#i love them so much they deserve everything

[kirislovelygf]

self-care night (sevika x fem! reader)

contents: after the battle and after losing jinx and isha, you take it upon yourself to take care of sevika, giving her a much needed quiet night. total fluff, you and sevika are married, post seaosn 2 finale, sevika is finally taken care of like she deserves <3

wrd count: 1.6k

a few mornings ago, sevika had her first day on the job as a councilwoman. 

caitlyn gave up her seat on the council to give sevika the opportunity to speak up for zaun. 

she came home that evening angry as anything. the other councilpeople acted like she didn't even exist. 

and when she was able to speak up, her requests went in one ear and out the other. 

when she received the opportunity to have a seat on the council, we were thrilled. but after that day, she's been trying hard not to blow up on everyone and confirm their suspicions of what would happen with a zaunite on the council. 

tonight, i made her a warm and filling meal and set up the bathroom with candles and pleasant soaps so she can take a relaxing bath. 

i was sitting on the couch reading a book when she came home. 

she closes the door and looks up at me. "hi." she mutters. 

"hey. another long day?" i ask her gently. 

"tch.. you tell me." she joked. she sat down at the kitchen table that was just beside the front door to yank her boots off her feet. 

i close my book and placed it aside before walking over to her. as she struggled to untie the laces of her boots, i cupped her face so she could look up at me. 

"sorry, honey." i muttered before i kissed her. "at least you get the weekend off." i said as i looked at her face. she smiled gently before i crouched to untie the laces of her boots. 

"hey, i was doing that." she chuckled as i threw them on the doormat. "i'm not helpless." 

"just let me take care of you." i smiled. i look at her once more. "why don't you wash up for dinner. i was able to make your favorite tonight." i said to her as i stepped away to check on the food on the stove. 

i hear her come up beside me and take a look at the food that's simmering. 

"damn.. all this for just us?" she said. 

"yeah. i know you skipped out on lunch, so you must be starving." i said as i stirred the meat on the saucepan. 

"how'd you know i skipped lunch?" she asks me. i looked up at her. "i always do. now, go. wash your hands." she laughs softly before washing her hands in the sink. 

i quickly plate everything for her and place ehr food at the table just as she sits down. once i set everything down, i went to plate my own food. 

i turned to go sit down and i saw she hadn't touched anything in front of her. didn’t even move to pick up her fork. "what are you waiting for? eat." i chuckled. 

"i'm waiting for you, dummy." she chuckled, picking up her fork. i smiled at her as i settled into my seat. 

dinner was quiet but nice. i left music playing on the radio as i watched her enjoy her meal like she hasn't had one in forever. 

"this is.. amazing, honey. shit, i was starving." she said after slamming her cup of water down. i chuckled lightly. 

"i can tell." she smiles softly at me. after she got some food in her system, she talked to me about her stressful day as she waited for me to finish my meal. 

"they don't know.. anything about what life is like down here. hell, half of them think we've grown up in sewer pipes." she said quickly. 

"they cannot be serious." i shook my head lightly. "you would think they're stupid at first glance." she jokes. 

"maybe once they have someone with common sense on the council, they'll make better decisions." 

"yeah.. it's gonna take a while though." she hums. i watch her soft expression that is rarely ever seen. i love my wife. 

after washing dishes and cleaning the kitchen, i went nad ran the bath for her while she was occupied in our room, cleaning her mechanical arm. 

once i lit the last candle and turned off the lights, i went to our room to see her at her desk tinkering with the screws and nooks and crannies of her arm. 

"hey, vika?" i said softly. 

"hm?" she looks up at me from her device. "i ran you a bath. come on." i muttered

she smirks over her shoulder. "oh yeah?" 

"don't be gross. it's not like that." i chuckled. 

"oh.. damn.." she grumbled. "come on." i laugh. she follows me to the bathroom and i stand, leaning on the doorway

"you can stay there for however long you want. just relax, alright?" 

"whoa.." she gasped lightly at the acne in the bathroom. 

she looks down at me. "i- you didn't have to do all this." she hummed. 

i shrugged. "you're right. but i wanted to." 

she smiles. she wraps her arm around me while i do the same with both of mine. 

"i don't deserve you. seriously." she hummed after planting a kiss on my head. 

"yeah, you do." i said softly. 

i sat in our room while sevika took her bath. as i was flipping through the pages of my book, i remembered i had gone out and bought a scrub. at a shop up on topside, so it's bound to be good. 

i found it and went to the bathroom to give it to her. i knocked before walking into the dimly lit bathroom. she was sitting in the bath with her hair guarding her eyes from being seen at the side. 

"i bought this scrub today and thought you might like it." i said softly. “you did? why?” 

i sat on my knees as i unscrewed the top of the bottle. “it reminded me of you. here, smell." i said to her. 

i held it up to her nose and she took a quick whiff before humming. "it's nice.. like pine." she said. 

she went to grab it but i pulled it away. "let me." i said. 

"come on, honey. i can clean myself just fine." she chuckled softly. "no one's saying you can't. i just wanna do it for you." 

i look at her eyes before moving her strands aside. "you can't get your back anyway." i said. 

she rolled her eyes. "alright.." she hummed. i got up to find a stool and sat on it as i took a seat beside the tub, sitting behind her. 

the smell of snowy pine trees quickly invaded our noses as i massaged the scrub into her scarred back. 

looking at her muscles and scars, i imagined what it must be like to be her. to experience her life. 

her mother died at birth, father died even later. no siblings to mourn with her.

a best friend turned boss. now dead also.  

two young girls that were like her daughters, dead too. 

i feel like if i followed that same fate, she would end up offing herself. 

so much loss in her life. and she still stood strong every day without fail. 

"why are you doing all this?" she spoke up quietly. 

"hm?" i said as i rinsed off the soap crystals. 

"the dinner... the bath, everything you did tonight." she said. 

"i'm your wife, vika. it's what i enjoy doing." i said softly. 

there was a beat of silence. 

"it feels strange being taken care of like this. " she admitted. 

i poured water over her back again, watching the tiny crystals fall into the water. 

“i know..” i said softly. 

she shifts in the water, bringing her knees up to her chest. 

"sevika, you've devoted your entire life to bringing justice to our people. i've watched you take care of others, put their lives over your own.." i said, glancing over at her scarred stub that used to carry her left arm. 

i gently massaged the scrub over it, letting the scent sink into her skin. 

"it's like that's all you know how to do." i hummed. 

"after a while, you forget how to do anything else." she said quietly. 

"that's why i want to take care of you. while you learn how to pick yourself up again." i said, pouring water over her shoulder.

i’ve reminded her of this since we first got married. while she tells me she believes me, sometimes it slips. 

“you know, people look at you and see a terrifying old woman who can kill them with just a look.. and you are.” i said, to which she laughed softly. 

“but when i look in your eyes. when you hug me in the night when ere sleeping, all i see is a sweet girl who’s in need of love. and i want to give it to her.”

“so, while you're out there looking after the lanes… i’ll be here at the end of every day to take care of you.” i said. 

i rinse off the last of the soap from her shoulders and leaned back slightly. 

“okay?” 

she’s quiet for a second but turns her head slightly. “yeah.. okay.” she hums. 

i moved from my seat and sat next to her. i reached out to her chin and turned her head slightly to kiss her cheek. “i love you, you old softie.” i muttered. 

she looks at me with tears welling up in her eyes. 

“i love you. so much.” she said quietly. 

i held her face in my palm as i scanned her face before i kissed her lips. i pull away from her and smile softly. “you finish up here, alright?” 

i left her int he bathroom and waited for her in our bed. 

it was slightly cold, i just put on the freshly washed sheets, a new fuzzy blanket, and lit a candle that made the room smell like sugar cookies. 

she was dead asleep in seconds. 

a/n: i need to put sevika in my pocket, i love her and she deserves the world.

[v1rtualsalvat10n]

jumpscares you with a luigi drabble that i told no one about tee hee um he fingers you and hes super condescending and yeah,,, silly. anyways eat up guys and forget how long the dubcon fic is taking

"Easy, now."

You rocked your hips into his hand just before he said that, prompting him to push the two fingers buried inside of you up into your sweet spot, making you gasp and sink your fingers into the sheets.

Fuck. He'd been edging you for so long that you'd lost track of time. You made a snarky comment about how much restraint you had, and he was gonna hold you to it.

"Tsk. You're so needy. All I have to do is touch this-", prompted by him ramming his fingers into said spot, "-and you're melting into my hands."

He thrusted his fingers mercilessly, kneeling over you, who currently had your face down into a pillow and your ass up, on display for him. His other hand pressed down on your back, sliding down to your neck that he kept shoved into the bed.

You whined, your drool falling onto the fresh linen, your hips betraying you and pushing into his hand, clit rubbing against his palm. "What's wrong?" He slid his fingers as deep as they'd go, keeping your head down when it instinctively tried to come up. "Can't take it? You can always call it quits, you know."

His cock strained against his boxers as he fucked your warm hole with his fingers, your slick dripping off his skin and pooling down on the sheets beneath. He loved the sight of you so helpless. He couldn't deny that.

You only whined in response. He raised an eyebrow, but continued anyways. "Alright then."

Everything inside of you wished you could see the way he was looking at you right now. The way he stared down at you, holding himself straight while you shook and squirmed, chuckling at how fucking pathetic you looked underneath him.

But he wasn't granting you that privilege. He forced you to imagine it, deciding that you didn't deserve to derive that pleasure from him. He was reminding you that he was above you.

"Fuck!"

You tightened around his fingers and bit down into the pillow, moaning out his name. He laughed softly, slowing down his movements as he pulled his fingers out.

He rubbed your slick between his digits, before yanking your hair back and pressing them to your lips.

"You made a mess, love."

[sweetdispatch]

We need to talk - Q. Hughes

part 1

pairing: Quinn Hughes x girlfriend!reader

summary: Quinn and his girlfriend have a heart to heart conversation about what happened in the past two days

warning: mentions of sex (nothing graphic), swear words

words: 1.2k

note: continuation to the "The card", thank you for request and pushing me to make second part!

---

When you woke up, Quinn wasn’t by your side, which was unusual because he loved to cuddle you in the morning, especially when he had a free day and didn't have to rush on training. You were laying in bed thinking about the past two days. You and Quinn had an argument. He used the card. You said a safeword. You two promised to talk about it in the morning.

You groaned at the thought of having a confrontation with Quinn. The last thing you wanted was to talk with him about it. You felt embarrassed that this stupid argument had a domino effect and now, you had to explain yourself. You started to wonder if there was even a point of giving him a cold shoulder. It was, you had full right to do it. 

After 30 minutes, you decided to start the day and have the conversation behind you. You couldn’t be mad at Quinn forever. He deserved to hear your point of view and why it hurt you that much. You went into a closet to pick clothes for today and went into a bathroom. You stood in the shower longer than always, trying to collect all your thoughts of what you were planning to say to him. 

You stepped out from the bathroom and took a deep breath before you left the bedroom. There was no turning back now. Immediately you went into the kitchen to make yourself a cup of mint tea. You tried to cut the coffee and you were drinking tea every morning. To your surprise, you saw an already prepared drink on the kitchen island in your favorite mug.

“I heard you going into the bathroom so I made you a tea so you don’t have to wait until it’s ready” You heard Quinn’ words and turned to see him sitting on the couch and reading a book.

“Thank you” You grabbed the cup and took a first sip.

“Also, I bought your favorite donuts. You have them on a plate next to the sink” You looked there and saw three chocolate donuts.

“You didn’t have to go to the bakery and buy them. I would eat something from the fridge” 

“But I wanted” He shrugged. 

You took the plate and mug and sat next to him on the couch. You started scrolling your phone while eating to occupy your mind. You wanted to turn on the tv and watch your tv show but you were too scared. The atmosphere in the living room was tense and the last thing you needed was another argument.

“You can turn on the tv. I don’t mind and you know it” Quinn said, not even bothering to look at you from the book he was reading. 

“It’s fine. I’m almost done” You replied.

After 5 minutes, you finished your breakfast and went to wash your plate and mug. You were doing this longer than always. Everything not to start the conversation about what happened between you in these past two days. You turned off the water and took a deep breath. Quinn finished a chapter and put his book back on the coffee table. 

“I think we need to talk about what happened” He started.

“Yeah, we need to” You replied and sat again on the couch trying to keep your distance. 

There was a silence between you two. None of you wanted to start this unpleasant conversation. 

“I think we should start from the beginning” Quinn took a deep breath. “Why were you so mad after the argument?” 

“Are you serious?” You looked at him and you saw that he didn’t have a single clue. “You said that I’m not doing anything. I get it, you might not see it but I’m cleaning the whole apartment. I’m cooking for you. I’m always washing your suits. I’m doing everything for you to make your life easier so you don’t have to do it and focus on hockey” 

“I never asked you for that” He replied.

“I know, but I’m your girlfriend and I want you to have everything done so you can rest after games” You fought back.

“Okay, I’m sorry. I understand why you got mad but I never asked you for that. Although I really appreciate it. I never saw you doing this and I took everything for granted. It was wrong from my side and I’m truly sorry” Quinn grabbed your hand. “I’m really sorry, I just… I don’t even know what I was thinking when I said it. As I’m thinking now, you’re doing everything here. Sorry for saying that”

“Thanks for saying this but it would be nice if you would start noticing it. It really hurt me when you accused me of not doing anything” You squeezed his hand. 

“I will. I promise to be a better boyfriend and be grateful for the things you are doing. I guess… No, no excuses. What I said was wrong and I need to be better for you. You deserve the world” He brought your hand and placed a kiss on top of it.

“Okay, we sorted things out, it’s time to do something different” You tried to stand up but Quinn stopped you.

“We have to talk about what happened yesterday when we had sex. I know you don’t want to but I need to know for the future” 

“Quinn, drop it. It’s embarrassing” You covered your face in your hands.

“It’s not. We have the word to use it. I just want to know what I did wrong to push you to say it” He gently grabbed your wrists to look at your face. “Please”

“It was too much. I felt overstimulated and overwhelmed by your actions. I needed to cum really badly but at the same time I was too fucked and I said it so you could stop. I’m sorry for this” You said and looked at your legs. Quinn placed his fingers under your chin and you were forced to look at him. 

“Don’t apologise. You had full right to say it. I should be the one to apologise for pushing you too much” 

“I like when you’re rough and dominant but I guess orgasm denial is not my thing” You joked and heard him laughing.

“I’ll remember for the next time. I’m really sorry for the past two days. I was terrible for you” He admitted. 

“Stop it. It was just a misunderstanding between us and things like this happened. Glad we could sort things out” You smiled. 

“Are we alright?” Quinn asked you.

“We are alright” You leaned and pecked his lips. “How about staying on the couch all day and just enjoying the moment of peace?” You proposed.

“I’m up for it” He kissed you again. 

Quinn laid on the couch and pulled you closer to him so could place your head on his chest. You were listening to his heartbeat while he was scrolling through Netflix to find a movie to watch. You two laid in comfortable silence while a movie was played in the background. From time to time, Quinn was placing kisses on top of your head. You were glad that you two were back on the right track. 

[haveihitanerve]

no it was amazing!!!! I think you defo just stared at it for too long I thought it was great.

Anyway, i don't actually have an ao3 account yet (ik ik, im working on it, but maybe once everything settles down and it actually is confirmed that it'll stay a private personal website or smth) so no worries there!

Billy is actually hilarious to me and i need to write more about him being and specificall /not/ being adopted i think thats amazing,

and the frown/grunt stuff is awesome, i need that list immediately!!! (please) and maybe... perhaps... pls, i would love to maybe also be allowed to use it in a few fics if you'd permit it

anyway it was amazing and brilliant and hilarious and the poor league we make them go through so much whiplash and pain when it comes to secret identities with the bats but LOL! its all good fun and they deserve some panic from time to time,

thank you for writing it! Bye <3

Okay so wait you guys all know that thing that teachers or parents do were they forget that they don't have to speak in like a baby voice all the time and accidentally interact with grown adults in the same manner they do with a child right? Okay so imagine that- but with Batman and the Justice League

Like-

Hal and Barry are arguing and suddenly Batman goes, “boys, thats not very nice is it?” in like a kid voice

Or Oliver is complaining about getting patched up after a fight and Batman chides, “You take the hit you gotta take the stitch baby,” 

Or Clark is mumbling something and Bats goes, “Speak up sweetheart, lets use our speech properly yeah?”

Or Diana accidentally punches a man in the face when hes already down. Batman tsks, “Come on darling, what did we talk about? One hit only.”

Or Oliver is leaving for a mission and Dinah kisses him goodbye and then he walks away, only for Batman to go, “Say bye bye!” 

AGDJFDYSGUKSRHGBDF

Just please imagine their faces for me.

And Batman grimaces lightly afterwards every time and just leaves and the League is flabbergasted

[wynnerwynner]

𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐄

aemond targaryen x fem!royce-targaryen!reader

synopsis: after aemond made a scene toward his wife's estranged family at dinner, he seeks her out to apologize and make a daring promise.

request: no

warnings: brief discussion of violence

wc: 1.1k

A knock came from the door. Y/N did not rise from where she laid on the bed. They knocked again.

“Y/N,” Aemond called from the other side. “Y/N—open the door, for Gods’ sake.”

She could hear conversation between him and her guard, but could not discern it.

Aemond was growing irritated.

“I apologize, Your Highness,” Ser Andry said as the door swung open. “I tried to—”

The door slammed shut before he could finish his sentence, the wood rattling against its hinges. She must stop slamming it so much herself. She was not her father.

Aemond took a couple steps into the room. Slowly, he drew closer to the bed.

“I couldn’t help but notice your leaving without a word from our dinner.”

Aemond rounded the bed, coming into view of her open eyes. He sat on the edge of it, staring at her.

“Y/N,” he said simply.

“What you did,” she spoke softly, staring off, “really hurt me … Aemond.”

“That was never my intention.”

Y/N sighed through her nose, adjusting her head against the pillow.

“My uncle is a prick. So are his children.”

When her eyes flicked to him, he froze.

I am his child, her eyes so easily said.

Once again, Aemond was reminded that he did something the opposite of his intentions.

Y/N turned over, leaving her silk-covered back to him.

Aemond sat there, picking at the skin around his fingers, unsure of what to do next. Then, he laid on the bed next to her. He faced her back, staring at her pearl and brown coloured hair.

“I am sorry,” he said.

“The intention isn’t the matter,” Y/N said softly, “it is the outcome. The result of one’s actions is often always what matters. Whatever your intentions, I know it was to rouse them. You act as though I am stupid.”

“I do not think you stupid. My uncle ignored you. He has been ignoring you,” he reminded. “Does that not anger you?”

“It does,” she snapped. “But I know him better than anyone.”

Aemond paused.

“You deserve justice,” he said carefully.

“I do,” she replied. “Though, it is my justice to serve. Not yours. I understand it is difficult for you to accept because of the hatred that’s been instilled upon you regarding my step and half siblings, but they are not just your nephews and nieces. They are now your brothers and sisters—as much as they are mine. They’ve always been kind to me. I’d’ve hoped you’d seen that.”

Tentatively, he reached out and pulled a curly strand of brown and pearl hair over her shoulder.

Y/N turned over to face him. For once, he was the nervous one.

She struggled to understand how she’d explain the complexity that was her genealogy.

“I …”

Her mouth bobbed as she choked on words, each planned sentence making less sense than the last. After nearly a minute of him patiently waiting for her to speak, she decided it didn’t matter if he thought her insane. He could label her a witch. He could look at her the same way the court looked at Helaena and it wouldn’t matter. If she lost yet another person who was supposed to love her, it wouldn’t matter this time.

“My mother and father—their blood of the First Men and Old Valyria, gifted me the ability to empathize. I can … I can feel other people’s emotions, though I cannot manipulate. The wind and the grass have their own emotions. So does the wood of this bed and the threading of my nightgown. I can feel everything. I can feel men as far as the Wall.”

Y/N found herself spewing her deepest secret, speaking faster than her brain could comprehend. She’d never spoken of her gift to anyone but Helaena, especially not to this depth.

“My father often feels like—like shame and disappointment. It is why he goes on these adventures and neglects me. Why he tries to be a father to his other children. He’s afraid of me—of what my existence represents.”

Y/N was ready for him to bleed her out in her own bed. But the knife never left its holster. Instead, his mouth opened,

“And what do I feel like, Princess?”

She blinked, then mumbled, “Sorrow.”

Aemond’s eye looked from one of hers, to the other. “And what?”

“Rain,” she whispered absently. “You’ve always felt like rain.”

She watched his expression change in the minuscule way it did when he turned inward.

His hand came up to her cheek, his thumb stroking the skin of her cheek.

“I can get you justice,” he said.

It would only take a word and he’d conspire against the lives of her father’s entire family. One word and Dragonstone would explode.

“I do not wish death,” she whispered.

“I can make you their Queen.”

He said it so casually, she couldn’t believe it.

“You mustn’t make such complex promises, Aemond.”

“You should know by now, dear wife, I don’t make promises I cannot keep.”

She got the urge to slap him, though she refrained. How dare he say such a thing?

“And I’m to believe you’d let me sit atop the throne? Higher than even you? How would that work? My father gave up his seat—there is no way, in this realm, that I’d wear that crown on my head. That is not what my uncle wishes upon his death.”

“What my father wishes is not important,” he said with irritating calm. “Have you never dreamed of what it would be like to look down on Daemon? To look down on all those who have wronged you?”

Y/N stared at him, brows narrowed. She licked her lips before reminding, “I’d be looking down on you.”

“You understand, just as I, that family is sacred. Unlike my mother, you understand how to keep our children on the throne. You do not play, as she does.”

“And what would the people think?”

“You are of the First Men. You have advantage.”

“Aemond, I do not wish to sit before my own council in a time of need, all for them to talk amongst themselves!” she emphasized. “This is ludicrous.”

He sat up. “It is truth.”

“No, it is delusion,” she raised from the pillow.

Aemond assessed her before leaning in slowly to leave a lingering kiss to her cheek. Then, he leaned toward her ear and whispered,

“I’d burn them all if it meant securing the throne.”

He pulled away slowly and retreated from the room. Even after the door had closed, Y/N sat staring at the door.

[amirasainz]

Oh, I'm sorry, but my ideas for Leclerc's stepsister are in my head and there are so many of them, I don't have the nerve to send them all, but... I just want her to be very different from baby Sainz, she was very independent, hardly accepted help, was a little (and sometimes a lot) shy, defiant, but at the same time for the Leclair brothers she was a princess, and their parents wanted to enjoy the fact that everything was fine

With love from CH 💜

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

- xoxo babygirl ♥️

No Part 2!

Independent, but Loved

It was a typical sunny afternoon in Monaco, and the house was alive with the sound of chatter and laughter. Yn was sitting cross-legged on the couch, her manicured nails clicking against her phone screen as she scrolled through her social media feed. The comments on her latest post were already piling up.

@queenYnislife: “She fixed her car and still looks better than me. HOW??”

@monaco_royalty: “Yn, the real princess of Monaco. Bow down, everyone.”

She smirked at the comments and tapped her nails thoughtfully against her chin. "You know," she said, her voice laced with playful sarcasm, "I should start a DIY YouTube channel. 'Fixing Cars with Yn.' I'd show everyone how to slay while being a mechanic."

From across the living room, Arthur groaned. "Yn, you didn't fix the car."

She raised an eyebrow at her 19-year-old stepbrother, her dark brown eyes sparkling with mischief. "Excuse me, mechanic Arthur. I literally fixed it myself. My nails were covered in grease for days!"

Lorenzo, the oldest at 25, laughed as he walked into the room, carrying a tray of drinks. "Oh, princesa, you really think that car is still the same one?"

Yn frowned. "What do you mean?"

Arthur leaned forward, unable to suppress his grin. "We got you a new car."

Her jaw dropped. "No, you didn't!"

"Yes, we did," Lorenzo confirmed with a shrug, his grin widening. "Do you honestly think you ‘fixed’ a blown engine with a wrench and some nail polish remover?"

Charles, who had just walked in after a training session, leaned against the doorway with an amused look. "To be fair, you were very convincing with your grease-smudged selfies."

Yn stared at her brothers, utterly scandalized. "Wait a second. You mean all my TikToks about ‘fixing’ the car were based on a lie?"

Arthur snorted. "Pretty much, yeah."

"You guys distracted me?" Yn accused, pointing a perfectly manicured finger at Charles.

Charles threw his hands up in mock surrender. "Guilty. But it was Lorenzo's idea!"

Lorenzo chuckled, clearly unbothered. "You deserved a better car, princesa. That old one wasn’t safe anymore."

Yn crossed her arms and pouted, her glossy lips forming a perfect little scowl. "You could have told me instead of treating me like a clueless baby."

"You're not clueless," Arthur said quickly, his tone softening. "We just wanted to make sure you were safe. You know we only do these things because we care about you, right?"

Her pout melted into a small smile. "Fine. But I'm still mad that you lied to me."

"We'll make it up to you," Charles promised. "How about dinner on me tonight? Wherever you want."

"Anywhere?"

"Anywhere."

Yn grinned, her previous annoyance already forgotten. "Okay, but you’re paying for dessert too."

"Deal," Charles said, ruffling her hair.

---

That evening, as they all sat around a table at Yn’s favorite restaurant, their parents, Pascal and João, joined in on the fun. Pascal raised his glass, a proud smile on his face. "To my incredible children. I love seeing how well you all take care of each other."

"Even if it means pulling off elaborate car heists," Yn teased, earning a round of laughter from everyone at the table.

João, always the peacemaker, smiled warmly at her. "They just want to make sure you're happy and safe, filha."

"I know," Yn said, her voice softening. "And I love you guys for it. But don’t think this gets you off the hook for messing with me."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Great, here we go."

Yn smirked, leaning back in her chair like the queen she was. "Just wait until I prank you back. The internet will love it."

Lorenzo groaned. "Please, no more viral chaos."

"You should know by now," Yn said with a wink, "I am chaos."

Charles sighed dramatically. "And we wouldn’t have it any other way."

As the evening went on, the teasing and laughter continued. Yn, their sarcastic and fiercely independent little sister, was their princess. And while she might never let them forget their sneaky car replacement, the love and bond between them was unshakeable.

They were, after all, family.

[galaxy-fleur]

⋆Midnight Rendezvous⋆

Pairing: Post-RE4R!Leon/gn!reader.

Summary: It's only natural to miss and long for the one you love, regardless of how accustomed you are to being apart from them. One lucky phone call can mean so much more when it's an unexpected surprise. For you and Leon alike. Or: Quick smutty drabble for @thatpyramidthing that turned into a one-shot, which then turned into a full-blown fic. Oops!

Word Count: 4k words.

Notes: Established relationship, phone sex, mutual masturbation, smut with feelings. Suspension of disbelief because people were not using their phones like this in 2000's lmao.

Credit: Divider by @/saradika-graphics

For you and Leon, spending extended periods of time apart was not an exception but rather a tried-and-true routine. That was just the nature of his job, and it couldn't be fought or challenged, only accepted and adapted to accordingly. The only thing you could do was cherish what time you did get to spend together.

This particular assignment of his was the same as any other. While you had no expectations for him to call, you can't help but beam once you see his name appear on your phone screen. Waisting no time at all, you quickly fall back into bed and answer the phone, feeling a little bit too excited for what is likely going to be a brief check-in given how busy he is normally when he's gone. Still, him calling at all is enough for your heart to race, and although it was late at night, you didn't mind at all.

For him, you'd jump up at 4 am if you had to.

"-Hey."

It's painfully obvious he has no idea what to say, probably just wanting to hear you speak more than anything else. The sound of his voice ringing in your ear makes you smile a little, even if his greeting was almost comically abrupt. Then again, you did not expect him to make a lovey-dovey speech for you or anything. That's just not the type of man Leon was, and you had no qualms with that. Moreover, he was probably very tired, anyway. You weren't about to complain over him not sounding joyful enough when he already made the effort to call you in the first place.

"Hi," you reply, shifting to lay flat on your back, your gaze staring up at the ceiling. Without his warm body here to cuddle up to, your bed felt a bit too large for your liking. However, expressing such a thought outloud was way too sappy-sounding, even for you. So, you kept the sentiment to yourself. "Did not expect you to call. Did you get a free moment?"

An ocean away, Leon slouches into his own hotel bed, cluttered with belongings haphazardly thrown abound with not much care for hospitality, his phone in his hand. What he does know, however is that he wanted, no, needed you to be over here, with him, right now. But, alas, that's a wish too ambitious to be granted. So he settles for the next best thing. And hearing your voice is definitely no reason to complain about.

He takes a deep breath, almost feeling as if his physical distance from you is the main cause of the exhaustion seeping into his bones. He missed your voice, touch, even your scent. It wasn't until he spoke to you again that he realized how much he had missed you.

"Yeah, I was surprised, too. The job's done, but they can't take me back to base yet because of the weather. So I'm just stuck here until further notice." He hesitates for a moment before adding, his voice taking on a more softer tone: "…Are you in the mood to keep me company?"

"-Is that even a question?" You laugh slightly, shaking your head, although he obviously couldn't see it from a phone call. Your reaction causes him to smile and chuckle to himself as well. God, he missed hearing you laugh. "How your mission went, by the way? Everything okay?"

Really, mission talk? His expectations were slightly higher than that.

"It was fine. Same bullshit. A bunch of bastards getting what they deserve." A part of him almost wants to act as though he's not truly alone in this dimly lit room, so he lets out another breath and turns over to lie on his stomach. It was hard to feel cozy when nothing about this place felt like home. Your voice helped with that, though. "I'm more interested in talking to you."

He hears you laugh under your breath again at his unenthusiastic answer. It wasn't necessary for him to say it outloud for you to understand that he was not interested in discussing work. Not that you blame him.

"The feeling's mutual, trust me," you murmur, a small smile audible in your voice. "Not to rush things before they happen, but I've been planning on making that braised steak for you when you get back. You know, the one you liked on Thanksgiving."

The notion of some homemade food instantly makes him feel a little more excited. The mere thought causes his tired eyes to light up a bit and his mouth to water. Guess men really don't need much to be happy, huh? What can he say, few things bring as much joy as a homemade meal from the one you love. Especially when he compares it to quick tasteless meals he got by with on the job.

"Oh really now?" His voice now has a somewhat lighter lilt to it, his words gradually regaining some of their emotion. "-Because that sounds like you're trying to butter me up for something."

He teases, but the excitement in his voice is very much genuine. You laugh, this time a muffled giggle, and the sound promts a small, warm smile to make its way onto his lips as he closes his eyes and concentrates solely on your voice through the speaker. This was nice.

"Is it so odd that I want to treat you to something?"

"-No, it's not odd. It's sweet. I appreciate it. I really do," he corrects softly, quietly expressing his appreciation. For a man who has endured far too much hardship for his age, it was refreshing to have someone care for him in such a simple yet meaningful way. After a brief peaceful pause, he speaks again in a somewhat quieter voice, nervously drumming his fingers on the bedsheets: "...Hey, can I ask... can I be a bit selfish with you for a second?"

The way he fidgets and murmurs out his request is almost bashful; it's a part of him that, all things considered, feels a little strange even to him. But he can't help it. You make him anxious, but not in the stuffy, claustrophobic way he's accustomed to. This type of anxiousness feels good. Exciting. A welcome contrast to the blood-curdling anxiety that was his unspoken partner on the job.

"How so?" You inquire, curiosity evident in your voice. You were oceans away - literally - so it's not like there was much for you two to do except talk. A part of him was honestly just going to ask you to stay on the phone with him until he falls asleep. It's a kind of a dumb request, which makes him embarrassed, but he doesn't really want to back down from it anyhow.

Leon bites his lip, slightly perplexed on how to go about it without just asking you upfront. He wasn't good at this whole 'subtlety' thing.

"I, uh… I just wanted to ask you to talk to me a little more. For a while, I mean." He pauses, lets out another sigh, and then shifts in his bed into a more comfortable position. To hell with this, he might as well just spill the beans to you now. "My mind's just filled with… crap. I’m tired. The 'I could sleep for a week straight' type of tired. But I know I’ll just end up tossing and turning for hours instead. I just... your voice would help."

You chuckle at that, the sound uplifting, as at least you're not bewildered by his request. He knows you'd gladly do a lot more than just talk for him if you were actually here. Which makes the whole separation even more difficult to deal with. He shifts onto his back, his gaze now fixed on the ceiling as he lays his head back against the pillow with a soft sigh.

"Well... I wish I could have you laying on top of me so I could play with your hair, but... I guess us just talking on the phone will have to do for now."

He feels a small, enjoyable shiver from the mental picture you conjured up for him. The sense of contentment he's always felt when you did that is something he knows by heart now. His brain always seemed to just shut itself down, nothing for him to focus on except for the sensation of your soothing touch in his hair. God knows he'd kill to have that right now.

"Yeah. You really know what to do to make me feel all better… I hate being apart like this." He shifts again, feeling a little restless due to your words and his own thoughts making him long for you ever more. He hesitates for a moment, his heart racing as he imagines your touch. If he tries hard enough, he swears he can nearly feel the ghost of your fingertips combing through his hair. "Keep going. Tell me something else."

His voice comes out a bit muffled, and he is inadvertently tightening his grip on the phone a little, almost as if it'll bring him closer to you, somehow.

"Like what?" You ask without hesitation. Well, it's better than you playing a guessing game with him, at least. You were notoriously horrible at those, anyways.

Leon takes a deep breath while he clumsily mimics your touch by idly running his fingers through his hair. His hands are not comparable to yours at all. They're rougher and completely different in size. He drops his hand back onto the sheets with a small, frustrated huff.

"Anything. Just... keep talking. Your voice, it’s…" He clears his throat and considers the precise words he should use here. He's sure on where he is going with this, either. He simply knew that he needed to hear you, and that this need was gradually developing into a full-on craving that was desperate to be satisfied. "I want to hear more of it. And... what you’d do to me if you were here."

That's subtle enough, he thinks. He's fine with you being the one to decide on the way to interpret him. He just wanted to listen to you.

But, admittedly, his brain had other ideas.

As Leon closes his eyes, his mind is racing with countless ideas, none of which are as innocent as a simple cuddle or a hand stroking through his hair. He imagines your weight settled on top of him, steadying him, your legs wrapped around his waist, your hands holding onto his shoulders as your bodies mold and move together, skin to skin, with nothing but your presence there to fill his head with. Your sweet voice whispering all the things he wants to hear, your warm breath waffling over his ear.

All the ways in which you hold him, touch him, want him.

Your voice, which sounds nearly muffled through the pleasant fog buzzing in his head, jolts him out of his fantasy.

"Oh. ...Ohhh," you draw out, the realization clear in your voice. He almost snorts in endearment. Well, at least you caught on. His heart flutters in his chest with wordless excitement as the thought causes heat to rush to his face. Nearly subconsciously, he reaches for the other side of the bed with his free hand, almost as if you would be there. Which, of course, you're not. Much to his disappointment. "We're not... talking about cuddles here, are we?"

The tone of your voice changes, and Leon's breath catches a little. He can imagine how flushed your cheeks probably look, how your heart is beating a little faster at the realization. At this point, he was too worked up to restrain himself. Besides, the cat's out of the bag now. Not much point in walking back on his own words. Biting his lip, he lets his fingers slowly slide down his abdomen as he contemplates your words. Would you be up to what he has in mind? He hopes you would.

"No. No we’re not." He reaches for his belt and slowly starts to unfasten it. The button on his jeans is next. Then the zipper. The release of some tension causes him to inhale sharply, feeling the cool air against his skin, a small shiver running up his spine. He closes his eyes. "Keep. Talking."

His tone is direct, curt, rough. It's the same one often uses on the job, perfect for giving out clear orders in the heat of the moment, but using it under these circumstances definitely hits a little different. Especially for you. He can hear your breath quicken just a tiny bit, wordlessly reassuring him that you are, indeed, just as into this as he is. He smiles a little at the thought, feeling both relieved and little amused. He can imagine you lying there, your mind running hundred miles an hour to come up with a response while holding the phone up to your ear. He wonders if your other hand is wandering south now, too.

"Well I'd, uhm..." He lets you take your time and get your bearings, not hurrying you further. Hell, he's perfectly fine with you pulling out of this if it just wasn't clicking for you. He made his intentions clear. Now it was up to you to make the call, whatever it was. On any other day, he'd be the one getting all awkward over talking of these things outloud, but today, his mind is focused solely on your voice coming through the speaker. He hears you sigh, a sound steadying, and he feels himself smile. There you go. "I'd... want to kiss you. Long. Until we're both out of breath. And you get that dazed look in your eyes. You look so beautiful when you get like that. And just from me kissing you, too."

Leon listens to every word with keen interest, his eyebrows raising as you create a vivid picture in his mind for him to mull over. It was relatively tame, but it was a good starting point. Not to mention genuine. He can almost sense the warm touch of your lips against his, the taste of you on his tongue. You calling him beautiful was a nice cherry on top, making his breathing quicken in turn.

With his movements jerkier and clumsier than usual due to the excitement that was now steadily flowing through his veins, he quickly pulls his shirt over his head. He doesn't really look where it lands, just throwing it somewhere to the side with zero regard for decency. Not like it matters.

With his eyes still closed, he moves his hand slowly down his bare chest, grazing each ridge of his abs with his fingertips before lowering it further. He tries to mimic the manner in which you would touch him from memory. It's not a flawless attempt, bit it's good enough in his books. He can't help but groan softly, finding himself wanting to press into his own touch, if only to feel even the fraction of how your affection would feel like upon his battered body.

"And then?" He prompts, his voice lower now, charged with underlying tension hanging in the air. He knows full well that you can probably sense the hunger and anticipation he's not trying very hard to conceal. He wishes he could actually see you right now. But, alas, this will have to do.

"-What are you doing right now?" Your voice breaks him out of his momentary fantasy, his heart picking up speed in his chest as he focuses on you: every little change in your breathing, the dip in your tone, the words you choose to say to him. He hears you swallow before continuing: "What would you have me do if I was there? I could... y'know, go from there."

His heart swells with affection as he laughs a little. You weren't very slick. Then again, you never were. He liked you for that. It was painstakingly clear that you were just eager to hear exactly what he was up to. He was happy you were enjoying yourself.

He moves again, lying on his side, and switching the phone to loudspeaker while resting it on the cushion next to him before sitting back up to get comfortable. His own breath comes out shakily now, charged with rising arousal. Slowly, his other, free hand moves up his stomach, stopping at his chest. He huffs softly as he imagines your touch.

"I’d… I’d have you sit here." He moves his hand up to one of his pectorals and squeezes slightly as he pictures your fingers squeezing at his flesh instead. The action, along with his imagination, makes him bite his lip again, sucking in a breath through his nose. "Right in my lap."

He can’t help letting out a quiet 'fuck...' as he imagines you on top of him, holding his face in your hands as you kiss him, long and deep. Oh, what he wouldn't give just to have you close and to feel your lips against his again. He misses you so much that it's a little humiliating, but his mind is too hazy to care. No, all he cares about is you touching his bare skin with your hands, stroking the rising flames of his desire with every cares. Lost in the fantasy of your hand taking the place of his own, his hand slides higher up and touches his chin, causing sparks to bloom on his skin as he tilts his head back. He'd be just as pliant with you here, if not even more so. Just to feel wanted by you.

His mind is buzzing from the faint sounds of your own breathing coming through the speaker, which he can hear stuttering and quickening through the delightful fog filling his head. He doesn't push you into talking if you dont want to. However, he is well aware that you are not merely listening to him while innocently laying in your bed. He knows you well enough now to catch onto your state of arousal through the change in your breathing alone. He likes the thought of you doing the same as him right now. He hears some muffled shuffling on the other end of the line, something akin to bed covers being tousled around before you reply to him.

"On your lap," you repeat, almost as if testing out the idea in your head. Your tone is tight, and he can hear you take a single steadying breath before continuing: "I'd like that."

"Good," he finds himself responding, a faint smile on his lips. It's a small encouragement, just to let you know he's very much enjoying himself. To his surprise, you continue without any further promting from him.

"-I'd love to treat you after you get back. Just have you lay back and feel good while I take care of everything. Relax. You deserve it."

Your comments cause Leon's breath to catch abruptly, and he lets out a small, trembling gasp. He was not ready to hear something like that front you right now. In the best way possible. He is able to practically sense your presence and the grounding weight of your body upon him. As he runs his hand back down his chest and over his abs, they begin to tremble slightly.

"Fuck…" He groans lowly again, his brows drawing together in concentration as he pictures you in his lap. Your warmth against his hardening length, the way your hips would push against his.

His other hand mindlessly slides down as he palms himself through his jeans, his breath stuttering at much-needed stimulation. His hips jolt to press up firmly into his touch, imagining it's your hand instead of his own. He visualizes your fingers moving slowly down his chest. You kissing him all over as you usually do, leaving a trail of warm kisses down his hips and abdomen. He shivers and curses under his breath as the heat coiling in his gut only gets stronger.

"Leon?" It takes all of his inner strength not to whimper in response to your voice, which sounds both uncertain and needy. God, you just had to say his name of all things, huh?

"Keep going. Tell me more," he pants out softly, his voice rough with need. "Would you touch me?"

You laugh at that, and the sound makes him chuckle in response, his heart strangely light in his chest despite the intimate mood. You both sound so breathless. He likes that.

"Is that even a question?" You repeat the same thing you told him just minutes prior, and he can't help but snort. You got him there, he'll give you that. Though, your lighthearted playfulness soon shifts back into hushed arousal. "...Everywhere. Would love to touch you all over."

He swallows.

"Oh yeah? Seems like we both have the same idea."

You pause for a long time, and just as he's about to encourage you to speak your mind or reassure you, you beat him to it. And, boy, do you catch him off-guard.

"Just... Imagining riding you slowly. Make us both really feel all of it, every touch. I want to kiss at your neck, too... taste your skin, feel you shiver. And have my hands roaming all over you, too. Want to treat you right. Feel you."

...Oh, damn.

Leon moans at your words as he squeezes his length through his jeans a little. You just set his mind into overdrive. It's everything he wants and more. Your hands on his skin, your lips trailing warm, open-mouthed kisses down his neck, making him forget anything and everything but you and your touch. The way your hips would move against his, slowly and sensually, drawing out the pleasure until it becomes unbearable. At this point, his dick is practically aching to be touched, throbbing in the confines of his jeans.

"Jesus," he breathes out, a small, breathless chuckle following suit. Needless to say, you have him wrapped around your finger, even miles upon miles apart. He wouldn't have it any other way. "Keep talking like that and I'll lose it."

"Maybe I want to hear you lose it," you suggest to him softly, almost like you were testing the waters with what you could say to him. The idea makes him want to laugh. You didn't need to worry about a single thing with impressing him.

He quickly reaches for the waistband of his jeans and tugs them down just enough to free himself from the stiffling fabric. He exhales a shuddering breath as cool air hits his heated skin, a sense of relief accompanying the movement. He wastes no time wrapping his fingers over his cock, slowly stroking himself, still imagining your hand in its place instead of his own. Meanwhile, his other hand slides back up his chest, following the trajectory your touch would follow according to his memory. As he imagines you playfully nibbling at the side of his neck and whispering more sickeningly sweet dirty things into his ear, he shivers and gently rolls his thumb over his nipple.

"...Wish you were here," he exhales. He's losing himself in a fantasy that you two have created thus far, and it's getting easier and easier for him to just speak without hesitation or embarrassment. "Want your hands on me. Hips, stomach, chest, cock… everywhere."

In response, he hears you whine, and his mind generously conjures up a variety of possibilities for what you may be doing at the moment, each one more provocative than the last. What he wouldn't give to touch you right now, God. To be the reason behind those lovely sounds you are making.

"-So touch yourself," you instruct, your words barely above a whisper, your breaths coming out in small, shaky puffs of air, each one shooting straight to his groin. "Touch yourself like I would touch you right now. God, I would love to feel you under my hands..."

Leon shudders at your words, his cock throbbing in his hand as he instinctively bucks up, his breath faltering. A low groan leaves his lips, in equal measure in response to you as well as his touch. This time, he imagines you watching him, your own hand on yourself as well. Your lips parted and your cheeks flushed with arousal as you look at him dutifully.

"Fuck… I am,” he pants out, his hand moving a tad faster over his length. He senses himself leaking, the tip of his cock slick with precum. He spreads it around with his thumb, squeezes at the base, and then draws his hand back up. He bites his lip to stop another moan from slipping out, though, at this point it seems to be a futile effort. He's surprised he hasn't tasted blood yet. "Your hands would feel so good right now… so much better than mine…"

"Leon..." He hears you moaning out his name, and he swears that he almost came right then and there from the sound of it alone.

His free hand slides back up to his chest, gently squeezing at one of his nipples with the tips of his fingers. He pulls at it lightly, his brain picturing your teeth instead of his fingers. His back arches up towards the touch, a low groan leaving his lips.

"Tell me… where would you touch me?" He asks, his voice strained. "Be direct."

Your breath catches, as though you're taken aback by his question. But he was greedy, and he wanted more. He could feel his insides twisting and turning in the pit of his stomach, and not in a bad way. His spiraling brain almost couldn't handle the mental image of you touching yourself while on the phone with him, even though he was doing that exact same thing.

"Your chest," you murmur breathlessly, almost like the words were stealing your breath away as you shared them with him. And yet, you went on: "I want to touch your chest. Caress you all over... Squeeze at you, play with your nipples while I kiss the side of your neck and listen to you gasp and whine. Just like you like it."

Leon instantly visualizes your touch on him and lets out a deep wanton moan.

"Yes," he exhales. "Like that. Miss you..."

"-Miss you, too... so much." His head reels as you echo those words back to him in that breathy, almost whiny tone, and his hips automatically buck up into his hand in an attempt to feel what he perceives to be your touch.

He groans softly, running his hand over his chest, more to tease than to touch. Just as you said, he circles his nipple again and rolls the hardened bud under his thumb. Squeezing it just the way you would for him if you were here. Even if it's a poor substitute for the real thing. "Your mouth, too. Want it all."

Using his precum as lube, he begins to stroke himself quicker, rougher. He moves his hand up and down his shaft, squeezing a bit at the tip before returning back to the base in a familiar technique. Seeking the increasing pleasure coiling in his gut, he thrusts his hips up into his hand.

And as he hears every tiny sound of pleasure coming from your end, his desire for more only intensifies. You seem to be enjoying yourself just as much, stuttered breaths and muffled whines flowing through the receiver. He is saddened by the fact that he cannot see you in person at this moment in all your glory. But, this will have to do.

You exhale.

"Yeah," you encourage softly, your own voice breathy and hushed with arousal. "I'm right there with you."

"-Wish you were," he gasps out, his eyes shut tight as he wills himself to somehow bring this fleeting fantasy to life, however briefly. "Would feel so much better with you here."

"I am. Just close your eyes and focus on my voice. My hands stroking you, my mouth on your skin... Whatever you want. I'll give it to you. You deserve it."

Leon's already thin breaths come out in unsteady gasps as a result of your sweet encouragements. Your breathy and needy voice is somehow making him even more aroused than he already is, if that was even possible. His free hand descends to roam over his abdomen, primarily to visualize your hands mindlessly stroking his flesh. It's maddening.

"Fuck, you are too good at this…" He pants out, his hips thrusting up into his hand. Instead of continuing to trace over his lower abdomen, his hand reaches up to comb through his hair, just like you would, the delightful sensation sending jolts of pleasure directly to his cock. "Too good to me. Want to touch you, too. Whatever you want."

In order to give himself greater room to move around without experiencing any discomfort, he spreads his legs somewhat wider. He inadvertently starts to imagine you in a position between them, your head bobbing up and down as you take him in. His cock throbs at the mere thought, another droplet of precum dripping from its tip. Oh, he's lost it completely.

He listens to you groan quietly, and the realization that his words have the same impact on you as yours do on him makes him feel proud. The sound of your pleasure creates a fuzzy sensation in his head, blocking out all thoughts but you, you, you. His mind creates a fairly realistic image of what you are doing at the moment, even while he is itching to actually see you. And, God, was that picture irresistible.

"I want that too... Want to make you feel good."

Leon slightly squeezes the base of his cock at your whispered wants, another shudder rippling through him. He is acutely aware that he is getting close now, his balls drawing up tight and a growing coil of tension simmering deep in his gut.

"-Shit, I'm so fucking close," he pants heavily, his hips thrusting up into his hand steadily. He imagines you straddling him, riding him with all you have until you are both a gasping, trembling mess. Your hands wrapped snuggly over his neck and your lovely eyes on him the whole way through. The moan that comes out of him at the thought is borderline obscene as his head falls back, hot pleasure coiling in his gut until it's borderline unbearable. He does have enough sense in him left to warn you, though, however clumsy. Or maybe ask for permission. He isn't sure, and he is far too dazed to figure it out. "Jesus, fuck, going to cum-"

"That's alright, let go, I want to hear you," you coo at him softly through shaky puffs of air, a hint of urgency laced in your words. You were obviously getting impatient yourself while listening to him enjoying himself, whether that meant you were getting close or not. Either way, it was hot. "Cum for me, Leon. Please."

He didn't need to be told twice.

It only takes him a couple more rough strokes before he comes to a halt and shudders, his cock spurting ropes of his release into his hand and stomach, a broken gasp of your name leaving his lips in a desperate mantra before the pleasure slowly subsides. He's left panting, catching his breath from the pleasurable high of his orgasm as he plops back down on the bed, letting his body relax and gather its bearings.

"Jesus Christ, that was... wow..." He exhales, his voice ragged. As his mind gradually clears from the haze of pleasure that clouded his senses moments prior, he laughs softly, his voice full of tiredness and a hint of sheepishness. He turns his head to the phone, almost like he'd see you there. "You okay? Did you...?"

...He didn't even check if you came or not. Now he kind of feels like an ass.

"Y-Yeah. Just now." Because of your stuttering breaths, your words are a little unsteady. Whether you came with him or moments after, he doesn't really care. He's just glad you were left satisfied, too. Somewhat. Really, this was still more about him than you. He should fix that next time you do this.

He lets out a soft and warm chuckle at the thought. Next time. He was already thinking of next time, huh? Either way, that familiar subtle tremor in your voice makes him smile to himself, wishing he could reach out and stroke your cheek with the back of his hand right now.

"Good. I'm... I'm glad. Got worried there for a sec." He reaches over and grabs a tissue off his nightstand to quickly clean himself up. After tossing the tissue away, he leans back against the bed, feeling completely relaxed. "That was... something. Definitely needed that. Thank you."

A pleasant sense of calm washes over him as he sighs, closing his eyes. The subtle ache in his muscles and post-organasmic bliss is a welcome contrast to the constant tension he was dealing with lately.

"Happy to hear that." While he's unable to see you, he can still hear the smile in your voice, which makes him smile in turn. You take a deep, steadying breath, some rustling following suit as you probably clean yourself up and get comfortable. He didn't prod you. It didn't feel awkward at all when you were on the line with him. Despite his wish for you to actually be here.

"...I can't wait to see you again. To actually hold you, kiss you, make up for lost time," he promises, his voice unusually soft and intimate. "Tell you what, once I get back, we'll spend a whole weekend in bed, just the two of us. No phones, no work, no distractions. Just us."

His wistful smile is accompanied by the image of you in his bed, warm and cozy as you nuzzle up to him. God knows he didn't need anything more to be happy.

"That sounds lovely. I might just hold you to that," you giggle, those same familiar playful notes making their appearance again as you both come down from your highs.

"Hey... Do you mind staying with me on the line tonight? I don't... really want to hang up," he confesses, a bit embarrassed, but unwilling to just part with you so quickly. He can't help but feel a bit clingy.

"Funny. I was about to ask you the same thing."

He laughs at that, shaking his head.

"God, I love you."

"I love you more."

[loonysama]

I have to agree with everything above. I'm not saying the fic that made me want to stop writing was just because only 1.75% of hits got kudos, but I'd be lying if I didn't say how much that hurt, especially for imo one of the best fics I've ever written that I was already barely able to write due to such small kudos to hits ratios lately. I get that it might not have been something everyone was into, but damn. It made me feel like shit. I'm so grateful for everyone who has supported me over the last few years - especially those who have created art for my fics and read and left kudos on everything - but I think the sting of having my writing be unliked by so many people has been really hard to get over. It shot my confidence and I've had trouble writing ever since. And over the years, I have known several writers who have stopped writing altogether because of this, and even left the fandom because of it. I do not plan to do either, but to be honest, it has been a struggle not to be able to do something I really love doing because it just made me feel so bad to do it.

I wish so much that readers didn't use kudos as a measure of how much they like something. I wish so much that it meant, "Hey, it's so cool that you worked so hard on this so I could devour more content about my favorite ship without paying for it," rather than, "This was amazing, one of the most amazing things I've ever read, so I'm going to reward you with the coveted heart of approval I only use to let the most special of writers know they're the best because they deserve it more than everyone else." This can create competition amongst writers when there really shouldn't be. And more than anything, I wish I could just turn kudos off altogether, but I can't because every single kudo I get lifts my spirits just a little, and that's a really hard feeling to walk away from, even though I suspect most of them come from "guest" bots.

It is a dark truth, and writers aren't really allowed to talk about this because we are supposed to be so grateful for every single heart, and talking about this makes us come across as entitled. We provide a free service for our readers, and I consider a kudo to be a way to acknowledge that, and it costs readers absolutely nothing! In the US, we leave money in tip jars for practically everything. Kudos are tips you don't have to pay for. And it's not like anyone's keeping track and judging readers for leaving hearts for fics that might not be the pinnacle of greatness in their opinion. That's what bookmarks are for, and they can be made private. However, people do judge fics for not having that many kudos and some will skip over fics if the kudos-to-hits ratio is too low. So instead of rewarding only the very best fics with kudos, not leaving kudos actually hurts writers. Not to mention the very personal cost of putting ourselves out there and making ourselves completely vulnerable for everyone to judge us against our fellow writers. Many writers write about very personal things, and tbh, not getting kudos can feel like it's not just our writing being rejected, but ourselves.

So if anyone wants to accuse writers of feeling entitled for being upset about not getting enough kudos, please consider how entitled readers who don't leave kudos are for reading our free labor and not clicking a freaking button (that costs them absolutely nothing) in acknowledgment of the service we happily provide, and how ungrateful they are for not appreciating what we do. We don't have to post our writing. We could just "write for ourselves," but we don't; we share what we write with our readers because that give and take relationship should be rewarding for both writers and readers. But not getting kudos does more to discourage writers from writing altogether than to encourage them to provide more content. You wouldn't pay for a fancy coffee or overpriced cocktail drink without leaving a dollar in the tip jar, would you?

So at the very least, I wish people would stop making writers feel guilty for feeling this way, and I wish writers wouldn't buy into this way of thinking rather than valuing all of our hard work and countless hours that go into writing fanfic. Our feelings are valid; we're allowed to feel like shit when our hard work and vulnerability go unacknowledged for the mere reason that it was judged against someone else's work and found wanting. Wouldn't most readers feel that way if it was the other way around?

Is leaving kudos on fanfics not common courtesy anymore?

Something I've noticed on AO3 in the last two years is the lack of kudos and comments left on fanfics.

Fanfics have an increasing number of hits, but their kudos and comments remain minimal.

I understand that leaving comments is daunting, but kudos is the easiest thing you can do to show support and appreciation for an author.

Part of me wants to blame BookTok and the commercialized consumption of books.

Readers are more demanding and impatient for content, but they're quick to move on once a book is published. It's a constant demand for 'More, more, more' without appreciating and/or supporting authors. And these readers are now getting into fanfic.

I don't want to complain because it's not productive. But if you're new and getting into fanfic: Support writers.

Support means leaving kudos on AO3, and if you're able, leaving a comment. It's simple courtesy.

[parfaitblogs]

i have more than enough ❀ s. reid x reader

in which the holiday season is achingly difficult to get through, when you are spencer reid, who believes he is no longer allowed to enjoy them. 

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: hurt/comfort tags: established relationship. post prison!reid. word count: 2k a/n: and for my final act? the parfaitblogs special (post prison reid fic to a searows song). merry christmas from australia because it IS the 25th here!!! this is the end of my christmas advent calendar!! i had soo much fun writing these stories thank you to all that requested ♡

❄︎ advent calendar masterlist

He does not deserve a Christmas. 

Perhaps that is the only thing that runs through Spencer Reid's mind the second the Halloween decor filtered out of the stores, reindeer mugs entered them; while candy canes and Santa hats adorned every little item, and Christmas trees lit up every corner of every mall.

No matter what state he traveled to, he couldn't escape the festivities of the holiday season. He's pretty sure he's the only person who wants to. 

You waited for him. He feels immensely guilty for just how much waiting you've had to do all year. Waiting for him to go to trial, waiting for him to get out of prison, waiting for him to let you in again. 

Waiting, waiting, waiting.

You're waiting again. A Christmas tree that blandly sits empty and undecorated in the corner of your shared apartment; a Christmas roast you aren't sure if you'll even cook takes up too much space in your fridge; gingerbread cookies you promised your friends weeks ago remaining unbaked. 

He knew you were upset about it. His Christmas loving girlfriend forced to mute the celebrations of her favourite holiday because he couldn't find it in him to be excited about it. 

He didn't know how to fix it, really. 

You had tried everything to get him back into the Christmas spirit he's had for the past three years you've spent together. Baking with him, picking out the very Christmas tree that leaves the room smelling like a pine forest together, Christmas shopping for the presents he had no will to buy for his family and friends. 

Nothing had worked. 

"Spence?"

Sitting awkwardly at his — now — very minimally decorated desk, his head lifts from the papers in front of him, eyebrows frowning towards each other as his eyes land on you.

"Hi," he murmurs, putting the pen in his hand down in an effort to give you his full attention. He was getting better at that, these days. 

"I finished dinner," you tell him, fingers fidgeting with one another; a recent habit he had noticed you'd developed in the months between his arrest and release. "If you want to come eat."

He doesn't, but then again, he never does. And despite how awful he feels, he feels even more so for what he's putting you through, and the guilt that chews away at him is enough to will him to do small things — like eating — for you. 

"Yeah," he breathes out, and stands up from the desk, following you silently over to the meal sitting at the edge of the kitchen bench you had cooked for the two of you.

Silence overwhelmed you two as you ate, as it usually does. Sitting curled up beside one another on the couch, sharing a blanket and yet still feeling so distant from each other regardless. 

"Did you call your mom?" you ask him, and his fork pauses in the plate. 

Right. It's Christmas. The time for calling family members and sharing love for them during this supposed to be joyous time. 

"Not yet," he shakes his head. "I'll... get to it. Before Christmas is over."

"You have a week," you remind him, though it isn't to be passive aggressive at all. You genuinely wonder if he's forgotten the date of Christmas that has quickly crept up on you both.

"I know."

You stare silently at the coffee table after a short nod to his words, and you wrack your brain for things to say, just to keep him talking.

"Can I give you your gift before Christmas day?" 

He lifts his head, and you feel his eyes transfix on you.

"If you want."

You want him to want it too, but you aren't sure if that's a reasonable wish anymore. 

"I do," you nod, and quickly finish up your food, before you stand, and leave the room altogether. 

He places his plate next to yours on the coffee table — he'd remember to get to cleaning those later — just as you return, a square shaped brown paper gift in your hands, a purple ribbon tied in a bow around it. 

"You got me a square?" he asks you, and your heart warms at the teasing tone in his voice. He's trying. 

"Open it," you press, instinctively shaking his shoulder with both hands pressed up against it. 

"Okay, okay."

He's meticulous in pulling the plain wrapping paper off, and you almost want to open the gift for him. 

"Did you make this?" he asks you as he carefully pulls the square apart in front of your eyes, though he does already know the answer before you have a chance to start nodding your head. 

A Victorian Puzzle Purse situates delicately in his hands. Hands that pull it apart ever so slowly, taking note of every little drawn and painted detail on the paper, opening it up to a letter that he spent two minutes reading through — confirming that he was not only reading it once through. 

"Do you like it?" you ask him, almost hesitantly. 

"Victorian Puzzle Purse's were how lovers would communicate for Valentine's day," he says, instead of answering your question directly, as he neatly folds it back up into the intricate origami square it was originally when he pulled it out. "Sorry," he quickly adds, his eyes landing back on you. "That wasn't an answer. I do. I like it a lot."

"I know it isn't much, but I don't want to overwhelm you with gifts this Christmas. I'm honestly not even expecting anything big. We can just order food in and watch movies or something this year, if you'd prefer. You just have to promise me you'll at least let me put mistletoe up outside our bedroom, because it's kind of become tradition and... sorry."

He's staring at you, half dumbfounded, half in awe, as you realise you were rambling instead of sitting in the moment of him enjoying something seasonal, but you can't even find it within yourself to be frustrated at it. For he is letting a small smile grace his lips, and you're leaning forwards with a smile of your own, and for a second or more, he is not the shattered prison man, and you are not his distanced girlfriend. 

"You can put mistletoe outside our bedroom," he says, and you're breaking into an even wider grin.

"Really?"

"It's tradition."

You light up enough for there to be no need for a decorated Christmas tree in your apartment anymore, and you're threading your fingers through his hand to drag him up off the couch. 

Your gift to him remains on the coffee table as you lead him over to your bedroom door, prompting him to stay still, as you disappear to find the piece of familiar fake greenery. 

"Mistletoe!" you present it to him, and he takes it from you habitually, using the pin you also hand him and pinning it above your heads on the doorframe.

"I think we need to buy a new one," he says, hands dropping back by his side. His eyes are trained on you, but your own head is still tilted back, inspecting the faux plant. 

"I think we need to buy a real one," you answer conclusively, finally dropping your gaze to him. 

"Next year," he confirms. "Tradition complete?"

You shake your head. "The tradition ends with a kiss."

Hesitation follows your words, and you instantly regret them. 

It wasn't that you didn't kiss, or weren't intimate in any way. It's simply that it was on occasion now, and almost always motivated by something more important than a silly mistletoe tradition.

"It's okay," you cover your unwelcome disappointment with a smile. 

He ignores your reassurance. "It does end in a kiss, you're right."

"But we don't have to," you mumble.

"Yes," his hands encase your waist to do nothing more than to pull you closer to him. "We do."

"Not if you don't want to."

"Did I say that?"

You open your lips to respond, but the words die on your tongue. 

"What did I do to make you think I don't want to kiss you, angel?" he's frowning now, and you feel guilt settle in your chest. 

"Nothing, really. We just—um—don't kiss... as much. Anymore. Which is fine, by the way, and I can understand it. You're under no moral obligation to kiss me. Obviously."

His frown deepens. "I think we're experiencing a bout of miscommunication."

"What?"

"I thought you didn't want to kiss me," he explains, and suddenly, you're mirroring the confusion on his face. 

"Why would I not want to kiss you?" you ask him, incredulously. 

His shoulders slump at the question, and you force yourself not to fill the silence that follows.

"Prison," he replies, quietly. "I didn't think you'd really even want me once I got out of prison. You don't initiate anything anymore, either. I just assumed."

"I didn't initiate anything because I was waiting for you to initiate stuff."

"I can see that now."

"I didn't want to rush you," you tell him, as earnestly as possible. "I know prison was a lot, and you still haven't told me everything that happened, but I wanted you to not rush yourself. Or... us, I guess."

He swallows the lump of emotion that lodges in his throat. "I thought you were disappointed in me. Or—well, scared of me."

"No," your heart shatters, and you're sure he can hear it in your voice as your hands instantly cup his cheeks, fingers brushing over his cheekbones. "No, oh my God, Spencer."

"You shouldn't use the lord's name in vain. It's Christmas," he jokes, weakly. The smile you give him is weak, too.

"I was terrified for you. I was so worried about you in prison, and—and what they were doing to you in there. But never of you. Not a single part of me will ever be scared of you, sweet boy."

"I'm scared of me," he whispers, and his voice cracks in a way that has tears welling in your eyes. "I think differently, you know."

"And that automatically means I should be scared of you? Or makes you any less deserving of love?"

His silence is enough of a response. 

"I love you," you settle on telling him. "No matter what baggage you came back to me with. You deserve so much love, and I hate that you have been through so much. So much so that you believe yourself undeserving. You are not. You never will be. I will spend the rest of my life proving that to you, if I must. Or as long as you will let me."

"Forever," he replies, and you feel his hands close over your own on his face. "I will let you forever."

"Thank God. It'd be kind of embarrassing if I say all this and then you were to break up with me tomorrow," you say, and his cheeks stretch beneath your hands as he huffs a laugh.

"I won't break up with you."

"I wouldn't let you, anyways."

"Oh really?" his hands slide down to your waist once more. 

"Yeah," you confirm with a small nod, your own hands dropping to his neck, interlacing behind it, as you draw his head closer to yours. "You're stuck with me."

"I have not a word of complaint," he replies, and he's close enough that you feel the words tattoo your lips. "I love you."

And then he's kissing you, and there is an overwhelming amount of neglected feelings you had been missing poured into you, from his soul to yours. 

It was a kiss so unlike what you had grown used to in recent months. Fingers dug into your waist as a violent reminder of what you mean to him, and for the first time since May, you believed it. 

When he goes to pull away, you barely give him time to get air before you're chasing his lips again, and he tugs you impossibly closer with a laugh that vibrates against your face. 

You kiss him until your hands go numb behind his neck, and your legs begin to ache, and your waist is sure to have bruised in the shapes of his fingertips. Chest heaving and eyes full of more adoration than you think one human can have for another, you meet his gaze once more.

"Tradition complete."

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡

[scripts4dreamers]

Me and my one (1) friend who has also had their brain corrupted by the blight (dragon age) have been fighting about this for two days but I’m so sure I’m right, so I humbly present my thesis to you lovely people.

1. After the events of the Veilguard, if Rook and Neve ended up together, Neve tries to leave you.

LET ME EXPLAIN! (Spoilers for the Veilguard ending)

I love Neve. She’s my favorite romance from Veilguard, she’s an incredible character and she does not deserve all the hate she gets. Having said that, she does 1000% try and leave Rook.

The one thing we know about Neve, almost from the moment we meet her, is that she is not a believer. She doesn’t believe Solas is a god, at first, she doesn’t believe anyone will have her back, she doesn’t believe Minrathous will improve and she doesn’t believe she’s going to survive this job. But still she fights on, not out of a genuine belief that she can win, but because she has a soft spot for lost causes.

Neve has devoted her life to being the champion of lost causes. She tells Rook that, even if this job doesn’t get her, one of them will. She risks her life, day in and day out, in service of a city that has done nothing but hurt her. Neve believes she’s a dead woman walking, and all she wants to do is go down protecting the people of Dock Town because someone has to. Someone has to.

And then she meets Rook and Harding and now gods are real, and they’re destroying the world and oh well everything was always going to go down in flames, so why not help out? She’s always been a magnet for bad news, for bad luck, for the worst of humanity, so why not spend her last days fighting for what little good is left?

She tries to fight falling for Rook, but they’re everything she wishes the world could be. They’re the lifeline she’s been waiting for since before the world forced her to stop believing. They’re good and kind and full of life and how can she do anything but love them for that? But she’s already dead, they’re both already dead and she can’t survive another loss.

She throws herself into loving them only after she lost them to the Fade. Only after Harding/Davrin died. After her world already ended, because that’s when she really realizes how quickly it can all end and how much time she wasted pushing people away. The goddamn WORLD IS ENDING and the person you love is THERE and they’re REAL and they WANT YOU, so why not? What is there to lose? It’s easy to love someone when the world is ending. It’s easy to love someone when you’re both already doomed.

But then the world doesn’t end. The sun rises on a blighted Minrathous and they’re both still alive, and now she’s faced with rebuilding. There’s so much work to be done, she’s a bloody, scarred mess and the job she was brought in for is over, isn’t it? She’s not a cool noir detective who died saving the world anymore, she’s someone’s partner, someone’s friend and lover and those aren’t jobs she had ever prepared herself to take.

Suddenly, without the haze of panic and the urgency of stopping the gods, things look different. She needs a new apartment. Minrathous needs a detective. Life goes back to normal and Neve still isn’t a believer.

Of course, everyone says they’ll stay in touch. Bonds formed that can never be broken and all that, but Neve knows better. You don’t hang around once the party is over. You don’t give the world more ways to hurt you, more people to take. You don’t give people a chance to leave you.

So she leaves first.

She regrets it. She hates herself for it. She cries herself to sleep wondering how she could be such a coward, but she leaves. She packs a bag, writes a goodbye letter and leaves before morning.

Now, do I think her and Rook get back together? Absolutely I do. I just think that, with all the events of Veilguard happening in such a short time, there’s going to be some major questions for all the companions once the dust settles, and leaving before you can be left is Neve Gallus’ answer to those questions.

[crystaljellie]

Scott and Pearl analysis moment

Because I’m sick and tired of people mischaracterising C!Scott he is not evil!! Pearl does not hate him!! She’s bitter sure but she doesn’t hate him.

Starting with them in last life Pearl and Scott always sticking by each other always being there for each other, I’ve seen so many “Scott was using Pearl” because he wanted a life from her. Like he’s trying to live?? It’s different from Grian stealing a life from Scar and then tormenting him and giving him nothing in return. Scott does his absolute best to protect Pearl protect their house and spend time with her.

He’s a good friend. And he’s absolutely heartbroken when she dies, because Scott knew she was going to but he didn’t want her to go before him. And he definitely keeps his cool because Scott isn’t the kind of guy to go if the rail easily, the way you can tell Scott is angry is by how reckless or determined he gets. In third life he’s distraught by Jimmy’s death and then rushes in and dies quickly because he doesn’t want to be alone. And in last life he kills Ren because he killed Pearl. He’s doing it to avenge her.

He’s glad when he wins but he’s not upset when he dies either. He’s annoyed that he didn’t get to choose his own death but. He celebrates winning because he doesn’t have to lose anybody else.

And so jump to double life and all of a sudden the person he loves so much and has gone out of his way to protect doesn’t even take the time to go looking for him, so you can see why he’s upset. And it’s the biggest miscommunication moment ever because Pearl is expecting to go back and have Scott waiting with open arms for her, and she can’t explain to him and doesn’t understand what she did wrong, which tbh is nothing but that doesn’t make the way Scott feels invalid either.

And then it kind of all goes to shit, Scott’s more snappy and on edge this season because he won the last one and ya know winners trauma. And he honestly doesn’t want to win again so when Cleo suggests tormenting Pearl (I think that’s how it happens I don’t remember it might have been scar with the snow buckets first) he’s all for it!! Because he’s hurting!!

And pearl on the other hand is left alone and has no idea what to do with herself, because sure she can handle being alone but she can’t handle being alone like this, where’s she’s forced into isolation, she’s going crazy because she feels like everyone she loves has left her, she’s mad at Scott and she’s more mad at Cleo because she feels like Cleo has stolen him from her. And so she lashes out because it’s all she knows how to do here, and in a death game what’s a better form of communication than violence?

But she doesn’t want Scott to die not because she wants to live but because she still cares even if she doesn’t want to care. She wants Scott to hurt because she’s hurting, but like Scott in last life she can’t bare to see him die before her.

She’s winning this to prove herself to be someone who doesn’t need Scott. But she still cares so much and she hates it, that’s why she spends the first couple sessions trying to win him back.

And Scott is with Cleo but he feels alone too, because Cleo’s relationship with Martyn isn’t as strained as his is with Pearl. And he knows it’s his fault, he does. That’s why he starts trying to sabotage other relationships, so he doesn’t have to feel as bad.

That’s why he’s careful to stay alive, so he can make it up to Pearl in some way.

He avoids everything he can that might make him face that guilt. But he’s hurt and is stuck with all the blame placed on him. Everyone KNOWS it’s Scott’s fault Pearl is the way she is. But no one but Cleo acknowledges this which makes Scott more bitter, and honestly he’s a little bit scared of Pearl not that he’ll admit that to anyone ever.

But him feeling this guilt is why he kills himself at the end that and because he’s scared of winning again. But he knows he doesn’t deserve getting to where he’s gotten to, and with his self sacrificial nature he’s trying to make it up to her. If she watches him hurt and hurt and die, maybe she’ll feel better.

AND SHE DOES FORGIVE HIM!!! NOT BECAUSE SHE LIKES SEEING HIM HURT!! SHE HATES THAT PART!! SHE FORGIVES HIM BECAUSE SHE CAN SEE HOW MUCH HE CARES! And obviously she’s still a little bit bitter because like who wouldn’t be. But she forgives him and she can see he’s trying that he feels awful about it, so awful that actually kills himself.

And you can see how double life effects both of them moving forward, mainly Scott, he’s scared of hurting anyone the way he hurt pearl, so he goes out of his way to let his friend and allies kill him over and over so he can be of use to them, because he’s realised that his life, lives can be used as currency as friendship as a way to get people not to hate him. He’s putting himself on sale.

He does it in secret life too giving up his lives his hearts his safety, just to be of use. He can’t even bring himself to really care when people betray him, because hey he betrayed Pearl worse right?

Pearl is so much more unhinged after double life too so much more reckless. Because why try and stay hinged when you’re going to loose everything anyways?

And coincidentally all of pearls allies start dying before her, and Everytime it happens she’s just reminded of double life, of that tower, of everything bad that ever happened. And because of that she can’t bring herself to forgive Scott yet. Because she doesn’t feel loved yet.

And then wild life comes, and they team together again, and yes it starts with some bickering and fighting but they needed to get that out they needed to bring it up so they can let it go.

Pearl has her own issues with Gem that season sure, but she gets something close to closure with Scott. Not proper closure, because they’re in a death game, they don’t have enough time they never will. But she gets a real end, and gets a chance at a real friendship with Scott again. She even gives him her hoodie when he turns red. They stick together they’re friends again.

Pearl doesn’t hate him!! He doesn’t belittle her!! I keep seeing “oh Scott didn’t trust Pearl oh he’s treating her badly because he’s keeping her on a leash and not enabling her chaos!!” HES WORRIED ABOUT HER??? HE WANTS HER TO BE SAFE AND KEEP THE TEAM SAFE AND THE ONLY WAY IN SCOTTS BRAIN IS TO CONTROL??? HE DOESNT NOT BELIEVE SHE CAN DO IT HES JUST WORRIED FOR HER FUCK OFF MAN

Anyways, and then Scott dies before Pearl and she doesn’t have the time for a reaction.

It’s not over for them, it’s not close to being over, but it’s getting better. And they’re BOTH getting a chance to heal, not just Pearl, because Pearl wasn’t the only fucking person that got hurt.

Sometimes I wonder if people watch the series with their eyes closed and volume off because how could you ever believe that Pearl truly hates Scott?

[greenmango-kai]

lmao it's okay, I didn't mind the wait

spoilers

He's definitely not the best, but if you think of all the leaders that have been in power, they're not great either so compared to them senkuu is amazing. Senkuu cares so much about his friends (Tries to get Chrome to stay behind while he get the acid so science doesn't disappear, Saves Ruri (someone he's never met because he sees how much she's liked, for his own selfish gain but y'know, point stands)

I'm pretty sure he was the actual club leader in school before the petrification lol

Ryusui probably has more experience with leading larger groups (the Nanami fishing school, can't remember the name sorry)

When I was reading this I was definitely thinking of the 5 generals, they definitely counter and neutralise (words?) the others flaws, I think in the future the main village, KoS and TE will be like the worlds government or something like that which will be good because they've experienced things most people haven't (if the world comes back, not many people will experience the stone world)

I also feel like when Senkuu realises the Legal system is so messed up, he's going to rebuild the whole thing just so Hyoga and Homura get the sentence they deserve ("Do I have to do everything now? This is 10 billion percent boring.")

I Loved treasure island and I love that Hyoga respects women (That's what I took from him fighting Moz instead of Senkuu)

I've never actually read the manga, I'm an anime watcher (I'm sorry) I've been meaning to get the manga because Sai is just a little guy, I have seen a few panels online but I haven't seen it. However, I do want to see Taiju and Yuzuriha actually start dating because those two are perfect for eachother.

I'm happy talking about anything, I really don't mind :)

*eats a chip (crisps or fries) before handing them both back to you*

Happy holidays <3/p

Your honor they're homosexuals

[mrnightingale]

George doesn't know what the hell do with his face when he's not talking on the Cameos and I think it's pretty cute and funny because it's in those moments when I remember that, unlike Jayden who has more experience with the industry, Edwin is George's fucking first role.

And now I'm mad at Netflix again for taking such an amazing performance and role from him. He was absolutely brilliant impersonating Edwin and they took his work out of his hands. He'd spent a lot of time and effort studying his character, crafting his appearance, he did fucking ballet only to give Edwin his characteristic, elegant manners and way of habit the space. The level of comitement it's amazing. And he did it so well. So. Fucking. Well. That most of us didn't even thought for a bloody second the possibility of this being his first role. I'm still shocked. I still can't believe something like this happening.

Hate them so fucking much. I want to cry. They're destroying Art. The Corporations are destroying Art. They're taking all the work of people who love what they do and sacrifice a lot for doing it, because it's not easy working in the industry, and then spitting in their faces and throwing and kicking and I want to scream. This people aren't numbers. This people effort can't be valuated in viewership and monetary numbers.

I don't want to work for a world like this. I don't want to be an artist if that's what they'll gonna do with me. And yet, it's the only thing I ever wanted, like all of them. All those people are working in something they love, they're working so hard in making something important, something beautiful, and they're doing it. They're doing Art. They're doing things right. And still this fucking system kicks off their arses. Like they did with George and all the crew, all the people behind the show.

They don't deserve this. WE don't deserve this. We as a fandom don't deserve them taking away this show from our hands. They don't care a shit about Art. They don't care a shit about how this impacts in our hopes, in what Art can do in people's lives.

I HATE THEM SO FUCKING MUCH. I want to cry. I want to cry and scream and disappear because I don't want to live in a world like this. It's rotten. It's wicked. How can everything change so much in a few years?

It's disgusting. Capitalism is disgusting. I want to throw up. People aren't fucking numbers.

Let's keep fighting.

[crow-man9000]

sonic movie 3 thoughts (spoilers below for. literally everything basically + these thoughts are very sporadic)

I cannot express into a fully comprehensive english sentence how much I love this movie. I'm not even kidding, I think it's one of my favourite movies... ever! it tops raggedy ann and andy, it tops nimona, it tops deadpool and wolverine, it tops the mario movie, and dare I say my sam and max spinterest may get drowned out because of this movie... I'm never leaving this fandom tho. I am chained here LMAOOO

I absolutely ADORED all the scenes with shadow and maria! the movies highlighted their relationship perfectly, and I loved how shadow and maria looked up at the stars instead of looking down on earth on the ark because well. yknow. points to the arc-shaped hole in the movie. when she died I kinda felt like that video of that hazbin hotel fan crying over angel dust but um! we don't need to talk about that ^_^

also I fucking HATED gerald. I know we're supposed to but like I wanted to punch through the movie screen and choke him istg HE PISSES ME OFFFFF RAAAAAAAAAAAH

ok. normal now I swear. the chao garden! I loved the chao garden, and when team sonic all wears those chao mascot heads 😭😭😭 THEY LOOKED SO STUPID (SLASH POS) I LOVE THEM

also they said. a lot of things a lot of times. half of the time I was telling my mum "THE FUNNY HEDGEHOG SAID THE THING!" even though she has no idea what the fuck I'm talking about LMAOOOO. especially when sonic said "ok hot topic" I know it was in the trailers but I did not expect a snapcube reference

THE MOON SCENE. I AM NOT KIDDING I HAD MY JAW WIDE OPEN. AND THEY ADDED LIVE AND LEARN??? YOU PESKY FILM MAKERS I THOUGHT THEY WEREN'T GONNA BE IN THE MOVIE BUT YOU GOT MEEE YOU GOT ME GOOOOOOD. that scene was genuinely majestic, when the sun rises over the two of them and then shadow grabs his hand and they go super??? hello??? do you want me to go crazy??? (spoiler alert: I went crazy)

eggman and shadows sacrifices did make me a little upset not gonna lie... stone didn't even get to say goodbye properly :(( please let stone enter his villian arc next movie I think he deserves one... at least we know shadows coming back!

speaking of the next movie, AMY AND METAL!!!! I was straight TWEAKING when amy revealed herself. movie amy looks so fucking awesome GRAAAAAAAAAAAH I WILL GO INSANE!!!!! who do you guys think is gonna voice her? for some reason I can't stop thinking of movie amy as british? london being in this movie has corrupted me.... the british are invading yet another territory: my mind.

overall, this movie was so so good and I absolutely cannot wait for the next one! sonic 4 here we come!!!

no, not you episode 3

[peterm4rker]

(❆⋆.˚) christmas miracle !

🕸🕷✮⋆ [jaemin x reader] ...୨♡୧... wc. 2.3k w. cursing, slight angst, lmk if you find any! fluff ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ

august 22nd, 2019

“jaem?” you called out, your voice barely a whisper as your head laid on his chest, listening to his heartbeat among the comfortable silence. he hummed in response, his hand continuing its caresses in your hair. “i don’t think i can do this anymore,” you mumbled, voice on the verge of breaking.

you felt his chest rise and fall with a sigh “i know” your boyfriend answered, his tone matching yours.

“i love you” you said, unconsciously cuddling closer to him as if you were scared of letting go. you were, because you knew that if you did it would be the last time you would be this close to him in a very long time.

“i know” he repeated as he held you closer “i love you too, and i’m sorry”

“i know” you mimicked, rising from your previous position while still sitting close to him “i don’t doubt that you love me, jaem, it's just… i can’t go on with a relationship where you disappear for a week and then call me like nothing happened.” your hand found his, your fingers intertwining. “i love you, but you’re not opening up to me and i can’t understand why you do the things that you do.”

jaemin listened attentively, his heart breaking further with each of your words. he knew it was true, all of it, but he wasn’t capable of talking about what was going on when he couldn’t even understand it himself. he felt embarrassed to tell you that there were days where he couldn’t bring himself to get out of bed to eat, much less to grab his phone to call you. when two days had gone back with zero contact and he felt a little better, he was way too ashamed to reach out and just waited long enough that he could pretend he hadn’t spent days crying on his bed for no reason.

he loved you more than anything in the world, more than he loved himself, even. he also knew you would never shame him for feeling the way he did, but you would worry. you would put aside your life to help him get his back, and he could never ask you to do that, he loved you too much.

“you deserve so much better,” he spoke after a few seconds of silence, his free hand moving to cup your cheek. “i’m sorry i couldn’t be what i promised you to be”

“you were everything and more” you smiled sadly, feeling your eyes burning with tears “i need you to promise me something”

“what is it, love?” he mumbled as he caressed your cheek with his thumb.

“if you still want me when the time is right, promise you will call me. i don’t care if it’s ten years from now and we haven’t spoken since, promise me you will reach out” the tone of your words was so serious that it left no doubt on him that you meant every one of them.

“i promise i will” he gave you a weak smile, moving his hand to place it in front of you and extending his pinky finger towards you.

you interlaced your fingers with his, bringing your hand up to kiss it and seal the promise. “i should go home now,” you said weakly, tearing your hands apart from each other to wipe away the tears on your cheeks.

jaemin wanted to beg you to stay, at least until the morning so he could hold you through one more night. but he couldn’t, he knew too well that one more night would make you back away from your decision and he couldn’t hurt you any further.

“want me to drive you?” he asked, his hand feeling cold without your warmth.

“i’ll get an uber, don’t worry” you gave him a sad smile as you grabbed your bag from the floor before walking towards him and cupping his cheek, crouching slightly to place your forehead against his. “i love you”

“i love you more” he answered, a single tear escaping his eyes as he looked at you one last time before you walked out of his room for the last time.

…

december 18th, 2024

jaemin couldn’t wipe the smile off of his face as he walked out of his friends’ apartment. it had been an afternoon full of laughter and happiness, one of the many that had slowly healed his heart over the years. he waved goodbye to jeno, who was getting into his car to drive home. he had offered him a ride, but jaemin felt the need to walk in the cold weather, it wasn’t that long of a walk to his apartment.

even when he had been as happy as he had, he couldn’t deny that watching his friends be coupley and cute had struck a nerve he didn’t even know he had. he didn’t know he wanted all of that, someone to tease, to kiss and to have stupid ugly sweater competitions with, but he did, and that could only mean one thing. he was ready, and the time was finally right.

that’s how he found himself standing at the edge of the river, overlooking the scenery as his thumb hovered over the call button. he stared at his phone screen as he chewed at the inside of his lip, he never deleted the picture he had for your contact; a picture of 19 year old you with your cheeks being squished by his large hand.

he smiled at the sight, feeling his heart squeeze with a mixture of nostalgia and guilt. would you still want him to contact you even though it had been five years since you broke things off?

“ i don’t care if it’s ten years from now and we haven’t spoken since, promise me you will reach out”

your voice resonated in his head and his hand moved on its own to press the button that had been haunting him for the past five minutes. he took the phone up to his ear, trying his hardest to breathe properly and maintain his calm as the tone ringed. 

what if you had changed your phone number? what if you had a partner? what if you simply didn’t want to hear from him after this long? what if he had changed way too much for you? what if-

“hello?” his thoughts were cut off by a voice on the other line. your voice. “hi?” you asked again, and he had to snap off of his thoughts.

“yn” he blurted out, his voice sounding completely breathless. he didn’t expect you to know who it was, but he didn’t seem to be able to say anything else. there was silence for a couple of seconds, and he thought he heard your breath hitch.

“jaemin?” you spoke, sounding as if you had just gotten a call from a ghost. 

“yeah, it's me” he breathed out, cautious with his words. he couldn’t say he wasn’t completely scared shitless in that moment.

“hi” you answered, and he could hear the smile on your astonished voice. 

“hi” shit, he really had to start talking more. “you didn’t change your phone number” no shit.

“i didn’t” you spoke “you did”

“i changed a lot of things” the boy spoke, a breathless chuckle escaping your lips. 

“you kept my contact” you remarked, and he couldn’t understand how he could be so happy even when his heart was about to fall out of his ass.

“i promised i would call you” if i still wanted you. “so here i am, i hope it's not too late”

“it’s not” you assured, feeling speechless at how he had actually called you.

“good. uhm, i was wondering if you’d like to come get coffee with me sometime” he asked, his hand going to scratch the nape of his nape as it did when he was nervous. 

“i would love that, just tell me when” a smile took over his face immediately, feeling incredibly grateful to whatever saint had made you the nicest, most beautiful soul that could’ve ever stepped foot on earth.

“is tomorrow too soon?” he asked softly, knowing that his request was a little greedy, but he had spent five years without hearing your voice and he didn’t think he could stop now.

jaemin heard you chuckle from the other line “no, it’s no” he almost cheered at the sound of your voice “wanna meet at sunrise café at like 11?” 

“of course, that’s perfect” he nodded, even though you couldn’t see him “do you need me to pick you up?” 

“nah, i work just around the corner” you answered, being followed by silence. the boy didn’t know what else to say, he didn’t trust himself to say anything else without going overboard. “i'll see you there then?”

“yeah, i’ll see you there” he said, being sure that you could hear his smile in his voice. “bye, yn”

“bye, jaem” you said before hanging up. fuck, he had missed the way his name sounded when you said it.

…

jaemin found himself sitting in a booth inside the café you had agreed to meet in. nostalgia was flooding his body, remembering all the times you had sat on that same seat when you were together. as the minutes passed, he began to feel uneasy. had you planned on standing him up as revenge for all the times he did all those years ago? no, you weren’t like that at all. maybe you had forgotten?

“hi” his attention was called back into reality by your voice again. he lifted his eyes to meet yours, and he could have screamed right then and there. he had always thought you couldn’t get prettier than you were, but he had no idea what he was talking about. the woman that stood in front of him was a work of art, an angel that was blessing him with the ability to look at her.

“yn, hi” he muttered breathlessly as he stood up. he was too stunned to know what to do now that he had you in front of him. you smiled at him and he felt his heart stop, you were fucking unreal. “here, go ahead” he muttered as he politely moved a chair back for you to sit, causing you to thank him.

“it’s nice to see you after so long” you said once you were sitting in front of each other.

“it is” he smiled, still trying to calm his racing heart “five years is a really long time, i’m sorry i didn’t contact you sooner” his smile turned apologetic “i was in a really rough spot, but i’m better now”

“there’s nothing to apologize for” you reassured “you needed time, i understood that” jaemin felt like he could start crying on the spot. you had always been so understanding and warm, even when he didn’t deserve it at all. “now tell me, what have you been up to?”

“well, i’m a photographer now” he said, marking the beginning to a long, overdue conversation about life through the last five years.

hours passed with both of you sitting in the coffee shop, long enough for you to feel bad about being there for so long and deciding to go on a walk along the river bank, seemingly not getting enough of each other’s company.

“so yeah, that didn’t really work out” you shrugged as you concluded your story about your last boyfriend, who jaemin had asked about very casually. 

“he sounds like an asshole” he chimed in, eliciting a laugh to escape your lips.

“he kind of was, yeah” you had to agree, nodding softly. “i’m glad that’s over, to be honest”

“i’m glad it’s over, too,” jaemin blurted out, his eyes widening slightly at the realisation of the implication of his words.

you raised your eyebrows with an amused smile “i’m sure you are”

…

it had been a little under a week since you and jaemin had reconnected, and he could say that he had never felt so happy in his life. he knew you felt the same, he could see it in your smile and your shiny eyes.

“so yeah, i was going to go visit family but i got snowed in in seoul” you shrugged your shoulders as you recounted your failed christmas plans. “same thing happened to my cousin, it’s like a curse.”

jaemin listened intently as he looked at your pretty face, an idea popping into his head “you could come spend christmas with my friends and i” his voice was nervous, unsure of if he was moving too fast.

“are you still friends with jeno and them?” you asked, and he nodded, causing you to smile. you took a few seconds to weigh out your options, coming into a conclusion rather quickly. “then i would love to”

jaemin smiled brightly as he continued walking, his hand slowly reaching for yours as he interlaced your fingers wordlessly.

…

“this is crazy, i would never have thought i would see you together again” jeno spoke as he watched you and jaemin sitting next to each other on heachan’s couch, a little too close for it to be casual.

“some things change and others stay the same” you shrugged, smiling sweetly as you turned your head to look at jaemin, who was already staring at you.

“this is sickeningly sweet, i'm gonna go help in the kitchen” the taller boy grimaced, standing up to walk away, leaving you and jaemin alone in the living room.

“i don’t think we stayed the same, you know” he commented, looking at you with lovesick eyes. “i would never do the things i did back then without giving you an explanation”

“promise?” you asked, a smile on your perfect lips as you extended your pinky towards him.

“promise” he answered, intertwining your fingers and leaving a kiss to seal the promise.

you mimicked his action and wordlessly stared into his eyes, marvelled at the way the christmas lights reflected in his eyes, looking just like stars.

it was surreal to be there with him after so long, but it was the perfect christmas miracle.

★ blue's corner ;; another part of of my christmas special with my first ever nct dream bias... i hope you like it ! this is part of the love actually series that i'm doing with both of my blogs ! ★ taglist ;; @neozon3nha @winwintea @spacejip @dudekiss3r @yizhrt @lyvhie @morkiee @astrasng ★ back to the masterlist. ★ please do not copy, adapt or steal any of the content !!! ★ divider by @fairytopea

© peterm4rker, 2024

[hannigramislife]

NEW DC PERSON!!!!!!

hello im going to give you some tidbits

DO NOT TRUST FRANK MILLER’S COMICS. His Batman: Year One is good, but everything after that is bad. Seriously, his batman got nicknamed Crazy Steve because of the belief that this could not be Bruce.

Young Justice did not actually kill Santa, they simply witnessed his death. Also Constantine snorting his bones was unrelated.

Tim Drake is canonically some flavor of queer (i think he’s bi) and has a boyfriend

Dick Grayson was killed by Lex Luthor once but he came back immediately and was turned into a spy

Jason Todd was 4’6 and 87 pounds when he died so it’s extremely common for fans to think that jaybin (jason-robin) was adorable.

Tim Drake attempted to clone his best friend (Superboy aka Kon-El) 99 times. If you want to see what that would have been like if it worked and they became a couple, go to Timkon Clone Baby AU.

If you like crossovers, get into Miraculous Ladybug, Danny Phantom, or White Collar. (I like Danny Phantom and White Collar). Though DCxDP might not be for you if you dislike vivisection.

Clones are common. They’re just around. Off the top of my head there’s Bizarro, Superboy, Terry McGinnis, Robin of Zur-En-Arrh, Heretic, Will Harper, Match, Inertia, etc.

Billy Batson is *baby*. We call him Captain Marvel still because it makes no sense for the word he can’t say to be his hero name. He was 8 years old and homeless when he became a superhero and happens to be the God of Gods. If you like secret identity reveals, it’s common in the Captain Marvel fandom.

Bruce Wayne’s legal kids are Dick Grayson (flippy Robin) Cassandra Cain (understands all body language), Jason Todd (dead Robin), Tim Drake (smart Robin), Duke Thomas (human lightbulb/gang Robin), and Damian Wayne (stabby Robin)

OMG HELLO! THANK YOU FOR THE WELCOME!

1. This is the second time I see Frank Miller mentioned and he scares me haha.

2. Constantine is fucking insane and I love him.

3. I know he's queer! Dating Bernard now! I'm so happy for him.

4. Omg is that the whole Spyral thing?? I need to know. How come ppl don't obsess over that death?? The fanfics for Dick are solely lacking.

5. JASON SMOL. I'M CRYING.

6. They were canon in a universe?? Really?? Fucking wild. I need it.

7. Somebody NEEDS to explain the Danny Phantom and White Collar thing to me. It's a NEED. How??

8. Love the clones!! Incredible idea. I'm so sorry Kon doesn't get the love he deserves from Superman :((

9. Captain Marvel is great! I saw him in Young Justice only. Does the movie Shazam do him justice?

10. Aksnalsnalsks the way you described them killed me. I'm glad Dick was adopted! I read he was adopted as a child. And can someone tell me what Duke's story is?? Cuz idk. Also, I love Damian so much, he's my baby.