#if you actually bothered to read through all this then thanks.

[pathologicalreid]

spring into summer | s.r.

in which Spencer pursues a relationship with you. you try to resist every advance - for your own protection.

[previously]

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angsty content warnings: blowing smoke part tew, at a bar but it's not specified whether or not reader drinks alcohol, kissing, if you have a problem with my bar music keep it to yourself, maeve as a plot device, love confessions, not edited word count: 2.25k a/n: y'all i wasn't gonna do this, but listening to this song... yeah i had to.

“Spencer’s here!” Penelope exclaimed from her bar stool, her heels clicking on her way to the front of the bar, hoping to lead Spencer through the crowd to where the team had decided to set up shop.

Your head snapped up in alarm, tilting your head to the side and trying to get JJ’s attention, “I didn’t think Spencer was coming out tonight.”

She frowned slightly, placing her glass on the bar and shrugging, “It was an open invite.”

An open invite that you extended to the guy you’re seeing. You huffed, pulling the strap of your dress back over your shoulder and flagging down the bartender, hoping to get a drink before you need to play defense against Spencer.

“Hey,” Ethan said from behind you, a cute guy from counterterrorism that Penelope had introduced you to. His hand sat comfortably on your waist as you got the bartender’s attention again, letting him know that you’d actually need two drinks.

You smiled back at him, panicking slightly when he leaned in to kiss you. Evading his kiss, you let his lips land on your cheek, turning your head so that you were facing Spencer.

The two of you had as little contact as you could manage in the past two months, ever since Spencer’s attempt to ask you out had gone completely awry. Of course, ceasing all contact was unavoidable, between work and Spencer’s continued pursuance, you continuously found yourself under his net.

Ethan squeezed your waist gently, taking the glass that the bartender had placed in front of him and grabbing a straw for yours. You thanked him, crushing the straw wrapper against the bar and taking a sip.

Admittedly, you weren’t interested in the guy in the slightest. The second time you went out together, he’d gotten your name wrong, but he was friends with Penelope’s crush, so you were trying to be a good sport.

It felt like the world was playing a cruel joke on you, pairing you with someone who couldn’t be bothered to remember your name while you were trying to shut out a guy who remembered your favorite flower from a conversation three years ago. Yesterday, you’d found a bouquet on your desk for the third Thursday in a row.

Every time you read the card that he sends with the arrangement, you almost forget yourself. It would be a waste for you to get rid of them, which is the only reason you’ve kept them on your desk.

Or so you keep telling yourself.

“You look nice,” Spencer whispered to you, reaching between you and JJ so he could grab his drink from the bar. He looked good, you noticed him against your better judgment, even the embroidery on his tie managed to catch your attention.

Before you could collect yourself enough to respond to him, Morgan had already pulled him back to a booth, putting an arm around his shoulders and pointing out different girls in the bar while Savannah rolled her eyes. His hair was growing out from the undercut that he’d debuted in the fall, falling in front of his eyes until he inevitably flicked the stray hairs away.

Peeling your eyes off of him, you looked back at Ethan, who’d already made his way through half his drink. His eyes were glued to the baseball game being displayed above the bar. If your date had noticed you ogling your coworker, he didn’t show it.

Tentatively, you tapped his stool gently with your toe, “Hey,” you tried to get his attention, batting your eyelashes. “Do you wanna go over to the jukebox with me? We can pick a song together,” you offered.

He frowned and shook his head, “Nah, the Nationals game is on.” He nodded his head up to the TV, refraining from sparing you a glance.

You looked up at the screen, they were at the bottom of the second inning, and you were in for an exhausting night. “Right,” you said flatly, “I’ll be right back.”

Sharing a look with Penelope, who shot you a supportive thumbs up from the other side of the bar, you got off your stool and adjusted your purse over your shoulder. You liked that this bar still had a real jukebox, as opposed to the updated touchscreens commonly found in bars nowadays. You dug through your purse for a quarter, half paying attention to your rummaging and using the rest of your brain power to study the available songs.

A few things caught your eye, most of the available tracks were classics—Journey, Queen, and a Meatloaf track that was suspiciously out of order. Probably because the song was over eight minutes long. “Here,” the familiar voice—that you’d been trying to avoid—spoke.

Spencer held a quarter out for you, leaving the coin displayed in his palm until you graciously accepted it. “Thanks,” you said, “Do you have any suggestions?” You expertly dodged his attempt at eye contact, sliding the quarter into its slot and reading through the titles again. Pressing your lips in a thin line while you ignored the way he was leaning over the jukebox.

“Why did you ask him to come out?” He asked, pointing at one of the songs and chuckling when you shook your head. He should’ve known better than to actually make a request. After all, you were just being polite.

You squinted at a title, worn with time, and you distracted yourself with the task of reading it. “I didn’t know you were coming with us,” you muttered, refusing to let your curiosity get the better of you and resisting the urge to just select the worn button. “You don’t usually like this bar,” you reminded him. You couldn’t remember the last time Spencer went out to a bar that wasn’t O’Keefe’s.

He hummed next to you, standing so close that you could feel his body heat intermingling with your own. “So,” he started, “You wouldn’t have asked him to go out if you had known I was going to be here.”

“I didn’t say that,” you told him, your eyes flickering to the side. Not enough to see his face, but enough to notice that he’d taken off his suit jacket, his sleeves pushed up to his elbows.

“You might as well have,” he returned, watching as you finally chose a Fleetwood Mac song, concluding that you’d either have to choose a song you didn’t want or waste Spencer’s quarter.

You peeked around him, your date still preoccupied with the sporting event. Even so, you tried to make your way around Spencer, but he grabbed your elbow and held you back.

There was nothing forceful in his action. If you wanted to snatch your arm away and stalk away from him, he wasn’t going to stop you, but you found yourself interested in staying with him. It would be worth your while to stay with someone who was begging for your attention rather than return to the bar to beg for someone else’s.

Spencer looked around, mindful of the members of your team who were still in earshot while he led you away from the crowds. He tucked you away, resting your back against a shiplap wall in a corner, perfectly concealed from curious profilers. “I want to talk to you,” he whispered, leaning against the wall.

You crossed your arms in front of your chest in preemptive defense, making sure he stayed at least a foot away from you. “I’ve said everything there is to say to you,” you made no effort to avert his gaze, no attempt to duck away from the conversation.

“I haven’t,” he responded immediately, his voice steady despite the noticeable pounding of his carotid. It was almost as if he’d practiced this speech before, going through every permutation of the conversation in his mirror before meeting you out.

Raising your eyebrows, you looked up at him; the sun was setting, the orange light reflecting in his brown irises while he studied you like it was the last time he’d ever see you. “Spence,” you breathed, waiting expectantly for him to continue.

“You never actively pursued me, how was I meant to know you were interested?” His question made you want to scoff, but the earnest look in his eyes gave you pause. “Admittedly, social cues aren’t my strong suit, and I know you know that.”

Your shoulders relaxed, “So, because I never actively pursued you, it’s my fault that we never ended up together? Was I supposed to declare my intentions to you?”

He shook his head, sending strands of wavy brown hair tumbling in front of his forehead. In another life, you would’ve reached out to fix his hair. “No, I’m saying that while you never actively pursued me, I am actively pursuing you. I just want to make sure you know what page I’m on,” he told you, nervously picking at his nails.

“Spencer,” you sighed his name, “I already told you I couldn’t do it.” You’d cried it to him, actually. You expected this conversation to be more of the same, pleading with Spencer to understand your perspective on the situation while he relentlessly begged you to reconsider.

Reaching out, he touched your arm gently, nothing more than a graze of his fingertips across your bare skin, “And I want to prove to you that we can do this. I can be the guy that you want.”

You pressed your lips together, trying to push yourself further into the wall until you phased right through it, “I can’t take the back and forth.” You needed something stable, but what you needed would never be reflective of what you wanted. The most brutal truth of all was that you still wanted Spencer. You considered him your first love, and no one ever gets over their first love.

Just like he’d never get over his.

“There are just too many years between us, Spencer. It’s too complicated,” you told him, trying to keep your breathing steady. It would be exhausting to explain your tearful look to the rest of the team.

He waved your reasoning away, “It’s not. It’s not complicated. I love you and you love me. So, why can’t we be together?”

Your lips parted, staring up at him with wide eyes as your brain frantically tried to catch up with the situation at hand. Each beat of your heart was like a repetition of the word—love, love, love.

Spencer took your silence for rejection, “Maybe it’s just me then.”

“It’s not,” you croaked, fear and love and sorrow causing your throat to strangle your words. You looked up at him and wondered how long he’d been sitting on that confession. You wondered how long he’d known you loved him. You wondered if he still dreamed about Maeve. For whatever reason, that’s the only curiosity that you voiced, “Do you still dream about her?”

“I only dream about you these days,” he answered, his voice soft in the cacophony of the bar, keeping the conversation private despite your public stage.

“You can’t mean that,” you murmured, your face warming in response to his confession.

Your response only seemed to encourage him further, leaning his head down to allow himself contact. He pressed his lips to yours gently, and you found yourself leaning into him more than you’d like, each movement of his lips reminiscent of a chisel against the wall that you had constructed between the two of you.

Reaching your arms up, you propped one over his shoulder and used your free hand to weave your fingers in his hair—just as silky as you had always imagined it would be. His lips were soft against yours, and you knew you were fighting a battle that you could never win. You’d always run back to him.

Even when you pried yourself away from him, there wasn’t an ounce of regret in your bloodstream, but there was an outpour of sorrow. “Spence,” you breathed, blinking tears from your eyes while he pressed his forehead against yours.

“I’m sorry,” he responded, “I shouldn’t have done that.” His tone didn’t reflect his words in the slightest, there was no remorse in his eyes when you met them for the first time in a new light.

You shook your head instantly, “It’s okay.” You understood why he had done it. Telling you he loved you. Kissing you. He hadn’t done either of those things with Maeve. Spencer was trying to make a statement with you; he wanted his actions to speak louder than words.

He frowned, “You’re crying. I’m so sorry.”

Your lips parted to respond, but you hesitated for a moment. Curiosity was rapping at your door, wanting to know if the last person he had kissed was Diane. “I’m not crying because I didn’t want you to kiss me,” you admitted, hoping that your candor would serve to bring him some comfort.

“Oh,” he breathed, “Oh.”

You nodded, confirming his suspicions, “But I meant it when I told you I can’t do this. I just… not right now.” You needed time to come to terms with the fact that the love you never expected was right around the corner, and you needed time so that Maeve wasn’t the first person you thought over after kissing him.

“Okay,” he said, taking a small step away from you, “But you… you’ll let me know?”

Your head bobbed, “I’ll let you know.”

"I love you and I always will and I am sorry. What a useless word." - Ernest Hemingway

[woniedarlin]

Hi! I actually absolutely love your fic of jungwon being down bad for tsundere reader so I was wondering if you could write something where the roles are reversed and jungwon is the tsundere one 🤍

Chasing a Tsundere

pairing: tsundere! Jungwon x fem! reader

synopsis: You fell for Jungwon—hard. Unfortunately for you, he just had to be the grumpiest, most emotionally unavailable person ever to exist. He pushed you away, rolled his eyes at your persistence, and made it very clear he wasn’t the romantic type.

But giving up? Not an option. Because this is Jungwon we’re talking about.

author's note: Hello, my lovelies! This was so much fun to write. Big thanks to Anonie for the request—I hope you enjoy it! Happy reading!

caution: cursing and a bit of angst (tell me if there’s more!) , this story contains excessive tsundere behavior and a very persistent main character. Side effects may include secondhand embarrassment. Read at your own risk!

permanent tag list: @sol3chu @chlorinecake @13tter @jung1w0n

You leaned over Jungwon’s desk with your brightest smile, holding out a bento box wrapped in a pink cloth. “I made this for you. It’s your favorite! I even cut the veggies into stars!”

"Tch," Jungwon dismissed. "I don't want that disgusting slop."

If only he could have tasted that heavenly creation at least once. I mean, imagine turning down a homemade dish made with such effort? Poor you, who only deserved so much more.

He barely glanced up from his textbook as his pen continued to scribble down notes. “Why would I eat food from someone who burns toast?”

You pouted and clutched the bento to your chest. “That was one time, Jungwon. One time! Besides, I didn’t burn this.”

"I don't want your germs. Who knows what kind of gross crap is in there," he said; in which you glanced around the classroom; a few of your friends sent pity looks on your way. No one understood why you were so smitten with him, but they respected it nonetheless.

A few of your classmates looked to be in a similar state of enchantment. Maybe you should try it with them instead of the grinch?

"What do I have to do to make you go away?” Jungwon's words sting a bit.

“I don’t know.’’

You weren't even slightly intimidated or bothered, which was amusing. Most people would have backed off, but you just stood there. It wasn't enjoyable but also somewhat impressive. Not that he'd ever admit that. A long sigh erupted from his lips as he pinched the bridge of his nose. He slammed his pen down, causing a few heads to turn, but he cared little. “Sit. Down. Go bug someone else.” He gritted out through clenched teeth.

”Please accept?’’ you showed the bento.

You were persistent with your efforts; he had to commend you for that, though he’d never admit it to your face. That would give you too much of an ego boost.

He eyed the bento in your hand, his stomach betraying him by growling quietly. He hadn’t eaten all lunch, so the aroma of the homemade food was almost too tempting to resist. But still, the stubbornness won out. "No. I’m not interested in your food. Why do you insist on wasting your efforts on me?”

“Please?”

Shit. He couldn’t help but think, “How can I say no to someone so sweet?”

He sighed, finally looking at you with that familiar, unimpressed stare. “Just leave it on the desk. I’ll think about it.”

A small victory! You quickly set the box down. “I knew you couldn’t resist. I’ll see you later!” You skipped away before he could respond.

He glanced between the bento and the door you’d disappeared through. His stomach growled once more, begging to be fed. With another sigh, he opened the bento box and slowly ate. “Not bad…”

☔️

The rain fell hard as you stood at the school gates, holding your bag to keep it dry. You sighed and watched the heavy rain, getting ready to run for it. Just as you were about to leave, a familiar voice called out to you.

"You planning on running out in that weather? Do you have a death wish or something?"

Jungwon approached you, umbrella in hand. Before you could even respond, he thrust the umbrella into your hands. “Take it,” he said curtly, glancing at you for only a second before entering the rain, completely unprotected.

“Wait!” you called after him, holding the umbrella out. “What about you?” You extended the umbrella, an offer of protection from the relentless rain. Jungwon paused, glancing at you over his shoulder.

"I don't need it."

His face didn't reveal it, but the gesture touched him. He had been trying to push you away, to make you dislike him, but all you did was offer him shelter from the downpour when you needed it. He couldn't help but admit the irony.

“Don’t catch a cold, idiot.”

☔️

It was another typical day. The hallways were busy with students. But all you could think about was how warm Jungwon’s arm felt as you held onto him.

You had been walking together, but you wanted to be closer. So, you wrapped your arm around his and rested your head on his shoulder. You felt the tension leave your body as you relaxed into him. He was always warm, and being this close to him felt right.

You noticed Jungwon stiffen almost instantly, his eyes widening. “What are you—” he started, his fingers twitching slightly, unsure what to do, before reluctantly relaxing. Slowly, Jungwon’s shoulders relaxed, and the scowl that so often resided on his face faded away. You felt his arm loosen, “Weirdo,” he muttered.

For the rest of the walk, you were quiet. Strangely.

He led you through the crowded school corridors, expertly weaving around the students and making a ruckus. Eventually, he spoke up. " Are you okay?" he asked, looking at you from the corner of his eyes.

“More than okay,” you sighed, a dreamy smile forming. “I’m in love.”

Jungwon scoffed. “Love? Seriously?” he retorted. “You fall too hard.”

Suddenly, a girl appeared out of nowhere, walking up to Jungwon and batting her eyelashes at him. “Hey, Jungwon,” she cooed, giving him a flirty smile. “You look so handsome today.”

Oh, the audacity.

You felt your grip on his arm tighten, and without thinking, you made a slight hissing noise under your breath. Like an actual cat. Because that’s totally normal behavior.

Jungwon looked at her blankly. "Uh, thanks," he said, shifting his weight to put some distance between her and himself. After a few moments of awkward silence, the girl caught the hint and excused herself, shooting you a dirty look before sauntering away.

You furrowed your eyebrows. Jungwon noticed and let out a long sigh. He reached over with his free hand, gently touching your arm. "Hey, hey, calm down, alright? I can practically see the green flames of envy raging in your eyes," he says with annoyance. "She means nothing. No one does."

He pauses, "Except you, I guess?" he mumbles under his breath, his voice so low you missed it.

☔️

You were hauling a heavy box of basketball equipment to the gym hours later when a sharp voice stopped you.

"You're an idiot to carry that much all at once. Hand it over before you collapse." Jungwon came out from the corner with a frown on his face. He eyed the box in your arms and rolled his eyes as he took it from you, holding it quickly. “This is what happens when you don’t ask for help.”

“It’s not a big deal,” you replied with a sheepish smile. “The team needed help—”

He shook his head. "There's helpful, and then there's being too nice. You've got to stop saying 'yes' to everyone. That was what? A 40-kilogram box of balls and equipment? Your back would’ve snapped in two by lunch."

Jungwon continued, "Besides, Do they not have arms? If you need help, ask me.”

You opened your mouth to protest but hesitated when you noticed his face, “I’m fine, really,” you reassured him.

"And that's the problem. 'I'm fine.' What happens when, one day, you're not? When you're tired or overwhelmed and still say 'I'm fine' while falling apart inside?" He scolded you, "It's okay to say 'no,' and it's okay to ask for help. Do you not understand? This isn’t a game, and you’re not invincible!"

He turned and walked away, his final words echoing down the hall.

"Don't wait for a mistake to learn."

You didn’t expect this from him.

☔️

For weeks, you did everything. You put in the effort that he rejects, but on rare occasions, he accepts it. Well, you force him to take it. After classes, you were sitting on the rooftop, watching the view. For once, you weren’t seeking Jungwon out; you were trying to gather your thoughts.

Were you tired of chasing someone who always seems to push you away? Absolutely.

Jungwon noticed you perched on the rooftop. He couldn't help but wonder, what's got her so down? He knew he was causing you heartache but he also knew that with every rejection, you came back with more effort. He wanted you to see him as what he truly was. A jerk. Someone not worthy of your devotion... but you never seemed to give up, that determination was something else.

He wondered if he may have gone too far…

“Hey.”

His voice startled you, and you turned to see him standing a few feet away, his hands shoved into his pockets.

“What are you doing here?” you asked softly.

“I could ask you the same thing,” he said, walking closer. “You’ve been avoiding me all day.”

You looked away, fidgeting with your hands. “I… I don’t think I should bother you anymore.”

Jungwon froze. “What are you talking about? Bother me? You’re not…” He trailed off, then sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Look, I know I’m an ass. I push people away and make it seem like I don’t want anyone’s company. But you… you never left, even when I wanted you to.” He sat down next to you, keeping a comfortable distance.

“I mean… you’re always annoyed with me. I just figured…” You trailed off, biting your lip.

“Stop saying that,” he interrupted, his tone sharper than usual.

“You think I enjoy acting like a jerk to everyone?“ He let out a humorless laugh, his eyes focusing on the horizon. ”The truth is, I am afraid to open up, to let people in because I know how easily they can break me.” He glanced at you briefly before averting his eyes again. “I’ve seen it happen to my parents and my friends. I don’t want to be another sad soul wandering the world broken.”

You hesitated before whispering, ‘’I’m sorry…’’

“Don’t apologize. Hell, I’m sorry. I’ve been so caught up in pushing you away that I didn’t even realize how much you were trying to get closer to me. I don’t deserve your attention, let alone your kindness.”

He continued, “You’re not… You’re the most annoying person I’ve ever met, sure. But if you stopped being around…” He trailed off, looking away as his cheeks turned red. “I’d probably hate it.”

“Jungwon…”

“What? It’s true. I don’t know when or how it happened… but my day feels..lacking if you’re not there.” He shrugged as though admitting that wasn’t a big deal. “So…don’t you dare think about stopping.” He added sternly. “I like you, alright?”

“Thank you…for liking me back’’ you said shyly.

He rolled his eyes but didn’t deny it. “Don’t get all mushy on me. You make it sound like I’d run into a burning building for you. I like you, but it’s not like I would get matching tattoos or serenade you under your window.”

“But will you?’’

He scoffed. “Really? Of all the things I’ve said, that’s what you focus on?” He shook his head, then looked directly into your eyes. “Fine. Yes, I'd run into a burning building for you. I’ll do anything for you. Happy now?’’

“Very.’’ You giggled, ‘’Come on, walk me home, boyfriend.’’

“Boyfriend?”

He raised an eyebrow at your quick upgrade in the relationship. “You're lucky I like you cause anyone else suggesting that might've been laughed out of the school." He stood up, dusting off his pants and offering you a hand. "Well, come on, girlfriend.“

☔️

Days later…

You sat across from Jungwon at the small restaurant table, your heart doing little flips every time he glanced your way, even though his usual unimpressed expression hadn’t faltered since you arrived. The date wasn’t even bad—just, well, awkward. But awkward in a way that had you wanting to laugh every five seconds because of how seriously Jungwon took things.

Like now.

He's been staring at his menu for ten minutes. It's three pages long, and each item has a picture next to it. How complicated can it be?

"What's taking you so long?" you say, resting your chin in your hand.

"Shut up." He replies, never taking his eyes off the menu. “Do you want water?” he asked, his brows slightly furrowed.

“Uh, sure?” you said, smiling awkwardly.

He waved the waiter over and ordered two glasses of water. After all this careful deliberation, he's just ordering water?

He barely looked at you as he added, “Bring her water. Lemon water.”

You bit your lip to keep from laughing, which Jungwon noticed.

Jungwon blinked at you, tilting his head slightly. “What? You don’t like lemon?”

He looked a bit hurt at the rejection of his thoughtfulness. This was the same guy who'd throw paper planes at the teacher but couldn’t handle not knowing if you liked lemon in your water? You were so endeared that it took every ounce of self-control not to squeal.

“Oh, no, you’re adorable today,” you assured him, finally letting out a soft laugh.

“Cool,” he managed, cheeks turning pink as he looked down at the table.

“No, I mean—it’s just water,” you said, waving a hand dismissively. “I’ll live either way.”

He narrowed his eyes slightly. “It’s not a big deal. Just let me handle it.”

The corner of your lips quirked up. Why is he so serious about water?

The date went on, and the conversation flowed a little more naturally (after you decided to do most of the talking). Jungwon, though, still had his moments. “So, how much do you like me?” you teased halfway through your meal, grinning at him over the rim of your glass.

He choked on his drink.

He coughed, hitting his chest slightly as he cleared his throat. You didn’t think the question warranted that kind of reaction. But then again, you talked to the boy who spent ten minutes deciding whether he should get fries. “W-what kind of question is that?” he asked once he regained composure

You leaned in a little, resting your chin on your palm. “I’m just curious. Am I your type?”

He met your gaze, his eyes softening slightly. It was the first time all evening he'd looked directly at you without an expression of mild annoyance.

“What, you think I’m here for the ambiance?” he replied, a ghost of a smile on his lips. “You’re… not that bad a company when you’re not talking about nothing.”

It is a backhanded compliment, but from Jungwon, it might as well be a love confession.

“So,” you continued. “How much do you think I like you?”

Jungwon avoided your gaze, shoving a piece of meat into his mouth to avoid answering. “You’re so annoying,” he muttered, cheeks puffed slightly as he chewed. He ran a hand through his hair, looking quite flustered. His eyes darted around, possibly seeking an escape route. No dice, he’s sitting opposite you in a relatively small restaurant.

He asked again, “What kind of question even is that?”

“A valid one,” you teased, grinning. “But you’ll have to pay me if you want the answer.”

He frowned, confused. “Pay you?”

“Yeah, like—give me, I don’t know... probably 500,000 won, and I’ll tell you all my secrets.” You held up your hands dramatically.

“You said 500,000 won, didn’t you?” he said, pulling out the exact amount and sliding it across the table with an entirely serious expression. “Here. Talk.”

He stared at you expectantly, looking like he expected you to take the money and answer. It was a ridiculous situation. Here you were, in a normal restaurant on a Friday night, with your new boyfriend, who had just put 500,000 won on the table, waiting to know how much you liked him.

It took every ounce of will in your body not to laugh. Oh, he’s so cute…

Your jaw dropped. “Jungwon, I was joking!”

He froze, the faintest flush creeping up his cheeks. “What?”

You could see the cogs turning in his head as if he was contemplating what to do with you now. The situation was getting more absurd, and you pressed your lips together to keep from laughing. It was probably rude to laugh in his face when he just tried to pay you for the information he thinks is valuable.

Still, you laughed.

“I didn’t actually mean it!” you laughed, pushing the money back toward him. “I wouldn’t charge you to know something like that.”

He looked down at the table, “Yeah, well, you started it,” he muttered, returning the money. After a few seconds, he slid a 50,000 won bill across the table, looking slightly embarrassed. “Fine. But this will do?”

He looked up at you, his gaze uncertain. You smiled, tucking this little tidbit of information away for later. The Jungwon is willing to pay you to know you like him. What a night.

“Jungwon, you don’t have to pay me.’’

“Look,” he said, looking at you pointedly. “Just..” He huffed, rubbing a hand across his face. “Just take the damn money, okay? It’s not like I’m breaking the bank here.”

He nudged the money towards you again, his eyes holding a silent plea. Clearly, he didn’t know how else to go about the situation, resorting to his only known means of communication: his wallet.

“Uh…okay?” You accepted it with amusement.

He smiled, nodding in relief. “Good. Now what…what were you saying before?” He asked, trying to hide his embarrassed flush with a cough. “About how much you like me,” he mumbled, his words barely audible.

“You know, you’re too serious,” you teased, poking at his hand lightly. “But I still like you anyway.”

Jungwon looked away, but a smile twitched at the corner of his lips. “Hmph,” he finally said, flicking a sugar packet towards you. “You’re not so bad yourself. In small doses.”

☔️

The date continued similarly. You’d offer to split the bill, but he’d insist on paying. You’d reach for the menu, but he’d swat your hand away, insisting on ordering for you instead.

He was trying hard, and you couldn’t help but adore him even more despite the awkwardness.

Just as you finished teasing Jungwon, music began to play in the restaurant. The lively beat echoed through the room as the servers clapped their hands and started encouraging diners to join them in the center of the floor to dance. You perked up immediately. “Oh my gosh, Jungwon! They’re dancing!”

He glanced at the crowd gathering in the middle of the restaurant and frowned. “Yeah, I can see that. What about it?”

“Let’s go!” you squealed.

His brows shot up. “What? No way.”

“Come on!” You were already out of your seat, grabbing his hand and pulling him up. He barely had time to protest as you dragged him toward the impromptu dance floor.

“I don’t dance,” he muttered, resisting slightly, but you didn’t let go.

“Well, you’re about to learn!” you declared with a grin, already swaying to the music as you pulled him into the crowd.

Jungwon looked like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole, but he sighed in defeat as you started twirling. He awkwardly moved his arms, shuffling his feet in time with yours. “This is embarrassing,” he grumbled, his face heating up.

“You’re doing great!” you cheered, beaming at him as you twirled again, laughing. “Come on, loosen up a little!”

“Loosen up?” he echoed incredulously. “I’m not a dancer!”

“You don’t have to be! Just have fun!” You reached for his hands, placing them on your waist as you guided his movements. “See? Not so bad!”

Jungwon muttered something under his breath, but his steps started to match yours. He tried to keep a scowl on his face, but the way you were laughing so freely made it impossible for him to stay annoyed.

“You’re smiling!” you teased,

“I’m not,” he argued, though the pink tint on his cheeks betrayed him.

“You are! Oh, Jungwon, you’re having fun!”

“I’m not having fun,” he deadpanned; his hands didn’t leave your waist as you swayed together.

“You’re lying,” you sang, twirling yourself and accidentally stepping on his foot.

“Ow—okay, now I’m definitely not having fun!” he groaned, wincing.

You gasped. “I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” he muttered, shaking his head. But when you smiled sheepishly up at him, his chest felt lighter despite himself.

As the song ended and the crowd cheered, you clapped your hands excitedly. “That was so much fun!”

He sighed, muttering, “Yeah, yeah, whatever,” but the faint smile never left his face as you pulled him back to your seats.

☔️

The evening had been fantastic, but it was time to say goodbye. The cool night air surrounded you as you reached your front door. Jungwon walked you home, although he hardly admitted that he liked it. Every second of it.

“Alright,” he said, avoiding your eyes as you stood by your door. “You should lock the door when you get inside. And… don’t forget to check the windows too. It’s late, and you never know.”

You couldn’t help but smile at how concerned he sounded, even though he tried so hard to hide it. “Got it, Jungwon. Thanks,” you said, already knowing how sweet he was, even if he’d never admit it.

He shuffled on his feet, clearly not ready to leave just yet. “I’ll… I’ll call you when I get home, okay? Just in case. And make sure you don’t open the door for anyone unless you’re sure it’s them. You’re… you’re too nice, okay? People could take advantage.” You could hear a slight shake in his voice as he talked on. “And, uh… make sure you stay safe, alright?” He finally looked at you with worry.

You couldn’t help but giggle at how adorable he was being. You stepped a little closer to him, surprising him with a quick peck on the lips. “I’ll be fine, Jungwon,” you said softly. “And thank you. For everything.”

His face turned a deep shade of red, and he immediately turned his head away, muttering something that sounded like, “I-I wasn’t doing this for you to kiss me, okay?” But his voice was quieter now, a little softer than usual.

You laughed, enjoying the moment, but before he could say anything else, you stepped back and smiled at him. “Call me when you get home, okay?”

He nodded quickly, still blushing furiously. “Yeah, I will. You—don’t—don’t worry about me!” he stammered, turning on his heel to leave. But just as he was about to walk away, he stopped and turned back toward you, his face hidden in his hands.

“I-I love you, alright?!” he shouted, his voice cracking. He quickly turned away, clearly embarrassed, and started walking briskly down the street.

You stood there, frozen for a moment, a broad smile slowly spreading. That was all he needed to say, and you knew exactly how much he cared. You couldn’t help but laugh softly to yourself, feeling your heart flutter as you watched him walk off.

“Love you too, Jungwon,” you whispered to the night air, knowing he wouldn’t hear. But somehow, it felt like the most perfect moment.

[Extra Scene]

Months later…

Jungwon lay on his bed with his phone resting on a pillow. He looked at you through the screen.

“You miss me, don’t you?”

You scoffed as you shifted under your covers. “We saw each other three hours ago.”

He hummed. “That’s three hours too long.”

“Why are you smiling like that?” you asked while squinting at him through the screen.

He glanced at you and smirked. “What, I can’t smile?”

“Not like that,” you said, raising an eyebrow. “You look like you’re up to something.”

Jungwon sighed dramatically as he turned onto his side. “Can’t a guy just admire his girlfriend?”

You scoffed. “You’re so full of it.”

“I’m serious,” he said, resting his chin on his hand. “You look cute today.”

You blinked. “…It’s a video call. You can barely see me properly.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he replied smoothly. “You’re always cute.”

His door suddenly creaked open before you could even think of a response.

“Mom! He’s at it again!”

Jungwon’s head snapped toward the door, his face instantly turning sour. His older sister stood there, arms crossed, and seemed to be entertained at her brother, who was way out of character.

You burst into laughter.

Jungwon groaned. “Can you not?”

“Oh, wait—” She smirked, peeking at the screen. “Hi! Are you the poor soul who has to listen to his crap every day?”

You bit your lip, trying so hard not to laugh. “Hi…”

“Oh my God.” Jungwon groaned, grabbing the nearest pillow and chucking it toward the door. “OUT!”

His sister dodged effortlessly. “Okay, okay, lover boy! calm down.” She wiggled her fingers at you. “Bye, future sister-in-law!”

“Just saying! You’re embarrassing,” she said to Jungwon while backing out of the room.

‘’GET OUT!’’

The door shut, leaving Jungwon lying there, face buried in his pillow.

You were still giggling. “Lover boy?”

He exhaled sharply as he peeked through the screen. “We’re never talking about this again.”

You grinned. “Sure, lover boy.”

“Okay, I’m hanging up.”

“No, you’re not.”

“…No, I’m not,” he admitted and groaned.

[katyawriteswhump]

love and other catastrophes at the omega cafe (1/8)

So I posted about this idea before here, (and was overwhelmed by the response—thank you!) but basically a cat café opened near me and inspired this:

Summary: Steve is a runaway Omega who gets a job at an Omega café, where he’s basically paid to curl up and purr in Alphas’ laps. It’s legal, and he earns a living, rents his own place. He’s getting along fine for a packless Omega. Then Alpha rockstar Eddie Munson turns up for an hour of ‘kitty’ petting, and shatters Steve’s fragile little world…

Rating: M (will be E); No major warnings; Tags: omega steve, alpha eddie, a/b/o dynamics, fluff and angst; (It won't get tooooo angsty, I promise, and I should probably write a shorter version, but this seemed to want to get bedded in for some plot, so...) read on A03 and thank you @lexirosewrites for being so patient with my weird belated questions about what do with my idea!

🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛

Chapter 1

Steve clocked in with Carol at the coffee counter and cosied up on a beanbag waiting for the first customer to arrive. He couldn’t stop yawning and struggled to keep his eyes open.

He didn’t usually work the Monday morning graveyard shift at ‘Kitties’—otherwise known as the Omega Café. Carol usually put him on the weekends, which were their busiest times. Plenty of Alphas—and sometimes Betas—were free then, to pass an hour with a cute Omega purring in their lap.

For a cost, naturally.

Steve, though, had called in sick yesterday and needed to make up his lost earnings. He’d been in heat. So, three days of cold sweats, congealed slick, and crippling cramps. At least the blockers he used for this job curbed his desperation to be fucked. All the same, a dull gnawing pain in his pelvis persisted, he’d barely slept and…

…Ugh, this beanbag was, if anything, too inviting and soft.

He’d gotten his most comfy, stretchy shorts on, his most butter-soft collar, and an only-slightly-cropped-at-the-midriff vest. His feet were bare, which was fortunate. Right now, only his icicle toes were keeping him awake. He was tempted to grab one of the many fluffy blankets scattered around the café, pull it up over him and snooze.

He was torn between asking Carol for a double espresso or napping—to be fair, it was unlikely anybody would join them till noon—when the bell on the door tinkled.

So much for a peaceful snooze.

Fortunately, rather than a hungover Alpha, Robin burst in. On spotting Steve, her shoulders sagged with obvious relief. She hurried up to the counter and presented Carol with her Apple-Pay. “Flat white with an extra shot, and an hour of kitty cuddles, please.”

“Sure.” The payment bleeped through, and Carol turned to grind the coffee beans. She never bothered with great customer service for Steve’s best friend. That said, customer service wasn’t Carol’s strength at the best of times. Steve liked that about her. For an Omega, she was a bitey feral, and she sure had their boss, Tommy, under her claw.

Robin sat down at a table, pulled a cushion onto her lap. Steve shuffled over on his knees and laid his head on the cushion:

“Jesus, Robin,” he whispered, as she started to pet his hair. It was usual practice for Omegas to wait till the customer spoke first, but this was, well, Robin. “You don’t have to pay to see me, you know that?”

“Apparently, I do, Dingus! I’ve been going out of my mind! Why didn’t you return my, like, billion texts?”

“Shit. Sorry.” Her fretful pettings only made him feel more guilty. “I’m out of data, and you know how shit Wi-Fi is in Sunshine Village. Plus, I had really bad cramps this month—I could barely crawl out of bed this morning.”

“Yeah, I guessed that. God, I’m sorry, too.” She slowed her strokes, as they both relaxed a little. “I worry about you all the time, living there. Working here. I wish I could take you home with me. Damn, I should rent somewhere you’re actually allowed to live.”

“No way. I’m fine, Robin. Seriously, I’ve landed on my feet. I like having my own little home. The heating is working in my block this week, and this is a pretty cushy gig.”

Steve didn’t even say that for the benefit of Carol, who’d just dumped Robin’s coffee on the table, slopping half of it into the saucer.

Steve had arrived in the city four months ago, down to his last few dollars. He’d soon realized that acceptable Omega jobs—teaching assistant, nanny, seamstress, junior positions in retail and catering—would all require handing over too much information about himself. He’d also swiftly discovered that Sunshine Village, the district he’d heard about where single Omegas could live unmolested, was little better than a slum.

He’d been caught between the terrifying choices of fleeing back home, starving, or sex work. Then he’d stumbled across this place.

If Tommy had checked the fake name Steve gave, he hadn’t cared. Steve got paid in cash after each shift and earned enough to rent a small place in the Village. Which, despite its shabbiness, turned out to be full of friendly, supportive Omegas.

It all meant he didn’t have to worry about Robin being evicted from her pleasant ‘beta’ neighbourhood for harbouring an unregistered Omega.

Robin chatted on, while sipping the remnants of her coffee and petting Steve idly. While she complained about how unfair the world was for Omegas—they’d met when Steve had turned up at an Omega soup-kitchen she volunteered at—her speech also underlined his point.

His life could be a shitload worse.

This morning, he was being paid for his best friend to give him much-needed bodily contact in a no-strings-attached fashion. While he didn’t have to force fake purrs for her, like he did for the majority of customers, soft sleepy purring happened anyhow.

After Robin left for work, the café was empty again. Carol made them both hot chocolate then turned her attention to doing her nails. Steve breakfasted on an out-of-date lemon muffin, which was still nice and gooey in the middle, then slipped out to the washroom for the second time since Robin left. He needed to re-check his hair.

He was reapplying his eyeliner, when he heard the bell tinkle again.

So much for the ‘graveyard’ shift. He pinched his pale cheeks, bracing himself to face whoever wanted to cuddle him next.

A high-pitched squeal from Carol pierced Steve’s hearing—one that was probably only audible to other Omegas.

And the scent snatched his breath.

The Omega café was flushed with scent-neutralising air fresheners, for obvious reasons. Whoever this Alpha was, his musk was potent enough to punch straight through. It nearly floored Steve with low notes of leather and woodsmoke, and high notes of… Christ, Steve didn’t know what that was.

Plums? Fine Californian wine?

It set his mouth watering, for all of a split second.

Carol! Was she okay?

He rushed from the washroom and peeped from behind a thick velour curtain.

Carol was fine. She was taking payment from an Alpha with long, slightly-frizzy retro hair, a jean jacket—who the fuck wore those?—and dark soulful eyes.

Steve’s heart rate spiked.

The Alpha was pretty damn good-looking, and young too, maybe only a year or so older than Steve.

He was also faintly familiar.

Did Steve know him from back home? Would he recognise Steve?

“So, how does this work?” asked the newcomer. His drawling accent sent a shiver down Steve’s spine that wasn’t entirely unpleasant. His voice was as sexy as the rest of him… and that definitely wasn’t a North County accent. Steve relaxed slightly, ogling the guy who was literally setting both his and Carol’s legs wobbling.

“You pay up front for an hour of kitty cuddles,” she said. “You have to order a minimum of one drink, and all new customers must read and sign our rules and disclaimers.”

“Ma’am, it’s Monday morning.” The Alpha sounded wearily amused, gesturing to the three-page fine-print document she shoved across the counter. “Do I really have to read all this?”

“How about I summarize for you.” Yup, Carol was being helpful and polite. Either someone kidnapped the real Carol, or this Alpha really was special. “You’re not about to go into rut, I take it? Because if you are, Sir, I’m really, really sorry—we can’t take that risk here, or we could get shut down.”

The Alpha shook his head. While Carol reeled off a few pertinent points—“no scenting, obviously. No kissing,”—his gaze snapped onto where Steve skulked, half-hidden behind the drapes.

Steve jumped back out of sight.

“Soooo,” said the Alpha, when Carol finally stopped talking. “To summarise—I can stroke the pussies, but I can’t stroke the pussies?”

Carol giggled. Though they’d all heard that joke, and every variation on it, at least a billion times.

“Pretty much,” she said. “We’re absolutely NOT a brothel. And don’t expect cat-ears and whiskers and all that jazz. Thursday is usually full-costume night, and… erm, right now, we only have one kitty, and he seems to have strayed. Boy kitty okay with you?”

“Yes, thank you, Ma’am,” said the Alpha.

“Cool. I’ll go coax him out with a saucer of milk or something.”

She found Steve backed up against the dingy back-corridor wall, knees basically jello. “Get out there! Christ, you do realize who that is?”

Steve shook his head, throat too tight to speak. He honestly didn’t know what was wrong with him. Alphas moseyed in and out of this place every day. He was usually able to keep himself together.

“It’s Eddie Munson! Lead singer of Corroded Coffin? Super-hot and super-famous bad-boy Alpha rockstar? Jeeees, you really did live in a box till you got here, didn’t you? Look, get out there—before I tell him boy kitty is off the menu, grab my skimpiest bikini, and burrow into that scorching lap myself.”

She nudged him through the curtain. Eddie Munson had already settled onto one of the cafe’s roomiest couches, arms splayed along the back.

Legs splayed too.

Eddie glanced up and those gorgeous eyes raked Steve, head-to-toe, stripping him so bare he might as well have forgotten his shorts. The Alpha’s grin spread slowly, revealing glinting incisors, and creasing up into the sexiest dimples Steve had ever seen.

Steve wasn’t sure how he made it across the room. Somehow, he did, shuffling the final few feet on his knees.

“Hello, Kitty,” said Eddie. Possibly taking pity, he closed his legs. He shoved his thighs forward so Steve could easily lay his head in them.

Steve did so, facing out across the café. His heart skittered like a little prey animal’s. It was only then that he realized Eddie hadn’t placed a cushion on his thighs. Well, if Carol hadn’t highlighted that part of the rules, Steve was hardly in a position to do it now.

Eddie didn’t mess around. Strong fingers plowed straight into the springy mass of Steve’s hair. “What’s your name, Honey?”

“Uh… St-steve?”

Who fucking stammers answering his own name?

“Hi, Steve. I’m Eddie.” He leaned a little closer, hot breath joining those strong fingers to send Steve even deeper into fluster. “How do you put up with the stink in here? I mean, I get it. All those Alpha-Omega scents battering each other would make this place a real fleshpot. Shame, though. I bet you smell real sweet. I mean, I think I get a whiff of you, even now.”

“You get used to it,” squeaked Steve, cutting that line of conversation off pronto.

“You get used to the diabolical plinky-plonky piano music too, Steve?”

“Honestly, I don’t even hear it anymore.”

To be fair, Steve didn’t hate the perpetual loop of movie theme-tune classics for exactly that reason. Even the smoochiest love songs—like the instrumental version of “Everything I do, I do it for you,” currently playing—didn’t mess with his emotions in the way music so often did.

Eddie snorted a dry chuckle, leaning back against the cushions again. Steve’s eyes fluttered closed.

“You’re right, Steve,” drawled Eddie, massaging deliciously into Steve’s scalp, “it’s pretty easy not to hear it. You have got the cutest purr.”

Steve’s eyes flew wide. He hadn’t even realized he was purring yet! Yeah, he could fake purr, but he’d been too befuddled to get to that. Now, he shook with loud rattling purrs that he could barely control.

Omegas purred when they were happy and relaxed, and also when distressed, to comfort themselves. He’d been reduced to that over the weekend. These purrs, though, grew couch-quakingly loud and felt different from anyway he’d purred before.

“You okay there, Honey?” Thank heavens Eddie was nice, though that made Steve’s weirdness all the more inexplicable. Eddie ran the back of coolish fingers down Steve’s burning cheek.

“I’m sorry,” whispered Steve. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” His hormones must still be doing weird things after his chemically fucked-up heat.

He probably should’ve called in sick today too.

“Don’t apologise,” Eddie said. “Look, it’s freakin’ Monday morning. I’m the weirdo Alpha checking this place out. You’re just doing your job, and you’re mighty fine at it, I’m sure.” The words washed through Steve, their brutal truth leaving an awkward residue. “Listen, I’m just gonna sip my coffee and chill. You reckon you can chill too, little kitty?”

“Yes, Alpha,” murmured Steve. The preening growl that jostled from Eddie was enough to make Steve desperate to obey.

He didn’t usually call anybody Alpha on the job. It wasn’t strictly against the rules, but unless a client demanded it—and only the real a-holes did—the kitties avoided it.

Eddie, though, had dragged it from Steve before he could think about it, much like those purrs.

And much like how, a minute or so of petting later, Steve found himself purring effortlessly, and totally relaxed. He wasn’t even stressed by the fact that his cheek rested dangerously close to Eddie’s Alpha dick. Which appeared to be ballooning slightly beneath his thick pair of sweatpants.

This was exactly why the cushions were compulsory. Though Steve barely had time to worry.

“Steve,” said Eddie, fingering around the edge of Steve’s collar in a fashion that literally made Steve’s eyes cross with yumminess. “Are there any rules against you getting in my lap for proper cuddles?”

“No. Absolutely not.” There really wasn’t, though of course, it only worked with the larger Alphas. There’d been no way Steve could’ve fitted into a Beta like Robin’s lap, for example, without some level of squishing. Eddie was, to be fair, not the largest Alpha around, but he was certainly large enough.

After some not-too-awkward manoeuvring—and guided by Eddie’s hand in the small of his back—Steve soon found himself sitting across Eddie’s lap. Eddie scooped him close, and his arms curled around Eddie’s neck.

He stared point-blank into the fathomless depths of Eddie’s dark eyes. Nope. Too much. He dipped his gaze, then squeaked. Now, he fixed on Eddie’s jawline and throat, dusted with scruff, and which drew him like, well, catnip.

Steve inhaled oaky-smoky plums and… Holy crap, what even was that? He was in serious danger of burying his face there and violating the no-scenting rule himself.

Once again, Eddie sensed his discomfort and guided Steve’s head down onto his shoulder, holding him there. “Hey, any chance of another coffee,” Eddie called to Carol. “Extra-large mocha with marshmallows, please, Ma’am? Think I might be settling here for a while.”

After that, Eddie appeared to go out of his way to make Steve even more comfortable. Perhaps noting Steve’s squirmings over getting too close to his scent gland, he slid a thin throw cushion beneath Steve’s cheek. He then settled them both back against the comfiest, most enveloping part of the sofa. He pulled one of those fluffy blankets up over them both. Soon, a floaty weariness, bone-deep but pleasant, overcame Steve.

Even his ovaries had stopped bugging him. God, this was nice. He really got paid for this? Damn, he’d fallen on his feet and Eddie smelled divine. He couldn’t help but daydream about that huge Alpha dick nestled stupid-close to his pussy, with only two layers of fabric between them. He was too sleepy to get too excited, tho’. He soon floated on the surface of a calm ocean, safe and serene…

When Steve began waking up, a honeyed glow saturated his head and heart and previously aching pelvis. He couldn’t remember his dreams, but they must’ve been good ones. He felt complete and happy and… he flicked his eyes open. Oh shit! The cafe buzzed with conversation. Several other kitties had come on shift and were snuggling with Alphas.

He’d fallen asleep on a customer’s lap.

Steve’s focus snapped onto the clock behind the counter, where Carol and her assistant, Chrissy, who also did kitty duties, were rushing around making lunches.

1.57 pm.

He’d been asleep on the job for nearly three hours.

Asleep in the lap of…

“Hey there,” drawled Eddie, “somebody’s a sleepy kitty.”

Steve daren’t look up. Was Eddie pissed? He didn’t sound it.

Steve opened his mouth. Shut it again, dabbing the corner. His head had slipped off the pillow and rested against Eddie’s chest. The Alpha’s booming heartbeat mingled with an amused chuckle.

Steve wasn’t laughing: “Oh shit, I’m so sorry. I drooled on your t-shirt!”

“I know.” Eddie’s low rumbling sigh was one of the most contented sounds Steve had ever heard. “You gonna charge extra for that, Honey?”

🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛ I have got quite a bit of this fic drafted, so hopefully more soon. If you’re enjoying, please let me know, or like and reblog... it means a lot to know somebody would like to read more *purrs hopefully* and thank you soooo much for reading this far 💚

[fizziepopangel]

"Sweet Dreams, Angelcakes"

Angel sat in bed, his eyes heavy but his mind refusing to slow down enough to rest. Valentino had him filming for nearly 48 hours; each scene rougher than the last as he was held down and twisted into unnatural positions before the camera…. He had just about collapsed when the camera had finally shut off, but once he's dragged himself back to the hotel and up to his room, sleep sat just out of reach.

“Maybe I should call Husk.” He missed, looking at Fat Nuggets, as if waiting for the pig's pink of approval….. he was only met with soft sleepy snots as the pig snuggled into his usual spot on Angel's bed. “Nah. He's probably asleep…”

Flipping onto his back– and wincing at the ache it seemed to worsen throughout his body– he grabbed a pillow and hugged it to his chest. He picked up his phone.... The. He put it down again…. Then he picked it up, opening his last conversations with Husk. His stomachs flipped as he stared at the tests. Groaning, he set the phone down again. 

“We ain't even been together 3 months." He reminded himself with another sigh as he picked up his phone and unlocked it again. “I can’t just ask him to come over cause I feel like shit, Nuggs." 

Tossing his phone aside, Angel rubbed a hand down his face. The clock on his bedside table read 3am, but it felt so much later than that and between his bruised and abused body and the anxiety running rampant through his mind….. but even when he picked up his phone again and unlocked it again to stare at the text screen with Husk's face on it, he just couldn't bring himself to reach out.

Suddenly, the typing bubbles popped up beside Husk's small picture. 

“Oh my God, he's typing!" Angel gasped, tossing his phone across his bed as if we're poison. “He's typing!" 

Ding.

The spider demon cautiously crawled toward the phone, panic sitting in his gut as he reached out to unlock the phone. It was 3 in the morning, no good ever came from a text sent after midnight.

Oh God, it's a break up text. Angel worried, his hands trembling so much he struggled to read the message.

❤️Whiskers❤️:  need somethin’ darlin’? Or you just typin’ for no reason?

Angel stared at the text, panic rising when he realized that Husk must've seen the typing notification while Angel was thinking about texting him. He sat there, frozen, not wanting to be a bother.

❤️Whiskers❤️: Angelcakes?

‘Angelcakes’. The nickname brought tears to Angel's eyes. It had started out as something Husk only called him in bed; saying he was good enough to eat or claiming that Angel was his favorite meal…. But even just reading it, it felt…. different.

❤️Whiskers❤️: You there?

❤️Whiskers❤️: You ok?

❤️Whiskers❤️: Angel?

Angel set his phone down, sniffling. He wanted Husk there but he felt as though he didn't have the right to ask for the comfort he so desperately wished he could have. He didn't feel all that deserving considering all the things he had done in the studio.

The phone kept dinging, vibrating the bed beside him until it woke Fat Nuggets. The notifications stopped bad Fat Nuggets climbed into his lap, nuzzling against Angel's chest fluff. The tiniest smile crossed his face despite the tears falling down his cheeks. “Thanks Nuggs." He whispered softly, laying down with his pig held tight against his chest. Although he wasn't comfortable enough to sleep, he figured he could hold Fat Nuggets and stare at his ceiling until something like sleep took over.

Closing his eyes, he just laid there, hoping for even a scrap of rest. 

“Angel?" Husk called softly, opening the door. "You ok?” Angel's eyes shot open as the light from the hall poured in, casting Husk's shadow into the room.

Angel shot up, eyes wide as he stared at Husk standing in the doorway. “What… What’re ya doin’ here Whiskers?” He asked, watching as Fat Nuggets hopped off the bed and trotted over to the other demon, rubbing against him as a greeting.

“What am I doin’ here?” He repeated. “Angel, you kept typing but wouldn’t actually send me a message and you opened all my texts but never responded…. I was gettin’ worried, doll.”

Angel’s lip trembled. “You were worried…” Before Husk could register what was happening, Angel was crying, his breathing staggered and his chest heaving as he struggled to breath through the cries. “I-I’m sorry.” He choked, grabbing a pillow and burying his face in it in an attempt to cover up the tears.

“Hey, hey,” the bed sank as Husk sat beside him, wrapping an arm around the spider demon’s thin, shaking frame, “Quit your blubbering.” Despite the harshness of his words, his tone was gentle.

“I-I…” Angel’s words dissolved into tears the more he tried to talk. It all seemed too much, though part of him knew he was crying over nothing.

Husk gently moved the pillow away from his boyfriend’s face… He was shocked when he saw the state of him; deep bags ringing beneath his normally animated eyes, bruises already adorning his face and arms. “Jeez…” Husk breathed, his grip on Angel’s arm tightening protectively but immediately loosening it again when he felt his partner wince. “Angel, doll, your shakin’.”

“I just…” Angel wasn’t even sure what he should say.

“Baby, when was the last time you slept?” Husk asked, gently rubbing his back.

Shaking his head, Angel let out a watery laugh. Sleep tended to evade him even on the nights he hadn’t been worked like a dog by Valentino…. But this was different,worse somehow; it felt like somehow, in the midst of the beating he took for the camera, someone had managed to the exhaustion into his bones… But really nothing was wrong. He’d been in the studio almost a full 48 hours and he was beaten and bruised and sore all over, but it wasn’t the worst time he had in the studio; far from it actually, yet he was sitting there sobbing like a little kid. He didn’t know how to say that nothing was wrong, but somehow everything was wrong at the same time.

Husk watched Angel laugh almost hysterically as tears poured down his cheeks. He didn’t know exactly what to say or do… But he watched as Fat Nuggets climbed up onto the bed and tried to nuzzle into his owner, oinking softly in an attempt to pull Angel from whatever seemed to be happening in his head. “Angel, doll, you gotta breathe.” Husk tells him gently, trying to follow the small pig’s lead in comforting his boyfriend. “Come on, why don’t we try one of those stupid breathin’ things Charlie made us do in group last week? Remember?”

Although he couldn’t speak, he followed along as Husk counted.

In for four. Out for four.

In for four. Out for four.

In and out…..

By the time he could breathe normally again, and the tears had slowed, Angel still didn’t know exactly what was wrong, but Husk didn’t ask. Husk didn’t push or pry, he simply wiped the tears from his eyes and pulled Angel against him, letting the demon’s head rest against his chest as he stroked his hair. Angel sniffled, his arms wrapping around Husk’s body as if it were a lifeline. He didn’t know what he needed, but whatever Husk was doing was definitely on the list of things he needed tonight.

“Thank you.” His words were muffled by Husk’s side as Angel buried his face against him, inhaling the comforting scent of cheap booze and an earthy cologne. 

“Shhh.” Husk whispered, pulling the comforter over them. “You gotta rest, Angelcakes.”

Hesitantly Angel looked up at the man, swallowing hard as he forced the words out, “Stay with me?”

Smiling softly, he placed a kiss against the exhausted spider demon’s forehead. “I wouldn’t dream of leavin’ ya here, Angel.” Angel clung  to the hellcat, and despite feeling out of place, Husk wouldn’t have traded this moment for all the booze in Hell. His claws card gently through Angel’s hair as he reveled in the soft snores and snorts that seemed to be coming from both Angel and Fat Nuggets. Although he never thought he’d be the type to want a soft, cliche of a relationship like this, he couldn't help but hope that this moment felt as right for Angel as it did for him. 

Husk stayed up a few more hours, sitting in the quiet and just enjoying being able to hold Angel, taking in every little detail about the man he could see in the dim lighting. As his own eyes grew heavy, he pulled Angel a little closer, kissing the top of his head softly and yawning. “Sweet dreams, Angelcakes.”

[lambilegs]

was reading your modern!lee hcs and omg lee x reader meeting on tinder or some dating app is such a fun idea

MODERN!LEE MEETING YOU ON A DATING APP

contains: sfw!!, fluff, just crush stuff nothing major middle picture is from: the guy she was interested in wasn't a guy at all by sumiko arai divider by: @enchanthings note to anon: so so so sorry for how long it took to answer this!! thank you so much for the request, this was so fun and so funny to write hehe

you can’t even lie — you one thousand percent swiped right just for her looks LMAOOOO like it’s not your fault even, her profile just has so little to go off of. it’s essentially just a lot of candid pictures her friends have selected for her, with some plain bio that just says what her job is and that she’s looking for something serious (yes, she cringed when adding that second part, and yes, her friends forced her to)

but still she gets bare swipes on her profile, since, well, she’s hot and people find her even hotter when they realize through her bio that she’s a special agent

and, lee? well, she kinda doesn’t swipe much at all, considering she’s very analytical and scrutinizing with everyone’s profile, overthinking about what their bios and fun facts indicate about them, and if they’re compatible with her

eventually, her friends have to snatch the phone and much to her horror, swipe on a bunch of people without pause, their cackles practically evil as she wordlessly watches

you end up being one of the victims of this swiping rampage, which leaves you eagerly texting her a greeting, biting your thumb when you see she reads your message

except... one hour passes. and then another. and then another. and she simply doesn’t reply, leaving you on read for two days before replying back

you’re expecting an apology, something to explain her lack of reply, but all you get is a “hi,” causing you to scoff in annoyance

you try your best to fish it out of her, replying, “hi!! I wondered where you went haha”

when she immediately replies, “what do you mean?” you text, “oh well it said you read my message two days ago”

after the speech bubble pops up then disappears a few times, you laugh out loud at her reply: “oh. I didn’t know you could see that.”

listen, I love her — but like, c’mon, we all know you’re CARRYINGGGG the first conversation. it’s filled to the brim with dry, short, one-worded responses from her, and at one point, you’re pushed to ask, “sooo why did you swipe on me?” since a part of you is wondering if she’s even interested

you nearly delete the conversation when she replies, “I didn’t. my friends did.”

the only redeeming factor is the text she sends a few minutes afterwards, saying, “but, you’re nice, though. they only swiped for me because they said I was overthinking it.”

and that naturally leads you two into a conversation about how much she’s hated dating apps so far LMFAO so you both wind up complaining together, which proves to be a great ice breaker

she has some texting habits that still get you on edge, though, like randomly dropping off the face of the earth for hours to days, and giving you blunt and short responses. even her use of periods sometimes has you biting your lip in nervousness LMAO

but, you can tell she’s trying harder, asking you questions like what you liked about your hometown, or what do you like about your favourite movie genre. you like that about her — her questions aren’t the generic “wyd?” she asks questions that actually allow you to reveal things about yourself, intimate things that really make you feel like you’re sharing these hidden parts of yourself

you eventually adjust to her texting style, slowly figuring out she’s not completely aware of how dry it comes off, and just doesn’t bother with any texting etiquette most people rely on in order to soften their words, like emojis or exclamation points

but, three weeks into texting, when she leaves for an entire two days after you and her had a conversation about your past experiences with romance, you finally crack and ask her, “why do you keep randomly leaving for so long?”

as you had partially expected, she replies with, “I just leave whenever I feel socially drained or get busy. I get caught up with work and won’t reply to messages during that time.”

when you reply neutrally, not exactly sure what’s the fair thing to say, she asks, “does it bother you?” it makes you smile a bit, to know she’s so in tune with your texting style she knows when you’re feeling off. that’s another thing you’ve grown to like about her — she’s perceptive as hell, remembering every little thing you’ve exposed about yourself and able to wind the map of yourself maybe even better than yourself. like, when you mention having high expectations for romance, she muses, “must be the early 2000s romance films,” as though she’s already confident in her ability to read you. and maybe she should be

when you admit you feel a bit hurt when she leaves abruptly without warning, especially if it’s right after you opened up to her, she replies, “I’m sorry. I won’t do it anymore.”

and she doesn’t. it shocks you, really. just how utterly and completely decent she is, how sure she is of ensuring her promise to you doesn’t go broken. she’ll now send you texts like, “work is getting busy, I’ll be back in a few days.” or if she needs to abruptly leave after a certain tender conversation, she’ll always let you know when she’ll be back to continue it. the entire thing makes your heart swell

when you first send her a voice message, it’s to explain a long ass story about a friendship breakup you had. a part of you is scared to, fearing that she’ll find your voice unattractive and maybe like you less. but, you know it’s a necessary step, and she’s bound to hear your voice anyways once you guys meet

so, shakily, heart throbbing, you send her an audio with a trembling voice and lots of — way too many — giggles

when she says nothing about your voice, only remarking on your story, you groan in frustration, nearly screaming in your pillow. you really can’t play any coy, indirect games with her, can you? and so, you send her another message, hoping it doesn’t come off as too serious when you say, “sooo kicking your feet over my voice?”

“kicking your feet?”

shit. of course she doesn’t know the reference

“like,” you text with a grumble, “do you like my voice?”

a bubble pops. then, it vanishes. then, it pops again. and, then: “I do. it’s nice.”

you know it’s barely anything, but still, you beam at your phone like an idiot. and, then, you release a nearly earth-shattering scream when you see an audio message back from her

you pray you like her voice, sucking in a deep breath when you hit play

and immediately, your eyes shut. god. what a goddamn pretty voice she has. it’s light, so airy you feel like it could be carried in the wind, drifting and drifting. and it has this pleasant little edge to it, rough but velvety in its occasional husk. god, you could get drunk off it

one day, when out with friends, you get drunk, high, or maybe just a bolt of courage form their insistence that this lee girl definitely has a thing for you. but, all you know is something triggers a bolt of courage to zap through you, and before you know it, you’re texting her, sloppily texting in the midst of the bumping crowd, “hiiioii I miss you”

she reads it, then to your intense nervousness, doesn’t reply till twenty minutes later, simply saying, “I miss you too”

you pout, replying, “do you really? you took so long to reply”

she immediately responds then, writing out, “I just didn’t know what to say”

“because you didn’t miss me?”

“no. I do miss you. I just am not used to all of this”

your eyebrows furrow. you type out, “all of what?”

“having someone I want to talk to everyday.”

the confession has you holding your breath, the rest of the room becoming drained out white noise as your gaze lingers upon those words, a swarm of butterflies whirling in your stomach. you bite your lip, texting back, “I feel the same way”

she excuses herself, then, saying she needs to get back to work. but, that doesn’t dissuade you from believing the earnestness of her words. you know she wouldn’t lie just to tell you what you want to hear. no, she truly meant it. and that has you buzzing with a thrill all night

the next morning, after sleeping in an egregious amount after the late night out, the memories of what occurred slowly settle back into your consciousness and you cringe, feeling embarrassed for how exposing you were in your need for her. when you pick up your phone and see she’s messaged you two hours ago, you wince slightly before opening it. but, what meets your eyes has you jolting up in bed with a sharp gasp, mouth dropping

“when can we meet?”

[kaakelymaakely]

the winner takes it all

Klance fanfic

CHAPTER 1/2

Lance has always known he was destined for greatness. Broadway, Hollywood—maybe even both at the same time. But for now, he's ensemble in his college’s production of Beauty and the Beast. Not ideal, but hey, all the greats start somewhere.

Unfortunately, "somewhere" happens to be one forgettable scene, zero lines, and a tragic lack of stage time. But when a new opportunity presents itself—one that involves working very closely with Keith, the ever-annoying, ever-broody stage manager—Lance is faced with a choice.

College Theatre! AU

The boys’ dorm room was a picture-perfect description of chaos– textbooks cracked open but long forgotten, laundry threatening to pile over from the desk chair, and a half-empty bag of chips lounging on Lance’s stomach. The single window was unlatched, letting in the gross, stale smells of campus life– more specifically, the strong tang of weed from two floors down. Their cheap LED strip bathed the walls in a flickering red glow. 

Lance was sprawled across Hunk’s bed like a sickly Victorian woman, one arm flung dramatically over his forehead, the other digging into the bag of Lays. Pidge sat criss-crossed on the floor, back against the mini fridge, scrolling on their tablet as usual. Hunk– the one who should’ve had an actual claim to his bed because Lance’s was right there— was too kind to kick Lance off, instead opting to nudge him periodically in protest. 

After a long week of auditions, and a seemingly longer day of callbacks, the cast list for VLD University’s musical had just been posted. Or, more accurately, emailed. The trio had been arguing over the logistics of a heist into Professor Coran’s office– he’d totally notice a missing computer!-- when the message had been delivered. As the only one in the room who was participating in the college’s production, had refused to read the email himself. Instead, when he heard the telltale ping of his phone, he scrambled to toss it towards Hunk.

Ever the sweetest friend, Hunk graciously caught it, easily unlocking Lance’s phone and opening the message. He skimmed through the list, searching for Lance’s name. Lance watched as he scrolled, and scrolled… and scrolled… and… scrolled… until finally–

“I’m just saying,” Lance begins, talking through a mouthful of chips, crumbs flying as he gestures wildly with his free hand. He swallows– a little too quickly, coughing once before soldiering on. “Don’t be surprised when I get my first Broadway contract from Mr. Broadway himself.” 

“Lance… listen, I’m super duper proud of you— we both are!” Hunk pats Lance’s knee for emphasis.

Pidge gives a solemn nod, barely glancing up from their tablet.

“But?” Lance prompts, narrowing his eyes.

Hunk winces. “...But… you’re only Townsperson Number 4.”

Pidge laughs. “Not even Townsperson Number 1!”

Lance waves his hand dismissively. “Irrelevant. All the best people start off in the ensemble! It’s an important learning curve.” He flings a chip in Pidge’s direction, but they easily dodge it.

“Maybe,” Pidge shrugs, “but you’re not even really in the ensemble, you’re in one song. And then… nothing else.”

They reach for the bag of chips. Lance, lightning-fast, smacks their hand away with a scandalized gasp. “Thank you, Pidge. Really helping me live my dreams here.” He cradles the bag protectively. “Who even got The Beast?”

Hunk squints at his phone, scrolling through the email. “...Keith…”

“WHAT!?” Lance sits up so fast the bag of chips tumbles off his chest, spilling onto the already-cluttered floor.

Hunk bursts into laughter. “Just kidding, he’s the stage manager.”

Lance glares at him before dramatically flopping back down. “Typical.” He doesn’t bother picking up the chips.

Pidge suddenly straightens, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Oooooo! Idea!”

Hunk and Lance turn to them in sync, expectant.

Pidge grins, wiggling their eyebrows. “Since you’re only in one number, maybe you could help out backstage with Keith! Be a stagehand, get all up close and personal.” They smirk before throwing on an absolutely horrendous Bridgerton-esque accent, fanning themself for effect. “‘Oh, Keith! I can’t lift this set piece all by myself! I need your big strong biceps to help me!’” 

Hunk snorts, covering his mouth to muffle his laughter.

Lance lets out an offended squawk, swinging a pillow at Pidge, who dodges just in time. “Hush, you!” His scowl barely lasts a second before slipping into a grin. “...Though that’s not a horrible idea…”

Hunk smacks him with a pillow. 

–

The Director’s office was always intimidating. Or maybe it’s because Lance was really only invited in when he was causing a ruckus. 

 It was tucked away in the back corner of the auditorium, past the racks of abandoned costumes and towering set pieces. The door itself was old, its once-polished surface now scratched and dented from years of stressed-out techies knocking too hard or actors slamming it in frustration. A laminated sign reading Director’s Office was taped just slightly crooked above the handle—probably slapped on last-minute after too many people barged in unannounced.

Lance barely bothers to knock before pushing it open with a dramatic flourish. “Hey, Allura!”

Inside, Allura’s office was no less intimidating. The cramped space was lined with tall bookshelves, each crammed with stacks of play scripts, mismatched binders, and hastily scribbled notes shoved between them. The air smelled like old paper and the faint lingering scent of coffee, despite the fact that Allura had officially quit caffeine three times this semester.

Allura, seated behind her cluttered desk, barely glances up from the paperwork in front of her. “Lance.”

With a grin, Lance steps inside and slams the door shut behind him—loudly. Allura jolts in her seat, her pen skidding across the page.

Lance snickers. “That’s Townsperson Number 4 to you, Miss Director.”

The corner of Allura’s mouth twitches upwards, but she quickly schools her expression back into neutrality.

Lance leans against the desk, crossing his arms. “Anyway,” he starts, stretching out the word. “I need to ask a favor.”

Her expression fades. A slow, exhausted sigh escapes her lips as she folds her hands on the desk, tilting her head in mild suspicion. “What do you need?”

“I was wondering, since I’m really only in one song—”

“No, Lance.” Allura cuts him off before he can finish, her voice firm. “I’m not giving Townsperson 4 any more lines. If I change the script, I’ll have a Disney lawsuit on my hands.”

“Actually, not what I was going to ask, but definitely noted. I was actually wondering if I’d be able to help out backstage.”

Allura raises an eyebrow. “You… Lance McClain… want to help out backstage?”

Lance nods quickly. “Yes. That is exactly what I just said.”

She leans back in her chair, arms crossed now, considering him with a knowing look. “What’s the catch?”

Lance sputters. “What!? There’s no catch!”

Before Allura can respond, the door creaks open, and Keith walks in, clipboard in hand. He’s already speaking before he fully looks up. “Hey, Allura, I needed to—” He stops short when he sees Lance. “Oh. Sorry. I’ll come back.”

“This’ll only take a minute, Keith,” Allura says smoothly. “Please wait outside.”

Keith hesitates, then nods. He turns to leave, but Lance lifts a hand, giving him a slow, totally casual wave.

“Heyyy.”

Keith blinks at him, unimpressed. He presses his lips together in a tight line, nods stiffly, and ducks back out, letting the door click softly shut behind him.

Lance is still watching the door when he hears it—Allura’s soft, knowing hum of realization.

“Ah.”

He turns back.

She’s smiling now, but it’s different this time—smaller, sly, dripping with amusement.

“There’s the catch.”

–

“You, Lance McClain, want to help out backstage?”

Lance groaned, his shoulders slumping forward dramatically. “That’s exactly what Allura said too.”

Shiro shrugged, arms crossed as he leaned against the nearby workbench. The tech room smelled faintly of sawdust and old paint, the shelves behind him cluttered with tangled extension cords, and a chaotic assortment of tools that only he seemed to know how to use. “Sorry, Lance—”

“Townsperson 4.”

“—Townsperson 4,” Shiro corrected with an amused smirk. “It’s just… hard to believe. You’ve always been more interested in being in the spotlight, not actually… you know. Being it.”

Lance clasped his hands together, lacing his fingers with an exaggerated plea. “Shiro, my heart, my life, my incredible and amazingly talented tech director—please, please, you’ve got to let me help out. I’m going to die of boredom if I don’t have something to do. Do y’all seriously expect me to just sit backstage quietly during the show?”

Shiro exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “That’s… fair.” He seemed to consider it for a moment before nodding. “Alright, tell you what. We’ll start you off helping with building the set before we even think about letting you near lights or sound.”

Lance perked up instantly, hands dropping to his sides. “That’s a very safe choice.”

“Then it’s settled. Keith will help you figure out where to start.”

“Wait—I’m doing what?”

Lance nearly jumped out of his skin. He whirled around to find Keith standing behind him, arms crossed, brows furrowed in immediate suspicion. How long had he been standing there?

Shiro grinned, completely unfazed. He reached over and ruffled Keith’s hair, earning a sharp glare. “Townsperson 4 here wants to help out with the set! And, as stage manager, I’m trusting you to help him learn how.”

Keith swatted Shiro’s hand away with a scowl before shifting that glare to Lance. “Lance McClain wants to help out backstage?”

Lance threw up his hands. “Seriously?! Why is everyone so surprised?”

Keith shot a look at Shiro. It wasn’t just a glance—it was a whole silent conversation, one that Lance definitely wasn’t privy to. He frowned as Keith’s expression twisted into something frustrated, his lips pressing into a thin line before—

Keith flushed.

It was quick, barely there, just a dusting of pink along the tips of his ears, but Lance saw it. And before he could even process it, Keith snapped his attention back to him, scowling even harder.

“Fine.” The word was practically spat out.

Wow. What a way to make a guy feel welcome.

Before Lance could comment, Keith grabbed his wrist and yanked him forward, practically dragging him out of the room.

Lance barely had time to shoot a helpless look back at Shiro—who, the traitor, just winked at him in silent encouragement.

Keith led him to the workshop, a chaotic but organized mess. Long wooden tables lined the room, covered in half-painted set pieces, rolls of masking tape, and scattered paint brushes soaking in murky water. Over in one corner, a group of students were painting a large sign, their laughter mixing with the occasional curse whenever someone smudged their work. A few others were hunched over a prop table, adjusting a broken chair leg.

Lance barely had time to take it all in before turning back to Keith—only to find him holding a sharp, jagged saw.

Lance’s eyes bulged out of his head. Oh hell no.

Keith barely looked up. “Do you know how to use a handsaw?”

Lance took a step back, eyes flicking between Keith and the saw like he’d just been handed a live grenade. “I’m not trusted around weapons.” He shook his head solemnly.

Keith sighed, lowering the saw. “Okay… um, can you use a staple gun?”

Lance raised a brow. “Also a weapon.”

Keith pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering something under his breath. “Fine. How about some wood glue?”

Lance’s expression instantly brightened. He shot Keith a wink. “Now that, I can do.”

Keith huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. “Okay, basically, you’re going to glue these pieces together first, and then we staple them.”

Lance frowned. “Why not just staple them without gluing them?”

Keith leveled him with a deadpan stare. “Trust the process, Townsperson 4.”

Lance groaned, dropping his head back. “It’s humiliating when you call me that.”

Keith smirked. “Maybe try and get a better part next time, then.”

Lance scoffed. “Hardy-har-har. Keith’s got jokes over here.”

Keith’s smirk widened. “I’m full of surprises.”

“More like full of shit.” Lance crossed his arms, eyebrows raised. “Now teach me how to glue these together.”

–

Keith strides over, carrying two thick planks of wood under one arm like they weigh nothing. He drops them onto the worktable with a dull thud before crossing his arms over his chest.

“All you have to do is glue these two ends together,” he says, nodding toward the planks. “Easy peasy. Even someone as dull and oblivious as you can do it.”

Lance, who had been examining the wood with mild curiosity, snaps his head up so fast he nearly gives himself whiplash.

“Dull and oblivious?!” His voice cracks with outrage, loud enough that several people stop what they’re doing to stare. Some of them exchange amused glances, waiting to see what will happen next. If anything, Lance thrives under the attention. He straightens his back and dramatically places a hand over his chest. “Name one thing I’ve been oblivious about!”

Keith meets his eyes, expression unreadable. His lips part slightly, and for a split second, Lance thinks he might actually answer. But then Keith exhales sharply, shakes his head, and mutters, “Just glue.”

Lance squints at him in suspicion but lets it slide, instead picking up the glue bottle. He presses the tip against the wood and squeezes. Nothing happens. He squeezes harder. Still nothing.

“This isn’t working.”

Keith lets out a long-suffering sigh, stepping in close—so close that their shoulders brush. The warmth of him seeps through the thin fabric of their shirts, and before Lance can react, Keith’s hand is wrapping around his. His grip is firm but not rough, guiding Lance’s fingers into applying more pressure to the bottle. A thick line of glue finally squeezes out onto the plank.

“There,” Keith murmurs. “You just needed to apply more pressure.”

Lance doesn’t respond. He can’t respond. His brain has short-circuited.

Because Keith is still there, pressed up against him, voice low and steady in a way that makes something inside Lance buzz. He keeps his eyes firmly trained on the glue, as if it’s the most fascinating thing in the world. His throat feels tight, and when he finally tries to speak, it comes out as a choked, strangled noise.

Keith turns to look at him, an amused glint in his eye. “Cat got your tongue?”

“As if,” Lance forces out, his voice an octave too high. He clears his throat and tries again. “I just… am really focused on gluing this wood.”

Keith smirks. It’s the kind of smirk that screams I know something you don’t want me to know. He presses his side harder against Lance’s, leaning in ever so slightly. If Lance turned his head right now, they’d be right there, noses almost brushing, lips—

Lance makes a small, wounded sound in the back of his throat.

Keith grins. “I see.”

“I’d sure hope so—I bet it’d be real hard to stage manage if you couldn’t,” Lance blurts, desperate to regain some control of the situation.

Keith hums, still far too smug for Lance’s liking. “You can dish it out, but you can’t take it.”

“...What?”

Keith tilts his head slightly, like he’s about to say something more, like he’s enjoying watching Lance squirm—

But before he can, a voice cuts through the air.

“Keith!”

A freshman jogs into the workshop, out of breath, hands braced on her knees. “Griffin just spilled paint all over the stage-right flat!”

Keith curses under his breath and immediately pulls away, already turning toward the stairs. And Lance—Lance does not miss the warmth, and he absolutely does not watch Keith’s ass as he marches off.

[stitchkiss]

15 questions, 15 mutuals

tagged by @mmoosen and @wolfboy88 ty!!!

1. Are you named after anyone?

nah just those sparkly lil bitches in the sky. i do have a family friend named rosemary and an aunt named rose so i assume they were influences

2. When was the last time you cried?

an hour ago bc i watched s2 ep3 of our flag means death and the end scene just really got to me yknow?

3. Do you have kids?

no what for. i literally have SO many customers ask me if i have kids when i literally look like a baby and i’m like “sir/ma’am i’m 20” and they go “okay so soon right?” NO!!!!!!!! i have a dog tho he’s a real hassle to raise if i’m being honest

5. Do you use sarcasm?

it depends but i actually don’t think i do. i randomly lie tho or say the opposite of what i mean just to be contrary but people are always saying i’m predictable when i do that. “can i have a spoon” “no” but i get the spoon anyway bc i’m difficult. subverting expectations keeps people on their toes AND me bc i never know what i’m gonna say until it tumbles outta my mouth

6. what's the first thing you notice about people?

hair eyes mouth the way they speak. really tells you a lot about a person

7. What's your eye color?

hazel. brown with some green. looks cool always but Cool in certain lighting. not to flex but i’ve had people ask if i wear color contacts

8. scary movies or happy endings?

happy endings!!!! i have a weak heart and the only thing holding it together is stitches of hope

9. any talents?

i can open any twisty lid on a jar, cup, bottle etc. without a rubber thing in one or two tries. i’m so good at it. i can also drink a lot without throwing up.

10. where were you born?

i was born and raised in the same place as our dear captain jimothy kirk. my blood is ranch, my bones are pork, and my brain is corn. i don’t fear small towns here small towns fear ME. ope

11. what are your hobbies?

being cool n sick as fuck all day every day babey

12. do you have any pets?

i have 1 dog and he’s geriatric and has a biiiiiiiiiiig tumor on top of his head so my pet count will soon be down to 0 unfort but i do have this fly eating plant i made my mom buy yesterday that i got really attached to and i’ve named him ricky the 2nd. he Cannot cuddle tho so pros and cons i guess

13. How tall are you?

i couldn’t hear this question from all the way down here can u repeat ?

14. favourite subject in school?

anything english/literature. i impressed a student teacher in sophomore year for answering a “fate or free will” question with a super smart and thoughtful answer and used anecdotes like greek tragedies, oedipus and that one quote from jane eyre “your will shall decide your destiny” and the final destination franchise, then unimpressed him when we started the lord of the flies unit by saying i would rather just die than trying to survive in the wild. my essays always slapped.

15. Dream Job?

racecar driver or author or some kind of performer.

i feel like all my mutuals are already tagged but i’ll just do whatever i want bc i can: @raekensarcher @disasterpenguin @trpiaep19 @thiamsxbitch @sydney-winchester @kitjosten13 @arlyiahshay

[whentheleahvesfall]

Hero & Partner Week - Day 4 - All Prompts

Well I’m like very behind XD At least today is day 7, so that means previous prompts time! And hoo boy… there’s like a lot to go through. So I’ll try try my best at least from this year’s prompts!

Anyway, for day 4, I’m gonna do all of the four prompts. Yes, you read that correctly, I’m here writing for all four prompts because not only do I want to do so, but I wanted to put myself in the shoes of all four of my protagonists haha. Whilst I still try to get my day 3 sorted (and then my day 5 prompt done too ahahshdhsbdhsb), I at least wanted to tackle day 4, so without further ado, I hope you enjoy reading what my scuffed behind brain has to write :)

Great Canyon

Passing over ragged rocks, broken cliff-drops that fell into a fallen abyss and surviving the harsh arid temperatures that blew through the winds of change, a plodding of two comrades making their way to a prophecy-calling psychic type was afoot. Going for a few hours without much in ways of a proper break, a brazen but hyperactive Totodile collapsed in a gap between two beaming pillars of stone, gazing upon them with fears of them potentially toppling over without much realisation.

“How much further do we need to go before we manage to see this um… Xatu…? My legs are practically… hah… killing me over here Scrald…”

Staring back at the Totodile was the human-turned-Pokémon, a Torchic who would often leap into more situations than one without much in the way of thinking. Scrald was desperate to learn anything about why he had come to this world, which for whatever reason made his eagerness to jump into the deep end more annoying for his partner. Ruffling his feathers, the now fire type flung his Totodile friend into a frenzy.

“Yeesh Planker, how many more times do I need to keep pulling these claws of yours? Get moving already, we’ve got no time for a break! I really need to-“

“Yeah yeah, I know, I know. You gotta know why you came here, but am I not allowed as much of a dignified break as this? Like I said, I can’t even think straight too much because of all of this walking…”

The Torchic finally stopped and took a moment to finally sink in the words of Planker, his partner. Sighing and waning his beak ever so slightly, he stopped to sigh and finally rested on an adjacent rock to get to grips with what he wanted to talk about.

“Fine, alright. I get it too, you need to wait. But I just… I can’t get out of my head something that’s been bothering me.”

“The fact that you jump into danger without so much as a precursor of thinking properly?”

“What?! I’m just an outgoing person, okay?! I hate seeing other Pokémon in trouble, and this is no different-!”

“Scrald, will you shut up for a moment and think for a second?”

Planker frowned at his friend, not gnashing his jaw to scare him but covered his scarf over his face in a form of worry. The green fabric providing some form of comfort much like his straw-bed that he would sleep in nearby to Scrald’s own house, he fidgeted his claws before opening his mouth after taking a deep breath.

“Look, I… I’m sorry. But I’m just as worried about what Xatu might say about you just as much as you may be worried about what it means to be human. You’re worried that…”

“I’m causing the natural disasters?”

“Uh yes, that. You… said that more openly than I expected you to.”

Scrald shivered but slowly nodded. “I-I know. I get that you’re able to also predict what I say so easily as it feels like I’m much more of an open book than I thought. But… but yeah, I’m scared. To know what it means to carry an unknown burden that the reason the natural disasters are occurring and my appearance is…���

The water type widened his eyes and shook his head vehemently, immediately gripping one of the side-feathers of the Torchic before wrapping one arm around his torso.

“No. No no no don’t even go there Scrald. Before we even see Xatu, and even if you feel there may be a bad thing he might say to you… you’re not the reason these disasters are happening. I just… I can’t in my mind, I just can’t… picture you of all of the Pokémon I met be the one who’s responsible for all of this. It’s just not possible.”

“But how would you even know that? One day I suddenly wake up in the middle of a forest, I formed the Blazing Water rescue team with you, and now I… now I need to do why I’m even here. And if that means I have to find out the hard way, I… I guess I should’ve known that maybe my role here was much bigger than I expected.”

Forming a mixture of contemplation and seriousness, Planker looked at Scrald straight into his black-toned eyes.

“My gut feeling tells me you’re innocent in all of this. Not anybody else, or some all-seeing prophecy… just my faith in you.”

“A gut… feeling? That’s not… that’s not anything, is it? How would you know that I’d be a person who wasn’t responsible for the earthquakes, the forest fires, the many, many other things we keep seeing from the Pelliper news-“

“Scrald, please. Just… just stop thinking about what everyone else thinks of you and focus on me. Me - your… your friend. I trust you. And forget about Gengar, forget about Team A.C.T., forget about the disasters and your own pre-conceived concerns, and put faith in yourself as a person. I… I wouldn’t have gotten this far if it wasn’t for you. And even if we’re not perfect, that’s okay. Because… if we’re here together, then we can find out why it’s all happening. Xatu’s a psychic type right?”

Scald slowly began to nod in an attempt to agree, but whether he knew for certain was something he couldn’t foresee. How could he know for certain he wasn’t responsible and still needed to place his faith in someone he hadn’t even met before?

Perhaps the psychic type with the ability to see what he couldn’t could give him the reassurance he thought he desperately needed?

“Then he’d know more about it than anyone. Look, I… I can get why you have a bad feeling about this Scrald. And I know you’re in a hurry and are scared… but I believe in you. So please, even if it’s just for the remainder of this dungeon… believe in me as much as I do for you. Even if it’s just one step at a time. I can take the small steps, just not up this darn canyon…”

The Torchic human would sigh but give the ever-so-slightest hints of a smile across his beak.

Maybe if he continued, he would get his answers. Maybe if he believed in himself, he would be able to prove his own doubts wrong. For whatever reason it was, whether it was deep inside of him or not, one thing was for certain in his brain. He would have to keep going, no matter what.

“O-okay. I’ll do it. A-and I’ll try, with you.”

A smile from his partner after he pulled his scarf down was all he needed to move forward together to get the answers he seemed. He would make sure that the both of them would know exactly what was the cause of everything that could be occurring.

And he would do it with his friend… together.

Hidden Land

It had been several hours passing over the Sea of Time that Harmony had finally managed to close his eyes to sense the aura around him, feeling scared about the imminent collapse of time if they didn’t hurry to climb Temporal Tower and save the world for permanent, pending paralysis.

It was the future he came from that he went back in time for so he could fix the mistakes his former self had made, and with it, his own amnesia meant he could only try and thaw in the blanks of what it meant to still live in the past he was in right now.

“…Harmony? Hey. Are you okay?”

A shake and tussle from a concerned female Eevee shook him from his partial concentration, her eyes filled with concern as she sat down next to the Riolu to share some insight as to his sudden actions.

“I-I’m fine. Just… just thinking about stuff.”

“Like what? Did you want to talk about it?”

“Flurr, I… I can’t. Not whilst the world’s own future is at stake. We need to keep moving, or otherwise we’ll run out of time.”

He grimaced and flexed his right forepaw, fidgeting at his side before slowly slumping below. Harmony couldn’t bring himself to talk to her about all of the troubled emotions he had hidden underneath his mind.

Dusknoir’s betrayal and the kidnapping of the both of them so they could fight through the future just so they could return to the past and hope to even have a chance of collecting the Time Gears.

Realising that not only did he have the partner by his side, he also was none other than the same human Grovyle trusted with his life before his amnesia overcame him. Not even being aware of both of their true identities, they both fought when encountering him at one of the three Time Gears’ lakes, before the pain of realisation meant they could all be manipulated by pure coincidence.

Right now, Grovyle too was in front of them scouting the area to ensure they knew where they were headed before moving forward.

Standing in an old set of ruins beset by murals of ancient depictions of legendary Pokémon battles and the events of a previous falling asteroid, the Riolu did not want any part of becoming legend. He was scared and terrified. Not just of losing his own life if he failed, but by harming the two partner Pokémon he relied on so much that he couldn’t bring himself to tell them.

In his mind at least, that’s what he thought. That there was no way that they could ever understand the feelings he encompassed after forgetting his previous life for the one he lived now, and the consequences he had to deal with in tow just to get a basic understanding of everything.

As he sat, he shivered. Inside his mind, or at least the very depths of it, there was a tinge of regret that something may happen. What might happen to him when he prevented the future of darkness from ever occurring? Would it mean… would it mean that he himself would become a time paradox? That he would never exist?

Harmony couldn’t bring himself to finish that thought, before he felt a comforting hug come from his Eevee partner. She could only look on in an attempt to get through to his mind.

“I don’t know what you’re thinking Harmony, but this isn’t just a burden you have to think is just only on your shoulders. It’s on our shoulders together, is it not?”

The Riolu human stared back incredulously, unsure of what she was trying to say.

“How is it not Flurr? I’m… I’m trying my best to deal with the consequences of every second we lose. Your relic fragment may have guided us here but it’s not guiding my lost heart right now. I can’t… I can’t deal with losing you too. I just can’t. You mean too much to me.”

“That’s… thank you, but I… I know you’re not the only one who’s thinking about this all deep inside.”

Flurr flickered a small smile at him, which made his already overwhelmed brain suddenly contemplate a whole slither of conundrums. What was she even talking about? Did he do something to upset her? Did he go and screw up again, like everything he touched triggered his Dimensional Screams? Did he waste the time of other Pokémon again? Did he-

“I’m thinking about it too, even now.”

…

“Y-you are? But why?”

“Because I know that underneath it all, I’m scared, I-I’m afraid, but… I know if I don’t move forward, we won’t be able to save anyone. Me and Grovyle… we’re just as nervous about what might happen if we move forward as much as anyone else is. Including you. So please, even if it is the hardest thing in the world for you… please, just try. For me. For us. We’re Team Harmonia after all, and it was named after you. So… even if I get my strength from you too, I just… please?”

“That’s… that’s impossible.”

The female Eevee pulled her partner into a sudden hug.

“It may feel that way… but if you have someone to confide your worries in, doesn’t that mean you can at least try? We’ll save this world Harmony, I’m sure of it.”

Harmony looked at her, before eventually realising he couldn’t keep it in anymore. A few sniffles came, before a tear fell, then another and then another. He couldn’t keep it up.

He had to cry.

And as the Eevee cuddled him… she knew that with him, her strength and at least her worries can help make him feel better. Even if it was just in this moment. As the both of them didn’t know what to expect, they knew they needed to try. Just try.

They would go and place the Time Gears so they could save the world together.

If the both of them could just try… they could do it together.

Glacier Palace

The air was becoming hard to breathe for everyone around him. Soon without realising, his allies would begin collapsing from exhaustion one after another.

First came the collapse of his friend Dunsparce, followed by Virizion, then Umbreon and Espeon. They all fell from the protruding force of an unknown assailant, making the air thin as ice… much like the place they had become trapped from traversing via the Entercards.

Eventually, before he even realised, a lone Tepig stood still near the fallen and near unconscious body of his partner, an Axew whom he had grown to care about since he first woke up in this world from falling down from the sky.

“Huck! Huck, buddy, wake up-!”

“Ungh… Cormos… I…”

“Please, I can’t be the only one left up here, stay with me, even if it’s just…!”

The Axew’s tenacity was waning away, fading into background obscurity as he felt his consciousness slowly slipping into the depths of unawakened darkness. Cormos refused to have this happen. He… he couldn’t let this happen. Why? Why were his friends - and his precious best friend - all starting to find it difficult to even breathe?

With a sudden deep breath and a flurry of panic wash over him, sweat began to cover the fire type-human’s face. He was the only one left still standing.

How? How was this even happening? Why was it even happening for him?

He didn’t know. He just didn’t know.

“…Cormos…” Huck coughed, feeling his strength all but surely break away.

“Huck, I’m scared, what do I-? What do I do?”

“Just… stay by my side. Your presence… it’s… it’s the thing that… cough… provides me with the ability to even talk to you… gah… right now.”

“That’s…”

“I’m still here Cormos… even if I’m…”

Silence fell by the end of his partner’s date statement, and in a frantic effort to try and wake him up, the Tepig rushed to his side, shaking him like a ragdoll in a desperate attempt to wake him.

“Huck! Huck! C’mon, don’t… don’t leave me now.”

“WHO DARES TRESPASS ON MY DOMAIN?!”

A sudden, ice-pierced cry echoed throughout the chamber as a looming silhouette appeared over the human. There staring back at him was an expression lost with no soul, empty and desolate. With two ice-fractured wings flung from the back of its body, whatever this creature was instantly made the flame in Cormos’ body flicker further in a reflex arc.

“I-I… I come in peace. P-please… my buddy… please what’s happening to him?”

“You. You who can somehow survive the thick air up here. Just who are you?”

“…Cormos. Now tell me, how do I save my friend?!”

“Silence!”

The ice dragon roared and shook the confines of the Glacier Palace with the ferocity of what felt like an avalanche.

“I asked a question, I would like an answer. How could you possibly still breathe when…?”

Upon closer inspection, the towering giant loomed over the fire type with piqued interest. Moving down, they stared back at Cormos before making a slow growl.

“Your smell… it’s foreign. One that I feel accustomed to from the many times I’ve seen your kind. But you… I see you only pay heed to your allies and the Pokémon beside you. Why are you here… Cormos?”

“I… I came here because our team wanted to perform an investigation of the Glacier Palace. We didn’t mean to i-intrude or steal anything from you Mr…”

“Your kind can call me Kyurem. I’m content with your so-called investigation, but any moves further past this point is forbidden. Should you even dare try to defy me… a swift death would be nothing more short than certain.”

“I-I have no intention of doing that Kyurem.” The Tepig fearfully curled up into a ball, scared of what the towering ice dragon would inflict upon him if he tested his patience.

Luckily for him though, whatever the beast was approached Huck slowly before roaring and clearing some of the air temporarily so that he could breathe.

Before he realised it, the Axew slowly began to wake up again and turned to see the intensively worried face of his Tepig partner.

“Cormos… thank you.”

“I suggest to the both of you that whatever business you have further in this place is wrapped up now. I do not want to warn you a second time.”

“W-we will. We’re extremely sorry to trespass.”

“But I will say this. This Axew can keep the Frism he wanted to obtain. It is a special… object that can help with transferring messages if provided with the warmth of key. This will be your way of remembering your time here.”

Huck’s face immediately lit up with a gleaming smile, before finding his arms straight around the neck of the Tepig.

“Cormos… you were incredibly brave… thank you, thank you, thank you…”

The only thing on the former human’s mind though was the fact that his partner was safe. They would be okay. Team Whirlsprint would be alright.

And him and the rest of his friends… could go home together.

Revelation Mountain

Through the continuous rocky path to the peak of the mountain, a lone and angst-filled water type darted his eyes around in several different directions. Somewhere deep inside of him, he couldn’t help but feel worried.

The true culprit responsible for turning the world’s Pokémon to stone… he would slowly but surely meet them face-to-face.

With this knowledge, he knew he’d have to fight whatever it was that was standing in his way. Whether he knew for certain or not how it would turn out was anyone’s guess, at least to him.

All he know though was he wanted to find comfort in himself. No matter how far he’d go just to know what he could do at the core of the dilemma.

“We’ve got to not be far from the peak now you two. Stay sharp.”

Archen - one of the water type Pokémon’s allies from the Expedition Society - looked back at the both of the main team members of the Kipsaurs with a face filled with protection and confidence.

Sprout - a hyperactive Bulbasaur - nodded in tow. Cormac - the Mudkip with a lot to contemplate even if his former foster parent was also with them - was snapped back out of his thoughts. His terrified, over-encompassed worries and concerns.

As both Archen and Nuzleaf - the grass-type who took the human in where he had no where else to go - both wandered ahead not too far from where they would ascend to take down Krookodile, eventually the Bulbasaur looked and widened his eyes at the weakness of his friend. Walking alongside Cormac, he turned to look at him straight in the eyes.

“Hey, is… is everything alright? You look like the Mareep got stacked all over you.”

“Ah… I… it’s nothing Sprout, you don’t need to concern yourself over me. We have to stop Krookodile from hurting whatever is at the top of this mountain. I’m sure your Pops would say the same thing.”

“My Pops huh…? Well… I-I know most of all he’d be especially worried about me. Considering we haven’t seen each other in so long, he’d come back and scoop me up and give me the longest hug ever. But… but that’s not who I’m worried about right now. It’s you. You look so shuttered Cormac. W-why?”

With a heavy sigh, the former but amnesiac human stopped and began to shiver. His fin stood on end and his thoughts throttling any form of concentration, he shook himself into a shrunken corner.

Something… something felt horribly, horribly wrong in his mind. Why? Why could he not bring himself to move? How could he not have any strength left in him to continue moving forward? How was it that it was always him…? Right here, right now, why was he so worthless-?

“Cormac! Cormac! Cormac! Listen to me Cormac, I’m here! Please, please come back!”

A voice blotted out the echoed darkness that ploughed from the recesses of his mind to the forefront of reality, and through fuzzied eyes he stared at the concerned partner that shone into his line of sight.

Sprout looking no more worried than any other time he had seen him with his own self-doubts, he stared at Cormac with a look of lingering confusion and fear he would lose his friend to whatever he may have been going through.

“Cormac… come back to me.”

…

A breath of air from his lungs… and out again. Breathing in… and breathing out. Rinse and repeat until… until he would feel better.

“S-Sprout… I’m sorry.”

“I’m here Cormac, please… just tell me what’s worrying you.”

Silence filled the air as the Mudkip managed to regain his footing, before he slumped onto one of Sprout’s back vines for support as he used them to help him feel comfortable.

“I’m… just worried. About… about confronting the person who could be causing all these problems we’re having at the Expedition Society. I’m worried we could be turned to stone… or something might happen to you or Archen or my… own Pappy, but I… I’m worried most of all of seeing you get hurt. I can’t… no I won’t let that happen. I just can’t.”

With a flickered tear rolling down his cheek and dampening the cloth of the harmony scarf he wore, Sprout raised a leg to wipe it away and slowly but surely gave him a hug.

Maybe it wouldn’t last forever… but in this moment Cormac felt he needed it the most, especially when feeling at his most vulnerable right now.

“I-I know how it feels. Cormac, I’m scared of a lot of things. Losing my Pops, losing my place in the society, but now… hearing you say that, and how much you care about me… it makes me scared of losing you too. More than anything than you may know. But… but we have each other. I’m not going to let anything happen to you Cormac, no matter what.”

Sprout looked at his best friend with all the care he had for him up until this point in their journey, clinging onto him so he could feel at ease. He wouldn’t let go… not until he knew for certain that the Mudkip human would know how to ease his panic away from his mind.

Breathing slowly but surely, Cormac nodded and reciprocated the hug. He hugged him tightly, and began to sniffle more.

“I-I can’t… no I won’t… I refuse to let Krookodile, or whoever else I fear may touch you lay their hands on you Sprout… I never, ever want to have you harmed.”

“…I’m glad, so so glad to hear that Cormac. C’mon, let’s go… Archen and Mr Nuzleaf are up ahead.”

“…Right.”

With two cautious steps, the both of them walked forward to catch up to the other two in their searching party. Archen noticed Cormac’s worried eyes and gave him a reassuring nod.

And his surrogate father he left behind… whether it was his face or not, the human couldn’t tell.

But he swear… he saw the pained tear and worry his own face move forward.

“C’mon young’uns… yer gonna be fine. And Cormac… I’ll make sure you’ll be raising yer spirits like-a freshly brewed Oran Berry soufflé.”

The grass-type guardian gave his child a hug as well as a form of consolation for him, as the four of them had managed to get through to a clearing at the top.

The Expedition Society’s members all were there to support him, he realised. Even his own guardian.

But whatever this feeling that was inside him that he couldn’t shake away for something being wrong… he knew one thing he could do.

He would confront it with his allies together.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you for reading all four prompts I had to write. Whilst I know my other submissions are waaaayyy overdue (I’m sorry DX), thank you for a great hero/partner week! I’ve loved seeing all of you guys’ submissions and it proves that not only are all of you talented, but you’re all amazing in your own right as we all move forward to the future. We can all be here… as we each move forward… together.

@heropartnerweek

[dawntheduckrb]

I'll stop posting wips eventually but it's been five days since I've said anything and I don't want anyone to think I'm dead/dying/stuck in a ditch and withering away, so here's 10% of the reason I disappeared (the duck is stuck in rendering hell) (and my little baby laptop is screaming at me every time I open up this file)

I might still be mostly lurking for a little bit so please be patient with me in the meantime 🙏🙏

[readwritealldayallnight]

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, who from the moment he laid eyes on you, has only ever referred to you as his wife

You, this sweet little thing, running through the halls on base one day when you turn a corner and nearly run headfirst into the Lieutenant, who’s walking alongside Soap

“Oh! Sorry about that, sir.” You told him, never slowing down in your hurried pace as you snuck around his large frame and continued down towards whatever you were evidently late for

The only reason his gaze had followed your retreating form, was that unlike everyone else, you had met his eyes when you spoke, even smiled warmly up at him

That one smile and he was done for

“Who was tha’?” The sergeant had questioned, seeing Ghost’s attention still fixated on you.

“Think that was my wife.”

“Yer what?!”

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, who makes it a point to let everyone know that you are in fact his wife

Well, everyone apart from you apparently

He would certainly never abuse his position as a Lieutenant, but some new recruit had the audacity to whistle at you as you walked by? Well 100 laps around the base don’t exactly run themselves

Another soldier saved you a seat next to him in a briefing? He can enjoy scrubbing toilet seats for the next week in that case

Someone actually had the bollocks to ask you for your phone number? Perfect, he needed a volunteer for demonstrating hand to hand combat to the recruits, medics on standby of course

By the time he properly introduces himself to you for the first time, it’s understood by everyone else around that you are, for all intents and purposes, Mrs Riley

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, who listens to you tell him your name in a voice that resembles music to his ears, hardly bothering to remember your last name, seeing as it’ll be changing soon enough anyway

“You can call me anythin’ you want, love.” His deep, gravelly voice had sent shivers down your spine, cheeky smirk widening beneath his mask. “So long as you call me, that is.”

By the end of your first date, (you were sitting alone in the dining hall and he wordlessly joined you what do you mean this isn’t a date) he’s wondering if you’ll insist on a ceremony or if he can sweep you away to the nearest courthouse and make this official, slipping a ring onto you finger and himself into you

You had laughed when he put his number into your phone and named himself ‘Husband’, certain that the man was only messing with you, some kind of hazing that you apparently weren’t aware Lieutenants played on the new communications hire, but it was only fair seeing as he’d saved your contact under ‘Wife’

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, who is over the moon every time you play along, even if he knows you believe you’re only playing

“Ach, thanks Lt. Just what I needed.” Soap said, seeing Ghost’s approaching form enter the common room, holding a steaming cup of tea in each hand

“S’for my wife. Get your own.” The older man gruffly replied, sliding the mug onto the side table next to where you’re curled up on the couch, reading a book

“Aw, thank you honey.” You giggled, smiling up as him with an expression he thinks would taste even sweeter than honey if he were to run his tongue across your upturned lips

“Happy wife, happy life, sergeant.” Ghost shrugged, ignoring the other man’s pout, landing next to you and reaching an arm behind you across the back of the couch

“God, maybe I really should keep you.” You’d laughed, reaching a leg out to dig your socked toes into his muscled thigh, teasing him

Grasping your foot into his large, strong hands, he began massaging it, uncaring that you were only two of the many people in the common room, not when you looked at him like that, smiling together as though you truly were nothing more than a married couple

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, who surprised you one day, insisting he needed your help with something crucial off base, and drove you to a local shopping outlet to look at none other than dresses

“Is there some sort of party happening?” You’d questioned, confused out of your mind

“Suppose you could consider it a party.” He’d answered, leading you through the many racks of dresses, you noticed were all, very conveniently, white

“Now while you’re lookin’ through dress sizes,” he’d added, taking your left hand in both of his. “You know your ring size? Got my own shoppin’ to do ‘round here.”

Series masterlist

[hiraethwrote]

Imagine trying to escape an annoying ex who just will not leave you alone. And one day, around lunchtime, you’re so unlucky as to run into them in a cafe. They start badgering you about grabbing a bite together when you just blurt out “I’m actually here on a date!”

They instantly start grimacing and asking all sorts of questions about who this might be, causing you to panic. “Aah, there he is!” You desperately grab the arm of the next person to enter the cafe, hoping they’re able to read the situation and then have the decency to play along.

That random individual is no other than Satoru, who looks absolutely baffled by the abrupt encounter. His eyes darts between your ex and you, pleading with your eyes to help you out.

It takes him less than a second to make up his mind, slinging his arm over your shoulders and flashing your ex a smug grin — and then he commits wholeheartedly to the bit. He starts lying through his teeth about how much he enjoyed your last date, that he just picked up that book you recommended and he thought you might want to go to a botanical garden for your next meeting.

Eventually, your ex has had enough of the sight and leaves the cafe — you exhale deeply and relief washes over you. And once you begin to thank the stranger, he notices just how pretty you are. Kind eyes, a warm little smile that lingered after having laughed along to his performance, and a frame that simply seems to fit next to him.

The little unexpected interaction has caused you to run late. Rushing out a million little thank you’s, before pulling out your wallet. You pay for what you came for, then hand him some cash, “I’d love to pay for your lunch but I have to run. So just, take this, thank you again!” You chuckle lightly before quickly backing out of the cafe.

In your hurried haze, Satoru barely gets a word in. What really bothers him, is how he never managed to get your name before you’re out of there, and from that moment you’re stuck on his mind.

©hiraethwrote 2024 . all rights reserved. reposting, translating and otherwise plagarisim is prohibited

[starboundsingularities]

good lird they did not make a gimmick blog about a real life murder

#someone fucking DIED but whatever who gives a shit it's funny i guess

7 notes

🥚 eggvidenced Follow

honestly with how suspicious and confusing everything on the dl-6 case was i wouldn't be surprised if it came out that it was that prosecutor guy tbh

🌟 rockliker270 Follow

date posted: june 23, 2010

1,834,853 notes

⚖️ courtofpublicopinions Follow

🌟 rockliker270 Follow

ok hear me out. what abt winston payne though

🧊 just--ice Follow

okay now they're just making lawyers up

#also didn't mvk die or something?

28,932 notes

🔥 triedbyfire Follow

why the fuck are you people still posting about the gavinners as if theyre not copaganda. didn't the guitarist get convicted of murder

🎸 guiltiest-lovers837 Follow

so fucking tired of this "um um didn't daryan get convicted of murder" YEAH AND HE'S LITERALLY NOT IN THE FUCKING BAND ANYMORE. dipshit

🔥 triedbyfire Follow

are you gonna address the copaganda thing or

1,092 notes

🌻 attorneybout Follow

he's so. 😳

📂 trialanderror Follow

why is he defending

📂 trialanderror Follow

OP WHY IS HE DEFENDING???

24,374 notes

🦈 giantlakemonsters Follow

i just wanna hear about another gourdy sighting thats all

🥜 liberdeez Follow

op. i'm so sorry op. gourdy isn't real you have to let her go. they had a whole trial about it.

🔐 wrightorwrong Follow

hi!! so this isn't actually the case as while gourdy was briefly mentioned in a trial, said trial had nothing to do with whether or not gourdy was "real" per se as much as. well. murder, actually. while gourdy WAS found out to be an inflatable steel samurai this was not brought up in the case at all as the veracity of gourdy wasn't really as relevant as the fact that the witness was looking for gourdy rather than at the murder she claimed to have seen. plus this was also a relatively small part of a MUCH larger trial which for those interested not only solved the dl-6 case but ALSO marked the end of prosecutor von karma's ~40 year long record and the court records are really a fascinating read through!!

🦀 mad_libz_87 Follow

net 0 information post

#thanks again lawblr

94,834 notes

🍒 cherriescoola Follow

btw i was at the park the other day and klavier gavin (of gavinners fame) was there and obv there was a huge crowd but this guy was there with him and at some point he (the other guy) waved to the crowd and someone still screamed like it was klavier??? who was that guy ive never seen him before in my life

2,284 notes

🩸 has-dl6-been-solved-yet Follow

December 28, 2016

YES!!!

702,947 notes

🪙 tellerlikeitis Follow

guys help i'm a bank teller and this guy just introduced himself as robin banks what do i do

🔪 violencekilling Follow

you gotta let him rob you that's the law

302,948 notes

👻 ghostesswiththemostest Follow

look if i ever get convicted of murder im just hiring the lawyer with the coolest sounding name

💼 courtofwaw Follow

bestie if you already got convicted it is Too Late

62,193 notes

📋 lawandwhoreder Follow

guys i know it's real fun to think people just can predict whatever but if you look at the earliest reblogs of that post that "guessed" the true killer in the dl-6 case it was actually a post about how they didn't want to go to the store. clearly edited

#stg nobody bothers to factcheck anything anymore

7,293 notes

🐺 lawnewolf Follow

i am NOT homophobic or whatever the fuck you guys are saying now i just think its weird to write fanfiction about realass people?? go touch grass ffs

🌈 lawsbian Follow

the fun police (this guy) putting me in yaoi court but the lawyers (phoenix witrght and miles edgeworth) just keep trying to make out (real court is like this too btw)

🐺 lawnewolf Follow

YOU HAVE SOMETHING WRONG WITH YOU.

#look idc what your enemies to lovers fic bullshit says #they're straight. and more importantly REAL PEOPLE. #there's TENSION because they are in COURT and there are LIVES on the LINE. #not because they wanna fuck. god.

12,293 notes

🔮 inhighspirits Follow

why dont they just ask the spirit mediums to ask the victims who killed them this law shit is easy

837,495 notes

💞 lawveyourself Follow

seriously i cant believe they gave this guy a law degree

💞 lawveyourself Follow

what do you mean evidence fraud

503,893 notes

🎧 instrumentalillness Follow

fuck you *unguilties your love*

384,568 notes

🎀 copiicat Follow

perjury isnt illegal btw in fact if youre one of tge witnesses youre legally required to lie on the stand. thats why everyone does it. trust me

[mad-hunts]

as far as jack could tell, jervis was really out of it; and it made him wonder it was due to something that had happened while he was out with his father, or when they'd gotten here. perhaps both. jack gnawed on his bottom lip, his eyes darting to jervis's hands, which were flexing like he was struggling with something. an eyebrow rose as jack contemplated asking whether he needed some pain medication.

since he didn't receive an answer to his question yet, jack figured he might as well introduce himself. ❝ uhh, well, you don't have to talk to me if you aren't feeling up to it. my sister told me that you fainted in front of her out there — so, i understand if you're still feeling sick. my name is jack, ❞ he scratched at the back of his neck as he continued to observe jervis. whenever the man tried to get up, jack approached him and was about to caution jervis that maybe he shouldn't by lightly touching his shoulder.

but he remembered matilda telling him something about the other really not liking to be touched, so he merely was going to verbally tell him. up until jervis laid back down himself, anyhow. jack couldn't hold himself back from frowning at his poor present state before venturing out of the room with a 'i'll be right back.' and indeed he had been, with two different vials, alongside a few syringes to inject into that IV bag: should jervis want to be medicated. jack figured it'd be easier to just do that rather than forcing him to swallow anything.

he placed those also on the table before tilting his head at the quote jervis had said until it clicked a few seconds later, ❝ that's a quote from through the looking glass, isn't it? and one that the red queen said in the story if i remember correctly. she was basically teaching alice that staying in the same place is falling behind, right? ❞ jack squinted his eyes at that before a thought came to mind. a soft snort left him, but one that was done of an innocent sort of amusement rather than malice. ❝ that is a kind of roundabout way of talking about survival of the fittest. but hey, lewis carroll was all about the whimsy of things, i guess. and its no big deal. ❞

jack pretended not to see the tears that the other shed for jervis's own sake. the blood on his lips was something he couldn't ignore, no matter how hard he tried, though. jack grabbed a washcloth from his pack and held it out towards's jervis's hand. once it was out of his hand was when jack set down that teacup, the slightly too long stripped pants he wore swaying across the ground. ❝ mm, you and dad were both asleep for nearly four hours. sure — i don't think that's silly at all. i keep something on me all the time from when my brother, julien, was still around. ❞ the bracelet he showed the other on his right wrist then seemed to be made up entirely of tiny conch shells.

julien was a big fan of the sea, which jack thought made his death all the more crushing. after seeing the state that the stuffed animal was in, he figured that that bunny must've been really loved; though it didn't really matter by whom it was. the end result was the same, as love changes you. jack knew this well as he'd never wanted anything more than to be embraced by the warmth of it.

he quickly shook that thought off, only to grab the two vials he got from the fridge once more. ❝ eh... the four hours actually went by rather fast. ❞ jack cleared his throat then, ❝ you know, i couldn't help but notice that you aren't looking so hot still, and so i grabbed some meds for you. but i won't force you to take them. i have a pain reliever as well as something that relieves vertigo. are either, or both of these, something you want? ❞

Eigengrau.

A faint hum buzzed in his ears; his mouth was so dry it felt like he’d swallowed a wad of wool.

The thin sheet beneath him brushed his fingertips as Jervis flexed his hands, cracking his eyes open a sliver. The room tilted, everything blurring at the edges. Ah… so he had fainted. Just as he’d suspected. No glasses, then.

"Hey. Ahh, you're awake… That's awesome. How are you feeling?"

The new voice was barely a whisper, young and uncertain—belonging to a boy, maybe sixteen or eighteen by the timber. Was this another of Barton's assistants, a friend of Matilda’s, or perhaps her brother? Jervis couldn’t quite remember; hadn't Barton mentioned something about having more than one child?

He winced, his body feeling heavy, leaden; aching everywhere. Slowly, he exhaled and tried to push himself upright—tried being the keyword. The effort brought only a wave of vertigo, dizzying and blue-hot, making his vision swim.

… ohh, god…

He swallowed thickly, curling into himself. Something wasn’t right. His glasses and gloves weren’t the only thing missing. He was in his socks, jeans, and a now damp charcoal t-shirt, his body slick with cold sweat. His graying auburn curls clung to his neck in tangled ropes. His boots were beside the cot, his messenger bag on a desk across the room. His overcoat and maroon button-down were draped over a chair.

A flicker of discomfort in his right arm. Burning. Tugging.

Jervis glanced down at the source: a plastic tube. A peripheral IV catheter.

"Ah, you know... 'It takes all the running you can do, to stay in the same place,'" he muttered, his voice clipped and hollow; Bermudian accent casual, almost detached. He turned his eyes to the boy; offered him a faint, strained smile. "Keeps things interesting, I suppose... but I appreciate your concern, lad."

He lifted his fingers to his cheek, feeling the moisture trickle down—salt on his lips. Tears, sharp and stinging. Jervis flinched and quickly scrubbed them away with the heels of his hands.

Cold metal pressed into his spine, tight around his neck—the chain with his and Sylvie’s wedding rings twisted against his skin. He must’ve been thrashing in his sleep. There was blood on his lips.

"Forgive me…" His vision swam as he watched the boy set a teacup on the small table beside the cot, just within view. "But I'm afraid I've rather lost my sense of time. How long has it been since I…?" He paused, his voice barely steady. "... if... if you don’t mind, could you please reach into my coat pocket? You'll find a small cuddly toy. A rabbit..." He rubbed his mouth, lowered his eyes. "It sounds foolish, I know... but it... it was my daughter's, you see..."

The boy nodded, moving quickly to retrieve the toy from Jervis’ coat pocket, and placed it on the table beside the teacup. The bunny was missing one of its button eyes, its white fur faded and matted. A pink satin ribbon around its neck was frayed and tattered.

“Thank you,” Jervis said hoarsely. “I must have been out of it for quite a while.”

[cuntyji]

everyone’s talking about nerd gojo (thank you @to00fu for the meal), but what about nerd nanami? and i’m not talking about just any nerd nanami, im talking about letterboxd nerd! nanami — 

who wears a “directed by quentin tarantino” tshirt under his suit because he's a bit embarassed about unironically liking this type of merch, and who actually reads through all the letterboxd published articles from cover to cover.

his profile is so organised and he leaves such beautifully written and critical reviews that people who read it go crazy and spam the review’s comments section with “who is this diva 😭” and “WHO LET BRO COOK 🗣️” (he doesn’t understand the meaning of these phrases, but yuuji told him they’re positive phrases so he lets them be).

he's very selective about who he follows — a few of his irl's do know he's on letterboxd, but when they ask him for his profile he does not bother entertaining them. it's not that he's ashamed of his profile or taste, he just likes to keep his irl's seperate from his online activity. 

letterboxd nerd! nanami is heavily against piracy, and he refuses to opt for the “easy way out” when it comes to watching regional films. (he once took a flight all the way to paris on a weekday just to watch a movie that hadn't started international screening).

not to mention, he has a lot of friends that are directors, producers, script-writers, actors etc…it's not even a flex, he was genuinely the most supportive figure in their lives when they were starting out, and often times he gets free tickets or VIP passes to special movie screenings as a way of thanks.

letterboxd nerd! nanami is always one of the top three or five reviews in most trending movies on letterboxd, but imagine his horror when casual letterboxd user! reader bests his review and pushes him down to seventh place.

the horror.

and it's not even a “good” review, as nanami says —  it's just a rant about how hot the cast is. and for some outrageous reason, everyone seems to be upvoting your poorly written review instead of his meticulously detailed review about the script writing, acting, soundtrack, camera angles…you get what i mean. 

naturally, letterboxd nerd! nanami is pissed. 

and he's even more so when he realizes that casual letterboxd user! reader doesn't even log films on the daily — no, it seems more like you just remember this app exists and then log in whatever you just watched. you didn't even bother putting up a profile picture up until yesterday. and why the hell have you rated most of the disney movies a 5/5? do you not know what an objective rating is? 

letterboxd nerd! nanami, after stalking your watched list, prays you never come online to log your films again. he can't afford to be bested by you again. until he sees a notification that makes him groan out loud in annoyance — 

y/ncore has started following you.

bonus: nerd gojo and letterboxd nerd! nanami are mutuals and close friends on letterboxd (under aliases of course), but both of them hate each other irl — nerd gojo mocks him for spending time on “lame” things like movies, while letterboxd nerd! nanami scoffs at his blatant attitude of “not appreciating cinema.”

[astonmartinii]

day two: i saw mommy kissing santa claus | fernando alonso social media au

pairing: fernando alonso x fem lawson reader (liam's mom)

first he tries to take him out on track and now he takes his MOM?

christmas song: i saw mommy kissing santa claus - jackson 5

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

liamlawson30

liked by fernandoalo_oficial, yukitsunoda0511 and 104,505 others

tagged: yourusername

liamlawson30: a full time f1 driver and i still can't escape the christmas duties

view all comments

user1: momma lawson is such a jumpscare every time

user1: a jumpscare in my PANTS

user1: woah why am i blocked by fernando alonso ???

yukitsunoda0511: you're so ungrateful i would decorate anything for momma lawson

yourusername: have i ever told you you're my favourite yuki ?

yukitsunoda0511: hehehehehehe

liamlawson30: huh ???

maxverstappen1: i hate to burst your bubble chicos but momma lawson told me in brazil that I'M her favourite sooooooo

liamlawson: MUM?

yourusername: i can't help my maternal urges i had to tell him i was proud of him !!!

estebanocon: she also told me she's proud of me

pierregasly: and me!

yukitsunoda0511: SHE'S OUR MUM NOW LIAM

liamlawson30: WHAT IS HAPPENING ??????

user2: the f1 grid is so weak sauce - you saw momma lawson and thought maternal figure first and not MILF

liamlawson30: can yall shut the fuck up there's too many of you to block at once

user3: don't have such a hot mum then ???

liamlawson30: HOW IS THAT MY FAULT?

user4: i'd actually be more annoyed if i were you liam because you clearly did NOT get her genes

liamlawson30: mum they're calling me ugly :(

yourusername: you're the prettiest angel in the paddock to me bub

alexalbon: i assume my invite to the lawson christmas festivities is still valid

liamlawson30: obvs and you have to bring lily, mum's rules

alexalbon: we'll bring the sangria @yourusername

yourusername: u guys are stars !!!

liamlawson30: why would we need sangria? that's not very christmassy ?

alexalbon: oh my sweet summer child

user5: what do they know 🤨

yourusername

liked by liamlawson30, fernandoalo_oficial and 82,091 others

yourusername: christmas is serious business in this house

view all comments

user6: A MAN???

user7: first of all that could just be liam

yukitsunoda0511: he's no where near that tall

user8: also y/n is a boy mom but not THAT kind of boy mom

liamlawson30: okay 1. the house looks great i can't wait for the christmas break 2. WHO THE FUCK IS THAT ?

yourusername: ummmm language?

liamlawson30: oh i am sorry - whomst is that GROSS ASS MAN WHO HAS HIS GROSS ASS PAWS ON YOU

yourusername: liam, let's not be rude online he's probably reading this

yourusername: let's make a good impression!

liamlawson30: how about we give NO IMPRESSION EVER

user9: oh liam is going through it

maxverstappen1: i for one am excited to meet our new dad

liamlawson30: BACK OFF DUTCHIE

maxverstappen1: that's not very nice liam, i'm telling dad

liamlawson30: you know what i don't want that red bull seat anymore

fernandoalo_oficial: those decorations are definietly fitting for a woman like yourself

yourusername: why thank you nando

liamlawson30: what are you doing here?

liamlawson30: is bothering me on track not enough?

fernandoalo_oficial: you have no idea

liamlawson30: huh ???

user10: my spider senses are tingling

user11: so we all know who the man is right?

liamlawson30: so tell me???

user12: bro is afraid of context cues

alexalbon: leave him it's funnier to watch him try and work it out

liamlawson30: ALEX?

fernandoalo_oficial

liked by carlossainz55, oscarpiastri and 562,095 others

tagged: yourusername

fernandoalo_oficial: call me santa because i found my mrs claus

view all comments

user15: i just fell to my knees in a walmart

user16: i don't know which one i'm more heartbroken about losing

user17: don't be dumb it's obvs momma lawson

liamlawson30: EH????

liamlawson30: FERNANDO ALONSO?

liamlawson30: @yourusername YOU'RE DATING FERNANDO ALONSO?

yourusername: yes! are you not happy? i thought you loved fernando?

liamlawson30: I DID?

liamlawson30: like i liked him as a driver? i thought it was cool that he's a world champion? NOT DATING MY MUM

yourusername: well i wasn't going to stay single forever bub

liamlawson30: BUT WHY HIM? EVERYONE CALLS YOU A MILF YOU COULD GET ANYONE

fernandoalo_oficial: liam i think you'll find i am a CATCH

liamlawson30: well i'm not calling him dad

fernandoalo_oficial: for now you can call me santa ;)

liamlawson30: PLEASE FUCK OFF

fernandoalo_oficial: well for that you're on the naughty list

liamlawson30: what are you gonna take me out on track again???

fernandoalo_oficial: i wasn't... but now you mention it

liamlawson30: MUM MAKE HIM STOP :(

yourusername: well that went great!

user18: let me grab my popcorn real quick

user19: this is so messy ... i love it!

user20: poor liam got a full time seat, immediately got on fernando's shit list and now has him a step dad ???

liamlawson30: idk which cosmic entity i pissed off but can they PLEASE STOP

user21: real question is what garage is y/n going to be in for the next race...

user22: oh god...

maxverstappen1: personally i think she'll be in her favourite driver's garage but that's just me...

yukitsunoda0511: both of her sons are in the RB garage?

fernandoalo_oficial: have you ever considered i am sexier than all of you

yourusername: considering they're my KIDS that's probably a good thing ???

visacashapprb

liked by maxverstappen1, yukitsunoda0511 and 329,055 others

tagged: liamlawson30, yourusername & yukitsunoda0511

visacashapprb: we won the momma lawson custody battle

view all comments

user23: the way she was never not gonna be in her SONS garage but this is cute tho!

user24: idk but sky constantly cutting to fernando standing outside of the garage blowing her kisses has cracked me up

user25: he's so down bad... ur 42 STAND UP

fernandoalo_oficial: i didn't know there was an age limit on love ???

liamlawson30: LOVE?

yourusername: obviously i would be in my baby's garage :(

visacashapprb: we didn't doubt you momma lawson but we did see you sneaking over to ... them

liamlawson30: mUM?

yourusername: you were in debrief? and the coffee at rb sucks :(

visacashapprb: but we have complementary red bull!

yourusername: do i look like i'm at the age that i can be drinking red bull all the time?

visacashapprb: yes!

fernandoalo_oficial: are you flirting with my girlfriend?

visacashapprb: NO!

yourusername: so you don't think i'm pretty?

visacashapprb: admin is going to have a breakdown i'm logging OFF

user26: even the social media admins have a crush on momma lawson?

redbullracing: well of course

scuderiaferrari: we're not blind?

mercedesamgf1: we're only human <3

fernandoalo_oficial: just how many of you do i have to fight?

astonmartinf1: you may have won the battle but you have NOT won the war

visacashapprb: it's ON

user27: they're on here fighting but do they know that both y/n and fernando are currently live on sky sports with jenson ...

visacashapprb: HUH?

user28: the way jenson roped liam in as well and brother does NOT want to be there

user29: the way fernando had his arm around y/n and liam literally pushed through it to stand between them

user30: this whole lil family are quickly become my faves

liamlawson30

liked by yukitsunoda0511, maxverstappen1 and 204,506 others

tagged: yourusername & fernandoalo_oficial

liamlawson30: her siri play i saw mommy kissing santa claus and then schedule my SUICIDE

view all comments

user32: glad to see we're keeping very cool, calm and collected

user33: liam really is the irritable queen representation on the grid

user34: i mean after the last few races if i saw fernando at the bottom of my stairs dressed as SANTA i would also be bamboozled

yourusername: my two favourite boys home for christmas, it really is the most wonderful time of the year <3

liamlawson30: i literally said i want to kill myself in the caption?

yourusername: i'm ignoring that

liamlawson30: well what you can't ignore is the fact i can see fernando putting all of MY CHRISTMAS CHEESECAKES IN HIS CAR?

fernandoalo_oficial: THERE IS NO THREATENING SUCIDE IN THIS HOUSE OVER CHRISTMAS

fernandoalo_oficial: save that for when it matters - holding it over your team!

liamlawson30: okay?

yourusername: see liam - endless advice :)

user35: this endless advice being to threaten to kill yourself anytime your team wrongs you ???

user36: @charles_leclerc please take notes

maxverstappen1: for my own peace of mind i'm going to ignore this also

liamlawson30: i'm not going to kill myself max ?

liamlawson30: i won't give fernando the satisfaction

maxverstappen1: oh i don't give a fuck about that

maxverstappen1: i was talking about momma lawson saying YOU are her favourite

liamlawson30: of course i am - it's FERNANDO WHO SHOULDN'T BE

maxverstappen1: why wouldn't fernando be a favourite, he's my favourite old guy as well

fernandoalo_oficial: why thank you max - you're invited to christmas!

liamlawson30: you can't just invite people to christmas at my house

fernandoalo_oficial: i think you'll find it's my house now

liamlawson30: i'd slash your tires but i actually do want you to leave!

user37: i love how momma lawson just lets them scrap it out in the comments

yourusername: gotta let them get it out over the internet so they're normal in person, like a dog getting their zoomies out

user38: i fear you have the patience of a saint

yourusername: i love them both so much i just got let them get through this phase

user39: how long until you actually get annoyed

yourusername: if they argue through another episode of real housewives of beverely hills the get along t-shirt is coming out

yukitsunoda0511

liked by pierregasly, alexalbon and 304,509 others

tagged: liamlawson, yourusername & fernandoalo_oficial

yukitsuonoda0511: liam may complain but i would NEVER miss a christmas with momma lawson

view all comments

user40: oh to be making gingerbread men with momma lawson

yukitsunoda0511: we made the whole grid :)

user41: wait that's so cute

yukitsunoda0511: and we recreated all the crashes this season hehehehe

user42: see this is why i wasn't shocked about her being with fernando - they're clearly just as chaoatic as each other

liamlawson30: it's not cute, she made their gingerbreadselves kiss :|

fernandoalo_oficial: why when she could have the real thing?

yourusername: hehehehehe

liamlawson30: LEAVE ME ALONE

user43: i kinda hope liam never gets over this

user44: well the way that twitter got hopeful after they were talking during the drivers parade but then liam was out there during the race blaming fernando for things lance was doing LOL

user45: convinced he could see a bright ass ferrari and still be like 'fernando is out to kill me'

yourusername: we love having you yuki <333

yukitsunoda0511: you think i'd miss your festive sushi night? over my dead body

yourusername: it's a tradition now :3

user46: she really has been momma bear for so many of the younger drivers i'm so excited to see how many she can pick up now liam has a full time drive

fernandoalo_oficial: do NOT GIVE HER IDEAS

yourusername: but nando they're all so cute

fernandoalo_oficial: i only just got you i don't want to have to share already :(

yourusername: i'm all yours baby don't worry

fernandoalo_oficial: i'm yours forever x

fernandoalo_oficial: also no adopting franco he 100% has a crush on you

francocolapinto: SORRY NOT SORRY XXX

user47: no kick off from liam after those cute comments? progress?

user48: maybe he's finally been defeated by them lol

liamlawson30: i'm tired

liamlawson30: and they don't even listen to me

fernandoalo_oficial: you're 22 years old liam i'm not gonna listen to you when you're stomping your feat in lightning mcqueen slippers

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo and 124,056 others

tagged: liamlawson30 & fernandoalo_oficial

yourusername: my santa baby remembered i wanted a ring

view all comments

user49: holy mother that is a ROCK

user50: fernando said i'm gonna make you mine and i'm gonna make sure people KNOW and are jealous

user51: i always forget he's been an f1 driver since before liam was born and is rich AS FUCK

liamlawson30: okay i'll accept fernando now i guess

fernandoalo_oficial: finally !!! i knew you loved me really liam

liamlawson30: it's mainly because you bought me a car for christmas

fernandoalo_oficial: well i thought it was a nice gift but now i just feel like a weird sugar daddy

liamlawson30: but i guess i also like that you make my mum super happy

fernandoalo_oficial: well i love her so i'd hope so

liamlawson30: i'll still never call you dad even if you're married

fernandoalo_oficial: normal service resumed i see

user52: you know what? i'll call that progress!

yourusername: liam won't tell you guys but he did cry just as much as me

liamlawson30: i'm a tough guy !!!!!

liamlawson30: and also SORRY i am happy for you :(

yourusername: you were just going through your teenage rebellion phase in your 20s were you?

liamlawson30: yes!

fernandoalo_oficial: i have never felt love like this and can't wait to spend forever with you

yourusername: you made me the happiest girl in the world at the happiest time of the year

fernandoalo_oficial: you saying yes is the best christmas gift i could ever ask for

yourusername: there's no way i could ever say no to you

liamlawson30: i can tell - why did you get him a cat for christmas? we're a dog family :/

yourusername: LIAM???

liamlawson30: whoops! 😬 spoiler alert

fernandoalo_oficial: you got me a cat !!!! amor !!!!!

yourusername: well a proposal put my suprise of bruno to shame :( (we're going to pick him up tomorrow)

fernandoalo_oficial: don't talk about my favourite son like that - i love cats and i love you <333

liamlawson30: i was just being nice to you and now i relegated to below a CAT?

yourusername: that's bruno to you sir

liamlawson30: i actually can't win

fernandoalo_oficial: ANYWAY i love you y/n thanks for giving me a furry son and for being with me forever xxx

yourusername: i love you more xxx

user53: is it ever not a rollercoaster in this house

user54: i don't give a fuck this christmas gave us the return of cat dad fernando and y/n lawson-alonso ???

fin.

note: day twoooooooooooo enjoy for the first of december! i had a great day because chelsea won and i got my DREAM f1 podium for qatar xxxx

[thingsimscaredtosayonmain]

hi, I saw a post on my dash like five minutes ago that was talking about nudity in a nonsexual context and etc. And it was one of those posts that really reminded me why I love the internet. I get to see and hear from so many different people!

like, for context, I grew up in a very conservative, very religious setting, and have been abused. So because of all of those things combined whenever anyone even remotely mentions sex or nudity my brain immediately goes "dangerdangerdanger" It's not a mindset I want to have, but it's one that's been forged out of trauma and toxic upbringings. The point is that because of the wonders of the internet I got to see a post that goes against a harmful mindset I have and reminded me not only to check it, but to be more aware of it in the future. It forced me to realize that my morals (is that the correct word?) of "children shouldn't be hurt" and "being a puritan about everything is not good and Actively Dangerous" are not ideas that need to compete but rather coexist.