed by that. She's very possessive, protective of her family, and doesn't want to "share" them, so when she hears Wanda talk about a potential boyfriend for their dad she makes plans to make Charles go away.

Erik is tired, exhausted even. He tries to be a good father, but he feels like failing even more everyday. Wanda is the daughter every parent which for, she's kind, helpful and patient. But Erik feels like she grew up too fast because he was failing at being a single father, he really feels guilty of that. He also feels bad that he didn't succeed in giving Pietro a purpose in his life, or any kind of project, he's really hard on Pietro because he wants him to do great things and be a better man than him. He sees Lorna a bit like his second chance, a second chance to not fail at being a father, so he forgives her way faster than he forgives Pietro when they go into trouble.

[I might actually write a fic based on that]

[dadsbongos]

Oh my gosh the I GUESS part was so funny cfdjkfd It will always make me so sad that we'll likely never see the later seasons, it would have been SO funny omg How are you btw?? Anything fun you've done/have coming up? Also any random headcanon thoughts about possibly dating both laios and kabru would be as lovely as you <3 -Artemis

i giggle thinking about his snooty fucking "i GUESS" that and calling mika gay for being attracted to him, a man

i was in a bit of a rut the past week or so but i've been getting better, drawing a lot and working on personal writing projects. plan on going out with a fwend on Wednesday :3 and i'm trying to con a hot person into liking me

labru poly hcs below!!

ok to get together with these two is a nightmare though it is worth it!

i can see it being you and kabru chasing laios, being romantic rivals with laios not paying attention to either of you LOL

kabru gets charmed by you after viciously studying you for months on end to try getting a leg up on you and you're just like every other hot-blooded mammal and can agree that kabru's hot

i can see you confessing to laios (because god forbid kabru actually voice his feelings to someone) so kabru is just silently devastated until eventually being absorbed into the relationship

domestic chores were a bit of a battle at first because kabru doesn't maintain his own space and laios can't maintain common spaces bc he doesn't know what everyone else is okay with him tossing out and dishes are a NO for him

but kabru is great at delegating/managing tasks plus he can care for others. so he managed to think out a way for everyone to be happy: kabru does most of the basic chores (dishes, sweeping, dusting), laios does most of the yard work and shopping, and you the laundry/cooking ft. laios as a lil helper while picking up minor tidying (but obvi you guys can share and help as with all relationships yk)

non-negotiable tho you and laios and kabru are all legally obligated to indulging each other's niche interests. you and laios are ears OPEN to kabru's novelizations of world history and current gossip, and you n kabru listen to laios ramble about useless mythos and cryptids factoids

and ofc they listen to you prattle on about your own interests cuz that's love bby <3

when walking outside, laios likes to intentionally try finding cool bugs or dogs and kabru has to wrangle him by the collar of his shirt while you're just there like :) aw bfs

kabru looooves planning dates and doesn't usually like feeling out of the loop or surprised unless its something you three agreed wouldn't be orchestrated by him

blowout arguments are not common in any manner, since kabru's an ace at recognizing/dismantling how you feel and is flexible in asking how to better put your mind at ease

meanwhile laios just HATES fighting and arguments and is not the type to enforce his way of thinking/doing certain things unless it'll actually drive him insane (which is pretty uncommon)

kabru is probably in charge of finances cuz its just less stress for him

laios likes decorating the space but you and kabru have to nyx some of his stranger ideas (a fully functional bigfoot puppet hanging from the ceiling, fresno night crawler figures on the tv stand, etc.)

nautical themed bathroom is a for sure though i'm sorry i'm sorry, laios is white and kabru was raised by milsiril they're just going to have a nautical themed bathroom no matter how you feel about it

i have an idea i want to make a fic but can't find the time: basically the same thing where you n kabru hate each other but get along for laios' sake cuz you're both dating him. until you fuck nasty and bond for realsies <3

[n7punk]

She-ra Cast Q&A (July 23rd 2024 via Streamily)

Yeah we knew I was going to do this, sorry I'm late but I was driving when it started. Quick summary of the questions and answers, not exact quotes so if you have more questions about something, watch the VOD. Shouldn't be hard to find since these are listed in chronological order.

Guide:

Q: Not-so-average-fangirl (host)

ND: ND Stevenson (showrunner/writer)

A: Aimee Carrero (Adora VA)

AJ: AJ Michalka (Catra VA)

K: Karen Fukuhara (Glimmer VA)

ND was sick for the stream so take his answers with even more grains of salt than usual (I love you Nate but I also know when you're joking and it's often).

Right off the bat, no major announcements except ND teasing he has a passion project book coming out next year with other things in the works.

Q: What influenced your changes to the original SPOP characters (for ND)?

ND: Fell down a lot of rabbitholes on fansites and such, conclusion was it was the gayest show he had ever seen. "This is so gay, I have to make this gay, it wouldn't be true to the original if it wasn't gay." Wanted to bring in a new take and a new world.

Q: How did it feel playing Adora in the first few episodes versus the last few (for Aimee)?

A: In the first few episodes she always feels like she's seconds from being hired (own anxiety, recording environment was very comfortable). Fell in love with the character and the story, ending was really bittersweet to not have last forever.

Q: Since Catra is your first "villain" role, is there anything you learned that you would use in future villain roles (for AJ)?

AJ: Voice placement (villains talk lower, more raspy trying to seem more intimidating). Pulling anger or hurt into her body when going into a session otherwise relaxed. Would workout beforehand or clench her muscles to help introduce to stress to her voice.

Q: Was there something from your previous serious roles you pulled in for Glimmer (for Karen)?

K: Liked that Glimmer was a lighter/fun role, her voice sat well for her. Previous roles might have helped for when she was going through her identity crises.

Q: If you could hangout with your character for one day, what would you do?

ND (Spinnerella): Girls day, coffee, sailing (wind for the boat), she's the most normal person on the show so easy to talk (A/N: THIS IS HOW I FIND OUT ND VOICED SPINNERELLA??).

A (Adora): Thinks Adora wouldn't like her (she's cool even if Aimee didn't play her cool). Interests don't align, maybe finding something more atheltic and crafty. (Q suggestion: A could bake and Adora could eat - Aimee loves.) Could have Adora build her something.

K (Glimmer): Would love to explore the kingdom with her, hang out with her and Bow now/a few years down the line.

AJ (Catra): Take her to Disneyland. Would be intimidated by Catra but it would be a nice icebreaker. Rides, junkfood, meeting princesses (Catra would pretend she didn't like it but actually enjoy it).

Also, the first of many mentions of the cast wanting to do a She-ra movie, ND said "already working" on a script but in a joking way, clearly not an announcement and just something he wants to do.

Q: Which scene got you the most emotional while writing/recording?

ND: Finale. Culmination of all the characters' arcs but also the crew's arc. Knew it was the last time they would be doing many things. Co-worker asked if the characters had said that they love each other, ND searched scripts and realized they hadn't, so incorporated the pitch into the finale. It was the crew's way of saying it to each other as well.

A: Emotional often while recording. (First of many pitches for Aimee wanting to be in everything Nate writes because his writing is so amazing). No stars in the sky, Angella staying behind convo in the portal, the finale.

AJ: "I love you, I always have" (will come up again later). Also when Shadow Weaver dies, she was so hard on Catra but she's still the closest thing to a mother figure she has.

K: Angella's death and when Glimmer admitted her mistake to Bow and Adora later on. (Also Karen cried watching AJ's confession scene).

Q: What do you think Catradora's space roadtrip experience would be if they took a trip to Earthe (for ND)?

ND: (This answer is all jokes) Wearing a dad hat, Catra gets in fights. Also Disneyland.

A: Bermuda shorts and sandals situation for Adora, no SPF and sunburned. Intense dad energy on a roadtrip. Interrogating about Dorito shells at Taco Bell without knowing what a shell or Dorito is.

AJ: Catra deciding to crash a movie premeire in Hollywood without even really knowing what a movie premiere is.

K: Go to all the food spots in LA.

A: Adora going through the drive-thru over and over ordering different numbers on Swift Wind.

Q: Did you apply any techniques you learned from voice acting into singing (for AJ)?

AJ: Singing since a little kid, feels like she's solid there, but voice acting requires a lot of front voice and stamina.

Q: If you could write a spin-off series for a side character who would it be?

ND: Double Trouble (shapeshifter bias). So many parties to crash, nobles to impersonate. Spy drama. Every persona they've ever had gets their own little spin-off.

Q: If you were in Etheria for 24 hours what would you do?

Okay AJ accidentally said she'd ride Shadow Weaver and then everybody functionally died when she was asked if she meant Swift Wind. I just have to mention that.

AJ: Ride Swift Wind first because Catra has never been on a horse and AJ is a horse girl.

(ND and AJ both said Catra would love it).

A: Wants to explore Glimmer's room and play dress-up.

K: Get ready for the prom together in Glimmer's room.

ND: Explore the First Ones' ruins and press all the buttons. Act like an urban explorer and then get killed by spiders.

Q: If Adam had been in the show, how would you have approached his character (for ND)?

ND: Would have changed everything in the show because there's somebody she would have a sibling bond with and be looking for her family. Sees this version of Adora as an alternate reality, but if they were both together, would be chaos twins. Push all the buttons, etc.

Q: During White Out, what would Floppy Adora and Catra's interaction have looked like?

A: The world's worst drunk voicemail you've left for an ex, so cringey you can't even write it (A/N: she's so real for this). Profess her love but then barely speak real words.

AJ: The night would end in laughter, and then tears, and then laughter, etc. Glad it didn't happen because it would happen too early.

ND: Show would have been over at that point because of what she said.

Q: If Glimmer was only limited to three places on our Earth, what spots would she choose and why (for Karen)?

K: Japan (to visit grandma), NYC (Karen might move there, she's going to try to see Aimee there next week), Turkey (to go in a hot air balloon. (A/N my interpretation was the 'she' was supposed to be Glimmer but Karen interpreted it to mean her and the host seemed to agree).

Q: Would AJ and Aimee ever consider doing a duet together?

(AJ made this :D face immediately)

A: I would be so nervous to sing in front of AJ I couldn't even speak.

AJ: Aimee has a beautiful voice and would love to duet with her. They're friends, no need to be nervous.

A: Would still need a little liquid courage, was thrilled to be in the "Blue Dress" music video for Aly & AJ.

AJ: Wants to do a three-way duet with Catra, Adora, and Glimmer.

Q: Of all the scenes that got cut, what are the ones you most wish you'd gotten to include? (A/N: Tippen you made it!)

ND: Nothing made it to animation, maybe boards at most. Couldn't think of anything, but prank they pulled by replacing the final line in the finale after the camera pans up from the Best Friends Squad group hug with "Did we ever find out what Grayskull is?". Showed it to their exec as a prank and got super attached to it but couldn't keep it. (A/N: ND posted a video of this on Twitter awhile back, see it here. Thanks tempusername24!)

Q: What are character interactions you'd like to see that you didn't get to do?

Karen (AJ same): Catra getting to be friends with Bow and Glimmer, Catra and Glimmer explore the world together.

AJ: Catra would love to teleport once she's used to it, loves Glimmer grabbing her and going somewhere spontaneously.

ND: Bow and He-man.

Glimmer is based on Nate's first DND character who misused Misty Step a lot!

Q: What was your reaction to the glimbow confession (for Karen)?

K: Super surprised, none of them knew glimbow/catradora/etc were going to be a thing, suspected and shipped it, but was super excited.

N (adding): Karen asked him when reading the script if she should read it romantically or not.

Q: What was your reaction to the new She-ra transformation in S5 (for Aimee)?

A: Thought she was hot already, loved the redesign/glow-up, the jawline, still love it now.

Q: Has anything from the show affected/inspired your music (for AJ?)

AJ: (Never thought of it before) There are times she feels she's in the shadow of her sister but playing Catra gave her a newfound confidence in herself as a performer.

Karen had to leave at this point, but the girls want the next signing August 17th to be a pajama party if they can swing it. (Also if you had any doubts this stream was geared towards the adult fans, Karen promoted her show The Boys when prompted before leaving).

Q: What was the hardest part about writing Adora (for ND?)

ND: Keeping the balance of the friendship and tension for all the characters. People thinking Catra might be too far gone to be redeemed and executing her "apology tour".

Q: As creatives, how do you process the heavy feelings when a project comes to a close?

A: Every project has a depression period afterwards, the "post show blues" (A/N: girl I know what you mean). Keeping up with the other people on the show is all you can do.

AJ: Second, there's nothing you can do but maintain those friendships and hope for another installment/reboot down the road.

ND: Everything for 5 years for him was She-ra, even when sleeping. Jarring when it was over. Really hard, tried to make peace with moving forward to something new and passing on the baton.

Q: What is your favorite line from a character you've voiced (for Aimee)?

A: Hard for her to remember quotes, was reminded of the line "You're worth more than what you can give to other people" (A/N: not a line from Adora but a good line regardless).

AJ: "I love you, I always have" because it's Catra being honest and throwing it out hoping for Adora to catch it.

ND: Playing Netossa/Spinnerella fight with nephew at his request, ND was playing Netossa because he didn't know ND voiced her, ND did the possessed Horde Prime line from Spinnerella and he screamed and hid in a closet. Unlocked the concept of voice actors for him and not he loves quizzing ND on it.

Q: What do you envision for Catradora's post-canon space adventures (also did Adora change clothes).

(All the clothes answers were jokes but sleeveless tops and a perm for Adora and a fanny pack for Catra so she can carry sunscreen for Adora).

A: Like that they've aged, that they'll find joy in the more mundane aspects of life and they may not be worthy of a movie but she likes that little moments that make up a life for them.

AJ: Same. Enjoying life as friends and lovers.

ND: They deck out the ship (airbrush a wizard on the side, shag carpet and mood lighting, the joke answers aren't done lmao). Fun field trip, being touristy, extremely low stakes shenanigans and then going on missions. Would collect tons of souvenirs as they travel from planet-to-planet.

What are you working on / What did She-ra mean to you?

AJ: On sabbatical except for writing music. Grateful for Catra and the depth of writing on the show.

A: Filming Our Friends and Neighbors. Same as AJ, also going to pester ND to play more characters for him.

ND: (got teary) She-ra transformed entire life, so grateful for everything the viewers invested into it. Book coming out next year that is a long-time passion project but not announced yet, other various things he can't mention right now.

Aimee joked with Nate that he needs to get back to work to get them all into the Academy Awards when talking about Nimona's nomination.

Upcoming signings:

Karen, AJ, and Aimee are on August 17th via Instagram (A/N: originally they said a different date for Karen and reports have varied from fansites but these are the upcoming events listed on the She-ra Streamily collection as of 24/07). ND has a TBD date pending as well.

[wonwooslibrary]

svt as boyfriends ♡ jeonghan edition

member: yoon jeonghan genre: fluff, bullet points, established relationship word count: 668 summary: jeonghan's boyfriend things <3 warnings: none! author's note: i totally forgot to write this oops but heeeey it's done and it's jeonghan's turn! school has been a lot so i'm sorry that I haven't been posting as much </3 I'm trying to write more in my free time so we'll see :O

I feel like Jeonghan would be the “silent boyfriend”

Jeonghan gives the perfect college boyfriend vibes and I love that for him idk

Quality Time 

Jeonghan slays so hard at quality time

As I said, Jeonghan gives college bf vibes and it’s totally because of his love of quality time! 

When you are doing work, he’d totally agree to sit with you somewhere on campus or in a local cafe to study with you and help you memorize terms for your next exam! 

If you don’t go to school, he’d totally help you with your work projects too!!!

If you don’t have work projects either, he’d just be there for you if you are having a rough day, just as someone to lean on and to listen to you talk <3 

He’s so caring I love him

He would also definitely love to go on night walks with you when it’s late! He would totally find a spot where y’all can see the stars and take you there so you can stargaze and share some snacks 

Words of Affirmation 

Jeonghan is totally a “sweetie” or “baby” kind of guy and you cannot change my mind about it at all 

I can imagine Jeonghan coming home from a long practice or something and finding you in the living room. He’d sit next to you on the couch and lean against you and be all like, “Hi baby, how was your day?” 

(I’d actually scream pls) 

He would always say sweet things to you like “I missed you, baby” or “I love spending time with you” aaaaaa 

Jeonghan is a compliment machine so never think he would keep his thoughts to himself 

“Sweetie, I love the outfit you wore the other day! It looked perfect on you” 

(sobbing) 

Physical Touch

Jeonghan obsessed with little or light touches 

Loves holding hands when you’re waiting in line for something, or resting his hand on your knee when you’re sitting together on public transport 

And of course don’t forget about the back hugs when you’re doing something like dishes, brushing your teeth or literally just standing and texting your friend back

Head pats !!! Loves just patting your head and combing through your hair slightly

Y’all would be the couple that I strive to be a part of in my dreams 

Just imagine Jeonghan being a cuddly bf :( 

Acts of Service 

Helping you brush and do your hair!!! He definitely knows how to braid so imagine all the cool stuff he could do 

And if you have short hair, don’t fear: he’s got the butterfly clips all prepared just to be silly 

Definitely helps you with chores when you are busy or need to just take a break from existing 

Likes driving you places, even if you are a better driver and also enjoy driving 

He just likes making sure you get places safely and also don’t have to stress yourself out from how bad the traffic can be 

He also just likes letting you be in control of his radio 

Gift Giving 

He would totally go to your favorite cafe or bakery in the morning and get your favorite treat and bring it back while you’re still sleeping so when you wake up, you get something amazing from him !!!

Spoils you all the time but instead of it being jewelry or something expensive, he just gets you small trinkets 

Totally buys you pins for your bag when he goes literally anywhere 

Also loves to get you little decorations for your place: including stuffed animals, one being an extremely soft lamb that you decided to name Mareep, like the Pokemon

Now, for something like holidays and your birthday, he would get something more sentimental, like matching bracelets or something!!! 

He would want to get something for the both of you that he can still wear during practice, photoshoots and when he’s filming literally anything

Even if the audience doesn’t know what it symbolizes, he would know and that's very soft boyfriend of him <3

[akookminsupporter]

Namjoon gave a good interview to Vogue Spain and in it he said a few things that I thought I'd share with those of you who may not understand Spanish.

This was at the end of the article but I want to write it first:

One thing that needs to be made clear about this album is that, no matter how much the rumour mill is trying to spin it, it is by no means the end of the successful band. "Oh, I'm not leaving BTS. Absolutely not. This is the first time I'm launching a solo project like this, so I'm trying to stand up and take my first steps. But I'm ambitious and I have willpower. So I don't want to miss the opportunity to do both. So I will try my best not to lose control and steer these two ships at the same time. A lot of bands split up and fall apart, but I hope that doesn't happen to BTS. I just love the music, I love my job, I love the band members and I love myself. If I can keep both projects going, I think it can be something legendary in the long run".

Other important parts of the article:

"The k-pop industry hasn't stopped growing since we debuted with BTS [in 2013]. It's become a lot more complex and has brought a lot more people into its structures. I think there are a lot of lights, but also some slippery shadows. Many of us started our careers very early as a group: we slept and lived together as teenagers. We became a real family, which is great, but this culture has also affected me a lot, because sometimes I find it difficult to be treated as an adult who has autonomy in his decisions. I'm perceived as just another cog in the crew, in the context of a mass phenomenon",

Did you ever feel like you were getting completely lost in this delirium of success? "I used to think so, but the funny thing is that I am fully aware that it was my own choice to devote myself to the k-pop industry. Nobody pushed me into it. But yes, I have lost myself at times. Although perhaps saying this is an excess of 'self-empathy'. There is no answer. Except that, if k-pop is about recharging the batteries of a mass audience and I'm responsible for doing that recharging, then I have to keep my feet firmly on the ground. As an adult, as a musician and as a human being. And these ten years of my career have helped me define who I am and learn to love myself. But I'm still in that process, you know? All these internal struggles will be recorded on records and videos," he explains.

"Music is really necessary for the world, but, when it comes to my music, sometimes I feel like I'm producing something unnecessary. If I were to die tonight, I don't think anything would change. It might matter to some people for a while, but a farmer or a street sweeper is more relevant to the functioning of society. When I ask myself about the role of our generation in historical terms, when I look at all the digital platforms and communities out there, I am overcome with confusion. There are a lot of people who don't want to think. They have frenetic lives and turn to music or television to escape, so the last thing they want is someone trying to lecture them from a pedestal. In that context, I wonder how I can make my music matter. I haven't found an answer yet, but I keep trying to bring my own perspective to it.

As to whether he is afraid that the army he has on Instagram (42.4 million followers) might one day turn against him for a silly mistake or a blunder, RM answers bluntly. "Yes, it scares me. It scares me 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. When I was younger I tried to come across as a cool guy who doesn't give a shit what other people think, but I don't think that's right anymore. I care about the publicity dimension of my career and the influence I can have on others. It stresses me out, yes, but I think I can handle it. That's why I don't retire or do things like go out and drink the night away and then drive drunk. I'm human, I can make mistakes, but I will do everything in my power to be the best version of myself. One of the keys is to treat this job for what it is: a job. I don't think artists have any special rights or status.

Note: if you would like me to translate another part of the interview, let me know.

[andrea-lyn]

The Raven Cycle - Master Fic Rec Post

See under the cut for fifteen total recs, mostly Pynch. There's also 10 additional in the "Recs Less Travelled" project here.

and on the seventh day he rested by Prevalent_Masters

On the seventh day, the Lynch brothers discovered they were friends once more.

Or, the week following the (near) apocalypse.

cool of your hand, back of my neck by grandfather_clock

Adam Parrish has been dumped for the second time ever. Ronan Lynch is a gleeful, weirdly invested observer. They drive around all night long. featuring: teenagers pretending they aren’t in love, shouting over loud music, minor arson, major arson, ronan lynch’s hand fixation, and an unfortunate amount of kiting.

getting swept away by sunmoontruth

“So. Your page. Your knight. Two different people, yes?” the psychic guesses—intuits. She points to each of the tarot cards: a girl with a golden cup, a boy with a golden cup. “Yes,” Gansey says. “But similar feelings,” the psychic says, mostly to herself. She opens her mouth. She closes her mouth. She instructs, “Last card.” Gansey draws. Death. Reversed. — Or a cross country road-trip, developing feelings, and the end of the world

god only knows (what i'd be without you) by RhymeReason

[Part of Gansey was starting to accept that two of his best friends were most likely dead.]

Or: gansey finds adam and ronan :)

hold me tight, fear me not by audikatia for Northisnotup

When Adam stepped around, he found himself suddenly in an emerald glen of moss-covered trees. More blue roses scattered over the green ground like raindrops or tears.

And there, in the center, was a man pinned to a tree with an arrow through his heart. :: Tam Lin AU

i should have loved a thunderbird instead by ssstrychnine

persephone leaves adam three things: her tarot cards, her voice, and a phone from 2003.

I Worship You, Your Fingers Snag My Soul by sherasaidgaywrites

He breathed into Adam’s mouth, his voice different, somehow; filled with meaning: “Then the Lord God formed a man from the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living being.” He did his smoker’s breath, his fingertips a whisper on nerves. “His name was Adam.” And, oh, that was so fitting. What was Adam if not a man built from the dust? - Ronan does some contemplation during mass and then comes home to his second object of worship. He likens Adam unto God’s creations, Adam likens him unto God.

if, if, if by writerforlife

Declan decides it’s about time he and Adam Parrish have a chat.

like a secret (like an oath) by demigodbeautiies

“You know Richard Gansey well enough to be invited to his wedding,” Adam says, and it isn’t quite a question. Then he shakes his head, like he’s clearing it of a much bigger piece of debris, and says, “You’re the best man at his wedding?” - Pynch Fake Dating AU

Night Owls by aceofreaders (Kickasscookieeater)

Adam Parrish has worked at The Night Owl since the end of his college freshman year. It's named so because it's open late, which suits Adam just fine because no one ever comes in during those last hours before 12am.

Except, then someone does.

A foul mouthed, viciously handsome someone, who brings a slow rolling storm of change into Adam's steady life. And when he does, Adam won't be able to lie anymore.

since you've been home, see what you have become by Mici (noharlembeat)

Adam goes touring colleges, and Ronan comes along. And Opal, well. She stays with Declan.

Someone Worth Knowing by SprigsofViolets

Alex Claremont-Diaz and Adam Parrish meet on their first day at NYU. They do not hit it off—cue the academic rivalry. They hate each other until they learn to understand each other.

(I can’t tell you how many times I’ve re-read this one, esp as it hits two of my fave canons in all the right places)

There's No Place Like My Room by Lil_Redhead

Sometimes endings are endings, but sometimes they’re just middles and the real ending is very, very far away.

Or, the days between the last chapters and the epilogue of Greywaren

Time Isn’t Real (but you’re a constant) by SpiritsFlame

“Time is what prevents everything from happening at once.” - Albert Einstein. Adam wakes up in the future, learns a few things about himself, about time, and about his priorities. But mostly he just wishes that Time was doing it’s job better.

(you told me) this is right where it begins by starsandgutters

The aftermath of dealing with the demon leaves behind a wake of emotional debris they were not – couldn’t have been – fully prepared to tackle. They all have a lot on their plate: assessing the damage, picking up the broken pieces, allowing the wounds to scar over. And, of course, there’s the matter of Adam-and-Ronan. (Or: falling in love doesn’t magically fix all problems, but maybe that’s alright.)

And a blanket rec for pretty much anything shinealightonme has written for the fandom.

[mariacallous]

Several years ago, I invited my new boyfriend to Yom Kippur at my aunt’s house. He didn’t need convincing – I think he adored my family early on – but to entice him further I made sure he knew what was on offer.

Bagels. Cream cheese. Lox.

Let’s just say he showed up on time. I knew my aunt would be thrilled when he devoured the pickled herring. (He earned similar accolades when he asked for seconds of gefilte fish at Passover.)

Jewish food, he says, is just a hop, skip and a jump from the Scandinavian food he grew up with. “It’s like the foods of my people. Foods of your people, foods of our people.”

Apart from being poetic, it was a very Jewish thing for him to say.

Now my husband, Brad is definitively non-Jewish by all religious standards. His father was raised in a big Irish Catholic family and his mother, raised in the Midwest, is of Scandinavian descent. He was the first non-Jewish person I’d met with his own proclivity for pickled fish and smoked salmon.

Among the items he always kept in his pantry — before he met me and still today — are tinned fish and Triscuits, often eaten as a meal. He and I have been on a year-long journey of finding the best “real rye bread” within driving distance in the greater Metrowest area of Boston. (Haven’t found it yet.)

To say that he embraces all things Jewish is obvious. That he loves me is only part of the reason; another is the food. 

My grandmother always had enough food to feed an army, no matter whether it was Shabbat, Passover or Tuesday. I watched as Brad became accustomed to the foods we loved and the leftovers we take pride in sharing: the containers left on the table after Yom Kippur for extra brisket, the paper bags for challah and rugelach.

But he’s taught us about food, too. Our family text chain is called “Smashburgers Unite” because of my family’s newfound favorite meal, brought to us by my husband. A better cook than I (a generous understatement), he loves cooking projects. 

At that point, my biggest cooking project I’d taken on was making latkes for Hanukkah.

It had been my job for years. I’d shove the potatoes in the Cuisinart, wring them out as best I could, and do my best guesswork with how much egg, matzah meal, onion and salt should go in. Then I’d stand at the stove and fry them, the kitchen filling with that wonderful greasy-spoon smell, as the rest of my family arrived. I laid them out as they were done, always in an inadvertent ombre from light to dark as the oil, and my patience, decreased. 

So for Brad’s first Hanukkah with us, I told him — who once made a BBQ for 40 people with no help from anyone — that I (and, by proxy, he) was in charge of latkes.

“Cool,” he said. His indifference both alarmed and relieved me. 

“It’s more work than you think,” I said.

I should have known he’d have better tricks  for peeling massive amounts of Russet potatoes and draining their water (cheesecloth! The man I’m dating owns cheesecloth?!), adding cornstarch to help the eggs adhere better to the mix, and adding enough salt so they actually tasted good. He added seasonings like zaatar, onion powder and garlic powder. He showed me how to wait until all the oil – way more than I was used to adding for frying – was shimmering, and to be patient while each side cooked.

I think he wanted to add a shallot.

“It’s not traditional,” I said.

“So?” he said.

He had a point.

The latkes that year were a hit. My family made sure he knew that it was now his task for life. They were joking, but they were also serious.

I knew he was about to take this latke-making to the next level. On the way home, he thought up different flavor combinations, like adding dill and black pepper, and what if we fried them in schmaltz – we’d have to roast a chicken first; store-bought schmaltz wouldn’t cut it – and what if we added cayenne, and what if we used different root vegetables, like turnips and rutabagas, and what if made a sweet potato version?

I was exhausted just thinking about it. The latkes take a great deal of effort, and I don’t have the same love of cooking that Brad does. Where he sees opportunity, I see how long it will take to clean up. 

Maybe we buy shredded potatoes, to make it easier? I suggested. 

But no: Everything from scratch, no shortcuts. Our first year in our new home together, we made them in our kitchen. He shredded the potatoes, I wrung them out. He set up three bowls with different seasonings and spices. I spooned them into balls, and we’d take turns at the stove, frying, flipping, frying again. We ate several between us right away – impossible not to. Yes, it was an hours-long process. But the pride I felt at bringing them home, measured by the silence while people ate and ate, was unmatched.  

I learned that the effort, the planning, the execution: it’s  a way of showing love. The energy we put into the latkes as a team made me feel closer, somehow, to the holiday and to my Jewish roots.

That first meal of jointly-made latkes also included my mom’s brisket. Over dinner, the conversation turned to other traditional Jewish foods like corned beef and pastrami. Brad pointed out that they were both brisket, just made different – something we hadn’t really ever thought about. 

He mentioned he could make a pastrami. 

Our eyes widened. 

“It’s just a matter of brining it…then smoking it…” 

So we’re in charge of both now: latkes and pastrami. 

[siarven]

I made this for cara but thought I should use it to FINALLY make a proper pinned post on here! (image descriptions in alt text)

Hello everyone (:

I thought I'd use this to properly re-introduce myself. These days I have a lot going on irl, so I'm not as interactive on here as I used to be. However, I love making new friends and getting to know their projects :D Some of my most important friends are from here, even if most of them are no longer active on writeblr (we have migrated to discord), so if you think we'd vibe pls shoot me a message!!

What you can expect:

Started out as an artblr, then turned into a writeblr, now it's mostly me collecting inspiration, art and writing references, with some infrequent original writing wip/art posts ✴︎ — more info about tags and writing below the cut — ✴︎

✴︎ — #queer tag - I reblog a lot of queer related posts, particularly about aro/ace and gender related topics

✴︎ — #inspirational - art, writing, photography, nature/environmental issues related topics, history, paleontology, archaeology; things I find inspiring and fascinating :D

✴︎ — i love all of the creatures, fictional or real, but less in a "cute videos" and more in a "I love how our world works" type way. I worked at a wildlife sanctuary for a year after school and learned a lot there. one day i will be the forever home for an old cat nobody else wants

✴︎ — sometimes I still post art and or writing, though I guess there'll be more art on Cara if you wanna follow me there (less AI threat)

✴︎ — i study concept art, work as a freelance illustrator, and am currently working on my MA thesis project "Fragments of the Infinite"

✴︎ — my main wip novel (Dream's Shadow) is probably finally getting close to being Finished. Feels somewhat surreal. idk if it's even worth querying it because it really doesn't fit into the current publishing world but it's not actually finished yet anyway so... we can worry about that later

✴︎ — very into fantasy with cool worldbuilding in particular. don't much care for elves/dwarves/.. fantasy preindustrial england type worlds, but dungeon meshi is my current obsession so if it's deeply developed and interesting enough I don't really mind :)

✴︎ — hopepunk my most beloved! i do love when characters get put through the wringer to get to their hopeful ending though. Sometimes, things are tragic in a bittersweet way, and that is okay too

✴︎ — deeply nuanced, complicated, messy morally grey characters driving the narrative

I am open to tag games, but will probably only manage to respond to like 10% of them... it's not you, it's me

Always open for DMs or asks <3

I try to tag everything as well as I can, if i forget, ask to tag <3

If you're into TMA, I have a podcast/TMA blog @moth-song-archives; my rambling animals/shitposts/memes/other fandoms/... blog is @lirhin, and I have a dedicated art blog @siarvenart

a hopepunk dark fantasy story with creepy/horror elements set in another world; small scope that transitions into epic fantasy later on

Status: draft 6.5 completed at 141k; currently mini-beta round. First in a trilogy

✴︎ —1st, 2nd and 3rd person limited, present tense ✴︎ — hopepunk, sibling dynamics, dysfunctional family, power of kindness & love, platonic love, queer characters, queer-embracing worldbuilding, mental & physical trauma, light & dark, secrets, tragedy, lies, betrayal, loss of innocence, holding on & letting go, cute creatures, (in)humanity, trees, religion & belief, growing up, monsters, dreams, nightmares.

When Ava and her parents arrive at the hospital, they find her older brother Ben in a deeply unnatural coma - and nobody can tell them what happened. Despite the magical abilities of the Asim Healers, there seems to be no way to save him. But then, why do they still keep him alive? As Ava slowly learns the magnitude of how terrible Ben's situation (and impossible his future) truly are, she finds herself embroiled in a larger conflict, ready to hook its claws into her as well. And the one person she cares about most - who always had her back - is gone. So despite everything, there's only really one choice: Find out how to save him and try anyways.

the travel journal of a young scientist, documenting the cultures, places, people and creatures she encounters on the way (art/text)

Status: storyboard/script 2nd draft completed; beta feedback

✴︎ —1st person present ✴︎ — 66 double pages of art accompanied by ~10k text ✴︎ — hopepunk, (body) horror, religion & belief, nihilism vs making your own meaning, platonic love, queer characters, queer-embracing worldbuilding, transitioning with magical body horror means, mental & physical trauma, light & dark, deep worldbuilding, eldritch monsters, loss of innocence, SO MANY creatures

Features: a tidally locked planet orbited by 5 moons and populated by giant eldritch monsters; two trans aroace main characters; body horror; so much art; the most gratuitous worldbuilding project; character driven narrative

When the fifth moon hatches during Thorn's own naming ritual, making her one of 2 people who saw it happen, she knows she's been chosen. But back at home, nobody believes what she saw, choosing to instead take the moon's disappearance as a sign of celebration as it mirrors religious scriptures. So Thorn sets out to find physical proof, and uses the opportunity to document her travels. She doesn't know that her view of the world will be thoroughly challenged, but she also doesn't know about the friends she'll make <3

I have various other wips, some of them are linked in my header. I'll return to them at some point, but these 2 are my current projects for 2024:)

[action-index]

This post will be completely different from the rest of my posts, mainly because it will be an analysis of a movie, rather than fanart. I really love Matt Johnson's work so I wanted to give The Dirties appreciation by mentioning something that I noticed about the ending scene that I don't think anyone else has talked about.

Warning: LE SPOILAZ, mentions of death

THE DIRTIES and The Symbolism in the Ending Scene, Whether Intended or Not Intended

(aka Symbolism when Matt finds Owen at the end of the movie and how it connects to the rest of the film.)

Something that never really gets noticed in the ending scene that I feel is given not enough credit is the symbolism found in what both Matt and Owen wear at the end. This could be poking at straws but even if it wasn't intended, it adds so much to the movie and just wouldn't feel the same if Matt and Owen were wearing different clothes for this scene. It mainly connects to the colors of the shirts they wear and how they connect to the general conflict between Matt and Owen within the story.

First, let us look at Matt's "WE'RE ONLY HERE FOR THE BAD GUYS" shirt.

Even when glossing over the very massive warning sign stitched in bold font, this shirt does provide some symbolism alluding to Matt's character throughout the film. Obviously a warm color, a bright, unavoidable orange.

Warm colors, more specifically in this case, orange, often provide symbolism of say, enthusiasm or energy, which Matt definitely showcases in the movie, to when he's excitedly and innocently boasting about his idea for his film project to even when he hauntingly plans to kill his own classmates. They also provide symbolism of frustration and immaturity, which Matt also showcases.

This reflects his actions in the shooting scene, where he enthusiastically ends two people's lives, his own taunting words as he kills them reflecting the frustration he felt from the words they said to him. The color reflects his actions perfectly.

Now secondly, let us show Owen's shirt:

Now the symbolism may be more weaker on this one compared to Matt's obvious warning sign of a shirt, but do bear with me here.

Obviously Owen's plain light sky blue shirt is a cool color, showcasing a passiveness and honesty, and reflects Owen's more preserved character and his preference to stay away from confrontation, compared to Matt's more enthusiastic drive.

However, the trait that seems to shine more when he wore this blue shirt in the shooting scene, is his preference to not be confronted. He actively tries to avoid Matt and runs away, fearing for his own life. He did not want confrontation because he feared for his life.

Now that I've explained the symbolism found in both shirts, I would now like to get to the point of the whole essay, is how Owen and Matt wearing these shirts near the end says so much about their character when in the same room, especially in such a tense seen as this.

The main thing I got from these outfits is that it reflects not only their personalities, but how Matt and Owen are almost complete opposites to each other.

Of course they do rub off on each other in the movie, but that's a regular thing that happens when hanging with friends; their traits start to rub off on you and influence you.

But without that, Owen is a much more unconfrontational, passive, and shy character, passionate but not wanting to exactly be the center of attention. Meanwhile, Matt is the most likely to make himself known, to share his want to be respected, show his ambition. Very much social opposites, an introvert vs. an extravert.

Blue and orange are ALSO directly opposite colors too.

I feel the best way to fully end this off and end this long rambling session is: take the shirt colors and then the concept of yin-yang and try to relate it to the, intended or not, symbolism found in the shooting scene and the outfits worn, and how it reflects Owen and Matt's characters and overall relationship.

The yin and yang are meant to be representations of direct opposites, that balance each other out. When Owen, the more passive, begins to separate himself from Matt, the enthusiastic, Matt falls apart, mainly because Owen was his only friend. The balance no longer exists. He begins to wallow in his self-isolation and ends up committing the massacre that soon takes the lives of two people. The shirt colors, both clearly oppositional, reflect the yin-yang relationship, their own personalities, and the balance they had and how it all circled back around to this very moment.

Thank you for listening.

If anyone would be down to tell their thoughts on this analysis, do let me know! This is my first time doing something like this, and I'm not usually much of a writer, so I REALLY WANT YOUR FEEDBACK. Have an amazing day :)

[commodorez]

How would one go about learning how to make something like the cactus?

Like prerequisites, older code, hardware stuff, etc.

The main prerequisites I can think of are being heavily interested in vintage computers, and having the drive to try and fail and then try again.

I started with building Grant Searle's design, borrowing from other working designs as I went. However, for the front panel? That's alot of time designing, learning, simulating in Logisim, and testing with physical logic gates to produce something 100% original and of my own design. I imagine most folks won't want to go to the trouble of designing an entire front panel state machine like I did.

The good news is that there are way more kits that can help teach the necessary skills than ever before! Most notably, Ben Eater's 6502 kit is a really great way to learn many of the things that I've put into practice here. He has a whole youtube video series associated with it, walking through concepts, construction, programming, etc. step by step. Even if you don't build one of his kits, watching them is an informative process. *I* learned alot, even after having built the Cactus.

If you're going the Z80 direction, the RC2014 series of kits can teach you plenty. There's also glitchworks kits in a few processor types, but those tend to be a bit more for the advanced user. There's the 1802 Membership Card but that's small and not really expandable. I could be here all day listing kits that can help teach and build up experience.

I should mention that I have a computer science degree in my back pocket, but learning logic gates or using assembly was only lightly touched on in the course of my studies. Most of the programming I do involved messing around in BASIC anyway.

I really didn't have a game plan for some of it, so alot of my learning process was trial and error. Alot of errors, in fact. Still making them, and learning from them. I also took the harder route to construction, since I didn't know how to use EDA tools for designing PCBs like KiCAD or Altium or Eagle (don't use Fritzing for the love of fuck).

Oh, one other thing I can recommend: reading through contemporary 1970s computing magazines like Byte (check the internet archive for back issues). There are all sorts of cool projects and ideas present that can really guide you. It doesn't hurt to have a copy of Don Lancaster's TTL Cookbook on hand (I think it's in PDF form online).

Finding a community to help you out is also a great idea. Even back in the 1970s, many folks who jump-started the home computer revolution had the Homebrew Computer Club to help them out. Community meetings to bounce ideas off of, and help one another through debugging are essential in my book -- you don't have to work in a vacuum. I've got a few places I've asked for help, most notably the Retrotech Crew discord server. I've had the benefit of friends who also have homebrewed designs like @techav, who have inspired me with their ideas, but helped me out with mine. In turn, as I've learned, I've been able to help out others.

Hopefully that answers your question. Keep 'em coming!

[vigilantethot]

DRIVING ME CRAZY

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x villain!reader

Summary: You’re a villain who steals and hops dimensions. Miguel is irritated. 

A/N: I had this concept in my head and I just had to write it. Maybe I'll make it a fic one day. I say reader is a villain but she's mostly good tbh. Just a lil selfish and a crybaby lol

Becoming a villain was the best career choice you ever made. The moral satisfaction of being a hero was great, but it wasn’t paying the bills. Sure, helping the world become a better place was cool and all- but it wasn’t enough. You liked having nice things. Cute designer shoes, nice furniture for your apartment, and 26’ bundles weren’t cheap, and you were not going to live the life you deserve by saving kittens and stopping small drug dealers. You’re a powerful superhuman, and you knew that monetizing your powers would get you everything you deserved. So, you did some digging, made some connections, and started doing “jobs” for unsavory people. You refused to be a hitman, having all that on your conscience was not worth it, so you settled on doing theft, trespassing, and other unscrupulous things for cash. Not long after that, the cash started rolling in and you were finally living the life you wanted to.

You discovered your powers at age 10 after accidentally cloning yourself at a sleepover out of fear, while watching a horror movie. Over time, you discovered that you had more powers than just Bio-Fission. You had the power of energy projection, possession, telekinesis, resurrection, and teleportation. You were basically a very powerful witch. Your parents pulled you out of school as your powers grew in your teenage years, as your powers were very hard to control at first, and often your powers only came out when you were in emotional distress. You didn't mind being homeschooled, as your friends started to avoid you out of fear, and you were tired of eating lunch at a table by yourself. You used these years to learn as much as possible about your abilities and learn how to wield them. When you reached 18, you moved out of your parents house and started a new life in New York City. You kept a low profile, making a few friends but you never divulged the information about your powers to them. 

About two years into your stay in NYC, you heard about a Spiderman. A man with superhuman strength and a red and black costume, fighting crime in Brooklyn. You were inspired, it WAS possible to use your powers and be accepted and loved! You made a makeshift costume, a simple black long sleeve shirt and black leggings. You put a masquerade mask on your face, not knowing how to sew and contract a mask like Spiderman. You started fighting crime in Manhattan, making the city a better place one day at a time. 

Then, at 24 years old, you’d had enough of trying to save the city. It wasn’t paying the bills, and you didn't want to depend on your parents your whole life. So you made the switch. 

FIRST MEETING

Finding out you could teleport through dimensions exponentially increased your salary. You weren’t just doing jobs for disgustingly rich people on your Earth, you could go anywhere! You made a name for yourself on your Earth, many rich and powerful people sought you out to steal a priceless art piece or artifact for them. Business was booming, and you started to be on Spiderman and other heroes radars. With heroes on your ass, you thought it would be best to travel to other dimensions and do jobs, until the heat was off you. 

That’s how you found yourself on Earth-928B. Some greedy CEO hired you to take something for him, a rare Diamond located in a highly secured safe. This diamond was not for sale, but the CEO insisted he needed it for his collection, so when the $200k check cleared, you made your way to the safe and started to execute your plan. Your game plan was simple, teleport into the safe, grab the diamond, and teleport out. You were then to call your boss for the evening and make your way to the drop off location, in the Four Seasons parking lot, where you were staying for the “job”.

Unbeknownst to you, Miguel O’Hara, this dimension’s Spiderman, was on your heels. He didn't really care about the crime you committed, but you were an anomaly and your presence in his universe was a threat. He got Lyla to track what hotel room you were staying in at the Four Seasons, and he knew you would be back right after the job. So he waited. He examined your room, looking for nothing in particular. You took very little with you. He found a small bag next to the bed, filled with some clothes and various toiletries. Yes, he knew he was invading your privacy, but he was intrigued by you for some reason. How were you able to just hop through dimensions? Lyla informed him about your various warrants throughout the multiverse, as well as your secret identity. He looked at your drivers license picture a bit too long, enchanted by your brown skin and bright smile. You were beautiful, and he admired your picture for a few more seconds before going back to rummaging through your bag. Your scent was very appetizing, the smell of lavender and shea butter filling his nostrils and calling to him. He came across a sexy black and red lace thong, and shamelessly held up up and nodded his head in approval. You were clearly a very stylish, sexy woman with expensive taste, just his type. Too bad he had to arrest you and forcefully send you home. 

He heard a key card go into the door, and he quickly stuffed the panties back in the bag and scrambled to a hiding spot behind the door in the dark en suite bathroom. He watched through the crack in the door and waited until you took your shoes off and moved toward the bed. You plopped on the bed, pulling out your phone and scrolled mindlessly. 

God, she really should work on her situational awareness. 

Miguel quietly made his way from behind the open door, and moved to stand in the dark bathroom doorway. You were facing away from him, playing some water sorting game on your phone as he silently made his way to the bed to grab and restrain you. 

Until his watch made a beeping sound. 

You moved impossibly fast, and he found himself impressed with you as you quickly stood up and projected an energy ball at him, causing the spot in his suit where you hit him to glitch. 

The masked intruder in your room stood completely still. He slowly raised his massive gloved hands, and you took in his appearance with wide eyes as you started to feel fear for the first time in a while. Fuck, he was huge. His stature was intimidating, and as you looked at the emblem on his chest, you started to breath harder. This colossal Spiderman is in your hotel room, and although you were very powerful, you didn't know what he was capable of. Your earths Spiderman had almost caught you once, and if he was as strong as that one, you knew you wouldn’t win this fight. 

“Relax, I’m not going to hurt you.” 

You noticed a slight accent to his words, and if you weren’t so scared you would think his voice was sexy. 

“What do you want then?” 

You spoke in a whisper, too frightened to raise your voice. He had super hearing anyway. 

“Im here to take you back to Earth 1610. Its dangerous for you to be here.”

Fuck, he knew who you were. 

He was definitely going to take you back to your Earth and give you to your earths Spiderman. You would rather die then spend your life in that prison they stick all the villains in. You tried to will yourself to teleport the fuck out of there but your powers never worked how you wanted when you were this upset. Of course. 

You made a split decision and bolted to the door, very fast, but not fast enough. Spiderman grabbed your arms from behind and you knew you couldn’t fight him off. So you cloned yourself. 

You didn't look back to see his reaction, not that you could see any expression on that mask. You bolted out of the door and made your way to the stairwell. You couldn’t just leave your clone behind, if she were to be harmed or taken you wouldn’t be able to leave without suffering. Your clone was an extension of you, a perfect mirror of yourself and if you were to leave her behind it could fracture your mind beyond repair. You would also rather die than live your days as an insane witch. 

If you were calm enough, you could will your clone to come back into your mind. You took a few deep breaths and closed your eyes. You weren’t far from your room in this stairwell, so you were quickly able to find that invisible rope that connects your minds and yanked her back. You’re attempt was successful, and feeling whole again, you teleported to a random dimension in order the get the hell away from there. You made a mental note to never do a job on that Earth again. 

Meanwhile, back in the hotel room, Miguel cursed loudly at his failure. He then made a promise to find you, before you end up traveling universes again and possibly destroying them for your own selfish gain. 

SECOND MEETING

After almost being caught by the Behemoth Spiderman, you decided not to take any jobs for a while and lay low. You chose a random Earth again, and bought a room in a luxury resort on the beach in the Maldives. You spent your days drinking daiquiris and being served Caviar by the pool. You had been working so much that you had to spare no expenses, you had more than enough money to live lavishly for a while at least. Your mind often wondered towards that Spiderman you encountered. Your Earths Spider man was a young kid, the only one alive after the death of the older Spiderman. Neither Spiderman was as big as the one you encountered, and you wondered how many other variations of Spiderman there were. And how many of them knew who you were? Shit, how many variations of you were there? The mere thought of this was overwhelming, and you quickly got up to from the Pool chair you were lounging in and made your way to the bar to get another drink, hoping a buzz would kill your existential dread. 

When that didn't work, you decided to just go back to your room and watch some reality TV and relax. You had been living this lifestyle for almost a year, and you were starting to get tired of no romantic or even platonic relationships. You had lovers in the past, but due to your lifestyle they never lasted long. You longed for a stable life now, the villain life was getting old. But you were in too deep to go back now. 

You finally made it to your room, taking your shoes off and plopping on the couch in the living room of your spacious suite. You kicked your feet up and turned on the TV, ready to watch some petty arguments and pointless drama. 

“What did I tell you about being in universes that you don’t belong in?”

You froze as you heard that familiar deep voice with that accent behind you. Behemoth Spiderman made his way from behind you and stood in front of you on the couch with closed fists, caging you in. He must’ve been in the bedroom waiting for you. 

Your mind was racing, as you looked at him with wide eyes and furrowed brows. 

“How the fuck did you find me??” 

My voice was shaky, laced with fear. 

“You need to go back to Earth 1610. You are putting this whole universe at risk with your selfishness.” 

Spiderman spoke calmly, ignoring your question, chin up and shoulders wide with confidence. He finally found you. 

Miguel obsessively searched for you for weeks, you had somehow fallen off his radar, and because you don't travel through any portals, he couldn’t track you. He alerted the spider society of your existence, and told them to tell him if they have any tips. He strongly insisted that they didn't engage with you if they found you. He wanted to catch you himself, and he needed you to understand that you couldn’t just hop in other dimensions just because you want money. He finally got a tip when the Spiderman on the Earth you were currently on informed him that you were at this resort, your cover was blown on a drunken night when you teleported into a bodega late at night because you were craving a chopped cheese. You didn’t even think anyone would notice, but the owner alerted Spiderman about your appearance after checking the security camera. He then knew that you didn't have some evil “I will destroy all universes” plan, you were just trying to find happiness and live your life the way you wanted to. He didn’t know how you would react to him finding you again, but he was prepared to lock you in Spider HQ forever if you didn't abide by his rules. 

Miguel ignored his urge to get closer to you just to smell that sweet lavender and shea butter scent that he had in the back of his mind for weeks. He ignored the urge to ogle you as you were dressed in a skimpy bikini and a sheer coverup. You were breathtaking, he was definitely attracted to you and Miguel struggled to find any more words as you looked up at him with tears in your eyes and lip wobbling. He didn't want to make you cry, he didn't want to hurt you at all. He just wanted you to listen to him and stop making dumb, selfish decisions.

“Im sorry!! Please don’t kill me! Ill do whatever you say, please, just don’t kill me!”

You wailed, you knew you were in big trouble and you knew this Spiderman was deadass about catching you, especially if he was able to track you to a whole different universe. 

“Just come with me.”

He quickly grabbed your arm and opened a portal to Spider Society HQ. You looked around at the huge building, crawling with tons of spidermen. You felt your cheeks warm up in embarrassment and you felt them staring at you. 

Holy shit, you were fucked. Behemoth Spiderman led you throughout the lobby and building by your arm, presumably to your death. You were surprised when he threw you in a red prismatic cage. You stumbled and fell to the ground in the cage, looking up at Behemoth Spiderman. You were planning to beg for your life as he took his mask off, and whatever plea you were going to say completely disappeared as you took him in for the first time.

“I didn't know Spiderman was so hot.” 

The words just fell out of your mouth without thinking, and you quickly shut your mouth in embarrassment. Miguels face was stone cold and unreadable, and his red eyes pinned you in place with his stare. He didn't acknowledge your statement. He just stared at you. 

You quickly lowered your gaze, his stare was way too intense and his demeanor was unsettling. 

“Someone will bring you food shortly. Im taking you home tomorrow.”

His statement made you snap your head back up and shake your head vigorously. You stood up, still shaking your head, tears filling your eyes.

“NO! I can’t go home! They’ll put me in prison forever! I haven’t killed anyone, just let me go and I’ll do whatever you want.” 

You tried to use your puppy dog eyes that worked on so many men before, but your attempt at trying to guilt him didn't work at all. He didn't even respond as he turned away and walked away from the little prison you were in. 

“Asshole!”

 You screamed. He stopped in his tracks for a few seconds, and you waited to see if he would turn around and let you out. He just kept walking after about 15 seconds of standing like a statue.

You banged on the glass with your hands, and tried to use your energy balls to break the cage to no avail. You slumped to the ground in defeat, tears falling. 

You were so fucked. 

Miguel watched you cry in the cage from his office, feeling guilty. Sure, you were a villain and a criminal, but you have never harmed anyone, and you truly seemed to think you weren’t putting anyone in danger with your dimension hopping. You genuinely seemed like a good person who makes bad choices. 

He hated this feeling. He hated feeling at all, he worked tirelessly just to not feel anything. This was very unlike him, he knew he could be a bit obsessive but he wanted nothing more than to wipe your tears and comfort you. 

He watched you sob for a few more minutes before deciding to do something he thought he would never do. He was going to let you out. Based on your emotional state right now, he felt confident that you wouldn’t go outside your dimension again. For now at least. 

He went back to your cage, and you stood up to look at him with teary eyes. 

“You can go back home. I won’t hand you over to Spiderman but promise me you won’t go dimension hopping again.” 

“I promise! I promise! Thank you!”

He barely got his words out before you made your promises. He slightly shook his head, amused with how much of a crybaby you were. 

He opened your cage and opened a portal to your earth, and watched you as you walked through. He fought a smile as you turned around and thanked him one last time. The portal closed, and he turned to go back to his office as he ignored the protests of the other prisoners to let them out too. 

THIRD MEETING

You knew this was bad. You knew you weren’t supposed to come back to Nueva York but after 3 months of laying low and avoiding Spiderman on your Earth, you were bored. You only took this job because of the ridiculous amount of money that was offered to you. And also to maybe get a glimpse of the sexy Spiderman again. You just couldn’t refuse. Besides, it would take only a few minutes to steal this artifact anyway. He couldn’t possibly know you were even here, right? 

The job went smoothly, the client got the artifact and you were paid handsomely. This could last you a whole year! You were so high on your success that you made the decision to quickly stop at a bar here and celebrate. Behemoth Spiderman was far from your mind as you wandered the beautiful futuristic city. You settled on a nice bar with a patio and had a drink. And another. And about 3 more. You couldn’t resist a good smoky tequila. 

You stubbed around Nueva York for God knows how long, taking in the city. This place was nice, and it didn't even smell like pee unlike your Earths New York. Your drunken haze was interrupted when you heard commotion in an alleyway ahead. You heard fighting, and some type of weapons being fired. You slowly crept up to the alleyway, determined to stop this. You might be a thief, but you won’t just let someone die like this. 

You prepared to use your powers and ran into the alleyway, right into the action. If you were sober, you would’ve had a game plan. But the tequila took over and you were ready to save the day. 

You were shocked to find Behemoth Spiderman being beaten by three large men. They seemed to have supernatural abilities, as their movement were too fast to be human. 

Wasting no time, you attacked. You summoned your power from deep inside and threw the most powerful, brutal ball of energy towards the men. Two were knocked down and wheezing, and you quickly sent another powerful ball of energy towards the last one, incapacitating him. 

Behemoth Spiderman looked at you, eyes narrowing on his suit. He stormed towards you, enraged that you were here. 

“What the fuck are you-

His rant was cut off by a shot, and you looked in terror as a huge arrow pierced through his suit and chest, poking out of both sides. 

“Oh shit!” 

You immediately sent another energy ball up to the assailant behind Behemoth Spiderman, and used your telekinesis to take the gun away from him. 

Spiderman fell to his knees, losing blood and feeling dizzy. You looked on in disbelief. You can’t just let Spiderman die. 

He reaches a shaky hand forward, and tries to say something to you before choking on his blood. 

You had to save him. You knew that he would die. You pulled the arrow out of his chest, and he collapses on the ground. He’s not breathing, and he has no pulse. You had no choice but to resurrect him. 

You put your hand on his chest, and summoned your power once again. You would need a lot to pull this off. You had resurrected things before, like cats and your house plants, but never a human. 

Guess its never too late to start, right?

You feel your power coursing through you, fingers turning black as your power grows. You put your hands on his chest, silently appreciation the pure muscle of this man. You surge your power into him, and you blackout for a few seconds while the resurrection begins. You feel his wound close and his heart starts faintly beating again. You give him your power until you feel his heart beat strongly and his breaths are even. He will be asleep for some time, as he finishes healing, so you have enough time to escape. You press his watch, trying to see if there’s a button to press of help. You touch random things until a tiny holographic woman pops up. The AI woman scans Spiderman, probably searching for injuries.

You don’t wait for it to say anything. You let out a quick “Get him help.” 

You don’t wait for help to come. You teleport back to your dimension, in your parents house. You hadn’t talked to them in a while, afraid that they might not accept your lifestyle but you know they would protect you with their life. You pass out in the living room where you teleported into, resurrections always drained your energy, but this was another level. You let sleep take you as your father lifted you and put you in your childhood bed. 

Miguel woke up confused. He was sure he died, because of you. So why was he in the medical sector of the Spider Society? He called on LYLA, and she told him what happened. He was livid that you didn't listen to his demands, but he was eternally grateful that you saved him. He knew you were a good person. Truthfully, he had thought about you all the time, wishing he could talk to you and get to know you. 

He felt incredible gratitude towards you for saving him, and he was determined to find you again, this time to thank you.

FOURTH MEETING

After making a full recovery, Miguel started to think of ways to pay you back for what you did for him. He weighed all options in his head, before finally deciding on making you a upgraded suit with the best tech, after hearing that you were back to being a hero, this time in your hometown. He was proud of you, and he couldn’t wait to see you and tell you that. LYLA commented on his affection for you,  which he very unconvincingly brushed off. 

You seemed happy, Miguel admittedly stalked your social media from fake pages to track you down. And to also admire your pictures. He really wished you had a picture in that thong he saw in your hotel room. 

The suit was finally finished, it was black with hot pink detailing. It hugged all the right places, and the gear was basically indestructible. The face mask was in the masquerade style that you always wore. He really hoped you liked it. 

He came on a Sunday. He came with no suit on, just casual clothes. He waited outside your house until your parents left before knocking at the door, anxiety at an all time high. 

You opened the door without looking who it was, thinking one of your parents forgot something. You were shocked to see the beautiful face of the man that had tracked you and imprisoned you for a few hours. 

“Lo siento, I don’t mean to bother you. I just wanted to come here and thank you for what you did for me.” 

You immediately calmed down, relived that he hadn’t come to lock you up. You had been on your best behavior, after all. You gave him a smile, which he quickly returned. He looked hot in that white tee he was wearing, it hugged all of his muscles in the best way possible. 

“Come in.” 

He followed you inside, sitting with you on the couch. You were watching that same show in the Maldives. You two sat in silence for a while, staring at each other. The silence wasn’t awkward at all, his presence calmed you and you felt safe. He was distracted by you so much he forgot why he came in the first place. 

“So what’s in that box?”

You pointed to the gift in his hand, rising an eyebrow. 

“Oh- yeah,” he cleared his throat, embarrassed that he was staring at you in silence like a creep “This is for you. I know you’ve been helping the people here and I thought that you might appreciate a new suit.” 

Your eyes widen in surprise, not only did he come to thank you but he bought a gift too? Could he get any hotter? 

You snatched the gift with a huge smile and he laughed, your happiness made him happy. 

You ripped the box open, and your jaw dropped at your gift. The suit was beautiful, and it looks like it had some seriously fancy tech. You often opted just for a black jumpsuit, but this was such an upgrade. 

You couldn’t control your excitement, and you squealed. Spiderman thought it was the cutest sound he’d ever heard. You pulled him in for a hug, which he quickly returned, melting into your embrace. 

You pulled away and ran to your room. 

“I gotta try this on! Stay put.”

He couldn’t even leave if he tried. He wanted to be here with you forever. 

When you came out, his chest tightened at how well the suit fit you. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you. He watched as you admired your new gear in the mirror, clearly pleased with it. 

“What do you think?”

He shook his head in disbelief, not understanding how someone could be so beautiful. 

“You look phenomenal.” 

You looked over to him, cheeks warming as you catch his gaze. You walk towards him on the couch, and he stands up. His eyes never leave your face and body as you come closer and closer. You stop when you’re chest to chest looking up at him with your beautiful eyes. 

“You know, you never told me your name.”

Spiderman looked down shyly.

“It’s Miguel.”

You nod, smiling. 

“Thank you, Miguel.”

He takes off your mask, putting it on the couch. 

“You’re welcome, hermosa.” 

Miguel grabs your face, leaning down and meets your lips, barely touching them, as if he’s teasing to see if you’ll pull away. When you don’t, he pulls you in for a slow, romantic kiss that takes your breath away. You don’t stop kissing, lips intertwining like you’ll pass away if you part. You don’t know much about Miguel, but you do know you could have your lips on his forever. 

[thetriumphantpanda]

congratulations on your amazing milestone my love 💜

this was nearly impossible to choose buuuut what if it was mirror sex and breath play with Dieter? what if that please?

WHAT IF I WROTE IT HAN?! WHAT THEN?! Heh. My first ever bit of Dieter writing so please be gentle with me, but I hope you enjoy regardless!

Thank you so much Han, I really appreciate the love! I think it was your reblog of my first Javi P mirror sex 👀 that made my followers explode a little, so thank you for always supporting me. 🧡

Pairing | Dieter Bravo x F!Reader

Word Count | 1.4k

Warnings | Explicit, 18+ Minors DNI. Mentions of smoking weed, MIRROR SEX, breath play and unprotected PiV sex.

Part of my 1k Smut Sensation Celebration - if you want in, check here for details - I’m accepting requests through July 15th.

He’s bored. You both are. Dieter’s break from work seemed like a really good idea at the time. A chance for him to recoup after back-to-back projects and a chance for what was a new relationship between the two of you to have time to actually blossom. Neither of you had really thought about Dieter’s need to be constantly entertained, his fingers itching to do something. Anything. All the time. 

He'd woken up from his second weed-induced nap of the day about twenty minutes ago and was already up and pacing the room, taking books from your shelf to flick through hoping something would catch his eye, or channel surfing the TV to try and find something to capture his attention. On the forty-fifth click of the television remote, because you were keeping count, you lost it. 

Pushing yourself up from the couch, you grab hold of his wrist, “I can’t fucking take it anymore.” You mumble, pulling him up and dragging him down the hallway of your apartment. 

You didn’t really have a plan on what to do once you got here, but you push him by his shoulders into your room, pushing him back until the backs of his knees hit the bed and he tumbles backwards. He grabs hold of you at the last second, causing you to tumble down with him, ending up straddled above his hips. 

You bend forward and start trailing soft kisses across his jaw, feeling his hands come to your ass where they squeeze, enough to have you whining for more. You push back slightly and feel Dieter’s already half-hard cock through his plaid pyjama pants. You loved this, the way he was always so receptive to you. You shimmy down his body a little, letting your own clothed core grind down into him. 

“Fuck, baby,” He spits out, hands flying to your hips to help guide your movements, dragging you slowly to grind against his growing erection, “Can’t believe I get to fuck you as much as I want now.” 

“I think you’ll find this was my idea,” You grin, moving to rip your tank top over your head, nipples pebbling almost immediately in the cool air of your room, “And I’ve got an idea.” 

Dieter sits himself up, wrapping his arms around your back to bring his mouth to your tits. He’s running the flat of his tongue over a nipple, using his teeth to make tiny bruises on the delicate skin around them, before he switches to the other side. It drives you wild, how this man has absolutely zero patience in any other part of his life apart from this, where he will happily spread you out and tease you for hours before giving you want you really want. One of your hands is running through the messy curls on the top of his head, the other draped across his shoulders as you continue to grind yourself down on him. You can already feel your pussy soaking through the material of your pyjamas. 

“Well, go on then,” He insists, finally pulling away from your chest, “What’s your big idea, baby?” 

You extract yourself from your place on his lap, standing at the foot of the bed, shedding the last item of clothing you were wearing, “First of all, stand up and take your clothes of.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” He shoots at you, before scrambling from the bed, t-shirt dragging over his head to join your pile of clothes on the floor. 

You know Dieter enjoys it when you boss him around like this. He likes being told what to do, how to please you best, what you like so he can do more of it and what you don’t like so he knows what to stop. He likes it when you ride him, using him to get yourself off being finally telling him he can come too. 

Watching closely as he pulls the plaid down his legs, a smirk on your lips when he grips his cock in his fist and starts pumping himself, the idea forming in your head is becoming more enticing by the second. You wordlessly walk over to the full-length mirror in the corner of your room, placing flat palms on the glass. You look over at Dieter, who is watching with glazed eyes and an open mouth as you push your ass out and spread your legs, “Well, come on, big boy,” You coax, “Come fuck me where I can watch.” 

He's behind you in minutes, spitting into the palm of his hand to coat his cock before he’s lining up with your entrance, slick from the work of his mouth on your tits, and pushing into you, slowly letting you take each and every inch of his cock until he’s buried inside you to the hilt. 

You’re making direct eye contact with yourself in the mirror, the sight of your mouth dropping open turning you on even more than you already were. Dieter lifts his head once he’s found his rhythm of slow, languid thrusts, smirking at the way you’re watching yourself. 

“Don’t I always tell you you’re the most beautiful when you’re getting fucked?” He groans into your ear, one of his hands coming to grip your chin to hold your stare steady in the reflection, “Believe me now, baby?” 

He’s picking up the pace now, you can hear the slap of skin as his hips meet the skin of your ass, and when he finally hits that sweet spot inside you, you practically sing for him, letting your eyes trail down the mirror to watch as your tits bounce with every thrust. It’s delectable, really, but it’s still not enough. 

You move one of your hands from the mirror to drag his from holding your chin, to holding your throat. You’re looking at his eyes in the mirror as the widen, his hips are getting sloppy but still manage to drive you insane. 

“Go on,” You encourage, “You can squeeze a little.” 

His wide palm is covering most of your neck, a thrill travels all the way down your spine as he does squeeze. It’s light and gentle, barely enough that you can feel it, but it’s enough to have your pussy clenching around him. 

“Harder,” You beg, and he pulls his cock almost all the way out before slamming back into, “No, Dieter, my neck, squeeze it harder.” 

He does another tentative squeeze, tightening the way his fingers are gripping the skin to the side of your neck, which moves the pressure of his palm. You can still breathe, but it’s enough for you now, a devilish giggle falling from your lip, “You like that?” He asks, having not let up with the bruising pace of his hips, “Like when I choke you?” 

He lets up the pressure so you can talk, “Love it,” You moan, and then he’s squeezing with a similar pressure again, “I fucking love it.” 

“Look at yourself,” He’s back at your ear, “Stuffed full of my cock and begging me to choke you,” He nips at your earlobe, “Put your fingers on your pussy and come for me, baby.” 

You don’t need to be told twice. You lock eyes with him in the mirror, sticking two of your fingers into your mouth, swirling your tongue over them, much like you’d done on his cock the night before, before they’re between your legs and rubbing hard and fast circles over your clit. 

Dieter applies pressure to your throat again, his grip a little tighter than the last time, and you’re done. The pressure at your neck means you can do nothing by let a whine drop from your lips as pleasure bursts through your body to settle on every nerve ending you’ve got. Your legs feel like jelly, if it wasn’t for Dieter finally pulling his palm from your neck to hold your hips as he brought himself to the edge, you’d have fallen. 

He’s pulling himself out of you, fisting his cock a few times before you can feel the warm ropes of cum spilling over your lower back and your ass. You feel him run one of his fingers through the mess he’s made, before he’s bringing his fingers to your face and watching in the mirror as you suck the finger into your mouth, tasting him. 

“So fucking hot, baby,” He’s smirking, reaching down for the t-shirt he was wearing yesterday, thrown to the floor without a second thought, before he’s using it to wipe the rest of his cum from your skin, “You wanna get high and order noodles?” 

You turn around, letting your back hit the cool glass of the mirror as he kisses you, “Hell yeah, I wanna get high and order noodles,” You grin against his lips, “You’re rolling though.”