#that does not smell like they care that much

[animamii]

"Fushiguro, that's your girl?" One of Toji's block mates asks, eyeing one of the many pictures Toji had of you taped to the slate gray brick wall. It was a simple picture, your hair was wavy in this one, a cute dimply smile, lashes curled as you looked all natural. But god, were you still stunning. Toji looks up from the thing he was doing, sitting in the steel chair that was bolted down to the floor.

"Yup, that's my ol' lady," looking up at the picture he can't help but proudly smile. Toji's wall is covered in pictures. Of you, of Megumi. The whole family. Cute pictures you took with each other before he got locked up. It was his motivation to stay straight while being inside. To remind him of what's waiting for him when he gets out.

The block mate lets out a low whistle, nodding approvingly as he leans back against the cold wall. “Damn. She bad.” His celly's eyes roam over the pictures. Ones where you're dressed up all pretty, makeup done perfectly. Ones where you're wrapped around one of Toji's arms, looking up at him with all the adoration in the world. Even the ones that show just a little too much, which Toji keeps right next to where he lays his head.

Toji chuckles, shaking his head. “Watch it.” There’s no real threat in his voice, but there’s an edge of warning that makes the other guy hold his hands up in surrender.

“Ain’t mean no disrespect, Fushiguro,” he says, still looking at the pictures. “Just sayin’. You lucky.”

Toji doesn’t need to be told that. He already knows. It’s what gets him through the long nights, the endless hum of fluorescent lights, the hostility of the barbed wire that separates him from the outside. Knowing you're out there, waiting, is the only thing that keeps him from losing his damn mind.

He leans back against the desk he sits in front of, arms folding across his broad chest, eyes fixed on the pictures. His ol’ lady. His girl. His anchor in a life that never gave him much stability.

A slow smirk tugs at his lips. He can still hear your voice, that soft, teasing lilt whenever you’d call him by his full name just to mess with him. “Toji Fushiguro,” you’d say, dragging it out, pretending to scold him, even though your eyes always gave you away. He lived for those moments.

“Bet she writin’ you, huh?” the block mate asks. “You get letters?”

Toji nods. “Every week.” And he does. Neatly folded pages that smell like you, inked with words that remind him that he’s still human. That he’s still yours. That he still has something waiting for him beyond these walls. But god, does he miss you.

“Damn,” the block mate mutters, shaking his head in disbelief. “Every week? That’s real love right there.”

Toji just smirks again, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a folded piece of paper, edges worn from being opened and closed too many times. He doesn’t even need to read it again—he’s already memorized every damn word—but still, he unfolds it, running a calloused thumb over the handwriting. Your handwriting.

Hey, baby. I know you hate when I get all mushy, but I don’t care. I miss you. I miss you so much it drives me crazy sometimes. But I’ll wait. However long it takes, I’ll wait. You better be eating, staying out of trouble, and keeping that smart-ass mouth in check. (Okay, maybe not too much. You know I love that about you.)

Toji chuckles to himself, shaking his head. Yeah, you knew him too damn well.

Megumi misses you too, even if he acts all tough about it. You should’ve seen his face when I told him your letter came. He’s just like you, y’know? Won’t say how he really feels, but it’s all there in his eyes.

Toji swallows hard, jaw clenching. Megumi. His kid. Another reason for pushing through this hellhole. He pictures him—too serious for his own good, but with those same sharp blue eyes. His boy.

“Yo, Fushiguro,” another voice calls out, snapping him from his thoughts. One of the guards. “Mail just came in.”

Toji is already up before the guy even finishes his sentence, heart pounding just a little faster. The guard hands the baby pink envelope with a lazy flick of the wrist, and Toji snatches it up quick, already recognizing the familiar scrawl of his name across the front.

His block mate lets out a laugh. “Man, look at you. Actin’ like a kid on Christmas.” Toji was always stoic, kept to himself and never showed much emotion. But hey, you always brought it out of him and he wasn't gonna front or hold a facade when it came to how he felt about you.

Toji doesn’t respond. He just sits back down, thumbs sliding under the flap of the envelope, tearing it open like it’s the only thing keeping him breathing in this godforsaken place. The first thing that falls out is a polaroid. His breath catches. It’s you.

You're sitting by a window, sunlight spilling over your skin, that soft, gentle smile on your lips. His girl. His sweetheart. Looking at him like she sees something in him that even he has trouble believing in sometimes. And just like that, the walls of the prison don’t feel so damn suffocating. He’s got something to hold onto.

Toji runs a thumb over the polaroid, like he could somehow feel you through it. The picture is warm, soft, a stark contrast to the cold steel and concrete around him. He exhales through his nose, staring at it for a long moment before finally unfolding the letter.

Your words hit him like they always do—gentle, teasing, but full of something deeper. Something that reminds him why he’s still holding on.

Hey, baby. I hope you’re not making the guards’ lives too hard. (Who am I kidding? I know you are.) It’s been getting colder here. I keep stealing your hoodie, the one you always say is yours but smells like me now. Tough luck, Fushiguro, it’s mine until you come back and take it from me.

Toji smirks, shaking his head. She’s gonna pay for that one.

Megumi’s been doing good in school, but I had to threaten to ground him just to get him to eat something other than instant ramen. He’s stubborn, just like his old man.

His smirk fades a little. He can picture it—Megumi sitting at the dinner table, arms crossed, trying to act like he doesn’t care. Just like Toji used to. The guilt settles in his chest, heavy and unshakable. He just wishes he could be there. For the both of you.

We miss you. I miss you.

He stops, lingering on that line. Simple, but enough to send a slow ache through his ribs.

I don’t care how long it takes. You come back to me, Toji. We’re waiting.

Toji exhales sharply, pressing the paper between his fingers, his grip a little too tight.

“Damn,” his block mate mutters, watching him. “She really ridin’ for you, huh?”

Toji just nods. He doesn’t need to say anything. He folds the letter carefully, tucking it away with the others. Getting up, he sticks some tape of the back of the polaroid, putting it up next to the rest of the pictures. Then he leans back in his chair, looking up at the mosaic of pictures you send him.

Yeah. She’s waiting. And he sure as hell isn’t gonna let her down.

[leyavo]

Wife/girlfriend series, I wanted to do some more for the other TF 141 guys after doing Ghost’s, Gaz & Soap. John Price is much older than the others and a bit set his ways….

[masterlist]

Price is on his third wife, you.

The last one bled him dry in the divorce, but that still didn’t put him off marriage.

His family not bothered to get to know you as much as the first and second wife. As if they know you’ll get fed up with him and his ways.

You can tell why he hasn’t had any luck with women. The man is terrible at doing laundry, grumbles to himself instead of talking and smokes like a chimney. Set in his ways, he finds it hard to break away from it.

“Breath of fresh air, darling,” he says to you as you chuck his dirty laundry at him.

“Clean your own crap, I’m not your maid or your mother!” You snapped, taking the cigar from his lips and smushing the end into the ashtray.

John Price just kept pushing and pushing, liking that you set boundaries with him and unintentionally made him get his shit together. He loves it when you tell him what to do.

You never wanted him to change, just wanted him to get a grip on his life.

“I have a career too, I might not be a bloody captain, but what I do matters too.” You work for a social impact company, helping young kids and teens going through poverty in your county. The same kindness John loves as he watches you interact with the people around you.

You were once that kid, struggling to get by and caring for your mother. The one thing you didn’t want, was for everything to fall on you like it did as a kid. You’re firm with it, telling John exactly how it felt. How his actions made you feel.

Well you did break up briefly, only for him to come crawling back. He still has his moments, a little mopey and lazy whenever he’s back from a long mission, but that’s normal.

He likes that you understand his vulnerability, likes the way you whisper that he is safe and protected whenever a nightmare tears him awake. It’s small quiet moments where he loves you most. The brush of your fingers over his knuckles or you palm over his chest as he tries to catch his breath. The way you giggle as his beard and moustache tickle your neck as he kisses you there.

And John gives you a home, security. One thing no one else has. The reassurance that there’s always food stocked up in the fridge and a set schedule for the heating to come on when the temperature drops. That if you can’t do something he’ll help you do it. So nothing has to be on just your shoulders.

Helps you down at the soup kitchen now and again when he’s back home, cleaning all the dishes so that your hands don’t get a rash from the washing up gloves. Little things that make your heart swell.

How he learnt how to knit during the autumn, so he can help you make hats for the homeless. It helps him distress, sometimes even does it in his room back at base to wind down. Currently knitting you some socks too.

Even in charge of the laundry when he comes home, loves the scent of detergent that he grumbles when it’s discontinued and he has to get used to another.

“Bloody found it.” The first thing John says to you as he unpacks his gear. Accidentally letting slip where he was stationed and how he got the discontinued detergent in another country.

And when you ask why he can’t just let it go. “Smells like you, darling.” He’s liked it since the first time you did his washing. Reminds him of home when he puts his civilian clothes back on, always a set put to the side for him to wear home.

When you meet the guys you’re surprised about the dynamic. How John easily gets them to listen and lay down the rules before they enter the house. Shoes come off straight away etc. no smoking indoors but on the patio outside. Watch out for the two chihuahuas running about the house and check underneath the blankets before you sit on the sofa.

One particular chihuahua not moving from Simon’s lap, that he stays in the armchair for ages till the dog wakes up. Johnny and Kyle telling you the most embarrassing stories of the captain, that one time his trousers split in an important briefing and no one told him, but everyone noticed. John doesn’t mind though as he likes the sound of your laugh.

[theonewhopoops]

Adding my only thought because of the term "cutesy" in regards to the joy sparking: that IS also an important aspect of letting go of the survival mentality. Her idea of whether or not something sparks joy is also made fun of and disrespected, but when you've lived your whole life in poverty - using things you picked up off the sidewalk or by a dumpster, or living off hand-me-downs, or grabbing something from a thrift store that wasn't what you wanted but it will work you guess, or buying something from Walmart or the dollar store because it's the cheapest option you could find, all while living in shitty rented apartments that you don't get to paint or customize or fix or renovate.... it makes life miserable. It makes Stuff about utilitarian necessity and it surrounds you with shit you hate because you NEED it.

When you're surrounded by shitty garbage that you hate, and you have to use things that are cheap or flimsy or they suck or they're ugly, it makes you feel like nothing you do ever makes a difference. It makes you feel like nothing will ever be better because everywhere you turn, something sucks, and no matter how many needs you meet, nothing feels better, and nothing is ever easier. It's hard to care about your space when it feels like nothing is YOURS and nothing MATTERS, and you feel like shit all the time, AND there's SO MUCH OF IT EVERYWHERE!!!

Just the very nature of having things you like in your home is a huge difference. And when you aren't hoarding because you're surviving, you can start picking the items you like and letting the others go. Like, you can finally get rid of the cheap plastic plates and cups that you never really liked using and they all have damage or they smell kinda weird, and instead you keep the handful of nice ceramic plates and you keep the coffee mug that you received as a birthday gift. Things like that. The "does it spark joy" mentality is actually really important when you're trying to rewire your brain out of survival mode, too.

All this being said, I am not disagreeing with OP in any way really, just adding on. Marie Kondo has been memed on and disrespected in a lot of ways by a lot of people, but her guidance and psychological advice around cleaning and decluttering is genuinely spot-on from top to bottom.

you know, the more i think about it, the angrier i get about how mainstream media and even people in general treated marie kondo when the life changing magic of tidying up got big. it's just so unnecessary and sad to me and i think the vast majority of people would love what she has to say if they just actually looked into it instead of maliciously memeing her to death? i'm not talking about the cutesy does it spark joy stuff but all the things portraying her as some bizarre evil cleaning dictator.

i actually read her book when i was about twelve years old, in the most shocking and probably only example of me ever being ahead of a trend, and even at twelve i really loved everything she said. at that point in time i lived in fear of my mother's threats that she would come and throw everything away while i was school, and my small and very adhd mind simply could not grasp the concept of "have less stuff". have less of WHICH stuff? how? i'd never actually been taught how to clean my room besides being told "pick up stuff" and "be organized", and as she points out multiple times, cleaning is not an intuitive thing. it's a learned behavior and skill.

anyways. her entire philosophy centers on surrounding yourself with things that you love, and only things that you love (or things that you absolutely need). she explicitly says over and over again that it is not about throwing things away, it is not about minimalism, it is not about "what is the smallest amount possible that you can survive on". she literally has a whole section where she talks about how hard it can be to throw things away when you've lived in poverty all your life and you don't have absolute confidence that you can replace something that you really needed if it gets thrown out, even though you're not likely to ever really need it--you've just been conditioned to think that because that's literally how you survive, when you're poor. she talks about how that mindset can serve and how it can damage. she talks about how minimalism is sort of a rich people thing, cause they can afford to throw everything away.

this woman really came out here and said "i want you to be surrounded by things you love and i'm going to validate your fears and your difficulties in getting to that place" and people somehow got mad at her. i don't understand it

[thesuperiorrobin]

She knew~

pairing: Damian Wayne x Crush!Reader

Warning: Agnsty? Not that much I promise, good ending, maybe, slight swearing? Reader is a bit flirty??? I think there’s a part 2.

There's something about laying in a hospital bed that's so humbling for Damian.

His arm was in a cast and his head was wrapped in bandages. A mission went wrong, that was covered up by a so-called "terrible car accident". Everybody believed it, because why would they believe the truth of Damian taking a bad fall dress up in his Robin uniform? Some of his brothers tease him for what had happened that night, and if he wasn't held back by his position in the hospital he was sure he would have all their heads on a stick by now. His father didn't seem any bit worried about him, that's what Damian thought, after the countless scoldings he's gotten he's sure his father doesn't care.

Damian has spent the last two days in the hospital, on the third day he'll be released. And he can't wait, the smell, the atmosphere the so-called food they serve him-- he can't wait to leave it all behind. But for now, Damian lies on the slightly uncomfortable bed with a book in his good hand. His family hasn't bothered him in a while and he's thankful for that, he's gotten used to soft voices through his room door and soft beeping occasionally that seemed to echo through his hospital room.

There’s a soft knock on the door that catches his attention and he groans—thinking it’s one of his family members coming to visit home again.

Damian prays it’s just a nurse coming to check up on him. He chooses not to answer and after a few seconds the door opens up—the person who steps into his dull white room was not the person he was expecting.

In you go, with a bouquet in your hand dressed in your school uniform.

"Hey" your voice is soft and careful "how are you feeling?"

Damian doesn't answer right away, he pretends to think about his answer before he clears his throat "I feel like I could be doing better at the moment" he places his book down.

"Here, these are for you" you hand him the flowers "I just came to see how you were doing, everybody's worried”

"Only because I'm the son of Bruce Wayne" he murmurs, glaring at you softly—scoffing as he does so.

"That's not true" you frown, He gives you a look "Well Maybe, yeah I guess you're right, but I'm worried Damian. I saw the news and the cars. Damian you could have been killed"

"But I wasn't L/N so there is no need to worry about that anymore"

You let out a sigh as you pull a chair beside him on his bed, It's been a while since you last saw him, two weeks to be precise almost three. Your eyes linger on him for a bit longer. He looks more tired than usual and angry. His hair is messy, with strands of hair spiked up in random directions. Though purple and blue covered his skin from head to toe he still seemed visually breathtaking.

"Did you just come here to just stare at me?" He snaps, and you jump back in your seat, a part of him regrets snapping at you so suddenly, that you clear your throat with a smile.

"Sorry, I'm just used to you being….” You trail off for a moment trying to find the right words to not offend the younger Wayne in his condition. “…so well organized. If I had a penny for every time I've seen you a mess I would have one”

His only response was a hum, and the room was silent between you two. The only sound echoing through the room was the soft voices from outside the room and the beeping of the monitor. “It’s quiet in most of the classes now. Did you know that?”

“How so?”

“Teachers pointed out how quiet the classes are since you’ve gotten stuck in the hospital. We’re known for yapping away in the back of class” You let out a breathy laugh, glancing up at Damian who holds a frown.

“You mean yourself?” Damian raises his brow at you “I normally don’t hold conversations. The teachers were probably talking about you—you do tend to talk a lot”

“Rude” You huff out and a chuckle leaves the injured Wayne's lips, which brings a smile to yours “But I guess you’re right, I don’t have anyone to talk to. You’re usually the only have I have a good laugh within class”

Somehow, your hand finds his. All bandaged and bruised but you don’t mind and Damian says nothing. His green eyes glance down at your face, hoping to meet yours but you keep them focused down at his hand. Despite the thick layer of bandages, he can still feel the warmth of your fingers as they softly glide against his palm.

“I miss complementing your artwork, it’s not the same when I’m looking beside me and see someone else’s artwork”

“You only compliment them when you copy my notes” he hums, “you say it as a thank you when I let you do so”

“Mhm..” you hum “but now, every time I look beside me there’s always a student sleeping with their paper blank”

“Maybe you should start writing your notes….”

“I could…” you trail off, head lifting slightly to meet his eyes. “But what’s the point if I can’t use it as an excuse to talk to you?”

It takes a while for Damian to answer fully. He can feel his skin feel out, and he’s sure you can fill it, too, with a smug smile on your face. He looks away, away from your eyes, as he answers, “True….”

There’s another long silence between you two, a comfortable one and Damian can feel your hand slip away from his—it takes so much in him not to grab ahold of your hand once more. He hears the sudden screech of the chair against the floor, he turns his head—eyes locking in on your form. He wishes you could stay a little longer, your presence is the only thing that doesn’t annoy him as much as others do, and a part of him wants to tell you to stay a bit more but he bites his tongue.

He sees your hand hover over the doorknob, and you seem to hesitate for a moment, he does wish you decided to stay a bit longer. A heavy sigh leaves your lips, turning around to glance back at Damian, who only stares at you confusedly.

"Just because you wear a mask in the middle of the night while playing hero Damian, doesn't mean you're invincible"

huh?

"But anyway ill visit you tomorrow so I can hand you the homework you missed"

you give him one last smile before your figure disapears from his sight. Even after you left, his eyes burn holes at the door for a few more minutes before groaning and pulling at his hair in stress

"She knew?!"

Literally in the middle of my Art history class writing this Because I had nothing better to do.

[bbokicidal]

a few more seconds. | skz + hugs

How the boys hug, what they remind you of, and what I think they smell like.

Warnings: None Genre: Fluff/Comfort ig Notes: I'm aware we know some of their actual perfumes but idgaf.

Masterlists : NSFW | SFW

Chris

How he hugs: Chris gives the BEST hugs hands down, no arguments being made. He's all muscle but he's also such a gentleman that he makes sure to never squeeze you too much during hugs and he always keeps his hands in respectful areas. Though when you're stressed, he does give you a wee little squeeze - just so you know he's there and to keep you grounded. What it reminds you of: Home. Chris feels like home. Safety, comfort, and warmth. The feeling of waking up under soft bedsheets in early morning hours to sun peeking through the curtains and the soft hum of birds outside your window. Scent: Tommy Bahama - Maritime Journey [Green apple, Lavender; Violet, Orchid; Moss, Cedarwood]

Minho

How he hugs: Gently, quickly. The type to give you a hug from the side with one arm wrapped around your waist. He's quick about it but it's because it makes him shy; But in late evening hours he'll be wrapped up around you from behind while you cook, his chin on your shoulder and his body swaying with yours. What it reminds you of: Safety. Minho's hugs feel protective yet gentle, shy and fleeting. His touch is calculated and careful, aiming to please but keeping it brisk; And when he does melt into you during late nights, he wants you to know that he will always be there; And you can feel It from the way he refuses to let you go. Scent: Tom Ford - Oud Wood [Cardamom, Pink Pepper, Patchouli]

Changbin

How he hugs: With all his heart. His arms wrap around you knowing you might need him there in the moment, and even if it's not a moment of need - it's a moment of want. He's aware you adore when he hugs you, and he adores it just as much in return; the feeling of you in his arms. You wanted him as much as he wanted you, and that was all he could ask for. What it reminds you of: Love. Changbin keeps you in his arms as long as he can, swaying, humming, talking about whatever it on his mind. His hugs are soft, warm; He presses kisses to your cheeks and sometimes dotes on you while you're flush against him. He makes sure to make every moment count. Scent: Honeyed Tobacco & Oud [Bergamot, Honey, Tobacco Leaf, Coffee, Oud]

Hyunjin

How he hugs: Lingering. Every touch is never fleeting. His arms wrap over your shoulders so he can keep your head close to his chest, and silently he hopes you can hear his heartbeat, too. He lays his hands on you with purpose; To caress every inch, to make sure you know how much he adores you. All of you. What it reminds you of: Warmth. Hyunjin puts all of his passion into his affectionate touches, whether it be the way his hand squeezes your hip or the way he hugs you in early mornings; the way his lips ghost against yours just to tease before he kisses you and then takes his leave for work while giggling. Scent: Tom Ford - Ombre Leather [Cardamom, Jasmine, Black Leather, White Moss, Amber]

Jisung

How he hugs: With all of his might! Jisung's always squeezing you tight when you hug him, his arms wrapped around you as if they'll crush your ribs right in. He's the type to laugh while hugging because he knows it's too much for you but he does it every time anyway. Very lovey, very sweet. Peppers you in kisses afterwards. What it reminds you of: Childhood. His tight hugs, sweet giggle, and beaming, bright grin bring you back to the days you would play with friends outside - and when it was time to part ways, hug each other as tight as possible to say goodbye. It makes you wonder what it would have been like being Jisung's childhood friend. Scent: Imaginary Authors - Saint Julep [Sweet Mint, Tangerine, Magnolia, Bourbon, Sugarcube]

Felix

How he hugs: Gently. Felix hugs to express many emotions; Gratitude, excitement, sadness even. He wanted to be there to comfort and to feel; Wanted to be there when you needed him most whether it be an upsetting day in or an exciting day out together. His hands slide over your back to keep you as close to him as possible and act as a grounding tactic, keeping you with him at all times. What it reminds you of: Sweetness. Not only because Felix often smells like baked goods and treats - especially when he's at your house and never leaves the kitchen - but also because he wanted to be there for you whenever he possibly could; and he yearned to feel every emotion that coursed through your body be it good or bad. Which, in turn, earned him the title as the sweetest man you've ever met. Scent: Granado - Elixir 1870 [Mandarin, White Tea; Magnolia, Rose; Sandalwood, Musk]

Seungmin

How he hugs: Almost... tenderly. His arms are always hesitant to wrap around you when you initiate the affection, careful where his hands place with fingertips skirting over your sides before he locks down his grip and pulls you in closer. He buries his face down atop your head or into your shoulder every time. What it reminds you of: Tragedy. Yet, not in a bad way. Seungmin always seems to shut down a small amount when you hug him. It's as if he melts into you, into your touch and body. He lets his shoulders slump, lets his hair fall in his eyes. It reminds you of the way he's been misconstrued; under appreciated. But when he's with you, it reminds him that he's understood. So maybe it wasn't tragedy; Maybe it was.. Understanding, or Appreciation. Scent: Juliette Has A Gun - Into The Void [Black Orchid, Liquorice, Papyrus, Cedar]

Jeongin

How he hugs: Tight. Adoringly. His arms are always locked around your waist, his head tucked down so he can either kiss you or kiss over your skin; The type to pepper kisses along your neck as you mumble into his shoulder about your day, or wish him luck on tour. Though if he initiates the hugs, he does so by wrapping both hands around the small of your back and pulling you flush against him. What it reminds you of: Youth. Jeongin is young, still in his early twenties, and he always reminds you of that by the way he's a bit greedy with his affection; But also with the way he yearns for you, needs you, when times are rough. He's playful yet soft with his touches, never demanding and always checking to see if he's too teasing by peeking up at you. Almost... shy. Scent: Heretic - Coeur Noir [Rosewood, Labdanum, Madagascar Vanilla]

[ki-starz]

soft!caitlyn. nsfw. tw; top!caitlyn, bottom!reader. roommates!au, college!au. reader and caitlyn both play some unidentified sport. sleepy sex. eating out. wc; 1.2k

Going back home right after training usually bought you an hour or two alone in the dorm before Caitlyn arrived from her extra lifting session (even after the absolutely monstrous number of sprints you had to do.) It's not as if you disliked her—you wouldn't be dating her if you did—but it's nice to shower or nap without having your girlfriend silently bully her way into your space, whether that be into your too-small bed or the miniscule bathroom or behind you, leaning too much weight into your wobbly desk chair, making it creak in protest along with you.

Maybe the dorm was just too small. But that doesn't distract from the fact that taking a shower and washing off sweat and grime without her tall ass blocking the stream of water is magnificent. It warms you to the bone, and after you dry, you're quick to grasp it again—bundling up into one of Caitlyn's hoodies, plucked from where it's draped over her desk chair, the fabric skimming your hips and bunching at your wrists. It's big, even on her, so it swamps you in a sea of fabric. Drowsiness starts to set in, as it always does after such a tough practice. Or maybe that's just because the hoodie smells like Caitlyn. It's girlfriend air, which is the only explanation as to why she makes you so comfortable you're dead to the world in minutes.

You're too tired to worry about things like modesty at this point. Tunnel vision has set in, and what's more paramount is getting to your bed in the quickest time, not whether or not you put any underwear on. Nothing she hasn't seen, anyways, on hot summer days at her family's lake house when it's too muggy to even think about clothing. And with her penchant for attempting to plaster every inch of herself against you at night... you got used to the close contact quickly. So you drop into bed in just her hoodie, sling a blanket over your waist and promptly pass out, as you do every day without fail, phone abandoned on the bedside table.

Usually you're awakened by the sound of the showerhead sputtering to life, or, occasionally a pissed Caitlyn opening the door with a particularly ungraceful shoulder-shove. Today none of those things bother you. What does rouse you, though, is the trail of pale, warm fingers up your thighs.

Your eyes flutter open, a groggy, shallow breath escaping your lips. Attempting to reconcile, your memory catches up—practice. Shower. Nap. Caitlyn.

Caitlyn. When your head tilts down you see her, now. You'd rolled onto your back sometime during your slumber (or you fell asleep like that, who knows at this point.) She's still partially dressed from training and lifting. She shed her sweatpants but kept her sweat-damp tank, and if you crane your neck you can catch a glimpse of the fabric that hugs her slim hips.

All those thoughts are knocked from your head when she rubs at your inner thigh, and your brain bluescreens when she shoots you a small, charming smile.

"I was waiting for you to wake up. I didn't want to disturb you." Her words are gentle and caring on the surface, but you can see the familiar gleam in her eyes. Her endorphins are still pumping and letting desire spread through her body like a creeping fog.

Her eyes flicker down, catching on the crease of your thigh, and her tongue slides out to wet her lips.

"...can I?" She turns that pretty gaze to yours, and, well, who are you to deny her? As she shifts forward, slotting a shoulder under one of your thighs and her hand over the top of it, you nod.

Her smile widens for just a moment, endearingly delighted, before she creeps closer. A warm breath drifts over your cunt, and she giggles when your hips wiggle in turn.

"Impatient." She scolds, but can't even chastise you properly—she's already peppering kisses down your lower stomach, nose bumping against the warm skin, and exhales in pleasure when she sees you, slightly glossy already. A thumb comes to part your folds, skimming up to nudge away the hood of your clit. She presses a kiss to it, and then another, before sealing her lips weakly around it.

You rock in gentle contentment, hips rolling slow and long against her face. Her hand, once curled over your thigh, skims up your stomach; she outstretches her fingers, then curls them briefly, asking for your hand.

"Sap," you tease, but oblige her anyway—interlocking your digits indulgently. Your other hand skims down, burying itself in her ponytail to free her of the tie's strangling vice. There's no way it doesn't hurt to keep her hair tied that tight, but you don't want to ponder that now. Not when her hair falls free, dropping in front of your eyes for your hand to scoop up and hold away, and she licks a broad stripe up the length of you. And another. She's slow but thorough, catching your weeping entrance and your reddening clit with every pass. You fall into the feeling, muscles going lax even as your hips tilt towards her gentle mouth.

She chuckles against you, and then taps the back of your hand—pulling away briefly to drag your focus back.

"You're not allowed to fall asleep. I've waited all day for this, darling." Your eyes flutter back open with a bratty little huff. A narrowing of them follows, and her gaze matches it. Although she usually takes the dominant role, expertly guiding you towards that peak and finding immense pleasure in it, she's still a brat at heart. Realizing this standstill will get you nowhere closer to cumming, you acquiesce with a little puff of breath, head tilting back but gaze holding steady.

"Yeah, yeah. I won't." You begin, sighing as she sucks your pliant skin between her teeth, scraping them weakly over your thigh. "Just... keep going. And then we can both nap."

With one last kiss to the new mark she continues, a bit messier now. Despite how she enjoys it, there's a fatigue to her movements, showing how her drowsiness mirrors your own. She laps, small, quick strokes, at your clit, intercut by languished sucks that slowly, but surely, drive you up and up, hips rising to meet her strokes.

"Yes, there, Cait. Mh.. yeah." Your gentle praise spurs her, movements continuing but picking up in speed ever-so-slightly. Her head gently bobs and you guide it, hand fisted leisurely in her bangs. The sight, as much as her actions, drive you over, catching you by surprise as it glides over you. It's not a violent thing, instead blooming vines of warmth that creeps all the way to your fingertips. Caitlyn keeps her movements, though slowed, until you push her away.

When you do she clambers upwards, squeezing next to you on the too-small twin. Instinctively she draws you into her collarbone, and you should sniff in disgust at the sweat that pools there. But it smells like her and you're too sleepy to complain, so your head notches itself against her chest and you sink into the warmth of her.

© ki-starz

[lostinlovingrevery]

Fluffy Moments w/ Logan

Just some cute couple things I really like to imagine doing with Logan ❤️ some of these are kinda suggestive FYI!!

- hugging him around his waist, pressing your chin into his chest as you both look at each other with lovesick expressions

-also hugging him by pressing yourself against him but sliding your hands into the back pockets of those oh-so-snug jeans of his, and groping his butt

-blowing him kisses, across the room, across the jet, right next to him. Never fails to make him smile.

-him picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder and carrying you away with ease

-i wanna pinch his hips. Is that weird? They look pinchable to me. Almost bite them but this is suppose to be fluffy stuff

-him putting that leaather jacket around you. Its big and warm and smells just like him

-with old man logan, i just wanna press several soft smooches to his lips. Just peck his pretty lips over and over again until he starts laughing out of being flustered. Yea i made you laugh babygirl.

-with trilogy logan, i wanna run my hands through his insane hair, give him head scratches and have him fall asleep in my lap, or resting on my belly with his arms wrapped around my butt (and then have him wake up with a sleepy smile and reach up to give a sweet kiss)

-with worst logan, i just wanna hug him and make him feel loved and taken care of. Maybe shower with him and wash him up. Massage his shoulders. Make him a nice homecooked meal. Forehead kisses.

-with origins logan, I wanna dance with him in the rain. I waanna drag him out to the street and pull him to me as we dance like fools, our clothes and hair getting soaked and we share kisses. We go back inside and take off our clothes and snuggle by the fireplace to warm up

-Dofp (future) logan. I wanna hold his hand and tell him that he did a good job, and brush some hair back and kiss the tip of his nose. I wanna dance with him too.

-i wanna give 97' logan some love too. Kiss his cheek, wrap my arm around his, and give him some flirty banner. Make him feel so supported and seen. Sit on his lap and give him a cold beer after a long day.

- going on normal dates with Lo. Like simply to the movies, and then just walking down the street holding hands? Ugh please? Pretty please

-wearing a pretty dress for Logan, and when you come and he sees you and his eyes rake over. Him telling you "cmon baby, do a little spin" so he could see how pretty you look everywhere. Then comes over and puts his hands in your waist and give you a chaste kiss in the lips, telling you how pretty you are- and youre all for him

-for plus sized girlies (like me), logan grabbing and feeling your plushness, pinching your love handles or butt. Telling you how much he loves your beautiful self.

- the way he can pick you up with ease no matter how much you weigh. Twirls you around before throwing you over his shoulder so he can go have his way with you~

-sorry started drifting into dangerous territory again

-holding each others pinkies, (maybe during meetings with the x-men, or on the jet, or simply during dinner)

-him just smacking your butt casually anytime you walk past each other. Its just his casual display of dominance and being a man

-lying on your stomach on bed or couch, and he comes up behind you, resting his head right on your butt bc he just likes it there. His hands squeezing your cheeks and thighs

-same with your titties. Does matter how small or big either of those may be. He likes em and hes gonna bury his face onto them

-giving him flowers and making him SO flustered because hes never gotten flowers before. No matter which logan it is, hes so taken aback that he cant even try to pull a tough guy act over it. Will absolutely adore them in private.

-Logan getting shy with you before youre together because youre just so pretty and so YOU, he just loses words and stammers over himself. Its rare to see logan ever lose his composure

-being SO protective of you. Not just like from people who could hurt you, but he really wants to protect you just from the negative in general.

-picking groceries out together, bickering over what to have for dinners that week.

-sitting in his lap and playing with his dogtags as you tell him about your day, while his nails run soothingly up and down your back

-you know that cute smile logan has in origins? Yeaaah you know the one. Him looking at you like that every single time he sees you again.

-logan visiting you at work, and you shamelessly run to him as he hugs you in his arms and twirls you. Hes really not ome for pda but seeing you with that big smile and so excited to see him he couldnt help it.

-its clear logan has trouble opening up and talking about hard things, but maybe one night you and him becoming vulnerable to each other. And you spend the entire night spilling each others secrets and wondering about the universe together. Not even realizing how late it is till sunrays begin to peek through the curtains.

-i think logan would have a lot to say if you can get him to open up and he knows you will listen and care what he has to say ❤️ (im totally writing a fic about this)

- logan always remembering to grab that thing you forget. glasses, keys, wallet/purse. For me its my water bottle. Youre running out the door and realize and you turn back but hes already walking towards you with your missing item in hand and a knowing look

-back to butts real quick but you smack his butt too. Also i think it would be funny to dry hump logan randomly(like coming up behind him and and grabbing his hips thrusting against him real hard) He would be so shocked the first time you do it

-TICKLING. Logan being ticklish. It ends in a tickle fight. (Spoiler. You lose. Did you really think youd win against a 300+ lb man with mutant bones?)

- holding hands in the car

- hand on THIGH in car 😏

-going to give logan a quick smooch, but he stops you from pulling away and draws the kiss out.

-going to a get together or party with limited seating. Logan pulls you onto his lap- no hesitation. Thats your seat and your seat only.

-just snuggling honestly. Hed be the best snuggler

-when it comes to logans mutant instincts, hes a nester. If hes got you and a cozy lil bed, you bet youre gonna be in for a night of warm cuddles. Dont even THINK about getting out of bed.

-having a disagreement with him, but you still angrily kiss each other goodbye.

-petnames. I like referring to logan as tough guy, handsome, baby, sweetheart, buttercup, cupcake (teehee), pumpkin (my absolute fav)

-we all know hes big on nicknames but if you use petnames on him? Sweet pretty ones on his manly gruff self? Hes gonna melt

-literallt swooning whenever logan gets flirty with you. I wouldnt be able to take it.

-hes standing over you (or got you against the wall for my short logan lovers!! mmph hes so *chefs kiss*) and calling you pretty baby and your knees weak and you cant even stand up straight and hes smirking at you been so weak for him

-getting lipstick all over him. He tries to clean it all off but he misses a spot and someone points it. He just smirks, bc you FINALLY found a way to leave your claim on him

Ill prob make a part two but i cant type more bc my powers out and that means no heat 😩 my fingers are frozen rn. If only i had a logan to keep me warm...

Oh!

-logan snuggling you and holding you tighter to him during colder months, snug as a bug.

❤️❤️❤️❤️

[kaleidoscopewritings19]

Joel Miller x F!Reader

Title: Dreams of Her

Warning(s): SMUT. MDNI. P in V, Oral, female receiving. Unprotected sex. 18+ Wrap it before you tap it.

Character(s): Joel Miller, Female X Reader, Sarah Miller mentioned, Mrs. Adler mentioned, and Ellie.

Everything italicized is a dream! Bold print = dialogue prompts. Credit for prompts @ the other woman-Emily.

MY WORK IS NOT TO BE SHARED, TRANSLATED, OR POSTED TO OTHER SOCIAL MEDIA PLATFORMS. ©️

The cool Wyoming air whipped through the open window, causing Joel to stir awake. He rubbed his face, trying to see what time it was. The old analog clock on his nightstand read 2:02 AM. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, and stared at the floor.

His body cracked and popped as he slowly stood up out of bed, and closed the window. The fully functional small town of Jackson was sound asleep; other than the men who had to take watch. It was hard to find sleep most nights, but Joel wanted nothing more than to rest his achy, tired body.

But before he could get back into bed, he had to check on Ellie. Never in a million years did he think he’d have the opportunity to live a (somewhat) normal life after the outbreak. He never thought he would get the chance to check on someone he cared about again.

The old wood door creaked as he peered around it, finding Ellie sound asleep at her window seat— uncovered. Joel quietly walked over and covered her shivering body with her comforter, and was able to leave without waking her.

Anytime he woke up, he couldn’t go back to bed until he checked around the house. He wasn’t afraid— he was just taking extra precautions.

After a quick scan throughout the house, Joel felt safe enough to crawl back into bed. No sooner than he pulled his blankets up, he was out. At night, memories would plague his dreams- especially the bad ones. However, tonight was one of the rare one’s where he dreamed of you.

Back in Austin, Joel had built a porch swing. Sarah had requested one be built for her to sit and swing on during the summer. Joel would do anything to make his daughter, his number one priority, happy.

It was May 24th of 2002 when Joel had finally decided to start on the porch swing; it would be built just in time for Sarah to have it for the first day of her summer break. She was at school and Joel had went to the hardware store and came back to the house to see you sitting on the porch steps.

You were wearing a yellow sundress, and your hair was curled and pinned back. Joel loved seeing you on his porch steps looking like a goddess.

When you seen him pull into the driveway, you had a big smile on your face. You jumped up from the porch steps and ran into his open arms. He pressed a kiss to your lips, “Hey there darlin’. Have ya been waitin’ long?” He questioned and you shook your head.

“Nope. I got here five minutes ago.” You said and he pulled you close into his body. Joel could still faintly smell your Vanilla perfume. “I love you in that dress.” He mumbled against your glossed lips.

You smiled up at him, “I don’t think your neighbor does. She asked me if I wanted to borrow one of her cardigans. Said there’s s’pose to be a cold spell coming soon.” Joel instantly knew what neighbor you were referring to— Mrs. Adler. He has had multiple conversations with her about you; most of them being about how young you were.

“Joel, she’s a little young don’t cha think?”

“People might think she’s your daughter.”

However, you were 22 years old, and he was 32 years old. That made you thirteen years older than Sarah, and ten years younger than him. But no matter how much he tried to explain to Mrs. Adler that you were much older than Sarah, she would still tell him,

“Now, Joel, that young lady is still wet behind the ears. You can’t expect her to stick around long—she’s young, and naive right now.” On multiple occasions, Mrs. Adler had tried to talk sense into you, but you never talked back and always respected what she had to say.

Joel admired you for that, and at times, you would try to gain the neighbors approval by helping her in the garden, or helping with her mother.

Joel couldn’t help but to smile, “I think she forgets this is Texas. We aren’t going to have a cold spell for a while.” He pulled a couple of sacks from the inside of the truck, and walked them over to the porch.

“What are you going to build, J?” You asked and Joel reached out for your hand.

“A porch swing for Sarah. She’s been beggin’ for one for awhile now.” He said as he led you up the steps, and pointed where the swing would go.

“Oh, she’ll love that! It would be the perfect spot to read a book, or to drink coffee in the morning.” You said as you sat on the porch banister. Joel’s right leg went in between your legs, and you wrapped your arms around his neck.

His hands held your waist, “That would be nice. A hot cup of coffee in the morning, or seeing you on it when I come home from work.” You smiled as his palm flatted against your bare thigh, and moved upwards under your dress. Joel shamelessly planted kisses along your jawline, and then traced down your neck. You shuddered as his lips delicately danced around the sensitive skin.

“Someone might see us, Joel..” you whispered as his finger tips traced your laced panties. “No one’s going to see us.” He murmured. His lips connected to yours, and your fingers tugged at his dark brown hair; this encouraged him to go even further.

Joel spread your legs just enough for him to slip a finger into your panties, and between your slick folds. A breathy moan escaped past your lips; this was music to Joel’s ears.

Before he could go any further, the squeaking sound of Mrs. Adler’s screen door made the two of you jump apart. If Joel wouldn’t have caught your leg, you would’ve fell in the bushes. “Hi Mrs. Adler!” He shouted and she waved at him.

“Just checking the mail! Don’t mind me!” She shouted back, and both you and Joel chuckled.

He helped you down from the banister and lead you into the quietness of his home. The Miller home was far from being fancy, but you always told him his home was more homey and comforting than yours.

Your father was some big time military General; he often lived in different countries while you and your mom stayed in Texas. But now he was home for the next couple of years, and you talked about how hard he could be on you. Your father expected big things from you, and that’s why you were studying to become a clinical psychologist.

Did your father know about him? Yes. Joel had met your father on a couple of occasions and he did not approve of Joel. Number one, ‘he was too old’. Number two, ‘he had a child’. And number three, ‘he was simply not good enough for you’. Despite your father’s wishes, you stayed with Joel.

It was hard to get alone time with Joel, because on weekends, school breaks, and any time after 3 PM, he was in full dad mode. Joel had told Sarah some stuff about you, but as far as she knew, you were just a good friend.

Joel closed the front door behind him, and you sat down on the arm of the couch. The cool leather against your skin made you shiver. Slowly, you pulled the pins from your hair, and beckoned him to come to you. The scent of your perfume drove him crazy; all he wanted to do was take you right then and there.

He knelt down in front of you, both hands running up and down your legs agonizingly slow. His dark brown eyes looked up through his lashes, and he pressed a gentle kiss to your knee, then up to your thigh.

Joel’s calloused hands rested on your thighs, and then without a notice, his fingers hooked under the thin lacy fabric of your panties. He slid them down your legs letting the air hit your wet core. A smile broke out across Joel’s face as he slid you closer to him, his head now underneath your dress. He pressed a kiss to the inner part of your thigh, and then pressed a gentle kiss to where you wanted him the most.

Your hands went to his hair as his tongue flattened and tasted you. When the tip of his tongue danced around your clit, it made you push yourself back from the sudden warmth of pleasure.

Joel pulled you down to sit on the couch rather than the arm of the piece of furniture; his face never left your core. His hands flattened against your thighs, and kept a strong grip on them; Joel didn’t want you to move an inch from his mouth.

“Oh, Joel.” You whimpered as his tongue delve into you.

There was one thing Joel loved more than having you on his cock, and it was tongue fucking you. Your breathing would turn into short breaths, and you would moan his name over and over like a sweet song. His thumb started massaging your clit in a circular motion, “I want you to finish baby.” He mumbled against your wet cunt.

When he realized that you weren’t getting close, he swirled his tongue around your clit. You squirmed underneath his hands but he held you still— bruises would surely form. Joel teased your clit, causing you to pull him closer into you.

Your body shook underneath his grasp and against his lips as he continued to lap up your juices. When you arched your back, Joel knew you were about to finish. “Joel, I’m about to..”

Before you could finish your sentence, Joel pulled away, lips glistening with you. He scooped you up off the couch bridal style, and took you up the stairs and into his room.

Joel sat you on the edge of his bed, his lips red and puffy from his previous activity. His left hand steadied himself on the bed while his right hand played with the spaghetti strap of your sundress.Your nose brushed against Joel’s, and his lips ghost over yours; the strap to your dress tickled down your arm, exposing your hard nipple to him.

His thumb and forefinger pinched and twisted the pebbled skin, and he connected his lips to yours. Your lips moved against his softly—during days like these, Joel preferred to take things slow. It was only 8AM, he had all the time in the world to make love to you. He pulled the other strap of your dress down, and started pulling your dress up over your hips. You pulled away from his lips, and quickly pulled his shirt over his head. Then you started working on unbuckling the belt from his jeans, “So impatient, darlin’.”

“I’m more than patient. You left me hangin’ downstairs.” You responded, and Joel stopped your hands.

“Watch the attitude, sweetheart. Don’t make me fuck it out of you.” his Texas accent laid the words on thick. His thumb tilted your chin back so he could look you in the eyes.

You smiled up at him, and continued to pull his jeans down. His cock was already throbbing from the site of you, and when your hand gently brushed over the bulge in his boxers, it twitched. With a devious smile, you pushed yourself back on the bed and spread your legs. Joel knew what you were doing; you were going to try to punish him for the little stunt he pulled downstairs.

Your hands trailed between your legs, and your fingers ran between your slick folds. He watched you intently, as you brought your fingers to your lips, tasting yourself. Joel groaned at the site in front of him. “Use your words, Joel. Tell me, what you want.” You teased, using the words he used to you in bed.

Joel chuckled, “I want you to keep doin’ what your doin’.” But you shook your head, “Not good enough, Joel. Tell me what you want me to do.”

His eyes darkened, “I want you to put your hand between your legs, and insert one finger at a time until I tell you to stop.” He commanded, he was slowly taking back control.

You obeyed his words, and your hand slowly traced from your stomach, down between your legs, gathering the wetness on your fingers.

Joel pulled down his boxers, his cock springing out. You drooled at the site of him standing in front of you, waiting for you to do what he said.

Languidly, you inserted one finger inside of yourself, and slowly pulled it in and out of you. Joel took his cock in his hands and started pumping himself as you added a second finger.

When you added a third finger, the idea of taking things slow was left behind. Joel crawled across the bed, and pushed you down into the mattress. He hovered over your body, and pressed a bruising kiss to your lips. Your dress was discarded as Joel sat up.

He pulled you by your calves and angled you up, “Look at that pussy. So wet for me.” Joel guided his cock to your entrance, teasing your clit with the tip. You could feel the warmth of pre-cum rub against you, “Oh Joel…” you whimpered.

“I love it when you whimper my name.” He said as he pushed the tip into your tight cunt. A groan escaped past his lips, “So fuckin’ tight.”

His cock pushed deeper inside you. With every push, your grip tightened on his forearms, and your legs trembled in his hands.

You released your grasp on his forearms, and started massaging your breasts; it was something Joel loved to see you do while he fucked you senseless.

The stretch around his cock stung, but when he looked at you for confirmation to move, you gave him a small nod. Slowly, his hips rocked up into you, and his gaze was fixed upon you. Joel’s pace had quickened, and the squelching sounds of your pussy suctioning to him was erotic; it fed fuel to the fire that was burning between you two.

“I love watching you take in every inch of my cock into that perfect body.” He groaned as he watched himself go in and out of you.

When he gazed back up at you, your eyes were closed tight, lost in pure euphoria. He released your legs, and spread them further apart, so he could move between them.

His body hovered over yours, and he pressed a kiss to your lips. Your eyes fluttered opened as his cock rested inside you, and he kissed along your neck and back to your jawline.

“Please, don’t stop.” You whimpered and Joel resumed back to thrusting into you. Your mouth gaped as Joel sucked on your neck, surely leaving a hickey behind.

“Everyone is gonna know who you belong to.” He mumbled, and his pace started to slow down. “I want you to finish on my cock, baby.” He whispered into your ear.

Joel could feel you tighten around his pulsating cock, and when a lewd sound left your lips, he knew you were chasing your high. “Come for me.” He whispered and you were shaking underneath him. His lips connected to yours as he spilled inside of you; he rocked into you until he couldn’t anymore.

With his free hand, he pushed back a strand of hair that was stuck to your forehead. He pulled out of you and pulled the bed sheet to cover your naked bodies. When he laid back into the pillows, you moved over and rested your head above his heart.

Joel pulled you close into his body and he caressed your back, his fingers gingerly touching you.

The two of you laid there in silence, looking over at the breeze that was moving the curtain back and forth. “I miss you.” You whispered, and Joel’s fingers froze over your shoulder blade.

“Darlin’, I’m right here.” He said. You sat up on your elbow so you could look him in the eyes.

“I miss you so much my heart hurts.” Tears filled your eyes and Joel sat up. “I didn’t want to go with him, I- I wanted to go with you. It wasn’t my choice, my father said we would come back for you, and we- we didn’t.” You sobbed.

Joel stared at you in bewilderment, “What are you talkin’ about, Y/N?”

“He took me away from you the night of the outbreak. Don’t you remember Joel? I was with you, Tommy, and Sarah. I was there when they shot her. I was there when you cradled her body. Did you know my father shot me on command?”

Joel woke up and he gasped for air. He looked towards the right side of his bed where you should have been, but the space was empty. His heart pounded in his chest, and all he could do was stare at the empty side of his bed.

The sun was shining through a space in the curtain, and he looked over at his clock: 8:01 AM. He rubbed his face as he stepped out of bed and opened his night stand.

Joel was only able to save a few pictures; a couple of Sarah and then a photo of you from the day you wore that yellow sundress. You were sitting on the new porch swing and Joel was right next to you, his arm slung around your shoulders, watching you smile at the camera. In the photograph, he was smiling at you smiling, and he was glad Mrs. Adler caught this moment.

The dreams he had of you, never ended like that. He often wondered where you were, or what happened to you. Joel knew your father would have protected you over anyone else, and he hoped you were still alive and thriving.

Regardless of what was going on in this apocalyptic world, when he thought of you, he hoped you were safe. Sometimes, when Joel found himself alone and it was quiet, he would pray that you were out there alive, and that your paths would cross.

He took the picture downstairs with him as he fixed himself a cup of coffee. The photo was worn and faded; the back was yellowed, but in black ink, he could still read your words.

“Joel, you are the best thing that has ever happened to me. I love you. Forever and Always, Y/N.”

Ellie came up behind him to pull a cup out of the cupboard. “Who’s that?” She asked and Joel looked down at your smiling face.

“She’s a story for another time.” He said with a sad, small smile. Ellie stared at the picture on the counter, but she knew better than to pester Joel about it.

You were one of the last things he had that was good. The idea of keeping you to himself, made him feel like you were still alive. Saying what happened that night out loud, made him believe otherwise.

Joel picked up the picture and placed it in the pocket of his shirt, that rested above his heart. Maybe one day, your paths would cross.

I don’t know how to feel about this one. I’m semi-comfortable with writing smut, but I fear I’m not GOOD at it. I was nervous to post this, but oh well. 👀Part 2 maybe? Or should we end it here? Thank for reading! Comments, likes, and reboots are always welcomed and appreciated!

[caffieneaddictt18]

Hii<3 could you please do Headcanons for soap, könig, and maybe a few others with a fem! s/o who vapes?

I will do my best to do so! I don’t vape but I'll do my best.

Konig: I don't think Konig cares all too much, until you are almost hotboxing the room or car. Then he'll open a window or something. He does get curious about how all the vapor comes from a tiny colorful stick. He is definitely impressed when you do the ring trick with the smoke. When he finally works up the courage to ask for a hit from it, you hand it over, and tell him to take a small hit. Mans lungs are huge though, so he's taking a big-ass hit BY ACCIDENT. Instantly coughing like he's dying and has to sit down from the 5%. He's also grasping for the water bottle you always keep with you. "Oh mein Gott. Schatz, what is that?" "Just some vapor, darling." You pat his back, handing him the water bottle.

Soap: This man is probably constantly glued to Ghost's hip and Ghost is a cig smoker, so he doesn't even bat an eye at you vaping. Plus, when he does go with you to the supermarket, teenagers tend to populate the park next to your guys flat, big white clouds marking where they sit. What he does get curious about is how much smoke/vapor comes out of a tiny pink and blue tab with a tiny hole. He would probably ask you for a hit, and when you say yes, he'll take too big of a hit. Literally coughing out vapor and instantly has cottonmouth, chugging down from your giant water bottle on your desk as you play your game. Johnny, coughing up a lung: "'Ow do ya do tha', lass?" You, laughing at him: "Called not taking too big of hit, babe. This isn't a cigarette that has a drier smoke. It's vapor." And when he finds out that they aren't just fruit flavored, there's cotton candy flavors too?! He's bought three and he's trying to convince Ghost to take a hit of one. "Come on, LT! It tastes good! Not ashy, like ya nasty sticks." "Johnny, no."

Ghost: He, like Soap, doesn't even blink when you hit it while you're watching the telly. He is a cigarette smoker. He doesn't care. He does ask 'what the fuck you think you are smoking from?' when he actually gets a glimpse at what your vape looks like: pink and red ombre for the strawberry-watermelon flavor. It's almost laughable if he didn't look so serious. "Why is my woman smoking from a candy stick?" "Try it, handsome." Mans doesn't cough. At all. Like: light work, no reaction. And he says that he doesn't even feel it at 3% nicotine. Until you bring out your old vape body, batteries, and the 9% juice. You set it up, squeezing the 9% juice into the tank. "Little hits, honey." You carefully hand him the big transformer-looking vape. He rolls his eyes and takes a normal hit. The last one wasn't bad. Why would this one- oh shit. Ghost is swaying a little, lightheaded at all the nicotine rushing into his system. You go up to him and gently guide him top the couch, where he can flop down and let the nicotine run its course. When he finally remembers to breathe out, lungs screaming for oxygen, the flow of the vapor slowly breathes out. Mans was not expecting that. He immediately takes in a huge intake of air as you giggle at him. "And that ones cotton candy flavored." When Soap sees him again, offering for his LT to try his vape, Ghost takes it. When he hits, he scrunches his face, mask shifting. "Light work, Johnny." Johnny is stunned silent. When did his LT get into vaping? The answer? Never. He still likes his cigarettes.

Price: This man smokes cigars, and his lieutenant smokes cigarettes. This man is no stranger to smokers. And he's seen some of the younger generation openly vaping, so he's not clueless when his pretty little thing let's out a big puff of white vapor that faintly smells of sweet mint. However, he does see it in your pockets when you walk around, even if you make sure to blow it out open windows. So he wants to try whats got you so hooked. "Hey, sweet'eart. Can I try your... vape?" Just the question itself sounded confused, like he didn't know what to call it. You shrug and give it to him, letting him know its like a cigarette, you inhale it, unlike his cigars. (You don't inhale cigar smoke. Thats a no-no.) When this man takes the hit, it doesn't have the same effects as his cigars but he does cough a little, not used to having literal vapor enter his lungs. "What the hell is tha'?" "Vapor, honey. It's not smoke." And now he's worried you're gonna get pneumonia or something else lung health related, so he got you some tea that helps clear mucus from your lungs in an effort to keep your lungs clear and healthier than they were before you started drinking the tea. (You only drink the tea to make him happy. Every once in a while a huge loogie comes up and it is nasty af.)

Gaz: He does not give two fucks. Probably has one from when they first got popular and decided that he doesn't like them, but he doesn't care if you smoke. He evens compliments you when you do the ring trick. Every once in a while, after a stressful day, he will ask for a few hits from your vape. He does comment on your choice of vape juice flavor sometimes. "Strawberry? Not bad. Like the mango one more." "Mint?! Ew." "Mmm... Mango's back, I see."

I hope you like it! If you did, leave a comment! Bye bye for now!

[anotherbabyhag]

Can you do the fluff and smut alphabets for Rio? I haven’t seen anyone else doing them 🥺

Rio Vidal Fluff and Smut Alphabets

Rio Vidal Fluff Headcanon Alphabet

A = Aroma (What do they smell like?)

I don’t think she necessarily has a particularly strong scent. Likely something faintly floral given her penchant for growing flowers.

B = Babe (What would they use as pet names? Do they use them a lot?)

My love, mi vida, mi amor, darling, and sweetheart would be her go to pet names. She does use them a lot, she thinks that makes it more intimate when decides to use your actual names.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Yeah for sure, she’s always touching you somehow. Her arm around you, her head on your shoulder. Spooning - she doesn’t mind who is which spoon, she loves to pull you close but also loves to be held by you.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? What would they think about living together?)

Yes absolutely. She wants desperately to make a little home for the two of you, and maybe a family later.

E = Emotion (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Very affectionate. She’s very touchy, but also quite liberal with verbal affection too.

F = Flirt (How do they flirt? Are they smooth or awkward?)

She’s not awkward but she’s intense. She comes on strong.

G = Gifts (Are they a gift giver? What kind of gifts do they give?)

Big gifts not as often but she’s always bringing (growing) you flowers. And also bringing you little trinkets she comes across - a bit like a crow does lol.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Yes definitely, she hugs you a lot as she loves to touch you. She’ll often come up and hug you from behind, you’re usually the first to pull away, she’d happily hold you forever.

I = I Love You (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Not fast. After Agatha she’s much more cautious, she’ll likely wait until you say it even if she’s felt it for much longer. But she’s happy to say “I need you” “I adore you” “I’m yours” etc instead.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Yeah she gets pretty jealous. Not so much when someone flirts with you, she trusts you and she likes to know she has someone who is coveted. But if you flirt back, even jokingly, she can get jealous and possessive. It makes her act sullen and bratty sometimes and aggressive and dominant other times.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you?)

She likes to kiss your lips and your neck. Usually her kisses can be soft and slow or hungry and desperate depending on the day.

L = Little ones (How are they around children? Would they want some of their own?)

She’s surprisingly good, kids respond well to her authenticity. Plus she’s had plenty of experience helping the souls of young children cross over when they pass. She’d love children of her own yeah.

M = Meet (How did they meet you?)

By chance. Perhaps you were on a walk in the forest - spending time in nature is one of the few times outside of her job that Rio leaves the realm of the dead to come to the mortal realm.

N = Nurture (Are they good at taking care of you if you’re hurt/sick?)

Yes, she fusses over you and brings you anything you might need.

O = Out (What’s a typical date night with them like?)

Rio likes staying in, cooking together then relaxing maybe playing board game or watching tv.

P = Propose (When do you/they propose? How does the proposal go?)

Marriage is a mortal thing so Rio doesn’t particularly care about it. You propose but more like a joke, just by saying “we should get married”. It had been a flippant comment but as you talked about it more it suddenly became a real, genuine idea.

Q = Quirk (What small habit/feature/quirk do they have that you find especially endearing?)

The way she says the most random/out of pocket things in normal conversations. You just don’t know what’s coming next.

R = Routine (What does a typical day together look like? Routines, schedules, habits?)

Rio works a lot but she always makes time for you with morning cuddles, having breakfast together. And she tries really hard to always be home when you go to sleep.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you?)

Veryyyyyy protective. She’ll use her magic to fuck up anyone who hurts you.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, etc?)

She puts in a lot of effort, it’s her way of showing her love and devotion to you.

U = Unique (What’s something they’d only do for you?)

Opening up and sharing her emotions. After Agatha she swore she wouldn’t do that again, but for you she will.

V = Vulnerable (How long does it take them to feel comfortable being vulnerable around you?)

It takes a while, Agatha has hurt her so much that it takes her a long while to trust and open up to anyone again.

W = Wardrobe (What would they wear to impress you?)

She knows she’s attractive and she loves to wear revealing clothes to distract you and turn you on.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

When she’s got time she loves to bake and cook for you.

Y = You (What are some things they would like in a partner?)

Someone who will trust her and love her unconditionally. Someone who is quick and witty and can keep up with her chaotic habits and conversations.

Z = Zzz (What are their sleep habits?)

Rio can sleep but she doesn’t need to. She often likes to watch you (and cuddle you) while you sleep.

Rio Vidal Smut Headcanon Alphabet

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex?)

Depends on the sex but generally she’s cuddly and clingy, sometimes needing reassurance from you.

B = Body part (Favourite body part of their partner’s?)

Your lips and your neck.

C = Collar (Do they mark you as theirs in some way?)

No, she wouldn’t mind if you did to her though.

D = Dominant (Who is in control? Are they a top or bottom?)

The only thing stronger than Rio’s desire to submit is Rio’s desire to please. If she’s in a long term relationship with you, be prepared for her to sub at least half the time. But satisfying her switchy partner’s need to be dominated is not only something she’s willing to do but something she actually enjoys, even if only because of how much you enjoy it. Because of who she is, Rio doesn’t do anything by halves and being dominant when you ask for it is no exception. She’s very skilled but needs a lot of reassurance afterwards - yes you liked it, yes she did a good job, no she didn’t go too far etc.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

She’s not super experienced. Agatha was her first. She had a few lacklustre (for her not for them) flings while Agatha had the darkhold. This is not something she has repeated after the events of Agatha All Along. However, Agatha was an excellent teacher and anything Rio lacks in experience she makes up for in enthusiasm and desire to please.

F = Fuck (Do they prefer to fuck or make love?)

Both. If she’s feeling jealous she’ll definitely prefer to fuck. Otherwise, it’s down to what you’d prefer.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous?)

Rio is pretty serious. Sex is her way of expressing devotion and intimacy so she takes it seriously.

H = Hot (What turns them on, gets them going?)

Being teased, dirty talk, being dominated.

I = Insatiable (How do they act when they’re desperate to have you?)

She gets super handsy, sits on your lap, kisses your neck etc.

J = Jack off (Masturbation headcanon?)

She doesn’t do it often, only when she’s really desperate. She likes to drag it out and get lost in her fantasies, she hopes you’ll walk in on her and help her out.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks?)

Being dominated, teasing and being teased, edging.

L = Location (Favourite places to have sex?)

At home in bed for a proper fuck. But she’ll happily go down on you or finger you just about anywhere.

M = Mood (What’s the foreplay like? How do you get them in the mood?)

You tease her, lots of kisses, light/teasing touches, dirty talk.

N = Naked (How do they undress? Do they like to watch you undress?)

She likes to watch you undress and will put on a show for you if you want. Other times it’s rushed and desperate, clothes being flung or ripped off.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill?)

She likes both equally and is very skilled at eating you out.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual?)

Both. Depends on the day and what kind of sex you’re having.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies, how often?)

She’s not a fan of them herself. She’d rather you take your time with her. She’ll do them when really desperate though. She’s also happy to eat you out or finger you wherever and whenever you want with the promise that you’ll return the favour later.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment? Do they take risks?)

Yeah she’s up for experimenting. Like anyone she has her limits but outside of that she will try anything you’re interested in.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

She lasts a while, especially if you’re good at drawing it out. She’s pretty much keen to go as many rounds as you want but her preference is 2-3.

T = Tryst (Are they into casual sex or one night stands?)

Nope. She’s had a few and never found them fulfilling or satisfying. She’d rather have a long term partner.

U = Unfair (How much they like to tease?)

Rio loves to tease, she gets an ego boost from having you desperate and begging.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make?)

She’s very loud/vocal. Lots of moaning, whining, cursing, and begging.

W = Wait (How long do they wait before having sex with their partner for the first time?)

Not long, once she’s made up her mind that she wants you she doesn’t see any point in delaying it. It takes her much longer to open up emotionally than it does for her to sleep with you.

X = X-ray (What’s going on under those clothes?)

When she wears underwear they’re black or green lace, matching sets.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

It's pretty high when she’s in a relationship, she’s so desperate for her lover. When she’s single it’s not so extreme - she doesn’t seek out casual sex, she does masturbate when she needs to but it’s not often.

Z = Zzz (How quickly they fall asleep afterwards?)

As she doesn't need to sleep she prefers to just cuddle with you until you fall asleep.

[fmhobeus]

wilson's run to the ground after his fourth divorce. he's becoming more and more like house. he doesn't care for love anymore or so he thinks. but you're exactly what he needs. young, pretty and naive. he likes all of those things about you and you know it. it's different when he calls you naive, he doesn't have the contempt in his voice like house does. he likes it. so naturally you like it. he's got this thing where he could say anything, literally anything, call you a dumb bitch for no reason, but because his smile is so sweet and his eyes are so kind and his lips taste like coffee creamer and he smells like sanitizer and he is so much older and experienced than you, you'd let it slide.

and likewise, he knows you have a thing for him because he's older and he makes you feel safe. he knows you look at him with something clouding your lust, a kind of love he knows you're misplacing. but it makes him feel happier about aging, knowing he can milk your daddy issues for all they're worth. he's perceptive and empathetic, those are two things people love about him. he notices everything. everything you never did about yourself. he knows you don't like talking about your dad. he knows you like it when he's protective over you. when he makes you breakfast in the morning. when he doesnt call you "baby" or "honey" like he usually would with a partner but "princess" and "doll". he knows you like him boasting about his experience. he knows you like him towering over you. he knows he can trap you with reassurance. but he doesnt make you call him daddy because then it would be obvious to you too.

everyday he thanks the man that scarred you. feeling grateful it is him that takes his place.

[misforvendetta]

i just can't do this anymore, fem!viktor lives in my thoughts completely rent free, and i think about her constantly, so…

some of my thoughts about fem!viktor (viktoria). you can consider it modern uni au or something like that. and my lil collage!

i think viktoria is lonely. she has been lonely all her life. she always felt like a burden, an outcast, ‘not enough’, although she carefully hid it under the mask of quiet indifference. viktoria has no friends. she had a friend, sky, who moved to another city, and now the girls rarely see each other. but viktoria has already gotten used to it. she began to call her loneliness ‘a solitude’ a long time ago, noting that it was definitely her choice, and not the unfair pranks of life.

i think viktoria would have liked to have a friend group. you know, the kind where everyone is like sisters to each other, where there is support and warmth and care, where there is laughter and sleepovers and good moments. but, unfortunately, viktoria always ended up being unfriended. she tried to be part of a group of girls, but she always was the one who was hobbling along the road at the back, while a few of her friends walked in front. she didn't blame them. she knew she was pretty hard to be with.

i think viktoria is not really interested in the beauty industry. she perceived the standards imposed by society as stupidity that does not deserve so much attention. but then why was she always laughed at because of her hairy legs? is it really so hard for people to understand that it is quite difficult for a girl, who can barely walk, to shave her body? and that she simply does not want to waste her time on something that will bring her back pain, unwanted cuts and irritation on her sensitive skin? what a nonsense...

i think viktoria's life is not as terrible as it might seem at first. there are white stripes between the dark ones. she's not one to give in to despair, after all. viktoria loves to study. she loves science. any kind of science. she loves solving sudoku, taking herself on dates to coffee shops or libraries, she loves to draw a little. viktoria, although far from knowing how to do makeup, loves to treat herself to a nice-smelling lip balm or a pretty hair clip. it's not that she's picky about it. it's just the little things that make her life better. she also loves animals, children, potted flowers, cool weather and comfortable loose clothes. she loves rainy mornings and green tea when coffee is too much for her body. yeah, her life is definitely not that bad.

I think viktoria met jayce completely by accident. he was her classmate and, surprisingly, was not as ‘popular guy’ as he could have been with his looks. they were paired up to do a chemistry lab assignment. then, if viktoria hadn’t corrected jayce’s formula, there could have been an explosion. a small one, but still unpleasant. jayce realized then that he was head over heels in love. and viktoria realized that he was a silly guy. they then went to have lunch together during the long break in the backyard of the university. viktoria was surprised that jayce didn’t walk too fast, adjusting to a pace that was comfortable for her. for the first time in her life, she didn’t have to catch up with someone.

i think when viktoria had her birthday, jayce prepared a little surprise for her. he made her a notebook and a hydrangea pendant himself, because those were her favorite flowers. viktoria was amazed then — she had never received such a thoughtful gift. and jayce got his first kiss on the cheek that wonderful morning.

i think viktoria had a lot of insecurities, although she didn’t show it. she thought she was too tacky for jayce. too awkward, too unhealthy, too ugly, too… jayce interrupted this train of thought one cool winter evening when they were sitting in his room, wrapped in a soft blanket, and eating chips. he asked if he could kiss viktoria. and he blushed really badly. the kiss was awkward: a little slobbery, there were crumbs everywhere, and they bumped noses a couple of times. but they were happy.

i think viktoria loves jayce. and jayce loves viktoria.

[catholicfacade]

are you ever gonna post the whole fic u posted the wip of ? 🥺🥺

hiiii, so im still working on it :(( im a suuuper slow writer unfortunately and im genuinely like +10k words deep into just chapter one and its probably only halfway done !!! real slow burn enjoyers rise !!! i might end up splitting chapter one into two parts because of this, i appreciate everyones patience who's cared about my work thus far !!! i know it's not what you want but i'll post another snippet since it is wip wednesday ! i hope you enjoy it in the meantime🤍 -ego⋆♱✮

WIP

pairing: joost klein x f! OC

content: RPF!!!, yearning, pining, slow burn, miscommunication, angst, anxiety, insecurity, val is so sensitive

word count: 2.4k

authors note: still chapter one except things are not so happy rn and they wont be for a while after this :(( my first wip 🤍

It shouldn’t sting, but it does.

Valentine has tried to brush off the moments of painful self-awareness where it’s clear, at least to her, she doesn’t entirely fit in here. All of these new friends in her life are nice! An unexpected but welcome addition to life in The Netherlands. But sometimes, it is so excruciatingly obvious she is not as welcome in their lives as they are in hers. She tries not to feel guilty about being the introvert in a group full of extraverts, it just always hits her so hard at the worst times.

Some nights the conversations are easily flowing, Stuntje, Appie, Lyon, and Daan telling stories, upon stories, upon stories of crazy things the group has done together. Joost is of course standing a little too close to Val for her liking, she can smell his cologne and his cigarettes, it’s making her light headed in the best way. He’s smiling so brightly at his friends, his arm nearly grazing Val’s every time he doubles over with laughter. And then all of a sudden the conversation switches to Dutch and Val gets thrown off, she can maybe understand half of it, but she feels so lost all of a sudden, like she disappeared. Then she feels guilty about feeling guilty, understanding that she is the only non-Dutchie standing amongst this group of people. Of course they’re all going to speak Dutch together. It wouldn’t be fair to make them speak English.

And yet there’s this unavoidable wave of loneliness that washes over her whenever it happens. It’s isolating to be standing amongst friends who are so deep into a story, laughing together, nodding and smiling at one another, while Valentine is forgotten, sometimes even unintentionally pushed out of the circle, doing her best to sneak away quietly to hide in the bathroom. It’s childish, she thinks, to be on the verge of crying because no one is talking to her. It’s selfish to think she’s invisible. But she feels like an intruder in these peoples lives, suddenly aware of how much she doesn’t understand about them. Maybe will never get to understand about them.

When Valentine goes home early, she feels like she’s just doing what’s best to mitigate this awkward situation. She tries to collect herself in the bathroom, swallowing that empty feeling down as far as it will go and walks back out with a fresh excuse made to end the night early. It’s always work, “I just remembered I have a blouse that needs stitching,” or “April needs me in the store early tomorrow, gotta go sorry.” It was only a matter of time before someone caught on that this was her only way of getting out of things, and it was only a matter of time before they stopped caring to have her around. She just wished it wasn’t Joost who would make it so obvious.

Standing all togther in their private section of the club, Apson is in the middle of telling a story about how he almost got beat up for filming a tik tok in front of some guys store, “I tried to say, ‘it’s for a video, it’s for a video’, but he kept cursing at me in Romanian, man! I put my hands up, right?” He recreates the gesture, “I said ‘I do it for tik tok, you ever heard of tik tok, man?’ And he went berserk!”

Everyone begins losing it over the way Appie starts mimicking the store owner’s yelling. Joost seems like he can hardly breathe he’s laughing so hard! As Valentine stands directly next to Joost, she can’t help but sneak a few looks at him, the way his whole face expresses joy, it lights up instantly, there’s no emotion he could try and hide on that face. She thinks it’s beautiful. He’s beautiful. His laugh is so genuinely infectious. The butterflies she feels in her stomach flutter, happy that Apson is the star of the show right now so no one can see her stealing glances at Joost every couple of seconds.

After a minute everyone begins to calm down, including Apson who even managed to make himself laugh super hard. Something in Val’s memory clicks for her as she speaks up, “I guess that’s why you had to get permission from April, huh? Didn’t want her to beat you up?”

“Jesus, Val—” Joost genuinely seems taken aback by her presence, brows lifted and eyes widened as he turns to her, “You’re still here? You’re so quiet—I thought you would’ve left hours ago!” He looks immediately to his friends who laugh in loud validation at Valentine’s expense. Joost laughs the hardest of them all.

Is that really it then? She’s so insignificant to him he hasn’t even realized she’s been standing next to him the entire time? No one even bothers to acknowledge what she said. They just keep laughing as Joost starts telling them another story of his own.

Val feels weak, the cup in her hand suddenly weighing 20 pounds, her knees are wobbling. Alanis is the only one not laughing, she catches Valentines eye and gives her a soft, sympathetic smile, probably having suffered some burns herself at some point, being the only girl in the friend group. Val smiles back, though the feeling of smiling is currently foreign to her, she’s just going through the motions.

Once Alanis looks away, Val slips away from the group quietly, grabbing her bag and her coat, heading out the door as quickly as possible without full on running.

The deep January freezing temperatures hit her like a ton of bricks but maybe it’s what she needs…or deserves. Fucking Joost—she thinks to herself. Valentine starts walking in the direction of her apartment.

Why did she have to feel so drawn to him? They clearly have nothing in common. He clearly doesn’t even think about her. She is this invisible little thing to him. Fuck fuck fuck Joost! Why does she care so much about him? It shouldn’t matter anyway, it was just a joke. She’s being such a sensitive little bitch about everything. And now all of her “friends” are going to think she’s super weird and melodramatic for leaving like that. If they can even be bothered to notice she’s gone that is.

Tears prick her eyes as she tries to blink them away, to no avail, they fall, freezing almost instantly on her face, leaving her so unbearably cold. It happens the entire walk home. Valentine is genuinely freezing half to death by the time she makes it back to her apartment. She sighs deeply once inside, cupping her face in her hands. Her teeth are chattering, her fingertips are frozen, and so are her cheeks, the tears she cried having turned into little flecks of ice.

Her body barely has enough strength to strip herself of her frosty clothing and run herself a bath, but she somehow manages it. Sitting against the edge of the bathtub, running the hot water, Valentine reaches into her discarded bag and takes out her phone. Battery dead. Oh well. It will have to wait until after her bath to be charged. It’s not like she stupidly believes anyone will reach out anyway, she’ll never get her hopes up like that ever again. It ends up forgotten on top of the pile of clothes now adorning the bathroom floor. 

-

“—daarna boekte ik altijd mijn eigen optredens!” [after that I always booked my own gigs] Joost nods while finishing his story, Appie and Stuntje laugh, Daan shakes his head, and Alanis has gone off somewhere.

“Heyyy jongens,” Stuntje calls out suddenly, “Who wants another round~?” He says in a sing-song tone while shaking his empty cup.

“I need one, man.” Daan says.

Appie shakes his head, “Ik ga naar huis. Waar is Alanis?” [I’m going home. Where is Alanis?] Appie walks away toward the bathroom, the other three guys just shrug at each other.

“A drink, Joost?” Stuntje asks, pointing to Joosts cup.

“Nee, man.” Joost shakes his head, swirling around his cup which sits half-full.

Daan and Stuntje head to the bar leaving Joost by himself in their section. A familiar, lingering sweetness in the air makes his lip twitch unconsciously into a smile, only one person enters his mind now that he’s alone. Joost searches for Valentine in her usual places, he wants to have a good sit down with her, watch her eyes light up when he gives her all the attention in the world—completely undivided now, he wants to hear her laugh because he hasn’t heard that sweet noise even once tonight! He wants to casually throw an arm around her and watch her blush, offer her a friendly rub on the arm as he innocently tucks her closer to his chest. But Valentine’s not sitting at the table or on the couch, she’s not standing in her corner or getting a drink at the bar. Joost furrows his brows, she couldn’t be on the dance floor could she? He strains his eyes trying to search the jumping crowd from afar but there’s absolutely no sign of that fiery head of hair anywhere.

Joost stares into the crowd of moving bodies for a while and then looks down at his watch, barely a few minutes past 10pm, where could she be? Out of the corner of his eye he catches Alanis coming back to grab her bag.

“Hey, is Valentine still in the bathroom or something?” Joost asks.

Alanis frowns slightly as she swings her purse over her shoulder, “She went home, Joost. I think your little comment made her feel stupid, she looked upset.”

“What?” Joosts heart nearly stops beating. He’s genuinely confused. “But I was joking…why would she leave?”

Alanis shrugs, “She never says anything, and that was the first time she decided to speak up, and you really embarrassed her for it.”

Joost goes red in the face, blinking rapidly, realizing that he had unintentionally probably fucked up Valentines entire night by humiliating her. And that was the last thing he ever wanted to do.

“Shit.” He breathes out, a weight crushing his chest.

“You coming?” Appie calls to Alanis from outside of the section, loud music still pumping through the club even though it feels like mere noise to Joost right now.

“Ja!” Alanis yells back, reaching out and giving Joost a squeeze to the arm, “You didn’t mean it and I’m sure she’ll get over it.” She tries to cheer him up but Joost only replies with a weak nod. “Goodnight Joost.”

“Night Alanis.” Joost watches her walk away and he waves one last time to Appie as the two head home.

-

Exhaustion. It hits Valentine so hard. Her eyes feel so heavy it hurts. The hot water still stings her previously frozen flesh, that hurts too. And so does her head. The image of Joosts face haunting her, replaying back his words and his laughter, the shocked look in his eyes when he acknowledged her…it almost looked like he’d never seen her before. Valentine cringes physically, shoulders coming up close to her ears, she hugs her knees to her chest and hides her face as though it’s all happening again. The water splashes around her with her repetitive movements as she rocks back and forth. She just wants the laughing to stop.

And she wants Joost to disappear.

She stays like that until her body can no longer bare still being awake. Her obsessive, circling thoughts have turned her brain to mush. And everything that happens after her bath goes by in a haze. But at least she’s warm.

The last thing Valentine does is fumble in the dark for her phone charger, slipping it into her phone before instantly passing out in her bed. Not a single thought passes through her mind that someone would want to call her tonight. She easily falls asleep feeling forgotten.

-

Stuntje and Daan have gotten into a heated conversation over at the bar, drinks sitting forgotten in front of them as they drunkly converse loudly with the guy sitting next to them. Joost is now completely alone in the section, heat still sitting under his face and heart still beating wearily.

He goes and sits in his usual spot, right next to where Valentine would usually be this time of night. He looks at the empty space next to him and realizes again that he’s been so stupid with his mouth when he hadn’t meant to be. If only Valentine could know that her absence is being noticed, more than that, it’s hurting him. Joost is alone. Friends are not far away, but he feels more alone now than ever. He hurt the girl he’s been admiring for months, she should be here, she should feel like she belongs, that she isn’t going to be embarrassed because she’s different, that she isn’t going to be made fun of by some stupid Dutch guy that’s actually so enamored with her.

It’s a cold night, snowing, she was definitely wearing a skirt…and heels. Joost is sick to his stomach, he pulls out his phone and quickly pulls up Valentines contact, their previous messages flashing in Joosts eyes, filled with brief small-talk, niceties, and nothing more.

22:18

J: Did you leave? :(

J: Sorry if I said something wrong. Really didn’t mean it.

J: Please call me.

J: I just want to know if you got home safe, I’m worried :(

J: I’m really really sorry Valentine.

--delivered--

Joost watches his screen for any sign of Valentine reading his messages, his leg bouncing up and down rapidly, he re-reads his own words over and over again, wondering if it’s too forward—not that he really cares actually—his stomach is twisted with anxiousness and nothing could stop it unless Valentine called him.

Joost hates waiting more than anything so five minutes passing, watching that little delivered icon never change, it feels like a fucking lifetime. He has to step out to smoke and standing there in the heavy snowfall just makes him feel even worse. The cigarette barely eases his mind so he tries to call Val. No answer. There’s not much more he can do, he assumes she really hates him now, and he just wants to know if she’s okay.

Reaching the last long drag of his cigarette confirms his decision, tomorrow if Valentine still hasn’t replied, he will go to April’s store and check on her in person.

[kkink]

so i have this one headcanon: mc goes to a party to forget the crush on jin, and meets haku. he offers to help.

_______________________________________

your fingers are already damp around the neck of another sweating bottle when you realize how much you've been drinking. the burn is welcome, smoothing out the rough edges of your thoughts, dulling that old, familiar ache in your chest. you don’t want to think about jin. don’t want to think about the way his voice had sounded - so flat, so unmoved. like it hadn’t cost him anything. you knock back another sip.

a laugh cuts through the noise, sharp and easy. you know that laugh. turn your head and see him - haku, lounging near the bar, one arm draped over the back of a chair, the other nursing a half-empty glass. his uniform jacket is missing, sleeves rolled up like he doesn’t have a care in the world, the veins in his forearms flexing. he catches you looking. grins.

“thought you were allergic to this kind of scene,” he says as you drift closer, half-shouting over the fifteen other ongoing conversations. “what changed?”

your tongue is also loose from the alcohol, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing. that you wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for jin. so you just lift your drink and nod your head, a non-answer. haku just looks at you like he understood. (he does.)

“so you got an L from the ice king, huh?”

the words shouldn’t sting as much as they do. you shrug, eyes dropping to the floor.

“that’s a shame,” haku continues, and there’s something almost genuine in his voice. but then—“stop making that pathetic face, though. you look like a kicked dog. don’t tell me you’re still in love with that idiot?”

haku watches you for a moment, then leans in, close enough that you can smell the faint trace of coconut and vodka on his breath.

“let’s help you get over him then. should be easy.” his voice dips, playful, but not unserious.

you tilt your head, eyes narrowing skeptically. “how?”

he smirks. “how about you go out with me? we can be friends, but you can kiss me. do other things. distract yourself. what do you think?”

his eyes glint under the shifting lights, the weight of the bassline pressing between them. something in his voice half a joke, half not.

you blink.

and then you laugh.

because it’s haku. haku, who flirts like it’s breathing, who’s probably said some version of this line at least twenty times tonight alone. haku, who once told a spirit she was the most beautiful ghost he’d ever seen before exorcising her five minutes later.

you shake your head, amusement curling at the edges of your lips. “actually, that sounds like a great idea,” you say, matching his tone, matching his game. then you tip your chin up, eyes glinting under the shifting lights. “should we start now?”

his smirk stretches, lazy, knowing. he doesn’t answer right away—just watches you like he’s waiting for something. maybe for you to break first, to laugh it off, to take it back. but you don’t. and suddenly, the air between you feels different. thicker. heavier.

haku tilts his head, gaze dipping briefly to your lips before flicking back up. and then, he grins like he’s won something.

“you’re dangerous when you drink, huh?”

you hum, feigning innocence. “i have no idea what you mean.”

he chuckles, tipping his glass against yours in a slow, deliberate clink.

“alright then,” he says, like he’s accepting a challenge. “let’s see where this goes.”

the heat of the party presses in from all sides, but suddenly, it feels like the only real thing in the room is the space between you and haku. the crowd is still moving, the music is still pounding, people are still drinking and laughing and existing around you—but it all feels a little distant now, like background noise to whatever this is.

his eyes don’t leave yours, that lazy grin still playing on his lips, like he’s waiting to see if you’ll flinch. if you’ll break first. you don’t.

you take another sip of your drink, the alcohol humming in your veins, making everything feel a little looser, a little easier.

“so,” he says, tipping his glass back, swallowing the last of whatever was inside. “if we’re starting now, what’s the move?”

you scoff, rolling your eyes. “you’re the one who made the offer, figure it out.”

he exhales a short laugh, then tilts his head, considering. the dim, shifting lights cast sharp lines over his face, catching the faint sheen of sweat at his temple. you can tell he’s enjoying this—this little back-and-forth, this game—but there’s something else under it, something you can’t quite place.

then, without warning, he leans in.

______________________________________________________

[...]

[asheepinfrance]

this is so nothing. it's unsalted gray boiled chicken on a potato bun. but i wrote it and its mine and i refuse not to post every little thing that i write because at least it's content! yay new little blurb. and I mean LITTLE blurb. this doesn't really have a plot to it, which is intentional, but if that's not really your thing then feel free to skip this one. i've got plenty of other ideas in the works. thanks for reading as always <3 your support means the world.

The room smells like the cigarette Patrick swore he’d open a window for. After all, he knows that you and Tashi hate the thick, bitter odor that sticks to his lips, hair, clothes for at least an hour after that last breath of smoke’s been taken. So he promises, even if he loves the little displeased scrunch it places beneath Tashi’s nose, to leave a window open. Tashi knows just as well as he does that he’s going to leave that window as closed as can be. Despite the complaints, you don’t really mind it as much as you claim to, at least not anymore. Now it’s a reminder of him. Now you don’t hate walking through swathes of it on crowded streets, especially when he’s away. You may just breathe it in harder those days. You couldn’t admit that to him, though, so you use all the energy you’ve got left in you to muster up a scowl. He laughs in your direction at the sight of it. 

You would probably get cold if the three people surrounding you weren’t so warm with previous effort, the sheen of a thin layer of sweat still glinting in the light atop their skin. Warm, smooth skin with a smattering of markings left, each to remain for days to come. Art’s almost as purple as he is pale in some areas, but he can’t really complain. He’s proud to display the evidence of being a man well-loved, even if it earns him a few disgusted glances in return. No one wants to speak anymore, voices curled in on themselves, huddled up in the depths of your chests. They’re resting, resetting, finding the time to stand back to full height. So why not let them? The sounds of breathing, labored, rapidly steadying, blowing out thick, billowing smoke, are enough. 

Someone’s hair is in your face, another’s hand just a bit too heavy on your shoulder, a third person has fallen asleep atop your thigh. It’s uncomfortable, it’s weight to shift around, it’s slowly maneuvering your body to wake up the leg which had fallen asleep with disturbing those around you. It’s joyfully, blissfully perfect. It’s feeling soft lips press against your neck, not seeking for anything more than contact, for space. It’s a hand pushing the sweat-damp hair off your forehead where your bangs had curled up onto themselves, and only having to hum a bit for the other person to respond with a satisfied ‘you’re welcome’. 

You know you’ll wake up with a crick in your neck later, thighs gone numb, hips sore and bruised with the indentations of multiple sets of hands. Your hair will carry the scent of Patrick’s second-hand smoke, maybe you’ll get some of Tashi’s perfume on you if there’s any that hadn’t been sweated away. Art will probably be the one to wake you, the one to kiss your closed eyes as sweetly as he would your lips, just to be the first thing you see when they open. So you sit back and breathe in that awful smell and let your breathing muffle under thick strands of hair, your legs begin to tingle with the foreshadowing of numbness. You don’t really care about the consequences anymore, because if this wasn’t worth the pain, than nothing was.

[dramaticallytotal]

Victory Tastes So Sweet

Is this another?

Yes.

It's another TDWT au.

Don't look at me.

________

A TDWT where Noah joined Team Victory instead.

Eva is on Team Chris.

Izzy is on Team Amazon.

Chris made his husband "randomly" roll a D6 Dice. To be fair, he did roll for everyone except for select people.

Chris does not allow Sierra and Izzy to switch because he will absolutely not put any of Team E-Scope together. One member with Owen is fine, except Noah, because those two work together a little too well, but other than that, Team E-Scope is not allowed together. They would dominate the game, and as funny as that would be, he can't do it. He wants the competition to actually last, plus it may or may not be a punishment for Noah since the little shit messed with hair care products! Admittedly, it was Chris's fault since he was maybe the one to start their little prank war when the kid was his assistant, but come on! You don't mess with a man's hair routine! The jerk replaced the product in his very expensive bottles of shampoo and conditioner with a 3-in-1 set!!! A 3-IN-1!!!

But, anyway, he does allow Sierra to switch with a different person on Team Amazon...

Cody!

Yeah. Chris would not subject the boy to a crazy stalker because he knows how that is, but Chris also can't just get rid of Sierra because of the producers. Well, not till he can make it seem natural and something out of his control.

Teams:

Team Victory - Noah, Lindsay, Ezekiel, Bridgette, DJ, Harold, and Duncan until he quit.

Team Amazon - Izzy, Gwen, Courtney, Sierra, Heather, Beth, and Leshawna

Team Chris - Eva, Cody, Alejandro, Owen, Tyler, Sierra, and Trent

------

I really like the idea of Noah being in Team Victory that some fics do. It would be really fun to figure out how that affects the team dynamics.

Because Duncan quit, Team Victory is at a number disadvantage, and it is one of the main reasons Alejandro targets them. Another reason is that he had already been working on his relationships with Lindsay and Bridgette, and since they weren't on his team and couldn't be of much use to him, they had to go. He knew he was good at pretending and keeping up appearances, but he also knew he couldn't do it forever because, at a point, it became exhausting. Which is another reason why the girls had to go.

Noah was pissed! He knew Chris put him on a team with Harold and without Izzy, Eva, or Owen in retaliation for the 3-in-1 prank. It was hilarious! It was also ridiculous how Chris knew as soon as he started putting the product in his hair because of the smell and the way it felt. Now he was going to suffer. Was it bad of him to hope they lost so he could throw Harold out the plane. They had only been a team officially for like ten minutes, and he was already done with the guy. He kept trying to take charge because he "knew more about Egypt than anyone here,gosh!" Then he kept interrupting Noah and Lindsay when they tried to make a plan. And THEN he kept throwing out random facts at the worst times. AND THEN he decided that wasn't enough and had to correct Noah when Noah was right. It took Ezekiel (EZEKIEL) snapping at him for the ginger to shut up and let Noah and Lindsay plan.

He was finally able to let his team know that their stick was, in fact, a dowsing rod. When they reached the river, Lindsay helped direct them on weaving their boat, Noah had some experience with weaving as his grandma did it frequently and taught all her kids and grandkids.

Once again, he lucked out as he stopped Ezekiel from trying to shoo away the crocodiles with their dowsing rod given he knew Chris, and he just knew if they came empty-handed they would be penalized or they would lose. The Amazon's still won, but thankfully, the challenge was declared a reward given Duncan had quit.

He didn't know that Alejandro had been observing his team during the challenge and specifically himself. Alejandro had seen how he let Lindsay lead, but how even she looked to him for information. It was like he naturally took up the position of leader and merely delegated tasks. Then he saw them on their boat and how he stopped his teammate from making a mistake.

Noah, as he remembered Chris introducing him as (he was great with memorizing faces and names), was harsh from what he'd seen and overly sarcastic. How these people listened to him, he didn't know. What he did know was that he was now on his list because he could already see how the boy would stray Lindsay and Bridgette from his influence by being a bigger influence given they are on the same team.

He also noted that there was already tension in the group.

He could work with that.

________________

Noah on Team Victory!

Beth, Eva, and Trent joining the game!

Noah and Lindsay iconic leader duo!

Alliance Team E-Scope + Owen, Lindsay, Beth, and Ezekiel!

Friendship trio Lindsay, Beth, and Ezekiel!

Ezekiel staying in the game and getting character growth!

Alenoah shenanigans way sooner! Because Alejandro sees Noah as a threat! Owen accidentally told the new guy too much about his Little Buddy because he was trying to be a wingman!

Lindsay getting to keep her character arc from season two!

No forgetting Tyler!

Leshawna, Heather, Gwen, and Courtney butting heads!

Added in challenges by me! Some inspired from Ridonculous Race!

Parental Chris and Chef! Of course!

Noah becoming reluctantly protective of his team (besides Harold)!

Team E-Scope being protective of each other! Of course!

Noah becoming a reluctant villain to protect his friends and team!

Alenoah threatening each other! I mean heavy flirting!

Owen trying to be a wingman for Noah!