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carlthecloaked · 3 days ago

Text

Wrong Number, Right Person

tried writing something after a while :3| 1.3k words | no cw |

Steve was pissed.

This date was not working out. At all.

He thought he was going out with this sweet guy from California. At least, that’s what his Tinder profile had made it seem like. But clearly, he had been very wrong.

Where would he even start?

First of all, the guy wouldn’t shut up about his ex.

Like, she sounded great and all, but maybe don’t talk about her the entire time we’re on a date?

Secondly, he wasn’t even listening to what Steve was saying. Half the time, he was scrolling through Instagram, looking at his ex's profile. Laughing at whatever post he was looking at, or he was texting someone else.

Third—and perhaps the worst part—the guy had the personality of a wet sock. Zero energy. No conversation skills. Just dull. Clearly not the charming, funny guy he’d seemed to be over text.

Steve sighed internally. Guess that was his fault for believing his Tinder profile was real.

And then, as if the date wasn’t already bad enough—

“So, are we going to your place or mine? "

Steve barely stopped himself from gaping. He forced a polite smile instead, setting down his drink.

“Yeah, I don’t think this is working out,” he said smoothly, placing his half of the bill on the table. “I have to go.”

The guy blinked, as if he hadn’t just bombed the entire date.

“But wait—”

Steve walked fast out of the cafe, he had to get out of there quickly.

“Ugh, that was the worst. I have to go tell Robin.”

While walking to the subway, he winced as he opened his backup phone. It wasn't as good as his currently broken phone. He totally didn't drop it in the toilet. Nope, that never happened.

He sighed, scrolling through his messages. He still hadn’t updated his contacts, so every number looked unfamiliar. Normally, he’d recognize Robin’s name instantly, but now? It was just random numbers.

He just figured he would text the most recent number, It'll probably be fine.

Steve: WORST date ever. like worst ever. robs i swear to god i wish i could turn back time and never swiped right on him at all. if you ever see me texting him again, throw a microwave at me

Unknown Number: any personal preference or do i just chuck it at you

Steve: chuck it

Steve: robbie i swear it was SO bad

Unknown Number: oh i didn't realize you'd actually think i was your friend

Unknown Number: uh yeah so this is not robbie

Oh. Steve blinked at his phone.

Huh.

That was… unexpected. But not bad, necessarily. Just—Huh.

He stared at the message for a second longer before shaking his head, exhaling through his nose. This was fine. Totally fine.

Steve: oh god

Steve: i'm so sorry wrong number

Unknown Number: it's fine lol

Unknown Number: but how bad was it though, like on a scale of “awkward as hell” to “can the ground swallow me whole?”

Steve hesitated.

He shouldn’t keep talking. He should just apologize again and move on.

But… what else was he doing today?

Steve: definitely “can the ground swallow me whole?” territory

Unknown Number: okay now i'm definitely invested. spill the tea

Steve: dude. he kept on going on and on about his ex, i swear it went on for 30 minutes. THIRTY. MINUTES.

Unknown Number: 🚩🚩🚩 IMMEDIATE red flag, redder than the color red

Steve: RIGHT??? and when he finally stopped he just kept scrolling on his phone

Steve: he was stalking her insta too 😭

Unknown Number: are you fr???

Steve: i wish i was lying but nope

Steve: then when i tried talking about literally anything else other than his ex he’d just respond with “yeah” or “whatever”

Unknown Number: what does that even mean??????

Steve: i have literally no idea

Steve: he even had the NERVE to ask if we would go to his place or mine

Unknown Number: the AUDACITY. the sheer unhinged delusion. did he think he was charming?????

Steve: LMAO stop i can't💀

Unknown Number: i bet he thought you 'd swoon bat your eyelashes and say “oh my god, yes! let's go to another place where you can pretend i'm not there!”

Steve lips curled at the stranger’s response before replying back

Steve: honestly i wouldn't be surprised if he thought that i should be grateful for his presence

Unknown Number: i can't believe you suffered through that

Unknown Number: no wait, you didn't suffer. you endured and you survived. for that you deserve an award. a dramatic opera performance

Steve: i hate how funny you are

Steve grins at his phone.

Unknown Number: you can repay me by continued conversation ;)

Steve: okay but you have to say who you are though

Steve: please don't tell me this is my professor🙏

Unknown Number: lol no definitely not your professor

Unknown Number: but i kinda want to keep it secret now, adds to my mysterious aura

Steve: no hints? :(

Unknown Number: i have hair

Steve: wow that really narrows it down. i totally know who you are.

Unknown Number: good luck finding it out ;)

Steve tilted his head, amused.

There was a pause.

Steve stared at his phone for a second, drumming his fingers against the back of it. He wasn’t sure why, but something about this felt… different. Not bad, just—unexpected.

He should probably just let it go. It wasn’t like it mattered who this guy was, right?

Still.

Steve: so are you gonna give me a real hint or do i just have to suffer

Unknown Number: hmm. suffer sounds fun

Steve let out a small, incredulous laugh, shaking his head. Great. Just his luck to end up texting someone who enjoyed messing with him.

And, okay. Maybe he didn’t mind that much.

The subway car jolted slightly as it began to slow, Steve barely looked up from his phone, used to the way the train moved as it went into the station. The train came to a stop, the doors opening with a mechanical chime, letting in the sound of city noise and passengers.

He stood up getting out and walking to his and Robin’s apartment nearby, glancing at his phone occasionally to check if the stranger texted again.

Steve barely had the door open before Robin’s voice rang out from the couch.

“Finally! What took you so long? Did the date go well?”

Steve groaned, kicking off his shoes and collapsing onto the couch next to her.

“You have no idea. I swear to God, worst date ever.”

Robin gasped dramatically, “Worse than the girl who ordered an expensive meal and made you pay?”

“Way worse”

“Way worse than the one who left you at the bar for three hours?”

“Robin.”

“Okay, okay tell me everything.”

Steve launched into the whole story, how the guy wouldn’t stop talking about his ex, stalking his ex’s instagram, the dry-ass responses and the sheer audacity of asking if they were going to his place or their shared apartment.

“That’s tragic Steve, how are you so unlucky at this?”

“I have no idea man, I guess I just attract weird people.”

“Why didn’t you text me?”

Steve suddenly sat up, remembering. “Oh, speaking of.”

Robin narrowed her eyes.

“So, uh I may or may not have accidentally texted a stranger about it.”

Robin grinned in amusement. “What?”

“I thought it was you!” Steve said defensively. “I haven’t updated my contacts on this phone yet, and I just picked the most recent number in the list.”

Robin stared. “Wait. Hold on. You had a whole conversation with a stranger instead of asking who they were like a normal person?”

Steve shrugged. “They were funny.”

Robin gasped again, dramatically. “Oh my god. You like them.”

“What? No. I dont even know who they are!”

“But you want to”

Steve opened his mouth to reply, then closed it.

Robin grinned, throwing a pillow at him. “You absolute idiot. We’re figuring this out right now.

Steve caught the pillow. “Fine. But if this turns into some embarrassing rom-com nonsense I’m blaming you.”

“Oh it’s already a rom-com, Stevie. You just don’t know it yet.”

Steve sighed, but smiled anyway.

Maybe he did want to know.

#steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #modern au #my fic #next chapter will be eddies pov hehe #college au? technically #its not the focus but they are in college i guess

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dcxdpdabbles · 11 hours ago

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I love your Freelance Inventor Au so much! (And, like, all your other work,, lol) I can't help imagining Danny finding out about the Batfam and turning to Bruce like, "You let our kids be vigilantes?!" Meanwhile Bruce is stuck on the fact that Danny called them "Our" kids. Or the reveal the other way, with Bruce finding out about Phantom first? He'd freak out- clearly he doesn't know Danny as well as he thought he did. And he can't believe Danny never told him! Meanwhile, Danny thought he mentioned the Phantom thing ages ago and that Bruce just doesn't care.

Since Jazz put the idea in his head, Danny has been unable to think of anything else. The idea that he might be in love with Bruce Wayne and had been for so many years but didn't notice because he assumed everyone felt that it was for that one friend.

It was there whenever he was drafting new blueprints, when he traveled across the world looking for inspiration and investors, when he settled into bed for a good night's rest, and most of all, when he finished his weekly phone call with Bruce.

"Get some rest," Bruce's warm, smooth voice says over the speakers. "I'll talk to you soon. Goodnight, Danny."

"Goodnight," he responds softly. He has a request to stay on the line on the tip of his tongue, but with the time difference, he knows it's not a good idea. And have a good day, Bruce."

The call ended with a click, but he couldn't help but feel their goodbye needed something.

I love you.

That was it. That's what was missing. But did he dare? Could he? Was he confusing love for something it wasn't? Was Bruce even interested?

Danny places his phone on his chest, staring at the ceiling of the latest hotel he booked, wondering if Bruce is leaving for lunch with the kids. He said they were celebrating Tim's new clothesline and wished he was there to cheer the boy and his team on.

Danny is in Toykyo today, presenting his new hologram keyboards to a big company.

Of course, they were the second company allowed the selling rights. Wayne Tech was the first, and Danny kept the production and creation rights. It was one of Danny's most ingenious inventions, if he did say so himself, but the look on Bruce's face when he revealed it to him was far more exhilarating than creating the keyboard or gaining the fat paycheck.

Fenton's Ghost Touch was a set of two rings with a hologram keyboard inside. When someone needed to type, they would spin the rings and double-tab the inner lining, connecting to devices using the Bluetooth function.

A visible hologram would pop up underneath their fingers, or if they wanted (and were good enough typers), they could move their fingers in the air without it, which would still allow them to type.

Danny had chosen to release the line in black internationally with Toyko, but Wayne Tech would release an exclusive color line. The rings were of the same design, all using slick silver bands but with different colors as the activation inner rings and some elegant carvings, unlike the international releases, which were just one solid color.

Fenton's Ghost Touch would come in seven colors: blue, red, pink, green, purple, white, and yellow.

Danny had purposely designed them using each of the Wayne kids' favorite colors and sent them all a set with their corresponding colors. The morning they arrived, he got a picture of them showing off their new rings, smiling widely at the camera from Bruce.

He saved the photo as his laptop background. His phone background already had a picture of him and the Waynes at Thanksgiving. They had crowed around, holding their wreaths with Bruce and Danny in the center.

Danny had been facing the camera, beaming in pride at the kids' work. Bruce was half-turning, his gaze stuck on Danny's face with a strange, fond, soft smile, the kind he rarely saw Bruce give anyone else.

It made him hope. Oh, how he hoped, but it also scared him. What if this wasn't love? Danny has never been in love before, has never fallen to the urges that others describe, and had been so comfortable convincing his asexuality meant he would never have to be the kind of person staying up long into the night overthinking every interaction with another person.

Yet here he was, seeing Bruce in a whole new light and discovering how different everything was because of it. But at the same time, how nothing had changed. He spoke to Dani about this, but his clone-turned-sister had only shrugged.

"You raised kids with the man." She laughed. Dani wasn't like Danny, and although she was more informed than their parents, she had difficulty wrapping her head around not having those feelings. "I think it's past the point of having a crush on him. I think you should go for it. Make it official."

Danny reaches up, rubbing at his eyes. It was midnight, and he had a meeting with another with the Japanese board again at eight. He really needed to rest and be on top of his wits so that he and his lawyer could ensure the contact was in his best interest.

He clicks open his gallery on his phone instead of swiping through photos of Bruce and feeling his heart leap nearly out of his chest. He misses the man.

Since Jazz's conversation, Danny has been practically avoiding him. This is due to his being hyper-aware of himself and Bruce: the way Bruce laughed, the dip in his voice whenever the British accent he picked up from Alfred popped in, the slight facial expressions he made when confused about emotions, the shift from playful to professional in work settings, and most of all, the attention he always bestowed onto Danny.

How the world just seemed brighter whenever he was with the man.

Bruce was his sun, and Danny was nothing more than a flower seeking him out. It made the Halfa want to hide in a hole but dance around in public all at once, and he didn't know why.

He finds a video, tapping the play button before thinking further of it, and melts when the first sound he hears is Bruce's laughter. It's quickly followed by the loud noise of the Waynes' Children. It was taken at the last Wayne game night—at the time, Danny had been in England with Dani.

Tim recorded Damian standing proudly over a map covered in white trains, arms spread into a T position, and Duke screaming accusations of cheating. After Alfred banned Monopoly in the Manor, the game Ticket to Ride quickly took over as the new worst enemy creator.

Dick was in the background sobbing into his hands as Jason tried to confront him. Steph and Cass were each leaning on Bruce's two shoulders, laughing as hard as their father, and Alfred was out of frame but not out of hearing, so when he stated, "Master Dick, how could have gone in the wrong direction? It's the map of the USA, it hasn't change in years!"

"He has a concussion, Alfrie!" Jason protested hotly. "Leave him alone!"

"YOU CHEATED!" Duke raged as Damian continued his pose with the most serious expression he'd seen on the child. It made his heart swell to see Damian copying him.

Danny struck the same pose whenever he beat his sisters at a game, even at his advanced age. Once an annoying brother, always an annoying brother.

The video ends with Tim flipping the camera. His broad grin covered the whole screen as he shouted, "Love you, Dad! Miss you! Can't wait to see you!"

Danny turns to his side, feeling his heart flutter more as the word plays repeatedly in his head. A few years ago, the Wayne Kids—excluding Damian, who was polite to the point it hurt—switched from Danny to Dad when referring to him.

Bruce hadn't made a big deal about it even though they called him Dad. Would that mean the man was happy his kids saw him as a second father figure? Did it mean the man thought of him as....a husband?

Danny groans, burying his face into the cool sheets of his futon, begging his mind to stop for a few seconds so he can rest. After this deal goes through, Danny is going to face the music.

He would go to Gotham and figure out a way to tell Bruce how he felt. He just hopes he has it figured out by then. Danny has an idea, but explaining the mess in his head into words is going to be much harder than anything he's ever done.

Not to mention Phantom. That was a can of worms he hadn't ever touched in Wayne's presence. What was Bruce's stance on ghosts anyway?

Should he practice what he would say about the topic? Turning onto his back, Danny holds up his phone, clicking the screen so the lock screen image of a grinning Bruce appears.

It was from the surprise vacation Danny rented out the hut next to the ones the kids sent Bruce to. It had been taken at sunset, the soft orange and purples of the sky framing Bruce's grin and dancing on his wind-blown hair. It had been a spur-of-the-moment walk around the beach, but from Danny's perspective down below and Bruce climbing back up to his hunt, it had almost appeared like Bruce was descending from the heavens.

Danny had used every film skill he had ever heard Dani speak about to capture the beautiful sight.

It is the best picture he's ever taken.

"I love you," the words leave his mouth in surprise, even though he had meant to talk about ghosts. But when they are spoken, he ducks into ice water and realizes they are true.

He sits up, using both hands to hold the phone in front of him, hoping that somehow, in some unrealistic dream, the words will carry across the world, and Bruce will hear them. Maybe even feel them, too. "I love you, I think I do. Do you love me too?"

The screen goes dark, and Danny sighs. Ten years. Will he really risk ten years of friendship over these little feelings?

Yeah. He thinks he will.

#dcxdpdabbles #dcxdp crossover #Freelance Inventor #Part 8 #Danny comes to terms with his feelings #Fluff #Pinning #spirit halloween ship #The slow burn is picking up heat #Have some family moments

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gold-onthe-inside · 2 days ago

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gala

who? spencer reid (season 7) x fem!reader summary: when you need a date for a gala in DC, there's only one person you're willing to call on, and spencer has to make it known how hard it is to restrain himself around you, especially in that dress. word count: 2.4k content warnings: munch!spencer, spencer calls r ma'am and sweetheart, r wears a red silk dress, no use of y/n, 18+ minors dni a/n: can you tell i stole the gradient idea from @mggslover? thank you for enabling me tonight bby <3 check out more mayor!reader here

You hadn’t meant to call him — debating it in business class with your entourage settled in around you. The press secretary insists that it’s bad PR to go to the gala alone, held in honour of the city officials of California after some of the worst wildfires you’ve seen in history. The thought makes you uncomfortable, especially with the kinds of dresses that have been packed for you.

Still, you think, at least I’m not giving a speech. Even if the realisation that you wouldn’t be getting any airtime at the gala had made the PR team livid. And having passed the midpoint of your second term made it worse, knowing that the next target was a governorship. As much as it made your skin crawl, the team had pulled together an elaborate set-up in the wake of the fires, propping you up to give one of the best speeches of your career, rallying first responders and the neighbourhood.

The handwritten letters had been your idea, personally writing to grieving members of your community, and the people had taken to social media, making you one of the highest rated city officials in the state over your response to the fires. The fact that public rating hadn’t been the point went over everyone’s heads.

Part of you is tired of this — of the constant hovering, checking your angles, turning you into the perfect doll. It’s a halter-top dress, red silk hugging your waist, and matching heels that are gonna be murder at the end of the evening, hair swept into a chic bun to show off pearl earrings. Perfectly put-together for the camera.

You’re going over the itinerary of the evening when he knocks on your door, already ajar, and stepped inside, closing it behind him, wearing a tuxedo, the bow-tie slightly wonky — something that would give your press secretary a heart attack. His lips parted a little at the sight of you, hazel eyes tracing the outline of your dress, and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, mustering the courage to meet your eyes. “Hi,” he said meekly at your apologetic smile.

“Hey,” you murmured, slightly out of breath already. The last time you’d seen him had been in your car, dropping him off at the airfield, leaving you with a lingering kiss that had you staring into space for a minute before you were sober enough to drive back. “I’m sorry for dragging you into this,” you started, having practiced what you were gonna say in the bathroom mirror.

“I’m glad you called,” he assured you, feet finally moving towards you.

“I didn’t want it to be like this,” you murmured. “Some public spectacle because ratings say I look better on someone’s arm—”

“You look amazing,” he rushed to cut you off, hand twitching with the effort of not touching you. And just like that, three words rendered you speechless, colour rising to your cheeks that had nothing to do with the make-up artist’s blush.

“Thank you,” you managed, taking an infinitesmally small step to correct his tie. His eyes never leave you, nor do you want them to, as you smoothed down the lapels of his tux.

“I really want to kiss you right now,” he confessed, it taking every ounce of effort and willpower not to just reach out and touch you.

“I’m pretty sure Maria would kill you if you did,” you murmured, looking up at him, the corner of your lip curling up in a smile.

“It’d be worth it,” he whispered, unable to help himself as he slid his hand over your waist, leaning in closer, watching your pretty eyes close with his proximity.

“We really shouldn’t,” you whispered back, and you’re gonna need a chaperone at this point to make sure there’s at least a foot between you both.

“What if I can make it so noone needs to know?” Spencer asked, nose nudging yours a smile playing on his lips. His grip was growing firmer, more confident, guiding you to the nearest surface, but loose and slow enough for you to stop him if you wanted to, and the next thing you know, you’re pressed against the writing desk. His hand cupped one side of your neck, nose trailing over your cheek as his lips found purchase on the other side, just under your ear, the faintest swipe of his tongue electrifying your skin. Your head hung limply, betraying your logic as he overwhelmed you completely. “Need to hear a yes, sweetheart,” he whispered, a slight rasp to his voice.

“Y-Yes,” you whispered and his lips drifted lower, careful to keep you as pristine as your team had left you. His hands dragged under the hem of your dress, sliding over the outside of your thighs before gently lifting you up, setting you on the desk, simultaneously using his foot to hook around the chair to bring it closer so he can sit between your knees, looking up at you.

“Christ, I missed you so much,” he whispered, dragging his callused finger tips over your thighs. “Want to kiss you so badly.” He's so careful, so gentle, but you can tell he's holding back, his breaths turning just a little ragged and his grip becoming a little possessive. Spencer's so close you can feel the warmth radiating from him, the hand on your thigh sliding up, just under the silk. Your heart's pounding so hard it's a wonder he can't feel it, and there isn't a damn thing you can do but feel as his nose brushes over your jaw.

The room is eerily silent apart from your heavy breaths, and he's looking up at you with a heady mix of desire and reverence, before his mouth drags over the inside of your knee. His other hand slides over your hip, gripping you tight, as he slowly, so slowly, plants warm, wet kisses along the soft skin of your inner thigh.

"Fuck," you breathed out, elongating the word, gripping the edge of the table to hold onto some semblance of cognitive function. But one look at Spencer between your thighs, marking up soft skin, robs you of any of that.

He can feel the heat radiating from you as his nose trails over the sensitive skin, and his tongue darts out for a split second, before his mouth is back, leaving a trail of bruises along your trembling thighs.

"Sweetheart," he whispered, and even he's surprised at the amount of want in his voice. "You're killing me here."

You want to laugh, but it's strangled in your throat. "I'm killing you?" you scoffed in quiet disbelief.

"You should see yourself right now," he murmured, glancing up at you beneath his eyelashes, but the view is too tempting, and he couldn't help but kiss his way up past your knee, hands cupping your calves. "You're so close to me, and I can't even kiss you because of that stupid, stupid makeup. I'd kiss you so hard, sweetheart. You've no idea," he voiced, punctuating random syllables with open-mouthed kisses.

Your heart jumped at the rasp in his voice, the sheer extent of his desire, and you believe him, so much that you have to shift uncomfortably, clearly needing him to relieve you. He noticed the restless movement, the way the muscles in your thighs tensed, and his mouth curled up in a faint smirk.

"You want something, sweetheart?" he murmured, his thumb stroking the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh, so close to where you wanted him. He was trying to keep his voice steady, his composure, although it was quickly crumbling.

"You're being cruel," you whispered.

He chuckled, the sound low and rasped against your skin, his thumb rubbing gentle circles against your heated skin. He was close, so close, to where you needed him, but he was holding back, drawing it out. "Me? Cruel?" he echoed, his breath ghosted over your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. "You're the one sitting up there, all dolled up for the cameras, driving me insane."

"Hardly on purpose!" Your protest comes out as a childish whine. "I'm just trying to do my job."

Spencer hummed, hands reaching your hips and pulling you close to the edge of the desk. “May I, ma’am?” he asked, smirking from below you, fingers already tracing the edge of your panties and you screwed up your lips, trying not to smile at the title as you nodded, tucking strands of hair behind your ear. Your hips complied to his pull, red lace coming down to your ankles, then disappearing into his pocket.

Before you can come up with something smart to say, his head dipped under the red silk, and Christ, his tongue has your knuckles whiten, fingers digging into the desk. It’s a sharp flick that has you mewling already. The tip of his tongue swirls around your clit so lightly, it’s all you can do not to gasp and push his face closer. Your hips twitch and squirm, already so sensitive from his lightest touch, only his hands keep you still with a firmness he never had before.

“Spencer,” is all you manage to breathe out, and his voice is too muffled. You never get to ask him to repeat, the flat of his tongue parting your folds, running over your centre and wrapped his lips around your clit like he was making out with your cunt. It was all you could do to stop yourself from pulling at his hair, breathy gasps turning into soft whines as he played around with a rhythm, finding one that worked for you, and going crazy with it.

Your thighs threatened to close in on him, only for firm, vein-riddled hands to push them wide. Your grip on the table gives out as he coaxes you to your peak, landing on your elbows with a quiet thud, a fuzzy sting that rivals the fuzziness in your head. Your hips attempt to jerk closer to him, and his arms have to wrap around your thighs to keep you still, making your frustration so much worse, your sheer helplessness to his onslaught making you needier. “Please,” you gasped, needing release. How did his jaw not hurt at this point?

His lips wrapped around your clit, nose rubbing against it, tongue sliding lower, lapping against your entrance. You’re almost sobbing when he eases a finger into your cunt, curling deep, crooking and finding a slow but hard rhythm that has you clenching around him — almost desperate. You’re barely holding on, legs shaking around him. “Please, Spence, I’m–“ but you can’t form any more words, so close, just teetering at the edge, his fingers still going and his mouth still going and it’s just too much. “Please, please,” you whine out, desperate for relief, trying so hard not to pull on his hair.

His fingers curled, seeking that one spot, the one that had you trembling against him. Your voice rose in pitch, nearly cracking, words turning back into mewls and moans. Your hips jerked desperately, seeking more that he was just barely keeping from you, and your eyes fluttered shut, the heat in your core growing impossibly tight, threatening to spill over. He didn't show any signs of letting up, the relentless rhythm he had set up driving you to the brink. "Please, Spence, I’m so close," you begged, and he could hear the tension in your voice, the desperation, the need that mirrored his own as his tongue flicking over your clit with perfect pressure.

You could feel yourself trembling on the edge of your orgasm, and he knew exactly what you needed. "Please," you gasped again, and he pressed against that spot in response, feeling your body tense up even more. He could feel your walls fluttering around his fingers, before relaxing entirely, your body going boneless as relief warms your entire body.

Spencer takes a breath before lapping your cunt clean, at a slow and leisured pace, sliding his fingers out. Silk fell away from his face, draping your lap as he pulled away, watching you catch your breath. The air was heavy with the smell of arousal, the taste of you still on his lips and the fingers that he licked clean. Your breathing slowly returned to normal, the tension fading from your body. He couldn't help but admire the sight of you, completely undone, your figure draped in red silk, the usually composed and articulate city official now utterly wrecked. It was a sight he could easily get used to.

“You… I don’t— how are you so good at that?” you asked, breathlessly, looking at him in awe as he stood between your thighs.

“With a lot of self-restraint,” he admitted, making you huff, shaking your head. You moved your hands to straighten his bow-tie, well aware of your proximity to him, your hands smoothing down the lapels of his tuxedo, and the door to your room opened up.

“Car’s waiting for you downstairs, Madam Mayor,” your assistant reported, her clear gaze not missing the proximity between you and Spencer and barely restraining a smirk. “Dr Reid,” she added in acknowledgement, Spencer raising a hand to greet her with a sheepish smile and then the door closes, leaving you both alone for a moment.

You let out a sigh, slipping off the table, smoothing down your dress as Spencer watched you. His gaze never left you as you composed yourself, straightening your dress and fixing your hair, transforming back into the poised city official in a matter off seconds. The transition was almost seamless, but he couldn't help noticing the slight redness on your cheeks, the remnants of your earlier activities.

Spencer's heart, after spending the last few moments going at a pace that would've concerned a cardiologist, finally began to settle. He had been reckless, and perhaps a little selfish. But as he watched you, he couldn't bring himself to regret a thing. “This is gonna be a long night,” you murmured under your breath, taking his arm. He couldn’t help but agree.

comments and reblogs always appreciated xoxo

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #my fics #spencer reid x mayor!reader #mayor!reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine

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adara-of-the-flame · 1 day ago

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the-name-is-hoggle

Hoggle cringes slightly as the red head actually calls him a "dead cave”. Wow. No matter how far he was from his childhood home, the more things did not change.

This feeling increased as the other dwarves approached, practically closing in around him and the somewhat clueless Mars - oft. He suddenly remembered she would definitely be super lost about what was going on - and made their opinions known. At least it looked like more were trying for the common tongue instead of Khudzul? Though that arguably just meant that Mars could be dragged into the discussion as well.

“Really, it’s nothin’ ta make a scene over. The apology is already more than appreciated….”

Of course being in the Summer Queen’s good graces really seemed to pull at the dwarves want to “right” things for Hoggle. Ugh. He rather preferred when no one thought twice about the words thrown his way. It was weird for anyone to care….

It was with relief - and a little trepidation - when Hoggle heard none other than Sir Didymus approaching them. He, Dumpling, and Yumika being led by Hickory over to where the Spring Prince and his bard stood. As soon as the knight saw his friends , Didymus hailed to them. Waving his staff about to get their attention while they were still a ways away.

“Sir Hoggle! My Lady Mars! There you two are! We knew you would return unharmed!”

And off the little fox-terrier creature bounced, making his way through the crowd of dwarves with some polite exclamations of “Pardon Me!, "Coming through!” and so forth. Both in common tongue and Khudzul, as a matter of fact. Which took Hoggle by surprise, he had no idea Didymus knew any at all!

What the -?!

“My, my! And new attire as well! I must say, a much better fit for the type of quest we are on at least!”

He grins as he finally reaches the dwarf and Urru, clapping Hoggle on the shoulder before grinning up at Mars. The smile going a bit slanted as he spoke,

“We spent a rousing night with Hickory playing Scrabble! Lady Yumika is still in a huff about how well she did at the game, but for a first time player it was not bad at all! You two seemed to have had a much more interesting night, yes?”

He turned to regard the redhead, their grandparent, and the rest of the assembled dwarves with bright curiosity.

“What is going on?”

Hoggled sighs lightly. Explaining for the whole group now.

“Short answer: our red headed friend over here commented on my lack of beard yesterday. ”

And other things.

“Their grandparent caught wind of this and was unhappy. A beardless dwarf means someone in mourning in older circles so they thought I’d been highly insulted and wanted to make amends. I wasn’t. I appreciate the apology I got anyway…It’s fine.”

Didymus hums lightly at this before commenting idly,

“…I admit I have wondered if you shaved everyday…”

Another sigh from Hoggle.

“No, Didymus. I’m just like this.”

adara-of-the-flame

Not for the first time in her life, Mars found herself wading around in a sea of short people. She had no problem with this. When you're seven feet tall, and have generally been on the tall side all of one's life, it's a useful, addaptive strategy to learn to look down and make sure you're not stepping on anyone.

...Or, sitting on anyone, since no sooner had Hoggle dryly confessed to always being different, then the half-Urru promptly folded one long leg over the other and sat cross-legged on the ground next to the dwarf. They still weren't eye-level. Close enough, though.

"You know, it's not so bad being different. Beleive it not, I'm not normal, either." She grinned, brushing some long hair behind an inhuman ear. "And, I've had a lot of people tell me it's not okay for someone to have four arms, but I don't let it bother me. It has it's advantages. Just like having no beard." Were the other Dwarves still arguing? It's almost like the whole, hairy mob had forgotten Hoggle, and thus why they were arguing to begin with.

"I mean, it's really hot here, right?" Mars continued. "Having a beard and all that hair would just make you overheated and sweaty. Not being hairy is practical; it's cooler. And, your hair doesn't get stuck on trees, and branches, and stuff." How her literal yards of hair never got stuck or tangled itself was anyone's guess. Mars always said it had something to do with the conditioner she used. "And, I think you look good either way, beard or no beard."

Was it just her, or were the other people besides she and Hoggle suddenly shorter than they were a moment before?

...And, getting shorter!

Mars looked down. The ground at her feet had been replaced with a leaf and petals seat for the two of them, a large stem rising the pair up from below. "...Are we on a flower? Hoggle, are you doing this?"

"No, but by the time I'm done with him, he should be able to do even more." The pair continued to rise until they were eye to enormous eye with Selva Roja. "Last Dwarf on Their Feet doesn't start till sundown. Until then, you're mine for Spring Training, Little Prince."

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the stench of this terrible blog…bleck!”

#the-name-is-Hoggle #Hoggle #Mars #RP #A Kingdom for a Kiss: Or why you should really read the fine print before handing out real estate #Bards are not borring.#Yeah! It's training time!

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wearylaurels · 3 days ago

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Not sure if this has already been said but I was going through the illustrations for the Illustrated hunger games and I can’t stop thinking of the depiction the artist took for Thresh.

In the original book, Katniss describes Thresh as powerful and intimidating—a build on par with the Careers, strong and silent, a mysterious threat lurking on the edges of the arena that is able to hold out until the very last days of the 74th games. And you can see how this interpretation informed the casting choices made for him in the live action adaptations. For years, the only image we’ve had of Thresh is of this strong, unstoppable guy who had to be taken out by either the physically strongest guy in the Games, or by monsters designed by the Capitol itself.

And then, you see Thresh as he’s illustrated.

The low angle. The backlight throwing almost his entire figure into shadow. The way he holds aloft the rock he just killed Clove with—the fact that you can *see* Clove’s corpse in the background. Everything about this image is designed to paint Thresh as this hulking berserker, moments away from beating in your skull.

But then you see his face. Those eyes, welling with tears. The look of disbelief. The way his mouth is opened—what is he saying? Is he asking Katniss if she’s the one who killed Rue? The little girl who would sing when it was time to go home from the fields? Or is he stunned into silence as Katniss recounts how she buried Rue in flowers, how she sang to her in her final moments? In the books it’s mentioned that he never talked to anyone—was he preparing, like Katniss, to see everyone in that arena as a threat? How shocked must he have been that this random girl he never even spoke to, whose name he’s probably forgotten, go to such lengths to show kindness to someone who wasn’t from her district?

More than anything, he looks so *young.* His eyes are large and expressive—his face is soft, still retaining a little baby fat. Throughout the book, Katniss categorizes her fellow tributes as potential threats first and foremost—she often describes Thresh as a stoic, unflinching powerhouse, but then you see this and you’re taken aback. Because this? This isn’t the calculating, powerful predator we’ve been expecting. This is very clearly a *child.* A *boy*, who’s been ripped from his home to fight to the death in an arena for the entertainment of the ruling class. Who probably got his strength from climbing trees, hauling sacks of grain, collecting food. Who was so deeply impacted by the death of his district partner that just the suggestion from another girl’s mouth that she had killed her sent him into a rage. Who, in the books, refused to interact with or fight any of his fellow tributes until he heard Clove talking at the feast.

You start wondering—did he ever want to kill anyone? Like Peeta, did the idea of the Capitol turning him into a killer make him sick? Like Reaper, was it a refusal to play into the hands of the Capitol? Like Katniss, did the fact alone that he had killed leave its own horrible mark? Did he spend his final nights jumping awake as he relived Clove’s skull caving under the rock? When the mutts finally came for him, do you think he hesitated when he saw the tributes’ eyes staring back?

This is a *kid.* They’re all just *kids.* And that’s what fucks me up so much about this picture of Thresh—that it’s not just a depiction of him, but of all the tributes who have ever competed in the Hunger games. That no matter how they are reframed as victors and monsters and killers and spectacles, at the end of the day they were all children. Boys and girls forced to fight each other to the death, while their true enemies watched on, laughing.

#I can also say so much about how Thresh’s shock at Katniss’ kindness to Rue plays into the tragedy of it all #how surprised he is that a district girl was able to befriend another district girl and even comfort and bury her #something something twelve and two? we’re neighbors #like buddy the only reason he’s fighting her is because the Capitol designed it to be so and it pisses me OFFFFF #“I liked thresh. I think we would have been friends in twelve #TURN THIS TV AWFFFFF #the hunger games #katniss everdeen #thresh hunger games #sunrise on the reaping #suzanne collins #thg series #thg

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nightplvmes · 2 days ago

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⋆｡° | winter ball date

⋆｡° | pairing : caleb x fem!reader/childhood friends | sfw, fluff, MDNI!

⋆｡° | word count : 1,200

⋆｡° | author’s note : this is an au, i think. i didn't want to put their ages, so you guys can imagine any age you want.

– likes and reblogs are appreciated!! :)

★ masterlist here

Caleb knocked on her bedroom door again. She hadn't left the room all day, and he was worried because she needed to eat. She had to eat sometime, right?

"I know you're there, I can hear you breathing," he lied. How could he hear her breathing when there was a huge wooden door between them? But maybe what he said worked, because the door opened almost immediately. A teenage girl, frowning, stood in front of him.

"You're lying," she said with a mix of confidence but there was that tone of doubt in her voice that told him she had no idea if Caleb was lying.

"I brought this for you." Caleb handed her a book, and he knew he'd done something right because her eyes lit up as she took it. She read too much, he had heard about something new she wanted to start reading and he knew her favorite authors well enough to know what to choose. She narrowed her eyes and stepped aside to let him into her room. "Will you tell me what's going on, or do I need to buy another book?"

She sighed, looking at the pretty book in her hands, and nodded, taking a seat on the edge of her bed. Caleb followed her a few seconds later. "The guy who wanted to ask me to go to the winter ball said no." She grimaced and did her best not to show her concern. It was her first winter ball; she'd never gone to one before.

"He did what?" Caleb's voice sounded a little angrier than he wanted. Who could reject her? He had to take a breath before speaking again to sound calmer. "Why did he do that?"

"He said he already had someone, but Cherry said she overheard him talking to his friends about not having someone yet." She frowned in confusion. She knew he'd lied. "I think I would feel better if he had just said no." She sighed as she looked at Caleb. He never attended school dances, she'd never seen him out with a girl, and she wondered if he'd ever liked anyone.

Minutes passed, both of them silent. Caleb's mind was racing; he felt bad seeing her sad. Plus, he knew how excited she was about that stupid ball because she'd talked about it nonstop and Grandma had promised to help her buy a pretty dress. "I'll go with you," Caleb blurted out, taking a couple of seconds to realize what he was saying.

She looked up, something sparkled in her eyes when she heard his words, but she tried not to get too excited. "You don't even go to the same school." She frowned, Caleb had graduated a year ago and she still had a little while left before graduating too. "You don't have to do that, Caleb."

"But I want to" he interrupted her before she could say anything else. One of his hands slid to take hers, he knew that comforted her, she always sought to touch his hand in any situation. "Besides, you'll be the most popular by taking an older guy."

She let out a giggle of excitement and felt happiness on her chest.

She was a little disappointed that Grandma wouldn't see her pretty dress, she didn't even know where she had gone, nor did she know what she had talked to Caleb about when they seemed to be arguing the night before. For a second she was afraid that her going out to the ball would be cancelled.

But now she was there, walking down the stairs as she ran her hands down her blue dress to get any wrinkles out of the fabric. It was no big deal, or at least that's how she felt. It was a simple dress, appropriate for someone her age. The hairstyle she didn't consider to be a big deal either, she had done it herself, she had just made waves.

"Caleb?" He turned at the sound of his name and had to clench his jaw to keep from blurting out all the compliments he had in mind. She always looked cute, with those apple clips she wore in her hair or even last week when she'd had a terrible cold for three days.

"You look so pretty." He smiled holding out his hand for her to take, something she did immediately. She liked compliments but there was different in the compliments made by Caleb.

"Thank you" she murmured. The night air hit her, causing her to cling to Caleb's arm. She was nervous but didn't know why.

She felt a little guilty that she had taken Caleb there. Everyone were dancing, some were talking, and she was just there, on one of the tables, playing with a bracelet Caleb had given her two years ago and had never taken off since.

"You can go dance," she spoke suddenly causing him to turn his face towards her, confused. "Lizzy has had her eyes fixed on you. She once said she liked older guys, you can dance with her." She shrugged. Well, Caleb wasn't that older but he was stil an older boy, didn't he?

"I came with you."

"But I..." She grimaced. She wasn't doing anything, the looks on both of them when they arrived had made her feel more shy than she already was. "I'm just sitting here, you can go dancing without me."

Caleb was silent for so long that she was sure that he would listen to her. Anyway, he didn't do it, a hand reached out in front of her and then Caleb's voice reached her ears. "Come on."

"Where?" she asked in confusion.

"Let's dance."

"Caleb, I don't know how to dance."

"That doesn't matter." He didn't wait for another excuse and took one of her hands to lead her to the dance floor. She had to close her eyes for two seconds and try not to think about the eyes and looks on them. "Just...move to the beat of the music," he said, so calm, as if all eyes weren't on them.

Caleb could dance? Sometimes he danced with her when they heard music but it were silly dances that no one saw and- can't be possible.... "What are you doing?" she asked as she saw the silly way he moved.

"Dancing." He shrugged as he continued to make silly moves that made her laugh.

It took her a couple of seconds to finally get rid of that embarrassment that filled her and try to move to the rhythm of the music or at least to the rhythm that Caleb was setting while she let out a few laughs. Suddenly she forgot about everything around her, the looks that had made her nervous and it was just the two of them.

Caleb had heard her talk about this dance about six times in the same week. She was too excited but little did she know that her shyness would end up causing her to sit and drinking the same apple juice for at least the first hour of the night.

And yet he had found a way to brighten her night, even if it meant he could make a fool of himself.

#caleb #love and deepspace #caleb x reader fluff #caleb x reader #caleb x you #lnd #lads #lads x reader #lads fluff #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace fluff

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vodika-vibes · 2 days ago

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Like Stars

Summary: You’ve never liked your appearance, specifically the hundreds of thousands of freckles that cover your entire body. You claim they’re ugly and that they make you look ugly, so you hide them under makeup. And you’ve done so since you were a teenager. But now you’re a Doctor attached to the 501st and you don’t always have the time for makeup.

Pairing: Clone Medic Kix x GN!Reader

Word Count: 1806

Warnings: Reader is described as having lots of noticeable freckles, Reader makes several comments about how they hate their appearance, Kix is a Guy about the reader and makes some suggestive comments

A/N: So I had an idea last night, and decided to write it. I hope you all like it.

Click HERE to be added to my taglist

There’s something about hyperspace travel that leaves the Resolute cold. No matter how much you layer, or how high you turn the heat in your personal quarters, you can still feel a chill down to your bones.

You hate it.

But you wouldn’t change anything about your life.

The men of the 501st are genial men, and they treat you with the utmost respect. Not to mention, they can be funny and they don’t treat you like an outsider, something your coworker attached to the 104th has had to deal with since day one.

More importantly, you get to work with Kix. The Chief Medical Officer for the 501st, and someone you’d be more than happy to call a friend even outside of work.

Okay, full disclosure, you’ve been nursing a crush on him for the better part of six months, and it’s not getting better. You thought—hoped, really—that spending time with him would kill the crush, it’s happened before after all, but no. The more time you spend with Kix the larger your crush grows.

He complimented your hair the other day, and you, the suave, smooth person you are, blurted, “Thanks, I was born with it.”

Luckily, he thought it was funny rather than just you being an awkward mess of a person. But you can already foresee the future. Kix is going to keep saying nice things to you, and you’re going to keep saying weird awkward things because you’re apparently a failure of a person.

You can already feel your face burning with remembered embarrassment, and you groan as you roll over to bury your face in your pillow. Maybe if you smother yourself, the remembered embarrassment will fade and you’ll be able to do your damn job.

Then your alarm goes off, and you release an ugly oath in three different languages. You lift your head off your pillow and glare at the chrono built into the wall next to your bed.

You’re not ready for another day.

You need another hour, at least, to obsess over how embarrassing your crush on Kix is before you can guilt yourself out of bed and into the sonic.

The chrono doesn’t care, though. It just keeps blaring it’s alarm, until you groan and roll off your bed to smack the button to turn it off.

And, well, now that you’re awake and on your feet, it just makes the most sense to drag yourself to the fresher and start your day.

You hop in the sonic and power it on. Sure, the sonic might be more efficient than a water based shower, but you’d sell your brother’s soul for a proper water based shower. Not yours, obviously. You need yours.

As soon as the sonic times down, you step in front of the mirror and absently grab your headband and pull it on. This, particular, headband was designed to hold your hair out of your face while you wash your face and apply your makeup.

You yawn as you open a drawer and pull a face wipe out of it’s container, and then grab the bottle of foundation from where it’s laying next to it.

At this point in your life, you don’t have to look at yourself in the mirror when you wash and apply your face. You could probably do it with your eyes closed, at this point, but you always watch anyway.

You scrunch up your nose in distaste as you examine your makeup free face. How is it that you have more freckles now than you did a week ago? You prod at your cheek and scowl, maybe you should save up some money to have the freckles removed, like at a clinic or something.

Your comm chimes a warning, and you release another curse. You got distracted, you’re going to be late.

Blindly, you grab the bottle of foundation and flip open the lid so you can pour some of the liquid on a small foam sponge, only for nothing to come out. You stare, bewildered, for a moment. And then you finally register that the bottle it empty.

A quick glance inside the drawer tells you that the bottle was faulty, since makeup now covers the bottom of the drawer.

Tragically, this bottle was supposed to last you the entire deployment. You don’t have another one. Which means, for the first time since you were a teenager, you have to go without makeup.

Maybe, if you just don’t look at anyone, they won’t see the freckles.

A fool’s hope, you know. Your freckles are very noticeable even from across the room.

You rub your hands across your face, and then tug your work clothes on, and turn to head out of your quarters.

You really, and truly, never wanted Kix to see you without makeup.

Vanity? Maybe. But you’ve hated the freckles since you were a small kid, and age has only made you hate them more. Kids can be cruel, after all. And parents can be even more so.

The walk from your quarters to the medbay is quick, as your room is intentionally just down the hall, just in case. The medics, Kix and the others, have their bunk on the other side of the medbay.

It means it is nearly impossible for you to be later, since your work station is only a couple of feet from your room, but it also means that you’re never the first person in.

So as the door slides open, you see the back of Kix’s head as he does his morning inventory. You grab your datapad from next to the door, and power it on, pulling it up to your face so no one can see what you look like, and then you read what’s on the screen.

“Oh, motherfuck. Today’s the day for physicals?”

Kix laughs and glances at you, “Did you forget?”

“I think I blocked it out since the last one was so traumatic.” You grouse as you scroll down the list, “Wait, how come I have both Tano and Skywalker?”

“Commander Tano didn’t feel comfortable receiving a physical from me,” Kix says easily, “And I gave you Skywalker since I’m unfamiliar with Jedi physiology.”

“You fucker.” You say, though there’s no heat in your voice, “Are we doing natborns and clones today?”

“Most of the natborns had their physicals already, it’s just Tano and Skywalker on that side. I am giving you the Shinies though.” Kix replies as he lifts his own datapad to glance at it.

“Just say you hate me, Kix. There’s no need to be passive aggressive.”

“They’re afraid of me, and I need them to come to the physicals, so you’re just going to have to suck it up, buttercup.”

“Yeah, well. If you were nicer—” You trail off as you scroll down the list, “I’m doing you? Uh...I mean,” You feel your face burn, “I’m giving you your physical today?”

You can feel him grinning at you at your slip of the tongue, “Yup. And I’m doing yours.” He replies, sounding delighted.

You finally drop your datapad away from your face, “I don’t need a physical? I already had mine.”

“Well, it wasn’t put in your file, so you’re getting another one.” Kix scans your face, and then he takes a step towards you, “Do you have freckles?”

“Shut up, don’t look at me.” You lift your datapad again, only Kix is faster as he yanks it out of your hand and lightly grips your chin. “Kix?!”

“You do! How have I never seen them?”

He’s standing really close to you. Too close for your sanity.

“I hide them with makeup,” You manage to get out, your voice slightly strangled

His thumb trails against your jaw, “Why would you do that?” There’s something awed in your voice and you start slightly when his other hand comes up to press against your cheek.

“I—well...they’re ugly,” You stammer, his hands are warm against your skin, slightly calloused from years of weapon handling, and dry from overusing hand sanitizer, but you can’t help but think that his hands feel nice against your skin.

“Says who?”

“Uh, lots of people, actually.” You shift, slightly uncomfortable, “And since they’re ugly it means I’m ugly, but I ran out of makeup. So…”

“You’re not ugly, and neither are the freckles.” Kix counters sternly, his fingers still lightly trailing from one freckle to the next, “It’s like—” He trails off, something soft in his gaze.

“Kix?”

“Someone painted the stars on your face,” He murmurs, “How can anyone think you’re ugly when you have entire galaxies written on your body.”

Something about his words, and the way he’s saying them, makes your entire body burn with flustered embarrassment, “Please stop.”

“Why?”

“You’re embarrassing me.” You whine.

He releases a low chuckle, “I know. You’re so cute when you’re flustered and tripping over yourself.”

“You’re doing it on purpose?!”

“Yeah. I like seeing how flustered I make you. Especially since you don’t get flustered near any of my brothers.” Kix grins and shifts a little closer, so you’re able to feel his armor pressed against you, “You have a crush on me.”

You glare at him, or you try to. You’re pretty sure it comes across as a pout based on how he’s grinning.

“That’s alright. I have a crush on you too.”

“...you can’t say that!” You lightly pound your fist against his chest plate.

“Why not?” His grin has grown.

“Because I have to give you a physical later and now that’s all I’ll be thinking about!”

And then Kix leans in so his lips are hovering just over yours, “Good.” He purrs out, and then his lips are against yours in a surprisingly heated kiss.

He’s gone before you can properly respond, and before you can even ask why and how and what, the door opens and Ahsoka pokes her head into the room, “Um...am I early?” She asks, her eyes darting from you to Kix and then back again.

“I...uh...no. No, you’re right on time.” You struggle to shift your brain back into doctor mode, and judging by the grin on his face he can tell, “We’re going behind the blue curtain, alright Ahsoka? I just need a moment to find your file.”

She nods nervously, “Alright. I’ll just so sit…”

The teenager wanders off and you scowl at Kix as soon as she’s behind the curtain, “You’re trouble.”

“I can’t wait to show you just how much.” He counters with a wink. And then you both have to go to work as Rex steps into the room for his physical as well.

But, for the first time in your life, you think that maybe, just maybe, your freckles aren’t something that needs to be hidden away.

@heidnspeak

@justiceandwar98

@etod

@kiss-anon

@lonewolflupe

@silly-starfish

@msmeredithrose

@cdblake1565

@badbatch-bitch

@continous-mistakes

@falconfeather23435

@tiredbi-peach

@kimiheartblade

@clones-cyare

@cc--2224

@0revna0

@mira-loves-star-wars

@trixie2023

@rebell-ious

@padawancat97

@sweater-sloot

@bb8-99

@maniacalbooper

@wax-birds

@adriennelenoir

@omegaprime18

@bad4amficideas

@dukeoftheblackstar

@yoitsjay

@liz-stat

@arctech-fox

@lokigirlszendaya

@sailorflora

@jetiimasterbekah

@six-1mpossiblethings

@clonetrooperjournals

#star wars #tcw #clone medic kix x reader #kix x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #gn!reader fic

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brehaaorgana · 2 days ago

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Part of my complaint is definitely aimed at that guy who asked chat gpt if he needed a visa to go to Chile, sure. But another large part of my complaint is more abstract, I suppose.

I don't see a purpose in using chat gpt to brainstorm, because it does not have a brain.

The entire process from start to finish of doing something like that is unfathomable to me.

Brainstorming requires that you actually think about something and collect your own thoughts on a topic. When you ask chat gpt to generate an itinerary for you, based on your prompting, you're not actually brainstorming, because you didn't think about anything, and it certainly cannot think about it either.

It's like...I don't care if you want to outsource the planning or the thinking. But those resources already exist! They exist in abundance, from other people who did all that planning or thinking or experiencing already! there's hundreds or thousands of places to find "travel ideas" that are available to anyone wanting to find them.

they already exist. they're already there. they're easy to find in abundance. and if you ask chat gpt to reinvent that wheel, you create more work for yourself fact-checking the unthinking program.

why on earth would you do that, when you presumably don't even want to have to do any real brainstorming work yourself? i see this as a lack of survival skills and ability to use the internet, because it's a choice to delegate the work of "exploring ideas" to a machine, and that choice will just cause you additional, unnecessary work, time, and effort! why? there are entire travel publishing companies who are dedicated to fact checking and updating their information - and they have websites! there are bloggers and travel websites that do that extra work for you. they looked up the official information already, and linked it, or cited it. they had someone go to a place and report back about the things you wouldn't know without having been there.

I would respect normal laziness more than this. hell, i can be a spectacularly lazy person, myself! but this isn't really even in the great spirit of being lazy. it's MORE work. and for what? even if you're "very good" at fine tuning your prompt, you...still have to fact check everything and make sure it makes sense, and edit it. you could've just mixed together a few pre-made itineraries for less trouble.

every time i see someone on travel subreddits, their chat gpt stuff is...basically terrible garbage. or ridiculously unhelpful.

For example,

yesterday someone posted:

My question I guess is when I’m doing an estimated budget that includes Food, Shopping (Souvenirs and Gifts), Transport, Activities (Shibuya Sky, Universal Studios, Mario Kart Tour, etc.) the total is coming out to be around $15,000 CAD. That does include a budget surplus of about 15% (just in case of unexpected emergencies), but am I highballing it too much or is $15K the expected amount? I know my major costs will be flights and hotels, but what am I expecting for everything else. I used ChatGPT and it’s saying that I’d be expected to spend $2500 on just food alone which doesn’t sound right.

$2,500 CAD on food for 15 days (what they are planning) is fucking insane for MOST people. Even for two people.

But guess what? I have the Michelin guidebook to Japan, and it COMES WITH estimated budgets by tiers. The highest tier is this:

high budget, luxury hotels, very sophisticated ryokan, travel by taxi or rental car, meals in fashionable or gastronomic restaurants, and shopping or attractions to fill the afternoon: allow for 35,000 Yen per day (per person).

That's $332.66 CAD a day. So, for 15 days, $4,989.90 CAD per person. But that includes wayyyy more than just "Eating food." That included where you're staying, what you're doing, how you're traveling!

So two things, right?:

$2,500 CAD on just food is a bonkers luxury budget for japan. You can definitely spend way way less than that and eat very very well.

my book was published march 2020, so in all fairness, it IS slightly out of date. that's more of a concern for what might've closed post-pandemic, though, less so for pricing. Still, https://www.japan-guide.com/e/e2410.html has budget tiers too. So do a bajillion other more recently published travel guides and websites.

for comparison, I am going to Japan this week, I have pre-booked one very fancy dinner/show, the premium course. It is ¥ 26,400 a person, so $250 CAD-ish, or $175 USD. So sure, if I was eating extremely fancy $250 CAD meals 3 times a day, I would need $11,250 CAD per person.

but I probably don't need to book three insanely expensive meals every single day I'm in japan.

or here's another example of someone's chat gpt itinerary:

7th march : Back to Tokyo [from Osaka] and staying in Shinjuku Meiji jingu Harajuku Takeshita street Ginza Golden Gai / omoide yokocho shinjuku

To illustrate why this is absurd:

Taking the high speed train at 9:17 am will get you to Tokyo Station at 12:03 pm. Now you need to take the 12:20 subway to Shinjuku station for another 20-ish minutes.

here's how this itinerary looks with the start at Tokyo station:

This is absurd. Stop #5 in Ginza is walking distance from Tokyo station. Each ward of tokyo is essentially the population of a huge city unto itself, so it's a LOT to try to start in Marunouchi (Tokyo Station), then going to Shinjuku, then Shibuya, then Ginza, then back to Shinjuku again is doing a lot of things. And these things are all POSSIBLE, but this is the stupidest possible method of doing them in a single day wherein you are literally only arriving to Tokyo station at NOON.

this isn't just japan, either. i see iceland itineraries that suggest "stop by nearby ___" and the nearby thing is an hour's drive away. which is relative, sure, but it's a long way to go out of your way for one thing in a day.

another person posted a switzerland & italy chat gpt trip and days would look like this:

Day 5: October 9 - Travel to Lucerne and Montreux

Morning: Travel by train from Zurich to Lucerne (approx. 1 hour). Explore the Chapel Bridge, Old Town, and Lake Lucerne. Luggage lockers available at Lucerne train station.

Afternoon: Travel by train from Lucerne to Montreux on the Golden Pass Line (approx. 2.5 hours). Check into the hotel in Montreux.

Evening: Dinner at local restaurants.

every single evening was "Dinner at local restaurants."

"travel from point a to B, maybe see xyz. check into hotel in PLACE."

what the fuck was the point of asking chat gpt ANYTHING?

btw from zurich to lucerne is 41 minutes by train. meanwhile the train from lucerne to montreux is 2 hours and 55 minutes. personally I wouldn't feel like trip #1 is "about an hour" I would feel like it's 40 minutes. and I wouldn't think of a 2 hour 55 minute train ride as "2.5 hours" I would round up and say "about 3 hours."

or what about this day in South Korea:

31st January - Last Minute Explorations & Departure

Morning: Visit Namdaemun Market.

Afternoon: Explore Myeongdong.

Late Afternoon: Depending on your flight time, head to Incheon International Airport for your departure

what the fuck is the point of this? "visit this market, explore this neighborhood." ....you don't need an itinerary to do that. you're literally just wandering around! I stayed in myeondong last year, i didn't need chat gpt to tell me "explore the area." i just wandered around the streets and then went back to my hotel.

an earlier day on that plan:

28th January - Cultural Immersion & Traditional Crafts

Morning: Explore Bukchon Hanok Village.

Afternoon: Visit the Leeum, Samsung Museum of Art.

Late Afternoon: Engage in a Traditional Korean Craft Workshop:

Participate in activities such as making your own traditional Korean pottery, paper crafts, or traditional jewelry.

This hands-on experience allows you to immerse yourself in Korean art and crafts, creating a memorable souvenir or gift.

Evening: Enjoy dinner in Insadong, exploring the traditional alleys and perhaps catching a live performance or street artist.

why are we going from the hanok village to the leeum museum of art and then BACK to insadong???

where is this craft class? which class? making what? why are we doing it after the museum of art, when you were in the traditional hanok village to start with and there's probably traditional craft classes for tourists happening there....?

why not start the day at leeum, lunch near there, then go to the hanok village, see if there's a local souvenir craft class available, and then dine in insadong not far away for dinner?

what's the point. of making this much more work? why do people care so very little about their travel that they just...do this?

People who ask chatgpt for help planning international travel are quite literally some of the most helpless people on the planet. Because now it's beyond "lol they wouldn't survive a day without cell service and internet access." It's worse than that. They can't survive WITH internet access either.

At that point, you have no street smarts AND no book smarts. You can't even use the world wide web properly. Absolutely zero survival skills in any arena.

#the amount of extra work and effort? don't get it #the soulless nature of the suggestions? don't get it #the complete lack of enthusiasm or curiosity about where you might go? don't get it #people act like this is a helpful tool to streamline planning a trip but chat gpt will be like “eat wonderful dinner in the city”#chat gpt itineraries be like: feel sad and pay respects at memorial. do an activity somewhere. whatever kind. you know. an activity.#“explore neighborhood. then travel 30 minutes away across the city to do something else. then travel 25 minutes back the way you came”#one person's itinerary had them visiting phi phi thailand three separate times #honestly if i was this unenthusiastic about where i wanted to go i wouldn't waste money traveling

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itsxarien · 2 days ago

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you are in love ! | caleb x reader

“you can hear it in the silence, silence, you can feel it on the way home, way home, you can see it with the lights out, lights out. you are in love, true love..” - taylor swift

Caleb had no idea how he ended up here.

One second, he was your personal chef, casually cooking your favorite meal in his Skyhaven apartment, teasing you whenever you snuck a bite before it was done. The next, he was sitting cross-legged on the floor, makeup brushes and palettes scattered around him, letting you use him as your personal mannequin.

How did this happen? He didn’t know. But he didn’t say no. Of course he didn’t.

He huffed a low chuckle as you dusted a soft pink blush onto his cheeks, your brows furrowed in concentration. He could feel the warmth of your fingers brushing against his skin with each gentle stroke.

“Enjoying yourself, huh, pipsqueak?” he teased, arching a brow, though the corner of his mouth twitched upward in a lopsided grin.

You shot him a look, entirely unamused. “Stop moving! You’re gonna ruin it!”

Without hesitation, you grabbed his face with both hands, squishing his cheeks slightly, and tugged him closer. His breath caught. You were so close now.. Your noses almost brushing, your eyes narrowed in determined focus.

His heart did a somersault.

You were completely oblivious to the effect you had on him. You always were. To you, this was just fun—a silly little project, your favorite hobby combined with his endless patience. But to Caleb, it was something else entirely.

Because God help him, the way you were looking at him: lips pursed slightly, lashes dipping low as you struggled to steady your hand while attempting to apply eyeliner—he thought he might actually lose his mind.

There was something so affectionate about it. Just you, painting his face with all the gentle familiarity of someone who had known him forever. You didn’t even realize how tender you were being.

And he just sat there. Letting you. Because he didn’t want it to stop.

When you finally leaned back, you clapped your hands together with giddy satisfaction, your eyes lighting up like you’d just discovered a new galaxy.

“Tada!” you beamed, raising your arms in triumph. “You’re the most beautiful boy in Skyhaven!”

But Caleb wasn’t looking at his reflection.

No, the most beautiful thing in the room was right in front of him.

It was the way your eyes crinkled slightly at the corners when you smiled, the way your laugh—bright and breathless—filled the entire space. It was the warmth in your gaze, the way it softened when you looked at him, not realizing how much of himself he could see in your eyes.

And in that moment, he knew.

He was in love. Completely, hopelessly, irrevocably in love with you.

And he didn’t need a mirror to see it. It was right there—in the way his hand lingered at your wrist when you reached for another brush, in the way his gaze kept drifting back to your mouth, and in the way his heart ached just from watching you.

But he didn’t say anything. He just let the moment hang between you. Tue warmth of your laughter, the easy comfort of being close to you.. because he was too afraid to break it.

Instead, he smirked faintly, falling back on old habits. On the teasing, the banter, the safety of your friendship.

“Beautiful, huh?” he drawled, leaning back against the couch, his lips twitching upward. “Don’t let it get to my head, pipsqueak. I might become a full-time model after this.”

You rolled your eyes, playfully shoving his shoulder as you let out a breathless giggle. “Yeah, right.”

And Caleb just laughed along with you, pretending he wasn’t unraveling at the edges. Pretending that he wasn’t already yours in every way that mattered.

Pauses, then says: you’re my best friend… you knew what it was

He is in love

#love and deepspace caleb #lads caleb #caleb #lnds #love and deepspace #lnds caleb #caleb x reader #caleb x mc #caleb x you #lads mc #lads #lads x reader

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scarluna · 13 hours ago

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Thoughts of You

Y/N starts work as a client agent at a big corporate company. There, she meets Jungkook, a man who confuses the hell out of her.

Pairing: Jungkook x Fem!Reader

Genre/Tags: plus sized reader, fuckboy jungkook, insecurities, smoking

Chapter available: 1 |

Chapters: 2 / ?

Chapter Warnings: mature language, a little sexual tension

A/N: In sake of this fic, some things are added, others are a little changed, but the overall story is true. I AM AS CONFUSED AS Y/N OK? OK.

A week had passed, and Y/N found herself standing in front of her mirror, dreading the idea of stepping out. The past few days had been a relentless battle between her self-doubt and the need to push herself beyond her comfort zone. She hated the way she looked—how big she felt in her own skin. Every outfit she tried on made her feel worse, her reflection in the mirror only reinforcing the insecurities gnawing at her.

Sighing, she settled on oversized clothes, ones that concealed rather than accentuated, offering her a semblance of security. Her hair was curled loosely, cascading down her shoulders, a contrast to the chaos in her mind. A touch of makeup—just enough to make her feel like she had put in some effort, yet not enough to draw attention—completed her look.

Her dog whined at her feet, sensing her reluctance, but Y/N gave the pup a small smile before grabbing her bag and stepping out the door. The fresh air hit her face, yet it did little to ease the weight in her chest. The car ride was silent, save for the occasional deep breath she took to steel herself.

Arriving at the meetup spot, she saw her colleagues already gathered, laughter filling the air. They greeted her warmly, joking about the upcoming night, their energy so effortlessly light compared to the storm within her. For a fleeting moment, she managed a small smile, allowing herself to feel a bit of ease in their presence.

Then came the loud roar of an engine, bass-heavy music thumping through the air. The group turned, already knowing who it was before they even saw the sleek car roll up beside them. Jungkook. His presence was impossible to ignore, commanding attention the moment he stepped out.

Y/N swallowed as she caught sight of him. The disheveled hair, the relaxed posture, and—what made her stomach churn—the faint but unmistakable hickeys littering his neck.

Her heart sank, her mood plummeting instantly. She had been struggling to even step out of her house, to feel like she belonged among them, while he... he had been out, living effortlessly, having fun, and clearly enjoying the company of someone else.

She shifted her gaze away, forcing herself to maintain composure as their friends greeted him with teasing remarks. She wanted to disappear, to retreat into the comfort of her home, where she could be alone with her dog and her thoughts.

But she was here now, and she had to endure it. Even if it hurt.

The teasing began almost instantly.

“Damn, Jungkook,” one of their colleagues smirked, nudging him playfully. “Rough night?”

Another chimed in, laughing. “Or should I say, rough nights? You’ve got enough hickeys to last the week.”

Jungkook, ever the cocky one, simply grinned, running a hand through his already messy hair. “What can I say?” he shrugged, his voice dripping with amusement. “Gotta keep life interesting.”

The group erupted into laughter, the energy high and unbothered. Y/N, on the other hand, remained quiet, staring ahead as if their conversation didn’t concern her. She pulled a cigarette from her pocket, lighting it with steady hands, despite the storm raging inside her. Taking a slow, deep drag, she let the smoke swirl around her, masking the bitter taste of disappointment that sat heavy on her tongue.

She had no right to feel this way. She knew that. He wasn’t hers—never was, never would be. But for even a second, she had allowed herself to believe there was something. A fleeting glance, a moment of warmth, a shared silence that had meant nothing to him but had kept her awake at night, foolishly hoping.

Stupid. She was so, so stupid.

“Hey, you good?” One of her colleagues leaned toward her, their voice laced with concern.

Y/N forced a lazy smile, exhaling the smoke as she waved them off. “Yeah, just too sleepy to function.” A lie, but an easy one.

They seemed satisfied with her answer, turning back to the conversation as Jungkook smirked at another crude joke thrown his way. Y/N, meanwhile, sat in silence, the cigarette burning between her fingers as she fought the cruel thoughts in her head.

She needed to stop. Stop pretending. Stop romanticizing. Stop letting herself fall into this ridiculous fairytale where she was ever anything more than just another face in his orbit.

Jungkook would never see her the way she wished he would.

And it was time she stopped seeing him that way too.

The break room was lively, filled with the usual chatter and laughter as everyone settled in for their lunch break. Some were sprawled out on the couches, others engaged in a casual game of football, while a few gathered around the vending machines debating over snacks. Y/N sat at the table in front of Jungkook, absentmindedly picking at her food, her mind drifting elsewhere as the conversation carried on around her.

Jungkook, spinning lazily in his chair, suddenly spoke up, dragging everyone’s attention back to him. “You know,” he mused, stretching his arms behind his head, “I think I should date an older woman. Maybe even a MILF.”

A chorus of laughter erupted around the room. “Oh yeah?” One of the guys smirked. “Thinking of settling down already?”

Jungkook grinned, shaking his head. “Nah, just think it could be fun. Older women have their shit together, know what they want, plus…” He trailed off as he turned slightly in his chair, catching movement outside the window. His gaze locked onto a woman walking past the building, pushing a baby stroller. She was effortlessly beautiful—dressed casually yet put together, her confidence apparent in the way she carried herself.

“Damn,” he murmured, tilting his head. “Now she’s hot.”

Some of the guys turned to look, chuckling at his sudden distraction. “She’s got a baby, dude.”

Jungkook shrugged, still watching her. “So? Doesn’t mean she’s taken.” He smirked, clearly entertained by his own train of thought. “Think I should ask if she’s single?”

Y/N felt her stomach twist in disgust. She had spent the last week trying to fight off the stupid storm of feelings and confusion she had toward him, trying to remind herself that this was the reality and no matter how his words were gathered, he was still a fuckboy and probably did not mean anything he had told her so far about him being loyal. Here he was, proving her right without even realizing it.

She didn’t think. She just moved.

Pushing her chair back abruptly, she stood up and walked straight out of the break room, her face blank, her heart pounding with frustration. She didn’t even care how obvious it looked—she just needed to get out of there.

As the door swung shut behind her, Jungkook’s amused voice carried through the room. “Oh, no, Y/N is tired of my shit!” he joked, shaking his head as the others laughed.

But for the first time, something about her reaction made him pause.

Y/N had made it a habit to slip away during breaks, finding solace in the quiet outside. The crisp air, the burn of the cigarette between her fingers—it was the only thing that seemed to ground her these days. She avoided the break room, avoided the easy laughter and meaningless conversations, and most importantly, she avoided him.

Jungkook.

But of course, he found her anyway.

She barely had time to take another drag when she heard the door creak open behind her. She knew it was him before he even spoke.

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

Y/N exhaled slowly, watching the smoke dissipate in the air before she turned her gaze to him. “No, I haven’t.”

Jungkook let out a low chuckle, stepping closer, his presence too overwhelming, too intoxicating. “Liar.” His tone was teasing, but there was something else beneath it—curiosity, maybe even concern. “You barely look at me. You don’t sit with us anymore.”

She shrugged, taking another drag, feigning indifference. “I’m just tired.”

Jungkook didn’t look convinced. His dark eyes scanned her face, as if searching for something beneath her guarded expression. The silence between them was heavy, charged. Y/N could feel the heat of his gaze, the way he was studying her, trying to read between the lines of her simple excuse.

“You sure that’s all?” His voice was lower now, softer, and it made her stomach tighten in a way she hated.

Before she could answer, his phone buzzed loudly in his pocket, breaking whatever unspoken thing had been building between them. Jungkook sighed, pulling it out and glancing at the screen. He didn’t answer immediately, but whatever he saw on the display made him smirk slightly before he finally picked up.

“Yo,” he answered casually, his voice shifting into something more playful. A few short words, and then he hung up.

Moments later, Y/N heard heels clicking against the pavement. She didn’t have to turn around to know who it was—she could already picture the kind of girl Jungkook surrounded himself with. And when she did look, her stomach twisted.

The girl was thin, almost unnaturally so, her long hair spilling down in artificially perfect waves. Everything about her was polished—the exaggerated lashes, the overly plumped lips, the body sculpted to perfection.

“Hey, you,” she greeted Jungkook with a slow, knowing smile, her voice dripping with familiarity.

They were close. Too close. The way she looked at him, the way he smirked at her—it didn’t take much to guess what kind of history they had.

Y/N felt something ugly crawl up her throat, but she swallowed it down. She refused to let it show. Instead, she forced a weak smile, one that probably looked as fake as the girl’s hair extensions.

“I’ll leave you two to it,” she murmured, flicking her cigarette away as she immediately slipped back into the building without giving Jungkook time to respond. This entire thing kept running in her mind, it was as if this was all she could think of the month she has been here. Y/N had to get a fucking grip and get over this, all of the men she had met in her past were the same, men who were one in words yet did the opposite. She shouldn’t have been surprised about this, it was as if Universe sent a huge middle finger her way for being so closed off. -

Y/N sat across from her close friend at their usual café, the scent of fresh coffee filling the air. She stirred her drink absentmindedly, sighing as she recounted everything—Jungkook, the break room incident, the fake-looking girl, and the way she had walked away, feeling small and ridiculous for even being affected.

Her friend had a a knack for reading people far too well, listened attentively, nodding along as Y/N spoke. When she was finished, her friend leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand.

“You know what I think?” she said thoughtfully.

Y/N groaned. “Here we go.”

“I think you’re stuck.”

Y/N frowned. “Stuck how?”

“You’ve been in your comfort zone for too long, Y/N,” her friend said seriously. “You’re always playing it safe, always hiding. And I get it—you like your space, your quiet world. But growth doesn’t happen in places that are comfortable. If you want to move on, if you want to feel better about yourself, you need to push yourself.”

Y/N arched a brow. “And how do you suggest I do that?”

“Easy. Start by doing things you wouldn’t normally do. Wear something different, change up your makeup, say yes to things instead of immediately retreating.” Her friend smiled. “Do it for yourself. Not for Jungkook, not for anyone else. Just you.”

Y/N hesitated, biting her lip. It sounded simple enough, but it wasn’t. She had built her world around comfort and control, and stepping outside of that felt terrifying. But at the same time, a part of her knew her friend was right.

And so, the next morning, she did just that.

For once, she didn’t reach for her oversized clothes. Instead, she slid into a pair of skinny jeans, ones that hugged her figure in a way she wasn’t used to but didn’t hate. She paired it with a soft, slightly low-cut blouse—work-appropriate yet subtly flattering. Her makeup was a little more refined, enhancing rather than hiding. She stared at herself in the mirror, unsure at first. But the longer she looked, the more she felt… okay. Not completely confident, but okay.

And that was a start.

When Y/N arrived at the office, the reaction was immediate.

“Damn, Y/N, look at you!” one of her colleagues grinned.

“You look amazing!” another chimed in, eyes flickering over her in genuine appreciation.

She offered them a small, almost shy smile, mumbling a quiet “Thanks” as she made her way to her desk. It felt strange, the attention, but it wasn’t bad. For once, she wasn’t trying to disappear into the background.

The door opened, and in walked Jungkook.

She held her breath, but he barely reacted. He walked past her, barely sparing a glance before offering a casual, “Hey,” before settling into his place.

That was it.

Y/N exhaled, realizing something.

She hadn’t done this for him. And that meant his reaction—or lack of it—didn’t matter.

And for the first time in a long while, she felt something close to free.

The afternoon sun hung lazily in the sky as Y/N stepped outside for a quick smoke break. The air was thick with casual conversation and laughter as a few colleagues gathered, all taking a moment to unwind. She leaned against the railing, taking a slow drag from her cigarette, exhaling as she listened to the chatter around her.

“Y/N, you look different lately,” a voice piped up beside her. She turned to see one of her colleagues, a guy who had always been a little too flirty, watching her with an interested smirk. “In a good way,” he added, his eyes running over her outfit.

She gave him a polite smile, shrugging. “Just trying something new.”

“Well, it suits you,” he said, stepping a little closer. “We should celebrate the new you. Maybe grab some drinks after work? My place, maybe even watch a movie?” His voice had a certain implication to it, and Y/N felt her stomach twist.

She chuckled lightly, shaking her head. “Thanks, but I’ll have to pass.”

“Oh, come on,” he pressed, his tone playful but persistent. “It’ll be fun. Just a casual hangout.”

Y/N stiffened slightly, the forced smile on her lips faltering. “I said no,” she replied, firmer this time, but he didn’t seem to take the hint, leaning in just a little too much.

Before she could react, another voice cut through the air.

“Is there a problem here?”

The mood shifted instantly.

Jungkook had been standing nearby, leaning against the wall with his own cigarette in hand, casually listening in. But now, his entire posture had changed—his jaw tight, his expression unreadable as he stared at the guy with an intensity that made everyone else go quiet.

The colleague blinked, caught off guard. “Nah, man. Just talking.”

Jungkook didn’t break eye contact. “Didn’t sound like just talking.” His voice was low, calm, but there was something sharp in it. Something warning.

The guy let out a small, awkward laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Relax, dude. Just asking her out.”

“She said no,” Jungkook stated plainly.

Silence stretched between them, tension thick enough to cut through. Y/N glanced between the two, her heart beating a little faster, not expecting Jungkook to step in like this.

The colleague raised his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. No harm done.” He took a step back, throwing Y/N one last glance before mumbling something under his breath and walking off.

Jungkook took a slow drag from his cigarette before flicking his gaze toward Y/N. “You good?”

She exhaled, nodding. “Yeah. Thanks.”

He didn’t say anything right away, just studied her for a moment before finally nodding back, looking away as he took another drag.

But even as the conversation around them resumed, Y/N could still feel his presence beside her, solid and unwavering. And for some reason, that alone made her feel a little lighter.

The workday finally came to an end, and the office slowly emptied as people grabbed their bags, exchanging casual goodbyes. Y/N slung her purse over her shoulder, taking a deep breath as she stepped out into the cool evening air.

She made her way toward the bus stop, the day’s events still sitting heavy in her mind. Just as she was about to put in her headphones to drown out her thoughts, she heard the familiar sound of an engine purring beside her.

Jungkook’s sleek car rolled up, the passenger window sliding down effortlessly. “Where you headed?” he asked casually, one hand resting on the wheel.

Y/N blinked, shifting her bag on her shoulder. “Uh… home?”

Jungkook smirked. “Get in. I’ll drive you.”

She hesitated.

This was unexpected. It wasn’t like they were close. Sure, they shared breaks, exchanged words, but this? This felt like something else.

“I’m fine, the bus is—”

“Slow. And uncomfortable,” he cut in smoothly. “Come on, it’s a thirty-minute ride. You’d rather sit in a crowded bus when I’m right here?” His gaze flickered toward her, something teasing yet unreadable behind those dark eyes.

Y/N bit her lip, the refusal sitting on the tip of her tongue. But then she remembered her friend’s words—step out of your comfort zone.

Maybe this was one of those moments.

With a small sigh, she relented. “Fine.”

Sliding into the passenger seat, she was instantly engulfed in warmth, the subtle hum of the car’s engine vibrating beneath her. And the scent—God, his scent—wrapped around her, all masculine spice and something distinctly him. She forced herself to focus on buckling her seatbelt rather than the fact that she was sitting next to Jungkook in a confined space, inhaling his cologne like it was some kind of drug.

He pulled onto the road, one hand lazily gripping the wheel, the other resting near the gearshift.

“So,” he mused after a moment, glancing at her. “What’s your deal?”

Y/N frowned. “My deal?”

“Yeah. You don’t talk much. You keep to yourself. And yet…” He trailed off, a smirk playing on his lips. “You’ve been looking different lately. Acting different too.”

She scoffed, shaking her head. “So I put on better clothes and now I’m a mystery?”

Jungkook chuckled, the deep sound vibrating through the car. “You were already a mystery. This just makes you more interesting.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but felt the heat creeping up her neck. The conversation flowed easier than she expected, light banter mixed with moments of silence that weren’t uncomfortable. The drive went by quicker than she thought, and before she knew it, Jungkook was pulling up in front of her apartment building, shifting the car into park.

She turned to thank him, but the words caught in her throat.

The air between them shifted.

The low hum of the engine did nothing to mask the way the tension suddenly thickened, heavy and lingering. The dim glow of the streetlights outside barely illuminated the inside of the car, casting soft shadows across Jungkook’s sharp features.

His gaze settled on her, slow and deliberate.

Y/N swallowed, her fingers tightening slightly around her purse.

He tilted his head slightly, eyes flickering down to her lips before meeting her gaze again. “You’re hard to read, you know that?” His voice was lower now, smoother.

She let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding, forcing a small smile. “Maybe I like it that way.”

Jungkook’s smirk deepened, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes. “Yeah?”

She nodded, gripping the handle of the door before things could spiral into something she wasn’t sure she was ready for. “Thanks for the ride, Jungkook.”

He didn’t stop her. Didn’t say anything else. Just watched as she slipped out of the car and made her way to her building.

But she could feel his gaze on her, lingering, burning, until she finally disappeared inside—her heart hammering against her ribs the entire way up to her apartment.

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apollabarnes · 2 days ago

Text

Smoke on the Game Changer Set

inspired by @maygrcnt's gorgeous posts here and here

"All right everybody, we've gotten a call about smoke inside. It's a studio, so lots of lights and wires. Eyes up, extinguishers out, and we should find this before it becomes a thing," Bobby said, swinging out of the captain's seat. "Chim, talk to those folks over there, they might have a better idea what's going on. Buck, Ravi, Hen, with me." "On it, Cap," Chim snapped his gum, hopping out and heading for the small group of people. "Afternoon folks, you mind if I ask you a few questions?" "If this is a studio, any chance that the smoke is from a special effect and someone's overreacting?" Hen asked, shouldering an extinguisher. "Definitely my hope," Bobby said, heading through the front door. "Any day we don't have to put a fire out is a good one in my books." He waved down a production member. "Where can I find the person in charge?"

"First doorway on the left, ask for Sam," she said, eyeing them curiously. "Sophie, we've got four firefighters asking for Sam," she continued, keying the headset she was wearing. "I called them. I'll meet them there." "Mm, okay, look for the woman with the headset that looks like she's running everything. Good luck." "Good luck?" Buck asked, falling in behind Hen. "Not going to turn it down, but don't most people want us to have good luck when we're fighting fires?" "It's Hollywood," Bobby sighed. "You should have heard some of the grips on Hotshots." "Great, you're here! I'm Sophie, I called 911." She shook Bobby's hand. "Sam's this way, you can just tell him what's going on and he'll help clear everybody out." "How many people are on set right now?" "Twenty… five? There are a few outside." "I've got a firefighter with them," Bobby assured her. "Everyone, hang here for a minute, we might need to escort them out in groups." "Ooh, is this a game show?" Ravi asked, stepping through the curtains. "This place looks like the seventies threw up on it. I love it." "Excuse me," Bobby said, beelining for the man behind the main podium. "Sam? We need to get everyone cleared out of here while we make sure there's no risk of fire." Sam craned his head around them, looking backstage. "Sophie, did — right, okay, everyone outside. We'll let the firefighters check the stage out and then resume after. Zac's still — uh-huh, outside. Don't come back in, we'll come to you." "Wait a minute. No." One of the contestants leaned across their podium, smoothing their shirt out. "These aren't firefighters. They're way too gorgeous to be firefighters." "Well, thank you, but this is serious and we really do need all of you to evacuate while we make sure that nothing is burning," Hen said, aiming a disbelieving smile at the rest of them. "He didn't say Sam Says," the other contestant interjected. "This is just another one of his plots to make sure that I can never win!" "Brennan! I've never put any of you in actual danger before, there is an actual limit to what I'm willing to do. —There's no limit to what they're willing to do," Sam told Bobby, "I've had one of them offer to give birth on stage and others volunteer to get actual tattoos." "Uh, maybe I don't want to be on this game show," Ravi agreed, blinking at Sam. "Of course you don't, it's a torture nexus specifically designed to drive me insane," Brennan cried. "Ally, help me out here." "He really didn't say Sam Says," Ally agreed. "Definitely suspicious." "Sam Says if you go outside everyone gets a hundred points," Sam announced. "Zac's already got them because he's outside." Brennan frowned at them, squinting at each of them in turn. "That one's a nurse, he was on the episode of Hotshots where Banner came out of his coma!" He announced, pointing at Buck. "They are actors!" "Okay, well yeah, I-I did do that, but it was only because Brad was shadowing Bobby at work," Buck stammered, looking at Bobby. "Cap?" "If they refuse to leave, carry them out. We've already got most of the crew headed out the front," Bobby said, sticking a thumb over his shoulder. One cameraman had stayed behind, but otherwise the set was empty. "I swear, Sam, if this is part of the game I'm going to be extremely angry," Brennan said. "Can I get carried?" Ally asked, raising their hand. "For uh. Science." "No," Bobby said decisively, herding them towards the door. "Buck, hang back with Hen and try and find that smoke." "On it!" Chim had gathered up the rest of the crew on the other side of the truck, waving towards Bobby. "Took you a minute, did you run into trouble?" "Apparently they didn't believe that it might be an actual emergency." "Yeah… the rest of them mentioned something about that. Buck and Hen looking for the source?" "We'll wait to go back in until we know if we need the hoses or not." "Great! While we wait — Ravi, come here, I want to introduce you to Zac. Have you ever heard of a dance called the Wenis?"

#911 fic #evan buckley #chimney han #hen wilson #bobby nash #ravi panikkar #game changer #crack crack crackity crack

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rwshfordgirl · 11 hours ago

Text

GOOD TO KNOW

all the images were taken from pinterest.

where thanks to a problem with her car, she finally meets the boy she exchanges smiles with in the elevator of the building where her grandmother lives.

paring; pedri x reader!

a/n: first time writing for pedri! i really like it. and this was a story that was in my head in portuguese and with central cee as the main character lol but i don't even write for him haha i hope you like it ;)

requests are open | check here my masterlist

Pedri rubbed his eyes as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing, he looked like someone in the desert seeing a mirage. However, you were real, you really were in his friend's mechanic's shop. And it was definitely the place you least wanted to be right now. However, you couldn't choose the day on which your car's engine would stop working.

But the Spanish player was relieved to see you. The voice in his head kept saying, "you're worried about her and you don't even know each other? you're crazy." Yet what could he do? He was used to meeting you at least once a week in the elevator of the building where he lives, but it's been weeks since he last met you.

Pedri has no idea why you disappeared, the college semester has been crazy and you no longer had time to take your grandmother's dog for a walk, as you had promised and had been doing for almost a year.

You remembered Pedri as soon as you saw him sitting with his head against the wall in front of you, "the cute boy from my grandma's building."

You never exchanged words but you did exchange many smiles, enough to make Pedri's heart almost jump out of his mouth every time. And you always enjoyed seeing him, especially when he was wearing Barcelona's tracksuits.

So, as always you smiled at him and he smiled back. But today you felt like talking, and besides, you wanted to try to forget that you would most likely be without a car for a few days.

Pedri saw you approaching attentively, his body was already starting to show signs of nervousness. Your smile was still on your face as you sat down on the empty bench next to him.

"Hi, long time no see."

Pedri heard your voice for the first time, he smiled when he concluded that it suited you perfectly.

"Hi." He looked into your eyes, "Really, and I was thinking you had moved away."

"Oh no, I don't live there, but my grandmother does and I promised to walk her dog once a week."

He nodded.

"You broke the promise."

Pedri's comment made you giggle and he mentally thanked you when he saw you turn your head forward. He admired you, something that only made him more nervous. His eyes helped his brain process every detail of your face, which made him come to the conclusion that he had never seen a woman like you.

"My degree isn't allowing me to go there. At least today I got some time off, and my car too."

You pointed to the car a few feet away.

"He's in good hands, Carlos is a good mechanic."

"I know, he always saves my car. But this is the first time I've seen you here, did your car have a problem too?"

Pedri shook his head, "I left training early today. I didn't feel like going home, so I decided to stop by and see him. He used to play with me in the youth teams."

You were surprised, "So you're actually a Barcelona player? I thought you were just a fanatical fan." You smiled "But now I'm remembering where I've seen you before, I've watched Barcelona games at Camp Nou."

"Barca fan then?" He asked curiously.

"I can say so."

"I need to let you know that the car will be ready today, but it will take about two hours. If you want to leave and come back for it when I call you."

Carlos, Pedri's mechanic friend, stopped in front of you. And the player saw you mutter, "Shit."

"Okay, I'll go to my grandmother's house then. "

You stood up and smiled awkwardly at Pedri and Carlos. The mechanic nodded and walked away while Pedri stood up and stood in front of you with his hands in his pockets.

"I can take you home if you want." He offered.

"No need, I live far away and my grandmother's house is very close. You can stay here with Carlos." You thanked him. "And by the way, my mother would kill me if I got into a stranger's car."

His joke made Pedri quickly lower his head and laugh.

"I swear I'm just a football player and not a psychopath. And I can come back later to talk to Carlos."

It's a half hour walk to your grandmother's house and only 10 hours by car. Pedri's ride isn't a bad idea for you, even if it makes you lay your head on the pillow and think about the dangers you could run into.

"Okay, but know that there are a lot of people who can come after you."

Pedri laughed at his comment once more before walking to his car. He politely opened the door for you to get in. "Thank you." You said before watching him walk towards the driver's seat.

"Do you live in another city but study in Barcelona?" He asked as he started the car. Eyes trained on the street.

"I live in Girona because of my mother and my maternal grandmother, both are not big fans of the hustle and bustle that Barcelona has."

"At least Girona isn't far away."

"Yes, it takes me practically the same distance by car or subway, but it's tiring to make that journey almost every day."

"I can't imagine what that must be like." He looked as he stopped the car at the red light. "But I know that all the effort will be rewarded."

"I hope.''

Seeing Pedrid driving has the same effect as seeing him wearing the tracksuit of the team he plays for. His hands on the steering wheel, the way he moves to look in the rearview mirror. It's a shame the journey is so short.

But Pedri was also bothered by this, he wanted to have more time to get to know you better today. An idea popped into his head as soon as he parked in the building's parking lot.

"Do you have any appointments right now?"

He looked at you hopefully.

"No. Why?"

Pedri bit his lip and looked out the window before answering.

"Want to eat something? There's a place nearby."

"There wasn't enough time for you to kidnap me, was there?" He laughed, "but I accept, I already know where you're going to take me."

"Do you like going there?"

"Love, even more so after a busy week."

And you can watch Pedri backing up and heading towards the café two blocks away. In the upper part of Barcelona.

"Nice view, isn't it?"

Barcelona seen from the top of the hill is something surreal. That's why it's one of your favorite places in the world, the most beautiful city in the world.

"It looks like you."

Flirtatious Pedri appeared. Taking you by surprise and leaving you embarrassed.

"Do you think so?"

"Yeah, I've been thinking about that ever since I first saw you in that elevator."

"And you never thought to tell me?"

"How would I tell you? Wouldn't it be nice to take you by the hand and tell you that you are beautiful."

You laughed at the way he said it.

"You should have, a compliment makes someone's day." He nodded. "But I'm not going to lie, I loved running into you in the elevator."

"And I definitely missed that."

He said as he scratched his chin. Pedri was embarrassed to say that but as he knew it wasn't worth hiding something like that from you.

"Good to know."

#football imagine #football x reader #football one shot #footballer imagine #football blurb #ol imagines #pedri x y/n #pedri x reader #pedri gonzalez fluff #pedri gonzalez imagine #pedri gonzalez x reader #pedri imagine

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cal-daisies-and-briars · 2 days ago

Note

🍎 🍎 🍎 🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎

114 for 🍎:

---

Old friend? Like, from his childhood? Someone who knows a part of Eddie no one else knows? Buck hates them. He hates them! They get to know Eddie. They got more years with Eddie. They get to be here with Eddie when Buck is not!

Wait.

Buck cannot spiral about Eddie’s friendships right now. He came here to spiral about Bobby. He can worry about Eddie replacing him later.

Eddie guides Buck into the house, towards the living room. There is a very handsome man sitting on Eddie’s couch. Like a smoke show, really. Cheekbones and sharp features and… Yeah. Eddie, bless him, probably has no idea how hot his friend is.

“Uh, Manuel, this is Buck,” Eddie says. “Buck just drove from LA because of a, uh, family emergency, so-”

“Say no more,” Manuel smiles, standing. “Nice to meet you, Buck. Eddie, we’ll catch up later.”

Buck doesn’t look at Manuel. He looks at Eddie’s coffee table, where there are two stemless glasses of red wine.

Weird.

Eddie drinks beer with his friends. Maybe tequila. Why is he drinking wine with this guy? Obviously this guy, this Manuel, doesn’t get Eddie. Buck’s doubt is assuaged.

“Bye, Manuel,” Buck says, waving.

Manuel raises a curious eyebrow, but allows Eddie to walk him out. They say a quick goodbye, then Manuel is gone.

Eddie shuts the door and walks back to where Buck is still just standing, staring at him.

“So, by old friend, how old?” Buck asks. “Like, is this your childhood best friend, or…”

Eddie narrows his eyes. “Seriously? You drove across the country with the news that our captain is your biological father only to ask me about how I know Manuel? Nothing I say could be nearly as interesting as what you’re holding onto.”

“You’re right,” Buck says.

“You sit down, I’ll grab beers,” Eddie instructs.

“Not wine?” Buck teases.

Eddie’s cheeks go a bit pink. “Nope. This calls for beer.”

🍎

“Charles Timothy Nash, likely uncle?” Eddie reads the DNA profile match.

Buck nods. “Bobby’s brother. He doesn’t have any other siblings. I’d just met the guy, coincidentally.”

“Wow,” Eddie exhales. “What did Bobby say?”

“Nothing,” Buck replies. “I didn’t tell him.”

“What?” Eddie demands. “Why the hell not?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Buck asks, jaw tensing.

“No!” Eddie exclaims. “Buck, this is the same Bobby who was there for you when you found out you were adopted. Who stood by you through all your injuries when your parents were nowhere to be seen. He already loves you. You already know him. This is a good thing!”

“That’s the exact reason it’s a bad thing!” Buck insists.

“Literally how?” Eddie asks.

“Because he gave me away!” Buck shouts. His eyes spill over with tears. “He is the first person who ever made me feel like I had a home or a place in the world, and it turns out he’s also the first person to leave me.”

Eddie’s shoulders slump. “Buck… He would have been young.”

“Older than you with Chris,” Buck states.

“Yeah, and I’ve done a great job,” Eddie huffs.

“You have,” Buck argues. “Because he knows you love him, even if he’s mad.”

Eddie sighs. “I think you owe it to yourself to hear his side of this. We didn’t even know he had another kid. Maybe he doesn’t either?”

Buck hadn’t considered that. Did Bobby used to be the kind of guy who could get a woman pregnant and not realize? Buck used to be that kind of guy. There’s not a zero percent chance he has a kid out there he doesn’t know about. Maybe he inherited the behavior…

But it doesn’t sit right with Buck. The image he has of Bobby isn’t someone who would ever be like that. Catholic, responsible, very monogamous. But clearly there’s a huge part of Bobby that Buck just doesn’t know at all.

Then there’s the other thing.

What if Bobby finds out, and he’s disappointed? What if Buck is fine as a friend, a coworker, an employee, but not as a son? Buck can and has handled rejection from a lot of people. Including his parents. But he thinks coming from Bobby, it just might kill him.

“No,” Buck says. “I’m not telling him.”

Eddie sighs. “I mean, it’s your choice.”

“Yeah,” Buck agrees. “It is.”

“But, for the record, I think it would go well.”

“Can I stay here for a bit?” Buck asks, ignoring that.

Eddie nods. “You can always stay here, Buck.”

#daisies and briars writes #for all the love you've left behind fic

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