#remember to take regular breaks and be kind to yourself

[zhongrin]

WAIT HELP 😭

YOUR FICS GET ME WEAK IN MY FUCKING KNEES NO LIKE YOU DONT UNDERSTAND BRO. YOUR ACC IS THE ONLY REASON WHY IM NOT KILLING MYSELF DURING FINALS

i.... please don't hinge on my blog for such an important and precious existence that is your life 😭

[ edit: op has clarified it was a /j, we're all good ]

[ohbo-ohno]

3.5k of cbf-turned-bully!soap x reader, inspired by this (very old) ask to my fave ever <3 (read on ao3)

tags: dubcon, dirty talk, masturbation, references to bullying, breaking and entering, rough sex, overstimulation

You’re still nearly shaking with frustration as you settle beneath your sheets, fingers twitching against your stomach and your jaw clenched tight.

You are not going to touch yourself. You’re not. There is no way in hell that you’re coming home from seeing Johnny fucking MacTavish for the first time in years and masturbating. It’s not happening.

…Well, you are awfully keyed up.

“Fucking bastard,” you hiss to yourself, frustration only growing as you shimmy down your loose shorts. You tell yourself firmly that this has absolutely nothing to do with the reappearence of your greatest nemesis, and try not to grind your teeth. You hadn’t even spoken to the man - just a glance of him had you hissing and ducking behind a different aisle at the supermarket - and you’re already riled by him. It’d be embarrassing if you weren’t nearly too horny to think.

You take a deep breath and rest your fingers over your slit, closing your eyes and letting your mind wander. You touch yourself slowly, fingers carefully spreading your lips as you let your mind wander. With your free hand you tug open your bedside drawer, tugging out your favorite toy and dragging it down your stomach.

Your movements are measured and familiar as your usual fantasies play across the backs of your eyes. You give yourself several long moments to slicken, coaxing more and more from your body with nimble fingers and quick circles.

In your mind, there’s a large body over yours and something just thick enough to let you feel the sting of a stretch inside of you, your breasts pushing against his chest, soft grunts in your ears.

Your breathing hitches, hips working against your palm as the fantasy starts to become more clear. He’s big, both above you and inside of you - only halfway in and already tugging you near the edge. His hands are on either side of your head, caging you in so all you can see is his tan skin, his rippling muscles.

You bite your lip to hold back a moan, eyelids fluttering. His bright eyes roll back when he pulls away enough for you to see his face. You lift one hand to your breast, the other gripping his head and both of you moan when you tug. The drag of his cock inside of you is perfect, his weight over you, the heat absolutely pouring over him…

His head drops back down when you let go of his hair, and his lips curve up into a smile as he looks down at you.

You nearly screech when you recognize him, throwing both hands away from your body and your eyes flying open to stare at your dark cieling. Your cunt and nipple throb, feeling quite suddenly neglected, but your heart isracing for an entirely different reason.

No. No. It’s one thing to satisfy your own needs after seeing the man, it’s another to… God, you can hardly even think it - to fantasize about the man and fuck yourself to him. 

“Fuck,” you whisper, desire rapidly cooling. Without Johnny himself in front of you - all six feet of him, muscular and masculine as he’s grown up to be - it’s easier to remember just how terrible he was to you all those years in school. There’s no sharp jawline and cute scruff to distract you from the memory of how he’d steal your clothes before you could change in gym class, leaving you with only those embarrassingly tiny athletic shorts for the rest of the day.

You huff as you let your legs fall closed again, the mood well and truly dissipating now. All you’ve got left is regular frustration, instead of the fun kind.

A sharp tap at the window jerks you out of your pouting, and you yank your blankets up to cover what little skin is showing in a panic, the slick dildo resting on your thighs. The room is silent for a moment, absolutely still except for the fan in the corner that’s been blowing for years, until there’s another tap.

You don’t realize what it is until the tap turns into a thunk. Then, you can hardly bite back your yelp. You’re nearly paralyzed with fear as the sound turns into a sort of… jangling almost, clearly coming from the one window in your bedroom.

Back pressed against your headboard, you can do nothing but think of all the things you should be doing as the curtains start blowing more noticeably, wind pouring into the room.

You’re just sucking in a breath to scream when Johnny MacTavish pops out from behind the curtain, combat boots loud against the wood flooring.

“Same old broken lock, huh, bonnie?” He smirks, strolling into your room like he belongs, like he used to. “Be honest now, you were just waiting here for me, weren’t you?”

You’re gaping like a fish, you know it, but you can’t help but stare at him wide-eyed.

The last time John MacTavish was in your bedroom, he was at least a foot shorter and a hell of a lot more welcome. The two of you had been eleven when he’d still been willing to be near you, but as soon as you’d moved on to elementary school - as soon as boys became boys and girls became girls, and kids had crushes instead of cooties - he’d stopped coming around. It was only a few years after that, in high school, that he’d gone from a friend you used to have to the boy who made school miserable.

And there is not one single reason you can think of to justify him sneaking in, the way he used to. Not now, all these years later with so much - said and unsaid - lingering between you.

None of that seems to weigh on him, though. He’s cocky as ever, doesn’t even bother to take off his boots as he saunters towards your bed, giving you a long look that can only be described as salacious as he leans himself against the foot of your bed.

It’s pure instinct to grope blindy at your bedside table, grabbing the first thing your fingertips touch and launching it at his head.

His instincts are sharp enough the he catches the bottle of water before it can do any real damage, but the small distraction gives you enough time to stumble to your feet, blanket held protectively in front of your body - you’re not completely nude, but a tanktop and panties aren’t exactly what you want Johnny seeing you in.

“What the fuck are you doing here?!” You hiss, some old instinct making you want to stay quiet even though there’s no one in the house with you.

The look he gives you is almost begrudgingly scolding, his lips tilted up in the corners as he tuts like he’s just barely holding back a smile. “Now, what was that for? I know your happy to see me, no need to start throwin’ things.”

“Johnny,” you scold, heartbeat slowing as the initial fear fades. “What the hell are you doing in my room? We haven’t spoken in years, you can’t just show back up-”

“Aw, I knew you missed me,” he grins, easily interrupting you and stepping almost within arms reach, water bottle discarded on your dresser. “Figured you didnae want to hear from me, I’d have written if I knew you’d be so crabbit.”

You splutter a bit, spine straightening in offense. “You’re breaking into my house! I have more than a right to be- what’d you say? Crabbit?”

His smile only grows and he steps closer, making you instinctually take a step back. “I don’t mind, lass. ‘S always fun to coax a pretty thing out of an ugly mood.”

Your face feels like it’s on fire as you splutter, your heart only beating faster as Johnny prowls forward, eyes dragging down your body like he wants to eat you alive. 

“I like your PJs, bonnie,” he rumbles, reaching out a hand to drag his finger down one of the straps of your tank top. “Did you match your panties just for me?”

Yous hiss and smack his hand away, one hand crossing tight over your chest to try and regain some amount of modesty. “How could I have dressed for you when you’re breaking in? This is ridiculous, you need to go, Johnny-”

You hardly even notice as he slowly pushes you backward, his chest pressed against yours until there’s no more room to pull away from him, the wall at your back a cold shock.

“Go?” He tilts his head, eyes big and round and you know the bastard isn’t as innocent or well-meaning as he’s trying to look. “But I just got here, bonnie. We haven’t even fucked yet.”

You rear back at the crass language, face flushing with heat. “What- we’re not going to-” You stumble over your words, pressing further back against the wall when his hands - rough, calloused, so much bigger than they used to be - grab both of your elbows to keep you still. “We’re not having sex,” you finally manage to choke out.

His grin is shark-like, sharp and verging on mean as he ducks his face closer to yours, lowering his voice to match your volume. “Why not? You look hungry, lass, don’t you want a little help? My fingers are bigger than yours, bet I can reach further up in your pretty cunt than you can.”

You gape for a moment, mouth moving as you think about saying any number of things, each of them dying before they cross your lips. This Johnny is so far from the lanky teenager who shoved you as you passed him in the hallway, and even further from the little boy who refused to be your first kiss because of your cooties. You have no idea how to deal with this invasive adult Johnny.

Your hands are small against his broad chest, and you press against him with just a hint of pressure, hoping he’ll take your hint and lean away. He doesn’t, only pushes himself closer and gives you some of his weight to hold up. 

“Johnny, come on,” you try, pushing a little harder and only getting yourself more firmly pinned against the wall. “We can- let’s get lunch tomorrow, okay? We can talk then.”

Johnny doesn’t respond at first, only ducks down and presses his face into your throat. You stiffen at the feeling of his damp breath against your skin, the slight brush of his teeth chasing goosebumps down your spine. Your breath hitches when you feel a distinct shape against your stomach, his hardness pressing into you.

“I can’t leave now, bonnie,” he says against your throat, groaning and grinding himself against you just once. “Ye’ve got me all worked up, I’ll die if you make me go.”

“Johnny…” you whine, wrapping your hands around his biceps and squeezing.

“I’ll make it good for you, don’ worry,” he reassures, hands shifting from the wall to wrap around your waist. “Might be a tad selfish once we get goin’, but you’ll have your fun.”

You can’t do much but squirm as one of his hands slips down beneath your bottoms, large hand cupping you. Your squeak is entirely unintentional when his fingers begin to explore without any reservations, your face hot with embarrassment at how quickly your body reacts.

Johnny doesn’t lift his head far, only enough to mouth at your jaw and leave little sucking bites. His free hand, the one not stroking your clit and drawing out wetness from your core, drifts up enough to palm one of your breasts.

“Johnny,” you breathe, incapable of saying anything but his name.

You can feel his smile against your skin, and you arch further into him when he slides one thick finger inside of you. His fingers are bigger than yours, enough for you to worry about the size of other parts of him.

“You’re so tight for me, lovie. Gonna squeeze me just right, huh?” His fingers crooks inside of you at just the right angle, and your hips jerk forward on instinct as you cry out. “Pretty thing, can’t believe I never had this back in school.”

“What-” You start, cutting yourself off with a gasp that melts into a moan as he pushes another finger inside of you. You’re more than wet enough to take it, but everything seems to be moving at hyperspeed, and you can’t keep up. “Oh, that’s- what’re you talking about?”

He huffs against your jaw, nosing up a little further to press against your cheek as his hot breath washes over you. “You’re so pretty lass, had me hard as iron every day when we were kids. Wasn’t very nice, huh bonnie? Walkin’ around in those cute skirts and - fuck, your pretty blush… drove me fucking insane.”

You yelp at the sudden stretch of three fingers, pushing up onto your toes to try and jerk away, but Johnny just follows you, thumb stroking cruelly over your clit.

“Just wanted to bend you over,” he groans, pressing his hips into your stomach and gripping your breast tight enough that you worry you’ll bruise. “Wanted to put you on your knees, on your back, fuck, woulda done anything for just a peek at this pretty cunt.”

“Jo-hnny,” you hiccup, melting against him as the pleasure begins to overwhelm you, everything else fading as you creep closer to an orgasm you’re not even sure you want. “I don’t-”

“Hush,” he hisses, smacking your tit lightly and ignoring your cry of shock. “Lemme get you off here, then I’ll fuck you, yeah? Gonna split you open on my cock, show you what you coulda had years ago, gonna fuck you dumb.”

He finally presses his lips to yours, swallowing your moans and cries as they slowly grow in volume. Your hips buck against his hands as you chase an orgasm, unable to do anything more than pant into Johnny’s mouth as he licks into yours, tongue exploring every bit he can reach.

Your orgasm absolutely melts you, leaves you weak and limp pinned between the wall and the man you’d once known so well. Johnny’s breathing almost as hard as you, every part of him pressed fully against you. He’s all heat and solid man, forcing you to ride out every euphoric wave of your orgasm.

You’re a little glassy eyed by the end of it, knees weak and mind even weaker. You’re vaguely aware of your hands lightly pushing at him as he lifts you by the thighs, dropping you carelessly onto the bed.

“Fuck,” Johnny hisses, tearing your clothes from your body like they’re nothing. You whine when he presses kisses to your stomach, those kisses quickly turning to sucking bites that have you arching and running a hand through his mohawk. 

He doesn’t bother to take off his shirt - too busy licking his way up to your tits for that - but the sound of his belt dropping to the floor and his jeans following is loud in the quiet of your bedroom.

When he takes your nipple into his mouth, sucking like he’s trying to physically pull more moans from you, you arch off the bed with a near squeal. He’s hunched over you as he settles firmly above your prone form on the bed, knees between your thighs and keeping them spread.

“Slow- slow down,” you gasp, tapping at his shoulder a bit frantically as you feel the thick - so thick - length of him press against your drooling center. “Johnny-!” 

Your cry melts into a long, drawn-out moan as Johnny forces himself inside of you with one mean thrust. Three fingers somehow wasn’t enough prep for you to take him comfortably, his cock leaving you teary eyed and writhing on the bed as he bottoms out in just seconds. You feel like you’ve been impaled, the breath forced from your chest as you dig your nails into his shoulder and try despertley to breathe through the stretch.

“There,” Johnny pants above you, lips pink and swollen from his kisses. “There ye go, bonnie, good fuckin’ girl for me. Coulda - shit, shit - coulda had this years ago, huh?” His head drops low, eyes boring into yours as he pulls back and thrusts back into you sharply, forcing another cry from your lips. “See how good it feels? I can make you feel so good, pretty girl, promise.”

“Johnny, c’mon,” you gasp, scratching down his shoulder blades and pulling him close. Any reservations you had have been fucked out of you in just a few thrusts, and even despite your recent orgasm your clit throbs with need. “C’mon, you can- you can move.”

His smile is sharp above you, his own pupils blown wide and his shirt sticking to his sweat-slick skin. “Yeah? Want me to fuck you harder?”

You whine high in your throat, throwing your head back and hitching your hips higher as he finds a pace that works, his hips slamming against the backs of your thighs when you wrap them around his waist. You’re half off the bed with the position he’s got you in, his arms scooping you up around your back so he can lavish more attention across your tits.

Every breath you take leaves you in a moan or a cry, the pleasure he’s punshing into you almost overwhelming. You feel fevered, desperate in a way you never have before as you claw desperately at Johnny’s scalp, tugging his hair until he moans.

“So tight for me,” he slurs against your chest, drooling as he switches from one nipple to the other. “Drivin’ me fuckin’ mad, bonnie, could stay in this cunt forever, shit.”

“Johnny,” you gasp, eyes screwed up tight as you feel yourself getting closer and closer to a second peak. “You’re so… fuck, so big, I can’t… can’t breathe.”

“Yeah?” He asks, looking up at you and pushing himself up enough to press kisses to your lips. “‘M fuckin’ the air right out of you, huh? Fuckin’ you so good you can’t breathe?”

“Yeah,” you keen, your body beginning to tense as you begin to taste your orgasm. “Feel so good, Johnny, please, I’m so- I’m so close, c’mon…”

“Yes, yes,” he chants against you, his lips brushing over every bit of your face he can reach, tongue darting out to lick up the few stray tears slipping from your eyes. “Squeeze me tight, c’mon, come for me, lass, you can do it.”

He doesn’t give up his tight hold on you to rub your clit, but you find that you don’t need him to, the combination of his thrusts and everything about the situation bringing you to a powerful enough orgasm that your vision whites out for a moment. Your throat is sore as you shout, and the fabric of Johnny’s shirt is loose around where your fingers have dug in mercilessly.

“Fuck, tight as a vice, fuck, fuck,” Johnny moans, his own face screwed up in pleasure as he loses any rhythm he had before, fucking you like a fleshlight. He leans back and pulls you up with him, holding you chest to chest with him and burying his face into your neck as you hold onto him for dear life. 

He buries his teeth right above your pulse as he comes, working his hips in small, jerky thrusts to milk himself as you tighten up around him. Your breath is synced with his, both of you panting desperately and soaked in sweat.

You’re still reeling as he begins to recover. Before you can even muster enough strength to let your thighs fall away from his hips, he’s falling forward onto the bed and laying both of you out on your sides, his hold on you not loosening at all. He takes half a second to throw his shirt across the room, then presses you so close that your tits are all but flat against his chest.

He’s uncharacteristically silent as the two of you share breaths, each of you slowly floating back into your bodies. The only emotion you can really muster is shock - how is it that Johnny, your best friend turned biggest bully, just fucked you better than any man you’ve been with before? It feels, in some absurd way, unfair.

“We’ll have to talk about this,” you say quietly, once your heartbeat has almost evened out and your breaths are coming evenly. 

Johnny only hums, one big hand moving down to hitch your thigh back around his waist, tilting your body so somehow even more of your skin is pressed against his. “Sure, bonnie,” he murmurs, voice half muffled from where his face is pressed into your hair. “Tomorrow.”

“I’m serious, Johnny,” you try, one hand resting on his ribs. “You broke into my house.”

“Hmm,” he hums, taking a deep breath of your scent and letting it out contentedly. “I’ll say sorry in the mornin’. Sleep now, though.” His voice is almost pleading, his grip on you tightening for just a moment, one hand behind your back and the other resting on your ass. You feel like a stuffed animal, but you’re too pleasure-sated to really mind.

“Alright,” you agree, settling into his hold fully and letting your mouth rest against his collarbone as your eyes flutter shut. “Tomorrow.”

[cookiescribble]

Innocent Love

Flufftober Day 16: “Yes, No, Maybe” + bonus prompt “I’ve Got You.” (this one gets an actual title because i was planning on posting this as a regular fic)

A/N: I don’t think this is quite what the prompt meant (and the words are out of order) but I was already in the middle of writing this when we decided we were doing flufftober and had written that line so I figured I’d use it for this prompt 🫶🏻 - mod angel 

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: After talking through some emotional concerns, you and Spencer finally feel comfortable getting intimate with each other. 

CW: very fluffy smut (18+), mutual loss of virginity, discussion/description of SA (based on the memories he talked about in 3x16)

~~~

You were sitting on the couch, originally watching a movie that had since been forgotten about. Your hands were tangled in Spencer’s hair, your lips against his, your kisses feeling like they were the air you need to breathe. 

You pulled away for a moment, both of you trying to catch your breath, your heart pounding as if you just ran a marathon. You looked at each other, letting out a little laugh, still holding onto each other. 

“Do you remember anything that happened in the last 20 minutes of this movie?” He asked, still laughing softly. 

You laughed harder, shaking your head. “No, I was focused on something way more important,” you murmured, grinning as you pulled him in for another kiss. 

He hummed against your lips, his hands automatically coming to hold your face, and you were back to kissing fervently. 

After a few more minutes of this, you slowly pulled him on top of you, never breaking the kiss, your hands tangling in his hair. You could feel his heart beating fast against yours, as you slowly slid one hand under his shirt…

Suddenly, he pulled away, wincing, his breath shallow and shaky. You pulled your hand back, holding it out in front of you. “I’m sorry, was that too much?” You asked, worried that you were going to scare him off. You hadn’t been dating for too long, and you didn’t want to rush things, but it had just felt… right. 

He hesitated, still catching his breath. “No… Yes? Maybe? I…” He sighed, and you could feel his breath on your face since he was still so close to you. “I don’t know…”

You reached up to touch his face, consoling him and giving him a soft smile. “Let’s stop for now, okay?”

He nodded, sitting up, running his hand through his hair and taking a deep breath. “Sorry…” he muttered, looking at you apologetically. 

You shook your head, putting your arm around him. “Nothing to be sorry about,” you assured him. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he replied, his breath finally going back to normal. “I just… I-I don’t know,” he sighed, as if he was frustrated with himself. “I haven’t… I don’t…” he kept stumbling through starts of sentences he never finished. 

You pat his shoulder in a comforting gesture, letting him know you understood. You were trying to think of words yourself; you and Spencer had gotten far enough in your relationship that it was probably time to have a “talk,” but you felt shy about it. It was a slightly uncomfortable topic, especially since you didn’t know how to bring up your total lack of experience without sounding like a complete loser. 

He took your hand off his shoulder to hold it, linking your fingers together. The sweet gesture gave you the bit of courage you needed to keep talking. 

“So…” you started hesitantly, “do you… want to do… that, someday?” You tried not to blush, it shouldn’t be this big of a deal to talk about it. “Because some people don’t, and that’s totally okay too, and I really wouldn’t mind if-“

“No, I do,” he cut off your babbling. “I… I really want to try this with you. I just…” He took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t… have any actual experience with… that, but I’ve had some experiences kinda… related to that, and they were… bad.”

You were kind of relieved to hear the first part of that, but hearing the last part of what he said made you furrow your brows. “I… also don’t have any experience, if that makes you feel better.” You rubbed your thumb over the back of his hand. “But, the other thing… Do you want to talk about it?”

He closed his eyes for a moment, just letting himself feel your calming touch. “I just… I’m worried I’ll start to freak out.” He sighed, gripping your hand a little tighter. “It’s… kind of a long story.”

“Well, I’m more than willing to listen,” you replied softly. “Besides, I’ve got nothing better to do.”

That caused him let out a soft chuckle, making you smile. “Okay, well… it started when I was in high school.” He stared into the distance as he talked, almost as if he was somewhere else, describing the events happening. “I was… well, less than popular in school, which I guess is to be expected when you graduate at 12.”

You nodded, giving his hand a little squeeze to try to ground him. You’re sure that wherever he was right now, it wasn’t a good place. 

He closed his eyes, taking another deep breath. “And… sometimes, people would just pretend to like me, and I didn’t know any better and I just believed them.” He gave your hand another squeeze. “One day… one of the girls in my class came up to me, and she said her friend wanted to meet me, and I was excited because I thought I liked her, and the idea of someone liking me was, like, unheard of at the time…”

You frowned, starting to soothingly stroke his hand with your thumb. He’d told you about his time in school being emotionally difficult, but he never told you any specifics. 

He opened his eyes again, still not looking at you. “So I met this friend at the time she told me, and when I got there… she was there, but it wasn’t just her; the whole football team was there, and…” His eyes were starting to water now. “And they… took my clothes off and they tied me to the goal posts… and they just laughed at me when I begged them to let me go.”

“Oh, Spence,” you whispered, reaching up to wipe away the tears that were rolling down his cheeks. “That’s awful.”

He sniffled, looking like he was trying to hold his breath so he wouldn’t cry. He reached up to touch your hand that was on his face, closing his eyes again. 

You felt your heart breaking at his story. How could people be so mean to him? Especially when he was so young and vulnerable.

You pulled him into a tight hug, stroking his hair soothingly. “It’s okay now, honey,” you cooed in his ear. “I’ve got you. No one’s ever going to hurt you like that ever again.”

“I know…” he sighed, his voice still a little wobbly. “But I just… can’t forget it, and when you started to take my shirt off, it just brought me right back there.” He hugged you a little tighter, burying his face in your shoulder. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to spoil the moment…”

You shook your head. “You have nothing to apologize for, Spence,” you assured him. “I would never ask you to do something you weren’t ready for.” You pulled back slightly to look at him, pushing his hair back so you could look in his eyes. “If you want to try to go further, we can take things slow, okay? We can take our time.”

He nodded, looking up at you with those big, sad eyes of his. “Yeah, I think I like that idea.” He gave you a soft smile. 

You smiled back, kissing his forehead. “C’mon, let’s finish this movie.”

“I think we’re gonna have to rewind it,” he laughed softly, sitting up again. “I barely even remember what movie we were watching.”

…

You both kept your word about going slow. Every time you were alone together, you started to slowly get further and further. He eventually got comfortable with you taking his shirt off, and you both got a bit more comfortable letting your hands roam. 

One day, everything seemed to fall into place, and you were both finally ready. 

Spencer had come home after a rare slow day at the BAU, and he scooped you into his arms immediately when he entered your apartment. 

He was on you instantly, pulling you close and kissing you, his hands gently gripping your face as you fell back onto the couch. You let out a surprised hum against his lips, your hands tangling in his hair as the kiss started to get very heated. You took his tie off, throwing it on the side of the couch. He let you unbutton a few of the top buttons on his shirt, eventually breaking the kiss to look at you with half-lidded eyes. 

“Can we… go to the bedroom?” he asked softly, panting from the intense kiss. 

Your eyes widened slightly. “Are you sure?” you whispered back, reaching up to touch his face. 

He nodded, putting his hands over yours. “I’m sure. If… if you want to, that is…”

You nodded immediately, standing back up as you both walked to the bedroom, Spencer pulling you by your hand as you both giggled excitedly. 

You closed the door behind you, and Spencer slowly walked towards you, pulling you in by your waist. He kissed you, slower this time, with more intention. His hands slowly slid up your sides as his tongue slipped into your mouth. 

You let out a dreamy sigh, hugging him tightly. You lifted your arms as you let him pull your shirt off, tossing it off to the side somewhere. You unbuttoned the rest of his shirt, and it joined yours on the floor as you fell back on the bed, Spencer quickly moving on top of you, his touch on your body feather light. 

His hands worked achingly slow, feeling every inch of you. Starting at your neck, slowly sliding down your arms, back up your waist… his touch so gentle you might not have felt it, if you weren’t paying attention. 

But, oh, you felt it. It felt like electricity was flowing through your body with every touch of his fingertips. He looked into your eyes as his hands kept roaming your body, you never thought you could feel so loved by somebody.

Eventually, his hands came to slowly push down your bra straps, making your breath catch in your throat. “Can I take this off?” He asked, his voice soft and sweet like honey. 

You nodded, sitting up so he could reach your back to unhook it. After a few moments, it joined the rest of your clothes on the floor. 

You looked up at him, and he was looking into your eyes. His eyes were slightly widened, and he seemed as though he was keeping himself from looking at you. 

You let out a warm laugh, reaching up to touch his face. “You’re allowed to look, Spence.”

He blushed as his eyes roamed down your body, leaning you back so you were laying down again. “You’re so beautiful,” he breathed, his hands resuming their search on your body. You closed your eyes, just letting yourself feel the sensation. 

Eventually, his hands reached your chest, making you gasp lightly. Your eyes opened instinctively as you felt him hesitate. “Is… is that okay?”

“Y-yeah,” you stammered, your face slightly flushed. “It’s just… new. But not bad.” You looked up at him sheepishly. “It feels… nice.”

He gave you a soft smile, his head coming down to meet yours, your foreheads and noses touching. His hands resumed the soft touch, making you let out a soft moan when he touched the sensitive part of your skin. 

He kissed your forehead, then your cheek, then started planting soft kisses down your neck and your shoulders until his lips finally found your breasts. You let out a gasp, your eyes closing as your hands tangled in his hair. Your heart was pounding like crazy; you wouldn’t be surprised if he could feel it from where he was. 

His kisses were achingly gentle, before his tongue started moving in circular motions. Your eyes squeezed shut, and you were letting out soft whimpers. Eventually, he made his way back up and gave you a soft kiss on the lips. 

You both looked at each other, giggling softly, feeling like two teenagers sneaking away on prom night. You felt giddy, but serious at the same time. This meant a lot to both of you. 

You bit your lip, your hand slowly sliding down his side before you started to undo his belt. He let out a shaky breath, and soon you were working on his button and zipper, pulling it down…

“Wait!” He exclaimed suddenly, making you pull your hand away, slightly startled. 

“D-do you want to stop?” You asked, worried you did something wrong. 

“No, no, I don’t want to stop,” he shook his head. “I just… can’t forget…” he trailed off as he pulled something out of his pocket, placing a condom on your bedside table. 

You blushed fiercely, that one gesture suddenly making everything feel more real. 

He settled back on top of you, reaching his hand out to gently cup your cheek. “Had to make sure that didn’t get stuck in the clothing pile,” he laughed warmly. 

You laughed back, touching your noses together again. “Well, is it okay if this goes in the clothing pile now?” You asked, tugging at the waistband of his pants. 

“Yeah,” he smiled, his face looking a little red. “All good now.”

You reached down to tug at his pants again, pulling them down as Spencer helped you slide them off. Your eyes wandered down his body, seeing something very prominently bulging in his underwear. Your eyes darted back up to his face, your cheeks turning pink. 

His hands were back on you, sliding down your sides before resting on your hips. “Your turn?” He whispered. 

“Y-yeah,” you whispered back, swallowing and nodding. You reached down to unbutton your own pants before Spencer’s hands were sliding underneath them, and soon they were discarded to the clothing pile. 

He got closer to your face again, biting his lip. “I’ve, uh, been doing some… research…” he murmured, sounding a bit flustered. 

“Research?” You repeat, laughing lightly. “What kind of research?”

“Well,” he started, his hand resting on your hip. “I just… really want to do this right. And I want you to feel good. So I, uh…” he looked a bit embarrassed. “I looked into… what women say feels good. And like, how to… get you… prepared…” he let out an awkward laugh, running his hand through his hair. 

You giggled, covering part of your face with your hand, your face feeling hot. “Yeah? And what did you discover?”

“Well, there were things they said help so it doesn’t hurt,” he explained, his hand trailing down your leg now. “So… I wanted to try it, because I don’t want you to be in pain while we do this.”

He was so sweet you could almost cry. Instead, you just nodded. “Okay… let’s try it, then.”

He nodded back, lifting your legs up and slowly pulling your underwear off. You looked up at him, a bashful look on your face as you lay bare underneath him. 

He took a moment to look over your body before clearing his throat. “Okay, so, the first thing they recommended was putting a pillow under your hips.”

You nodded, taking one of the pillows you weren’t laying on and handing it to him. 

He furrowed his brows, the way he did when he was concentrating hard on something. You picked up your hips so he could slide the pillow underneath you. 

“Comfortable?” He asked softly. 

“Yeah,” you nodded, adjusting your position slightly. Your hips were angled slightly upwards now. “What’s next?” 

“Next is to… get you… ready.” He reached up to  push a strand of hair out of your face. 

“R-ready?” You asked, your face a bit flushed. “So you’re gonna… t-touch me?”

“Yeah,” he whispered. “Is that okay?”

You nodded, biting your lip. “Yeah, it’s okay. I guess I’m just a bit… nervous. I’ve never had anyone touch me like that before,” you mumbled, looking away. 

“Me neither,” he replied, stroking your cheek with his thumb. “But, this is supposed to help you feel less nervous, on top of trying to get your body used to… something being… in there,” he chuckled awkwardly. 

A giggle bubbled in your throat, your face bright red now. “Right, yeah,” you took a deep breath, trying to prepare yourself for what was about to happen. “Okay.”

His hand trailed down your body again, watching your face for any reactions. He parted your legs, his hand resting on your lower stomach. “Ready?” He whispered. 

“Ready,” you whispered back, taking another deep breath. 

His hand trailed down until he finally reached the bundle of nerves between your legs, touching it tentatively. 

Your breath hitched, and you let out a little whimper. Just one small touch and you were already feeling your body react. Your arms reached out to wrap around his shoulders, hugging him for support. 

“Does that feel good?” Spencer whispered in your ear, his fingers pausing to make sure you were still okay. 

You nodded vigorously, threading your fingers in his hair, your faces so close that you could feel his breath. “Yeah…” you whispered back, your face flushed. “It… it feels really good.”

His other hand moved to stroke your hair soothingly as he started circling your bud, earning a soft moan from you. 

The juxtaposition between the innocent sweetness he was showing and the very not innocent thoughts you were having were starting to make your head spin. You didn’t think you could ever feel so good, but you were already getting so worked up that you couldn’t imagine yourself lasting much longer. 

After a few minutes of Spencer rubbing you achingly slowly, he whispered to you again. “I’m gonna, um…” He seemed like he almost felt too shy to say the words. “… put my finger in now, okay?” He cleared his throat, his eyes looking into yours. “It’s supposed to help stretch you out a bit, so it doesn’t hurt… l-later.” He was blushing, his awkward mumbling sounding very endearing to you.

“Y-yeah, okay,” you murmured, biting your lip. “I can handle that.”

He nodded, stroking your hair before he went any further. “Just relax,” he whispered. “It said that tensing makes it more likely to hurt.”

You took a deep breath, relaxing your body as much as you could manage. It didn’t help that he had gotten you worked up so quickly. 

He pressed your foreheads together as he slowly slid one finger in, making you hug him a little closer, letting out a quiet whine as you felt this new sensation in your body. It was almost like a slightly full feeling, except that you felt like you wanted more. 

“Is that okay?” He asked softly, his thumb gently caressing your cheek. “Doesn’t hurt?”

“N-no,” you stammered, deciding you’d answer his last question first. “It doesn’t hurt, it feels really good.”

“Do you think you can manage a little more?” He searched your face to look for any signs of discomfort. 

“Yeah,” you breathed, swallowing. “I think I can.”

He nodded at you, pressing his face to yours as he slowly slipped another finger in. 

You let out another soft whine, holding him a bit tighter. He looked at you, silently asking a question. “I’m alright,” you whisper softly. “It feels good.”

He pressed a kiss to your forehead as he started moving his fingers, the new sensation filling you with excitement, already feeling like you were close to coming undone. 

“Spence…” you moaned softly as he suddenly kissed you hungrily, his tongue in your mouth causing you to tangle your fingers in his hair tightly. 

You didn’t think anything could feel this good, his fingers thrusting in and out of you, hitting you where it felt the best every time as if he was an expert. You felt something building in your stomach, your toes starting to curl as you let out a string of moans and whimpers. 

You pull away from the kiss, breathing shakily as you try to speak. “Spence… I-I’m…” you squeezed your eyes shut as you suddenly felt overwhelmed by how much pleasure was coursing through your body. 

Spencer ran a hand through your hair, the gesture very gentle compared to the relentless way his fingers were moving inside of you. “Just let it happen. I’ve got you,” he murmured in your ear before his lips were back on yours, his thumb gently stroking your cheek. 

The tenderness in his voice and feeling of his lips and the movement of his fingers finally sent you over the edge, moaning loudly as you felt waves and waves of pleasure crashing through your body. Your back arched off the bed as you got lost in the pleasure, almost feeling like it was never going to end. 

Finally, you felt yourself come down, panting as you tried to process what just happened. You’d never really felt that kind of sensation before.

Spencer was looking at you in awe when you finally looked back over to him, also seeming to be processing what just happened. 

You blushed, feeling a bit shy after all that. It made you feel more exposed than taking off your clothes had. 

After a few moments, he broke the silence by whispering, “You’re so beautiful.” He pushed your hair back, getting a better look at your flushed face. 

You smiled sheepishly, your heart warming at how sweet he was. He was really good at comforting you during such a vulnerable time. 

“So, uh…” you started, absentmindedly running your finger up and down his arm. “Do you think that was… sufficient?” You chuckled awkwardly, feeling like you sounded ridiculous. 

He was also blushing, his voice warm and sweet. “I hope so,” he laughed lightly back. “Do you feel… ready?”

You leaned in, looking into his eyes. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt more ready for anything in my life,” you murmured. 

You both smiled at each other, Spencer’s face getting more and more flushed as your hand traced down his side to his hip. 

“It’s not fair that I’m the only one not wearing any clothes right now,” you teased as your fingers stopped right under the waistband of his underwear. 

He bit down on his tongue, his hand moving to help you finally take off the rest of his clothes. 

Soon, you both lay there, completely bare. Your face was a bright red, your eyes widening automatically as you looked over his body. You moved your eyes back up to his face and he met your gaze, pressing his forehead to yours and gently cupping your cheek. 

“Are you, ah…” You felt a bit embarrassed as you spoke. “Are you sure it was enough… preparing?” As stereotypical as it sounded, you were having trouble imagining him fitting inside of you.

He smiled softly, tangling his legs together with yours, the sense of closeness feeling reassuring to you. “You can tell me if it hurts… I want you to tell me if it hurts, okay? Or if you changed your mind-“

You shook your head, cutting him off. “I didn’t change my mind. I promise.”

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into another kiss, slowly moving on top of you so he was straddling your waist. You stifled a moan when you felt something hard pressing against your stomach.

After a few more moments, he pulled away slightly, his mouth still inches away from yours. “Okay, I… I’m going to…” He trailed off as he sat up a bit more, his hand right next to your face as his other reached for the condom on the table. 

You felt a bit embarrassed just staring at him, but you kind of couldn’t help it. “So, there’s like… a right and a wrong way to wear it, right? I remember being taught that in high school.”

He nodded, tearing the wrapper open and starting to slowly roll it down his length. “Yeah, I’ve been, uh… practicing,” he admitted sheepishly. 

A giggle bubbled in your throat as you thought about what that “practicing” meant. For some reason, it excited you how much he prepared for this. It meant that he really cared a lot for you. 

After it was on, he came back down to face you again. “Ready?” He asked softly, his hand finding yours and interlocking your fingers together. 

You gave his hand a little squeeze. “Ready,” you replied, nodding determinately. 

He looked into your eyes as he slowly pushed himself in, both of you letting out a little gasp as you finally joined your bodies together in this intimate harmony. 

You let out a little whimper when he was all the way in, feeling perfectly full. You fit together perfectly, like you were made for each other, as cliché as that sounded. 

After a few moments of just staying like that, your foreheads pressed together as you both adjusted to this new feeling, Spencer spoke breathlessly. “Does it hurt?”

You shook your head. “No, it doesn’t hurt. It feels… amazing,” you admitted, whispering to him. 

He smiled softly, reaching up to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear with the hand that wasn’t holding yours. “Can I start moving?”

You nodded quickly. “Please,” you practically begged, your body already aching for this pleasure that was only just starting. 

He wasted no time, his eyes closing as he started a steady rhythm, his movements almost achingly slow. 

He leaned his head down for another heated kiss, letting out a quiet moan against your lips. You squeezed his hand tight, matching his moan as his thrusts started getting a little faster. 

You could immediately feel the pleasure building inside of you again. He was able to hit the exact spots that made you whimper and moan, and hearing his own muffled noises of pleasure against your lips was making you feel dizzy. 

After a few minutes, he pulled away from the kiss to bury his face in your neck, his movements starting to get erratic. He sounded like he was mumbling something to himself, his voice vibrating against your neck. You think you heard him listing some of the periodic table elements, which could’ve almost made you laugh if you weren’t so lost in the feeling of him. 

“Spence…” you whimpered, trying to pull his head up to press your face against his. “It’s… I…” You tried to convey the feeling building inside you as you felt yourself getting more and more worked up with each of his thrusts, but you couldn’t even form a cohesive thought. Instead, you squeezed his hand tighter, letting out a loud moan. 

Thankfully, he understood you, and you could feel his hair tickling your forehead as he nodded. “Me too,” he breathed, his voice slightly whiny. “God, me too.”

You wrapped your arm around him, the movement of his hips getting faster and faster as the room was filled with the noises you both were letting out. 

Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore; your back arched, pressing your body against his, your feet tangling together as you felt his tensing against yours. You felt yourself hit that high for the second time tonight, your hips moving to meet his as he moaned loudly, his hips shuddering as he came right there with you, the frenzied movements dying down until he finally stopped, collapsing on top of you. 

You were both panting, trying to catch your breath after such an intense moment. He let go of your hand to wrap his arms around you, pulling you into a tight hug as he buried his face in your neck. You reached up to gently stroke his hair, your other hand absentmindedly tracing patterns on his back. 

You stayed like that for a few minutes, keeping each other close, your hearts thrumming in your chests against each other. His body was warm on top of yours; he almost felt like your personal weighted blanket. 

Eventually, Spencer lifted his head up to look at you. As you met his eyes, you both let out a little giggle, the giddiness of what you just experienced really hitting you. He moved so he was laying on his back, scooping you into his arms as you curled up into his side. 

“That was… wow,” you finally broke the silence, a big smile on your face. 

He smiled back at you. “Incredible,” he finished for you. “I… I never thought I could feel quite like that.”

You reached up to cup his cheek, your tone slightly teasing. “Your ‘research’ didn’t prepare you for that?”

He laughed warmly, pulling you closer against him. “Nothing could’ve prepared me; you’re a one-of-a-kind person, and everything with you just feels so… special,” he gleamed at you, putting his hand over yours. “I… I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” you breathed, getting slightly teary-eyed. You weren’t prepared for just how emotional this would make you. “I can’t imagine myself doing that with anyone besides you.”

“Agreed,” he nodded, his tone soft as his thumb wiped away the tear that was forming. “You okay?”

You nodded, turning your head to give his hand a little kiss. “Yeah, I’m okay,” you smiled softly at the comforting touch. “Just feeling a lot of emotions, I guess.”

“That’s normal,” he replied, pushing your hair back so he could look at you better. “The hormonal release can cause a flood of emotions, sometimes causing postcoital tristesse. It’s normal to feel some anxiety or sudden sadness-“

“It’s not sadness,” you cut him off. “I’m crying because I'm so happy.” You smiled wide, nuzzling his nose with yours. 

He couldn’t help but smile back, his eyes closing as he nuzzled your nose back. “That can also happen. I’m glad that’s the one you’re feeling.”

“Me too,” you sighed contentedly, resting your head on his shoulder as you closed your eyes, exhaustion suddenly hitting you. 

He let out a warm laugh as he saw you getting comfortable, hearing the drowsiness in your voice. “How about we get dressed and go to sleep?” he whispered. “I think we’ll both sleep really well tonight.”

“Mhm…” you mumbled, trying to will yourself to sit up after your body suddenly felt really heavy. “Yeah, I think that’s a good idea.”

After a bit of effort, you both got up to change into your pajamas, stealing a few quick kisses as you did so. You settled back into bed, snuggling up under the covers, whispering “goodnight”s before you both fell asleep almost instantly. 

After that night, you were practically inseparable. This had basically become a nightly routine; you tried out a whole bunch of positions to test what felt the best for both of you. His favorites were the ones where he could hold you in his arms. 

It always ended with lots of snuggling afterwards, the intimacy making your relationship even stronger than it was before. You never thought you could feel this much love for someone, but you felt it every day with Spencer.

[matthewtkachuk]

somehow still stuck on you

navigating the realities of your post break up friendship with quinn is exacerbated by how much you’re not over him

pairing: quinn hughes x reader

warnings: a bit of exes to lovers angst

word count: 2.4k

a/n: hi @boqvistsbabe i’m your fic exchange writer, i’m sorry for the wait but i hope you enjoy!! i was feeling mad regret over not signing up for the fic exchange so when @wyattjohnston asked if i wanted to step in as a pinch hitter i said duhhhhh. this is as much a love letter to vancouver in late july as it is a quinn fic

Quinn’s back in Vancouver. 

It’s not exactly revolutionary given the millions of dollars and the capital C handed to him by the Vancouver Canucks, but it is noteworthy given the timing.  

Training camp doesn’t start for another month, which makes it highly strange for Quinn to be back in the city already. Last you heard he was having a Brat Summer in Michigan. 

Not that you were keeping tabs on your ex-boyfriend-turned-just-friend, of course. It’s not a crime to click through the first five Insta stories when you open the app, even when it showcases how much fun he’s having without you. 

Although it might have felt like it when you were dating, the sun and moon didn’t rise and fall at the behest of Quinn Hughes. It was just easier to remember that fact when you weren’t faced with him—quite literally faced with a giant banner of his likeness leaving the Stadium-Chinatown SkyTrain station. The start of the regular season would be bad enough with his name on every one of your coworkers' lips. 

All this to say you thought you had more time before he re-entered a position at the center of your universe. 

Summer had been kind to you, giving you the time and space needed to move on and heal. Even with the colder than usual June, you’d managed to sneak away to Osoyoos a couple weekends with the girls. Your skin? Glowing. Your hair? Shining. Your thoughts? Totally devoid of one Quinn Hughes. 

Until you’d been swiping through the aforementioned stories and spotted one of your favorite walking spots in his story. Very much downtown Vancouver and very much not Michigan. 

It wasn’t a terrible break up and you’d been friends long before ever getting together, so it’s not unreasonable to receive an invitation to get the gang together for drinks and dinner in Gastown to celebrate the return of Quinn and others in your friend group to your city. 

The time and place all but guarantees you have no way of getting out of it, and truly you are happy to get together with everyone, so you have no choice but to react to the “thumbs up if you’re coming” message. 

All the healing and the positive thinking in the world can’t  stop you from dressing a little better than you ordinarily would for a casual hang or spending a little more time on your hair. 

You’re glad for the extra effort when you stroll in right on time. Everyone is loitering around the entrance, clearly waiting on an open table. It kind of foils your plan to slip into an empty chair, thereby avoiding the initial how are you hug train. Before you can even think of another way out of it, you find yourself being passed along from one friend to another until you reach Quinn, fumbling into a quick and stilted hug. 

“Awkward,” Sienna hisses but all you can do is shrug pathetically. 

You’re saved from much more embarrassment by the hostess informing your group the table is ready and you’re so grateful you could almost kiss her. The long table means you’re not sat immediately beside Quinn which is a blessing because you’re not sure you could take any more close contact. Conversation flows easily around you, the usual topics of work, families, and shitty roommates. 

Everything is going well until the conversation turns to Quinn’s summer in Michigan. The distance between the two of you isn’t large enough for you to miss the way Quinn’s eyes flicker over to you when someone asks him if he’s seeing anyone. 

It’s not fair the way your vision briefly turns to black, your heart constricting in your chest. The feeling of almost betrayal that floods your veins isn’t fair either—it’s been months since you broke up and you’ve been on your own fair share of dates. Failed dates to be fair, but dates all the same. 

Sienna is your saving grace in the form of a clenched hand around your forearm, hauling you to the bathroom with some fake excuse you don’t hear. 

“Are you okay?” she asks outside of the table’s listening distance 

You can only shrug pathetically, all words failing you now. 

She waits a solid three minutes before leading you back. 

“Crisis averted!” she declares when you both return, flipping her hair over her shoulder. 

The conversation has turned away from romantic endeavors, circling back to someone’s work drama. 

You get the sense that Quinn is trying to meet your eyes, but you don’t dare look in that direction until it’s time to leave. Your exit is hasty, the excuse of needing to catch the sky train in the next eight minutes excusing you from any further contact. In the sea of goodbyes, Quinn’s is the clearest. 

-

It’s not technically avoiding if your workload has you so busy you barely see your roommate, let alone your friend group, right? 

There’s a major deadline coming at work and it feels as though you’re wasting money on rent when all of your time is spent at the office. Wake up, work, eat, sleep, repeat. 

It’s easier to just mute the group chat, rather than be bothered by the buzzing of your phone. 

Easier until Sienna ends up bursting through your door after work using the key you’d given her for emergencies only. 

“This is an emergency,” she says before you can speak—caught red handed knee deep in an episode of Love Island UK and a tub of ice cream. 

Neither of you speak as she grabs a spoon from your drawer and burrows into the couch beside your pathetic cocoon. It’s born of burnout rather than heartbreak, but you’re aware of the optics of it all. 

“You’ve been avoiding us,” she says while some hot blonde cries in the confessional on TV. 

“Have not,” you rebut, unceremoniously pulling the tub of ice cream away from her so that she scoops up air instead. “I’ve just been so busy with work. I haven’t even had the time or energy to go grocery shopping, hence the ice cream for dinner.”

Her eyes flicker down to the tub in your hands but she doesn’t say what you’re both thinking. That there’s more to the unconventional supper than just laziness. 

“Come to fireworks this weekend,” she says instead, her motives for the impromptu visit finally becoming clear. “You missed last weekend and yesterday. I’m asking in person so you can’t ignore the group chat message like the last two times.”

“If I say yes will you be quiet and let me watch my show?” you ask. She nods emphatically, apparently proving that she can in fact be silent. Truthfully the festival of lights is a highlight of your summer, and watching the last two shows through other people’s stories isn’t your favorite way to view them. 

“Fine.”

She squeals and throws her arms around you. You want to ask if Quinn will be there, and the look on her face says she’s waiting for you to, but you don’t. 

At the end of the day it doesn’t matter if he’s going to be there or not. Exes or not, he was one of your best friends and will always be a major part of your friend group. There’s no separating the two and the sooner you get over it and everything returns to the way it was before you started dating the better. 

She doesn’t push any further, content to sit alongside you and soak in someone else’s love drama on screen rather than your own. 

“Remember a sweater!” are her parting words to you, notorious for always neglecting one. 

-

You forgot a sweater. 

It’s not until you’re sitting down on the 99 beside an old lady that you realize. You’re already running a little behind schedule and it would double your transit time to head back, so you settle into your seat and hope it doesn’t get too cold later. 

By the time you reach the beach the group is already together, sitting on a couple beach blankets lined up end to end. You spot Quinn’s unruly dark hair before you even realize you’re looking for him. 

“Look who finally showed!” someone says, and you roll your eyes as you drop down on the only spot available, right next to Quinn. 

“I’m at the mercy of Vancouver transit, we all know this.” You’d rather rake your naked body over hot coals and then confess your lingering feelings for the boy beside you in front of everyone you know than waste time in traffic and pay the outrageous inflated parking price on a night of fireworks. 

Quinn doesn’t tease you like the rest of your friends, and you wonder if he’s thinking about how the last time you saw fireworks together he’d driven. Or how he kissed you for the first time after driving you home from a different fireworks show. 

The late afternoon passes by with an impromptu game of frisbee that you don’t partake in—there’s way too many people at the beach for it to be enjoyable and you’re more content to people watch and gossip while picking at the charcuterie spread someone else brought. The active rest of the group seems to reach the same conclusion you had and someone breaks out Uno. 

By the time the sun sets, you’ve considered murdering both your friend to your left and your ex-boyfriend to your right. It’s bad enough you’re walking around with a still broken heart, now they’re ganging up on you with draw four cards and Uno reverses. The group is spared by the darkness making it too hard to play. 

If circumstances were different, Quinn likely would be teasing you about being a sore loser, offering to kiss it better until someone inevitably fake gagged and told you to get a room. 

Instead he’s silent as you turn your back to him in order to face the direction of the show about to start. The sea breeze hits and you can’t hold back your shudder. 

“Did you seriously forget a sweater?” Sienna asks. “I told you.” 

You spin around. “Yeah yeah yeah.”

Quinn is quick to pull off his hoodie, offering it to you with an outstretched hand. “Here.”

It feels too personal, too heavy, too full of implications and so you start to shake your head. “Oh, that’s okay.” 

“You’re literally shivering,” he says. “Take it.” 

It’s warm and soft and smells just like him. As you pull it over your head you’re taken back by just how right it feels. Like if you closed your eyes, you could almost pretend things were different. 

The train of thought is broken by the first firework, and you spin back to watch. 

The fireworks are beautiful and you sit in awe, ‘ooh’ing and ‘ahh’ing along with the crowd around you. 

Someone up ahead stands up to take a photo and Sienna has no problem heckling him. “Sit down!”

They do and you just shake your head at her antics. 

It turns out that sitting on the sand on a blanket isn’t the most comfortable position to be in. Mid way through the show, you find yourself shifting and leaning back to find a better way to situate yourself. In the process you brush your hand against Quinn’s, quickly pulling it back like you’d been burned. 

“Sorry,” you murmur over your shoulder, unsure if the blush coating his cheeks is just your imagination. 

When it’s over, you help everyone pack up and follow the group through the beach, quietly bitching about the sand getting into your sandals. 

Everyone starts splitting up when the sand gives way to pavement. Sienna lives close, within walking distance and she gives you a tight hug and heads off in the direction of her house. 

You’re turning away to start towards the bus stop when Quinn grabs your arm. 

Thinking he wants his sweater back, you begin to pull at the hem but his words have you freezing in place. 

“Do you want a ride home?”

Your place isn’t the exact opposite of his, but it’s also certainly not on his way home. Call it masochism, call it a desire to return to the way things were before you loved and lost, you agree with a quiet ‘yes.’

The walk to his car is quiet, and you resist the urge to ask him how much he paid for parking tonight, not sure you want to break the silence first. 

That silence continues in his car, at least between the two of you. Something soft and acoustic plays through the car speaker as the lights of Kits turn into downtown. 

When you get home, he offers to walk you to your door. Once, it was his way of making sure you got in safe. Then, it was his way of trying to prevent the night from ending. 

Now, you’re not sure of his reasoning. 

You get to the door, and he doesn’t say much more as you unlock it and step in. 

“Do you want to come in?” you find yourself asking despite yourself. 

He hesitates, hands in the pocket of his shorts. It kind of looks like he’s contemplating between stepping inside and running away. 

It makes you angry, that bitter edge of hurt you haven’t quite gotten over yet surfacing. 

“What do you want? You need to use your words, Quinn. Because your actions are confusing me!”

You have a very formulated argument prepared, full of evidence and conflicting actions—the result of hundreds of mini one sided arguments playing in your head since he’s been gone and since he’s been back. Arguments that don’t come to fruition because the look on his face is dangerous. 

He cups your face in his hands and presses his lips solidly to yours. You don’t even have enough time to fall into the kiss before he’s pulling apart. “How’s that for confusing?”

There’s no answer from you, not verbally at least. Just the momentum of you throwing yourself at him, crushing your lips to his. 

Words can wait. 

[charliemwrites]

Bark bark bark awoooo

No content warnings

You’re gonna fucking combust.

Somehow, someway, this is Johnny’s fault. You’re not sure how yet, so he it isn’t fair for him to be in trouble, but you know it.

“This is your fault,” you tell him, pouting in bed — bare ass naked, but that means nothing to him, he’s a dog. He cocks his head, and you wave your (broken) vibrator at him. “I don’t know how, but it is. Is this because I wanna chop your balls off?”

His mouth closes, eyes big - like he actually understands you. In your horny delirium, you almost believe he really does.

You flop onto your back with a sigh, eyes a little wet with frustration.

It’s been two months since you last successfully got off. Your vibrator (and its replacement… and its replacement’s replacement) keep breaking, or running out of battery. The plug is defective or falls out of the socket.

Once you successfully got right to the edge - just for it to die. You almost did cry that time.

Sure, there’s your hand. But every time you try ol’ reliable a certain four-legged roommate interrupts one way or another. And when you tried to kick him out of the room, and then ignored the howling, scratching, and general drama - there was loud and rapid knocking at your door.

Like fucking clockwork. If you get anywhere at all, you never get to finish.

It wouldn’t be so bad, either. Your libido isn’t anything crazy, you don’t think. At least it wasn’t before. But now there’s Soap.

Soap who you should not be so attracted to. Who has no sense of propriety or boundaries, who murmurs the dirtiest things to you in the most public and otherwise mundane places. And he just keeps. Showing. Up.

Like he’s got a tracker on you or something. (You’ve checked, he doesn’t.)

He’s like every guilty fantasy you had as a good, studious girl back in high school. The kind of guy to grab your thigh under your parents’ dinner table and take your virginity in the back of his car. Maybe corner you by the lockers between classes to kiss you silly and drive up your absence record.

You never actually went for those boys — and perhaps gratefully, they never went for you. In romance novels, it would be a quaint little coming of age story. The stuff to swoon over. But reality was a lot scarier for you, especially with your older sister always keeping an ear out to report back to your parents and… well, yeah.

You’ve always been a firm introvert, anyway. That’s why you live out in the woods with only a dog for regular company.

But Soap. Soap is some unholy amalgamation of those innocent, shy girl fantasies turned R-rated. Like the grown-up version of those cute YA novels.

And you have no defense for it — except distrust, that is.

Soft-hearted as you are, you know you don’t do casual well. And you know that guys like Soap just like to spin you up and up until you finally give in, think the dreaded words “maybe it’ll work out” despite that rational voice in your head saying, “don’t bet on it.”

Doesn’t stop you from secretly wanting him though.

Fear is the only thing keeping you in check now. Some of it for you own feelings; of getting invested in a guy that has done nothing but treat you like a prime cut of meat. The rest of it is a genuine concern that he might be a bit dangerous. He’s so much bigger than you, visibly stronger. Has gone out of his way to make you uncomfortable (doesn’t matter that a very dark and slutty part of you liked it) and ignored your attempts at brushing him off.

Fear, unfortunately, is beginning to add to the temptation.

“I’m not going to do it,” you tell yourself, or maybe Johnny. Soap’s contact is on the screen. You don’t remember putting it into your phone, but you must have at some point. “Nope. No way.”

You slide a sideways look at Johnny, tail wagging at a steady clip.

“He’s probably a former frat boy or something, right?” you muse.

Snort.

“No, you don’t think so?” you question, sitting up. He happily crawls into your lap when you pat your thighs, chin resting on your tummy. “Nah, you’re right. Could almost imagine him beating the hell out of one for pissing him off.”

A little grumbly noise. You smile and start petting absently over his head and ears, phone forgotten now.

“This is dumb anyway,” you sigh, head tilted back to the ceiling. “You don’t like men. I couldn’t bring him back here.”

Johnny’s ears flick. You giggle and start flopping them around, making airplane noises. Eventually he huffs and starts licking at your face until you stop, complaining that you’ll need to wash off now.

—

“Fuck it.”

Johnny picks his head up, staring at you as you run a hand down your face.

“Fuck it all. I’m going to a bar. I’m getting… I dunno. Laid or something.” Thank god it’s only Johnny here. You don’t think you could live with the embarrassment of someone else hearing the way you talk.

You set your hands on your hips, nod to yourself.

“And if it happens to be Soap, then… sign from the universe, right?” You grimace a bit, striding for your bedroom. “Please don’t let him be a murderer or something…”

For once, Johnny is perfectly behaved as you get ready. He doesn’t try to lick at you when you come out of shower (freshly shaved and lotioned and everything). Sits patiently on the bed as you pick through your closet, even noses at a pretty pink dress you rarely wear but were considering for this.

He doesn’t try to bump your arms or hands while you do your makeup, just watches attentively. You choose a pretty, matching bra-panty set, apply a light spritz of perfume. Hesitate over jewelry.

“Is it normal to wear jewelry when you plan on fucking?” you wander allowed.

A little “boof” from the bed. You’ll take that as a yes.

You decide on a set of faux pearls with a gold heart pendant in the center. Not quite a choker, but high enough on your throat to suggest one. A delicate bracelet, a pair of stud earrings, and you’re just about set.

“Christ, I hate doing this alone,” you mutter, fumbling with the zip on the back of the dress.

Lastly, the shoes.

“Fuck it,” you say again. Your mantra for the evening, apparently. Wobble into a pair of heels, a bow on the outside of each ankle where you buckle them.

You pause when you’re done, giving yourself a once over in the full length mirror. Pleased with what you see. Coquettish and pretty, not necessarily bombshell sexy maybe, at least not on first glance. But the necklace, the heels, the cutouts at the waist of your dress… it’s all exactly what you wanted.

“Alright,” you breathe, tummy swooping with excitement. “I can do this… right?”

Johnny’s gotten down off the bed, is keeping a respectful distance. You appreciate it, don’t want to have to lint roll hair off yourself.

“Oh, god. What if he’s bad?” You ask, giving him a horrified look. “What if he’s been, like, compensating?”

To your shock, he stomps his paw and starts damn near howling. Carrying on and on like he’s bitching you out. You blink in shock, almost laugh — then check the time.

“Oh! Don’t worry, baby. I won’t let you starve!”

You toddle off to the kitchen and prep his dinner, scrunching your nose at the raw chicken and beef liver. He grumbles and fusses the whole way, making you laugh as you pretend to have a whole conversation about the economy with him.

“Okay, bonnie Johnny,” you coo, setting his bowl down. “Be good, okay? If I bring someone back here please don’t eat them, okay?”

More grumbles and whines and growls. You roll your eyes, blow him a kiss, and slip out the door.

You tell yourself you just need action with someone. Don’t admit to yourself that there’s really a specific someone you’re hoping to see.

First | Previous | Next

Masterlist

[courtingchaos]

Crosstalk

Undesired signal leakage from one sound channel or track to another.

Playlist (if you wanna play along at home.)

Eddie Munson x Fem Reader

Prompt: Eddie - I really like the idea of making him a naughty tape full of audio recordings of you playing with yourself for when he's out of town and you can't be together for a few days. But it's a surprise so you pass it off as a regular old mixtape and he doesn't suspect a thing until the first two songs end and then the real stuff starts.

Word count: 2k

Warnings: Masturbation, reader tattoo mention

A/N: I have a list in my notes of prompts and I don’t remember what ask this one came from originally so apologies for that.

18+ NSFW No Minors

Eddie digs through the bag he hastily packed that morning while the phone sits tucked between his cheek and his shoulder. “What kind of surprise is it? When did you even get it in here? Is it dirty?” He gasps into the receiver. He can feel you swatting his arm even from four hours away.

“It’s nothing wild, it’s just-“

His fingers close around something almost buried to the bottom and he fishes it out, slick plastic cassette case gleaming in the low motel light. “Did you make me a mixtape?”

“I told you it wasn’t anything wild.”

He knows you’re twirling your finger through the phone cord, your chin probably tucked into your collar in mild embarrassment.

“I love it.”

“Don’t uh, don’t go playing it for the guys though.”

“Oh so it is dirty.”

“No, I just don’t want them making fun of me for putting Linda Ronstadt on there three times.”

“Three? What are you, breaking up with me via music?” Eddie teases you while he reads the insert you lovingly wrote on, little hearts in the corners beside the 10 track listing.

“No! She’s just got a way with the language of love!” You whine into the phone and Eddie laughs.

“Okay, okay. I’ll keep it all to myself. Gives me something to listen to while I fall asleep.” Behind him the shower cuts off and he knows Gareth will be out to finish his tangent on getting bullied out of his terrible pizza toppings. “You gonna be okay if I let you go?”

“I won’t cry myself to sleep if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Oh shut up, I know you walk that widows peak night and day awaiting my return from…Detroit.”

“I don’t waste my time like that. I know you’re up to your armpits in groupies.”

Eddie looks around the old motel room and scoffs. “If you think four nerds are pulling groupies in the kind of room we have, I have a river to sell you.”

After saying goodnight five times and you finally hanging up on him being sappy he flings himself into the bathroom after Gareth and before Jeff and Frank get back with food. Four straight hours in a car with three other men makes him want to crawl out of skin so he watches the steam roll out from the behind the shower curtain with anticipation. Almost scalding water leaves red marks over his shoulders and down his chest, enough to make him feel clean again while he rinses his hair. He can hear muffled voices from the other side of the thin bathroom door and knows he’s been relegated to the small couch in their room.

“You know, it’d be nice to get the bed once in a while.” He says when he exits the bathroom and snatches two slices from the open box on the single king bed.

“If you didn’t try to spoon all of us we would.”

“Oh what, you bothered by a little cuddling?”

Gareth glares at Eddie hard and Jeff cracks up at the deep breath he takes in. “If it was just cuddling I wouldn’t think anything of it, but you turn into the world’s only land octopus! I’ve never been so sweaty in my life! I don’t know how your girl puts up with it, you’re a fucking radiator!”

“This is why I always take the cot.” Frank singsongs from said cot while watching the local news.

The bickering continues as Eddie makes his temporary bed on the too hard, too small couch and finally ends when Jeff just shuts off the lights. “I need everyone to shut the fuck up for the next five hours okay?”

Eddie only hums and fishes around for his headphones, cassette player tucked up under the blanket with him. With the tv flashing across the walls Eddie starts to drift off to the slow beat of “Blue Bayou”, a soft chuckle for your choice of intro, and by the end of it he’s almost out when he hears your voice.

“Okay, so uhm, this is actually your final warning to stop playing this for everyone because you never listen to me so I’m trying to save us both some face you ratfink.”

His eyes snap open in the dark and he pulls the player out from under the covers like it’ll tell him what’s going on.

“I’m pretty sure you’ll listen to me this time though if I put a warning on your mixtape.”

He slaps around beside him on the floor for the case and squints at it in the flashing tv lights to see if you wrote something he missed.

“Anyways though, I do miss you and I hope your show goes well. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there but there’s never much room in those motels, huh?”

He can tell you moved around while recording, the bumping of the tape deck clacking in his ears. He’s glad it’s dark so none of the guys give him shit for the blush he knows is dusting his cheeks.

“Hell, one day soon you’ll get your own room and then I can come out and I don’t have to do sappy shit like this.”

The recording cuts and jumps to Carly Simon’s “You Belong to Me” and Eddie can’t help but laugh and feel hollow at the same time. As small as this couch is it would be nice to feel your weight on top of him, your head smushed in next to his sharing headphones that might snap from overextension. The song cuts off a few notes early to shuffling sounds and then your strained voice.

“This is really hard to do one handed, I won’t lie, but I wasn’t just gonna whisper sweet nothings to you.”

One handed? He can barely make out your breathing but he can hear the gasp alongside your light laughter.

“I don’t know if you know this, and if you don’t I’m sure I’m just inflating your ego but-“

The long sigh that follows finally jogs his tired brain and keys him into what’s happening. He whips his head to the side to see the sleeping forms of the other three before he sits up and pays closer attention.

“You have amazing hands Eddie, and it isn’t just-ohhh-it isn’t just the guitar playing you know? You know just where that spot is. I think your fingers are longer, I don’t know.”

Suddenly Bonnie Raitt is in his ear and he’s fumbling for the buttons on the side of the player to fast forward because while he appreciates your mixtape skills, now is not the fucking time. You would make him wait through three more songs before he accidentally runs into the middle of your recording, a thin moan of his name that makes him stand and head for the bathroom.

“-and I just miss you a lot and you’ve only been gone f-for what, a day by the time you get this?”

His lighter clicks in the dark while juggles the tape player and his pack of cigarettes.

“You actually just left my place. We had dinner and I told you I wouldn’t fuck you because it’s like good luck or some shit. I heard boxers do it like that.”

You have a remarkable way of running your mouth while otherwise occupied, thoughts that zip between moans and even he has a hard time keeping up. In the bathroom he cracks the small window so he doesn’t set the smoke detector off and then locks the door behind him before turning the shower on full blast. When he finally sits on the edge of the tub he expects a little more from you before Bill Withers starts singing about missing sunshine and he has to fast forward again.

“You’d think I’d be a little embarrassed to do this but actually it’s-fuck-it’s kind of easier to rec-“

Eddie sucks on his cigarette until the cherry burns bright red and his lungs start screaming, the cut off voice in his ears lending to quiet sounds of your hand working fast to make your breath jump in your chest. He thinks about you probably laying on the floor of your tiny studio, right at the foot of your bed with that big boombox next to your head set to record. That pillow that’s too big for your tiny couch, the one that got relegated to a ‘floor pillow’, stuffed behind your head while your toes catch on the edge of your green rug as you try to brace yourself.

Eddie sits on the edge of the tub and breathes in his own exhaled smoke and chews on his lip till it goes almost numb. Sits there and listens to your gasps and whimpers, the far off wet slick of your fingers moving faster.

“You’d think…I was making you…a tape to send you off to war.” Your laugh is light, forced air before it chokes off on his name and he slides down to the cold tile floor. Cigarette tossed into the tub behind his head, he’ll fish the butt out of the drain when he’s done listening to your voice.

“Barely a long weekend and-and-ah shit!”

You’ve tranced him, hardly notices the dig of the tile against his bare skin, doesn’t give a shit that this floor is dirtier than he can imagine probably. He lets his vision fuzz with the steam filling the small bathroom so he can focus on your voice and try to picture you laid out in front of him. It’s just another lazy afternoon, weed haze ringing your apartment while he watches you from across the room.

“I miss you when you’re gone. It’s only four days but I miss you Eddie.”

Sitting on that tiny couch and mesmerized by the dance of your fingers over your own skin. Nails press lightly into lines of ink to trail up your thigh and over your hip, to press into the softness of your belly. You’d hold his gaze the whole time like a dare while your other hand kneaded at your chest. When those adventuring fingers finally dip between your thighs and you sigh so light, Eddie follows suit.

Through the headphones he can hear you closer now like your lips were pressed to his ear. Heavy pants and no more words, just breathing that stutters and climbs in pitch. He wastes no romance on himself, not here in this cramped bathroom, not when he can almost feel your breath hot and damp against his neck. With every hitch of your voice he speeds his hand up, didn’t even bother pulling his shorts down all the way. In his imagination you give him a chastising smile for it before your reddened eyes roll back into your skull on a moan and he uses both hands now, just like you would.

The next song started and ended maybe but his hair clings to him in the steam and his sweat. There’s a chord change he thinks that proceeds his stomach clenching and his thighs aching before it all cuts off with your loud moan. You must have slapped at the player too late, not catching all of your agonies for him. Not everything, sure, but the important part is there. Your voice chanting low as your pleasure ebbs, his name over and over until you giggle and gasp.

Soft hands, phantom and damp with arousal and sweat cup his face when he cums, the heel of his palm shoved into his mouth to stifle the high noises trying to escape his throat. The track clicks again back to music and it isn’t until Eddie hears Peter Frampton that he starts to crash back into reality.

“If I know you like I think I do, I’m sure you’re rolling your eyes at me.” You giggle again at the end of the cassette, satiated and melancholy. “I just wanted you to have a little something, though I am sorry I buried it all in some of the best love songs ever written.”

You leave him with an I love you and another I miss you and a little bit of a mess to clean up. In twenty minutes though, when he’s back on the couch having evaded being caught and sucking down another smoke, he falls asleep and dreams about that hazy afternoon he intends to give you when he gets home.

[p-taryn-dactyl]

tell me you love me

a/n: i've seen a lot of oblivious!reader x sevika but i thought it would be fun to do a oblivious!sevika x reader. someone has probably done this trope before but here's my take on it!

word count: 1.7k

warning(s): oblivious!sevika - slight angst - councilor!sevika - insecurity (on both parts) - thieram is a real one - mention of sevika being a regular at the brothel - i'm bad at dialogue my apologies everyone - not proof read - rushed - hope this doesn't suck too bad

The bar was quiet, save for a few customers sitting in the far corners, nursing their drinks at a lenient pace. After the war, Zaun didn't feel the same, there was an air of expectancy, like nothing was truly over. Though, you thought, defeating Noxus and whatever Arcane deviantcy was a win in your book. You wiped down the counter, humming a soft song as you thought about everything. You had thought that once everything was over, you could finally officially reveal your feelings for Zaun's scary lady, Silco's former right hand lady - Sevika. However, it seemed that since she had been given a seat on the council, she was never at your bar anymore. Over the years you had tried to subtly show Sevika the true extent of your feelings, inviting her over for a private drink, only for her to show up with her gaming buddies and you feeling ridiculous in the new dress you had bought.

Once, you thought she had finally realized what you were asking, her soft smile when she accepted your invitation to your apartment for dinner sending butterflies ablaze in your stomach. You remembered the hours you spent before she arrived, cooking and cleaning, fussing over your outfit and your hair, thankful you had taken enough time off to fully prepare everything. You remember setting up the table, putting the finishing touches on the centerpiece when you heard her loud knock at the door. The butterflies in your stomach got so intense that when you opened your door and saw Sevika standing there, they died just as quickly as they came.

"Hey, Y/N, thanks for inviting me over. gods know I'm starved right now."

You remember merely nodding, silent as you blinked back tears, moving to let Sevika in as she obliviously rambled on about her day. You loved how open she was with you, her carefully placed demeanor cracking to show her true personality, something you wore as an honor. Now, you thought that she saw you only as a friend, a shoulder to cry - more like complain - on. You remember vividly how her newly cut was hair mussled, her shirt and neck stained with lipstick, how her own lips seemed to be swollen. Each little detail sent a stabbing feeling into your heart, making you feel numb as Sevika took in the carefully placed dinner table.

"Damn, this is nice. Is anyone else expected to come?" She asked as she plopped down into her chair, manspreading her legs comfortably in a way that you still, in an annoyed realization, found incredibly attractive. You shook your head, the feeling of rejection and disappointment weighing on your shoulders.

"Just you." It came out as a confession but Sevika took it as an answer. You remember the rest of the night being a blur, you had come to some kind of strange acceptance.

This event was just before everything went down and now you were ready to put everything behind you. You knew Sevika still frequented the Brothel, albeit more secretively now that she sat on the Council, so you were determined to catch her whether when she was arriving or leaving one day to firmly expose yourself. You knew she had no interest in being with you, her dodging all your advances over the years had made that clear enough, but you couldn't live with the weight of your feelings bearing down on you. If you could just let her know now, you could finally move on.

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

Sevika sat sullenly in her seat, barely registering that the meeting was over. Shoola gentley nudged her, breaking her out of whatever place her mind had taken her. The councilor smiled at Sevika, gesturing her to join her as they left the Council room. Sevika joined reluctantly, still feeling out of place within the group of people who she had previously hated so intensely.

"Any plans today? Someone to go back home to?" Shoola's question rattled Sevika, who found herself answering with a shake of her head and a kiss of her teeth.

"Nope. Guess no one's up to being with me."

Shoola would have replied with an encouragement, would it not be for the exasperated explanation that sounded from behind them.

"You've got to be kidding me!"

Both Shoola and Sevika spun around to see Thieram, one of the Last Drop's bartenders, holding a box of books from Piltover's library he borrowed from Vi. Sevika raised an eyebrow at him, a silent question.

"That's just ridiculous!" He adjusted the box to wave an incredulous hand at Sevika, almost spilling the box, "Seriously! Please don't kill me, but you seriously can't believe no one has ever showed an interest in you!"

Shoola laughed, crossing her arms.

"Are you wanting to announce something?"

Sevika had an uncomfortable expression on her face, like she would rather be anywhere than this situation. Thieram shook his head a little too hard, setting his face in a false bravado.

"N-no, but do you know how many shifts I've been through where Y/N can only talk about how nice your new haircut looks? How much she likes your piercing - a little too much if you ask me -? How many times she's asked you out only for you to make her cry in the break room before plastering on a smile to serve you and your gaming buddies a drink?" He seemed out of breath before he continued, starting to walk backwards, away from the woman who was now staring intensely at the young man, "Either you're incredibly oblivious, please stop looking at me like that, or you've been playing with my friends feelinsg for years. She's planning on telling you her feelings soon, I really should stop talking, so that she can move on."

Sevika felt time stop around her as she absorbed what Thieram was saying. For years she had harbored a crush against you, something that grew and flourished over the years as she grew closer to you, experienced more and more of your kindness and strength. She had thought you had only wanted to be friends, you had constantly invited her over to talk or have a drink but - oh. Oh.

Sevika, with this new realization, pushed past Thieram, leaving him standing there with an amused Shoola. If what he was saying was true, she couldn't handle you moving on, she had lost so many already.

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

You had just finished your closing duties when the doors to the Last Drop burst open, revealing a frantic looking Sevika. You barely had time to open your mouth before Sevika was behind the bar, standing so close to you that your back was pressed up against the counter and Sevika's breath was warm against your cheeks. It was silent for a moment as she caught her breath, her eyes staring deeply into yours. You started to talk but Sevika beat you to it, her words coming out in a rush.

"Do you love me?"

Her blunt question made you freeze, your eyes widening and your hands starting to shake. Sevika swallowed, leaning her head forward to lightly set her forehead against yours, taking a deep breath. Her arms came to rest on either side of you, the mechanics of her left arm whirring silently. Her breath was just as shaky as her words as she continued, this time whispering.

"Tell me you love me."

For a moment, all you could do was breathe. Here was Sevika, the woman you had loved for years, the woman you had convinced yourself never saw you like that, practically begging for you to love her. With soft hands, you cradled Sevika's face, smiling at how she subconsciously nuzzled into your palm. You felt years worth of tension leave her shoulders as she further leaned into you, her arms now wrapping around your waist as a tight hug. In a moment of adrenaline, you pulled Sevika in for a kiss. It was a mere brush of your lips, a breath of waiting passed before Sevika was pulling you closer, her lips claiming yours in a kiss that stole your breath. It seemed like time had stopped around the two of you before you pulled away, Sevika chasing your lips slightly. You pressed two fingers against her lips, chuckling softly at her confused expression.

"If I tell you, what can I expect your response to be?" Your question was playful, yet you still held your breath. Sevika looked at you incredulously, scoffing before pushing your hand away from her mouth and leaning in to where when she spoke, her lips brushed against yours.

"What do you think?"

You glared playfully, leaning backwards and crossing your arms, ignoring how uncomfortable this new position was.

"I think even if I yelled it from the rooftops you would still think we were only friends."

Sevika had the decency to look sheepish, biting her lip before putting a hand on your back to pull you close once more.

"I'll listen this time, I promise." Her words were soft and warm, incredibly sincere as they comforted you like a hug. You let her brush her nose against yours as you smiled, wrapping your arms around her neck to rest on her shoulders. You pulled her close, so that now your lips brushed against her ear as you spoke.

"I love you." You whispered, slight fear tinging your words, afraid this could all be a dream, or worse, a sick joke. It was like a switch went off, Sevika's shy demeanor melting away, her eyes filled with fire as she lifted you up to sit on the counter, her lips claiming yours. This kiss was different than the first, deeper and more intense, fueled with your confession. Sevika pulled away, her forehead once again leaning against yours as she spoke.

"I've been an idiot for years," you hummed in agreement, "I hurt you with my obliviousness, I didn't think you could ever return my feelings."

Hope blossomed in your chest, understanding what she was trying to say.

"Thieram told me you were wanting to move on and I-" she paused, leaning back ever so slightly so that she could look into your eyes, "I don't want that. I want you."

You could tell she wanted to say more, confess more, but you understood why she held back, the walls she held around herself were so carefully constructed.

Smiling, you nodded, running a hand through her hair.

"You have me."

a/n: and this kinda sucked ik but i had to write something or else my mind was gonna explode. thanks for reading!

[nenelonomh]

giving up the 'new year, new me' mindset

the concept of "new year, new me" is alluring because it suggests a fresh start and the possibility of transforming our lives overnight.

however, this mindset can often lead to unrealistic expectations and immense pressure to make drastic changes all at once. instead of focusing on an all-encompassing transformation, it’s more beneficial to adopt a sustainable approach to personal growth and improvement.

embracing gradual, meaningful changes throughout the year can lead to more enduring and fulfilling results. this approach allows you to build on small successes, develop healthy habits, and maintain a positive outlook without the stress of an all-or-nothing resolution.

adopting a healthier mindset:

set flexible goals: instead of rigid new year's resolutions, set flexible goals that allow room for growth and adaptation. recognize that progress is not always linear.

focus on habits: prioritize building positive habits rather than setting ambitious goals. habits form the backbone of lasting change and are easier to maintain.

celebrate small wins: acknowledge and celebrate small achievements along the way. this reinforces positive behavior and keeps you motivated.

continuous improvement: adopt a mindset of continuous improvement rather than a complete overhaul. this approach encourages ongoing personal development throughout the year.

reflect regularly: take time to reflect on your progress and adjust your goals as needed. regular reflection helps you stay on track and adapt to changing circumstances.

self-compassion: be kind to yourself. recognize that setbacks are a normal part of the process and use them as learning opportunities rather than reasons to give up.

practical steps:

identify key areas: focus on a few key areas where you want to see improvement. breaking it down into specific areas makes it more manageable.

create a plan: develop a realistic plan with actionable steps to achieve your goals. ensure it fits within your daily routine and lifestyle.

track progress: use a journal, app, or planner to track your progress. seeing your achievements, no matter how small, can be a great motivator.

seek support: share your goals with friends, family, or a support group. having accountability partners can help you stay committed and offer encouragement.

remember, personal growth is a journey, not a destination. embracing a mindset of gradual improvement can lead to more meaningful and lasting changes, making each day an opportunity to be your best self.

🫶nene

instagram | pinterest | blog site

[avcdgrdn]

── .✦ [ FIC ]: can i really stay here? [ part five ]

[ part one ] & [ part two ] & [ part three ] & [ part four ]

mullet stanley pines x innkeeper reader

tags: fluff, sfw, a bit of suggestive talk

word count: 2029

˙✧˖° ༘ ⋆｡˚

the serene atmosphere of your sunlit bedroom was suddenly disturbed as you jolted up in bed with a gasp.

heart racing and head spinning, you sat there, stunned.

was it … just a dream?

your brow furrowed as you looked up and around the familiar space. there was your bookshelf, your desk, your chair … oh.

you rubbed your eyes to do a double take at your chair. sure enough, atop it laid the two-piece outfit you had worn out with stanley last night.

slowly, a wide grin spread across your face. as you began to get out of bed and prepare yourself for the day, memories came back to you one by one.

let’s see, then … when we got back here, we had that conversation in the car. i remember being really sleepy, and kind of stumbling into the inn.

you wandered into your bathroom, splashing your face with cold water.

then, we parted ways. he practically skipped away to his room.

the faucet ran as you laughed softly to yourself. a certain warmth filled your chest, spreading throughout your body: an uncontrollable joy.

who would’ve guessed? me, in love … i’m so happy.

suddenly, everything was peaches, unicorns, and rainbows. you felt as if the butterflies in your stomach were throwing a wild dance party, and all the world was invited. ecstatic, you danced around your room, putting on day clothes and taking extra care as you groomed yourself. yes, this called for three extra spritzes of your favorite fragrance. absolutely, it required your nicest jewelry. after all, you were on a serotonin high, and you never wanted to come down—the person that you love loves you back!

as you made your way out into the hallway, a part of you was tempted to slide down the staircase like mary poppins, but you quickly decided against it as you recalled your lack of magical gravity-altering powers. instead, you settled for a regular-paced descent, walking down both sets of stairs until you came out into the lobby.

you waved to one of your employees at the front desk. “good morning!”

“ah, good morning, boss. you sound cheery today. did something good happen?”

“wellll, yeahhh, you could say that …” you beamed, covering your mouth like a child with an innocent secret.

the worker laughed, shaking his head. “i won’t pry, although i do have a guess as to what it is. you’re all set to take your shift, by the way.” he walked out from the desk, and you took his place, watching as he disappeared to go on break.

just then, a hand touched your shoulder.

“boo.”

you jumped, whipping around to the source of the voice. a smug stanley stood beside you, laughing at the reaction he’d managed from you.

“haha! hey, don’t be scared, toots. ‘s just me.” he winked, giving you a small squeeze before letting his arm fall down to his side. “ya look cute t’day.”

“you look pretty nice yourself.” you hummed, giving him a quick once-over. that earned a small blush from stan, who stammered as he attempted to think of a comeback.

“oh—oh yeah? well you—uh … ahh, i got nothin’.” he grinned sheepishly, pleasantly surprised at the way you were matching his energy.

at that moment, the little entrance bell rung as the front door swung open. a new guest had entered the building. recognizing this, stan took his cue to back away and let you do your job.

the stranger approached the front desk, and you offered him a smile. “welcome to the inn! just a room for one today?”

the stranger, who appeared to be tall and blond, stared at you with piercing blue eyes. “yes … that was the plan. but i must say, you’re a charming little doll. you might just make it a room for two.”

you were taken aback. “sir—”

“hey, can you blame me? i’m in town for a tour, and i’m awfully bored … why don’t you humor me?”

*SLAM*

stanley’s rough hand hit the desk surface with force as he positioned himself between the stranger and yourself.

“you got a problem?”

his threatening words rumbled lowly, striking through the air like thunder.

“what’s it to you, lowlife raccoon? do you really think you’re scaring anyone with that attitude?”

the bulkier man growled, his eye twitching. “you wanna take this outside, punk?”

“yes, let’s. i’d hate for your little crush here to watch you get hurt.”

immediately, alarm bells went off in your head. “wait, what—”

stan began to walk towards the back door with the troublemaker. shooting a glance back at you, he mouthed ‘don’t worry’ before closing the door behind him. of course, that only made you worry twice as much.

a part of you longed to follow them and make sure nothing bad happened, but you knew that you couldn’t just abandon the desk during your shift. an anxious breath escaped from your lips as you craned your neck to try and see if you could catch a glance of them through the window.

mere seconds later, there was a distant crash. you startled, quickly running over to the back door and opening it to look for the two men. much to your relief, stanley came walking back over to you from around the corner, completely unscathed.

“guy ran off all scared after i knocked his tooth out. said sumthin’ about his ‘career being ruined’. tch, what a wuss.” he rolled his eyes, sliding his arm around your waist and walking you back towards the front desk. “sorry he said that stuff to ya. i took care of it, though, yeah?”

you flushed a shade of red at his arm around you and his close proximity. “y–yes. thank you, stan.”

the brunet puffed up with pride. “anytime, angel. if somebody tries anything like that again, y’ come get me. i’ll take care of you.”

looking this way and that, he leaned in and planted a soft kiss on your cheek before grabbing his car keys and walking towards the front door. “i gotta thing to do. see ya later, gator.”

you stood frozen in place, processing what had just happened. explosions were going off in your brain, and stan chuckled to himself as he left the inn.

some time passed, and it was finally your lunch break. you’d been thoroughly distracted all morning by the way stanley had been acting towards you.

he’s so … clingy. ugh, i miss him already.

his hair is so pretty … and his eyes … and that stubble …

you were slowly being pulled into daydream land—but the rumbling of your stomach snapped you out of it.

“urgh. time to eat.” you mumbled to yourself, making your way to your room. there were some leftovers in the fridge that were practically calling your name.

after retrieving the box of food and a clean fork, you turned around to return to the lobby, but stopped in your tracks upon seeing someone standing in the doorway.

“heya, toots!” stan beamed, his hands shoved into his jacket pockets. “yer never gonna believe what just happened.”

this was the most excited and happy you’d ever seen him. intrigued, you set down your leftovers on the table, giving him your full attention. “what is it?”

“i just landed a security guard gig for the theater down the street. they figured out i could throw a punch or two, an’ offered to pay me full-time to keep troublemakers away from their shows!”

your eyes widened as you realized what this meant. “then … that means …”

“i can stick around n’ actually have a chance at making the green i need!” grinning, he threw his arms around you. “i’ll stop takin’ up space here, n’ get a place for us—i mean, me—i mean—”

you laughed, squeezing him tightly and resting your head on his shoulder. “stan, i am so proud of you!”

hearing those words did something inside of him. his whole body tensed, then relaxed, overwhelmed with emotion. “you … you are?”

“of course! i love you too much to feel any other way, y’know.”

tears stung at his vision, and he hastily rubbed them away with his sleeve. “... heh, thank you.”

stepping back to look him in the eye, you rested both hands on top of his shoulders. “when you first got here … i could tell how unhappy you were. i hated seeing you like that.” you moved one hand to brush some hair out of his face. “and now look at you. you’ve come so far.”

stan melted into your touch, leaning his face into the palm of your hand without thinking. “yeah, i … i guess i have come a ways, huh?” he sighed, a tender smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “honestly, you were the one who caused it. ‘f it weren’t for all your help, i … i’d prob’ly be in an even darker place than i was before.” turning his head, he kissed the inside of your palm. “thank you.”

you blushed, your whole body warm with happiness, gratitude, and excitement. “well, i couldn’t just ignore you.” you pulled him into another embrace, unable to wipe the smile off your face. “stanley, you’ve captivated me, mind, heart, and soul.”

he hummed lowly, pushing your hair back to press another kiss to your forehead. “you did the same thing to me. i … just can’t stop thinkin’ about you.” he pulled his head back to gaze at you lovingly. “... ‘bout how lucky i got to find you.. my angel.”

“i love you.”

“heh– not more than i do, toots.”

“no proof.”

you were just inches away from a second-ever kiss when a knock on the door rudely interrupted, causing the two of you to jump away from each other and stare as it began to open.

“oh sh–” stan slapped his hand over his mouth, diving behind the sofa to hide. all you could do was stand there as normally as you possibly could, pretending like nothing important had been previously happening.

“uh … was there someone else in here, too?”

it was your coworker from earlier that day.

“NOPE! nobody. just me. why would you think that?”

he narrowed his eyes. “right … you know it’s your property, it’s okay if there was someone.” shaking his head, he remembered his initial purpose. “anyway, i just wanted to come find you to see if you wanted to go out to lunch with me and liz.”

“oh. well, uh …”

“... it would also be a nice opportunity to tell us about any … juicy secrets?”

you snickered, shaking your head fondly. “well, fine. i’ll tag along, then—with a plus one.”

“I KNEW IT! —i mean, uh, cool, good deal. we’re meeting in the lobby in ten.”

“i’ll be there.” you waved goodbye as he shut the door, and stan reappeared from behind the couch. the two of you simply exchanged looks, and started laughing.

so, you had a lovely lunch outing with two of your co-workers and a rather nervous stanley. he was surprisingly shy for the intimidating big-guy persona that he gave off, which was adorable. it didn’t take long for him to earn the approval of the others—they were both moved to tears after listening to his life story. jeff, the male of the two, kept complaining about how it wasn’t fair that you had such a good man just suddenly show up on your doorstep, whereas liz warned stan that if he ever hurt you he would have to deal with her. all in all, the whole group had a great time.

presently, you were sorting through a mail delivery that had come for the inn, making different piles for guests and employees who had received letters and other packages.

it was just then that something caught your eye.

it was a postcard … addressed to stan.

huh … i wonder what this could be about?

you stifled your curiosities and stopped yourself from reading his mail, and instead chose to slip it underneath his door.

oh, well. i’m sure it’s nothing important.

… right?

end

author's note:

*holds stanley so gently in the palm of my hand*

love this guy ... what a guy

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[mindfulstudyquest]

❥﹒♡﹒☕﹒ 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲-𝗺𝗮𝗻𝗮𝗴𝗲𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗴𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗺𝗮𝘆 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄

𝟭. set SMART goals ( 📒 )

make sure your goals are specific, measurable, actionable, realistic and time-bound. this will help you maintain focus and track your progress over time. how many times has it been you and your unrealistic to-do list against the world? well, it seems that a mile-long to-do list is not a good ally at all. remember that you are a person and not a machine, and that just dedicating four hours to deep work and concentration is A LOT. be kind to yourself and don't overload yourself with more work than you can humanly do.

𝟮. daily planning ( 🧸 )

mea culpa because i'm the first one who doesn't plan their day. to-do lists generally stress me out and make me feel overwhelmed as if i don't manage to complete all the tasks an asteroid will end up hitting the earth. but i recognize that it is a good starting point. sometimes i have too many things to do and i end up doing nothing in total confusion, but having at least a general list to follow gives me more motivation. moreover do we want to talk about the dopamine released when you tick an empty box? marvelous. maybe don't write down tasks that are too onerous and demanding, break them into several smaller tasks, also try to write simple activities such as "drink a glass of water" every now and then. having these low-commitment activities will help you stay motivated while completing more important tasks.

𝟯. reverse-engineering method ( 🪴 )

start with the end goal and work backwards to plan the actions needed to achieve it. this helps you maintain clarity on the steps to take and focus on the most relevant actions. the best thing to do is plan based on the time available and do your best to stick to your daily goal.

𝟰. timer roulette ( ⏳ )

choose a task from your to-do list and set a random timer between 15 and 45 minutes. work on that task with all your concentration until the timer goes off. this helps you fight procastination and keep your mind fresh.

𝟱. mind mapping time ( 📍 )

before starting a study session, take a few minutes to create a mental map of the subject you need to cover. this helps you see connections between concepts and organize information more effectively.

𝟲. task batching ( 🫒 )

group similar tasks together and tackle them in batches. for example, reply to all emails in one session rather than doing so at scattered times throughout the day. this helps you reduce transition time between tasks and maintain focus. contrary to popular belief, human beings are not truly multitasking (only a few possess this great ability) and when we do multiple things together we do nothing but shift our attention from one task to another, greatly reducing the quality of our performance. if possible, try to avoid these switches that are harmful to your focus and concentration.

𝟳. the pomodoro method ( 🍅 )

okay, y'all probably already know this one because it became so popular in the last year but if you don't, the pomodoro method is a time management technique developed by francesco cirillo in the late 80s. it is based on the idea of working for short periods of time, usually 25 minutes, followed by a short 5 minute break. after four rounds of work, a longer break is taken, usually 15-30 minutes. this technique helps improve concentration and productivity, as it breaks down work into manageable tasks and offers regular breaks to rest and regenerate energy. i personally prefer the 50/10 ratio while i'm studying but you decide which time ratio is better for you, i find it really useful and it helps me a lot while i'm studying for my exams.

[hannah-heartstrings]

I used to wreck myself every November trying to win NaNo, I'd stay up way too late, I made my caffeine addiction worse, and it'd leave me exhausted for the next few months (before that became my regular state). And none of it was even needed 'cause I write all the time anyway.

When I see people stressing over NaNo I tend to feel like they're hurting themselves and I get the impulse to be obnoxious. I don't want anyone hurting themselves but I also know that some find NaNo to be helpful and fun.

So I'll post some reminders than leave writeblr alone:

Take care of yourself through November

Maintaining your sleep schedule is important to staying healthy

Stay hydrated, highly caffeinated drinks can dehydrate you more

Make sure to rest your wrists and eyes and get up to stretch every so often

Remember that your brain needs a break sometimes too

Don't hurt yourself to make the deadlines

If you are hurting yourself, it's OK to just stop anytime, all the words you've written won't be wasted because you quit

In fact any words you write are never wasted

It's OK to not do NaNoWriMo

It's OK to do it with a smaller goal

It's OK to not win NaNoWriMo

Be kind to yourself

Whatever you decide to do, I wish you luck and love. 🍀🩷

[princessbrunette]

rafe with crybaby reader cause my heart 😍 shes real nervous to leave his room when she’s over even tho they’ve been together for ages but he’s tapping her butt and telling her to be a big girl and to do what she wants. so she goes to get water and little miss clumsy drops something and it breaks. maybe wards been having a bad week or smth so he comes out of his study and yells a little and she just cries her eyes out. rafe would loose his shit I know it ‼️

goddddd this !!!! i relate to this so hard bc i am a huge cry baby :( i don’t think ward would yell but i think he’d be an asshole in his own intimidating, highkey terrifying way.

you cringe as the glass shatters, eyes instantly welling up as you gasp — wanting to slap yourself. you’re a guest in the cameron’s home and you’re already messing things up and breaking things, how ungrateful could you be? almost instantly you hear quick and heavy footsteps, not rafes— no, he didn’t walk like that, you knew what his footsteps sounded like. this was ward.

he stands in the doorway, mouth agape a little, just staring at you like ‘seriously?’ and you wanna sink into the ground.

“i’m so sorry, mr cameron it was totally an accident. i’ll— i’ll buy a new—” you start, jumping into action by squatting and carefully trying to pick up the shards with your fingers. you knew it was dumb, but you panicked and wanted to make things right as quickly as possible.

“just— out of the way please. don’t touch it.” he holds up his hand, cutting you off making your mouth shut quickly. he used a very clipped tone with you, different from the usual welcoming and kind voice he spoke to you in. you stay quiet, stepping aside as you anxiously bite at your finger nail, watching him open a closet and pull out a broom.

you don’t know why, but even though you felt totally guilty you expected him to sweep it up— however he pins you with a stern gaze and holds the broom out. “c’mon, you’re gonna clean it up. okay?” his tone isn’t gentle, leaving no room for suggestion, more threatening if anything. you swallow, nodding frantically and take it from him, sweeping up.

he leans on the counter with his arms crossed watching you as you gather the shards. “you know, i welcomed you into my home sweetheart and this is just… you see how it might irritate me right? i’m not being unfair?” he tilts his head, gesturing that he wants you to look at him.

“no sir, i really really am sorry, i would never disrespec—” you will the tears to stay inside.

“its just… i’m having a rough day, i come home, i gotta listen to my son fucking you for what, an hour straight, with no regard for who might hear, and now i just wanna relax, and you’re smashing my good glasses in the kitchen. i don’t even really know why you were reaching for these glasses, honey, the regular glasses are right there like it’s common sense...” his voice doesn’t raise once, but your lip is wobbling, avoiding his eyes due to how stern and intimidating he was. you had no idea ward could be like this, he seemed so kind at first.

“respect is important, yeah? just try and remember.” he finishes up, running his hands under the tap before sparing you one last disapproving glance and walking to the kitchens exit. at once, rafe appears in the doorway in his sweatpants, coming to see what was taking so long. he glances at you with the broom, and then his dad, brows furrowing in confusion.

“whats going on?”

“just maybe teach your girlfriend some basic house training or respect rafe, i don’t know i’m tired…” he trails off, walking past his son back into the hallway. rafe is quick to react as usual, face screwing up in disgust and swivelling his whole body to follow his dad.

“excuse me? no, the fuck did you just say?” he asks, voice a little raised. you sigh, swiping your tears on the back of your wrists and pouring the shards into the bin before following.

“don’t make this a thing son, she broke my good glass so she’s cleaning it up, go to bed.” he waves him off but rafe storms infront of him.

“are you serious? she’s a guest in our home, what you — you’re always fuckin’ telling me to treat the guests with respect so what— the same doesn’t apply to my girl? fucking… apologise, now.” he demands, making his dad simply scoff. rafe didn’t didn’t like that. he stares him down, pushing his tongue into his cheek before flickering his eyes up at you. “go back to my room, baby i’ll be up soon. clearly i gotta have a conversation with my old man.” he drawls, eyes fixated back on his dads face, beaming with anger.

you do as he says, as always. the tears fall freely once you’re back in his room, sat on his bed, face in your hands sobbing and mewling. all you could do was curse yourself out internally. logically, you knew it was just a glass but it felt like a huge deal to you, never wanting to disrespect anyone let alone your boyfriends father. you hear the familiar footsteps of your boyfriend eventually, and you don’t even try to compose yourself— continuing to cry even when he opened the door and re entered.

he sighs, anger and sadness flooding him at the fact that his father had made his baby cry like this, so soon into knowing eachother. he watches you for a moment, trying to let the anger subside, itching his head before slowly coming to sit beside you on the edge of the bed.

“i’m really, really sorry about that baby.” his voice is a warm comfort, slightly soothing your hurt.

“how have i already messed up so bad? he hates me now.” you whine and he shushes you with a frown, wrapping a strong arm around you to tuck your head beneath his chin, cheek to his chest.

“hey, hey, shh. my dads just an asshole… but he doesn’t hate you. he’s just having a bad day and decided to take it out on you for whatever fuckin’ reason. you’re all good. it’s just a glass, right? means nothin’.”

“it didn’t seem like it meant nothing to him.” you pull away to look at him, eyes watery and puffy bottom lip pouted. he sighs once more, both hands rising to wipe his thumbs beneath your eyes, caressing your cheeks.

“and like i said, he’s just an asshole. don’t let him get to you baby. yeah?”

you sniffle. “yeah.”

“good, show me that smile, c’mon.” a hand drops down to your waist, digging his fingers in a little, threatening to tickle. you can’t help it, even just a threat of a smile on rafes lips makes you grin, which only mirrors in his expression. “there y’go. that’s my big girl.”

[trustmypoison]

SVT helping a partner with chronic pain/fatigue

Requested? Yes!

Genre: Comfort

A/N: I received two requests, one for chronic pain and one for chronic fatigue. I feel that these kind of go hand in hand, if only because pain can lead to fatigue or vice versa, so I’ve combined these requests to avoid too much repetition between posts. 

A/N #2: I grouped members by specific aspects for this one. That’s not to say that any of them wouldn’t do any or all of the items listed (plus more), but they’re grouped by what I think they're most suited for or would do naturally, regardless of your condition.

Helps you stay active - Seungcheol, Woozi, Seungkwan, Chan

This list kind of started as the gym rat line, but I thought better of it, so hear me out. These guys strike me as ones that really enjoy being physically active, albeit in different ways. When you tell him the doctor recommends regular exercise but you just can't bring yourself to do it, his immediate response is, “I’ll do it with you, baby.” He’ll go to the gym with you and stick with you through whatever workout you’re feeling up to today, even if it’s not quite what his workout would usually look like. He’ll ask you to go to the park to play a sport casually with lots of breaks in between, if only to reframe it as something fun rather than exercise. He might even try to teach you some choreography, not with the goal of you really learning it or being good at it, but to find some stress-free, lower-impact ways to move your body. 

Helps you find ways to get quality sleep - Hoshi, Wonwoo, Vernon

You might think one of these things doesn't belong, but I have yet another ‘hear me out’ (I’m full of them!!!). Wonwoo and Vernon both seem to value sleep and having a regular routine around it. They’ll find ways to help you relax - be it a hot shower before bed, some light reading (Wonwoo’s voice reading to you, hello??), or things like heating pads or special pillows to make sleep something that is more likely to happen for you. Now, I think Hoshi needs those things just as much as you do, if only because he needs the opportunity to recharge. Those little habits make it easier to sleep and get restorative rest. 

Helps you manage symptoms - Joshua, Mingyu, Minghao

When you tell him that your doctor recommends cutting or limiting certain things from your diet, he’s totally on board and will absolutely do it with you. The processed foods stop appearing on the grocery list. The sugary dessert after dinner is replaced by a big bowl of fresh fruit. The caffeinated drinks are replaced by non-caffeinated options or different fun substitutes entirely. He’ll never deny any of those things for you if you’re really craving them, but if eliminating and trying new things might help you then he’ll have your back. He’s also got the heating pads, massages, and pain meds on lock for when a good diet just doesn’t cut it. 

Helps you manage stress - Jeonghan, Jun, DK

He sees the cycle. You get stressed with work, school, family life, whatever. On the heels of that stress is fatigue, quickly followed by pain. He’ll do all the things mentioned above when the fatigue and pain is unavoidable, but he really likes to do things that help manage the stress to begin with. The chores are done so you don't have to dread them all day for when you get home. He’s helping you stay active, if only to work off that stress before it consumes you. He’s packing your lunch so you can get a few extra minutes of sleep or just simply take your time getting ready for the day. It’s the little things that you might not even notice he does all the time, but when you remember you needed to do something and find that it’s already been done, you get a moment to sigh in relief and just rest. 

[frankingsteinery]

i’ve seen a lot of people in general agreement of the headcanon that victor is on the spectrum, but i’ve very rarely seen someone examine the why, and being the persnickety superfluous person that i am (and not being immune to projection myself) i thought i’d try my hand at it and break down his autistic traits!

disclaimer that this interpretation is speculative and is simply my unprofessional neurodivergent opinion + it’s based on contemporary understandings of psychology, which were not part of shelley's context, however autistic people have always existed even if there wasnt a word for it during that time period, etc etc. you know the drill

without further ado!

-- communication & social interaction

first and foremost, many autistics struggle with socialization. victor’s inclination to attach himself to a single friend (henry) and only talking to those inside of his close circle rather than forming many connections reflects this tendency, and he himself acknowledges his dislike and indifference of strangers. for example:

“It was my temper to avoid a crowd and to attach myself fervently to a few. I was indifferent, therefore, to my school-fellows in general; but I united myself in the bonds of the closest friendship to one among them”

“My life had hitherto been remarkably secluded and domestic, and this had given me invincible repugnance to new countenances… I believed myself totally unfitted for the company of strangers”

furthermore, he lacks relationship degradation (he does not require regular interaction or relationship maintenance to sustain a bond). during the creation process, he (presumably) goes months without writing to his family and friends, which clerval lectures him for:

“Very well, and very happy, only a little uneasy that they hear from you so seldom. By the by, I mean to lecture you a little upon their account myself."

yet upon his arrival at ingolstadt:

"...nothing could equal [his] delight on seeing Clerval."

victor also takes things literally several times and social nuances can fly over his head. he demonstrates this literalism when first meeting elizabeth:

"And when, on the morrow, she presented Elizabeth to me as her promised gift, I, with childish seriousness, interpreted her words literally and looked upon Elizabeth as mine"

and, of course, the infamous i will be with you on your wedding-night scene, when the creature obviously means he tends to harm elizabeth, not victor himself:

“It is well. I go; but remember, I shall be with you on your wedding-night.” I started forward and exclaimed, “Villain! Before you sign my death-warrant, be sure that you are yourself safe!"

he also goes nonverbal and groans/vocalizes instead of speaking when upset. there's several instances of this that i can recall (i believe another is with walton), but i could only find one, where elizabeth has to speak for him during their visit to justine:

"When she saw who it was, she approached me and said, “Dear sir, you are very kind to visit me; you, I hope, do not believe that I am guilty?” ... I could not answer. “No, Justine,” said Elizabeth"

and this is more of a sidenote but he gives walton every. minute. detail. of his story, including his childhood in-depth (which was not particularly relevant to the moral of victors tale, which was the whole reason he wound up sharing his story in the first place) which definitely feels like. Something. reminiscent of infodumping almost.

-- repetitive behaviors

victor shows both repetitive motions and repetitive language to such an extent that it'd be ridiculous to put them all here, particularly when he is distressed and agitated. some of these motions include clasping his hands, covering his face with his hands, and gnashing his teeth, which he does on walton's boat, after finding out about william's death, in his confrontation with the creature, during his time at the orkney islands, etc. the use of certain phrases/verbal repetition  include his many "great god!"s and "begone!"s, which he usually says in reaction to the creature or while grieving a loved one. these behaviors are arguably self-stimulatory (stimming) and done to cope with overwhelming, stressful situations.

-- fixations/spinterests

ths one's perhaps his most blatant characteristic. victor has a highly focused, intense interest, initially in in the workings of the world itself:

"It was the secrets of heaven and earth that I desired to learn... still my inquiries were directed to the metaphysical, or in its highest sense, the physical secrets of the world."

"The world was to me a secret, which I desired to discover;"

"I have described myself as always having been imbued with a fervent longing to penetrate the secrets of nature"

this is to the extent that his education is noticeably different from his peers, both in acceleration in the topic of his choice and neglect of other, more typical studies due to the intensity of this focus:

“I confess that neither the structure of languages, nor the code of governments, nor the politics of various states possessed attractions for me.”

“…but by some fatality the overthrow of these men disinclined me to pursue my accustomed studies.”

this early fixation eventually narrows into a special interest in ancient alchemy, after victor finds one of agrippa's works and a "new light seems to dawn upon [his] mind," upon which he proceeds to acquire all the works of agrippa and other authors:

"When I returned home my first care was to procure the whole works of this author, and afterwards of Paracelsus and Albertus Magnus. I read and studied the wild fancies of these writers with delight; they appeared to me treasures known to few besides myself"

this remains his special interest until he is a teenager, upon which, after finding out ancient alchemy has been disproven, he takes up mathematics until his arrival at ingolstadt. then, his interest shifts into a fixation on natural philosophy, particularly chemistry, which becomes his "sole occupation":

"He concluded with a panegyric upon modern chemistry, the terms of which I shall never forget... one by one the various keys were touched which formed the mechanism of my being; chord after chord was sounded, and soon my mind was filled with one thought, one conception, one purpose"

"I read with ardour those works, so full of genius and discrimination, which modern inquirers have written on these subjects... the stars often disappeared in the light of morning whilst I was yet engaged in my laboratory. As I applied so closely, it may be easily conceived that my progress was rapid. My ardour was indeed the astonishment of the students, and my proficiency that of the masters"

which, of course, develops into an interest in physiology and the structure of the human frame, which leads to his obsession over the secret of life, followed by being "thus engaged, heart and soul, in one pursuit" during the creation of the creature.

-- intense, volatile emotions; resistance to change

in general, victor is very emotionally demonstrative, and has difficulty managing these emotions. he also experiences quick fluctuations in emotion. this is something he has experienced since childhood, and is something he maintains as an adult, when he acknowledges that:

"My temper was sometimes violent…"

some examples of these shifts in emotion:

"My heart, which was before sorrowful, now swelled with something like joy..."

"Sometimes he commanded his countenance and tones and related the most horrible incidents with a tranquil voice, suppressing every mark of agitation; then, like a volcano bursting forth, his face would suddenly change to an expression of the wildest rage as he shrieked out imprecations on his persecutor"

hand in hand with his emotional dysregulation, he shows resistance to change and has strong reactions to this change. the most obvious example of this is during the animation of the creature:

"The different accidents of life are not so changeable as the feelings of human nature... but now that I had finished, the beauty of the dream vanished, and breathless horror and disgust filled my heart"

"Mingled with this horror, I felt the bitterness of disappointment; dreams that had been my food and pleasant rest for so long a space were now become a hell to me; and the change was so rapid, the overthrow so complete!"

but it also occurs when moving to ingolstadt, suggesting a discomfort with unfamilarity and a need for stability:

I threw myself into the chaise that was to convey me away and indulged in the most melancholy reflections. I, who had ever been surrounded by amiable companions, continually engaged in endeavouring to bestow mutual pleasure—I was now alone.

-- black-and-white thinking

this aspect is most clearly shown through the way victor thinks about, and drops and gains interests and relationships. he spends years studying ancient alchemy and it is his principle interest, and then drops it on a dime and suddenly looks upon this passion with contempt:

“By one of those caprices of the mind which we are perhaps most subject to in early youth, I at once gave up my former occupations, set down natural history and all its progeny as a deformed and abortive creation, and entertained the greatest disdain for a would-be science which could never even step within the threshold of real knowledge. In this mood of mind I betook myself to the mathematics and the branches of study appertaining to that science as being built upon secure foundations, and so worthy of my consideration”

later, he spends four years with his mind filled with "one thought, one conception, one purpose" studying the processes of life so intensely he forgoes adequate food, water and rest. this culminates in the creation and subsequent animation of the creature, which he again turns around and abandons this interest immediately, to the extent that he cannot bear to think of natural philosophy:

Ever since the fatal night, the end of my labours, and the beginning of my misfortunes, I had conceived a violent antipathy even to the name of natural philosophy.

it's a very polarized, all-or-nothing approach that is mirrored with his relationships, too, which he alternatedly neglects -- he cuts contact when he goes to ingolstadt but abruptly picks it up again when henry comes into his life; when the creature flees victor's apartment, victor treats it as if he never existed entirely; his family only comes to the center of the narrative again when he gets the letter from alphonse about william's murder, despite 2 years having been passed at ingolstadt, etc.

and finally;

-- low empathy

victor repeatedly focuses solely on his own internal emotional experience, and struggles to fully comprehend and understand the depth of feelings of others and respond with compassion in conventional ways. during justine's trial, for instance, he elevates his own suffering above justine's, even as she faces her literal execution:

I rushed out of the court in agony. The tortures of the accused did not equal mine; she was sustained by innocence, but the fangs of remorse tore my bosom and would not forgo their hold.

Despair! Who dared talk of that? The poor victim, who on the morrow was to pass the awful boundary between life and death, felt not, as I did, such deep and bitter agony. 

similarly, victor dismisses ernest's grief after william's death, he frames it in terms of how it affects himself -- telling ernest to "be more calm" to avoid causing his own discomfort:

Ernest began to weep as he said these words. “Do not,” said I, “welcome me thus; try to be more calm, that I may not be absolutely miserable the moment I enter my father’s house after so long an absence.

this detachment suggests not deliberate cruelty (victor very clearly loves his family, and he's said to be kind several times) but a limited capacity to process and respond to other's emotions. this is a detachment that extends to his views of the dead. during the creation of the creature, he refers to the corpses he utilizes as only "materials" instead of once having been fully-fledged human beings, and he does not contemplate the lives or dignity of the deceased.

aaaaaand thats it! thank you for indulging my. headcanon projection land. let me know what you all think...

[goddessinnerglow]

Become Your Best Version Before 2025 - Day 13

Financial Planning and Budgeting

Hello Goddesses! I know that talking about money, can feel scary or boring, but after working on our stress management tools yesterday, it's perfect timing to address something that's often a huge source of stress for many of us: finances.

First things first: if thinking about money makes you want to hide under your blanket, you're not alone. But taking control of your finances isn't about becoming a math genius or never buying another coffee again. It's about making friends with your money so it can help you live your best life.

Let's break this down into bite-sized pieces that won't give you a headache:

Start Where You Are

Remember when you first learned to ride a bike? You didn't start by doing tricks, you started with training wheels. Money management is the same way! First step: just look at your current situation. Open those banking apps you've been avoiding. Take a deep breath and look at your statements. Knowledge is power, even if it's a bit scary at first.

The Money Map Exercise

Grab a piece of paper (or open your notes app) and let's do something simple:

Write down all your income sources

List your regular monthly expenses (yes, including those sneaky subscriptions!)

Don't forget those irregular expenses like annual fees or seasonal costs

Look at what's left (or what's missing)

Congratulations! You've just created your first basic budget outline.

The 50/30/20 Guideline

Here's a popular way to think about your money:

50% for needs (rent, groceries, utilities)

30% for wants (fun stuff, shopping, entertainment)

20% for future you (savings, debt payment, investments)

These numbers might not work for everyone, especially depending on where you live. The important thing is to have some kind of plan that works for YOU.

Smart Money Habits You Can Start Today

The 24-Hour Rule: For non-essential purchases over a certain amount (you decide the number!), wait 24 hours before buying. You'd be surprised how many "must-haves" become "maybe nots" overnight!

Bill Calendar: Set up a simple calendar with all your bill due dates. Future you will be so grateful!

Automate Your Savings: Even if it's just $5 a week, set up automatic transfers to a savings account. It's like hiding money from yourself!

Track Your Spending: For just one week, write down every single purchase. No judging, just observing. You might find some surprising patterns!

The Emergency Fund Challenge

Let's start building that safety net! Even $500 in savings can make a huge difference in an emergency. Start with a goal of saving just $25 this week. Too much? Start with $10. Too little? Make it $50. The amount isn't as important as getting started.

Money Goals That Make Sense

Instead of vague goals like "save more," try specific ones like:

Save enough for three months of basic expenses by December 2025

Pay off one credit card by summer

Create a "fun fund" for that hobby you've been wanting to try

Your financial journey is exactly that, YOURS. You don't need to compare yourself to anyone else. The person on Instagram showing off their investment portfolio might still be paying off massive debt. Focus on your own path!

Your mission for today:

Look at your bank statement (I know, scary, but you can do it!)

Pick ONE money habit from this post to try this week

Set ONE specific financial goal for 2025

See you tomorrow for Day 14! Remember, every financial decision you make today is a gift to your future self.

[zigrethsnotebook]

Earworm

Ford x Reader

words: 1,946

tags: sfw, fluff, library time

a/n: todays story is brought to you by that stupid mothman song being stuck in my head again. also I refused to look up the lyrics to either song which makes this an accurate portayal of me being annoying when i have a song stuck in my head lmao. enjoy^^

The library was quiet when Ford visited it. He wanted to check whether or not the librarians had, in the 30 years he was gone, finally added some of the cryptozoology books he recommended. So far it wasn't looking very good.

At the very least, cryptozoology had not become its own category. With a sigh he walked over to the regular zoology section to take a closer look. Perhaps they'd only gotten a few and grouped them with other animals?

He looked through the shelves for a couple of minutes. Somehow he had the feeling that they simply hadn't added any of the books. Ford sighed again. He'd go ask one of the librarians, he decided.

There were only three or four other people, most likely students, at the library. Ford made sure to keep his step quiet as he looked around for the person in charge.

Ford turned around a corner and found himself in the science-fiction section. He couldn't see anyone but with it being so incredibly silent, he heard someone quietly hum and sing to themselves.

He followed the sound around another shelf of science-fiction books. With every step towards the sound the words became a little clearer.

"...The years start coming and they don't stop coming. Pack your shoes and then hit the ground running." A moment of silence as the person apparently tried to remember the lyrics, as if the ones they'd sung until now hadn't been wrong as well.

"uh... so much to do, so much to see. So much more than na na nana. You never know if you don't know. You never know if you don't try." By now Ford had turned around the final shelf to find the person he was looking for. He subconsciously rubbed the spot on his neck where the cartoon star sat.

It was the librarian. They were busy putting some returned books back onto the shelves. "Hey, now. You're an All Star. Get your game on. Get paid. Hey, now. You're a rock star. You're a-" "This is a library, you know?"

You jumped when you heard the unfamiliar voice break you out of your trance. "Oh! I'm so sorry, I didn’t notice you there." You said as you turned to face the man, one hand hovering over your chest to calm your heart rate again.

"But I noticed you. For a library you were singing surprisingly loud." The man had an amused smile on his face while you blushed a deep crimson in embarrassment. "Oh, god. I'm so sorry. Sometimes I forget that I'm singing out loud." A nervous chuckle escaped you.

The man's smile stayed on his face. "Don't worry. Nobody can hear you past the science-fiction section." He pointed behind himself and you knew that he was right. You had worked in the library long enough to know that this corner of the room was the most secluded.

"So, what can I help you with?" You put on a smile yourself, trying to shake off the embarrassment. "Right. I was just wondering. Do you have any books on cryptozoology?" You thought for a moment, the topic not sounding familiar to you.

You shook your head lightly. "I'm sorry, I don't think we do. But I can look in the system for you if you'd like." The man looked slightly defeated as he shook his head as well. "Don't worry about it. I believe you." What a strange man.

"Were you looking for something specific? Maybe I can get you the book you want." You smiled at him, kind of curious yourself what he wanted to read about. His expression lit up just a little.

"That would be great. But I made the same request about thirty years ago and there still aren't any books on the topic." Your lips curled into a soft smirk. "That may be, but I didn’t work here thirty years ago. Just leave it to me."

You led him to the computer at the info counter, leaving the stack of books in the science-fiction section for later. You stepped around, sat in front of the computer and looked up at him expectantly.

"So. What book were you hoping to read?" The man scratched at the back of his neck, an awkward chuckle leaving his lips. "I was more hoping for a few books on the subject generally. I'd like the townsfolk to be able to read up on all, or at least some, of the cryptids that they might encounter."

You furrowed your brows lightly but kept the smile as you suppressed a laugh. "And what should I look out for? Any specific cryptids you had in mind?" You tried so hard to stay professional but the man seemed so serious and his eyes lit up with so much excitement when you asked that, that you were starting to worry for him.

He pulled a red notebook out of his coat pocket and put it on the counter between you two, opening it to a seemingly random page. It showed something that resembled a platypus but was titled 'plaidypus'. You hummed in thought, unsure what to say.

"Well, some of the ones I've seen around here are the Plaidypus, Fairies, Gnomes and Manotaurs." He opened his book to a fitting page for each creature he spoke of. "But again, I'd be happy about anything on the subject. Chances are that most of the creatures live in Gravity Falls anyway."

Another, a little less awkward, chuckle left the man. You nodded, scribbling some of the names on a sticky note for later. "I'll see what I can find. I should be able to get something within about two weeks."

You looked back up at him with a smile. "But I could also just call you once we get some of them in." The man seemed a little embarrassed when he told you that he didn’t have a phone himself. "But you could call the Mystery Shack and ask for Stanford. You should be able to reach me there."

The Mystery Shack, huh? Was this some kind of marketing ploy? You tried to keep your annoyance at the thought out of your interaction. He seemed to be genuine in his request, maybe you were just overthinking this.

Also, somehow the topic had piqued your own interest. You could just get one or two books on the subject and sort them under fiction.

You wrote his instructions down on another sticky note and nodded at him. "Will do! Until then, Stanford." Your smile turned into a little smirk again. Maybe he was lying to you or whatever, but he was also super cute.

You watched the man blush a little as he said his goodbyes and turned to leave. After he had left you let out the laugh you had been holding in, careful not to be too loud about it. This was a library after all.

For the next two hours or so you searched online for books that fit into Stanford's description. Eventually, you went back to what you had originally been doing when the man had interrupted you.

Just under three weeks later you called the Mystery Shack and asked for Stanford. A very gruff voice told you that he was currently out. "Oh, well that's no problem! Just tell him that the library called, he'll know why."

"Sure thing, toots." And with that the man hung up. A little rude, but whatever. You had done your part. After the call you went back to the box of books the library had received. You didn’t need to unpack it to know that his books were in there as well.

So you went ahead and did that now. Putting all the books on the supernatural and cryptids on one pile and everything else on another, much smaller pile. The smaller pile was labeled and put away quickly.

However, you were still unsure what to do with the other ones. Somehow you had forgotten to think of a place for them before they got here. After a few minutes of just staring at the pile you remembered the tiny shelves you kept for new arrivals and such.

You quickly grabbed one of those and printed out some labels with the genre that would be on that shelf. Cryptozoology. Unbelievable that you actually went through with this.

You decided to put the tiny shelf by the bigger ones on regular zoology and then carried the stack of books over there as well. The repetitive work of labeling and sorting the books once again left you not noticing your own quiet singing. Or that the man himself entered the library.

"Believe, believe. Yes, you can! Believe in the power of the Moth-man." Ford could hear your voice before he saw you. A smile immediately formed on his lips.

"Moth-man, Moth-man, I believe in ya. Flying 'round the town of Point Pleasant, West Virginia. With your bright red eyes and gigantic wings you make me, make me, make me, make me, make me wanna sing."

You only noticed the man standing next to you when Ford laughed at your song. "Wherever did you hear that?" He managed to say between his laughter. You felt once again embarrassed that he caught you singing.

"I just stumbled across the song when I was looking up some of these books. It's really catchy." You smiled up at him. "I can tell." Ford looked over the shelf. You were sitting criss-cross in front of it with the books scattered around you.

"Sorry, I didn’t expect you here so soon." The words barely registered to Ford as the realization hit him, that you actually followed through and got the books. And you even made a special place for them without just saying that's all a lie!

"Thank you." He said as he took one of the books and flipped through it, skimming the pages. It looked like a real book that wasn't making fun of the subject.

Ford was surprised how much of an effect this simple act of taking him seriously had on him. His eyes snapped to you, wide and with wonder. "I didn’t think you'd actually get any of these."

You chuckled, waving him off lightly. "Of course, that's my job. Plus! The way you talked about these creatures got me interested in the subject." You shrugged. "I will probably be the first to read all these books. Next to you, of course."

Stanford was silent for a moment, just staring at you. Just before the silence turned awkward he blurted out a question. "Do you want to eat dinner with me?" Another beat of silence passed and Ford noticed himself how out of the blue the question was.

"I-I mean. I could tell you more about cryptids. And all the creatures that live in Gravity Falls." He stared into your eyes, a slight panic entering his voice as the words tumbled out even faster.

"Because you said you're interested in the subject and I think you're pretty and I found so many of those creatures and could tell you about them and it would be like a date, unless you don't want it to be a date, then we could still just have dinner together and-"

You laughed, interrupting his rambling. Ford's cheeks turned red as you calmed down enough to speak. "I'm sorry for laughing," you said, still chuckling, "I'd love to go on a date with you."

Ford's face lit up and he looked at you with a big smile. "Tonight at 8, then? We could meet at Greasy's Diner?" You nodded, matching his smile. "I'll be there, Stanford."