#listen... .. li s ten

[peachesofteal]

for all of us who can't bear to read anything but CoD fanfiction (due to the 141's fat tits) do you have any all-time favs?

Such an awful, sick affliction. I made one of these lists a while back but couldn't find it so you’re in luck because I have plenty of favorites and I’m happy to share them (in no particular order. I KNOW I'm forgetting at least ten fics I've read and loved but I have a goldfish brain today, forgive me):

And please, read the tags/warnings. Your consumption is your own responsibility.

Neon Medusa Too sweet not to share Ghost and Red Fox Alford plea The Willow Maid Exfiltration The Arrangement Civilian Asset See no evil Squeeze me I squeak MildLimerence Mine & Yours Saltwater Metanoia to you I can admit (that I'm too soft for all of it) white flag blood on my shirt, rose in my hand totally platonic Surviving you imprimatura Dog all that's said in the lowlight birdsongs or advice and symphonies for your children Happiness songs that sound like sea foam down to the marrow roommate gaz Chink in the Armour Man-sized Hummingbird don't leave me locked in your heart Listening In Situationship-verse The Scottish Cabin in the Woods

Additions to this list as of June 12

Spoils of War Where Your Feet Pass Neighborly and/or not The Rear Window jigsaws pictures in frames, kisses on cheeks sirius c Spoils Cabin Fever / part one lotus flower the lies we tell Who Dares Win babytrap anthology The Hard Way Of Sea Foam and Iron bury me beneath the basswood tree Wicked Harvest Tiger balm baby blue Keeper/Kept Something Sweet Stay Away appetite

[whinypuppi]

ᶜʷ: ᶠᵉᵐ!ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ, ᵉᵈᵍⁱⁿᵍ/ᵗᵉᵃˢⁱⁿᵍ, ᵍʳⁱⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍ, ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ⁿᵒⁱˢᵉˢ, ˢˡⁱᵍʰᵗˡʸ ᵈᵒᵐⁱⁿᵃⁿᵗ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ, ᶜʰᵒˢᵒ ⁱˢ ᵃ ˢʷⁱᵗᶜʰ, ᵛᵒⁱᶜᵉ ᵏⁱⁿᵏ, ᵒʳᵃˡ ⁽ᶠᵉᵐ ʳᵉᶜᵉⁱᵛⁱⁿᵍ⁾, ᵐᵃˢᵗᵉʳᵇᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ⁽ᵍⁱᵛⁱⁿᵍ⁾, ᵖʳᵒᵒᶠʳᵉᵃᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᵒⁿᶜᵉ ˣ³

plot: “💋choso's your leg-humping puppy.”

the art is by @koshinomoli on twitter! thank me later, freakfucks!

he let out a guttural groan as you ground your leg against his crotch area—his thighs clenching and his breathing already beginning to become heavy.

“mm, please, baby,” he spoke in a whiny tone with his head resting on your upper thigh. you ran your hands through his hair and even tugged on one of his pigtails. “ah—fuck...need you. don't keep me waiting, c'mon.”

you hummed, pressing your knee into him harder until he grunted once more, digging his nails into your hips and cursing under his breath. you took the hair ties out of his hair and threw them to the side, grabbing a fistful of his pretty locs. “i got you, cho. you can hold out a little longer.”

your voice was sweet as honey to him and caused him to tremble under your grasp. “you know what to do. be good for me, choso.”

he liked your commanding tone of voice—loved it, even. he listened to you and slowly began to hump your leg once more, choking out another whine as beads of sweat dripped down his forehead.

as much as he loved listening to you, he instantly regret it and knew he had to stop before he spewed all over the place. “i can't—can't move. 'm gonna cum, sweet girl.” his voice was incredibly raspy. you'd been teasing him now for over an hour. an hour of this torture bringing him so close to sweet relief before snatching it away from him.

“tch, this is the forth time, cho. don't be so greedy. wait a little longer for me, okay, pretty boy?” you tugged harder on his hair—lifting his chin and rubbing your thumb on his bottom lip. he was trembling. he needed you so desperately he almost came from your thumb touching him alone.

“pl-please, you know i can't. my dick 's throbbing so hard it hurts. just lemme cum this once. i'll do anything you want.” he begged, and seeing his eyes full of tears nearly made you give in. nearly.

“ten more minutes, okay, crybaby? i'll even let you play with my cunt.”

he eyes rolled into the back of his head when your leg came up to press even harder into his aching boner, gasping for air and sqeezing your hips until you hushed him softly. you slowly pulled your pants down, embarrassment setting on your cheeks in the form of blush when you saw the wet spot on your panties.

“h..hah. does it get you off seeing me look so pathetic? you make me crazy.” he mumbled, tugging your panties down for you and swallowing back his drool when he saw how it conncted to your slick as he pulled the fabric away. “s-soaked.”

“g-grind against me as you eat me out.” you spoke needily, trying not to let it show. he obliged, moving his face closer to take a long whiff of your dripping heat. you shuddered and now used both hands to gently tug his hair, urging him to slowly lap at your clit.

he's always been somehow gifted at eating pussy despite him being inexperienced before he met you. he dragged his tongue over your swollen clit in slow circles to enjoy your taste, continuing when you let out a little whimper.

“yeah, just li-like that. if you make me cum, i might just stroke your cock for you.” hearing that you had a reward you had in stock for him, his eyes slightly widened and he began to pick up the pace. you gasped at the sudden change, your pussy beginning to throb and clench around nothing. you were already close listening to choso's whimpers and whines that you felt the familiar knot in your stomach build.

slurping noises filled the room combined with his groans from your succulent taste. “so fucking sweet...could eat 'cha up.” he spoke between lapping up your juices and sucking on your little nub.

“d-didn't your mom tell you not to t-alk with your mouth...full?” your breathing was heavy and your face remained incredibly flushed.

it didn't take long for you to end up cumming all over his face—nearly screaming when the intensity of your orgasm reverberated throughout your body. your vision blacked out for a couple of seconds and you couldn't hear choso praising you while rubbing comforting circles on your thigh.

when you came back down to earth, your legs felt like jelly and you could hear your heartbeat in your ears. “mm, you taste so good. really good. you'll touch me now, right? please.” he licked his lips of any residue remaining, swallowing the last of your tasty fluid.

“t-told you i might, cho. but 'm feeling nice.” his dick throbbed under your leg, strained and restricted by his pants. “get on the bed and strip, yeah? i won't go easy on you.”

listening, he got on the bed and began to take off his pants, then boxers. his dick sprung out and was beyond hard—pulsing with pre-cum and leaking like a fountain at the tip.

“tell me how bad you want it, baby.” you spoke as you also on the bed in front of him, shooting daggers into his cock. “need it. need your hands on me. wanna cum s'bad.”

you were quiet for a moment, hand slowly grabbing him at the base. he whimpered like the dog he was, tensing but letting you use him as you please.

“i know you're real close. this shouldn't take long, but don't cum 'til i say you can.” you partially teased, peripheral vision noting the blush on his cheeks.

“can't promise anything.” when you started jerking him fast, any cockiness (haha) he had in him faded instantly. his eyes shut tightly and his mouth opened wide, moan after moan shooting out of him. after being teased for so long, he was already feeling terribly sensitive. “would be a shame if i had to edge your pretty cock all day.” the thought of it made him stiffle another whine, hand running through his long hair.

“p..pl-please no more edging, baby. hate being edged s'much.” he begged, but you only continued to jerk him—more pre spilling out and making things extra slippery. his cock slid in and out of your fist with ease, helping for natural lube. his tip was red from the stimulation and he twitched in your hand, veins bulging out.

the tears that were in his eyes earlier began to spill out and down his cheeks—pleasure overcoming him as his thighs clenched and his body shivered. “i know, i know. poor crybaby. gonna cum?”

“yes, yes! PLEASE can i cum? can hardly take it. 'm gonna pass out, honey.” he deserved relief. he really did! he's been dealing with this for so long. it was only fair. you got to cum.

“mm, fine. be a good boy and cum all over my hand for me.” you whispered in his ear, rubbing one hand over his slit and the other jerking his cock as fast as you could.

hearing your voice in such a low, sultry tone was enough to send him over the edge and make him cum everywhere—on his shirt, face, and even your hands. you brought them up to your mouth to lick your fingers clean, sucking them fingers until they were spotless. his lungs hurt and his cock began to soften against his abdomen—thighs still quaking from his hard orgasm. you pressed a soft kiss to his lips, holding him tight as he fell limp in your arms.

“we should do this more often, cho. you sound so pretty when you whine.”

[andcars]

# 𝗚𝗥𝟲𝟯 ─── STUPID IN LOVE WITH YOU BON APPETIT FICS . . . MASTERLIST . . . TAGLIST . . . AO3

GEORGE RUSSELL IS HOPELESSLY in love with you. a few headcanons on how he acts when he's with you. this is part as an extra of the bon appetit series but can be read without reading it.

TAGS . . . # female reader, pining george, reader may or may not be oblivious TYPE OF FIC . . . # headcanons, imagine, bon appetit; extra LENGTH . . . # ten headcanons/imagines, 779 words

pining!george where he tries to act casual when he invites you out, saying that he's bored and you're free. he's attempting to be real subtle about the way he texts, 'Yeah no, I don't have anything to do :/ Wanna hang?' but really he's pacing back and forth seeing if you've responded

pining!george saying that he's not needy or clingy. but it's in the small things like brushing up against your shoulder. guiding you by the shoulder when walking somewhere. random pictures or texts in the middle of the day; sometimes it's his wheels and the other times the helmet's marks. he can't stand not talking to you.

pining!george always tries to learn everything you like. 'What's your favourite band? Oh, the Cannons? Oh I'm pretty sure I've listened to their songs a few times before' and lies for a little bit about not remembering the song and is glad when you autofill the information for him. the next day he tells you he listened to them again and you talk about their music. it's these things he always want to impress you.

pining!george invites you out for the race weekends. weekends. multiple. he invites you to practically each one that everyone calls you the newest wag on the paddock. he never denies the rumour, just saying that it's not the media's problems to meddle in your relationship. but he lives for that attention, for people thinking you two look great together. he never brings it up in fear that you would think it's weird.

pining!george isn't the best guy at DIYs. however, friendship bracelets have been all over his feed lately and you've liked them all. he's never seen you with one on despite your interest. he buys an entire kit and with it multiple trinkets of different designs. when he gifts you your first friendship bracelet, it spells out his nickname for you designed with trinkets that resemble racing. he's obsessed with making them when your reaction to that one was absolutely golden.

pining!george is a fashion icon, everyone knows that. but when he's with you he's learned to adopt to your style instead. grunge? he's sporting a beanie and a spiked belt for the first time in his life. dark academia? bring back the long dark brown coats and sweaters. rockstars? you don't believe your eyes when you see george russel wearing a low tank top and patterened pants. he expanded his closet just to match your taste

pining!george is very much interested in your job. it doesn't matter whether or not you really like it, he makes it so that you enjoy it and is in awe of the things you do. oh, you travel around for catering services? he asks you to come over to cater for mercedes instead, saying that your cooking is probbaly the best thing that could come into the paddock.

pining!george of course loves your cooking. it doesn't really matter how good your cooking really is, it's like you make everything taste good. he feels like eating in your presence just makes everything taste like it's a godsent meal. no restaurant compares to you, though. he keeps saying it after he tasted your food, 'They added too much salt into this one. I ordered it because you cooked this for me before but it's a shame they can't really cook it like you do.'

pining!george 's favourite date location is probably yours or his house. he invited you over to his hotel room on a media day because the hotel was swarmed outside and he wasn't really thinking about going to papparazi. so you and he hang out there and honestly, it was fun. the both of you cook together, him miserably failing and you're effortlessly amazing. he watches local tv with you, nevermind if you don't know the language. it's entertaining to see a woman yell and slap a man across the face while everyone else is shocked. drama doesn't need a language barrier, after all. he even invites you to stay in his bed while he goes to the couch. you want to retaliate but he's already making himself comfy on the couch. you feel bad but oh well, you give him a blanket for his effort.

pining!george doesn't know that you are very amused by his behaviour. whether or not you are actually aware of his flirting, it makes you laugh everytime. you watch him change clothes, buy albums, make friendship bracelets, complain about restaurant food all with a smile on your lips. he doesn't really see himself in your eyes, and he looks so good loving you.

🗒 𝗣𝗔𝗣𝗘𝗥 𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗜𝗟 . . . did this during classes and i only got to make a few TT. but i plan to do a smau or a fic on the weekend, so look forward to it! and lmk any feedback on the graphic if you have any. i'm always never satisfied but god i just want a template to be able to use when i'm quickly posting ˎˊ˗ ᝰ.

──── 📨 @delululeclerc @coconut-dreamz

you support me best on tumblr with reblogs and comments ! ── by andcars ⟡

[foodiegoogie]

wonder what's in the cards for us?

james potter x ex!reader ✮ 1.7k

summary: you live in james’ mind, rent-free, even after all these years.

cw/tags: gn!reader (no use of y/n), lovers (mentioned) to exes to (???), muggle!au, modern!au, (sorta???) angst... w/ an ending (wink wonk), and as u can probably already tell, this is from james' pov :>

note: now i also didnt know what i was doing with this one even more than the other james fic i just wrote 😭 but thats fine, ive managed to churn it out at least! so to whoever comes across this, well.. i hope you give it a chance 🫶 bcoz james is a very lovesick puppy here despite the angsty vibe LOL and also, this is yet again based on another niki song called, "facebook friends" 😋 ENJOYY !

( ♡ )

Amidst a desk full of open textbooks filled with dog-eared pages, highlighted phrases, and color-coordinated tabs lies a laptop—also opened, the screen glaring brightly within the dark confines of James Potter’s dorm room, with multiple tabs open on a browser; they consist of articles, research domains, and the like.

In front of this laptop is James Potter himself, staring right at the screen with a sullen look on his face. He has his headphones on (most likely listening to a song matching his mood), his forearms are placed onto the desk, and his chin is resting on them. It was easy to say that James was currently not having the time of his life trying to study for finals.

But then again, he was also currently not studying for finals despite being surrounded by his textbooks, along with the multiple tabs opened on his computer. No, he was staring right at an open Facebook tab, eyes darting over every single aspect of a specific profile as his fingers swiped up and down on the touchpad, scrolling through the profile.

He’s inherently aware that he should be studying, of course. Like many other college students think, the finals season was a force to be reckoned with, and it was absolutely critical that every spare time spent is for studying for the examinations. But as far as James was also aware of—he couldn’t sit still and be laser-focused on doing godforsaken tasks such as studying for his finals.

And so, here he was, scrolling mindlessly on your Facebook profile. Because, really, he tends to get into a sentimental mood whenever he studies. It’s either he’s looking at a photo album and reminiscing memories, grabbing random things displayed around his room and thinking about what they meant to him, or, you know, scrolling mindlessly on Facebook because that’s where his past connection with you is immortalized.

He doesn’t quite know how it all started—for one thing, he remembers being a highschool heartthrob, girls and boys alike falling at his feet. And if he was feeling particularly spunky, he’d entertain a few pretty birds or two. All the while, they had never meant anything to him other than an ego boost or just a mere distraction (which, he admittedly thinks now, made him a dick).

But amongst all of these flings, James remembers one differently than the others. He remembers you—you and your smile, your laugh, your ability to make him feel like he’s on top of the world, your ability to suddenly make everything good in the world only ten times better. He remembers absolutely everything about you. Both the good, and the bad.

He never tries to think of the bad, but even as he reminisces on the good times he’s had with you, it makes him feel just as sad as when he thinks of the bad times. So it’s a never-ending struggle against keeping you close in his memories whilst also being aware that it wasn’t right, it wasn’t healthy for him. Only fools have attachment issues with their highschool ex that they carry on to their college life.

Perhaps that was why it had all gone downhill for the both of you, he thought. As a young teenage boy capable of attracting attention from left and right, and regularly switching between person to person, he couldn’t handle ‘serious.’ He’d selfishly wanted you all to himself, but without the limits of commitment. Meanwhile, you wanted ‘serious.’ You wanted commitment. James was scared because he was unfamiliar with it all.

So naturally, you had drifted apart, never again boarding on the seesaw of your ‘relationship’ with each other. The one that bordered on the line between friends and lovers.

And in a petty attempt to ‘get back at you’ and forget about you wholly, James strived to disconnect you from across all his social media accounts, erasing any and every semblance of a connection between the two of you.

Well, all except Facebook.

It’s a guilty pleasure for him, checking on your Facebook profile every now and then. And each time, it comes to his surprise that he’s still even able to view your profile freely, as you hadn’t made the move to unfriend him like he expected you to. He feels lucky that he’s still able to keep up with your life despite not having to be in it anymore. But then again, you had always been kind back then; it’s one of the many other reasons why he still loves you, really.

But oh, how he wishes he was still in it.

James would never admit it aloud to anyone that even after all this time, he’s still not over you. Yet, at the same time, he doesn’t want to be over you. You were the next best thing to something he didn’t even know he was looking for at the time. He had underestimated how much of an impact your presence had made on him, regardless of how brief it was.

He misses you, so to speak.

It’s a pretty shitty feeling, to miss someone he can’t really see anymore, nor talk to or reach out to.

On some days, it’s easy to bear. College keeps him busy, his friends keep him entertained, and he’s been going out on a few dates, too - trying to find someone better than you so he can finally subdue the lingering feelings in his heart, and end this endless cycle of longing and waiting and loving.

And most nights, he’s able to sleep peacefully with dreams of a distant fantasy where he’s managed to finally find someone new, someone better. Someone else who could give him what you took back.

But on the other days and nights, James faces the harsh truths that there was simply no one better than you, and that a part of him will always long for you back in his life, right where you belonged.

And so, as he scrolls through your Facebook profile, and sees glimpses into your life nowadays, he can’t help but miss you more than he already does, unknowingly and unforgivably. Of course, he’s highly aware that shamelessly stalking you every now and then was incredibly creepy of him, yet, he can’t help it. He’s silently relieved by the fact that there appears to be no sign of you in a relationship at the moment, almost selfishly thinking, maybe I have a chance.

But he knows it’s a far stretch, knows that whatever the both of you had with each other was a thing of the past now; nothing but a fleeting memory. And now that he’s a little older and wiser than he was when he met you, James has resigned himself to the fact that he may never be with you again in the way he wants to.

He’s not afraid of ‘serious’ anymore, nor is he afraid of commitment, and he no longer blames it on his unfamiliarity with them either. Now, he wants it too.

But as always, he was late to realize it. And at the same time, you were no longer there to wait for him to.

And so, as James continues to pine after you even after all this time, he’s foolishly hoping that the two of you would cross paths again; get to know each other again, get to know him again now that he’s managed to grow into a better version of himself. He wishes that you’d met this version of him first, because maybe then, you would have stayed together.

But of course, as the harsh reality of things would have it, James is more than happy to just stay friends with you on Facebook. He’ll keep you close in his memories while silently hoping for a chance to try again. To try it all with you again.

Suddenly, he feels the desk shake from beneath him, a vibrating sensation that pulls him out of his thoughts of you. It comes from his phone, which now shows a wacky selfie of Sirius, indicating a call from him.

James stares at it for a few seconds, debating on whether he should answer his friend’s call despite the likely reason that it’s just another one of Sirius’ jests or drunk calls, or maybe even a butt dial. But he decides to welcome the distraction eventually, placing his headphones around his neck as he moved to grab the phone, pressing it to his ear.

“Hello—”

“OPEN THE BLOODY DOOR, YOU MORON! I’VE BEEN KNOCKING FOR THE PAST TEN MINUTES HERE!”

James nearly jolts out of his seat as he pulls the phone away from his ear by Sirius’ yelling. He has half a mind to yell back at him and explain that he was ‘in the middle of something,’ which led to his not noticing his friends’ knocking.

But he doesn’t find the energy to do it no matter how annoying Sirius was being. So, he sighs.

James hears the banging on his door now, and the yelling comes again from both outside his door, and the speakers on his phone. It forms an echo of Sirius’ voice demanding that he be let in, and it gives James a headache.

He calls out, “I’m coming!” in an annoyed voice, rushing to close the open tab of your Facebook profile on his laptop so he could finally open the door for his friend.

What James doesn’t notice though is that during the process of closing the tab, he’d managed to accidentally leave a like on one of your old posts. He never visits your profile again after letting Sirius come in and hang around his dorm for the remainder of the day. Thus, imagine his surprise the next day, as he opens the Facebook tab again, finding a message waiting for him, and from you.

hi james :) how are you doing?

And just like that, the inhibitions that had once held him back from indulging in his desires to try another chance with you are completely shed as James hastily typed out his response.

( ♡ )

surprise! it's an open ending ;) thanks for reading the whole thing <333 and as always, likes, replies, and reblogs are very much appreciated :] lmk what u thought abt this!!! <3

[violetrainbow412-blog]

White lies [S. R]

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

word count: 4.6k

summary: you meet Spencer thanks to a nice coincidence and you become recurring chess partners, but he leaves out a small detail

taglist: @navs-bhat @reidwritings @tricia-shifting14

Spencer had come back to that park after a long time and, honestly, it was as quiet as he remembered it. He liked to sit there to read, watch the birds, listen to the trees hitting each other; just enjoy a moment of life. Matthew, a teenager he used to play chess with, sometimes kept him company, but he knew from his mother that he had sprained his ankle and could barely get out of his room, so those evenings it was just him and a couple of old men in a remote section of his favorite hangout.

The book he had in hand could have finished in less than ten minutes if he had wanted to, but it was one he had a particular interest in and so he was taking notes in a notebook by his side, lengthening his reading time. And besides, he had proposed to take things a little more calmly since the recovery of his leg, now that he could walk by himself, and that seemed to him a quite useful exercise.

The man was dimly aware that someone was sitting at the table next to his, but curiosity was not enough to force him to look away from the pages. It wasn't until after a while that he heard the characteristic sound of the chess pieces moving in the box that formed the board that he paid attention and noticed that the one who was settling there was a woman.

He tried not to look at you too much so as not to make you uncomfortable, but the quick scan he gave you only led him to the conclusion that you might be a college student and that you were very pretty. You were carefully arranging the pieces and once you finished, you looked around the whole park as if you were looking for something or someone, and then you took a pack of chocolates from your backpack and put it to the side of the board, somewhat disappointed that you hadn't found who you expected.

"Are you waiting for Matthew?" Spencer dared to ask. You were startled and had to ask him to repeat the question, a little afraid that a stranger had made such a pointed remark "I've seen him a couple of times eating those sweets and since he likes chess, I thought you were expecting him"

"Oh, you know him" you exclaimed, a little calmer. You were surprised by how observant the man had been, for a couple of random pieces of information had led him to the correct conclusion "I was his babysitter for a while and I ran into his mother the other day and she said he comes here in the evenings so I thought I'd come to see him”

“Too bad, he has a sprained ankle,” he informed you, with a sad grin. “Maybe he'll be back in a week or two. I'm Spencer, by the way."

"Y/N" you introduced yourself, shaking the hand the man was offering you "So you guys are friends?"

"Sometimes I play with him"

"Huh yeah?"

"Yeah. He is very good"

“I taught him,” you said, quite proud of yourself, “I hated when he asked to watch TV, and I brought all kinds of board games over to his house, until finally chess captivated him. In those years he participated in school contests so I was excited to play with him "

“Did you win some?”

“I was undefeated” you exclaimed, even more proud of yourself and smiling wistfully “But after a few years I gave it up. Matthew continued, so I thought it would be nice to dust myself off a bit,” you smiled.

You took a moment to look at the man, who might be only a few years older than you, and like him you were somewhat captivated. His long, wavy, golden hair gleamed in the sun and he seemed to wear clothes that were, if not expensive, then at least quite elegant. You looked at the stack of books and the notes scattered on the table with great interest, because frankly the only men who met all those characteristics used to be your grandfather's age and, although their talks were interesting, you couldn't get to think of them with anything more than tenderness. This person was different, almost like a sage out of a book.

You didn't know where you found the words to invite him to play with you and you didn't know why he agreed. He seemed busy when you arrived, which made you think that he might even be a teacher, but he stopped his activities to pay attention to you and that made you feel special.

"You like them? You can take some if you want. They were for Matty, but I'll buy him some more,” you said kindly, referring to the candies between you, to which Spencer nodded with a smile. You used to play with strangers all the time in that park, so you didn't think it was weird, but never one as handsome as the guy in front of you. You probably wouldn't even have dared to talk to him if he hadn't talked to you “White or black?”

“Black,” Spencer replied. You thought that maybe he was just being chivalrous to you by letting you move first, but you were also overconfident in your abilities and thought that he might feel bad if you turned out to be better.

"I'm not very good, I have to admit" you blatantly lied.

"Relax, I'm not either" he also lied. But neither of you could notice it.

The way Spencer saw the situation, he had two options: the first, demonstrate his extraordinary intelligence by beating you with a couple of moves, or the second, which was to turn off his brain for a while to give yourself a chance and lengthen the game a bit. He knew that, if he took the first option, you would most likely just smile and flatter him like everyone else did, or you might even ask him how he had done that. But Spencer was sick of being treated like a genius, despite being one, and having that label branded in his mind every place he went. He loved to learn, teach and know as much as he could on all subjects and he wasn't one bit ashamed of the abilities his mother gave him at birth, but his short experience with women led him to deduce that he had a better chance of continuing to talk to you throughout the afternoon if he would just play a little silly and pretend not to know what he was doing. And he definitely wanted to be with you that day.

It had been a while, and at some point, you moved a bishop.

Check in 4 moves if Spencer moved the rook.

He moved a pawn, you took the pawn.

Bishop takes the pawn and check in 10 moves.

He moved the knight. You moved your queen

Rook takes queen then checkmate in 5 moves.

But Spencer ignored any of the logical options his brain was giving him. He was moving pieces wrong on purpose and moving another pair well just so he could enjoy your face of concentration and victorious smiles when you made a smart move that he could have foreseen from the start of the game. He analyzed your game, you attacked hard at first, you were impulsive, but at some point you changed your modus operandi to a more calculating and strategic one, your eyebrows gave you away when you were going to make an important play.

"Check" you muttered at some point. Spencer knew how to beat you, but, I repeat, he moved badly on purpose "And that's mate"

"Oh really?" he said, pretending to be puzzled.

"Yes, you left the way clear for my bishop" you explained, with a kind tone but also somewhat condescending. It didn't seem like you wanted to make fun of him, but rather you were looking for a way to make him see his mistake, without knowing that your companion knew exactly what he had done wrong.

"Oh, it's true"

"Either way it's fine, you played excellent" you exclaimed to comfort him, while you offered him a piece of candy and smiled broadly. Spencer looked at his phone, expecting to see a message from JJ saying there was a case to attend to, but he found nothing.

"A rematch?" he said, trying his luck, to which you answered yes quite happily.

Spencer won that game and it was inevitable for both of you to wish for another game just for the tiebreaker, with you crowning yourself the winner of the evening. Between movements you took the opportunity to look at him and you would lie when you said that your cheeks didn’t feel hot from being in the presence of such a peculiar specimen. Most of the men around you behaved like cavemen, so being with someone that civilized was most pleasant.

“I have to go home, it's getting dark already,” you said, quite sad, after that third game. The candy had already run out and Spencer's book had been forgotten to the side, but you still didn't want to walk away with just the memory of those hazel eyes “But if you're ever around again, we could play… if you want."

"I'd love to" he replied, sounding quite sincere.

Would it be too daring to ask for his number? What if it had just been a nice time that arose from a coincidence? You didn't want to spoil it, or scare him away, or anything like that.

You only said goodbye saying that you hoped to see him again and he said the same thing before the two of you went off on your own, fearing you would never see each other again.

After a few days you went back to the park hoping to meet him, but you were disappointed to see the empty spot. The process was repeated a couple of times and although you were carrying books to spend the afternoon, the chess board could never be missing from your bag, keeping the hope of finding him again. Time wasn't wasted after all, as you took the opportunity to continue your schoolwork outdoors, but it saddened you to think that you probably wouldn't see Spencer again, going so far as to regret not finding a way to contact him. But whoever perseveres, reaches, and you verified it when one afternoon you finally found him sitting at the same table as the first time.

“Spencer! What a joy to see you here” you greeted him casually, as if you hadn't been going to the park repeatedly just hoping to find him.

The man apologized to you saying that his work had kept him so busy that he hadn't even had time to stop by and when you asked what he did for a living you were met with an ambiguous answer that he held a position in a government office. Not a complete lie, but not the truth either.

That's how you kept finding him around to play with him, until at some point you barely paid attention to the board to give priority to the chat. Every time you saw each other you thought, without the slightest idea of the truth, that Spencer had been practicing to improve, because sometimes out of five games you only won two. But other days you might have a perfect streak that, while it made you feel happy, allowed you to comfort your friend a little.

You had started carrying different snacks to at some point find out which one was his favorite, which turned out to be the trail mix and, truth be told, it was something you expected, as if it fit perfectly with his personality. That's how you started carrying a pack of those whenever you could, alternating it with other kinds of more substantial snacks that Spencer loved.

So it was that, during the nearly two months that Matthew was unable to go to the park, you and Spencer kept each other company. You learned that he was an avid reader that, according to your first impression of him, he had taught a few classes, that he lived alone, loved classical music, was a big fan of science fiction and science in general, in short, he was a bit of a nerd. He was always telling you interesting facts that you couldn't even have imagined and you always listened very carefully.

One day you were concentrating on your next move when his voice interrupted you. It was a very beautiful afternoon and you had decided to put on light clothes that fluttered in the wind.

“I forgot to tell you. I brought you a book” was what he had said and from his brown leather briefcase he extracted a book with a faded cover that he handed over to you with great care.

“Sylvia Plath?” you exclaimed with total emotion. You had talked about the interest you had in starting to read it in one of the last meetings, because considering Spencer a connoisseur of literature, he would probably know which book to start with "Where did you get it?"

"It was from my mother, but she won't mind if you read it"

You carefully caressed the back with your fingertips with the biggest smile on your face, feeling flushed at the obvious show of attention you were receiving.

"Thank you so much"

"It's no big deal"

"I'll give it back to you soon"

"Take the time you need" he exclaimed sweetly. He was wearing a gray knit vest and a black dot-patterned formal shirt, along with a brown tie. His hair framed his face and looked so soft it made you want to reach out and just stroke it. You had been so stunned watching him, wondering if he was a real man or not, until he reminded you that it was your turn.

You moved your queen. Check in 7 moves.

"Spencer, can I confess something to you?"

He moved his bishop. He is saved from check.

"Huh, yeah"

“These last few weeks I have had a lot of fun. I really like being with you”

He looked at you for a second, as if he was waiting for a but that never came. There was no but you just liked being with him. Reid didn't usually find many people who would enjoy his company without a work commitment involved and that you had said something like that made him feel a warmth in his heart that he couldn't describe.

"I just wanted to tell you that, no... I hope I wasn't weird"

"I like being with you, too," he exclaimed immediately, hoping you didn't get the wrong idea. "It's probably the most normal and quiet thing that happens during my week."

“You've never told me what you do at work, is it paperwork and stuff? Bureaucratic processes?

“Something like that” he lied “Most of the time it's stressful and very tiring. That's why I like coming here, with you, because it helps me relax. I used to play with a very dear friend, but I took a break because… I didn't feel like going back to it. But I have to admit that you are a wonderful player."

"I hope so. Because I'm about to beat you” you smiled, moving another piece and putting the game in check again. Spencer always knew that he had to move to win, but again he made enough mistakes to get beaten by you. Once this happened, he took his king and handed it to you with a small smile, allowing your hands to touch.

It was already getting a bit dark and that was the signal for both of you to come home.

"You won 3 out of 4," he informed you, more cheerful than he was supposed to be. "Rematch tomorrow?"

“Of course”

One of you always asked that and in the same way the other always answered yes. Come to think of it, it was pretty funny that when you lost the next afternoon you won and vice versa, allowing the promise of a rematch to always hold.

"Do you live far from here?"

You knew, of course, that there was another question implicit in it. He not only wanted to know how far away your apartment was, but he wanted to know if he could walk you there. You'd never thought of the two of you hanging out outside of your afternoon game sessions, so you told him it was about a fifteen-minute walk away, and he naturally offered to walk you there.

"You're not a serial killer or anything like that, are you?" you joked, although a part of you said it to watch his reaction and detect (if possible) any sign of a lie.

“I'm not, but it's quite right that you doubt me,” he replied, as he packed his things into his briefcase, smiling slightly as if he hadn't been offended but rather admired by a good question “From any man, really, because the largest number of serial killers is concentrated in the United States and 95% of murderers worldwide are… well, men. Possibly this is due to the levels of testosterone and the social implications of masculinity that exist, this isn’t counting the traumas that they may have developed during their lives. Speaking specifically of men with psychopathy, most of them are able to manipulate their chosen victims to gain their trust before harming them. Many murderers have been described as charming, an example of this is Ted Bundy, who even when he was arrested many women attended the trials with banners and self-declared his fans. A few years ago there was even a killer here in Virginia who would date young women and then kill them, because it was easier for him not to resist, but luckily he only took the lives of 3 women before he was caught”

Spencer wasn't even aware of the changes in expressions on your face until he looked at you, completely serious and doe-eyed.

"Should I be worried about the fact that you listed reasons why I shouldn't let you accompany me?"

“Oh no, no” he had probably scared you and it made him feel so sorry and silly “I just… like to read about it, I promise. In addition, I have a degree in psychology, sometimes we analyzed the profile of the murderers to understand their psyche. But if you don't want me to come with you, that's fine."

"I'll take the risk"

"I didn't mean to scare you, I'm sorry"

"You didn’t do it. It just wasn't such a convincing defense” you carefully reached out to grab his arm and encourage him to walk beside you, flashing him a sweet smile.

Spencer, still feeling guilty for having rambled on about psychopaths, walked by your side for a while, and until you started talking his mood improved. A lot of times your talks didn't have to do with anything scientific and focused more on pop culture stuff that Spencer was completely unaware of. But you never teased him, but little by little you started to explain to him the plot of different movies or celebrity gossip of the moment, which was very funny for him. Your vibrant personality had him completely fascinated.

"I'll see you tomorrow, right?" you said once you got to your building. They were nice condos that Spencer had seen before.

"If something unforeseen does not arise, yes"

"Thanks for joining me. And for not being a murderer too” you laughed, still in a joking mood, while he looked at the ground a little embarrassed.

"Your lack of confidence hurts me"

"Admit that it's your fault, Doctor Reid" taking advantage of the artificial height difference that standing a few steps higher than him gave you, you leaned over to hug him goodbye and he sighed deeply as he felt the softness of your body against his "I hope you're well. Rest"

"Bye," he breathed out softly, entranced by the sight of your kind eyes looking directly at him.

He went home wishing with all his might that the job in the unit would allow him to meet you, but unfortunately it didn't, and since the two of you still hadn't thought of exchanging numbers he didn't find a way to apologize to you. He went to the park for several days in a row, but he couldn't find you anywhere and he was afraid that you wouldn't want to see him again. Had he done something wrong? Had you really believed that he could be a criminal? He probably explained to you what FBI unit he worked for and all that weird stuff he was telling you would have started to make sense.

He had already given up hope just the day you were practically running to the park, your chessboard bouncing through your bag and your breathing heavy as a sign of your poor physical condition.

You expected him to be there even with your repeated absences and when you finally arrived you noticed that around your usual table was a small group of people. You didn't know what it could be so you decided to go look too and you were surprised to discover Matty, whom it was the first time you'd seen in months, playing with nothing more and nothing less than your game partner. 

You knew Matty enjoyed playing fast chess, so a clock was sitting next to both of them, and Spencer seemed to be playing better than he ever had in his life. His eyes lasted a second to scan the positions of the pieces and another to move his own, without needing to make any effort to plan the right move.

Everyone around was impressed by the skill of the teenager and the man who, according to your deductions, had not played more than 15f minutes. After a couple more minutes Spencer smiled broadly and declared that the younger one was checkmated, drawing Matthew's complaint and collective applause for the feat.

"The boy is good, but not as good as him" an old man informed you, who apparently knew the development of these games very well.

Spencer enjoyed the cheers rather modestly for a moment, but when he caught sight of you watching him from the crowd he went completely pale.

"Hello," he hurried to greet you, getting up from his seat to approach you and causing the fan group to break up "You came."

"Yeah, I've been kind of busy with college," you sincerely apologized, letting him envelop you in a hug that took you by surprise.

"I'm glad to see you"

"But what was all that about, by the way?"

"What was what?"

"Y/N!" said Matty, rushing over to greet you. "Do you guys know each other?"

"Yeah, I would say that" you clearly noticed the young man's intention to ask the story of that, but as soon as he opened his mouth you said something else: "But will you allow me to talk to him for a second? It's adult talk," you joked, trying to tease your little friend, and then walked a few steps away, taking Spencer with you. "Do you want to explain to me how you became a chess master during my three-day absence?"

"I don't... I don't know what you're talking about"

"I saw that! You beat him so fast and Matt is very good. Have you been letting me win all this time?” you asked with a frown. You didn't sound annoyed with him, but rather surprised, and when he pursed his lips and looked at you with those sad little eyes, you knew you were right “You were lying to me! Why did you do that?”

"I didn’t want to make you feel bad"

“I'm an adult, I can handle failure” you argued. A lie, but he didn't have to know that.

“It's just that you… you looked so happy winning and I was happy to spend time with you and I figured if I played like that you'd start to get bored or think I'm a show-off. You didn't want to make a bad impression."

He had been cheating on you, yes, but now that he had explained his reasons, you thought they were really cute. Although you didn't like being treated with that kind of condescension, it would honestly have been foolish to bother you about something like that. They were just friendly games of chess, not a world championship.

"So all this time you were this clever?" you asked and he nodded sheepishly “And you still managed to lose?”

“It's easy once you get the hang of it. If you know all the possible outcomes then you also know where you shouldn't move your pieces."

"I must have looked so stupid all this time"

"No, it's not like that" he hastened to say, while one of his hands went up to your elbow and gently held it "I didn't behave like that because I think you're stupid. I think you're very smart, actually."

"So you were just pretending so we could see each other in the evenings?"

No one had ever done that for you and now you weren't even offended by it anymore, you were, how shall I put it? Touched, perhaps.

"I thought if we didn't play chess there would be no other excuse for it"

A giggle escaped your lips and although at first he thought you were mocking, the truth was the opposite.

 “You don't need to do that for us to be together, I could come to the park and just talk to you. I already told you, I like being with you” you clarified.

You two were silent for a moment and although you were calm Spencer was fiddling with his hands, apparently uncomfortable.

"There's also something else I didn't tell you" you widened your eyes slightly, waiting for him to continue "Actually, I do work for the government, but I work for the FBI in the behavioral analysis unit, that's why sometimes I disappear for so many days or…"

"That's why you know so much murder data" you hastened to say. Suddenly everything clicked together, like pieces in a puzzle "You're not a murderer, you catch murderers!”

“I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I didn't want to scare you."

"Oh, and it was more convenient to let me think you're a psycho," you said sarcastically and only received another amused and sorry look "Any other secrets you want to share with me, Agent Reid?"

“At the moment I only have that. But the afternoon is young, more things can come up with the passing of the hours”

You both laughed at the joke and Matthew's voice calling you snapped you out of your conversation. The teen demanded an explanation as to why his playmate and former babysitter seemed so trusting of each other, which Spencer probably hadn't explained to him yet.

"I just want to ask you one thing"

"And what is?"

“Play a real game with me. No cheating, no tricks"

"Rematch?" he said, as was already your tradition, and you smiled widely.

You walked back to the table taking his arm and after summarizing a few months of history to Matthew the two of you finally got to play. Spencer beat you in less than 5 minutes, but the satisfaction you felt finding out that he was so smart, as well as handsome, was completely worth your loss.

You only managed to beat him after half a year, because from that moment on Spencer was so distracted by your face that it was hard for him to concentrate on the plays. And when you became his girlfriend, all you had to do was steal a few kisses from him to ensure your victory, which, honestly, didn't bother him in the least.

[princesssmars]

something something riding karlach until she sees stars. 18+.

karlach is about ninety percent sure her engine is about to fucking explode. and one hundred of that ninety percent is all your fault. its no secret that you're beautiful, annoyingly perceived as so by pretty much everyone who meets you. she could tell when you first walked up to her from across that branch without fear, later telling her you already knew she wasn't the murderous psychotic devil everyone made her out to be. you listened to her story, defended her against wyll, and she could tell the irregular tick in her chest wasn't just her being nervous about facing probable death at the hands of the blade of frontiers himself.

(although if she had to die at your hands she wouldn't much mind. which is normal. in hindsight, she could also remember her subtly flirting with you. also normal.)

and she's so happy that despite your shared bundle of traumas and saving-the-world problems you could find some respite in each other. she's also really happy that as sweetly as she treats you you also understand how fucking horny she is after ten years of absolutely no contact and then meeting someone who is just as crazy for her as she is for them.

which is how she got to the current moment, her nails digging into your hips as you straddle her hips and rock yourself into her, each subtle glaze of your clit against hers bringing a strangled moan out of her throat.

she's not above begging, especially to you, but everytime she finds the ability to speak without releasing sounds of ecstasy she loses it in seconds. everything she's feeling is too overwhelming in the bestways possible, your hand running through her hair, the other palming at her breasts and bringing out very new and very embarrassing squeaks out of her, your legs squeezed around her waist which just brings her attention and eyesight back to the brief view she can get of your pussy when you pull your hips back before bringing them forward again.

she must have been hyper focused on the space between your legs because your hand is bringing her head back up with a giggle, asking her where she went with a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth, smiling when her eyes close and her lips fold like shes holding herself back, the exact opposite of what you want her to do.

"'m sorry. i just...fuck, soldier, you're killing me here." she gasps, bringing your hand to her chest to feel her newy tuned engine, the heat growing by the second as the blue flames flicker across her skin.

"gods, you really are burning up. we cant stop if you want-" you start to pull your hips off of hers when her claws dig in harder and simultaneously force you down while she thrusts up, loud moans leaving both of you that make you very glad you put a spell over the area inside her tent.

she keeps going, thrusting her cunt into yours while you struggle to keep up, wrappong your arms around her neck when she lies flat on her back and spreads both of your legs further apart, your shared wetness making the glide of your cunts so much easier and all the hotter.

"dont stop, please dont stop. i'll die if you do."

you take a few seconds to catch yourself when her noises take on a more whiny approach, little 'fuck fuck fuck-'s whispered into your ear as she bucks her hips like a madwoman. with a sadistic smile you adjust your body so your nipples can rub over hers the same time you bite into her neck and with a strangled cry she comes, continuing to buck her hips until you fall apart on top of her.

you can feel her breathing slowing down beneath you, the heat of her engine cooling down to a comfortable heat. you start to move your head up to give her a smile and check up before you feel her hips move again, the feeling of your clit being overstimulated nearly making you cry. when you do get to look ather she already has her eyes focused on you, heavy lidded as harsh breaths escape her mouth.

"its starting to look like you'll die if i dont."

"well, i always knew id go out with a bang..."

teehee

[gwynfahr]

Sleeping position

Jordan Li x reader

Synopsis : You can't seem to fall asleep and keep accidentally bugging your lover throughout the night.

1:57am

"Jordan ? You awake ?" encased in your partners arms, in his masc form for the moment, your voice sounding loud despite the fact you were whispering in the night.

His answer came in a groan and a stir, telling you he was listening.

"Did we do the assignment for Brink's class tomorrow ?" your voice sounded anxious, and you clearly forgot you did it earlier with Jordan while watching an episode of Property Brothers.

"You thinking 'bout that in the middle of the night ?" muffled words came from your lovers whose head was located on the crook of your neck. "We did it two hour ago, babe."

"Oh. That's right, I forgot, sorry for waking you up, baby, go back to sleep." You were still wide awake, so you took it on yourself to help him fall back asleep, after all, you didn't have classes early in the morning tomorrow, while he did. Your hand slowly began caressing his hair and he groaned a bit at the soothing motion, grateful.

Ten minutes later, Jordan was back asleep and you still couldn't sleep. You didn't dare move too much as Jordan's body was litteraly flushed against your side and you really didn't want to wake him up, so you just laid in bed, eyes wide open, trying to understand why your brain wouldn't just fall asleep.

3:36am

An hour later, you got a cramp so painful that you jerked up harshly, moving your boyfriend with you. Your whimpers of pain were made to be silent in order to not wake Jordan up more than he already was, but it was too late.

"Babe, you okay ?" He asked, not quite awake, but definitely not half asleep anymore.

"I got a cramp, sorry." You answered, massaging your calf where the cramp hurt like a bitch. "Shit, that hurts..."

Jordan took your leg in his arms and gently massaged the area, figuring that, if he was awake, he must do something to help. Soon enough, the pain faltered to a reasonable amount. "That's better ?"

You nodded. "Yeah, I'm sorry for waking you again, you have classes tomorrow..."

"No it's okay, I was having a nightmare either way, so I should thank you for that."

"Really ? Do you want to talk about it ?" You took his hand, an expression of concern on your face.

"Meh, it's stupid." He said, and then suddenly, Jordan was sat in front of you in her female form.

"Nothing is stupid when it comes to nightmares baby, if you don't want to talk about it, though, it's okay, we can just cuddle until you fall back asleep." you proposed.

"That's clearly implying you won't sleep." Jordan said as you took a more confortable postion, laying back down, face to face on your sides.

"I wasn't sleeping before, but it"s okay, I don't have classes in the morning so, I'll be able to get back some sleep then. You have to wake up early though, baby, you need your beauty sleep."

"Please," Jordan snorted "I don't need sleep to look hot, and I've done worse than a four hours night of sleep. Why weren't you sleeping ?" she asked, hugging you close to her so her head was rested comfortably on your neck, caressing your head. Mechanically, you did the same.

"I think I forgot something, but I can't remember what, and it's bugging me. Ithought it was an assignment or somethng, but it wasn't that. Not a birthday either, not something school related, not an important date for us, not an appointment... I thought about everything and I can't remember." Somehow, explaining it to Jordan made it feel even more stupid, if you forgot something, then you'd remember at some point, no need to lose sleep over it.

Your girlfriend looked deep in thought.

"Maybe it's just your anxiety taking a toll on you. I know it hppens to me when I'm stressed. Just try to forget bout forgetting something and relax." She moved her hands to your back, scratching it softly in a soothing motion, making you giggle a bit at the tickles it created. "I mean, we could also fuck until we're both too tired and lazy to even think about anything, but I feel like you're not really in the mood." She joked a smirk on her face.

You genuinely thougth about it. Jordan was wearing one of your shirt right now, and she looked so hot in it it was criminal. Plus, you really wanted to sleep. However, you felt like the cramp would come back at any too suden moves or contraction of your muscles. "We could make out instead ? You look so hot right now that it's really hard saying no, you need to know."

Soon enough, the both of you were flush against the other, legs entangled, Jordan's hands on your neck as yours were messing with her hair (making it more toussled than it was before). Your mouthes moved in sync, gently, slowly, carefully, you had time, neither of you wanted to sleep anymore. You had to come up for air after some time, but you still found the breath to whisper to Jordan.

"I love you so much, Jordan. So so much."

"I love you too. So much" Was your girlfirend's answer, after a minute of silence where she kissed everywhere she could on your face.

You spent, maybe twenty more minutes making out, Jordan switching forms twice, settling in his male form. Finally, you bth stopped, out of breath. You looked in each other's eyes and Jordan whispered :

"We should try to sleep."

"You're right, it's actually crazy to see you be the responsible one on this relationship, though." You teased before cuddling again with your boyfriend, the forgotten thing plaguing your mind forgotten.

You both fell asleep peacefully ten minutes later.

_________________________________________

4:33 am

Rufus was still calling for help after you hung him on the american flag hamper in the main alley of God U, five hours earlier.

It seems you forgot about this entirely.

[tinyundercover]

pepper & felix

part four

Felix has a lot on his mind.

MASTERPOST word count: 3.2k

“Hey, Felix, are you even listening?”

A hand waved in front of Felix’s face, jerking him back to reality. 

His three friends stared at him, the four of them seated in a booth of a local restaurant. Felix blinked several times, momentarily shoving away the uncomfortable memory of a tiny heartbeat thudding against his finger.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry. I just zoned out for a sec.” He forced himself to laugh, beginning to pick absentmindedly at his food. The cozy setting of the restaurant helped to ease his stress somewhat, but his stomach still continued to squirm.

His friend that had addressed him— Alice— just snickered and said, “Honestly, Felix, you’ve been acting so weird lately.” Her dark eyelashes fluttered in amusement, peering at him from across the booth.

To Felix’s left, Breanna nodded, a finger twirling one of her long dark braids. “Yeah. What’s going on with you?”

As three pairs of eyes stared at him, Felix chewed his lip. “Um…”

He hadn’t told anyone about Pepper, aside from his soulmate, who had seemed to be just as shocked as he was to learn about the existence of tiny men living in the walls. His soulmate was actually the one to suggest that Felix keep his discovery a secret. 

As much as he longed to tell his friends about that crazy incident three days ago, he didn’t want to sound completely insane. Honestly, he was wondering if he had imagined the whole thing.

“He’s probably just worried about The Little Mermaid auditions,” Owen suggested, giving Felix a toothy smile from across the table. “He really wants to be Prince Eric.” He raised his voice in a mocking royal tone, lifting a finger.

(Owen didn’t do theater, unlike Felix, Alice, and Breanna. He just liked hanging out with them.) 

Felix exhaled. “Yeah, that’s exactly it,” he lied, grateful to have an excuse for his distant behavior. “I’m super nervous. I’d really like to get a lead.”

“Same,” Breanna and Alice said in unison. 

“I’ve been practicing, like, every day,” Breanna admitted, resting her chin in her palm. “I think I’m gonna go for Ursula.”

The three others voiced their approval. Alice then began to rant about “that bitch in Music II that just wants to be Ariel so bad” and Felix took the opportunity to zone out again, thinking about a tiny man sprinting across his counter, holding a piece of spinach. 

He frowned suddenly. Had Pepper been stealing the spinach for food? Had Felix interrupted him and forced him to go hungry? Was he okay?

“Felix,” Alice said, turning towards him so quickly that her silky black hair audibly whipped. “You are literally staring at the wall.”

“Oh, uh—“ Felix blinked several times, face going pink. “Sorry. Ugh. Just thinking.”

His friends laughed, and Felix ran his hands anxiously through his blonde hair, trying to ground himself in reality. 

“Hey— what audition song are you using?” Breanna asked, her brown eyes dark and kind as they searched Felix’s face. Felix appreciated her immensely; she never made fun of him and always seemed to notice when he was uneasy.

“I haven’t decided yet,” Felix murmured, glancing at her. “Something from Beauty and the Beast, maybe. I dunno.”

“I’m using Beauty and the Beast, too,” Alice chirped. “My soulmate actually suggested it.”

That caught Felix’s attention. “Wait— you’re talking to your soulmate, now, too?”

Alice’s eyebrows raised, and she sighed dramatically. “Dude, I just said that, like, ten minutes ago. Have you really not been listening this whole time?” Breanna and Owen nodded.

He flushed. “Oh, shit, I’m sorry. Um— when did you start talking? Tell me again.”

Alice, of course, was thrilled to tell the same story twice. She immediately leaned closer, as if she was telling the three of them a secret. “He turned twenty-one yesterday,” she explained, lips twitching into a smile, “and we literally talked all night. He’s so sweet, and smart, and funny. Like, it was love at first sight.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s just how soulmates work,” Owen teased. Alice gently punched him.

“Shut up. Anyways, I just knew he was the one for me the second I heard his voice.”

Felix offered a smile, but her words sent an uncomfortable feeling into his stomach.

“You’ve been talking to your soulmate too— right, Felix?” Alice continued, tilting her head. “How’s that going?”

Ugh. Felix stalled by taking a sip of his water, then cleared his throat. “He seems a little shy,” he admitted. “I… I don’t really understand him yet, I guess.”

“What do you mean?” Breanna asked curiously.

Felix chewed his lip, thinking. “Um… I mean, I like him. He seems nice. But sometimes he’ll just cut our conversations off without any warning. And he never really talks about himself? He just asks me questions, mainly.”

He rested his chin on his hands, dropping his gaze. “We also haven’t really talked in a few days,” he mumbled. “We just… had a weird conversation, and he stopped reaching out.”

“I’ve heard of this happening,” Owen said thoughtfully, running his fingers through his red hair. “It’s actually pretty common to not get along with your soulmate right away. My older brother hated his soulmate for a few months before they actually got to know each other.”

“That’s comforting,” Felix said darkly.

“I’m sure you’ll work things out,” Breanna offered, and Alice nodded supportingly. “It just takes time.”

“Yeah,” Felix agreed, although his mind was starting to drift again. “I’m sure.”

—

Felix felt self-conscious.

His gaze wandered around the walls of his apartment. He was currently sitting on the floor, legs crossed underneath him, and quietly singing along to a song playing from his laptop. This was normal for him, typically. When an audition or a performance was coming around, he spent a lot of his time sitting in his apartment, practicing. 

However— the knowledge that someone could be sitting in the walls, watching him right now, made him incredibly uneasy.

He hadn’t seen any sign of Pepper in the last three days, and he hoped that he hadn’t scared the little guy off permanently. Pepper had seemed absolutely terrified after their encounter.

His stomach twisted in regret, and his voice wobbled. If he could go back in time, he would change how he had treated Pepper in a heartbeat. Thinking of that tear-filled gray gaze staring up at him from beneath a cup just made him want to throw up.

God, I was such an asshole. He closed his eyes, steadying his breathing for a moment. When he held Pepper, he could feel his kicks and punches and struggles, but he had barely even acknowledged it. He had an entire person in his hand and he had completely ignored their fear.

Felix felt sick.

The song ended, but he had stopped singing along a few minutes ago. He leaned back dejectedly against the seat of the couch.

“You sound pretty.”

Felix nearly jumped out of his skin. He sat up straight, immediately freezing.

There, at the base of a bookshelf, was Pepper. Down on the floor, only a few feet away from Felix, Pepper seemed smaller than ever. He wore a tiny blue jacket that somehow seemed baggy on him, his sleeved arms folded in front of his small chest. A pair of tiny gray eyes were locked on Felix.

Felix was immediately hit with an onslaught of emotions; he was relieved to see Pepper again, but his heart was already thudding with guilt, remembering how easily he had trapped such a tiny being against his will. He felt incredibly uncomfortable to see Pepper standing on the floor, his neck craning to look up at Felix, who was also sitting on the floor. 

“I said you sound pretty,” Pepper repeated. Despite his casual demeanor, there was a significant caution in the way he lingered by the wall, as if he was ready to bolt at any moment.

Felix blinked, muscles tense. “Oh– thank you. I, um… I didn’t know you were listening.” He held his breath, as if Pepper might bolt at the drop of a pin. 

Those tiny shoulders shrugged. “I just overheard you, and I figured I’d stop by.” After a moment, he added, “Besides, I wanted to come and thank you.”

Felix did a double take. “Wait, what?”

“For letting me go,” Pepper explained, as if this was a normal Tuesday for him. “And you didn’t kill me or keep me, which is pretty typical for humans. And you didn’t go searching for me afterwards, even though it’s been three days. So… thanks for all that.”

Felix’s heart sank, while an uneasy feeling itched at his skin. Is that really what Pepper had expected from him? Being killed, or tormented? The thought of hurting Pepper any more than he already did made him feel sick to his stomach. He couldn’t explain why, but he needed Pepper to understand that he wasn’t any of those things he had described. 

“Pepper…” His voice was hollow. He leaned forward, heart twisting at the sight of Pepper taking a small step back. “Pepper, you don’t need to thank me. I should be apologizing. You didn’t deserve to be grabbed, or– or trapped like that. I’m sorry. I really, really am.”

The borrower frowned for a moment, inquisitive. Then, quietly, “You just did what any human would do.”

Felix’s stomach turned. “That doesn’t make it okay. I still could have hurt you.”

Pepper remained suspiciously quiet, and Felix’s heart pounded. “Did… Did I hurt you?”

“Just a couple bruises,” Pepper said with a shrug, picking at the hem of his blue jacket. “It wasn’t that bad though. Nothing broken, or anything.”

Fuck.

Felix’s stomach was suddenly filled with ice. “Shit… I’m so fucking sorry, I wasn’t trying to hurt you, I swear.” His blue gaze worriedly scanned Pepper’s small form, as if he could magically see the finger-shaped bruises underneath his clothes. “Can— can I make it up to you, somehow? Please?”

Standing on the floor, Pepper seemed even smaller. He was barely over three inches tall, and Felix had acted so carelessly that he had bruised him. What had he been thinking?

“It’s okay, really,” Pepper said, seeming a little wary. “I get bruised all the time. It’s not new to me.”

“No, no. Can I make you something to eat, maybe? As an apology?”

The small man hesitated, wide gray eyes darting around the room. “You don’t have to do that.” As if on cue, the rumbling of his tiny stomach filled the air. Pepper’s tan face immediately flushed, and Felix tilted his head sympathetically.

“Here… let me go make a quick salad. It’ll take five minutes. Wait here.” Pepper had tried to take a piece of spinach a few days ago, so Felix figured a salad would be a good peace offering for all the trouble he had caused. 

Before Pepper could refuse, Felix swiftly pulled himself to his feet. He immediately felt uneasy, looking down at the three-inch-tall boy from his height of nearly six feet, and took a calculated step back.

Pepper hadn’t moved, but his posture was significantly more rigid than it was before, staring up at the human. Considering the circumstances, Felix was grateful that he hadn’t instantly scurried off into the walls, and he murmured, “I’ll be right back.”

As he crossed the room into the kitchen, he tried to imagine that he was three inches tall, looking up at a man the size of a skyscraper. He shuddered, uneasy at the thought, and decided that Pepper must be a lot braver than he gave him credit for. The small man had actually approached Felix willingly, after all.

He stood aimlessly in the kitchen for a few seconds before rummaging through his fridge. He hadn’t gone grocery shopping in a week, and a lot of his produce was getting old. He’ll have to make do with what he had.

After a minute or two of dicing a cucumber into microscopic pieces, Felix spared a glance to his right, and stiffened.

It took him a moment to register what he was seeing. A small silver hook was latched onto the edge of the counter, and climbing up the thread it was attached to was Pepper. 

The small man was about three quarters of the way up, not even looking in Felix’s direction. The human blinked several times, entranced by Pepper’s quick movements. Pepper had pulled his sleeves up to cover his hands as he climbed, a clever way to avoid ropeburn. 

Deciding not to say anything, Felix turned back to the cutting board in front of him, carefully sectioning off an ounce of diced cucumber. He was halfway through chopping up some spinach when he glanced over again, only to see Pepper seated patiently on the countertop, raveling up his thread into small circles.

Felix gently cleared his throat. “That was impressive.”

Pepper tilted his head in Felix’s direction. It wasn’t any easier to read his expressions, even now that he was higher up. “Thanks.”

“Where’d you get that hook from?” Felix asked politely, absentmindedly searching for some sort of small plate or bowl he could give to a person the size of his finger.

“My sister,” Pepper explained hesitantly. “It’s an old fishing hook, I think. She got it for me when we were kids.”

Felix’s eyebrow raised, and he immediately had a thousand more questions. Pepper had a family, then? What was his childhood like? Did Pepper’s sister live here, too? 

“What’s her name?” Felix finally asked, figuring that was a safe enough question to not frighten him off.

To his surprise, Pepper actually frowned, tightening his tiny grip on his hook. “It’s not really my place to say,” he said finally, voice cautious but firm. “Humans aren’t supposed to know anything about us, even our names.”

You told me your name, Felix wanted to say, but he decided against it. He glanced over as Pepper spoke up again.

“Have you… told anyone about me?” Pepper spoke as if he was trying to be casual, but Felix could sense a tenseness in the small man’s shoulders. The human blinked.

“No… not really,” Felix said softly. “I only told my soulmate. I’m sorry. But to be fair, I don’t think he believed me.”

Pepper’s face was unreadable, so Felix added, “Um, do you know what soulmates are?”

After a long moment, the borrower finally said, “I’ve… heard of them.”

Felix nodded, scraping a blend of diced veggies onto the corner of a napkin. “Humans have a telepathic connection with their soulmate,” he explained. “So I was able to tell my soulmate that I met you. But he acted kind of weird about it, and we haven’t really talked since, so… he probably just thinks I’m crazy now, I guess. You’re in the clear.”

“Huh,” Pepper said. “That’s interesting.”

Felix turned towards Pepper, the napkin laying flat in his hand. As he approached, it was hard not to stare at Pepper, in awe of just how small he was. The counter looked gigantic compared to him. 

He set the napkin down a few inches away, hyper aware that this is the closest he’s been to Pepper since their last encounter. The small man visibly flinched as his hand approached, and Felix desperately wanted him to understand that he would never grab him like that again.

“Here,” Felix offered. “It’s spinach, cucumber, lettuce and some carrots. I didn’t add any dressing, cause I wasn’t sure what you like. And— I’m sorry— I don’t have any silverware that you could use. Um, but I hope you like it.”

Pepper, for the first time, actually sent him a small smile. “Thank you.” He swiftly approached the napkin, peering down at it momentarily with his small hands planted on his hips. After a moment of examination, Pepper picked up a piece of cucumber and tentatively nibbled at it. 

Felix hovered nearby, his mind racing with a thousand questions. He still had no idea what Pepper even was, or why he had been lingering around his apartment. Did he live nearby?

“So…” Felix avoided looking at Pepper, busying himself by scraping the rest of his salad mix into a tupperware container. “I know you said humans aren’t supposed to know about you, but… I can’t lie, I’m really curious about you.”

Gray eyes peered up at him, hesitant. 

Felix met his gaze briefly. “You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to,” he assured. “But… but what exactly are you? Why can’t humans know about you?”

He tried to keep his voice light, respectful. In the corner of his eye, Pepper sat down, crossing his legs underneath him. Felix hoped that meant he was comfortable.

“Uh…” Pepper placed the cucumber piece back down on the napkin. “Well, we try to stay out of sight, for our safety. The world just… isn’t built for us.” He gestured vaguely to the kitchen, and Felix agreed that he looked very out of place on the massive counter. “If humans knew about us, we would probably be seen as— as pests, or something, so that’s why we try not to bother anyone.”

Felix’s eyebrows raised. “That’s messed up,” he said worriedly. “You all live in hiding because of humans? That’s… awful.”

He hated the idea that Pepper had at one point believed that Felix would hurt him, just because he was smaller. Did he still believe that? 

“It’s not so bad,” Pepper reasoned, shrugging. “I mean, I’ve lived like this my whole life. And it’s not like we want to be interacting with humans, anyways. Humans are dangerous, whether they try to be or not.”

Felix stayed quiet, uneasy. Pepper continued hesitantly. “So… thank you, for keeping our secret. It means a lot more than you’d think.”

The human blinked, glancing over at the small man. Earnestly shone behind Pepper’s gray eyes.

“Of course,” Felix assured. “I’ll never tell anyone about you, I promise.”

Pepper opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, but decided against it. Felix glanced over, watching as the small man leaned over the remains of his little salad and began to rip the napkin into a smaller piece.

After a minute, Pepper straightened up, and Felix realized what he had done. The napkin had been tied up into a little bundle, the salad nestled securely inside. “I’ll take this home with me,” Pepper said, genuinely grateful. “Thank you so much.”

He really did seem to have a lot of experience with this kind of life. Crafty, clever, and resourceful. Felix nodded, heart lifting at the positive response from the small man. “Of course. It’s the least I could do.”

Pepper nodded respectfully, beginning to walk towards the toaster, where Felix recalled there was a hidden exit. Then, the small man paused, peering up at Felix again.

“Also— I’m sure your soulmate doesn’t think you’re crazy,” Pepper said. “I think he’d be glad to hear from you again.”

Felix’s eyebrows raised in surprise. He had forgotten he had even mentioned his soulmate to Pepper. “Oh! Well, I’ll… I’ll reach out to him soon.”

“Good. And thanks again, for the salad. Maybe I’ll see you around, Felix.”

Hearing his name on Pepper’s tongue made Felix’s heart jump, not unpleasantly. “Right. No problem. See you around.”

—

Hours later, Pepper sat in his hammock, nibbling on a piece of carrot, thinking of massive hands and blonde hair. He sat up straighter as a voice entered his mind.

“Hey, soulmate, how have you been?”

“Hey, Felix,” Pepper murmured, setting his carrot down. Heart skipping a beat, he pressed his hands to his chest.

“Hey. It’s good to hear from you,” he responded, the corners of his lips twitching into a smile.

____

that awkward moment when ur soulmate turns out to be a literal giant that shouldn't even know u exist ... poor pepper

thanks smmm for reading! :]

[7ndipity]

Mornings with Yoongi

Yoongi x Reader

Summary: just some thoughts and a small blurb about soft morning things with Yoongi

Warnings: none, not proofread

A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this! It's a little short, but it's kind of a similar concept to the Yoongi drabble I'm planning to post tomorrow, so hopefully you like both of them?

Masterlist

Requests are open

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Contrary to what some people might think, despite typically being the first one up and about, Yoongi is not a morning person.

Mornings with you however, made him start to reconsider his opinion a bit.

Naturally, he enjoyed the slower, lazy mornings on the weekends, when neither of you had anywhere else to be, hazey gold light slipping through the curtains as he lay listening to your steady breaths as you slept next to him.

But even on normal days, when you were both in a rush to get ready and out the door, there were little habits and routines that you two had developed that made him come to appreciate those early hours of the morning.

The way you always let your hand drift across his back before you get out of bed.

Him helping you curl/style that one section of hair in the back that never quite lies right for you.

Knowing where each other's things are, but not your own. "Do you know where-?" "You're grey sneakers are in the hall closet." / "Have you seen my earbuds?" "In my bag." "Why are they in your bag?!"

On days when you have to leave earlier than him, he still gets up with you and makes your coffee or breakfast for you.

Slipping little notes in his bag or pocket for him to find later.

Surprisingly clingy in the morning. If he doesn't get a certain amount of affection, he's grumpy the rest of the day.

Trying to be as quiet as possible, you tiptoed around the room, gathering your things for the day, only to turn around to around to see his dark eyes, still heavy lidded with sleep, following your every move.

"Hey." He rasped.

"Hi." You whispered, not wanting to wake him further.

"What time is it?"

"Almost nine."

" 's too early." He grumbled, grabbing for your waist as you walked past in a half-hearted attempt to pull you back to bed.

"Yoongi, I have to get ready for work." You whined.

"You don't have to go in till ten." He pointed out, trying to entreat you with his eyes as he toyed with the edge of your shirt.

You sighed. "Ten minutes."

With a grin, he half dragged you back onto the bed, wrapping his arms around you tightly.

"You big baby." You giggled.

"Shh, I'm sleeping." He mumbled as he tucked your head under his chin, eyes already closed again.

[spif-lol]

Reasons why the simpsons hit and run stream is jerma's best stream

it's ELEVEN HOURS LONG

you get to witness his slow descent into madness as he insists on playing the whole game in one sitting

I can watch it when i replay the game, would recommend makes it way more enjoyable

he spends too much time doing really bad impressions trying to copy voice lines for the game and yelling "HIRE ME IM AVAILABLE"

He decides to confess half an hour in that he knows nothing about the simpsons and has only seen like one or two episodes

this is ten minutes after he references a specific episode, and then proceeds to get told off for 'spoiling' an episode of the simpsons (from like 1995) by chat

Chat also somehow manages to convince him that ten year old boy Bart Simpson's famous catchphrase from everyone's favourite family animated tv show is 'eat ass'

In general it switches between him refusing to believe things people tell him about the game despite being true and falling for obvious lies

he starts the game going 'lol wouldnt it be funny if you could run over simpsons characters' and then jokingly drives towards civillians thinking they'll jump out of the way. they go flying. he is so confused

the dissonance between early and later parts of the stream are palpable. It turns from a cheerful and lighthearted exploration of a funny simpsons game that he refuses to take seriously or accept that it could genuinely make him angry, and transforms into a desperate race against time, his computer and his own hubris as he seeks simply to finish the game so he can sleep. This stream destroys him.

the way the stream highlights are named on his youtube is hilarious. "Jerma will not get angry at the simpson's hit and run" -> "Jerma might get a bit angry at the simpson's hit and run" -> "d'oh"

it's extremely funny how many time he's convinced he's in the last level of the game, only to be wrong. the first time he thinks that is in the first section and hour of the stream

easily his most rewatchable stream (this is gonna cover a lot of dot points)

the amount of tragic irony and foreshadowing in this stream is almost cinematic.

at the very start of the game he complains about the music being too loud and monologues about sounds and over stimulation of game music bothers him, which of course will be very funny in the finale

he also comments a few time at the start about how annoying homer's random voice lines are, and says 'oh god he's gonna repeat that a thousand times before the end of this game'. he's right, and it nearly drives him crazy by the final mission

speaking of the final mission(s), the second time he has to transport the toxic sludge from power plant to the school he like pauses the game and very seriously addresses chat like 'alright tell me right now are the next three levels also me driving the nuclear waste to the school that cant be possible right'. and then just accepting in defeat that that is in fact how this incredibly stupid and difficult children's game finishes

when he first races against the malibu stacy car and gets destroyed he gets mad and says he wishes he could drive that car. then when he gets to drive it in later levels he quickly decides its his favourite and maintains that until the end of the game

on rewatch... you hear him audibly crack open a can that chat demands he prove to them is soft drink and not alcohol like A WHOLE HOUR before The Incident and it's a little like watching a disaster movie where you see the characters laughing and having fun little knowing how they are being hastened towards their own doom... like chat keeps bugging him about it, he keeps making excuses, he keeps sipping the drink. they bring attention to it so much and you listen to it just knowing the pain that is yet to come. dramatic irony at its finest and most heartache inducing

15. ohmyfucking gaaaawd no! no... god... ICANDOITINAJUMP! ..... BART. WHERE IS HE??? BAAART!!!! AAAUUGH

16. actually fr there's a lot of memorable jerma lines in this stream, rewatching it is like watching a jerma funny moment compilation

17. the final couple of levels where he is getting steadily more overwhelmed to the point of ferality, and then he says he has an idea and goes to the sound menu and turns everything off. voice lines. music. sound effects. and then we watch him play the level in complete silence. and it actually helps him focus its really funny

18. the whole tragic sequence where he is in the FINAL LEVEL. he has played it so many times and just missed it by a few seconds. he is tired. he is hungry. he just wants to get off stream and eat a BURGER. he is focussing as hard as he can. he is almost there. he runs over too many things and the police are after him. but its okay. he's doing it! he's gonna make it!!! he gets to the school with time to spare and is sucked up into the end of the game beam. it's over. except then the police get sucked into the beam as well. he gets arrested in the beam. which teleports him and the car out of the beam. WHICH MEANS THE TIMER RUNS OUT AND HE LOSES. so he has to do it all over again. it's actually so so so funny and also something i think i personally wouldn't survive if i was in jerma's position in that moment

19. okay we have to talk about The Incident. bc i already alluded to it and bc like, i couldn't not talk about it. as stated above Jerma cracks open a can so you can hear it and chat immediately accuses him of being an alcoholic. he adamantly insists that it is a soft drink not a beer but they refuse to believe him unless he proves it by showing camera. he's playing on a modded ps2 pc port or whatever of the simpsons so it's a complicated setup and he explains that it would be too hard and also he's shirtless so they will just have to believe without seeing. chat continues to harass him while he goes on to play the game, specifically most of the lisa level. he laughs it off but eventually caves, gets up and get a blanket to cover himself and then alt tabs, holds his can up to the camera and says 'alright you satisfied? that might have just fucked up the game'. so then he tries to tab back into the game and it. crashes. hard. so hard that the game won't actually turn back on. so jerma's cursing and fiddling with the controls and saying its over. then it finally reboots and the game works and he's so relieved and it loads and he realises that he has lost SO MUCH PROGRESS. he's back at the start of the lisa section. this is truly the turning point of the game where it goes from being a fun experience to a nightmare gauntlet

20. on a related note: jerma waiting with bated breath *sound of simpsons game booting back up after refusing to for far too long* jerma: yeeeAAAAAH

21. im watching it right now as i replay, which is why im thinking about it obv. so i will almost certainly have more to add to this

[hanniebanggi]

i love you • j.ww

genre: fluff

not proofread ! this is so rushed, i listened to this song and just decided to write this. it 3 am here btw lol.

stolen stares, stolen glances.

that's what wonwoo and y/n were used to.

or they got used to it.

wonwoo's heart beats so fast as if he is running a thousand miles with every touch of their lips, with every romantic touch, the burning desire for each other.

"won, what are we?"

"what do you mean?"

"you know what i mean." y/n said as they lie down on wonwoo's chest, sitting on a tub full of water and bubbles. both naked and fragile.

"we're friends. you're gyu's sibling. of course we're friends."

y/n sighed as they stood up, leaving the bathtub, covering theirself with a towel and leaving the bathroom.

"really? you're unbelievable."

he wishes. oh, how he wish he could put a name to what the two of you really are.

fuck the bro code.

no.

fuck being a coward.

he loves y/n so much. since he first saw y/n when they moved in front of his home.

he knows he loves y/n. y/n knows that as well. and its just a matter of when he is going to say it.

its been 5 years.

"5 years. five years of sharing kisses, five years of fucking. and dont fucking tell me its all normal because i know its not. im not a kid anymore. say it."

"s-say what?" wonwoo said as he followed y/n.

"be true to youself for once! you've said it to me when you're drunk. why not say it to me now that you're sober?"

tears on the verge of falling, as your hands are clenched on the towel that's covering y/n.

how he hates seeing you cry. but he hates it more when he's the reason of it.

"i-i—"

ten seconds became twenty. thirty. a minute. no words came out after that.

wonwoo stuttered, standing in front of them with head hanging low.

"you know what? nevermind. how long do i have to wait? do i always need to beg for you?"

"im sorry."

y/n hit his chest, all the frustration, and the mutual pining that could've solved with just one word.

"i love you."

.

.

.

y/n said.

"that's all i want to hear from you. but it looks like i'm just wasting my time, no?"

"im sorry. im sorry." wonwoo's voice quivered, as if something pulled his heartstrings and completely broke it.

"and im tired. this is the last time im going to see you for this bullshit. i want you. but not like this! i want your love. i want it all. and i know you wanna give it to me but why can't you?"

only sniffles were heard. and footsteps leaving the house.

wonwoo sat on the bed as y/n left. looking at the piece of jacket that was forgotten.

"i love you. i do. im sorry im such a coward. im sorry. i wanna give you everything. i really do. please... please—"

his voice squeaked as he took the jacket and placed it on his lap.

" —come back."

stolen stares, stolen glances.

that's what wonwoo is used to. or he got used to.

as he clapped along the huge crowd. celebrating your engagement with his brother, chan.

as the crowd's cheer died down. wonwoo reached out for the two.

"congratulations." he said as he hugged the two.

"i love you." wonwoo muttered.

"you finally said it—" chan said after wonwoo removed his embrace.

"— for the first time in my life, i heard my brother say i love you to me,this is crazy.'

"thank you, wonwoo." y/n said.

"no problem." he said with a small smile as he looked at them.

'i love you.'

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - uhhh... so i lied.

genre: angst

[outrunningthedark]

yeh listen it’s performative activism. There been ALOT of it lately.

Whether he was hacked or not. It was posted. They look it and fucking ran with it and spread it like wildfire very quickly.

And this is definitely the first time I’ve seen them care about any type of ableism this loudly. Convenient? Yes. Would they have been this loud if any other actor posted anything like that? No.

Which is why I do not take them seriously.

Be consistent in giving a shit about serious issues. Not when an actor you want gone does them.

Yep, thank you! I'm just speaking for myself here, maybe other disabled fans will agree and maybe they won't, but for ME? LFJ being ableist - if we take a post a face value for the sake of argument - could not be lower on my list of things to care about. He has been on the show for basically ten minutes and we don't know how long he's sticking around. New side character *possibly* being ableist? Alert ABC and Tim, omg!!! /s You know what I do care about? Gavin/Chris being part of the show for SIX YEARS and nobody in that cast says a goddamn word in support of the disabled. I bet they don't even know that Disability Pride Month is a thing. (That's in July, btw, friends. It's not Gay Wrath Month.) The 911 socials get dragged if they don't post enough Eddie and get praised for queer positivity, but it's [crickets] when the entire month of July goes by without anything for the disabled community. And yes, I do side-eye tf out of Ryan and Oliver in particular since they are the two that spend the MOST time with the LONE main disabled actor. And you know what this fandom does when I mention it? "Welllll, maybe they don't feel comfortable posting since it's not their place." I'm sorry, what? That logic damn sure does not apply anytime Oliver is speaking up for the LGBTQ+ community when he is presenting as a cishet or the black community when he is undeniably white. If you're (gen) gonna suddenly act like the new LI being "ableist" is an issue, then I'm gonna need you to use your instagrams and twitters to ask everyone else why they don't give a fuck about us, either. But that would make you look like a bad fan, right? And you need to be liked, right? Especially in front of your faves? Your babies? 🥱

[vypridae]

You seem to be the only one making brokerdoll (thanks for the ship name btw) content, and I wanted to know if you have any more headcannon s, or just general thoughts on the ship. I'm starved for content

okay a. you are so welcome for the ship name i shit you not i spent like ten minutes just being like WHAT DO I CALL THEM because i couldn't figure out a word that would go well with "doll" (as velvette's ship names tend to have in them)

ANYWAY!! HEADCANONS !! i had a post uuuh here (that took me so much longer to find than it should have) of some hcs but here are some more!! (if this took forever to get out i apologize my brain is working at 2 wpm rn and sometimes thinking of hcs is hard)

after they started dating, carmilla starts buying velvette clothes she sees that she thinks velvette will love

spoiler alert: every single piece she buys for vel is exactly her style

i like to imagine carmilla is pleasantly rich, even in comparison to the other overlords, because her weapons and parts and whatnot just sell super well

so she gets so much money to spoil velvette with and she UTILIZES it

velvette's love language i imagine is acts of service or getting gifts (she knows they love her when they get her stuff) and carmilla's is gift giving, which neither of them seemed to realize until velvette literally squealed in joy when carmilla bought her a jewellery set she'd been wanting for FOREVER

also since singing is apparently just a canon thing in the hazbin universe, i cannot for the life of me stop imagining pre-relationship velvette sneaking vox's camera footage from inside carmilla's bunker(?) (of which he got velvette, conveniently, to put there after the overlord meeting) onto her phone just to listen to carmilla sing over and over and over again.

vox and val HAVE walked into her room to see her with her phone sitting on her dresser, watching the same footage of carmilla singing out for love for the 138147985th time

(they don't question it because lets be real they have their obsessions too)

post-relationship, velvette probably posts a bunch of fake online drama about her and carmilla because she thinks its funny to see people being like OMG??? WHAT NO WAY

carmilla is like "cariño why are you posting that we broke up. again." and velvette is like "just for funsies, babe <3"

velvette probably ends up showing carmilla how to use social media because let's be so fr she probably has no clue

velvette loves running her fingers through carmilla's hair and probably has just as much fun actually doing it up as carmilla has with velvette's

painting nails ?? carmilla paints velvette's and paints little white swirl designs over the black polish and velvette draws cute little pink hearts on carmilla's

(yes, they do both get questioned about it)

velvette probably wanted to start a friends w/ benefits (or enemies with benefits) relationship with carmilla but she knew for a fact carmilla would deny INSTANTLY

ok look they aren't married but matching rings ... carmilla wears hers as a necklace and velvette shows off her ring (that she keeps saying is "marriage proposal material" when its not) to literally everyone forever

possessive carmilla? only slightly. she glares daggers and probably throws said daggers at anyone who tries anything to velvette

pre-relationship velvette pining she progressively started sitting closer and closer to carmilla during meetings until she was in the chair next to her like zestial is during ep 3

(she lies out her ass and says it's "so i can annoy her easier, obviously" but she's just gay)

(carmilla starts noticing when velvette starts arriving to meetings earlier rather than later so she can get the seat she wants)

also velvette probably ended up convincing staticmoth to stay away from overlord meetings specifically so they can't tease her for being head over heels in hate-love with carmilla when she's in the same vicinity as her (of which they agree with because its more time for them to do What Ever The Fuck Their Gay Asses Do)

(also vox has cameras set up at the meeting room)

(guess who gets teased to heaven and back by two (2) overlords when she gets home)

(they both know the struggles of a weird obsession with another demon, they know how to poke and prod at velvette until she admits her gayness to them)

they probably ended up convincing her to confess tbh

(which doesnt happen for Several Years, probably)

either that, or carmilla finds a letter on her chair in the meeting room signed "~V" and opens it and it just says "we should be homos" or something stupid like that AJHAKASHJ

firm hc that velvette cannot confess for her fucking life . she doesnt like being vulnerable

lucky for her, carmilla 100% sends back a letter thats signed with "C. Carmine" and says "We can date, if that's what you mean by "being homos"" or something HAHAHASGFJ

[aletterinthenameofsanity]

Art References for Chapter 4 of underneath of your sunrise (show me where your love lies)

(Is this the longest one yet? Maybe. Listen, this was the finale, I went all out.)

Paloma à la Guitare, Françoise Gilot, 1965

"But Monty also thinks about Francoise Gilot, an accomplished painter in her own right. She and Picasso spent ten years together, him cold and distant and cruel, but in the end, she was the one who left him. There was this one friend of the family, Antony Penrose, who said that it was “proof that she never gave up her own spirit.”

And despite two years of letting Tommy color his relationship with Charles and Edwin, Monty’s not going to do that anymore."

Apocalypse Tapestry, Jean Bondol and Nicholas Bataille, 1377-1382

"Monty’s fingers drum against the steering wheel. Just because he logically knows that things are alright- that they are more than alright- he can’t help the slight sting of unease, of doubt, of insecurity that is sewn through him like revelations through the Apocalypse Tapestry."

Arches of the Great Mosque of Córdoba, 785-787

"Because to be touched like this, to be bare beneath their attention, their touch, is like the first time he stood inside of a mosque, looking up at the arches, understanding how geometry could truly be divine."

Persian Ceiling, Dave Chihuly, 2008

"Though, of course, nothing takes Monty’s breath away like the two men highlighted by the glimmers of blue and green and yellow and orange reflecting and refracting off the sculptures above their heads, like walking beneath the kaleidoscope swimming above their heads in an aquarium."

Woman In A Yellow Dress, Max Kurzweil, 1899

"Monty is pushed back against the bed, laid out like a yellow dress draped over a Kurzweil lady, and he goes without protest. He goes with fucking reverence."

Electric Fan (Feel It, Motherfuckers), John S. Boskovich, 1997

"Such an idea would have been staggering a couple of weeks ago. It would have been impossible to believe, like someone trying to argue that modern art is garbage, seriously, have you ever seen Boskovich's Electric Fan (Feel It Motherfuckers) and not felt the absolute agony of the ghosts of your community screaming out at you louder than any painting ever has?"

Madonna painting on caterpillar silk, Chester Cathedral

"He feels as fragile as a gossamer painting, art painted on delicate cobwebs, as he catches his breath."

Radha and Krishna Walk in a Flowering Grove, the Kota Master, c. 1720

"The woman looks rather familiar. In fact, Monty’s pretty sure he’s seen her photo in their apartment, all long dark hair, a striking profile, and warm, familiar brown eyes, as beautiful as Krishna walking in the garden with Radha- if Krishna’s golden earrings gleamed against a pea coat."

At the Moulin Rouge- The Dance, Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec, 1890

"This is what Kala and Edwin walk in on: Charles dipping Monty in the middle of the kitchen, helpless laughter spilling from Monty's lips, like two dancers in a Lautrec painting of the Moulin Rouge."

@deadboy-edwin @icecreambrownies @anonymousbooknerd-universe @ashildrs

@tragedy-machine @just-existing-as-you-do-blog @orpheusetude @mj-irvine-selby

@pappelsiin @itsbitmxdinhere @rexrevri @sweet-like-h0ney-lavender @saffirez

@the-ipre @sunnylemonss @days-light @agentearthling @helltechnicality

@sethlost @catboy-cabin @secretlyafiveheadeddragon @vyther15

@anything-thats-rock-and-roll @queen-of-hobgobblers @every-moment-a-different-sound

@nix-nihili @mellxncollie @tumblerislovetumblerislife @lemurafraidofthunder

@likemmmcookies @wr0temyway0ut @thelakeswillbreakourfall

[trancylovecraft]

(KNY)(MASTERLIST) You, Shibou. I, Kokoro

☆♡☆ AO3 LINK ☆♡☆

YANDERE PLATONIC KOKUSHIBO x SISTER! READER

[F/N], A shrine-maiden that was brutally killed in the Sengoku era reincarnates five hundred years later as the strongest hashira alive.

However, Her older brother turned demon is haunted by her passing every day, Grieving over the loss of his little sister.

When they finally meet each other again, He really can't blame himself for what he does next.

GENRE(s): Tragedy, Slow Burn, Heavy Angst, Dark Fantasy, Classical Driven, Action, Drama.

RECCOMENDATION: While not necessary at all, I highly suggest listening to Achilles, Come down. While reading this fanfic as it a song that helped inspire the story and mood.

Thank you!

☆♡☆CHAPTERS ☆♡☆

1, Chapter One: "Michi-Nii" 2, Chapter Two: "You crazy-ass cosmonaut, Remember your virtue, Redemption lies plainly in truth." 3. Chapter Three: "Achilles, Achilles, Achilles, jump now. You are absent of cause or excuse. So self-indulgent and self-referential, No audience could ever want you" 4. Chapter Four: "Achilles, Achilles, Achilles, come down Won't you get up off, get up off the roof?" 5. Chapter Five: "These explanations are valid. But it should be known if the same day a friend of the desperate hasn't spoken to him with an indifferent tone.." 6. Chapter Six: "Loathe the way they light candles in Rome. But love the sweet air of the votives" 7. Chapter Seven: "The souvenirs of a lost country, the hope of a promised land. This divorce between the woman of her life-" 8. Chapter Eight: "You’re scaring us and all of us, some of us love you Achilles, it’s not much but there’s proof" 9. Chapter Nine: "Feel your breath course frankly below and see life as a worthy opponent" 10. Chapter Ten: "I witness that a lot of people are dying because they consider that life is not worth living." 11. Chapter Eleven: "He changed a lot after that and that this story had-" 12. Chapter Twelve: "Do not waste yourself on this roof" 13. Chapter Thirteen: "You will not be more than a rat in the gutter" 14. Chapter Fourteen: "..So much more than a rat" 15. Chapter Fifteen: "Soldier on, Achilles." 16. Chapter Sixteen: "You crave the applause yet hate the attention, Then miss it" 17. Chapter Seventeen: "But it's cool in a weird way that I wish I could be" 18. Chapter Eighteen: "Where you go, I'm going." 19. Chapter Nineteen: "Your act is a ruse."

(INCOMPLETE, MORE SOON)

-----

SIDE-WORKS

Mitsuri x Reader: You, Tsuri

You, 'Katsu.

Daughter of Ōkami (To Scorch The Sun)

[billskeis]

Can you write georg or gustav with a gender neutral or male partner who’s a biker? Like they wake up and see reader stood next to the bed layering to go on a drive since it’s below freezing outside and he’s just unfazed like “Shatzi, come back to bed it’s too cold outside,”

ᡣ𐭩 georg w motorcycler s/o

the jingling of keys can be heard from near or across the room. as georg fidgets within his bed, he opens his eyes to curiously figure out what the sound was. adjusting to the darkness, georg blinked his way through,

to find his partner about to leave their bedroom door, leather jacket on and a motor cycle helmet grasped under their arm.

“baby..? where are you going so late in the night..?” you turn around, gaze softening to see your boyfriend so confit laying in your bed. “‘m gonna go warm up the motorcycle, i brought you your helmet see?”

you use both your hands to proudly hold out georg’s motorcycle helmet that you bought him a couple months ago. they were matching with one another.

it was actually georg’s idea to buy the matching helmets.

you thought it was pretty corny, but you couldn’t help but feel defeated once he started whining and giving you the silent treatment for it during your trip to the mall.

georg stuffs his face into the pillow and groans softly, “schatz, not tonight it’s freezing.. i don’t even know how you got out of the bed not cold,” “cmon pleeeeease georg? it’ll be nice!” “no, baby, come back to bed now.”

you’re pretty stubborn when it comes to your motorcycle.

it’s your way or the highway, literally. but your boyfriend just manages to remain nonchalant about your yearning to get on those wheels and ride the night away.

so, you did what you had to do.

you began making your way out the door of your bedroom. you believed that if georg saw that you had already warmed up the motorcycle he’d just have to give in to you! right?

making your way down the stairs you throw your keys onto the counter near the front door and begin to slip on your boots. now lacing them up you finish each foot off by double knotting a bow and kick your heels to ensure a good fit.

that is, until an uncomfortable sensation can be felt.

“fuck, gotta pee..” you ushered yourself into the downstairs bathroom trying to not walk too much on your feet, tip toeing to not get the floors dirty as you mopped them just last week.

closing the door, you take off your jacket, because for some reason it restricts you from having to pee and place it on the bathroom counter in front of you. you begin to relieve your stress, the uncomfortable pressure already subsiding. finishing off, you pull your pants back up and wash your hands.

smirking into the mirror, you know that georg is gonna be downstairs waiting for you all ready to leave.

shutting the door behind you, your body is immediately met with another that swiftly pulls you off your feet, “g-georg!? what’re you doing—let me down!!”

struggling within his grip, your flailing and fighting back is to no avail. he’s stronger than you, and way more powerful. he only needs one arm to hold you while the latter begins to unlace your shoes, throwing them off into the corner where your front door ‘welcome’ mat lies.

“goin’ back to bed, had nuff’ of you not listening..” he stomps his way up the stairs as you just hang over his shoulder. obviously there’s no point in fighting back, plus, you can feel the thickness of his biceps holding the behind of your leg along with the shoulder that dug into your stomach.

as much as it hurt and it might leave a mark, it was hot.

now entering the bedroom you were just in from ten minutes ago, georg softly and gently lays you on the bed. you thought that he was stupid for this as you attempted to escape just to be met with his body colliding on you once more “georg no—ow!”

body pressed onto yours, georg was holding onto you with a tight grip, arms around your body as he held you from behind. using one arm, he pulls the covers over the both of your bodies, and nuzzles his face into the crane of your neck.

“don’t fight me now baby.. just go to sleep,” you fidget to get into a more comfortable position, smothering your body even more close to georg’s than it already possible could be.

“fine, but tomorrow night we’re going out. cold or not.”

“yeayea whatever you say sexy just please go to bed.”

“love youuuuu,”

“okay baby i love you more just close your eyes now..”

you didn’t want to admit (because of your stubbornness) but it was cold. extremely, at that. but you never like to take no for an answer so of course your pride and ego got the best of you and thus why you were so adamant on riding that damn motorcycle you love so much.

but now you were warm. warm with the embrace of your lovely boyfriend. couldn’t have had it any other way.

you shift endlessly in the bed, uncomfortable. you felt bad but in the heat of the moment you were unable to do such a task. you feel coldness hit your neck at the removal of georg’s face to now look at yours.

“what’s wrong y/n?” you bit your lip to try and hide your shame. you were kind of embarrassed but georg wasn’t one to just take silence as an answer. shifting your gaze, you look around the room to then be met with the eye contact from georg that really never left. you breathe in and out, he’s your boyfriend for god’s sake just ask him, you thought.

“can i at least take my pants off?”