#it feels a little hopeless sometimes. makes him so very desperate to feel whole.

[touyaz]

winter i am very curious who you think is the very best most important jjk yandere . would you be willing to share your thoughts 🎤

MEGUMI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

no competition! no doubts in my mind!

i just think !! he is so incredibly possessive (+this is the only post coming to mind rn which maybe kind of explains it but he is thee mother hen man™ of jjk to me) but he gets overshadowed by characters like gojou, getou, and yuuta which makes him even scarier bc! you don't see it coming! the signs are all there but it's always too late!!!!!!!!

[on-a-lucky-tide]

Simon tricks Price into their bedroom after getting desperate for his attention. #GhostPriceWeek

Day Two: Heart/Alpha

cw: omegaverse, fingering, penetrative sex, eventual enthusiastic consent, Price's hang ups with his secondary sex, mating marks, knotting. ( @gomzdrawfr )

Simon sat on the edge of the bed and watched Price as he stood by the window, shoulders squared, his hands tucked beneath his arms as they pulled tight over his chest. He was tired and Simon had tricked him into leaving his office by saying he needed his thoughts on some performance data. Price operated better with pen and paper so he was used to being called in for a face to face. Emailing him was pointless at the moment anyway, because he had several hundred in his inbox from two days leave that he was working through, and the whole fuckin’ point was to pry him out from behind his desk. Bloody muppet.

“‘m sorry, know you’ve got a lot on, I jus’..."

“Ya coulda jus’ said, Simon,” Price said tightly, still chewing over his irritation. He didn't like being lied to. And he absolutely didn't like being fuckin' lied to by Simon Riley specifically. It bit at him in a way very little else did.

“Yeah, right, like you wouldn’t’ve made some shitty excuse,” Simon said dryly, folding his own arms now. In his fleece shorts, cotton t-shirt and bare feet, he looked no less broad than if he sat there in a carrier vest with an M4 cradled in his arms, but the soft fall of the material left far less to the imagination, and Price was staring out the window partly because he knew if he looked he would give in. He smelled bloody gorgeous too, warm and inviting, a scent that sat on the back of Price's tongue and made his mouth water. Simon sighed. “You don't ‘ave time, I get it.”

Price bristled. “I woulda made time.”

“Yeah? Bullshit.” 

“Ya givin’ me attitude, lieutenant?”

“Simon's givin’ ya attitude, ya lieutenant finished his fuckin’ paperwork an’ clocked out three hours ago.”

Price flinched and closed his eyes. There had been hurt in Simon's tone; subtle, no more than a tremor in his deadpan rumble, but it had been there. That was Price told; well and truly put in his place. Served him right for being a fuckin’ cunt, didn't it? He pinched the bridge of his nose, shoulders slumping forward. “Sorry, Simon, I… uh, that weren't fair.”

Price heard the bed creak, old springs sighing with relief as Simon's bulk left them, and in the next breath he felt all the warmth of his mate press up against his back. “Yer shagged, love. I can see that. Lemme hold ya, fuck… I'm gaggin’ for a kiss. Anythin’. Haven't even touched ya in weeks. My fuckin’ ‘eart aches.” 

“Sure it's not ya dick?”

“Fuckin’ ‘ell, you grumpy wanker… so, wot? Can't want both? ‘m a man with needs. An’ one is you. All of ya.”

“Didn' ‘ave you down as the hopeless romantic,” Price mumbled, blinking quickly as Simon's warm palms swept around his waist, his nose nuzzling into the fabric of the shemagh wrapped around his neck. “I can't… I've got..”

“Ya can, please, for me… jus’ one night, let me make ya feel good, an’ then fall asleep in my arms. S’all I need an’ ‘ll stop bein’ a needy twat.” 

“Y’ain’t a needy twat.” Price tilted his head against Simon's and let out a deep sigh through his nose. It felt like a ratchet strap had broken loose, his body deflating against Simon's chest. It was so difficult to let him take the wheel; the insecure, indomitable part of Price chafing at the mere hint of submission. But it wasn't submission, was it? It was letting his partner care for him. 

Unlearning the association in his head between intimacy and surrender was a long and winding road, and Simon was so fucking patient with him. So patient that Price felt unworthy of it sometimes. It had to be frustrating to be stuck with an omega whose first instinct was scepticism when offered affection, who had to be coaxed and gentled into spreading his damn legs. Simon could have had the pick of anyone, with the size of him, but he had chosen the scruffy, half chewed wanker in a boonie hat.

Price felt Simon's chapped lips in the bristles of his beard and knew he was desperate to go lower, to close his mouth over the mating mark hidden beneath Price's scarf. It was a level of intimacy Price had always sworn he would extend to no one and it still made him apprehensive in the moments before Simon got there, no matter how many times he proved to be a safe pair of hands. The complete opposite to what anyone would expect of a man that looked like him. Price figured Simon had seen so much brutality from others that he had made the conscious effort to be completely the opposite in his romantic life. 

“See, few weeks without some practice, an’ you're gettin’ anxious again.” Simon's hands slid up Price’s torso, nose tracing his hairline at the back of his neck.

“Not bloody anxious…”

Simon's hand pressed over the left side of Price's chest. “Yer ‘eart says otherwise.” Beneath the pressure, Price could feel it; the frantic thrum of his heart against Simon's palm. The stress of the last few weeks, several operations happening overseas at the same time, all the strings in his hand, left him on a knife edge. The exhaustion was bone deep, his nerves raw. He knew he had become waspish and short with his subordinates, his temper on a trigger even more so than usual…

Some time with Simon would be good for him. Even if his mind still struggled with it all, his body was bonded. Time with his mate would help his mind find the rest that had eluded it for days now, whether it liked it or not. There were some comforts only a bonded pair could provide each other. Price sighed, lifting a hand to twine through Simon's fingers. For fucks sake, it was Simon. This was how it was meant to be. Price was allowed to find comfort in him.

“G’won then. Feel dead on my feet.”

“No need to sound so enthusiastic,” Simon said dryly.

“Yer gonna whine more or you gonna get to it?” Price grumped in return.

Simon responded with a chuckle, rubbing the side of his chin against Price's shoulder. “Bad tempered old bastard.” He said it with such deep affection that Price’s chest felt a little light.

Simon hooked two fingers in Price’s scarf, drawing it off to expose his neck and throat to the cool air. Goosebumps erupted over Price's skin and his arms dropped to his sides, fingers flexing into his palms as he chewed the inside of his cheek. The first few times they had done this, Price had snarled and put Simon on his back, teeth bared, so his jittery anxiety now was progress.

Simon chuffed softly at him, soothing noises made to gentle a distressed omega, and it appealed to Price's base instincts, the ones already luxuriating in the scent of his mated alpha folding around him. His chin dropped forward and he drew in a deep, shuddering breath so that Simon's scent flooded his senses. Simon kissed across the newly exposed skin, palms pulling Price back against his chest so that his scarred lips could reach everything they wanted, and Price lifted unsteady hands to hold his wrists.��

“Breathe, John,” Simon whispered, breath tickling the little hairs on the back of Price's neck.

“Yeah… yeah, right.” As Price’s chest filled, Simon pressed close and dragged the wet flat of his tongue over the sensitive scarring on Price’s neck. Price exhaled with a soft noise, his eyes flickering back, his knees quivering as Simon lapped again. It was like a hundred gentle fingers stroking over his shoulders, down his neck and back to his navel; a tug of pleasure so deep, so instinctual, that it was impossible to resist. 

Damp lips parted, his body sagged into Simon's arms, and Simon chuffed his approval against his skin. Price, his mind eased into a foggy pleasure, offered his first faint trill in response. It curled up his throat, a soft purr, and Simon squeezed him fondly, kissing that mark until Price's knees began to shake again.

“Hmm, easy, love. I've gotcha.” 

Simon guided Price towards the bed and gathered him into his lap, Price's knees bracketing his hips, and Price sank down gratefully, the seat of his trousers pressing to the warm bulge of Simon's crotch as they kissed, Price's hands sliding around Simon's firm jaw. He stayed lost in Simon's mouth as Simon worked his boots and belt off, letting them fall heavily to the floor. His shirt followed, Simon's fingers working down the buttons before pushing it from his shoulders. He pulled it down until the fabric pooled at Price's wrists, trapping them just behind him so that his full chest was thrust out and Simon could kiss the newly exposed skin.

“Ah, Si…” Price gasped. Simon's mouth was bloody heaven; his agile tongue curled around a nipple, lips sinking down to suckle, and Price moaned softly, his hips rolling forward to grind down against the hard length pressed up between his legs. He knew he was getting wet, could feel the slickness in his boxers; it was easy to relax into it when Simon was being so gentle, and his body was so desperate to feel him, the promise of that hard bulge was enough to make him weak.

“Thassit, gonna make you feel so good.” Simon squeezed Price's arse and encouraged the slow rut as he worked over his chest to give the other nipple the same attention. Price squirmed when Simon paused to tug his own shirt over his head and Price shedding his own completely in favour of pushing his fingers into Simon's blond hair, clutching his face close.

Without the cotton barrier, Price could rub himself against Simon's soft body hair, the firm, scorching plains of muscle, the thick musk of his alpha scent coiling around Price's mind like a physical touch, coaxing him deeper into a foggy headspace. He settled into it slowly, reluctant to let his control and alertness slip, but their mated bond smoothed the process. The descent was irresistible when every part of Price, mind and body, wanted to purr with pleasure at Simon's attention.

“Doin’ so good, love,” Simon whispered, his breath hot against Price's sensitive nipple, puckered and hard. He plucked open Price’s fly and slid his hand into the front of his boxers, thumb reaching down to circle the engorged, eager hardness of Price’s cock before dipping into his slit. 

The first touches sent sparks through Price's hips with such intensity that he growled, fingers tightening in Simon's hair. It had been so long. He hadn’t even touched himself in the interim; touchstarved didn't even cover the desperation currently bubbling under his skin. “Fuck, s’too sensitive.”

“Mm, you're jus’ turned on, need to relax. Here, get these off, le’s get comfy.” Simon tapped Price’s waistband and placed a final kiss in the centre of his chest, before relinquishing him. 

Price stood unsteadily, shoving his trousers and boxers to the floor until he stood naked before Simon’s appreciative gaze, his toes curled against the floor as he fought the urge to cover himself like some fair bloody maiden. “Wot?” Price asked, trying to come across authoritative but knowing it was somewhat meak given his flushed he was. He could feel the wetness between his thighs, and couldn't help how his own eyes wandered lower to Simon's crotch. 

“Fuckin’ gorgeous,” Simon replied, his low voice thick with desire. He shuffled back on the bed, creating himself a small pile of pillows to lean back on, and then patted his thighs. “C’mere, lean back. Still look like yer about to breach a room full’ve Al Qatala.”

“They'd ‘ave a nasty surprise,” Price murmured as he clambered onto the bed, setting his rear end down between Simon's legs, his knees gathered to his chest. Strong arms curled around him, big enough to make even Price feel well handled, and he huffed softly as he was drawn back into Simon's warmth. 

“Hm, dunno, think they'd see ya in a whole new light. Body as good as yours might bring world peace,” Simon said against the back of Price’s neck.

Price chuckled low in his throat, squirming a little as Simon's hands stroked up his belly to his chest. “I’ll ask Kate whether she thinks yer idea’s operationally via-ah, fuck, Sim-mmn.” 

Those soft lips had closed around his mating mark again, palms massaging his tits before fingers and thumbs began to caress the soft blush of his nipples. Price’s body relaxed in increments, the slow build of heat and pleasure as Simon stimulated two erogenous zones chasing away the last of the anxious tension keeping his back and shoulders stiff.

Simon slid his palms down the length of Price's body to his thighs, lifting them over his own to spread his omega open, and Price huffed in momentary discomfort. He felt exposed, vulnerable; he glanced at the door, tried to keep his eyes open, but Simon deepened his kiss against Price's mark as one hand returned his chest, the other sliding gently through the folds of his cunt. Three points of warmth, of being covered and protected by Simon's body, grounded in the pleasure and reassurance of his touch. His fingers were firm, possessive, rubbing over flushed, slick skin in skilful passes, thumb and the sides of his fingers circling up and down the glistening length of Price's aching cock. 

Fuck, when had he got so hard and so wet? When had his body become so desperate for Simon's touch that it now throbbed under his fingers? Price made soft, tortured noises of bliss as Simon played with his cunt, suckling harder on his mark to trap Price in a feedback loop of euphoria that overcame the momentary distress of being spread open. 

Simon's moan of appreciation rolled through Price's body from his shoulder, and Price curled an arm up to hold Simon’s head, lifting his hips in encouragement as he surrendered completely to his alpha's hands. Simon's mouth drew away from nursing his mating mark to nibble Price’s ear, muttering soft praise. “Yer so fuckin' sexy…”

Price huffed a soft, delirious laugh at how drunk Simon sounded, slurring out ‘sexy’ like it was treacle on his tongue. Suckling on all those omega pheromones had done a number on him. But Simon soon got his revenge, his second hand joining his first at Price’s cunt, a thick finger sliding inside.

Price lifted his head and looked down the slope of his body, groaning at the sight. There were few things hotter than watching Simon's big hands pawing at his cunt, spreading his slick folds open, teasing and squeezing with perfect pressure while his thick fingers plunged in and out of Price’s hole, glistening with evidence of just how fuckin’ turned on he was, how close to the edge as thrills of pleasure pulsed through his core like an electrical current. Price rocked up into it, throwing his head back as his orgasm tingled at the very edges of his awareness. “Ung, Si… fuck, gonna…”

“Yeah, g’won, don't hold back,” Simon said, and the long, slow lick over Price's mating mark was enough to finish him off. He was skilled enough to slow his caresses as Price came, his entire body tensing up, eye screwing shut as he gasped Simon's name over and over. It was intense, white light behind the eyes, his cunt soaking Simon's palm, and he gasped tightly until the swell of pleasure ebbed lower and he was able to slump, panting, against Simon's chest. In a haze, he watched as Simon lifted his hands away, only to slide his wet fingers into his damn mouth with a satisfied groan. 

“Ya filthy bugger,” Price mumbled, delirious. He flopped away, his cunt still tingling with the aftermath of his orgasm, the air cool against his sweaty back as he sprawled on his front. “Gimme a moment, I'll see t' you.” Simon’s cock was testing the fabric of his shorts, a damp spot soaking through at the tip, and Price’s mouth watered at the thought of the musky taste of it. 

“Oh, love, only one place I wanna be. Tha's knotted inside ya.” Simon lifted his rear and shoved his shorts, his thick cock flopping back against his belly, strong veins running its length from root to tip, ruddy and leaking. Price let out a soft moan, pressing his chest down and lifting his hips a little. The sight and smell of it in the mire of pheromones and arousal, the way he wanted Simon's heavy bulk over him, pushing him down… 

“Oh, fuck, yer wanna be bred, don’tcha, love? Desperate for a good fuckin’ knot, my hot load fillin’ y’up...”

“You got a filthy fuckin’ mouth, Riley…” Price growled, fuck… half moaned. Yeah, he wanted all of that. Every last word.

“Can't help it, seein’ you like this, so ready fer me, does somethin’ to my brain.” Simon rolled onto his hands and knees and crawled over the bed until he was sliding over Price's back, his knees either side of Price’s thighs. The slick head of his cock pressed into Price's slit, nudging the underside of his cock as it slid back and forth, teasing. “Tell me ya want me, John. Tell me ya want me t’ mate ya.”

Price clutched at the sheets, panting, as he felt Simon's huge cock grind against him. His heart hammered in his chest, not through anxiety, but raw, primal need and excitement. He could feel Simon above him, big, thick all over, his body glowing with the heat of arousal, the bulbous tip of his cock pressing insistently against Price’s entrance with each pass. He felt enveloped, overcome, and all he wanted was to feel his alpha inside him. “Yeah, Simon… please… fuck me, please, need ya…”

Simon growled possessively, his cock sinking into Price's cunt all at once, sheathing itself inside him in a single, fluid thrust that knocked the breath from his lungs. He felt so perfectly full, Simon's huge prick satisfying the clutching need tightening in Price's gut. Simon didn't give him a chance to grow used to it, the fullness, and withdrew for another deep thrust that ground his full, heavy balls against Price's slit.

Simon didn't need encouragement, his knees spreading, cock plunging deep. Price cried out as his body was made to yield over and over, relaxed muscles stretching wide, so slick that every thrust sent a hot swell of pleasure licking up Price's spine. Simon curled around his back, big arms bracketing Price’s shoulders as his belly bumped against the curve of his arse, cock welcomed deep inside Price's eager cunt as Price tilted his hips up, his knees digging into the mattress for purchase. 

“Yer so fuckin’ wet, fuck,” Simon groaned, hips slapping loudly, shunting Price into the bed with the force of his movements, strong arms keeping him pinned in place so his body couldn't be forced further away..

And it was so damn bloody good. 

Simon found the perfect angle, punching low moans from Price's chest, stoking a furnace of white hot pleasure in his gut that only intensified when a large hand folded over Price's jaw, thumb slipping between his lips like Simon wanted to possess every damn hole Price had. Demanding lips found his mating mark once more, teeth nipping and tongue laving, short-circuiting Price's brain as he moaned wetly around Simon's thumb. 

Simon was so hard, so fuckin’ big, Price was sure he could feel Simon's heartbeat throbbing through his cunt; a relentless, powerful thrum matching the frantic pump of his own. It was his only anchor, his mind soft, completely enraptured by his alpha’s body, his scent, the sound of his guttural snarls as he took his pleasure and promised to come deep inside his omega’s cunt. Price's body was like Semtex, manipulated in Simon's hands until the very moment he wanted it to detonate. 

“Harder, fuck… Simon, harder, yeah, yeah, like that, mmm, ahh!”

“Such a greedy hole, perfect fit for my dick,” Simon growled, his voice tight.

The stretch intensified as Simon's knot began to swell, forcing Price wider, and Price would have been ashamed of the wrecked wails breaking from his throat if he'd had much awareness left. Simon had fucked him senseless, his mouth hanging open, his hands scrambling at his sheets, his entire body numb and alight with sensation at the same time. Just a snug, wet, eager hole for Simon to fuck. He balanced there on the edge, his toes and fingers tingling, the intensity of the pleasure making his cunt spasm and flutter around the relentless piston of Simon's cock.

Price lost track of how long he was pinned beneath his alpha's body, gloriously helpless as Simon hollowed him out, wringing pleasure from him without mercy. Price needed that knot to fill, and each time it popped in and out of him was sweet torture. He needed it swollen in his cunt, locking his alpha inside him, needed to be filled so absolutely that he didn't have room to breathe, as Simon brimmed him with his seed. 

Such a desire would have disgusted him before he had bonded with Simon and perhaps, in the cold light of day it would again, but in the frenzied heat of their coupling, the thought of it made him almost mad with need. It was primal, instinctual, born from millions of years of evolution. 

Simon's hips stuttered, slapping hard in two final thrusts, before his knot ground into Price's cunt as his cock pumped him full of cum. Price moaned loudly as he was bred, Simon's teeth massaging around the scent gland beneath his mating mark to hold him still. Price's climax poured through him in answer to the flood of heat inside him, his channel clutching at Simon's knot, milking it in tight pulses as Simon rocked his hips in slow, lazy rolls, as if he could fuck his spend deeper into Price's body. 

“Christ, yer a fuckin’ dream…” Simon slurred, mouth drawing away to lap at Price’s mark between each word. His cock was still twitching, and he groaned when Price's body squeezed in response.

“Was so good, Si… so fuckin’ good…”

“My cock, my knot, everythin', s’all yours, ‘m yours… love you, John. Love you so fuckin’ much. Get so low when yer not here, when we can't be close.”

Price twisted as much as he could for the kiss, their tongues lapping together through parted lips. It was a promise. Price could do better. He could make the time. He had to. All they had was each other, and apart, without an opportunity to mate, to hold each other, their hearts ached. And he had been a prized fuckin’ wanker for being up his own arse about it earlier. It was hard enough for Simon to ask for things without Price adding to the hurdles. 

With a soft sigh of contentment, Simon nuzzled Price's hair after their lips had parted and Price's face fell back to the sheets. In the haze of fucked out bliss, Price melted into the bed, his alpha knotted deep inside him, heavy body draped over, protective bulk caging him in, Price closed his eyes and drifted…

When Simon's knot went down some fifteen minutes later, he withdrew gently, rolling Price onto his back. Price arched as kisses trailed down his chest and belly, moaned softly when those chapped lips reached his cock and sucked it hungrily, before that clever tongue slid into his cunt to taste their coupling. Simon's big palms rested on the inside of Price’s thighs, pressing them out, but Price didn't need coaxing; he threw his arms above his head and rolled his hips slowly against Simon's mouth with wanton abandon, gasping and moaning encouragement, his legs spread wide so Simon could tongue and kiss his sensitive cunt without restraint.

Simon was his, and he was Simon's, and for the rest of the night, that was all that mattered. Two lovers, one heartbeat.

[ahoppingmagician]

Stolitz Rant

Now before I shit on the ship and Stolas' whole character, I have to give Spindle Horse some praise. Seeing Blitzo go off on Stolas was like eating your gran's food, comforting, something that you waited for, and fulfilling. Blitzo pleading like a desperate animal for the book was actually very potent, I won't get too much into my life but I have done things similar for people in my past to stay even though it was a dysfunction mess.

Alright that's my little hat's off to you Viv. Now let's get to my problem with this ship.

Unhealthy in a Bad Way

It's unhealthy. Now that inherently isn't the bad thing, now before you judge me too hard, I'll explain. If a pairing is presented as toxic that's not my issue but rather how it is handled. Stolitz isn't really presented by the show's narrative to be a horrible mess that should of died as soon as the two grew apart in their adult life. Instead it is presented like a us verses them. Romeo and Juliet type of romance. Now it doesn't really work that way because of everything that one side has done.

Stolas Sucks

I hate this fucking rich bird man, he was such good villian potential, until someone named Vivziepop got to attached to him, and tried to change the story for him to be a hopeless romantic who has a tragic home life, a damsel in distress who needs his knight in shiny armor to save him, instead of what he is a creepy rich man taking advantage of someone, and is definitely just seeing Blitzo as a toy in every since of the word.

If Stolas wants Blitzo to fuck him then it's fine because HE wants it. If HE decided that his daughter needs to be around someone who has ruined her family then she will because Stolas wants it, not even bothering to ask the man in question if he's comfortable with that arrangement. Blitzo doesn't like how he treats him, doesn't matter because Stolas likes it. HE doesn't want Blitzo to have the book anymore and Blitzo will just blindly accept it because that's what Stolas wants. This man with a child acts like a whiny little baby because the man who he has harassed, stalked, coerced into having sex with him, and treats like some kind of exotic pet, doesn't trust him when he gives him the stupid crystals because it goes against want HE wants to happen.

All of that was to point out how self serving this dumbass is.If Stolas wants it to go that way it just will because he deserves it after having an abusive wife. Now abuse is a serious subject, but it's clear as day that Stella was made to be abusive to make Stolas seem understandable. Also doesn't help that the story neglects to inform you that Stolas and Stella had Octavia at 19 and were both victims of the higher class by being forced into this marriage at like 16.

My Big Problem

Now I'll get into the whole contract to sex thing and how morally backrupt he is. This rich man knew how vital that book was for his obsession's business, to the point that he was literally stealing it from him on his birthday. Now like a reasonable man he kicked him out and never made any terrible decision ever, sadly no he fucked him and really liked it. So sometime later the bird man was in his bathtub and called his side piece, while Blitzo is in obvious distress he gives him an offer and won't shut up till he verbally agrees, which the imp did. Now what part of this is romantic? Or even sexy in a taboo way. Like what in the Wattpad is this arrangement. This feels like a ripoff of a book that just shows a toxic relationship like it's suppose to be good, Fifty Shades of Gray. A similar dynamic to our two men here weirdly enough. Which originally was a fanfiction. Now my dear reader like I said a toxic relationship in media isn't inherently bad, but if it is written badly then we have a problem. Why? you may ask me. Simple early teens watch this show, edgy kids watch this show. I personally think kids are fucking radical little guys, but they are also easily influenced. A show that paints this unhealthy relationship as good and worth all the fighting, that it is worth all the heartbreak and trauma because one day it might get better, key word might. For some viewers maybe it was their first gay relationship they were exposed to. This could shift the way they look at LGBT+ relationships as more taboo or sexy instead of it being just another relationship.

Now I'll wrap this rant up, next will be M&M relationship a d how I think it has some accidental toxic underlining, hopefully I can also get my solutions to this and M&M out today aswell.

As always you look fabulous, I'll eat your least favourite organ if you don't say something nice to yourself today. If your having a not getting out of bed day, it's alright the world is scary and you can try again tomorrow.

[adamsrcnan]

a companion piece, to this post.

Jeremy knox spent his whole life falling in and out of love. He knew, rationally, it wasn't really love. It couldn't be, if it was so fleeting. But he fell nonetheless.

In and out.

So, Jeremy had supposed it would always be this way. People had made his heart race and his stomach flutter. Had altered his brain chemistry and also left him in despair. Sometimes they had left first, and sometimes he had. None of them had really mattered much though in the grand scheme of Jeremy's life.

He worried often if it was a flaw in his system that made his emotions so overpowering. That made his want so desperate. Some kind of identity crisis that made him latch on to a person every time, even though he knew deep down it wasn't quite enough. His sisters called him a romantic. His friends called him hopeless.

But Jeremy Knox just wanted to be loved. He wanted a healthy outlet for all he was willing to give another person. He wanted someone who shook his world up but also made everything still.

Practice was in full swing around him, and though Jeremy was locked in (he rarely ever wasn't) he couldn't stop the persistent thoughts about love echoing through his head.

He jogged across the court, waving over his backliners to follow him as they convened with their goalies to go over plays as they prepared for their next scrimmage.

One person's absence was quickly noticeably felt. Like a phantom limb. Jeremy scanned the court as he came to a stop three quarters down.

His eyes found him instantly, as they would in any room.

Jean Moreau.

He sat on the far end across the space from Jeremy and his little gathering. His eyes were closed his head leaning back against the plexi glass walls. His racquet was clutched in his hands and even from here Jeremy could tell he was grounding himself in the present moment. Catching his breath.

Jeremy allowed him.

Though it took everything in him to keep his feet planted where they were.

He spoke quickly to his team directing them on positions and plays. A few ideas he and Jean had cooked up during their late night practice sessions. His team nodded their heads in understanding and broke away to take up their positions on the court.

Jeremy stayed where he was and watched Jean. He remembered then, just last night, how Jean had checked him and Jeremy without thinking had latched onto Jean's jersey to prevent a fall. Jean had acted quickly, wrapping his arms around Jeremy, dropping his racquet to the floor in efforts to save Jeremy from the fall.

They had stared at each other for a beat too long before Jeremy spoke. Cheeks flooded with heat.

"Kinda defeats the purpose of a check, no?"

Jean huffed out a laugh. Jeremy couldn't see the way his lips twitched under his helmet, but he knew the way they would have. He had memorised the lines and, albeit very limited, expressions Jean had worn on his face.

No, Jeremy had never really fallen in love before. He had felt bursts of it, here and there, with girls and boys alike. But nothing really compared to the feeling he got as his body moved towards Jean now.

As if pulled by some invisible string. One that had always been there, from the very first day this beautiful but hurt boy had stepped out of the airport. It had lay loose and unmoving, only now Jeremy was certain it was being tugged at from the other end. And he was not going to fight it.

He came to a stop in front of Jean, and kneeled down on one knee. His forearm coming to rest up on the other.

"Jean," he said. Anticipating the ocean grey that would pull him under.

His eyes opened. Jeremy sank.

He smiled instinctively, without thought.

"Ready to jump back in?"

Jean moved forward then, pressing into his space. Jeremy let him.

His lip twitched.

Suddenly, he closed the gap. Pressing his forehead into Jeremy's. Jeremy smiled wider then and pressed back, their sweat making their skin stick. The intimacy of it filled Jeremy up with warmth from his fingers to his toes. He could spend his whole life bathing in the light of Jean's soft glow.

"Oui," he said.

His french slipping from between his lips, a whispered confirmation. Sure, he was just answering Jeremy's question. But the intensity in Jean's gaze felt like it meant more.

Jean stood then and his hand wrapped around Jeremy's, engulfing it completely, as he effortlessly hauled him up off the floor. All bone and sinew. His hands were calloused and rough and Jeremy had spent one too many nights dreaming of them.

Jean smiled down at him, sweet and lasting, before he strode off to his position on the court.

Jeremy dropped his gaze down and felt the size of his grin pull at his cheeks, as warmth blossomed under his skin. He looked up again and locked eyes with Laila across the court. Her eyebrows lifted a smirk on her face and Jeremy's grin never faltered.

Jermey knew, then, there would be no more falling in and out of love. Just falling. Knowing that he'd be caught this time.

[hugh-lauries-bald-spot]

Hate to be that bird, dreadful business really, but would you be comfortable to share your opinion on who does what during the good old horizontal waltz in the Jooster bedchambers?

Oh YES id be more than comfortable, i have Thoughts!!

I think, for the most part, jeeves tops and hes VERY good at it. Hes fast, hes powerful, hes a little shit who can edge to save a life, hes got stamina aplently. Hes an absolute BEAST.

Bertie will always be a bottom to me, hes vocal, hes verbal, hes a beggar, and asker and a demander. I think they (sorry how bad this is gonna sound) fit together very well in that respect. Jeeves likes that desperate side of bertie, that hopeless need. But he insists on good manners from his master, and bertie is happy to oblige. Bertie gets off on being jeeves'

That being said, bertie can also be dominant, jeeves is pleased to serve his master and does it with velvet lips and devilishly talented fingers

Bertie is also an absolute madman, hes riding that thing like his whole life depends on it. He knows how to move his hips to please em both.

And youll note i said "for the most part" when it comes to jeeves topping, because i think, after a long day of doing everything for everyone, sometimes he just wants to be pleasured, and what i think Little Wooster might lack in width he makes up for in speed and a curve. Besides, jeeves sitting on him, pink cheeked and relaxed is enough to send any man into a frenzy.

I dont think, however, that bertie has the same stamina when it comes to topping, so its a bit of a one and done afair most of the time.

Bertie is also a fiend at sucking dick, total blowjob queen, absolutely loves tasting all of his man, feeling him on his tongue, and jeeves loves the absolutely debaucherous, unfeudal feeling of shooting a load in berties mouth and watching him swallow (same is true of the reverse, the keyword there is full service)

All that to say is that in every way that jeeves is careful, calculated and precise in these matters, bertie is wild, needing, and determined

Id have to get into their kinks in a whole other post i think so feel free to ask for part 2

[slightly-gay-pogohammer]

Hi question: Is Fear and Hunger supposed to be this hard? I've played for almost 7 hours and feel like I've made like, no progress. Am I missing something? Q-Q You really seem to love the game so there's gotta be more to it than my experience of infinite leg breaking

dasfdsfn no yea funger. IS super hard. sometimes to the point of unfairness, since it heavily relies on RNG. consider that, despite making no progress in the story, you're learning more and more stuff about the mechanics of the game, where to go and which enemies to avoid. even now, sometimes i have "hopeless" runs, where i force myself to continue not because i feel like i can win, but because pushing a little more means i get to understand a little more how the game works.

buuuuuuut if i may give a little hints, going as spoiler-free as possible:

for an easy start, pick mercenary, be a burglar and rush into the dungeon. that's by far the easiest way to play the game

go left

avoid enemies at all costs as long as you're alone

the bed next to the statue is a one time free save.

every bed become free saves as long as theres no enemy left alive in that floor. if you fail the coin flip just leave the area and return in here

guard can stop every coin flip attack, and enemies always use a specific pattern. learn their rhythm

O LORD, GIVE, WHITE ANGEL*

experiment with the talk option, because sometimes it can save you from very difficult battles*

don't go directly for the head, it has too much evasion as long as the enemy's balance is stable

learn which part of the body does which attack

fire and poison on enemies is OP to the point to be broken

talk just once to the man in the library

know where to pray to which god*

boss souls can be taken by soul stones, and some are much more valuable than others*

protecting your arms is much more important than protecting your legs

infection is such a bitch of a status. get rid of it as fast as possible*

red vials can be used against enemies

dont use blue herbs unless you have no other choice. if you find the right books you can turn them into mix of red and blue or blue vials, which give you way more HP

if the crow enters the room, simply changing screen despawns him

let the girl throw rocks

the mines have a one time free full hunger area, the courtyard one where you can regain all health. all the other times you'll have to coin flip

:)

...and since some are very cryptic, under read more more explainations on the ones with the *. i go a lot more in details, but read it only if youre, like. very desperate

if you find an empty scroll and a feather, use the scroll and write O LORD in the first menu, GIVE in the second, WHITE ANGEL in the third, in all caps. it's a very powerful late-game accessory that allows you to have two turn

very important examples for talk options: in the mines, Moonless can become a party member if you talk to her and give her rotten meat twice; the hounds will get distracted if you talk and throw a stick; you can sell people to Trortur if you talk to him; the yellow mages may give you a good item; corpses won't attack you if you tell them PREPARE TO DIE

out of every God, Alll-mer can unlock very cool stuff. Pray to him in one of the circles on the ground, sacrifice the crucified man in the torture chamber (kill the priests around him, they give you access to the level up room) and pray to him at the big statue in the courtyard where you find Ragnvaldr and the Butterfly. If you have a Soul Stone "charged" with an enemy's soul, this should be enough to unlock Teleport in the hexen circles

by far the best bosses to Soul Stone(tm) are the Salmonsnake and the White Angel's. the Black Witch and the Old Guardian are quite good too, but if you have to pick two go for the former

infection is a status that insta-kills you after 7 screen change. Fix it as fast as possible either with green herbs or by cutting off the infected limb. Having no shield is much better than restarting the whole game

[loudlypanickinginvenezolano]

It was a cold, windy nigh. This old castle they had made into their temporary base exuded an almost overwhelming feeling of loneliness, and a phantasmagoric melancholy hung on them, even at this late time.

Shadow knew he wasn’t the only one awake.

It surely felt like he was. Then, there is a pleasant surprise visitor.

A long yawn threatened with having his already sore jaw broken, his whole body shuddering as a somewhat heavy feeling settled itself over his shoulders and pressed against his back, weighting him down ruthlessly to a point he was sure his knees would collapse under him.

He was tired.

Ohhh, so tired.

With a flicker of his wrist, coffee grounds were added to a pot with water, eye measuring the exact amount as of right now he really couldn’t be bothered with the idea of searching for a teaspoon.

Mhh. Did his body suddenly sway?

Fuck.

His hands went to his face, carelessly rubbing his eyes free of tears as another bone-shattering yawn attacked him, without bothering on being careful with getting stray fur on his eye, or even rubbing his eyelashes the wrong way.

Helplessly, he stared at the pot, silently willing it to finish quickly, were he to succumb due to weak knees in that very spot.

Being completely honest? By that point he was still in function purely because coffee, and well, the most bitter of spite his body was capable of producing. And that was saying something.

He groaned, resting his elbows on the counter and letting his body sag forward, the lulling promise of a sweet short nap trying to wrap itself around his mind, begging relentlessly for him to just give in and get that sleep his mind so desperately wanted!

But he couldn’t!

There was no way on hell he was lowering his guard right now, with so many badniks and bands running as they wished across the place, tormenting people to their hearts content and playing around as if this was a no-one land!  

If there was something Shadow couldn’t forgive, was how people was trafficking food and necessary medicines for almost thrice their actual price in this moment of need, playing with their own people lives with so little care, sucking them dry from everything they had gained or managed to keep during the war and the progress of rebuild.

And boy if it wasn’t a slow process of rebuild.

He knew, of course he knew, that you didn’t build a city in a few days, that you didn’t go over fallen buildings and pick it up completely in a few hours, or that you couldn’t bring back those who were lost and were needed back home even if you had 5 years’ time.

It was going to be a long, and rather hard time. For everyone involved.  

And…He was sorry, maybe he wasn’t right. Maybe Mobius was going to do the thing they were best at and would surprise him and make him eat his words!

…

But he doubted it.

He didn’t have that hope Amy and Sonic and everybody else seemed to preach to the rest. He didn’t have it on himself.

Ahead of them was a long ride. A bumpy one, no doubt.

Were things going to be better? Yes, indeed they will! But It wasn’t going to be a smooth progress. As a matter of fact, He was certain that they were going to be thrown back in their progress constantly, and that sometimes, that same progress was going to be blown to nothing by the very people they were trying to help, needing to start anew once, and once again.  

Even when G.U.N. and many others agencies tried their best to contain and counterattack the damage, their world has been dealt a heavy punch, and it was rattling even now, long months past the start and the end of it all.

Many were discouraged. Scared. Hopeless. A few were surprised, many were plainly disgusted.

And he understood. Hell. Maybe better than the rest.

Shadow knew by heart how much could people change in the span of a year, and how frightening was seeing those changes in persons you once knew.

If they could turn into emotionless machines in a theoretically save environment, what was he supposed to expect after an actual war where everyone thought the battle was lost? That everything was hopeless?

They were raiding the very Resistance equipment and lying on their forms to get merchandise they could then re-sell at out-righteous prices!

He understood if anyone else didn’t want to acknowledge it, but for him? It was pretty clear they had entered a war with anyone else that weren’t themselves.

Profiteering out of someone else´s pain.

Ha. Fuck them all.

Even as he got lost on his thoughts, right now, Military forces kept marching and spreading like a disease across…everywhere, trying to control the situation by their own, forceful if he can add, means.

It was like the marching rhythm on their step was simply trampling on Shadow´s heart every time he saw them pass, taking with their cold gazes whatever warm the citizens have managed to get back on this day.

Sometimes, it was like watching the dead move. Pained, downcast eyes stuck in an unwilling puppet.

Sometimes, not even them were all right.

…It hurt to see.

It was a sight that took away his will of live, and that seemed to have the same effect on the viewers close by.

It made them hopeless. Like the bright end was further and further everyday no matter how hard they kept fighting to revive their country.

Their planet, actually.

It was a silent war, all again, all over. 

Shadow had to fight with Eggman´s pawns, and then, he also had to fight the very people he was constantly trying to save, and that probably, were also trying to just get by… and in their blindness and greed just choose the worst option of them all…then he also had to fight with G.U.N. higher ups along with The Commander, and, wasn’t that a surprise? They actually seeing eye to eye?

Surprisingly, all it took was a goddamned war. 

And then, because things just couldn’t wait to get better, he had to wittingly deal with politics. Those damned things, and laws, and complicated wordings that made his head hurt.

Then fighting the corrupted forces that just kept popping up, as disgusting and quickly like cockroaches. 

Of course.

That’s what you did in your usual Wednesdays, isn’t that right?

And finally? Fighting with the very people he worked and lived with because suddenly everyone decided to be an ass?!

Fuck him sideways!

Chaos! Just fucking dealt him the final blow already you coward!!

“You should go to sleep” came a subtle whisper, an agile hand reaching up to turn off the stove. Sonic hip´s bumped into his own, a barely there, blink and you miss, look of pure concern flashing through his face. “And you should also stop with the coffee, dude. You are inhaling this thing as if it were water. Leave a bit for the rest, could ya?”

“I think I am old enough as to choose when and what do I do with what I do, Hedgehog. And I bought the coffee. Is mine.” Shadow mumbled without bothering in straightening his posture, picking up the pot with a lazy gesture and starting to filter it. The steam danced in front of his face for a while, the feeling and smell of the coffee awakening him a little bit.

He welcomed it pleasingly.

“Weren’t ya like, hm, chronologically 11 this year?”

“Those are…68 years for you, dipshit.”

“Ah. So you are going to change your age depending on what suits you the most?”

“What would be the advantage of it being unknown if I weren’t to?” a fleeting, small smirk crossed Shadow´s lips, and a little but powerfully genuine smile split Sonic´s face, making the dark hero snort and look away. He didn’t want to think about how short lived and scarce were these becoming ultimately. “I thought you were sleeping, Sonic.”

“Yeah. I also thought the same.” The blue hedgehog looked around, analyzing the little makeshift office Shadow had settled in these last days. Many things were… well.

It was chaotic and messy, and yet, he could tell there was some rhythm to it, certain…order in all the mess. It took him a while to realize it, but everything could be packed in the blink of an eye, ready to go at a second´s notice… Wasn’t that a bit paranoid?

In some way, it reminded him of Tails… And how this very tactic usually failed the fox.

He snorted, ignoring Shadow´s suspicious glance, as he took the place in with rapt focus, curiosity surging on his heart.

The other let him be, as he usually did, silently indulging him in the harmless, mundane things.

Without realizing, silence fell on them, but it wasn’t awkward, nor looming.

It… it was calm. A welcomed calm. It didn’t ring on his ears, and it didn’t felt forced, nor expecting.

This place was grounding, somehow. He couldn’t really tell why.

Maybe it was the light, or how the open windows let the noises of the night drift in or the smell of faraway carried in by the wind.

Hey! Maybe it was that lil candle in the corner!

Maybe how messy and known was this actually unfamiliar place. The soft clink as Shadow stirred his coffee lazily, with eyes half lidded and full with longing for sleep.

And a mind filled with nightmares that kept them both awake.

Maybe it was Shadow´s nature on itself. Secure, quiet and grounding until he decided not to be, and all got dyed in a characteristic scorching red. The almost lazy waves of his strong chaos energy signature rolling off to him, small, loopy red wisps being assimilated by Sonic´s own body unconsciously. As always, they felt warm, carrying now the smallest of hints of sleepiness.

Maybe it just was that this felt lived in, and there wasn’t any feeling of oppressing loneliness robbing him of his breath.

Why did it matter? He didn’t know, neither.

Suddenly Sonic wasn’t drowning anymore.

Wasn’t that okay?

“You, on the other hand, really need to go back to sleep. For real, you are going to scare everybody into holiness if you don’t get your night. What would be the fun, then, if I can’t put the fear of god on them myself?” Thanks heavens Shadow wasn’t looking, so he didn’t catch the slightly alarmed expression on Sonic´s face as he startled back into focus.

What nonsense was Shadow even talking about?

Ahh. Too much for a quiet nature…

He watched as the black hedgehog rummaged through some boxes stashed at the far corner of the room, finally coming back with, Sonic greedy eyes noticed, two package of Pocky´s on his hand. He settled on his right side, reclining in the table Sonic was sitting on top of, seemingly ignoring the salivating hedgehog. However, a Green tea Pocky soon found its way to peach hands, and the blue speedster lighted up immediately, much to Shadow´s honest amusement.

“I am serious, hedgehog. You need to back to sleep.”

“That is quite rich comin from ya, you know?”

“Surely. It doesn’t make my statement any less true.” Shadow straightened, walking towards his little ´´ working desk´´ with a slow step, sitting and sinking on the bigger than it should, chair.

You didn’t hear this from him, but…It almost looked like the thing could swallow him up.

Heh.

Sonic snickered at the mental images out of his brain-pit, and Shadow, acting as the mature individual between them, obviously, threw him a rock without looking up.

Sonic cackled loudly through the pain in his now sore nose.

´´Just where did that come from?!´´

Honestly, he didn’t need to seriously search on the other´s face to know he was fine, playful even, instead of truly angry or annoyed, unlike before, where he would need to stay alert and wary in all times; So, he was unfazed even in a situation like this one, even daring to laugh from his belly at the unexpected outcome.

He now could tell (CoffCoffBrag.) with confidence that he knew what to look for in these instances. Even if he slipped from time to time, because well, no one was perfect.   

It had taken them a long while to get to this point in their friendship, to understand each other even if slightly, a task not made easier with Shadow´s initial scarce use of words and the lack of communications skills on both parties, but it was okay, truly! Sonic liked it as it was, and he was sure Shadow thought the same.

It was comfortable. Theirs. It felt nice, even if Shadow would deny it to the end of the time.

The trust was still there. The bond, if you may.

It didn’t mean Sonic didn’t enjoy poking fun at the ebony every time he had the chance.

 “Aaaweeee. Why are you so rude, uh?”

“Do you want that pocky or not?”

“He-hey buddy! Calm down! We don’t play with that.” Sonic scrambled immediately, holding the package close to his chest and taking a step back, much to Shadow´s pleasure.

Welp. That backfired quickly.

It goes without saying, these kind of treats were actual treasures! They had been sold less and less, as many emprises went bankrupt or just couldn’t sell their merchandise or even produce, and if you managed to find them, their prices kept going up without ever stopping!

That or they had Eggman´s insignia and or designs on them.

How did Shadow found them, with their original package and no egg-related detail? It was unsure, honestly. But he was the guy to go to if you wanted something…if you could pay his price, that is.

A gift like this was not the be treated lightly! To suddenly loss it like this, are you kidding him?!

“Shut up, then. I don’t mind taking candy from children, you should know it already.”

“What children? Dude, I am older than you for a year! Or something!”   

“If thinking like that lets you sleep at night, be my guest. Pass me my Janik, if you could be so gentle.”

“Your what?”

“Janik. What I hit you with.”

“Ah. The rock… Kay.”  Sonic shrugged before jumping down the table, squinting slightly at the floor as he looked for, eh, Shadow´s rock.

Thinking about it, that… wasn’t something he thought he would end up doing like, ever. Even less today.

He really didn’t have a lot of expectations for the rest of the night after waking up from a hideous nightmare, but. Still.

You do see his point, right?

But oh well. His life could never spell normalcy, and in the big scheme of things, looking for a friend´s rock at whatever-in-the-late-late-night time while in an ancient castle of all places was… more probably to happen than fighting against Chaos themselves, to name something.

Just. Why did a rock have a name? why did Shadow carry it with himself?

Does he seriously need to squat down like this while looking for it?

And while he is at it…Just HOW could it get lost just like that?!  

He huffed, irritated with who knows what at this point, really, before starting to mumble annoyed incoherencies that had Shadow biting a smile. Sonic was…truly a curious being, ah.

The actual, whole Chapter is about 4000 words so I´ll just post half first?

As I said, I´d really appreciate some help...

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Misconceptions.

so you totally do not have to write this if you don't want to obviously!! but my idea is that eddie has this dislike for all the popular kids and maybe the reader who's a cheerleader tries to strike up a friendship with him (she's not really friends with the other cheerleaders besides chrissy) and would kinda tease her like about how she's comes from a good family and a nice house and just a stereotype of cheerleaders but all that goes out the window when eddie is running late for school and he sees the reader walking really quick out of her trailer to get to school and he's stunned but offers her a ride and in the ride they talk about it and when they pull up to the school she's like "yeah i live them with my mom" (bad parents) and then gets out really quick so to make up for it eddie gets flowers and leaves school early to wait at his trailer so when he sees her come home he walks over to her and apologizes and it ends up being like a little romantic moment ? if you decide to do this thank you!! and if you don't thank you for reading it anyway!!

Warnings; angst, fluff.

Likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated ❤ I do not give anyone permission to copy my work.

It took all of her courage to approach Eddie Munson, for weeks no maybe months now she has been crushing on him.

It was a hopeless crush though because she knew he hated the popular crowd with a passion.

She desperately wanted him to know she wasn't like the other people in the popular group, in fact, she wasn't friends with much of the cheer squad except Chrissy who knew of her crush on Eddie and was a sweetheart about it.

Anxiety fills her stomach as she approaches Eddie at his locker.

"Hi". Eddie turns to her and immediately looks apprehensive which makes her mood dampen.

"Hey".

"I was just wondering if you uh wanted to hang out sometime?" His eyes flash in shock, and then annoyance.

"Right this is some sort of prank isn't it? That asshole Carver put you up to this?". She gapes and shakes her head.

"What no!! I wanted to hang out with you. Why is that so hard to believe?". He scoffs.

"Why would you want to hang out with the freak of Hawkins. Beautiful girl, nuclear family, perfect life. Perfect in every way so why?".

His words make her pissed off and she feels tears prick in her eyes. His eyes widen at her tears.

"So what are you just assuming that I am bitchy and playing a joke? I don't even like Jason but fine". She storms away wiping her eyes. He didn't know anything about her and thought she was some stereotype.

Eddie didn't know that she lived just a little away from him in the trailer park because her dad left her mother.

Or that she works in the library to help her mom out and looks after the whole house because her mother works a full-time job, crazy hours and is too tired to do anything when she gets back home.

Eddie didn't know shit.

❤

Eddie replays the words that y/n said in his mind a fair few times. He couldn't even strum on his guitar without feeling pangs of guilt.

So as a result, he had an extremely sleepless night and woke up late for school and dressed quickly rushing out the door.

On his way, he is stunned as he sees y/n rush out of a trailer a little away from his uncles and calls out to her.

She freezes and turns to him avoiding his eyes as he jogs over to her.

"What are you doing here?". She doesn't answer and he gestures to his van.

"Look we're both late for school. You want a ride?". She nods.

"Yes please". They head over to his van and holds the door open for her, she murmurs thank you and is still very quiet.

As he begins to drive she begins to open up to him.

"I live here with my Mother, and my dad left us a few months ago so we had to move here because its the only place we could afford, she works two jobs, and I work in the library it helps but no one knows I live here except Chrissy and Robin who are the only one who ate understanding".

He softens and feels like an asshole he really shouldn't have assumed anything about her, that was a dick move.

"I'm sorry sweetheart. I shouldn't have assumed anything about you. That was me being an asshole and I own up to it, hey look if you ever want a change of scenery you can crash at mine, maybe we could watch a movie or something?".

This cheers her up.

"Apology accepted. The truth is I want to hang out with you Eddie. I'd love a movie night".

Butterflies or maybe more likely bats fill his stomach and he returns her shy smile knowing he doesn't want to fuck up the chance to be with someone so sweet.

❤

After School Eddie waits for y/n with some flowers, some are handpicked wildflowers the rest are a bunch he ran to the florist for on his break.

He was kinda out of his depth but the lady who ran it was extremely helpful and helped him pick the perfect bunch.

As y/n comes out of the biology department he waves to her and her smile makes his heart skip a beat. He hands her the flowers and she kisses his cheek.

"Thank you, Eddie. They are beautiful".

"I'm still sorry about yesterday Princess, I'll do anything to make it up to you". She moves closer to him and bats those pretty eyes at him.

"I told you I forgive you Eddie but there is something I would love if you wanted to". He raises his eyebrows intrigued.

"What?". She whispers in his ear and he feels like all his luck has come at once. A kiss. She wants a kiss.

Jesus Christ yes!

When their lips meet it feels so right, it feels like she is meant for him and him for her. The kiss ends with both of them grinning goofily at each other, her hand slips into his and Eddie knows this is fucking best day ever.

❤

[elysianslove]

haikyuu boys and tropes that suit them!

includes: kageyama tobio, iwaizumi hajime, oikawa tōru, sakusa kiyoomi, miya osamu, miya atsumu, suna rintarō

(possibly part 1??? consider this an apology for not posting as much ����)

kageyama tobio — practice kissing. 

kageyama is, as embarrassing as it is for him to admit this, inexperienced, greatly so. he’s in his third year of high school, 18, and is yet to have his first kiss. college is approaching him dauntingly quick, and he doesn’t think he can handle being as clueless as he is for any longer. so while you’re sat on his bed scrolling through his phone, he bluntly asks you if you’ve ever kissed someone. he seemed so confident, and the words were straightforward and lacked any sign of anxiety or uneasiness. but the moment they left his mouth, he’s red in the face and his hands are shaking. when you agree to help him practice, he’s scared, shy, flustered, and his heart is in his throat, but he lets you lead the, setting the pace yourself as you sit before him, his face in your hands, pulling him closer to you. it’s electrifying, to put it to the least. he’d heard a million horror stories from his upperclassmen about first kisses, but he finds himself unable to relate. everything about the kiss and you is perfect, and he asks for more practice, starts looking forward to theses ‘sessions.’ he starts growing more and more confident, until he’s the one flustering you, the one making you gasp and squirm and mewl, not the other way around. and maybe he’ll find it in him to confess. maybe. 

iwaizumi hajime — friends to lovers. 

in general, with iwaizumi, he has a hard time believing in that he’s meant for a relationship, in that he has his own person, and for many reasons. he tries to be rational about it, saying he has other priorities at the moment, that he won’t be able to give his all, that he’s not particularly ready or in the right headspace/situation to commit to a person and a relationship. but it’s also, deep down, because of this indescribable fear of not being enough, of his flaws being too much, of being too imperfect. he just chooses not to get a headache over it, honestly. that’s why friends to lovers is perfect for him. it’s this person who he’s known for a long time, someone he’s come to know so well, so deeply, and vice versa. they’ve seen the bad and good of each other, been through all the ups and downs, learnt all their quirks, their habits, their tendencies. this is someone who is already a priority, someone who is already a constant. of course, he still hurts his head thinking about how wrong it is to have feelings for his friend, and the shame and guilt eats at him from the inside out. but it’s just so— easy. to love them. it’s so, so easy, as easy as breathing. and iwaizumi spends such a large amount of time pining and yearning that the final straw, the snap, the breathless confession, is so satisfying. 

oikawa tōru — enemies to lovers. 

oikawa wants and needs someone that’ll both keep him on his toes, always pushing him to the very edge but not completely over. he needs someone that excites him, someone that he has to work to earn. the word enemies is blurry to him. all he sees is someone playing hard to get, and he takes it as a challenge. it’s not that he wants and needs everyone to be in love with him and how dare you not be swooning at the sight of me!! it’s more that this person intrigues him impossibly. this person challenges him, bites back, and bites back hard. and the transition from enemies to lovers is so smooth with him, because it’s unpredictable and unexpected. one moment you’re swearing at him across the hall, the next you’re tenderly massaging at his injured knee and reassuring him of his hard work and efforts. it’s beautiful, really. the snarky comments and the flirty comebacks and the glares returned with playful grins, and them the moment of realization that opens up a whole new door that this person isn’t so bad after all. the satisfaction of finally giving in, either so slowly, so carefully and timidly, or rushed, hurried and desperate. so good. 

sakusa kiyoomi — there was only one bed! 

sakusa does not share. it’s nothing personal (sometimes it is), but he just prefers to have his own private space, where he can be comfortable. but things happen! like a trip where you’re stuck in the same room! and there’s only one bed! and the person you’re stuck with is the same person you’re very confused in regards to your feelings about them! the trip is a couple of days, and so it starts with the offer to sleep on the couch. it’s very uncomfortable, but he does it anyways, because a) he’s a gentleman, and b) you both now each have your private, safe space. two days pass, and you both tiredly pass out on the bed next to one another. he wakes up before you in horror and falls onto the couch quickly, but he doesn’t fall asleep again. as if this were fate’s play, you find yourself unable to sleep, and neither can he, so you quietly scoot over, a silent invitation. reluctantly, he accepts. he doesn’t spend that night sleeping either, instead simply stares at you, his hand outreaching for you, but not quite touching. eventually comes a day when he wakes up with your face buried in his shoulder, and although his cheeks are as warm as ever, he doesn’t feel uncomfortable. he only feels grateful to be finally touching you. 

miya osamu — soft only for their lover. 

it’s not that osamu is rude to others, or hates everyone else, or anything along those lines. it’s more that he’s less likely to open up, be vulnerable, be softer, easier than compared to with his partner. with his lover, he smiles easier, expressions are readable, his eyes always a dead giveaway to what’s on his mind. he’s colder and less approachable to others, but it’s almost as if his resolve melts the moment he spots his lover. he could be yelling at someone, angrily, then turn to his partner and in the softest voice say, “just a moment, my love,” and go back to yelling as if it were completely normal. similarly, he will always take his lover’s side of the argument regardless of whether they’re right or wrong. and, he’ll be kissing his lover, but pause for a moment to deck his brother, then return to kissing his lover again even softer. it’s because his lover owns such a big part of his heart, and when osamu loves, he loves with every part of him. he’s been called out on it multiple times; the fact that he’s so much meaner and harsher and stubborn with everyone else, including his brother, but it’s always the opposite with you. you are his soft spot, really, and it tickles your tummy whenever you notice the little changes and shifts in his attitude and personality when it comes to you. 

miya atsumu — enemies to lovers. 

unlike with oikawa’s case, you and atsumu genuinely hate each other. you despise his attitude, his cockiness, his ideals, his approaches, his voice, his hair, everything, and likewise, he can’t stand you. he’d only ever been rude to you, and in response, you’d defended yourself by being equally as rude. this isn’t playing hard to get enemies, this is i hate your guts enemies. rarely does being in a room with him not result in some sort of argument. your mutual friends are all fed up, of the arguments, the fighting, the smack talk behind one another’s backs, the complaining, everything. it’s infuriating, and so they beg you to talk it out, to try and resolve whatever it was going on between you, but either he wouldn’t cooperate, or you wouldn’t. it seemed hopeless, until at some point in time, you get badly hurt, maybe mentally or physically, but atsumu finds himself worried unbelievably. it’s irrational to be, especially with your history with one another. but he’s worried, insanely so, and when he finds you, finds out you’re okay, or you will be, the relief that fills him is dizzying and so, scary. but maybe the both of you were just projecting onto each other, the fact that you so badly wanted each other but felt like you couldn’t do anything. 

suna rintarō — brother’s best friend. 

it’s a dash of forbidden love, a dash of friends to lovers. he’s your brother’s best friend, older than you, and it’s wrong, you know it is, but you can’t help it. on the days he’s invited over, you purposely make sure to stay at home, and you make excuses to pass by your brother’s room constantly, to talk to him. he knows you like him, knows you’re desperately chasing after him in your own subtle way, and for a while, suna lets you. he acts dumb, none the wiser, lets you have your little fun of sneaking snaps of him to send to your friends and when you purposely press your leg against his sitting next to him on the couch or when you offer your lollipop after you suck on it. he indulges you, slightly, subtly. and when he sees it suitable, finds it right, he starts to return the advances: he accidentally arrives a little earlier than planned to your home when he’s invited, and he passed by you in school more often, and he makes up excuses to text you all the time. eventually, the sexual tension is unbearable, suffocating, incredibly overwhelming, and when it snaps, nothing else matters. just the two of you. he’s experienced, good with his words and his hands and his mouth and he’s a dream. and all you do is fall deeper, and deeper, and deeper. 

[prettyboykatsuki]

»» — { ♡ } —— { ♡ } —— { ♡ } — ««

shoujo manga | k. bakugo 

➳ tags ;; fluff, angst/injury, very midly nsfw towards the end, kisses (?), pro-hero!bakugo 

➳ wc ;; 1.5k

➳ plot ;; how bakugo kisses you differently. 

➳ a/n ;; might do this for other characters? idk.. katsuki brainrot haunts me everyday of my life.. 

»» — { ♡ } —— { ♡ } —— { ♡ } — ««

Bakugou speaks more than one language. 

Japanese, English, Spanish, and a little bit of Arabic and French. He’s fluent in the first three and conversational in the last - but the words still feel slick on his tongue. He’s the type of person that knows things well, when he can. He can curl around the syllables easily with enough patience - practice and time. A language is tool - or a love letter or a hopeless romantic. 

It’s something we never tire of listening too. 

For Bakugo Katsuki, the language he speaks to you in is kisses. It’s the one he feels best at, rolls of the tongue and mouth easiest. He’s well-versed in the foreign tongue of affection. It used to be.. choppy to say the least. But these days, Bakugo can tell you anything with nothing more than a few pressed lips and tongue-tied exchanges. 

It starts with a morning kiss. For it to be perfect, the sun has to hang just barely beneath the clouds. It can be any color out, blue, or orange, or grey - the sky just has to have light in it. He wakes up with a grunt, always before you - vermillion eyes peering open at your unconscious state. The verbs in his sentence are his hands, large palms that smooth down your hair. He nudges his nose against your jaw before his lips pucker against your cheek - travel down to your mouth until your eyes flutter open. 

“Wake up, brat,” with another kiss, this time on the corners of your lips. He waits for a while, sometimes letting you sleep for another ten minutes before his heart decides he’s running on empty time. Then he kisses you again, along your jaw like he’s tracing the lines of your art-work. 

“Oh? G’morning, Kat,” 

And he presses his cheek against your shoulder, kisses the edge with another grunt. These kisses always mean good morning, I’m happy we woke up together. In his language of love they mean, I like being here with you. 

Some kisses come after work - especially on those days where he’s working and you’re not. Bakugo dreads leaving you alone during the day, has to force himself out of bed and into his work clothes. It’s easier to be gone but always so hard to leave. When he comes home from work, he finds you in the living room with your legs propped up on the ottoman. Your laptop is on your lap and your head rests 

You can feel his presence before you see him. A warm hand, calloused and a hot, wraps around your throat and pulls you back to look upwards at him. He looks down at you with something unreadable in his expression - his thumb running against the column of your throat. He can feel your pulse under his fingers when he looks down on you - bows his head to kiss like an act of respect. This kiss is slow but deep - like a large wave crashing against the sand. His gravelly voice leaves you with a hum before he pulls away. 

This kiss means he’s missed you much more than you know. That’s why he stares at you for so long right after - why his fingers linger against your neck. 

“Whaddya want for dinner, huh?, is the only words he’ll say in the whole exchange but he looks like he’s gonna kiss you again. He wants to kiss you so many more times but he knows you’ve forgotten to eat so he just asks you what you want. He’ll make it for you. 

Other times, he kisses you in public. They’re not the kinds of kisses you can predict, you have to admit to yourself. It’s thee Dynamight afterall, and he rarely takes you anywhere the paparazzi can see. But you have to do normal things together sometimes - like grocery shopping. Even so, he always keeps his mask on up under his eyes, his sunglasses and army green hat and baggy clothes all covering him up.

But you mention it to him off-hand while you’re looking at salad dressing that you miss looking at his face when you’re out. A wistful, cheeky smiling on your lips as you tell him that you don’t mind if the world knows who you’re with. He scoffs, like always, and tells you to pick the spicy one for him. 

When he takes you outside, the sun falls over your skin like a halo. He’s sure there’s someone trailing him and watching from afar - some obsessed photographer examining his every move. Yet you look like gold, look like magic in the middle of this parking lot - packing groceries into the trunk of your car. 

He pulls his mask down just below his face, and takes his glasses off and pulls you toward him when the last of it’s over. Your hip bumps the shopping cart clumsily as his hands finds themselves under your jacket. His mouth melts against yours - this kind of kiss is searing against your lips Your hands are gripping the front of his shirt at first, but then they lay flat against his chest. It’s the kind of kiss where you let it happen, let it overwhelm your senses till your stomach turns. 

You leave it in a dazed and return to see him smirk, grin cocked like a pistol. He kisses you again, much softer as confusion dances along your face. 

“What? I thought you missed my face?” 

This kind of kiss is a reminder that your his and he’s yours. Nothing in the whole world could come between that, not even some shitty gossip column. When you laugh against him breathlessly, his expression melts into the most tender smile. You miss it - too busy laughing, but it might be better that way.  

Then, there are kisses that are desperate. Not sinful but somber. When you’re rushing to a hospital in the middle of September with a prayer clamped desperately between your tongue and teeth. You don’t really feel like you know yourself anymore, hands clasped around the steering wheel like religion. Your feet are the weight of crucifixion on the gas and it seems like you cannot go fast enough. 

You rush and rush and rush until the air in your lungs feels like it’s stomping at your chest. You wind up in a sterile white room, and he’s there. He’s alive and you know you should be grateful for that. Yet there’s a gash on his cheek and eyebrow, a wound in his side that makes everything in your knees feel weak. You don’t walk towards him, but stumble to where he’s sitting. 

“I fuckin’ hate hospital food,” 

He pushes the peas around the tray and you’re crying - shaking like a leaf in the wind as you cling to him. He lifts his arm and let’s you in. You sniffle against his shoulder and cry like a baby. You weep for the love you haven’t lost. You hear the plastic clink on the plate as he lifts his hand, brushes any stray hairs from your face. He tugs on your ear and makes him look at you, and kisses you. 

This kind of kiss is placating for certain. A warm mouth, not a hot one. His lips are so gentle, touch effervescent. When you hiccup a sob in his mouth, he nudges his forehead against yours and mumbles something incomprehensible.

You can hear his kiss before he speaks it.  

“I’m fine, dumbass,” but there’s no bite, no malice - just a hand wrapped in yours “I’m gonna be fine,” 

There are also times where he kisses you hotly. It’s the kind of kiss you wouldn’t want your children to see. When he comes home from a long day of training but the energy is still burning in his head. He’s sweaty, skin glistening and glazed. His teeth seem so sharp when he enters the threshold of the door. You can feel him pressed against your spine, the thick print in his basketball shorts. When his hands come up underneath your t-shirt and dance along your stomach. These times - he kisses you twice. Salacious and unrelenting. 

Once just like that in the kitchen. It’s all too much tongue and teeth that way - but god it feels so right. Makes you squirm, makes you hold the counter top to keep steady. You tremble before he even touches you. 

The second time is right in the middle of the fire, when he’s inside. Slow, sensual and needy - his tongue finding it’s way in your mouth like you’re a fountain. 

Both kisses speak the same words, the same desperation. It’s always the same with him, the inevitable scorching that bruises your lips and turns them red and swollen. 

“I want you. I want you. Give it to me, Give all of yourself to me” 

His kisses so harshly you can’t breathe, like even the breath in your lungs has to be his or he won’t stay still. These kinds of kisses always happen when you two touch. He can’t help but keep you all to himself. 

After all, in this language that only you two can speak, who else would he tell his secrets to?

»» — { ♡ } —— { ♡ } —— { ♡ } — ««

[donaweasley]

Their Little Secret

Pairing: Loki x Fem!Reader

Plot: This can be read as a sequel to What If or even as a solo.

The reader and Loki have been best friends for long, but eventually realised that it was more than just friendship. As they secretly step into a new world, the entire team, unbeknownst to it all, makes it their mission to make the love birds realise and confess what they feel for each other.

Warnings: Fluff, slight angst in relationship, a happy ending! Oh! And late-night hazards and a long read. Sorry!

Read time: ~26 mins

“(Y/N), could you please take a look at this once?”

Loki waltzed in through (Y/N)’s door with a file in his hand. She was reading a book, when he knocked.

“It’s pretty late. I thought you said you’d go straight to bed. What are you doing with this poor old piece of rat-food now?”

“I did. But then I couldn’t sleep. So...I thought of doing something boring enough to lull me to sleep. But this old file actually turned out to be quite interesting,” he explained animatedly. “I just couldn’t understand one part. So, here I am!”

She eyed him suspiciously as he spread his arms to accentuate his royal presence.

“That, or you wanted to see me, and this file is a flimsy excuse,” she drawled.

“Come on, darling! I’m fond of you but not to the extent that I’ll have to make lame excuses to see you. Besides, why would I need to lie to you?”

After taking a moment to consider his words, she stepped beside him and asked him to show the file.

“It is here - this part,” he pointed at a chunk of printed information.

“This one is…” She pondered aloud. “That doesn’t make sense! Loki, w-where did you get this from? That doesn’t look like any mission report or anything. It looks like...an excerpt...from...a book?”

Before she could register, a kiss landed on her cheek. It was immediately followed by Loki excitedly wishing her, “Goodnight, darling,” and vanishing into a green glow.

She stood stunned for a while. Gradually, the tingling sensation where Loki’s lips had caressed her skin began to spread like wildfire through her face, and soon she was blushing and smiling like an idiot.

“Idiot!” She cursed him as she flopped back on the bed.

After a few seconds of fiddling with the bookmark, and staring at blurred lines on the page, she closed the book, and decided to call it a night. After what Loki just did, nothing else could compare to a happier ending to the day.

As she closed her eyes, sunny memories started flooding her mind.

It had all started hardly two months ago, when they were having their usual midnight snacks, casually talking the day’s stress away, talking nonsense - just the usual best buddy night.

But then something happened: a childish game of “what-ifs”.

It was fun, for the most part, until Loki had asked her about her intentions if she met the love of her life the next day. Already stained with painful memories of past relationships and with the hopelessness about her love life, she tried her best to evade the question. But Loki, being Loki, kept proding her until she gave him a genuine reason for her frustration.

And everything changed after that. Because in trying to save the other from falling down the emotional cliff, they had saved each other. They had found each other.

She laughed softly as she remembered the hesitancy in both their hearts as they had crossed the threshold of friendship.

That was the first time that she had kissed him. On the cheek. And that was even before she had fully realised that her feelings for him were no longer platonic.

That was the first time Loki had put an arm around her and pulled her close to him.

Another giggle escaped her as she remembered the moment when the soft morning light, and a stiff back had awakened her from her sleep.

Both were still sitting in almost the same position as they had been when they were chatting.

She had found herself cocooned in the arms of Loki, her legs tangled with his, both of them safe under the thin blanket that Loki had picked while preparing for their night. Her head rested on his chest, while his rested on the top of her head.

The last thing that she remembered from the previous night was them promising each other that no matter how things turned out, they’d always be beside one another. And then Loki had pulled her closer, and gently laid her head on his throbbing chest.

It was now peacefully moving up and down with his sleepy breaths. Before opening her eyes to reality, she stole a few moments to let this feeling sink in.

When she had closed her eyes the night before, there was an excitement so high in the air that Thor’s thunder would have been ashamed. It was the hammering of Loki’s heart that had eventually put her to sleep.

The morning brought a peaceful rhythm beneath her ears. It was beautiful, it was calm, it was...reassuring. She loved it more than the thrill of the past few hours.

But no matter how long she tried to soak herself in the feeling, the incidents of the night before still seemed somewhat unbelievable. How could something months long change overnight? Was it all a mirage then, cast by the treacherous night?

The darkness of the night sets the mind free to imagine anything, take any decision. But the clarity of the day brings logic to the forefront, which sometimes turns out to be good but sometimes not so good.

But...it had felt right. She took a deep breath to clear her mind. It still felt right. That was all the assurance that she needed for the moment.

As she turned in her bed, she remembered the raspy voice in which Loki had wished her a good morning.

The close proximity, the husky, sleep-laden voice, the sudden change in the air - everything made blood rush to her cheeks and ears. Loki had sleepily chuckled at her flushed state, though he was only slightly better than her in hiding his own flustered state.

Ever since, not a single day had passed when the two of them hadn’t thanked the stars.

She used to think that she loved Loki’s friendship more than anything. She was happy to be proven wrong when she experienced Loki’s courtship.

A different flower everyday, sometimes inside her room, laid carefully near her door, sometimes on her bedside table, and on some mornings, beside her pillow.

She was used to going out with her best friend Loki, but going out with her boyfriend Loki was an experience on a whole new level. Light brushes of the fingers, sometimes an arm around her shoulder, intertwining of fingers, occasional brushes of his lips on her temple, and not-very-occasional blushes that tinted both their skins.

Every day, before parting for the day, she was blessed with bear hugs from him - something that she had never expected him to be fond of.

It was the best time of her life! Almost every doubt that she had about this relationship not working out had evaporated long ago. It was - she dared to say - perfect!

Except for one small hiccup: they had to keep everything off the radar.

For one, they were still testing the waters. No matter how happy and confident they were with one another, their newfound relationship was still at its infancy, and they didn’t want to declare anything to the rest of the team right away.

Second, everybody in the compound had been teasing both (Y/N) and Loki about “getting a room” for a long time. They didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of knowing that they were finally correct. Well, figuratively.

Unfortunately, the team did not know that they had already confessed their feelings to each other. And so, they were desperate to make the love birds see the truth of their emotions. The Avengers, tough and stubborn as they were, never gave up. And Loki and (Y/N) simply decided to play along.

For instance, around a month and a half ago, Tony had thrown one of his usual parties at the compound, and had brought a line of apparent suitors for (Y/N) and a host of gorgeous ladies and lads to introduce to Loki.

Though the new couple was initially confused at the unbridled attention, they eventually understood what was going on: Tony Stark had decided to use the age-old recipe of jealousy to crack either one or both of them.

It was fun, they both admitted later, to dance to the tune, and give the host a frowning face when he realised that neither were biting the bait. Instead, both seemed to be enjoying themselves flirting or dancing with their respective “baits”.

What escaped the eagle eyes of the team were the furtive looks that both (Y/N) and Loki threw at each other from time to time. It wasn’t easy to masquerade those longing glances with playful teases that two friends might share. But they had to.

Late into the night, after the party was over, Loki teleported into (Y/N)’s room. The security cameras were still a threat to their little secret.

“Hello beautiful!” Loki purred when she didn’t turn all her attention towards him as she usually did, but kept herself apparently busy in making the bed.

“Is this my consolation prize for all your flirting this evening?” She tried to keep it casual but her displeasure seeped into her tone.

“Ooh, someone sounds jealous,” he drawled.

“Speak for yourself, God!”

Loki stepped towards her, and gently caught her hand, putting a pause to her actions.

“Look at me. Please?”

She smiled as she faced him, but he could easily catch the facade.

“I know what you're trying to do. You can’t fool me, (Y/N).”

“And what is it that I’m doing?” She tried to question with the same casualness but her voice kept betraying her.

“You are trying to make it look like it didn’t affect you - me being with all those lovely people. But in reality, you are hurt, even if it is a tiny bit.”

Her smile faltered. Of course, she couldn’t fool the God of Lies!

Closing her eyes, she shook her head, “I don’t know why you’re saying this Loki. I’m perfectly fine! Why would I-”

“You and I understand each other perfectly,” Loki gently cut her off. “Or did you forget that?”

He reminded her of the one line - of the one realisation - that had triggered the tiniest thoughts of them being possibly together, if at all.

Realizing that all doors were closed for her, she tried to turn away from him, only to be stopped by the trickster.

“If it makes you feel any good,” he resumed, “it did burn me a bit, too, to watch you dance and laugh with those clowns.”

At this, she burst into laughter. Loki was glad at the change of mood, and allowed a few happy creases around his eyes as well.

“Is that true,” she asked, “or are you simply trying to make me feel better?”

He shrugged, “What do you think?”

“I’d like to believe that it’s true,” she confessed shyly.

“It is.”

“Well then,” she said after suppressing a wild grin that tried to crack its way through, “I guess that makes us even.”

“Guess so.”

“I’m sorry, Loki,” she sighed, “I lied earlier because I didn’t want to put any kind of pressure on you or anything. I mean...jealousy? That’s the first stage of obsession. And...I don’t want you to think that...”

“Hey,” Loki held both her hands in his, “your feelings for me will never suffocate me. On the contrary, they help me breathe. You have given my life a new purpose. I thought I was happy being your best friend. But this...this is even better. Never think that you’re putting any kind of pressure on me. None of those men or women out there, or anywhere for that matter, can bring me what I feel with you, for you.”

Words seemed insufficient for what she wanted to say. So, she simply nodded, and wrapped her arms around his torso.

“Thank you,” she murmured into his chest.

He chuckled as he ran his hand on her head, “Being jealous actually makes you look cute.”

She unwrapped herself from him just enough to look at his face, “Says the man who just confessed being jealous himself!”

“I never said I don’t look cute,” he shrugged again.

Shaking her head and laughing, she pulled his face down, and placed a warm kiss on his cheek.

“Go now, before I punch that cute face of yours.”

“When you say ‘punch’,” Loki drawled, “do you mean…’kiss every inch of’...?”

Blushing furiously, she pushed him towards the door.

“Shut up, and just go!”

Loki laughed as he wished her a lovely night, and disappeared into his usual green glow.

---------------

But the Avengers were not the ones to give up.

Not many weeks later, Natasha planned an evening at one of her favourite nightclubs. While Steve, Vision and Bucky backed out of the plan, given their previous not-so-delightful interactions with the loudness and the crowd, Thor and Tony were adamant on dragging Loki with them.

“We thought you liked a little fun! Since when did you start wearing grandpa’s knickers?” Tony snorted.

“C’mon, brother, don’t embarrass me,” Thor’s voice boomed in Loki’s room. “(Y/N) has embarrassed me enough. She didn���t want to go either. Said she’d rather sleep than be tormented by the blasted noise.”

She said what? That means she’s going to stay back-

“Wait, what?” Tony turned towards Thor with a perplexed look, “She said that?”

He turned around to face Loki again, “Are you two planning something or have you both become boring?”

No, no, no! They’ll add up…

“I am not boring!” Loki declared. He decided to stay quiet on the other option that Stark had mentioned.

“Well, then join us,” Tony shrugged.

With a dramatic roll of his eyes, Loki agreed.

Needless to say, his eyes went wide when he saw (Y/N) dressed up and ready for the outing when he was expecting her in her pajamas. When she silently questioned him, he immediately realised that he had been tricked.

I have to be more careful.

The team’s plan soon became obvious when, after a few rounds of shots, everyone made a beeline to the dance floor, leaving behind a string of excuses, and Loki and (Y/N) at the bar. Even through the crowd, the duo’s trained eyes could catch glimpses of their teammates shadowing them.

“Do they really think getting drunk will make us confess?” She shouted over the sound of the music.

“I’m a God,” he shouted back. “Midgardian liquor doesn’t affect me anyway.”

“Well, it affects me,” she shrugged and drained another shot down her throat, “and I love it!”

Last one.

She had started feeling dizzy. Getting wasted could be saved for another moment when she wasn’t being spied on.

A few minutes passed in silence as neither was fond of shouting to communicate. (Y/N) bobbed her head to the music while Loki eyed the mass of bodies swaying and moving with the beats.

“Would you-” Loki began but stopped midway.

While her eyes questioned him, he silently slipped from the stool, and came to stand almost behind her.

His hot breath, dipped in a faint whiff of alcohol, hit the shell of her ear as he purred, “Would you like to dance with me?”

She was rendered immobile for a while. A small corner of her mind wondered if Loki knew what he was doing to her.

I bet he knows what he’s doing.

“I’d have loved to!” She drawled. “It’s a shame there isn’t room for a waltz here, and I wouldn’t want a God like you to hop like teeangers in the crowd.”

She felt his chest brush against her back.

“I was actually hoping that you’d be up for that dance,” he pointed at a section of the crowd where bodies were gliding against each other in the most provocative ways.

Her breath hitched again. She didn’t need to turn her head to know that Loki was smirking at his achievement.

But this time, she wouldn’t squeal, she wouldn’t push him away with a timid smile. Diffidence and boldness both tugged at polar ends of her heart until boldness won the war.

Not this time. Two can play the game, darling.

“So, what’s stopping you?” Her lips almost brushed his earlobe as she tilted her head to whisper in his ear.

Where did that come from?!

Loki wasn’t prepared for this.

It was usually him who threw mildly suggestive comments which she pushed away with a shy gesture. He never expected the tables to turn so quickly.

She did not even have enough shots to get drunk yet, he noticed.

“What happened, did the cat get your silver tongue?” She smirked.

“I-I...uh...”

While Loki continued to gape at her, an inkling of panic nudged her chest.

Did I take it too far? He obviously wasn’t ready for this, but…

It all must have been another prank for him, and I…

No!

With a cackle, she sliced the apparent tension in the air. “So, finally got you, ha? Mischief!” She winked.

Turning towards the bartender, she ordered another shot.

Loki’s brain was still trying to decipher her behaviour.

Did she really mean it…? It didn’t look like a joke though…

As she focused on her drink, he thought he saw a flicker of disappointment cross her face, but the incessant dance of light and shadows made her features almost unreadable.

“You should get back to your seat, y’know?” She told him with downcast eyes.

“What?”

“The team might notice and...they might know.”

Did her voice just...tremble?

Loki hated the place: the noise, the dim lights, the secrecy - he hated the way everything seemed to veil her from him.

“I think I’ll go find them.”

Downing another drink, she hopped off her seat, and disappeared in the crowd, leaving Loki to his thoughts.

Once they were back in the compound, Loki went straight to (Y/N)’s room. This time he did not sneak into her room using magic; he knocked on her door. This wasn’t the moment to play a game of cat and mouse. If the entire compound was prying on him, he would gladly allow them to. Well, maybe not gladly.

“Hey! Hi, Loki!”

Her smile was as bright as ever.

Was it all in my mind then?

“Are you alright?” He tried to sound calm but his anxiety turned out to be more stubborn than him.

“Yes, I am. What- Come inside first.”

She stepped aside, allowing him to stride into her room, and flump down on the bed.

“I’m sorry,” he began honestly, “I thought...I thought you were upset. At the club… I thought I saw you...sad? I’m not sure. I just had this feeling that you’re probably not okay, and-”

“Loki,” she held his shoulders and gently hushed him, “I’m fine.”

Her assurance enabled him to breathe normally again.

Caressing his face, she placed a light kiss on his forehead.

“Thank you, Loki! For everything. For caring so much about me.”

“(Y/N),” he held her hand, “are you hiding something? From me?”

He didn’t miss the way she gulped before replying.

“Why would you say that?”

“Look, I’m sorry if I cross the lines sometimes. I know I tease you but those are… I’m sorry if I’ve ever made you uncomfortable or have hurt you.”

“You are an idiot! Do you know that? You’ve never hurt me or made me uncomfortable. Now, get these stupid thoughts out of your little brain, and give me that devilishly charming smile of yours.”

Despite all her compliments, his eyes did not light up as they usually did.

“Are you sure?” He asked her.

“Absolutely!”

“You’ll tell me if you’re upset, won’t you? Promise me.”

He took note of how she licked her lips before nodding.

Something is not right.

“Come here,” he pulled her in his arms, and buried his face in the crook of her neck. “And I’m not an idiot. I am smart.”

---------------

The next few weeks turned out to be more and more challenging as the team was now hell-bent on getting them exposed. What made them so sure of their relationship was still a mystery to the couple.

“Are we that obvious?” (Y/N) asked Loki one day.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “It is said that it shows on the faces of those in love. So, I guess...”

The words, coming from him, filled her with warmth. If that be true, and if everyone could see that they were in love only by looking at them, then she’d happily trade their secrecy for more obviousness.

But every time they came close to taking the relationship to the next level, she would find Loki backing away. Every time they had the opportunity to reveal their beautiful secret to the team, he would quickly shield both of them.

Why, Loki? Do you not want us?

---------------

It was a rainy evening when Tony had gathered everyone in the living room. At first (Y/N) thought that it was an urgent meeting for a new mission. But when she knew the actual reason behind it, she couldn’t prevent the snort that escaped her.

“Excuse me?” Tony pointed at her. “You got some problem, princess?”

“Truth or dare? Like, how old are we? Twelve?”

Tony spread his arms as if to silently make a point. “Since when did you start categorizing fun into ages? Ever since you started dating Rock of Ages?”

“Hey!” Loki made a tiny protest at his nickname.

“We are not dating,” (Y/N) deadpanned.

“And there goes my question,” Wanda sighed from across the room.

In response, (Y/N) simply rolled her eyes, and grumbled, “Kids!”

Once the game started, the team wasted no time in getting to the point: (Y/N) and Loki.

The first one to get attacked was Loki.

“No, no truth for you,” Sam chimed in just as Loki sucked in a breath to choose “truth”.

“He’s the God of Lies!” Sam announced, “He can easily slip away with any lie!”

“The bird’s got a point!” Tony agreed, followed by everyone else. “‘Dare’ for you!”

“This is not how it works,” Loki protested.

“Did you play this on Asgard? Thor?”

“No, we had never even heard of it until we came here,” the big brother responded.

“But-”

“Nah-ah!” Tony didn’t let him finish. “This is exactly how it is played. Who wants to give the God of Mischief a mischievous dare?”

(Y/N) wanted to protest; she wanted to tell Tony that he was bending the rules to get to them. But any word of support would further corner them both. All she could do was play along.

“Kiss (Y/N). And you know where I mean.”

Nat’s voice yanked her out of her thoughts. She watched in horror as Loki’s expressions changed from shock to anger while the entire team cheered.

“Nat!” (Y/N) jumped up from her seat, “do you even hear yourself? He’s my best friend! We can’t just...”

“Why not?” Sam questioned with a smirk. “You seemed to be enjoying it when I was asked to kiss Buck. He’s my best buddy.”

“Speak for yourself,” Bucky mumbled.

“C’mon, it’s just a game! Don’t be a spoilsport.”

Steve?? Et tu?

Rubbing her eyes, (Y/N) tried to find a way out of it. She knew well that if Loki kissed her, she’d melt into it. Everything would become obvious.

No, no, no!! This can’t be. They can’t just expose us like this. Loki would be so....

Wait, why isn’t he saying anything?

She opened her eyes to see Loki standing. His expression was unfathomable.

Oh no! Is he going to…

“This is outrageous!” Loki snapped and turned on his heels to walk out of the room.

Oh!

For reasons she did not want to explore then, (Y/N)’s heart dropped several feet. She was expecting a similar reaction from him but wasn’t hoping for it.

Quickly gravitating back to the situation in hand, she stammered an excuse or two for his behaviour, and followed his tracks to check on him.

Once both of them were out of earshot, Tony leaned towards the group, “Did we save it or kill it.”

“Looks like we killed it,” Sam sighed.

“Trust me,” Wanda smiled, “we saved it.”

“Vision? What do you think?”

“I still do not understand why you have to torment them like this. Let them come out when they want to. It’s-”

“Okay!” Tony interrupted him. “Sorry I asked! My bad!”

The door to Loki’s room was half open when (Y/N) arrived. Gingerly, she admitted herself inside.

Loki was standing at the window, with his back towards her. His head was bowed but his hands were curled into fists on both sides of his body.

“Loki?”

The name came out so softly that she couldn’t be sure if he had heard it, given that he did not move at all.

But before she could call him again, he spoke.

“I did not want this to happen,” his voice bore that particular kind of seriousness that usually preceded an unwanted or unhappy revelation.

What?

“I am sorry, (Y/N).” He turned towards her, and she realised in an instant that he wasn’t fooling around.

“What are you talking about, Loki? What did you not want to happen?”

Her chest felt tighter with every passing second.

Please, not what I’m fearing.

“This,” his hand vaguely gestured towards the hallway. “Whatever happened just now. I knew they would come down to this one day. I never wanted-”

“It’s okay,” she interjected. “I did not like that either. Although they meant no harm. It was just for fun… And I understand if you're having second thoughts. This entire thing between us was just something… y’know, a spur of the moment kind of thing. I totally understand if-"

"(Y/N)! Where is this coming from? What are you even talking about?"

She couldn’t make herself look at him, for if she did, he could clearly see the moisture pooling in her eyes. She needed to appear strong.

“Loki, you’ve always been my best friend. And I’ve loved that. You know it. And it’s okay if this new turn in our relationship does not turn out to be something that you had hoped for. It happens. It’s okay-”

“It’s not okay for me,” Loki grasped her hands. “What are you saying? Why? A-are you not happy with me? Have I done something wrong? Did I offend you in any way?”

What is he saying? I thought…

As she looked up at him, a couple of drops ran down her cheeks and on her shirt.

“(Y/N), please tell me. You had promised to tell me anything and everything that upsets you. So, tell me what happened. Why do you speak of our relationship as if it was a mistake?”

“It never was a mistake for me,” she breathed, “I thought you felt...I thought you...”

“What?”

The shaky way in which the question came out of him stung her more than any thought of Loki not wanting this relationship. It was then that she realised how badly she had hurt him.

He never wanted to leave! He always wanted me? Us?

She didn’t know what to say.

“I’m sorry,” she finally managed. “I thought that you...didn’t want...this. Us. I-”

“Why would you even think so? Why would you bear such thoughts when I love you with every fiber of my being?”

Her head snapped up.

“You love me?” Her own voice became shaky.

“Of course, I do,” he gently placed a hand on her cheek, “always have. At first I thought it was a love for friends until that night, when I realised that I wanted to be more than just friends with you.”

More tears fell down her cheek as she rejoiced in the moment. Loki wiped them all, and placed soft kisses on each cheek.

“And all this time, I was afraid that you’re having second thoughts,” she confessed.

“And why is that?”

“Because...”

How do I say that it’s because you haven’t kissed me yet? And ran away from the one moment we had today, albeit in a not-so-comfortable situation?

“Because I haven’t kissed you yet?” Loki asked her.

Her heart beat so violently, she could have sworn that Loki could hear it. Her tongue felt too heavy to speak.

“I didn’t think you were ready,” he admitted. “That is the reason why I did not dance with you in the club either. I was teasing you, yes, but when you responded I was definitely taken aback. I wasn’t sure if it was you or the ambience talking. So…

You have always shied away from any comments that I make, and...I did not want to push anything on you.”

“Oh, Loki!”

She hugged him so hard that even the Asgardian had to take two steps back to balance himself.

“I’m so, so sorry,” she wept into his shirt. “I misunderstood your actions for… I pushed you away. I thought you weren’t ready for this relationship. I’m sorry!”

Tears of both apology and relief flooded her. He tried to sush her as he rocked her slowly from side to side.

After taking a moment to compose herself, she stood straight. Loki looked at her red-eyed, tear-stained face and tutted.

“Doesn’t suit you, darling. Show me your crazy, grinning face.”

With a chuckle, she gave him a funny face-splitting smile, making both of them laugh.

“(Y/N), I didn’t want to kiss you because of a game or under the watchful eyes of that insufferable bunch of imbeciles. But if you will allow me now, I-”

“Just stop being so polite for a change, and kiss me,” she tugged at the collars of his shirt.

Loki didn’t need to be asked twice.

---------------

In the hall, the Avengers were busy speculating the outcome of their little plan, when the couple in discussion walked in. Hand in hand.

“Yes, we had changed our relationship status around six months ago,” (Y/N) announced to a stunned audience.

“And yes, we kissed. Just now. And I hope you know where I mean,” Loki added before dragging his love away towards the elevator.

“What was that?” She whispered as she was being whisked away.

“What?” Loki asked innocently, although his eyes stated otherwise.

“You didn’t need to declare that we just kissed!” She laughed as the doors of the elevator closed.

He shrugged while jabbing at a button. “They wanted us to kiss anyway. So, I gave them the satisfaction of knowledge. Besides, they need to know who you belong to now.”

“Aha! Possessive?”

“No! I also made it clear who I belong to now.”

He smiled as the doors opened to the hallway that led to his room. And once again, his words had rendered her speechless.

Silver tongue!

***

-----------------------------------------------

You can read the backstory here.

And here's a song to sing along and keep the mood floating...

[loveaffaire]

Seasons

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings/tags: a bit of angst, fluff, cheating (not by Peter/reader), Pete being a hopeless romantic as always

Word Count: 1.3k, I swear these blurb requests are turning into full one shots because I love Peter being completely whipped by the reader :(

A/N: @spiderholland101 I’ll be honest, I’ve never heard any of those songs so I picked a bunch of lyrics and built a story around it, just 1.3k words of Peter being desperately in love with the reader! Enjoy <3

🤍JOIN MY SLEEPOVER🤍

Summer - Heaven help a fool who falls in love

Peter tried not to stare at you but it was hard when you were sitting two seats away from him in chemistry class. Your skin looked as soft as cotton, lips plump and covered in strawberry chapstick, hair softly shining in the sunlight coming through the window.

His heart would beat a little faster every time you’d laugh, his breath would hitch each time you’d run to him in a crowded room, a smile would find its way on his lips the second his phone would light up with a text message from you.

It’s gonna get messy so don’t fall in love with your best friend, you fool, he’d tell himself.

❥ ‑‑‑‑

Autumn - You've been on my mind girl like a drug

Peter stood still in the middle of the school entrance as he watched you kiss Harry, his hands in your hands, a smile on your lips. It was like getting shot in the head and no, he wasn’t exaggerating, that is exactly how it felt to see your best friend that you are in love with be in love with someone else.

He pulled himself out of his daydream of repeatedly punching Harry in the face and rushed towards you. You pulled away from your boyfriend as soon as you heard footsteps approaching you, a smile settled on your lips when you saw Peter.

“Ready to go?” Peter asked, completely ignoring Harry and you nodded. To his dismay, Harry didn’t let go of your hand without giving you a very steamy kiss right in front of him.

You made small talk on the way to his house and Peter tried to focus on anything other than the kiss you and Harry shared just a few minutes ago. And when you sat on his bed, eyebrows frowned in concentration over chemistry, Peter’s eyebrows were frowned for a whole other reason. Thoughts of you getting too busy in your love life and forgetting him creeped up on his mind and you noticed.

“What’s wrong, Pete?”

“Uh… can’t understand this question”

“You weren’t even looking at the question, you were looking at me” your voice low as you scanned his face, “did I do something?”

Peter’s eyes widened, “no, y-you didn’t do anything, nothing”

“Okay so what is it?”

Peter sighed, biting on his lip because he was nervous and too afraid to say something wrong but he decided to be honest, “just scared you’ll get too busy with Harry and stop hanging out with me, it’s just a thought”

You were taken by surprise by this but soon, the sound of your soft laughter filled the room, “forget about you? We’ve been friends since forever, no boy is ever going to come between us Peter”

Peter’s eyes glimmered at your words, his cheeks turning rosy as he processed your words.

“Anyway, I’m too scared that you’ll forget about me because I saw you hanging out with all those smart science kids earlier today” you teased, your forefinger wiggling in his face as he shook his head, smiling.

How can I forget about you when you’ve been on my mind like a drug, he thought to himself.

❥ ‑‑‑‑

Winter - I wonder what it's like to be loved by you

The cold came and the days turned ugly, one text message to Peter and he was running to your house in the middle of the night.

You saw Peter through your window and opened the door, running into his arms. The impact was so hard that he almost fell back as your hands clutched on his jacket.

“He cheated on me” you cried, voice strained from the previous screaming match with Harry over call.

Peter held you close, walking back inside your house and closing the door behind. As soon as he let go of you, you fell down to your knees and he got down right in front of you as he wiped your tears with his sleeves.

“He doesn’t deserve you, Y/N” he said sincerely. His hands holding the back of your head to make you look at him and he almost kissed you that night. But he didn’t because what if you push him away, one heartbreak was enough for tonight anyway.

As he watched you weep on his shoulder for a boy who clearly didn’t deserve you, he wondered how it felt to be loved by you and if he’ll ever get to be loved by you at all.

❥ ‑‑‑‑

Spring - Wouldn't it be nice to live inside a world that isn't black and white

The colours were a bit brighter than before, the leaves and the flowers blooming again in the soft spring wind. Just like them, you were blooming too. You were the old Y/N again, the same old Y/N who was there before Harry came along and ruined it.

The glow in your eyes was visible, your smile felt more real now and you felt more comfortable in your skin than you did 2 months ago. Peter even helped you pack a box of all the things that your ex-boyfriend left at your place and you later sold those things at a thrift store.

Peter started seeing more of you, he would either be at your place after school or you’d be at his and sometimes, you’d go to the ice cream place near his place on a hot day.

As he watched you munch on your ice cream cone, the vanilla on your lip looked a bit more appetising then it did when it was on the cone and he almost leaned in to have a taste.

“Is there something on my face”

“No”

“Why are you staring then?” you smiled and raised your eyebrows at him.

“Oh, shut up” he rolled his eyes, “come on, let me walk you home before it gets dark”

With you walking by his side and the way your knuckles gently brushed against his made him realise how much brighter his world looked now. How wonderful it was to live in a world which wasn’t black and white anymore and it was all because of you.

❥ ‑‑‑‑

Summer - Honey I love you

The sun was setting, both of you returning from the summer fair and he finally gained the courage to hold your hand on the way back home. The hot weather was making your palm sweaty but Peter couldn’t care less. You were literally here, holding his hand in yours and he didn’t want to let go.

“Peter”

“Yes?”

“Will you say it?”

Peter frowned in confusion, “say what?”

“You know what” you bit your lips, a bit of sadness in your eyes.

“I- I don’t know what you’re talking about” Peter stuttered.

Peter was clueless. For a straight A grade student, he was pretty dumb when it came to love and you.

“So you will just never tell me that you are in love with me?”

Peter halted in his step and that halted you in yours. His hand slightly loosened its hold on yours in horror but you were quick to tighten your hold on his hand, even tugging him closer to yourself so you both were face to face.

“You know?” He finally spoke up, voice in a whisper and mouth agape in shock.

“It’s hard to miss when you’re right there staring at me with your big brown doe eyes” you softly giggled, feeling a bit shy now, “and how you get flustered when I compliment you, how you always have my back and how you always pick me up, it’s obvious that it’s more than just… friendship”

Yes, you knew. You have been waiting for him to say something, anything at all to show you that he loved you but as time passed and still no word from Peter, you finally took matters in your own hands.

Peter was speechless and you have had enough, you sighed and let go of his hand. Peter almost collapsed when you placed your hands on either side of his face and pulled him in.

You filled the gap between you both as you pressed a soft peck to his lips and his eyes fluttered like butterfly wings, savouring in the feeling of the airy kiss. Your lips felt like a light feather, barely there but just enough to make him feel lightheaded for a second.

You pulled away quickly but then pressed your forehead to his and closed your eyes tightly, “honey, I love you”

You said it like a promise, your chest felt a little lighter when the words were finally out and Peter’s heart started racing in his chest again. When he finally processed what had happened, he didn’t waste another moment as he pulled you back in for a kiss.

“I love you” he whispered, words muffled with his lips never leaving yours, “I love you, Y/N”

He repeated the words multiple times, telling you ‘I love you’ for every single time he couldn’t in the past and your eyes watered at the intensity of emotions soaring in your chest.

As he stood there kissing you, his mind went back to last winter and how he wondered how it would feel to be loved by you but now he didn’t have to wonder anymore. He knew how it felt to be loved by you and it felt like heaven.

Anyway, hopeless romantic Peter, my beloved🥰

[nonpracticinghumanbeing]

(Hey, guess which terrible little ball of anger I'm writing about yet again. Also, this is basically therapy for me. So tw for mental health issues, past trauma and a lot of self-loathing I guess? Lol.)

I write A LOT about Izzy. Both here and on Facebook. And I have very strong opinions about him, which causes really violent reactions from some people (including being called an abuse apologist for merely pointing out that he believed he was doing the right thing when he made a deal with Badminton and one person actually comparing him to a certain genocidal Austrian painter). I really DO understand why people hate him, he's a terrible abusive man and for many viewers his behaviour may be triggering. That's absolutely valid.

But. The more I think about it the more I understand why he's so important to me. And not just because we're both sad little masochistic boys, even though I don't think I'll ever get over getting proper representation when it comes to kink being an integral part of my identity. I also see something of myself in how terribly broken he is. As someone whose parents' treatment made them struggle with anxiety their whole adult life, I really sympathise with him even though I do realise he's a truly awful man.

You see, when you've been conditioned to believe there's something inherently wrong with you, it really changes you. You learn to hide who you really are and you create a person you present to the outside world that you only claim is you. You wear that as an armour meant to protect you from the world. You believe no one would ever accept the real you, so you spend all your energy on pretending to be what you think is acceptable. You learn not to talk about how you feel, because you can't risk exposing yourself. You take everything that hurts, lock it in a box, put that box under your bed, and throw away the key.

When every single day is a struggle, you become hyperfocused on staying alive in a hostile world. You have neither time nor energy for anything else when you're fighting for survival. Things like love or happiness are for other people, you can't pay them any mind 'cause if you slip up it may actually kill you.

So you find whatever it is that lets you get by and you cling to it for dear life, because your life may literally depend on it. (I have my routines that keep me stable, he has his lager-than-life legend of a captain who makes him feel safe.) And you become pathologically protective of it. If anyone threatens your source of stability, you put everything you have into making them go away, because however unhealthy your way of life is, you can't even imagine an alternative.

Years pass and nothing changes in your life, because you can't afford to let it change. You see people around you thrive and live their best lives and you just don't know how to do that. So you become angry, and you become frustrated, and you become violent. And sometimes you are violent towards those around you and sometimes you are violent towards yourself. And you come to hate your life, but at the same time you're too scared to do anything about it.

And then - if you take a second to stop and think, something I've been lucky enough to finally manage and that Izzy desperately needs - one day you realise just how hopeless it really is. That surviving is not living. That the armour you've been wearing all those years has long since become your skin and you don't know how to be yourself. And that if you want to start making things better you need to pull that old box from under the bed and deal with what's inside. And that is TERRIFYING, and it hurts like hell, which is why many people choose not to do it their entire lives.

So. What I wanna say is that I think I understand what he's going through. Yes, he's an abuser and a homophobe, and a racist. But I don't think he's inherently evil. As @internerdionality once wrote, both him and Ed are abusive because they are afraid and not because they take pleasure in hurting people. That doesn't make it alright by any means, but it makes me want to see Izzy get a redemption arc. Con saying that Izzy wants to be better but doesn't know how was like getting fucking stabbed for me, because that literally was me for years and years before I managed to get myself even a little bit together. That along with Daddy Jenkins' way of smashing cliches makes me want to believe he can get a happy ending. Because yes, I take this personally.

[labeeboheme]

my spencer reid headcanons

(when a happy one matches a sad one, they’ll be matching colours)

also tw - vague mention of suicide, drug addiction, disordered eating mention (never anything graphic)

happy/cute

- Garcia and the rest of the team would leave little sticky notes around his desk and normally they’d just make him smile but when he was having a rough day they’d literally make him tear up with happiness

- he’s obscenely good at present giving, because he simultaneously remembers everything that people say they like and also has his ridiculous knowledge of what exists out there

- one week (it coincided with him being clean for 5 years, he never made the connection) he walked into the briefing room and every member of the team was dressed exactly as him. he kept trying to bring it up and everybody pretended they had no idea what he was on about. it became their BAU group chat icon for years.

- one of the best days of his life was when garcia took him dog walking with her, he got to just wander around with 6 dogs all day

- jack grows to adore him just as much as henry does. spencer hangs around a lot because him and hotch are usually the ones without anyone to hang out with at the weekend, and he takes jack to the museum with henry and michael all the time. jack ends up being a lot more like spencer than he imagined (which both terrifies and delights hotch)

- Spencer has never actually attended a graduation, despite having graduated from various degrees like 10+ times. when the BAU (Alex probably) finds out, they all force him into a gown and rock up to cheer him

- they liked to play trivia games where it was spencer vs the rest of the team, but someone (i’m thinking emily) picks up that it makes him feel left out. they then take turns being on spencer’s team. one month, the non-spencer team beats them and the joy it gives them makes him smile for a week

- garcia learns how to make mocktails and without fail, will make a huge jug for him anytime the rest are drinking alcohol but make sure they’re fun flavours so he gets just as much excitement as everyone else

- after Diana is moved to Virginia, the team become really close to her. JJ takes the boys to hang out with her because she’s always loved children (and Diana sometimes thinks Henry is a young Spencer, which makes JJ worry about how Spencer will react but he’s just sitting here grinning with tears in his eyes because he’s finally getting to see his mom be the mom he knew she could be)

- the BAU love his glasses, and there’s a competition to get a photo of him with them on, but he’s very good at avoiding cameras. After one case in a hotel they even try to hide his contact solution to force him to wear them (amateurs - he definitely keeps a spare box in his coat). There eventually is a single photo of them wearing them, but all members of the BAU fail. Spencer is babysitting Henry, who is distraught about having to wear glasses to school. Spencer gives up trying to comfort him and just takes his contact lenses out and switches them for glasses. Henry is super shocked but so happy that he matches his favourite person, so Spencer takes a photo of the two of them so that Henry can put it next to his bed

- he gets a cat after prison, it’s a tabby cat that is the light of his life, and the cat is just heavy enough that when Spencer gets it to sit on his lap that cat can be used a grounding pressure

—————————————————

angsty/sad

- developed disordered eating habits that started from him always being super underweight as a child bc he couldn’t afford food and then when he got to college he started to eat properly and put on actually healthy weight but he was so adverse to change that it freaked him out

- one of the roughest days at the BAU, after all the obvious terrible times, was when Morgan and Hotch was just having a casual conversation about how they’d helped Strauss with her addiction and it just broke him. he ended up hiding under Garcia’s desk and he’d only speak to her and Emily (as the only people I think ever actually helped him) and was non verbal, once they finally got him out into the office he refused to speak to either of them and was just stimming with garcia comforting him (once he started talking again he whispered why he was so upset to emily, and she joined him in his glaring at them every time he looked at them. morgan and hotch never really worked it out and eventually reid just gave up on being upset because he knew it couldn’t change what happened)

- spencer has never walked across the stage at graduation, but that doesn’t mean he never went to a graduation. his first degree his mom promised she’d come, but ended up not leaving the house. he stood to the side of the stage in his gown trying not to cry before just going back home and having the diploma mailed to him

- he relapsed in prison. he considered his sobriety over after the events in Mexico, and so just briefly gave up when one of the inmates offered him some. as soon as Garcia came to visit him, he broke down and never did it again. he never told Morgan and so he still got a text every year on the day he first got clean, which he thought he’d absolutely hate but ended up finding comfort in because even if the “happy 12 years sobriety, kid” should have been “happy 2 years sobriety, kid”, it reminded him that he’d done it before and could do it again

- after maeve died and they came round to help him clean his apartment, he was really proud of himself for being able to put her book on the shelf and feel like he’s moving on. and then the next day he was getting ready to go to work properly for the first time and he was just getting more and more terrified and anxious and then started to spiral because the longer he panicked the later he was. and it reminded him of how scared maeve had been to come outside to meet him at the restaurant but she’d done it anyway, and he put the book in his bag and found it a lot easier to leave the house after that

- Spencer is so goddamn bitter about them not helping him get clean, and he mentions it whenever he can. In a angry-but-never-let-himself-be-angry way, he takes some justification in seeing the team squirm with guilt. one day he’s listing symptoms of withdrawal for a case, and just starts to go like “another symptom is intense muscle pain, which for me was definitely the worst” or “yeah nausea is real bad, not that you’d know I guess” like he’s exhausted and pissed off and just gives up any pretence of subtlety

- when Diana dies, the whole team rally around Reid more than he could imagine. They all organise the funeral basically for him, and Garcia constantly cooks for him, and at least one person sleeps on his sofa each night in case he needs them. By week two he’s doing okay, and he quickly realises they’re doing it for themselves more than him, because they’re so desperate to let him know how loved he is. It’s still one of the worst weeks of his life, but it’s bearable and that’s purely down to him never having to feel lonely

- there’s a reason he knew exactly what to do when he walked in on Nathan Harris, and that’s because he’s done it with his mom, except that time he was 12 and his dad had just left and he just sat there covered in blood waiting for the ambulance, and whilst promising the paramedics that his dad was on his way home so that social services wouldn’t turn up, he read countless books on medical treatment so that next time he wouldn’t be so hopeless

- I respectfully disagree with the line where he’s like “this is my first meeting” at the Beltway clean cops, I’m convinced he would drive two hours to a meeting miles away so he could truly be anonymous and sit curled up in a chair and cry in meetings without even the slightest chance of seeing someone he knew

[stickynotestoletters]

ugggh so I am a dirty little slut for sal fisher and I had a thought about it sooooo,,,,

Sal Fisher x GN (masc body) headcanons of what he's like with you

this is gonna be very heavily influenced by the fact I am sleepy and really wanna write this rn!

Warnings: Non-canon-compliant (Sal lives, Larry lives, Todd doesn't go crazy, no murder), some NSFW stuff, switch-bottom leaning Sal, Service Top Sal

Highschool

When he first meets you he's, hands down, the most flustered he's ever been before

Like, he's really into you

He just sees you in the hall and immediately blushes

he goes around his days as usual and stuff still but now he's eyeing you whenever you come into view

it's cute, he looks like a little kitten peering at you from around the corner because he’s too shy to say something

Larry makes little jokes about it and always tells him to talk to you

"wow, what a stalker" is his usual line when he finds Sal looking at you from somewhere

he musters up the courage to talk to you in his junior year when you wear a Sanity's Fall's shirt to class one day

from then on you two talk together whenever you have class and stuff

your parents move into the apartments in your senior year because of a demotion and you and Sal start hanging out outside of school

He finally asks you out on the last day of senior year

You and the gang go out to the football field the night after graduation

after they clean up all of the equipment for the stage

You guys end up smoking a blunt because Larry brought some of his stash and, hey, what's the harm?

You and Sal end up laying in the middle of the field while Larry chases Ash and Todd around on the bleachers

They're laughing and howling at the moon so you two just listen

Sal takes his mask off cause he feels more comfortable laying with it off

He takes out his pigtails and you comb through his hair for a bit

You look him in the eyes and just stop brushing your fingers through his hair long enough for him to look up at you

your eyes both meet and you two just stare

You see the stars in his eyes

Sal just thinks "You're the prettiest person I've ever seen"

"what?" "uhhhh....nothing"

"It's okay Sal!" You giggle at him and he giggles too

you both start giggling at each other and you two hug each other

still, just facing each other, heads tucked into shoulders, chests pressed so tightly together, legs intertwined

It's calm

He feels safe

So safe and warm

It's wonderful

So he sighs and says" I think I'm in love with you"

And it's an accident

He doesn't regret it, not processing it until you say "I'm in love with you too silly"

And you stay like that

no panic or guilt

just tucked away into each other

The gang goes to 7/11 that night-morning really it is 3 am-and get slushies

all of them are teasing you guys as you hold hands on the way there

it's cute

He's cute

You're cute

You both feel warm in the jackets you switch from each other

it's cute

"God the stalker finally got the victim in their clasps, another tragically happy ending" "Shut it Larry Face"

College

You both end up staying in different places after high school

You take a year off college and stay with your parents at Addison Apartments and Sal moves into the gang's house

It's nice, you see each other regularly for dates and ghost hunts

it's blissful

Then Sal starts having his nightmares again and you come over regularly for sleepovers

it's months into this routine of going home, getting new clothes from the apartments, go out with Sal, come and sleep at his place to help with nightmares, repeat that Larry has the most brilliant idea

"Why don't you just move in with Sal? You practically live with him anyway."

This is in front of you two, you're both at the gang's house and drinking some morning coffee

Sal not really jokes and agrees

And then you genuinely agree

It's a big moment for you two

Sal wanted you to move in right away but was scared his nightmares would affect you or you two wouldn't end up working out

So you two complied and stayed where you were

But this is gonna be an actual conversation where he is up for it and knows you two are stable

So you talk about it

You two agree

And you end up moving in that day

it's not that hard since most of your clothes are over there already

It's basically just moving your bed, knick-knacks, and bookshelf in so that's just the big things since you have a queen

It's bliss from there

you both settle into a nice routine and after you start college Sal decides to focus on his music for rn and take a break

You get a job and the dynamic is just... so pure

you guys are finally, finally, okay and the best thing is that you're together

He's still adorable and you're still sweet

You guys end up getting your own apartment outside of Nockfell and Addison Apartments

The gang stays around

Larry ends up moving in with you two for a little bit until he can afford his own place

Sal gets a lot more gigs out there in the city than he would have gotten in Nockfell and you get a job at a little club

Sal ends up playing there often because of you

NSFW headcanons

Okay so Sal is a hopeless romantic

before he moved to Nockfell he never really had anybody else who was interested in him

so he was super hopeless in planning your first time together

once you had slept over with each other a couple of times he makes this grand layout and waits for you to walk in to see him spred on the bed, clad in some cute underwear and nothing else

turns out though you were sick and sent Larry to tell Sal you couldn’t come over cause your phone was dead and you didn’t wanna get him sick

So Larry ends up walking in on a naked Sal and scarying the everloving crap out of him

He makes fun of y'all after that about it

So your first time is honestly uneventful after that whole fiasco

Deciding to just causally hook up at his place instead

Sal is a switch but he leans for bottoming

he can top, he's really good at being a service top

He’s not insecure about himself, he’s pretty big for his height *cough* (9.7) *cough*

but he prefers being spoiled and called pretty

loves being called feminine nicknames like "pretty baby" even if he is topping

stuff that's gender-neutral but is more feminine in origin

He likes it when you do it doggy-style if you're topping just cause if you press him into the mattress he can feel you better inside of him

Whines so much when you go faster

really likes getting fucked stupid, he wants his throat to be sore and his ass to be bed-ridden

Loves topping you when you're in his lap straddling him

He really likes to make you do work for a while, guides you and everything until you're breaking

when you eventually end up asking for him to "just fuck me already Sal...please?" He wants tears down your face, crying and desperate for him or else it’s not gonna happen

He ends up fucking into you like a monster from there if you are

loves when you lay on your back and he's on his knees sitting and thrusting into you, pulling you onto his lap

very vocal either way but he laughs and giggles more with you, his moans are less fucked out and more "oh god, yes!" in nature

His sex drive is really high, he could go for hours

If you end up getting tired when he's bottoming he's gonna bounce on your pretty cock and ride you so pathetically

It's so pathetically adorable

but if he's topping and you get tired he usually asks you if he can fuck you to sleep

You end up agreeing only if he cleans you up after

He doesn't have any severe kinks or whatnot

He's really into being breed though

Tie him up too while you do it

he likes gags as well

when you breed him he'll end up feeling bad after you finish and he can't feel it anymore once it's out

So you end up giving him a buttplug after to compromise

Sometimes if he's being a brat you'll tie him up, gag him, and leave him with a vibrator over stimming him

You'll leave him in the room and come back to a crying Sal, salivating and so fucked out without having even cum once

If you're ever being the brat he does the exact opposite

He'll tie you up but make it so you can't close your mouth

You have to be quiet though, he doesn’t want to hear anything louder than breathing and your pathetic whimpers

you're over stimmed to hell and orgasm so much it's difficult to keep awake

but do not fall asleep cause if you don't get through it to the end it won't end (Consensually of course)

He and Larry definitely hooked up once or twice before meeting you so I think he'd ask you to let him in on it

It becomes a regular occurrence until Larry moves out

But when you do have a threesome and he is feeling dominant get ready to not move for the next three weeks

It's nice though and doesn't end up changing the relationship between you three

That's it, I gotta stop before I cream myself into dirtier shit cause I am his slut. I have Sal Fisher brain rot syndrome so I'll definitely make another one eventually. Request some stuff and I'll be happy to write!

Continuation for Threesome hcs here by request

-Laika

[drowningbydegrees]

As it turns out, falling into bed with your very best friend who you are privately very much in love with isn't nearly so nerve wracking as waking up with them the morning after.

Read on AO3

He can’t remember the last time waking up was a remotely soothing experience. Geralt’s sleep muzzy mind has no other word for the body plastered against his front from shoulder to hip, the steady heartbeat against his palm where his hand is splayed out across someone’s chest. His nose is tucked against the nape of someone’s neck, and the scent is far too familiar to be jarring.

“Jaskier,” he rumbles quietly, his mouth miles ahead of the rest of him. The quiet, absent pleasure of waking up tangled with someone who smells sleepy and content and like they’re his leaves no room for reason. There’s no room for anything really, except to press a kiss to whatever patch of skin he can find, savoring the soft sigh it earns him.

Jaskier is… The night before rushes back to him, and Geralt almost jerks away, even though it would be entirely pointless to bother with that now. He cracks an eye open and is met with the disaster that Jaskier’s hair, mussed in the night by sleep, and by Geralt’s fingers buried in it before that. Even as worry begins to creep in, he sort of wants to do it again.

This isn’t the first time they’ve shared a bed. This probably isn’t even the hundredth time they’ve shared a bed. This is most definitely the first time they’ve done so with so little clothing between them, none to be exact. There’s only the blanket tucked around them both, warm and lovely and unexpectedly distressing.

Geralt isn’t sorry, per se. Jaskier’s chest rises and falls under Geralt’s palm in the slow rhythm of sleep. It’s the loveliest thing Geralt can remember waking up to, and therein lies the problem. An emotion fed only grows, and this unruly, sprawling affection is the worst offender. Stupidly, Geralt had thought getting this out of his system would quell it, but the longing reaches a fever pitch instead.

Jaskier is beautiful, all the more so for the way he shifts in his sleep, closing the gap Geralt has tried to put between them. Geralt could happily wake like this every day for the rest of his life, but it isn’t a fair thing to ask of someone who flits from one love to the next like a butterfly between flowers. He will not trap Jaskier in this just because he happens to be besotted. Somehow, the resolve not to try to keep this does nothing to ease the guilt welling up that he wants to in the first place.

Nothing Jaskier said the night before conveyed meaning beyond a playful desire to tumble into bed together. Moving the target now would only be cruel. He should be rolling out of bed, hastening them back to normal. He should be proving that this has done nothing to harm their friendship. It isn’t Jaskier’s fault, after all, the way Geralt wants to breathe him in and kiss him senseless and forget the rest of the world until the innkeeper boots them out.

“Geralt?” Jaskier startles the witcher from his worries, wriggling impossibly closer and laying a palm over his knuckles. “You okay?”

“Thinking,” Geralt replies vaguely.

“Well, don’t hurt yourself,” Jaskier teases, still warm and lethargic with sleep. Geralt almost manages to take advantage of the levity of the moment and extricate himself, but before he can, Jaskier rolls over so they’re nearly nose to nose. His fingers cradle Geralt’s cheek and any attempt to escape now would just be graceless. “What about?”

Geralt doesn’t know how to answer, so he only hums noncommittally and hopes Jaskier will let it lie. Of course, Jaskier being Jaskier, does no such thing. He takes advantage of the change in positions to tangle his legs up with Geralt. “I can’t tell you to knock it off if you don’t tell me what it is.”

“We should get going.” Geralt tries once more to escape, frowning when Jaskier shows no sign of releasing him. It’s silly of course. Jaskier couldn’t hope to hold him here if Geralt was set on leaving. He just can’t actually make himself do it.

“Was it that bad a night?” It’s an easy opening, an invitation to stray back to their usual banter, but Geralt gets no further than a raised eyebrow before Jaskier is clasping a hand over the witcher’s mouth. “Wait. Don’t answer that or I might have to smother you with a pillow and that’ll just be unfortunate for both of us.”

Right there, with Jaskier smiling at him, Geralt can almost believe they’re going to survive this. Almost, but almost still leaves a distance he cannot cross. As soon as Jaskier pulls his hand back from Geralt’s mouth, the witcher opens it. “They’re not going to let us sleep in forever.”

“They might if I convince them to let me play again this evening. We could move on tomorrow,” Jaskier ventures, but something in Geralt’s face must give him pause. “Oh do not look at me like that. The world isn’t going to end just because you stop to take a breath once in a while, Geralt.”

“That’s not…” Geralt starts, but he doesn’t know how to finish. There are no words that convey the razor wire sensation of facing down the impermanence of Jaskier’s affections, of realizing how deeply his own feelings run far too late.

“Shh.” Geralt knew what to do with impulse, with Jaskier’s mouth crashing into his, with Jaskier’s hands scrabbling at him to shed his clothes. He doesn’t know what to do with the tender, intentional way Jaskier regards him this morning, lips pressing to the witcher’s brow and lingering afterwards. Does it mean something, or does Jaskier grant all his lovers this subdued, aimless devotion? Lust was so much simpler than this aching sort of affection that puts down roots even as Geralt tries to burn it away.

Geralt doesn’t precisely surrender, but he resigns himself to the lazy attention Jaskier is so determined to lavish on him. If he lets Jaskier turn him away later instead of now, there will be at least this one pleasant thing to remember. So he doesn’t complain at Jaskier’s fingers combing through his hair, or the bard’s body pressed warmly to his. If every touch feels like a harbinger of their demise, it’s still hard to let go of.

He almost passes things off as okay, he thinks, until Jaskier kisses him. It’s a brief thing, immediately withdrawn. “Geralt?”

If realizing the hopeless situation he’s stumbled into was uncomfortable, the idea of talking about it is nothing short of torture.

“Well, you haven’t shoved me out of bed yet, so you’re not mad. Talk to me,” Jaskier coaxes, his expression so openly concerned and affectionate, Geralt could scream.

“It’s no-” Geralt starts, but Jaskier shut him up with a theatrically sour look.

“I swear if you say nothing,” Jaskier threatens aimlessly, an easy smile on his lips, but underneath, Geralt can hear the way his anxious heart threatens to vibrate right out of his chest.

“I don’t know what this is,” Geralt admits because that, at least, is safe. It’s nothing about how he feels in relation to anything. It’s nothing about the want that simmers under the surface despite his guilt.

Jaskier’s brows scrunch in a way that would be endearing if the entire ordeal didn’t feel so fraught already. “I don’t think I follow. I mean, I know having a conversation isn’t your usual wheelhouse, but it’s not exactly a foreign concept.”

“Not. That.” Geralt bites the words out, tight and clipped while he gathers his frayed nerves enough to explain. “You’re not in the habit of keeping people. I don’t know what you want.”

For just a second, Jaskier looks like he’s been struck and Geralt wants desperately to take the whole thing back. But the bard’s expression smooths out and then twists up in a wry smile. “Of course I don’t. What would I even do? Drag someone else along on our travels?”

There’s a point Jaskier is making. It’s right there. He knows it is, but it eludes Geralt anyway. “You could have stayed somewhere if there was someone you wanted to stick around for.”

Jaskier laughs, just a giggle at first, and then so hard that even his efforts to bury his face against Geralt’s shoulder do nothing to stifle it. “You are absolutely right. I could fall completely and utterly in love with someone and choose to stick around.”

“I don’t see how that’s funny,” Geralt says flatly, staring at the far wall of their room. The urge to curl around Jaskier and forget the whole stupid conversation in strong, and maybe he’d have been better off doing that in the first place, but he doesn’t surrender to it.

“Well, you’re one of the smartest people I know, so these moments where you decide to be an absolute idiot happen to be hilarious,” Jaskier teases. The bard must take pity, because his palm slides to cradle Geralt’s jaw, and Jaskier puts himself right at eye level where the witcher can’t look away. “Don’t you realize? I fell in love with someone, and I chose to stick around. It happened ages ago.”

Geralt has long since given up on trying to anticipate what Jaskier will say to any given prompt, but that is… somehow not even on the same continent as anything he might have expected. “What?”

“You really are determined to make this as difficult and stressful for me as possible, aren’t you?” Jaskier asks. There’s a tightness around his eyes when he looks at Geralt, leaving the witcher with the awful realization that Jaskier must be flying as blind as he is. He’s probably as unsure of Geralt’s intent as Geralt is of his. And yet… “I chose you, you ridiculous man. I always choose you.”

That… that explains a lot, actually. Geralt swallows thickly as Jaskier’s nose bumps against his. “Why didn’t you ever say?”

“Ah yes. ‘Hello my very dear emotionally… hampered witcher who will sometimes, on a very good day, admit that we are friends. Would it it complicate things overly much if I also happened to be completely, utterly in love with you?’” Jaskier huffs out a helpless, almost panicky sort of laugh. “Tell me Geralt, is there any time in the last few years where that would have gone well?”

Years? Now, confronted with the full force of it, Geralt isn’t sure how he even missed it last night, let alone for so long. Now that he knows it’s always been a bit painfully obvious. And much as he’d like to, he can’t really argue against Jaskier’s point that it probably wouldn’t have gone well to say so. “What changed?”

Jaskier sighs in that dramatic, overdone way he tends to when he’s being asked what he thinks is an exceedingly silly question. “You did.”

“Hmm.” Geralt doesn’t comment and Jaskier doesn’t press for further conversation. It’s peaceful, this thing blossoming between them, now that his most immediate concerns have been silenced.

That Jaskier laid his heart on the line and asked for nothing back isn’t lost on Geralt though. The words catch and stick on his throat, so Geralt writes them into the tender way he traces the curve of Jaskier’s spine with his fingertips. He presses them against Jaskier’s lips, jaw, throat with lazy, lingering kisses.

“So tell me-” Jaskier starts, the words interrupted by a soft sigh as Geralt’s thumb skims the divot of his hip. It’s an unmistakably promising sound all by itself, even ignoring that delightful way Jaskier presses into the touch. He finishes his thought, but it’s unmistakably breathless. “What are you thinking now?”

The recognition that this isn’t some fluke settles warmly around him. This could be always. There are so few things a witcher really keeps, but for now he’s willing to entertain the notion that this might be one of them.

“I’m thinking…” Geralt mumbles against the side of Jaskier’s neck, delighting in the way the bard’s fingers tangle in his hair and tug. “That maybe we’ll leave tomorrow.”