#seriously this got away from me so fast. did not mean to write a whole sequel fic but here i am

[peachhcs]

I’ve seen so many posts of the whole “Quinn rips off jacks braces” You should totally write it in 😭 or something similar with the other siblings

that’s such chaos from them honestly HAHA i don’t exactly know how it happened that led to quinn doing that so i’m just gonna make something up. also how do u just rip braces off of someone’s face?? like wont that hurt 😭

au masterlist

“samy, up here!” jack called as he chased after his sister with the puck. luke and quinn were hot on their tails trying to take the puck back in their possession. the youngest hughes passed it up to her brother who evaded quinn’s advances.

the middle hughes skated right around luke to send it into the back of the net. he glided towards samy exchanging excited high fives for scoring another goal.

quinn, however, wasn’t too pleased. the four had been playing for almost two hours now and samy and jack had acquired quite a lead on the their brothers.

“that wasn’t fair!” the oldest hughes finally snapped.

“what do you mean that wasn’t fair? you were guarding the goal,” jack protested.

“you’ve been cheating this whole game and it’s pissing me off,” quinn threw his stick down in anger.

“what do you mean cheating? no we haven’t,” jack grew confused and glanced at samy who only shrugged.

“whatever. i’m over this. this isn’t fun anymore,” quinn shook his head.

“oh come on, q-ball. it’s just a game. i didn’t even know we were taking this seriously,” jack laughed and picked up his brother’s stick.

whatever mood quinn was in made jack’s words frustrate the older boy even more. he spun around and practically lurched at the middle siblings while the other two jumped back.

“you’ve been pissing me off all freaking day! first it was eating all my cereal, second it was making me clean our bathroom and now it’s you being all arrogant and i’ve had it up to here with you!” quinn yelled and tackled jack to the ground.

the boys started physically fighting. samy and luke watched in horror as their brothers started punching each other to the point that they were screaming. quinn’s anger got the best of him and he started going for jack’s braces.

quite literally with his bare hands, the older boy ripped them right off his teeth. the plastic bands popped everywhere when he tugged the wires out. jack was screaming and trying to push quinn off of him.

“quinn! quit it!” samy yelled at her older brother because he was seriously scaring her when jack started crying because of the cold and quinn punching him.

luke and samy finally tried pulling the older boy off of jack. quinn fell to the side and jack scooted away, tears running hot down his face.

“dude, what the hell!” jack yelled when he realized quinn pulled both wires out of his mouth.

quinn sat there a bit dumbfounded and shocked that he even did that. the four siblings stood there in shock of one another until jack finally got up and ran to the house to tell their parents. samy and luke didn’t know what to do besides leave quinn on the ice as they followed after jack.

“mom!” jack screamed as soon as he was inside that startled both of his parents. they came running to where their son was as samy and luke made it inside.

“jack? what’s wrong? what happened?” ellen saw his tears and the slight bruise forming on his cheek.

“quinn pulled my braces out!” the middle boy exclaimed. ellen and jim gasped as ellen grabbed his face to examine the damage.

“why did he do that? where is he?” jim quickly asked when he realized the older boy hadn’t come in.

“he just freaked out on us and started fighting me,” jack cried but at least he wasn’t bleeding or anything.

“and what were you guys doing?” jim pointed to the younger two who just stood in the doorway watching the whole thing.

“standing there watching. we didn’t know what to do,” luke said.

“i’ll go talk to him,” jim mumbled when he saw quinn still outside. ellen went to call the orthodontist to see what they could do and how fast they could get jack in to fix his braces.

“not gonna lie, after it was scary, it was kind of funny,” luke mumbled quietly. samy eyed him and jack rolled his eyes.

“of course you would think it’s funny,” jack shook his head and went to go examine his other bruises.

“what? it’s funny now. we can laugh about this in like ten years,” luke shrugged.

“only you would say that,” samy threw her jacket off and disappeared further into the house. the younger brother just shrugged and followed after her.

it was safe to say quinn was grounded for two weeks for pulling that stunt and jack got his braces fixed the next day.

[the-terrible-theys]

⚠️ spoilers for last laugh below btw if you haven’t read it

tonight i am thinking about niles’ first holidays Without miles. the first new year’s eve in years that he spends alone in his room—just like he always used to before miles came into his life. it’s a routine that should feel familiar, but instead leaves him with a hollow ache in his chest. he’s grown a little too fond of and a little too accustomed to spending the night at the murphys’, to participating in their traditions. it’s strange to be without that, tonight. it’s something that never used to bother him, but now, it’s strange to be alone. everything felt different, when miles left, and everything continues to feel so, even after so many months.

the party his parents are holding downstairs is loud enough to hear even over the songs niles has playing from his radio, and it’s hard to focus on his book when strangers keep shouting the time—thirty minutes to midnight, twenty minutes, fifteen, ten. niles gives up on his reading and goes instead to his window. the low lighting of his room doesn’t create much of a reflection on the glass, and so he can see each distant firework with perfect clarity. the crowd downstairs continues to shout numbers: seven minutes, six, five. the window is cold where he leans his temple against it.

at the two minute mark, his phone rings.

he nearly tips a stack of biographies in his hurry to cross the room. he finds himself answering without even registering the caller id.

on the other end of the line, his best friend’s voice greets him back warmly. and just like that, niles feels all the loneliness seep out of him, out of the room, out of the night.

miles starts going on about how he would’ve called sooner if not for a “cupcake incident”, and then judy murphy’s voice rings in the background, telling miles to put the phone on speaker. niles hears the telltale click of the lighter followed by the hiss of two sparklers, a tradition he’s grown familiar with.

niles makes his way back over to the window. bursts of color erupt from over the hills, echoing faintly. the party downstairs is louder than ever, but niles is only focusing on the countdown miles has started over the crackling phone line—“twenty-eight, twenty-seven, twenty-six—”

on his windowsill is a lighter and an opened pack of sparklers. he sets the phone down next to them and turns it to speaker so that he can have both hands free. niles joins in on the count—“twenty, nineteen, eighteen”—as his now-practiced fingers slip a sparkler from the pack and ignite the lighter with only minimal struggle.

his stick bursts into light as they chant in sync, he and miles, with ms murphy right there in the background. their voices raise as the seconds tick by—“eleven, ten, nine!”

the shouts from downstairs grow in volume, too, but they feel far away and oddly off-beat. niles doesn’t pay them mind. he holds the phone closer to his ear with one hand and holds his sparkler out with the other. it glows captivatingly bright in comparison to the faint lamplight of his room. the tepid heat it puts off somehow feels consuming; his very heart is swaddled in warmth, it seems. and he knows it’s because of his best friend’s exuberant chant ringing across the line.

the final numbers are a dizzying blend of deja vu and newness. a fleeting thought crosses his mind, of how it’s funny how different all the years end up being, even when they all end in similar ways. niles doesn’t have the time to linger on it, though, and adrenaline sweeps it out of mind as he calls out the last seconds.

he and miles yell “ZERO!!!” in the same instant, loud enough to make the phone echo oddly for a long moment, jumbling their subsequent shouts of “HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

it’s chaotic and warm, and it’s different—like everything has been since miles left—but it’s still good. he still has this little tradition, and he still has many years of knowing his best friend to look forward to. it’s different, but it’s also just the start of something new.

thinking about miles murphy and niles sparks celebrating new years together.

niles riding his bike to miles’ house that evening, judy murphy insisting he have dinner with them. she makes one of niles’ favorite meals because she knows he’d be coming over and she goddamn loves this boy, and niles damn near cries over it. this is the first new years niles can remember that he’s spent doing anything other than sitting by himself in his room with his nose in a book, avoiding the annual new years party his parents always have going downstairs. (it was never as if he was banished to his room or anything, of course. niles has always been free to join everyone downstairs if he pleases. it’s just that it’s always loud and there’s always too many people and he barely knows any of them and no one there is anywhere near his age and there’s a certain awkwardness to being the only kid at a party for adults, and. just less overwhelming to keep to himself.)

judy has to leave because she works odd hours as a nurse, and as disappointed as she is that she couldn’t get the rest of the night off to spend with her son, she’s equally glad that miles won’t be spending the night by himself. miles has niles. she leaves them with matching hair ruffles and a pack of sparklers and a “be careful, i mean it, call me right away if anything happens, love you”.

miles and niles leave with an hour ‘til midnight, ride their bikes side-by-side through the dark, reach the top of the hill that holds their carefully selected firework watching spot (they’d spent the previous couple of days scouting out potential spots and choosing between those for the best possible view) with twenty minutes to spare. niles slings off his backpack and pulls out a bottle of faux-alcoholic sparkling apple juice. miles has never had sparkling apple juice before. they drink it from paper cups. miles decides he does not like sparkling apple juice. niles likes it even though it tastes like shit.

they pull out their sparklers, prepare to light them up as soon as the clock hits midnight. this is a tradition miles has held with his mom for many years. he’s glad to have a second person to share this with. he’s glad that that person is niles. niles starts whispering the countdown in time with his watch, and miles’ practiced hands light his own sparkler with ease as they shout the final seconds. niles fumbles with the lighter, can’t get the stupid stick to work right, so miles puts his hand over his friend’s to guide the lighter. niles finds himself getting distracted by the way the sparks look reflected in miles’ eyes, almost loses count. his own sparkler catches right as they yell ZERO!! and, oh, they both feel so alive. fireworks go off all around them in brilliant bursts of color and sound, and they’re waving their sparklers high in mimicry, and their breath clouds in the cold air, and this is the best new years eve that niles sparks has ever had. this is the best year he’s ever had. and that’s all because of miles.

they—niles and miles, both—look forward to annual repeats of old traditions, to starting new ones. to more years together, and more ends of years together, and more togetherness in general. it’s the best new years eve either of them have ever had.

[nlovesbjh]

꒰ 마크 ꒱ ── cherry beer 𖥔 synopsis. . . mark would've never guessed that he'd spend his free time on some college party making out with a pretty girl

𝑛𝑒𝑟𝑑 마크 ／ reader ៸៸ college au suggestive ⟡ ⌢ . making out drinking mark loves ass now is playing! . . cherry bomb by nct 127

𝑚𝑎𝑖𝑙 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝒩. im so obsessed with mark the past week guys this is getting out of hand so i had to write it. also not proofread and everything is happening super fast in this im sorry lol

mark wasn't used to be in a place like this, he wasn't a party typa guy at all to say at least, but there he was. he could spend friday night to study and maybe produce something for his next class, but his friends wanted him to go to that frat party so bad, they were annoying him for the whole week. now he was sitting on the couch, his ears hurting from the shitty music those frat guys were playing, couple that sat right next to him were touching each other and he almost spilled his drink on him. fucking perfect.

"hey, why are you here?" donghyuck comes to him from behind, wrapping a hand around his friends shoulder. why the fuck is he asking that, he was literally the one who drugged him there and then left to go get drunk with some girls that won't even look ar him for once. mark was annoyed. he could be in his room, watching new episode of his favorite show, but no. it was all donghyuck and jisung's fault.

"because you left me to get some pussy?" mark rolled his eyes, running a hand through his hair when he stood up. he followed donghyuk even if he was mad at him, there was nothing else to do at that shitty party anyway.

"hold on a minute, you were the one who said you'd be somewhere in the house not wanting to talk to girls…"

"because they do not care about you or me. dude, you seriously think those girls, looking like they just came from 'mean girls' movie would care about you?" mark chuckles at his friend's naivety. that was just stupid of him thinking that they care. "have you seen how they were all over jeno? and now they're probably having a threesome or something.."

"gosh, why are you like that?"

"like what? not blind of someone's pretty facade that they built just to get rid of the nerds like us?" mark leaned back on the wall when they got outside, breathing deeply. fresh air helped him feel better, he wasn't feeling that bad now after he finally left that crowded room that smells like alcohol and sweat. nasty.

"you're too serious," donghyuck took a sip from his drink and waved him off before he walked away. mark saw jisung smoking at the backyard with some stoner guys from the campus he saw before a few times. obviously hyuck went there to get high like it would bring some fun into this event.

mark was staring at his phone, scrolling through his discord chat with other friends, seeing they were playing minecraft. he would play it too if he wasn't there. he couldn't leave this house without hyuck and jisung though, he wasn't a shitty friend after all. they were drunk and high and he didn't want anything to happen to them.

he didn't hear when the door opened and only when someone quite literally bumped into him and almost fell, he saw you. his phone almost slipped from his hand, but that didn't matter now. mark's hands quickly wrapped around your waist, holding you in place so you wouldn't fall on the ground. "yo, are you alright?"

"yeah, thanks." you nodded, looking up to see who saved you from falling. trying your best to get your hair out of your face, you saw mark. you knew him because you shared one class together when you both were on your freshman year, after that you were only looking at him from time to time at campus. or in cafeteria. or when he was ordering his coffee in the morning before classes at the same coffee shop you always went to. "im bad at drinking, had one fucking beer and can't stand straight already.."

"why did you drink then?" mark asked. his hands still were on your waist, holding you in place with a gentle grip. he looked at you, searching your face and eyes, something about you were super familiar but he couldn't quite understand what. like he saw you somewhere before. and you were pretty. mark's gaze dropped to your lips, lip gloss looked so shiny he was wondering how'd it taste and how'd your lips look all swollen and messy… what the hell? why was he thinking with his dick right now, that's not mark lee. something about you just brought this side of him out and he couldn't help it. so stupid.

"because this party is fucking boring!" you rolled your eyes as you heard mark's question. in all honesty you came to this party to have fun and relax after a stressful week of studies and maybe hookup with someone, but music was shitty, guys were ugly and your friends decided to get high for some reason and you weren't feeling like it. you drank one cherry flavored beer and since you're not good with alcohol, it was enough for you to go outside to get some fresh air before you could've done or said anything weird that you'd regret later. "aren't you bored, mark? that's why you're outside, yeah?"

"how do you know my name?" mark's eyes widened slightly, now he tried so hard to remember where he could possibly see you that you even know his name. you. hot girl in those fucking jeans that were hugging your ass perfectly and low cut top, he felt like he was in some teenage movie where a popular cheerleader girl allowed a nerd like him to touch her and there'd be happy ending where they ended up together or something. some stupid shit his cousin would probably watch.

"we had art class together a few years ago, you sat right infront of me and i couldn't see half of the desk because of your big head," you explained, standing straight and making sure your hair and outfit looked presentable. even though you weren't about to fall anymore, you didn't want to escape from mark's grip on your waist. you didn't want him to let go either, it also seemed like he forgot that he was touching you.

"oh! sorry dude, my bad.. um," he finally let go of your waist, making you pout slightly which he didn't notice. his hand comes to the back of his neck as he rubs it awkwardly. "how'd you still remember me?"

"can't say i didn't like that big head of yours covering the view, so i asked your friend… ugh, what's his name?" you genuinely couldn't remember the name of the guy that you asked for mark's name. he looked like he was about to cry back then when you came up to him. "the emo looking kid."

"jisung."

"i guess? whatever. i asked him for your name, poor boy looked like he was about to piss himself." you both chuckle.

"wait, you asked for my name? why?"

"you're cute," you shrugged, looking up at him. the distance between you two was small, you could smell the mix of perfume and alcohol coming from him, his hair looked soft and the only thing you wanted to do right now was run your hands through it while you kiss him, leaving him all breathless and shy. "the reason why i haven't talked to you since then is because i thought you were too busy studying.."

"too busy for what?" mark interrupted you, his cheeks now flashed slight red as he noticed your gaze on him. and when you called him cute.. he just had to believe you, there was no sign that you were lying or anything like that, he thought you'd never make fun of him too. just felt right.

"dating? fucking? not sure."

"you wanted to fuck me?!" mark was shocked, he almost yelled so you had to cover his mouth with your hand to shut him up so nobody would look at you two.

"shut up, idiot. gosh, why are you so pathetic, that's hot.." you truly didn't mean for the second sentence to come out of your mouth, but by the look in mark's eyes you could tell he was more shocked and confused now. you put your hand down, clearing your throat as you looked away. "still do, by the way."

"what?"

"still wanna fuck you, mark."

oh, he wasn't expecting that. what was he supposed to do? or say? maybe he just needs to shut up and stay there quietly and wait before you say something? there was a lot of thoughts in his head, gaze flicking from your face to your boobs. yeah, he was still thinking with his dick.

"wanna make out?"

"what?!"

"are you deaf or something?" you rolled your eyes at him once again, turning your head to look at him and wait for his answer. yeah, you liked mark. he was cute, awkward and oh damn you loved nerds and he was the hot one, obviously you wanted to make out because you were at this party for that at the first place. and you were a little drunk, so why not? "if you won't answer i'll just kiss you.."

"i want to," mark swallowed hard, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath before looking down at you. "what do i do?"

"oh my god, mark! have you ever kissed a girl in your life?" one of your hands wrapped around his shoulder while other comes to the back of his neck to bring his face closer to yours. you couldn't wait, your mouth quickly covering his, tasting a strong taste of beer on his lips. mark closed his eyes, standing there and letting you do all the work. he didn't even know where to put his hands, honestly. he was afraid you wouldn't like him touching you even though you two were kissing. and he still couldn't remember your name. fuck.

you pulled away, taking a breath before smiling at him. your smile was so pretty, mark could've sworn he almost faint. "you can touch me, i can tell you want to touch my ass."

"are you s-serious?"

"cute." was the only thing you've said when you pulled him for another kiss. the hand on his shoulder slipped down his arm and you brought his hand to your ass, mark's eyes widened and he almost moaned into the kiss, opening his mouth slightly more so you could slide your tongue inside. the wet sound of your messy kiss was making mark's head spin, his other hand moving up to your waist as he pressed his back to the house's wall. the contrast between your hot body, warm lips against his and the coldness against his back was definitely doing something to him.

mark felt kinda bad though. he liked kissing you, liked knowing that you were attracted to him, who wouldn't be happy if they were him? you — pretty girl from his university, hot as fuck as we speak, were attracted to some nerd like him? what a fucking win. he loved touching your ass too, it just felt right. so soft comparing to the rough fabric of your jeans, fits perfectly in his hand. but he still couldn't remember your name. he didn't want to become one of those jerks who's fucking a cute girl without even knowing her name and then leaving. yeah, you two weren't even fucking, but kissing you was nice and he liked that cherry beer flavor on your tongue when you licked his lower lip. so fucking hot.

he couldn't believe a girl like you could possibly like someone like him and that was one of the reasons why he didn't want to let go without remembering who you were. he wanted to take on a date? yeah. date you? maybe. damn, he doesn't even know you, but for him that was literally the last thing that matters right now. your lips were soft, the way your hands run through his hair and pulled them slightly… oh shit. when he felt your lips on his neck, teeth rubbing his gentle skin slightly as you pressed more kisses down his neck, mark was gone. down bad. in that moment he was pretty sure he wanted you all to himself and that right now he was the luckiest man alive.

"what's your name?" he choked out between kisses you shared, eyes still closed and his hand still squeezing your ass. you chuckled, finding his behavior adorable.

"y/n."

taglist: @spacejip @peterm4rker

[bowieandqueen11]

Sanji With A Clingy Reader Would Include...

Request: OH BABY telling about one piece is like unlocking a whole second heart of mine i have fully for that anime and manga and live action. and so, if you ever decided of course, you writing something similar to something you did on marvel once and sanji with reader that has no personal space and is touchy would be amazing. but also... kissing zoro is great to, if you ever decided? anyway! HOPE YOU LOVE IT (one piece i mean), and if not ignore me UwU

Ooh yess babes this is so SWEET!! :3 I LOVED IT omg hello to my latest obsession not me ordering the first collection of the manga

This was really sweet and fun to do, but I did stay up all night writing it so all comments are much appreciated!

Warning: slightly spicy, some mentions of fighting!

(I do not own One Piece or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @fanpageknight.)

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°

Look at this man. Seriously, look at this man with his little bottom lip bite and eyes like the sun shines heavily out of them and tell me he would be anything less than absolutely madly, heart wrenchingly, soul crushingly enthralled with a clingy reader??? That's right you can't take the l on this one.

It all started that day when the three of you ended up shipwrecked on that sad sack excuse of a rock. When you and Sanji huddled on one side of the forsaken isle to stay away from the terrifying Pirate Zeff. His hands had shaken as he drew them up to his chest, but he mustered the nerves to string open the sack Zeff had thrown at his feet. Once he had counted out the cans, he offered all the food to you.

He wanted you to stay alive far more than himself. Ever since you had landed on his ship he had been smitten, and his weary heart would beat its last under this smothering sun as long as you would live on for the both of them.

To keep him calm: to stop his gasping, tortured heaves as he tried his best not to writhe in panic at the thought of never stepping back on safe land again, you would spent most of those 85 days sitting over the cragged edges. Sanji couldn't tear his eyes away from peering down at the gushing shards of stone below that seemed to rip up in tides and tear for his swinging feet; to try and distract him from sniffling any longer, your hand would tentatively creep over the rock until it landed flatly, and unceremoniously on top of his own. His fingers flexed beneath your own, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he folded them upwards, giving your hand a shaking squeeze: a dutiful promise, a flitting confession of love, that you just happened not to feel in your ruminations of the circumstances.

In fact, he asked you that night, in an uncharacteristically quiet and bashful voice, if you would keep his nightmares away by holding him like his mother used to. You felt terrible: you were so stunned that for a moment you stood with the last piece of mouldy bread you had in your hand in shocked silence. Poor Sanji thought you were about to reject him outright: throw what little he had left of his heart - that he had so carefully lifted out and placed in his hands to offer to you, only to have it thrown back to his feet in the usual ridicule he got for his love. His bottom lip began to tremble, until you nearly knocked him onto his bottom with how fast you dropped everything and flew over to lock him in a tight hug, not minding the fact that your shoulder was growing wetter and wetter despite the brewing rain each time Sanji buried his snivelling head against it.

So you would let him rest safely in the bracket of your arms: his left cheek resting in the warm stretch between your collar bone and your neck, his right hand draped leisurely around your waist as you told him stories of pirates and treasure: of the Deep Blue and tropical fish that shone like bursts of fragmented starlight every time their fins graced the water. Although he would groan any time you removed your hand from where you were stroking the wet strands of his hair back from his forehead, it was quickly replaced with wonderment as you would point up at a cluster of stars and whisper excitedly: 'look, there's some now!'

He had never been afraid of nights ever since that moment, not when the stars were still out and he could trace with the butt of his cigarettes the fish you had drawn specially for him in the skies. It was like a secret message: a lover's reminder that he was never alone. That you were always with him. That your beauty - your light, it shone everywhere, no matter where he was.

It was the first time he had kissed you, two forgotten children lost underneath the dripping crevice of your little hideaway. As your belly began to rise and fall underneath his elbow, and he believed you had exhausted yourself out after trying to make him feel better, he dared to dart up from your shoulder and press his lips firmly against your cheek. It had been quick, almost gliding past time like a dolphin leaping up out of the water, but it had meant so much to him that he curled up into a ball in your side and flushed a bright cerise, having to shove his fist into his mouth to stop his manic giggling from waking you up.

But you weren't asleep, and as Sanji settled back into your neck with a smile bright enough to rival the shine of buttercup petals, you swore as he began to drift off in the first peaceful dream he had had in years that one day you would return the favour, but in full.

The two of you were thick as thieves growing up, to the point where Zeff became so distracted by your antics that he often tried to separate the two of you by making you work the floor and Sanji either in the kitchens, or off fishing at the docks. Ten seconds later though, he'd be kicking through the kitchen doors again to find you leaning on the kitchen counter next to an eager faced Sanji, whose to busy to register Zeff's shouting. Instead he places the spoon to your lips, having spent half of lunch service prep cooking you a brand new recipe he had spent the whole night creating out of a medley of your favourite foods. He subconsciously licks his bottom lip, the tension in the room felt by the other chefs who try to carry on washing pans and cutting vegetables enough to put everyone on edge as Sanji refused to look anywhere but your lips. Holding his hand under your chin, his dipped eyes were broken by a sudden grin as a loud 'mmhhh' left your mouth and you chewed in sweet bliss.

Still ignoring Zeff's increasingly erratic rant, as Sanji goes to start cleaning up his pan you slide down to stand behind him, wrapping your arms tightly around your back and jutting your chin into his shoulder blade like a baby koala. You can tell he's laughing silently by the way his shoulders shake against you, but all he does is pull up your hand from his belly button to press sweet, dainty kisses up and down the lengths of your fingers, before dropping it down to press your palm flatly against his heart.

'I think that might be your greatest dish yet, buttercup!'

'From you, that means everything my precious heart.'

'Why do you call me that?', you murmur, refusing to lift your lips from his shirt.

'Well my sweet love, why do you call me buttercup? I mean, I always know I smell of butter and the likes-'.

He's distracted by your snort against the side of his neck, but the two of you are too love-strikingly embarrassed to say anything again. Even if neither of you could see the warm peach rushing up both your cheeks, Zeff could. He could also hear the padding thuds of Sanji's heart as he gripped his fingers that almost imperceptibly bit tighter around your hand, and he found himself sighing at how oblivious you two idiots were.

Sanji is definitely just as clingy as you, if not more so. You've definitely met your match in this man. I mean, any time you're out on the floor, handing out bread to tables and scanning the room to check if there were any patrons you may have to throw out by the scuff of their collars later, his eyes are trained on yours. He leans against the banisters, not even trying to remotely hide how obviously he's tracing your path with a dumbstruck, lit up smile. If you're in the kitchens, desperately trying to bite your tongue and not tear Zeff a new one as he chops his hands together and rushes you to plate up? He's sliding up to your side in an instant, throwing scathing looks at the man while trying to help you spoon thyme onto your bass, nuzzling the side of his head into yours encouragingly. If you have any free time at all? Sanji is fast on your heels, darting after you like someone's firing shots at his dress shoes, as if you have his heart tied to a string on your wrist as he seeks out whatever nook you're going to relax in. It doesn't matter if you're at the bar, watching the docks, or trying to hide from Zeff in one of the cupboards in the pantry: Sanji is squatting down and grunting as he shoves himself in right next to you. He sits criss cross, only satisfied when at least one of his knees is resting heavily over yours, and he has full access to watch what you're reading over the side of your neck.

He only fully settles, though, if you touch him in some way. He genuinely will begin mewling once your hand reaches over to brush your knuckles over his jawline, or your hand finds itself guided to bunch itself up in his hair. One time, he guided your hand into his lap, and you began to absentmindedly stroke your pointer finger along the seam of his inner thigh. Thank goodness you had your head buried in a book one of the pirate crews had come to swap some dried meats with you for, because it took every muscle in Sanji's body twitching: every finger clenching and unclenching into his knee until he drew blood not to knock you flat right there and then and kiss you like there was no tomorrow.

He gets a MASSIVE nosebleed - so gushing, in fact, that he tries to reassure you he's fine as you hold him by the elbows and lead his tilted back head and pinched nose down to Zeff for some help.

It becomes a very major recurring issue every time he looks at you. He makes sure to carry a handkerchief in his breast pocket from then on.

God, if he didn't love you more than anything in all the seas. If you weren't the only one that he let see past his charming nature: if you weren't the only person left in his life that truly could recognise the young boy left in his eyes, in his gait, in his smile, in his dreams. That little kid on that great big ship, the one who had found you stowed away behind one of the barrels of rum, and instead of calling for the crew had taken your trembling hand and led you into the kitchens, introducing you as his newest sous chef. That same kid, who stood beside you and held your hand so gently, so heartbreakingly gently under his as he guided you through lessons of chopping onions and sautéing garlic, breaking out into long strings of rushed, praising French every time you got it right. The same one, who would frown as if he were the one who had been hurt any time you burnt your hands or sliced your fingers. Who would unravel the knot at the back of his apron, and tug it over his head to carefully place it over yours.

'This always brings me luck', he would say as his fingers daintily tucked the strings underneath your shirt collar. 'But I don't need it anymore, because you've brought me all the luck and happiness a man could ever dream of, my cherie.'

The same kid who would tip toe out of his bed to sneak down to your hammock, crawling in and burying himself underneath your blankets where you slept in the brig, telling you fantastical stories about his mother until you fell sound asleep. He would watch you from where he lay on his side, hands folded by your head, as if you had hung every star in the wide skies. He would brush his fingers over the edge of your cheek and curl up beside you, wishing that every minute of every day of the rest of his life could be spent with you.

Yeah, smitten wasn't enough to cover it. Only destiny could be raw enough to draw the two of you to each other, Sanji always thought.

As teenagers, you would end every shift outside, sitting on the wonky boards of one of the jutted docks. Just sitting side by side, as you always wanted to be, pretending you weren't playing a game of chicken as the two of you teased and pressed and glanced your fingers over each other's, leaning back and looking up at the stars. Sanji always appreciated the better chance it gave him: shrouded in naught by wisps of moonlight and the rare flashing neon of ship string lights, to take you in as much as he could. You didn't mind the fact that he spent the whole time staring over at you. In fact, if you hadn't been so lovestruck, you might have found the courage to tear your head away from the horizon to meet the look of gut-wrenching devotion that always seemed to pour out of his eyes and beam only on you. It always felt like warm sunlight, sitting next to him, and so you finally dared a chance at grabbing his fingers and intertwining them between your own, pretending it was because of the sea chill spraying a fine mist over your legs.

Again, the squeeze he gave your hand was almost, almost imperceptible, but you felt it this time. And you could feel the look of enduring devotion he pierced into your skin, a warm tingle washing like a spring tide through your tired body.

He always knew. He always knew that if he had stayed on that rock, he would have been content to. Happy, even. Because he would have been with you.

'I love you', he said without words. He gave your hand another squeeze. 'I'm going to love you forever. No matter how many lifetimes. No matter who I am. I'm always going to find you, and I'm always going to love you.'

His voice nearly made you jump, surprising you at how it started with his usual buttery smoothness, before cracking with a thick gulp as his words trailed of. 'Never leave without me.'

'I promise, as long as you don't leave without me.'

He shakes his head. 'You never leave me. Not even for a moment.'

Sometimes, when the two of you are older, he still comes stealing into your room at night, wiping his nose with the back of his hand as his lips wobble into a frightened frown. Turns out, as he draws the covers back and comes reaching in for you, he had another nightmare that pirates had come to steal you away from him again. With an aching sigh for how stricken he looked, how desolate, you let him claw at your shirt and bury his head into the side of your neck until the rest of the world melted away.

He kissed you again, that night. When the feel of his legs strewn familiarly between your own began to burn against his skin, and the weight of hand perched over his thrumming heart became too heavy to bear in secret. With nothing but the light streaming like shards of pearly stars through the porthole to betray a moment so special, so longed for, Sanji let his eyelashes flutter close as he slowly... slowly pressed his lips against your cheek again.

This time, his eyes widened in shock as the feeling of your hand gripping at his jaw and turning his face straight on to your own. Before he can even open his mouth in confusion, the sweet pressure of your lips pressed against his top one. For a moment, Sanji doesn't move an inch: doesn't even breath, not even processing that the thing he’s spent every moment of his waking and sleeping life wishing for ever since he found you on that boat was actually happening, right here right now. He tries really hard to stop his whole body from shaking, as his silky lashes finally falter shut against the top of your cheeks and he tries to focus his whole attention on the way your plush lip seems to press so perfectly against his own.

When he finally pulls away, he lets out a loud 'OW' as he pinches his arm.

'What did you do that for!?'

'I had to double check this wasn't a dream, my sweets!'

And then he's on you again, like a ravished man gasping for air. God, he wasn't sure if soulmates were real, but when your top lip pulled down against his, and he could feel the thud of your heart synch against his own beneath the tips of his fingers, if he didn't know that he was yours.

He stays in your room a lot more often after that, using it as an excuse for you to help him button up his shirt during sleepy mornings, smiling at the feel of your fingers as they knocked against the muscles of his chest. It was also his favourite part of the day - the good morning kiss the two of you shared before you raced down to be at your shifts before Zeff decided to knock your heads together.

One time you forgot to give him one, too distracted by one of the sous chefs busting into your room with a bloodied nose and a chipped front tooth, whistling through the gap as he begged you to come down to the main foyer and help him break out a fist fight that had started between two gangs of rival pirates. The pout on Sanji's face that day was enough to make even the most bounty-heavy pirate's knees tremble. Every other chef steered way clear of his station, watching the arch of his back and the jaw in his muscle jump as he busied himself by frying his steak of tuna, so gutted at the loss of just one kiss. Not angry, no: just grief stricken, because this man seriously just adores you that much.

When you finally get your lunch break, the first thing you do is throw your napkin down on the kitchen ground and grab Sanji by his suit collar, enjoying the surprise tilt of his head as he drops his spoon onto his serving tray and allows you to lead his feet backwards to the fire exit. As soon as he's outside, you slam him gently against the wooden beams of the Baratie restaurant, and kissed him silly to make up for it. His look of trusting confusion suddenly melt into jumping heart eyes when your knee slides up between his thighs to try and pin him in place. His breathing comes out in harsh, shallow gasps between ferocious kisses, and you have to press him back against the wall every time he comes arching forward to follow your head for even more kisses. No, this was about you making him feel good. And by goodness, as your tongue pressed against the seam of his lips and tentatively ran over his front teeth, if he wasn't two seconds away from falling to his knees right there and then.

When you let him go, he slides down the wall like putty until he's sitting with legs stretched out and both his suit and hair a ruffled mess. He's literally never been more deliriously happy in his whole life.

Your favourite time of the day is when the restaurant closes, and the two of you finally have the kitchens to yourselves. Once you've tossed your aprons back onto the rack with a tired sigh, the only thing that can cheer you up is the sound of Sanji kicking his chair back with the toe of his shoe, and the sight of him beckoning you over to him with that tilted head and pearly beam of his. Mmh, how safe you feel, how loved as you collapse down to sit on his knees, and he tucks you in between the brackets of his arms in a vice so tight it could match any Marine knot.

You take one of his hands off the pen he was holding, turning his palm round to face you so you could fiddle with the rings he was wearing. You draw one up, curling his finger before your eyes, before slotting one off and sliding it onto your own ring finger. It was the one his father had given him: one he so loathed to wear, and yet felt guilt bore down too heavily on his conscious to ever take it off. You turned the one on top of it, one you know Zeff had given him after his first day working at the Baratie, and you smiled at the memory.

'You know', you start, still fiddling with his hand, feeling him shift his thighs as you pressed a gentle kiss on the pointer finger you were currently grasping onto. 'I may just have to keep this one.'

'Oh yeah?', he says dreamily, and you could feel his grin growing as he hid his burning face in the nape of your neck. 'Don't worry sweetheart. One day, once I find the perfect one, I'll give you a ring of your own.'

The two of you sneak out and share cigarettes out the back door a lot, where Sanji steps forward and kisses you like a man possessed every time you pinch the stub from out of his mouth and draw it along your bottom lip teasingly. When you try to get him to go back in, he just wraps his arms around your waist and lifts you up, spinning you around to stop you from leaving him alone. Laughing, you try to shove him off, swatting at the hands that form a tight clasp over your belly button, until his large fingers finally slide down to hold your waist. You glance behind you, smirking at the way his eyes are tightly shut in euphoria as ducks down, chest nearly enveloping in his desperation to reach your face again. His kisses become sloppier: smoke stained as they leave wet trails up your jaw, before he finally gives in and tries to make you laugh one last time by nibbling at the lobe of your ear.

Whenever he has a fight with Zeff, you have to hold him afterwards. The feel of your fingers curling the hair at the nape of his neck, or rubbing soothing circles into the sore muscles of his shoulders stops the furious darts of air from flaring his nostrils almost immediately.

Man has blaring heart eyes 100% whenever he's in a fight with rowdy customers, and you get to kick the flashy knife out of the last one's hand before the pirate could launch straight for Sanji's neck. He tilts his head at you with those amazed eyes, a gentle smile growing almost shyly on his face like a secret wink, before he throws his now empty plate at the pirate trying to sneak up behind your back. The crash echoes out through the booth area, a cry so furious: so full of rage that anyone would try and dare hurt you, that it makes all the remaining pirate crews crawl out towards the door on their hands and knees.

Stitching each other up afterwards is a motherfcking mess though, that Zeff straight up just abandons all hope of being able to use his kitchen. With a defeated rub of his pounding temples, he lets the door slam shut on his heel because he just can't deal with the two of you. He'd much rather pick up a brush and start sweeping bits of crushed and splattered asparagus off the floors than have to watch you to battle it out in a stiff competition of who could be more sickeningly, maddingly in love with the other. Between you standing between Sanji's entrapping thighs, closing you in tighter so you could have full access to kiss his bobbing Adam's apple as you use a rag to swipe bits of dry sauce off his neck, and him throwing his head back and whimpering, Zeff was going to go insane. Even worse, as soon as you're finished, Sanji's reaching between your fingers to lick split consomme off your nose.

The two of you are literally insufferable, and if every one apart from Zeff doesn't find it the cutest thing I-

When Luffy comes and wrangles Sanji into joining his crew, the chef's first thought is to be distraught. He seeks you out straight away, nearly breaking some poor fisherman's pole as he tries to hurdle over it and grip onto your shoulders, making you drop the barrel of dried meats you were carrying from Luffy onto the planks and watching Luffy nearly dangle off the edge of his ship to stop it from rolling into the ocean.

'Y/n- I- I can't go!'

'You're hardly scared!'

'I'm not scared of going, I'm terrified of going without you!'

You let him pour his heart out for a moment, before stopping his rambling, near sobbing mess of a sentence by bopping the tip of his nose. You giggle, swiping some hair from his forehead. 'Sanji, Luffy asked me to come first. I promised I wouldn't go without you, and I meant it.'

You manage to unlatch his twitching hand from your left shoulder, and give it an almost imperceptible squeeze. The tears that threatened to fall from his eyes finally cascade down, although he's so relieved that he's smiling through the blurriness. You swipe them away with your free thumb, finally, after all these years, feeling the squeeze of your hand that Sanji gives you back, before he envelops you in a breath taking hug.

'Awww, you guys are so sweet!', Luffy calls out from where he's hanging by his sandal off the railing of his ship. 'But could someone give me a hand before my hat falls into the waves? That would not be very cool.'

The first thing the two of you do once you're on The Going Merry is to find your bunk. Sanji isn't very subtle when he kicks your door shut with his heel, and comes scampering towards you like an upended sand crab, pinching for you until he's hefted you up over his shoulder and has unceremoniously landed you in your shared hammock. He's quick to jump in, straddling you as the hammock sways back and forth with the commotion.

He nearly starts crying again when he sees a flash of silver poke out from underneath your neckline; he grazes his hand over the chain, recognising it as his father's ring you had taken months ago. The one he had hated so much. The one you had tried to save him from. A small piece of him. A weight you tried to bear for him. A reminder of how much he was loved.

A confused Zoro, not realising there are new crew members on board, follows the sound of Sanji's voice crooning out how much he adores you, and how he loves you more than every star in the sky, down past the window on your bedroom door. Let's just say, he's not very impressed when he catches sight of the hammock swinging wildly from side to side, and an array of clothes thrown out and discarded in a mess around it.

[em-ontv]

Back into the life.

Pairing: Sam Winchester x fem!hunter!reader

Summary: Escaping the hunter life and going to Stanford seemed pretty good until you showed back up into his life again, reeling him back in.

Content: mentions of y/n, Sam’s in Stanford, he used to have a crush on reader, reader is friends with the Winchesters, reader is kind of cocky, mentions of Jess, English is not my first language, pretty fast-paced, not proofread

A/N: few disclaimers here, I haven’t watched supernatural (yet) so Sam may be a bit ooc, I tried my best. There's no specific indication that Sam and the reader have any romantic relationships, you can interpret it however you want, but I definitely did not write this in means of breaking Sam up with Jess. Enjoy :)

Word count: 930

You were in some dive bar, waiting for your next hunt, when your phone buzzed. Dean's name flashed on the screen, and the second you answered, his voice came through, not even a "hello" first before he got straight to the point.

"I need your help."

Typical.

"Hello to you too, sunshine," you responded, leaning back in your chair, feet kicked up onto the table. "It's been—what? Three years? And this is the first thing I hear from you?"

"Cut the crap, y/n. It's Sam, I need him back." Dean said.

Your eyebrows shot up. "Why don't you go ask him yourself?"

"I did. Kid's stubborn. Won't leave that Stanford life of his, but I need him." his exhale came through the phone like he was one breath away from losing it.

There was a pause on your end. Because the thing is, you understood. You did. There was a time where you wanted to leave too—and have something different, a normal life. But hunting? The supernatural world? It never lets you go.

"You're the only one who can get him to listen." Dean's voice snapped you out of the thought.

"Uh-huh, and what makes you think that?" you let out a sound that was close to a scoff and a chuckle.

A beat of silence, and you could nearly hear the smirk on Dean's face through the phone. "Because, sweetheart, Sam's got it bad for you. Always did."

Oh, you knew alright. Sam had always been obvious. Big, doe-eyed stares when all of you were younger, awkward stammering when you caught him looking, and that whole puppy-dog vibe he never could shake. You’d flirt with him just to see him turn red. It was too easy. The boy had it bad, but then he went and ran off to college, leaving everything else behind.

"Please, that was kid's stuff. He's over it." you shrugged it off.

"He's not over it," Dean fired back. "Never was. So, I need you to... you know, use that to get him back."

You almost laughed out loud. "You want me to seduce Sam back into hunting? Seriously?"

"For crying out loud, y/n. And it's not seducing, it's gentle coaxing." Dean rolled his eyes, his tone sarcastic. "But whatever works, I guess."

Well, whatever works. You'd find out soon enough.

—————

The second you parked your car and stepped onto the campus, you could feel yourself being out of place. Students were laughing, lounging under trees, talking about midterms and parties.

Stanford was nice. Too nice.

You waited for the six-foot-four tree of a man that used to trip over his own feet whenever you smiled at him. And soon enough, Sam emerged from the lecture hall, backpack slung over his shoulder, hair a little longer, looking every bit the normal, happy college student. He hadn’t seen you yet. Oh, this was gonna be fun.

Before you could even call his name, Sam looked up. His entire body froze mid-step. The look on his face was priceless—equal parts shock and panic, with just a dash of "oh no, she’s here." He blinked, then blinked again, clearly trying to process that you, of all people, were standing in front of him.

"y/n? What—what are you doing here?" He stammered, looking like a deer caught in headlights.

You crossed your arms, that familiar cocky smile playing on your lips. “Oh, you know. Came to say hi, check in on you."

He fumbled with his backpack strap, eyes darting around like he was hoping this was some weird dream and he’d wake up soon. “Well, I've been doing well. Studying law."

"Law, huh?" your eyes glanced over to the backpack he was holding. "Sounds pretty boring for a guy who used to get his hands dirty killing vamps."

Sam's face fell, and you almost felt bad. Almost.

"Look," you said, getting to the point. "Dean needs you back."

His jaw clenched. "I told him no."

"Well, I'm telling you yes."

There was a pause as Sam looked at you, like he was trying to figure out if you were serious. "You're just like Dean, you know that?"

"Thank you."

"That wasn't a compliment."

You just smiled and shrugged, unfazed.

Sam sighed heavily. “y/n, I’ve got a life here. I’ve got—”

“A girlfriend, I know,” you cut in. “Dean mentioned her. Jessica, right?”

His eyes flickered.

“And she’s nice, I’m sure. Sweet. Normal. Everything you want.” you exhaled softly. “But let’s be real, Sam. You can’t outrun this life. It’s in your blood. You’re a hunter, always will be.”

Sam swallowed hard. He stared at you like he was still trying to wrap his head around why you'd come all this way to pull him back into a world he thought he left behind.

“I left for a reason,” he muttered, more to himself than to you.

"And I'm sure it's a good reason, Sam." your eyes softened at his words. "But sometimes, life drags you back."

"Dean needs you," you started.

"And I need you too."

Oh. That card.

Sam’s eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, he looked like a nervous teenager again, the way he always used to when you were around him.

Finally, he sighed, shoulders sagging in defeat. “Fine. I’ll come. But I’m doing it for Dean.”

“Uh-huh,” you raised your eyebrows, already spinning around to head to your car. “I know.”

As you walked away, Sam trailing behind you, you couldn’t help but grin. Dean had been right. And Sam?

Well… Sam never stood a chance against you.

[thetarsier]

heyyy!! i hope you’re well!! i was hoping you could write a jealous!aaron x reader where she’s basically getting hit on while she’s at girls night and maybe penelope snaps a picture of her and the guy and sends it to the BAU gc and aaron basically drives over and suprises you because he was jealous

a/n: hi! thank you for the request, lovely, i was so excited to write this one :)

Word Count: 2k

Warnings/notes: drinking, asshole-type men (yes that's a warning)

<3: aaron hotchner x fem!reader, established relationship

Girls' night always - always - ended in one of your own getting hit on. Usually, it was JJ, but Emily fielded her fair share of creepy drunk men. Penelope tended to go after men herself, and you were the quiet one that laughed along with the others at the strange men eyeing them up. Rarely were you ever the target of their affections. 

It was something that the other girls constantly tried to change, with JJ repeatedly pointing you out to the men who came over to the table (which almost always ended in you ducking away to the bathroom until the guy got the hint). They didn’t know that you were more than content being an observer of their conversations, happy to celebrate the numbers Emily and Penelope received and laugh over the rejections of the men that came after JJ. 

They didn’t know, because they all still thought that you were single. You’d never told them otherwise, and that was mostly because of who you were currently dating: Aaron Hotchner, your boss. 

It was a connection that blossomed over the many years of you being at the BAU, not the same as some rushed, half-assed attempt to score during a night out. He loved you, and you loved him, and you were trying to take it slow out of the eyes of your coworkers. It’d worked for almost two years now with only a few minor slip-ups that were easy to explain away to the people who’d witnessed them. 

Not Rossi, however. Rossi had you two figured out almost as soon as you started to take things seriously, and now he acted as your protector. He changed subjects, scolded, and made those who questioned you or Aaron seem stupid. He was the perfect person to have as a secret keeper, mostly because he didn’t have it in him to care that much. 

And he’d done a beautiful job, too. It was a running joke on the BAU group chat that Penelope’s mission on your nights out was to find you someone to go home with. This was why, despite your usual invisibility, when a guy approached you at the bar, you were left alone with him, your girlfriends disappearing into the crowd around you. 

“-And so, yeah, I would say I’m self-made. I mean, my dad did lend me most of the money I used to actually start up, and all of my customers came from the family company, too, but I run the place, you know?” The guy interrupted his ramblings to take a sip from his beer, and you continued your nodding. 

You were used to listening to fast ramblings, thanks to Spencer, but usually his monologues were interesting, and you could follow them with relative fascination. This guy was just… awful. At storytelling, and being a good conversationalist in general.

“He hasn’t stopped talking this whole time,” JJ observed from their table, shaking her head, “Can’t imagine he’s particularly decent.”

“She hasn’t walked away, yet, though,” Emily shrugged, “Maybe he’s like Reid?”

“Does he look like Reid?” Penelope pulled her phone out of her bag, “Doesn’t matter. Mission half accomplished - everyone has to see this.”

She snapped a photo of the two of you, him leaning into you, you leaning onto the bar. From an outsider's perspective, with the angle that Penelope had taken the photo, it might have looked like you were enjoying his advances more than you actually were. You felt the vibration in your pocket as Penelope sent your photo to the group chat, but you didn’t look, too focussed on how you were going to get out of the man’s company without causing a scene to care about what your phone was doing.

“Oh, look,” Emily pointed to Penelope’s phone, “Morgan’s already responded-” She switched to a lower tone of voice as she read out the man’s text. “-Doesn’t count, Babygirl. Nobody’s gone home yet.”

“He’s right, you know,” JJ looked back at you and the man, “And I don’t think this is a match made in heaven.”

“I can’t keep losing this bet!” Penelope complained as she shoved her phone back in her bag and sat down, disheartened. 

“Ha!” Emily laughed, looking at her own phone, “Hotch has seen it.”

“Oh, that’s embarrassing,” JJ stifled her own laugh by taking a sip of her drink, “Delete it, Garcia. Her boss has seen that.”

“He’s seen it all - he’s in the group chat,” Penelope defended, “Maybe the embarrassment of her constant failure will lure her into a perfect match.”

“That makes sense,” Emily commented sarcastically, eyes roaming over the crowd. 

You laughed politely at the man’s joke before averting your eyes down to your lemonade. You weren’t supposed to be the designated driver - the four of you were meant to get a cab - but once you’d found out about Penelope’s plan, you’d switched to non-alcoholic drinks. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t trust yourself, but you studied serial killers and rapists for a living, and you knew that some men liked to take advantage. If you were drunk, you couldn’t defend yourself as well as if you were sober. Usually, it wasn’t an issue - you had your girls - but sometimes the anxiety was too much for you to enjoy a drink, and that anxiety only increased tenfold when you were left alone with a guy.

The man’s droning on was getting so tedious that when you looked over his shoulder and saw Aaron - neat suit and all - you thought you had imagined him. Then, when he started moving closer, you started to worry that he would get the wrong idea. 

But, he knew you, and you could tell by his caution that he was well aware of how you were feeling, tuned into your discomfort. Once you’d confirmed that your boyfriend was, in fact, in the same bar as you, you smiled and communicated with your eyes something that you hoped sounded like: ‘Get the hell over here right now.’

“Excuse me,” Aaron attached himself to your side, and you instantly felt safer, “What are we talking about over here?”

“Hey, back off, man,” The guy stood up straighter, and Aaron slipped an arm around your waist, “I’ve been talking to her all night.”

“Yes, and clearly it was riveting conversation,” Aaron eyed the many empty bottles surrounding the two of you and then your own singular glass of lemonade with disdain, “But it’s time to say goodnight.”

He didn’t even allow the man to say anything else, just used his grip on your waist to spin the two of you around and toward where he knew the girls were sitting. His arm left your waist once the two of you were no longer shielded by other people, and as you approached the tall table, sliding into the spare chair, you scowled at Penelope. 

“Next time you try to set me up against my will, at least make sure he’s not a jerk.” 

“Next time, my love.” She promised, placing a warm hand on your shoulder. 

Aaron stood to your right, in between you and JJ, and you gestured to him as you looked between your three friends, “Look at who had to come and save me,” You feigned annoyance, and acted as though you were secretly telling the girls of your embarrassment, “How did you even know we were here?”

“Oh, my God. He saw the photo.” Penelope gasped.

“The what?”

“Garcia put a photo of you and the guy on the group chat to try and prove that she’d succeeded in her mission,” JJ admitted, amusement swimming in her blue eyes as she looked between you and Aaron. 

“Oh, you’re asking for an HR case,” You pointed a finger at the flamboyant blonde, who smiled sweetly at you, tucking her hands underneath her chin, “You sent a picture of me at a bar to all of my colleagues?”

“If it makes you feel any better, Morgan said it doesn’t count.”

“Oh, great, so you sent my picture to my colleagues, and it didn’t even count.” You were only joking with them, and each of them was well aware of that fact. 

“Still,” Emily turned her attention back to Aaron, “Why are you here?”

You also turned to look back at him as he rubbed the back of his neck. He clearly hadn’t thought much past the initial urge to save you from your misery, and you were sure that not even Rossi could’ve lied your way out of the situation. 

“Um…” He narrowed his eyes, brain working overtime for something believable, “I was here already for, the, uh…” 

His eyes darted down to yours in desperation. You laughed at him, leaning your head back onto his shoulder and reaching your hand down to grab at his. The secrecy was on your account, as most things in your relationship were; not only because he was technically your boss, but also because he was head-over-heels obsessed with you. It was created on your account, and you would be the one to break it. 

“Okay, guys, there’s a reason why I never go home with anyone from the bar…” You grinned, peeking up at Aaron from where the back of your head rested just below his chin before you looked back at the girls. 

Penelope was shocked into silence, her mouth wide open, hands stuck out by her sides, JJ was sporting a happy smile of her own, and Emily had a hand over her mouth, eyes blown with shock. After a few seconds of silence, where Aaron squeezed your hand to soothe both of your nerves, the group sprung into action. 

“Oh, my God!” Emily chuckled, “I knew there was something going on. I knew it!” 

“Oh, this is… This is…” Penelope waved her hands around. 

“Wonderful,” JJ finished, reaching over to touch your other hand that rested on the table, “And congratulations - you had everyone fooled.”

“It’s been hard,” You conceded, “Sometimes during hard cases, it was slightly too hard, but we’ve gotten through it.”

“Oh, you guys,” Penelope tilted her head to the side, “You’re too adorable.”

“And on that note,” You smiled, picking up your purse, “I think we should probably go.”

You said your goodbyes, and Aaron managed to get out his own through his uncharacteristic blushes and stutters, and you made your way out to Aaron’s car, hand in hand. 

“Why did you come?” You asked him out of curiosity once he’d climbed into his side of the car.

“Honest answer?” He raised an eyebrow and you nodded, turning your body towards his, “Really, I saw that photo of you with the guy, and I didn’t even think about it. I just got in the car.”

“Oh, you were jealous,” You teased, poking his arm gently, “It’s okay, Hotchner, I’m all yours, anyway.”

“Good,” He leaned over the centre console, fingers gripping your chin and encouraging your face closer to his, “Because I’m all yours.” 

Each of his kisses was a seal to his promise.

It was only in the morning, when you finally checked your phone after a night with Aaron, that you realised another photo had been snapped of you. One of you and Aaron walking out of the bar holding hands. Penelope had sent it to the group chat with the message ‘Mission finally successful.’ 

The group chat had barely shut up since, question after question rolling into your inbox.  

You groaned, falling back into your pillow, where Aaron kissed a path from the tip of your middle finger to your cheek, smiling against your skin. 

“If it makes you feel any better, Dave will stop bothering us about telling the truth now,” He mumbled into your neck, and you sighed, a smile on your face as you played with his hair. 

“Very true, Hotchner. Just remember: it was your jealousy that got us into this mess, so you’re dealing with the questions we’re going to get.”

He laughed into your skin, an agreement.

[brainddeadd]

ahhhh they kissed 🥺🥺

matt not wanting to wait long after he finally got to kiss her and he takes her on a date

First Date

(yes i did write this fast, i love baby devil)

It’s not easy being the only female player on the Devils’ roster, but you wouldn’t trade it for the world. The boys had become your second family—charming, goofy, and ridiculously protective. They made sure you were safe, happy, and always treated like their little sister. Even though you appreciated their care, it also made your budding relationship with Matt Rempe—a towering forward from the New York Rangers—a bit…complicated.

Matt didn’t seem to care about the rivalry, though. After weeks of stolen glances and playful banter, the two of you had finally shared your first kiss. It was soft but electric, leaving both of you breathless and wanting more. And, well, Matt wasn’t going to waste any time after that.

“Tomorrow. You’re mine for the whole day,” he had whispered that night, voice low and determined.

The next morning, you’re tucked inside a tiny café on a quiet corner of Manhattan, seated across from Matt as sunlight streams through the windows. It’s the kind of place with mismatched chairs, quirky décor, and pastries that look too beautiful to eat. The warm scent of coffee drifts through the air, and the quiet hum of soft jazz wraps around the two of you like a cozy blanket.

Matt leans forward slightly, one arm resting casually on the table, while his free hand wraps around a steaming cup of coffee. His knee bumps yours under the table—not by accident.

“How’s your croissant, superstar?” he asks, a grin playing on his lips.

You roll your eyes, though you can’t help the smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “Seriously? Superstar?”

“Yup.” He takes a slow sip of his coffee, eyes twinkling. “You’re my superstar now.”

Your stomach does a little flip. For a guy as physically imposing as Matt, he has an unexpected softness to him—a charm that sneaks up on you when you least expect it.

You glance at him from under your lashes, warmth spreading through your chest. “This better not be you trying to butter me up so you can score easy points in the next Devils-Rangers game.”

Matt laughs, a deep, rumbling sound that makes your heart stutter. “Nah, sweetheart. If anything, I’m hoping you take it easy on me.” He winks, and you fight the urge to throw a crumpled napkin at him.

After the café, Matt takes your hand as you walk through the bustling streets, his fingers slotting between yours like they belong there. You let him lead you to the next stop on your date—a museum tucked away from the busy streets of the city.

The museum is quiet, almost reverent, the cool air a welcome relief from the warm sun outside. You wander through the exhibits hand in hand, your fingers still intertwined, neither of you in a hurry.

At first, you try to focus on the artwork—each piece captivating in its own way, every sculpture and painting telling a story. But it’s hard to stay focused when you keep catching Matt staring at you instead of the exhibits.

“Matt,” you whisper, glancing over at him with a raised brow. “You do know you’re supposed to look at the art, right?”

He doesn’t even flinch. “I am,” he replies, the corners of his mouth curving into that familiar, smug smile. “But you’re way more interesting.”

Your heart stumbles in your chest at the softness in his gaze. It’s not just a cheesy line—he means it, and that makes it even worse.

“Rempe,” you groan, dragging a hand over your face to hide the heat rising to your cheeks. “That’s so corny.”

Matt chuckles, not even a little ashamed. “Maybe. But it’s true.”

You roll your eyes, but the warmth blooming in your chest is undeniable.

The day slips by in a perfect haze of stolen touches, quiet laughter, and playful teasing. You explore every corner of the museum, Matt making sure you take your time with whatever catches your interest, even if it means standing in front of the same painting for way too long.

But the real art, you realize, isn’t in the exhibits. It’s in the way Matt looks at you—like you’re the only thing in the room worth admiring.

By the time the two of you step back outside, the sun is starting to dip below the horizon, painting the sky in soft shades of pink and gold. The air is cooler now, and Matt wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer as you walk.

He leans down to murmur in your ear. “So... when can I take you out again?”

You laugh softly, leaning into his warmth. “Already planning our next date, huh?”

Matt smirks. “What can I say? I don’t like wasting time.”

There’s something in the way he says it—like he means more than just the next date. Like he’s already imagining every moment he could spend with you, every kiss, every stolen glance.

When you reach your building, Matt pulls you close for one last kiss. It’s slow and sweet, his lips lingering against yours like he’s trying to make the moment last.

“See you soon, superstar,” he whispers, and the promise in his voice sends a shiver down your spine.

[selectivelyslytherin]

Owl me

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x Reader

Summary: It’s your birthday and the well meaning owl you received from home this morning mistakenly delivers letters that were never meant to be sent. a little bit of Lorenzo shenanigans 🫶🏻

a/n: just want to acknowledge that the owl is indeed named after a d2 character for those of you who know what I’m talking about🫡

I sat at my desk sealing up the envelope and carefully spelling out his name, drawing a little heart for the O.

A letter I would never send.

I did this often, I had to write my feelings out on paper, and I had to put them somewhere safe so they wouldn’t spill out. I stacked the envelope carefully on top of the small collection I had.

“Happy birthday! I’m so excited for tonight, it’s going to be a great day. I can feel it.” Pansy pulled me from my thoughts.

“Thanks. And any day we don’t have classes is a great day for you.” I replied standing up so we could walk to breakfast.

I sat in my usual spot halfway listening to the boys excitedly talking about the party we were throwing tonight in the common room. “Hey, who’s owl is that?” Theo questioned as an owl swooped in, landing in an empty spot in front of me on the table.

“Not sure, he’s got a letter though,” I replied, grabbing the letter and ripping it open to read it.

“Figured it was time you got your own owl, Happy birthday! -Mum”

“Well, it would appear he’s mine,” I replied after reading the note.

“What are you going to call him?” Mattheo questioned from beside me.

“Zavala,” I replied.

“That was fast, almost like you’ve been waiting for this your whole life.” Pansy joked.

“No, but I’ve thought about it before. Zavala means fortress, a strong name I think. Better get him to the Owelry.” I said standing up to leave.

“I’ll walk with you,” Mattheo stated.

“You just want to see the owls.” I teased.

“And so what if I do?” He questioned with a small smile.

“I’ve got to stop by my room before we head there, might as well make sure he knows where to find me.”

We stepped into my room, Mattheo sitting on my bed as I remembered the stack of letters still on my desk and internally panicked hoping he wouldn’t wander over in that direction.

“Hey, I uh, I got you something by the way. For your birthday. Don’t let me forget, it’s in my room.” Mattheo stated.

“Ooo I didn’t know Mattheo Riddle did gifts,” I replied teasingly.

“What kind of best friend would I be if I didn’t?”

“I suppose you’re right, I definitely won’t let you forget then. We’d better get going so we can get him to the owlery and catch up with the others to get supplies for tonight.”

I turned to get Zavala but he was already gone.

“Looks like he found his way on his own, they grow up so fast.” Mattheo joked.

I rolled my eyes. “I guess we can just get ready for the party then.”

I settled onto the couch in the common room. Laughter and teasing filled the air as everyone took turns daring each other and revealing their secrets in a game of truth or dare.

“Truth or dare, Berkshire?” Blaise asked.

“Dare.”

“I dare you to eat a worm,” Blaise replied with a proud smile.

Lorenzo groaned. “Seriously? What are we, twelve?”

“It will be just as funny now as it would’ve been then,” Blaise said.

“Fine, I’ll be back,” Enzo said grumbling to himself under his breath as he walked away

A few more rounds went by before I noticed Lorenzo still had yet to return.

“Where’s Enzo?” I questioned.

“Probably still outside, why?” Blaise replied.

“He’s been gone a while, should someone go look for him?”

Blaise shrugged. “Why don’t you go then?”

“I don’t want to go outside.. alone.. at night.”

Mattheo rose to his feet, casting a glance back at me with an encouraging nod, signaling for me to follow him.

As we ventured outside, I heard a noise somewhere in the distance. Without thinking, I jumped toward Mattheo, grasping his arm tightly in a rush of anxiety. The warmth of his skin grounding me in the moment as I scanned our surroundings, every rustle and slight whisper of the wind heightening my senses.

Mattheo let out a small laugh. “That’s probably just Lorenzo, why are you so jumpy? You don’t need me to protect you.”

“Well, for one, I don’t like being alone outside at night, and for two, I can handle myself but you make me feel safe.”

Mattheo’s expression changed, almost a look of sadness. “You feel safer with me?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“I got him!” Lorenzo yelled, jumping out from a nearby bush.

I let out a slight scream. “Lorenzo Berkshire, what the hell are you doing?”

Both boys laughed loudly.

“I got my worm.” He held up a jar with the worm in it.

“Great, let’s get back inside so you can eat your worm friend.”

We walked back inside, Lorenzo triumphantly holding the jar with the worm over his head for everyone to see. The thought of him actually eating that poor worm sent shivers down my spine.

“Hey, you wanna come up to my dorm for a minute? I still never gave you your gift.” Mattheo asked.

“Sure.” I smiled.

We walked into his dorm and Mattheo ventured over to his desk. I sat on his bed, looking around the dorm, which was a bit tidier than I had expected from this particular group of boys. Probably the work of some very brave house elves I thought to myself.

“Have you found it yet?” I asked Mattheo standing up and walking over to him.

Mattheo didn’t reply, as I looked at him, feeling llike I might pass out from the wave of anxiety that washed over me. I realized he was holding an envelope, my envelope, with his name on it.

“Looks like Zavala dropped off some mail for me.” He said, smirking.

“Mattheo, seriously. That wasn’t meant to be actually sent.” I groaned holding my face.

“Oh don’t worry, this was definitely meant for me to have. Nothing I love more than letters fluffing up my ego.” He beamed.

“Letters?” I looked down and every letter I had written was lying in a neat pile on his desk. That damn owl.

“Well, that makes this easier then.” He said.

“What easier?”

Mattheo pulled out a small velvety black box and handed it to me. I opened it up to reveal a necklace with a small letter “M” hanging from it.

“I was wondering if we could be like.. ya know, a thing?” He asked, blushing a bit.

“A thing?”

“Like, official. Like I’m yours, and you’re mine.”

I smiled up at him. “Sure, I’m all yours. Already was if you couldn’t tell.” I said motioning to the letters on his desk.

Mattheo smiled. “Did you really mean what you said earlier?”

“What exactly?”

“You said I made you feel safe.”

“Of course, I always feel safer and more comfortable when you're around.”

He looked down. “It's just that no one has ever told me that before, that they feel safe with me around.”

“Well I promise I do.” I gave him a small smile, my heart slightly aching at his words.

“Thank you.” he said looking me in my eyes seriously. “We should probably get back downstairs before people question why we've been gone so long, I’m sort of curious about Lorenzo and his uh, worm.” He smiled holding a hand out for me.

If I had anticipated this would be the outcome of actually sending those letters, perhaps I would have hand-delivered them myself.

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

Can you do a smutty slash fic? Where the reader has been bratty all day and when they finally get from where ever ( your choice:P ) he puts her in her place? 🤭

A/n: I think I just have to accept that I will forever have asks in my inbox no matter how much I write 🥲 (seriously tho I love everyone who requests things you make me want to write 😘)

Warnings: Smut, oral (m receiving), degradation, daddy!kink, fluff at the end, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

Yours and Slash's relationship was something new, to the public at least, really you'd just moved in with him and the relationship was going fine.

Of course, everyone felt the need to know everything about your relationship. Slash didn't want to go through with an interview just as much as you, but he also knew it would be good for publicity and if you just did one it would be over.

Eventually he convinced you to go along with it and you went.

If you were gonna be forced to put your relationship on full blast then you were going to put the whole thing on blast. The interviewer would ask personal questions about you, Slash would start saying something about how it was inappropriate but you'd cut him off and turn the question on him.

"So, Y/n, what's it like to be in bed with a rockstar?" The interviewer would ask.

"That's not-"

"He's really whiny." You'd say, Slash staring daggers at you. "He likes being handcuffed to the bed and calling me mommy." It was hard to keep a straight face sometimes but most people got that you were joking and saying shit out your ass just to avoid the questions.

But the interviewer kept asking questions like that so you kept answering them like that.

Slash was itching to leave and as soon as he was given the go ahead he started dragging you back to the car, asking you what the hell you thought you were doing.

"You know you like calling me mommy." You teased, he'd shoot another look at you.

He practically through you into the backseat of his car and climbed in on top of you, quickly trying to get your clothes off. "Wait, can we get home first?" You said in a panicked voice. "There's just- there's so many people here who could see."

"Exactly." He said, tossing the rest of your clothes on the floor. "I'm gonna show them exactly what happens when I fuck you." He pulled his pants down, just enough for his cock to spring out. "Suck it." You looked at him with wide eyes. "Did I stutter? Fucking suck it."

You kneeled on the seat and leaned over, laying a few kitten licks to his tip before his pushed himself down your throat, gagging you. He didn't let you go, a harsh grip on your hair as he used you like his own personal toy.

You felt him twitching in your throat, his groans getting louder until he finally came down your throat. He held you down on him, making you choke on his dick before letting you sit up.

You coughed and wiped your mouth as you sat back. "Open." You gave him a confused look. He took you by the wrists and pulled your hands away from your face. Understanding what he wanted you opened your mouth, moving your tongue around so he could see you'd swallowed it all. "Good, turn around." You did as he asked, staying on all fours as you turned to face away from him.

His hand came down on your ass harshly once, twice, three times, before he pushed into you, setting a fast pace from the start.

The car shook and filled with your loud moans, apologies spewing from you as he fucked you. "Fuck! Fuck, m'so sorry, m'so sorry, please!" You whined.

"Shut up." He demanded, holding your hips in a tight grip as his hips slammed into you over and over. "You love this, fucking say it."

"I-I love this." You mumbled.

"Like you fucking mean it, bitch." He said, emphasizing his words with another slap to your ass.

"L-love this." You whined. "Love how you feel inside, please."

"Please, what? Use your words." You could feel a knot tightening in your gut at his words.

"Please, Slash, lemme cum."

"Please, who?" His hand landed on your back, pushing you down onto your chest.

"Please, daddy! Please, daddy, lemme cum." You cried, tears streaming down your cheeks and onto the leather seats.

Slash groaned behind you, his head rolling back. "Say it again."

"Daddy, please, I-I need it so bad." You felt his hot cum hitting your walls, but he stopped moving, taking away all friction and taking your high from you.

He pulled out, slapping your ass once more and shoving himself back into his pants before getting out of the car. You watched as he felt, feeling him dripping out of you.

"Get up here." He ordered once he was in the drivers seat. "Now, fuck are you doing back there?"

You hesitated a moment before picking up your clothes. Slash took them from you and through them out of his door. "Don't need fucking clothes."

"I'm not just crawling up there." You protested.

"No, you're getting out of the car and coming up here like an adult."

"But-" You started, cut off by a glare from him.

Nervously, you waited for there to be no one but you were in a busy place, there was always a few people. You tried your best to cover yourself as you got out of the car. When you went to open the passenger door it didn't open and you saw him chuckling to himself as he locked you out.

He wasn't actually terrible and let you in before more people saw.

The drive home was silent, aside from a few sniffles from you. You saw people staring at you, your chest. Any catcalls were met with Slash flipping them off or pretending to swerve into them.

Eventually he gave you his jacket to cover up with and he didn't force you to leave the car even once you got home, taking you in his arms and holding you while you cried in the driveway.

"I'm sorry, love." He repeated. "I love you, you know that, right?" You nodded, nuzzling into him. "Just don't go saying that shit on TV again."

"Don't put me on TV again."

"Deal." He said with a smile and kissed your forehead.

[screeching-bunny]

for yandere general, what if their darling doesn’t follow the routine because they just don’t like it ? Like, he wants them to wake up early but they really like sleeping in and when he gets mean about it (even just saying no ) they start to cry

Yandere! General Asks 1

Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Reader is Referred as ‘You’

You hated everything about the lifestyle Yandere! General forced upon you. It was all so restricting and you barely had any say in what you wanted to do. You were almost at your breaking point. You’ve just recently gotten married to him and the rules that you were given were just so stupid in your opinion. Like why did you have to wake up so early just to please him? So you decided that instead of listening to him, you’d just sleep in. Which is exactly how your mini revolution and protest had started.

At the start, Yandere! General didn’t mind it too much. He just figured that since you recently got into married life you’re just testing the waters and will soon come to understand his routine. However, this behavior of yours over time had gotten worse and most of your behavior was seriously starting to irritate him. It was due to this that he started to become meaner and stricter with every little thing that you did. Every mistake you made was met with criticism from his behalf and a sterned look at.

In his mind this was technically his fault for not making you understand that you didn’t have a choice in this. The whole idea of rules and order were something that should be obeyed. He may have a soft spot for you but at this point into the relationship he’ll happily punish you. Things like decreasing human socialization from others, forcing you to be near his side at all times, and etc have become the norm for you. These punishments mostly involved you being near him 24/7. He holds you to a higher expectation than others so he expects only the best from you.

You are however, very resilient and no matter what he throws at you, you won’t allow him to break your spirit. Right now, you were in your shared bedroom and absolutely refused to get up. It was your precious beauty sleep and you weren’t going to let anyone stop you from having it. You were about to go deeper into dreamland until you heard a loud bang from the door which caused your body to boot up straight.

In front of you stood the tall body of Yandere! General who loomed over you. “Why are you still in bed?!” When you heard this you weren’t immediately alarmed you assumed that after a few moments he would let you off easily like all the other times. What you didn’t realize was that his face looked different today, one that looked like it would take no for an answer and wouldn’t listen to your demands.

“I’m just sleeping in.” With that response he starts to make his way out of your room and lock the door. “Since you like that room so much, let’s see how long you can spend in it!” Rushing towards the door, you try to pry it open to no avail. No worries, he’s never been away for longer than a day, he’ll be back, right? Yeah, totally not.

It’s been about a month since that incident occurred and you could not handle it. You needed some form of human interaction. He’s isolated you before but not from him! This was seriously getting to you. You were getting fed but none of the maids would even look or acknowledge you. You’d honestly kill for a conversation right now. With teary eyes, you have up and banged on the door. Tears blasting down your eyes you scream, “Yandere! General please let me out!! I’m so sorry, I promise I’ll follow the routine! Please, just let me talk to you!!”

As soon as those words were said the door immediately opened and he stepped in. His large hand whisking away your tears as they fell from your cheeks. He said with a gentle voice, “Did you learn your lesson?” You nodded your head as fast as you could. “Good, because the next time this happens I promise I won’t be as nice!” Flinching at the time of his voice you then begin to calm down. “Everything that I do is for your own good. The sooner you realize that, the better.”

With that out of the way, he brought you to his office where he forced you to sit on his lap while he did paperwork. The sound of paper being flipped over caused your eyelids to slowly fall as you began to take a nap on him. What you didn’t notice is that if you look up, you’d see the victory smirk on his face as he grinned at you. Watching you cling so tightly to him caused him to basically almost coo. Maybe he should isolate you in a room more often. It wouldn’t be so bad if you acted cute like this everyday, now wouldn’t it? With that, he gave you a small peck on the forehead and continued on with his paperwork.

Asks 2

[that-one-enby-ranger]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY ROGER TAYLOR

It is Roger Meddows Taylor's birthday today so of course I have to make it all of yours problems and yap about it.

We've gotta start off with how talented this man is. He is the KING of drummers in my eyes and will always be. Watched a full concert today to celebrate, and I was just focusing on how fast he could move, and he wasnt always looking at the drums. And his little solo in the Montreal concert and I was staring at him and oh my gosh he can move fast. He looked tired afterwards. And his voice is amazing in its own unique way. I love it. I love listening to live songs and looking out for his baking vocals. I died everytime. My favourite song to hear live is Crazy Little Thing Called Love just because of Roger's rEaDy FreDdIe 🤠. I die every single time I hear and go insane you don't even know. His backing vocals are just *mwah* CHEF'S kiss 🤌.

And his high pitched screaming in In the Lap of the Gods is amazing. Theres a video of Roger Taylor blessing your ears for an hour and a half and it's just him screaming in that song and it really does bless your ears.

Plus he's got solo albums. And unless I'm horribly wrong, he has the most solo albums out of the entire band. I don't have a favourite album but a couple of my fav songs are The Key, Man on Fire and Strange Frontier.

He's written lots of hits and great songs including Radio Gaga, A Kind of Magic, One Vision, These are the Days of Our Lives, The Invisible Man and of course, I'm in Love With My Car.

Then there's the underrated songs that I love like Drowse, Action This Day, Ride the Wild Wind and others that I forgot and I cant be bothered to look up.

He also studied dentistry in uni. I don't know if he would have actually ended up being a dentist if he hadn't joined. But just think if he did.

THIS MAN RIGHT HERE COULD HAVE BEEN YOUR DENTIST SHOVING HIS HANDS IN YOUR MOUTH.

I just watched a video while writing this called the genius of Roger Taylor and they talked about how good he is on drums and used drum talk that even though I play drums, I haven't been playing long enough to understand, so they go into more depth on how talented he is on the drums. Its called The Genius Of Roger Taylor by Drumeo.

And you've gotta talk about his heart warming lyrics.

"With my hand on my grease gun,

Ooooo it's like a disease son."

Magical.

And what makes that even better is that sometimes during concert he would mix the lyrics around, whether on accident or purpose, I don't know, but he would say "with YOUR hand on MY grease gun." Life changing.

But seriously you wanna know some good lyrics listen to the whole of These Are The Days of Our Lives. And then try not to cry.

Moving on from talent, we gotta talk about some more amazing things about him.

He's a funny little boy. Watch some clips of him and you'll see what I mean. I don't care if you don't agree with me, I know he's a funny little boy.

"He threw my best fucking pair of maracas. Great sounding maracas, took me HOURS to steal them, and he just..." I can't write the next part without it seeming like it's a roleplay because it's a motion he makes of throwing stuff away in the air.

Anyways, it was his idea to dress up in drag for the I Want to Break Free video and that was one of his best ideas ever. Rogerina looked amazing.

What a goddess. And when I Want to Break Free got canceled in America, he would help stand up for the video and wouldnt feel ashamed that they did it and said they had a great time and it was fun.

And somewhat similarly, but more importantly, after Freddie died, and the press were being homophobic perverts and saying stuff like Freddie had it coming, or he lived a promiscuous life style, Roger (and Brian) would go on TV and stand up for Freddie and would be like "thats not true at all, you fucking pricks." That's not what they actually said. And he would then go on about how the press were massive dicks to Freddie while trying to get into his private life especially towards the end.

Hes adorable. Sweetie. My love.

"I'd like to make it.. naked 😏, and raw."

"1 and 3/7ths sugars please." "No one and 3/7ths 😠"

"I've just written this new one, WHICH IM REALLY EXCITED ABOUT"

"ITS PERFECT"

Just some quotes there.

Also, APPARENTLY, my sources are shit, I've only heard this once, has not been backed up, but I'm including it anyways, but apparently when Roger wasn't allowed to have Stone lions out the front of his house, he thought outside the box and put up hundreds of glow and the dark gnomes.

He also apparently had to legally fight his neighbour to keep his giant statue of Freddie Mercury he had in his backyard because the neighbour APPARENTLY thought that it was "rUiNinG tHe laNdScApe"

He kissed Brian when he was drunk.

He was called sex on legs.

Grew a beard because people kept mistaking him as a girl.

His eyes.

"There was lots of sex and drugs. Actually there wasn't that much sex and ... Well there wasn't much drugs"

There's also some lovely sad stories with him. Mainly the 300 yards and I don't feel like crying again so I'm not gonna write it out.

I'm gonna stop this here because my finger feels weird from having a plaster on it for three days and I wanna focus on more Roger videos that I've been watching in the background for about an hour now. I'm just gonna say he is shemxy.

And then you've got this:

Love him. Appreciate him. I'm gonna marry him one day, mark my words.

There is a lot more on him. This is all I've got. For now.

[bakugokemkatsuki]

Light Yagami x Reader

**Genre: Angst to Fluff **Happish ending **Key: Y/N- Your Name Talking; Sayu, You, Light **Background: Your childhood friends **Reader is GN **Word Count: 545

Light Yagami, he was tall, smart, funny, and a total gentleman. At least that’s how he presented himself. He was most any girl’s ideal guy. I mean from his gentle laugh and kind eyes to his sweet gestures like bringing your favorite snack. How could you not fall for him? You’ve known the Yagami’s for years, and you never would have thought you’d actually fall for him. Your mom’s used to joke that you two would end up together, but you never took them seriously. Well, that was your mistake because before you realized it you were falling. You fell fast and hard. You started to notice things you never did before. You ended up pushing him away completely thinking it would help. It didn’t and then you found out about Misa. Lights girlfriend… His sister told you about her one day while you were over helping her with a project. You felt yourself break inside. Of course, Light didn’t feel the same. He deserves someone like Misa, beautiful and perfect in every way you weren’t.

“Hey Y/N. Long time no see” Light was just getting home. You couldn’t even find it in you to reply. You wanted to break down and cry just hearing his voice. Light having known you forever could tell something was wrong. “Hey Sayu, can I borrow Y/N for a while?” “Sure. I have plans with some friends anyways. Thanks for your help see you later Y/N!” And with that Sayu was out the door. “Y/N come. Let’s go to my room.” You reluctantly followed Light up to his room. Once inside you both sat in silence. You were looking anywhere but him and trying to stay calm. “Y/N look at me. Please.” You begrudgingly obliged to look at Light for the first time since he got home. “What’s wrong?” You stayed silent not sure you could speak without crying. Light came over and sat next to you on his bed. He took your hand in his and asked again, “What’s wrong”. That was the last straw you couldn’t stop the tears. “Sayu… she… she told me about Misa…I know I shouldn’t be upset I have no right to be jealous… but I am…because Light…I love you…” Light didn’t say anything at first but instead pulled you into a hug. “Y/N… I’ve waited so long to hear you say that.” Pulling back from the hug and wiping your tears you reply confused, “What do you mean? But Misa?” “Sayu was wrong, Misa is just some girl who is obsessed with me. The feelings are NOT reciprocated.” “Really?” “Yes, you’re the only one for me.” Before you could say more Light pulled you in for a kiss. It was better than you ever imagined. As you pulled away Light was quick to ask another question. “Is that why you stopped coming over and started avoiding me?” “…Yes… Sorry…” “Y/N, never do that again okay? I love you and ONLY you.” “I love you too.” You two decided to keep it just between you for a while (Lights idea of course, so he could use Misa though you didn’t know this). You were just happy to finally be together. If only you knew the whole truth and what was to come later.

**Authors Note: While writing a lot of lights lines I could hear ryuk laughing and commenting in my head like "you're the only one for me huh? pretty smooth" *laughs*

[esta-elavaris]

2nd Jan '25

Discussing the less than ideal foundation that's been set for this "12 consecutive 50k months" challenge, and what it means for my fic writing going forward 💜

In the run-up to this year, I decided to do a preliminary 50k month in December. I wasn’t going to be strict about hitting the goal – and I’m not sure if I did, because I fell off of the wagon when it came to strictly calculating everything in the final week, but at a rough guess I was in the mid-forties, which isn’t bad at all. I was purposeful, too, about not being too strict with it, because I hadn’t counted words religiously at all throughout the year, and going too hard too fast (don’t be a twelve year old, babe), seemed like a recipe to fuck up my chances before they even began. So I’m cool with the fact that I probably didn’t hit the full fifty, that wasn’t the goal, and I’m pleased with how I did right out of the gate, anyway.

Unfortunately, life is life-ing. Early on in December, my grandmother was hospitalised. I’m being careful about what details I do and don’t get into because it’s not my business to tell, but she got her test results back on the 30th, and on New Year’s Eve, she sat the family down and announced that she is seriously ill. Make the worst assumption here, and you’re right. As things stand, she’s looking into treatment options, but she is in her mid-eighties, so the treatment options sound just about as good as the thing they’re supposed to treat, y’know? And this woman is the closest thing to a mother I’ve ever had. So it’s rough. We suspected as much throughout December as we waited for results, but in the not knowing there was a certain kind of comfort and an ability to hand-wave away the worst case scenario as anxiety talking.

But it wasn’t, and now we’re here.

Now, we know that I write my best when I’m under extreme stress. Catch the Wind happened while I was homeless. I’m learning, however, that the difference there was that the worst was happening to me, and not to someone that I love, so it’s slightly different here and now, and I’m left wondering what to do about this challenge. Another problem with this whole situation, although it’s far from the worst one and I feel guilty for even worrying about it, but I have to from a practical standpoint, is that if the worst case scenario happens, it could trigger a whole bunch of events that would mean I could end up homeless again. And I’ll be honest, guys, I don’t have another stretch of homelessness in me. It’s the worst thing I’ve ever been through, amongst a fucking litany of traumatic events. It’s the only thing I’ve been through that I could not face again. And if I have to, I will, but I’m very scared of it.

My gut is telling me to still go for it anyway. I think it could be a good thing, amongst it all, because I’ve found that giving myself challenges is a good distraction in the day-to-day, and one thing I can look proudly back upon when it comes to my homeless era is that I handled it well. I did two NaNoWriMos, I kept writing every day, and I did the 75Hard for 96 days (21 more than I had to), and it all kept me sane. But, again, that was all happening to me. And that had a happy ending. As much as I’m hoping and praying that this one will, too, I just don’t know. I don’t know what life is going to look like come the end of this year, and I know that even with all of this in mind, I’ll feel shitty if I abandon this challenge before it even begins, and I’ll also feel shitty if I attempt it and then immediately fail it. I’m not good at giving myself grace with these things, and there are several areas in my life right now where I want to improve, for a whole boatload of reasons, so it’s not like this is the only challenge I’d be taking on either.

All of that being said…I still want to try it.

As things stand, in the day to day, nothing is really changing right now as far as my daily routine is concerned. It’s just the mental load that’s been added – knowing what’s happening, what will happen, and what could happen. But I think this will provide a good distraction, it’ll give me a daily goalpost to focus on rather than thinking myself sick, and that’s pretty valuable right now. If the day-to-day changes, I might need to re-evaluate, but I’ll have bigger problems on my mind then.

With that being said, though, it has come as a serious reminder that I need to shift my time-spending priorities as far as my fanfic versus original writing habits go. Fanfic is easier. Maybe not in terms of plot, and it can actually be more challenging where characterisation is concerned, but you have a framework to go with. Plus, if it’s shit, it’s shit. It’s not the end of the world, if you get hate you can laugh at it, it’s fine. Novel work is a different beast. I’m building a fantasy world from the ground up, I need to make sure what lore I establish in chapter three is a) easily understandable and b) not contradicted in chapter fifty-three, and it’s just intimidating.

And honestly, I have no back-up plan, which goes against 95% of the advice that’s given to people trying to “make it” in creative fields. I’m very limited career-wise because of my health, and it’s essentially writing success (even if only minor success, which is still unlikely in creative fields) or bust. Knowing that doesn’t make the creative process easy, because you write every line with “what if this is the one that ruins it and nobody will want to publish it?” in the back of your mind.

Fanfic also has the added bonus of supportive people cheering you on with each chapter, which works wonders for the time-old creative habit of insisting every single thing you write is crap. With the novel, I don’t have that, it’s much more of a long game, and it’s honestly very scary.

But it’s the same thing I’ve been grappling with for ten years now in that regard, and it’s time to get over that and just get it done. I’m not saying there won’t be any fanfic, I enjoy it far too much for that and it’s a great way to blow off steam and keep writing fun, but I do need to stop hiding from the risks of original works by running to fanworks for comfort.

And honestly? If I am going to succeed in the traditional writing sphere…I want my grandmother to see it. This whole thing right now is standing as a reminder that she and my grandfather won’t be around forever, even if this current situation doesn’t turn dire, and I’ve made no secret of the fact that my family largely does not approve of my writing, and don’t believe it’s going to go anywhere. And I’m not even trying to prove anything to them – this isn’t a “I’m gonna miss my chance to show them that they’re wrong!” kind of thing, this isn’t the fucking time for that and I’m not that petty. But I know they do worry about me, and if I can get this thing moving in their lifetimes and, if it works, show them that I’m going to be okay and that I have something here? I want to make them proud. That’ll be worth facing the fear for.

So…yeah. I’m still going for the 50k months, as things currently stand. With a huge amount of effort to give myself some real grace if it doesn’t happen and I don’t hit those goals. I’m already behind, I won’t lie, because I was given the news on the 31st, spent the 1st still drunk from the night before, and the day that has passed since just largely feeling very numb, but I think this is something I need to do.

I have no idea how to end this post, other than to say I’m very grateful for how unfailingly patient and kind the people who read my things are 💜

[yuseirra]

I'm drawing a comic~ for the meantime...this manga honestly made me so frustrated and pissed earlier, I just ranted on and I found it so funny to read. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do, here's how I feel about it rn!!

oh, this is such a perfect time to take a break from it though, i constantly feel so nervous about creating something for it because things escalate fast and I need to make good sense of it and reflect it into my works EVERY week. I am nuts for staying accurate to the source material (it may not seem like it but I'm really a perfectionist and I wish to do a good job getting the characters right) This work has a knack for making me feel extremely tense. It's been that way for the past three months I've hopped in, it's nice and enjoyable to have something to be invested on but sometimes it gets too much.. people are growing insane and pointing knives at each other, our protagonist stabbed himself and fell into the waters. The fact that I think it was an utterly foolish decision for him to have been that way does not help. I do not support what he's done. It does make a pretty impressive scene considering it's a manga and the art looks good, I think they planned that scene to be there from the beginning too but Sigh

I think he directed his anger to the wrong guy. I am not convinced that was the right choice he's made so I hate the look of it. Way to feel this way about the main character huh,

I can't draw.. when things make me this nervous, what else is going to unfold? I feel like I can see the big picture for the whole thing, but there is no way I can predict all the little details and what if things get super ugly, even uglier than how it is now?? I can't possibly work with that, it's just so hard!; Mengo-san Aka-san, what did I do to deserve this?? I came in because I thought I understood what this is!!! I have a good idea of how things are going to go!!! Why do you have to make everything SO MESSY?? It's frustrating. I AM collecting the physical volumes you know? I WANT TO TILL THE END?? please don't make me regret it, You seriously AREN'T going to make the one guy Ai confessed her love to a total freak. You know that and I know it too. It's just out there and set in stone, goodness. This isn't funny. This is so pointless. It wears me out ugghhh it's not about the ship I mean, it's about the message!!! the plot!!!!!! I really don't like how this manga makes things way more complex than what it actually is. It doesn't have to be that way.

Heheh. I ranted again- the stuff below's what I wrote earlier. Honorable mention to chatgpt for helping me translate it.. this is just. I just want things to get resolved. It's getting so dumb.

***

Kamiki is drowning and getting dragged away, Aqua stabs himself, then floats on the water with a melancholy expression on his face… and then there's a break for two weeks or so, right? Ugh, seriously.

But honestly, even in this weirdly ended situation, I’m actually glad there’s a break. If there wasn’t, I wouldn’t be able to write things like this. I get too nervous to write because I really hate making mistakes. I genuinely don’t like it. Normally, I wouldn’t enjoy talking about uncertain situations like this…

But what can I do when I see things?;;; If I didn’t understand anything at all, I wouldn’t be able to write something like this, and if I didn’t have enough time, I wouldn’t have time to think about it, so I wouldn’t be able to write then either. But now that I do understand, it’s just… so frustrating, suffocating, nerve-wracking, and I feel all fidgety because of it.

Honestly, this manga should just release one chapter and then take a break. Release one chapter and then take a break. It would be nice to have about a week to think about it with a clear mind. It’s so exhausting, really. I feel like I know where this is all headed in the end, but the creators have been dragging things out so slowly. Even with the Aqukana storyline, I got so tired with how they handled it that I took a break from reading it last year…

The story hands you the key. It even clearly shows you the door that the key can open. But then it puts up dozens of other doors next to it, meaningless ones. Even after giving you all the answers, it tries to confuse you. But you can see right through it. And while doing that, it points to each door saying, 'Isn't this door pretty~~~ How about that one?' constantly taunting you along. All while it's them that's given you the key already in the first place.

It’s really frustrating… I’m so tired. If I couldn’t see anything, I’d just watch while grumbling or be like, 'Oh…' and keep my distance without overthinking it. But it’s suffocating and frustrating not knowing why they’re doing such pointless things, and it makes me anxious too…

Well… I could just take a break, but… I really like Ai. And when I look at the man she loved, I feel like he could actually be a really good character too, so I watch carefully… There’s a lot to dig into. It would be nice to shift the focus onto the other characters, too, but…

Seriously, nothing’s been properly resolved, has it? They’ve been dragging it out for ages. The characters keep doing crazy things. You can’t end a story like this. It’s just… they're not writing well, but they’re doing it on purpose. This manga is like that; the creators enjoy twisting things, and I should just enjoy that too, but I don't think I do. I just want to use the key and go through the door; I’m not interested in looking at the various door knobs. I wish they’d just stop now. I feel like I know what’s going on. That’s why I’m here to draw fan art. I get so up and down every week, but if the outcome isn’t what I’m thinking, I have no idea what it could be, and I don’t think it would make for a good story at all. I’m not saying it has to go the way I want for it to be a good story! It’s just… if it doesn’t, it feels like the message will completely collapse. It’s not about the couple… Even if the characters die, as long as the story is good, that’s fine, but the framework has to hold up!

About Kamiki's state,

his trauma and the dire-ness of his mentality is probably even more serious than Aqua’s, right? And I actually got that right too.

They said they only felt alive when they were with Ai. That means, in essence, they’re as good as dead now. But if they still want to keep living in that state, it means there was something they believed they had to do.

That’s likely related to the wishes mentioned in Mephisto and Fatal.

‘I want to see you. I want your life to return.’ (Mephisto)

‘I want to get closer to you. I want to receive your love again.’ (Fatal)

'For that, I can do anything. I can even offer my life. I can sacrifice anything. What more do I need to use?' <(Common themes in both songs)

In short, it’s all about 'I want to see you.'"

The "you" here refers to Ai.

That’s what it is.

Well… when you think about it, what Kamiki is doing now is essentially that. His underlying wish was that, but the way he’s going about it has become completely twisted. I don’t think he developed this kind of logic on his own. He’s been influenced or possessed by something. Because he was never someone who could hurt others.

This character didn't harm Ai… I truly believe he wouldn't have hurt her. Everything he’s doing now, in his own way, is probably for Ai. It’s just that he’s gone mad.

And thus, you can infer he's in such a serious condition, yet it hasn’t been highlighted at all.

They made his past so tragic and horrifying (I try to thoroughly analyze the character's psychological state; as I mentioned before, I try to sync up with their emotions…), and yet, with this character, there are parts I just can’t dive into because it’s too overwhelming. It’s plainly obvious. He’s not in his right mind right now. He’s too depressed and tormented to be alive.

Think about it, he’s been through extremely serious things since he was at least ten years old, maybe even younger… Just thinking about it makes me… I once considered exploring this, incorporating to my works, but I simply couldn’t. I really couldn’t… it’s too horrifying!

If the author had written him in a way where he turned into a serial killer because he developed a hatred for women or something like that, I wouldn’t have been able to forgive it. Even though I haven’t experienced such things, I feel I know enough of it to say that would be too shallow, convenient, and disrespectful. That’s really not how you handle such material. It’s beyond lazy—it's irresponsible. But I didn’t think it would go that way.

Whether this character ends up being revealed as the ultimate villain or not, if they’ve created a character like this and don’t address it properly, it’s not respectful to the character. It’s too much…

But I believe that the creators have a certain affection for what they’ve created, so I trust they’ll handle it. I just… want to see it handled properly. I think the delay is because they couldn’t fully express it while the anime was airing. They keep taking breaks and adjusting their pace; part of it might be due to the creators’ conditions, but I think they might have deliberately delayed introducing new content to match the anime’s schedule.

Honestly, I got into this because I knew. I realized, "Ah, this is what this character is going through."

He really liked Ai. It was set up in a way that he had no other choice but to become that way.

Other characters have their own core identity, right? Even if you strip away all their relationships with other characters, they have something of their own.

But when you look at this character, from the planning stage, everything was set to align with Ai, and without Ai, the character itself wouldn’t exist…;; He just collapses. Like in the lyrics, "I can’t live without Ai." The only consolation is that Ai truly did love him back… It’s like, the creators made this character specifically as a match for Ai, you know?

When you create a character like that, it’s only right to handle it in a way that makes that visible.

About his relationship with Ai… it’s not like I just think they look good together or something… It’s more like, when you look at the story and the way the characters are built, it’s obvious that they were made that way!!!

But even in the current situation and how ugly it is, there's one reason I think Ai made a good choice in picking him as her husband. She picked a extremely handsome guy and passed down superior looks to their kids haha. When you look at him, it doesn't make it seem like Ai is way out of his league in terms of looks, does it? She met someone who matched her well and dated him, that’s how it feels. I’m pretty sure they’re really gods, you know? They’re like the god of entertainment and the god of light. Their story is just too similar… they resemble each other so much… If you look at mythology, Ame-no-Uzume’s husband just fell for her at first sight, got swept along, married her, and they even shared a shrine, living happily together… Ame-no-Uzume just barged into his domain, made herself at home, and they got together right away. That god really married well. He ruled over not just one or two domains, but was a supreme indigenous deity and was considered just and noble… It’s like, “Oh, I like this one,” and she picked him like that. And judging by the drawings, Ame-no-Uzume was really beautiful… She was incredibly cute… I was so happy looking at that mythology. They bless the couple’s fate and marriage because they’re satisfied and happy with each other. People even make masks of the two gods and wear them together during festivals.

Look, if I’m a romance writer and I want to write something related to the entertainment industry, and I borrow mythology, and I know this couple's mythology? And then I write a story like this? Well… from my perspective, Kamiki is a mad god who went crazy after losing his wife. He genuinely loved Ai. Look at his expression in chapter 162. It’s the same as in chapter 153. He loved her that much, and on top of that, she was his savior, his lover, and even the mother of his child, raising them risking everything she's got. He believes she died because of his mistake—so what would he do? He might have thought about following her in death but couldn’t, so he thought, "If I do something, maybe Ai will come back." And when that didn’t work, he just ended up desperately wanting to see Ai again… I think that’s what drove him mad. I don’t think he’s in his right mind. He’s totally lost it. I mean, who could stay sane after losing someone like that for over a decade?

It’s not like the readers should have to guess why he’s fallen apart like this, right? It’s time for the story to show us. I’m really struggling with this—making deductions, writing, drawing—and every time a new chapter is released, people come to me, feeling sad or offering comfort. Seriously, I’m fine! isn’t it? Aren’t the creators romance writers? How could they not cover this? It’s not just about the couple—this is such rich material, and not using it would be a waste, don’t you think? And it doesn’t make sense… Why would they write it so that Ai loved someone truly strange? It’s not like that. Ugh, seriously.

As I always say, it’s not my work, so I could be completely wrong.

Still… it just feels like such a waste. Not using this? Not doing this?

I think all the clues are there… They’re doing this on purpose. Just wait and see. I’m not called the Prophet-type for nothing (INFJ)? When it comes to things like this, my intuition isn’t that bad. There are a lot of things I’ve figured out as soon as I saw them.

What’s frustrating about this manga is that if the plot progression itself is confusing, that’s fine as a mystery element.

But here, they give you all the answers, then pretend they haven’t, dragging things out while playing dumb. That really makes me go, “What are they doing?” It’s like they show all the answers and then, without reason, go off on a tangent. It’s like entering the destination into a navigation system, knowing where you’re supposed to go, but steering the car in the opposite direction for three hours.

Then, they turn around like nothing happened and head towards the destination. It’s pointless. If you don’t know the destination from the start, there’s a thrill as you go. But this just looks like foolishness. It’s like, eventually, it’ll come to this conclusion, but the story gives you the answer upfront and then insists, "Actually, no~" and lies about it. I don’t think it’s a very good method. It’s tiring…

Maybe it works in a volume format, but reading it as it’s released makes you wonder, "What’s even going on here?"

Haha, I came into this with confidence. At this point, there’s quite a bit that’s built up.

When I think about it, I’ve gotten all the critical parts right. Look at the expressions Kamiki makes when he looks at Ai. Does he look like someone who would order Ryosuke to kill Ai just because she rejected him?

This guy just can’t come to his senses after Ai’s death. He’s been doing everything he could just to see Ai again.

And if you’re still confused, the answer is always in Ai’s video message.

Would Ai, of all people, say she wanted to live forever with someone who ordered her death? That’s not how you write that story. The answer was already there, so I don’t know what this manga is doing.

That's why I'm not worried about Aqua right now! I'm mad! LOL. Hey, your dad definitely loved your mom more than anyone else in the entire world. He loved her more than his own life. Well, maybe you put Ruby first… But seriously, is he really so crazy that he tried to kill Ruby just to save Ai?!

But if that's the case, then it means he's not in his right mind, so he needs an exorcism…;;

How could Aqua not understand what kind of person his dad is, even after playing him as his role? Why can't he get a sense of it? Why didn't he listen, and instead tried to drown him in the ocean? Why did he do that? Is he really that evil? Am I missing something? Why are you like this? I can’t sympathize with it—was that really the only way? It doesn’t look that way to me. This is like a parade of fools, seriously. Did I completely miss the mark? Am I really wrong? Did I get everything wrong, and did I fail to see it properly? Then why does Ai’s video message say what it does?

Aqua, please get a grip. And Kamiki is out of his mind. He needs to go to a hospital. Seriously. What is all this?

That's all.

[axel-skz]

Surpriise 🥳

A/N: I’m starting maybe an hour after my last fic… I don’t know how long this will take me to write but I’m impressed with how fast I managed to think something up lol. You might not be because the quality is meh |||| I’m going to try to make this more lighthearted… idk if future me will carry that sentiment but lets hope she does… goodluck 💀 Song shuffle on this and we got my universe :)))

Summary: Changbin had been busy with his tour and away from you for too long so you plan to surprise him.

Changbin x gender neutral reader

Changbin had been on tour for 2 months now. It was so difficult for both of you to deal with. What he didn’t know though, was that you had a surprise visit planned. All the guys were in on it.

They had been texting you non stop about how changbin had been pouting constantly, scrolling through pictures of you and complaining about how lonely he was. It felt like there was a thunder cloud hovering over him and anytime he smiled it was for a show or because you called.

You were packing your stuff as you got a call from him. You panicked for unknown reasons because unless you pointed your camera, specificaly at your suitcase, your room looked exactly the same.

You picked up the video call, ‘HEYYYY! YOU TOOK A WHOLE 5 RINGS TO PICK UP!! WHY?! HAVE I BEEN GONE TOO LONG? DO YOU NOT LOVE ME ANYMORE!?’ He threw out his wild theories and you couldn’t help but laugh.

‘It’s only been 2 months. Don’t worry, I still have faint memories of us together. Although… I think they’re fading…who are you?’ You said seriously and he gasped.

‘I KNEW IT! I’m gonna die alone oh my god…’

‘I’m the one losing memories, god, way to make your tour all about you.” You laughed.

He squinted at you, ‘you’re mean.’

‘I’m also one of your favourite people in the world. Did you call just to list off traits of mine?’

‘No. I miss you and your ungrateful ass,’ he pouted as he flopped back on his bed.

‘Don’t talk bad about my ass. It’s right there,’ you were walking out of your room when you tripped over your bag.

Good one, smart stuff.

It peaked his interest, ‘you good? What did you trip over?’

‘Oh no, I’m ok, I’m just unable to walk,’ you said in a hurry.

He got worried, ‘did you hurt yourself?’

‘NO! I just mean… I haven’t been doing much so I… forgot…’

Yeah, you’re so good at this. He’ll totally believe that. 🙄

‘You… forgot…how to walk..??’

‘Yeah, your face is so distracting and everything over the top of everything… My brain just couldn’t fathom anything else.’

This seemed to distract him and you guys talked about what had been going on recently. You managed to not fall face first somewhere after that and everything went well.

Your flight was 3 days later and you were so excited. You had told the guys to make sure changbin was distracted so he didn’t text or call you. The poor baby would think you were ignoring him.

When you landed, you rested up at the hotel you would be at temporary before their next concert. Your plan was to appear in the audience and he would look so surprised to see you. Then you would duck and make him think he imagined it.

It was mean but you would appear backstage so… no harm no foul.

Everything was going to plan and now you had seungmin walking you to a safe place to get some food before you went to the floor.

You met them all except changbin and it was so refreshing. You were just aching to hug changbin again. Although your wish came true when he walked past the room. He looked in, saw you and carried on walking because obviously he wasn’t expecting you to be there.

Jisung pushed you behind the sofa and sat in your place.

Changbin came charging back in, ‘Y/N???’

‘All these years together and I thought you knew my name,’ jisung fake cried. ‘After everything we’ve been through.’

Jeongin laughed, ‘he’s hallucinating again. God, you really can’t be away from them, can you?’

‘Codependency be like,’ hyunjin tacked on with a giggle.

Changbin sighed and side eyed the members as he left the room. ‘I’m not codependent… I just love them a lot. All your single, lonely asses can’t talk,’ he mumbled with a pout.

When he was definitely gone, Chan let you know the coast was clear. You stepped out with laughs, ‘shots fired! Damn.’

Hyunjin scowled at you, ‘Y/N shut up or so help me, I’ll call him back.’

You immediately stopped smiling and sobered up. You were about to say something but then you pretended to zip your mouth shut and gave him an overly big smile.

You spent a little more time eating then moved to go to the floor. With their help obviously, you didn’t want to accidentally run into changbin.

You were having fun, all the songs on this album were SO good. You made eye contact with changbin then he looked away but he looked back, frantically scanning the audience. You had ducked and he couldn’t find you again, he blinked a bunch, took a breath and moved away from that area.

You did this 2 more times and every time, he looked more and more confused. When the concert ended, you made your way to the security guard who would help you get backstage. It took you a little while to sift through the crowd but eventually, you made it.

As you got closer to their changing rooms, you could hear changbin talking.

‘I have no idea what’s wrong with me. I thought it was a wierd moment before but now… I actually keep seeing them everywhere. Like I could’ve sworn they were in the audience,’ you could hear him sniffling, ‘I wish I could go home… atleast for a bit.’

You knocked on the door and he opened the door. His jaw dropped as he stood there, staring at you.

‘Mail for a… ‘Changbin’? We have a package for a ‘Seo Changbin’,’ you said casually.

He turned and looked at everyone else, ‘you’re seeing this too right? They’re here? I’m not about to hug a mail man to death?’

Everyone laughed and yelled surprise. He turned around so fast and within a second, you were in a soul crushing hug.

‘I missed you too baby but I do need my ribs after this so…’ you wheezed as you lightly hugged him back. He loosened the hug with a quiet sorry.

After you had all calmed down, everyone laughed at how absolutely confused changbin looked on stage. He also apologised for calling them all lonely asses when jeongin reminded him.

It was a good day. You spent the next 2 weeks with them and loved every moment of it.

A/N: I hope this makes up for me making some of you cry in the first fic LMAO I wanted to add so much angst to this but I’ll let this be. You can all be distraught on the next one 😈 I’m really showcasing my dry sense of humour in this one 💀

[I’ve tried to look over it but if there’s anything that isn’t gender neutral about the reader, lemme know and I’ll fix it]

[sysakiddo]

5 times Lewis confronted Sebastian about his writing and one time he did not have to

1.

“You're not even listening to me.” Lewis, for lack of a better word, whines. He has a deep crease between his eyebrows. Sebastian wants to tell him the wrinkle will stay there, just to see him panic. Though he manages to hide it, Lewis is really vain sometimes. 

“I'm kind of busy at the moment.” No apology. “You were saying?” 

The room is too hot and sticky for Sebastian to play mind games with Lewis. He wants to be alone and count down the minutes to when he can take a cold bath. 

Suddenly, Lewis moves quickly, soundlessly. He likes to remind Sebastian he is a cheetah, with or without a car. 

Sebastian does not manage to hide the tab he had opened. As a rule, these days, he is not fast enough. 

“Seriously, Seb? The Times crossword is more important than what I'm telling you?” 

“I would never dream of saying you're not the most important thing in the world.” the blond huffs, feeling mean now. 

He is very obviously fishing for a reaction and Lewis knows it. From previous experiences, he also knows the fight would not bring him any gratification. He smiles tightly instead, sitting down on the couch. 

Sebastian glares at him, hating how Lewis looks like he belongs there. Like there is no place where he belongs more than on the couch in Seb's driver's room. 

“I finally read your book. The one about the spies, Burning Snow?” he clarifies as if Sebastian doesn't know the plot and names of his own books. 

And look, Sebastian is still mad at whoever leaked his identity to the press. It is more than a month since the whole world discovered that he, Sebastian Vettel, four times world champion, is also an acclaimed author. He published all of his books under a pseudonym, which worked pretty well. Until now. 

The people in the paddock took it in stride. Out of them, who looked like they could write a book that became a bestseller long before his identity had been revealed? The bee rescuer is the only one fit for the job. 

Valterri was the first to go through the bulk of his publications, three novels and one book for kids. 

Your writing is pretty good. Maybe you should try and publish it someday :) 

The text from Valterri after he finished made him huff, but deep down, something in his chest had eased. 

Lewis, however, was weirdly evasive on the topic. He was apprehensive about reading any of Seb's work and only got to it when Valterri left all of the books on his desk, with a post-it note on the top. 

READ IT!!!

Immediately after finishing the first chapter of the first novel, he regretted not starting earlier. Uncovering the similarities between the side characters and the people in the paddock was a lot of fun. It felt like an intimate look into the story that Seb's readers wouldn't normally get. One of the characters, the one who actually holds the key to the climax of the story and is far more important than the reader would have thought at first, is based on him, he thinks. Lewis only puts it together at the end. It's the way the character's dialogues are written that gives it away. He thinks it fascinating to find out how Sebastian privately perceives him. He describes him with great detail, things that Lewis wouldn't think to notice about him even. The thought of being so closely watched makes the top of his ears heat up. 

Now, Sebastian is watching him, unimpressed. “You can read?” 

Lewis keeps ignoring him - it works most of the time. “My favourite was Thomas, naturally.” 

The top of Seb's cheeks turns bright red.  “N-narcissist.” He tries to keep his composure, shaking his head a little. The stutter exposes him and Lewis smirks like he has just won. And his trophy is sitting on a stool in front of him. 

“Well, I gotta run now. I'll come back with a review of book number two!” 

Seb is too overwhelmed to react before Lewis slips out of the door. He sighs, returning to his crossword.

2.

The next time Seb sees Lewis, he curses the way his heart flutters in his chest when he sees his smile. 

“I tried the recipe, you know,” Lewis lets his hand linger on Seb's forearm as he stops him in his stride. They are both rushing to get to the debrief on time. Lewis does not care. 

At Seb's quizzical face, he puckers his lips a little in annoyance. “The one from Freedom to Pheasants; what Matilda used to offer her cousins when they came over. I, of course, used soya yoghurt and I still had a little bit of the honey you gave me-” Seb opens his mouth to interrupt him but does not succeed. “I used almond butter and cherries instead of raspberries and let it freeze for a few hours. Why didn't you tell me sooner? It is delicious.” 

“We really have to go, guys.” the intern standing beside them looks like he regretted taking this job and would rather jump off the cliff than listen about frozen yoghurt treats for another minute. 

“Did you like it? The book, I mean.” Seb asked, feeling like a kid asking for compliments on his drawing. He regrets it almost immediately. Lewis flashes him a big smile, open and sincere, the sight only a few people are graced with. 

“Yeah, man. The dialogues were spectacular.” 

When Seb opens the freezer in his motorhome a few hours later, he is taken aback by a small white box with a sharpie-drawn smiley on top. When he opens it, five perfectly symmetrical yoghurt bites punch the air out of his lungs, like he missed a stair. With shaky hands, he fishes out one and takes a bite. The aftertaste of honey in his mouth makes his eyes water. 

3.

“Seb! Seb! Sebastian!” the whispering grows louder with each call of his name and Sebastian feels himself getting pulled out of the slumber. He groans loud enough for the woman sitting next to him, someone from McLaren's marketing team, to glare at him. 

“What?” he snaps at Lewis, the other man taken aback. He doesn't expect to see the dark circles under Seb's eyes, his ashen skin looking almost white. 

He gulps, worry bubbling in his chest. “Care to join me for dinner?” 

The German sighs, hunching in his chair even more. He jerks his shoulders, which Lewis takes as an affirmative response. 

A few hours later, every corner of Lewis' apartment is filled with quiet music. Seb is watching his every move from the bar stool in his kitchen. Lewis feels weirdly exposed like that, chopping onions for their dinner, even though it isn't the first time he has made dinner for Sebastian. Not by a long shot. 

“Daniel must have been thrilled,” he cuts the silence abruptly. Seb doesn't understand and makes a go-ahead gesture with his hand. “When he found out you based the main character on him, I mean.” 

“Oh,” Sebastian smiles bashfully. “You've read This room can not be eaten?” 

Lewis nods. The book for kids took him the shortest to read, naturally. To his bewilderment, he enjoyed it a lot. After he had finished, he immediately bought a copy for every kid in his family. 

“I don't think Daniel had realised Rick is based on him, actually.” Seb chuckles, his eyes lighting up in joy. 

Sebastian starfishes on the couch after they finish eating. Lewis pours them a second glass of wine and sits down next to him. Carefully, carefully. 

The German looks better after eating, though he still very clearly lacks energy. Lewis turns on the television, mainly as the white noise. 

He falls asleep in no time, and Lewis stands up to put the fluffiest blanket on him. He makes sure both his shoulders are covered, hesitating a bit before brushing the stray strands of hair out of his forehead. 

When he sits down, Sebastian whines softly and puts his cold feet under Lewis' thighs. 

Lewis lets himself hope. 

4.

The next time they see each other, Lewis is a few drinks in, talking a little louder than he usually would. Seb finds him laughing in a circle of a few of their friends. He is like a magnet, though he never fully realised how much power he holds in a crowd of people. 

“Birthday boy!” Seb beams at Charles, hugging him firmly. He already congratulated him this morning with a gift and a proper speech. Now, it's time to clink his glass with him, which, he personally thinks, is too old to do properly. 

Either way, he lets himself get lost in the conversation. Charles, Lewis and Daniel make it easy for the debate to flow without his input. 

“Oh, Seb, I almost forgot! Arthur told me to tell you he loved When I Was Older! He wanted to know if it would be okay to ask you some questions later.” 

The attention shifts to Seb after Charles' words. Stupidly, he can feel his cheeks flush. “Eh, thank you. I appreciate that. Sure, send him my way when you see him.” 

“He kept talking about the plot twist for days. I still haven't finished the first one - I'm sorry, I'm such a slow reader - but yeah, Arthur thinks the sequel is even better.” 

Lewis snorts. Charles whips his head towards him, surprised. The same goes for Sebastian. Sure, the reviews for the second book in the spies series were mixed. But he thought the bad reviews were biased - the book came out at the same time his alias got revealed. 

“You did not like it?” Charles asks naively. He hasn't been sober for hours now. 

The Brit looks affronted by the idea of liking the book. “I hated it.” he spits and, yeah. Sebastian is shocked at just how much those words hurt. He has no resources to hide it, so instead, he bares his teeth in a leering smile. 

To his great surprise, Daniel joins in. “Well, of course, what Thomas did was questionable, but that made the plot twist even better.” 

Lewis is not buying what Daniel is selling. “Nah, it was stupid and made no sense, man. Why would Thomas betray his lover if-” If he is based on me. He almost blurted it out, thankfully cutting himself off before he could do something he would regret. 

Still, Sebastian averts his gaze, bashful. The tension in the air is tangible and Charles, not wired to understand bad vibes, as he calls it, asks him another question. 

“Are you working on something now?” 

Seb looks at Lewis when he lies through his teeth. “No. I think I'm quite done.” 

5.

That's the reason why, three weeks after the party, when Lewis sees a post on his insta feed with Seb's picture and BOOK ALERT in big red letters, he clicks on it. He is doubtful at first, but then it turns out that, yes, Sebastian really published a new book during the winter break. It is a poetry experiment, explains Seb himself in the interview Lewis reads through. 

Unexplainably, his hands shake as he tries to google a page where he can buy the poetry collection. When he finally finds it, he curses. Seb wrote a poetry book in fucking German. 

He has no shame and immediately calls him to ask about the translation. 

“No, I do not think it will get translated.” Seb is wary. “Why?” 

“I would like to read it, that's all.” 

Seb snorts, can't help himself. Why would you want to read it if you hate my writing so much.

“Well,” he says instead. “I've told you a long time ago German could be useful.” 

Lewis pays big bucks to the publishing house to make the translation happen in the shortest time possible. He makes sure Sebastian has no idea he is the one who pushes for the English translation and pays off everyone, so it stays that way. 

Out of all places, they are in the aeroplane when it all falls apart. 

Sebastian is returning from the bathroom when he notices what Lewis is holding. 

“Jesus, don't read that around me.”

“Why?” Lewis asks. “You don't have to be weird about it. It's great.” Lewis wouldn't say he is a poetry guy by any means. But there is something about Sebastian's words that curl off pages, sticking like caramel and breezing through his chest like a breath of fresh air. Sebastian's poetry is shockingly emotional, exposing his feelings with a sort of bravery Lewis has never felt. Most of them are reflections, sweet or poignant. Lewis can clearly see the inspiration from the Swiss nature, and the relationship with his family. It's beautiful. 

Yet the ones that cut through his heart like a burning knife are the heartbreaking stanzas of unrequited love. And even though Seb states that not all poems are inspired by a personal experience in the prologue, Lewis knows poems like these cannot be fabricated. The one he's stuck on at the moment, Absolution, makes Lewis a bit dizzy. 

In the seat across from him, Sebastian shrugs. “If you say so.” 

“I mean, these love poems, man. They must have broken your heart. How come you've never told me?” 

The pronouns sit awkwardly on his tongue, and he watches Seb squirm a bit. 

“It did not feel like there was something to talk about. It would - I don't think it could ever work between-” he pauses, hauling a slow breath through his nose. He rubs his eyes with his right hand like always when he is agitated. He also forgets to use the eyedrops for his dry eyes;  Lewis usually has to remind him. “Between him and me, I guess. I could never be the one for him.” He trips over his words.

Lewis blinks, feeling all turned out. He tries to process the words that feel too much like a confession to him. 

“I doubt that, Seb.” He says earnestly. “I doubt anyone would find you anything but-” Perfect. 

Sebastian interrupts him, a painful grimace on his face. “Just - just stop.” Suddenly, he looks exhausted and resigned all at once. “You must know, Lewis.” 

Seb is not looking at him and misses the look of utter shock on his  face. “Me?” Lewis feels like there is cotton in the back of his mouth. “But- But I-” 

“You what?” snaps Sebastian, his face closed off now. He managed to build his walls high enough that it took more than a little love confession to make them crumble. 

Lewis' head spins. There is just no way, no way that Sebastian could wax poetic about him. It's hard to breathe, and his face turns splotchy red. 

“But you've never told me. Or reacted when I tried -” 

“Oh, trust me, Lewis, I would have noticed if you had tried.” 

“Sebastian.” he says, his voice breaking with the possibilities flashing through his mind. Sebastian is brave and he can be, too. “I have loved you for years.” 

Now it's Seb's turn to look shocked. “But- You always-” he stutters, unable to finish. 

“Come here,” Lewis beacons him over and Seb sits down next to him without hesitation. Lewis leans in and caresses Seb's cheek with his right hand. “You are very silly,” he presses their lips together and the feeling of Seb relaxing completely under him makes Lewis' fingers tingly. 

+1 

“Hurry up!” Sebastian is wearing an atrocious old flannel shirt. Lewis swears he has put it in the 'donate' cabinet twice already, yet it always finds its way back. 

He walks to the table where Seb sits, a big red box in front of him. “Open it,” he instructs and Lewis opens the lid. 

“I wanted you to be the first to hold it.” 

Lewis takes out the brand-new book in awe. When he opens it, the pages smell so good he closes his eyes for a second. He flips the pages until he finds what he is looking for. The dedication says: 

Love, I've seen it all. I've seen the sunrises in Africa, the sunsets in Asia. The sun shining on the Mediterranean, the snow melting in the Alps. I've seen fireworks meant just for me, the beauty of the never-ending road. Seeing you smile beats them all. 

For Lewis.