#i just want a fic or smth

[vanderlesbian]

dating simon riley means constant clinginess. large arms wrapped around your waist at any given moment, simon is most comfortable when he's holding you. after being away from a long mission, he'll find you wherever you are in your shared apartment and silently crawl into your arms like a puppy. he'll bury his face into the crook of your neck, slowly inhaling to bask in your scent that he missed more than anything. with an amused chuckle, you'll wrap your arms around his warm torso, gently rubbing his back. "no hello?" you'll tease, to which you always earn a content hum in response, along with simon's hold tightening ever so slightly.

dating simon riley means lots of playful teasing. if you make a typo in a text message, he'll begin spelling the word as your typo for the rest of the day. if you believed in a silly fact, he'd bring it up for the rest of your life. "this is like when you thought our blood was actually blue" he'd snicker, which would cause you to whine for him to stop and swat his arm.

dating simon riley means constantly being cared for. simon is a man who can do everything, or at least tries to. he somehow manages to get to all the chores before you do, which has ended in you reassuring him that you can handle it many, many times. when doing something potentially dangerous like standing on a ladder, handling a knife or using tools, simon will constantly glance in your direction to make sure something won't slip and injure you. like a spidey sense, he's quick to pull you away or come to your rescue if you're in a situation where you're about to hurt yourself. "you alright?" he'll mumble softly, dark eyes laced with worry that is a rare sight to be seen by anyone else.

dating simon riley means you have a second wardrobe. his large clothes are just too comfortable to resist, and he's often left searching the apartment for a shirt that you had placed amongst your own clothes. though, he makes no effort to steal them back from you, as seeing you in his tshirt, his boxers and his hoodie fills him with a loving possessiveness. he'll walk into the kitchen to see you turned away as you wash dishes, wearing one of his shirts as a short dress. managing to silently sneak behind you even with his bulky frame, he'll wrap his arms around you from behind and place a kiss against the nape of your neck. "you look so pretty in my shirt, love." he'll then purr into your ear.

dating simon riley means seeing a side of him that many never do. whether it be physically or personality wise, you see so much of simon that you can't remember the last time you referred to him as ghost. his large pointy nose, his dirty blonde hair that he always forgets to fix in the mornings, and his lopsided smile that appears when you tell the corniest of jokes are all things that many have never seen and never will. he speaks so softly to you; a low tone that you can feel reverberating in his chest when you lay against him. simon is kind, patient and vulnerable with you, and will mutter the words "i love you" against your lips, just loud enough for only you to hear.

dating simon riley means being friends with the rest of the 141. you were the one who wished to host hangouts at your apartment, wanting those closest to simon to like you. despite their intimidating demeanors, you quickly realized just how kind they were. they know just how important you are to simon, which is a rare feat in itself, so they would never treat you in an ill manner. soap will always refer to you as "the missus" when speaking to simon, which never fails to make you giggle when you overhear their conversations.

masterlist

[seiwas]

you wear katsuki’s clothes to bed.

among all your cotton and silk pajamas, you prefer the thinning fabric of his faded tees. there are holes in some of them, just a few more seams away from their undoing as they fit far too large on you—but that’s why you love them.

they’re comfy and worn; lived in with love from the man that you love. when katsuki is gone for days or weeks at a time, you find his warmth intertwined within the threads of his t-shirts. when the fabric presses against your back, the bed doesn’t feel nearly as empty as it is.

(though it can never replace him. nothing can, you fear.)

“hoggin’ all my shirts,” he tuts, but you know it means nothing. the roll of white fabric is neatly folded unto itself, its crisp corners unfurling once handed over.

you giggle, shaking off its folds and fitting the hem right over your head. from the corner of your eye, you see katsuki’s gaze, watching you wrangle the fabric over you as the towel wrapped around your body slowly drops to the floor.

he turns away then, a little too quickly, a little too abruptly. if you look at him now, you’re sure you’ll find flushed cheeks and crimson eyes burning in shame for wanting you so inopportunely.

“guess you’ll just have to take me with it then.”

[even-disco-baby]

THOUGHT GAINED: INFERNAL ENGINES

PROBLEM

The world is ending. You know it, your neighbor knows it, the dealer knows it, the jailer knows it, the king and all his men know it. All one has to do is look around to see it— the future is curdling into something pale and incorporeal. The infernal machine that is this stupid world is going to blow, sooner rather than later. So what are you doing? Why are you still here? Why is anyone still here?

SOLUTION

You are doing the only thing worth doing. You are living. *Why,* you ask? Try and remember now. Remember your mother’s hand on your shoulder. Remember the taste of a fresh catch. Remember the times when you were kind to the dogs in the valley and they did not bare their teeth. Remember the weight of a child on your shoulders. Remember the stars throwing their light against the wall of sodium and smog. Remember singing until your throat was raw. Remember crying just as loudly and publicly, and the gentleness with which someone opened your curled fist and pressed a handkerchief into your palm. Crying, laughing, running, eating, screaming, haunting, loving, fighting, fighting, fighting. The fight fuels you, and you fuel the fight. You run yourself ragged just for a chance to keep running. You never stop. You cannot stop. The world depends on it. *You* are the infernal engine. You are the world. And, simply put: you want to live.

[giantkillerjack]

Me: hm, I want something to put on the TV as background noise... Huh. Looks like YouTube is recommending something called The Last Unicorn. That's perfect, it's probably some old shitty animation that has aged poorly! I can watch it ironically!

Me, 2 hours later as the credits roll: *crying, cheering, buying the book, composing the songs*

Me, 2 weeks later: So I have compiled all of the quotes from the book that I think could make good tattoos, and also, HOW HAVE I NEVER LEARNED ABOUT HOW THE LAST UNICORN FUCKING SLAPS??? This gay-ass little fairytale fed my soul! Watered my crops! Transed my gender! Can't believe I heard of this story from youtube recommendations, of all places!!

[fiendishartist2]

guy who doesnt dance x guy who will drag you onto the dance floor

[littleliterarylesbian]

it is 4am and all I can think about is dark obsessive jegulus rn.

just hear me out, the cloak and the map? perfect stalking material. Maybe it starts off innocent, James just wanting to check up on Regulus for some reason or James wanting to know more about his best friend's little brother but it spirals out of control quickly. One moment he's watching Regulus' name move on the map, the next he's under the cloak and trying his hardest not to be detected. He's sneaking into the Slytherin dorms, he's trying to figure out how close Regulus' friends actually are to him.

and I feel like I don't have to explain at all for Regulus, I feel his family name and legacy speaks up plenty. Regulus is smart, Regulus is cunning. He caught on quite quickly that he was getting trailed around. Maybe not knowing who at first, but he at least can tell when footsteps not matching his own sound off around him. He mentions wanting one thing, within the week it's his, he mentions doing something but just being too busy, suddenly at least half of his plans are cancelled. He mentions wanting someone gone and suddenly they're just simply buried six feet under. He eats up the power he's given. Then he finds out it's James Potter behind it all and suddenly it just got 10x better.

blah blah blah they're sick freaks and they fall in love and are crazy about each other. Carved their names into each other's skin and EVERYTHING. I just want freak4freak jegulus.

[capricioussun]

2am post jumpscare

[sweetieviktor]

"it's the tradition", feat. viktor.

summary: it's christmas in runeterra and couples are sharing kisses under the mistletoe.

word count: 1.000. (yes! exactly 1k im happy with it :]

content warning: just fluff as always! :DD (written with s1 viktor in mind!!!

author notes: ITS 5AM AND IVE WRITTEN 2 FICS IN A DAY, maybe im going to die but fuck it we ball. love viktor and love xmas, i wish i could use sweaters but in brazil december is sooo hot but yeah, here it is a lil something for the holidays. hope u like it!! :)))

whenever some holiday approaches, piltover academy is adorned in it's colour by students. it's december and the halls are decorated with reds and greens all the way, bringing joy to those who look up and see the fairy lights blinking slowly to them. christmas is coming, and so is winter.

everyone is using their thickest coats, but there's still some people who are cold, even if they are holding hot drinks to warm up both their hands and their body, or if they are rubbing their arms, creating some friction that could maybe help it, or sharing kisses under the mistletoe meticulously placed on the tree near the entrance of the academy, which have all kind of things hanging on it. some letters addressed to santa, little brilliant baubles made in all type of materials you could think of, red bows and colorful lights, all made by it's students.

you wanted to spend your day like this, enjoying over your partner's warmth under the mistletoe. well, life isn't fair. he was already working and you needed to work too, but maybe you could bring him some sweet milk and cookies on your lunch break, right?

so once the clock hitted midday, you walked to the cafeteria, the same one you and viktor got out on your first date, and ordered enough cookies for both of you. the women on the other side of the counter packed them to you, putting the little bag on your right hand, while you carried the cup of sweet milk on the other. finally, you got out, hands full, hoping that you could bring him some of the christmas spirit when leaving those in the lab.

when you made it to the academy again, it was even more crowded than earlier, students going in and out, chatting and joking around, throwing snowballs at each other and playing in the snow. and again, the couples kissing under the mistletoe. and all you could think of was him. oh, how you missed his kisses. so you hurried up, the flashy holiday themed colors in the halls blending together in an indistinguishable blur.

once you reached his lab, you knocked on the door, anxiously waiting for an answer. you could feel how your heart thumped against your ribs, maybe it's the nervousness or just because you runned all the way to come here in time. “come in,” was all you could hear from inside.

you turned the door knob, pushing it so you could enter the lab. he was hunched over his desk, but once he looked past his shoulder, realizing you were the one who got in, his golden eyes immediately lighted up, just like the fairy lights, but shined even brighter when he seemed the baked goods you carried, then turning again to his work, “just wait a bit, i will finish this, ehh- hopefully soon.”

you came from behind him, leaving both the bag and the cup over his desk, “i know these are your favorites,” you put your hand on his shoulder, “and it's my break now, but soon i need to get back to work,” his hand stopped, no longer making calculations. he looked up at you, then at the papers in front of him, thinking if he should or not give in.

sighing, he let the pencil over the papers. you knew he would keep working if you didn't say it. “i guess i could give myself a break, then,” the corners of his mouth quirking up while he reached for the bag, opening it and letting the smell of the cookies bathe the place, bringing coziness alongside it. he shoved his hand on the bag, picking one up and biting onto it, humming softly when it melted on his tongue, then bringing the almost half cookie to your lips, only to put away and eat it himself.

he was laughing loudly, keeping a hand over his mouth, to prevent any crumbs from coming out. “you ain't fair,” you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. you knew he was just joking, but you wanted to eat too, “i brought those so we both could eat. together!”

“i know, i know!”, he said, getting the cup of sweet milk and taking a sip of it, “but it's fun to tease you. can't help it,” he shrugged, looking at your pouty expression turning into one of anger. picking another cookie, he proceeded to feed you first, your frown immediately disappearing. he was trying to not laugh again, but he couldn't contain it, as he did so, soon the frown came back to your face.

“stop making fun of me and let me eat, for jannas's sake,” you also couldn't keep your smile from growing, it was such a good atmosphere that, even if you were mad at him for stealing your cookie and laughing at you, you couldn't be mad for longer than thirty seconds.

you were laughing with him, happy with how your lunch was going, eating and talking, so busy with everything that you didn't see him fidgeting, looking for something inside his jacket pocket. once there was no more food nor milk, he cleaned his hands, bringing one over you both, holding something up. a mistletoe.

you scoffed, running your hand over your face, “really, viktor?”, you were astonished, he truly got one of those just he could have an excuse to kiss you?

“well, it's the tradition, isn't it?”, he grinned, placing his free hand on your waist, bringing you closer, “any person who's under the mistletoe must kiss, it's correct?”

“yes, absolutely correct,” you put both hands on each side of his face, kissing his lips softly, tasting the sugar on his mouth. “but you taste like milk and cookies,” you kissed him again, just to make sure you got it right, “maybe next year i will bring you more of these, so we could kiss under the mistletoe again.”

“oh, christmas may be my favorite holiday now.”

[ecstarry]

"It was a Thursday" a love confession far from perfect // 529 words

It was not supposed to happen like this. They both had waited so long, it was going to be special. Possibly on the weekend trip they had carefully planned and made up excuses to justify sharing a bed. Or maybe it was going to happen after breakfast, on their walk back to the hotel. 

They were waiting. Regulus was certain they both figured it out at the same time — no doubt late compared to the rest of their friends. But it was a Tuesday, and the weather was horrible and his hair just didn’t look right. That was no way to confess his love to one James Potter. 

But today, a Thursday, with an okay weather, exams around the corner, when both of them were upset was definitely worse. 

Regulus couldn’t even remember what they were even fighting about, let alone how it turned into both of them screaming and blowing up on each other. There was nothing left to be said.

It was James who broke the silence. “I’m done, Reg,” 

He was going to be sick. “What does that even mean?” Regulus’ voice broke. 

“I won’t fight anymore,” James responded. 

Regulus turned his face, the thought of watching James leave was unbearable. “So you’ll just go?” He could barely get the words out. 

“Look at me.” James took a step closer. 

“No.” Regulus' eyes shut his eyes as he felt James’ hands squeeze his arms. Why did he have to be this gentle even when he was breaking Regulus’ heart?

James released his grip and softly brushed the side of Regulus’ arm with his thumb. “Please, look at me.”

Regulus obliged. James’ eyes were just as teary-eyed as his own. Was it just as tormentful for James to watch him?

“Why are you crying if I’m the one who has to watch you leave?” There was no venom in Regulus’ tone, and sadness seemed too insignificant of a word at the moment. Ache. That was closer. 

James’ hands traveled to his face, and god, were they were warm. One last kiss of the sun on his skin before winter came. He would miss it. They were so close to having it all, then Regulus snapped, said something wrong, and he didn’t even remember it. He couldn’t stop as his sharp words attacked until it was too late, he had crossed a line. James would-

“I love you.”

What?

“I love you.” James repeated, loudly. “I’m not leaving.” 

“Yo- you said you were done.”

“Fighting. I was done fighting, Reg.” James chuckled as he moved his feet close enough that the point of their shoes were touching. “I could never be done with you.” 

Regulus felt as if he was drowning and had finally caught some air. They were okay. James wasn’t leaving. James loved him. James loved him?

“You love me?”

“Actually, I’m in love with you.” James whispered as he lifted Regulus’ face slightly. “And I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten that upset, you were already stressed and I knew it but I just couldn’t keep my mouth shu-”

“I love you too.”

“You do?”

“In love, actually.” Regulus said, allowing a small smile to form.

There was no perfect breakfast, no perfect weather, no perfect sunrise. It was a Thursday, with an okay weather, exams around the corner, both of them upset, and yet, they loved each other. Any day together would be lovely as long as that one truth remained. 

[johnslittlespoon]

Tough And Sweet (Like You And Me) ♡

'Gale looks unfairly handsome in the soft golden light of the late evening, but even more unfair is the fact that John can’t just bridge the gap between them and kiss his feelings away. The more time he spends around Gale, the more it feels like he’s being consumed by his overwhelming infatuation, and there’s not a single thing he can do about it that doesn’t involve the risk of scaring the man out of his life.

So he shuts the truck door behind him after promising Gale he’ll text when he’s safe inside, and he tries not to stare too forlornly as the truck putters off down the street and rounds the corner.'

[ AO3 ]

[girlsdads]

#ok it’s giving girl dad wearing his daughter’s handmade necklace special for him into work 🥺🥺😩😩

couldn’t stop thinking about this tag of mine, wrote a little smth about it 🥰

The stomping footfalls racing down the hall behind him could only be those of a toddler. Daniel turns and squats just in time for his tiny blonde projectile of a child to come barreling into his chest. The force sends Daniel falling back onto his butt with a surprised oof, his daughter giggling delightedly in his lap.

“Hey, Ellie-bug,” Daniel smiles. “Daddy’s gotta go to work, remember how we talked about it and you promised to be a big girl?” He brushes a strand of hair away from her mouth where it’s gotten stuck in a little smear of jam leftover from her breakfast. Daniel had shown Max how to make it just the way she likes—the pancake batter shaped in the silicone star mold, the silly faces drawn in jelly and jam.

Ellie’s head bobs up and down dutifully, but she makes no move to get up.

Max appears from the kitchen then, looking like a man who’s been fighting a losing battle with the second pancake. There’s a splatter of thick batter on his white t-shirt. He’s holding the spatula like it’s offended him somehow. Daniel looks at him over their daughter’s head, and loves him fiercely.

“She is of course the biggest girl,” Max says. Ellie grins proudly. “Why don’t you give Daddy your present now, then we will finish your pancakes.”

Daniel watches her grey-blue eyes light up like she’s just now remembering why she came running at him in the first place. She reaches a chubby hand into the bib pocket on her overalls, embroidered Enchanté script stretching as she roots around and produces a string of brightly-colored plastic beads. She holds it out to him expectantly.

Daniel takes the strand delicately in hand, wraps it around the backs of his fingers and rotates his wrist to get a good look. It’s a necklace, probably more of a choker given its relatively small circumference, the fat pony beads the only real indication it was made by a child. The powder pink and fuchsia beads are separated by interspersed pearlescent white orbs and clear sparkly stars. Smack in the center is a single number bead, a glittery pink three.

“Jeepers, did you make this for me? It’s beautiful!” Daniel says, and means it. He’s already been wanting to talk to his team about adding a jewelry collection to a future drop, and what better inspiration?

Ellie nods excitedly. “Papa helped me do a…,” she pauses, squints and tilts her little head, searching for the word, “…a pattern!”

“We made it the other day, while you were out with Blake,” Max chimes in. “For good luck.” He sounds almost bashful, like maybe it wasn’t their daughter’s idea in the first place. Daniel’s heart is so swollen it’s threatening to leak out through the gaps in his ribcage.

“How’d I get so lucky, huh?” Daniel muses, softly, mostly to himself. He stretches the elastic over his head, feels the smooth plastic three settle in the hollow of his throat. His pulse thrums evenly against it, grounding.

He flashes his biggest smile at his family. “How do I look?”

“Pretty, Daddy!” Ellie throws herself forward again, wrapping her arms around Daniel’s neck. It leaves him locking eyes with Max, who’s gazing down at the two of them like nothing else in the universe exists. Daniel can never quite get used to that look—still feels butterflies dancing up the back of his throat, his stomach dropped into a glorious freefall.

“Beautiful, Daniel,” Max says, reverent. “Always.”

[stickybowl]

audi tp carlos/driver oscar wip

Oscar wins the championship. It's fireworks shooting into the sky. It’s loud cheers in his ear both from his radio and from the grandstands. It’s the champagne sneaking into his fireproof. It's a heavy weight being lifted from his shoulders. The air knocked out from his chest. Oscar feels everything all at once.

'This is only the beginning, Oscar.', Mark whispers in his ear and he believes it.

Except he's not sure anymore. Oscar Piastri won the championship two years ago but has not even been close to a win ever since. Lando left McLaren a year after Oscar won his championship.

At the time, everyone thought it's because Lando knew he would never win a championship with Oscar as his teammate. But now as he looks at Lando at the podium wearing dark blue, he thinks maybe that was not entirely the reason why he left. Possibly, not a reason at all.

But who would have predicted that McLaren would go backwards after such excellent years?

"Oscar."

He turns and sees brown eyes still as intense as they were when they first met his. He breathes deeply and accepts the handshake offered to him.

"Great race." Carlos says and clasps his other hand on his shoulder. Oscar winces a bit, feeling his fingers dig into his skin. He's not sure if he's just imagining it.

Carlos Sainz retired from driving a long time ago. Didn't even wait for Oscar to win the championship so he can rub it in his face. Shame. He still sees Carlos in the paddock from time to time. Still glued to Lando's side after all these years. Maybe even more so now that he's not competing with Lando anymore.

Oscar scoffs with humour, "Yeah. Great race." If you can call a p5 which he barely held onto anything, it surely wouldn’t be the word great.

Carlos raises one eyebrow at him. "Not happy, huh?"

The hand on his shoulder has found its way back on Carlos’s jeans pocket and he suddenly wishes it was still on his shoulder, pressure firm. Just to ground him.

He hasn't been happy with the team, with the car for some time now. But this is his team. The one he made his debut with. The one he won races with. The one he won a championship with. But it's not enough. Oscar wants more. He always wants more. But he can't say that. He hasn't said it to anyone else but Mark who was probably the first one to frown at McLaren's faults even before Oscar noticed it.

He sure as hell would not share it to Carlos. He’s not a threat. He's nothing in the paddock anymore. He just comes here to entertain himself. Still, Oscar won't put it past Carlos to run his big mouth around the paddock.

"I'm as happy as I can be." He shrugs.

Carlos laughs, disbelief dancing in his eyes. Oscar wants to claw at Carlos' skin and scream. What do you know? You don't know me. You don't even know the team you used to work for anymore.

Oscar nods his goodbye and leaves. No point in souring his mood even more than it is by standing next to Carlos who still thinks he knows better than Oscar.

You've never won a championship, Carlos. What could you possibly know that I don't?

"Oscar."

Oscar stops at his tracks but doesn't turn. He rolls his eyes thinking god, does he ever stop talking?

"You know you could have more than this. You deserve more."

Oscar shakes his head and continues walking. He's not gonna stand there and let Carlos tell him what he already knows. Oscar has been in formula one for years. He's already made his mark in the sport. He's adored. He's looked up to. But speaking with Carlos still makes him feel like the rookie he was once. Enthusiastic and eager. Maybe a little foolish. He's not listening to carlos.

"Jesus christ."

Oscar sits in his living room, his phone on hand lit up with an image Mark just sent him.

'You want me to talk to him?' Mark sends.

Carlos Sainz new Audi F1 Team principal.

Oscar runs a hand down his face. As it turns out, Carlos still does know some things Oscar doesn't.

'Yes, please.' he replies.

Damn it.

[coolnonsenseworld]

A little promo with my little obsession on the side...........

Reminder all items are shipped from Poland - for details on shipping times check out FAQ or send me a private message!

 mmezzy.bigcartel.com

[baeshijima]

ever since the 5.2 trailer this is all ive been able to think about

once again, the genshin pokemon au thoughts are running wild

excuse the mega long rant in tags bc i geeked out perhaps a lil too much abt pkmn au but ourghghg.... we do not talk abt how i spent at least an hour writing all this out....

[dyerink]

October 2001, Japan (from coanda effect on ao3!)

[wikiangela]

fuck it friday

tagged by @tizniz @bidisasterevankinard @kirkaut 💖

more of the leg pain fic! still not sure I wrote everything the way I want in this snippet, but it's the general idea, future me will deal with whatever I don't like when editing lol

prev snippet

___

“It’s really nothing to worry about,” he whispers, eyes locked on Tommy’s. For some reason it’s just- it’s not easy to say it, to admit he’s hurting, and to accept the inevitable love and care he knows Tommy’s about to shower him in. He loves it, he loves Tommy, but there’s something about letting people take care of him while he’s in pain that just feels almost too vulnerable. But it’s Tommy, and Buck wants Tommy to know him. And a part of him wants to let his boyfriend fuss over him and take care of him, at least let him bring him some painkillers from downstairs, because he’s dreading going down all those stairs while his leg is in a state of constant throbbing pain, which turns sharp and stabbing whenever he moves. But then there’s the other part of him, the stubborn part that wants to manage everything on his own, that feels like a burden, like he’s asking for too much, being too much, and he can do it all on his own, he really can. But, well, it’s Tommy. Buck doesn’t need to feel like this with him, doesn’t need to prove anything. He can be vulnerable and needy, and he can be as Buck as he can, and Tommy will never mind – he’ll love it, actually. Sometimes it’s hard to remember that Tommy is so loving and supportive, and Buck can be just unapologetically himself, and that he can actually lean on him.

___

no pressure tags (lmk if you wanna be added or removed): @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @watchyourbuck @loserdiaz @ladydorian05 @diazpatcher @monsterrae1 @spagheddiediaz @rainbow-nerdss @epicbuddieficrecs @pirrusstuff @bucks-daddy-issues @rogerzsteven @giddyupbuck @honestlydarkprincess @911-on-abc @jesuisici33 @steadfastsaturnsrings @buddieswhvre @fortheloveofbuddie @daffi-990 @aroeddiediaz @thewolvesof1998 @exhuastedpigeon @underwaterninja13 @hippolotamus @your-catfish-friend @loveyouanyway @theotherbuckley @diazsdimples @kinard-buckley @evansboyfriend @bucked-it-up @spotsandsocks @hoodie-buck @weewootruck @strandfirefly @41noodlesoups