#i feel so much & i have so much to say and talk about & i write it as much as i can in my diary but its like

[fireinmoonshot]

touchy | joaquin torres x reader

Pairing: Joaquin Torres x Reader Summary: Joaquin has a thing where he always likes to have a hand on you whenever you're together – holding your waist, holding your hand, a hand resting on your thigh. You finally decide to confront him about why. Warnings: Mentions of food, a kind of spicy make-out scene. Word Count: 1.6k A/N: I had this idea and I just had to write it. It's shorter than my other Joaquin fics but I had so much fun writing it and I really just wanted to get something else for Joaquin out for you guys! Please send in requests for him if you have any! 💗

One thing you never expected when you started dating Joaquin Torres was how touchy the man was – there was barely any time when the two of you were together when he wasn’t touching you in some way. 

It surprised you at first. He never came across as that kind of person. He was the definition of a Golden Retriever boyfriend. But then you’d be standing with him at a party and you’d feel his hand wrap around your waist, or whenever you had to cross the road, he’d hold your hand (not unlike your parents used to do when you were a child), or when you were at home watching a movie on the couch, his hand would rest on your thigh.

After several months of this, you finally decided to ask him why.

“Joaquin, can I ask you something?” You call from where you’re sitting in the living room, your eyes flickering up from the book that was on your lap – the one you’ve been trying to read and failing, owing to the fact that your boyfriend has been strutting around your apartment shirtless ever since he got out of the shower.

“Course you can, angel,” he calls back from the kitchen.

Out of the two of you, Joaquin is the cook of the family. You hadn’t trusted him in the kitchen at first – he had always seemed the type of person to accidentally chop off a finger because he was too distracted. But so far, no such accidents had occured and he was much better at making a delicious meal than you were.

You were quick to close your book and get up from the couch, padding through the hallway into the kitchen to see him standing at the bench, chopping something up on a cutting board in front of him – still irritatingly shirtless.

“Cooking shirtless is dangerous, you know,” you say, announcing your presence. 

His eyes flicker up towards you. “For you or for me?”

You give him a look. “For you, pretty boy. I’m not the one holding the knife.” 

Joaquin grins at you before putting the knife down, wiping his hands on the cloth on the bench beside him and grabbing the apron hanging over the back of one of your bar stools. “Should I put this on then? Someone clearly isn’t enjoying the show.” 

“Baby,” you roll your eyes at him jokingly, crossing the room and snatching the apron out of his hands. “You know that’s not what I meant. I meant you could get burned by oil or slip and cut yourself or… well… there are plenty of dangers to cooking shirtless.” 

Joaquin smirks, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you to his chest so you’re pressed together. “Angel, all those things you just listed are also things that could happen to me if I were wearing a shirt. You know that, right?”

You can’t help the way you pout at him. “Not my point, Joaquin.”

He grins and presses a quick peck to your lips. “Was that what you were coming in here to talk about?” He asks, his thumb swiping gently back and forth over your waist. 

“No, actually,” you hum. “I was coming here to talk about this.” You motion in-between the two of you, at the contact between your bodies. You’re not not a fan of it – of course you love it – but it does amuse you, the fact that your boyfriend always wants to have a hand on you at all times. 

Joaquin raises his eyebrows. “We playin’ charades? Am I meant to guess?”

You laugh a little. “No, silly. This. The way I walked into the kitchen and you swept me up into your arms immediately. The way you always have a hand on my back when we walk somewhere. The way you put your hand on my thigh when we’re on the couch. The way you’re touching me all the time.” 

Irritatingly, your words have the opposite effect than intended and Joaquin steps away from you, removing his hand from your waist. You immediately miss the warmth of his body, the feeling of his hand on your waist, and almost reach back out for him. 

“You don’t like it?” Joaquin asks, eyebrows furrowed in worry.

You hate the look on his face – the way he looks like a wounded puppy. His usually playful eyes look sad, full of fear and you can read his expression immediately. He thinks that by doing these things, he’s made you uncomfortable.

“Baby, no – I love it!” You attempt to rectify the situation. “I just was curious about why.”

Unable to keep looking at his sad puppy dog eyes anymore, you step forward, cupping his cheeks in your hands gently. His hands tentatively rest on your waist, as if he’s afraid you’re going to move away at any second but he simply can’t help but to touch you, just a little.

“You’re so touchy and I love it, Joaquin. I love having your hands on me all the time, I swear. Just now when you took your hands off my waist it was like… like it was suddenly winter and I was freezing cold without them. I just wanna know why you do it,” you explain further, making sure you keep eye contact with him.

Joaquin frowns a little. “I guess I never really thought about it,” he replies. “I think I kinda just do it without meaning to. I just love the feeling of having my hands on you, feeling your warmth, reminding myself that you’re beside me. And I mean…” He clears his throat. “Have you seen yourself, angel? Why would I not wanna touch you at any given opportunity?”

It’s like his confidence makes a return to his body, then. His grip on your waist gets tighter and he pulls you closer, forcing you to drop your hands from his face. They rest on his shoulders instead as he backs you up a little so you’re leaning against the counter. His body is pressed against yours again, like it was only minutes ago. The warmth you’d missed before falls over you like a sheet of pure comfort.

You can’t keep the smile off your face at his words and actions. “That’s kinda cute, Joaquin,” you admit. “That you do it without thinking about it. Like I said, I love the feeling of you having your hands on me too.”

“Cute?” Joaquin looks at you with raised eyebrows. “You think I’m cute?”

It’s hard not to smile at his tone. “Yeah, adorable. You’re like a little puppy. You were looking at me before with the most puppy dog eyes I’ve ever seen on a person. You looked so sad, I just wanted to pick you up and–”

Before you can finish speaking, Joaquin cuts you off by pressing his lips to yours. You moan at the sudden feeling of his lips, the feeling of his tongue swiping against your bottom lip. The way that his hands grip your waist tighter, one of them roaming up your back to grasp at the back of your neck so he can kiss you deeper.

The edge of the counter digs into your back but you barely even notice the feeling. One of your hands moves to run through Joaquin’s hair – it’s short, but long enough for you to grip, the other on his back. The feeling of his muscles against your palm only makes you want to kiss him more. The last thing you want to do is break apart for air.

Your breath hitches as he squeezes your waist again, forcing your lips apart. Both of you are breathing heavily, though the break doesn’t last long. Joaquin wastes no time in kissing you again, but this time his lips move from yours to your jaw. He presses soft, gentle kisses along the side of your jaw and down your neck. You tilt your head backwards, giving him better access. When your hand grasps onto his hip, he gasps a little and you can’t help but smile at the sound. 

“See?” You mutter breathlessly, tilting your head forward again to meet his eyes. “I told you that cooking while shirtless was dangerous.”

Joaquin laughs at that, a gorgeous smile finding its way onto his face. You look at him, at the sweat on his forehead, the look of lust and love in his eyes, the way his chest moves up and down quickly, his breath still heavy from your small make out session. He’s easily the most gorgeous man you’ve ever laid eyes on… and he’s all yours.

He moves his hands down to your waist again and before you can do anything about it, he’s lifting you up so you’re sitting on the counter and pushing your legs apart so he can stand in-between them. At this angle, you’re basically the same height.

“I see no problems here, angel,” he flashes that gorgeous grin again before messily pressing his lips to yours again. He pulls away quickly though, much to your disappointment. “Now that we’ve established that I’m not cute, I am going to continue cooking you dinner. I’ll let you go back to your book.”

“Oh no,” you shake your head, turning to watch him as he returns to the cutting board. “I have a much better view right here than I do in the living room, baby. Besides, someone has to supervise you to make sure you stay safe while cooking like that… it’s bound to be a hard job but I’m pretty certain I’m up to the challenge...”

[lilianne-tarot]

PICK A CARD: Your Sweetest & Most Lovable Qualities ✮⋆˙

I. II. III.

How to Pick Your Pile: Take a deep breath, clear your mind, and look at the images above. Which one pulls you in the most? Trust your gut! Once you choose the image, The number below your chosen image is your pile. If more than one catches your eye, that just means there’s extra tea for you—go ahead and read both!

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⋆𐙚₊˚Pile I

So, we’ve got, Yeah, I know big cards for a topic about your most endearing qualities. Oh, and before we go any further—let me just say this. I couldn’t pull more than three cards for this pile for some reason. To me, that’s the universe saying, This is it. This is all they need to know. This is the energy of someone who has lived, felt, and somehow turned all the chaos of life into something beautiful, tender, and deeply lovable. But that’s exactly what makes this reading so powerful. You’re not someone whose sweetness is obvious on the surface.

This pile is the softest in a "you don’t even realize how powerful your love is" kind of way.

listen, if these cards were in a different context, I’d be holding your hand and whispering, “Babe, brace yourself,” but here? These two cards are telling me that your most lovable quality is how you handle endings, transformations, and straight-up life-altering moments. You don’t cling when things need to be let go. You don’t fear the crumbling because you know something better is waiting to be built. And that? That’s what makes people soft for you. There’s something heartbreakingly tender about a person who has seen destruction but still chooses to believe in new beginnings. You give off this aura of quiet strength—like someone who’s been through the fire but still keeps their hands warm enough to comfort others. People feel safe with you, not because life is always stable around you (The Tower says otherwise, babe), but because you’ve shown time and time again that no matter how much things collapse, you will always rebuild. And let’s talk about how unexpectedly comforting you are. You’re not the person who hands out surface-level advice like “everything happens for a reason” (ugh, no). You’re the one who sits with people in their mess, in their heartbreak, in their uncertainty, and just exists with them, without judgment. And somehow, through your presence alone, you make people believe that they, too, will get through it. (OMG PILE 1, i wanna give you people such a big hug 😭😭 I seriously felt like crying while writing this pile, the energies were so heavy yet so soft) See, your kindness isn’t loud. It’s not the type that announces itself in grand gestures or obvious ways. It’s the kind that sneaks up on people. The kind that makes someone pause one day and think, “Wow, I didn’t even realize how much I needed them.” You don’t just offer stability—you are stability. Not because your life is always in order (again, The Tower says you’ve had your fair share of chaos), but because you know how to find steadiness even in uncertainty. You’re like a lighthouse in the storm, always there, always steady, guiding people home without needing to be asked. And people adore this about you. There’s something profoundly lovable about someone who makes others feel grounded without even trying. Whether it’s through your words, your actions, or just the way you carry yourself, you give people a sense of belonging. You’re not the kind of person who opens up easily, and that’s part of what makes your sweetness so special.

You don’t hand out trust like free samples at a store. No, honey, people have to work for it. And when they do? They’re met with something so rare—loyalty, unwavering support, and a kind of love that says, “I will stand by you even when everything else falls apart.” And that? That makes people soft for you in a way that’s hard to put into words. People may not always realize it at first, but once they do, they never forget you. You’re the kind of person whose absence is felt. The kind of person who, once someone has experienced your presence, nothing else quite measures up.

So, to sum this all up? Your most endearing, lovable qualities aren’t the kind that everyone immediately recognizes. You’re not “sweet” in the conventional, sunshine-and-rainbows way. You’re sweet in the way that a person feels when they’ve finally found home after being lost for so long. You’re sweet in the way that endings feel bittersweet but necessary. You’re sweet in the way that rebirth always holds a quiet kind of hope. And that? That’s a kind of sweetness that can’t be replicated.

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⋆𐙚₊˚Pile II

Alright, bestie, let’s get into Pile 2 because this reading? Oh, it’s personal. VERY PERSONAL.

So, looking at Four of Cups, Queen of Pentacles, Five of Pentacles, and The Sun, I’m getting such a specific and beautiful energy from you. You’re the type of person whose sweetness isn’t immediately obvious to everyone—it’s something people earn the right to see. Your love, your warmth, your kindness? It’s not just out there for anyone to take. It’s guarded, not because you’re cold, but because you know the value of your heart.Pile 2 people, your love feels like home. They are the ones who will wrap you up in warmth, make sure you’ve eaten, and remind you that you are loved even on the days you feel invisible.

I can tell you’re someone who has felt neglected in the past. Maybe you’ve been that person who showed up for others but didn’t always get the same in return. Maybe you’ve had moments where you wondered, Does anyone even see me? But here’s the thing—this has shaped you into someone so rare, so deeply precious. You don’t just give your love freely—you give it intentionally. And when you do? It changes people.There’s something so tender about someone who understands what it’s like to feel left out in the cold but still chooses to be warm. You don’t just give surface-level kindness; you make people feel safe. Your energy is like a soft, golden light in a world that can sometimes feel too harsh. the Queen of Pentacles energy sitting right in the middle of this spread, i see it as one of the main qualities of yours. You are the nurturer, the provider, the person whose presence feels like a deep breath after a long day. But what makes this so beautiful is that you don’t flaunt it. You’re not out here shouting, Look at me, I’m kind! No, your love is quiet. It’s the type that sneaks up on people when they realize, Damn, I’ve never felt this safe before.

You have this incredible ability to make people feel valued. Not just liked, not just appreciated, but genuinely, wholeheartedly valued. And you don’t do it in a way that’s over-the-top or performative—you do it in the little things. The way you remember the small details about people, the way you check in even when they don’t ask, the way you offer comfort without making a big deal about it. That’s your magic. But here’s the thing—you don’t just give, give, give anymore. I see it in this spread. You’ve learned that your love is not a free buffet; it’s a carefully prepared meal, and only those who truly appreciate it get a seat at your table. And honestly? That’s one of the most lovable things about you. You don’t let just anyone into your world, but when you do? You give them something real, something they’ll never find anywhere else.

Oh, babe, do you even know how bright you shine? Because let me tell you, you don’t always see it, but others do. There’s this thing about you—you don’t even realize how much joy you bring to people just by existing. You might be the type who’s so used to being strong as we talked about how you are used to being neglected so you have now developed this coping mechanism , to carrying your own burdens, that you don’t notice how much your presence lifts others up. But trust me—people see it. You have this warm, radiant energy that just feels good to be around. And it’s not the loud, center-of-attention kind of warmth. It’s the kind that makes people feel like they can be themselves. The kind that makes them feel lighter, freer, happier.

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⋆𐙚₊˚Pile lll

First off, the fact that you got two Major Arcana cards in this reading? Yeah, this isn’t just about your surface-level sweetness. You people are the softest in the way that you inspire other people to keep going.

Starting off with this spread here, and oh my god, bestie, do you even realize how much you carry on your own? Like, I’m not even talking about small worries—I mean the deep, sleepless-night kind of overthinking. The taking on everyone else’s pain while pushing yours aside type of energy. y’all are like a walking contrast in the best way possible. On one hand, you carry a lot of internal battles, but on the other hand, you are the biggest source of light for others. And that’s what makes you so incredibly lovable. Your softness isn’t just about being gentle—it’s about being brave enough to keep believing in something better, even when life has knocked you down. You feel things deeply, and honestly? That’s what makes you so lovable. Here’s the thing: your softness isn’t in being effortlessly sweet—it’s in being brave enough to still love despite everything you’ve been through. You’ve had moments where you felt alone, where you thought, No one sees what I’m going through. But you never let that turn you cold. Instead, you became the person who helps others feel less alone. You are the definition of “I got you” energy—the friend, the lover, the safe space that people don’t even realize they need until they meet you. You make people feel understood, like they don’t have to carry things by themselves anymore. And that? That is rare. Now, let’s talk about The Star—because, DAMN, you don’t even realize how much of a light you are, do you? This card sitting right here tells me something crazy beautiful about you, You make people believe in good things again. You are literally hope personified. i think You people give the best motvational speeches Lol. You don’t sugarcoat things, but somehow you always know the right thing to say to pull someone out of their darkness. You remind people that life keeps moving, and better days are coming. You have this infectious “Why not?” attitude.

And what’s wild? You do this without even realizing it. Like, you’ll say something casually, and days later, someone’s still thinking about it, because you saw something in them that they didn’t even see in themselves. That’s your magic. Your love is quiet, but it’s healing. But here’s where it gets interesting—The Fool. And I love, love, LOVE this placement because this tells me your most lovable quality isn’t just your strength—it’s your ability to keep going. Like, after everything? You still believe in new beginnings. You still take risks with your heart. You still trust that there’s more to life than just pain and struggle. People are drawn to you because you remind them that it’s okay to start over. That it’s okay to try, to love, to hope—even after things have hurt them. And that’s something so rare. Because most people who’ve been through what you’ve been through? They shut down. But you? You open up. You jump, even when you’re scared. You let life surprise you. And that? That’s love in its purest form.

Your sweetness isn’t in being overly bubbly or outwardly affectionate—it’s in being real. In being the person who gets up even when life knocks them down. In being the kind of love that doesn’t demand attention but changes lives just by existing. And that? That’s a love the world doesn’t see enough of.

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Thank you so much for reading all the way through! I hope my reading resonated with you and that you had a lovely time going through it. If you enjoyed it, please like and reblog—it really means a lot! Let me know which pile you chose; I absolutely love hearing your thoughts and feedback on my readings! If my reading resonated you, you may consider buying my paid reading as it would really help me out financially♡

Note: tarot cards provide guidance and possible insights into what could happen based on current energies, thoughts, and actions. the cards can highlight potential paths or outcomes, but they do not fixedly predict the future. this is a general reading so take what resonates!

[huxhsz]

🍎 ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ikaw lang

— synopsis: caleb is back, but he's different. he looks the same, talks the same—but something about him feels just out of reach, like a melody you can’t quite remember. the boy who used to piggyback you home, who cut apples for you without complaint, who always found a way to annoy and protect you in equal measure—he's not here anymore. and yet, as you watch him silently peel an apple, his hands steady and sure, you realize something. you still want him. even if he’s changed. even if he's not the same. because no matter what, he’s never leaving you again. — note/s: first post on tumblr im a bit intimidated HAHA wrote this while listening to ikaw lang by nobita and also realized i NEED filo caleb. save me filo caleb save me I NEED TO WRITE A FILO COLLEGE/HS AU OF HIM SO BAD

cross-posted on ao3! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡

caleb has changed, you realize grimly.

he sounds the same, looks the same, talks the same—

but he's not your caleb.

he's not the same caleb who used to piggyback you home after school, he's not the same caleb who would use you as his fake girlfriend to ward off his fangirls, he's not the same caleb who would slice apples for you because you would always complain about being lazy... no.

when you look at this man's—this stranger's—face, you do not see your caleb. you see fleet colonel caleb of the farspace fleet, you see a soldier hardened by war, a man who has seen too much and lost even more.

"—pipsqueak? pipsqueakk— earth to pipsqueak? oh, there she is! hello, what has gotten you so out of it? you're staring, y'know."

caleb raises an eyebrow, leaning back against the kitchen counter like he belongs there. like this is normal. like you haven’t been standing here, silently cataloging every little thing that’s different about him.

"am i?" you blink, tilting your head, feigning ignorance. "you sure it’s not you just being self-conscious?"

"as if," he scoffs, and there—there it is. a glimpse of him, of the boy you knew, the boy who used to flick your forehead whenever you got too smug.

but then it’s gone, swallowed up by something older, something colder.

his fingers tap against the counter, a steady rhythm. you used to recognize all his nervous habits. the way he’d scratch the back of his neck when lying, the way his nose scrunched when he was about to say something stupid. this? this tapping? you don’t know this one.

"well?" he prompts. "you gonna tell me why you’re looking at me like i grew a second head?"

"you’d be lucky if that happened. then you’d have twice the brain cells," you retort automatically. safe. easy. the kind of banter you used to have.

it works. he rolls his eyes, lips twitching like he wants to smirk. "real original. you workshopping that one while zoning out?"

you shrug, moving to the fridge. "maybe."

his eyes follow you. you feel them, just like you feel the weight of his presence in this space that suddenly feels too small. he was gone for so long, and now he’s here, standing in your kitchen like nothing’s changed.

like everything hasn’t.

"you still eat those awful store-bought apple slices?" he asks, nodding toward the fridge.

"mm. got tired of cutting them myself."

he exhales sharply—something between a laugh and a sigh. "figures. lazy as ever."

you expect him to leave it at that, but then, before you can process it, he’s reaching for the fruit bowl on the counter. a knife glints in his hand, and for a second, your breath catches. not because you’re afraid—no, never of him—but because of how he holds it.

not with the careless ease of someone cutting fruit. but with the precise grip of a soldier trained to kill.

a second too late, he seems to realize it too. his fingers shift, adjusting to something more casual, more familiar.

"still want them peeled?" he asks, tone too light.

you force yourself to breathe. "obviously."

he hums. starts peeling. his movements are too smooth, too calculated, but for a moment, if you squint, you can almost pretend.

almost.

he hands you a slice without looking up. you take it.

it tastes the same.

you chew slowly, watching him, waiting for something—anything—that feels real.

his gaze flickers to yours, unreadable. then, softer, quieter—

"good?"

the apple sits heavy on your tongue.

you swallow.

"yeah."

you chew, swallow, and place the half-eaten slice on the counter. caleb watches, waiting for something—maybe for you to complain about how the pieces aren’t cut evenly like you used to. but you don’t. you just stare at him, this version of him, and you realize something.

you still want him.

not just the boy he used to be—the one who would throw you over his shoulder just to prove he could, the one who’d grumble about being your fake boyfriend but always played the part too well. no, you want this caleb, too. the one who stands before you now, heavier with the weight of things unsaid, carrying shadows you don’t recognize.

your fingers twitch, and before you can overthink it, you reach out. you expect him to flinch when you press your palm against his wrist—his grip tightens just slightly around the knife, but he doesn’t pull away.

"caleb." you say his name like an answer to a question neither of you have asked.

his jaw tightens. he sets the knife down, slow and deliberate. when he finally looks at you, his eyes are searching, guarded—but underneath it, there’s something raw. something afraid.

"i know," he says. and it’s barely a whisper, but you hear everything. the guilt, the exhaustion, the hesitation.

you exhale. "i never said anything."

"you don’t have to." his lips press into a thin line. "i can tell."

you consider denying it, telling him he’s being dramatic, but you’re tired of pretending. so instead, you squeeze his wrist, grounding him.

"it’s okay," you say quietly. "if you’re no longer the same caleb I knew."

his breath hitches. you feel it more than you hear it.

"because either way—" you tighten your grip, firm, unwavering, "you’re never leaving me again."

his body stills. like he’s waiting for the catch, for the conditions, for something that makes this feel less like a promise and more like a fleeting moment he can let slip through his fingers.

but you don’t take it back.

caleb swallows. his free hand twitches at his side, like he wants to reach for you but doesn’t know if he’s allowed to.

"say it again," he murmurs, voice barely above a breath.

you step closer. "you’re never leaving me again. i won't let you."

this time, he exhales shakily, as if he’s been holding his breath for years. and then—finally—he rests his forehead against yours.

neither of you move.

the apples sit forgotten on the counter.

(caleb drops a bag onto the counter with a dull thud.

you glance at it, then at him. “what’s this?”

“apples,” he says, already rolling up his sleeves.

you blink. “they’re not pre-cut.”

“no shit,” he snorts, pulling out a knife. "figured you were overdue for the real thing.”

you watch as he starts peeling—smooth, practiced movements, no hesitation. he still holds the knife like a soldier, but his hands are steady, deliberate. for you.

a slice appears in front of your face. you take it without a word. it tastes fresher, sweeter.

he smirks. “better than that store-bought crap?”

you chew, swallowing down something thick in your throat, replacing it with something lighter in your chest.

“…yeah.”)

[thealexchen]

Why Dontnod's games feel original and inspired (and why Deck Nine's games don't)

So, I've talked at length about how Double Exposure feels much more like a corporate product than a playable piece of art entertainment [My initial thoughts on the DE trailer] [My thoughts on the early access paywall] [My thoughts on the weird marketing].

But now with the release of Lost Records, I feel like I have no choice but to confront the question: were any of Deck Nine's games truly original or inspired in any way? And honestly, I have to say no.

Objectively, I could say it's because Deck Nine literally has not produced any original IP's since their rebrand from Idol Minds in 2017. Their only narrative adventure games are all part of the LiS franchise. But even their most original game, True Colors, pretty obviously follows the first game's narrative formula (young woman with a superpower investigates a sudden disappearance/death in a small town with a dark secret, has two opposite sex love interests, learns about a twist villain, is nearly murdered, and goes through a psychological nightmare in the last episode) to a tee. But oh look, there's also a LARP!

But I believe there's more to it than that, because when I look at Dontnod's games, they are always inspired by other works. Life is Strange 1 plays very clear homage to Twin Peaks with the Pacific Northwest setting and Rachel Amber resembling Laura Palmer. Max Caulfield is named after the protagonist of The Catcher in the Rye, another novel about the fleeting innocence of childhood and superficiality of society. Life is Strange borrows tropes from Donnie Darko, Groundhog Day, The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, Stand By Me, and even Blue is The Warmest Color for its themes and plot points. Just take a look at its "Shout-out" page on TV Tropes. And the result is... something completely original, with riveting plot twists, memorable characters, and an ending that will make you cry.

This shouldn't make sense, right? You'd think this big soup of references would turn into an indistinguishable mess of cliches, but Life is Strange managed to be a synthesis of everything the writers loved and were inspired by, to become something completely new. Why? Because nobody had tried to take Twin Peaks, Donnie Darko, and The Catcher in the Rye and turn it into a video game before! And make it gay!

The point being, Dontnod consistently makes original material because they take creative risks. This is definitely not done lightly, since they still need to be a company that generates profit, but they still prioritize making art over selling out. Their stories feel inspired because they are inspired; when writers love what they're writing about, the result is a passion project that has loving, clever nods to all the works that are woven into it.

So perhaps a way to reword that first question is to then ask, "Have Deck Nine's games ever been inspired by anything?" And unfortunately, the answer is still no. Instead, they just copy what they hope will sell well. And a bland imitation for the sake of generating profit is never going to produce anything that feels original.

This takes me back to Lost Records, which is also clearly inspired by the same works: Twin Peaks, It: Chapter One, The Craft, The Blair Witch Project, The Goonies, Stand By Me. But again, no other game studio besides Dontnod has ever looked at these works and thought, "But what if it starred teenage lesbians instead?" Or, more specifically: "How do we capture the spirit of what made these media great and incorporate that into a new story for a new audience?" And those characters have so much thought and care poured into them too: while I've been disappointed that Double Exposure Max looks airbrushed to hell and back, I love that the Bloom & Rage girls have asymmetrical faces, acne, freckles, body hair, skin discoloration, and diverse body types. Double Exposure is marketed as nostalgia bait for fans, where Max is reduced to a prettied-up, polished-up, representation of nostalgia, not even her own character anymore, in a game that otherwise has no connection to the original. Her quips are reduced to "Hey! Remember our good ol', dad-joke cracking, dorky Max Caulfield??" and her grief is shoved aside for "Hey, look at that appealing new love interest! Because we knoooow y'all love your sapphic romance, right?"

By contrast, Lost Records has only been out for 10 days, but I already feel like the girls are some of the most memorable characters I've come across in gaming for the niche they fill. Swann seems like your typical Max-like dork, except she's also a movie buff and giddy about bugs, horror, and the paranormal; and has clearly been affected by her mother's fatphobic beliefs. Autumn is a level-headed leader who always stuck to her desire to help others, and her Blackness naturally informs her desire to feel valued and not cause trouble in a small, very white, conservative town. Nora intrigues me so much for going from a fun-loving rebel punk teen to a more gender-conforming, capitalist-leaning, influencer businesswoman. And Kat feels like an evolution of Chloe's cynicism, where her scrappy charm belies an almost unsettling obsession with the occult and a deep, tragic chasm of rage at having to confront her mortality far too young. They make sense. They feel carefully written, genuine, and like real people.

But most of all, Dontnod's games have never felt like products. In fact, most of their characters have historically gone against the grain of what traditionally "marketable" characters are. The first LiS took all these aforementioned stories about straight white men and chose to remix and retell it through the eyes of a young, queer, time-traveling girl instead. Tell Me Why is the first AAA game with a trans protagonist, and Tyler is voiced by a trans actor in all the language dubs. Lost Records decided that it would tell its story through four queer teenage girls, with women writers onboard, and fucking own it. As long as Dontnod keeps making games that stick to their creative integrity, I'll keep respecting their vision in whatever they decide to create next. Also, maybe I should finally watch Twin Peaks.

Thank you for reading!

[sunrisecaminus]

HIII, I LOVE YOUR WRITING SM, ITS SRSLY SO SCRUMPTIOUS? <333

I wanted to request bumblebee/ratchet/knockout/ megatron headcanons of them finding reader working on a lot of figurines and their vehicle models. I want to see how the bots would react? (Esp ratchet, I love that grumpy old man sm)

Message - DUDE JBVPAVHUBSVO! I wish I could write more, but this is all I could think of. Also awe thanks! Don't make me blush :3

Bumblebee/Knockout/Ratchet/Megatron x Reader Headcanons

Summary - Human makes their Cybertronians friend a figurine of their alt mode. All their reactions to you making them the cutest thing ever.

Warning - Cute

Bumblebee

When he finds your little workshop, watching you making a polished figurine of his car, he was fully supportive of it. He loved everything that you did and every time he saw you making your projects, Bee stays around and observes how you make the details. There is a cute joke you guys do by telling him to "freeze!!!" when he is in his alt mode. You take pictures of what he looks like to help yourself have references. Bumblebee would try so hard not to make any sound while you work, but if you ask him if he likes it…you would get loud excited beeping about how beautiful you made him. The fact he would keep every single one of them will show you how much he appreciates them. If someone told you that the figurines suck, Bumblebee would go wild and make sure that person never comes close to you again. It's funny how mad he gets to protect you, but honestly its very sweet.

Knockout

Now, Knockout would be the most obnoxious person about finding out about your skill. This man would kiss and snuggle you every day for the rest of your life after he knows. Need references? Just ask him and he would stay in his alt mode for long periods of time so you can have one you could actually look at in person. Do you understand how much this guy would adore you? Do you understand how much he adores HIMSELF?! Do you remember how in the show, Starscream would brag to everyone how he was the one to kill cliffjumper? YEAH THAT'S KNOCKOUT! "Did you know I am a hired model? My body is so beautiful, a master of sculpting is using it for their art projects~" He will say it every where. Starscream being annoying? Knockout brags about being a model. Arachnid being a threatening meanie? Knockout will say you were useful for showing off his sexy body in sculptures. Megatron mad at him for having an unsuccessful mission? "Well big M, at least today I am going to outshine everyone on this ship by getting a sculpture version of me." He is weirdly supportive of it…in his own way. Knockout would cherish everything you do and even help buy you better supplies to help you improve. Everyday he would see you working on one and you would just feel a little kiss on your head to feel his loving energy.

Ratchet

"What in the Allspark are you doing? I am not someone for you to just make a replica of!" Yeah Ratchet is very much flustered about the whole thing. You making a figurine of his alt mode was adorable though, seeing a miniature him was so embarrassing. What you secretly don't know is that he put the figures up on the desk he has so he can appreciate your crafts while working. Does he wish you would just stop? Yes. Is he going to tell you? No! He would never tell you to stop doing things you like, just please stop making sculptures of him. He would try to nit pick the figurine to make you think you didn't do good and that would make you not sculpt him anymore, but when he saw how upset you got, thinking you made him look ugly…yeah he broke. Now he just blushes and says it looks good whenever you show him your finished product. Not a warm and fuzzy kind of guy, but he would secretly buy you more materials online so you could continue your dreams and passions. He understands the feeling of being good at your job, and doesn't want to ruin that for you. If he heard someone talk crap about your projects, Ratchet might get suspended for medical malpractice later.

Megatron

OF COURSE THIS EGOTISTICAL WARLORD LIKES IT! He would put the damn thing next to his throne to look at it from time to time. "Make me another or I will use you for target practice!" Anyone who says you are bad at making figurines will DIE. Don't question the decapitated body in the corner, please don't even mention it. He would title you are an architect on his ship and give you a respectable salary if you keep making him stuff. It doesn't even have to be sculptures of him. Make him a model of the ship and he would use it as a 3d blueprint whenever he wants to upgrade something on the ship. "And you see here, this is where I want the new engines to be placed." Starscream thinks this shit is stupid. Will he ever tell Megatron? FRAG NO! You are now the lord's favorite and nothing will change that. He would sit you on the arm of his throne and pet you on the top of your head. You will never leave, you will never switch sides, and you will never be killed. Oh and his threats are fake, that man secretly loves you and would never lay a finger on you. He would send a figure to Optimus as a "look at what my soldiers do for me" type shit. Bro, you could tell him that someone ruined your project and he would literally walk around the ship with you on his shoulder, asking you to point out who. Even if it was Airachnid, nah, bye Airachnid! He would not care who it was, do not ruin his pet's MASTERPIECE!

[beatlblog]

#how does it feel to be thr voice of a generation sab#thats literally how i view u im not even gonba lie. you had such a huge hand in making thr classic rock fandom hilarious#in the small ways. you are the voice of a generation (via androcola)

#ty thats awesome i literally called myself csnyblr jesus earlier when i was talkin with kia (via cogneartive)

#can we have both. (via wronglennon)

#help! is beatles-produced beatles rpf (via ccsario)

#simon and garfunkel in an escape room (via ringosnoop)

#i think about celebrity tax returns probably as much as i think about them fucking.#especially when you pull up old tax forms from the 60s (or earlier) to see what they looked like#spoiler: they're so weird 😭 we're spoiled today (via surrealisticduvet)

i feel like people are seeing this as antagonistic towards sexual rpf. but what if its like “fuckkk john im sick and tired of these forms” “lets have sex paul” paul wipes his sweaty forehead with a towel embroided with john’s initials on it. “im not in the fucking mood john.” what then. (via cogneartive)

i just laughed much too hard at this thanks op

#claiming ringo as a dependent (via teomodo)

#truly the face of a guy going “youve got to do your taxes” (via tenderlady)

#the virgin tax filer vs the chad tax evader (via bambi-kinos)

#rpf would be george not evading taxes (via estrangedfiances)

#but also fuck the beatles for whining about money like cmon guys ur fine (via possessesnightshift)

#prev#i can buy decades long secret love affairs#but george complying with hmrc is too far (via callmemissodell)

prev is estrangedfiances

#sorry prev#you’re not a chad tax evader if you’re rich (via destrokkit)

#are the beatles movies rpf or do the people being written about have to not be involved#the beatles#also this is just what monkees fanfiction is like. if you consider monkees fanfiction rpf#the monkees when the line between character and real person is nonexistent: (via wyrmalien)

#lmfao johns looking at him like girl what are you sayinggg 😂😂 (via revollver)

#and the degree to which everyone went on expecting paul to wrangle john#including paul and john (via torchlitinthedesert)

#john face is literally 😦#tbf isnt it the accountants' job to do that??#why is john accountant ringing up paul's accountant to ask them to ask paul to ask john to do his taxes#so messy i love it (via comradeharrison)

#the real rpf here should be about the accountants#imagine what those conversations were like (via ohblahdo)

*first conversation w/o yoko present they’ve had in months” Paul: I need to talk to you. John (thinking): omg he loves me yes finally Paul: Have you finished your taxes? (via magzthemad)

#i just love that johns accountants were like#shit johns not doing his taxes. better get his boy bestie to make him do it (via oldmanpusspuss)

#maybe don't write hit song bitching about paying tax that's probably not gonna help george (via cinemaocd)

#anyone else distracted by George’s cunty sunglasses here (via sufjanista)

#i remember george bitching about the 97% income (?) tax in England at one point (via floating-hasselblad)

#McCartney isnt dead he is an adult with taxes (via schaudwen)

#I love this#because truly this is just the tip of the iceberg#when it comes to beatles and tax problems (via thestarsarecool)

#john pleeeeeeeeeeeease do your taxes i don't need another boyfriend of mine to go to jail (via monkberryfields)

#love the immediate devolvement into arguments about the beatles taxes in the replies#really warms my heart to know critical fandom discourse is still alive and well (via paulmccartneyexplodingonstage)

or something

#why didnt he do his goddamn taxes#i dont CARE if you wrote imagine you should do your fucking taxes mr lennon (via hankjwimbleton)

#this was paul saying 'i still love you'#i'm gonna pretend john didn't do his taxes on purpose#just so that paul could bug him about it#and prove he still cared (via notgrungybitchin)

et voilá

(via happytimetravelmilkshake)

#i am here for responsible little brother#telling devil may care big brother#to fill in his tax returns (via stesichoreanpalinode)

#absolutely love how Ringo is sitting there like (via leons-tits)

#he was just a ditzy manic pixie dream girl and Paul was his serious sensible bf fr (via gmaybe666)

#i have dredged the barrel#love that he remembers this but not like...anything else (via scurator)

All You Need Is Love And To Fill Out Your Tax Forms (via thesaltofcarthage)

#you can practically see him saying 'listen man you've got to file your taxes?'#(? not as in question mark but in that trademark raising of pitches at the end that#Paul McCartney and many Scousers do) (via aeolianblues)

#3 normal guys in suits and 1 very lost eccentric billionaire caveman (via buggywyrm)

very interesting that people automatically assume rpf as having sexual content. lets have rpf of the beatles struggling with tax

[yey56]

Hey I just wanted to say I really love your Harley and believe you're the only one who got his character so far.I am also in love with your y/n and how you didn't make her perfect or useless.Not to be a bother but can you show or tell us Harley and y/n's relationship after their first kiss or just any of their general interactions?Whatever suits you,thank you.

It doesn't bother me at all, thank you for asking and I so happy I got Harley right. 💖💖

HARLEY SAWYER X PSYCOLOGIST READER

AFTER KISS HEADCANNONS

The first thing you noticed was Harley's hand on your face, caressing your cheek. He was only going to quickly clean near your lip but after feeling your jaw, your face, brushing his fingers against your neck he couldn't resist to cup your cheek.

The other hand fell down to loosely grab your waist. He was getting closer and you could feel his breath on your lips. You slowly put your hands on his shoulder, testing how he would react.

"Harley" you mumbled, you lips brushing his. That was enough for him to close the gap between the two of you. Your lips moving together, not in perfectly or coordinately way, but in your own way.

You tightened your grasp in the fabric of his shoulder as he fully envolved your waist with his hand while the one that was on you face fell down to your neck where he started caressing.

Finally you both separated from the kiss, both of you agitated but still close. His hand was still on your cheek and yours still on his shoulders

You looked at him again and got close to give him another short kiss. "Do you have any appointments left for today?" Harley asked you. "Yes I do, I still have to supervise Kissy Missy, she hasn't been responding lately"

"Good, come to my office after that, we have to discuss this in depth." He let you go and while you went to the enclosure of said toy, he remained still in the corridor looking at you intensely.

HEADCANNONS After the kiss:

At first sigh, there wasn't much change, maybe the staff of the company noticed you being closer than usual.

Now, Doctor Sawyer and you were seen together very often. Maybe not all lovey dovey but together nonetheless. The caretakers saw often Dr Sawyer accompanying you when you needed to go to Home sweet Home to talk with the children.

Once Ludwig joked to Sawyer that you two seemed glued together and Harley only shrugged not denying anything.

Now that you two had already acknowledged your feelings, little things he did for you sometimes became the norm and started becoming part of your routine.

For example: When you were finishing a design late at night in his office (you often spend time together in each others offices) and he was finishing surgery reports, he would offer you the sofa to sleep in.

Once you were asleep he would raise his gaze from the papers and look at you. Some nights, he would even approach you and touch your face very lightly, not wanting to wake you up.

Quiet moments like this made him calm and let him forget, just a little, about all of the chaos and restriction that your jobs were.

In the nights that he was in your office, he would be just behind you with his hand on your shoulder, looking at you writing and archiving some documents. Caressing your shoulder, then the back of your neck and sometimes, if he was feeling kind enough, he would massage the back of your scalp with his long, cold fingers.

Another thing that became more regular between you both was physical contact. He wasn't a touchy person. Hell he even felt repelled to it sometimes, but one thing he loved was the back massages you gave him.

He had a very tensed back and it felt like heaven whenever you would untangle all of the knots.

So he payed you back giving you head massages. He was probably the only person allowed to tangle and touch your hair. You two just melt into each others arms when you had contact.

Another thing that was common now was that you would do little task for each other. Like for example, Harley reminding you that you needed to drink water. You were so concentrated into your work that you just forgot how much time it had been since your last glass of water.

You sometimes shave the little stubble he had on the sides of his face, styling his facial hair so he would look all put together. This also applied with the hair. You cut his hair and mantain it in the way he liked.

One night that you miraculously ended your work sooner than expected he invited you for dinner.

The restaurant was a fancy one, both your salaries permitted you to be there.

The night went by very calmly, you talked about work and what projects you had in mind. At some point you started talking about your experiences in collage...

The night continued to go on until you both finally went to your apartment. You lived in a good neighborhood and your place was nicely decorated. The first thing Harley though when entering your apartment was you. Everything in there screamed you.

You invited him to a few drinks and gave him some reports and books about investigations on child psychology so he could study his experiments on a deeper level.

The drinks were forgotten on the table after a few sips.

He barely talked while you ranted for minutes about techniques to manage anxiety crisis or stress attacks that sometimes overcame the toys on the prison.

He looked at you, talking and talking. It was always like this. You talked nonstop and he would listen, but lately he also started admiring you. Your hand gestures, you movements, your words slipping due to talking to fast...

You stopped talking when he started to gently stroke your neck with a precision only a surgeon could manage to have. He started naming the muscles, nerves, veins and arteries that were in your neck

With each name he said, he got closer to you to the point of feeling his lips touching your neck.

He repeated the list of names but now kissing each place he named while laying you on the sofa of your living room.

There's no need to say that the night didn't end quickly.

————————————————————————

Another thing you both got used to do was taking books from your offices. Harley had anatomy books and autobiographies in his office and you had sociological, historic and anthropological ones.

Often you would spend your breaks in each others offices reading in the sofa, just enjoying each others presence.

The staff already suspected that you two were either together or at the verge to be. Hell even one of the children had drew you and Harley sit together in a chair while interviewing him.

Stella went to tease you about the drawing, and insisted on you keeping it.

At some point some guards started to joke about the two of you being together.

"Where is Dr (Y/L/N) right now, we have matter to discuss with them?" Leith asked to one of the guards accompanied by Stella

We need to discuss with her some changes on the home sweet home caretakers" Stella added.

She is in the observation room 007, accompanied by Dr Sawyer, sir" He responded cordially.

Both executives went to said room while the guard looked sideways to his coworker who was chuckling to himself.

"What are you laughing about" He asked, questioning what had his companion found that it was so funny

"Nothing, just wondering how Dr Sawyer would react when 'Mrs Sawyer' gets taken by these two for a reunion. I bet five dollar he will accompany them when they get out." He was now laughing a little bit louder but covering his mouth.

"You shouldn't be talking about that kind of stuff. If either of them hear you you might be the next dinner of Boxy Boo." He couldn't believe his coworkers audacity. He wasn't being discreet at all and that might cost them their jobs and life's.

Just as the guard predicted, the four executives went to the upper levels. Apparently Harley insisted on supervising the changes on the environment of the potential experiments children

-Unedited-

[elliesbabygirl]

RUN YOUR MOUTH [ E. W ] PT. 1

Word count: 1.7k words

Series synopsis: You and ellie broke up when you wanted more than a fwb situationship , yet she can't stop talking about you, even when you're in the same room as her and her friends. ( + a little more ellie-focused but trust me please..)

warnings: mentions of drinking alcohol, sweering + no more warnings! unless you're not into lower-case intend from a lazy author...

author's note: I'm going further into the pool of writing for ellie williams..I'm excited n scared. ellie's lowkey (HIGHKEY) an asshole in this one but i wanted to try writing angst + this is like a 2023 draft-series i never finished, back when i was still a good writer😭part two soon.... If this doesn't flop. Please reblog + like if you've enjoyed this!!

The house was packed, bodies pressed together as music thumped through the walls, drowning out any coherent conversation. The air was thick with the smell of sweat, cheap beer, and a fire that burned in the fraternity's backyard.

Ellie leaned against the kitchen counter, one hand wrapped around a lukewarm can of beer, the other gesturing wildly as she recounted ths latest tirade about her repeated ex, you.

"I'm just saying, dude." She scoffed, shaking her head. "She's the most dramatic person I have ever met. Like everything was a huge life-ending crisis for her." Ellie took a long swig of her beer, catching her breath, before she continued trashing on you.

"If I didn't text her back in five minutes? boom, I was ignoring her. If i wanted a night out with you guys? I suddenly didn't care about her feelings." Jesse absentmindedly nodding along, not caring for Ellie's rant as he looked down at his own beer.

"It was exhausting, like, get a fucking grip." She added, shaking her head, again.

Dina snorted into her red cup. "you're so fucked up for this, Ellie."

"Am I wrong, though?" Ellie shot back, grinning at Dina. "Come on, you guys saw how she was, especially on double dates." Jesse raised his eyebrows. "I mean...yeah, you guys weren't the best, but don't go in on her when she's–"

"Right over there?" Dina finished, subtly nodding past Ellie.

Ellie turned, her stomach flipping when she locked eyes with you. you stood a few feet away, eyes glistening under the harsh kitchen lights. The half-empty drink in your hand trembled slightly, gripping it like it was the only thing keeping you grounded.

"You really couldn't help yourself, huh?" You said, voice barely audible over the loud music.

Ellie's smirk faltered. "Look, I was just–"

"No, I heard you, Ellie" You took a shakey breath, your voice rising just enough to make Jesse and Dina shift uncomfortably.

"You love this, don't you? Running your mouth and making me out to be some crazy bitch so you can feel better about how you treated me."

Ellie scoffed, pushing herself off the counter. "Oh my god, here we go again–"

"No, shut the fuck up, Ellie." The whole kitchen went silent. Even the distant bass of the music seemed to fade as everyone turned to watch the unfolding disaster.

"You act like I was the problem, but you were an asshole to me." You continued, voice cracked. "you shut me down the second things got hard, you made me feel like I was 'too much' just for wanting you, Ellie."

"now you're standing here, laughing about it to Dina and Jesse like I was worth nothing to you." Ellie's throat went dry. she could feel Dina and Jesse's eyes on her, waiting to see her response.

"i-"

you let out a humorless laugh, shaking your head as tears fall down your face.

"fuck you, Ellie." Voice wavering and eyes steady—filled with nothing but exhaustion and hurt. You had enough of fighting for your innocence, especially to somebody that never cared for you.

"You're a horrible person, Ellie, I hope you know that."

Ellie felt something twist in her chest, something ugly and painful, but before she could even try to respond, you shoved past her, disappearing through the crowd.

The silence lingered for a few beats before the music swallowed the tension, and people went back to their drinks, their conversations, and their distractions.

Meanwhile, Ellie stood frozen, gripping the beer can that indented in her hand. She could feel the weight of your words, heavy and suffocating, echoing louder than the music ever could in her head.

Her pulse was hammering against her ribs as your words sank in.

You're a horrible person, Ellie, I hope you know that.

The kitchen was still thick with tension, even as people settled back into their conversations. Dina and Jesse exchanged a worrisome glance, both hesitating before turning their attention back to Ellie.

"Dude.." Jesse muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

"That was—"

"Yeah, I got it." Ellie snapped, tossing her beer can onto the counter. It sloshed over the rim, pooling next to a pile of abandoned red solo cups. Her jaw was clenched so tight it ached, but she forced out a breath, trying to shake off the burning in her chest.

Dina eyes her warily. "you good?"

Ellie wanted to say yeah, wanted to roll her eyes, crack a joke, and pretend like the whole thing hadn't left her skin burning with embarrassment. Yet, her throat felt tight and her fingers twitched like they didn't know what to do with themselves.

So instead, she scoffed. "Am I a horrible person?" She asked, looking between them. "Seriously? She was asking for more than what we agreed on."

Dina's expression was unreadable. "Ellie—"

“She knew what this was!” Ellie continued, voice rising despite herself. “I told her from the start—I wasn’t looking for anything serious, but suddenly, it’s my fault because she caught feelings?"

She ran a tattooed hand through her short auburn hair, frustration clear in her words. "Like, yeah, we spent time together, we had fun, but that didn't mean I wanted the whole relationship package. She just—expected more, like I was supposed to change for her."

"But I'm the bad guy?"

Jesse sighed at Ellie's behavior. “You were the one talking shit about her while she was in the room.”

“Yeah, well, maybe she shouldn’t have listened in on my conversation.” Ellie shot back, but even as she said it, it felt weak, forced even, as if she was putting on a 'tough guy' act.

Dina crossed her arms, staring at Ellie like she was trying to pick apart a puzzle. "you really don't get it, don't you?"

Ellie frowned. "Get what?"

Dina let out a slow breath. “You hurt her, and instead of just letting her move on, you stood here and made a fucking joke out of it. Right in front of her.”

Ellie opened her mouth to argue, but nothing came out, because what was she supposed to say? That she didn’t mean for it to get back to her? That it wasn’t that serious? That it didn’t hurt as bad as you made it seem?

Because that would be a lie. And if Ellie was honest with herself, she knew the truth.

Ellie knew she wasn't built for commitment. She knew she got too comfortable, letting things go further than she should have. Let you believe it could be more—because, for a while, maybe Ellie wanted to believe it too.

But she was always going to pull away.

And now, standing in the mess she made, she felt sick.

"Fuck." Ellie muttered under her breath, dragging a hand over her face.

Dina and Jesse were still watching her, waiting to see what she’d do next. She could tell they were both teetering on the edge of saying something, maybe telling her to go after you, or maybe just reminding her what an asshole she was.

Ellie swallowed. “I need some air.”

Without another word, she pushed past them, heading for the back door. The party raged on around her, but for the first time all night, she felt completely and utterly alone.

The cool night air hit Ellie’s skin as she stepped outside, but it did nothing to settle the tightness in her chest. The backyard was quieter than the house, the muffled bass of the music thudding through the walls. A couple of people sat around a fire pit, laughing, passing a joint between them. None of them looked at her.

Good. She didn’t feel like talking.

Ellie exhaled sharply and dragged a hand down her face, then pulled a cigarette from her pocket. Her fingers shook as she lit it, but she told herself it was just the cold. She took a slow drag, letting the smoke sit in her lungs before releasing it into the night.

your voice was still ringing in her ears.

You're a horrible person.

Ellie clenched her jaw.

She’s just mad, Ellie told herself. People say shit when they’re mad.

But the way you had looked at Ellie—like she was something cruel, something heartless—it unsettled her.

A horrible person.

Ellie had never thought of herself that way. Sure, she had flaws. She could be distant, avoidant, maybe even selfish, but horrible? That felt like something else entirely.

Yet, wasn’t this exactly why Ellie never let things get serious? Why she bailed the second people wanted more from her?

Because deep down, maybe Ellie was horrible.

Maybe Ellie didn’t know how to care about someone the way they wanted her to, maybe she never would.

The thought left a bitter taste in her mouth, worse than the lit cigarette near her mouth.

She was so caught up in her own thoughts that she almost didn’t hear the sound of footsteps approaching.

Dina.

Ellie sighed, knowing she wasn’t about to get out of this conversation. “If you’re here to lecture me, just—don’t.”

Dina ignored that and leaned against the railing beside her. “I wasn’t gonna lecture you.” Ellie glanced at her, unconvinced.

Dina sighed. “Look, I’m not saying what happened back there wasn’t messy. It was, but…” She hesitated. “You’re not a bad person, Ellie.”

Ellie let out a humorless laugh. “Yeah? Tell that to y/n.”

Dina was quiet for a moment. “You really liked y/n, didn’t you?”

Ellie’s grip on her cigarette tightened. “I don’t know.”

“Bullshit.”

Ellie exhaled, watching the smoke curl into the night. “I did, but I liked things the way I wanted them and that wasn’t enough for y/n.”

Dina shook her head. “Because no one wants to feel like they’re just an option, Ellie.”

Ellie swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry. “I never meant to hurt y/n.”

“I know,” Dina said softly. “But you did.”

Ellie didn’t have a response to that.

The door opened again, and Jesse poked his head out. “Hey—some guy just puked in the kitchen, so if you’re looking for another disaster, there you go.”

Dina groaned. “Oh my god.”

Ellie barely reacted. Her mind was still stuck in the kitchen, in the way your voice cracked, the way you had looked at her like she was something irredeemable.

Dina sighed and gave Ellie’s shoulder a squeeze before heading back inside with Jesse, leaving her alone again.

Ellie took one last drag of her cigarette before flicking it into the grass. Then she sat down on the backdoor steps, elbows on her knees, head in her hands.

She had come outside for air, but no matter how deeply she breathed, it still felt like she was suffocating.

© 𝙚𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙚𝙨𝙗𝙖𝙗𝙮𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙡 ─ 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨 𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙙. 𝙙𝙤 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙘𝙤𝙥𝙮, 𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙨𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙤𝙧 𝙨𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙢𝙮 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙠 𝙤𝙣 𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙢𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙖 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙢𝙨.

COMMENT TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST!!

[asterafroditis]

hi!! I really enjoyed your asexual!yuu ficlet with Octavinelle and I wanted to request the same thing but with Leona?

thanks in advance if you do write this, but please feel no pressure to do so! :D

𐔌 . ⋮ love over lust .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☓┆Leona Kingscholar x asexual gn! reader

𓏵 400 words

ᝰ.ᐟ headcanons, no pronouns used, fluff

feel free to like, reblog, or comment!

ᝰ.ᐟ masterlist

Leona has never been one to chase after fleeting desires. If he wants something, he takes it, and if he doesn’t, he doesn’t waste his time. When you tell him you’re asexual, he barely reacts—just a slow blink and a lazy, “Yeah? And?” Like hell he’d care about something like that. If he’s chosen you, then that’s it. End of story.

But if you expect him to ask a bunch of questions or try to ‘understand’ it on a deeper level, you’ll be waiting a long time. Leona doesn’t need some grand explanation. He just takes you as you are. Still, his instincts are sharp, and if he ever senses that you’re feeling self-conscious or unsure about what you bring to the relationship, he doesn’t let it slide. He hates seeing you doubt yourself over something he never even saw as an issue.

“Tch. You think I’d waste my time with someone who wasn’t worth it? You’re mine. That’s all that matters.”

Leona’s love is quiet but solid. He’s not the type to smother you with affection, but he’s there—a steady, reliable presence that makes it clear you never have to prove anything to him. He shows his feelings through actions rather than words: letting you nap against him, draping his jacket over your shoulders when you look cold, giving you the last piece of food off his plate without saying a word. He won’t change his personality for anyone, but if you pay attention, you’ll notice that you get a side of him no one else does.

When he pulls you into his arms, it’s never out of obligation. It’s because he wants to. When he rests his head in your lap, it’s not just because he’s tired—it’s because he trusts you enough to let his guard down. You don’t have to be anything more than yourself to deserve that.

If anyone ever dares to make you feel lesser for how you love, Leona will put them in their place before you even have the chance to react. He doesn’t tolerate anyone talking down to what’s his.

“People got too much to say about things that ain’t their damn business. You’re with me, herbivore. That’s enough.”

[everythingmp3]

changing her ways

adult!Van x fem!reader

when Van invites you over to her place, all she expects is just another meaningless hookup - what happens instead is that she ends up breaking her rule of never letting lovers stay over, never being romantic, never being tender, and the next morning, she doesn´t seem to regret it. not one bit.

authors note: felt like writing some more for her and used the idea of spending the morning with her after a hook-up to explore what it might look like if she met someone she actually liked during her era of "getting her needs met". hope you enjoy <3 (around 6k words)

warnings: some smut, both receiving

it had always sounded a bit cliché to you, sentiments like "love will come to you when you’re least looking for it", but there was a truth at its core, one that applied to how you and Van first crossed paths as lovers.

later on, you would come to look back and feel eternally grateful for the boredom you had felt that Friday night when you and her first met, because the only reason you ended up swiping through dating apps was that you had little else to do.

you weren’t really looking to meet up with anyone, it was more of a game to you, but then, out of nowhere, you were struck by the profile of an older woman. for a moment you hesitated but she was too painfully your type to let the chance pass you by, so you forced yourself to get over your nerves and start a chat with her. to your surprise, it only took her about ten minutes to respond, which you tried to take as a good sign, as encouragement to actually try to get somewhere with her.

Van was a dry texter, not one for chit-chat, so after a few brief words, she cut to the chase and asked you "would you maybe wanna come over for a drink?".

you werent naive, you knew that it was just a more polite way of saying "listen, I am just looking to hook up" but you didn’t mind, in fact, something about her being so forward and shameless about her interest thrilled you, it had its appeal after one too many times of wondering whether a woman was actually flirting or just being friendly - it also helped that she was older, a certain thrill to the feeling of being told "come over here" by someone who naturally held a bit of authority, simply due to your age difference. there was a faint smile of anticipation on your face the whole way over to her place, the sun disappearing behind the horizon as you entered her dark store and climbed the stairs up to her apartment.

the moment Van greeted you, not with a hug but an appreciative long glance over your figure as she stood by the counter and prepared a drink for you, it hit you: she was even hotter than expected. shockingly so. her voice immediately struck you at your core, the way she said "please, come in, sit", low and husky, an almost primal quality to the way your body reacted to her, the total conviction when you thought to yourself "I have to have her".

you tried not to stare too obviously as you waited for her on the couch but in person she was naturally much more striking than in the few photos you´d seen of her; her was outfit simple, a pair of well-fitted jeans and a white shirt, but something about the way the fabric hugged her curves made you feel warm all over when she came closer and joined you on the couch and handed you your glass. her hair fell down her shoulders in soft, thick waves and your fingers already ached with the desire to feel it, your heartbeat quicker when she finally looked at you face-on and seemed to like what she saw, undeniably so.

usually, the drink was only a polite gesture she offered people to make the transition from being strangers into having sex more smooth, with most of her lovers she had made it clear that a few minutes of talking were more than enough for her, she was not the type to dance around why she had invited someone over, but with you it was different.

Van found herself actually enjoying your company, the time passed quickly as you sat there and got to know each other a bit, there was a natural chemistry, a spark, both of you genuinely laughing here and there, getting invested in what the other person was saying, urging each other to go on, to share a bit more. the thing that caught her off-guard was that you were different than the other younger women she´d been with before.

Van tended to go for people who were of a different generation because she liked the control it gave her, the predictability of it, she was used to girls being easily flustered by her, being nervous and not really pushing back, letting her take the lead, but from the first minute you started talking, she realized: oh. this is new. she is not intimidated by me. the moment you told her "most of those tapes down there are older than me, you know", almost as if you were judging her, messing with her a bit, she thought "okay. this could be very fun" and let go of her initial fear of being with an equal.

you fell into a nice rhythm of conversation, so eventually she got you a second drink and completely forgot about her rule of keeping the people she slept with at arms length, anonymous, never asking for more details about their personal life than their first name and age. thirty minutes passed before you both remembered why you´d met up in the first place, which suddenly made you go quiet with anticipation, eyeing each other from up close and almost holding your breaths as you felt just how charged the air had become, how quickly you had managed to sink into a deep attraction to each other, a shared feeling of "I need her. badly.".

it was the first time in ages that Van felt butterflies before leaning into kiss someone, but she did, as she put her hand on your face and felt you meet her halfway to kiss her, deeply, her whole body burning with a fire that she´d long thought extinguished, but there it was, her whole face and chest flush pink from it as she held your face in both of her hands while kissing you, almost as if she was afraid you´d leave, pull back, change your mind, but you were just as eager, if not more, pressing yourself up against her and caressing her hair as you moved on the couch to be half on her lap, closer, as close as possible, her hands wandering down to your thighs to support you, her grip almost bruising in its urgency.

Van had gone a long time without indulging in that kind of sensuality, she hardly ever kissed people for longer than necessary during sex or leading up to it, but right then she remembered how much she had missed it, craved it, her hands all over you as you made out and sighed between kisses, her fingers briefly tilting your head up to allow her better access to your neck as her grip on you tightened - she seemingly wanted to devour you, which killed your ability to remain quiet or composed in any way, as you felt her thigh pressing up between your legs and let out a sound that broke down her last bit of restraint, the second she heard you moan like that for her, she pulled you up to lead you to her bedroom.

once you were both on her bed, after a frantic attempt to get undressed as fast as possible, you got lost in a neediness and desperation for each other that almost scared you, both of you shaking from how turned on you were, wet to a degree that almost hurt as you kissed and moved against each other, her eventually holding your arms down by your sides as you felt her lips and tongue, her teeth, all over your chest and stomach, over your underwear, teasing you, savoring the mess you´d made, before she went down on you like she was close to starving, which she was, after only ever allowing herself rushed and impersonal sex for too long, the kind of sex that was only focused on getting off and nothing more, you could feel it in the way she held your thighs apart and moaned from your taste, that she had not felt arousal like that in ages, and you willingly surrendered, letting her take her time with pleasing you, making you come undone, before you eagerly returned the energy, which turned into a long night of both of you taking turns again and again with helping the other person feel as good as possible, you and her both taking a deep pleasure in the way you managed to both worship and wreck each other, to be in a place of joint helplessness against the wave of desire that had swept you up out of nowhere, that left you raw and open in the most delicious way, sensitive to the smallest touch, the lightest kisses and licks, every little thing you did to each other.

in the middle of it, as Van was melting into you, against your mouth, as she felt another orgasm spreading through her already weak limbs, she thought "this is too intense, stop this, tell her to stop and leave" but she couldn´t bring herself to, you had done the thing she´d considered impossible for a stranger to mange: you´d broken down her walls. you´d made her surrender. you´d gotten under her skin, and as much as she wanted to hate it and tell herself to push you away, all she could think when she saw you look up at her with your chin and lips glistening, a tired but pleased smile on your face, was: this is what I´ve been missing.

the thing that drove you insane that night was that she was sensitive in a way you had no expected at all, you could tell that she was getting something she hadn´t in while from the way she moaned, almost in a pained manner, assuring you that she was fine when you paused to give her a moment to breathe, kissed her face and allowed her to take a second before you continued, her hands on the small of your back to ground herself as she sighed "don´t stop when I seem overwhelmed, just keep going, I want you to, okay?", which you didn´t have to be told twice, leaving both of you ruined by the end of the night before you fell asleep satisfied, tired, tangled up in the crumpled sheets, the pillows in the wrong place, and yet, a deep sense of comfort wrapped around you, Van half-conscious still as she wrapped her arms around you and forgot about her rule of sending people home, never sharing her bed. it felt right, healing in a way, to feel her lovers soft breath as she drifted off, her face close enough to you to be lulled to sleep by the scent of your skin, that she´d quickly become addicted to, a light kiss to your shoulder before sleep took her as well.

the next morning, she woke up earlier than you, so after a while of laying there, Van sat up and rested against the headboard and smiled to herself when you moved to rest on top of her. you were still half-asleep as you laid your head on her chest and savored the feeling of being heavy and limp on top of her, her body still warm from sleep, a feeling of utter ease even though you were in a strangers bed.

if anyone had told Van the evening before how she would start the next day, she would have cringed at the idea of allowing that level of intimacy, but the way you were laying there evoked a foreign mix of both affection and protectiveness in her, as she watched you and ran her palm up and down your back, slowly, eventually caressing your hair, which got a purring sound out of you that made her laugh quietly and ask "comfortable there?", a nod from you and a half-mumbled "yeah.. very.." in response as you kept your eyes closed and felt soothed by the feeling of idle, soft touches.

Van´s body felt both soft and firm under you, a strength to her arms as she held you up that contrasted the tenderness she was offering you, so it took you a while before you managed to pull yourself away and fully wake up. it hit you then that she had been sitting up for a while already, so you propped yourself up on your elbows, looked up at her and asked "wait, how long have you been awake?".

Van shrugged and said "hm, like an hour maybe?".

"what? you´ve been waiting for me to wake up for an hour??", you felt a little guilty then but she smiled and cocked her head "well, it´s not like this is torture exactly, having a pretty girl laying on me." you were charmed and gave her a little nudge before you rubbed your eyes and stretched your limbs, as Van kept looking at you and reached out caress your sides, "youre a sweet sleeper you know" she mused.

"how so?" you asked, curious then. "I was half awake when you snuggled up to lay your head here" she pointed at the crook of her neck, "kinda like kitten" she added, to tease you a bit, which made you flush and shrug to brush it off, but she went on, a bit more earnest then, "I´m not used to that.. it felt nice". from her that counted as high praise, you could tell from the way she seemed kinda shy about having said it, so you leaned in closer and grinned, "oh really? you usually kick people out after?".

you were half joking but a look of guilt settle on Van´s face, you could basically see her cringe at some of the memories that your question had brought up, so you laughed and said "oh wow", kind of amused by the idea of her being the type to tell hook-ups to leave in the middle of the night. you moved to put your hands on her shoulders and look at her more closely, stunned by her face in the daylight, her freckles that you had only vaguely been aware of the night before, briefly too enamored to speak before you asked "so, are you regretting it now, that you broke that habit and let me stay?".

Van shook her head and gave you a sheepish smile, "oh no, no quite the opposite actually" while pulling you closer, her arms tight around your back as she kissed your neck and breathed in, started feeling you up a bit, turned on by the sweet, slightly disheveled look of you, the clear difference in your ages admittedly a turn-on for her, a rush of possessiveness as she felt you submit to her touch and thought "yeah she´s mine" even though you definitely weren´t, a content "hmmm" sound from you as you ran your fingers through her hair and let her have her way.

after she pulled back, she stared into your eyes, seemingly searching for something in your expression, and smiled as she asked "I have no idea why the fuck you agree to come here last night. are you sure you´re not having some kind of crisis and I am just taking advantage of it?". the way she phrased that made you laugh before you responded "oh sure, because there no way I could have found you hot otherwise", your eyes sparkling with amusement as she nodded, "yeah, thought so", a subtle smirk that gave away that she was having flashbacks of just how into her you´d been, the things you´d done for her, with her, to her, during the night, so you used the moment of warm silence to briefly snuggle up to her again and rest your head on her shoulder.

after a moment Van nudged you and said "you´re gonna fall asleep again, huh" not displeased by your unconcealed affection, but you protested "no, no I´m good" and sat upright then. "you hungry?" Van asked as she pulled the blanket off and moved to get up "yeah, pretty hungry actually" you admitted while getting out on the other side of the bed, "good, I´ll make you something nice, come, take whatever clothes you want" she told you as she pulled on a shirt and boxer shorts, while gesturing over at her closet, so you quickly opted for a soft oversized t-shirt and some thin cotton shorts, which made her glance over at you with a mix of endearment and lust, the unfamiliar sight of someone in her clothes stirring something deep within her, yet another aspect of romance that shed missed more than she cared to admit.

once you were in her living space again, you instinctively took a seat by the counter as she started rummaging around in the kitchen and told you to sit back and let her do the work, to be her guest, briefly checking for your preferences, how you took your coffee, if you were in the mood for something savory or sweet, if you needed some water or juice or both, taking pleasure in the unfamiliar act of serving her lover something to eat.

as she moved around the kitchen, you sat with your head leaning on your hand, watching her, which she would have shut down with a "you´re staring." if it had been anyone else, but with you, in that moment, the attention was invited, you could tell from the way she carried out certain movements that she was aware of you gaze and enjoying it, playing into it a bit, a silent erotic communication between you. "are you hungover at all?" she asked you, as she put some finishing touches on the two plates she was assorting for you, so you had to suppress a laugh as you eyed her and answered "hungover? from two drinks?...".

Van shot you a glare and waved you off, "forget it. enjoy this while it lasts, its not gonna be so funny when youre my age" flipping her hair over her shoulder before turning around and getting something else from the fridge. "I can only hope to look as good as you then" you told her in a purposely overly sweet tone, batting your eyelashes at her when she turned back around and gave you another critical look, trying her best not to appear flustered, the flush on her cheeks betraying her, "easy there." she warned you, without any true heat behind the words. "you´re trouble, huh" she said, more to herself than you, as she poured the coffee and saw how pleased with yourself you looked, sitting there, taking in the view of her growing a little hot from your unwavering attention, "me?" you asked, feigning innocence, to which she only said "yeah, you miss", smiling, both amused and a little frustrated how easy it was for you to get a rise out of her, after years of her considering herself stone-cold.

after she slid the finished plates over to where you were already sitting, she walked around to join you but stopped as she stood right behind you she paused, and without thinking she followed the instinct she felt then and slid her arms around your waist from behind, rested her head on your shoulder, shut her eyes for a second. you rested your hands over hers and soaked up the unexpected sudden tenderness, the way she audibly breathed out, almost as if some ancient weight was falling off from her shoulders, which perhaps was close to the truth, something about her touch tinged with a mix of gratitude and disbelief, as if she was making sure she hadn´t just dreamed you up.

after a few seconds of allowing herself to fully drop her walls, she pulled herself away and seemed a little shy afterwards as she took her place next to you and joined you in taking a first few bites, you just smiling to yourself instead of commenting on it.

for a few minutes you ate in relative silence, both of you only then realizing how starved the hours of fucking had left you, the morning sun casting the room in a soothing hue of gold, her hair even prettier then than the night before, glowing almost. you paused your eating to look at her from the side as she wiped a few crumbs from her mouth, absentmindedly pushed her hair back, seemed a little zoned out, which gave you the chance to shamelessly stare for a while, your gaze roaming over her, settling on her mid-thighs, where her plaid boxers had moved up a bit, revealing a decent amount of her leg, the faint freckles, which reminded you of how soft her skin had felt against yours, how sexy it was to you, that she had a certain delicate quality, something girl-ish almost in certain lights, fragile even, that opposed her tough vibe, her deep voice, her aura of "don´t mess with me".

you couldn´t help but reach out to caress her thigh, while saying "you look hot like this" tracing a line down her skin, which made her turn to you and say "likewise" in a low tone, as she gave you an equally appraising look and placed her hand over yours and kept it pressed against her leg for a beat longer, a shared pang of need detectable in both of your expressions then, an electricty as you looked eyes and saw your want mirror back to yourself. you both seemed to be getting flashbacks right then as you cleared your throat and removed your hand, trying to act casual, eating a bit more, while you were both left with tingling sensations all over your body where you´d felt the other´s hands and lips the night before, the sounds and taste of it coming back to you as well, the sensations that had banished all thoughts from your mind except one word, repeating, "more, more, more".

"we were pretty eager, huh..." Van said in a barely audible tone, which made you smile and say "yeah..", remembering how you had both moaned desperately just from kissing, how you´d already come close to finishing just from grinding up against each other before actually having sex, the neediness, the way you´d abandoned all pretense and let the other one see you in a state that could be considered undignified, considering the way you´d both begged each other to be taken, devoured. it had been unexpectedly intimate for a first time, it was palpable in the way you glanced at each other then and felt almost a little smug about how well you had fit together, physically, how hot the memories were to you.

you were both quietly getting turned on again, but you managed to keep it subtle for the time being, so you gestured at the empty plates and asked "so, if you dont let people stay usually, I´m assuming this is also not a common occurence?". Van nodded and leaned in a bit as she said "yes, correct, you cheated your way into this position, played some dirty tricks on me" a tap to your forearm, a hint of amusement to her demeanor when she saw the flicker of pride in your eyes, since you did love the idea of being an exception, having her in a way few others did, or even better, nobody else.

you could tell she was thinking of something then, so you nudged her and asked "what?" genuinely curious. "oh it´s just, it´s been a while since it felt the way it did last night..." she said, a little more earnest then, so your curiosity was peaked and you turned to face her more directly, your knee briefly brushing hers, another rush of warmth that you both felt at the same time. "how so?" you asked. she drummed her fingers on the counter and thought for a second before explaining "this might sound a bit corny but I usually feel like people aren´t really seeing me, like they see a role I could play for them, if that makes sense? and sometimes that can be fun or whatever, playing the part, I am fine with that, I sought it out, but with you... I don´t know. you paid attention in a way that felt kinda intense, like you were actually trying to understand me.. you were sweet, hard to describe, but I missed that, feeling like I might like to be friends with the person I am seeing"

you understood what she meant and it flattered you, the way she´d put that, so you made as sound of agreement and said "yeah, it felt natural, easy", "exactly yes" Van affirmed, looking up at you again then, a warm smile before she added "and you know, it also helped that youre fucking hot." she briefly caressed your cheek when she saw the subtle bashfulness she´d elicited with that comment, it came out of nowhere and left her feeling exposed in her affection for you, but the way you leaned into her palm killed any instinct to reel it back in. you returned the energy by leaning over and giving her a lingering kiss, your hand on her neck, remaining only a few inches from her face when you told her "I wouldn´t have been able to tell that youre not used to all this if you hadn´t told me" which you meant, she was far from unromantic and detached with you, which didn´t match her own description of herself, the way she usually went about intimacy, so she grinned and ran her hands down your back as she whispered "well, I had some practice earlier in life".

you nodded and took in her features from up close, her pink lips, her freckled nose, the deep blue of her eyes and said "right. broke some hearts, didn´t you?", which made her laugh and shrug "maybe. got mine shattered too though, so, balances out" you could detect a truth in there, which made you wonder what exactly that heartbreak had entailed, how her life had looked, a sudden need to know much more about this woman you´d so randomly come to feel deeply connected to just within a night. "god that just made me sound old as fuck huh" she sighed and shook her head while taking the dirty dishes over the sink, which made you laugh and play along with it by saying "maybe".

since breakfast was over, you were both eager to be more comfortable again and moved to the couch, where she urged you to lay your legs over her lap, instead of sitting there all polite with them crossed, her hands immediately settling on your knees, rubbing up and down a little. Van was stunned by how easy it was for her to slip back into the physicality she had had with girlfriends, people she´d actually cared for, she realized how good it felt to just lounge around with a lover, that it came naturally to her, that her fears of it had been unjustified, it was a hard truth to accept for her but as you got comfortable with your legs sprawled out over her, she couldn´t deny that in her heart, she´d been longing for it, a girl to call her own again.

"so. are you counting down the minutes until you can leave?" she joked, which amused you, considering just how obviously you were enjoying yourself in that position, so you joked back and said "oh sure, I am clearly dying to run off". "but on a real note, do you want a ride home when you go? Id be happy to drive you home", she asked, and you appreciated the offer but the feel of her hands on you made it hard to accept it, you wanted nothing less than to leave but you also didnt wanna impose, so you tentatively said "well... I mean I don´t really need to be anywhere today, so.." hoping she´d catch on to the subtext there, which she did, charmed by your hesitation, the nervousness that contrasted the boldness you´d already shown her, a mix that she liked, kept her intrigued. "ah, I see, do you maybe wanna stay for a bit longer then?" she suggested, before she could talk herself into sabbotaging this fresh, strangely enjoyable romance shed stumbled into without even realizing at first the night before.

"yes" you said, a bit too fast, eager to accept the offer, sensing that she was also glad to have a bit more time with you, so you pushed your luck a bit and added "I mean, not to be clingy but if you want I could get some of my stuff later and stay another night? I liked sleeping with you.." you meant the actual act of sleeping, but the double meaning was also true, so you didn´t correct yourself when you realized how that had come out. Van smiled and nodded, her hands still on your legs, squeezing lightly, "yeah, me too. and you could also just use my things and not leave at all".

you shared a look of fondness as you both realized that you weren´t alone in your need to stay together for the time being, "yeah, let´s do it that way" you agreed. "but be warned" Van said, lowering her voice for dramatic effect, "you might get really fucking tired of me in like two hours. I am sure you´re used to company that´s more.. well, like you". you leaned in a bit, "like me?", Van pulled you even closer then, grabbed your arm and grinned and as she finished her thought "oh you know, young, fun, dazzling" clearly messing with you, laying it on thick, but a genuine compliment hidden in there, which made you lean closer too and brush a strand of hair out of her face as you smiled, "I´ll manage, and who knows, maybe some of it will rub off on you" teasing her a little, running your hand down her side, leaving it to rest on her waist.

"god willing" she whispered and used her strength to pull you up against her for good, sighing "come here" as she felt you adjust your position and climb half on top of her, your thighs pressing down against hers. it took her only a second to pull you in for a proper kiss, the kind you hadn´t shared yet that morning, a shared sigh as you started making out, slowly, drawing each kiss out, her hands under your shirt, yours on her neck, her taste both sweet and still lightly bitter from the coffee, faint whimpering sounds from her when you grew hungry and licked over her bottom lip, felt for her tongue with yours, felt her surrender to it, her mouth open, a sloppiness to your kisses that made it hard not to wanna do more, so once you felt yourselves growing a bit too hot too fast, you pulled back to breathe, to ground yourselves, hands still gripping each other´s shirts tightly.

you smiled at her, pleased by the sight of her flushed face, her glistening lips, and said "you´re kinda selfish you know". Van was still dazed from before but snapped out of it to respond "huh??", the offense in her tone making you laugh as you played with her hair, "all of this, so much space up here and you never let lovers stay".

"well, I am not great company usually, so, did them a favor" she uttered, her fingers tracing patterns on your back. "so, you work alone downstairs all day and then spend the nights up here alone too?", "yeah pretty much..." she admitted, aware that she lived a kind of hermit lifestyle. "how have you not lost your mind?" you asked, half-joking, which made her grin, a flicker of mischief, "who says I haven´t?" staring into your eyes as she said it.

"right, sure" you said, amused by her quick wit, acutely aware of the heat where your skin was still pressing down against hers, a subtle heat growing where only some very thin fabric was keeping you from feeling her the way you wanted to, a light shit of your position that didn´t escape her, that made her push her thigh up a bit to fuck with you, to hear the sigh you inevitably let out. "yeah don´t say I didn´t warn you later on" she whispered. "warn me? I think I can handle a middle aged loner" you retorted and pushed your hands into her hair, not very gently, payback, aware that it made her weak to be handled like that. "you don´t know the half of it, lady" she said while smiling up at you, not backing down, so you moved one of your hands to her face, tracing her scars with your index finger while asking "oh yeah? something to do with this maybe?".

"maybe" Van echoed, smug, watching you briefly get lost in the act of closely inspecting the red lines that graced her pretty face, pleased by the way she could see the wheels turn behind your eyes. in a way that was perhaps a bit twisted, it did turn her on, to know that you had no idea that she had once been feral, that she had hunted and eaten people before, that she had a capacity for animalistic behavior that surpassed what you were assuming right then, mostly because something told her that you might be the kind of girl who wouldn´t just be shocked but also a little into it, the idea of her being capable of things like that, she´d just known you for a night, but she was nearly certain that the reaction she could get out of you would be priceless.

"tell me then, what dark secret are you keeping?" you asked her, your nose almost brushing hers from how close you were, her breath hot against your lips as she shook her head "lets maybe go on a date first before I spill that to you, hm". "this isn´t a date?" you asked, feigning ignorance, pretending to be a little disappointed, so she laughed "no, this is what you´d call a hookup, sorry to say sweetie" a faux act of consolation then, a few light slaps to your upper thigh. "but" she added "we can turn it into a date". you moved a bit then, to sit next to her again instead of on her, your hand reaching for hers, unwilling to let go of her. "when´s the last time you´ve been on one? do you remember how to behave?" you teased, which earned you a shove in the side "very funny, yes I do recall".

"okay, what do you wanna do today then, hm?" you asked, elbow propped up on the couch to look at her while resting your head against your arm. "oh lets see" she said, while tilting her head back for a second, looking at the ceiling as she felt her fingers laced through yours and thought about it. "we could enjoy the sun, walk around for a bit, go to this nice cafe I know for lunch, its really fucking good" you nodded, more than happy to spend your day like that, but before you could say anything about it, she beat you to it by moving closer to you, snaking her arm around your waist, and saying "but before all that... I think we should go back to bed for a while" an authority, a determination to he tone then that made your face feel hot under her unyielding gaze. "yeah, agree..." you said and pushed her back against the couch cushion to grope her, out of nowhere, a self-satisfied grin when you heard her groan "fuck" from the feel of your fingers digging into her chest over her shirt, "you´re so sensitive" you teased, not letting up, kissing her cheek as she grew needier by the second, "yeah and you´re relentless" she uttered, briefly submitting to your force before she used the position she was in to move her hand down your shorts, only to tease, but the second she brushed over you, the whine you let out told her: keep going. she wants more.

so she held you close as she used the other hand to tease you, not fully jerking you off, but playing with you, moving her fingertips up and down, feeling some of the wetness that had gathered, using it to press down against your clit and draw achingly slow circles as you clung to her, eyes shut, hips jerking a bit to meet her hand, nodding, your lips parted as you sighed "please dont stop..". Van took the chance to kiss your neck, to have you fully melt against her, her fingers adding some more pressure as you grew soaked for her and tilted your head to the side to let her kiss all the way up to your jaw, faint sighs as she breathed in your scent, got high on the feeling of having you that pliant and soft for her, so receptive, whispering sweet things to you as it took you no time at all to feel a climax go through you, less intense than the ones you´d had the night before, but still, enough to leave you weak and wanting more, much more. her fingers were still on you, drawing out some last few jolts of pleasure, as you leaned in to her ear and sighed "I wanna feel you... I wanna feel you come against me..".

"jesus..." Van groaned at the thought, since that was another thing that she´d stopped allowing herself, anything like tribbing was off the table with hookups, since she knew how much she enjoyed it when she was really into someone, how sensitive to that sensation she was, how easily it could turn her into a whimpering mess, but she couldn´t deny you, not then, not while still feeling your mess all over her fingers and already growing wet herself from the thought of having your cunt pressed up against hers, for a torturous amount of time, she wanted it to hurt, to be too much almost, so she nodded, her voice cracked with lust as she said "yeah.. yeah okay, come", pulling you up from the couch to have fantasy become reality as fast as possible.

you both quickly undressed and settled back into her bed, her sitting back against the pillows as you tried to find the best angle and moved her leg up to put yours under it, adjusting your hips until you both moaned in agreement when you found the right spot. you were both turned on enough to a point where you didn´t need spit or lube to make yourselves slick enough, your arousals mixing as you started grinding down against her and saw her shut her eyes, trying her best not to sound pathetic, while already feeling like she might lose her mind just from watching you move against her like that, hearing you whimper from it, since it felt even better than expected, an intensity to the feeling of your cunts almost making out in a way that left you weak in the most maddening way.

Van was happy to just sit there and grab your waist in support as you trapped her in a way, made her submit to your pace, the way you rubbed yourself up against her, that delicious sense of helplessness that she had always craved in bed, which you could tell from the way she shook and uttered broken up phrases between her moans like "god.. don’t stop..." and "so fucking pretty...", watching you in awe as you purposely drew it out and waited until she was close to finishing to join her and feel your orgasms hit you at the same time, eyes locked as you rode it out and were both left wrecked and breathless from it.

after you moved down from her, you could tell that she was still somewhat riled up, so you touched her where she was slicked up from both your and her own cum, moved your head down to lick over her chest and suck on one of her tits, as you felt her hold your head in place, almost as if to prevent you from stopping, to make you keep her sensitive flesh in your mouth, and drew out another high, a follow-up one that was less intense but just a needed extra release, a pleased smiled on her face after you finally moved away and laid down next to her, a barely audible "fucking hell…" that made you feel a rush of pride.

after a minute of satisfied silence, you both turned to look at each other from the side and mirrored the action of tracing each others outline, your leg draped over hers, a the room warm and quiet, the morning sun casting long shadows on the floor, over your figures.

Van was the first to speak again, "thank god you were reckless enough to come to some strangers house without even facetiming or calling before. that was kinda risky you know.." a hint of respect in there for how bold you´d been.

you smiled and answered "well. it paid off. and I am done with all that for now, so, no danger there". Van´s eyes lit up when she registered the subtext there and inquired "oh yeah?" to hear it confirmed, that you wanted to keep seeing her, only her. "yeah" you whispered and caressed her arm, "me too" she said, relieved that the days of meeting strangers for meaningless sex might just be coming to an end, that she was entering a new era, that romance was slowly entering her life again, the doors to it opened by your hands.

there was a deep sense of ease in the air then, neither of you were able to stop smiling from it, you didn´t have to say a thing to know what the other was thinking:

this is only the very beginning. I can´t wait to get to know you. all of you.

[hanniescookie]

too many hobbies - YJH

pairing - jeonghan x f!reader

genre - domestic au, fluff

warnings - use of pet names (baby for reader, hannie for jh), kissing, pure fluff, mentions of mild insecurities, and uhm yeah that's it ig

summary - everyone around you seems to be soaring, traveling and building perfect lives while you're surrounded by the love of your many hobbies that leaves you feeling a little confused at times. luckily, jeonghan is there to not let you feel insecure.

author's note - second fic and i'm sooo nervous even though i've been writing for 7 years already 😭 anyway, this is for the bbangi to my shingi @kissbyoon / baby you deserve all the love 🤍 i'm ltr sharing jeonghan w you so like gimme some love 😔☝🏻

-------------------------**~~**--------------------------

You slump tiredly into your couch for the first time in a while, closing your eyes as the setting sun reflects on your face from the large window. It's not everyday that your energy goes down, but inevitably, there are days like today when you want to isolate yourself from the world just a little bit.

The living room of your apartment is still messy with all the stuff — papers, scissors, crayons, and stationary of all sort — that you were using to make your boyfriend a gift card.

Your eyes scan all the stuff, and most importantly, the pretty purple and white gift card you completed before leaving for the dance studio. It looks meaningless now, not even slightly pretty to your eyes.

All you can think about is how your dance colleagues talked about their life plans a while ago – how their words sent you in a spiral of uncertainty about your own life.

"You all, please pray I pass the audition. Not for another second am I going to waste my time here!"

"You will! Trust yourself. I thought I was going nowhere until I got my job."

"But I have come to terms with the fact that dancing here won't get me anywhere, I'm probably gonna make use of my degree and apply at the law firm."

"Well of course, I just can't sit with my hobby for a lifetime. I'm pushing my age already, so I'm hoping for my promotion."

It isn't like you to ponder over words, but this conversation did make you feel overwhelmed. Maybe you are being sensitive, but seeing everyone else talk about their sorted life makes this mess in your living room a lot suffocating than it is.

You reach out, holding the gift card in your hands and staring at it for a while. It speaks ugly words to you — pointing fingers at you and calling you a loser.

Your fingers involuntarily curl into it, almost about to rip it apart when a pretty voice breaks your reverie.

"Oh my baby!!! Did you make that for me? Show me!"

Jeonghan appears beside you out of nowhere, making you blink at him in surprise as the card is nearly snatched from your hand. The awe on his face makes your heart soften. He reads the card — all silly little messages you had scribbled in there — his contagious smile broadening on his face.

Before you can say anything, he has wrapped you in his arms, squishing you into his large frame. "Why are you soooo sweet? What if I cry?"

You end up smiling against his chest, wrapping your arms around him with a sigh. He has managed to wash away any negative emotions you were facing a while ago so easily. "We all know you're not gonna cry that easily, hannie."

He pulls away just enough to meet your eyes, a constant smile plastered on his lips. "I appreciate that you know me well, but I fear you're not entirely aware of how much I love these little things you do."

Something in your chest flutters as your smile dims slightly, staring at this loveable man and his comforting existence. He didn't even need to give you a whole speech about how it's good that you're on your own pace, and you're doing great in life (he can provide you with words of affirmation if needed) yet you're already feeling like none of people's words matter. Because you're reminded of the fact that you're indeed exactly where you're meant to be, and you'll be where you're meant to be in the future too.

You press a feather-light kiss to his nose, "What little things?"

He grins, returning the gesture with a more firm kiss than yours. "These little gifts you make me. But that's not all I love about you, you know? I love all that you do. Your dance, your impromptu shower singing, those stories you write in your laptop — I love all of it. Never quit on any of your hobbies. They make you, you."

It isn't like you to cry easily as well, but when you feel the sight of your pretty boyfriend blurring a little, you know you have tears in your eyes. He furrows his brows, instant concern spreading all over his features.

His hand cups your cheek softly. "Baby? What's wrong? Did I say something wrong?"

You sniff, and close your eyes for a second so the tear residing there falls past your cheek. Then you shake your head. "Never." You breathe. "You can never say anything wrong, hannie. In fact, you only ever say everything right. Everything to make me feel special."

He doesn't seem convinced given that he still doesn't smile. He just continues to look at you, trying to detect signs of distress. "Baby—"

You giggle a little, moving to wrap your arms around his neck. "Don't worry. I just got a little emotional because of what you said. I'm fine."

"You sure?"

You nod, feeling his thumb wipe at the lone tear that had fallen before he finally breaks into his signature teasing grin. "Who's the one easily crying now?"

You roll your eyes despite the smile on your face, "Stop being so cocky."

"You love it." He grins, kissing you briefly because he couldn't resist it. You hum, and chase his lips the moment he pulls away. He wants to tease, but right now he's going to give you what you want so he smiles and kisses you back.

If it's with Jeonghan and his gravitational comfort, you know you'll get everywhere you want to be in life.

[xfhsfh]

Here lemme put my conspiracy theory tinfoil hat for a second but I do believe that there is a real downgrade in writing competency, (at least in the movie industry which is the one I know about).

You see writing is an art yes, but also very much a craft, and you can't get good at writing unless you write a lot. That's how you get better. That's how you turn theory of writing into "feeling" of writing. How you don't just apply narratives schemes and structures, but can tell by reading and writing what a story lacks, what a story needs and how to get there. How to turn an idea into a story worth reading, or watching.

The same way that a cook can tell what a meal needs just by watching the consitency of a sauce, or by tasting and knowing what spices to add, how much salt to put without even measuring it.

And you get to that point by working on your craft. There are no cutting corners, even if you're talented or clever or know every classics by heart. At one point if you want to get good at writing you just have to write, again and again, the same way that a cook needs to make tens and tens of dishes to understand how all the ingredients work together.

And I won't say that it was easy to live off writing 20 or 30 years ago but it was definitely easier.

You could still make ends meet as a rookie writer 20 years ago or more. You could still have access to outlets that would pay you for your craft, even if it was a local newspaper or a short story magazine.

But those outlets have more or less disappeared. And the standards of quality for writing an article are completely at odds with writing a good or effective article. Now you have to write something that have to follow the guidelines that the advertisers requires because they want your article to be a jumping pad towards their products. What you have to do is to disguise the ad well enough so that the unsuspecting reader won't realise they're being advertised to...

Also given that most writing teams or newspaper offices have largely reduced in numbers and that teleworking is a thing now, you are way less likely to actually meet experienced writers that you can observe, talk with, share with. Or just writers with different life experience.

And I'm not saying that to say that contemporary writers should emulate older ones, but there is a virtue in watching how a seasonned writer of 20, 30 plus experience work. Just by virtue of comparing their craft to yours it adds a tremendous value to your work ethic, even if the result is you considering that their methods of working are stupid.

Being able to meet and work with different people of the same craft is a key element of an industry ecosystem. Because transmission of knowledge and actually working on your craft are the two legs on which an industry can carry on.

But I won't surprise a lot of people by pointing out the fact that durong those two decades, fragmenting work forces, and slashing salaries has been the norm in the entertainement industry (and so many other industries).

The liberals that managed to access position of power and decision-making don't give a fuck about work ethic. I'm pretty sure that the simple evocation of the word make them laugh.

(Here I'm talking about liberals as economic liberals, not the political left of the US, alright?)

Given that the profile of those people is usually people coming out of business schools, finance, communication or advertising, the idea of creating a healthy creative ecosystem for the industry at large is completely alien to that kind of person because the rules and experience lived by someone coming from the business sector is fondamentally different from someone coming from the entertainement industry.

To say it in short they don't understand what makes a good writing, they don't care about what makes a good writer, they don't even necesserally care about hiring a good writer because they don't see writing (or many artistic jobs) as an art, or a craft, but as a service they can pay for, to obtain a product they can in term sell.

It's basically the same logic used by the corporations that cut a forest to the ground to sell the wood. The appeal of a forest come from centuries of slow growing, of thousands of intertwined elements, all linked to each other and moving together in complex ways. When you cut a tree down you down just cut a tree but you severe all the links it has created with all the elements of the ecosystem around it. And a workforce works basically the same way. No worker is an island, no industry works sollely on its core principles, the complexity of an intertwined ecosystem exists also in the humans societies.

Basically they don't care about the health of a work force because they can't see it, it is alien to them. So they fire and burn-out experienced writers/workers because their salaries cost too much and that's how they were taught to do, to reduce the bottom line. They exploit rookie workers because they know they can get away with it and that's how they were taught to do. What's a 20 something working their first dream job going to do? Sue you?

They don't care about the ecosystem, they don't care about the forest, they just want the wood.

So we arrive at a point where the forest has been cut to the ground and when you want to see a tree it's a frail one, connected to nothing but ashes and dirt. And it will take decades, centuries before we can see a forest somewhat ressembling the one that was there before.

So we arrive at a point where you can go see a multi-million dollars movie, a blockbuster, with crude storytelling, appalling writing and dialogues consisting of tired clichés and repetitions. Because it is written by inexperienced writers, because they live at a time where working on honning your craft as a writer is more difficult than ever.

Even for those who actually want to find good writters and make great art it is way more difficult because the industry has been broken.

An industry that cannot retain it's skilled and experienced workers and that exploit the rookie ones to the bone is bound to decrease in quality and craftmanship, and that's the least of its offence because this decrease is written with broken lives.

And it's not only relevant for the movie industry either, enshitification affect a variety of industries, even the highly skilled industries like high-tech or the luxury industry. It is well know that the fabric that the luxury clothes are made from has decreased in quality, that some ancient manufacturing process have just disappeared for a lack of transmission of knowledge, or because it was too long, too costly, too difficult...

It fucking sucks

the exponential decline of the "mass market kids movie" needs to be put under a microscope. there was a point where you could rely on even the mediocre filler movies at least making sense on a basic directional emotional level, now you can't even reliably get that from pixar. i don't know why any scene happens in elemental, it is so fucked up, it feels almost postmodern

[littlestl4mb]

you should make a little blurb about jealous lu!

PS: I love your work you are so cutesie

thank you dear anon!!!! i will put this under the cut because i kinda wrote more than i meant to lol oops

okay so i was thinking about this heavily. at first i thought hmmm luigi doesn’t strike me as the jealous type idk… he’s so intelligent and he’s an engineer so like… you know that mf is as logical and solution-oriented as they come. for better or worse. but then... i thought about it again and i went no YEAH lu definitely gets jealous... i think college lu FOR SURE would. and it drives him mad bc he knows his jealousy is stupid. it’s a foolish feeling, he probably thinks. yet one he can’t shake himself free from. especially when you’re first seeing each other but it’s not completely exclusive yet. when things between you are casual because you’re just getting to know each other?? yeahhhh his brain is going wild 24/7. he can’t stop thinking about you. he can’t stomach the idea of you spending your time with another person that isn’t him. he hates it too because he just knows he’s being too obsessive, that he’s being way too much. he has a lot of self awareness— he knows how to rationalize his heart with his head. but… he can’t stop the compulsive bitterness he feels towards anyone that shows you any sign of affection!!! the hormones just go crazy in that man’s head. he tries to keep a cap on most of his feelings, but when it comes to you it’s nearly impossible. and it only drives him more mad because he’s soooo aware of his jealousy and how futile such a feeling is, but he literally cannot save himself from it. 

he sees you walking down the sidewalk with some guy, and he hates the way his stomach drops. he acknowledges the fact that he has no autonomy over who you see or hang out with, and still he can’t stand it. loathes it. feels so powerless to an emotion that is eating him alive inside and out. the worst part is he kind of knows the guy you’re walking with too. not very well but enough. the kid isn’t even that bad— has exchanged some kind words with luigi before in passing. but all it takes is for the guy to be in the place that luigi has self righteously already claimed as his in his head, and now luigi fucking detests the guy. 

he rants about it to his friends the moment he sees them, “i just don’t fucking get it. the guy has no hobbies. he can’t write. have you seen the books he chooses to read around campus? horrible taste. i don’t see what she sees in him.” — and all his friends are telling him he needs to cool it because it’s out of his control. 

don’t worry though, luigi does not believe in cooling it. in fact, he calls you up on the phone and leaves you a 3 minute long voicemail. he’s not afraid to say how he feels so he lets it all out. he’s telling you how “you’re wasting your time with whatever-his-name-is.” says something like, “does he even do anything? i mean it. does he? at least i started the video game development club.” 

luigi is going OFF in his little voicemail. you listen to the full thing when you’re out of class, generally surprised by how out of the blue it is. the thing is, you didn’t even see luigi earlier when he evidently saw you. he must’ve spotted you and then slipped out of sight immediately.

you have another class to attend to, and not enough time to deal with whatever melt down the man is having. so all you can text him is ‘luigi, he was walking out of class with me and we were talking because we just got put together for a group project.’ it’s the truth too, there wasn’t anything nefarious going on between you two. 

of course, luigi calls you right away. you can’t pick up, but that doesn’t stop him from calling about 5 more times. when he finally sees you later, he probably stands by his word. he’s got too much pride to admit his wrong doing. or the fact that he jumped to conclusions so fast. 

…and then i think once you’re in a proper relationship, the way in which luigi gets jealous shifts. it’s not so much over the simple and stupid stuff. not the silly little things that you get jealous of when you’re young and think you’re the center of the world. when you’re finally exclusive with each other, he has no insecurities that you’re all about him. but … he is a taurus man and every taurus man i’ve ever known is jealous in the most covert way. and in my experience it’s in a very specific way too?? which i would call the “i have to know i’m important in your life” kind of way. 

it’s not so much about being jealous of you hanging out with others. no, in fact he likes that you have your own ways about you and you’re independent. but there’s still a part of him that needs the reassurance that he’s very much important to you. i hope this is making sense. like, he wants to know when you think of him, and he wants you to admit when you’ve missed him. he’d straight up tell you this too. “can you just admit when you think of me? i can’t just know it. i have to hear it in person from you.” 

also, i think he’d have this strange kind of possessive jealousy, where he has to know you through and THROUGH. he has a need to know you as much as humanly possible. he needs to be closer to you than anyone else. he gets jealous and bitter at the thought of others knowing you better than he does.

he’s observant, yes, and knows you that way. but he likes hearing you talk about everything and anything too, so that he can understand you more than anyone else ever has. he needs to know the memory you have of being a little girl and walking down the street, and how the people and buildings were just so tall. something so mundane that you never bothered telling anyone else, he has to have that knowledge like it's a drink of water when he's been walking through the desert for months. and i’m telling you right now— that man wants to know the block you grew up on. he wants to go there by himself and walk down it. he tries to see what you saw as a little girl, wants to see things how you saw them when you were young. thinks that if he does that, he can fathom your thoughts a little better. maybe be able to think your own thoughts himself— that he might know you so well that he becomes a part of you. 

[e-dubbc11]

Such a Flirt

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F! Hunter Reader; supporting character Sam Winchester

Warnings: SMUT! (18+ please or I’m telling on you) fingering, oral, p in v protected sex (be safe out there everyone), couple of swear words, love confessions

Word Count: 3.3K-ish

Summary: Dean and Sam ask for your help getting information from a bartender at a local bar. You’re a smooth talker and can get info from anyone but Dean hates having to watch you flirt with handsome men.

A/N: Fair warning, there’s only a little plot with this one. I really just wanted to get to the smexy time. I had the strongest urge to write some smut for this smexy son of a bitch, I don’t know why but I’m just very much in love with all things Jensen Ackles right now(I’ve watched Tracker, My Bloody Valentine, and started watching season 3 of the Boys again plus random episodes of Supernatural) I can’t wait to meet him in October! I hope you like this one!

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

“Dude, why are you grinding your teeth like that?” Asked Sam.

Dean’s eyes were fixated on you as you flirted with the bartender. You were trying to see if he knew anything about a man who was in the bar a couple of days ago.

Later, the man couldn’t explain why he had beaten his girlfriend to death after being seen in the bar with a beautiful woman who was definitely NOT his girlfriend.

“Does she have to flirt so hard with that guy?!” Growled Dean. “He’s not even that good looking!”

Dean angrily took a sip of his beer and continued to watch you like a hawk.

Sam rolled his eyes, pressed his lips together in a straight line and tried to continue talking about the case with Dean but he was more interested in what you were saying to the bartender.

“She’s trying to get information for us, Dean. Relax.” Said Sam.

The boys didn’t always need a third “FBI agent.” Sometimes they just needed help getting information from the opposite sex. Men were a lot freer with their words with you rather than the “feds.”

You mostly hunted on your own but they would call you from time to time when they needed your…”wits,” so to speak. Plus, you liked to watch Dean struggle with his feelings for you and you very much liked him back but it was fun to make him jealous.

**********

Before leaving the bunker, you had asked, “What kinda bar is it?”

“What do you mean what kind? It’s a bar, y/n.” Answered Dean.

“Ok, I realize that, Dean but is it a biker bar, a country western bar, one that doesn’t have a theme? I need to know what kinda clothes to bring. I threw a whole bunch in my car, I’ll bring the one outfit I need, and pick up the rest back here before I head home.” You replied.

Sam was already on his laptop doing research so he did a quick search and found the bar’s website online.

“Looks like it’s quite the nice place, y/n. Reviews say it’s an after work hot spot for bankers, real estate brokers, professionals, etc.” Said Sam.

You replied, “Soooooo a little swanky, but don’t dress like a high end call girl, got it. You guys will fit in perfectly wearing your FED suits.”

You decided to go for the “classy attorney” look but without a blazer. A Kelly green fitted silk blouse, black wide-leg pants that had black studs on the seam, and black ankle boots. Your perfectly chosen outfit, paired with a black structured tote bag seemed like impeccable choices.

Eat your heart out, Dean Winchester.

While they were out eating lunch, you did your hair and makeup. You didn’t do this super girly stuff very often but you liked…feeling pretty. The times that the boys needed you to turn on the charm and bat your long lashes to get information, were really fun for you.

Drawing on your black winged eyeliner after having a little too much coffee proved to be difficult sometimes but you were a professional and could probably do it with your eyes closed if you needed to.

A medium tone matte eyeshadow and a bold lip completed the look while a strobe light like highlighter emphasized the high points of your face.

Satisfied with your look, you watched a little tv before changing clothes. They would be back soon to pick you up for drinks after they talked to the local cops.

While in the bathroom, you heard the door open and Dean called out to you.

“Y/n?! You better be ready; we gotta go!” Said Dean.

You emerged from the bathroom fully dressed with the exception of your shoes.

“Ok, ok keep your shirt on, Winchester. I just need my boots.” You replied.

After slipping into your boots, you picked up your bag and finally had a chance to look up. For once, Dean’s brow wasn’t furrowed and you could see his hypnotizing green eyes much better which caught you off guard.

“What is it? Do I have something on my pants?” You said, gazing down at your pants then turning in a circle with your head over your shoulder, trying to look at your own ass.

Dean was speechless and couldn’t get any words out so Sam answered as he tossed a burger at you, “Nope, all good. Let’s go. You can eat in the car.”

They walked up ahead as you locked the door behind you.

“Dude, what is wrong with you? You were staring at her.” Said Sam.

Dean replied, “She looks too good, Sam.”

“Can you wrestle with your feelings for her another time? She’s supposed to look nice.” Sam said.

Nervously, Dean whispered, “Well she’s distracting! And I don’t have THOSE kinds of feelings for her.”

“Whatever you say, dude.” Replied Sam with raised eyebrows.

You covered your mouth so they wouldn’t see you crack a smile.

While riding in the car, you leaned forward so the boys could hear you better. Making sure he could feel your breath on his ear, you said, “You two can go in first, have a seat, and I’ll make my way in after a few minutes. You can keep an eye on me as I walk up to the bar.”

A sly smirk stretched across your lips as you slinked back into your seat and looked at Dean in the rearview mirror, trying his hardest NOT to appear flustered but failing miserably.

You could have made it easy and told Dean how you felt about him but he deserved to be on the receiving end of the teasing. Women made it easy for him, just falling at his feet which meant he had his pick and he hated every time you teased him.

And now, drinking at the corner of the bar, you could feel him burning a hole in your head with his angry stare. It appeared that Dean couldn’t take just sitting there anymore. Sam tried to grab hold of his jacket but he missed and Dean started to walk over to the bar when the bartender walked away to wait on someone else.

“I’m getting some good stuff, Dean. Get outta here!” You whisper yelled at him without looking and without drawing attention to yourself.

He nonchalantly whisper yelled back at you, “You’re being a little TOO friendly with him, don’t ya think?”

“I’m perfectly capable of weaseling information out of a dumb bartender. Now get outta here before I kick your ass all over this bar!” You growled.

“Need something, friend?” The bartender asked Dean.

A tad flustered, Dean replied with a narrowed expression, “Two more beers, buddy. Thanks.”

You got what you needed from the bartender and after another hour or so, you paid for your drinks and left. Dean and Sam followed you out a handful of minutes later.

“Can we get pizza?” You asked.

Dean was always in a better mood if he was fed properly so as a peace offering, you bought pizza on the way back to the motel. And of course, Dean picked up more beer.

Settling in with your dinner, you told them everything Jeremy, the bartender, told you about what he witnessed.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, I didn’t know the two of you were on a first name basis.” Said Dean.

You rolled your eyes.

“Will you let me finish, please!?” You asked.

“Dean…let her finish. Come on.” Said Sam.

Dean continued to pace back and forth while you talked.

“…So the woman that he left with, Jeremy had never seen before. And this guy hung on her every word, gazed at her like she hung the moon, she said all the right things. Almost like he was legit under a spell or something.” You finished.

Sam had his laptop open. His fingers swiftly typed words into the search engine and he then flipped the screen around to show you and Dean what he found.

“I think we might be dealing with another siren.” Said Sam, confidently. “Two other women were murdered by husbands or boyfriends after encounters with beautiful women at that bar. Sirens need love and they compel people to kill to show devotion to them.” He turned to Dean. “Remember that one we dealt with before? The time where we were trying to kill each other?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, I remember. I try not to though.”

Preoccupied with Dean’s eyes, they had darkened a little to match better with the green shirt you had on, you covered your infatuation by pushing the chair across from you out from under the table.

“Take a load off, tiger. You’re makin’ me nervous with all this pacin’ around you’re doin’.” You said in between bites of pizza.

The Winchester brothers were your second family and you knew them well, especially Dean so you knew when something was really bothering him. And right now, something was definitely bothering him.

Sam’s face was buried in his laptop, it was quiet in the room except for the sounds of fingers moving across a keyboard, and the tension in the room was so thick, you could cut it with a knife. Something about you being there was keeping Dean on edge so you finally decided to break the silence.

“Dean? Come on. What is it? You’re being extra grouchy right now, so grouchy that pizza couldn’t fix it. Ever since I walked outta the bathroom earlier, you’ve been short with me.” You said, calmly.

He pressed the palm of his hand to his forehead and traced the outside of his lips with his thumb and forefinger before narrowing his eyes at you.

You knew that look. The look of an extremely handsome literal green-eyed monster glaring at you from across the table. Dean was close to blowing a gasket.

He pointed at you and in his low gravelly voice said, “I don’t like it when you flirt with other men. There! I said it, ok!? You happy!?”

In one fluid motion, Sam closed his laptop, grabbed the keys to the car and said, “I’m gonna go talk to the cops again. Lemme know when you two work THIS out.”

You started to say, “O-ok, well just be—“

“Yep, I’ll be careful. I know what to look for. I’ll see ya guys later.” Said Sam.

The door closed behind him, the Impala roared to life, and Sam drove off, leaving you and Dean alone in the motel room.

“Well that was weird. Anyway…Dean, I’m just doing what you guys asked me to do! You needed me to get information, so I turned on my charm and I got what we needed just like any other time you’ve needed me for something like this!” You said with a raised voice.

Dean stood up from the table and loosened his tie a little. Unbuttoning the top button on his dress shirt, he didn’t take his gaze away from you.

“You don’t have to be THAT good, ya know! They eat it up every single time! Lemme ask you this…did that Jeremy guy ask for your number?”

Seeing Dean this upset made you think that he didn’t just have a little crush on you.

Feeling a little warm, you unbuttoned a couple of buttons on your blouse and stood up also. You were reluctant to answer him but finally said softly, “Yes, he did.”

“HA! I fuckin’ knew it! They always do and did you give it to him?” Asked Dean.

You started to answer before he interrupted you, “Dean…”

“Did you!?” He asked again.

Not wanting to confess your feelings first, you tried to stall.

“No, I didn’t!” You shouted.

The table was in between the two of you. Both of you were breathing heavily, your jawlines tight with anger and frustration, and the sound of your heart beating inside your chest was deafening.

“Oh yeah?! And why should I believe you, y/n?!” Dean growled.

“I’ve never given any of them my number, Dean! Not a single one!” You bellowed.

His expression softened as he asked, “Well…why not?”

After a long day, you couldn’t help but collapse onto the bed. You allowed your legs to give out and sat down on the edge of the mattress before answering him.

“Why do you think, ya big dumb animal?! Because the only guy's number I want in my phone is yours, Dean! And Sam’s but for different reasons. You know what I’m trying to say, stop looking at me like that.” You said, nervously.

He walked around the table, gazed down at you with his beautiful green eyes, they were the color of fresh blades of grass, and leaned over to inch his face closer to yours. The sprinkling of freckles across his nose was so youthful and adorable. You swallowed hard as you felt his breath against your eyelashes.

“And why do you think I get the way that I do when I see you flirt with other guys? You know why, don’t you sweetheart.” He said, melodiously.

Dean’s lips were ghosting over yours. You were silently begging him to just kiss you and kiss you hard. All the tension that had been building over the years was coming to a head right now. His tie dangled down from around his neck, you were dying to just pull him on top of you and find out what he tastes like…all of him.

“Because you want me as much as I want you?” You replied, gently touching his tie.

Still holding his tie, you inched yourself up toward the headboard. Dean followed your lead as you removed his tie and began to unbutton his dress shirt.

“I want you more.” He purred into your ear before his perfect lips crashed onto yours.

Dean covered your mouth with his own, devouring you with every kiss he placed on your lips, neck and jaw. You won the fight to be on top, although you were sure he let you win, and you continued to unbutton his shirt while he grasped clumsily at the buttons on yours.

They were small so he was having a hard time with them until you stepped in.

“I’ll do them, baby.” You whispered as he haphazardly tossed his clothes to the side.

You stood up and let your pants fall to your ankles while you finished unbuttoning your silk shirt. His desire for you was very apparent by the large tent in his boxers that you felt against your core as soon as you straddled him. The bottom of the shirt brushed against his thighs and goosebumps peppered across his skin.

You decided to let him finish undressing you.

Dean’s hands gently pushed your shirt off of your shoulders and all that was left was the black lace bra that was barely containing your breasts that he could not wait to get you out of. The man was a pro at unhooking your bra with one hand. If you didn’t want him so badly, you would have stopped to give him shit for it.

He lightly nipped the skin down the side of your neck, making you gasp when he got to the spot where your neck meets your shoulder. You felt like you could have come just by him biting down on that sweet spot. The growing ache between your thighs was torture and you desperately wanted him to touch you.

Like he read your mind, his strong hands migrated from your breasts down to your waist. Reaching in between your thighs, Dean teased your entrance with one finger, then slid another inside with ease.

“You’re soaked, sweetheart.” He whispered as a strangled moan escaped your lips.

To suffocate your screams, you bit down on your lower lip as he continued to move his talented fingers, hooking them in just the right spot to make you see stars, and drew circles on your clit to really tease you.

“Dean!” You pleaded, just before you hit your peak and tightly clenched around his fingers.

“You can be loud, baby. These kinds of places are used to noises like that, if ya know what I mean.” He said with a wink and a smirk.

You smiled back, pressed your lips to his, and lightly bit down on his bottom lip before starting to pepper kisses down his chest.

After pulling down his boxers, you took him into your mouth. A deep guttural moan and words of praise fled from Dean’s lips when your tongue circled the underside. That made him draw in a sharp breath as his fingers tangled in your hair.

“Fuck, that feels good, sweetheart.” He hissed and mumbled something else incoherently.

Crawling up his body, he slipped on a condom and then as you straddled him, you replied, “My mouth isn’t just for flirting, Dean.”

He slid into you with ease, burying himself to the hilt, causing you both to gasp before he cut your moan short with a hard kiss. You circled your hips slowly, allowing him to go deeper inside you, and it sent sharp tingles down your spine.

You pulled him in close as your walls began to tighten around him, clinging to him like your life depended on it with your climax starting to build.

Dean’s body was a warm cradle for yours as his fast abrupt strokes were about to send you over the edge and fast. But he loved to look at you so he pulled away slightly and watched your pleasure surge through you.

As you were riding out one orgasm, Dean managed to pull another one from you as you loudly called out his name like no one else was around which made him feral.

His movements became faster, more brutal, pulling out of you just so he could slam into you again and again as his body went rigid underneath you. Crushing your waist, his arms were wrapped around you so tightly that all of the air escaped your lungs.

His release came hard and fast, followed by a strangled moan while your bodies trembled from overstimulation. Dean’s eyes were wide and unfocused as he tried to catch his breath while you leaned in for a gentle kiss and let your fingers glide through his soft brown hair.

Collapsing on top of him, you smiled against his chest as his fingers tickled the outside of your arm and the only thing you could hear was Dean’s heart beating rapidly against your ear.

Trying to get your breathing under control, you covered yourself with the sheet and finally managed to ask, “So…does this mean you don’t want me to flirt for information anymore?”

Dean kissed the top of your head and replied, “As long as you come home with me, I’ll allow it.”

“ALLOW IT?! You’re not the boss of me, Winchester.” You said, sarcastically.

He licked his lips as you looked up at him through your long dark lashes.

In barely more than a whisper, he said, “Well what if I told you you’re really pretty and that I might be…in love with you?”

“Awww…you’re really pretty too!” You said, jokingly.

Dean rolled his eyes, “Alright, I’m tryin’ to—“

Wrapped up in the sheet, you sat upright, cupped his cheeks and pressed your lips to his, your tongue slipped into his mouth to tangle with his as a low growl escaped his lips.

“I might be in love with you too.” You whispered against his mouth.

Chasing each other’s smiles, he continued to kiss you until you heard a key in the door. Sam walked in, took one look at the two of you and without missing a beat said, “Oh good, you two worked it out. So I was thinking, I might know who—“

He stopped, looked at the two of you and shouted, “Guys…that’s MY bed!!”

You and Dean started to laugh.

Oops.

Tag List: @munsonownsmyass @gijos @stoneyggirl2 @vaguekayla

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[n0tamused]

Hello! Congrats on 1.5k! That’s so awesome! 👏

Would it be okay to request romantic Action prompt 11 “Person A and B are sparring when one of them pins the other to the floor/wall” for Mydei? Would be cute if Reader pinned Mydei and surprised him lol 😈

I’m in shambles after 3.1–

I also request you have a lovely week heheh ❤️

︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹Mydei x Reader

A/n: EYY ANON THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR REQUESTING FOR MYDEI ILY, I WAS WAITING FOR A MYDEI REQUEEST UGDTZJUKJHHIFI<3 Also thank you!!! 3.1 left me in some(a lot) denial, thus I shall be taking charge of writing how Mydei's story ends <3. Anyhow, I hope you enjoy this, thank you for partaking in the event and helping me celebrate this milestone! <3

Contents: Mydei x Reader, no gender specified(GN, you/yours) but written with a fem reader in mind, fluff

Words: 580

Ko-Fi |  1.5K followers event

His next swing came from the left, swift and powerful, leaving you just enough time for you to raise your arm in defense. The blow still sent you back, and Mydei did not stop his assault there. Several more blows came, left and right, above and under, some you parried and others you dodged well enough. At one point you caught sight of his face, all twisted in focus, so amusing in the moment that it made you chortle. 

“You’re growing frustrated” you noted through a huff, just before seeing an opening to repay him with your own strike. Mydeimos caught your wrist, but could not hold it for a moment longer as you jumped back out of his grasp. Swift as a snake.

“I am not” 

“Tired then” 

He scoffed at you and shook his head, the corners of his lips giving a small tug upwards, showing faintest traces of a smirk. “You can wish” He launched at you, but something caught in his step and more of his body came forward, and with that his balance as well. For a moment you thought you’d miss your chance, as not often did Mydeimos lose his balance, but you caught the moment just in time, your body going down as your foot went under his own, successfully tripping him.

Mydei went tumbling and the breath he let out sounded as if the air got kicked out of him. You wasted no time, hopping onto him and pinning him down with a gleeful expression, perhaps one too smug, yet it couldn’t be helped.

“You are done, Mydeimos” you threw at him, chest heaving and your hand clinging onto him to hold him down - no matter how much enjoyment you took from seeing his eyes widen at you in surprise, you knew better than to let victory blind you. It goes without saying that you may have had some experiences with Mydeimos when triumph was quickly followed by your failure.  “I take victory today”.

“Victory based on luck is no victory to boast about” he shot back at you, gaze narrowing in that catish way of his, fire burning in his eyes.

“You would not be able to complain about that in a real battle” you began, already seeing him roll his eyes, having heard the same words from his mentor, “if your enemy relied on chance to reign triumph over you, it means you, also, relied in part on luck to win” 

“That means - I won, fair and square” you concluded, sparing you both any further philosophical talk that usually came with such topics.

“Fair and square, you won’t be saying that once I get up off the ground-”

“Then I will not let you rise from the ground at all”

“Why, are you scared you might just fail, that your run has run out?”

You scoffed, feeling the big ball of light and fire inside your chest burn brighter at the thought that entered your mind swiftly. 

“No, in fact, it is because I rather like this sight before me. I’d like to commit it to memory”

Mydeimos gawked at you, his lips falling ajar to say something only to find sounds of protest in place of words he wanted. He felt even more frustrated when you began to giggle and laugh, your arms leaving his frame and arms where you had him pinned down - it seems your words were enough force to keep him nailed down until he recovers. 

Ⓒ n0tamused/jarttavia_. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

[asterkatt]

ISAT ACT 5 SPOILERS!!

okay I said I was going to give more thoughts on act 5 of ISAT and then uh. I didn't. oopsies. but we're here now!!

I loved Odile's friendquest in this act SO much. one of my favorite things about the way the game handled Siffrin's actions throughout the entirety of act 5 in general is that everyone's reactions to him were so DIFFERENT. but not only were they different, they had reasons for being different. it wasn't just "Siffrin says something messed up, hurts someone's feelings, pushes it down, rinse and repeat". each "breakdown" was specifically tailored to be character specific. to fit in with how they've behaved in the story thus far, as well as how Siffrin feels about them/tends to respond to them in particular. with Mirabelle, it really was entirely accidental. Siffrin didn't even realize how their wording might come across in the moment. It wasn't him lashing out in any way - just him genuinely trying to cut corners. Odile?? Odile's was very different. it's easy to see that there's a lot of tension between Siffrin and Odile - more tension than there is with anyone else. Odile has been a thorn in Sif's side - constantly observing and watching and theorizing about why they're behaving strangely. I did the sus quest. Sif knows that she has the ability to figure it out. Consequently, they have to be way more aware of her than anyone else. (side note that's not entirely relevant to this but I want to bring it up - the fact Siffrin believes that her constant eye on him is because "she doesn't trust you" makes me sick. because that's not it at all. they might pretend it is. hell, she might act like it is. but it's not and she knows that. she knows it's because she's worried because she cares and Siffrin can't understand that.) so I feel like they took the "mistake" of messing up with Odile harder than they took any of the other interactions. because how could they be so stupid. how could they forget. how could he forget that she always figures it out.

so of course he lashes out. not only are they being faced with the same blinding mistake they've made over and over and over again, it's also a reminder that she doesn't trust him. (and why should she?).

and then she goes and makes it all worse by calling him a "friend". because they know that's not how she sees them. he believes that she doesn't trust him. so it must seem like she's directly lying to his face - and she thinks they're too dense to see through it.

I love that Odile doesn't back down. she doesn't shy away when they start yelling at her. she doesn't let it slide just because she made them upset (Isa and Mira both probably would - though Isa would try and get them to talk about it later). she pushes, because that's the only way she's going to get any answers.

the way you can feel her anger when Siffrin hits her where it hurts the most (without even seeing her face) is just AUHGSKJDHFKJSH. the writing of this game. the details. never cease to amaze me. I love the way she snaps back. she doesn't get angry, she doesn't yell - and yet somehow it hurts just as badly.

I also love the way Siffrin reflects on it - the way they acknowledge that "she was only worried about you!!!" because deep down he knows that their friends do actually care about him. the way Odile handles the situation afterwards as well - at the clocktower?????? I love that you can tell she's trying so hard to make the "right" choice to not endanger them when it's not what she wants. she doesn't want to leave Siffrin behind. If they weren't going to take on the King the next day, I guarantee you she'd be using anything in her power to figure out what was going on with him. I don't have the exact quote rn but at the end of the sus questline she mentions that she can't let something go when she finds it odd - and this is BEYOND odd. but she has to put the safety of the whole group and their mission first, and I love seeing that side of her.