#no one ever has to agree with me ever I blame my roommate for all of this

[velvetures]

Hello loves💕 I still can't get over your writing I'm obsessed!!

I would love to request Roommate König x fem reader. König hears you fucking some guy on the other side of the wall and he can tell you faked it so once the dude is gone he's got you over his shoulder and is walking you to his bedroom to fuck you right. I love the idea of her trying to get him to confess to her and trying anything after months or years of mutual pining, her last resort is to make him jealous.

Overheard

a/n: I'm so sorry for being so slow my love... I always have the worst self-confidence with nsfw reqs. I constantly write them, delete them, and start all over... (this is like... the 8th full-draft retry) So I hope you'll forgive me if this isn't up to standard. Also, I know this trope has been covered by some really talented writers and I hoped to do it justice, and not feel like a carbon copy of something better. (ps. This shit is too long... but I knew if I deleted anything, I'd delete the whole thing over again.)

tw's: 18+ ONLY, nameless hookup, alluded unprotected sex w/side character, unintentional orgasm denial, the reader is mentally not in the best place for sex (disconnected), voyeurism, jealously, fem-oral receiving, fem-fingering receiving, dirty talk, König being a bit of a loser, König omitting his lack of experience, aftercare.

His mom kept saying it was about time to settle down. That the biological clock, normally pushed on women, was ever-present and ticking against his favor. But his sweet, innocent, mother didn’t know the depth of his awkwardness. Not even the slightest idea that her well-mannered boy, turned praise-worthy Colonel was nothing but a bumbling fucking idiot when it came to speaking with women. In the field, sure. He could give orders, discuss tactics, and even bullshit with the best of the best… but if a woman was among those? Oh hell. It was like trying to talk to a brick wall with a randomly developed stuttering issue.

He didn’t understand where it came from either.

It wasn’t like his mother was one of the overbearing types that made dating impossible, and nor did he exactly have the worst time when he was younger with women being interested. It was just… after they showed interest, that became the struggle. Relaxing wasn’t possible. Not when he knew that a woman’s perception of him was far higher than that of any man. Believing that even the smallest of gestures and phrases could earn him an immediate dismissal, and his name or photo being sent in some group-chat to be berated after a first date. He didn’t blame any of the women though… he knew what he looked like. What he sounded like… and God, how miserable his personality was compared to what his career and position would lead others to assume.

A shred of truth could always be found in his mother’s warning though.

He’d gone years without any meaningful relationship where the softer, side of a woman could be found. He found bastardized ways of getting a taste, but he could only allocate so much money a month to porn sites and camgirls without feeling like a total sleaze. The Colonel felt much more confident mapping out a prospective warzone than the contours of a woman’s body, and fuck… it made him more than a little embarrassed to admit. Enough so, that when you mentioned that your rental agreement was coming to an end, and you were trying to find somewhere new to stay, he offered for you to just move in with him.

He owned. Which made the idea of ‘rent’ or you paying it almost unquestionably stupid. It made the deal a little sweeter -in his mind- for you to agree, and then he wouldn’t have to be quite so personally diligent on logging onto online portals to pay utilities. That is, if he could get you to move in. And while in his own mind and body, every synapse screamed that he was being unrealistic, you hadn’t caught on. He’d looked just as stoic and cold as ever when he propositioned that you just start moving over your things into his house. Save money… it’ll be easier for you; He’d said, hard eyes glancing over your face. You thought saying ‘yes’ was anxiety-inducing? König nearly passed out in his office after walking there on numb feet and weak knees.

In the week following, he brought you a small ring of keys, and you started moving your life into his, one cardboard box at a time. And every night after returning from his on-base duties, he would have to physically restrain himself from opening up the taped flaps and getting a peek at the unattended items sitting by the front door. At the time, he thought it was nothing more than unchecked curiosity and instinct to feel-out a new situation. Just simply wanting to learn more about you before you started sleeping over. Merely the soldier in him. But box, by box, that curiosity didn’t dampen down. Even when your items began making their way out of their containers and enmeshing with his around the house.

Tea cups in the kitchen cabinet next to his thicker, coffee mugs. Throw blankets rolled and stacked in the far corning of the couch he rarely sat on. A little rug you’d tossed down in the kitchen in front of the stove with a little floral print that he’d been utterly possessed to not get any stains on while cooking, or by taking off his boots before walking inside. And while never claiming to be a ‘minimalist’ man, he learned right away that his house was nothing short of a hotel when it came to personality.

You’d brought at least five full walls worth of decor. Little trinkets and cute things from all over the world you’d been sneaky enough to stuff into the pockets of your gear. And all of it, had initially been shoved into an empty linen closet he’d been perfect happy with you claiming as your own since it was ‘on your side of the house’. That was, until he found himself noticing that you’d put more than “storage” things away, and had silently refused to put them where they belonged.

On the damn walls.

“I don’t decorate well anyways..” It’d been his excuse… or at least something along those lines. Maybe a little bit more gruff. Guarded. Because even in his own home, he had the tendency of walking around like someone was going to sneak up behind him.

So one week, while he was away, you took the permission and ran with it. Buying the picture hanging kits, and everything else needed to begin covering the Colonel’s walls with your amassed collection of utterly unnecessary, but brain-scratching decorations, art, and collectable junk. Spending a good half hour walking around the halls and rooms with a little smile of accomplishment on your face seeing the colonel’s house feeling more like a home. Totally unaware that he’d been checking the security cameras dotted around, watching you scale a shitty stepladder, climb the kitchen cabinets, and struggle to lift the more heavy items. All the while, growing more and more intrigued with this new arrangement. Debating whether he liked it or not. Rapt attention making the instinctive suggestion that you’d make a good wife far less perverse than he should’ve felt it to be.

Missions took precedence though. And it kept both of you busy more than not. Fully living adjacent instead of in a more dependent role. But there were decidedly small decisions that needed to be made. Like who was in charge of buying groceries, and getting essentials that you both used. König ended up just leaving cash on the counter once a week so you could take care of his end for him. Saving the trouble of a second loaf of bread being bought, or doubling up on paper towels after a miscommunication lead to fifty rolls of the shit needing to be stored somewhere. You did the job more than credibly, and it got you out of the house too.

Which was good, because you rarely left.

Not unlike him, you preferred your time spent in calm situations. Either reading reports, answering emails, and other related tasks before just closing that tab on your laptop and opening up an new one to watch a show or scroll on your phone. You appeared to thrive in his house when you could curl up like some little bird in a nest and just rest. Developing almost permanently sleepy eyes when you came through the door, and a softer tone of voice that took some getting used to. König didn’t exactly understand it. Why your demeanor changed so much within the house, and how it got substantially much more noticeable when your schedules aligned for both of you to be there at the same time.

A solid seven months or more passed before he got his answer. And from your late-night scrolling nonetheless.

Some woman, blabbering on about her husband, and all of the ways that he effected her life once she moved in with him. And, honestly, König wasn’t listening all that much. Having just begun sitting on the other end of the couch with you, since it was where you spent your evenings after dinner. And, it’d become a little bit of a new experience. Just being halfway close to you. Interacting, but not. A safe way to enjoy your presence without any expectations. But that woman on your phone caught his attention when she made the joke about being tired all the time. Tired. Sleepy. All the fucking time. He had to stare down at the TV to keep his head from snapping in your direction.

Apparently it was chemical. Some little thing in the back of a woman’s mind that men didn’t have the complexity to experience the same way. That this woman -and you- were so mentally focused for such a long time, that when the right person was around you, and created a safe space, it acted like a the strongest sleeping pill in existence. Flooding you with dopamine and melatonin to the point that your pretty face got even sweeter with those deep, sleepy looks and constant yawns at all times of the day. Getting a glimpse of you tapping the screen twice, and then tapping at your keyboard to leave a comment only reinforced his inquisitiveness. From the moving boxes, to watching you on cameras while away… and now realizing that you acted so sweet and docile around the house because of him..? He didn’t know how to control himself, and still find a way to keep figuring you out.

Wanting more…

Needing a chance to find out if things could go further than just living in his house.

Dating wasn’t a walk in the park for you either. Call it a hazard of military work. Computers and filing paperwork was more your speed than the guns and blood that König was accustomed to, but it still limited the amount of men who were interested. Especially in the long-term.

It really came down to the uniform and lack of free time that could be allotted to the guys that you did have the fortune to meet. They wanted to take you on dates, and your superiors preferred you stay late to take minutes for a meeting. They always suggested you take a vacation, since it was clear just how tired you were on a daily basis. But vacations were practically a laughable dream you knew wouldn’t come to fruition until you finally were sent the retirement packet everyone in the service dreamed of. But.. on the rare occasion, you did have the energy to entertain a man for a night. Just. One. Night.

Thankfully König was out.

Such good timing considering you’d spent nearly a week, taking your sweet time to wring orgasms out of yourself just for the sheer frustration of getting them, and still not feeling satisfied. Instinctively missing the warmth of skin on skin and the dynamic of having someone else provide and take pleasure from you. Even getting on the app had felt more like a shopping trip than a chance to go on a date. Looking through photos and bios with nothing more on your mind than someone big enough, and pretty enough to make the ordeal worth it. The guy who answered back to your painfully blatant request for a good fuck, didn’t ask any questions either. Just asked politely asked if you wanted to go to him, or vice versa and gave you ample time to get yourself ready before the knock on the front door.

Your mental ruined any chance of having a good time though.

The poor guy sucking at your neck and grunting soft praises was nice… but you couldn’t get into it. Feeling tense. Going through the motions. Foreplay becoming an act of forced moans to reassure the guy genuinely trying to make you feel good, and unable to even make eye contact for a slightly guilty feeling that pervaded your thoughts. Hell, you even refused to have missionary, just to make sure that your facial expressions didn’t have to constantly match the fake whimpers and whines.

John… Joe… Jacob… whatever his name was, he was honestly a sweet guy. Giving your clit attention, no just shoving his cock in you without prep, and actively checking in without making it overbearing. On another day, you’d have really been trying harder to impress him. Give the impression that you were interested in him for more than the sex you couldn’t surrender to. Hope that he liked you enough to stick around. But deep down, you thought better of it. Withholding your feelings to ensure that when he left you alone for the night, that you wouldn’t hate yourself.

König, on the other hand, came home a bit earlier than expected. Walking in the door quietly to expect a silent house, and you sleeping in your bed or on the couch after waiting up for him. Only to be stunned with wet, skin slapping and familiar, pathetic, whimpers getting overrun by deep grunts and low, almost whispered sounds from a man.

God… you were getting fucked.

His whole chest tightened in embarrassment and his face felt hot. You’d never been quite this comfortable… at least to his knowledge. Plenty of nights he had overheard the faint sounds of you getting off alone… soft little moans and gentle hums of a vibrator filtering down the hallway to him. But he’d never heard anything quite that… loud. Even when you fucked yourself on a dildo -he’d always been too curious not to listen intently- the slick sounds of your cunt always made louder noise than your voice. As mortified as he was hearing it… part of him knew something was wrong. Like his whole body was stiff, realizing that you weren’t enjoying it. Faking it… for some unknown reason.

Why couldn’t you say something? Surely you could ask him to… to do something different right? To let you use a toy? Or… or touch your clit? Whatever it took to help you enjoy yourself. But those pinched, almost broken moans starting grating on him within seconds. Stalking towards your bedroom door quietly, and leaning against the wall. Eyes closed and his breath getting heavier with each imagined scene in his head that developed. Picturing him doing all the wrong things… Touching you… tasting you… and living out his own pleasure without the slightest idea that every sound out of your mouth was a fucking lie.

König’s jaw clenched. Resisting a sudden desire to bang on the door or make some other loud noise that would bring this all to an end. Even his fist clenched at his side flinched towards the bedroom door, as if he was insane enough to actually bust in.

What would he even do?

The question rang out a bit too harshly in his mind.

He didn’t have the first idea how to… do better. To make you feel good, or any woman really. Plenty of jealousy rose in his throat at the thought of that bastard fucking you, but he hadn’t even touched a pussy in years. And the last time he did it, he was, pathetically inexperienced. Using his huge fingers to try and prep his partner, but not hitting any of the right spots. Accidentally taking a clinical approach, and it left him feeling like a damn gynecologist instead of a good fuck.

He couldn’t please you, no matter how much he wanted to…

The sobering thought forced him to back away from your bedroom door. But pride alone forced him into the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a glass of scotch in his hand. The last -and unavoidable- line of defense before the front door. No doubt in his mind that if nothing else, he’d get a good look at the man you’d brought home for a disappointing night of sex. Wanting to at least humiliate the bastard for a few seconds. Because while he knew himself to not be an acceptable partner, the guy currently riding out his high in your bedroom wasn’t going to know it. And seeing him -in his daily fatigues- and his hood, would give any man a moment of pause.

You felt sticky. Hot. And more than a little achy in all the wrong ways as Jeff… Josh… whoever the fuck he was, removed himself form your bed and began pulling on his jeans. Watching cautiously as he excused himself into your bathroom -sweetly- offering you a wet washcloth and a too-shy smile for a man who’d just come all over your stomach.

You didn’t bother putting on pants to walk him out to the front door. Too disappointed and stuck in your own head to see König standing in the corner of the kitchen. His dark eyes glaring daggers at your… ‘guest’ who was much more observant, and stood stock still. Shirt in his hands, and forced to raise his gaze more than normal to get the best look at the terrifying man looming in the shadows. It took you far longer than it should’ve. To trace Jonah… Josiah’s… gaze, and recognize your roommate. And even longer to remember that you weren’t wearing pants.

“Hey man…”

You had to give what’s-his-name credit for being as casual as he sounded. Because in all honesty, you were just as taken aback. Shuffling to stand behind the guy just enough that your bare pussy and ass weren’t totally out for him to see.

“Evening…” König sounded… bored? Not his normal tone. “Heading out already?” The guy you were using as a shield, just nodded his head. Looking a bit apologetic, but still anxious.

“Yeah, man…” He pulled his head over his shirt, patting his pockets for the jingle of car keys before glancing back at you with an truly apologetic smile, and a clear unpreparedness for the situation. “I… uh…. thanks for… letting me come over…”

You can’t manage more than a nod. No smile, no reassuring touch to him… nothing. Just a silent acknowledgment and the subsequent scamper over to the couch to grab a blanket to cover yourself up.

Shit… König fucking waved bye…

He didn’t expect you to come out. Nor to get his first-ever look at your pussy. And god it’d taken a lot of restraint not to just stare at you and memorize what he could get get a look at. You just looked soft. So fucking small and soft… A slight sheen of sweat on your face and the roots of your hair damp from the erotic affair.

Too bad it was all an act.

“Thanks for letting him come, huh?” He can’t resist… the guy just hadn’t been cautious enough to not fuel the fire of jealously in him.

Seeing you wrap that blanket around you tighter, avoiding all eye contact, and even turning your side to him a bit… it makes him smile under his hood. An amused one. A sickeningly happy sort of feeling rising in his gut where you appear vulnerable under his gaze. You’re already much more expressive just talking to him than you’d sounded with that bastards cock inside you.

“Didn’t think you’d be back for a while…” Your valid excuse falls a bit flat, especially when those dark brown eyes scan your entire body. He lifts his tumbler of scotch under his hood, nodding before taking a long drink. Feeling a secondary burn that soothes the heat building everywhere else in him.

“I can see that…” He chuckles lowly. To him, it sounds unsure… and maybe tinged with anger, jealously. But on your face, he’s clear that you don’t recognize it. Far too embarrassed to see that there’s just as much uncertainty flooding him as well. “Could hear it too…”

He literally sees your shoulders sink. The wave of embarrassment. Part of him loves it. Knowing you’re experiencing some of the same things he is. That you to, know what it’s like to leave a bed feeling like things didn’t go right, and there’s a guilt that hardens like sediment in your gut. Yet the other half, resists pushing harder. Using this same, defensive, and chastising tone. To give you just a bit of respite, because, he’s not really mad… he’s just fuming with jealously.

“If I knew… I wouldn’t have…” You can’t manage much more. Both of you knowing damn well this wouldn’t have happened if you knew what his arrival was going to be. You always kept so good to his schedules… and not just because this was his house. But because you were so genuinely sweet around him.

“Been so loud?” He suggests, downing the last gulp of his scotch and pushing away from the counter. “Speaking of that…” His gaze lingers on your throat… those faked moans echoing in his mind.

“I didn’t know it was common practice for women to walk their fucktoys to the door… especially when he doesn’t make you come.”

If your stomach was twisting before, there wasn’t a doubt now. And god… you couldn’t tell if it was that he was home, or his voice, or just the edged-feeling of your aching pussy; but König was making you squirm. More than he’d ever done before… and you’d gotten yourself off to the thought of him plenty of times before when no other fantasy had done the trick.

“I finished.” You defend, tightening the blanket around your waist and tucking your bare feet under the excess material pooling on the floor.

König’s eyes blacken, and he laughs lowly. It’s the closest you’ve seen to his behavior when he’s interrogating someone. His power of knowing all the right answers and just dangling the freedom to lie right in front of your face. Maddening, to say the least. And enough to make your thighs flex together.

“I’d like to believe you…” he begins, making leisurely steps closer. “Yet, I’ve spent more nights than I care to admit hearing you come… and what I just hear… is nothing close to the real thing.”

“It’s different with—when it’s not just me.” You gape at him, trying to find anger at the audacity.

Searching for something other than a feeling of arousal knowing that despite your muffled cries into pillows, he’d still heard you at night. Still listened, and if nothing else, knew what your true pleasure sounded like to call you on bullshit. He shrugs, massive hands resting on his hips. Watching them sway a little as he keeps getting closer. Testing the boundary lines you no doubt had. Pushing and prodding at weak spots, and wondering if he can set foot on the living room rug you stood at the center of.

“Different, huh?” The fake acceptance doesn’t last long. “So if I asked for proof… you’d have it?”

“Proof?” You choke out. “What kind of proof could I even give you?” There are plenty running around in your head, all of them raunchier than the previous. But you’re almost desperate to hear him say it.

“Sweetheart, you’ve got the wettest fucking cunt I’ve ever heard,” He growls softly. “You never finish yourself off without making the slickest goddamn noises. Can hear it from down the hallway like it’s playing off my phone.” He adds, voice getting gritty, eyes lowering towards your hips and back up.

“Show me, that is… if he really did make you come.”

Air in your lungs evaporates. God it’s criminal how fucking lewd anything could sound coming from his mouth. And your dry pussy is pathetically getting wetter by the second. Fluttering muscles twitching with each filthy admission he makes. You’re already resorting to putting pressure against your clit by flexing your legs, trying to deny the feelings. Excusing it all by the still-lingering desire for release and not König. Not moving, and a miserable lack of a response forces him to approach faster. Stepping onto the rug serving as a mental barrier for you.

“Embarrassed?” He asks, head tilting a little and stretching the hood to pull away from his chest a little. Putting a bit more of his chest on display in that tight t-shirt.

You shake your head defiantly.

“Oh? Okay then… you should be able to show me then, right? Pretty girl like you, wanting to get fucked… Should be more than willing to brag that you got satisfied. That he left you satiated…”

Your face burns. Debating how to answer. If it’s even smart to try and test your voice in the first place.

“Nothing to see… got-got cleaned up…” God the miserable truth that your no-name partner’s cum was the only thing needing cleaned off of you hits like a punch to the gut.

A massive hand grabs at the blanket in your grip stops all possibility of lying anymore. A warning. Gentle, for sure and meant to be just a small test of consent. However, you too far into this to not want more. He’s just hitting all the right buttons, whether he means to or not.

“How about I… check for myself?” He asks lowly, free hand -covered in a glove- sliding up under his hood and returning into sight with the achingly sexy sight of a huge, scarred hand. His meaning isn’t lost on you, and it’s almost like your cunt floods in anticipation.

“Slide my hand between your pretty thighs, and see just how good he treated you…” He murmurs, trailing fingers down the two sides of the blanket pulled together. “Let me see if that pussy is fucking drenched like she deserves to be.”

“König.” You warn softly, eyes darting down to his hand and back to his eyes.

Not the slightest bit worried about him touching you. Not at all. But about what would happen after all the tension faded. What would come of your relationship if you fucked… or, just made things complicated in general.And he pauses, looking to you a bit cooler. His breathing still heavy, and laden with emotion.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

You’re desperate to think of a way to explain yourself, but the most basic, stupid, comment comes out of your mouth.

“I don’t want this to end badly.”

He straightens just a bit. But his hands don’t move. And while from your perspective, it seems he’s hesitating on whether or not to continue, that’s not what’s got him stuck mere inches away from slipping his fingers between your folds.

He’s worried you know. That you’ve caught on to his inexperience, and are merely defending yourself from a second bad experience in one night. And god it makes this throat burn. Desperate to defend himself and prove that while -yes- he’s more than a little bit lost when it comes to the manual process, he’s still going to be the most teachable fucking man you’ve ever met.

“I’ll listen so well…” He eventually mutters, stepping just a bit closer. Voice lowering and a hint of desperation entering it. “Can—can give you everything you want… Just need to tell me…” he adds, unable to look you in the eyes.

It’s not exactly what you were expecting to hear, but it still strokes that burn between your thighs. Especially when his hands grip your hips through the blanket wrapped around you. Groping softly, massaging at the fat over your muscles and feeling hungry just to touch you.

“I… I don’t want things to be awkward afterwards.” You try to reexplain. Hoping the clarification will help him see why you hadn’t already leaned into his commanding touch.

“Awkward,” he repeats, as if it’s a foreign idea. Like it’d never crossed his mind. “Don’t plan on ignoring you anymore… Not—Not after hearing that… and knowing… fuck…”

“He couldn’t have listened… please tell me you tried to tell him what to do… what you wanted,” His rambles get more panicked. Like every thought in his head is equally important and he can’t take the time to pick one and let me even answer. “Should’ve asked what your pussy needed… how to make you feel good… make those pretty sounds..”

You’re half dazed just watching his breathy words fan the material of his hood to react to his boot kicking your feet apart. Wide hand sliding between your thighs and groaning. A deep, guttural sound that reminds of him being winded. And really… he probably should be. Because your inner thighs are dry to the touch. The wetness he’d been creating still not enough to make much fuss over. But he’s not satisfied with that alone. Immediately curling a finger to spread your lips, feeling the thick, slick of new arousal that had been nothing, if not his doing.

“Ohh, you poor baby…” He sighs lowly, head rolling back at the mere sensation of your pussy under his fingertips. Feeling you a bit anxiously, yet getting a buzz in the back of his skull when your hole pulses against his prodding touch. “Left you so fucking hot…”

It’s a fast movement but he’s got you off your feet and dropped down onto the couch in one swift move. Your back arched in the slumped position and the blanket that’d been covering your -pathetic- modesty, fluttered open on both sides of your hips. Leaving your core exposed to his hungry and heavy-lidded eyes. Letting out a little whine of a sound when he slowly drops to a knee; tracing his hands down your inner thighs like he was scared of touching you too harshly.

“König, please…” You gasp out, watching his thumb run over your swollen labias. Pinching your fat lips together softly and inadvertently putting delicious pressure on your swollen clit. He curses under his breath, free hand grabbing your thigh with bruising strength.

“Tell me how to please you,” He commands, eyes flashing dangerously wide in the icy moonlight streaming through the living room windows. “I need to make you come.”

His desperate, and knows you can see it. His whole body shakes seeing your flushed pussy a mere foot away from his face, and nothing but opportunity and his hood preventing him from burying his face in it. Watching as you shyly reach for his wrist, guiding his hand where you want it. Extending his fingers and whimpering when your motion for him to rub small circles over your clit sends those to-intense waves of pleasure through your pussy.

“Like that… just like that…” You’re able to praise with a shaky nod of your head.

Rocking your hips in tandem with his movements and nearly crying out in relief when he diligently keeps the same pressure to you despite your little twitches and grinds. Allowing you the freedom to plant your feet on the edge of the couch and simply feel. König’s lost in it. Lost in the sight of you. Your pretty mouth gaping open and your hips chasing the touch he’s providing. His breath catching when you cry out or give a weak praise for his work. Like you’re enjoyingwhat he’s doing.

But god he’s happy to stay right where you want him, how you want him. Feeling his knee dig into the harsh floorboards, and ignoring it with a refreshed feeling of duty he’d long lost as a soldier. Never had he been given such a pretty fucking prize to work for. Nothing as sweet as seeing your cunt drip from his rough fingers rubbing soft, almost too-soft circles over it. Not even realizing that he’d spent almost fifteen minutes just rubbing your clit lazily when your hand reaches back down. Happy to direct him yet again, especially when he doesn’t even need a verbal direction to do exactly what you want.

“Fingers,” You whisper through panting exhales. “Give me your fingers…”

Your little hand grabs his pointer and middle fingers, spreading your own slick over them like a goddamn professional before guiding him down to your aching hole. Letting go just long enough to feel the thick digits press though that first little ring of tightened muscle. Forcing your eyes open to witness his mostly-hidden expression as he sinks knuckle deep inside of you.

“So fucking pretty,” His head shakes a little, lost in the creamy slick gathering at the base of his fingers as he curls him up towards your pelvis just a little. Subconsciously scared to do the wrong thing, but desperate to keep your cunt flex and mold to his touch. “Tell me, sweetheart… show me what she needs.”

You’re too possessed to chase your high to not listen. Readjusting your bent legs on the couch to gently lift your hips and sink them back down. Slowly getting used to the feeling of his thick fingers, already deeper than your no-name partner. Groaning when they bump into your g-spot just hard enough to make your clit burn. Grinding against his hand and keeping one hand wrapped around his wrist just to try and ground yourself to the present situation. Lost in the rhythm of fucking yourself -quite literally- stupid within mere minutes. Beginning to hear that vulgar, sucking sound of your pussy gripping his fingers and utterly drooling over his palms.

König’s helpless to so more than sing your praise. “That’s a good girl… so good for me. Using me like a fucking toy.”

It’s the best he’s felt in a long time. Watching you take from him. Too absorbed to even think about anything other than yourself. Not in enough control to even worry about the true moans and yelps escaping you. Real pleasure wracking your body and burning every nerve ending.

“More… please more…” You cry softly, hips slowing to a painfully sexy grind as you squeeze the tendons in his wrist with your thumb.

König takes a little more initiative than he’s normally comfortably using, but adds a third finger. Slowly pumping them in and out, little by little, to help you adjust. Watching as your eyebrows pinch together in focus. A low growl rumbles in his chest, his mouth practically watering as your cunt sucks him in.

“Let me taste it, baby…” He huffs, head flinching forwards before backing off, repeating the action a couple more times. “Wanna help… just—just let me taste you…”

You clench around his fingers when he rests his cheek against your inner thigh. Big, wide eyes pleading with you so innocently like he isn’t stretching your hole wider than the biggest of your toys can with nothing but a few fingers. Forcing you to slow the roll of your hips, a shaky hand reaching out to cup his face through the mask. Rubbing a thumb over his hidden cheekbone with a little whimpered hum. Pulling his head closer to you, hissing when the hem of his hood merely grazes your clit.

“How’d you want it?” He asks, head down and pulling his mask up so you’re stuck. Forced to merely feel his mouth so close to you, and not see the shape of his mouth.

“Lick-lick my clit… s-soft…” You whine, eye shutting when the hot fan of his exhale his your fevered skin.

Holding his head steady with one hand, you almost coming up off the couch when his tongue makes one, long, lazy, lap between your folds. Gripping at the material of his hood just tight enough that he ends up ripping the whole thing off. Tossing it to the floor with an aggressive snarl that rumbles against your clit. Sparks of pleasure forcing your thighs apart and jerking your hips back up. Chasing his mouth. The rough texture of his tongue, and the slight graze of his teeth against your slicked folds.

Your orgasm approaches fast from there. Between his fingertips stroking you deep, and the new rhythm of his tongue lapping your slick up to massage your clit, it’s hard to even warn König that he can’t stop for risk of ruining your long-awaited release.

“König… K… oh… fuucckk…”

Your back arches tightly, both hands grabbing harshly at his hair with an unintelligible shout as you come. Jerking wildly and one of your feet losing it’s hold on the edge of the couch. Trying to fight through the shocks of pleasure, and groaning curses with a hoarse throat. Feeling König’s free hand latch onto your thigh to keep you from running away too far from his still-working lips and tongue. Sucking up the wet drips of release trying to drip down his hand.

“Slow, slow down.” You whimper, pushing at his forehead just a little. The pressure too much. The stretch of his fingers still satisfying but overstimulating.

Your so fucking grateful that he doesn’t fight you on it, or force you to try for another. And maybe it’s just the mere sight of you. abdominal muscles twitching, forcing your upper body to do baby-curls with each flex of your pulsing cunt. Toes curled and an all-over buzzing sensation making it hard to even make sense of where your limbs are in relation to the rest of your body, much less König or the couch your hardly laying on.

“You okay, sweetheart?” His softened voice almost gives you emotional whiplash, especially when he bends over you forehead resting against yours softly.

Gently removing his fingers with murmured apologies when your little winces mar your pretty features. Both hands sliding up your sides to help lift you back onto the couch, moving to sit himself next to you just long enough to reposition your body on his lap. Pulling that blanket back over your bottom half and maneuvering your cold, tingling feet between his thighs like he can tell they’re freezing. He presses soft kisses all over your forehead and nose. Rocking you softly and squeezing at the muscles in the back of your neck reassuringly.

“You needed that… needed to feel good…” he murmurs almost lovingly.

You nod dumbly, laying your head against his shoulder. Letting out soft nearly unconscious whimpers and a soft repetition of his name in cum-drunk appreciation.

“Told you I could listen… could be good for you,” He adds, almost like he’s reassuring himself of the idea. “Wanted to be better than him. Needed to prove it.”

He holds up your weighty head, stabilizing it with care and a sickeningly sweet look of devotion in his eyes.

“You’re never going to fake it again, sweetheart.”

reblogs & comments are always appreciated <3

[blue-jisungs]

hello! i hope 2024 has been treating u well!

can i request where jaemin is ur new roommate and ur sorta pessimistic abt him for awhile cuz of his cats? then one day its just u and his cats and then u start warming up to them, not knowing that jaemin was watching the whole time please!

so sorry if this is too specific but thank u if u see this!!

cats and pizza

author's note. hi anonnie! sorry it took so long :( 2024 has been quite nice for me teehee, i hope it has been for u too <3 also this was so fun to write as someone who absolutely adores cats 😭

setting. vet med student !jaem x fashion designer student!yn

warnings. one of the cats pisses lol, pizza, swearing, yn doesn’t like cats and talks bad about them >:(

“oh come on, it’ll be fine! he looks nice and he’s a veterinary medicine student? come on, he must be… normal… i think” renjun hummed, looking through your shoulder at the text you got.

you rested your forehead against his arm and groaned while he took your phone and replied to the message.

“you need a roommate. stop being picky… besides, he’s not gonna be any weirder than the chenle guy… probably. hopefully” renjun cheered you on and patted your head.

your previous roommate, karina, had to move out so now you were in a desperate search of someone at her place because there’s no way you could single-handedly afford the rent. the landlord didn’t mind as long as it was paid so you could choose whoever you wanted.

but once you put the offer online, the amount of people and interviews crushed you. the rent was almost due and you had to hurry up – but it wasn’t your fault that all the interested individuals were… specific.

but getting a text from a guy named jaemin drew your attention. he wasn’t dry like all the previous guys and said that he’ll adapt into your schedule to come see the place – unlike others who set up the date and you didn’t have much choice.

you agreed to meet today and brought your bestie, renjun, as a moral support. and additional eye of judgement.

a knock on your door caused you to jerk up.

“it’s probably him” you sighed and ran to open the door “hi—”

your voice got stuck in your throat as your eyes met with a very handsome guy. a gummy smile bloomed on his lips as he reached his hand out.

“hi, i’m na jaemin! y/n, i assume?” he asked, voice full of positive energy. renjun appeared behind you.

“i… oh, right, you know my name. yes, y/n” you cleared your throat and shook his hand. it was warm and bigger than yours.

“renjun” your friend grunted and accidentally nudged your shoulder.

“i’ll show you around. do you want some water or anything to drink?” you asked nicely, stepping aside to let him in. while jaemin and you couldn’t take your eyes off each other, renjun let out a sigh.

“do you have any questions?” your friend asked, crossing his arms.

“oh, yeah! are pets allowed? cats specifically?” jasmin asked and you froze.

well, technically yes.

but you just weren’t a big fan of felines. they are just… mean. and ignorant.

but jaemin is so cute and–

“no”

“yes”

you looked at renjun surprised when you two spoke out at the same time. jaemin laughed (and goodness, if it wasn’t the prettiest thing you’ve ever heard), throwing his head back slightly.

“yes they are. i’m just more of a dog person, you see” you hummed. jaemin sent you a warm smile.

“don’t worry, they’re lovely” he reassured you and renjun urged to show him the room.

and you blame renjun to this day for that because if you were to listen, you would’ve paid attention and noticed that jaemin had said ‘they’.

was one of your main factors to settle for jaemin the fact that he was charming and handsome? yes. did you think he only has one cat? yes.

much to your surprise, along with a new roommate you got three cats as a bonus.

standing terrified in the middle of kitchen you watched one of them snuggle against your leg as jaemin watched with amusement.

“they are real angels. i promise they won’t cause any trouble” he hummed.

you moved away from the cat but it followed you, looking at you with its big, blue eyes.

“just for the love of god please… make sure they don’t shit in the kitchen. or come anywhere near my room” you murmured, jaw clenched. if that furry thing of a demon is going to brush against you again–

the cat must’ve somehow understood that and it purred, tail wrapping around your leg.

“go… away…” you whined, stepping back yet again.

“luke, c’mon” jaemin sighed and grabbed the cat in his arms. the beast animal was looking at you with a mischievous expression. a shiver run down your spine as you looked away, and a meow came somewhere from the distance.

the sound of happy little feet kept you awake at night. lucy, luna and luke (it was hard not to remember the names since jaemin had them engraved on almost everything) were playing around in the hallway. at 3am.

pressing a pillow to your ear and pulling the duvet over the other, you cursed mentally at your own stupidity. you hated cats, why would you even agree? sure, jaemin is really cool and there certainly is something between you two but the goddamn furry beasts…

a loud meow came from under your door.

and then a scratching sound.

“you have to be kidding me” with a groan, you left the bed and opened the door only to be met with a pair of evil looking cat.

“luna- lucy, whoever you are… get your ass out of here” you grunted and tried to whoosh the cat away. but it only meowed and tried to come into your room “no!”

it was middle of the night, you should be asleep and getting your well needed rest for today’s exam.

but you’re closing the door and fighting with a feline.

great, just great.

“jaemin!” you yelled out, not bothered by the fact that you’ll wake him up “na jaemin, get ahold of your goddamn furry devils!”

you heard his hurried footsteps and when he reached to hold the cat up, you noticed he’s not even angry in the slightest.

“luke, c’mon, no scratching the door. sorry, y/n. sleep well” jaemin hummed softly and walked away with the pet in his arms, scratching it’s head gently.

as much as you’d like to say that you warmed up to the cats it just wasn’t… very true. you just accepted their presence. you even refilled their bowls a couple of times or threw them a squeaky toy.

as long as they didn’t interfere with your personal space, you didn’t with theirs.

which you were glad for.

“i’m back! i have some leftover pizza if you’d like!” you yelled out, not even sure if he was home.

you went to leave the pizza in a safe space (you totally didn’t save it because you knew it was his favorite) and walked towards your room.

something was off - it was very quiet in the apartment. and… it smelled…

pushing the door open you saw lucy jump off your bed.

“what?” you grunted, noticing how the cat ran past you. before you realised the smell, you saw the source: cat urine.

on your uni project.

“no, you’ve got to be shitting me” your voice broke, walking up to the handmade material for a dress. it was certainly pissed on.

but how did the cat end up here? you closed the door to prevent exactly such thing from happening.

tears were falling from your eyes, feeling helpless.

lucy was peeking at you from behind the door cautiously. maybe she sneaked in before you left and then you accidentally locked her in? yeah, that’s the only possible reason.

but that doesn’t make the situation any better (or the cloth any less stinky)

“ew… y/n…”

you heard jaemin’s mocking voice but the moment you turned around and he saw your quivering lip, his face dropped.

“what happened?” jaemin asked, walking in.

“i… lucy peed on my dress… which was my project for tomorrow… i don’t know what to do…” whines and sobs ripped out of your chest. jaemin sighed, eyeing the situation.

the said cat meowed as if saying sorry.

then, you felt two warm arms wrapping around your shaking body.

“it’s going to be fine, i’ve dealt with this countless of times before” he said calmly, fingers caressing your hair “let me handle this”

you sobbed into his chest – maybe from the stress of relief – and jaemin continued to soothe you, his cat watching you two curiously.

this day was shitty as hell. it’s been two weeks since the pee accident and luckily you managed to save your project. and whereas that made your mood lighten up, today was just a bad day.

you lost $20, dropped your phone and cracked its screen, and on your way back home rain started pouring and soaked you completely.

the warmth of your place was nice and made you feel secure. the second you stepped inside, you broke down.

everything just snapped and you sat down on the floor, careless to the fact that all the water is pooling around you.

cries left your lips, tears mixing with the raindrops on your face.

suddenly, something warm and fluffy crawled on your lap.

at first you wanted to push it away but upon meeting luna’s blue eyes staring at you cutely, you didn’t. you let her stay, unsurely resting your hand and her head. when she purred, you took it as a sign to let her.

sobs mixing with purrs drew the other two, lucy snuggling next to you, pawing the material of your sweats, and luke staring at the scene.

the cats silently comforted you, it hit you.

because of that, you started crying even more; feeling bad about the way you treated them before.

the quiet sound of door opening fell deaf on your ears.

jaemin looked down and his heart warmed upon the scene. he was proud of his kids, they reacted the same way he would.

“i have some pizza, i figured you’d want some” he announced quietly and you nodded.

maybe that’s all you needed after all: cats and pizza.

masterlist <3

taglist. @l3visbby ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @planetkiimchi ,, @mon2sunjinsuver ,, @w3bqrl ,,

@eternalgyu ,, @haecien

[maximoffgxrl]

hi i’m not sure if you still take requests but would if you ever have time a yelena belova x reader (platonic) with lots of cuddling and kisses? just a whole ton of fluff and it doesn’t need to be too long? if you can’t/don’t want to do it that’s totally fine but i have such a soft spot for sweet yelena <3

Home {Yelena Belova}

Pairing: Yelena x gn!reader (platonic)

Summary: Yelena arrives from a mission and all she really wants is you

Note: yelena is the best i swear <3 hope you like it! this request has been sitting on my drafts for months, but now it’s finally here!!! so, enjoy 💕

You sighed as you flipped another page on your book, a pink highlighter on your hand and a bunch of loose pages resting in your lap. Were you studying on a friday night again? Yes. Sure, you had promised to yourself that this kind of nerdy behaviour would be left behind in high school, but who could blame you? It's not like you had anything else to do and you actually enjoyed studying.

- Oh, absolutely not. - a familiar voice with a thick accent sounded behing you and you smiled.

- Hey, Yelena. - you turned your head towards the voice, seeing the blonde girl climbing out the window. - Nice to see you're home again. And still unable to use the door.

- I already told you, sometimes I need to climb the window so I can make sure that no one else can climb the window. It is science. Just like your book. - she said, taking off her shoes and coat, her cheeks red from the cold weather. - Now, what are you doing reading a book? When I left, a whole week ago, you were doing that exact same thing.

- Well, I have to. It’s called studying. And if it helps, it was a different book last week. - you answered, watching as the blonde went straight for the kitchen. - But I wanna know about you. Your super secret mission went well? Where were you, after all? Now you can tell me, right?

- Bolivia. And yes, it went well. No one blew me up and it was not for lack of trying. - she said, frowning at the refrigerator. - Now, tell me, Y/N, this studying of yours does not require eating? There’s nothing in here.

- I was planning on ordering something later and I didn’t know you were coming home today. - you said, finally closing the book and resting your head against the armchair. - What do you mean they were trying to blow you up? Are you okay?

- Peachy. - Yelena said, sitting on the sofa. - I wasn’t even shot this time. It’s a big win.

- I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this. - you glanced at her with your eyes a little widened. You still remembered when, a year ago, Yelena showed up holding your announcement and asking if you were the one looking for a roommate. At the time, you didn’t knew you were getting a best friend and a giant headache all in one person. - You know, every time you leave I get worried sick.

- That is very sweet, Y/N Y/L/N, but you don’t have to worry. I am the best, so yeah, no danger here. - she smiled and you held back a laugh. Yelena could be so unintentionally conceited sometimes. - Now, will you please stop with the books, order some pizza and watch a movie with me? I missed you a lot.

- Own, Lena, I missed you too! - your heart melted at the russian’s words, smiling at her. - I’ll just bring this stuff to my room and then we can watch anything you’d like, okay?

She agreed with her head and you piled up all your books, papers and pens and carried them to your room, leaving it all on your desk. Fishing a blanket out of your closet, you picked up your phone and went back to the living room, sitting comfortably in the armchair again as you dialed the number of the pizza place you guys always ordered from.

- The pizza will be here in 40 minutes! - you yelled to make sure Yelena would hear you and went back to your phone, waiting for the girl to come back.

A few minutes later, she showed up in sweatpants and a My Little Pony white t-shirt, her hair wet and carrying a sweet lavender smell. She used your shampoo, but you didn’t really care, just watching as she practically fell onto the couch, resting her head against the pillows.

- So, what are we watching? - you asked, toying with the remote.

- Can we watch the one with the sirens again? You know, the one with the song that was stuck in my head for like a month? - she asked with big puppy eyes.

- Barbie A Mermaid Tale? - you asked with a laugh. Yelena was a big Barbie fan, but she specifically loved this one. - I think we’ve seen this at least five times.

- Please? It’s my favorite! - she pleaded, holding her hands together. - I love the evil fish.

- Okay, okay. But I’ll choose the next one.

- YES! - she exclaimed in pure delight, making you laugh again. If there was something you loved about Yelena, was her almost childlike joy about the little things in life. It was adorable.

You were about to press play when she cleared her throat, making you look in her direction only to find her already staring at you, brows furrowed.

- What? - you asked, a little confused.

- Aren’t you forgetting something? - she asked, rolling her eyes at your absolutely lack of perception. - Cuddling, Y/N Y/L/N, you’re forgetting the most important part of a movie marathon. Get your ass on this couch right now.

You couldn’t help but smile as you got up, laying beside the blonde on the couch and throwing your blanket over the two of you. It wasn’t long until Yelena’s arm was around your waist and the russian’s cheek was resting against your head. You hummed in contentment, feeling relaxed and warm and safe, like you always were with her.

- Now you can start. - she said simply as she placed a kiss against your forehead, making your heart melt all over again.

- It’s nice to have you home. - you said softly, grabbing the blonde’s hand and kissing her knuckles. - You know I love you, right?

- Yeah, you big softie, I love you too. - she said rolling her eyes as she kissed your cheek. - Now shush, my movie is starting.

You just smiled, too enthralled in the feeling of being in Yelena’s arms. She was home now, and it was all that mattered. After all, she was your home.

[amateurmasksmith]

Scare Care

Chapter One: Poltergeist in the Parlor

a/n: comments are appreciated! :)

inspiration: this post

Virgil had a very strange job.

He’d had a few odd jobs by now, just taking whatever would pay - pizza delivery, helpdesk, dog walking (he did actually like that one; it’s how he met his best friend) - But as he stood with a notebook in yet-another stranger’s living room, he couldn’t help but figuratively step back and realize the sheer absurdity of his situation.

“I can’t believe I’m arguing with a poltergeist about Disney movies,” he said, pinching his nose.

“Anyway! We’re getting off-track,” Virgil looked down at his notepad, skimming the section ‘Reason for Call.’

Thomas, his client, had put in a call last week - A skeptic (like Virgil’s roommate - though that seemed to be where the similarities ended), he sounded like many other skeptics he’d heard calling in - Confused, anxious…

Desperate.

He didn’t blame them, really - any of them. Some customers were assholes, true, but ignorance? Fear? That he could help with.

A lot of the time, it didn’t even take anything particularly special to resolve the paranormal problems he was called for - If it was dangerous, then yeah, he could call in backup - But usually, it was a matter of having just enough otherworldly knowledge to understand the problem, and the patience and empathy to guide his clients toward a solution.

…he was still working on that last part.

He had a fancier title on his resume, but Virgil liked to think of his job as an underglorified paranormal help desk or field tech.

Though, to be fair, the computer-based field techs were underglorified, too.

God, he was glad to be out of that job.

Thomas’ case was, luckily, a simple one-

“Ugh, fine - I suppose, if you- we can’t agree on the best prince, then… how about ‘Which movie has the best songs?’”

Well. Mostly.

“Black Cauldron.”

Virgil took the beat of sweet, blessed quiet to pivot towards Thomas. “When did this all start?”

Over the prince-preoccupied-poltergeist’s sputtering, Thomas answered, “Since I moved in! Before, even - I don’t remember exactly when.”

Roman scoffed, crossing his arms. “Try ‘ever since I ruined the perfect arrangement of an innocent, handsome, good-taste-having man’s antique furniture collection!’ ” he said, theatrically imitating and exaggerating Thomas’ mannerisms.

Sometimes Virgil regretted not going after that banishment cert.

He sighed - The old-fashioned way it was.

…Talking. Gross.

“Furniture?” He questioned toward Thomas.

“I- I mean, yeah? I moved the couches a bit?”

“A BIT?!” Princey screeched. “You shoved them! My darling babies almost ended up in the kitchen - and that is no place for antique leather!”

Virgil blinked confusedly, looking at the layout of the apartment.

While the kitchen and living room were next to each other, there was a partial corner and a half-high-wall/breakfast counter… thing, decidedly blocking the way into the kitchen.

Also, surprisingly, Roman was right - a kitchen was no place for a couch.

So why…?

Thomas, seeing the confusion written on their faces (and indignation, in Roman’s case), looked away sheepishly, rubbing his neck.

“I… may… have been… trying… to make a blanket fort.”

The princely poltergeist let out what Virgil could only describe as a squeal. “Oooh! That sounds fun!”

He clapped his hands twice - For the theatrics, Virgil assumed, since poltergeists didn’t have to use somatic elements for most interactions - and began moving the furniture around the living room.

Virgil and Thomas exchanged looks that said “Seriously?” and “Eh, works for me,” respectively.

Well. At least that was resolved.

Now onto the second-worst part: On-site paperwork.

“So- uh. You guys are good, then?” Virgil asked.

Thomas popped his head up from behind a couch where he was tucking in the corner of a blanket.

“Huh? Oh, uh. Yeah!” Thomas grinned.

“Awesome.” He opened his bag that he’d left on the end of the banister, and took out a clipboard and form after filling out a few fields. “I just need a signature, then I’ll be out of your hair.”

Thomas grunted as he stood up, and Virgil handed him the form. “I know a bunch of other places do this all digital, but we gotta keep it old-school ‘cause of electronic interference.”

“Also,” Virgil kept going despite himself, “I’ve read through everything, it’s just a statement of work done, reaffirmation of the disclaimer on the website, stuff like that.”

He gestured vaguely with one hand as Thomas signed and dated the paper with the pen Virge had tied to the clipboard. “I mean, I’m no lawyer, but it all looks fine to me.”

“No, yeah, I trust you,” Thomas said off-handedly as he finished.

Virgil mentally stumbled backwards for a moment before replying.

“I- cool. Yeah,” Virgil rubbed the back of his neck as he took the offered clipboard. “Thanks.”

Virgil mostly tuned out Thomas and Roman’s excited chattering as he slid the clipboard back into his bag, and slipped the strap over his head to rest on his shoulder - something about a marathon?

“Hey, uh-“ Thomas started, noticing Virgil gearing up to leave. “Thank you,” he grinned. “That was really cool!”

Huh. Most people thought it was scary or weird. Satanic panic and all that.

“I - Thanks,” Virgil said, not sure how to respond.

“Oh, yeah, also,” he said, fishing into his hoodie pocket for a scrap of paper (hoodies weren’t regulation, but some rules were stupid).

“That spell probably won’t last through a whole marathon - ‘bout two hours, how I did it,” he continued, writing some info on the back of the receipt he got from a Thai place last week.

“You could just call us back out, but - between you and me,” he handed the note over, “You’d get more bang for your buck with a kit from the coven on Stoughton Street - ask for Nicole, tell her I sent ya.”

Thomas grinned as they walked towards the door - seriously, how did he keep doing that?? “Awesome-sauce! Thank you, Virgil!”

God, this guy’s almost as much of a goober as Patton. He couldn’t help but chuckle as he stepped outside. “Thanks, Thomas.”

“No, thank you!”

Virge turned around once he buckled on his helmet, grabbed his bike and stepped off the porch, and gave Thomas a two-finger salute, which he returned.

“See ya,” he said, mounting his bike.

As Virgil pedaled away, watching the sunset, he couldn’t help but wonder if he’d see Thomas again.

He hoped he would.

[eddieisashifter]

: ̗̀⁍ 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐑 — ​🇲​​🇾​ ​🇸​​🇭​​🇪​​🇷​​🇱​​🇴​​🇨​​🇰​ & ​🇨​​🇴​ ​🇷​​🇪​​🇦​​🇱​​🇮​​🇹​​🇾​

❝a name is whispered in certain circles. a consulting criminal mastermind with hands in every europeon underworld—going by the alias of the "professor". a spider with a web so vast that even the most protected of people fall into it. the professor's network includes an assassin nicknamed the "raven". no one has seen their face, no one knows their name. but may whatever god you pray to help you if you end up in their sights. you can't fight a ghost.❞

EDMUND JAMES MORIARTY — SON OF THE PROFESSOR, APPRENTICE CONSULTING DETECTIVE he/they male 🇬🇧🇮🇪 18 years old homosexual

: ̗̀⁍ ❝have you met sherlock's apprentice? yeah, the kid's a little creepy. like a mini version of his mentor with a more nonchalant demeanor. he always seems to be laughing about something to himself, walking with that sway in his step, even in the middle of a crime scene. and, if he fixes his sharp eye on you, he'll deduce all your secrets.❞

father issues are one thing, being the son of a criminal mastermind is another.

born and raised as a moriarty, I lived and breathed my father's business for most of my childhood. I even was his trusted heir, obviously destined to be is right hand and, eventually, take over for him in my adult years.

however, I never felt right. like there was a part of myself that I was missing. an individuality that I was without.

and, after a taste of the outside world, I knew I couldn't stay any longer. I tried to convince my sister, eden, to come with me. but, she refused. though, she didn't blame me for my choice.

i was left stumbling and alone, but I never felt more free in my life.

through a series of serendipitous events, I came into contact with one sherlock holmes. the detective was like no one I'd met before, and I envied him slightly. his circumstances, his life. so, I inserted myself into it. upon seeing my skill and intellect, sherlock took me on as his apprentice, agreeing to teach me everything he knew and allowing me a place to stay in the upper room of his flat.

and it was everything I'd ever wanted. a way to use my skills and intelligence to help people rather than hurt them.

I wasn't sure how I felt about sherlock getting a roommate at first. but, john watson is a hard person to hate. his easy-going personality was exactly the contrast sherlock and I needed to bounce off of on our cases. and mariana ametxazurra (not mrs. hudson! get it right, sherlock!) surprised me with how much we connected.

for the first time in my life since I'd left eden behind, I had real friends who I felt like understood me.

however, I didn't expect sherlock to go viral, and me along with him. new clues at crime scenes are making it seem as though my father is starting to put his hand into our cases. he's playing another one of his games, one that will not only expose me, but put my new friends in certain danger. they'll only be safe when james moriarty is gone.

the game is afoot.

now playing.... the killer in the mirror — set it off 0:37 ──⚬──── 3:36 ⇆ ◃◃ ıı ▹▹ ↻

next in 221B baker street queue;

father — the front bottoms jigsaw — conan gray catch me if you can — set it off loser — neoni like him — tyler, the creator wolf in sheep's clothing — set it off sometimes — nick lutsko nobody's soldier — hozier big man, little dignity — paramore

divider cred: thecutestgrotto (🎪 back to the circus itinerary. . .)

[redfurrycat]

🤠🛖🛏️🐓And They Were Roommates & Only One Bed Fic Recs🐓🛏️🛖🤠

Check the Top Gun Masterlist post for the latest updated version. 💕

Ao3 Authors: Barnes_Brain, Billpaxton, Coconutcordiale, Crueltether, Davidbyrne, Dracculaura, Dvrco, Emseebeans, Fridaynightlife, Fuddlewuddle, Halestrom, Honestlydarkprincess, Imafriendlydalek, Indybob, Iprefervillains, Lesbiseresin, Liass21, Nickies_Nonsense, ReformedTsundere, ReiverReturns, RosannaDrinksToForget, Sceld, Sreshaw, Teacupivy, Trinipedia, Vannral, Violation_of_faith_and_devotion, WaffleToaster, Writerofthelorde, Yourstrulytay.

I'll ride in this life with you by Fuddlewuddle {E}

Rooster is called back to Top Gun along with 11 other pilots for an important mission. Not only does he have to deal with the unresolved issues with Maverick now the Captain is going to be the one training them, but he's also been assigned to live with the one person who seemingly lives to infuriate him; Hangman. He'll be lucky if he even makes it to fly in the mission in the first place.

Squadron Scorpion by RosannaDrinksToForget {E}

Maverick, Rooster, Hangman, Phoenix, Bob, Fanboy and Payback make up the Deadly Seven more widely known as Squadron Scorpion. Maverick isn't done teaching and the young pilots aren't done learning. Things can't get any worse when Rooster and Hangman of all people are forced to room together. They waited in silence. Each catching a breath. "Rooster, still with me?" "Still alive, but barely."  "I... I think I need this." "I don't think I can live without it."  "Glad we agree on something." Or maybe for the better.

Don’t You (Forget About Me) by Barnes_Brain {M}

When Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw was 14 his mother passed away, leaving him an orphan in an ever changing world. With no other family, and Maverick halfway across the world, Tom “Iceman” Kazansky took over as primary guardian. Through hard work and extreme perseverance Bradley reached Top Gun at age 27, even with Maverick pulling his papers. Take that asshole. But now that he’s at Top Gun he’s going to find if he has what it takes to be one of the best pilots in the world. That includes learning how to work with a team he doesn’t know, and doesn’t know if he can trust. Especially his obnoxious roommate who he can’t help but stare at. If only he could shut up.

show me again by dracculaura {E}

He hasn’t had a roommate on land-based assignments in years, not since flight school, so it takes him by surprise. He just isn’t used to it, not anymore. And he’s especially not used to sharing a room with fucking Bradley Bradshaw. (jake and bradley are roommates during their time at topgun)

T-shirt by violation_of_faith_and_devotion {E}

He inadvertently takes a breath and before he realizes what’s happened, Jake is already away, making his way towards the bar. He’d like to blame it on the alcohol, but he’d need to lie to himself. *  Or, three times when Rooster smelled Hangman. And kinda liked it.

You Are My Deepest Lonely by Writerofthelorde {T}

Post mission. Neither Rooster nor Hangman can sleep. Both have nightmares and they get grumpy and rude. When it finally comes out that neither of them has slept in ages, Phoenix jokes that they should sleep in the same room or something, and they look at each other. A silent agreement. The thing is… Jake refused to let anyone in. Every nightmare just left him in a panic alone. Bradley sound asleep next to him. Because it worked, of course it worked. But now, Jake was just alone with someone next to him, and that was worse. So much worse. Aka Bradley and Jake share a room, but there's only one bed... They pine, they long, they ache and flirt. Jake has nightmares and panic attacks but refuses to share that with Bradley, who grows increasingly worried. When will they break?

coming up for air by vannral {T}

"The horizon blurs into blue and bone white. It’s so light it burns Jake’s eyes. The entire cockpit is eerily silent, except for the thundering in his ears. ’fly, fucking fly like your life depends on it – fly FASTER, THEY’RE GONNA DIE – !’" In which Jake shares a room with Rooster on the carrier, he has a nightmare about not reaching Mav and Rooster in time, and Rooster comforts him. And ends up sharing the bed.

I Won't Stop Running by ReformedTsundere {M}

"What? You said you were heading somewhere, didn't wanna give me the exact location, so sure, I've got a shotgun with no passenger and snacks that'll get us from here to Texas." When Bradley continues to stand there, with no response other than a widening of his eyes and slackening of his jaw, Jake takes two steps forward, close but not crowding into Bradley's space. "So, what'da say Bradshaw? Wanna come see the lone star state with me?" It strikes Bradley like he's been doused with a bucket of water, that Jake is serious.

Whiskey and Rye by sreshaw {E}

a.k.a. The Fic Where There's Only One Bed Because the Navy Fucked Up Hotel Reservations The Dagger Crew got turned into a real-deal instructor squadron after the mission. They get sent on missions and demos to teach new pilots how to do what they do. On this trip to Florida, the WSOs are staying with their pilots, but Jake and Bradley, since they are WSO-less, have to room together. And the hotel fucked up.

nothing safe is worth the drive by davidbyrne {E}

this slope is treacherous (and I like it)

It begins, like most things in Jake’s life, with a questionable decision. Or they were roommates (oh my god they were roommates)

I will follow you, follow you home

missing scenes from the first year of jake and bradley's cohabitation

You Love Him, and No One Else by Sceld {T}

“I’ve got it,” Jake offers, holding his hand out, but Rooster only tuts disappointedly. “What kind of host would I be if I made you carry your own bag?” Jake blanks on a response, his mouth twisting into a smile without his permission. Rooster turns to where Jake can now see the Bronco. Its engine is still running, and it’s warm inside when Jake closes the door behind him, clicking on his seatbelt by feeling along while he stares intently at the glove compartment in front of him, waiting while Rooster puts his bag in the boot. He doesn’t feel as weird as he thought he would, as he probably should. Every conflicting feeling from the F-14 is returning in waves. He’s helpless to resist the pull of the tide. It’s terrifying and exhilarating all at once. or; Jake's apartment floods and his only other option is to stay with the last person in the world he wants to spend time with. Shenanigans ensue.

Wave goodbye and say hello to unfamiliar circumstances by trinipedia {E}

Finally, the glances and the expression on Bradley's face that morning made sense, and Jake found himself grinning as widely as the cat that got the cream. Okay, maybe not yet. But soon, sooner than he thought. OR: Jake has a crush on Bradley and decides he has to have him. Incidentally, Bradley agrees.

I should be scared, honey, maybe so by yourstrulytay {T}

It’s several nights into their new sleeping arrangements that Bradley jolts out of sleep, heart pounding, and for a second, he can’t figure out what’s woken him. The room is filled with silence as he looks around, trying to spot something that may be out of place. He’s confused until a sound emanates from the bunk next to his. It’s a soft keening sound and Bradley’s heart twists to hear the pain laced through the drawn-out noise. It’s the next sound that has Bradley stopping cold, head whipping around to look at the man inhabiting the other bed. It’s mumbled, but undeniable. “Rooster- Bradley, no-!”

will the teasing of the fire be followed by the thud? by davidbyrne {T}

as he can to understand. “Because…you always are first,” Jake offers, shrugging. It’s the truth, as lame as it may be. “I think I have the right to be a dick to the person who broke my heart,” is Bradley’s abrupt response. 

Hey Hey Hey Lover by Nickies_Nonsense {G}

After the mission Bradley and Jake are both granted a month of leave. Mav offers up his house but it feels too soon so Bradley does the only reasonable thing and rents an apartment with Jake for a month. Terrible cooking, stomach bugs, beach days, nightmares, and first kisses follow.

Some Unspoken Thing by indybob {M}

With paths that have crossed for the better part of a decade, Jake and Bradley have a history unlike any other. A history that sees their relationship develop from best friends, to bitter rivals, to eventual lovers. The five times that Jake felt there was some unspoken thing between himself and Bradley, and the one time he decided to do something about it.

waking up to you by honestlydarkprincess {T}

Jake drinks too much at a party he and Bradley throw for Bob's birthday. He wanders off, settles into Bradley's bed and they fall asleep. That's it, that's the fic. Based on the prompt "we’re roommates and you drunkenly passed out in my bed; move over I’m coming in"

Calefaction by ReiverReturns {M}

It's 2am, and Bradley isn't used to sharing the hour.

tell the truth, I look better under you by lesbiseresin {G}

Before Bradley knows it, there’s a hand landing on his shoulder and squeezing as Hangman slips past him towards the door. “Hope you don’t snore. Otherwise I might have to shove your face into a pillow,” he tells him, completely cheerful. It makes Bradley want to reach for his collar again, face no longer numb but burning hot in a way he hopes doesn’t show through in color. Instead, he tightens his jaw and does what he’s been doing for the past few days every time Hangman tries to push one of his buttons. He ignores him. (alternatively: and they were bunkmates…)

Storm's Coming by imafriendlydalek {M}

There's a hurricane headed toward San Diego and Rooster gets sent to a nearby aircraft carrier to help move planes back on land before it sails out to sea. Too bad the storm has other plans.

you next to me by coconutcordiale {T}

“We can play for it,” Bradley offers, twisting to reach across Jake and pull a deck of cards he’s tucked into the rack supporting Jake’s mattress. “Loser has to trek across the ship and sleep with Zing.” “He’s not my type,” Jake says, mischief glinting in his eyes when he peers up at Bradley. “Too skinny.” + aka three times there was only one bed and one time there were too many

waiting for a star to fall by billpaxton {E}

Bradley's been struggling to adjust after the uranium mission so Maverick generously gifts him with a weekend pass to a mediation retreat in the Californian woods. He should be grateful - really it's an awfully nice gesture and a getaway Bradley's been desparate for. But it's hard to be appreciative when Maverick forgot to mention anything about having a roommate.

Being your something (for Christmas) by WaffleToaster {E}

It all started because of a damn Christmas sweater. Bradley's pretty sure there's some underlying motive behind all this, all he wants to do is to survive the party, but Jake ends up making everything ten times worse than it actually is. So what can he do other than defend his pride? Throw in some alcohol, some stupid questions and some shameless behaviour and just maybe.. maybe, he'll admit that he's actually having fun. And maybe he'll also admit that he's kind of hoping for something more..

When September Ends by imafriendlydalek {E}

Bradley had only applied to colleges other than the Academy to appease his mom, who insisted that it was important to have safety schools. He never thought he would need a backup. And yet here he is, at Cornell University. His dreams of going to the Academy have been thoroughly dashed, his mother is buried across the country next to his father, and his parking spot has just been stolen by some asshole with Texas license plates.

I’ll save you a seat by teacupivy {M}

“What if…” Seresin starts, but then he shakes his head. He’s about to walk away when Bradley grabs for his wrist, nodding at him to go on. “It’s stupid,” he says, rolling his eyes, “but what if we go together?”

feel it all by crueltether {E}

The battery percentage on Jake's phone is nearing the red zone and the last thing he wants is to be completely removed from society (being stuck in a snowstorm in the middle of nowhere is bad enough). He leans down to find the charger in his bag when – “Seresin?” Jake goes still, grin on his lips before he even looks up. “Bradshaw,” he replies, grin twisting into a fond smirk. “As I live and breathe. The hell are you doin’ here?”

Maybe We Were Always Meant To Be by indybob {E}

“And since my flight got rerouted I have to stay at a hotel nearby. It’s supposed to be a nice one at least.” Jake sounds a bit on the annoyed side considering he’s going to be stuck at a hotel for his entire leave, and Bradley can’t say he blames him. The idea of Jake having to live out of a hotel doesn’t sit right with Bradley. It sounds just as boring and lonely as it’s been for him alone in his house. He’d hate for his friend to go through that for two weeks. The perfect solution suddenly dawns on him. At least, it’s perfect logically, but in reality, it’s probably a terrible idea. Oh well. He’s got to jump off the perch sometime, right? “What if you come stay with me?” Or: Two boys. Two weeks. One everlasting love.

I wanna bring you home myself by Iprefervillains {T}

Jake! Jake! Jake! All he could think about was the other man, every thought led right back to him. He was supposed to be asleep, not wide awake, missing Jake while sniffing his fucking pillow. He was supposed to be pissed at Jake for getting the first overnight date with the prince like the others were, not pissed at Brigham for stealing Jake away. Hell, he was supposed to fall in love with the prince, not with -. Oh. Oh. --- or when Bradley applied to be a contestant on “Prince Charming” on a drunken dare by his best friend all he hoped for was to have a fun time in Mexico and make some new friends within the queer community. He didn’t expect to get to the Top 5 of the show. He certainly didn’t expect to fall in love with his annoyingly handsome roommate Jake along the way.

me and my truth we sit in silence (we can't be friends) by dvrco {M}

“Seresin and Bradshaw” He’s fuming. He’s pissed. Whatever Admiral put together this stupid list better hope Jake never finds out their name. Months of strategic avoiding all out the window because now he has to share a glorified broom closet with the object of all his hate and desire. He had come to terms with having to live, breathe and eat with him on a ship in the middle of the Pacific ocean. But literally having to sleep directly on top of the other man has to be some kind of cruel joke. or Jake and Bradley have been broken up for a few years when they get stationed on the same base and carrier for two years, assigned to share a three by seven foot box the Navy calls a bedroom.

riding down this highway with you by halestrom {E}

At loose ends after the mission, Jake and Bradley end up on a spontaneous roadtrip that changes their lives forever.

Bad Idea, Bradshaw. by emseebeans {T}

Bradley reaches across the bed towards Jake in the dark, the same way he has so many times before. “Bad idea, Bradshaw,” Jake says, the moment his hand settles on his hip.

heavy // light as air by liass21 {T}

A tropical vacation on the Navy’s dime would make anyone happy, ordinarily. It’s too bad Jake’s got a soft spot for his best friend Javy, who’s begging him to swap rooms in order to avoid the premarital spat he’s having with his girlfriend, Nat. “Jake,” he pleads. “Man, please. You don’t even have to share with Nat. She’s swapping out, too.” “With who?” He asks incredulously, and then a wave of arms and an upset shout catches his attention. He turns to his left, and Phoenix and Bradley are deep in a heated conversation not too unlike his own with Javy. “Oh, hell no,” Jake groans.

need a little warmth on a night so cold by fridaynightlife {E}

“Folks, we’re in for a heck of a storm this week, with projected snowfall amounts in excess of 12 inches across the state. Even higher amounts may be possible locally. Here in Newport, we’re expecting about 18 inches by Friday. Road conditions are expected to worsen after the rain transitions to snow in the early hours of tomorrow morning, so be prepared to add a little extra time to your commute, and if you have the option to stay home, we recommend doing so…” -- Jake and Bradley are settled into their parallel routines as roommates. It's disrupted by a nor'easter, a power outage, and the lack of insulation in their place.

My heart is working overtime in this kind of game by imafriendlydalek {E}

“Do you even know how to sail a boat?” “I’ve got a license,” Bradley shot back with the confidence of a man with three whiskeys in his bloodstream. The fact that he had been almost half as old as he is now when he got it and that he’s never done more than little day trips was just a detail. “Used to go out fishing with buddies at Oceana.” “She’s not the kind of boat that can be sailed alone.” That was when Hangman had sidled over and pulled out one of his signature smirks. “Well I, for one, used to spend most of my summers out at Corpus Christi.” This time, both of Penny’s eyebrows had gone up. “You two volunteering?”

[takeyours11]

Chapter 2

Finnick

What the fuck is going on here? You would think that after years apart we would be less childish. But no you are very much mistaken.

Mystical Magical By: Benson Boone

Let’s do this quickly, the guy on top of the bleach blond dude is Icarus, one of my best friends. The guy under him is George, my other best friend. I am the one trying to hold Icarus back because we are in one of my family’s manors because our vacation got canceled because of the King's lavish parties that last all summer. I wanted to go to Hawaii but now I have to do the duties of my first grandson. If you couldn’t tell I was being sarcastic. Also the guy holding the phone trying not to laugh his ass off is Hugo and the guy next to him eating a plate of pancakes is Oscar.

“Go Icarus beat his ass!” Hugo yells out.

“Not helping,” I tell him.

“I know,” he answers back with a creepy smile. God how did I become friends with him. I mean it was pretty simple as in two boys playing knights in a bogey preschool. How this started I don’t really know? Minus from what Icarus has shouted. So turns out the girl George went home with after we went to the club was Icarus “friends with benefits” he’s been trying to date for the past couple of months. He met her at Stanford during his physic class.

“Let… go… of me,” Icarus says as he struggles to escape my grip on him.

“No,” I tell him. Me literally putting on of my best mates into a hold onto the ground wasn't apart of my mrojmg plan.

“When the fuck did you become this strong?” He asks me to give up.

“I’m the captain of the Tulians lacrosse team,” I remind him.

“That makes so much sense,” he agrees with me as we all just stand here in silence.

“Does anyone want coffee?” Oscar asks, breaking the silence.

“Here,” Icarus calls out.

“I already know Finnick wants some,” he says before leaving.

“What you drink doesn’t count as coffee,” Hugo tells me as I just roll my eyes. Okay I drink my coffee with condensed milk, Caramel sauce, and two sugars. Which is what mostly everyone drinks. Blame the condensed milk part on my roommate back in New Orleans. He would explain to me how his grandmother would put some in his coffee and or hot chocolate to make it a little bit sweeter. So I usually have to get the condensed milk after I get my order. It keeps me up in my classes and whenever I decide to stay up for a party.

…

My life sucks. I mean other from coming from wealth, access to a good education, great lacrosse skills (that makes every college and university in the world want me), and being a chick magnet. But even after all those things my life still sucks. And I can only blame my whole family for that. Ever since I was born they had it out for me. My father never really loved me and made it very clear to me and the public.

My grandparents also still think that my creation was a curse onto the Finch bloodline. And everyone else follows suit because they are scared of them.

The only one, beside the staff at the manor that loved me, was my mom. She could have just followed suit which could have made her life so much easier but she didn’t. She showed up to my school events, sat at my lacrosse games in rain or shine, made me oatmeal chocolate chip cookies whenever I was sad, and she sometimes does my hair. Most of my childhood was spent with her, going on excursions and moving from content to content. Meanwhile my other siblings were at home with our dad. But once a week on a Friday morning she will occasionally come and meet me for breakfast or brunch. After taking a week of deciding where we are going to eat she chose London's new hotspot for anything for breakfast. It is called Hyacinth, like a flower. I mean I’ve been seeing it on every content creator page. Seeing the bright colorful flowers cover the frame of the giant glass with the bran name on it. It’s packed the only reason why I get to walk in is because my mom already booked a table. Seeing the dark brown hair and blue eye woman who gave birth to me. She’s wearing a nice butter yellow dress and her hair is in a braid. Watching her take off her glasses as a big smile appears on her face. I haven’t seen her in like a month so this is pretty big to her.

“My little Newt,” she says, as she gets up from her chair and gives me a kiss on my cheeks.

“Mom,” I say, getting embarrassed. “There is a camera outside,” I whisper to her

“Him?” She says poking her head to see what’s behind me.. “He’s been out there for like twenty minutes,” she says as we take our seats. After the waitress came around she couldn’t wait any longer.

“My baby boy is now being recognized,” My mother says proudly.

“I mean I didn’t know until I read it in an Australian newspaper about your team's big win at nationals,” she tells me and shows me the news from a month ago. Last month she got an offer to see a very real fish. But like alway it clashes with my games and I told her she didn’t have to come. Long story short she found a way by having my roommates mom facetime her the whole time.

“What’s wrong?” She asks because of the uncomfortable expression I just made. I mean when I was younger this would have been the dream. To be finally noticed as me and famous. But now I hate it. I hate it so much to the point where I now have to hide myself when I go out. This all started when college draft season for lacrosse started. After years of hard work and labor I had to choose where to go. Now I thought it would have been very easy but no it wasn’t. I like the fact that mostly every college gave me a spot on their team but it got very overwhelming very quickly. I mean ya if it was like one or four it would have been easy but for some reason the fear of disappointment creeped back into my life. So in Hugo fashion he put all of the offers in a box and told me to choose at random. I still remember what it felt to read that white piece of paper with blue marker spelling the words TULIAN in his handwriting. It was a little messy but very neat cursive. So I decided on Tulian even though none of my friends were going there. For the past three years I have managed to fix the team up and bring it back to its glory days,

“You forgot to warn me about that,” I answered and seeing her smile turn into a little frown.

“I did,” she agrees sad.y. Seeing her take a deep breath before she says something that she really doesn’t want to.

“To be honest I didn’t think you would make it this far beyond my expectations,” she tells me honestly. “Lead alone my fathers,” she adds.

“No offense,” she says at the blow .

“None taking,” I tell her as the waitress comes back to take our order. I usually go for waffles or a croissant with a latte on the side.

“You need to cut off on the coffee,” she tells me.“And who was the one who gave me it?” I ask, raising an eyebrow because she was the person who gave me my first cup when I was in seventh grade.

“You had finals,” that’s her usual excuse. “Also we were living in Australia at the time,” she adds to her excuse even though that has nothing to do with it.

Most of my life has been spent outside the UK. By the time I was eight I lived in: France, Greece, South Africa, Italy, Norway, Louisiana, and Australia.That was due to my mothers job being a Zoologist. But most of it was spent in Australia due to its very large amount of species that they have to offer for animal research. How I managed to make and keep my friends is a mystery in itself. Hugo is easy to explain because I was his only friend and his dad didn’t want to see him retreat back into himself so he bit the bullet and followed us. I mean he got something out of it because he’s a chemist.

“How’s dating?” She asks getting to the main point in her head.

“Good,” I say, trying to avoid the conversation.

“I mean the dating pool is different then what I had back in my days,” she says as we get our food. It’s true some wealthy marriages people have are arranged just like my mom’s and dad’s. They never loved each other and they still don’t. My mom used to be quiet and shy but after having me somehow a different side of her showed up. I’m guessing she didn’t want to see me go through what she went through as a kid and stood her ground.

“I mean you guys didn’t have a choice,” I tell her while taking a sip of my latte.

“No one really does when you're a person in power,” she says.

“Did you hear Hendrick is back in the country?” I ask her and see her head pop up in excitement as she tries to hide it.

“Really?” She starts. “How do you know?” She asks me.

“Just a little rumor,” I tell her.

“It was Icarus wasn’t it?” She asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Maybe,” I say back. I mean of course it was Icarus, his father is the one who knows everything about the people in our community. It comes in clutch when you need something for your family. But you never want to be on the other end of those rumors.

[yawnzbf]

⚝ REVERIE?

College students soobin and yn move into an apartment together who are unaware of each other's existence

900+ words

In the second year of university, yn shifted from his on-campus dormitory to a shared apartment. Being a busy university student who worked two jobs to sustain himself wasn’t easy as it sounds on paper letting him have no chance to greet his roommate properly.

Yn composes himself and marches away to their shared living room for a movie marathon his only solace for the night. On the way, yn notices the other bedroom’s light still up. Looking for something anew, makes his way over.

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

The door opens to his supposed roommate- ‘Soobin, that was his name, right?’ yn wonders. Soobin was tall and with those thick rimmed glasses, bangs just above his eyes and headphones that hung around his neck- god he looked absolutely delicious. ‘what the hell is wrong with you yn, you just met this guy!’ yn internally screamed at himself.

“hello…?” Soobin asked confused why yn was at his room this late.

“oh uhm- yeah, I am going to have a movie marathon tonight and thought that I could invite you as well. Since you know, we haven’t really got to know each other as roommates” yn mutters out embarrassed.

Soobin on the other hand patiently watched the man trying to explain himself with an amused smile growing more and more with each second passing. Soobin pretends to think for a second too long, he agrees when yn looks at him with hopeful eyes, unable to refuse the offer.

“sure, ill be there in 5 though” he says shutting the door leaving a giddy yn alone with his own thoughts.

Unknowingly a grin finds its way to yn’s lips as he prepares snacks for his company, switches the lights off and choosing their very first film of the night. Yn sits back on the shared couch, waiting for Soobin. The side of the couch dips slightly as Soobin settles beside yn.

“you don’t need your glasses?” yn asks after examining soobin’s illuminated figure.

“mhm, people say I look much better without my glasses” Soobin replies, raking fingers through his hair.

“really? I thought they looked much better on you” yn passes a comment without a thought.

Soobin’s eyes find yn’s as if questioning the authenticity of his words. Yn suddenly feels small under his gaze and looks away.

“did I say something wrong?” yn asks eyes averted.

Soobin's amused smile returned, and he shook his head. "No, not at all. It's just... no one has ever said that before. Most people think I look unapproachable with glasses."

Yn felt a mix of relief and curiosity at Soobin's response. "Well, I guess I have a knack for seeing things differently. Besides, glasses or not, you seem approachable to me."

Soobin's eyebrows raised slightly, and a genuine smile played on his lips. "I appreciate that. It's refreshing to hear a different perspective."

They both fell silent focusing on the movie being played or at least yn tried. Yn often found himself stealing glances at the latter.

Soobin, who was well aware of yn’s eyes on him turned to face yn. Yn was caught red handed, his eyes slightly widened when Soobin directly saw through him. This time, instead of looking away, yn met Soobin's gaze with a sheepish grin. There was a moment of shared amusement, an unspoken acknowledgment that dispelled any lingering tension.

Soobin chuckled, "Caught in the act, huh?"

Yn laughed, unable to deny the obvious. "Guilty as charged. I guess I'm not very subtle."

Soobin leaned back on the couch, his smile never fading. "No need to be subtle. I mean I am handsome who wouldn't want to look?"

Yn couldn't help but burst into laughter at Soobin's playful remark. "Confident, aren't we?"

Soobin shrugged with a mock-serious expression. "Well, it's a fact. I can't blame you for appreciating the view."

Yn gazed at soobin again for a second too long before focusing back on the movie which was left forgotten long ago.

As the night progressed, the television played movies after movies, the pair occasionally sharing their opinion on certain parts of the movie- constructive criticism perhaps. Tiredness of day caught up to the two when they both released a yawn. Soobin snuggled his body with yn leaning on the latter for support.

Warmth was welcomed by yn when he rested his head on top of the other’s. The soft glow of the TV illuminated their faces, casting a warm and intimate ambiance. Yn couldn't help but appreciate the unexpected turn the night had taken. What started as a simple movie night had evolved into a genuine connection, and now, they found themselves not only sharing laughs but also moments of quiet companionship.

As the next movie started playing, Yn felt a subtle shift. Soobin's breathing became slow and steady, indicating that the weariness had finally caught up with him. Yn, too, felt the gentle pull of sleep tugging at his consciousness. The combination of the cozy atmosphere and Soobin's presence provided a sense of tranquility that was hard to resist.

Soobin, nestled comfortably against Yn, murmured in a half-asleep state, "This is nice."

Yn smiled, his own eyes growing heavy. "Yeah, it is."

The movie played on, but the characters on the screen became a mere backdrop to the peaceful scene unfolding on the couch. Yn, succumbing to the drowsiness, let his eyes close slowly. Soobin, already on the verge of sleep, remained nestled against Yn's side.

[ohbo-ohno]

🗑️sometimes I get nervous writing asks and I think "is this too far? I don't want to be weird" and I have to scroll through your blog to remind myself that you're kind of off your rocker but it's okay because we like you like that❤️

Anyways vampire Simon going to a bar and luring in Johnny for a night of passion and blood sucking and then wakes the next day thinking that Johnny's gonna run for the hills.

But he doesn't and instead begs to stay with Simon, who has no idea what to think about it- but Johnny swears he doesn't have anywhere else to go, he's desperate, and won't you PLEASE help him? He swears he won't stay long and he'll do anything for Simon in gratitude.

The puppy eyes and begging (and the bj that sucked the brain out of him) definitely convinced him, and really, Simon wouldn't mind some help- only being nocturnal sucked once one realized most places closed before he opened his eyes. And he's been needing a familiar.

And Johnny is the perfect roommate: cleans, cooks, takes care of Simon. Basically worships the ground he walks on sometimes, and boy does that give him a power trip.

But Johnny doesn't always behave, poor thing, and Simon makes sure to discipline him like a proper master should to their familiar. And Johnny doesn't ask much questions, does what he's told and thanks Simon afterwards.

And when Johnny asks to stay for a little longer, Simon agrees, to the point where both are sure Johnny probably won't ever leave.

By that point, his random one night stand became his familiar of four years, and though Johnny barks and kneels and whines like the puppy he is, Simon doesn't know if he's truly the one with the leash.

But Johnny has such a pretty face, so Simon will forgive him this time.

i AM kinda off my rocker but if you follow me you are too so it's all good. balances it out. also don't be nervous sending me asks! as long as long as you don't include anything from my no-go's list, it's unlikely i'll be squicked out

also i say it all the time but i like to remind y'all: if i don't respond or post your ask it's more than likely just because i had literally nothing to add. i don't like posting things to my blog that don't have at least a little bit of Me in there lol

also i love this idea but with a like Druggie twist on it lol

like, vampire!ghost who's got that super special addictive venom like literally every other vampire, and one night when he's drinking from someone (johnny, who loves feeding vampires cause he's a painslut) he's so enamored with the taste of his blood that he can't help but slip him a little venom

(also let's say werewolf johnny, and vampires rarely drink from wolves, so when johnny offered himself up on a platter for ghost he just couldn't resist. smth like that idk)

and then poor johnny's hooked. he needs another hit, dogs at ghost's heels like an eager pet, just begging for a little more (even though it's not safe for ghost to drink from this soon anyways)

and like. ghost hates the pup, can't stand that he's around all the time, wants some goddamn privacy again, but also... well he's a little pathetic :/ all sad and begging, tail drooping and ears flat while he looks up at ghost with those big blue eyes...

well, he did taste delicious. it wouldn't be the first time a vamp took someone to keep as their own personal bloodbag. and johnny's not the worst company, he wouldn't be so bad to keep around... maybe. if he can listen

and he does! listens oh so well, bends over backwards to do anything for ghost, tries his best to try and predict ghost's needs before he can even ask. it's a lot, to be sure, but also... well, he treats ghost like a king. can you blame him for indulging?

[thinking-destiel-thoughts]

So I could go after a bunch of stuff that irks me in How I Met Your Mother but I wanted to post about some of the major things that bother me and see if I’m crazy or if others resonate the same.

First and most frustrating to me: STELLA. nearly everything about this irked me.

The thing with inviting Robin to the wedding…like, yeah, absolutely valid that you don’t want your future husband’s ex to be there. But why didn’t you say that when making the initial plans? Especially when you know she’s one of his 4 friends. Did you really expect him to not invite her??

The thing with inviting Tony…yes, absolutely I get not wanting him there. But Ted has no legal guardianship over Lucy. What exactly was Ted supposed to do? Take a little girl from her father against his will? That’s kidnapping. He has no legal right to take Lucy away from Tony.

Moving into an apartment in New York with Tony after making a massive point about how ridiculous it would be for her to do something like that with Ted. Like…girly…the man wouldn’t move to New Jersey for his OWN child? Ted was like “you know what, you’re right” but Tony was like “nah give up the house” and that was fine??

Going to Ted to ask him to get Tony back for her…my sister in Christ, what the fuck. What exactly did Tony expect Ted to say about the woman who LEFT HIM AT THE ALTER? Did he expect Ted to still be obsessed with her? And WHY does Stella even want Tony back if the man is willing to break up their family for a SECOND TIME bc a man who Stella hurt is not obsessed with her and thinks she’s selfish? Clearly he wanted the out. Why chase him? AND the fact that she literally only apologizes bc she needs help from him…ugh. That is messed up imo

The movies REALLY irk me. Ted is the man who YOU left at the alter and the man who GOT TONY BACK FOR YOU, but you let this man make him the villain for his movie? You not only divulge private shit that went on between you and Ted, but you also don’t stop him from putting it in a fricking movie?? I get Tony having his warped image of things, fine, but Stella really just let that all go down like that?? She just told Tony every single detail and everything she ever learned about Ted and he put it in a movie. WHY

Ted and Victoria, the second time they get together:

One of my biggest issues with this is that for some reason Ted is the one people blame for the wedding not happening??? As if 1) Victoria wasn’t a whole adult who chose to not tell Ted it was her wedding day before agreeing to meet up with him and bringing a car for them to run away together 2) Victoria’s husband-to-be ALSO ran away from the wedding. He literally also left!!

Even if Ted had brought Victoria back, there wouldn’t have been a wedding. Victoria’s dad blaming Ted and expecting him to pay is so crazy to me.

Another issue I have is with her being pissy that Ted wants her ex-fiancé out of his apartment. It’s not like the dude was normal and super chill. He had an aggressive pet that kept birthing babies and biting AND he didn’t respect boundaries. Like if the dude was just chilling and a normal roommate, I’d get it. But I don’t feel like it was unreasonable for Ted to not want him there — he agreed to let the ex stay with him and had no knowledge of the ferrets or whatever pets the guy had when he suggested it.

My last issue with Victoria is that when Ted is like “if you wanted a bigger commitment, you’d tell me, right?” and she’s like “yeah, I’d be direct.” and then continues to be passive aggressive. The man literally told her “I need you to be direct” and she wouldn’t. All of that on top of her thing about getting back together with him on her wedding day meant he shouldn’t be shocked she wants to get married…babygirl…you didn’t want to get married. You literally ran away at the first opportunity when Ted asked if you wanted to catch up

Ted and The Mother: My main issue with them is that SO quick after being ready to MOVE TO CHICAGO bc he loves Robin, he’s just all good to stay for her? Like suddenly the Robin thing is a non-issue??? Like…bruh??? That just doesn’t track for me at all.

I also take issue with him returning to Robin in the finale and the kids encouraging it. Like idk about yall but wouldn’t it be weird for your dad to admit to saying he was so in love with his best friend’s wife that he was moving but the next day fell for your mom? I feel like I’d be kinda like “okay so was mom a stand in for Robin??? is that what the point of this story was???”

Ted and Barney (Robin and the bro code): I’m pretty sure going after your best friend’s ex-wife is a violation of the bro code if going after your ex-girlfriend is. Like this is the one woman your best friend ever REALLY loved…

Plus…was it not a whole issue of Ted being unable to sleep with a woman because he thought Barney was with her first? But banging the woman Barney was married to and consistently slept with is fine?

There’s definitely more that irks me but these are the main things…anyway. for anyone who made it this far, thanks for reading my rant lol

[leathr-blr]

i really wish i understood the appeal of milo murphys law but i just can't get into it :-( I've tried watching it but it's just so painfully mid

(i’m very critical about mml here but i end it positively don’t worry. essay under the cut)

i watched milo murphy’s law with my best friend and roommate ( @herbi-cide ) which gave me a more positive experience with the show as a whole but there were so many times were it just felt like a slog. i hesitate to call it “filler” because it’s a pretty episodic show (though theres much more of a plot than pnf) but i don’t particularly find the laid back contained story episodes very engaging or funny most of the time. i’ve seen people (KEYAN *shakes fist*) say this roots from a lack luster premise, but i think that a premise is always as good as it’s execution. and a lot of mml executes like ass. it is straight up disastrous. like milo murphy himself walked through the writers room one day leaving the writers to salvage whatever scraps were left among the wreckage

im really not confident in dwampy’s ability to write a plot-driven show, i think it’s obvious that they’re comfort zone lies in episodic comedies. which is awesome, we all have our skills and comfort zones, phineas and ferb is so great at what it does for a reason. but i think this is very much to mml’s detriment. there is so much set up for great storylines and likable characters, and so many good ideas, but like, either they didn’t have time to do anything with them or just straight up didn’t know how. it is genuinely impressive how boring mml can get given its cast and world

i think people blame pnf too much for the decline of mml in season 2, doofenshmirtz is insufferable throughout most of it and all, but i think the pnf shoehoring hints to a larger problem that mml always had. it feels as if it’s uncomfortable with its own characters and world, like it’s afraid to commit, and i think that is very much dwampy’s sitcom-oriented writing style shining through in an ugly way

i see people praise mml for its story, but because of dwampy’s aversion to writing linear storytelling, it definitely ranges on the plot-light side of television. it’s not quite a sitcom, but there’s really not much story progression happening aside from a few world building episodes and big arcs like the aliens or the pistachions (which phineas and ferb also does better in the meap saga let’s be real, at least for the alien arc)

i don’t like comparing mml to phineas and ferb, but one fails so hard at the things the other achieves in spades that it’s kind of impossible not to compare them. i wouldn’t mind mml’s shitty storytelling as much if the plot-light episodes (which is most of them) were compelling. phineas and ferb has just as good as a premise as murphy’s law, if not less interesting, and does the character-driven sitcom filler infinitely better in every single way. it is rare i’ll ever be bored watching phineas and ferb, and ik comedy is subjective, but i think a lot of us can agree that phineas and ferb is overall just wittier and funnier in general than mml. mml is kind of forgettable! i’ll be real! i love it but it’s forgettable

i want mml to be its own unique thing sooo bad but especially in the second half it feels like there’s no reason i shouldn’t just turn it off and go watch phineas and ferb. it’s also frustrating because i know mml has the capability to be good, because the pistachion arc is gripping and well structured and generally super entertaining (one of the best experiences i’ve had watching a show with a friend), and there’s a lot of fantastic episodes and moments in there. which is why i’m so harsh on it, it’s disappointing!!

there’s dozens and dozens of ultra talented people who worked on milo murphy’s law (i’ve gone through so many storyboards and portfolios to look for more details about the artists who worked on it so can confirm these people are awesome) so i can only wonder if studio conditions / time crunches / other factors (disney bullshitery) had anything to do with how spectacularly mml fails in a lot of regards, but there’s an upside, and this is the biggest appeal of murphy’s law for me:

the milo murphy’s law fandom and by extent the dakavendish fandom is one of the best fandoms i’ve ever seen hands down, some of the most dedicated and passionate writers, artists and general fans continue to be active in the community and create awesome shit that is leagues better than anything in the source material. because mml presents so many good concepts but doesn’t deliver, it leaves a lot of room for fans to expand on them and make their own amazing stuff. and because they’re such a small community, and milo murphy’s law is widely remembered as “that show that came after phineas and ferb” or “that show keyan carlile didn’t like” they are very close knit and very very friendly. nicest ppl you’ll ever meet

if it weren’t for the fandom i would not give a single shit about milo murphy’s law, but the fans make the show and it’s characters so much more than they are in the source material. so no wonder i had such a good time watching it when i had my roommate to talk about it with! community adds context to art in a way that can change it entirely, especially in the age of the internet

so i will always recommend murphy’s law with that in mind. also, think of it this way: at least it’s not hamster and gretel. i’ll stand by my opinion that show sucks LMAO

[star-going-supernova]

prompt: since you said you wanted to try writing for your siblings au again, i would love to see a oneshot with gregory, annie, and vanessa :) maybe gregory has a broken bone and theyre sitting at home with him and hes just stewing in anger of not being able to move off the couch?

(thank you for the wonderful au btw!! one of my favorites)

Tumblr generated prompt 43! Just some siblings AU silly stuff in this one. I’m not a doctor, so don’t pay too much attention to the injuries and whatnot, lol. You're welcome! I'm glad you like it!

Blame the Centipede 

Annie had to take a moment to muffle her chuckles into her hands before regaining her composure. Once she was sure she wouldn’t laugh in their faces, she picked up the snack-laden tray she’d prepared and left the kitchen. 

A pouting Gregory and a sulking Vanessa sat on the couch in the living room of their apartment. Gregory’s left ankle was in a blue cast, his crutches leaning against the arm of the couch beside him. Vanessa’s right arm was secured in a sling, and she had a dazed look about her from the painkillers. 

They’d left a spot open for her in the middle, and after setting down the tray, she fell back into the cushions, keeping firm control of her expression. 

But her poker face was far from perfect. Vanessa slumped down further before wincing and pushing herself back up. Gregory glared at his cast. “It’s not funny,” he mumbled. 

“I’m not laughing,” Annie immediately denied. The corners of her mouth twitched upward. 

If the accident had been serious or traumatizing, she really wouldn’t be. But it hadn’t been, quite the opposite, so it was only out of the kindness of her own heart that she wasn’t mercilessly teasing them. 

“Movie?” Vanessa grumbled. 

It was day three and their sixth movie. It was going to be a long few weeks with her roommates mostly immobile. Gregory had already developed a glint in his eye that spoke of his accumulating restless energy. He was going to cause trouble soon, Annie could feel it. 

She queued up the first Indiana Jones, one of the few movies they could all agree on, and passed each disgruntled sibling their snacks. Annie swallowed back her comments as Vanessa fumbled with her bowl of pretzels, reduced to one functional hand. Gregory tried to find a comfortable position while keeping his ankle elevated. 

Not that she’d ever say so, but she was glad they’d both gotten hurt. Simply because one of them being down for the count would have utterly tormented the other, and there surely would have been blood drawn. As it was, they were both partially responsible, and they were both suffering the consequences of their actions. 

For a while, the movie distracted all three of them. But Gregory began fidgeting before it was even over, which was highly concerning. There was only so much that an energetic kid like him could be engrossed in, and it was way too early in their recovery to break out Monopoly. 

Vanessa seemed to catch on soon after Annie. She silently mouthed a curse up at the ceiling, making Annie snort, before leaning forward to send her little brother the stink eye. “Don’t tell me you’re bored already.” 

“I’m so bored!” Gregory groaned. “Can we go outside? Or just me, you guys don’t have to.” 

“No,” Vanessa and Annie said together. 

“You’ll just get yourself into more trouble or something,” Vanessa added. “You’re not going anywhere without adult supervision.” 

Gregory groaned louder. “Literally, can we please do something that isn’t watching another movie? My brain’s gonna start leaking out of my ears soon.” 

“We could do a puzzle,” Annie suggested. She’d suggest video games, but they didn’t have any. None of them really had time or the inclination to camp out on the couch for hours on end, sucked into this or that game. 

Probably why this forced stillness was so difficult for both of them. 

Vanessa made a noise that said please not a puzzle but also I’m desperate. Fair, as Gregory would probably resort to war crimes soon if they couldn’t find something engaging for him. 

Annie glanced at Vanessa, saw the sling, and a sneaky giggle immediately escaped her control. Vanessa rolled her head along the couch cushion to level a grumpy glare at her. 

“It’s not my fault that it’s funny!” Annie finally broke. She snickered. “A seesaw, Ness! A seesaw! Gregory managed to break his ankle, and you managed to break your collarbone and dislocate your shoulder—on a seesaw! It doesn’t get much funnier than that!” 

It had been glorious. She and Vanessa had been lazily going up and down, with Gregory balancing right on the fulcrum. And then Vanessa had told him there was a centipede on his shoe, he’d half lost his balance, half threw himself into the air, and he’d pretty much landed on Annie. Most unfortunately, since her side of the seesaw had been more up than down. 

The extra weight had taken them straight to the ground, doing little more than brushing Annie’s behind. Gregory landed funny, breaking his ankle, and Vanessa, taken by surprise, was basically launched off her seat. Except she’d held on with one hand, yanking her shoulder out of socket as it took her full weight at an awkward angle, and then she’d smacked into the fulcrum when she did let go, fracturing her clavicle. 

Annie had quite uncharitably been laughing when she called for an ambulance. 

“We never should have stopped at that park,” Vanessa said to herself. 

“Ugh! I want to go to the park!” Gregory said. “That sounds like so much fun right now.” 

“After what happened,” Vanessa cried, “you want to go back?!”

“It wasn’t the park’s fault! You know I hate centipedes!” 

“You shouldn’t have thrown yourself at Annie!” 

“It wasn’t like I was aiming at her!” 

Annie sank down into the couch and opened a pack of Hostess cakes, letting their argument wash over her as the bad guy’s face melted on screen. Pretzels and chips began to sail over her head in each direction. Ahh, her weird sibling roommates. She wouldn’t want them any other way. 

[echo-rambles]

NOT HYUNLIX ANON however, I would love to take this opportunity to talk about hyunlix and my opinions on them as best friends and partners (coming from a hyunlix multishipper who is very easily swayed into shipping just about any combo of skz members, and who relates to hyunlix a lot). now here’s a personal essay lol:

I completely agree with your interpretation of hyunlix because I have lived that exact same dynamic with my best friend, and I think people are just not used to seeing such intense platonic relationships? for me, there are moments where hyunlix reminds me of myself and my bestie. namely the time in 2 kids room ep.1 when felix said he has to calm himself down because he thinks too seriously about hyunjin. that hit me so personally when he said that, because I know what it’s like to have that feeling with your best friend.

I met my best friend in my first year of university when we were randomly paired as roommates, and I felt that she was the first and only person who truly understood me. we immediately clicked and loved spending time together, and have always been able to easily work through conflicts and support each other unconditionally. I was a lesbian woman questioning my gender identity and my friend was (and still is) a straight cis woman. and people in our friend group immediately assumed we were ‘more than friends’ because I was openly queer and my friend was very uninterested in dating. and we were also super affectionate: holding hands, cuddling during movies, giving each other hugs and cheek kisses. which like, I don’t blame our friends for assuming that we were a couple but that was not the case at all. we both consider each other our soulmate, but we also believe that a soulmate doesn’t have to be a romantic/sexual partner, or even only one person. we love each other, but we’ve never been attracted to each other.

in our second year my friend got really busy with her studies and social commitments, and even though we were still roommates we were spending a lot less time together. I was also going through a bad mental health dip, and I tried to explain to our mutual friends how I was upset that bestie and I weren’t spending as much time together. and their response was basically that I was overreacting, and the reason I felt that way was because I was in love with her. but I wasn’t, and none of them understood my feelings??? and I ended up breaking down to my bestie one night because I felt so guilty and selfish that I had these feelings, and also like I was the only one in the world who ever felt this way. and she comforted me and promised that it was okay, because she felt the same way she just was in a much better mental state lol. so when I heard felix describe his feelings for hyunjin in 2 kids room, I felt that! I knew the exact feeling he was describing because I had someone that brought up those feelings for me! it’s like, confusing and scary when your feelings go against what is expected socially. or even against your own personal expectations. some of our friends have voiced confusion, and even I don’t understand how my bestie is seemingly the perfect person who understands me but I don’t want her to be my partner. I just want her to be my bestie.

and I think that’s where the hyunlix shippers get confused about non-hyunlix shippers. relationships like these often turn out romantic in media. there isn’t a ton of aromantic or asexual representation, so I get why people don’t understand relationships that defer from our traditional expectations of love. often when we see people using the term soulmates, or being so openly in love with someone, we assume those people have to be in a romantic/sexual relationship. and even more so when we’re in the fandom culture and we enjoy the act of shipping, these moments of intimacy between members fuel the relationship we want to see.

I’m a hyunlix shipper, and my reasoning for seeing them romantically is basically: I like shipping. I ship people and characters because I think it’s fun and silly, and I don’t see the ships as reflections of the real relationships.

so for me, hyunlix the ship and hyunlix the people are entirely separate. yes, the idea of finding that person who knows you and loves you unconditionally is very romantic. but, I know you can be in love with someone, and still want them to find their special person who they’re going to spend their life with. and when I see hyunlix, the ‘real’ hyunlix (because let’s face it, idols are playing personas most of the time because it’s their career), I see soulmates. I see myself and my best friend, who were mistaken as a couple by our own friend group, who feel safe enough to seek physical comfort in each other, and who are lucky enough to know what it’s like to have someone who knows you like nobody else. so, I think with any ship, people interpret the interactions as what they want to see, or what they are used to seeing. and there’s nothing wrong with that. but I believe that your interpretation of hyunlix is probably closer to the ‘real’ relationship, solely because I know it’s possible.

but who knows, hyunlix could be romantically attracted to each other. I’m not saying they’re not, I’m just saying I think I understand their feelings and I interpret their interactions as very similar to my own closest friendship 🫶🏻

first of all anon, thank you so much for sharing your life experiences!! especially with your best friend. I'm really glad you have someone you're that close to!

secondly; I LOVE YOUR BRAIN!! you worded everything so perfectly, I loved reading every bit of it. especially the bit about how the idols are showing us personas of themselves, and the people we're shipping are the personalities they want us to see.

also the vibes I was getting from your entire dissertation was qpr hyunlix, which I can absolutely see.

whenever I see hyunlix, I truly just see two people who love each other unconditionally but it's not romantic. something that's not quite romance but feels too big to fit into something as simple as 'plantonic', which I'm pretty sure is the definition of a queerplatonic relationship. you can have someone in your life that's incredibly important to you without dating them.

I love their dynamic but personally it's just not romantic for me. I don't have much else to add because this really was worded WONDERFULLY.

[gggh0st]

I’ve been sick lately and it’s obviously a burden to those around me. I’m a burden in many ways, but I guess this has been the thing eating away at me.

I have all the symptoms of bronchitis. Yippee. I’ve been dodging going to urgent care for about a week now, because my girlfriend really wants me to go and I really really fucking don’t want to. I don’t trust doctors or hospitals and I know it’s the trauma that’s causing me to act like this about medical shit but I feel like I’m allowed to be scared at least. It’s hard to explain to her, she doesn’t get it. My girlfriend has been in and out of hospitals so much it’s just another thing you have to do for her, she has her own bad memories from hospitals but it’s clear she doesn’t understand my feelings about it and it’s frustrating but I cant blame her. I haven’t been to a hospital in 9 years, or willingly gone to a doctor in 6. I refused to even visit my mom for the birth of my last two siblings because of this overwhelming horror I get from even the thought of being inside a hospital. Hospitals bring bad things, the doctors are mean and the nurses are meaner and nobody listens.

But I’m getting sicker. No fever thank god, but now I’m struggling to hold food down and my coughing fits have turned into me gasping for air and sending myself into a panic attack because I cannot fucking breathe at all. I called out of work today and lost a job opportunity because I finally agreed to go to urgent care because last night I basically woke up choking on my own mucus and unable to breathe for about a minute straight. I finally fucking caved and I want to go, but guess what?

I don’t have a car. My girlfriend doesn’t have a car. A walk to the bus stop is a mile and a half and my girlfriend can’t make that and I won’t go alone. I’m scared to ask my girlfriends brother for a ride because he already has to pick me up from work all the time and he and his fiancé have shit to do today. And my other roommate with a car is busy today and when I mentioned having to go to urgent care he looked annoyed and I told him he wouldn’t be the one taking me.

So much for caring about my body for like 5 seconds. Life is stupid. My guess is I won’t make it to urgent care today, and I would have called out and wasted that time for nothing. Always happens. Whatever lol. I’m just gonna watch tv and sit here and waste away on the couch. I’ll go to work tomorrow, probably hate it. Probably have a few more coughing fits where I stop breathing.

As long as I’m not in anybody’s way I guess?? I dunno. I’m feeling very annoyed at everything as of recent. This is not something I needed to deal with right now, shits hard enough. Money is a bigger problem than ever. I’m tired :p

[shadowsong26fic]

open question: what gave you the idea for "Papa and J-----, August '34"? did anything in particular spark the idea for the fic and do you remember what it was?

So it was actually the product of a rambly conversation with my roommate (who is the one who mostly dragged me into this fandom; i blame her (affectionate)).

I pulled up our Discord logs and this is the conversation in question:

Me: unrelated, and it went in a very weird crossover direction because my brain is what it is, but--even if valjean survived past 1832/33 into the 1840s, he would probably never be super comfortable with. like. getting his picture taken. but he did at one point agree to let cosette draw him (and possibly javert; either together or separate drawings). anyway, it eventually becomes a sort of Treasured Family Heirloom, however much of the story behind it is actually remembered Roommate: which is SUPER adorable on several levels Roommate: although Roommate: did you know Javert actually canonically draws Me: i did not but that is amazing. Me: so possibly there are Two actual images of jean valjean among the family papers--one that cosette did, either of papa and javert together or just papa, and then one that javert did Roommate: yup! Roommate: and possibly a few more did exist and got burnt Me: yeah, quite possibly [edited to remove an unrelated tangent] Me: ((…and then my brain just jumped onto a ‘what if cosette actually became a fairly well-known artist, and some art history nerd in like modern times spots the drawing of valjean and javert just casually hanging on their new friend/boyfriend/girlfriend’s mantle and has a Moment’)) Roommate: ((XD YES))

This conversation also led to An Imperfect Memory, which is why I left that bit in XD

And then I just kept. Poking at the idea; by myself and talking with Roommate some more, and then I realized I was going to have to actually Write The Damn Thing, so here we are XD

ETA because I also found this bit from Provenance in the log and it still makes me giggle so I had to share XD:

cosette at one point is talking to javert and something along the lines of: "i remember, when i was a girl, papa would let me draw him sometimes, because I needed to practice on someone other than the nuns. and he would always praise them and tell me how proud he was, but ask me to make sure no one else ever saw it. because, he told me, 'you may be the next botticelli, chere, but i am certainly no venus.' and i knew it wasn't because he was lying to me--although he might have been viewing my talents with a father's loving eye more than anything else--because he kept all of my other sketches. so i put it down as just another of his eccentricities and destroyed them as he asked."

[nikki-pondtheauthor]

The Side of Princeton

[A College AU where Jazz and Jason are forced to be roommates together. A "Coming-of-Age" fic.] Jazz watched as snow continued to fall around her, so soundlessly in the middle of the night. The campus was mostly empty, with students and faculty members all going home for the holidays, leaving Jazz here to stare and enjoy this beautiful scenery.

“Hey Jazz!” a familiar voice called out to her.

And it was her roommate. And probably her closest friend here at Princeton University.

You’d think for an Ivy League with its reputable background, its housing would be great. But Jazz begged to differ considering her roommate.

When she’d first arrived in Princeton, she had been surprised to find out that she was paired with a male roommate named Jason Todd, a freshman majoring in English—Not like she would ever change it now considering Jason has become one of her closest friends here in Princeton.

Jazz had first complained to the resident adviser about this and was immediately switched to a worse roommate than her first one. An obsessed Fortnite player and not even the Fenton earplugs could block the sounds of her roommate grinding the game in the middle of the night. And Jazz couldn’t even complain again since there were no available housings or rooms left except Jason’s.

And Jazz very much valued well night’s worth of sleep and quiet, thank you very much.

She’s surprised the resident adviser hasn’t caught onto them since opposite genders as roommates were against the dormitory’s policy, though Jason would say he’s got that cover, always leaving her with that particular glint in his eyes, whatever that meant. Jazz did not want to know. Plausible deniability was her best bet.

“Jazz,” he called out, and Jazz blinked in surprise as he stepped closer into her orbit, winding his arms around her.

Jazz let out a little breath and nodded, stepping closer and resting her head on his shoulder, her heart starting to pound madly in her ears. And if her face flushed red as her back faced against his chest, Jazz would forever deny and say it was the cold that was making her cheeks all red.

She was surprised when Jason started to sway their bodies together, humming in her ear, a familiar Christmas tune.

“What are you doing?” She let out a laugh, amused, trying to glance back at him but he only pressed closer to her.

“It’s snowing.”

“So?”

“Blame the holiday spirits. I’m in a mood for some cheers,” he grunted. And Jazz can’t tell whether he’s sarcastic or not. It wasn’t long before he went back to a familiar tune and Jazz couldn’t help but sing it on her head. 

I don't want a lot for Christmas There is just one thing I need I don't care about the presents Underneath the Christmas tree I just want you for my own More than you could ever know Make my wish come true

She was just enjoying being lost in her thoughts while being surrounded by his warmth when Jason suddenly spoke up.

“You don’t have to like me back just because I confessed.” And Jazz tried not to tense. But of course, Jason noticed because he quickly added. “I know I made things awkward between us, ruining our roommate agreement and all that.”

“Yeah…” She won’t deny that.

“I’m not sorry for feeling that way,” he added. 

I don’t expect you to apologize for that, Jazz thought in her head.

“I’m a selfish bastard, I can’t help it. But…I AM sorry that I made you uncomfortable. And that I made things complicated between us.”

“I can’t love you back, Jason,” Jazz uttered after a moment of silence. There’s too much risk if I allow that. I like our little space. Our comforting bubble. Our routine together.

“I know,” he agreed quickly with a bit of heartbreak in his eyes.

She wished she could apologize. She wished she could take her words back if not to see her friend hurting before her, because of her, really, but it needed to be said. That she wasn’t in the right frame of mind to enter a romantic relationship.

Jazz sort of hated Jason for disrupting her equilibrium. She wished she could forget about Jason’s confession to her and just go back to the way they were. But she can’t, no matter how many times she played the oblivious card.

If someone asked Jazz to define her relationship with Jason, she would say:

Our friendship is like a treehouse. A secret ‘you and me’ house. A little escape, high above the world where imagination meets nature’s wonder. A galleon as cozy as can be. Our fort against the maddening world.

“Are you okay with that?” she asked, just to make sure.

“Yeah,” Jason let out a heavy sigh like he already accepted her decision even though it hurt him. “But Jazz…All that matters to me is that you act on how you truly feel.”

What was Jason talking about?

“If you ignore my texts, I’ll let myself be ignored. If you stand me up, I’ll let myself be stood up. And if you dump me, I’ll let myself be dumped. All of that is romance to me…because we’d be doing things together that I can’t do on my own.”

It wasn’t said with resignation. Nor defeated. The words fell from his lips easily as if they’d just been lying in wait for the right moment to make themselves known.

“…okay.”

And Jazz must be crazy for considering it. It’s only going to end with more heartbreaks down the road.

But perhaps Jason was right earlier, blame the holiday spirits, just this once, she’d allow this.

In the spirit of Christmas, I’ll allow it, that’s what Jazz kept telling herself. It was the only gift she could afford to give despite the guilt threatening to swallow her whole. 

His voice dipped with his chin as it pressed against her shoulder. “All I want for Christmas…is you.” he sang softly, sorrow in his tone. 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/52092610/chapters/131749261

❄️ Haunting Heroes DPxDC Winter Advent 2023 ❄️

The Haunting Heroes DPxDC Discord Server is happy to announce its first official event: Haunting Heroes Winter Advent 2023.

❄️ ABOUT THE EVENT ❄️

🔹 What is Winter Advent? A DPxDC (Danny Phantom and DC Comics crossover) winter event to celebrate the winter holidays and the end of the year. Each day has two prompts you can choose from, along with a total of 6 free days where you can create anything you want!

🔹 When? December 10th to December 31st (2023)

🔹 Where?

Tumblr: If you post on Tumblr, feel free to tag this blog @haunting-heroes-creative-games and use the tag #hauntingheroesadvent23 so we can find and reblog your submissions

AO3: You can submit to our AO3 collection. We'll close the collection on January 31st, so you have plenty of time to catch up.

Discord: You can share your work on our Haunting Heroes DPxDC (safe for work 18+) Discord server. To join, just send us an ask

🔹 What kind of submissions can we send?

We welcome all kinds of creations for this event: art, sketches, drabbles, one-shots, multi-chapter mania, you name it! You are free to combine or skip any days of your choosing. You don’t need to post every day in order to join! The most important thing is you have fun and enjoy these last few weeks of 2023.

We are so excited for this upcoming event, and we hope you can join us as we wrap up the end of the year and look forward to a thriving fandom in the next.

Thanks @disillusioneddanny for the calendar!! 🩵

[Full prompt list under the cut]

December 10: Free Day

December 11: Mistletoe // Snowman

December 12: Holiday Songs // Fireplace

December 13: Free Day

December 14: Candles // Winter Holiday

December 15: Stories // Hot Cocoa

December 16: Past/Present/Future // Sledding

December 17: Free Day

December 18: Stars // Gift Exchange

December 19: Workplace Holiday Party // Blankets

December 20: Free Day

December 21: The Grinch // Snowball Fight

December 22: Baking // Movie Night

December 23: Lights // Gingerbread House/Men

December 24: Free Day

December 25: Holiday Market // Cuddles

December 26: Family Time // Decorations

December 27: Free Day

December 28: Sleigh Rides // Love

December 29: Ice Skating // Money

December 30: Resolution // New Year’s Party

December 31: Year in Review