#second of all I'm not getting on anyone's case I'm just complaining

[thevegetablewhichnoonedaresname]

absolute DEARTH of dungeon meshi fanfics on ao3. in many ways but particularly gen fics that are over 2000 words and focused on adventure, magical shenanigans, fluff/angst, or some combination of those

[ktempestbradford]

I have been on a Willy Wonkified journey today and I need y'all to come with me

It started so innocently. Scrolling Google News I come across this article on Ars Technica:

At first glance I thought what happened was parents saw AI-generated images of an event their kids were at and became concerned, then realized it was fake. The reality? Oh so much better.

On Saturday, event organizers shut down a Glasgow-based "Willy's Chocolate Experience" after customers complained that the unofficial Wonka-inspired event, which took place in a sparsely decorated venue, did not match the lush AI-generated images listed on its official website.... According to Sky News, police were called to the event, and "advice was given."

Thing is, the people who paid to go were obviously not expecting exactly this:

But I can see how they'd be a bit pissed upon arriving to this:

It gets worse.

"Tempest, how could it possibly--"

source of this video that also includes this charming description:

Made up a villain called The Unknown — 'an evil chocolate maker who lives in the walls'

There is already a meme.

Oh yes, the Wish.com Oompa Loompa:

Who has already done an interview!

As bad (and hilarious) as this all is, I got curious about the company that put on this event. Did they somehow overreach? Did the actors they hired back out at the last minute? (Or after they saw the script...) Oddly enough, it doesn't seem so!

Given what I found when poking around I'm legit surprised there was an event at all. Cuz this outfit seems to be 100% a scam.

The website for this specific event is here and it has many AI generated images on it, as stated. I don't think anyone who bought tickets looked very closely at these images, otherwise they might have been concerned about how much Catgacating their children would be exposed to.

Yes, Catgacating. You know, CATgacating!

I personally don't think anyone should serve exarserdray flavored lollipops in public spaces given how many people are allergic to it. And the sweet teats might not have been age appropriate.

Though the Twilight Tunnel looks pretty cool:

I'm not sure that Dim Tight Twdrding is safe. I've also been warned that Vivue Sounds are in that weird frequency range that makes you poop your pants upon hearing them.

Yes, Virginia, these folks used an AI image generator for everything on the website and used Chat GPT for some of the text! From the FAQ:

Q: I cannot go on the available days. Will you have more dates in the future? A: Should there be capacity when you arrive, then you will be able to enter without any problems. In the event that this is not the case, we may ask you to wait a bit.

Fear not, for this question is asked again a few lines down and the answer makes more sense.

Curious about the events company behind this disaster, I took myself over to the homepage of House of Illuminati and I was not disappointed.

I would 100% trust these people to plan my wedding.

This abomination of a website is a badly edited WordPress blog filled with AI art and just enough blog posts to make the casual viewer think that it's a legit business for about 0.0004 seconds.

Their attention to detail is stunning, from how they left up the default first post every WP blog gets to how they didn't bother changing the name on several images, thus revealing where they came from. Like this one:

With the lovely and compact filename "DALL·E-2024-01-30-09.50.54-Imagine-a-scene-where-fantasy-and-reality-merge-seamlessly.-In-the-foreground-a-grand-interactive-gala-is-taking-place-filled-with-elegant-guests-i.png"

"Concept.png" came from the same AI generator that gets text almost, but not quiiiiiite right:

There are a suspicious number of .webp images in the uploads, which makes me think they either stole them from other sites where AI "art" was uploaded or they didn't want to pay for the hi-res versions of some and just grabbed the preview image.

The real fun came when I noticed this filename: Before-and-After-Eventologists-Transformation-Edgbaston-Cricket-Ground-1024x1024-1.jpg and decided to do a Google image search. Friends, you will be shocked to hear that the image in question, found on this post touting how they can transform a boring warehouse into a fun event space, was stolen from this actual event planner.

Even better, this weirdly grainy image?

From a post that claims to be about the preparations for a "Willy Wonka" experience (we'll get to this in a minute), is not only NOT an actual image of anyone preparing anything for Illuminati's event, it is stolen from a YouTube thumbnail that's been chopped to remove the name of the company that actually made this. Here's the video.

If you actually read the blog posts they're all copypasta or some AI generated crap. To the point where this seems like not a real business at all. There's very specific business information at the bottom, but nothing else seems real.

As I said, I'm kinda surprised they put on an event at all. This has, "And then they ran off with all our money!" written all over it. I'm perplexed.

And also wondering when the copyright lawyers are gonna start calling, because...

This post explicitly says they're putting together a "Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory Experience" complete with golden tickets.

Somewhere along the line someone must have wised up, because the actual event was called "Willys Chocolate Experience" (note the lack of apostrophe) and the script they handed to the actors about 10 minutes before they were supposed to "perform" was about a "Willy McDuff" and his chocolate factory.

As I was going through this madness with friends in a chat, one pointed out that it took very little prompting to get the free Chat GPT to spit out an event description and such very similar to all this while avoiding copyrighted phrases. But he couldn't figure out where the McDuff came from since it wasn't the type of thing GPT would usually spit out...

Until he altered the prompt to include it would be happening in Glasgow, Scotland.

You cannot make this stuff up.

But truly, honestly, I do not even understand why they didn't take the money and run. Clearly this was all set up to be a scam. A lazy, AI generated scam.

Everything from the website to the event images to the copy to the "script" to the names of things was either stolen or AI generated (aka stolen). Hell, I'd be looking for some poor Japanese visitor wandering the streets of Glasgow, confused, after being jacked for his mascot costume.

HE LIVES IN THE WALLS, Y'ALL.

[dreamsteddie]

There is an AITA out there that I can't find but it's been haunting me for weeks with visions of semi-angsty Steddie that I need to release onto the world. (If anyone happens to know what I'm talking about hit me up and I'll link it)

Edit: @jazzathebunny found the original AITA from Reddit linked Here for anyone who wants to read it. I'm definitely not doing exactly the same premise but this was my jumping off point 😊

Part Two! ------

Modern AU, Eddie and the guys are a moderately successful local band in the Chicago area playing gigs on the weekends and doing small tours whenever they all have the time. Gareth and Jeff are both in college while Eddie and Freak are both working part-time at a game store. Eddie managed to lock down that assistant manager position that lets him work 30 hours a week with weekends off for gigs. All in all, it's a pretty sweet deal and they can't complain.

Eddie had sworn off dating after a small handful of disastrous relationship attempts in their first year in the city. He dismisses any advances from people who attend their shows and tries not to think about how much he wants to make a genuine connection with someone and have something real. He's been burned one too many times to try and make something with someone he met in a bar or at work.

He knows the guys talk about it behind his back sometimes, he catches Jeff and Gareth fervently whispering to each other and stopping when they catch him entering the room one time too many to not suspect they're talking about him and he can't think of anything else going on in his life that they would feel the need to whisper about.

The fervent conversations take a slight uptick one day and about a week and a half after they do, Gareth hits him up and tells him he wants to set Eddie up with a guy from one of his classes. At first, Eddie is skeptical and cites all the reasons why he doesn't want to try with anyone right now but eventually, Jeff jumps in to plea the case and Freak jumps in on top of that and under the combined weight of his best friends he agrees to meet up with this Steve guy.

The guys set up the whole thing and before Eddie knows it it's Saturday night and he's wearing his best black jeans and a gray button-down, untucked, to go on an honest to God blind date like his life is some low-budget romcom.

Steve is not at all what Eddie thought he would be. Not the kind of guy he thought his friends would pick out for him given they know he usually goes for other alternatives like himself. Steve, who is shyly waving him over and getting out of his seat to great him, is the very epitome of prep. Well-fitted polo, light blue chinos, and what Eddie assumes this guy thinks are casual loafers. He's handsome to be sure, a 12/10 at least with perfect hair and defined biceps but Eddie is fairly sure he's being punked.

But, Eddie doesn't want to be rude so he goes to meet Steve at the table, confirming just in case that he's actually here to meet with a guy named Eddie. Steve gives him a bit of a confused look, saying that Gareth showed him a couple pictures of Eddie before he agreed to meet and figured he'd done the same for Eddie off Steve's Instagram. Gareth had, in fact, not done anything of the sort but they both dismiss it and get on with their date.

In all honesty, Eddie is expecting it to be a complete wash, but it turns out that even if Steve is not at all what Eddie would have previously said what his type, Steve is damn near perfect. He's funny, kind, a little bitchy, and even though he proves himself to be every bit the sports nerd he looks like he doesn't turn his nose up at Eddie's own much more classically nerdy interests. By the end of the date, Eddie has a new type and that type is Steve Harrington. He's quick to lock down a second date for the next weekend which Steve happily agrees to. They exchange numbers and Steve gives Eddie a chaste kiss on the cheek that has him floating all the way home.

Steve texted him that next morning letting him now he had a great time and is really looking forward to their next date and Eddie thinks this might be the start of something big for him. When he gets to practice he's clearly still floating on cloud nine and in his own little world designing their marriage invitations and matching tombstones so he doesn't notice the sly grins on his bandmates' faces.

"So...how'd it go last night? Everything you dreamed it would be?" Gareth asks, a strange glint in his eyes that Eddie doesn't clock.

Eddie goes on and on about how nice Steve was and how he might be The One, thanking Gareth profusely. Freak looks pleased for him, giving him a hard pat on the shoulder in congratulations but when Eddie finally tunes back into the real world he's greeted by Gareth's livid expression and Jeff's overly concerned one.

He asks the guys what the fuck is up and it turns out that Gareth and Jeff set this whole thing up as a prank of sorts. Eddie was never supposed to hit it off with Steve who Gareth selected specifically because he's a "totally brain-dead prep" and as far away as someone could get from Eddie's previous relationships. He was supposed to be someone Eddie could go on a date with and not form a connection with without getting completely burned at the end like all his previous relationships in the hopes of getting him out of his slump.

Jeff was in on it as well. He wanted to get Eddie back out there, so when Gareth presented the plan he sat in on a couple of Gareth's general credit business class sessions to help pick the guy out.

After Jeff and Gareth finish explaining he does a complete 180 and just...leaves. In any other situation, he would be raging and verbally tearing his friends a new asshole but instead, he completely disengages and walks out the garage door, ignoring his friends' shouts to come back.

He goes back home, socked and hurt and so very confused about how the hell he found himself in this position when his phone lights up.

New Message: Steve H.

Fuck.

-------

Part two coming soon??? Maybe???? We'll see.

[anniebeemine]

laid- s.r. x fem!reader

this bed is on fire with passionate love/the neighbors complain about the noises above

warnings: minors dni, unprotected sex, slight voyeurism, Spencer being a bad neighbor

Based on Laid by James (I'm currently working on the eyeliner part)

Spencer's apartment is usually quiet. He's been an exemplary neighbor for the most part. But tonight, it was anything but.

The bed in his bedroom creaked rhythmically, the sounds of passionate love echoing through the thin walls. Spencer was lost in the moment, his usually methodical mind overtaken by the sheer intensity of his emotions. You can feel his fingers digging into your hips, pulling you back down onto him with such force that you can feel him hitting every part of you.

"Spence," you pant, forearms crossed over your head as you bounce on him.

He moans your name back. "Stop talking."

You laugh. "Okay."

Your relationship with Spencer was never what anyone would call ordinary. From the outside, you were both composed, thoughtful, and serious about your work. You lived and breathed the intricacies of your cases, and to most of the world, that’s all they ever saw. But behind closed doors, it was a different story altogether. The nights you spent together were like a whirlwind, unpredictable and consuming. The first time it happened, it was completely unexpected, a moment of raw emotion and undeniable chemistry that neither of you could resist. One second you were discussing a case, the next you were tearing each other’s clothes off, lost in the heat of the moment.

It was chaotic, intense, and completely exhilarating. Just like tonight.

You had both flown back on the jet, sitting on opposite ends as to not raise suspicion. What the rest of the team didn't know, was that neither of you were really trying to get ahead on paperwork, but you were both waiting until they left so they wouldn't see you two leave together.

Spencer had always seemed so controlled, so measured in everything he did. But when you were together like this, it was like something inside him snapped, and all that control went out the window. He was passionate, wild, and unafraid to take what he wanted. And you? You were right there with him, matching his intensity, letting yourself get swept away by the storm that was Spencer Reid.

He hadn’t planned for this, hadn’t anticipated that this night would turn into something so fervent, so utterly consuming. But here he was, tangled in the sheets with you, his body pressed against yours, moving together in a dance that neither of you wanted to end. The intensity between you was undeniable, a chemistry that had been building for months, perhaps even years. Sometimes he would apologize for the soaked sheets and sore muscles, his voice breathless and a bit sheepish as he surveyed the wreckage of your clothes strewn across the room, the sheets tangled and twisted around you both. You’d laugh, a sound full of satisfaction and lingering desire, and pull him back down to you.

The mess didn’t matter, not when the moments leading up to it were so electric. Tonight's mess is similar to those nights. Your shoes are left at the door, jacket on the floor. You can see your underwear hung on the door handle. You can feel the slick mess between your bodies, aiding your movements. You let your hands fall, holding your chest as you slow down. He lets out a whimper, stopping himself from bucking into you.

"Need a break?" He teased.

You nodded, reaching for the water bottle you left a few days ago. You let your body fall over his, taking in his scent as your sweat-slick bodies came to a halt. You take a long drink from the bottle. Spencer hummed, opening his mouth. You poured some, watching him swallow it down. You pressed a kiss to his lips, tossing the now empty bottle onto the floor.

It wasn’t just the physical connection, though that was certainly a huge part of it. It was the way you two connected on a deeper level, understanding each other in ways no one else did. Spencer had always been the kind of man who paid attention to details, who noticed the little things. And in bed, that attention to detail took on a whole new meaning. He knew exactly what to do to drive you wild, the precise way to touch you, the perfect words to whisper in your ear to push you over the edge. It was like he had studied you, memorized every reaction, and used that knowledge to make you come undone in the best possible way.

You begin to smile against his chest, rolling your hips gently. He hissed at the movement, his eyes rolling back in his head.

But it wasn’t just about the passion and the heat, though there was plenty of that. It was also about the laughter, the way you’d collapse into each other afterward, breathless and giddy, high on the adrenaline and the sheer joy of being with someone who got you in every way. The nights were wild, sure, but they were also filled with so much fun, so much genuine enjoyment of each other.

“Don’t think I’ve ever laughed this much in bed,” you’d tease him, your words punctuated by giggles as you sprawled out next to him, limbs tangled together.

“Glad I can be of service,” he’d reply, a smirk tugging at his lips, his fingers lazily tracing patterns on your skin.

The unpredictability of your relationship was what made it so exciting. You never knew where things were going to go, how one innocent touch or look could escalate into something much more. It was thrilling, addicting even, and you couldn’t get enough of it. Some nights, it was slow and tender, a gentle exploration of each other’s bodies that left you both breathless in a different way. Other nights, it was frantic, desperate, as if you couldn’t get close enough fast enough. And every time, no matter how it started or how it ended, it left you both completely and utterly satisfied. But it wasn’t just about the sex, wild as it was.

The world outside might see you and Spencer as serious, composed individuals, but behind closed doors, you were anything but. And that was just the way you liked it. Because in those moments, when it was just the two of you, nothing else mattered. Not the cases, not the stress, not the outside world. It was just you and Spencer, lost in each other, living for the thrill of the moment, and loving every second of it.

Spencer helps you lean up. Your arms are shaky on either side of his head as you smile, pressing a kiss to his nose. You roll your hips again, the tip of his cock catching your most sensitive part in a way that makes you yelp. You pick up pace, aided by Spencer's strong hands on your ass, guiding you in little circles.

Spencer’s lips found yours in a heated kiss, his thoughts scattered, reduced to nothing more than a primal need to be closer to you, to keep this moment alive for as long as possible. The usual worries that plagued his mind were gone, replaced by a singular focus on you, on this connection that felt like it could consume him whole.

The bed groaned under the weight of your combined movements, the headboard thudding rhythmically against the wall. The sounds grew louder, more urgent, but the noise wasn’t just coming from you. The passion was almost palpable, as if the very room had come alive with the energy you were generating.

The neighbors in the apartment next door had started complaining, their irritated voices barely audible over the sounds coming from Spencer’s room. But he couldn’t bring himself to care. He was too far gone, too wrapped up in the feel of your skin against his, the way your fingers dug into his back as you pulled him closer, urging him on.

He held you down to his chest, arms wrapping around your waist as he took control. You were screaming into his ear. You turned, reaching for a pillow before he loosed his grip.

"I want them to know how much I love you," he breathed.

His words sent you over the edge, vocal cords burning as you cried your way through your orgasm. He stilled, groaning loudly into your ear as he finished, filling you to the brim. The bed, once a symphony of creaks and groans, fell silent as you both lay there, spent and breathless. The fire that had consumed you slowly ebbed, leaving behind a warmth that settled deep in your bones. Spencer held you close, his breathing finally starting to steady as the reality of the night began to sink in. He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, his mind still reeling from the experience

Spencer laughed, letting his fingernails lightly drag over the skin on your back. "I don't think they like us."

You didn't move, only running a hand through his hair idly as you came down. "When do you think you'll get an official noise complaint?"

They didn’t know what went on in your apartment, but they had seen (and heard) enough to know that they didn’t want to get involved. And you and Spencer, wrapped up in your own little world, didn’t mind one bit.

Because for all the stares, all the whispered rumors, all the avoidance, there was something exhilarating about knowing that what you had was yours and yours alone. It was intense, it was wild, and it was real in a way that few people could understand. And as you glanced at Spencer, you knew that you wouldn’t trade it for anything. Because in this world, in this life, he was yours, and you were his, and that was all that mattered.

[reiderwriter]

hii!! can you do 49 and 68 please??? i love ur writing so much btw

prompts: #49 - "I'm so fucking obsessed with you." #68 - "Sit on my face."

A/N: Thank you for much for requesting! Munch Spencer for the win once again! Not to sound like a broken record, but I think I'm physically incapable of writing a smut that I dont somehow become obsessive over 🫡 I hope you like it!!

Warnings: possessive Spencer, oral sex (f receiving), multiple orgasms, alight come play, penetrative sex, creampie, just some very obsessive writing ngl. 18+ MINORS DNI (that means do not interact for those of you who still don't understand!!)

You weren't sure if you were going to give into him.

You know it'd taken a lot of courage for the man to ask you out, you'd seen first hand that he threw himself head first into relationships, and that meant he was entirely careful about kindling them.

But you'd been so shocked by Spencer Reid's admission that he was romantically interested in you that you'd all but gaped at him the entire time he stood there talking you through it.

After he'd finished, you still didn't know what to say, you just knew that your entire body was aflame with the words he'd dropped in the space between you, and you were vaguely aware that your phone had clattered to the floor, forgotten.

“Y/N, what do you say? Will you let me take you on a date? Please?”

He stood fidgeting in front of you and you almost apologised but your tongue still wouldn't move accurately.

You swallowed, and calmed your heart from the tempest it was running through in your chest to answer him.

“I need some time to think. We work together, it's going to be complicated and I want to make sure I think this through.” He'd politely agreed to that and seen himself out of your apartment, having appeared on your doorstep at near midnight on a work night.

And two weeks later, you were no closer to your answer.

But Spencer seemed to have grown bolder in his advances. He seemed to have taken your entire plight of never realising he was into you to heart, though. Because you sure as hell knew where he stood now.

He used every excuse to put his hands on you.

He came up behind you, putting his hands on your waist as he slid past you, moving you this way and that to arrive at his intended destination.

You'd found that a most annoying male trait in the past, but when Spencer attempted it, you practically leaned into his heat, shivering each time his hands brushed you.

He'd taken to brushing your hair out of your eyes as well, tucking it behind your ear in front of others, and, embarrassingly enough, tying it up for you with one of his own hair elastics.

You'd frozen in the moment as you leaned down to examine some footprints on a case, complaining your hair was in your face as he immediately came up behind you and began gently pulling it up himself.

His fingers moved skillfully, and felt soothing on your scalp as he made sure to get every hair.

You couldn't even say a word of thanks as you sat there wondering what the fuck had just happened, and if anyone else had been witness to it.

Luckily, no one had, and you could only contemplate it alone.

And contemplate it you did. In bed. In the shower. In your sleep. You couldn't stop contemplating it.

You couldn't seem to step over the boundary of professional working relationship to more, though.

So you weren't exactly surprised when he showed back up on your doorstep a month later.

“Spencer. Did something happen?” you breathed a slow sigh as you opened the door to see him standing there, still and tense, as if he was ready to spring an attack at any second.

“I'm obsessed with you.” His voice was low as he took a slow step forward, letting his gaze rest on your lips, and not moving it as he continued his path forward.

“I'm obsessed with you and I've tried to show you that for the last month, and god, please you have to please release me from this if you can't accept it.” He took another step closer and then he was in your apartment and closing the door behind him, blocking out the cold that had your nipples hardening. You assumed it was the cold.

“I think about how you would taste daily, how you would smell, how you would feel wrapped around me, the sounds you would make. I think about any other man getting close to you and I feel angry and sad and my chest physically aches.”

“I think about how I could make you happy, how you'd smile at me every morning,” his hand hesitantly reached up to tuck another stray hair behind your ear as he stuttered through yet another confession.

He was close now, so close your back was pressed against a wall as you resisted your chest meeting his.

“I will leave and never mention this or touch you again if you can't take that on, but if even one part of you thinks this is an experience you want…”

You finally looked into his eyes as your fingertips rushed forward to touch him, darting out to feel his chest and press yourself further into his warmth.

The physical confirmation must have been enough, as in moments his lips were dropping to meet your own in a sweet, but still strong kiss.

He moved achingly slowly as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you further in to his atmosphere, taking each small caress as an indulgence, each run of your lips across his as a blessing coated in lust.

He went so luxuriously slow, that you had to be the one to pull him in closer, to give into the passion threatening to throttle you from inside out.

You tugged him back through your apartment to your bed, making sure to rid him of his coat as you went, lips still exploring each other as you did. His hands held you firmly, wrapping you up in a strong embrace even as you needed him to move faster, to touch, caress, tease, and pleasure you.

You pushed him away when your back hit another wall, only so you could get some air between you as you waited for the next logical step in the direction you were headed.

“Spencer, I want you to make love to me.” You always hated that phrase, feeling it was so cheesy and overly sentimental, and yet that was the only way you could describe what you wanted from him.

He looked at you and suddenly, it was as if a flip had switched inside him. His slow, discovering kisses became bruising and hot as he marked his way down your neck, eager to please and desperate to know all of you. Your body was another book Spencer needed to read, more knowledge for him to acquire and never forget, never let go of.

Gently raising you off the ground, he pinned you against the wall, as you wrapped your legs around his waist, feeling his notable arousal through his clothes. He began divesting you of yours, the casual t-shirt you'd slipped into after work being easy work for his hands, sweatpants following suit as he memorised every inch of flesh visible to him.

With two hands firmly cradling your ass, he made his way into your bedroom, and sat on the edge of the bed, you in hand. Your core rubbed over his cock, and a deep dissatisfaction crept up your body. You were empty and you wanted so badly for him to fill you.

Your need became a great force clawing at his clothes, rocking your hips into him needing as you scrambled button after button, wishing your hands would obey your mind.

He groaned under you, the sound catching you off-guard and flooding your panties even more. He caught your hips and steadied your pace as you worked yourself up to a high without ever having fully touched him.

“Y/N…” He breathed it out like a prayer and a curse combined, pushing your hips down tighter as he tried to put an end to your elicit movements.

“Y/N stop, I want…” His lips finally left your neck as he took a deep breath, opening his eyes to look directly into yours.

“Sit on my face.” It was a demand, one that wouldn't be ignored, and honestly, you weren't sure you wanted to ignore it.

He laid himself down more comfortably on the bed, pulling you down with him as he stroked small circles into your lower back.

His hands worked down until they reached the waistband of your panties, hooked a finger under them and slowly dragged them off your ass, forcing your hips up to get them further away from his prize.

“Please, Y/N. Please sit on my face.” You moaned at the request again, dropping one final messy kiss to his lips before climbing up and over his head.

You completed the job he started with your underwear, deciding to go the extra mile and discard your bra as well. He wrapped his hands around your thighs and shifted your cunt to better suit his own position, and you braced yourself as he pulled you closer to his devilish tongue.

The first swipe of it was so foreign that you almost bolted upright like a cat dropped into a bathtub. But he held you fast and pulled you right back down as he began his meal. He'd said his prayers, and now he was ready to indulge himself in the taste he'd been craving for the last month.

You braced your hands on the metal headboard of your bed, thankful that you lived alone as you knew there was no way of muffling the noises that were beginning to toll off your tongue.

Head thrown back in pleasure, it was all you could do to not beg him to never stop, to keep up your pleausure for eternity, even as he left himself unsatisfied and rock hard.

Everytike you pulled slightly back from the stimulation, he pulled you even further in, until you were sure he couldn't breath, his mouth and nose so lost in your heat and so intent on your pleasure.

You almost forgot it was his face below you, and started desperately riding him, grinding your clit into anything that would allow for some friction.

Every few minutes he came up for a larger breath, letting his fingers slip inside you as he explored your every reaction.

There was only so much you could take, and apparently tongue and fingers was just that step too far, as you let your body convulse over him.

He let you ride it out, drinking in every drop of juice that escaped you, finally getting that taste he'd become so obsessed with discovering.

When you finally pulled away, his lips and chin were slick with your arousal, and his face was awash with desire.

A tiny push had you on your back as he crawled up between your legs again, taking the time to unclassified his pants and pull them off, discarding them along eith the shirt you'd so painstakingly unbuttoned for him.

“I am going to make love to you, Y/N, and you are going to be mine. You'll always be mine.” His forehead rested against your own as he finally slid inside of you, sheathing his whole cock inside of you as it expanded with his intrusion, trying to find room for him.

He fit like a glove, provided the glove felt this fucking good, so warm and comforting to know he was filling you completely.

His thrusts began and you were almost overwhelmed by the sheer arousal he inspired in each heartbeat.

Wanton moans left your mouth as words failed you, tongue lolling about as you desperately wished he'd slip his head down to let you taste yourself on him.

“I love you so much, Y/N,” he said, tightening his grip on your hips so much you were sure his nails were going to leave tiny crescents carved into your very bones.

Your second orgasm snuck up on you, hips suddenly jolting up as if they'd a mind of their own, milking his cock as he whimpered at the sudden tightness.

“Y/N, I love you. I love you, I love you I love you so much,” the words were overwhelming as you struggled to speak through the after shocks of your climax, legs still twitching even as he spilled his seed inside of you.

“Now you're mine,” he whispered into your ear as he again found a stray lock of your hair and tugged it right back behind your ear, as if it would help you to see him that much clearer.

Your vision was already so filled with him though, that you were sure it would not matter how far he was or how obstructed your view, he would be the only thing you saw for the rest of your life.

Maybe you were a little obsessed with him as well.

[bucketofpaint]

1 2 3 master post

The baby justice, or whoever they were, were starting to get on Danny's nerves. Well, basically, everything did that currently, but not as much they did.

Don't get him wrong. He understood what it was like to be a teen hero, and he respected them for it. But it didn't stop him from immediately groaning when he ran into bird boy and arrow girl.

It started out a pretty okay day. He got a passing score on a test, and it had been a slow work, which meant he'd could go home early. He had got to his trashy apartment and immediately passed out. although Danny wished that he'd could sleep till next week, a few extra hours were still much appreciated.

But fate had other plans. Danny had woken up late at night in a cold sweat, flashs of green and loud yelling, repeating in his head over and over. Danny got up and made his way to the window. He needed to get some air and to clear his head.

_____________

" I'm tired of just sitting here." Artemis complained, fiddling with one of her arrows absencemimdly.

" we need to be ready for anyone that leaves the building." Robin snapped back, not taking his eyes off of the building below.

Artemis already knew this, of course, but it didn't change the fact that she would rather be in the building, actually fighting instead of just waiting.

Her and Robin were stationed on the adjacent building to the one that was the base for a human trafficking scheme. The reason for them being outside and not inside with the others was because, apparently, the top people of this scheme were known flight risks.

____________

Danny drifted through the night sky, trying not to remember his nightmare. Trying and failing. He couldn't help it. The images just kept popping up in his head. mostly ones of his parents' faces filled with disgust, rage, and just pure hatred,while they tried to blast him to bits.

Danny gets pulled out of his head by the sound of a whisper argument taking place on the rooftop below. Danny looks down and is immediately regretting going outside. The two people arguing were members from Young Justice because, of course, they were. If Danny didn't know any better, these run-ins were starting to seem like no coincidence. He definitely wouldn't put it past CW.

If Danny remembered right, the two people were Robin and Artemis. It looked like the two were on a stake out or something. They kept bickering back and forth, seemingly unaware of the goon that started to creep up behind them. Danny watched and prepared himself in the case he needed to step in.

When the goon was about a foot behind them, Robin swung around and swiftly knocked the guy out. But as soon as he did, multiple men started popping up. Some jumped from the next roof, others climbing up the sides.

Robin and Artemis seemed to have it handled. Things quickly went down after the goons pulled out wepons that shot similar green blasts that left smoldering spots.

It wasn't long before the duo was surrounded, hands up in surrender.

One of the men walked towards them, reaching out to grab them. That's when Danny stepped in, keeping his invisibility and, sucker punching the dude out cold.

All the goons charged at the two, who at the moment were frozen, both looking around in confusion before joining in the fight.

Danny was exhausted by the time the last guy was knocked out. Which was not saying a lot because he had been exhausted for weeks, but now, even more so. Danny looked over to Robin and Artemis, noticing how they were both tense and staring right at him. He looked down...

Opps... Apparently, he had dropped his invisibility during some point in the fight. Well, there's not much to do about it now.

___________

Robin stared at the teen, who stared back with a pair of neon green eyes. The teen looked down for a few seconds, then looked back at them and shrugged.

"Cuffs?" The mysterious meta asked

"Um...what?" Robin asked completely confused.

The meta huffed and gestured to the unconscious people.

"Catch." Artemis said, walking past him and tossing the meta some rope. " Just tie their feet and hands for now." The boy nodded.

After all the men had been tied up, the three stood in silence, looking back and forth at each other.

Robin cleared his throat. "So, who -" the meta cut him off with a scoff.

Robin tried again.

" I'm Robin, and you are." Robin asked, keeping his body language friendly.

"Nun-ya." The boy replied. Hmm, it was a unique name. Maybe he wasn't a meta, but an ailen. "Business." The boy finished before fading away.

Robin stood there in disbelief, looking in the area the boy used to be, as Artemis laughed behind him.

[steviebbboi]

Once Upon A Friendship

Pairing: Childhood Bestie!Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Word Count: 8.6k~ guys i obviously have a problem, my fics just keep getting longer and longer and idk how to stop

Rating: Teens and up!

Disclaimer: Well, well, here we are~ submitting this lil ficlet for @witchywithwhiskey's Slasher Summer Writing Challenge using the following prompts: carnival/county fair + forced proximity + "You think that's blood?". & Because I also wanted to engage with our writers community even more cuz <3, -- I'm also submitting this to @the-slumberparty Sundae Bar challenge: Chocolate (secrets will be REVEALED), butter scotch (childhood friends and the feelz is real 🥹), french vanilla (cause forced proximity trope was inevitable for our reader), w/ toppings of chocolate syrup (established relationship), graham crackers (flashback-backstory heavy), and toasted almonds (🫣get ready for some angst).

Summary: Growing up together, you and Steve were inseparable. Where did it all go wrong?

***I don't give any permission for this to be reposted anywhere! Pls do not steal work, plagiarism isn't cuteeee~~~~

Warnings/Triggers: Minors just be mindful that this has mentions of teenage sexual activity but not explicit (all age appropriate) but adding my warning below just in case, explicit language in few pieces of dialogue, ANGST with a happy ending, childhood besties to enemies/strangers, bucky, wanda, and nat are your besties too, steve is a shit communicator, both steve and reader are young and a bit naive, cheesiness ensues, fluff, work is not beta'd so any grammar mistake is my bad!!

*Any comments/reblogs are much appreciated and are so encouraging - more than you know. Pls don't hesitate to interact with me <3

“Argh, Wanda, no– I told you, I hate these things!” You whined despondently while grabbing at her arm.

“Look, you only have to go straight in and see it all the way through! It’s not like there’s any detours.” Wanda replied while giving you a deadpan look. 

You returned the look with your own mocking face, “Wan, you know that isn’t the reason why I hate these things! They grab at you and try to scare you.” You shivered at the thought of one of the maze actors dragging you away somewhere where you couldn’t be found.

“Well…that is their job, y’know?” Wanda said, holding her chin in mock thought. You scoffed and shoved her playfully while she giggled at you. 

“Plus, it’s so hot out! It’s probably so stuffy in there, especially if we go in with a random group.” You complained while attempting to fan yourself while holding your hair up off your neck. This summer was brutal, you couldn’t believe that anyone would be at the carnival fair today. But alas, everyone seems to want to enjoy the last throes of summer. 

“We won’t go in with a random group - Nat said that they’re going to meet up with us before we go in.” Wanda said distractedly while taking out her phone, assuming that she was going to be checking in with Natasha.

Your brain took a second to process what she just said before you froze, your mouth agape, “Wait, ‘th-they’re’? Don’t tell me…”

Wanda stood ramrod still as if lightning just struck. The finger that was twirling her own hair froze its mindless motions as she stared at her phone unblinkingly as she realized her mistake. 

“Argh, Wanda!” You hissed out and covered your face with both of your hands in genuine despair.

Wanda held a guilt-ridden expression, “Oh no, I’m so sorry, chip – I completely forgot that he would be coming-- honest!” 

You released a heavy sigh and closed your eyes to mentally prepare yourself for dealing with the person that you despised the most in this world.

Steve Rogers. The bane of your existence. 

Well, not really (-ish).

He also happened to be a guy that you have been crushing on since you were 10 years old.

Did he know this? No. But even if he did, you would be the last person on Earth that he would pick. How do you know this, do you ask?

You and Steve knew each other since you were basically in diapers. Alongside Bucky and Nat, the four of you grew up together. Although, that didn’t stop you from drawing the short end of the stick when dealing with your pre-pubescent teen years. 

You were a late bloomer– while Nat developed boobs and became a natural flirt at 13 years of age, you were still dealing with the bullies at 13 years old whilst trying to navigate hormones, underdeveloped boobs and pre-teen acne. Bucky quickly developed a barely there mustache and a smirk that made all of the other girls swoon (though, you were convinced that it was really just for Natasha instead). And Steve…well, Steve was like you. Underdeveloped, skinny, no hair to be found on his face. He was as tall as you, and dealt with the bullies way worse off than you ever had to do. 

But that didn’t stop you from falling in love with Steve Rogers. 

Steve was one of your best friends. He always looked after you, whether it were mean girls coming to pick on you again or making sure that you got lunch together. You walked home together, stayed at each other’s houses to study or play video games. You developed a routine where one day in a week, you would order a chocolate chip milkshake while he got a vanilla whip at your local diner, and stayed there for hours just talking about your common interests together. Steve gave you your nickname, ‘chip,’ since he constantly made fun of the fact that you got the same milkshake everytime.

You also remember when the both of you decided to be each other’s first kiss. It was awkward and weirdly coordinated, but it was nice and you trusted each other. You both laughed afterwards and hugged, swearing to each other your friendship was still intact. When your parents would make playful jokes or tease you about when you and Steve were going to be a couple, you blushed and would shy away. 

Where Steve was, you were there too. 

You were basically inseparable as you both knew that you two were the underdogs of the group. Bucky and Nat quickly became the ‘It’ power couple as you all entered into highschool. Steve and you were the glue to your little gang and it just felt so nice to not be alone.

Thankfully, you were able to grow more into yourself by the time that you were 16 years old. Your skin cleared up a bit as you learned to develop a skin care routine, and your boobs started to actually look like there were two of them. Though, you never could quite get past the social isolations (despite the fact that your two best friends were the hottest and the most popular kids at school). 

And while you changed a little bit, Steve…well– Steve changed alot. It was like one day he just woke up and became the guy that he was always meant to be. He started developing a build and grew a beard, had a huge growth spurt and joined the football team. He became strong and capable of anything. But, he was still Steve. He continued fighting for the ‘little guy’ even though he became on par with Bucky and Nat’s social class at school. 

Unfortunately, with Steve’s new social status came the one thing that you couldn’t compete with: Sharon Carter. 

Captain of the cheerleading team, it was almost natural for Steve and her to become a couple. You remembered the day that Steve and you hung out after school for your regular milkshake when he told you quietly that Sharon asked him out to the junior year annual dance. He blushed beautifully as he told his best friend the news, and you made sure to plaster on a fake smile and told him that you were happy for him.

After he took you home, you did your homework, took a shower– and as you got into bed, you cried yourself to sleep feeling utterly alone for the first time in your life. 

Things changed after that. Steve couldn’t walk you home because he was walking Sharon home. He couldn’t play video games with you at yours because he was at Sharon’s. Then, he started canceling your daily milkshake hang outs. 

“I’m sorry, Chip- I have practice to get to.” 

“Sharon mentioned that she needed my help today. I’ll see you next week.”

But next week came and went, and still no Steve.

You quickly realized that Steve was blowing you off when you caught him making out with Sharon at the library in school when he told you the day before that he was going to be at football practice. 

You didn’t mean to catch him at all - but you heard noises and glanced over to see him and Sharon behind the well-known ‘hook up’ section of the library. You squeaked in surprise since they were only half clothed, Steve with his shirt off and Sharon in only her bra. As you stood there shocked, you caught Steve’s widened eyes as they both turned to look at you. Sharon was pretty annoyed that you interrupted them (clocking her narrowed glare), but Steve at least had the decency to look embarrassed as they both put their clothes back on. 

The shock of catching him in the act wasn’t as surprising (as much as it broke your heart, you knew that people in relationships would typically take it to that level fairly quickly). What was surprising was Steve’s reaction. You thought that maybe he would apologize for lying to you, or for blowing you off as many times as he did. But instead, he cleared his throat and his eyes became more stern as he didn’t say a word. He took Sharon’s hand in his and left. 

You remembered standing there for another 5 minutes until you saw another couple glare at you as they took Steve and Sharon’s space. You didn’t even get what you came for– you walked straight home, crying, despondent over losing your best friend. (It was the movie scene where the side character gets discarded and cries silently in the rain - you felt so pathetic).

From that point forward, you didn’t bother texting Steve anymore. And he didn’t ever attempt to text you. He ignored you in the hallways and you didn’t ever look up at him when you would pass each other either. 

Throughout all this, Nat and Bucky were there for you when you came to them about what happened and your waning friendship with Steve. Nat was pissed while Bucky looked confused as to how your friendship could change so quickly. Even though they were still close with Steve too, Nat and Bucky made sure to include you more during their hangouts or offer to take you home, which you felt grateful for, but it didn’t change the fact they had each other. And that you were still alone. 

College was your wake up call to move on from Steve Rogers. You applied to universities that were all out of state, intentionally left your decision last minute so that no one could talk you out of it. Your parents didn’t approve but ultimately respected your decision. 

You remembered graduation where all of your parents made you take a group photo on the bleachers. Nat and Bucky were on the higher step as you and Steve took the lower one. It was awkward as you two barely looked at each other, and fumbled on where to place your hands. It was Bucky who eventually groaned exasperatedly and placed your hand on Steve’s back while he placed his around your waist. 

You recall the moment that really ended things between you and Steve, which was a party at one of Bucky's friends’ places. Nat and Bucky invited you to come in order to have your ‘last high school experience’ (whatever that meant). Unbeknownst to them, you were leaving the next day for settling in your new university halfway across the world. 

The party was blasting obnoxious EDM and the house was littered with red solo cups and other kids yelling at each other as they played beer pong. Feeling so displaced, you took a beer and headed upstairs to look for an empty room. 

Just your luck, you would enter the one that had Sharon (again, half-naked) on top of Steve (who was again, also shirtless) on the bed. You obviously interrupted them in the middle of something again. As they both turned to look at you, Sharon groaned your name in annoyance with an ‘ugh, seriously?!” and for you to ‘‘get out.’’ You couldn’t help but ignore her as you looked at Steve once more. 

He had this same look of annoyance in his eyes as he sat up on the bed that was so unfamiliar. You’ve never seen Steve look at you like that before– as if you were a nuisance or some sort of insignificant thing. It was the same look that he gave you at the library. He became the bully that he used to protect you from when you were kids. 

Something took over you in that moment where you felt your already fragile heart just shatter into several pieces. Though, somehow, all traces of self-pity and loneliness left your body as you coldly looked over at this stranger that you realized you maybe never really knew in the first place. In that moment, you tuned out Sharon’s nasty words, and only looked at Steve with an intentional, apathetic glint in your eyes. 

The words just slipped out before you could even process them:

“I wish that I had never met you.” 

You could mutedly hear Sharon scoff and give some sort of insult (you couldn’t really remember honestly) since the only thing that you waited for, and wanted to notice, was Steve’s reaction. You watched as the traces of annoyance in his eyes glazed out and changed into something that looked akin to shock, panic and something else that you couldn’t place. 

Satisfied with finally being able to impact him for once, and to let him know how much you hated him in that moment, you turned to leave determinedly– you were pretty sure that you heard him yell out your name before you left but you slammed the door hard, ran down the stairs, and out of the house until you made the trek home. 

You told yourself that night, as angry tears fell out onto your pillow in your childhood bedroom, that you would move on from Steve Rogers. That you deserved more and that you were going to make space for yourself in your own way. 

As you settled into your new apartment, met Wanda as your new roommate (and now your certified best friend), you received a call from Nat and a text from Bucky.

Natasha was, naturally, upset at you for leaving without telling her. She made you promise to never do that again and to come to her more when you needed her. You felt one piece of your heart pull together again at how sincere and emotional Nat was on the phone. You realized that you may have also neglected your best friend when you and Steve were close, and promised her on the phone to never let that happen again. 

Bucky sent a text saying, “Dude, what the fuck,” which is pretty polite for him, considering the context. You apologized and explained to him your desire to build your own life and while he was still mad at you, he expressed his understanding and respect for your decision.

Bucky and your relationship was never very close like Steve’s and his was, but he always looked after you (in his own way). You felt protected by Bucky in ways that you couldn’t with anyone else, and you knew that he would always ultimately support you as he would his younger sister. He told you to text him if anyone were to bother you, and you promised that you would check in with him daily.

You did receive one text from Steve: “I’m sorry for everything, chip.” That was all he wrote. 

You glared at your phone and deleted his text, so overwhelmed with your anger and determination to remove Steve Rogers from your life. It seemed as if your lack of response was enough for him to get the message that you were done since he didn’t text you since that day. 

At Uni, you really grew and developed into yourself. You became involved in college campus life, got a job as a TA, had a boyfriend or two. You dated one guy for six months before calling it off since you were better off as friends, and any other flings that you’ve had were short-lived or just didn’t land well enough to be in a committed relationship. 

But you learned alot from these relationships and ultimately felt grateful to connect with people as you proved to yourself that you were something without the people back home. That you were more than the girl who loved Steve Rogers. You were proud of yourself for that.

Flashforward to now, you’ve just finished your freshman year of college. You’re visiting home for the summer to visit your parents, and to visit Bucky and Natasha, both of them ultimately decided to attend one of the local colleges. You kept your promise with them and stayed close, and even brought Wanda back with you– since introducing her to them last week, she became fast friends with your childhood friends. 

You haven’t really spoken to Steve since that last stint in high school. Considering that your two best friends were still close with him too, and your families were all close, you couldn’t exactly avoid him. But you never talked about what happened in highschool. At the chance that you would see and interact with each other, you would greet him politely even though there was still some animosity there. 

Steve wasn’t outwardly mean or rude, and he would try to talk with you more than once before in the past year, but you were evasive everytime in avoiding anything deeper than a “hello, how are you doing?.” You would stuff down the guilt from his disappointed and hurt expressions as you actively avoided him. You brushed off your friends who were begging you to try to repair your friendship with Steve– and just go back to school, blissfully living in ignorance. 

But now, as you stood in line awkwardly waiting for the Summer Queens County Fair’s haunted corn maze with Steve (your friends suddenly “needing” to get some drinks or go to the bathroom while Steve and you waited for tickets in line), you felt like you wanted to pass away from the how thick the tension filled the air.

You could practically feel Steve’s tense energy in attempting to engage you in conversation. And damn him, he looked good. His muscles looked even fuller as they were accentuated by a basic white tee, and his beard- argh, his beard- only made his features even more rugged and handsome. 

You hated the way that he could still make your heart flutter, even after all this time had passed. 

“So,” you almost jumped when he finally broke the silence. “How have you been, chip?” 

You felt yourself take a minute to defrost your stiff and frozen body as you turned to look at him. You met his curious gaze and said blatantly, “I’ve been okay.”

Silence filled the space again as your bluntness seemed to envelop the air around you. “Uh, that’s good. Are you…–how are you finding your classes?”

You looked back at him with narrowed eyes and just felt a rush of frustration move through you seeing his eager expression, that puppy dog look that always made you feel empathy for him suddenly made you feel annoyed and impassive.

“We don’t have to do this, Steve.” You said to him bluntly while crossing your arms defensively.

Steve’s own eyes narrowed in confusion and he swallowed heavily. He seemed to be thrown off by your comment. “I’m just trying to get to know you again, chip–”

“Well, I don’t want you to get to know me, Steve, okay?!” You interrupted him as your voice raised before lowering in the latter half. 

Looking up at him, you met his eyes for the third time that night, but what you didn’t expect to see was that he looked so crestfallen and sad. 

The guilt that has built up over the past few years swooped in and rested heavily in your chest. Instantly regretting your outburst, you sighed, “Look, I just think that we may be better off just not talking to each other, okay. We don’t have to try to be friends again just because our friends forced us to finally interact with each other since highschool.”

Steve winced at your cutting words, and he still had this sadness on his face as he looked down at his feet before he said quietly, “I’m not trying to…–I just…it’s been a long time, chip. The last time that I saw you, with Sharon and with what you said, I–,” you both winced in that quick rehash of the incident. Steve finished with a weary sigh, “Honestly, I just miss you.” 

You frowned when listening to his words as the sincerity behind it felt displaced, and out of nowhere. You also couldn't help but feel concerned as you really looked at him. Outwardly, Steve looked as put together as he usually did. But people weren’t used to seeing him the way that you had growing up.

Looking closer, his eyes weren’t as bright as they could be, and they looked tired. Slight dark circles were forming underneath his dim eyes, shading his fully bearded face that was just a tad unkempt. He looked like he hadn’t been sleeping well and his shoulders had a hunch to them that could be perceived as calmness when you knew that it more resembled a tiredness or despondence. 

Your frown was still on your face as you elected to ignore his declaration of missing you and simply asked, “Are you okay, Stevie?”

At your question, Steve noticeably straightened up and his mouth parted in surprise that reflected in his eyes. You both stood there for a moment as you stared at him with concern and him looking at you with…mirth? With your lips pursed, you glanced at him with narrowed eyes at seeing the humor alight in his eyes, brightening them a bit more towards its familiar shade of cerulean blue.

“Okay, what just happened?” You asked suspiciously. 

Steve’s eyes brightened more and the grin that was growing on his face grew even larger into a soft smile. “You called me Stevie.” 

You lurched back a bit as you replayed the moment briefly in your head and stuttered a bit at the realization. You hadn’t meant to call him that at all, but when you saw that sad look on his face and the signs of it on his body, you couldn’t help but recall moments similar to when you were just kids, walking home, checking in with each other during similar moments, but experiencing these things together. 

“Uh- I– I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to call you–,” You blushed and stuttered as you tried and failed at attempting to save your slip. 

“No,” Steve interrupted you, his smile wilting a little bit. “Please, don’t apologize for that. I,– I miss us when we were just kids. Nobody calls me that anymore, well, beyond Nat and Buck, of course.” He said sheepishly while running his hand through his hair, disheveling it even more into a natural, annoyingly perfect quaff. 

You gave him an assented hum and cleared your throat as you looked back down at your feet, giving the flattened grass an invisible kick. You both were quiet again but the awkward animosity wasn’t as present as it was before. You both shifted on your feet a bit more before glancing up at each other from time to time, barely missing each others’ eyes before finally, your gazes met each other at the right time. 

He was looking at you differently– this time with that good-natured smile and levity in his eyes that glinted at you with that same ‘something else’ that you couldn’t quite put a finger on a year ago. 

His small grin was reluctantly infectious as you felt your lips start to curve upwards as a response.

“Whatever.” You rolled your eyes trying to stuff down your smile as you replied with a cheap response. Memories surfaced again of your witty banter that you used to share that always started with Steve’s little smile, and you couldn’t help but let out a small laugh as you opened them again to meet his own humorous gaze.

Steve’s soft smile grew into a teasing smirk, “That’s good, at least I got a smile and a laugh from you before you start to avoid me again.” 

You only gave him an incredulous look at how blatantly out of pocket that sounded before letting out a sudden, full belly-laugh with him. You couldn’t believe that you were laughing again with Steve Rogers. 

You felt this feeling again too - it wasn’t heartbreak, but rather, the shattered pieces that were shoddily put together again throughout the years felt solidified just a little bit more.

The laughs died down and the both of you remained standing there with genuine grins on your face. Before you lost your nerve, you felt a sudden urge to have him listen to you, to hear you, and to understand what really happened between you two. 

“Steve–,”

“Chip, I–”

You both looked at each other and laughed for a moment before he indicated for you to go first. His grin looked so boyish and sincere, you couldn’t help but smile back at him as you two were just high school kids in Brooklyn again. Comfortable and authentic, together. 

About to open your mouth, you get interrupted again by the person that you least expected to see on your visit back home.

“Chip? Steve? Oh my gosh, is that you two? Wow, chip! Look at you, you certainly grew into yourself!” Sharon’s pitched voice pierced the mutual bubble that was starting to form between you and Steve and flattened its existence.

You gave her a quick glance over and were internally surprised to see that she seemed to be exactly the same. Her eyeliner framed her hazel brown eyes that were widened in what looked like surprise, and with a hint of condescension (cause why wouldn’t she look down upon you with all of that pity). Her blonde hair resting softly down her back as she stood there in her floral skirt, her friends right behind her glancing over at you and Steve disinterestedly. 

You stood there and gave her a fake shoddy grin as you greeted her back politely. “Sharon, wow, hi.” Your monotonous tone couldn’t be covered up in time before the words left your mouth.

She only gave you a dull hum before she glanced over at Steve with a smirk. “Hi Steve, how are you?” 

The curious part of you couldn’t help but try to catch Steve’s reaction to her presence. You had no idea where things left with them since you left that day, and you never bothered to ask your friends either. Assessing him, he was looking at her with a nonchalant expression, and you were unsure of how deliberate his reaction was as he made small talk with her. 

Trying to gauge his expression, there wasn’t any sadness present in his eyes anymore, nor was there any mirth. But, you did notice a stiffness there. The corner of his eyes crinkled a little too harshly as he forced a polite smile onto his face. You could see his jaw clench as Sharon droned on about her college experience.

Time couldn’t erase the fact that you did know Steve Rogers for some time– and when he was uncomfortable, he wasn't able to hide it at all. 

The theatrical tunes of the fair and the echoes of people screaming in mirth and laughter suddenly came back in as you hear the booth employee for the haunted corn maze (this line was way too long for what it was worth) call for you and Steve to step on up. 

You couldn’t stifle the quiet mutter under your breath, “thank god” as a wave of relief flooded through your body at being able to escape the dangers that you just experienced as you turned around to follow the employee to the front of the maze. You didn’t even say bye to Sharon, and you didn’t even realize that your friends hadn’t returned from their supposed tasks. 

Your mutter may have been louder than you thought as you heard a snort from beside you. Glancing over, Steve was looking down at you with a returned humor that you just rolled your eyes at him. “Well, it’s not like you wanted to be there anymore than I did. Your tells are still exactly the same, Stevie.” You said derisively. 

Ignoring the harshness of your tone, Steve only smiled more as you slipped boundaries again. You only caught it when you saw that he was simply just staring at you in response. Only then did you catch it and you rolled your eyes again with a small smile. His smile grew more as he intentionally leaned and walked into your path as you both followed the employee. You stumbled to your left at his deliberate clumsiness and shoved him away from you playfully before you could stop yourself. 

You’re teasing around with Steve Rogers. And reluctantly admitting, you weren’t unhappy about it. 

You both continued to shove each other away as Steve kept teasing you until you reached the front of the maze. The employee turned to face you before you went inside to explain the rules and you were listening attentively until you heard a throat clear from behind you. Looking back, you see that it's Sharon and her friends. 

Trying to, but unsuccessfully, cover your agape mouth at seeing that they were actually following behind you this entire time, you clenched your jaw with annoyance and turned to face forward again.

The despair that you felt come in earlier from Steve’s arrival has returned tenfold with Sharon’s presence. Paired with the fact that you’re being forced to have entered a haunted corn maze, your hackles rise angrily at the fact that you’re being forced into a situation with both Steve and Sharon that you didn’t even wanna be a witness to, AGAIN.

Feeling suddenly so tired and exhausted, you let out a despondent sigh, “Okay, are we doing this or what?” The employee merely raised their eyebrows before motioning you to move forward in the maze.

You could feel Steve’s eyes following you as he tried to walk next to you, but you could hear Sharon trying to engage with him again. You could hear him respond but you didn't really care anymore. You didn't mean to be rude, but you were feeling resentful of all of it again. Especially hearing Sharon’s whiny voice trying to speak with Steve right directly behind you, you once again felt utterly alone. 

Torches and string lights lit up the corn maze. Although, the night sky was void of any lights or stars, which made the maze really feel like a maze– isolated and desolate. You could hear Sharon’s two friends in the back muttering that they were scared as they let out occasional, little screams at any sounds that could be heard (even if it was just the wind grazing the corn harshly, or honestly, the sounds of their own footsteps, ha.) 

Feeling so bored and wanting to leave, you turned around to just go back when you saw Sharon holding on to Steve’s arm with a worried look on her face. 

You were passing by some rows of hay with a sticky red substance spilling all over it when you heard Sharon’s small screech.

“Omg, you think that’s blood?,” She said with a genuinely worried tone. 

You wanted to laugh so bad as you looked over at Steve, just in time to see the rolling of his eyes and heavy sigh. She seemed to be grasping onto him with an even tighter grip and although Steve wasn’t shaking her off, he did have that uncomfortable look on his face again.

His second aggravated sigh and furrowed brows gave away his annoyance as he attempted to subtly create some space between his body and her touch. You turned forward again as the laughter erupted in your throat, but you managed to stifle it in time with a pursed smile on your face at hearing Sharon’s affronted noise in response. 

You could read a mean girl from far away at this point – Sharon’s attitude wasn’t lost on you nor was her sudden closeness with Steve. But it didn’t bother you as much as you thought it would, even if you found out that they were still together after high school. Honestly, a part of you felt satisfied that Steve, the one responsible for the existing tension between you in the first place, was finally just as uncomfortable as you were. To see Sharon offended and to see Steve’s discomfort made you feel a sense of justice and a resurged faith in good ol’ karma. 

That pride you felt in being able to find your own comfort in your healing made you feel giddy. You weren’t in any sense of a relationship that held any drama. It felt good to know that the forced proximity didn’t just affect you at this moment. Yeah, sucks to suck, doesn’t it?

You flinched a few times as you continued walking throughout the maze with some actors coming out to scare you, but as you saw the glaring red Exit sign, you couldn’t wait to get outta there. Speed walking at this point, you were determined to walk out of this maze with your gaze forward, determined to not look back at the two sore points of the past few years. 

You made it to the exit and sighed in relief. You were already a few paces away when you heard Steve call for you.

“Wait, chip! –” 

The body is a wonder - your mind was so fixated on leaving but when you heard him call out for you, your mind flashed to the both of you waiting in line, flashed to the sounds of your laughter mixing together, the feeling of him leaning into you. You didn’t want to but, suddenly, your feet just stopped in place and you turned around to look over at him. Hope swelled in your chest…

And there was Steve. And Sharon. Kissing. 

You inhaled deeply at the sight, not expecting to have caught them, yet again, mid-kiss. The tension knotting in your stomach finally exploded, and your stomach dropped making your feet feel so heavy. It was like watching a car crash happening in front of you - you felt fixated and couldn’t move, turn away. The hope that was swelling in your chest evaporated like mist, and you felt so foolish. The pieces that were somehow lodged together again from your earlier interaction broke into pieces, and felt grinded into dust. The wind took its opportune moment to breeze through your hair, and it almost felt like it intentionally took your longing for your best friend again with it.

Steve gripped Sharon’s arms harshly, shoving her away from him with an angry expression on his face. “Sharon, what the hell?!” He exclaimed. Turning away from Sharon and her pouted expression, his widened eyes frantically found yours. 

Even a few feet away, the panic that you saw in them was familiar. You remember seeing it exactly when you had severed the existing relationship between you and Steve that night. 

You couldn’t help your reactiveness– you were feeling so triggered by what you were witnessing. Your vision started to get blurry as you felt that familiar burning sensation building in your eyes. The panic in Steve’s eyes intensified at the sight, and when he made a move to step forward, your feet instinctively took one step back. 

Completing the reenacted memory, you felt your mouth press into a hardened line as you met his gaze with a ferocious determination. Familiar numbness rose up and a lethargic apathy just washed over you. You bravely met his gaze and although the words weren’t being said, you and Steve both heard the words.

“I wish that I had never met you.” 

The truth was, the anger and rage that you were feeling (and let’s be honest, the resentment that you suppressed and just gaslit yourself into reframing it as healing) was just the surface. Underneath, a deep and hollow feeling of just being unwanted and undesirable bubbled up with a vengeance. You didn’t wanna hear it, but you were tired, were abandoned by your friend(s), and energy depleted from tonight’s event. You knew you couldn’t be there any longer. 

Your feet continued to step back slowly as you heard Steve asking for you to please wait - but then Sharon took his arm again needily and you took that as your opportunity to bolt. 

You dropped your teary-eyed gaze away from his almost desperate looking one, mumbled out a quick excuse and left with a brisk nod. It was just like when you were 17 again, you heard Steve call out your name again but you don’t stop to look. You didn’t see him staring after you so longingly and looking so dejected, nor did you see him blatantly remove his arm from Sharon’s grip again while they hushed out intense looking whispers at each other. 

The parking lot of the carnival was in sight as you wiped away the bitter tears from your face. You knew that leaving was immature of you, and you knew that you would disappoint your friends. You knew that you were breaking your promises to Nat and Bucky (and now Wanda) about talking with them before making any impulsive decisions.

You reached your old pick-up and opened the door harshly. The tears wouldn’t stop as you stood outside the car. Almost child-like, your hands curled into fists as you brought them to your eyes and just sobbed. 

For a moment there, you thought that maybe…maybe you could start again. Maybe you and Steve could rekindle your friendship, or at least, talk things through. You thought that maybe you’d be able to continue laughing again. You shook your head, feeling so much pity for yourself. 

Heaving out another wilted sigh, you closed your eyes and tilted your head back to allow the fresh winded air to dry your tears upon your chilled face. You needed time to think, and you knew exactly where you wanted to go, and what you needed. 

The sweetness of the chocolate shavings melted in your mouth, leaving only the sugary taste behind. You took another sip of your milkshake and made sure to swipe some whipped cream from the top for an extra sweet finish. 

The diner was mostly empty, spare a truck driver or two sitting by the bar tops. You mindlessly stir your milkshake some more with the plastic straw and couldn’t help but relieve another sigh from your body. You came to the diner for nostalgia’s sake, and a chocolate chip milkshake was always a huge dopamine boost for whenever you were feeling sad. 

But this time, getting your favorite milkshake at the diner left more of a sour taste in your mouth as each sip just reminded you of Steve.

You decided that you would try to bring yourself to feeling better before you left for home, which meant drinking your milkshake, making small talk with Betty (the sweet, old waitress who has been giving you milkshakes for free since you were a teenager), and settling the grievances that you could actually fix. 

You instantly texted Wanda to let you know that you had left the carnival, and that you hoped that she was having fun going to the bathroom for the past hour. Instantly receiving an apologetic text back for ditching you with Steve, you figured it was as good a time as any to also let her know that she would have to ride back with Bucky and Nat (given the fact that you also had basically left her there too). She sent you the mouth wide open face emoji, and you knew that you both could call it even.

Nat texted you a selfie of her and Bucky pouting remorsefully. It was enough to make you crack a grin (Bucky looked so ridiculous). You demurely sent them back a picture of your middle finger (because you were the bigger person of course), which only had her text back an apology with an IOU. You knew that they were only trying to be your friends, but at least you would have this photo as blackmail for future purposes. 

You started to play a game on your phone mindlessly when you heard the door ring, indicating a new customer walking in. Not even looking up, you proceeded to win the next level of the game until someone set another chocolate chip milkshake down on your table. 

“Oh, it’s okay, Bet, I didn’t want–,” you started to say as you looked up. But it wasn’t Betty who dropped off the milkshake. 

It was Steve. 

Your eyes widened a bit in just processing that he was actually there, standing in front of you. He actually came to find you? The scene from earlier was so crystal clear and akin to your high school memory, you were convinced that that would be it. As you sat there staring doe-eyed at Steve, the scene had felt like it glitched as it was now playing out differently than you had expected.

Heat rose to your cheeks as your gaze focused on Steve’s determined facial expression. You turned forward to face your new milkshake and deliberately avoided his narrowed gaze. You could feel him still staring at you and you shifted uncomfortably. He didn’t say anything but moved to sit across from you in the booth, heaving out a heavy sigh of his own as he did too.

You kept your eyes down as the both of you let the silence permeate the air around you. A few minutes passed before you were about to officially just get up and leave when Steve broke the silence first. 

“I swear,” he turned to look over at you with an exasperated gaze. “I had no idea that she was going to be there.”

A disbelieving scoff came out of your mouth and you rolled your eyes blatantly. “Steve stop, again, you don’t have to do this – “ 

“Stop saying that, chip!” His voice was filled with a sternness that you couldn’t ignore. Your eyes widened at him as he continued, “I’m here because I want to be, okay? Not cause Bucky, or Nat, or your family told me to or forced me to. I found you - and I asked you to wait earlier and you ran away, again!”

A glare scrunched up your face as your fury rose up at the audacity of his scolding, “Excuse me?! I didn’t want to wait because I didn’t want to watch you and Sharon sucking each other’s faces off, again!” You flourished your mocking with a tight expression and only caused Steve to oppose you even more.

“She was the one who kissed me – I didn’t want to be there with her either. I haven’t even seen or spoken to Sharon since you left!” Steve blurted out.

Your heart felt like it was racing in your chest and your mind blanked at hearing Steve’s reveal as you tried to stutter out a response. “What– I don’t–,” words were hard. You thought that they were together for some time during the year in college. With the way that Sharon was acting, you assumed that they were still interacting with each other, somehow, at the very least.

Steve took advantage of your surprised silence and continued, “God, chip. After what happened at the party, I just…I realized then how much I hurt you.” He looked at you with such remorse as you just continued staring at him. The hardness that was built over the years was still surrounding you, trying to protect you, even if Steve was professing his regret. 

“When I heard you say that you regretted having ever met me,” you both flinched at the words as he said them, “and this look in your eyes…it looked like you really despised me and I felt it and I just–,” Steve cut himself off with another flinch and pinched his eyes shut. 

“I let it get to my head. When I made the team and when people started to pay attention to me, when those bullies stopped bothering me and actually invited me to things, I lost sight of what really mattered to me the most and that was you. I know that that is a stupid excuse, and that I was hurting you, even way before what happened at the party and I was dumb, immature, and just stupid, and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, chip.” He spewed out the words faster than he could coherently process them but the sincerity could be heard in his rushed tone. 

His downcast, teary eyed gaze met yours and you felt your breath hitch slightly at the sight. Growing up with Steve, he was always the formidable one. He was the one who reached out first to hold your hand if you cried. The one to maintain composure and calmness while you were the one who was more nervous and panicked. To see Steve so out of breath, wistful, and low-spirited was worrisome and unfamiliar to you. 

You were at a loss for words as you tried your best to process his words. Steve bit his lip nervously as he tried to gauge your reaction. When you only met him with more silence, the despondent look in his face only grew, “Please. I completely understand if you still don’t want to be friends, and after this, I’ll completely leave you alone. But honestly, chip, I can’t leave knowing that you still hate me. I- I know that’s selfish, but I can’t.” 

You moved your stare to blankly look at your melting milkshake, the whipped cream completely evaporated into the cold drink. 

“You hurt me.” You blurted out.

Steve almost looked startled at hearing your voice after such a lingering silence. “I know, and I’m so sorry–.”

“No, Steve,” You interrupted him indignantly, “you hurt me.” The tears blurred your unseeing gaze again as you focused enough to meet his own. The whimper dislodged in your throat as you could no longer hide the suppressed pain.

Just like that, the both of you were 15 years old again. You were crying after being teased by other kids or bullied for your flaws, and Steve was there trying to console you. The impact of these experiences were a shared burden impenetrable to your friendship together.

The difference now is that, instead of your tears being spurred by the mean-spirited popular kids, Steve was the one who committed the offense, a betrayal that cut so deep and you were the only one to shoulder the burden. 

Steve swallowed heavily as he blinked furiously to hold his own tears at bay. He seemed to understand what you were saying as his eyes glanced over the different features of your face. He knew all of your vulnerabilities and ignored, neglected his care of you by treating you the way that others had growing up. He abandoned you when you needed him the most, and he had to understand the severity of that in the same way that you tried to tell him then as you were now. 

Steve exhaled deeply as he looked over at you. His still despondent eyes held a layer of genuine understanding as he apologized despairingly, “I’m so sorry.” 

You sniffled as tears fell freely onto your cheeks, your puffy eyes and pained expression causing Steve to flinch in his own despondence. You brought a closed fist to your face again to wipe the tears and winced as you suddenly felt strong, sturdy arms envelop you in a soft embrace.

The tears only came down stronger at the feeling of hugging your best friend. Not feeling so alone anymore, your heart cried out with you in relief as you turned and tucked your face into his chest, your arms moved to clutch his back. Once you did, his embrace only became tighter as he squeezed you to him closer. 

You both sat there for a while, just hugging, soft sobs falling from your lips while Steve continued to repeat quiet, but earnest, apologies. After a year of animosity, sadness, and unresolved hurt, the both of you silently agreed to let this moment just be. 

Eventually, your tears stopped running so harshly and you sniffled back your snot-filled nose very charmingly as you reluctantly pulled away from his warmth. Steve still kept one muscular arm around your shoulder as you looked up at him hesitantly.

“Stevie?” You began to ask. Steve responded with a soft hum for you to continue while rubbing your shoulder soothingly. It didn’t even seem like he noticed that he was doing it.

Before you could lose your nerve, you meekly asked, “Why did you start pulling away from me when you started dating Sharon?” 

Steve’s hand froze and he stilled as if he were preparing for the worst. He sighed while closing his eyes for a moment. Taking a breath, he opened them back up to look at you with a resolved and honest gaze.

“When I told you that Sharon asked me to the prom, I thought that would’ve been the moment that you told me that you liked me the same way that I liked you.” 

Your heart thundered so loudly in your chest as you gave him a shocked, glazed over expression. 

He liked you.

“But then you smiled at me, and you said that you were happy for me, and, I guess a part of me felt like I was foolish to have ever thought that you would actually like me more than a friend. I continued things with Sharon because I felt like I had to get over you.” He said regretfully. 

You blinked up at him a few times before you asked dumbly, “And that’s why you were pulling away? The lies and the fake excuses, or why you ignored me when you were with Sharon?” 

Steve flinched with each question as he confessed, “Yes. It was really immature of me to ignore you. If I could go back and do it over, I would in a heartbeat.” An intentional look sat on his face as he expressed his remorse. 

You released another speechless hum in return, still processing that Steve liked you. In a spur of your own adrenaline running through your body, you suddenly disclosed, “Steve, I did like you the way that you liked me.”

Steve stilled and inhaled sharply, “...W-what do you mean?” 

Mustering up your own fostered courage, you exhaled deeply and said, “I liked you too. But I was your best friend. I thought that you were the one who didn’t like me, so I thought that if I supported you in dating Sharon, I wouldn’t lose you completely.” You felt your face scrunch in confusion as how ridiculously unnecessary this entire separation was.

He only looked at you with incredulity as he realized, “So, because we couldn’t just buck up and tell each other honestly in that moment that we liked each other, we ended up losing each other anyways?” 

“Ugh, what a mess.” You revered and knocked your forehead against his chest ashamedly. You both were quiet again as he resumed rubbing your shoulder calmingly. 

“Chip?” Steve suddenly spoke out. 

Raising your head up to look at him again, still cringing from such a huge misunderstanding, you gave him a soft hum to continue his inquiry. 

Steve looked down into your eyes, making you feel mesmerized with how deeply he was gazing at you. From how close your faces were, you could really see the subtle hints of green in his blue eyes. There was still some grief there as you looked at each other but there was again, something else that you still couldn’t point out. 

Noticing that unknowing glint in his eye for the second time that night, you questioned him curiously hoping to finally find out, “What is it?”

“I like you.”

Your breath hitched at his confession, his eyes filled with mirth again and an honesty that couldn’t be faked. Your thundering heart skipped a beat as you felt your own spirit restore within you. You could feel those pieces in your heart start to build again. 

You looked back at him with such relief as Steve pulled you in closer, you took in another deep breath as you responded.

“I love you.” 

His eyes immediately glowed with an infectious joy, a genuine laugh and smile graced his face as he got closer to you. You could hardly breathe as you returned his loving gaze, his nose nuzzled yours gently until the both of you met each other halfway in a tender, first kiss. 

A/N: my cue to say: and they lived happily ever after! i would love to know what people thought, thanks for reading :)

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[heartfullofleeches]

Femboy yan that crossdresses to invade fem!reader personal spaces.

Locker rooms, public bathrooms, sleepovers. They’ll join you in changing rooms and insist on sharing a bed (in the skimpiest pajamas only bc he can’t risk sleeping naked).

And GOD FORBID you guys ever go clubbing or anything of the sort bc they’ll transform into the “drunk” that’ll do all sorts of things with to their BESTIE!

[Wait- I heard you, but big brain idea - Darling is also a Femboy, but they allow people to call them a girl because it feels easier for them to dress the way they like. This could be read as Fem Reader or a Femboy Reader who presents as such on the surface.]

Femboy Yan who invites himself into your home and bedroom because "We're both girls! It's alright if we sleep and cuddle together, I won't tell anyone if you won't~"

Femboy Yan who shoves his tongue down your throat when wasted for a similar excuse. Friends kiss friends all the time.

Femboy Yan who quite literally bolts into the dressing room when you complain about not being able to get that last button or zip up your dress all the way. If he gets strange looks from staff, he has another excuse prepared. "I'm her bestie, it's fine - we do this all the time. Your girlfriends never helped you in or out of a dress before?"

Femboy Yan who jumps to calling himself your girlfriend and becoming ten times clingier when some guy so much as glances at you. "Sorry! My girlfriend's note interested in giving you her number. We were just about to go make out in that broom closet over there before you interrupted us. If you're smart you'll be gone before we get back.*

Femboy Yan who asks if you'd dated if he was a boy. He's totally not, but like - would you? If he stays single, then you will to, won't you? You wouldn't want to make your bestie sad by sharing those lips with someone else, right? He claimed those pretty lips the second he smeared them with his favorite lipstick. If you do find someone else he'll just have to take them from you. Most guys are trash and would probably dump you if he bated those long lashes of his at them. Makes for less tears from you when their ugly mugs appear on the news as missing persons cases

Maybe you can laugh over their misfortune together during one of those sleepovers your bestie adores so much

[elftwink]

going to say something about writing that is not a complaint and i know it sounds exactly like someone complaining but the conclusion i have drawn is that this rules. preface over am currently "working on" (in the most generous, nebulous sense possible) an original fantasy story & i just keep finding more stuff about the world i need to decide because it feels extremely formative to me even though it will barely appear on the page, if at all

but like... just the sheer volume of communication irl that happens symbolically that you never question becomes so apparent when you try to create a world that doesn't have those things or doesn't have the conditions for such a thing to be created. writing a character wearing a wedding ring and then going wait a minute— would these people communicate marital status via ring placement? why do we do that irl? when did we start? surely thats not the only way people ever communicate marriage— what does everyone else do? and really, come to think of it, what does it mean to be 'married' in this fictional world i'm creating? is there a legal component or just a social one? should it have all the same connotations/obligations as the real world (e.g. monogamy, having children, romantic love, impact on finances, etc)?

you can do this with literally Everything In The World. what language is everyone speaking? is it the same one? how many languages are there in the region i'm writing about? is the language we're speaking anyone's second language? when did they learn? is bilingualism common? and where does everyone here live? speaking of living, is that a permanent dwelling situation or are people nomadic? what's the climate like? are all the characters here used to the climate or is someone used to ten degrees cooler and kind of short tempered because of it? the clothes are probably impacted by the weather, what's everyone wearing? what's it made out of? what would be around here that could be used for dye? help me i have a case of worldbuilders disease and its incurable. these motherfuckers are never going to finish this journey because i cant even get them on the page long enough to pack a cart. also would they use carts? when did we start having cart and carriages pulled on roads irl? if there's roads, who's maintaining them— or is it just the path from years of people travelling that way? does the terrain allow for wheeled vehicles or would some other way be better?

anyway. you may call all this a waste of time and "not technically writing" since i "havent written any prose". i think im just slow cooking this novel. oooooh im thinking about it so much. you just wait when im like 56 im going to knock your socks right off with my intricate detailed world where i thought about everything except whatever element of society you understand most deeply. that part i fucked up and clearly didn't know anything about. sorry

[balkanradfem]

I've gotten several asks about sending me money, or a laptop, so it's time that I reveal to you, a situation, that's been going on without your knowledge, because I kept it a secret.

So a while ago, while my laptop was breaking down and had to be glued together every week, I got a message from a woman on tumblr, telling me that she could send me a second-hand laptop, so I wouldn't have to glue mine together. I naturally rejected immediately, because it was too much of a gift, and I wouldn't be able to repay it.

But then, I spent the rest of the day thinking that it might have been a bad decision, because my laptop would be dead soon, and I had no funds to get another one, and it wasn't like I was offered money, I hate money, but I don't hate a second hand laptop. I kept thinking back on it and wishing I acted differently. So I went back to the conversation, and the woman reassured me that it wouldn't take anything away from anyone, she's a part of a charitable organization that donates used electronics and chose me to take part in a pilot scheme, because she liked my blog. I was slightly concerned that it might have been a scam because it sounded too good to be true, but the woman shared more information about it, it looked real, and my gut feeling was saying yes this is real, however unbeliveable, there might be someone out there so kind they would make sure you have access to your tumblr blog.

So I accepted the laptop. It was nerve wrecking because all my friends told me it was a scam, and the customs took hold of it and held it hostage and made it their business to tax gifted items, and while this was happening, my old laptop died, and of course I complained about it on tumblr because thats what tumblrinas do.

But, the laptop got to me. It arrived yesterday. And it works. And I love it. I'm back to having access to tumblr!

Now I'm not saying you should all accept that people on the internet wanting to send you stuff are genuine, or giving them your private information so they could send you stuff, that is... a risky situation, and in this one case,,,, it worked out,,,, in my favour. I am unbeliveably grateful for the laptop and it's the best thing ever. It's an unbeliveable story to tell, nobody believes me this happened, and I'm just over the moon over having a functional laptop. It's all in one piece! I don't have to ductape anything! The battery works! The graphics look amazing! It doesn't shut down randomly! It doesn't have parts dangling off the side! The screen can be tilted at any angle and it doesn't fall down! I can play stardew valley on it! The woman even wrote me a handwritten letter and I swooned over it.

I'm lucky to be so adored by tumblr that I'm able to get something incredible like this, only because all of you women are genuinely kind and care about having me around. Thank you for enabling this blog!

[greenandsorrow]

~Her man child~

Headcanons 📺

Vox is the definition of a manchild and I think it's kinda obvious.

He's the mean kind, acting with so much spite, sometimes without it being necessary or justified.

He NEEDS to be taken seriously. He tries so hard, blurring the lines between respect, fear and tolerance.

But when you two are alone... the telly-head man is a whiny boy.

He complains like it's a form of art. You can't help but roll your eyes playfully when he lets out a too loud sigh, but after doing so you're always ready to give him all the reassurance and attention he desperately craves.

Your man prefers being the little spoon. He's like a lap cat.

If anyone finds out about his cuddly nature, he's gonna die a second time...

Vox feels the need to constantly prove himself to Velvette and Valentino, but with you he feels safe. He can be overly emotional. And weak. And needy.

Very needy.

If you're not somewhere behind the camera admiring him and boosting his confidence, his day is ruined.

Grumpy, grumpy, grumpy.

In the mornings he doesn't even turn on his screen... settling for the protection setting instead.

You have to be patient with him.

Bring him a steaming cup of coffee and hug him from behind and he might as well start giggling like a schoolgirl.

He's too sensitive for harsh jokes. Being in Hell means ONLY dark and cruel humour, but Vox can't take it sometimes.

His ego is fragile.

In order to feel loved, Vox has to be showered in extravagant compliments on a daily basis. Whether it's about his appearance, his job, his amazing and very interesting personality... He needs them.

When you tell him he's better than the radio demon.... he literally gets rock hard.

Vox is in a constant dilemma between showing you off for all Pentagram City to know you're his, or keeping you secret.

It's the same as a boy with his favourite toy. If other kids see his toy, he's gonna have to share.

What if someone steals his favourite toy?! Or even worse... BREAK IT?!

That being said, he doesn't objectify you, but he's terrible at showing affection or appreciation.

He's gonna be there for you, help you with anything you need, laugh with you, spend quality time with you. Still, deep communication is a difficult subject for him.

Thank god you're observant enough to catch all the messages he tries to pass to you.

Such an attention seeker though.

Have you ever seen a six year old trying to impress his crush?

Just look at Vox trying to woo you. It's the same thing.

But he's not that bad... His self-esteem is an obstacle alright, but he becomes a rug for you to step on and use as you wish most of the time.

Vox would definitely go out of his way if you asked something from him. You're his rock. It's the least he can do.

The guy even whimpers in his sleep.

Vox loves to fill his hands with your thighs when it's bed time. They're warm and soothing to him, like stress toys. Being a walking television has its disadvantages temperature wise.

He would bend you over and take you in front of a mirror so he could see himself while at it, but he hasn't done so yet. He wants to ask you beforehand and make sure it won't make you feel weird.

Vox is easy to rile up. A breathy compliment and a squeeze of his thigh and he's more than ready to go.

He doesn't actually feel dominant, but he tries to act like it. This Vee member has the stereotype man = dominance engraved in his subconsciousness and so he fights to live up to it.

But between you and me... Treat him like an inexperienced and innocent boy and he'll be crying out in pleasure.

Aka... be a femdom. Even a soft one. You won't even have to try that much.

Another thing. Vox is loud. (Like his name implies 🫣)

He also pants a lot. Almost like he's hyperventilating.

Unlike Alastor, this man is very insecure about both his performance and... size.

I'm not saying he's lacking in either though. It's just how his mind works. Always comparing himself to his opponents and in this case, his opponents are other men that could perhaps satisfy you more thoroughly than him.

Allow me to say that he fucks in an anxious way. Hands shaking and his mantra "Does that feel good to you darling?"

You just need to praise him a little. (A lot)

He doesn't last that long but he'll be sure to rub your clit so you don't either.

When it gets too real, he tears up at the end, like a baby that's holding back from crying. But you're there to hold him until he calms down.

He's usually too tired (and still nervous) afterwards for proper aftercare. Vox likes to be babied though. It's more personal attention after all.

Oh to be cleaned up and tucked to bed! Only then will he feel comfortable enough to run his fingers through your hair and mumble a faint thank you.

Vox's head has a bit of an awkward shape for cunnilingus. However, he has a surprisingly long tongue that can reach more than enough to have you moaning out how good of a boy he's being.

He usually cums in his pants while eating you out.

And when you return the favour it's usually to relieve his stress at work. He feels like a teenager when you do it. It's an act of service, really.

He low-key fucks your face, not enough to choke you but you do gag around him. It makes him feel in control. It makes him feel like a man.

To sum up, Vox is a bit dependent on you and on your validation, but he would never hurt you or become too overbearing.

He's needy, but not stupid.

He is the definition of a manchild and I think I proved my point.

But he's your manchild sis!

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my masterlist || Hazbin Hotel masterlist 🦷

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Vox divider by @rubra-wav

Support divider by @cafekitsune

The explicit content one... I don't remember :(

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[multi-fandoms-posts]

Master? Part 2

Qimir x reader

I look at him for a few seconds,

I take out my lightsaber and turn to the Jedi. I attack the Jedi, but I'm totally distracted. I can't believe Qimir is my master.

"Focus!" his voice rings in my head. I immediately dodge the Jedi and attack again. The Jedi fights back and pushes me back. I jump over the Jedi and kill him.

"You did well, my little star," Qimir grins and I blush slightly. "Thank you, master," I say.

I just realized that the whole time I've been complaining about my master, I've been saying it to his face.

"Why were you playing a double game, master?" I ask. "I wanted to test your loyalty," he says. "I am always faithful and loyal to you," I growl. "I follow your every order," I say angrily and he just grins.

I feel so vulnerable all of a sudden, I told Qimir everything. Hell, I even fell in love with him. And here he is, my master, grinning so smugly as if nothing had happened.

"Love can hurt," he says. "Stop reading my mind," I say. "Your mind betrays you," he simply says.

Without thinking, I attack him. He dodges and I turn around to attack again.

This time he fights back and I stumble back a little and attack again, he raises his arm and my lightsaber hits the cortosis and deactivates. "Shit" I say and look at my master. "Weak" is all he says and I sense the presence of another Jedi.

I turn around and the Jedi is attacking me. It all happened so fast. The next thing I know is a sharp pain in my side and a blow to the head before everything goes dark.

the next day

I wake up with a fright and look around. It looks like a cave, but there is no sign of my master or anyone else. I stand up and feel a slight pain in my side. I lift up my shirt and see the bandage. Memories from last night come flooding back. A Jedi did this to me.

I look around, but can't find any indication of who lives here. Maybe my master?

I found a knife and took it with me just in case. I left the cave. When I walked outside, I could see the sea. It was beautiful here, so quiet. I walked down and watched the sea for a moment when I saw Qimir further away.

I decide to follow him secretly. After a while of running, I hide behind a rock and see him undressing. I see a long scar going down his back and wonder who did this to him. I blush when I realize I'm still staring and quickly look away. When I hear him go into the water, I look again.

I am torn between my feelings. I love Qimir, but he is my master.

"How long are you going to stare at me?" he calls without turning around. I should have known he would notice me. I run out from behind the rock.

"Why am I here?" I ask. "Isn't it obvious?" he asks, and I just look at him. "You were badly hurt," he says, and I can hear concern in his voice, which surprises me.

He swims back to the shore and looks at me. "If you don't want to come in, I'd like to get dressed," he says, pointing to his clothes. I take a few steps back.

Qimir climbs out of the water and I look at him briefly before turning around quickly. "You don't have to turn away," he says, and I can hear his grin.

I just roll my eyes. "Done," he says, and when I turn around, we are standing very close to each other. I feel the warmth radiating from him. Qimir suddenly puts his hand on my cheek. His gentleness surprises me. He moves his face closer and stops a few centimeters from my face. His hand lets go of my cheek. "My little star," he whispers. My heartbeat accelerates. "How are you feeling?" he whispers. "Better," I whisper back.

He suddenly moves away from me. "Good, we'll train later," he grins and walks back. I stop for a moment and am surprised at his sudden proximity from before.

I quickly run after him.

Later that day

We stand opposite each other on a cliff. "Attack me," he says. I look at him briefly before pulling out my lightsaber and attacking him. He dodges and pulls out his lightsaber as well. I turn around and attack again.

Lightsaber clashes with lightsaber and he pushes me to the edge of the cliff. I look down and then back at Qimir and dodge to the right. Qimir stumbles forward a little and turns around. "Good," he grins and attacks me.

I fend off his attacks as best I can. Suddenly he pulls my leg away and I stumble backwards onto the ground, losing my lightsaber.

He stands over me and holds his lightsaber just a few millimeters from my face. "You can do better than that," he says and turns away.

I get back up, grab my lightsaber and attack again. He dodges again and then the stupidest thing that can happen happens. I trip over a rock and fall down the slope. My head hits a tree. I see nothing for a moment before Qimir comes towards me. "Is everything OK?" he asks and again I hear concern in his voice. He helps me up. "Let me see," he says gently and looks at my head. "It's going to be a little bump," he says.

We look at each other intensely and Qimir comes closer. But suddenly his behavior changes again and he moves away.

"Are you serious?" I ask angrily. "First you're caring and looking after me and the next second you're keeping your distance again. Why? Why are you doing this to me?" I ask, trying not to cry. Qimir just looks at me. "Training is over," he says and walks away.

I stay here for a while and collect my thoughts. It hurts that he treats me like this. When it starts to rain, I go back downstairs.

When I come in, Qimir is fixing his helmet. I sit on the couch and watch him for a while. Neither of us has said a word.

It's the middle of the night and I'm lying awake in bed. Qimir lay down on the couch hours ago and fell asleep.

I turn over and try to sleep. When I'm almost asleep, I hear a noise and immediately sit up straight. I look around but can't see any strangers. I hear another noise and see that it's Qimir. "No," I hear him say. It seems like he's having a nightmare. "Leave me," he says.

I stand up and go to him. He turns around. "Stop," he says.

I try to wake him up. "Qimir," I say, putting my hand on his cheek. "It's just a nightmare. Wake up," I say, and his eyes open.

He grabs me by the neck so hard that I can't breathe. I try to pull myself away. "Q-Qimir," I say weakly. Just before I pass out, he lets go of me and I land on the floor. "Y/N," he says, shocked, and helps me up.

“Are you okay?” he asks. I take a deep breath and nod.

I want to get up and leave, but Qimir grabs my wrist and pulls me back to him. We are very close again. Qimir comes closer to me again and I am afraid that he will pull away again, but not this time. His lips touch mine. I am shocked at first, but I kiss him back.When he pulls away from me a little, he puts his forehead on mine. "Is this real?" I ask. "Why wouldn't this be real?" he asks. "I hit my head earlier, maybe I'm hallucinating," I say. Qimir smiles. "You're not hallucinating, I promise," he smiles.

"I'm afraid of losing you. I almost lost you 2 days ago," he confesses. "You saved me," I say and stroke his cheek. "I'm still alive because you saved me, Qimir," I say and kiss him.

"Let's go back to sleep," says Qimir and pulls me down to him. I snuggle up to his warm chest and fall asleep within a few minutes.

From now on, a lot will change.

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Hope you like it😊

[thursdayinspace]

hmmmm what about a fic called 'Starstruck' for Mulder and Scully what's your take on that?

ha, okay. only one way to go with this!

"So, I guess she's sticking around, then?" Frohike asks, and Mulder looks up from . . . whatever it is Byers just put on the screen in front of him and nods.

"Seems that way. At least for now."

"I'm sorry, man," Langly says, clapping a hand to his shoulder. "That sucks."

"No." Mulder shrugs. "It's fine. She - I think it'll work out alright. I've got a feeling -" He stops there, shrugs again, turns back to the strange symbols on the computer screen.

"A feeling?" Frohike asks.

"I just think she's okay," Mulder says, not sure he wants to keep talking about this with the gunmen. "I mean, it was only one case, but we actually worked well together."

"But you never wanted a partner again," Byers reminds him. "Didn't you always say how happy you were to be working alone?"

"Yeah, well, I don't have a choice in the matter one way or another," Mulder answers. "Might as well work with her rather than against her, right? And she is kind of -" He thinks about what she is, and the only word he can come up with is "brilliant."

Langly doesn't look convinced. "On the phone you complained that she was rejecting all of your theories and constantly arguing with you."

"Doesn't change the fact that she's really good at her job," Mulder points out. "She wants to get to the bottom of things as much as I do. And she's smart. Really smart. You should read her thesis, she's -"

"You've read her thesis?" Byers asks.

"I just wanted to know who I'm dealing with." Mulder doesn't know why he feels like he has to defend himself, but he kind of feels like he does.

"And it's good?" Frohike asks.

"I have a copy," Mulder says. "I'll bring it by next time I'm here."

"Dude, that's okay," Langly says. "We believe you. Just can't believe you actually want to work with her."

"Is she hot?" Frohike asks, and Mulder spins around to him, glaring.

"Leave her alone, Frohike."

"Hey, chill," Langly says. "No one's taking her from you." There's silence for a second before he continues, "So, is she hot?"

Mulder turns away and takes a few deep breaths. "I guess," he admits. "Does it matter?"

"I don't know," Frohike says. "Does it?"

"She's my partner."

"But you still have eyes," Byers points out.

"Okay, enough," Mulder snaps. "She's a brilliant scientist, she cares about the truth, and yeah, maybe she approaches things differently than I do, but she is way more open-minded than she knows she is. She is compassionate and curious and smarter than anyone I've ever met."

"Oh, you wound me," Langly throws in, but shuts up when Mulder throws him a sharp look.

"I don't want a partner," Mulder says. "But if I have to work with someone, I think they couldn't have send me anyone better. A mind like hers -- you just don't find that anywhere. And if she also happens to be a beautiful woman, that has nothing to do with any of it."

For a moment, nobody talks, the only sound in the room the hum of the computers. It's Frohike who finally breaks the silence.

"So, she is hot."

Mulder throws a pen at him.

"Hey, he doesn't mean anything by it," Byers says. "You just. Almost sound a little starstruck."

"Mulder has a crush." Langly says. "That's adorable."

"Shut up," Mulder says, and fixes his eyes back on the screen. "One thing is for sure though: I'm not introducing you to her anytime soon."

He won't. Not unless he absolutely has to. Not that he thinks they'd scare her away, but, well. He's pretty sure she already thinks he's pretty weird. And no, he still doesn't want a partner. But he can't deny that he's not been looking forward to a Monday morning this much in a long time. Monday morning when he'll go back to the office and she will be there. He can't wait to hear what she has to say next.

[bubbly-parker]

Isaac Request

Requested? Yes

Isaac Lahey x witch afab Reader

I didn't know if you wanted pure fluff of smut too so this is pure fluff I think I will add a second Chapter with smut, tonight or tomorrow. If anyone has any ideas what to add please drop them in my inbox <3333

Prompts:

4. "I'm staying. Stop fighting me.”

9. "let me take care of you

The reader thinks Isaac doesn't like her, but he's just awful at showing his feelings.

Since the reader doesn't have healing abilities like the rest of them Isaac never wants them to come with them because it stresses him out too much, he feels the need to protect her and he can’t fight and keep an eye on her at the same time

The reader thinks Isaac sees her as a burden but he is in loooooooove

Challenge: take a shot everytime i wrote Isaac.

Spoiler:

“Don't even start again. Just let me help without complaining for once.”

A small “why” was all you could muster in return, too tired to start a whole argument. “What do you mean, why? To make sure you're fine, obviously."

“In case you haven't noticed, but it's always me looking after you.”

You woke up on your living room couch, halfway slumped over the side, with a pounding head and blurry vision. You couldn't remember getting home; all you remembered was a pretty bad fight.

I should have just stayed out of there.

But of course, you could never stay out of other people's business. No one in Beacon Hill could. Supernatural was drawn to supernatural.

When you changed schools, you didn't expect your parents to drop you off, and ending up immediately running into a WHOLE PACK of werewolves. You kept your head down and walked right past them as if they didn't exist.

You are a witch, so you smell like an average human to them, but they can’t fool you being born a witch. Your third eye has always been open, and they can’t hide their true forms from you.

One day during lunch, you overheard some of their troubles—of course, you weren't eavesdropping...

you'd never..

From what you gathered, they needed a rare plant that happened to grow in your witch mother’s garden.

You've only been here for a few weeks but befriended Allison and Lydia quickly, so you understood the pack was keeping the town safe and are no danger, of course, they didn't know that you had already seen through them, but you felt the need to help them regardless.

You heard them talking about meeting up after school, so you dropped a tracking stone in Lydia's bag during class when she wasn't looking so you could find her later. In hindsight, you should have maybe just approached them instead of using Lydia to stalk them, but you aren't exactly the most extroverted, so they would have to deal, you thought.

Later that day, you went home and plucked the flower from your mom’s garden while she was still out. Back in your room, you placed the second tracking stone on your map, and it moved exactly to where Lydia was at that moment.

Back then, on that day, you should have learned to mind your business, but whatever

You got out of your car in the middle of the woods, a map and a mason jar with your flower in your hand, looking for Lydia when you heard screaming.

A fight was happening in the middle of the woods, and you ran right into it.

“The fuck are you doing here?” You turned around to see a rather angry Isaac right behind you, unsure whether he had turned since you pretty much always saw through their facade. You could feel the anger rolling off of him. Taking a step back as he took on forward, you pushed your hand out, shoving the jar under his nose while avoiding his eyes. You said nothing.

Isaac accused you of spying on them and trying to sabotage them, but thankfully Stiles stumbled towards you guys, perplexed by your appearance but thankful either way he took the flower and did god knows what with it.

Ever since that you involuntary became a part of the pack. You told them how you knew from the first time you set foot in the school, but Isaac didn't trust you and kept his distance. Now, a year later, close to graduation, you still end up coming to the rescue every single time together with Stiles. You're keeping the boat from sinking, really.

And that's why you found yourself in your current position. You came to the rescue again. Some sicko alpha was rampaging through the woods, and while you were laying a trail of mountain ash, he attacked you from behind, scratching open your side and throwing you through the night sky, lovely.

You didn't register any pain at first, but now that you're coming to be, your entire side is burning, and your head is pounding even stronger.

You don't know who got you home, but you could hear water running in your guest bath down the hall, so with a shaky breath, you pushed yourself up to make your way over to the bathroom, but your vision got blurry, and you had to lean on the armrest.

“What are you doing? Sit back down.” Isaac came rushing towards you and helped you sit back down. You didn't know who to expect, but it wasn't Isaac.

Over the last year, Isaac had warmed up to you a little—not that you could tell, but that's what the others kept saying.

To you, Isaac still seemed closed off, but you wrote it off as it being his personality.

He didn't want you to come today. He protested profusely at lunch, saying that there was nothing you could help with anyway and that you were just putting yourself in danger. You knew that you probably should have sat this one out, but Stiles was feeling under the weather, and you didn't like that Isaac made you feel like a child.”

“I can take care of myself. I'm not a child,” you told Isaac, who acted like you would just be a burden. You feared he might have been right.

Now that he was in your home, treating you like a child again made you angry. One day, he was nice to you—distant but still somewhat nice—giving you class notes when you were sick even though you were sure he never took notes. He shrugged it off like it was no big deal, and then he acted like a first-class jerk again.

To be real, his cold-shoulder, mysterious attitude had you crushing a little at first, but when you realized that he only cold-shouldered you and Stiles, it just felt like he was excluding you.

While you could be more of a help to your friends if you would be focusing on spell crafting like your mom instead of potion making, it comes in handy in times like this where your healing salves would aid your healing process, not having the natural advanced healing of a werewolf.

You take a staggered breath in, grind your teeth together, and got moving.

“You’re shitting me right now; you shouldn't move in this condition.”

Ignoring Isaac, you moved towards your hallway, one hand on the wall stabilizing you.

“I mean it, Isaac, just leave. I brought this onto myself anyway."

But instead of Isaac leaving, you could hear him move towards you.

You went to turn around. “ Wh-

Before you could even start, Isaac picked you up.

Paralyzed from the shock of what was happening, you just gasped up at Isaac like a fish as he carried you to your bedroom. He placed you down on your bed, and without looking at you, he immediately turned away. Your eyes followed his figure as he moved towards the other side of your room, where you kept your potion cabinet.

“Which one is that healing stuff you gave Allison last time?” You just looked at Isaac, not quite understanding why he was still here.

“the purple container that says Clinique” (reduce, reuse, recycle old containers)

Isaac moved back over to the bed. You sat up and took the salve from him.

You waited for him to leave so you could lift your shirt and apply the salve but Isaac sat down next to you.

“I'll help you." Isaac moved closer and tried to lift the side of your shirt, but you flinched back—wrong idea. A stabbing pain ran up your side and temporarily made your vision go black.

One part of your brain enjoyed the idea of taking your whole shirt off in front of Isaac—maybe that small part that still had a crush on him—but the other side didn't even want to slightly lift it.

“I can do it, Isaac; seriously, I'm not getting naked in front of you,” you glared at Isaac the best you could. "You don't need to be here.”

In reality, you didn't look mean at all, the pain too clear in your expression, and your wound far too concerning in Isaac's eyes. “You’re not getting naked; I just need to rub this on, and in case you haven't noticed, you're not even wearing your own shirt, so I won't see anything I haven’t already.”

You looked down at your own body and noticed he's right; the shirt you left the house in is long gone; instead, your blood is soaking into the shirt Isaac wore earlier under his jacket.

While you were distracted, Isaac quickly applied the slave to one hand and went under your shirt. As he went to apply it, you still tried to wriggle out of his hold; you don't know why you did it. You could tell that Isaac, for whatever reason, just wanted to help you.

Nice Isaac was complicated. It made the irrational side of your brain fuzzy, and maybe one small butterfly woke up in your stomach. "I'm staying. Stop fighting me and let me help you, goddamit.”

Isaac’s grip tightened around your waist. You couldn't go anywhere. As he rubbed the salve around your wound, he decided not to lift your shirt and just moved his hand under it.

You titled your head to look at Isaac; his eyes moved from your middle to your face. “Is this okay?” he asked while looking into your eyes.

You nodded your head, not sure what to say. This side of Isaac was weird; technically, you should be happy. This caring side is what you dreamed about months ago when you started crushing on the mysterious wolf, but he made it so incredibly hard on you by always treating you like a little kid.

When Isaac was done, he got up off the bed, washed his hands, and put the salve back where it belonged.

You dropped back on your bed, facing the ceiling, energy fading. You couldn't even move up the bed, legs still dangling off.

Isaac came back to your side and kneeled. He started taking your boots off; you felt too exhausted to even lift your feet to help him.

You groaned, thinking about how Isaac would use this against you for all eternity to prove that you are nothing but a danger to yourself.

“Don't even start again. Just let me help without complaining for once.”

Okay, that wasn't what you expected.

A small “why” was all you could muster in return, too tired to start a whole argument.

“What do you mean, why? To make sure you're fine, obviously."

You didn't really understand what Isaac was on about.

“In case you haven't noticed, but it's always me looking after you.”

You tried to make sense of his words when a conversation you had with Lydia came back to mind; you brushed it off, but Lydia had said something about Isaac always being way too close to you, not in a literal way, but if you were walking in a group, he was next to you walking on the side next to the road, and if you split up in groups, Isaac was always with you, and now today.

wait

“How did you find me? You were supposed to be at the other end of the woods?” You asked Isaac, who gave no reply. He was supposed to be with Allison as backup and setting up traps.

Isaac had put your shoes next to your wardrobe and came back to the side of your bed to help you move fully onto the bed.

“Isaac?”

“I was going to go in position once you were inside the Mountain Ash Circle... But then he came out of nowhere. I was too focused on you to notice him. I'm sorry.” Now you knew Isaac wasn't a man of many words, but you realized that Lydia might have been a little right; Isaac was always watching you.

A blush crept up on your cheeks, but you couldn't quite believe the conclusion you were drawing here.

“Oh,”

Isaac looked down at you lying on your back. "I’m bad at this talking thing, okay?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact now.

“it’s okay” You patted the space beside you on the bed and signaled Isaac to sit or lay down. You realized it must have been pretty late, or early? You looked at your alarm clock 2:43 am; well, not too bad.

You felt the bed dip beside you as Isaac laid down on his side next to you, somehow facing you but still avoiding looking at you, fascinating.

“Thank you, Isaac." Your eyes met, and the usually confident Isaac suddenly looked everything but that.

He brushed a strand of hair out of your face with his hand. “Just let me take care of you from now on, okay?” he asked.

Okay, more than one butterfly woke up again. You nodded your head and tried to scoot closer to Isaac; instead, he wrapped his arms around you and did the work for you by pulling you in. “Will you stay?” you said as Isaac moved to sit up. “Of course, but you should change your shirt; it’s bloody.”

“You mean I should change youuur shirt?” you purred. You smiled at Isaac and pointed to your chair, where your PJs were lying. He reached over and gave you your shirt.

“Can you help me get this off?” You sat up; your side was healing. You could feel the wound closing up faster than humanly possible, but it still ached.

Isaac helped you lift your arms as little as possible as he lifted your shirt above your head.

Shivers ran down your spine, but you didn't feel uncomfortable. He helped you put your clean shirt back on and moved you to lie down with him, setting the blanket over you two.

You laid together in silence, your back pressed to Isaac’s chest; you could feel his breath on top of your head; you should sleep, but your emotions were running wild, and you didn't want this moment, these feelings, to end.

As if he could read your thoughts, Isaac said, “I’ll still be here in the morning. You can sleep.”

He kissed the top of your head, and you drifted off to sleep. Today's events were a little too much.

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Devil's night [S. R.]

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

word count: 4k

summary: Spencer is excited about his Halloween plans and you join him.

Directly based on episode 6x06, because I felt so bad about how the team behaves with Spencer that I needed to do something

“I see someone’s feeling spooky today,” Morgan smiled, looking you up and down.

You were wearing a cardigan knitted with various prints related to the time of year; pumpkins, ghosts, black cats, and candy corn, over a bright purple skirt and tall boots. Normally you would dress more formally due to the implied dress code the FBI operated under, but it was the weekend and Halloween was around the corner, so you could skip a suit day to wear one of those many scary-related items you had. After all, Halloween was your favorite holiday of the year. It was fun for everyone when you were a child, but as you grew up, your love for said celebration became a little weirder for others, so when you became an adult, you didn't think anyone shared such excitement about the date. Well, that is until you met Spencer Reid.

“It became a little more commercialized in the 1950s with trick-or-treating, and today it rivals only Christmas in terms of popularity” you heard him say, as he walked in with an already quite annoyed Emily Prentiss.

You knew that sometimes Spencer talked too much, but you hated that the rest of your coworkers got upset like that when he was talking about something that he was passionate about. Now the subject was, clearly, the next date.

"All I asked was what he was doing this weekend" she complained to Rossi. Spencer ignored her and continued with his cathedra as he settled into the empty space next to you.

“I'm toying with the notion of either going to the Edgar Allan Poe Shadow Puppet theater or the re-enactment of the XIX century Phantasmagoria,” he said and your heart did a little skip. You and Reid had argued on a few occasions, outside of work, about Poe’s works and although you didn't know what the second thing he had mentioned was, it sounded very interesting.

“What is a Phantasmagoria?” you asked nicely and when your partner noticed your presence he smiled widely, as if he was just noticing you in the room. The others all pouted in anticipation of the explanation to come and you hoped Spencer hadn't noticed.

“Phantasmagorias are these amazing pre-cinema projected ghost shows invented in France, where the showman attempted to spook the audience using science magic” he explained to you, while he took a seat and waved his hands from side to side. You were completely unaware of the term so you slightly parted your lips in astonishment.

"Sounds interesting"

"I have an extra ticket, do you want to come with me?" he asked you, almost immediately, with the biggest smile of all. Honestly, the invitation took you by surprise, especially who was asking, and Spencer seemed to see it on your face. “I mean, if you don't have plans this weekend. You can say no if you want."

“I'd really love to,” you exclaimed, so he wouldn't get the wrong idea, and watched his eyes sparkle with joy as he nodded.

The others wanted to make fun of it a bit, but Garcia didn't give them time to when she handed you the case files. When Hotch told you that you were going to fly to Detroit, your partner complained loudly and his gaze inevitably went to you, since you were supposed to have made plans together literally three minutes ago, but knowing that the unsub only attacked during these three days of the year. You had no choice but to accept your fate. You have never gone from feeling completely happy to being so disappointed in such a short time.

"I guess you better forget what I just told you," Reid sighed, as you left the conference room.

"Maybe we'll make it on time, when is the show?"

"This Sunday. The puppet theater is at 9:00 pm, the last Phantasmagoria show is at 11:00 pm. None are sold out yet"

"If we get back in time enough, I'll accompany you both, what do you say?" you muttered, trying to be as positive as possible, as you took your friend's arm with both hands and gave it a friendly squeeze. Spencer was taller than you, but thanks to the boots you were wearing and the extra inches they gave you, your eyes were almost at the level of his “Don't be discouraged.”

"I like your clothes today," he suddenly murmured. Sometimes he would give you those kinds of sweet compliments, perhaps as thanks for the kindness with which you always treated him, and you would almost always blush "The drawings are beautiful. Do you know why pumpkins became so representative?"

"Jack-o'-lantern," you replied, rather proud of yourself for knowing the answer.

"But did you know that in the original story it wasn't a pumpkin but a turnip?" he said and you were silent. But he didn't make fun of you for it, instead he saw a new opportunity to impress you "Yeah, you see, in the original legend Stingy Jack..."

The rest of the team, who was in front of you, shared knowing looks as if they were pitying you for having activated the doctor's rambling mode, but the truth was that you were fascinated with every word that came out of his mouth. Sometimes you couldn't believe how there was someone as intelligent in the world as your cute companion and as he spoke you prayed, perhaps with all your might, that you could catch the unsub in time to be able to fulfill the plans in the ones he had included for the weekend.

Almost as if by divine handiwork, the case was solved just in time for the plane to land and you two to rush home to get dressed for the theater. Hotch was even sympathetic to you and told you that the paperwork could wait for Monday just because he had heard of your plans, which you were immensely grateful for.

Spencer was happy that you agreed to go out with him, especially since the idea of asking you out was completely impulsive. It was true that he had an extra ticket but he never thought of having the courage to ask you to accompany him, much less did he think that you would be interested in it, since he was regularly ignored by his colleagues at work. It was something he had never discussed with anyone, only his beloved and gone Elle, but it haunted him almost every day.

Luckily for him, Spencer had prepared the wardrobe he wanted to wear in advance, and all he had to do was take a warm shower, shave, and put on some cream and cologne to get ready. In addition to, of course, styling his short hair as best he could.

He felt particularly concerned by his appearance that night and he pondered whether you would think he looked silly wearing a 19th century French suit. He had bought it last month and it was stored with his costume collection, which no one on the team knew about yet and he didn't intend for that to change.

He had offered to pick you up and when he got to your building, he felt strangely nervous. The doorman was a kind older man that he had seen a couple of times, so when he said that he was looking for you, the man called you on the phone to let you know.

They were silent for a few moments and he began to rock on his heels to kill some time.

“Will you take her trick-or-treating?” the doorman, Tony, joked. Spencer didn't take it the wrong way, instead he laughed it off.

"It's not the plan, but if someone takes pity on us and gives us some I won't complain" he replied and now it was the employee's turn to laugh.

"I've seen you before, are you her boyfriend?"

“Coworkers,” Spencer clarified, with a smile.

"Ah, so you're also a policeman?" although it wasn't the proper term, Spencer didn't know if you had hidden your real job for personal reasons, so he held back from explaining to the man that you were actually a profiler.

"Yes, something like that"

Tony wanted to ask more questions, but the sound of the elevator caught the attention of both men and revealed your figure.

"No fucking way," you breathed, looking your friend up and down and if he hadn't gone dumbfounded, he probably would have said the same thing "Look at you!"

"Where did you get that?" he asked in amazement. Although Spencer had thought that you would show up in a costume, he hadn't expected to see you like this. 

"You don’t like it?"

"No, I love it" he hastened to say, when he heard the insecurity in your voice "It's just… I didn't expect to see you as a 19th-century French lady"

You were wearing a beautiful black dress with lace details that obviously alluded to the fashion of the time, black satin gloves, plus a discreet hat on your well-groomed hair and boots that Reid had seen before, but they made a great combination with the outfit. The man's surprise was because he had invited you with such short notice and yet you had gotten the perfect costume and not only that, but one that conveniently matched his.

“And I didn't expect to see you as a French gentleman either” you laughed, as you reached out to wrap him in a hug "I guess it was pure fate"

“Or the fact that we are going to see a recreation of a 19th-century show. Our brains thought the same thing.”

“It doesn't sound so charming when you say it like that" you complained amused and he realized it was true "Shall we go? I don’t want to be late"

Spencer nodded and immediately offered you his arm to hold onto as you walked, a gesture that made you believe you were really entering a time tunnel.

“Enjoy your night”

"Thanks, Tony! Don't scare too many kids and don't eat too much candy,” you waved, blowing him a kiss as you followed Spencer out the door.

He guided you to his car and opened the passenger door for you and then he got in himself to start the engine and get going.

"I really can't believe that we got a couple's costume by pure coincidence"

“Couple costume?”

“Yes, they are those costumes of the same theme that you use with a couple. You know, like the people who dress up as Fred and Daphne or Morticia and Gomez”

Spencer didn't know the last couple, but he did have a vague recollection that the first ones mentioned were from Scooby Doo due to the cartoons he came from as a child.

"Oh" he sighed "Yes, get it”

“Honestly this was a last-minute thing. My downstairs neighbor studies theater and we are good friends, so I asked her if she had anything in her curiosities bag that could help me and she pulled out this dress. It was enough to adjust it a little" you told him, putting both hands on the neck of your dress and smiling from ear to ear "I couldn't believe it, it was really a stroke of luck”

"It looks so pretty on you," he said suddenly, looking away from the road just for a moment to check that you had heard him. "I don't think I told you when I saw you, but that's what I thought."

"Thank you then," you smiled, feeling your cheeks warm a little.

Spencer started talking to you about the creation of puppet theaters and, of course, the Poe stories you were going to witness, with you interrupting him only to point out some decoration along the way that you thought was cute. On Halloween you almost always preferred to stay at home to watch horror movies or go down to the hall to distribute candy to the youngest children, with very discreet costumes to avoid the evil looks of adults. But now you were excited to be doing this with Spencer, who was maybe the only person you knew who wouldn't make fun of you under any circumstances. Your relationship was based on a certain complicity, perhaps more than you had with any member of your unit.

Arriving at the site, he reopened your door and offered you his hand to help you down, which you took without complaining. Once you were outside, he repeated the gesture from when he picked you up from your building and in this way you walked to the entrance, where a woman disguised as who you assumed was Berenice (a Poe character) sold you a couple of tickets.

It was a lovely show and when you weren't looking at the puppets you took the time to admire your companion, whose eyes revealed the emotion of a child. You never thought the doctor was fond of a thing like this and now that you had discovered it you found it quite adorable. As you left you asked him if he was a Muppets fan by any chance and, to your surprise, he was. Spencer even told you that he had a couple of Kermit the Frog items that his mom bought him when he was little, but he also told you not to tell anyone or he'd be embarrassed and you pinky promised him.

You still had an hour between the two shows so you decided to go to a nearby park where there were lots of food stalls: candy apples, popcorn, candy, lemonade, and you even got to one where a Hispanic woman offered you pieces of candied pumpkin. You had to take off your gloves (which he kept carefully in his jacket) when you bought a few pieces of this last one for the two of you and when you tried it you agreed that it was delicious. The woman told you that in Mexico, her country of origin, she always served them to her children with a glass of milk.

Spencer spared no expense just to fulfill all your cravings, even though you refused, so when you got in the car to go to the Phantasmagoria your stomach was pretty full. The place where it would take place was a gray tent in the open air, with a dais in front and several wooden benches arranged so that enough people could fit in. As you had arrived with some time, you took a seat on a bench in the second row and waited patiently for the show to start.

Suddenly all the lights around you went out, leaving only the ones pointing to the front of the stage, and a presenter dressed as a magician appeared.

“For many centuries, wandering spirits have inhabited the world unseen by the human eye, always confined to the world of shadows…” his voice was mesmerizing and kept you on the edge of your seat, watching him carefully “but for a certain time of the year, their magic grows and they are able to cross the barrier that separates us…”

The entire tent was filled with smoke and the audience, including you, looked around trying to figure out what would happen. The presenter continued giving his gloomy monologue and, although you didn’t imagine how, you even felt that the temperature decreased a little with each word he said. Suddenly even the lights that were pointed at him began to dim and by the time he finished explaining to you the whole place was in complete darkness.

There was silence for a moment to build tension and then there was an explosion that made you jump in place. To tell you the truth, you didn't expect much from the show, you thought that being a recreation it would have many shortcomings, but when the first figure appeared on the roof your heart skipped a beat.

You weren't a scared person under normal circumstances and your resistance to the horrifying images you saw at work on a daily basis shows this, but this time perhaps all the environmental components of that night were what made you feel that way. A loud laugh resounded and then another pair of specters appeared, this time flying at the height of the audience and even passing through some of you.

Spencer's reaction was nothing like the rest. Despite his fear of the dark he was totally fascinated by all the images, his mind already working to decipher the magic trick that was being performed. What finally got his breath caught was the feel of your hand searching his. He was still shielding your gloves so he could feel the cool temperature of your fingers, as opposed to how warm he was in comparison. Even knowing that doing that was a reflex act due to fear, he stopped paying attention to the show to look at your hand on top of his, with that noticeable difference in size.

Just as you had admired him during the puppet show, he took the time to observe your expressions now. Your face lit up from time to time by the illusions around you and every time you startled you squeezed his hand harder, in addition to adjusting your body against his as if you were looking for some kind of protection. Spencer had gone out with friends many times and of course with the rest of his female colleagues at work, however none of them had behaved like you were doing. He wasn’t bothered by your behavior, but rather intrigued, since you seemed quite comfortable taking refuge in him to feel safe. Although he knew how to identify qualities in people, he sometimes had a hard time crossing the line of identifying them to really admire them. When he thought of JJ, he thought of a charismatic woman. When he thought of Emily, he thought of intelligence. And when he thought of Penelope, he always saw joy and optimism. But when he thought of you, there were too many qualities to focus on just one: he thought of kindness, calmness, creativity, wit, beauty, empathy... what a big heart you had and how at the end of the day you were perhaps the only one who could make him smile. When he invited you to join him, he did it because he knew you had the same feeling towards scary things, but now that you were there, looking so pretty and holding his hand tightly, he thought maybe there was something else going on between you. You were the closest thing he had to a best friend, though he had never said so verbally, and that night he wanted to be nowhere else but by your side.

Only when the lights came back on did he realize that the spectacle had been forgotten to him, since the whole time he had been looking at you.

“That was all for today, my friends. Thank you for these wonderful performances and remember to recommend us to your friends the next time we're in town. Have a spooky night, all of you."

“I can't believe it, did you see all that? It was just awesome! I didn't think it was going to be this good” you said, completely excited, as you turned in his direction. Apparently you weren't even aware that your hands were clasped until he got up from the seat and helped you imitate him with that grip. Though you thought of apologizing for that, you didn't, fearing to embarrass yourself further.

“It was amazing, even for me it was hard to figure out the trick”

“Why do you want to figure it out? admit it's only magic, doctor. Sometimes life is” you laughed, grabbing his arm for the third time like a happy wife would her husband.

You are something magical, he thought, with the words on the tip of his tongue, but not daring to say them to you. 

Although the night was late, the movement in the streets was still the same and Spencer considered asking if you wanted to go somewhere else, but the yawn that escaped you made him think that the best thing for both of us would be to go home to rest. After all, the case had exhausted you.

"Back to your house, right?" he asked, just to be sure and you nodded with a smile.

The road wasn’t long, you only had to take care of the naughty at night so as not to receive any damage, so when you least expected it, you were already in front of your building. Although you intended to say goodbye, Spencer told you that he would accompany you to the door of your apartment just to make sure that you arrived completely safely, because he knew better than anyone how much could happen to a woman alone, even if it was such a short journey, and he didn't want to risk you. Tony was still awake and greeted you nicely as you walked in, so you could then get on the elevator and press the necessary button.

“I seriously have no words to thank you for today, Spencer. Except for that one time I ended up in the hospital for eating so much candy, this has been my best Halloween ever,” you admitted with a laugh, as you leaned in for a big hug.

"Thank you for accompanying me. I'm really glad you had fun, because I had a great time too”

There was a dead space between you, in which you just looked at each other with a smile. It wasn't an exaggeration to say that the night had been wonderful and maybe it was just that you two were trying to drag it out as long as possible.

“Spencer”

"Yeah?"

"Before you go, can I ask you something?"

"Whatever" he responded immediately. He got a little nervous thinking that he wouldn't be able to satisfy your curiosity by ignoring the topic you were going to ask him about and hoped that wasn't the case.

You waited another second before speaking.

"How frowned upon do you think it was for 1800s society for a woman to steal a kiss from her companion?"

Spencer's eyes danced a little in his sockets and you thought he was processing your request in disguise, until he looked at you again and spoke with complete assurance:

“Very frowned upon, surely. At that time, it was usual for men to court women, who were very repressed from making their own decisions or living their sexuality as they pleased. A woman who kissed a man was considered indecent."

You wanted to correct him, tease him or, as a last resort, simply pull him by his shirt and plant the kiss you had wanted to give him all the way. But you didn't do any of that, you just laughed softly and enjoyed his smirk for telling you the right answer.

“I was afraid of that. It's good to know” said this, you carefully approached him and placed a small kiss on his cheek, seeing him slightly surprised by the act “See you tomorrow at work. Call me when you get home”

"I will do that. Rest and see you later"

"Bye”

Just as he said, he called you a few minutes later to announce that he had arrived at his destination so you could sleep peacefully.

Spencer didn't realize that you had explicitly asked for a kiss until Morgan told him and while his friend laughed, he felt like the luckiest guy of all and, at the same time, the dumbest.

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

[junityy]

love letters

pairing. bf!jay x gn!reader

synopsis. in which jay reads your first, unfinished attempt at writing a love letter for him by accident.

genre. fluff

wc. 1k

"I'm back!" you exclaim as you close the door behind you with your foot; unable to use either one of your hands since they're both carrying the grocery bag in your arms, which you didn't even think would be this heavy. Well, you might've gone a little overboard when trying to decide what snacks would be best for tonight; so that'd explain it, at least.

Finally putting the bag on the kitchen counter after the way back here felt like seven years, - when in reality, it was barely ten minutes - you sigh loudly in pure relief.

"Jay?" your voice's tainted with a little confusion; you didn't get any response like you thought you would. Leaving the keys right beside the bag on the counter, you make your way to your bedroom to see what he's up to.

"Hey, I got all the snacks for our-" you pause, and your jaw even drops the tiniest bit when you see Jay sitting on the bed while holding a single piece of paper and, what looks like, reading it. ".. movie night." finishing your sentence, - way quieter than you had started it - Jay finally looks up and meets your eyes.

"Oh I didn't hear you, love." he briefly explains, eyes big as he realizes he didn't hear you coming through the door, nor that you were talking to him just about thirty seconds ago.

"What are you reading?" you ask in a small voice with a slightly nervous undertone, since the paper seems to look a little too familiar for it to be in Jay's hands.. yet. Even from afar.

"Oh- this. Yeah, I found this on the desk earlier. I almost threw it away, but then I saw that it was addressed to me. Y/N is this a love letter?" Jay explains and asks with a tiny smile on his face, sounding only a tad bit confused about the paper in his hands.

And when your eyes widen, his eyes flicker between you and the paper in even bigger confusion and his yet so tiny smile fades. "What?" he asks innocently, eyes big as your reaction makes him feel slightly concerned.

"You weren't supposed to read that." you frown a bit, ready to drown yourself in embarrassment any second now. ".. yet." you almost forgot, but this only made his curiosity grow.

"Oh, this is embarrassing." you mumble to yourself as you walk up to the bed, sitting down in front of him, while his eyes are basically glued to you the whole time.

"I, uhm, couldn't really sleep last night, and then I remembered that you briefly mentioned how you adore love letters a few hours prior." you begin to explain, not even realizing how you're actively avoiding looking at him. "And then I realized that I never wrote you one, like, ever. During all the time we've been together." you add, still a bit saddened by the fact that he never received one from you.

"And so- I got up and.. tried to write one. It's not finished, though. And I thought I put it away, but apparently not.." you continue to explain, shrugging towards the end when you realize you clearly didn't put it away. Writing it at about four in the morning must have made you so tired, you went straight back to bed without noticing it was still on the desk - open for anyone to see and read.

Finally, you look up and meet Jay's eyes. And well, he looks rather surprised, a little shocked even - in a good way, so you assume. His jaw might have dropped just the tiniest bit, and his eyes have not left you still, but now they look even bigger instead.

"I've never written one, like.. in my life." is the last thing you add - as a way to defend yourself in case it was somehow bad by any means; since, well, you barely remember what you even wrote last night.

"I love you." Jay simply scoffs in disbelief, clearly realizing by your change of expression that this is not quite the reaction you were expecting. But still, you're not complaining - hearing him say those three words makes your heartbeat increase an embarrassing amount, like when you first met him and could barely say a word.

And even now, after over two years, you're left speechless again. And so of course, Jay can't help but chuckle; softly grabbing you by the chin to pull you in closer for a short kiss just a second later.

God. You really do feel like when you first met with the way you still get butterflies around him - more and more each day.

"Your letter was beautiful, my love." is the very first thing he says in a low tone after the kiss, your faces still dangerously close and his hand still touching your chin. "I loved it." he adds with a smile, trying to justify just how much he fell in love with those words you wrote. But saying 'he loved it' doesn't seem to be nearly enough.

"I love you." you return, the big smile forming on your face almost impossible to overhear in your voice. Immediately pressing your lips onto his yet again, Jay can't help but smile into the kiss when he can feel you doing so.

"Wait." he suddenly says, breaking the kiss after not too long; your smile fades and confusion overtakes you instead, while Jay's smile only grows bigger by the second.

Sitting straight again, you watch Jay reach down to one of the drawers in the bedside desk, looking for something. When he finds it, he sits straight again and closes the drawer again.

And when your eyes go down to see what's in his hands, you see that it's a bunch of papers just like yours. Except they have much more written on every single one of them; beginning to end of the page, they're full with texts.

Compared to yours, though, every single one of them has a date written at the top.

And instead of being addressed to Jay, they're all addressed to you. Every last one of them.

Your jaw actually drops at the sudden realization, and immediately your head shoots back up - only to find an even bigger smile on Jay's face now. He chuckles at your reaction as it's adorable to him. And also at the fact that he just pulled all these out at once.

"I wrote you a bunch over the years."

note. JUNITYYS FIRST EVER WORK AFTER NOVEMBER 2021 and ofc its jay 😭😭😭 so hello again! not sure just How back i am again but i wanna try and write more again!! (just keep in mind that i WILL 99% still be inconsistent as hell and just post much Much random stuff please, thank you 😸🙏🏻) - also i hope this drabble layout is somewhat fine LMFAO i forgot how you do all this and also tumblr is acting up </3

taglist @tyunni @geombyu @jaeyunverse