#of what was actually going on over their heads. like. it really is insane to go rewatch s4 and realize how much they don’t understand about

[cowboyheyxu]

caleb is 10 when he realizes that he's a physical touch fiend. the rush he gets when his hand lingers on top of your skin after playing with you is like no other. when he presses into your side while you're reading, his thoughts always circle around one topic: you, you, you. when you would run into his room after a nightmare, caleb was ready to swoop you in his arms and hold you until you fell asleep. every response towards you was involuntary.

caleb is 15 when he realizes that teasing 13-year-old you becomes irresistible. when he holds up your book, pencil, or some other item in the air, he watches as you jump up and down to try and grab it back. he's grown a lot in three years; if he had to estimate, he's a whole head taller than you now—20cm at least.

when you throw yourself onto him in an attempt to get your stuff back, he falters. you're laying against him on the couch, shuffling and moving up and down over his body, and caleb's breath hitches. you're so close and right there.

he's going insane. you can't even stand up for five seconds before caleb pulls you down against him once more, saying something about retaliation or revenge while tickling you to death.

caleb is 20 when he's about to leave for the DAA. there's an air of silence around the house. you've trapped yourself in your room more often, stressing over your senior finals. at least, that's what you've been telling him.

"i'm sorry caleb, i really need to study for this test."

"oh! i totally forgot about that project i had due tonight. shit, i'm sorry caleb. we'll have another movie night soon, okay?"

he doesn't know if you're actually this busy or if you're actually ignoring him. all he does know is that he misses you. he wonders about how he could miss someone who was in the room across from him. you were so close, but so far.

when you found out he was leaving—though you had a grin on your face while congratulating him—caleb knew you were devastated. he wondered if you were secretly mad at him for leaving.

two weeks before his departure, he practically forces you to be around him. he laid down next to you like before. he stroked your hair while you napped on the couch. he teased you and picked you up so you could hit him and grab him like you used to. he always chose to put his arm around you during a movie. he dragged you by the hand all around the neighborhood. he needed to all of that again, a thousand times more.

but at 24, it seems like there may have been a wedge between the two of you. calls are more and more infrequent.

"sorry, space signal sucks," he'd type.

"sorry, i was busy with training!" you'd reply, 2 days later.

he thinks that he would do anything to go back to before. he hasn't felt you in months. he sees you only twice a year.

it's hard. it was excruciating during the first few weeks. not only was he dealing with bootcamp, but he always found himself looking to his side, thinking you'd be there with him. at night, you were there, right next to him in bed.

he imagined that you would whisper words of reassurance in his ear. you'd hold onto him like you used to, when you had nightmares, and wrap your legs between his. there were days where we stroked his necklace, wishing that it was your hand instead. what he would give to have you next to him.

all he wants is to be able to feel you again. he chastises his 10-year-old self for taking you for granted back then. he wants to feel the apples of your cheeks when he caresses your face. once,—when he was 13 (you, 11)—he did that, and he thought you had a fever the way you warmed up. if he could, caleb would build a time machine to go back to that.

caleb is 25 when he is out of your life.

he thinks about you every day. it reminds him of when he was in bootcamp five years ago. it takes him back to when he was fifteen; you were on top of him, and his brain was fried to a crisp. caleb wonders if he's always been this way, because he can recall that at ten, you were still the only thing consuming his mind.

even during his arm repairs, you're there throughout all the pain.

when you discover his metal arm, all of caleb's instincts point to the door. he's spent so long trying to hide it from you: it's the constant long-sleeves (even though they made him incredibly uncomfortable), or making sure to only touch you with his left-hand (even though he wanted to pull you in with both hands).

but he stays. because it's you.

you freeze momentarily, listening to his writhes and moans of pain. caleb only notices you're there when he feels your hands brush his shoulder. he jolts back in surprise, and he sees you looming over him.

he stammers something, not even sure of what he said because you're here. you see him. you see it.

caleb's wanted this for so long. he wanted to see you again, in a state where you were both vulnerable, like old times. however, that moment probably wouldn't have come if he doesn't confess about this, so he relays the details.

you listen attentively, eyes wide with shock as caleb goes on. your hands wrap around his metal one, and he feels nothing. it's agonizing. he sees you examine him so gently. your fingers trace over bolts and plates of metal, lightly stroking up and down his arm. and caleb feels nothing.

how often has he dreamed of this? for you to be touching him again, so intimately and softly? he's stayed up countless nights wishing for you to be here, just so he can put his arms around you in a crushing embrace, only to be incapable of feeling you on one side of his body.

you pull away from his arm, asking if the fleet was accountable. when he doesn't say anything, he feels your weight lift off the bed and go towards the door.

whatever happens next is involuntary. he uses his flesh arm to pull you back, caging you between his forearm and his chest. there's no thought to it, no rationalization. it's just you and him. and he's been deprived of this for so long.

he breathes into the crevice of your neck, and he has half a mind to place his entire face there. he wants to breathe you in after being away from you for so long. no conversations, no contact, no touching. the last time he was this close to you was years ago. he needs this, caleb thinks.

the feel of you against his bare chest is something he cannot seem to describe. it's like he's his teenage (or even kid) self again, where he seems to short-circuit whenever he comes in contact with you. you're still small compared to him, but you fit perfectly like you did a decade ago.

he lets you go after he feels you trembling. you don't hesitate to place your hands on his waist and tackle him onto the bed. you catch him off-guard as you pin him beneath you, looking straight into his eyes.

"hold me," you plead, "with your right hand."

caleb lets out a shaky breath. there are voltages of electricity flowing through him—literally and figuratively. his skin sparks alive when he feels you. will it be the same with the metal arm?

slowly, caleb raises his mechanical arm. he wraps it around you, and feels the movement of your back shift downwards. you released a breath you didn't know you were holding. caleb held his.

you wait patiently before caleb starts running his metal hand up and down your back. you watch him exhale as he continues. you press your forehead on his, and you breathe in tandem with him.

caleb is 25 when he discovers that he loves physical touch.

wow like i didn't expect this to get so long... but like here we are???

i think we need to start embracing touch-starved caleb in all of our fics. this man hasn't seen the love of his life in YEARS (infrequently, anyway) so i think once she touches him (like INTIMATELY) for the first time in years he goes a little cray.

also sorry the ending was rushed i wanted to get this over with bc i intented this to be like 500 words but obviously it got way longer than that. what can i say... this freak has dug into my brain.

[trippinsorrows]

trials of love + one

authors note: how does that saying go? we listen, and we don't judge? well, let's apply that to ari, please. 😭😭😭

one of two maybe? probably. hopefully.

this is a beauty and the beast retelling hands down.

warnings: a tiny bit of fluff, tiny bit of smut, and a hell of a lot of angst

words: 3.5k

song inspo: evermore by josh groban

gif belongs to the wonderfully talented @dejameflorecer

Solana is anxiously chewing down on her bottom lip the moment she hears the front door open and guards greet the man she’s been waiting on all day. Longer than that, but for this particular thing, it’s been just the past few hours. 

Hours she’s spent slaving over the stove, preparing various dishes, doing her absolute best to make sure they’re up to par for Roman’s standards. Wanting, needing to make sure everything is just right, because there’s a small part of her hoping they can actually sit down and have dinner together. Something that’s yet to happen since they wed. 

And, it’s less about sharing a meal together, and more about just talking. They’ve barely done as such since that night, and she has so many questions, and remains just so confused regarding just what happened that night. What changed so drastically between the moment she fell asleep, his arms around her, her head on his chest, and when she awoke the following morning to an empty bed and a voicemail message from Roman’s chief advisor, Paul Heyman, simply stating: “The Tribal Chief has business out of town to attend to. He shall return in a few days.”

Just thinking back on it has her clearing her throat, needing a distraction to avoid trickling back into that dark space.

Looking over her outfit once more, an outfit she took an hour to settle on, she uses one of the pots to check her reflection. She’s never really been that great with makeup—that was always Isabella's thing—but she tried. 

A common theme for her lately.

Trying.

It’s all she really has at this point. She turns the knob on all the burners, allowing the food to simmer versus continuing to heat up when the footsteps become louder. Louder and closer, and then finally, he’s here.

Solana finds herself momentarily distracted. 

Roman is easily one of the most beautiful men she’s ever come across. Tall, broad shouldered, body sculpted by Zeus himself, piercing brown eyes that feel like they’re peeking into her soul, and beautiful, silky black hair he seems to prefer pulled back and out of the way. A true masterpiece of a man. 

If only that beauty extended beyond appearance.

She clears her throat and holds her hands behind her back. “H–hi.” Roman’s gaze is neutral, borderline uninterested. Somehow, it doesn’t deter her. “I—I made dinner.”

To be fair, she’s made dinner every night since the day they said “I do.” And most nights, the food has gone cold given Roman’s return time varies from day to day. When he does return home, that is.

His expression is unchanging. “Okay.” To say she’s disappointed by his indifferent response is an understatement, even if she shouldn’t be. She shouldn’t, because this man has been everything but existed or uninterested from the moment they met only two months ago. Outside of that night. “Not hungry.”

Her shoulders drop at the same moment her throat starts to feel heavy. “But, I—I made all this—” Solana gestures around the kitchen to the various meals she’s prepared and slaved over since early this morning. “I did all this for—”

“Did I ask you to?’ Is his harsh reply, the cruelty of his tone crushing to her prior hope. Hope that maybe, somehow, tonight would be different. That he wouldn’t be so….him.

A foolish thing, clearly.

Roman turns to leave, and she should let him. Should take some satisfaction in watching him walk away, providing a deprivation from the heaviness he seems to always leave her with in their interactions.

Well, not all of them.

For a brief moment, she’s taken back to their wedding night, to the insane and unfamiliar pleasure he brought her. A night she was so nervous about but ended up thoroughly enjoying, only to wake up alone and confused, not seeing or hearing from her husband again for three days. Three days that ended with his return as an almost completely different person than the man who was so kind and patient with her for her first time, for their first time.

“Roman….” Her nails dig into his back, her hips lifting to meet him thrust for thrust, a hunger on both ends that can’t seem to find relief nor release. The depth of him inside her is almost too much yet oh-so addictive. That sinful, partially painful, mostly pleasurable feeling of him driving in and out of her. 

And then he stops, Solana frowning, dislike and confusion abundant.

Pulling out of her, Roman shifts their positions, moving so that he’s on his knees as he pulls her on top of him, effectively entering her again.

“Oh my—” Solana gasps at the sudden re-entry. Her fingers move to his scalp, tugging at his locs, forcing his head back as he guides her on top of him. She forces her mouth shut, trying her best to remain calm, quiet almost. The wrong thing, clearly.

“Naw….” Roman presses his lips against the slick skin of her shoulder. “Let me hear you. I wanna hear how good it feels.”

Good seems like a poor adjective compared to what she’s experiencing. “Mmmm.”

His deep baritone voice chuckles underneath her, those big, strong hands squeezing her ass. “Words, sweetheart. I like words.”

He may like them, but she can’t really speak them. Not right now, at least. “Pl—please.” She whines as he alters his pace, cruelly dragging her across his length, angling his hips so he’s hitting a certain spot inside of her, a critically sensitive spot, that has her eyes watering.

Roman’s lips pepper along her temple, “that’s it….” He continues this awful, wonderful thing, clearly enamored by the sight of her unraveling before him. Roman says something in a language she doesn’t understand. But, his next word is in English unmistakable, affirming, and every bit possessive. “Mine.”

But, that man is gone. Or, maybe he never really existed, and it was all a cruel ruse.

She’s not quite sure which would be worse, at this point.

“What—what did I do?” A soft, vulnerable question. One that makes him stop in his tracks. It’s the perfect opportunity to retreat, to leave it at that and let him leave, but she doesn’t. She can’t. “What—what did I do to make you hate me so much?” Because that’s exactly what it feels like. It’s what she feels. 

Like he hates her.

“I—I—” Her voice catches, Solana helplessly shrugging as he turns around, countenance unchanged despite the emotional crumbling before him. “I—I cook for you, I clean, I—I don’t—I don’t ask you for anything, and yet, it’s—it’s never enough.” And since she’s already on this one way street. “And you brought—you brought that woman here the other night.” For the first time, Roman gives some indication of a reaction as he lifts his chin. “Who—who was she?”

His eyes narrow, his voice even. “You don’t get to question me.”

An unsurprising response, but one she can’t seem to sit with. “I’m your wife.”

Not that that seems to mean anything to him. 

“In name only,” he gruffly replies. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

The sharpness of his words is a deep cut into the sensitivity of her soul. A sensitivity she feels dying out every day that passes living in this house, a kindness about her being swallowed by an unfamiliar feeling.

Hate.

“Roman…..” She shakes her head, eyes closing, a battle between hurt and anger. “I am in this country by myself. I don’t have anyone else but—but you—”

And that’s what does it for him. Makes him, requires him to silence her, to get off this conversation.

“Look,” he cuts into her, both literally and figuratively. “I don’t know what the fuck you think this is, what your expectations are of this, of me, but shit is clearly off base.” He steps forward, and Solana finds herself moving back. “This is an arrangement. I only married you so that I can have an heir. I didn’t want a wife, and I still don’t.” It’s confirmation of what she was already suspecting, but God, does it hurt. “We’ll fuck when we have to and talk when we need to.” It takes a tremendous amount of restraint for her to hold back the tears that are beating at the door of release. “It’s obvious your parents failed to teach you what an arranged marriage means, and that’s on them, so let me teach you now.” Again, he steps forward, his voice dangerously calm as he lays down the unchanging law. “I do what and who I want. You can do the same. I don’t care, so long as you’re safe and don’t embarrass me.” Something flashes too quickly in his eyes for her to process. “Understood?”

She doesn’t say anything, can’t say anything. Not without breaking down before him. Thankfully, by some miracle or maybe some long-awaited mercy from God, she doesn’t have to worry about that. 

Because he turns to walk away, leaving her alone.

Only then does she break down, crying in her hands, uncaring any more of, anything, really.

—----------

Roman hisses when he hits the bag one too many times, feeling a sharp pain in his wrist. He curses quietly, inspecting it, already knowing he doesn’t require any medical attention. Just rest. If only that was something he was capable of. 

If it was something he could have right now, but he can’t. Not with so many thoughts racing throughout his head, not entirely unfamiliar given who he is and what he does.

But, it’s different this time given the content matter.

Solana

His wife. 

The woman whose devastated countenance is something he can’t scrub away from his memory. The gutted look on her face as he so cruelly laid out the reality of their marriage, a reality she was obviously unaware of. A reality that, any woman, would be crushed by.

He tries his best to remind himself that it’s not his fault her family didn’t teach her what an arranged marriage in the crime world constitutes. That it’s nothing but a business arrangement. No feelings or love involved. Just fucking and contracts. Everyone knows that.

Well, not everyone.

Roman sighs, shutting his eyes. He shouldn’t be so surprised. The woman who now shares his last name was a quiet, reserved, passive thing from the day he met her. It annoyed him then, but for some idiotic reason, he figured he could deal with it. Figured she’d be seen and not heard. And she has in many ways, mostly because he continues to go out of his way to avoid her.

Bit, it’s when he can’t that he’s hit with all of it. The kindness. The niceness. All of this unfamiliar shit he doesn’t know what to do with.

The same way he still doesn't know what to do and make of what he felt on their wedding night, a large contributing factor  as to why he continues to avoid her like the plague. Has not allowed himself to touch her, having to settle for the women on his roster, all of them having nothing compared to what filled him as he filled up his wife that night.

There’s something strangely calm and comforting about having her body right next to his, tucked under him, her hand on his stomach and head on his chest.

Roman traces absent patterns against the back of her arm when she asks, almost nervously, “is it….normal to be….so tired after….you know?”

A small smile falls on his handsome face. Her innocence is also unfamiliar but almost intriguing. “With me, yes.”

Her exhaustion after one round, albeit a thorough round, might be something to work on. A natural thing that will improve, her stamina that is, as their sex life grows. And truth be told, given this was her first time, Roman can say he’s slightly impressed by how well she matched him. Her hunger for him. A hunger he most definitely reciprocated.

“Hmmm.” She buries herself further into his chest, and his smile drops. There’s a postcoital warmth about this, about them laying in bed together on their wedding night, him having taken her virginity, and consummated their marriage that feels…..different.

Rarely, if ever, does he engage in pillow talk, so a part of him wonders if that’s it. Not to mention the fact in all of his sexual escapades, never has he fucked anyone raw. Too risky, especially with his extensive list of sexual partners. 

But this, tonight, with her, his now wife, there was no protection. An expected, normal thing given the whole purpose of the marriage.

So maybe it was that.

But, even with that possibility, there’s this small part of him in the foreground, that feels, almost knows, it’s something else.

Something he’s never felt before with a woman. 

Ever. 

“What does your middle name mean?”

It’s the last question he expected her to ask, especially given how exhausted she clearly is, but it’s appreciated, nonetheless.

“Chief,” he answers, partially curious what brought about such a random thing. “Why do you ask?”

She peers up at him, Roman briefly taken back by her beauty. She’s easily the most stunning woman he’s ever come across. “My abuela always says you can say a lot about a person by their name.” The corner of her lips lift into a small, almost playful grin. “I guess yours is fitting.”

He chuckles. “I guess so.” Cursorily dwelling, he asks, “what does yours mean?” And then it hits him, while the priest used his full name during the ceremony, he’s almost certain only her first and last name were used. “What is it anyway?”

Her smile falters, her cheeks tinged with a redness. “I—I don’t really like telling people.” The redness deepens. “It’s….it’s kind of embarrassing.”

Now, he’s even more curious. “How?” She doesn’t say anything, looking down. Roman reminds, more from an informative place than anything. “You know I can find out anything I want, right?” A true statement. He’s not sure if there’s anything in this world he can’t find out if he tries hard enough, and finding out his wife’s middle name is pretty high up there on the list of ease.

It’s an effective reminder, Solana answering in a small voice. “It’s Esmeralda.” The smile on his face is inescapable as she groans quietly, forehead against his chest hiding her pretty face. “I told you.”

“Isn’t that that girl from that kids movie?” He asks, having to dig deep into his limited recollection of movies. “The one with that ugly fucker?"

“Hunchback of Notre Dame.”

“Sure.”

He’s certain he can feel her smiling against him. She then lifts her head, explaining, “it’s actually a Spanish name. Means Emerald.”

Roman says nothing, watching the twinkle of the moonlight in her light brown eyes. 

He moves his hand to her face, thumb brushing against the apple of her cheek. “Fitting….”

Roman closes his eyes. 

He’s tried to push it away. Fuck it away. But imagining her, pretending it’s her body under him doesn’t do shit to satiate his need. A need that starkly contrasts the equally strong desire to stay away from her.

Roman can’t afford to be in that space.  A space where nothing exists except her. It’s too addictive, too captivating, too dangerous.

She is dangerous for him, which is why, until he figures out how to compartmentalize shit, he’s gotta keep his distance.

No matter the gnawing guilt that chews at him for being so cold with her. 

It’s…..it’s for the best. 

Roman calls it the end of his workout and grabs the towel, moving it around his neck to absorb the sweat he’d built up. Phone in one hand, he walks out his home gym, not bothering to open up the unread texts from Sam, Sasha, Bianca or Jade, his finger navigating to his inbox.

He’s halfway down the hall when he hears it. Hears faint voices. Keenly tuned in, Roman redirects his focus from his phone in hand to following the source of the voices, a journey that leads him outside of the door of one of the random, unused bedrooms in the house.

“Oh, mija, we miss you so much. Maybe we can come visit you soon.” Somehow, Roman instantly recognizes the voice. Alma. Solana’s mother. 

“I’d like that,” is Solana’s soft reply. “I—I miss you guys, too.”

Roman frowns. Solana missing her family seems like an understatement. They all seemed so close, Xavier holding his daughter for a good five minutes at the end of the wedding when it was time for them to leave. It’s obvious how connected they all are.

Someone, a woman, a different voice, says something in Spanish, prompted by Solana speaking again, “mommy, can I talk to Isabella alone?” 

More Spanish from all three women and some distorted noise on the other end and then a firm, “okay, she’s gone. Now tell me right now,  Sola, what’s really going on?”

Roman waits for a response, knowing it’s wrong to eavesdrop but also not caring. 

And then he hears it.

A quiet little sniffle that quickly and easily morphs into something tremendously bigger and heavier.

Crying.

Solana is crying.

“I wanna come home, Isabella,” she whimpers. Roman’s eyes shut, his jaw clenching for reasons unknown. “I—I hate it here.” Something that shouldn’t shock him but still fills him with something unidentifiable. “I hate him.”

To overhear someone say they hate him is a tale as old as time for Roman. He’s like by few and hated by more than many. Par the course. But, there’s something about hearing it come from her that doesn’t settle right with him.

That feels….wrong. 

“Solana….” Isabella, Solana’s sister, is every bit empathetic and sympathetic. “I’m so sorry. I would give anything to come take you from there. Has he….has he hurt you?”

“N—no.” Roman can practically picture the way Solana must be rubbing at her eyes, trying to discard away any evidence of the heaviness that weighs her down. “N–not physically anyway.” He’s far too interested and invested, waiting on the edge of his mental seat for her to finish. To know just what she thinks of him, even if he knows damn well in no universe could it be anything remotely good.

Not when she just said she hates him.

And, he right.

“He’s so mean to me, Isa. He—he won’t talk to me, he barely looks at me, and—he’s sleeping with other women.”

Isabella gasps. “What?”

“He had one of them here the other night,” is her quiet, almost embarrassed response. Roman leans back against the door, unaware of why he doesn’t just walk away and deprive himself of hearing all of this. Of feeling all of this.

“That son of a bitch,” Isabella curses. “Hermana, I’d do anything to come take you from that place. You don’t deserve that.”

Silence

And then the tears.

Hearing Solana cry so heavily, feeling almost the weight of her hurt and pain is a newfound experience for Roman, stirring up an emotion he rarely, if ever, feels.

Guilt.

He feels guilty.

“I’m so lonely,” Solana sniffles. “I have no friends. No one to talk to. No job. I’m so far away from you all. I barely ever leave the house. I just—” She’s stopped, silenced by the sound of a dog barking and then whimpering. “Dulce.” There’s such a heavy sorrow in that single word, one that anchors down his frown even deeper. “I miss you so much, baby.”

The dog cries even harder, Isabella saying on the other end, “we’re gonna figure this out, Sola. Okay? I promise.”

Solana doesn’t say anything, and he’s grateful. Grateful for the brief moment of silence that allows him the almost permission he needs to walk away. To at least grant her some privacy given there’s not much else he’s given her.

Nothing good, at least.

Roman ends up upstairs, in his master bathroom, shower running as he leans against the counter, unable to shove away the sound of Solana crying and the image of her looking so devastated in that kitchen.

Because of him.

All because of him.

And while there’s so much from that one overheard conversation to sit on, Roman, for whatever reason, can’t get over how much harder Solana cried seeing the dog. The way the dog cried with her. It has him wondering something he needs answered.

Pulling out his phone, he hits dial and listens to it ring three times before the other person picks up.

“Hello, My Triba—”

“Does Solana have a pet back home?” Roman doesn’t have time for introductions and shit.

His Wise Man answers almost immediately. “She did, but I made sure to inform her family that the Tribal Chief doesn’t like pets, so—”

“Why the fuck would you do that?” Roman snaps. Paul isn’t entirely wrong. Roman has never been big on animals, but to separate Solana from her dog seems….cruel. “You should have fucking asked me.”

Paul stammers on the other end. “I—I apologize, sir. I—”

“I want her dog here by the end of the week.” Roman announces only to think about it, to think about how broken she seems. “By the end of tomorrow.”

“But, sir—”

“Make it fucking happen,” is Roman’s final directive before hanging up the phone and tossing it on the counter. Head thrown back, he closes his eyes.

This marriage shit is about to be a lot harder than he realized.

[1425fivefive]

for the kink prompt - 24 + landoscar plsss🥹your writing is gorgeous and making me discover things abt myself <3 ty in advance

landoscar + inexperienced partner (i was struck by a vision of girl!oscar pegging lando for the first time and this is the end result. for the kink prompts and yes i know this is a month late 💕)

When Oscar grabs the harness and lube, setting them on the bed beside them, she thinks Lando might chicken out. Might kick his heel against her thigh and tell her it was all a joke, that he doesn’t actually want her to fuck him, what the fuck’s she on about. 

But Lando stays perfectly still, sprawled out on the sheets, blinking up at her with wide eyes. His cock’s flushed and hard and huge against his belly and it makes her insane seeing it, knowing that he has all that and he’s still asking her to fuck him. 

He’d begged her for it, really, after he’d seen her strap in the draw of her nightstand. He’d had her pressed up against the wall of her bedroom, her nipples brushing against the cool plaster with each thrust of his hips, his fingers rubbing steady circles over her clit.

“Want you to fuck me like this,” Lando whimpered, breath hot against her ear. “Want you to make me come on your cock.”

She’d shuddered and come so hard she couldn’t catch a full breath, her clit twitching against Lando’s fingers, cunt throbbing around Lando’s cock.

“Oh, fuck,” Lando moaned. “Jesus, Osc.” His lips slid against her neck and then he was coming, his hitched whines echoing through the room.

Oscar had thought maybe it was just a fantasy. Dirty talk that he knew would make her come her brains out.

But Lando had brought it up again while they’d been lying in bed one night. His head was resting on her stomach, Oscar scratching her fingers idly over his scalp, his soft curls tickling her palm.

“I want you to,” Lando whispered. “Want you to fuck me.”

Oscar took a shaky breath, fingers tightening in Lando’s curls. A tiny grin appeared on Lando’s face, like he knew exactly how much it affected her, hearing him say it.

“Has anyone done that to you before?” Oscar asked, voice strained.

“No,” Lando whispered. “But I’ve, like—to myself.”

“Jesus,” Oscar murmured, dragging her hand down the plane of Lando’s back, tracing the dip of his spine. “And did you, uh, like it?”

Lando moaned at that, tipping his face against her stomach.

“Fuck, you did, didn’t you?” Oscar breathed. She ran her palm over the firm skin of Lando’s ass, imagining how he’d look underneath her, his muscles trembling as she pushed in.

“Yeah,” Lando whispered. “Liked it so much, Osc.”

Lando had eaten her out after. Let her swing a leg across his face and grind against his mouth. He’d stared up at her with a dazed expression, eyes huge and wet, and Oscar couldn’t stop imagining what he’d look like getting fucked. The same wide-eyed desperation, blinking up at Oscar with something like awe. She’d come with a choked moan, soaking Lando’s chin.

Now, as Oscar slips a second finger into him, she realizes he was telling the truth. He likes it. He likes it so fucking much.

Oscar tells him as much and he nods, whimpers. He lets go of one knee and brings a hand up to his chest, fingers brushing over his nipple.

Lando takes it so easily that she doesn’t bother with a third finger, just pushes off the bed and grabs the harness.

Normally, Oscar hates this part. Hates how stupid she must look tugging at the straps of the harness, hates how the harness sits right below the bit of flesh on her belly, the bright blue dildo jutting out obscenely. The whole thing makes her want to turn off the lights, shove a pillow over her partner’s face, tell them to look the other way.

But Lando’s watching her with hooded eyes, fingers still toying with his nipple, thighs still splayed open. His cock’s leaking against his stomach and he’s letting out these tiny little sounds that she’s not even sure he knows he’s making, eyes fixed on her strap.

Her breath catches at the sight, cunt throbbing. She wraps a shaking hand around the dildo, stroking once, feeling stupid even as she does it.

But Lando moans, thighs sliding farther apart. When his eyes flick up to hers, they’re dark and glassy, the look he normally gets right when he’s about to come. 

Oscar knees her way onto the bed and presses a palm against the back of Lando’s thigh, holding him open. He’s still hard, still looking up at her with a breathless expression, still brushing over his nipple.

She pushes in and it’s so fucking easy, easier than anything. Just a hint of resistance and then Lando’s opening for her, a whimper spilling out of him as she slides in.

“God,” Oscar breathes, staring down at where the strap’s disappearing inside him, at his cock leaking against his stomach. “You like it.”

“Yeah, fuck,” Lando gasps, hand flying down to grip his cock. She thinks he’s going to stroke himself, but he just grips the tip of his cock hard, the way he does whenever he’s trying to stop himself from coming too soon.

“Oh my god,” Oscar pants and she feels wetness slipping down her thigh, soaking the straps of the harness. “That’s so—” She trails off and starts fucking him in earnest, reveling in the little uh, uh, uh’s she pushes out of him with each pass of her hips. 

He’s still gripping his cock tightly in his fist, eyes squeezed shut, eyebrows knit together, his whole body clenched tight.

He lets out an awful little whimper and she needs to hear him say it, suddenly, needs to know he likes it, needs to know this isn't a joke.

“Lando,” Oscar says, fingers digging into the back of his thigh. “Lando, look at me, please.”

Lando opens his eyes the tiniest bit and he’s squinting up at her, like he can’t look at her full on or he’ll come.

“Tell me you like it,” Oscar begs. “Please, I need to—tell me you like it.”

Lando’s head tips to the side, pink mouth dropping open, panting against the pillow. He tries to say something, something that sounds like I and like, but the sentence fractures into a moan, his cock jerking in his fist.

And then he's coming, spilling all over his stomach in slow, messy pulses, come leaking between his fingers. He's whining, high and frantic, hips rocking back against her even as he comes.

“That’s it,” Oscar moans, watching him shudder underneath her, his face scrunching up, his toes curling, high, hitched whimpers spilling out of him.

It’s one of the things she loves most about him, how he always seems to lose himself completely when he comes, stops caring about whether he looks good. Like he knows the part she likes most is seeing him surrender himself to it.

She pulls out the moment he’s done coming, afraid of pushing him too far, and starts to slide off the bed, planning to grab a washcloth.

But before she can, hands find her hips and she’s being flipped onto her back, Lando sliding down between her legs.

“Lando,” Oscar gasps, fingers flying to his hair. “You don’t—”

Lando looks up at her, his face flushed, curls sticking to his forehead. “I like it,” Lando whispers. He gives her a tiny grin before he leans forward, dragging his tongue over the wetness on her thighs, sliding his lips over the straps of her harness.

“Yeah,” Oscar breathes, tugging him tighter against her. “You like it so fucking much, fuck.”

Lando doesn’t say anything to that, just whimpers and wraps his lips around her clit, blinking up at her with a dazed expression.

[sqh3e]

who would say i love you first in RIIZE

⊹ ࣪ ˖ most likely to least likely ! : 𑁤

riize ot7 : nonidol!riize x reader ♡ head canons !

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

most likely

sungchan :

he’s definitely not afraid to admit he loves you, imagine you two have been dating for a about 2-3 months now and you both have seen eachother at your worst and your best. he would 100% be upfront about his feelings not beating around the bush with you, telling exactly what he wants, which is you. i don’t think this would be something he plans i think it would slip out and he’d just go with it. but of course if you don’t say it back he’d press you about it, not in a serious way but more in a playful way. if you don’t feel the same way he does he would just want to know.

seunghan :

he’d also be open about his feelings towards you, it’s something he isn’t necessarily used to but for you he’ll do anything. he knows that he loves you so why wait to say it? imagine you two have been together for a month now, it would be something he planned to say like the “perfect” way to say i love you. but nothing goes according to plan which would make him visible upset throughout the date until he just eventually says it.

anton :

he would DEFINITELY say it first idk, i think one day he’d get a strong wave of confidence and just say it. i could name a thousand scenarios of how it would go and how he would say it, anton would say it and say it and say it and say it. i feel like after he officially says it any little thing you do he’ll say he loves you, i don’t think this is something he would plan out i think he’d let whatever happens happen. i imagine you both been together a few months now, you were wondering why he didn’t say it yet so you were planning on saying it but he beat you to it.

shotaro :

he’d definitely get shy saying it for the first time, i think he’ll warm up to getting more and more comfortable saying it as the days go by he knew from the first few weeks of you both dating he loves you but he felt like there was never a right time until he realized there will never be a “right time” so he just went for it. i think he would be hesitant being the one to say it first just cause he wants to know if you feel the same way and vice versa which is why he just said it, i he wouldn’t beat around the bush about his feelings he just gets flustered talking about them.

wonbin :

he’s 100% confident with his feelings but he just feels like saying “i love you” is the next step in your relationship, he wants to take the lead and say it but he’s just to shy, he would get flustered just thinking about saying it to you. no matter how much he plans and thinks about it he just can’t seem to gather the confidence to say it, it’s not his feelings it’s just him overthinking things. eventually you tell him you love him and he says it back with no hesitation, makes you think he’s been wanting to say it.

eunseok :

oh i 100000% believe eunseok would NOT hesitate to tell you he loves you, but i also believe he’d want to hear you tell him first idk i get that vibe from him, it’s really 50/50 he’d want you to say it first but he’d also let his pride over take him and he’d want to beat you to it, like he’d want you to say it first but if you actually do it he’d probably go somewhat insane. he knows you love him and vice versa, imagine you two been together for about month and he’s been ready to say the words but never do wait for you too say then then you finally do.

sohee :

sohee wouldn’t tell you he loves you first, he’d be overly shy quickly flustered. even when you tell him i feel like he’d bury his face in your neck, he’d love the affection and of course he’d say it back i don’t think he would say it back the same day or even the next day. he’d say it back though i think he’d be overwhelmed by the affection he likes it, but saying “i love you” is something he’d want to ease into. he’s sure about his feelings but he’s also doesn’t want to feel like he’s rushing something you both aren’t ready hence is why he wouldn’t say it first.

least likely:

authors notes: guys i’m in a riize drought… i miss them so much i’m finna jump AHHH. hope you all are having amazing day or night 🩷

riize taglist (open) : requests (open)

© sqh3e

[fanged-fanfics]

Creatures Commandos platonic request, can you do Dr. Phosphorus x Child! Venom Reader (the only difference between them and OG Venom is that they can withstand extreme heat.), I need this radioactive skeleton man to be a dad again.

Y/N was abandoned by their family as a toddler, which gave them extreme abandonment issues, they get attached to Phosphorus and he lets them because they can touch him and he misses being a dad. You cannot tell me that he DOESN’T miss being a dad.

☆ Of Flames And Little Flickers — Dr. Phosphorus & Venom!GN Reader Fic ☆

Genre: Fluff, Familial || they/them pronouns for reader || No warnings needed

──────.𖥔 ݁ ˖˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ──────

Pokolistan wasn't exactly the worst place to bring a kid, most figured. But most people weren't on a mission to keep an insane purple villainess from tearing up the local government. Phosphorus didn't exactly find the idea of you tagging along to be a fond one— he loved having you around, but this could easily become an assassination mission at the flip of a dime. Considering what you had to go through before, he didn't wanna risk you getting any more hurt. But your abilities were deemed too valuable to go without, so there you were, traveling locked up in the same car with the rest of the monsters.

The long plane trip gave you jetlag more than anything, and you didn't manage to get good sleep after being dragged out so early to get on the flight. After Phosphorus forcefully positioned Weasel to the other side of the car, he made sure you could sit beside him. You were in a staring contest with GI Robot before Phosphorus gently nudged you, pointing out to the window behind his head. "See all that, kid? It's riding on your slimy little shoulders to keep all that from blowing up" he said. He made a motion with his hands to mimic a combustion, flaring a little brighter as he made the sound effect himself. You laughed at the display, and he chuckled while rubbing the top of your head.

"Not too worn out, yeah? We got a big day protecting this princess" he asked you. You shook your head "Nuh-uh. It's just... early". "Well, it's midday by now, kid, a little too late for 'early'" Phosphorus responded back. You groaned, sitting back in your seat "Why did it feel like we got dragged out so soon?" You complained. "Timezones, bud" Phosphorus said "Had to get up early to be here on time. It's a whole new country". You paused, soaking in the reminder of the unfamiliar landscape. You scooted closer to him, grabbing hold of his sleeve. Phosphorus wrapped his arm around you in return. Jeez, it'd been 15 years since he was able to have this. Someone who could stand to be near him, and who actually trusted him enough to lean on.

"You getting tired there, little hellraiser?" He asked, seeing you beginning to nod off. You stubbornly shook your head, mumbling in protest. He chuckled once more, pulling you up close to his side. To the average person, it was deeply scalding and searing to the touch. But to you, it was like being pressed against the warmest heater that could ever be offered. Your wide eyes slowly fall shut, feeling the comforting repetitive motion of Phosphorus petting your back to soothe you. Your head falls onto his form, using him as a foundation to lean on. He'd been that ever since you arrived, really. Support, stability, a shoulder or hand to reach out to. A jaded and crude support beam at times, sure, but he did his best to conduct himself at least a little bit around you.

While you slowly drifted to sleep, Phosphorus kept his gaze on you, seeing how you were able to relax against him. It was a familiar sight, one that made what was left of his heart ache. He looked up, seeing Bride not far at all taking note of it as well. He held a finger over where his mouth used to be to signify quiet. The stitched lady gave a sigh that showed she wasn't very impressed but, well, when was she ever? Phosphorus moved his coat to wrap it around your shoulders for extra protection, using a hand to shield you from the sun. He gently pet your back a bit more before simply keeping his gaze looking around for you both. No one could tell except for Phosphorus himself, but this time, he really was smiling.

[mymarifae]

i was talking about this on twt not too long ago but the hsr fandom has had phainon for not even a full week and already we have managed to dumb him down to a cutesy excitable friendly baby puppy.

now i don't disagree with the dogboy label. however! he is not merely a puppy. he is a deeply neurotic herding dog. give him a "job" to do and keep his mind busy and he's fine. perfectly friendly and playful to a point, maybe a little standoffish or particular about certain things, but like he's fine. just don't let him see the yawning abyss of boredom and discontent writhing inside himself or he'll start getting anxious and once he's anxious he's going to start making up things he NEEDS to do based off an imaginary set of Phainon Rules that no one likes or agrees with. these new "jobs" he has given himself will range from mildly inconvenient to actually genuinely destructive. and also he will periodically attempt to gnaw off one of his own legs out of stress

like. *scratching head loudly* are we looking at the same guy...? phainon is not a bouncy, excitable, happy-go-lucky character. he's amicable and likes to keep the peace, he's generally polite, he seems to genuinely enjoy meeting new people, he likes to play around and joke, but like. he's a deeply troubled, restless man deflecting concern and his own indecision and anxieties with a smile. and personally i felt like his mind was somewhere else in over half the interactions we had with him

because like, he's an inner brooder. whatever disaster befell his home haunts him, weighs him down with every step he tries to take. the chrysos heirs haven't actually won all his loyalty and devotion; that still belongs to his home. so he's got a war of priorities going on in his head at all times. he understands he has a duty and obligation to go save the world or whatever, but... he doesn't... want to? he never asked to be a hero, and he deeply resents the world for forcing him onto this path. he is so, so dissatisfied and so, so close to up and running and vanishing from everyone's radar. this is why nikador felt the need to give him a personalized trial, and this is why i think he's going to fail and the coreflame will go unclaimed (unless mydei stops moping around all the time)

and this is REALLY interesting because aglaea repeatedly describes him as a perfect hero. she's insanely smart and sees through everyone's bullshit. so. she KNOWS he's discontented and restless and anxious and unsure, and for some reason - some piece of information about the many prophecies floating about amphoreus rn - that is what makes him The Perfect Hero. from her perspective anyway. the world apparently needs a hero that doesn't know if he wants to bother saving it. why?

we could be having some fascinating discussions and theories about the implications here and what phainon's role in the prophecy will actually end up being but i. i see we would rather puppy-ify the guy. and not examine him any further than that. ok, that's fine i guess

[ghostgirl-22]

Patrick wearing lingerie with Tashi….

So… this turned into kink really fast I fear. Sorry if this isn’t what you wanted anon 😞

CW: 18+ !NSFW! Toys, mention of spanking, pegging and mild daddy kink. In addition to what it says on the tin

—-

Patrick’s still trying to dig into their lives. Get into every aspect so they can’t take him out again. Arts not home for a week, and Patrick’s wearing his clothes everyday... Is how it’s going. Sometimes wears his underwear, tight little briefs. Art is just a bit smaller than him, thighs, arms…cock. He’s filled out though. A lot. Patrick gets hard when he thinks about it.

Art’s on a ski trip with the whole Donaldson family and Lily. He isn’t ready to say to his parents and sisters and in laws that Patrick likes to sleep in bed with him and his wife. Art doesn’t say Patrick shouldn’t come but they all know he shouldn’t. And Patrick can’t be alone. Patrick doesn’t say he can’t be alone. But they all know he can’t.

So Tashi stays at home. She’s is happy for the excuse not to go…“I’ve got company in town.” Tashi explains, oh so regrettable that she can’t make it. She doesn’t tell them it’s Patrick or Arts mom would’ve made them both come.

So they’re home alone in a lavish townhouse. He’s showered in their bathroom and he’s digging through Arts clothes for something to wear. And all hidden away in the back there’s this garter and tights. Patrick fishes them out. He leaves the walk-in closet and Tashi’s in bed watching some housewives show and painting her nails. Hair loosely pinned up, in an oversized hoodie and short shorts. She looks so pretty it’s unreal. She doesn’t even have to try.

“Where’s the rest of this? I need you to try it on for me.” Patrick demands, holding up the tights.

She looks up, eyes narrowed and then her expression changes to one of amusement. “Where’d you find that?”

“In the back of Arts underwear drawer.”

“You know…” she goes back to painting her nails, “the clothes I get. But you’re insane for wearing his underwear.”

“I’d wear yours if they fit,” Patrick smirks.

She looks up at him again, still amused but something else is there. Patrick can read her like a book. He walks closer, towel wrapped loosely around his waist. “What?” He asks softly.

She bites her lip. “Those are Art’s.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah… it’s a whole set. Pink, satiny or something. It should be in there.”

“Wait…” Patrick starts because he’s actually having a slight mental breakdown. “You mean he wore pink satin, tights and a garter belt and—and pink satin?

“Don’t have a stroke,” Tashi smirks.

“Fuck,” Patrick groans.

“It was like… forever ago. Halloween. A friend from Stanford took us to a drag night. He was freaking out about what to wear. I bought him that but it was too… revealing. He just wore a dress instead.”

“Too revealing?”

“Yeah… actually you should try it on,” Tashi says, carefully. “Check the bottom drawer, towards the back. I think the gown is in there.”

“You think?” Patrick asks, staring at her a moment longer. She’s looking back at him, those pretty brown eyes dilating in real time, he’s obsessed with her. “Bottom drawer?”

“Mmhm,” she says. “It might fit perfectly.”

Patrick smirks and goes back in the closet. The gown is a tiny, entirely see through number. He drops his towel and pulls it over his head. It’s so smooth… satiny and sheer. Tight on his waist, loose in the chest cause he doesn’t have tits. He’s looking at himself in the full length mirror, he’s got hair everywhere that Art is smooth. He doesn’t bother with the tights for that reason.

He does pull on the satin panties, and that is comical, trying to tuck himself into them. His balls and cock are fighting for space. He turns to look at himself from the side. The frills barely fall below his ass. He could just bend over the slightest bit and he’s exposed. He feels his dick starting to swell, sees it in the mirror.

“Did you find it?” Tashi calls from the bedroom.

“Uh huh,” Patrick replies.

Seeing it on himself, all Patrick can think about is Art’s body, the pink stretched over his chest, the skirt not even long enough to hide his ass, or his cock. Patrick with easy access to both. God, he rubs himself just a little as he imagines it. He wants to call Art right now. “Hey Tashi?” He calls.

“Yeah,” she’s closer now. He turns as she enters the closet, slowly taking him in.

“Do I look pretty?” He asks.

She smirks and then cups his nipples. “Pretty as a princess. Wanna give daddy a kiss?”

Patrick laughs. “And you’re daddy?”

“I am when you’re in that pretty dress,” she says playfully pinching his ass. He grins and looks up before gazing back at her and leaning in to kiss her mouth.

”Good girl,” she sighs against his lips.

“Mm, daddy. You ever peg him in this?” Patrick asks.

“I wish, he would’ve absolutely freaked out. I fingered him once while we were fucking… he came so fast he had an existential crisis,” she sighs, working her thumbs idly over his nipples. Patrick takes a breath, he’s sensitive there and the feeling of her fingers and the satin is crazy. Patrick can understand how Art got off so quickly.

“So you expect me to believe he wore this… and there were no consequences?”

She shrugs and walks her finger tips down his waist. “Well… I spanked him.” She says smiling.

“Say more,” Patrick says, curling one of the stray hairs behind her ear.

“I made him bend over the bathroom sink and I told him daddy was gonna spank him. And then I did it. His ass got so red.” She reaches the panties and slides her fingers over the swell of his cock as she looks at him, her eyes all shiny.

“Fuck, seriously?” He breathes, dizzy as she teases him.

“Mmhm. He got so hard. I’d never seen him like that before. Made me wish I had a dick so I coulda fucked him.”

He cradles her face between his hands, “you can fuck me daddy,” he says, softly.

“Yeah?” She says and she leans in and kisses him. It’s more chaotic. He’s walking her back and then she’s resisting, then pushing him back against the mirror.

“You’re so slutty… can’t even hide it from me,” Tashi says, pushing him back hard and gripping his cock. “I can see everything when you wear that for me.”

Patrick sighs. He can’t help but imagine her talking this way to her husband. Tries to imagine how he’d react.

“I just want your dick,” Patrick says, he’s eager and It’s what Art might say to him.

“I know you do,” Tashi smiles. “I actually have one. Stay there. Don’t touch.” She says.

Patrick lingers in the closet. He’s looking at himself again. Skin flushing, he’s tenting the panties, they were barely doing anything to keep him in before, now he might as well be wearing nothing. He rubs the fabric, continuing where Tashi left off with his nipples. Tashi comes back moments later and she’s got a dildo.

“No strap?” Patrick smirks.

“I’ll get it for your birthday,” she says pushing him up against the glass so she can fuck him with it. It’s slick with lubricant and she’s easing it inside. Panties still on.

“I can take more than that daddy.” Patrick teases.

“Can you pretty girl? You’re gonna come all over your pretty dress.” Tashi says softly. And Patrick sorta regrets saying anything, because moments later she’s ramming into his prostate relentlessly. He almost feels his knees buckle after he spurts come all over the glass in one of the most sudden and intense orgasms he’s ever had. He gets on his knees anyway, she drops the dildo and he grabs her by the waist.

“Does he say thank you?” Patrick says, breathlessly.

“He’s very polite.” She smiles, fingers tangling into his hair.

Patrick tugs her shorts and panties down and licks his “thank you daddy” into the wet heat of her cunt.

[fenya-scribbles]

Blind - Part 1

♥--------♥--------♥

Part 2

Pairing: Felix x fem!Reader

Other Characters: Jisung, Minho

Summary: You're not having a great night, but revelations are made and actions have consequences.

Genre: fluff?, friends to lovers

Content warnings: alcohol consumption, jealousy

Word Count: 1,273

A/N: This one got away from me, but I kinda still like it. Also Minsung is a thing here, because have you seen the on stage back hugs? I have. I'm still not okay.

♥--------♥--------♥

You hated parties. Especially when you only knew the person who dragged you there in the first place. And this party in particular turned into more and more of a nightmare by the minute. You were sitting on an uncomfortable plastic chair in the garden of whichever of Felix’s friends hosted the party, and watched Felix talk to an unnervingly pretty girl who made the most obvious heart eyes at him. And you hated everything about this.  

Having a social butterfly as a best friend had always been difficult for your introverted self, but you just couldn’t imagine a life without Felix. He was your bubbly, beautiful, funny ray of sunshine. Your best friend who you trusted with your life. He was also the man you’d been in love with for the past 3 years. And you kept it under wraps as well as you could. Because there wasn’t a chance in hell you would ruin this friendship by confessing to him and finding that he didn’t feel the same.  

But Felix was pretty. He was downright gorgeous. And it went beyond his looks, Felix was pretty on the inside. He was kind, respectful, considerate. He was funny and smart and just wonderful in every conceivable way. When he looked at you with his bright grin, your heart made cartwheels in your chest. When he hugged you, he sent goose bumps all over your body. But he didn’t know. I couldn’t know.  

You took another sip of your mediocre and very alcoholic cocktail and sighed. It was your third glass, and you didn’t know what they put in there, but it sure didn’t work. This was not how you’d imagined the night going. But it wasn’t surprising either. Wherever Felix went, he ended up making new friends and there was always as least one person hitting on him. It was tiring, really, but you couldn’t do anything about it.  

“You look miserable”, a voice said, dragging you from your thoughts. You looked up to find one of Felix’s friends stand in front of you. He looked at you curiously, hair loosely framing his handsome face. “Nah, I’m fine”, you said, trying to get out of the conversation before it had even started. “You’re not though”, he said. “Tell me what’s wrong!” He pouted, giving you his best boba eyes. He was adorable, you had to admit. You sighed.  

“Jisung, right?” He gave you an affirmative hum, as he sat down in the empty chair next to you. “Now, Y/N, what’s wrong? Why are you sad at my party?” He remembered your name. You were always surprised when that happened, but it did drag the smallest smile from your lips. It didn’t last long though, because your eyes wandered back to Felix and the girl. You sighed.  

“I see”, Jisung said, following your line of sight, “you’re crushing on Lixie.” “I’m not!”, you replied too quickly and immediately covered your blushing face with your hands. “You so are”, he said, “and I get it. I’ve been there.” You lowered your hands and stared at him. “What?” He giggled. “Yeah, way back when I first met him. Followed him around like a puppy.” “How did you get over him?” Jisung grinned and pointed towards another guy who was currently opening a beer bottle with a chopstick. “Minho. Showed me was real love is.” “So, I just need to find my Minho?”, you asked. “That depends.” “On?” “Do you want to get over Lixie? Or do you really only want him?” 

Exasperated, you threw your head back and let out a groan. “I see”, Jisung said again, still grinning. You had a feeling he enjoyed this conversation far more than you did. “Why don’t you tell him?”, Jisung asked. “Are you insane?” “Just curious, actually.” You sighed. “He’s my best friend.” Jisung raised his eyebrows. “I know. So?” “So, I don’t want to lose that.” Jisung huffed. “I call bullshit. I’m best friends with Minho. You wouldn’t lose that if you got together.”  

You sighed. “You don’t get it.” “No, I do. You think he doesn’t like you back. Which is ridiculous.” Jisung looked at Felix now, watching him brush something off the pretty girl’s shoulder. “You are insane”, you said, taking another sip of your drink, “And blind.” “Oh, her?”, Jisung said, now actively pointing at the girl who seemingly had Felix wrapped around her finger, going by the way he laughed at her every word. “Nah, he’s just trying to make you jealous. She’s in on it.” 

The grin on Jisung’s face was almost as bright as the one you loved so much on Felix. “What?!” Your eyes wandered from him to Felix and back again. “You’re shitting me.” “No, I’m serious.” “No way! You’ve just had too much to drink.” Jisung huffed. “That’s rich, coming from you.” He gestured at the now empty glass in your hand.  

“What? This stuff does nothing”, you replied with a shrug. He raised an eyebrow. “You sure about that?” “I’m not making up nonsense, now, am I?”, you retorted. Jisung shook his head with a laugh before yelling “Jagi, can you come here for a sec” towards Minho. The older one turned his head, said something to the two guys he’d been talking to and made his way over to you.  

“What’s up?”, he said as he reached you. “She doesn’t believe me that Lix is trying to make her jealous and that Hana is in on it”, Jisung explained. “So, she’s blind?” Jisung let out a short laugh and then boxed his boyfriend in the side. “Be nice, babe.” Minho giggled. “Alright, alright. It’s true”, he said to you, “I heard them plan it out.” “You’re for real?” You stared at him with narrow eyes. “So real”, he replied, and for whatever reason, you believed him.  

You had to blink multiple times to process the information you had just been given. Felix, your best friend, who you’d been in love with for 3 years now, was currently talking and giggling and getting touchy with a pretty girl to make you jealous? How could that be real? It sounded like a wild fantasy to you. A ridiculous dream. Because that would mean that he liked you too. Your heart lurched in your chest at the thought.  

And then, without even noticing it fully, you got up and walked over to him. He beamed when he saw you coming, looking more beautiful than ever and for a moment your knees went weak – thankfully, you didn’t stumble over your own two feet. “You!”, you said when you reached him, finger firmly planted on his chest. “Yes?”, he said, eyebrows raised in anticipation. 

That’s when the alcohol hit. The world started spinning, your legs gave out, your balance was gone in an instant. Suddenly, you were caught mid-fall by two strong and very familiar arms. “Had a bit much to drink, did we?”, Felix said with a smirk. You stared at him, his face so pretty but also slightly blurry. “You!”, you said again, more slurred this time. And you knew there was more you wanted to say, but your brain stopped cooperating. “I think we should call it a night”, Felix giggled.  

The rest of the night was a blur. The alcohol really did a number on you, and at some point you promised yourself to never again drink cocktails with unknown amounts of booze in them. Everything got very hazy and all you were really sure of was that Felix was by your side until your head hit a pillow and your mind drifted into a dreamless sleep. 

♥--------♥--------♥

Masterlist

[gottencents]

010: nobody knows mental illness like a chanel bias

synopsis. SM Entertainment would’ve loved for FALLEN ANGELS and aespa to never share a stage — especially with Chanel possibly "corrupting" their prized “it girl,” Karina.

____________ ____________ ________ ____________

Chanel arrived early again, parked a little ways down from Karina’s place to avoid looking overeager. As she waited, she scrolled through her phone, trying to calm her nerves. Her playlist was blasting, but even the comforting beats of her favorite songs couldn’t drown out the excitement buzzing through her veins.

When Karina walked out of her building, Chanel’s heart practically stopped. She looked effortless, wearing a soft lilac midi dress with sneakers, her hair falling perfectly over her shoulders. Chanel scrambled to get out of the car, nearly dropping her keys in the process.

“You clean up nice,” Karina said, smiling as she approached.

Chanel gestured vaguely at Karina. “I was just about to say the same thing, but you’re making me look underdressed.”

Karina laughed. “I like your style. It’s very ‘cool girl trying not to care but actually caring a lot.’”

“Wow, called out on the spot,” Chanel said, grinning.

They arrived at the cozy Italian restaurant Chanel had picked, and as soon as they sat down, the banter began.

“So, what’s your go-to pasta dish?” Karina asked, her elbow resting lightly on the table.

“Spaghetti,” Chanel said immediately. “But like, with meatballs the size of my fist. What about you?”

“Penne vodka,” Karina replied, glancing at the menu. “But I judge places by their garlic bread.”

“Oh, absolutely,” Chanel said, nodding seriously. “If the garlic bread doesn’t hit, it’s over.”

“Exactly.”

As the waiter brought out their drinks, Karina tilted her head. “So, when did you first realize you wanted to be an idol?”

Chanel took a sip of her water, thinking. “Honestly? When I was like, nine. I saw this performance on TV—it was ridiculous, like all the lights, the outfits, the energy. I thought, ‘I want to make people feel like this.’”

Karina smiled softly. “And now you do.”

Chanel blinked, caught off guard. “Well, yeah, I guess. But what about you? You’re like, the blueprint for idols at this point.”

Karina laughed. “Hardly. But I think I knew around the same age. I always liked performing, but it wasn’t until I got into dance competitions that I thought, ‘Oh, this could be something more.’”

“You’re so good at it,” Chanel said earnestly. “Like, stupidly good. Watching you rehearse last week? Insane.”

“Don’t hype me up too much,” Karina teased, though her cheeks tinted pink.

After dinner, they decided to take a walk along a nearby park trail. The lights from the city reflected off the lake, casting shimmering patterns across the water.

“Okay, real question,” Chanel said, hands stuffed in her jacket pockets. “Do you ever get nervous before performing?”

Karina glanced at her. “All the time. You don’t?”

Chanel snorted. “Girl, I feel like throwing up every time. But it’s like, once I’m out there, it just…fades.”

“Same,” Karina said. “It’s the adrenaline, I think. It takes over.”

“Yeah, and then you’re just vibing,” Chanel said with a laugh. “Unless you trip on stage, which I have. Twice.”

“Twice?” Karina echoed, laughing. “How?”

“The first time, it was my shoelaces. The second time…honestly, I just wasn’t paying attention.”

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” Karina said, shaking her head.

Chanel grinned. “You think I’m cute?”

“Did I stutter?” Karina replied, raising an eyebrow.

“Wow, okay,” Chanel said, pretending to fan herself. “I wasn’t ready for that.”

As they continued walking, the conversation turned more personal.

“What’s something you’ve always wanted to do but haven’t yet?” Karina asked.

Chanel thought for a moment. “Travel more. Like, really travel. Not just for work.”

“Where to?”

“Everywhere,” Chanel said, spreading her arms dramatically. “Europe, South America, maybe even Antarctica. You?”

“Honestly? I want to try surfing,” Karina admitted.

“Surfing?” Chanel repeated, laughing. “You’re full of surprises.”

“Why? You don’t think I could do it?”

“Oh, I think you’d crush it. I just didn’t expect it.”

When they returned to Karina’s building, Chanel hesitated outside the door.

“So, this was fun,” Chanel said, scratching the back of her neck.

“It was,” Karina agreed, her voice soft.

“I, uh…I was thinking…” Chanel trailed off, suddenly nervous.

Karina tilted her head. “Thinking what?”

“That I really want to do this again,” Chanel said quickly, her words tumbling out.

Karina stepped closer, a small smile playing on her lips. “You’re adorable, you know that?”

“I try,” Chanel said, grinning despite herself.

Before she could overthink it, Karina leaned in and kissed her. It was gentle, sweet, and completely disarming. When they pulled apart, Chanel blinked rapidly.

“Did that…just happen?” she asked.

Karina laughed. “Yes, it did.”

“Cool, cool,” Chanel said, her voice higher than usual. “No big deal or anything.”

Karina smiled. “Goodnight, dork.”

“Goodnight, pretty,” Chanel replied, her cheeks hurting from how much she was smiling.

As she walked back to her car, Chanel couldn’t stop replaying the kiss in her mind, already counting down the days until their next date.

____________ ____________ ________ ____________

A/N: texts made to all be incoming on purpose for u to know who talking better <333

Taglist ( closed ) : @saysirhc @awkwardtoafault @yjiminswallet @gtfoiydlyj @1luvkarina @womanl0ver @hazel-tanthamore22 @deuxae @arihiu

[reignpage]

WHY IS MY ROOMIE CATCHING STRAYS???

(and yes bsidez, ventila’s fine 😚)

but while i do cut Choso a very wide berth, seriously wide, i do like to think of myself as somewhat grounded with my fantasizes in that if shit gets too wild or idk compromises my fucking morals 😭😭 that i’d be like “aight, Cho-hoe, I’m heading out ✋😧🤚”

plus, your y/n’s, no matter the jjk man, are never written as innocent blushing naive schoolgirls. yes well Eden au Suguru’s y/n has a lil similarity but she still voices her opinion though it takes her time too. And that’s what I mean, smau or modern au or fic form, y/n’s an adult woman who knows how to set boundaries and she sticks by them, even if another person sets said boundaries. hell, she can be pretty fucking stubborn when she wants to be, to the point where it drives the men mad. so if she felt put off by how roomie Choso was acting, I don’t think it wouldn’t take her too long into them living together to be like “ayo can you not be a creep? you’re harshing my vibe and moreover, bro zoned 😐” I hesitate to use the term in general but especially after the whole debacle it provoked on this page 😭 but it’s like the whole “dub con/non con” debate. I read her texts in a tone of “ugh he’s so annoying 🙄” but with an undertone of amusement rather than “ugh he’s so annoying.” where it’s like genuinely making her uncomfortable. but then again, that’s the way I read it. which is why I appreciated you saying you add just enough consent on the reader’s side to not make it seem like she’s helpless to his provocations. like no, he won’t emotionally manipulate her because she won’t *allow* herself to be. also because guys, he’s a perv, not a psycho perv (he has standards 🙄✋)

but I could be reading into it too much 🤷‍♀️

hygiene aside, since everyone sleeps on my man and I sleep with him, THIS is what y’all don’t SEE

I’m the guitar

I never actually write reader, in any sexual scenario, as being unconsenting. especially with choso, I like to think he'd be with someone who entertains his whims by acting like she doesn't know. it's funny to me when choso thinks he's so slick lol

it's really more like CHOSO? that is a bold and insane thing to say or do but... go off king

same with sukuna and his roommate. she purposely doesn't give him any material to work with because it's hilarious to her when he gets worked up over nothing

[stars4noah]

HALLEY'S COMET- seven.

{WARNINGS}: swearing, wee bit of arguing, LOVE CONFESSION YAY

w.c- 1,379

a.n- SURPRISEEEE SHAWTAYYY!

{TAGLIST}: @lacy1986 @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @chey-h @rumoured-whispers @oobleoob @dontwantthemoney @n0n3xsisting

i sat in my bunk for the rest of the night, trying to fall asleep but i couldn't. instead, i drew in my notebook and wrote down the occasional lyric that popped into my mind.

fuck. this was going to be good.

READER'S POV.

today was another day, which meant yet another unbearable show with noah. i decided to make the most of it, though. i wasn't going to let anything bring me down.

he'd been in a bitchy mood all day, but it really wasn't my place to investigate or stick my nose where it didn't belong. instead, i walked around the arena as i fiddled with my camera, adjusting the settings and making sure it was ready for the show tonight. like always, i wasn't paying a lick of attention to where i was going. despite that, i could feel noah's eyes on me. staring me down like a hawk.

before i knew it, he was approaching me with that scowl on his face.

"why are you so happy today? it's making me sick." he spat.

i raised an eyebrow, stopping in my tracks and looking up at him. "why are you so grumpy?"

"doesn't matter. do you have to be so happy all the time? it's getting on my nerves."

"yes, because unlike someone here, i actually enjoy life." i countered.

"i enjoy life, thank you very much." he said, looking down at me as he crossed his arms. "i just hate hearing you hum and seeing you wandering around like a lost puppy. you're gonna drive me into insanity."

"right." i said, looking back down at my camera.

"why can't you just be miserable like the rest of us?" noah mumbled as he moved closer to me. he was practically towering over me at this point, being at least a foot taller than me.

"not everybody is as miserable as you." i corrected. "and i prefer to focus on the good parts of life rather than the bad."

"what if there aren't any good parts?" he asked. he was being serious, he always saw the world in a negative view. he hated the way things were going, and i could tell.

i raised an eyebrow. "don't sound so miserable. there's not one good part in your life?" i asked.

he rolled his eyes. "it's called depression, sweetheart. ever heard of it?"

"course i have, idiot. what about your parents?"

noah rolled his eyes again. "you think they care? they're part of the reason i ended up like this."

"okay... what about your friends?"

he sighed, looking over at folio, nicholas, and jolly. "i mean— my bandmates are fine. they just don't know how to read a person."

he pointed to folio. "he's too damn happy." he pointed to nicholas. "he doesn't understand sarcasm half the time." he pointed to jolly. "and he's the sweetest guy that you'll ever meet. too damn sweet. "they don't know what I'm going through, or what I'm feeling."

"then tell them." i suggested. "nobody's gonna know what you're going through or if you need help if you keep it bottled up inside all the time."

noah scoffed. "seriously? telling my feelings will make me look weak. they wont understand, anyways. i'll just sound stupid and dramatic."

i furrowed my brows, crossing my arms. "that's not true. you're not stupid or dramatic for asking for help."

he sighed and looked at me again. "you don't know anything about me, okay? you don't know what i'm going through. what i've been through."

"oh, i wonder why? maybe because you refuse to talk about it. grow up, noah. i'm trying to help you, and you're blatantly pushing me away and refusing it." i scoffed.

he frowned deeply. "i am grown. and i didn't ask for your help anyways."

"yes, you're grown physically. mentally? no."

he scowled. "and who are you to tell me these things? you don't know what's going on in my head. don't act like you know me."

"i'm not. i'm trying to help you. let me help you for once." i said, my eyes softening. i knew he was hurting, i knew he was in pain. but i couldn't do anything about it if he didn't let me in.

"well i don't want your help." he snapped back. "i don't need you or your shitty advice. i'm fine on my own."

i shrugged, trying to pretend his words didn't hurt me. "okay." i said, walking off just like that. he didn't want my help? he wouldn't have it.

i could hear him call my name for me to come back, but i ignored him. i was tired and hungry and really not in the mood to deal with his bullshit.

before i knew it, he was coming up behind me, grabbing my wrist. i sighed, turning around. "what?"

he looked at the ground, biting his lip. "i didn't mean it.." he said.

i furrowed my brows. "which part?"

"um.. everything, actually."

i was beyond confused. what the hell was he talking about? he took a deep breath, and i could tell shit was about to go down.

NOAH'S POV.

i stood in front of her, looking at the ground. i knew that if i looked at her, her eyes would be all it took for me to spill everything i ever thought. which i ended up making the mistake of doing. my breath caught in my throat as i looked at her.

"Y/N, i... fuck how do i say this?" i mumbled, running a hand over my face.

"spit it out, noah. i don't have all day."

i took a deep breath, looking back at her. "the real reason i broke it off with bailey.. it because i'm in love with someone else. i knew that bailey couldn't give me what i wanted. she couldn't give me the life i wanted to live, the happiness i know i deserve." i said.

"and how does this come back to me?" she asked.

"you're that someone else." i said.

she froze, looking at me with wide eyes. fuck. i just messed it all up. all because i couldn't keep my mouth shut and i just had to tell her how i felt. good job noah, now you just ruined everything.

which is what i thought before i felt her lips on mine.

oh.

oh.

she feels the same.

i melted into the kiss, my eyes closing as i gently cradled her face. i knew i didn't deserve this. i didn't deserve her love or her patience or anything about her. how could i? i'd been nothing but a huge dick to her for years. how could she ever feel the same?

she pulled away and i looked down at her, breathing slightly heavy. "how..."

"because i know you, noah. i know you never meant to hurt anybody. you just didn't know any better. you didn't know how to confront these feelings. you were confused. and that's okay. it's okay." she said softly.

i could feel tears well in my eyes, and for the first time in a while, i didn't feel so alone. i felt loved. i felt happy. i knew that this was what i wanted for the rest of my life. to be with her. to be loved by her. maybe a marriage and a few kids to top it all off.

woah, too fast.

i took a deep breath, wrapping my arms around her in a tight hug. "thank you.." i whispered.

"for what?" she asked.

"for loving me, despite how i treated you."

she pulled away with that smile i loved oh so much, cradling my face. "don't thank me. thank yourself for deciding to open up. you don't have to be scared, noah. i'm not her." she said softly, and that just made me tear up even more.

i knew she wasn't bailey. bailey couldn't even compare to the way Y/N made me feel. but the reassurance was the only thing i needed to be so sure about the way i felt.

i loved her. and i needed her. more than i needed air.

"now come on," she began. "we have a show to get ready for. then we can pick up right where we left off."

[bbrissonn]

𝐬𝐨 𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧 - 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟑

✩°｡⋆˚⁺ you're really cute

✩°｡⋆˚⁺ real life

✩°｡⋆˚⁺ gabe perreault x camila yanez

✩°｡⋆˚⁺ au masterlist

✩°｡⋆˚⁺ my babies finally interact !!

‎‧₊˚✧[ SEPTEMBER 29, 2023 ]✧˚₊‧

➻❥ tallahasse, fl

"okay, cami, i think you've had enough." your teammate laughed as she reached for the drink you had just taken from a cooler. your team had played a game earlier in the night, easily winning 2-0 against miami university, meaning they were still unbeaten this season. the girls had decided to have a little get together to celebrate the win and the end of the week. it was something small, just the team, a couple of girlfriends and partners, no more than 40 people.

since the beginning of september, you guys had played a game almost every 5 days, but you now had almost a week until your next game, meaning this was the first opportunity to let lose this semester.

"give it back, silly." you giggled as you tried to grab the drink back, resulting in a couple of teammates laughing at the situation.

"come on, lets go home." you roommate said as she grabbed your hand. you attention quickly shifted over to her, a wide smile on your face as you followed her. you all bid your goodbyes before making your way to your dorm, the campus quiet as the two of you walked hand in hand.

"you were like amazing tonight." you gushed, smiling at the defender who had saved your team's butt more times than you can remember.

"so were you, cami." the girl smiled over at you, her eyes looking at you with admiration. you had scored the two goals for your team, which now brought your total to 7 this season.

"i missed you so much this summer!" you exclaimed, swinging your hands together, making your roommate chuckle. this was your second year rooming together, meaning the two of you were insanely close.

"i miss you, too, stargirl." she laughed, making your smile grow even bigger.

"this summer was actually crazy." you sighed, thinking about how surreal it all felt.

"so i've heard." she smirked as the two of you approached your dorm building, making you look over at her with a confused look on your face.

"what do you mean?"

"you know damn well what i'm talking about, girl. that little hockey guy all up in your likes, and all his friends in your comments!" she exclaimed, making your face turn a deep shade of pink.

"it's nothing."

"right, that's why your red like a tomato right now." she joked as the two arrived at your dorm, making your way inside your room.

"shut up."

"look, its quite obvious that you think he's cute too, i mean all your friends were up in his comments, so you guys like have to get married now." she joked as the two of you changed into your night clothe. "and you both know sober you is too shy to make the first move, so i say you should dm him, or at least started by following him."

"now?"

"yes, now. i know i'm supposed to stop you from doing stupid shit right now, but you guys would be cute together. so i say go for it." she explained before getting in bed. you stood at the edge of your bed, her words replaying in your head.

she was right. the boy was clearly into you, so truly what's the worse that could happen. and you would be lying if you said a part of you hasn't been hoping you would see a message from him appear in your inbox.

you softly got into bed, the two of you wishing each other good night before your roommate fell asleep. meanwhile, you laid in bed, your eyes wide open as you stared at the celling.

fuck it.

―┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆―

➻❥ chestnut hill, mass

gabe was currently sitting on one of the couches in one of the senior's house, a cup in hand as he watched some of guys mess around with each other. will and ryan were sitting next to him, the blond boy between the two. it was the last weekend before the season started, meaning the upperclassmen claimed they had to make the most out of it.

but gabe still wasn't used to partying every weekend, his body still tired from all the practices this week, and honestly he did not want to be here right now. he wanted to be in bed, watching his show until he feel asleep. but here he was, the early hours of saturday rolling around, sitting in the chaos of drunk college students.

his phone buzz in his pocket, making his brows fur slightly. the only people who would text him this late are in the same house as him. his family was certainly asleep, and his friends from home never texted this late.

his confused look soon turned into one of shock as his eyes read over the two new notifications on his home screen. there was no way this was happening right now.

"holy shit." the boy gasped, making his two best friend look over at him.

"what's up?"

"holy shit." the boy repeated, his body not moving an inch.

"gabo, what's going on?" ryan asked, reaching over will to wave his hand in front of gabe's face. the boy didn't answer them, instead clicking on the first notification, his phone opening and his instagram popping up on his screen.

➻❥ camila_yanez started following you

"oh, shit." will gasped with a smile as his eyes looked over at his friend's phone. in a moment of panic, gabe closed his phone quickly, throwing it into the blond's lap. ryan was quick to snatch it, opening the home screen to put in the boys password, but the remaining notification caught his eyes.

➻❥ camila_yanez wants to send you a message

"oh... my... god!" ryan laughed, handing gabe his phone back. the boy just looked over, looking clueless as ever.

"what do you want me to do with that!"

"open her message, duh." ryan said, making will look over at him. he hadn't seen anything about a message. the blond was quick to grab the phone, his eyes quickly finding the notification, his eyes growing wide.

"dude!"

the commotion between the three freshman had quickly caught the attention of some of their teammates.

"what's going on over here?" cutter asked, as he, along with a couple of juniors and seniors, approached the three.

"the girl gabo's been crushing on followed her back!" ryan was quick to say, a smirk on his face as all the guys quickly looked over at gabe. he still hadn't moved, his eyes staring at the ground as millions of thoughts raced through his mind.

"she dmed him, too!" will added, earning gabe a couple of slaps on the back.

"atta boy, gabo!"

"is he okay?" eamon asked, poking gabe gently on the cheek until the boy finally looked up at them.

"huh?" the french boy said, snapping out of his trance. the ground around him chuckled slightly, teasing smiles on their faces.

"you okay there, bud?"

"yeah... yeah i'm okay. i should... um." the boy trailed off, looking for his phone. he snatched out of will's hands quickly before standing up. "i should go." he finished, will and ryan quick to follow him as he left the house.

"what do you want?" gabe asked as he turned around. at first he thought his best friends were just going to go somewhere else in the house, but as his feet hit the sidewalk and he still heard them giggling behind him, it was clear they were following him.

"we're coming with you." ryan said before placing his arm around gabe's shoulder, forcing the boy to keep walking. will appeared on the other side, a grin on his face.

"why?"

"dude, we've been here since day one. we gotta know what she said."

"you're not knowing shit." gabe said, making the two boys scoff slightly.

the two eventually convinced gabe to be there when he opened the message, he accepted mainly just to get them to shut up, but still. this led to them all sitting on gabe's bed in his and will's shared dorm room. it was almost 2 in the morning, and the boy was debating wether or not he should just wait until later in the day.

"dude, just do it!"

"okay, okay." gabe mumbled before finally opening your dm.

cami

hiiiii

ur like reallyyyy cute yk ☺️

"what do i say?" gabe freaked out as he showed the two boys the messages. will chuckled slightly as he read the message, while ryan almost snorted at his friend's behaviour.

"well first, you can greet her, you know." ryan said, pushing the phone back towards the perreault boy.

"right, yeah."

"and then tell her she's pretty!" will added, his smile growing as he watched gabe type on his phone, a look of concentration on his face.

GP

heyyy

ur reallyyyy pretty yk

"why'd you just say the same thing she said?" ryan asked, almost wanting to hit his friend across the head.

"you said to tell her she's pretty!"

"yeah, but not like that, dude. now you just look desperate."

"she answered!" the boy gasped, making the two other boys light up.

"dude, you cannot fuck this up."

cami

awhh ur so adorable

thank youuu

wait why are you up so late 🤨

GP

why are you up so late?

cami

😮😮

toucher

had a little night with friends

"okay, you can leave now i've got this." gabe mumbled, shooing his best friend away before looking back down at his phone. ryan and will has a silent conversation with their eyes as will made his way over to his own bed. ryan eventually gave up, rolling his eyes before slapping gabe on the knee, a way of telling him goodbye, the boy barely reacting. he then dapped up will before leaving the two alone.

will made himself comfortable as he opened tiktok, scrolling for a bit while his eyes kept looking over at the perreault boy every couple of videos. he hadn't seen him smile this big in a long time, the last probably being when they won the gold medal at the u-18 worlds.

GP

special occasion?

cami

no no

just wanted to have a little fun after our game

GP

how'd it go?

you guys had won 2-0, he knew that, he also knew you had scored both goals.

cami

not our best but we won

GP

how's the season been?

he knew that too. you guys still had not lost a game so far, but there was no way he'd ever admit to knowing that.

cami

couldnt of had asked for a better start honestly

its been amazing

what abt urs?

gabe found himself blushing at your question, although he didn't really understand why.

GP

we start next weekend

cami

oh 😭😭

honestly i dont know much about hockey

GP

im guessing it's not really popular in spain?

cami

oh so yk where im from 🤭

GP

pretty hard not to

you were everywhere on tv during summer

cami

you watched?

GP

im gonna be totally honest i just turned it on cause there was nothing else

but then you kinda made an impression...

cami

did i now

you and your friends have made quite an impression too

GP

im sorry about them

they can be a little... out of control sometimes

cami

😭😭

its all good

honestly im flattered

it appears im quite famous in your circle

care to share why that is?

GP

have you looked in the mirror lately?

cami

im flattered truly ☺️

have you taken a look in the mirror lately?

GP

depends

why're you asking

cami

you make quite the impression as well gabe

the boy felt his heart skip a bit slightly as his eyes read his name over and over. he knew he shouldn't be reacting like this, after all his name was in his user, so it was a given that you knew. but still, he couldn't help it.

GP

yeah?

what abt rn?

still making an impression?

cami

definitely

GP

good

cami

i gotta go, my roommates abt to throw a shoe at me because phone time is over or wtv :(

GP

it's all good

cami

am i gonna hear from you again?

GP

do you want to?

cami

duhhh

why do you think i message you pretty

GP

good night cami

cami

night night gabe

[randomperson0k]

jekyll andh yde jjekyln and yyde hdye hyde jelyl and hyde jekyll hyde

info below wwww

every comment i get about these not being accurate to the og characters ill draw jekyll in a pink dress and cat ears dancing to taylor swift . i dont like taylor swift no not really i just find it funny to think that jekyll listens to taylor swift and britney spears . yeah. and lady gaga too. that evil 43 year old man would totally love that type of stuff

uh yes this was my old tgs headcanon world if you recognise these from that hi. but i kind of got out of tgs a bit due to personal reasons so i grabbed the previous headcanonned characters and flipped them upside down and made them into their own thing outside of tgs. i think i did a good job? i didnt really want to associate them with tgs anymore so i just took every creative turn that squirmed itself into my head. and it helped that my previous tgs headcanon world strayed really far from the og in the first place and was kind of already its own thing. so yeah i kind of like what i have so far im pretty happy with it . i really like uttersons character so far and im excited to start on emma and lucy [my hatred for the j&h musical has fuelled me to make my own version of them] im especially excited for emma i have so many ideas for her character and just. ideas to actually make her even a character and not just a plot role for jekyll. i love you emma you deserved so much better ill give you a gun and make you a werewolf and everything you deserve everything cool and awesome babygirl !!!! ill even give you a cool spiked jacket that your girlfriend gave you!!!! everything for you !!!!

basic story plot for this side of the story [since the story is split across multiple perspectives and these are just some of the many] uhhh jekyll goes crazy and fully stays transformed as hyde and falls into really bad habits and addiction as hyde . it starts small at first but when lanyon dies it hits the tipping point and they fully give up on trying. jekyll is considered dead due to being missing for a good chunk of months and hyde inherits the stuff from the will and takes over the life their previous persona had [very messily though since hyde is a complete wreck right now]

meanwhile utterson in the background is fully loosing her mind in depression [thinks he lost her two only friends. fair enough] but one day sees jekyll in the street running even though jekyll has been considered dead for like months by then. utterson then gets real bad tunnel vision on finding jekyll and dedicates everything to finding jekyll. spends all her time locked in her room just looking for leads. drops her job and everything to dedicate herself to this. his main lead and who he has to team up with to find jekyll?: hyde [said person very much so not wanting to team up with utterson due to who theyre hunting but only does it because theyre still clinging to and missing some of the old parts of their previous identity as jekyll with one of those parts being their old friendship with utterson] anyways they basically go on a big little detective goose chase until utterson gets pissed at hyde after figuring out some stuff and they fight and split off from eachother and hyde like gets kidnapped immediately after that because lets be real nobody really likes that guy they have so many enemys. what a loser

oh and yeah uh lanyon gets brought back to life frankie style and just becomes a minion for this guy kind of. im still developing them. basically theyre hunting hyde though because same as everybody they think hyde killed jekyll . and lanyon kind of lost their marbles from the whole getting brought back process and lost a lot of their memorys. ok guys cmon literally all my lanyons are sweethearts who just so happen to be friends with insane people [utterson and hyde] i deserve to make a adaptation where all 3 of them are equally insane. ok. i deserve it for all the normal lanyons ive made.

i wanted to make jekyll really creepy and also affected by the soul split thing and not just hyde so jekyll is kinda weird in this one. he looks younger in some images and thats done on purpose . when hes being creepy he looks younger. uh i have a doodle of what he looks like when hes getting 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 and being very not normal . im not adding it. to the main post because i dont like the art it looks STINKY !!!

you can see all my design notes on the side lol i like to yell at myself in my notes

feeling cute so ill probably kill them all as the storys ending yeah somebodys gotta humble jekyll and beat his head on the curve im just doing gods work yknow

kidding maybe

still deciding. vote to decide if jekyll gets beat in the street or not !!!

ok im ending this i gotta stop talking or ill never stop

im VERY tired right now. hit like and subscribe for more epic bangers from yours truely!!!!

[rex-goes-silly]

first relisten of tma season 1 goes so hard omg (wife don't read this, its spoilers for you still)

all these statements i initially brushed off because i was too enthralled in the prentiss arc, who i forgot half of and didn't care to analyze and didn't really make sense and only listened to to get to the juicy character interactions, i can only now realize how much they were connected. you can tell exactly when jon starts becoming the archivist, you can tell when johnny had the fears set in place, all the fear talk, all the obvious hints at how it all worked and... it completely flew over my head until now. like wdym the weird tunnels with the goth guy that i didn't really understand where a physical embodiment of smirks 13???? wymd jane explicitly spoke about the corruption AND the beholding as we know it in her statement?? wdym someone actually held a ritual to kill gertrude in the woods and when she did die the dark also had a big moment??? wdym trevor and julia where the weird guys at the nursing home???? i forgot about ALL of this. it took me three seasons to grasp at what was going on and who was who, and missed out on so much.

and dont even get me started on constantly being aware of what the statements mean. how jon gradually acts them out more and more, how they affected who told them. how the repetitive wording and similar descriptions are just the eye's way of making them describe what happened. how they "casually" relate to whats happens in the previous one, showing up at just the right time. god I'm insane about this

[4lexnilsen]

“you’re being ridiculous,  helena.”   alex can only roll his eyes and dismissively wave his hand,  trying to understand what it is that she’d want him to do when his friend is under constant scrutiny for simply existing.   “she’d never lay a hand on you!   and if she did,  i surely wouldn’t just sit by and praise her for it or excuse her behavior.”   he doesn’t allow anyone to speak poorly about helena in his presence,  so why would he allow helena to belittle his other friends?   he puts down what’s left of the churro that he’d been munching on and wipes his lips with the back of his hand,  trying to ignore the spectacle that she’s putting on.   the tears that he’s glimpsed in her doe-like hues must be fake —   this spoiled brat isn’t used to people disagreeing with her or talking back.   still,  his heart aches but he’s too angry to feel much sympathy.   who gave her the right to play freud and analyze his life choices?   project her own insecurities onto him?   “ohhh,  helena wayne said her first bad word.   what would daddy think about it?”   he cruelly taunts,  figuring two can play this game of blatant disrespect.   

“who’s been treating you like shit?   name one person.   sarah?   she avoids you like the plague!   poppy?   that’s all in your head.   she doesn’t have any personal agenda against you.   she just wants to make sure that i’m not replacing her!   for someone who constantly talks about feelings and tries to pick apart every single one,  you have no empathy for her.   how do you know they talk behind your back?   see?   you’re doing it again!   putting words in people’s mouths.   i’ve never heard them say anything rude about you.   period.   again,  sarah doesn’t know you and poppy isn’t hellbent on making a villain out of you.”   he’s reaching for the door,  ready to just get out of her car and remove himself from this insane situation before she begins to throw other things at him.   all because he’s a good friend.   “which one of us are you talking about right now?   a professional guilter and manipulator with a victim complex.   that’s all you,  helena.   oh,  look at me,  i’m so friendly and sweet and i’ve convinced myself other girls just hate me.   do you even hear yourself?”   he zips up his jacket,  shaking his head because she sounds psychotic.   absolutely psychotic.

“a guy with a whole lot of issues?   jesus christ.   you really are crazy.   i’ve got issues because i go on vacation with my best friend who just so happens to be a woman?   i don’t know what misogynistic bullshit you’ve been taught in private schools,  but men and women can be just friends.”   if he only allowed himself a glimpse into the darkest parts of his soul,  he’d know that she’s right about everything —   he does have plenty of issues and trauma that has never been fully processed.   but something that his consciousness refuses to acknowledge.   “sharing a bed.   oh,  how evil of us that was.   right,  because sleeping in one bed means you’re fucking,  yeah?   i have back problems,  helena.   it was an honest mistake during the booking process,  not some great scheme to get into each other’s pants while sarah’s waiting at home.   we slept in one bed because i couldn’t sleep on the floor or the tiny sofa because of my back,  and i sure as hell wasn’t gonna let poppy take the floor.   just like i wouldn’t let you do it.”   he can’t believe she’s actually stalked those pictures,  read the captions.   that’s obsessive behavior.

“unlock the door,  i’m going home.   i can’t handle more of this bullshit.   you’ve offended me enough times for one day.”   but just as he says it,  the car roars to life and he’s squished back into the seat,  fingers digging into the leather beneath.   suddenly,  the temperature reaches a hundred degrees as his heart begins to race.   “what are you doing?   this is crazy.   you’ve lost your mind.   pull over.   i said PULL OVER!”   he doesn’t raise his voice often,  but he’s losing sanity and can’t help it.   is she planning on crashing the car?   he wouldn’t put it past her.   “helena,  slow down.   there’s other cars in the street!   slow down.   what the fuck?!”   he generally hates being the one in the passenger’s seat,  but now…   he’s certain this is how he goes —   all because he got in the car with an insane person.   “give me that fucking thing.   pay attention to the road!”   he unceremoniously snatches her phone,  his left hand grabbing the steering wheel because he doesn’t trust her one bit right now.   “pull over,  i’m getting out.   PULL.   OVER.”

"and it's crazy how you really are the poppy wright DEFENSE attorney." a dry laugh emits. "if she slapped me in the face, you'd have all sorts of defenses even then... 'oh, judge. it's just because she doesn't trust easily!'" mocking him, he makes her head absolutely ACHE and her stomach twist and turn deeply in disgust acting like this. "of course i'm going to talk things–" trying to fight back the urge to curse as angry tears well in her eyes– quickly swiping them away, but forget that, he just gaslighted her ONCE again. the pulse in her neck quivering, throat hardening, before exploding, "of course i'm going to talk shit," forget trying to hold back and saying 'THINGS', "when someone treats me like shit! i don't need to be revoltingly guilted by you for not being a 'girls girl' once it gets to that point. i won't let anyone treat me like shit, whether you like it or not. whether you accuse me of bullshit like that or not. and you... you're such a liar. when i know for certain they say things. you're trying to guilt me all while LYING, alex?!" what kind of terrible game is he trying to play with her? it's flabbergasting and insulting, how STUPID he thinks she is. to play like these girls are so innocent, trying to make her the villain while he in fact is aware he's lying. it leaves her staring at him wide eyed, angry and shocked like she doesn't even know who he is. it's no wonder her instincts had a funny idea about him, he's not that quiet nice guy he portrays so well. he wears a mask. "good idea. i should switch career paths all in order to diagnose what kind of mental illness i'm witnessing. you being a professional guilter, manipulator and a liar."

"doing what? sitting in my car? listening to you talking like a guy with a whole lot of issues? at least we're not on a vacation, sharing a bed right now." like in that picture his friend posted of them on instagram she caught a long time ago. "i told you that you project and now you go and repeat it like a toddler learning a new word because it MUST'VE hit a nerve. and now you entirely misuse the word so often, that it's criminal." rolling her eyes at how ignorant he sounds. "it isn't your POINT of view when it's just you being an accusatory ASSHOLE."

the fourth curse word spewing from her tonight, sounding foreign coming from her voice but who cares about being polite and put well together when inner fury and rage is boiling her blood. no one has ever pushed her so far off the edge like this. heat slithering up her back in hot waves, pooling in her cheeks– temples throbbing. unable to take all of these accusatory and untrue comments, being twisted like she's the one in the wrong from his clique to him making her feel like it's her FAULT why harry treats her the way he does. all at the wrong time he's offering they go visit sarah and harry... of course her ANGER thinks first before anything else. "fine!" mustang is already started and humming, all it takes is helena's right hand to fly to the gear shift and her foot stomping the acceleration to make it growl alive as the car takes off. "two things at once?" how twisted is he to say something like that to her? "i'll show you three things at once then." how to drive chicago like a speed demon without getting caught. let's see who needs control now as the speedometer climbs to 45, 55, 65... let's SEE WHO is controlling. picking up her phone while she's driving and speed still races to the next digit, going to a specific app while she's at it. typing in sarah's name to get her address since she's going to need it.

[g00seg1raffe]

So there was a post a while back about Ben Solo always being told "don't do (x), that's how uncle luke lost his hand" when he was a kid - and I raise you: Elrond and Elros being told "don't do (x), that's how Maedhros lost his hand"??

Like, at Amon Ereb when the twins were newly acquired and refusing to eat their vegetables and Maglor is Mag-mothering them until Erestor, feral half-sane clinically depressed anarchist Avari hostage/patient/infiltrator and Certified Little Shit, hits em with:

"I would listen to the Lord Maglor, winyamor, he well knows the dangers that come to young elflings who don't eat enough vegetables - after all, that's how his brother lost his hand."

Elrond looks conflicted. Elros squints suspiciously. "Truly?"

Erestor, practically comatose since the massacre but ultimately saved from Fading by the biological compulsion to fuck with you, lays a hand over his heart. "I would never lie about such a thing! Just what do you take me for? This is a true tale and a grave warning - the Lord Maedhros' hand was tragically lost in the days of his youth, whilst he was still growing as you are. He refused to eat his vegetables and so, cruelly deprived of the strength it needed to grow strong, his body started to fall apart! First his fingers, then his thumb, and then his palm and wrist - all turned blue and dropped off!"

"No!" Elrond gasps. Elros looks both terrified and impressed. Maglor's face is scrunched up into something that the twins probably interpret as pained - at reminder of the horrors of limbs falling off! - but is actually just him busting a rib trying not to laugh.

"Yes!" Erestor cries with relish. "And it never grew back. All because he didn't eat his vegetables. Isn't that right, Lord Maedhros?"

Maedhros, a looming terror at the head of the table, scarred and solemn and impenetrable as his fortresses, narrows his eyes consideringly at the unfolding shenanigans and the rascal behind it. His conclusion? Fuck it. He gives a slow, solemn nod. Completely deadpan and exaggeratedly formal, because it may have been centuries since he last had his brothers smothering laughter at political dinners but the Finwëan sense of humour, once caught, is not an ailment easily cured.

Maglor conceals his wheezes behind his goblet as Erestor nods sagely to the wide-eyed twins, who suddenly seem a sight more interested in their vegetables.