#i did end up throwing up about an hour or so in

[reidmania]

a moment | s. reid

summary: two times there was a ‘moment’ between you and spencer, and one time he did something about it.

warnings; best friends to lovers, fem reader, pinning, this based off a lorelai and luke edit i saw, idk if its edited or makes any sense tbh!! sorry! longing, kinda self doubt idk, happy ending yay!!

an; this is for lia. And was written in like an hour so i really dont want the hate guys. If it sucks i cannot be held responsible.

You walk into the bullpen, scanning the usual chaos of the bullpen The day’s already running long, and it’s barely even noon.

"Look who finally decided to join us," Spencer says, glancing up from his desk. His eyes are sharp behind his glasses, but there’s a smirk tugging at his lips. He’s half-hidden behind a wall of case files, as always, but somehow manages to throw his snark with precision.

you and spencer had been best friends since you started together, you got along with anyone but gravitated towards Spencer more than anyone else. Him and Penelope were the easiest for you to be around, you loved everyone but you had your favourites.

While Penelope had been bugging you to either kick up the courage to do something about your friendship with Spencer, or move on, you did neither.

"Oh, save it,," you fire back, tossing your bag on your desk. "I’m fashionably late. It’s a thing."

"Yeah, fashionably late in a profession like this. Very chic. Theres other ways to get here you know — from your house-“

“Don’t even” you cut him off.

“Im just saying if you keep missing the same turn off every time maybe it’s a sign you should be going a different way.” He muttered.

“I didn’t miss the turn off.” You argued. You lied.

“You did.”

“No”

He said your name and you huffed.

You roll your eyes, biting back a grin as you sink into your chair. "Can we pretend, just for today, that you’re not right?"

"Well," Spencer says, leaning back in his chair, "I’m only right about ninety-seven percent of the time. So, technically, you’ve got a three percent chance of being right today. Want to take a gamble?"

You throw a crumpled paper at him. "Your math is annoying."

He catches it, eyes twinkling, and throws it back at you. "Annoying?"

“Yes, annoying. It hurts my head”

It’s easy between the two of you—this banter, this back-and-forth. It always has been, ever since the first case you worked together. Over time, it’s become second nature to tease him, push his buttons, and he always gives it right back. The tension slips away with every joke, but today, there’s something different about the way his eyes linger on you a beat too long, like he’s waiting for you to catch on.

You ignore it. You have to.

"So, what do we have?" you ask, holding out your hand for the file in his lap.

He passes it to you, fingers brushing against yours. It’s brief, but the touch sends a spark up your arm. Your eyes meet for a second longer than necessary, and for the first time in a long time, you don’t know what to say.

Spencer clears his throat, looking back down at the file. "This unsub’s a real charmer. I think he's using manipulation tactics to lure his victims. He’s got a pattern, but it’s subtle. Took me a while to piece it together."

"Took you a while? So, like... five minutes?" You grin, but the edge in your voice is gone, replaced by something softer.

He laughs, a sound that always surprises you because it’s rare, but so genuine. "Try thirty. It was a real struggle."

"Wow. I almost feel bad for you."

His smile fades just a little, and when he looks at you again, there’s that shift. Something hovers between you, just under the surface, where the teasing usually stays. His eyes flicker over your face, and suddenly, you wonder if he’s about to say something else, something that would cross the line you’ve never acknowledged before.

Your heart skips, and before you can stop yourself, you lean forward a little. Your breath catches.

"So..." Spencer starts, but before the sentence can land, your phone buzzes on your desk. The sharp sound breaks the moment like a snapped thread. You jerk back, grabbing your phone.

"Hotch needs us in the conference room," you mutter, more to yourself than him, trying to get a grip on the swirling thoughts in your head. "We’ve got a lead."

Spencer blinks, clearly shaken out of whatever that was, and you stand up quickly, focusing hard on the case and not on the fact that you were about two seconds away from… what? Leaning in? Kissing him?

No. That’s not what this is. This is Spencer.

"Race you to the conference room?" he asks suddenly, the playful lilt back in his voice, but there’s still something lingering behind his eyes, a question neither of you seems ready to ask.

"Race? You’re literally taller than me, that’s cheating. I’m wearing heels!!"

"You can run in heels, can’t you?" He shoots you a smirk, the tension easing just enough for you to relax, even if your heart is still racing.

"Could. But i don't want to damage my gorgeous shoes," you huffed, yet already heading for the door.

"Gorgeous shoes?" He repeated, raising his eyebrow.

"Yeah that was actually the name of the shoes when i bought them. They had 'gorgeous shoes' written in big letters across the box." You smiled, tilting your head.

"Really?"

"No."

You make it halfway to the conference room before he catches up, the two of you slipping back into your usual rhythm. But as you walk into the room side by side, the unspoken thing still hangs between you. You don’t talk about it, and maybe you never will, but it’s there.

“Are you still coming over tonight?” He asked, looking down at you, eyes lingering on yours. You nod.

“It’s pizza night. Of course I am.”

And once again, you’re reminded that with Spencer, things have never been as simple as just best friends.

You’re standing in Spencer’s tiny kitchen, flour everywhere. And when you say everywhere, you mean it—on the counters, in your hair, smeared on his cheek where you definitely didn’t mean to slap him with dough earlier.

“This is going really well,” you deadpan, holding up the limp, misshapen pizza dough.

“Um.” He squints as he looks at the mess.

“Well.. you’re the genius who can outsmart anyone but apparently can’t figure out yeast,” you argue, pinning the blame on him. “Is it supposed to look like this?” You muttered, tilting your head.

“I think it’s fighting back. Maybe we’re the victims now.”

You both dissolve into laughter, the kind that makes your stomach hurt. This was supposed to be simple. Homemade pizza sounded like a cute idea, something easy to do on a night off, but it’s turned into chaos. The dough’s not cooperating, the sauce might be too watery, and you’re pretty sure you added way too much garlic. But that’s what makes it fun.

"Okay," Spencer says, hands raised in surrender. "I officially give up. This dough has outsmarted me."

"You’re giving up? Dr Spencer Reid, defeated by pizza dough?" You snatch the rolling pin from him, trying to take over, but the second you press down, the dough tears. "Okay, maybe it’s smarter than both of us."

Spencer steps closer, leaning over your shoulder to inspect the mess you've made. You can feel the warmth of him behind you, and for just a second, everything feels different. The banter pauses. His breath is soft on your neck, his arm brushing against yours as he reaches to touch the dough. Your heart stutters, and you freeze, unsure of what to do next.

But then, with no warning, Spencer flicks flour at you.

"Hey!" you squeal, spinning around to face him, eyes wide. He looks so pleased with himself, a mischievous grin on his face.

"What? You had flour in your hair. I was just trying to help.”

"Sure, you were." You reach for the bag of flour, holding it up threateningly. "I will not hesitate to make this a war, Spencer."

He grins widely, almost daringly.

You grab a handful of flour and toss it at him in retaliation. "You are such a child."

“I’m just helping!” he protests, dodging your attack and grabbing the rolling pin like a shield. His laughter is contagious, and soon you’re both caught up in it, the tension slipping away into something lighter, easier.

You try to swipe more flour at him, but he grabs your wrist, stopping you mid-throw. His fingers wrap around your wrist gently, but the touch sends an unexpected shiver up your arm. You both freeze, the room suddenly too quiet again, his hand lingering on yours for just a second longer than necessary.

His gaze flickers down to where his fingers rest against your skin, and then back up to meet your eyes. There’s a pause, just long enough for the air between you to thicken, something unspoken hanging between you. His thumb brushes your wrist lightly, and you wonder if he feels it too—the tension that’s been simmering all night, just beneath the surface.

You swallow hard, pulling your hand away, but not before you catch the briefest flicker of something in his expression. It’s gone as quickly as it appeared, and just like that, the moment slips away.

His eyes narrow playfully, and for a second, you think he might call your bluff. But instead, he just chuckles and steps back, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. Let’s not escalate this. We’re adults, after all."

"Adults who can’t make pizza," you mutter, dumping the ruined dough into the trash. "Guess we’ll have to order in. Again."

Spencer wipes his hands on a towel, still smiling. "I’ll let you pick the place this time. As long as it’s not that one with the weird crust you made us try last month."

"Oh come on, that was a bold choice! You just have no sense of adventure."

"I have a very good sense of adventure," he says, leaning casually against the counter, his eyes sparkling in that way that makes you feel like he knows exactly how to get under your skin. "I just like my pizza to taste like pizza."

You roll your eyes, but you’re grinning, too. "Fine. We’ll get the boring pizza this time."

As you both settle into the living room, waiting for the pizza to arrive, you can't help but feel that lingering tension again. The kind that sneaks up on you when things get quiet, when the laughter dies down, and it’s just the two of you sitting side by side, closer than necessary.

You smile, nudging him with your elbow. "Who knew you were such a terrible cook, though?"

"I think we share equal blame here."

"Maybe," you admit, glancing at him. His eyes catch yours, and for just a moment, the playful air between you shifts. It’s small, like the brush of his hand earlier, like the way he’s looking at you now. Your heart skips again, and you wonder—just for a second—if maybe, possibly, you weren’t imagining it. You ignore it, there was too much that could go wrong if you didn’t.

It’s late in the afternoon when you hear the knock at your door. The sun's still out, casting a soft golden light through your living room windows, but it’s the last thing on your mind.

You’re dressed in something more put together than usual because, of course, Penelope had insisted on setting you up on this date tonight. It wasn’t exactly what you wanted, but she’d been so enthusiastic that you’d caved. You’d said yes to humor her, to get her off your back.

She had insisted that you needed something to get your mind off Spencer. You wondered if that was actually possible.

So when the knock comes, your stomach churns, thinking it might be the guy arriving too early. But when you open the door, it's not your date.

It’s Spencer.

He’s standing there, hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket, hair slightly disheveled, and there’s a look on his face you can’t quite place. It’s tight, maybe a little frustrated, though he's trying hard to keep his expression neutral.

“Spence?” You lean against the doorframe, arching an eyebrow. “Everything okay?”

He doesn’t answer right away, eyes scanning you briefly before he looks down, then back up again. There’s tension in his posture, the kind you recognize when he’s overthinking something. “Yeah. Yeah, everything’s fine.”

You don’t buy it for a second. “Uh-huh.”

His face tightens even more, though he tries to hide it with a half-hearted shrug. “Did Penelope set you up with some guy?”

“Yeah?” You squinted trying to figure out how he knew that. You hadn’t mentioned it, you didn’t want to talk about what had caused your sudden date or have to lie to him about why Penelope suddenly set you up when you have shown no intention of being interested in dating.

“Penelope told me. Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked, running his hand through his hair as if he was stressed. You didn’t understand, not really. You told Spencer everything so you could understand why he would be annoyed that you didn’t tell him this, but it seemed as if he took it personally.

You squint at him, crossing your arms. “What is your issue? You look like you want to strangle someone.”

He lets out a huff, avoiding your eyes again. “It’s nothing.”

You tilt your head, studying him. There’s something under the surface, and you’re not about to let it go. “Well you’re here so, obviously its not nothing … What’s going on?”

He finally looks up at you, his eyes sharp and filled with something you haven’t seen before. It catches you off guard for a moment. “It’s just—there was a moment.”

You blink, thrown by the sudden shift. “A moment?”

His voice drops, a little rougher now, a little more real. “Last week. When we were making pizza, and the week before that— and during- there was a moment.”

Your heart skips. You know exactly what he’s talking about, but you stay silent, letting him continue.

“I thought there was a moment,” he says, his frustration starting to leak through his words now. “I thought maybe something was… happening.”

Your chest tightens, the air in the room shifting as you meet his eyes. “There was.”

The confession comes out of your mouth before you even realize it, and the tension between you two spikes instantly, filling the space with an electric charge. You can feel it, the way everything has changed with those two words.

Spencer just stares at you, his brow furrowing slightly, like he hadn’t expected you to admit it. He takes a step forward, you step back almost unconsciously, and your heart beats faster in your chest.

“What are you doing?” you ask, your voice low, unsure.

He doesn’t stop moving, closing the gap between you even more, and his voice is soft but firm when he speaks. “Will you just stand still for a minute?”

Before you can say anything, before you can even process what’s happening, his hand comes up to cup the side of your face, and his lips are on yours.

The kiss is soft at first, almost tentative, but it’s full of all the unspoken things that have been building between you for so long. You feel the world tilt, your hands instinctively moving to grip the front of his jacket, pulling him closer. For a second, everything else fades away—your date, the case, everything.

When you finally pull back, breathless, you just stare at each other. His thumb brushes lightly across your cheek, and his eyes search yours, full of something that feels too big to name.

Neither of you says anything for a long moment, the silence thick and heavy with everything that’s just shifted between you.

Then, as if in slow motion, you take a small step forward. It’s your turn now, the tables flipped, and you can see the surprise flicker in his eyes as he instinctively steps back.

“What are you doing?” he asks, echoing your earlier words, his voice low and a little breathless

You give him a small smile, feeling the tension twist tighter in your chest. “Will you just stand still for a minute?” You mirrored his words

His eyes widen slightly, but he doesn’t move, and before he can say another word, you close the space between you and kiss him again.

This time, it’s different. There’s no hesitation, no second-guessing. The kiss is deeper, more insistent, and you feel his hands tighten around your waist, pulling you closer. It’s like everything you’ve both been holding back is finally breaking free, all the tension and the unspoken feelings rushing to the surface.

When you finally break apart, you’re both breathing heavily, faces inches from each other. Your hands are still gripping the front of his jacket, his fingers still digging into your sides like he’s afraid to let go.

You don’t move, neither of you do. You just stay there, staring at each other, and for the first time in a long time, you’re not thinking about the job, or the cases, or anything else. It’s just him.

He’s the first to break the silence, his voice quiet and almost disbelieving, He exhales, a long, relieved breath, his hand still resting on your waist. “I thought maybe I was imagining it.”

You shake your head, feeling a strange warmth bloom in your chest. “No. You weren’t imagining it.”

Another beat of silence passes, and then his lips quirk up into that small, crooked smile you’ve always liked so much. “Well, I guess we have Penelope to thank for this.”

You roll your eyes but can’t help smiling back. “Yeah, and she doesn’t even know it.”

His thumb brushes your side, a subtle touch, but enough to send a shiver up your spine. “Are you… still going on that date?”

The question hangs in the air between you, and for a moment, you almost laugh. The idea of leaving now, of going out with some guy Penelope set you up with, feels absurd.

“No,” you say, your voice steady and certain. “I’m not.”

His smile widens, just a little. “Good.”

You grin up at him, feeling lighter than you have in weeks. “Yeah? Why’s that good?”

Spencer’s gaze softens, and for the first time, you see the real reason for his frustration, for all of this. He steps even closer, so close that you can feel his breath on your lips, his voice low and sincere.

“Because, there was a moment.”

Your heart stutters in your chest, and you meet his eyes, that familiar warmth spreading through you again. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he says, his lips ghosting yours, and the last bit of tension that’s been sitting between you melts away completely. He smiles, and before either of you can say anything else, he closes the gap and kisses you again.

[nerdy-hyperfixations]

Listen, I love Fiddlestan as much as the next guy, but where did we start getting the idea Ford was cold and dismissive towards Fidds during their time working on the portal???

I could totally be wrong because I haven't read every single GF related thing (hell, my journals aren't decoded because I'm a slacker), but like??? The first time he saw him, he bought him his favorite snacks *and* a whole ass banjo and said he'd make it his mission that Fiddleford would be comfortable in his home.

They go adventuring together and talk about things like fashion trends and the future and go stargazing.

Ford is *so* happy when Fiddleford returns that he hugs him immediately. Abd then he feels bad that Fiddleford feels bad about his failing marriage that he throws him a holiday party even though he doesn't celebrate and hates the holidays honestly. And he put on Fiddlefords favorite song (which he despises and honestly? ME TOO FORD. I HAVE BEEF WITH THAT SONG) and drank seemingly spiked eggnog with him despite not usually liking to drink. So that he could make Fiddleford feel better.

He also just openly adores everything Fiddleford does. Maybe it's only in his journals. You could argue he doesn't say it out loud but, like, he exclusively describes him as impressive all of the time-

And I get where it's coming from in like a "oh he's a workaholic who has the pressure of Bill breathing down his neck that he has to be working on the portal 24/7." And like yeah, but in the pages he's a workaholic he's a workaholic practically begging Fiddleford to stay up with him because he loves working along side him. Fiddleford and him work *together.*

Like the page where they're sorta fighting with each other because Ford wants to work more its not "leave me alone Fiddleford, I have to do this" it's "hey! How come you won't stay up with me! Ugh this is so unfair that you're going to bed even though you know I plan to continue working for another hour."

I'm just saying if Fiddleford wanted to cuddle, I imagine Ford's response would be "Oh! Awesome, I love spending time with him 🥰🥰🥰" but he'd just end up using Fidds' back as a table for his studies. Or they'd do that thing where one of them is working on a desk and they sit on one chair in each other's arms.

And, while we're here, realistically? Emotionally stunted, slapped by more women than He's dated, "I can't cry in front of people, and the only thing I'm good for is my fists." Stanley Pines??? He's not cuddling shit. He's got that toxic masculinity ingrained into him. It doesn't matter how incredibly touch starved he is, cuddling is too emotionally intimate and "girly" for him. Honestly if Fiddleford tried to cuddle him he'd probably throw him in a headlock because he's also been on the streets for years now with people constantly trying to attack him.

And I'm not saying this to diss on Fiddlestan. Again, I *like* Fiddlestan! But when I read "Ford could never appreciate him like Stan could" I don't understand it.

They so clearly bonded well together, and if Ford truly was being an asshole (or not an asshole, but just generally unpleasant even when he wasn't possessed) the whole time, I doubt Fiddleford would've stayed. Nostalgia and physical attraction can only get you so far, and Fidds is already facing the horrors in Gravity Falls, Stanford has to be a hell of an amazing person to make someone want to stay. Like, he's a grown adult. Sure he really wanted to impress Ford and allotted himself to be "the tech guy to Ford's smarts" but if he wanted to leave, he could've. And there didn't seem to much keeping him there. Especially when he was having doubts on the portal.

[emmyrosee]

Pls pls pls help a girl out!!

Its shark 🦈 week and whenever I’m in shark week I crave angst full on body angst ne you write it best 😭 pity me

I write it the best…? 🥺🩷 also no specific character in mind for this, but yall are married so 🫶🏻

————-

You’ve been yelling at each other for hours.

The circles of verbal assault haven’t slowed its pace, vile, cruel words flying from one mouth to pierce the heart of the other, only for the other words to come harder, meaner, louder. The throes of anger keep you both pinned in place, unable to stop, think, and see the damage you’re causing each other.

Your hands are swollen from your fists being so tightly balled, migraine forming from your scowling. His brows are stuck pinched in the center of his forehead, so deep you’re convinced they’ll stay there for days after you’re done. His teeth are grit so tight together that you want to massage his jaw to make them loosen before he shatters his pearly whites into pieces.

The culprit? A cold cup of tea, that now sits to the side dejectedly.

Because of that cold cup of tea, you’ve been screaming for two, going onto three hours, with no end in sight.

But, it’s not about the cold tea. It’s about the fact that the urgency in your love is gone, the quickness and determination to be with each other has dissolved into nothing but sugar melting in a mug of tea. Your time together has been awkward, it’s been minimal, and in your search to do something nice for him, like a warm cup of tea, he allowed it to get cold, and… what happened next?

There’s boundaries being crossed, lines of truce being broken as you cast vicious words against each other, the use of insecurities to make the other crumble and conjure a look of hurt, only to morph to disgust and yell back something even more heinous.

And yet…

“What did I even marry you for?” He snarls, throwing his arms out. “I’m certain it wasn’t for this! So why are we wasting our time right now?”

Your world stops.

In an instant, all words die on your tongue. Your mouth opens and closes like a fish as all you can think about are his words. They repeat in your head, almost in slow motion, as your heart sinks in your chest.

“What…?” you croak. Your throat is dry, mouth cottony, and you silently pray to anything, holy and not, merciful and malicious, that you didn’t hear him right. Your mind is lying, so tired of fighting you’re seeing the worst in him as a defense mechanism.

“You heard me,” he barks. “Your life is so miserable? You hate it here so much? GO.”

You heard him right.

You wished you hadn’t.

Your arms come up to cradle yourself in comfort, the fire swirling in your chest now extinguished, the once lively fight now being reduced to a ringing in your ear.

You’d… when did he…

“You don’t get to sit here, call me a cheater, a loser, a liar, all for your own good mind. Not when I’ve put my whole LIFE into you. I gave you my WHOLE. LIFE.”

“Why…”

“What?” He snarls.

You sniffle. Your bottom lip wobbles, and you blink a line of scalding tears out; you’re surprised they don’t sizzle your flesh from being so hot with frustration.

“Why… are you being so mean?”

“Mean?” He snaps. “Mean, you’ve called me some of the cruelest shit I’ve ever heard in your vocabulary, but I’m being mean? Do you even hear yourself, IM THE MEAN ONE?”

“Do you really wonder why you married me…?”

Your voice is so quiet, you wonder if he heard you.

He opens his mouth to spew his venom, only to stop dead in his tracks. His brows soften as his eyes widen, jaw slacking subtly. For the first time tonight, the room is quiet; still thick enough to cut the tension with a blade, but it’s quiet enough where you both can gather your thoughts.

You wipe your nose with your arm, “do you really think I want to stay here and fight with you? Is that how you think I want to spend my night with you?” You sob softly, “because it’s not. I don’t want to fight with you over cold tea… I don’t want to…”

You can practically see the lightbulb over his head light up. That’s right, you think to yourself. This is about tea.

“I…”

“I don’t question why I married you,” you whimper. “I know exactly why- because I love you. But the man I know would never, and I mean never, verbally assault and question his love for me over a cold. Cup. Of. Tea.”

“I don’t…” he shakes softly. “How did we get here…?”

“You started this war,” you hiss. “I didn’t.”

“Baby…”

“Don’t you fucking baby me,” you snap. “No. You don’t get to do that as a way to weasel out of this. You’re not going to guilt me with pet names to forgive you.”

“No, no, baby- damn, no, I mean-“

“You know what?” You pull your lips down into a frown and throw your hands out in defeat. “You want me gone so bad? I’m gone.”

“No, no, wait,” he begs, reaching out for one of your hands. You whip them back like he’s made of fire, and he reels away, as if keeping you safe, “no, I don’t want you to leave. I don’t question my love for you, I’d rather die than ever have you wonder if I love you-“

“Then you’d better have a goddamned good explanation for this,” you hiss. “Because right now? We’re done.”

“No!”

“I’m…” your strength is gone. Your lip quivers and your hand comes up to cover your mouth, and you wail as you make a dash out of the room, darting for the bedroom. You lock the door and slam your fist against the wood, screaming, howling in agony at the heartbreak of potentially losing your husband over a cold cup of tea.

Things spiraled so far out of control, that he questioned his love for you. How are you to come back from that? Angry words are truth shrouded in cruelty, and you are not going to let him berate you in such a manner as to wonder if this marriage was a good choice. You deserve far more, far better, than that.

On the other side of the door, you hear a soft poomf, then a thump. You stop crying to try and figure out the noises and their purpose.

“I’m here,” he says quietly, a far different tone from how he was speaking to you not three minutes ago. “I won’t try to come in. I won’t make you talk to me. But I’m here… and I love you. And I’m sorry.”

“Bite me,” you choke.

You hear him sigh through his nose, “I… I know why I married you,” he whispers. You don’t say anything. He continues regardless, “because you’re you. And on our first date, you were late because you hated the outfit you had planned, but you looked so fucking good, I couldn’t handle it. And it was that day, I decided I wanted to wait for you, forever. You are more than worth waiting for. And…” you hear him clear his throat, but there’s an emotional block in his voice, “I’ll keep waiting for you. Right here, on this floor. I’ll sleep, I’ll eat, I’ll piss I’ll die here, I don’t care, I’m right here. And I’ll stay here to prove that you’re worth waiting for.” He shudders.

“I’m happy to wait for you.”

———

haikyuu: daichi, kageyama, tsukishima, kuroo, yaku, iwaizumi, mattsun, hanamakki, oikawa, kyotani, ushijima (different font), kita (also different font), atsumu, osamu, suna, sakusa, meian

bnha: bakugou, dabi, hawks

jjk: gojo, geto, nanami, sukuna, toji, shiu

tokyo rev: baji, draken, mikey, hanma, rindou

[86espresso]

where do we go now? | qh43

-> 1.7k

sum: you’re the best in my life and I lost you

warnings: HAPPY ENDING in the second part don’t run away, not as heartwrenching as the song I promise, breaking up, angst, feeling like a pile of emotionless trash ❤️, she/her for reader, use of y/n. you’re Quinn’s age and your favorite flowers are marigolds btw.

a/n: I love this song, it hurts so bad <3

You flop on the couch, looking disheveled and tired. Junior year really brings out the worst in everyone. Quinn, who was sat at its end, immediately threw aside his phone and put his sole attention on you.

“Hi, Goldie. How was school?”

“Horrible. I’ll kill mys-” 

“Okay, okay I won’t let you finish that,” he muses. “I worry about you sometimes.”

“You don’t need to, Q. I’ve got it under control. Swear on Jack’s life.”

“I can’t decide if that’s reliable.”

“Hey!”

The younger boy was the one who gave you the nickname after your favorite flowers, and as annoying as he can be, he never fails to make you smile.

“Alright, boys. No need to throw hands. Quinn, could you wake me up in twenty minutes? Carla’s coming over for tutoring.” You add sleepily as you lay your head on Quinn’s lap, and he immediately threads his fingers through your hair, giving you a gentle scalp massage and acknowledging that he heard you. You really could get used to this everyday, til junior (closest thing to hell on earth) year ends.

The tutoring session with Carla goes by fast since its always fun with her sharp personality. She always has the right words at the top of her tongue. Which is why it was concerning to see her quiet after the session was over. 

“What’s up, Car?” 

“I don’t know,” she sighs, running a hand through her short hair, “You- well, it’s weird since I don’t seem like the type to talk about these things-”

“Spit it out, Carla,” You deadpan. 

“You’re, like, in love with Quinn, right?”

It catches you off guard and you check the door of your designated room in the Hughes’ house to be safe before answering, “Yeah?” 

“Do you ever plan on telling him?” 

You can’t help the way all of your insides turned to mush, “I did, actually. A couple of days ago.”  

You flushed as you remembered that night. 

You and Quinn had just sat down to study for the same stupid French exam you both needed to take. It was exhausting but studying with your favorite person made it so much better. 

“You know, you’re, like, my best friend.” 

You pause, but continue a moment later because you knew that Quinn could sit in silence for hours with everyone except you. 

“Yep.” 

“Okay.”

You laugh through your nose, he might be the most endearing person ever. 

“I love you.”

Now. 

You would’ve lied if you said you didn’t feel your stomach lurching in a good way. 

“I love you, too? Quinn, what’s-?” 

“It’s like.” He shuts his textbook. “You’re the one person who knows me inside out and you’re, like, always there for me. And I-“ he huffs, running a hand through his hair as if he couldn’t find the right words, slightly distracting you with his bicep. 

“I don’t know what I would do without someone as constant as you in my life, y’know?”

Quinn was definitely more empathetic than his brothers, but the sentiment was almost too much for you to handle. 

So, the sudden bravery and burst of emotion in you decided that you will not start crying and instead throw your notebook to the side and straddle his lap. And cup his face. 

As soon as you realized what you did, mortification took over all of your senses and before you could clamber off of Quinn’s lap, he puts his hands firmly on your hips to lock you in place. 

“Goldie,” he murmurs your sweet nickname as if in a trance. 

“Can I-?” 

“Please.”

His voice was borderline desperate when your lips collided in a firm, dizzying kiss. It started to escalate when the kisses went from soft to feverish and his hands were all over your body and tangled in your hair, French textbooks long forgotten. 

“I love you so much more, baby,” You managed to say between pants and stolen kisses here and there while you and Quinn stayed intertwined. That’s when he shoved your face into his chest so you wouldn’t see the blush on his face. 

You two eventually broke apart because it really was super late and even with the adrenaline, you weren’t sure if you could stay awake any longer. 

So, you and Quinn made your ways to your separate rooms, grinning like complete idiots but not without sharing a goodnight embrace. 

“Shut the actual fuck up.” Carla snaps you out of your trance, jaw hitting the floor. “Honestly, I never thought you would ever grow the balls to do that.” You could never stop smiling around Carla. 

“Well, I did grow the balls and you weren’t finished with what you were going to say.”

She looked uncomfortable again. You spared her the misery and said it for her instead. 

“Jack.”

“Oh god.” 

She buried her head in her hands. 

“I can’t have a crush. That’s literally so embarrassing, golds.”

“It’s absolutely not embarrassing, Car. It’s okay to like someone if they’re worth it, y’know?”

“I don’t like him.”

Sure she didn’t, but you ended it at that.

One thing you learnt from being the oldest child with neglectful parents was to lock up your own feelings and put them away in some dusty top shelf while you attend to others.

And now it was almost the end of senior year. 

The Hughes’ knew you since you walked into their life at 11 years old. They all, especially Quinn, understood you better than anyone else. 

They started noticing small changes. 

How you stopped spending special time with Luke where you both did his homework and helped with girl problems. How you stopped organizing pranks with Jack and his friends and having witty banters. How you’d started to shy away from Quinn’s touch and become nervous-uncomfortable around him rather than nervous-giddy.

Every time he would praise you, you would think of the lower than average score you got on the test earlier. Every time you two were out for lunch, you would remember how you started falling off in your favorite sport, and your hunger would go away. You felt sick to your stomach about every little thing you did. 

Quinn isn’t that much of an idiot though. He knew you needed space so he avoided prodding too much. 

“Hey, goldie”

You let out a soft hum, acknowledging that you heard Luke before he takes a seat next to you, a spot where you were usually found overlooking the vast lake. Luke would always be a little brother to you, even now that he’s 15 and understands so much more than he did when he was 7. 

“You’re sad,” he noted. The corner of your lips twitched.

“Not anymore, Lu, and you don’t need to worry about me,” you gave him a glance before shifting the conversation to him and asking about school and hockey. He took the bait, bless his heart, and talked while you gave the occasional hum and raise of your eyebrows. He knew not to be offended; you weren’t exactly… you anymore.

“You know.” He breaks the few minutes of silence. “If there’s something that’s really bothering you, you should tell us. Or at least Quinn. He’s worried.”

You were wrong. The little boy you grew up with wasn’t stupid enough to take the bait.

For the first time in days, tears sprang to your eyes. You look up at the sky that was getting darker with time, just like you.

“it’s just- everything, I feel so useless and sad and I’m always snappy, and.” You take a deep breath. “Quinn’s moving. He has his whole life planned out. And, so do you and Jack. What the hell am I supposed to do? Michigan is so far away from Vancouver, I don’t even know my majors yet I just-” You stop, because the boy who you were almost four years older to didn’t deserve to hear your worthless problems.

Regardless, he pulls you into a tight hug without intentions of letting go.

“Y/N.” You momentarily freeze at the lack of your nickname. “All of us can’t really imagine a life without you. Those stupid things don’t decide your worth. You mean so much to us, goldie.”

You knew his words held meaning, but you couldn’t bring yourself to believe them.

The next day, you were found at the same spot. Not by Luke this time, but by a softer, deeper voice that used to be sugar to your ears. Still is, but clouded with the mess of emotions in your head. Or lack thereof.

“Hey, baby.” The pet name actually did something to your stomach this time. You don’t deserve to be called baby by him.

“Hi,” You whispered back. You look up at him as he he sits next to you, mustering a small smile because its the least he deserves. He seems to light up at the slight display of emotion, and leans in to kiss your forehead.

You don’t deserve to be taken care of so gently.

You don’t deserve any of it.

His touch was so comforting but it felt like poison. You lean into it and pull away because this may be the last time you ever talk to him.

“We need to break up, Quinn.”

He’d spoken softer words to you at first but it escalated. He couldn’t be blamed for fighting back, because the girl he knew, the girl he laid his heart out for, wasn’t there anymore all of a sudden. His eyes were teary and yours were dull and dry. 

“Quinn, I’m leaving and you need to stay away from me.”

“No.”

“You look so hopeful, trying to convince me that we- we were made for each other and we’re supposed to last forever and that I have it figured out as well as you do. We are so different, Quinn. It was never going to work out.”

“Just-” he ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “If it’s the space that you need, you know where I am.” His voice had grown soft, but you had already turned your back. 

The rest of it was a haze; packing the few clothes you brought with you to Michigan, leaving without telling anyone. Except Jack, who saw you packing through the doorway and got sad, knowing exactly what’s going to happen.

You went to your aunt’s home after that, which was in a small town that was annoyingly close to Vancouver. It was serene and quiet and Carla had committed to college there. 

If it’s the space that you need, you know where I am.

/

so part two yes no idk

love u all 💗

[not-xpr-art]

Len and Tommy's life told through nine photos ~

A fanart based on the Inside no 9 episode 'Bernie Clifton's Dressing Room' because I loved it so much!

(09/2024)

See below for close ups and unnecessarily detailed explanations of each individual artwork lol

First wanna say that I spent wayy too long on these (like 25+ hours), especially trying to make them look like actual old photos lol... also trying to get their likeness right for the various ages was really bloody hard lol, but hopefully each photo has the essence of each character even if it might not look 100% right pfft...

Second thing is that the dates & locations are very much my own subjective thoughts on their life and not particularly rooted in the canon of the show lol

Also I did go really heavy with the colour symbolism lol...

Ravenhill School, 1965.

The year they met, both are around the age of 10 (give or take). Len is 3 from the left in the top row, Tommy 2 in from the left on the bottom row (also I tried to include references to the other 2 League Of Gentlemen guys... Though I think the only vaguely recognisable one is Jeremy pfft)

Also shout out to @lapis-lazuliie for the idea that they met at school!

(side note, this is the least detailed of all the paintings not just because I was too lazy to render all those children's faces pfft but ALSO because of the significance of them being less recognisable or prominent in each other's lives in this point...)

I was planning on making another childhood/early teen photo but couldn't really think of any good subject matter that could also fit thematically with the episode (also the fact both are coming from poor families who would have had limited access to cameras in this era means we can just pretend that there are just no photos that really exist of them at these ages pfft...)

Photo booth in Leeds, 1974.

Both in their late teens, they'd (well, mainly Tommy) gone to a photo booth in Leeds with the intention of getting some professional looking photos only for Len to immediately make Tommy laugh once they got in there lol

The middle photo is covered in lines as Tommy had planned on throwing it away, only to find he couldn't bring himself to do it in the end... Is it platonic? Romantic? Both? Who knows, you decide lol! I mainly wanted it to be a candid moment between two people that love each other lol

(final one is them play fighting because that's kinda just what 19 year olds are like pfft... also I think photo booths technically gave you 4 photos? so let's pretend there was another photo that they did throw away for whatever reason lol...)

Rehearsals, 1979.

Deep in the midst of practising their routine for some of their first performances!

I'll admit this photo was mainly me wanting to include something more episode specific lol and also to get in some much needed heavy handed symbolism (the crease in the photo separating them, the bottle in front of Len's face, etc)

Polaroids taken at Tommy's flat, 1985.

In-between shows the two often spent a lot of time at Tommy's place (featuring that god awful sofa the previous home owner had left). I did originally plan to have them in the sofa shot together, but was finding it hard to figure out who would have been taking that kind of photo so figured it made more sense to make it shots they took of each other.

Also marks the beginnings of Tommy's weariness (& Len's over drinking...)

Outside the Glasgow Pavilion, 1988.

The morning of that fateful performance...

Ok not much else I wanna say about this other than the reference I used for the pose had Reece sorta awkwardly clasping his hands in front of him which I really liked but unfortunately in my art it just looked like he was trying to cover his crotch so I had to change it pfft...

Tommy standing at Len's grave, 2024.

The sixth anniversary of Len's death, and the sixth time Tommy has travelled across from France to lay flowers at his grave. Photo taken by Leanne from the inside of a taxi (I'd like to have had more references to her in these photos but was unsure of dates/ages where it would have fitted...)

She couldn't get her phone to not focus on the raindrops on the window as she tried to take a picture of Tommy at her father's grave but then realised that she actually liked the pathetic fallacy and had it made into a print anyway lol (look I'll be the first to admit that this is the least 'realistic' in terms of a photo that people would take, but I couldn't resist the symbolism of it lol...)

There were a lot more ideas for photos I wanted to do but for obvious reasons had to keep it to just 9 lol

Also will be posting these on my ao3 with snippets of stories to go with each photo so keep an eye out for when I share that link!

[fleurrreads]

pretty little rich girl

pairings: benny cross x fem!reader

warnings: some unwanted comments, bit of angst, happy ending(?)

author's note: based on this request! honestly don't know how i feel about this one, i might write more for them in the future.

Benny has seen many girls in his lifetime, but none of them have downright turned his world upside down. Until he met you. It was supposed to be just another night at the bar, until you walked in. All pretty in a little dress, pearls around your neck. You look expensive. Benny's eyes follow you until you sit down, probably with a friend. He steps closer to eavesdrop on the conversation.

You sit down with a huff, "Where did ya bring me, Kathy? Ya hang out 'round here?" You look around wildly at the bikers crowding the little bar. Kathy laughs. "Don't worry, darlin'. They won't do anythin to make you uncomfortable or somethin'. They're good people." Kathy finishes, looking over your shoulder, spotting Benny standing a few metres away. She smirks, "Okay listen, I'm gonna go get us some drinks, you want a pop? I'll get ya a pop." Kathy rambles, before walking off to the bar, leaving you alone. You look around warily, the bikers closest to you looking at each other, then at you, and then laughing among themselves. You look down, fiddling with your fingers. 'Hurry up Kathy' you thought to yourself, and a split second later someone sits down in Kathy's chair. But it's not Kathy.

You look up, seeing the prettiest blue eyes and you nearly gulp. Holy shit you think as you let your eyes travel the stranger up and down. He's gorgeous. The stranger looks in a daze, as he crosses his arms over his chest, muscles on full display. Before you say anything, he speaks and you think you could melt right there.

"I'm Benny." he says, his face nearly in a pout. You nearly laugh, the situation being so unorthodox. "I'm y/n. And you're sittin' on my friend's seat." you say, making him throw his hands up in feigned innocence. "Really? I didn't know. My bad, darlin'." He says in a husky voice, his eyes never leaving you.

You smile, "Yeah, but listen I gotta get home, so it was nice meetin' ya, but i gotta get goin'." You stand up, not bothering to look for Kathy, you'd call her later. Unbeknownst to you Benny gets up and follows you outside. As you make your way to the door you hear whistles and calls, making your stomach turn. One comment made you stop in your tracks. "Look at this pretty little rich girl, playin' where she doesn't belong." one of the bikers said, and you frowned.

Yes, you were from a wealthy family, but that doesn't make you just a rich girl. You have ambitions, you have dreams. You can be something other than a rich girl too.

You shake your head, pushing past people as fast as you can, trying to calm the tears that are threatening to spill. As soon as you get outside you take a cigarette from your bag, and sigh. "For fuck sakes. Where's my damn lighter." you grumble, emotions on high. Benny walks up to you, lighter in hand. Without saying anything he brings the light to your face, to your cigarette. "Thanks" you mumble, taking a drag.

You just want to go home. The past hour you've been here has probably taken three years off your lifespan. You sigh, kicking around a rock with your polished shoes. You would be able to enjoy this life, the freedom that comes along with it, if it weren't for people and their stupid comments. You'd finally find a place where you belong. Because it certainly wasn't with the rich kids. They always thought you were weird for having dreams like moving to a farm and building a life for yourself. Or moving to California to surf and working at a surf shop. That's why that guy in the bar's comment frustrated you. If you didn't belong at home, and you didn't belong here, then where do you belong? Benny clears his throat, you jump, forgetting that was there.

"Y'know, they didn't mean it like that. What they said back there. They 'just never seen a girl like you in our bar." he says, as if reading your mind. You scoff, taking another drag from your cigarette. "Yeah whatever, I don't really care. Probably won't see 'em again anyway. But you have a good evenin', Benny. It was delightful meetin' ya." You stomp out your cigarette, walking to the bus stop.

Benny offers you a ride home, because of course the busses don't run at 2am anymore. So you give him your address. As Benny takes a turn into your street you think of how vastly you differ from him. Him in his dirty leather jacket, his hair unwashed for probably a while, and his grease stained shirt underneath with his leather boots. To you, a girl polished by her parents to embody elegance, even though you were far from it. A white dress, pearls probably worth more than his bike, shoes polished and your hair neatly in a bow. A doll. A doll standing on a dangerous cliff, ready to jump down to whatever world Benny was involved in.

Benny pulls up to your house, and he takes a moment to study your house. A double story house, white picket fence, gorgeous porch running around the house. You were rich. He hears you sigh as you get off the bike, and he blurts out a question. "You wanna go to a meetin' with me tomorrow?" He looks at you, pretty dress now stained from sitting so close to him on the bike. He quite likes it. Him tainting your pretty little life. He can sense that you might like it too. You smile, "Yeah, why not. I don't have anythin' goin' on anyway." you nod, making your way to the white picket fence surrounding your house. You look back at him, his eyes sparkling with something you've never seen before.

"Well goodnight, Benny." you wave, making your way to your door.

"Goodnight, princess." Benny hums, leaning against his bike. Yeah he likes you, a lot. He's not going to let you slip out of his fingers. He's already obsessed with you. His princess.

Six weeks later, you married him.

reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! ★

[ryuichirou]

Replies

More replies about recent stuff, plus some random twst stuff pluuuus a reply related to a Malleus sketch from our 🔑🔞twt <3 Thank you for your questions.

thestarlightfae asked:

...Do I want to know what Lilia has on his phone?

Somehow I doubt it�� But he wouldn’t mind showing!

Anonymous asked:

Ryuichirou just to let you know your literally the reason why I download Tumblr and I'm so so glad I did so🙇🙇

Oh god Anon, I am very sorry for doing this to you LOL Thank you so much!!! <3 I am glad you’re enjoying it!

m1lk-n-cook1es asked:

Dragon Malleus has six limbs and is therefore an insect. Discuss

(idk if he has 4 limbs in the dragon body but oh well)

Does…that mean that a centaur would also be an insect? This is kind of troubling… 😟

I think this is something we could discuss for hours until Malleus appears and ends this discussion forever, looking offended af :(

Anonymous asked:

Ace and malleus won't be together because ace has no Rizz  and no skills. he would fumble malleus so hard he would end up with someone else twice over, who im not sure but definitely someone he has to see a lot

(related to a reply about Ace the donkey to Malleus’ dragon)

OUCH, Anon!! You’re roasting Ace more than Malleus would’ve roasted him while literally breathing fire 😭🔥

Give this boy a chance. That being said, we all know the chance is slim….

Anonymous asked:

about the mosquitoes bites ! If you put a burning hot metal spoon on it for a few seconds the heat will kill the itchiness ! Tested and approved every summers you should definitely do it 👍

My favourite part about posting that mosquito comic is people recommending remedies for the bites…!

Thank you, Anon. I’ll keep that in mind.

Anonymous asked:

Would the twst ppl ever go down of ppl of the opposite sex? Or is everyone just gay? Like Floyd on a female riddle or something

-english is not good with me

“Everyone is gay” is our default because we prefer gay ships, but we don’t really headcanon sexualities for characters. If we ever come up with a good story with Floyd and fem!Riddle, nothing would stop us from indulging in it 💪 There are some that are more difficult for me to see with the opposite sex than the others though.

Anonymous asked:

Do the doms give oral? Like will the dom suck the sub's dick at all or nah?

With you would oral sec be strictly a bottom's job?

It is a tendency in my art to only leave it for the bottoms because it is a personal preference. But I don’t think that all of our tops would be strictly against it on the same level.

I wrote some hcs quite a while ago, if you want a detailed answer about someone in particular! Although I think my bias is pretty obvious lol Sorry.

Anonymous asked:

Okay the post of Malleus laying an egg from a while ago on your locked twt has been driving me so up the walls I haven't even been able to find the words??? I was so gagged when I saw it????

Shota Malleus always feels like he's totally convinced he's mature enough to handle Lilia and anything else you throw at him (he isn't) and him dealing with something like that when he's definitely way too young and unprepared and being completely overwhelmed and scared by it is SO GOOD

I can imagine him calling out Lilia's name in such a broken way, half upset because he just went through something really painful and scary and he wants to be comforted by his caretaker, and half because he's so confused and he has no idea what he should do and he needs Lilia's guidance, when Lilia was the one who put him into that mess in the first place... I worry that Lilia is going to take one look at him and their egg and be like "guess it's scrambled eggs for breakfast!" to cover his own mistake before anyone finds out 😭

(And also...... I just think it's a little hot... Malleus pushing out an egg that's too big for his body all alone in his room with nobody to help him regulate his breathing and pushing?? He just has to figure it all out on his own because he can't/won't call for help??? Squeezing that egg out a little at a time and slowly stretching himself open, before it falls back inside him and he has to start all over again, basically fucking himself on it until he finally gets it out... 🥵)

I am SO GLAD YOU LIKED IT, ANON!! <3 I want to say that it was a very self-indulgent sketch, but then again, everything that we post is lol

Poor Malleus absolutely wasn’t ready for anything like that to happen and he definitely wasn’t told that this was something that could happen to a dragon fae… And Lilia was probably surprised too, looking at him like shoot that wasn’t supposed to happen yet, wtf, “dragon eggs are rare” my ass lol Lilia really fucked up his cycles…

I guess they really are going to have scrambled eggs for breakfast…! God we had so many conversations about Lilia and dragon eggs, I really should finish that one comic from ages ago.

(I’m also glad you find this hot as well~ If definitely would’ve been much easier for him if Lilia was around when that was happening, poor thing probably thought he was dying or something. He often feels alone, but when that happened, he felt especially alone and helpless. It’s honestly a miracle he wasn’t mad at Lilia afterwards, but I guess it’s because he was way too shocked for that)

[goodnightwindy]

hey guys. Ouuhghh

[skrunksthatwunk]

thinking about how eiji's a pole vaulter and how ash talks about eiji "flying" and how eiji's associated with bird imagery and how eiji's free (unlike ash) and how eiji comes in on a plane and leaves on a plane and how ash cannot fly, ash cannot be free, how nyc is ash's prison, and how ash is the leopard who dies climbing the mountain, unable to live at such elevation, how he was trying to reach the sky and be free but was always stuck to the earth, how he chose to die instead of climbing back down, how he chose to die where he could see the sky and hope and freedom almost like a bird with eiji's letter right in front of him rather than letting everything go wrong and ruin it once again, how eiji's a failed pole vaulter anyway, how a bad fall ruined his career and grounded him (physically and emotionally), how it took flying to america and meeting ash and needing to save him and skip for him to try flying again, how he landed hard and harsh and still the thought of that escape compelled ash to protect eiji at all costs because if he could fly that means something to him, even if he doesn't think he can fly, how eiji is the manifestation of his hope and how when he breaks and asks eiji to stay with him a while he folds himself over his legs and weighs him down and traps him and grounds him, how ash fights like hell to keep eiji alive not because he thinks he can be like him (hopeful, flying, innocent), but because he makes him forget the gravity of his situation, and so he can see eiji fly again. how he wants to see him escape. how eiji is a bird and ash is a wildcat and how ash never once saw eiji as prey. how eiji never saw ash as a predator. how it is eiji's naivete that first endears ash to him, how it is his freedom and flight and removal from darkness and his ability to leave that darkness that really roots eiji in ash's blood as something essential to him keeping on living in this hell of nyc. how it is that distance from the violence and that hope for the future that ash chooses to surround himself in as he dies. how ash dies in a dream because he feels more than anything that he can't fly like eiji, that he can never leave. how his violence is a part of him and will be forever, how it weighs him down. how he wants to enjoy the view from the mountainside rather than looking up from the ground below. as if they can both fly. as if he is with him up there and not grounded. eye-to-eye with what he can't have, seeing eiji's homeland: the sky. how he dies trying to reach the top because he couldn't take retreating and trying again. how ash, tired and tired and tired and convinced it will go on forever if he crawls back down the mountain, chooses to close his life deluged in eiji, in eiji's insistence that they can fly together, in eiji's hope for him and for them, in eiji's beautiful dream. how ash dies without trying to realize that dream. how ash, in dying, destroys it.

[thedrotter]

Re:Kinder Fun Facts of the day☺️!!! Have you ever wondered who talks the most from the main cast in Re:Kinder?? Well, I did😊. Today I'll be answering this question with some graphs and as a bonus telling you what words each character uses the most! I will warn you, this will be a bit long and I don't know how to be less verbose so, yeah!!!

First, I've made some basic rules as to what I counted regarding how much the characters speak. Not all lines really count as speaking, after all.

Any of the incoherent screaming lines don't count. There's a lot of screaming since the characters die a lot (as expected for a horror RPG game), but I don't really count that as speaking unless they're saying proper words. In that same vein, I didn't really count any of the panting or sniffing and such that are conveyed through words. Again, I don't really see that as a character actively speaking their thoughts!

If I cannot tell who a line belongs to, I will not give it to anyone. This happens for certain lines, so I felt this rule was important.

I won't be counting repetitions of the same line if it's on a variation of the same scene. This may sound a bit strange, but when a character dies, the game goes on to the same next scene it would regardless (unless the scene that follows it is an ending), with variations and new lines here and there to account for the dead character, but a lot will be reused and placed in the exact same beats it normally would have been in originally. So, this rule is here for that. Oh, and also the scenes with bits of Yuuichi's backstory that appear in Shunsuke's head won't be counted twice, because some appear twice line by line.

Of course, the "..." lines won't count. I am so sorry Aya!!!!😞

Now that the ground rules have been set, there's just one thing I want to mention. Though I will count all the total lines for Takumi and Yuuichi like any other character, I just want to mention that first I will have two separate counts for them! Takumi | Takumiel and Yuuichi | Yuuichi's Heart respectively.

Takumiel is separate because I was curious about how much Takumi spoke as an archangel compared to when he was alive. Yuuichi's Heart is because he speaks so much he feels notable enough to be given his own division, even if he and Yuuichi at the end of the day are one person

(I count the silly mind telepathy where Shunsuke is being directly spoken to [and being told things normal Yuu would avoid saying at that point] and the comical theater as Yuuichi's Heart. I clarify in case one assumes he only starts being counted the moment he's directly labelled as Yuuichi's Heart. Any line that can't be distinguished between Yuuichi's Heart and Yuuichi will be given to Yuuichi by default.)

With nothing else to be clarified let's get to the numbers!!!😊😊

First, the line counts with Takumiel and Yuuichi's Heart counted individually!! Here are the rankings:

Shunsuke (With a lead of 535 lines over second place!!)

Yuuichi

Rei

Yuuichi's Heart

Hiroto

Ryou

Sayaka

Aya

Takumi

Takumiel

You may be thinking— woah, does Shunsuke really speak that much?! You could say that, for a good chunk of those lines are from how he describes interactable points around the map and his inner thoughts, so they aren't all exactly said out loud. The benefit of being the protagonist, I suppose ww

Funny enough, Yuuichi's Heart has almost as many lines as Yuuichi does for not having that much time in the game, being on the higher end between the characters that don't get the benefit of being a protagonist (lol)!

Admittedly I had expected for Rei and Hiroto to have a more similar amount of lines given their nearly equal amount of presence, but for what it is Rei surpassed Hiroto by 51 lines! I also had expected for Takumiel to speak a little bit more than Takumi but turns out the opposite is true.

While the lack of lines of Takumi and Takumiel are to be expected due to their short time on the game, what stands out is Aya not even reaching triple digits between her other peers who are in there for most of the game. This is because a good chunk of Aya's lines in game are silence!^^" And thus weren't counted. If ellipses were a word, she surely would have reached triple digits, but unfortunately they're not.

Now the line count with combined sums of Takumi | Takumiel and Yuuichi | Yuuichi's Heart!!!

In here, the ranking isn't affected, with Yuuichi remaining second place and Takumi being last place. But the disparity of everyone's numbers compared to Takumi's feels a bit more clear to see when Takumiel isn't individually counted.

With Yuuichi's line counts combined, Shunsuke remains 318 lines ahead of him, but it also means Yuuichi has a 59% the amount of Shunsuke's lines; and impressive feat for someone who doesn't get the benefit of being the point of view for everything you press... Although he does also have an upper hand over everyone by essentially being the plot of this game ww

But maybe line counts do not suffice to tell how much a character speaks. Yes, Shunsuke has a bunch of lines from everything he interacts with, but is it really reliable to say he speaks all that much in all those lines? A good chunk of those could easily have 3 words each! So with this in mind, let's do a word count.

Even in a word count, Shunsuke has the lead, having a lead of 2,247 words over second place. But we'll see about that when we combine Yuuichi's numbers. Anyway, here's the ranking!

Shunsuke

Yuuichi's Heart

Yuuichi

Rei

Hiroto

Ryou

Sayaka

Aya

Takumi

Takumiel

This time, Yuuichi's Heart is the one at second place!!! It's pretty funny that he speaks more than his physical counterpart ww. I genuinely didnt think he'd out yap himself that way when I chose to count for him individually 😭!!! He has a lead of 63 words over himself, but a lead nonetheless.

In here, Rei and Hiroto are more even than in the line counts, with the difference seeming more minimal when put into words. But it also showcases that despite Rei having more lines than Yuuichi's Heart in the line count, those only get to have a bit over half of the amount of words he talks (To be fair he does get to infodump a lot in his section of the game).

And here's the combined word count!!! Suddenly Shunsuke's lead is only by a mere 55 words! So Yuuichi speaks about as much as he does with 318 less lines.

I must admit that I genuinely did not expect it to be that close. When I chose to count the lines for when you interact with things for Shunsuke, I thought he was granted to speak an absurd amount more than anyone else. But turns out that Yuuichi speaks about the same amount out loud when most of Shunsuke's are his own thoughts ww. But it does make sense! He is still the plot of this game.

So, after all those charts, here's the average/middle point of lines and words for characters to have, because why not, it's fun.

Average Line Count (YH and Takumiel counted individually): 197 lines

Average Line Count (When combined): 247 lines

Average Word Count (YH and Takumiel counted individually): 1,333 words

Average Word Count (When combined): 1,666 words

So there it is. That's how much the characters in Re:Kinder speak!

But wait!!! I am not done. I will share with you an additional fun fact... Did you ever want to know what word each of these characters said the most?! This one will be quicker, I do promise.

When it came to counting these words I did not count stop words, that being common words that are used all the time by everyone in English. "I, you, me, the, to, a, my, your, yes, no"... Words like that! Otherwise everyone would have one of those as their most said word and it'd be rather boring to look at. With that said, here are the words these characters say the most!

Shunsuke: Yuuichi - said 40 times! (this genuinely confused me so much im sorry he uses interjections so much I had expected it to be something like "huh" or "um" but no i dont know how this passed by me as i was rounding up all the lines he says or proofreading or writing all of those lines WHAT?!?! its been two days and it still takes me out)

Ryou: Shunsuke - Said 14 times

Sayaka: Murderer - Said 7 times (All in one sentence!)

Takumi | Takumiel (counted in one for how little he speaks.): Takumiel - Said 3 times (That name is so important, he said it thrice.)

Aya: Sorry - Said 5 times

Rei: Hell, gonna, look, Yuuchi - said 8 times (Most of the repeated words she says are stop words for she doesn't tend to speak about the same things repeatedly.)

Hiroto: Shunsuke - Said 17 times

Yuuichi (separate from YH): Problem - Said 17 times

Yuuichi's Heart: Mama - Said 24 times

Yuuichi (Overall): Mama - Said 31 times

So that is finally it. That is the fun fact of today.😊😊 Use this to woe your friends at parties!!!

I am aware Mami speaks about enough to be counted in, but this is pretty time consuming to do and I'm not sure anyone is invested on her enough to count her in. But if there's enough curiosity regarding that, I'll try counting her in. But for now this suffices.☺️ Thanks for reading!

[catkin-morgs-kookaburralover]

"yes im so fine"

*researches whether i can get my hands on ipecac*

[mayclair]

celebrated my birthday w/ my friends today & felt possibly the most loved i have ever felt in years. maybe life IS worth living <3

[everysongineverykey]

we're watching pride and prejudice (2005) in class and we're only about an hour or so in but i gotta say. this movie is not nearly as good as tumblr made it out to be

[thatrandombystander]

Day 3 of I Am So Fucking Stressed.

[noxtivagus]

happy weekend ! 🤍 ( technically pulled an all-nighter but i have newfound energy for some reason ) 🥹

[fairy-angel222]

𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐅 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐃𝐎𝐎𝐑 𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

—in which toji is constantly fucking women and disturbing your peace. your complaints lead to you becoming one of them.

pairing: toji fushiguro x fem! college reader

cw: smut, breeding, daddy kink, size kink, age gap, toji being a cocky prick, unsafe sex, ass slapping, mentions of cervix touching

Ever since you heard about your next door neighbor Mr. Fushiguro going through a divorce, things have been hell. For you.

From the day he first moved into the apartment, constantly arguing on the phone with his ex wife about whose turn it was to watch his son, Megumi.

When Megumi is over, everything’s quiet, and you finally get a chance to rest your head and relax in peace. Doing some studying and cleaning in the quiet atmosphere.

You wished the black haired boy would stay for just a day longer, because Toji is back to his usual self hours later. Bringing in young college girls one after the other. Fucking them hard against his headboard as they let out loud cries of daddy. It was annoying. You could even stay inside anymore to get work done.

At every hour of the day he seemed to be active, fucking through all sorts of women, the shaking of your thin bedroom wall never coming to an end as high pitched moans echoed through.

It was getting to the point where you couldn’t take it. You were so fed up. Didn’t he ever get tired? Tired of promising these young desperate girls to call them back only to throw away their numbers and fuck their friends the next day.

Weeks go by and nothing changes, Megumi coming over for a silent three days then leaving again. Giving his father enough time to fuck any feelings for his ex wife out of his system.

You swore you couldn’t take it, you had barely been able to study, occasionally spending an hour or two in a nearby café between classes. When you noticed your grades slipping, your eyes having prominent bags at the lack of sleep, you groan loudly in frustration. Finding your legs moving before you could even process it.

Your fist raising to knock on the man’s door once, then twice, with no answer. You huffed, going in to knock a third time before the door swung open. A tall, muscular man towering over you with a scowl. “What?”

Your eyes widened as you scanned over his body, his perfectly sculpted face, broad shoulders, defined abs, and the very distinct outline in his sweats.

The man cleared his throat, a smirk gracing his face when he startled you out of your intense drooling. “Now, what do we have here?” he chuckled deeply, tilting his head to the side with crossed arms as he rested against the door’s frame. “Here to get your turn doll?”

You gulped, finding it harder to spit out your words as the Fushiguro man stared you down. “I.. I’m here to ask you to keep the noise down, some people have actual work to do.”

Toji whistled, “Oh? A bold one huh? I like it,” His hand reaching under your chin to make you look fully up at him. “you’re a pretty little thing you know,” he spoke, running his thumb along your bottom lip, “wonder what you’d look like ruined underneath me.”

You ignored the flutter that went off in your pussy, clenching your thighs discreetly as you glared. “Just keep the noise down okay old man? I'm trying to study.”

Toji could feel his cock grow harder, you were just what he needed. “So i’m an old man now? That’s a first, usually girls like you just call me daddy.” he shrugged, “but it’s okay, you’ll get there.”

You rolled your eyes as you walked away from him, annoyance written all over your face to mask the arousal swirling in your stomach. He’d probably fucked the entire neighborhood by now, including the campus, so you weren’t gonna fall for his sick charms. You just hoped he complied and kept the place quiet, you didn’t need that usual noise the day before your big test.

Toji had surprisingly did as you asked, and you sighed in content as you read through the pages of your notes. Your pen in your hand finding itself in between your teeth as you bit down softly. You got what you wanted, so why was your mind running wild with thoughts of the Fushiguro man’s hands on your body as he fucked you like all of those other girls.

You shifted in your seat, one leg over the other to bring stimulation to your needy clit making you whimper softly. You couldn’t let yourself give in.

Another week passed and you once again found yourself in the same noisy predicament. Your mind couldn’t help but wander to the man more than twice your age. Way too old for you yet just so.. hot. Toji Fushiguro had become your fantasy.

And it was unbearable.

Hearing all these moans day and night. Hearing Toji’s loud grunts and groans as he no doubt left them with the best fuck of their lives.

It was Thursday, and Megumi would be coming tomorrow per routine, so you’d finally get a break then. But, you couldn’t deny the fact that you wanted an excuse to go over there. Your face serious as you banged on his door.

You waited a minute, a shirtless Toji emerging into the door frame as it flew open. Toji smirked, “Ah, you again.” His sweatpants hung dangerously low beneath the start of his v line, black hair messy as his tongue darted out to swipe across his lips. “Finally came to your senses?”

His last fuck had left right before you came, coincidentally of course.

“N-no.” you objected sternly. “I’m here to ask you again to just be.. what are yo-“

You swallowed hard when he began stalking towards you, a sinister grin on his face as you were backed up against a wall. His breath fanned your head as he bent his neck. Hands on the walls near each side of your face. “Your face says otherwise, doll.”

“No it d-doesn’t.. you’re just a cocky old man preventing me from getting things done.”

Toji’s brow raised with a deep hearty chuckle, “Back to that nickname i see,” His hand grabbing hold of your cheeks and squeezing them together. “Gonna have to clean that mouth of yours, teach you how to be a good girl.”

You whimpered lowly, feeling wetness pool between your legs as you looked up through your lashes. Toji’s eyes trailing to your glossy lips as he inhaled sharply. “Don’t worry, this dirty old man’s lips are clean”

Pressing his lips roughly to yours, your eyes widening as you gripped the edge of your skirt with a moan. Toji smirked against your lips, his hands hooking beneath your legs as he lifted you up. Your frame so much smaller in comparison to his larger one.

Toji was quick to bring you inside. And you found yourself sitting on the man’s lap, your skirt bunched up at your hips as he hammered up into your wet cunt with brute force. His hands kneading into the flesh of your ass each time you ground your hips onto him.

You let out a loud mewl, his thick cock stretching you out and grazing against your gummy walls as he fucked you deep. Feeling him within your stomach when you cried out. “Fushiguro-san— ah, so- ngh g-ood.”

“That’s not my name doll, try again.” he growled deeply, landing his palm onto your ass in a hard slap. And you whimpered tearfully at the sting. “T-toji—” Another harsh smack burning through your flesh making you let out a cry. “Last chance.”

You moaned loudly, your back arching as Toji slammed into you. “D-daddy, ahh daddy, o-oh fuckk—,”

Toji hummed in satisfaction, “Look at you, thought i was a dirty old man hmm?” His teeth biting softly at the delicate skin of your neck, his pelvis hitting your red puffy folds relentlessly. “Moaning for me like a little slut, so fucking pretty.”

You let out a shaky cry, “Haah— F-fushiguro-san,” Your pussy clenched down on his girth, his rough hand making its way around your throat, squeezing the sides and forcing you to look at him. “Not gonna fucking tell you again.”

You mewled, “‘M sorry— nngh,” Your back arching when Toji bullied his cock deeper into you.

“Still waiting doll.” he grunted, eyes dark as his grip on your throat tightened, your moans and whimpers loud as his thighs noisily met your sticky cunt. “D-addy— ahh- so good,” you cried, feeling his angry tip forcing its way to your cervix, kissing the entrance with each harsh thrust.

“Good fucking girl, you’re getting there” he grinned with a groan. A creamy ring formed around the base of his cock, your pussy gushing messily onto him as loud squelching sounds filled the room. “Pussy’s so fucking tight— better be on the pill cause i’m botta cum in that pretty pussy, shit.”

“Ah— nngh daddy, ‘m close- gonna cum.” you whimpered, your eyes rolling back and your lips parting in a string of incoherent babbles, Toji’s thrusts sloppy as he groaned.

“Gonna cum on this old man’s dick yeah?” He teased cockily, “Had so much talk for someone who’s falling apart on my cock.” Toji grunted, “Bet ya sat there listening like a lil perv, your hand down your panties hmm?”

You shook your head no with a cry, “Uh uh- ahh— wasn’t.”

“Sure about that? Sure you didn’t sit there and fantasize about me fucking you like a little slut?” His hand reached down to rub at your clit, a loud moan escaping your mouth.

Your breathing sped up as you felt a coil buildup in your stomach. Your body shaking with pure ecstasy. You let out a high pitched scream, the stimulation to your g spot making your head go fuzzy. Vision turning white as you clenched down tightly on Toji’s cock.

“O-oh fuck— ‘m cumming— ah, cumming daddy.” Toji’s hand pressed down harder on your throat, the pressure restricting your air flow making you let out a choked mewl. Tears welling in your eyes as his heavy balls smacked against your ass.

“Nngh—” The ring of white thickened at his base as you let out whiny cries. Toji’s hand working small circles on the sensitive bud before he brought his lips to your ear. His voice deep and gruff as he groaned. “Fuck doll- squeezing me so tight, come on and scream for me.” He breathed, “make a mess on my cock.”

Toji’s mean pace became too much, a tight pull in your stomach as your mouth fell open, legs trembling with loud cries as an unfamiliar feeling washed over you.

It was heavenly, your brain going dumb and your pupils disappearing behind heavy lids as you screamed loudly, head falling back and nails digging into his shoulders as you fell off the edge.

Toji never slowing the movement of his hips, still hammering up into you despite the mess you were making on his thighs. Your pussy spraying streams after streams of clear liquid as you arched your hips, grinding back and forth to ride out your squirting orgasm.

“Even fucking louder than any of my previous fucks.” he laughed, “Wonder what the neighbors would say, went from being a whiny little bitch to being the same thing you complained about.”

You let out a whine, Toji flipping you abruptly onto your back, his hand still around your neck as the position allowing him to hit even deeper. “Fuck,” he grunted, his words in between each thrust. “gonna fucking breed that pussy so deep.” Letting out a low groan at the last thrust, his lips meeting yours in a sloppy kiss as he bottomed out.

A whimper fell past your lips into his when you felt him fill you up, his cum shooting in hot thick spurts along the walls of your cunt.

He smirked as he pulled away, watching you pant heavily. “Would make such a good breeding bunny.” Dipping his fingers past your lips and resting them on the back of your tongue. “Might have to keep you around, can’t be disturbed if you’re the one making the noise now can you?”

You shook your head tiredly, forcing your eyes to stay open as Toji pulled out of you. His sticky cum seeping out of your fluttering pussy slowly. Your brain was still so clouded, blinking in and out of blurry vision.

Toji hid the smile threatening to creep up onto his face, his face neutral as he plopped down onto the couch next to you. “Rest if you need to, then leave.” He said nonchalantly, trying to seem like his usual self despite the fact that he had not kicked you out yet. Which was something he never did, let a girl stay any longer than a second after sex.

The man would never admit it, but there was just something about you.

He wanted to make you his pretty little doll.