#they had lots of cute moments like this <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[gf2bellamy]

hiii!

i was wondering if you could write spencer x reader, where she’s having a really bad day but spencer is coming home from a case and is exhausted, mentally and physically so she feels guilty that she would bother him with her mood

So she just hides away and is on the verge of a panic attack and spencer finds her and is all “you save me, so pls let me save you” and just comforts her (and calls her angel because 🫠)

thankyouuu so much (you dont have to do it if you dont want! no pressure at all!) i love your writing, it’s so incredibly cute and endearing <3

exhaustion — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: reader crying a lot , reader feeling guilty / tired / exhausted, spencer calls reader angel a/n: hii thank you so much for your request !! i hope you like this <3

The apartment was quiet—too quiet. You sat on the couch, curled up in one corner, staring blankly at the empty space in front of you. The TV was off, the big overhead light was off, and the only light came from the small lamp on the side table.

You hadn’t moved in what felt like hours, your mind swirling with the events of the day. It had been one of those days—the kind where nothing went right, where every little thing seemed to pile up until you felt like you were drowning under the weight of it all. 

You missed Spencer. A lot. Especially right now.

He had a way of making everything feel better. You longed for his comforting hugs and the way he’d listen to you ramble about your day.

But he wasn’t here. He was at work, buried under mountains of paperwork and case files.

The sound of keys jingling in the lock snapped you out of your thoughts. You jumped up from the couch, your heart leaping in your chest as you hurried to the door.

Spencer stepped inside, looking disheveled and exhausted. His tie was loosened, his hair was a mess, and there were dark circles under his eyes. He dropped his bag by the door with a heavy thud, and before you could say a word, he pulled you into a tight hug. 

You melted into his embrace, your arms wrapping around his neck as you buried your face in his shoulder. He smelled like coffee and faintly of paper. For a moment, you just stood there, holding each other.

“I missed you,” Spencer mumbled into your hair, his voice muffled but sincere. His hands rubbed soothing circles on your back.

“I missed you too,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. You didn’t want to let go, but after a moment, he pulled back slightly, his hands moving to cradle your face. His thumbs brushed gently over your cheeks.

“Today was horrible,” he said with a sigh, his shoulders slumping as he let go of you to shrug off his jacket. He ran a hand through his hair, looking more tired than you’d seen him in a long time. 

You bit your lip, hesitating. “What happened?” you asked softly, following him as he moved further into the apartment. 

He sighed again, sinking onto the couch and leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “Just… paperwork. So much paperwork. And then Garcia’s computer crashed, so we lost half the files we needed, and Hotch wanted everything reorganized by tomorrow morning…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “It was just one thing after another.” 

You sat down next to him, your heart aching as you watched him. He looked so drained, so unlike his usual self, and you felt a pang of guilt for even thinking about burdening him with your own problems.

Today had been hard for you, but it sounded like it had been even harder for him. The last thing you wanted was to add to his stress. 

So instead of talking about your day, you reached out and took his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I’m sorry,” you said quietly. “That sounds awful.” 

He gave you a small, tired smile, his fingers intertwining with yours. “It’s okay. It’s just… one of those days, you know?” 

You nodded, your throat tightening. You did know.

But you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him. Instead, you shifted closer, pulling him into another hug. He leaned into you, his head resting on your shoulder as you ran your fingers through his hair. 

“How was your day?” Spencer mumbled, his voice soft and drowsy as he leaned back against the couch, pulling you with him.

You settled against his side, his head still resting on your shoulder as your fingers continued to gently card through his hair.

The question caught you off guard, and you hesitated for a moment, your hand stilling briefly before you forced yourself to keep moving. 

“It was… good,” you said, your voice carefully neutral. You tried to inject a note of cheerfulness into your tone, but it came out sounding hollow, even to your own ears. 

Spencer hummed against your shoulder, seemingly too tired to notice the slight falter in your voice. “I’m glad,” he murmured, his words muffled as he nuzzled closer to you. His warmth was comforting, but it did little to ease the tightness in your chest. 

After a moment, he shifted, pressing a soft kiss to your temple before slowly sitting up. “I’m going to get changed,” he said, his voice still heavy with exhaustion.

He gave your hand a gentle squeeze before standing and heading toward the bedroom, leaving you alone on the couch. 

As soon as he was out of sight, the lump in your throat returned, thicker and more suffocating than before. You bit your lip hard, trying to hold back the tears that had been threatening to spill all evening.

But it was no use. The dam broke, and before you could stop yourself, you were on your feet, hurrying toward the bathroom. 

You shut the door behind you with a soft click, leaning against it as the first tear slipped down your cheek. Then another. And another.

Soon, you were crying , your shoulders shaking as you tried to stifle the sobs that threatened to escape. You muttered curses under your breath, frustrated with yourself for not being able to hold it together. 

“Get it together,” you whispered harshly, pressing the heels of your hands against your eyes. But the tears wouldn’t stop.

The tears kept running, your shoulders shaking as you tried to stifle the sobs that threatened to escape.

You felt like a mess, your face hot and your chest tight. But just as you were about to try to pull yourself together, you heard footsteps outside the bathroom door, followed by a soft knock. 

“Hey,” Spencer’s voice came through the door, gentle and concerned. “Can I come in?” 

You froze, your breath catching in your throat. You didn’t know what to do. Part of you wanted to tell him to go away, to spare him from seeing you like this, but another part of you desperately needed him.

You muttered a curse under your breath, wiping at your face with the back of your hand before slowly getting to your feet. 

You opened the door just enough to peek out, your eyes meeting Spencer’s. He was standing there, his expression soft but worried. His hair was still a mess, but his eyes were focused entirely on you. 

“Hey, hey,” he said immediately, stepping closer. “What’s wrong?” 

You sniffled, your throat tightening as you tried to find the words. “I—” you started, but your voice broke, and you shook your head, unable to continue.

How could you even begin to explain? Everything was wrong. The entire day had been wrong, and now you felt like you were falling apart. 

Spencer didn’t push. Instead, he reached out, his thumb brushing gently over your cheek, wiping away a tear. His touch was so tender that it only made you cry harder.

“Come on,” he said softly, his hand slipping down to take yours. He gave it a gentle squeeze before pulling you with him, leading you out of the bathroom and down the hallway. 

You followed him numbly, your fingers intertwined with his as he guided you to the bedroom. He sat you down on the edge of the bed and knelt in front of you, his hands resting on your knees as he looked up at you, his eyes searching yours. 

“Talk to me, angel,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “What’s going on?” 

The nickname made your heart ache, and you shook your head, fresh tears spilling over. “I didn’t want to bother you,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “You had such a bad day, and I didn’t want to make it worse.” 

Spencer’s expression softened, his hands moving to cradle your face. “You could never make my day worse,” he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. “And you’re never a bother. Not to me. Not ever.” 

You shook your head again, your hands gripping his wrists as you tried to steady yourself. “But you were so tired, and I didn’t want to—” 

“Hey,” he interrupted gently, his thumbs brushing away your tears. “You save me, I save you. That’s how this works, remember?” 

You nodded slowly, your breath hitching as more tears spilled over by just hearing those sweet words. Spencer leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before pulling you into his arms.

You went willingly, burying your face in his shoulder as he held you close. His hands rubbed soothing circles on your back, and you felt some of the tension in your chest begin to ease. After a while he slowly let go, but his hands remaining on your arms.

“Tell me about your day,” he said after a while, his voice soft but insistent. “What happened?” 

You hesitated, but the way he was looking at you—so patient, so understanding—made it impossible to hold back. So you told him. You told him about everything that had gone wrong.

And he listened, his hands never leaving yours, his eyes never wavering from yours. 

When you were done, he pulled you into his arms again, holding you tightly against his chest. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice low and steady. “I’m sorry you had such a bad day. But I’m here now, okay? And I’m not going anywhere.” 

You nodded, your face buried in his shoulder as you clung to him. For the first time all day, you felt like you could breathe again. Like maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay. 

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice muffled against his shirt. 

Spencer pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his arms tightening around you. “Always, angel,” he said softly. “Always.” 

[sheeple]

I wrote this at work today so it's small and not much but I had to get it out of my system and I thought it was cute. Part one | part two

You: sooooo remember when we saw my aunt while we were out for coffee a while ago? John <3: Of course. Why do you ask? You: she kinda told my mom and now mom's expecting me to invite you over for dinner. You: tomorrow You: like some inspection or smth :/ You: and I totally get if you're busy and can't come. It's kinda last minute John<3: Doll calm down. John<3: It's no big deal. I would love to meet them. You: Isn't it too much tho? You don't have to if you don't want to You: It's not like we're official or smth 🤷🏻‍♀️

You stare nervously at your phone as John types and stops and types again. While you and John have been going out for a while, you never really talked about what you two are. And you're not one to assume so unless one of you actually says something, you try to keep it casual.

Also, you're not totally freaking out that you like him a lot and he seems to like you a lot but nothing's happening.

Your phone lights up with a picture of John as he calls you. With a shaking hand, you press the call accept button.

"Hi", you say softly, gladly that you don't have to face him at the moment.

"I thought...", he clears his throat. "Wasn't I obvious with my intentions to you?"

You feel your heart drop at the slight insecure wobble his voice has. Great, now you feel bad...

Plucking at the hem of your jacket you answer, "I just didn't want to assume... What if you were just being nice?"

John sighs kind of relieved. "Doll... Who makes out with someone to just be nice?"

"I don't know!", you defend yourself, "I don't know how guys your age date." Dear lord you are digging a deeper and deeper hole for yourself.

John chuckles, a deep sound that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up in a good way. "Oh, how you wound me sometimes doll." You can hear the smile in his voice. "Fine", he sighs but it doesn't sound irritated. More... amused.

There's slight rustling and creaking from the other side of the line like he's sitting up straight. Unconsciously you do the same, pulling your legs towards you while you rest against the headboard of your bed.

"Would you do the honours of officially being my girlfriend?"

A wide smile spreads on your face and you nod, despite knowing he can't see it. "I would like that, John. Very very much."

[joecoolburrow]

Something Funnier Than 24

Summary: Reader and Joe fall in love over a lunch date and Spongebob references

Pairings: boyfriend!Joe Burrow x girlfriend!reader

Oneshot! Words: 1076

a/n: I don't have a masterlist because this is my first time writing for Joe! Please let me know if you enjoy it and want more. <3

It was going well. Your first two dates with Joe were romantic and you felt yourself falling. But, it was still so new you found yourself unable to relax around him, and you could tell Joe felt the same. So you felt like a bundle of nerves when Joe knocked on your door this afternoon.

It's just a casual matinee and lunch you told yourself to calm down.

"Hey." You greeted him with a shy smile.

Joe smiled brightly. Even in a t-shirt and jean he looked like a dream.

"Hey, you look great." He said as he admired you in your sundress. "Ready to go?"

"Hell yeah."

Joe laughed. Your eagerness was earnest but maybe not the most tactful. You felt a twinge of embarrassment, hoping Joe wasn't put off. He took your hand as you walked to the car.

Riding in a Porsche still felt foreign to you, but you tried not to let it show.

An awkward silence fell as the two of you drove off. Internally cursing your social skills (or lack-thereof), you hoped the movie and lunch would bring you closer together. You'd chosen some generic comedy that probably wouldn't be that good, but would likely give you a few laughs.

"Do you like Will Ferrell movies?" You asked.

"He's ok." Joe shrugged and didn't take his eyes off the rode. "My family watches Elf every Christmas."

"Mine too! It's a classic."

Joe smiled.

"I think comedy and action are my favorite movie genres. What about you?"

"Uh," Joe twisted his lips. "I like everything except horror movies."

"Really?" You said with surprise. "I love scary movies!"

"Not my thing."

Another awkward silence. Shit, you thought to yourself. Joe was such an amazing guy. You felt the spark. You dreamed of what loving him would be like. But moments like this made you worry you weren't compatible.

Joe reached for the radio and turned the volume up. "I love this song. Do you know it?"

You really wished you could say yes. But you had no idea what song was playing or who the artist was, so you shook your head.

The rest of the ride you and Joe made small talk. The movie was fine, nothing special, but you loved seeing Joe laugh. There were a few times you'd both burst out laughing and turn to look at each other. It felt like fireworks.

After the movie, you went to a local diner. It had an old school vibe. Joe helped you into the red booth in the back and picked up a menu.

"This is the perfect place for a cheeseburger." You said.

"Yeah," Joe agreed. "I started craving one when we were still in the parking lot."

"They have 30 different milkshakes to choose from." Joe said

"Mmm, I'm gonna have a hard time deciding." You said, even though you knew you'd probably go for strawberry like usual.

"Pick a good one, I'll split it with you."

Why did that suddenly feel like a lot of pressure? You carefully studied the list and weighed your options.

A waiter in a paper hat came up to your table and smiled, "What can I get the cute couple?"

Joe looked at you.

"Umm, could we please get the strawberry banana milkshake? Two straw please." You told the waiter. "And two cheeseburgers."

He winked. "A number 24, coming right up."

As the waiter walked away you smiled to yourself. 24. Joe looked at you curiously.

"24." You said, unsure if he would get it. "I thought of something funnier than 24...

"25!!!" Joe and you said at the same time. You erupted in laughter with him.

"I always think of that whenever I hear the numbers 24 or 25." You told him as you regained your composure. "I was hoping you would get that. A lot of people think I'm insane when I say it."

"I think of Spongebob quotes all the time." Joe said enthusiastically.

He moved his hands in a rainbow motion, "Imagination!"

You couldn't hold back your giggles.

You picked up one of the mayo packets on the table and quoted, "Is mayonnaise an instrument?"

Joe's whole face turned red from laughing. When he caught he breath, he said, "What about: The pioneers used to ride these babies for miles!"

"The Krusty Krab pizza is the pizza for you and me-he" You sang.

Your eyes met Joe's and something just clicked. There it was. The ease, the comfort, the friendship. You felt like you could be your true, quirky self with him and he would embrace it.

"I've never dated anyone who liked Spongebob as much as me." Joe admitted.

"Me either."

The milkshake came and you felt giddy as you and Joe both plopped your straws in. You leaned in for a sip, but Joe held up a finger signaling to wait. He suddenly grabbed his phone. You were a little confused, but a moment later, your phone dinged.

It was a text from Joe: "Is this the Krusty Krab?"

You tried to keep a straight face as you replied, "No, this is Patrick." but the laughter got the best of you.

You spent the rest of lunch talking about all your favorite Spongebob episodes, which lead to talking about your childhoods, which lead to talking about your favorite memories, which lead to more laughter. You felt like you knew Joe so much better than you had just a few hours ago.

On the ride home, you leaned your head onto his shoulder. You felt comfortable and at peace. When Joe pulled in to your driveway, he looked at you with a pout.

"This may be lame, but that was the most fun I've had on a date in....." Joe trailed off. "in forever."

"Me too."

He stroked your shoulder. You both leaned in for a kiss as if magnetized. His lips were so soft and sweet.

When you looked into each other's eyes again, you saw Joe's adoring eyes and wished the moment would last forever.

"Are you busy the rest of the day? Because I'd really like it if you wnated to come in." You asked, internally begging the gods of fate he would say yes, but unsure if he had other plans today.

"I can. But-" Joe smirked mischieviously. "Don't you have to be stupid somewhere else."

You kissed him again. He responded enthusiastically, but you broke it off to whisper in his ear.

"Not until four."

[itsnesss]

hi! can I request a hwang in-ho x pregnant wife!reader? I think it would be really cute, but feel free to turn it down if you’re uncomfortable! Thank you! <3

𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 | hwang in-ho (the frontman) × fem!reader

summary | you, pregnant and married to in-ho, share a quiet, loving moment with him as you both feel the baby move

warnings | pregnant!reader, fluff, romance, mild emotional themes

word count | 1.9 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me, thanks ᡣ𐭩

In bed, you and him share a well-deserved rest after so many emotions. The sound of his calm breathing lulls you, like a whisper that connects you to him even more deeply.

You slowly open your eyes. It’s one of those nights when you wake up for no apparent reason, as if something called you. At first, you can't identify it, but when you glance to your side and see Hwang In-ho, your husband, sleeping soundly, you understand. There is nothing to fear at this moment, nothing that could break the peace surrounding you.

The pregnancy has made you more sensitive than usual, and though sometimes you feel the fatigue overwhelming you, being here, in his arms, with your baby growing inside you, makes everything else fade away.

You gaze at In-ho with a mixture of admiration and love. His face, serene and relaxed in sleep, reflects a calmness that has always given you security. The man who once was part of the dark operation of Squid Game is now the man who takes care of you, the one who has given you the life you always dreamed of.

You move carefully, trying not to wake him. Your belly, already big and round, constantly reminds you of what’s coming, of what you’ve already done: giving life to a new person who will grow alongside you, sharing the same values of love, loyalty, and peace you’ve found with him.

In-ho, sensing the movement, slowly wakes up. His expression, still sleepy, turns to concern as he sees you sitting on the bed.

"Is something wrong?" he asks, his voice rough from sleep.

"No, I just... couldn’t sleep," you reply softly, offering a small smile.

He sits up, studying you with that protective intensity he’s always had. It doesn’t matter if it’s in the middle of the night; he always worries about you, about how you feel. Since the moment you told him you were expecting a baby, he hasn’t stopped showing you his support.

"Is the baby okay?" he asks, his voice now filled with care and concern.

You nod, placing your hand gently on your belly.

"Yes, everything is perfect. It's just... sometimes it’s hard to rest."

He moves closer, placing his hand over yours, which rests on your belly, and looks at you with those eyes that always seem to shine more when he’s looking at you.

"I understand. This pregnancy has tested you, but you're not alone. I’m here, remember? I’ll always be by your side."

A wave of gratitude and love floods you as you hear his words. You know they aren’t just empty promises; he’s proven it in every little gesture, in every action. In-ho has been the pillar that has supported your life, not only in the happy moments but also in the darkest ones. And now, with the baby on the way, his support is more important than ever.

You lean closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder. He embraces you tightly, as if he wants to make sure nothing can harm you, that nothing can take you out of this safe place.

"I love you," you whisper, closing your eyes as you enjoy his warmth.

In-ho breathes deeply, as though by inhaling your scent, he draws strength from it. At first, he doesn’t respond, but then his voice, soft and filled with affection, breaks the silence.

"I love you too, more than words can express. Not just for what you do for me, but for everything you are."

His words are like a caress to your soul. Since you married him, your life has changed in ways you never imagined. What started as a love full of uncertainty is now the foundation of your world. He’s shown you an unconditional love, a love that transcends the past and everything both of you have gone through before finding each other.

Suddenly, a small movement inside you makes you smile. It’s the baby, reminding you that there’s a new life growing inside you, that soon it will be part of this great love you share with In-ho. You feel that he notices it too, as he looks down at your belly.

"Did you feel that?" he asks, a spark of excitement shining in his eyes.

"Yes, it just moved," you say, your voice full of tenderness, and you can’t help but stroke your belly as if doing so will transmit all the love you feel.

In-ho places his hand over yours, feeling the tiny kick of his child for the first time. He smiles with a mix of disbelief and happiness. You know the idea of being a father fills him with a deep love that he never expected.

"It’s incredible... I can’t wait to hold him in my arms," he says, his voice filled with emotion, more sincere than you ever imagined.

You smile and hug him tighter. Words aren’t needed at this moment. The connection between the two of you is deeper than any conversation. Everything you’ve been through, everything you’ve endured, now makes sense. Because the future ahead is brighter than you ever imagined.

You stay in silence for a moment, enjoying the embrace, the quiet intimacy. Time passes without you even realizing it, until the first rays of sunlight begin to filter through the window. In-ho kisses your forehead before getting up slowly, making sure not to wake you completely.

"I’m going to make breakfast," he says in a soft voice, smiling.

You stretch, feeling a bit tired but happy. The idea that he’s there for you, doing little things to make you feel good, makes you smile.

"Don’t worry, I can wait," you softly reply, settling back into the bed.

But he looks at you, his eyes filled with a tenderness he rarely shows in public, and walks over to you again, planting a kiss on your forehead.

"I promise you won’t go hungry," he says with a playful smile.

You laugh softly and watch him leave the room, his steps firm and assured. You know that In-ho will always be the man who makes you feel safe, who will never stop fighting for you, for the baby, for your family. The future with him is everything you ever wanted.

You sit there in silence, thinking about all that is to come. In-ho’s love has changed you in ways you never expected. Not only has he given you a new life, but he’s shown you a love that will always be there, even on the darkest days.

[uranometrias]

an ode to fake hatred — dean winchester

→ premise: the one where sam notices the exact moment dean starts to view you as someone more than just a third party on their mission to locate john winchester!

→ pairing: dean winchester x fem!reader

→ warnings: crack <3 , very short, mostly in sam's pov. takes place sometime during s1. reader is described to have lost a significant other <3

→ a/n: this is actually an excerpt from my dean x female! oc fic that i published on wattpad, but i thought it'd be cute to publish as a short little imagine too! <3

You had never felt like much more than a weapon to be wielded. Something to smite, to kill, and to be used. Never destined to be more than the thing forged to bring someone else to their destiny. Sitting in the Impala though, brought you a happy exception.

You never felt like anything outside of normal sitting inside that car.

You lets your toes wiggle as they sit up on the dashboard, knowing full well that the moment Dean catches you, he'll have your head. But, you'd filled a lot of your time with the Winchesters by getting under the skin of the eldest. He had not been happy about the fact that Sam had asked you to come along, but apparently some nightmare had him convinced you weren't safe if you were on your own.

Dean hadn't been as keen on the plan, but over time he'd warmed up to you in his own Dean-like way. You weren't sure exactly why Sam had even let you sit up front, you'd become quite accustomed to sitting in the back, familiar with every divot, every nook, cranny, and percy magazine Dean had hidden under the seats.

You'd even found having to lean in between driver and passenger seat to feel like part of the conversation between Sam and Dean, an expected part of your day-to-day schedule. Not today though, your muddied shoes had become decoration for the floor, and Sam's snorting as he takes in your polka-dotted socks.

A little childish, sure. But, they were also exceptionally comfy. Especially when she was forced to wear boots and sneakers most times of the day. You offer sam your middle finger in response to his snort, and that serves to make him chuckle. The sound helps to ease some of the tension you felt. Without meaning to, your eyes scan the outside of the car, and you hate the way your eyes light up of their at the sight of Dean finally coming out of the gas station.

His hands are full of all sorts of junk, and his smiling like the cat that ate the canary. You know nothing good could come out of it. You smack your teeth the second Dean's opening the passenger door, poking his head in, and chucking the entire pile right at you. Snacks smack your face, raining down like a junk-food shower. It makes you swing at him, just barely missing his face as he jerks away, shutting the car door behind him.

You find your lips curving up into a small fond smile when you hear the way your retaliatory actions make him chuckle. Sam is watching you closely, eyes jumping from you and then to his brother as Dean stands outside and pumps the gas. You're so caught up in watching Dean that you don't even notice the way Sam is reading you like a book.

He was no dummy, and he thanked his lucky stars that as the days began to roll together the arguments that used to fill up the time between you and Dean had started becoming far and few in between. It was precisely why he was sitting in the back, he had a bit of a hypothesis he was testing out. He'd never push a grieving person back into the dating fray, Lord knows he wasn't ever going to be over Jess.

But... there was something oddly poetic about the way you and Dean, two people who were a lot more alike than either dared to admit seemed to have found this new rhythm.

There was a quiet push and pull, both of you tiptoeing closer and closer to some massive fork in the road that would spin you down a different path forever.

Sam wasn't sure which way you two were headed though, not completely. Especially because tender looks when the other wasn't looking was not quite enough to prove anything. If it were all of Dean's taunts about you and Sam being in love would have a bit more merit.

Sam leans back, caught off guard when Dean returns, sliding into the car, and digging through the pile you'd let partially spill onto the floor, before finally offering him his own assortment of junk to quiet the grumbling of his stomach.

He hates the way you all live sometimes, but he knows your profession makes it hard to be too picky. As the impala comes back to life, Sam is looking between Dean and you again.

You're kicking your feet happily, mouth full of what looked like your favorite gas-station snacks, as well as something else that looked more like Dean's favorite. It was small things like that, that you did deliberately to garner a reaction from Dean.

The two Winchesters catch eyes in the mirror, and Sam is certain he looks smug as he stares down his obvious older brother. His eyebrow then quirks at the way Dean suddenly seems to take in the way you're eating his food, before his eyes jump to your feet perched up on the dashboard.

Sam chokes on a laugh the second Dean's hand flies out and swats at your feet. You let out a shocked gasp, glare pinned straight on the oldest. "What the hell's your problem?" you seethe as Dean's eyes roll.

"Get your damn feet down." he demands, swatting at your foot again.

It makes you smack your teeth, popping his hand as a small tussle ensues with Dean trying his hardest to remove your foot from off the dash. "You're lucky enough to be sitting in the front, and you wanna go 'head and mess it up." he scolds. Sam's stifling a snort, watching as you lean over the center console to flick his ear.

You don't move your feet, in fact you let your body slump until your feet were near touching the windshield, and Sam's eyes are back on Dean, almost wondering what he'll do next. "Oh, nice. That's real mature." Dean grumbles, but there's no real bite behind the words, and you seem to know as much. What with the way you smile up at him in a way that makes your eyes close, and exposes all your teeth.

"I don't get paid to be mature." you retort. "It's actually my life's mission to piss you off, Deano. Deal with it." you mutter with a shrug.

Sam notes the moment Dean's eyes seem to soften as he stares at your side profile. You're looking ahead though, no longer giving him your attention. "Well trust me, you're doing a damn good job." Dean's sarcasm makes Sam huff out a laugh, the quiet nose ignored by you and Dean once more. It was always like that with you two. Easy to get lost in the moment and forget who else could possibly be around.

"Good, I'll be here all week."

"Someone kill me now." Dean grumbles, and this makes you turn your head, jaw dropped as you gasp dramatically.

"Take that back." you demand as Dean's eyes roll at your dramatics. "You love me, and you know it." you accuse, finger pointing right at him as it jabs into his cheek, pushing his head away from the road. A nuisance, that's what you were, the kind that lingered under his skin, and all in his mind. He hated you most times, liked you a lot more than normal at other times. It was a nauseating experience.

It wasn't like you were unattractive, you were just annoyingly sweet towards Sam, oftentimes getting him in a way Dean didn't. If he was honest, it was the most annoying part of your whole arrangement, feeling like the stranger with his own brother.

You called him Sammy like it was the name he'd been birthed with, and he never had any quips or qualms about it. And you'd tug at his arm like a silent shadow, saying everything with your eyes when he'd look at her. No matter how tired, or exhausted he might have been, he always, always understood exactly what you were trying to convey.

And when he'd fall asleep in the front seat of the impala, you'd slip multi-colored scrunchies from off your wrists and make ponytails in the shaggy mop of hair he'd sported, and never once received more than a playful eye roll. He laughed at all your jokes, laughed until he couldn't breathe. He smiled, and let it reach his eyes.

He listened to every incessant ramble of yours. Never complaining, never telling you to shut up, only listening devotedly. And you talked, a lot. Talked about anything and nothing at all.

You were annoying, Dean knew that from the very first night you'd met. You grated on every single last nerve he had, and seemed so oblivious to just how unwanted your presence was. You laughed too loud, ate too slow, asked too many questions.

You forced yourself into conversations that didn't concern you, and made every motel room, every space they stepped into your own. Even now, your perfume filled the impala, making it smell much to sweet for the job you did, for the sort of life you lived. You were just wildly out of place, and Dean hated you for it.

Still, he turns his head back towards you, taking you in as you continued to gawk at him like he'd really wounded you, and he smirks. Mostly because he knew you were only playing up your dramatics to fill the empty spaces of the road trip. "Do I know that?" he queries, and it makes your eyes narrow. "Believe me, sweetheart. The only thing keeping you from becoming a hitchhiker is Sam's dumb little crush on you." he says firmly, and you snort.

Sam scoffs, because he doesn't have a crush on you. Not really.

"That was almost convincing." you reply. "But, your heart's just not in it." and with that, you're effectively shutting him up. You kick your feet some more, ultimately getting bored of the action, and deciding to sit up straight. Your feet though, don't touch the ground, instead you sit criss cross applesauce, and go back to eating your 'breakfast'

"Shut up." he gripes back, and you go through the motions of pretending to zip your lips. Your eyes wander, a devilish grin wiggling onto your face as you take in the radio. You're trying your best to get your hand on the dial, gasping when Dean's hand whips out and stops you. ''Would you just sit still?" he demands, and you want to scream. Mostly because road trips with the Winchesters could go on for hours, and what did you have if not your ability to piss him off?

"Would you just sit still!" you mock him, voice dropping a few octaves. "It won't kill you to listen to something outside of -" and you turn to look back at Sam. "What did you call it? Mullet Rock's greatest hits?" you call back to your very first hunt partnered up with the boys. "I happen to know that if you just flip your dumb cassette over, you'll like what you hear." you say, and Dean's shaking his head at you.

"My car, my rules, princess."

"You're the princess." you shoot back gruffly.

"You two are unbelievable." Sam comments, and that shuts you and Dean up instantly. Dean's grip on the wheel is tightening just slightly, all traces of humor escaping him for the moment, as you pivot your entire body, facing the window as you go back to quietly eating chips. Sam's not sure what's gotten into the both of you, if it had something to do with the fact that you weren't alone and were behaving as such, or if you both had just realized just how obvious you were being with your interest.

There's a brief moment where none of you are talking, only the quiet thrum of whatever was playing from the radio filling the space. That is until Dean's hands, quick as lightning are crossing the car to snatch the bag of chips from your grasp. You gasp exaggeratedly, and Sam's stifling another laugh, because Dean's pretending to be so unbothered. Grumbling something about spending extra money on snacks for you when you spent all your time eating his shit anyway.

Sam witnesses the second Dean sets the bag in a space that's perfectly accessible to the both of you. Cutting eyes at you, as you narrow your eyes at him, before slyly letting your hand move to the bag. Sam supposed this could serve as the answer he needed for his hypothesis, his eyes catching Dean's again in the mirror. Though, there's no smirk on his face this time, in fact, no smugness in his eyes at all instead... he finds that he's happy for his brother.

Even if the idiot didn't know why yet.

[honestlyanowl]

hey, maybe if you’re interested you could write some head cannons for Vi with an insecure reader? like with stretch marks, a curvy body, etc? or jinx too if you’d like :3

Hi doll! That's so cute of course I can <3 (REQUESTS OPEN)

♡ I feel like Vi would be super sensitive around the subject, but absolutely not afraid to shut down your self negativity, showering you in compliments. You'd notice a cluster of stretch lines and visibly grimace a little. Vi would snake her arms around your waist, tracing the pads of her fingers over the marks and cooing softly.

"they're like little battle scars," I feel like her voice would be teasing, but yet filled with so much adoration. If you got embarrassed, she'd be quick to point out her own, the faint stripes of purple and white that skimmed over her shoulders. And if you had a curvier body? Once again, Vi really loved you however you were, whether that meant the slimmer form some obtained, or something uniquely as beautiful like your own.

♡ Though if it were Jinx, it's be every second mention. She'd trace over them with vibrant paints and in turn let you copy that on the veins that ran around her eyes. She loved them, to her they made you look badass. And if you had curves? She couldn't give less of a shit, she was just as obsessed. Jinx never found herself caring about your appearance, in fact all she could ever do was compliment it. You were different from the cookie cutter perspective a lot of people aimed toward, and she loved that about you. As long as you were happy, so was she. And if you weren't? She'd make sure to drown you in reassurances. If there was even a brief moment where you wondered if she really loved your body, she'd make it very clear that she definitely did. Even if that meant rambling on for minutes on end about everything that made her fall in love with you in the first place. - Owl 🌹

[my-rose-tinted-glasses]

Weekend Ramblings

GelBoys Episode 1

Great first episode. I like that they're using public transport and walking outside a lot, it feels more alive and realistic even if I have no real frame of reference. I like that the nails are telling the passage of time and this is going fast. The first episode spanned 3 months at least judging from that, probably more.The visuals are really good and I really like the editing, and the way it's shot almost makes me feel like I'm watching a documentary. Seems like this will be messy and angsty teenagers kinda bl and I'm ready.

Perfect 10 Liners Episode 16

I'm still comfortable in my hypocrisy and will use this gif whenever it suits me. Cause Faifa is me, in any other show but this one.

There's something about a brooder begrudgingly falling for the ray of sunshine he swore he’d never need, that I just adore. Add to that the fact that the brooder is played by Perth and I'm in uni bl heaven. I loved this arc so damn much. These two make such an adorable couple and Perth and Santa are great together. I'm surprised with their chemistry but also not, cause I think both of them can probably have chemistry with anyone. If they stay a pair for now I'm on board. Although I do enjoy seeing Perth kissing different boys. We had another parental forgiveness moment which I hate but at least she's moving away and I won't have to see her again. I love Faifa and as much as I hate saying goodbye to YothaGun, it's gonna be fun to watch him and Wine. I do hope just like ArcArm, I still get some crumbs from those two.

Boy Next World Episode 6

Say what you will about Mame but she can deliver a sex scene like no one else. I like that Phu has agency here and that there's real communication happening around and during the nc scenes. Boss and Noeul also deliver as usual but I find the dynamic a little too similar to LITA, and I don't love that. I think it happens more when it comes to Noeul, although I concede that I'm often too distracted by Boss's face to notice much of anything at all, but there are moments that I'm seeing Rain instead of Phu. Fake dating seems to be the go-to these days to keep psychos away and I'm not mad about it. That mother though. His stalking tendencies notwithstanding, it’s a wonder Cir is a functioning human at all. I really like the sides and I adore Jin.

Sangmin Dinneaw Episode 7

This show continues to be the weirdest. And I don't know what I did to deserve this but I think I got a double prize today. Amnesia plot my beloathed and some noble idiocy to follow. At least when it comes to the amnesia we were warned. Although I'm not sure when he actually remembered, so he might not have had amnesia at all. Honestly, who knows with this show? Half the time, I have no idea what's happening, and the other half, I wish I didn't. That scene with the sides gave us the usual whiplash, and the scene with the mother was just insane. It's psycho mom's day, apparently. At least with this one, we got to see some mom-on-mom fighting. It's all bonkers but at least there's only one more episode to go. Sangmin better have a damn good reason for leaving, although I doubt it. At least let me have some fluff from these two, cause they are cute. Also why is the hotel dude still breathing?

[campcampkirbykirbykirby]

Camp Camp Commentary Notes - Season 1, Episode 2: Mascot

Writer's Commentary

Kerry doesn't remember anything about writing this episode

Except that he does because he wrote the Rube Goldberg scene to mess with the crew because it would be hard to animate and they did it anyway

Miles worked with Al McClelland, Jr (storyboard artist) to come up with the different parts of the machine, including the inhaler, another reused element from the scrapped pilot

Kerry helped to establish the levels of weird the series could go which had not been properly foreshadowed in the first episode, likely due to time

Kerry, as well as Rooster Teeth pariah Gray Haddock, had the most involvement in making the Quartermaster who he is

Kerry took this being the second episode very seriously, trying to figure out what a normal episode after the pilot is, but then decided making it "normal" was a bad idea so they made it weird instead

At this point, the only three episodes that were in progress were this, the pilot, and Scout's Dishonor.

Lots of little details that come up because the crew thought it would be funny

David has very red elbows

Yet another repurposing from the scrapped pilot is Neil's line about the camp being a future Walmart parking lot

In fact, it was part of a much bigger blowup Neil had in that pilot, compared to the one we got

Quartermaster has a lot of his own sound design, like changing his hook hands, which they deliberated on for a moment

Bear ears don't have bones, likely added for clarity

Lots of jokes added by Al, not all make it in

Kerry will sometimes write entire episodes around single lines he comes up with, such as Quartermaster's "grumble grumble jews" bit (which does come off as anti-semetic but could really mean anything, according to Kerry)

Said line being uncomfortable is the point, in that way it's no different from anything else about the Quartermaster

Before Harrison's backstory was his brother was pinned down, his initial shtick was just being bad at magic

The "bad idea in hindsight" line was added to justify them running to the dock

Point of the episode was to give the camp the worst mascot imaginable

All the other animals, the crew made as cute as possible, meanwhile the platypus "eats the shit out of Larry" per the script

MYSTERIOUS BLACK HAIRED GIRL (it's really more of a dark blue)

Cast and Crew Commentary

Jordan, Maggie, (Sick) Elizabeth, (Healthy) Cole

Larry's screams were done by Maggie

Platypus has 3 voices: Alena Lecorchick on snarls and growls, Miles doing the "Donald Duck talk", Jordan did all the muacks

This was the first episode to be really worked on start-to-finish, the pilot didn't get too far before being reworked

Quartermaster's bag might have dead goose or whale carcass

The nose-wiping bit is highlighted in both commentaries, it was part of the crew trying to understand the characters, as was the whole sub-plot with Max and Quartermaster

Elizabeth makes her friends watch Camp Camp, something she doesn't do with most of her filmography, help get some of them hooked

Some backgrounds here were reused in Season 2

Some consideration was put into perfecting the creepy atmosphere of certain scenes, like the centipede

Okay, so the bear skeleton in the cave was changed specifically to look more bear-like

Plug for the out-of-print Platypus plush (have fun searching eBay!)

No one is quite sure where the "King of the Forest" bit came from

Matt Hullum lost it when he saw it, which is a sign they've done something right

The stab was initially way more gruesome, it was toned down for the final episode

Everything Nerris sees is magic, established with the tin can/"wizard's amulet"

Docks give the crew trouble, they can't remember if there's supposed to be one or two

Mysterious camper again, this was part of the initial concept of the camp being bigger than just what we see, with extra camps and campers strewn about, but this was eventually phased out

[yourlowkeyidiot3]

Hot take (not really)

I think we as a fandom should acknowledge Junho's trauma more. Like, he did so much for his brother. He risked his life, he killed, he was almost sexually assaulted. All to find out what had happened to Inho. Only to find out he was the frontman and get betrayed by him. Oh my god. Can you imagine how traumatizing that is?? Imagine that your older brother, who you admired and looked up, the person who had literally saved your life by donating his kidney to you. Suddenly goes missing for years and you have no idea what happened to him. There's no trace of him, he doesn't respond to your texts/calls. He just randomly disappeared. And then you find out about the games so you undercover as a guard to try and gather as much information as possible to find out what happened to him. Only to then find out the same brother you loved so much has been running death games during all those years he was missing, only to get shot in the shoulder by him. JESUS that is A LOT to take on. The worst part? He doesn't even know that Inho wasn't trying to kill him. That he hired Captain Park to save him. So for all he knows (for now) his brother, the person who he admired the most. Was trying to kill him. And ALSO that his new saviour, the person who's been kind to him and helping him all those 3 years (Captain Park) is also a traitor working for the games and sabotaging his plans (he doesn't know that yet but I just know it's gonna break him further once he learns). But YET he still cares for his brother so much that he doesn't give away his identity to Gihun to protect him.

*Grabs Junho by the shoulder and shakes him* "You've got some serious issues man!"

And I wish more people actually explored all that trauma in their fanfics cause guys...I know we all like the cute sibling bounding and fluff...but come on guys..there has to be a moment where we have to acknowledge that Inho, even if unintentionally, still caused Junho severe trauma. Guys I know we want wholesome stuff but we can't keep denying canon do you guys get me...

[megapteraurelia]

hiii just saw your post about needing distraction and if i can help you even a little bit then i’d be happy to!! so id like a drabble with akaashi, f!reader or gn!reader, fluff, at uni?? if that’s fine?? have a lovely day <33

zeugmas and feelings.

summary | akaashi keiji and you found each other while trying to survive deadlines. or: how to not get anything done because akaashi keiji is just so damn pretty. warnings | none! it's meet-cute and fluff :3; fem!reader word count | 4449. a/n | elie, i love you, you precious!!! thank you for this and i'm sorry that i didn't keep to the idea of a drabble. for the life of me, i could NOT pass up writing several moments of akaashi so there's 4.5k words full of them instead T_T i hope i made it justice, though :3 please let me know what you think! -` ♡ ´-

the library was silent on sunday; eerie yet comforting in a way. 

the sun had long since set, the last of the rays that came through the windows bathing everything in a light that felt more nostalgic than it actually was before it dipped everything outside in a dark cloak. among the typing sounds on different kinds of laptops, their engines more than ready to take off after being used for so long, there was only the ticking of the clock, sometimes a soft clearing of throats or the gentle clink of a thermo cup being set down.

looking up from the mock exam you were taking for your cultural studies class, flexing your cramped fingers and rolling your shoulders, your eyes found the only other person sharing your space that late. you didn’t mean to look over at him lest you made anybody feel awkward, but in an entire picture of stillness before you, the movement drew your eyes naturally.

his fingers were swift, flying over the keyboard, gaze trained at his screen, trusting his hands to instinctively and automatically follow the letters. you couldn’t see his eyes properly, though, the glare of the laptop reflecting off his glasses. though you could see the little furrow of concentration in his brows, his teeth worrying his lower lip as he halted for a second, thinking. then nodding to himself, they resumed their display of a gear having turned in his brain. 

your eyes wandered away from him to your own screen, the words staring at you, and you wondered once again whether you should have chosen a different topic to cover in this assignment. would american history work better? did you have enough characteristics to explain the relevance in the corresponding text? or did you perhaps want to stay focusing on orientalism? 

after all, american history was your current topic discussed in class, its myths and ideologies, transformation of gender roles, the age of realism and science. it would be easier to just focus on any of those: the harlem renaissance, counterculture and postmodernism, the gilded age— 

you rubbed your eyes, and a sigh escaped your mouth, strong and carrying a lot of exhaustion; your lungs pushed the air out forcefully. you were too far in to scrap everything and start anew with a whole nother topic, so there was only one plausible and logical conclusion to draw:

get more coffee and force your brain cells to work.

standing up from your spot, senses tuned into the stillness of the library, you noticed something. or lack thereof. no typing noise anymore that had accompanied you for hours on end; the seat in front of the man’s laptop empty, his notebooks still open on the table, though no cup on the empty coaster. 

as you walked by with your empty mug and passed the little area that his pens and his dispersed papers claimed as his for the time being, you let your eyes flit over his screen. walls of paragraphs comparing two different works of literature on one half of his desktop, another document open with several similarities and differences listed on the other half. 

“japanese lit, huh?” you mumbled to yourself, tired eyes straying away from his possessions and your feet automatically carried you to the coffee machine at the entrance of the library that the students of various classes had invested in to aid them during their emotional breakdowns…uh, quest to finish their essays and assignments in time. 

zoning out, gripping your mug in one hand, you barely recognised the familiar movement of a person occupying the space in front of you out of the periphery of your eyes as you neared the coffee machine, so you only came back to reality when your nose was suddenly squished against a warm barrier that smelled like cappuccino and old books. 

“easy,” a deeper voice than yours called out close to your head, one hand having already come up to steady you when you lost your balance. his hand was warm against your back, the heat seeping through the layers of your woolen turtleneck, and for a second you both occupied the same space, the only sound the ticking of the clock.

“oh, sorry,” your response was automatic, sheepish and you stepped back, “i probably saw you but my brain didn’t work quick enough to actually see you.”

your gaze found the missing person whose laptop you snooped through (did it count as snooping if you only quickly looked at the screen enough to see what he was working on? you didn’t even touch anything, promise), and this time you could see his eyes, unhindered by any light reflection. 

pretty, you thought off-handedly, really pretty eyes.

“no stress,” one shoulder heaved up, and when his fingers stopped supporting you once he saw you didn’t need his help anymore, your back felt weirdly cool. it was nice having felt the heat of his arm around your body in the absence of any human contact in the face of studying. 

he filled water into the reservoir of the coffee machine, a cup of beans already measured from before you walked into him. you cleared your throat and nodded in thanks; he bowed his head quickly, waving off your thank you, his hand nudging up his glasses perched on his nose when they threatened to slide down. 

they were a bit big, but the earnest look of the dark blue eyes accompanying them made them all the more alluring; like they caged a ton of unsaid thoughts behind them, like there was so much those eyes wanted to tell but they had to get through the barrier of the glasses first. 

a transparent mask to hide behind.

“sooo, how’s the coffee?” you asked to fill the silence when your eyes met again, looking away just as quickly, because you hadn’t expected that his sharp pupils found you the same way your eyes found his. stupid question, to be honest, when the coffee machine whirred in answer, and there was a slight smile playing on his lips.

“i don’t know yet,” he held up his opened thermos cup to show you the lack of liquid that he could not judge on yet, and your cheeks flared up at the obvious demonstration, mumbling quietly to yourself, thinking that the coffee machine was too loud for him to understand: “sorry, that was…an incredibly stupid question.”

“you’re okay,” his quiet and steady voice came back to meet your ears, held back amusement lingering in the folds of his tenor. he heard you just fine, “though probably just like bitter water.”

leaning back against the wall, he joined you in waiting, and then there was comfortable silence between you both. he was close enough to feel the air warm up, close that if you glanced up again, you could see his lashes brush his cheek as he closed his eyes for a quick reprieve, the curls of his hair, messy and falling over his ears, his lips sitting together calmly, sometimes twisting when he chewed on the inside of his cheek.

you looked away again, to the coffee machine that went from grinding the coffee beans to finally pouring the hot water through it and dripping into the pot. you thought you recognised him from somewhere, this boy with the gentle, kind eyes and the charming glasses. you couldn’t help but steal another glance at him, trying to gauge where from, whether you had met him on campus before.

“i can feel you staring.”

whirling your head away from his still closed eyes and the fingers messing with his hair, you felt embarrassment brewing within your chest alongside the coffee in front of you. stupid, stupid.

“sorry.”

“don’t be. i don’t mind,” he said, still the same reserved amusement hiding behind his words, and then he did open his eyes to turn to you, and you returned the favour of looking over him again. your gazes met for a split second, dead-on, before they parted again to look at other features, “you’re in professor yoshida’s class, right?”

“right! that’s where  i know you from,” recognition finally bloomed, and you tested out the name that was continuously popping up in your mind during the short wait, wondering whether it was him, “akaashi keiji, right? you looked familiar.”

akaashi opened his mouth to respond, but halted for a split second; his cheeks and ears using this one moment to turn into a soft pink. when he caught himself and talked, you had an inkling that he meant to say something completely different: “yeah, exactly. what are you working on?”

“cultural studies. incredibly boring.”

“japanese lit,” he nodded in sympathy, then moved to pour coffee into both of your cups. you wanted to thank him, take the cup yourself and move, but he beat you to it. reflexes sharp and swift movement, he maneuvered around you easily to carry both of your coffee mugs back to the table you both shared. 

“thank you,” you said at last, seated away from him at your own laptop with the steaming cup warming your hands, the same old words on the screen staring back at you, and he responded in likes; his voice comfortable and easy, deep and as warm as the drink in your hand, “of course.”

both of you continued working, though amongst the clicking of keyboard keys and the silent breathing were the little glances both of you threw at the other now that there was some common ground found. when you got stuck with how to phrase a certain sentence, chin supported on your hand, your eyes wandered to him out of their own volition and instinctually, and you watched him focus on his work. 

the way his teeth would not stay still, constantly picking on his lips, his fingers rubbing his chin when he thought; the light warming up his face and making it seem like his hair was draped over him like a dark curtain. 

then you’d attend to your work again, and it was akaashi’s turn to let his eyes and mind wander over to you to watch you get stuck with another paragraph, biting your nail while the other hand was tapping on the keys lightly without pressing too hard, eyes intently focused on the words. 

you had an intense look in your eyes, and everytime, there were little butterflies erupting behind his ribcage when he felt you dedicate it to him.

those moments in between, when both of your eyes passed the others, belonged to nobody but the empty library. moments, in which you allowed yourselves to bask in the heat of fading instances, of arcane glances, interrupted by little sighs here and there or random occurrences, in which you both just couldn’t help but talk to each other:

“i’m jealous of your concentration,” you groaned at some point, allowing your forehead to thump onto your arm to bury your face away from the screen and its cruel, glaring light, “you look like you’re about to solve all the problems in this world.”

akaashi had stilled in his work, startled, eyes glancing up over the rim of his glasses up to you, and his teeth finally let go of his poor, swollen lower lip; mouth curling into a small embarrassed smile, “not quite. but i may be able to help you with yours, if that’s a start.”

you laughed at yourself for the strange thump your heart produced, hand waving him off, “sweet of you, but i just need some of that laser focus you’ve got.”

“sending you some.”

pretending to catch the energy he threw your way, you perked up in your seat and flashed him a grin, “you’re a lifesaver.”

“oh fu— shit.”

he was already beside you with napkins, big hands dabbing up the spilled lukewarm coffee as you worked to put away your electronics and books lest they’d get ruined by the deep brown liquid. he was close, leaning over you, hands working fast and precise, feeling his chest bump against your shoulders ever so slightly. your body warmed up at the contact, and you had to try not to lose your mind over that.

“ugh, i swear this is not my usual.”

“i’ll believe you when i see you prove the opposite to me,” he said quietly, a certain openness in his voice, a silent offer to spend many more moments together like this. 

you looked up at him, a smile stealing itself on your lips, “i suppose if you’re asking to be humiliated and be proven wrong, then i won’t say no.”

the skin underneath akaashi’s glasses had warmed up, and as he went back to his seat, he had stuttered back, “that’s— i didn’t— nobody said anything about humiliation! also, you’re the one who barely escaped electronic and academic death. gotta tone down the murderous intent a little.”

“never. every essay is my arch-nemesis, so they got what was coming for them.”

akaashi had shook his head, and laughed quietly to himself; the sound as honeyed as your favourite dessert. 

when he returned from his bathroom break later on, he brought you back a new cup of coffee, anyway, despite his fear of you murdering your hard effort of having added only three extra paragraphs to your text in all the time (you were a little busy staring at akaashi keiji’s pretty eyes; nobody was allowed to judge your slow pace).

you fell back with a big oohmpf and a yelp. 

dazed, you looked up at the ceiling, the low warm light of the library in the midst of the dark outside looking enticing enough to fall asleep right there. you stayed on the ground for a second, most of your fall cushioned by the chair, though your butt still throbbed with the impact. 

“hey,” a couple steps resonated before a messy head of curls peeked over you, one hand holding the glasses in place, while the other was reaching towards you to help you up, “you alright?”

“y-yeah,” you sat up, shaking your head a bit to clear it from the zoning out you were doing before gravity decided to take you down, “i suppose that’s why teachers always say not to rock your chair back and forth.”

suppressed laughter, mild concern, and a warm hand engulfing you, “what a delinquent. i bet the teachers loved you.”

“hey! what’s that supposed to mean? they loved me! incredibly so!”

“okay. i think i need help.”

“of course, what do you need?”

“do you understand what i’m trying to convey when i phrase it like that? ugh, i’m scared it’s too convoluted.”

“give me a second,” he finished up his sentence, then came over, “let me see.”

his chest pressed against the back of your (now upright) chair as he leaned over you to read your run-on sentence was distracting you. he wasn’t touching you per se, but the placement of his hands on the arms of the chair could cage you in, make you feel like he was embracing you from behind, so much taller than you. the warmth emitting from behind you made you want to fall asleep and let your head land in the crook of his neck.

he was breathing softly, the air caressing your hair, and when he reached out to point at your words, your eyes followed the red knuckles, his clean nails and the size of his hands. 

“you mean that the west created orientalism as a cultural and intellectual framework, right?” — a quick nod of yours — “alright, then i think if you cut this in two sentences, for one to showcase the interpretation of the east and then dive deeper into the colonisation in the next sentence — that would make it more understandable. say, am i making you nervous?”

blinking, “w—what? where did that come from?”

he leaned down slightly, face hovering next to yours, his voice slightly raw and close to your earshell, “don’t forget to breathe. also, you have a typo — row three, the fourteenth word.”

“evil,” your breathing was clipped from the insinuation that he may have had an effect on you, heart pumping blood through your body like crazy as if it was held at gunpoint, “i bet the teachers really disliked you.”

despite that, you brought him a cup of coffee when you returned from your bathroom break, too.

“you alright, akaashi?” you asked.

akaashi keiji looked up, his hand rubbing his neck, kneading the knots out of his tense shoulders. his eyes, until just short of when you called him, had been glazing over, a little bit of a vacant look entering the blue of his eyes, but when you called his name, he had snapped out of it, and his features relaxed slightly, away from his troublesome thoughts. his dark brows furrowed deeply above his eyes.

“yeah, just thinking about all the deadlines coming up. it’s…” he sighed, allowing his shoulders to sink, and he leaned back in the uncomfortable library chairs; another big sigh escaping him, “...a lot.”

“yeah,” you agreed and stood up, walking over to him. his surprised gaze followed you, and when you stood right next to him with his head tilted back, the wavy strands of hair following gravity, looking up at you with those eyes, you felt a tug in your chest that told you to kiss him. you didn’t. 

instead, you nodded to the window, “let’s take a walk and a breather,” and then, because you couldn’t help yourself, “a zeugma. get it, mr. japanese literature?”

his shoulders stayed relaxed, and he laughed again; a brilliant smile on his lips and you thought of how you wanted to kiss him even more. his eyes felt lighter, too, when he pushed back his chair and stood up, body entirely too close for what probably should have been appropriate for two students who had only properly met today for the first time. or was it already the next day?

but neither of you moved for a second, drinking in the presence of each other, before he grabbed his jacket off his backrest, “i think you can do better.”

“well, i think it was pretty good.”

akaashi shrugged, a teasing glint in his eyes, competing with the sparkle of the glasses when he turned and the light hit him just right, “and i think i have you beat there.”

you grumbled but caught up to him nonetheless.

it was cold outside. 

the kind that slithered through between the folds of your clothing to nestle deep in the crevices of your soul. the kind that had you shuddering and sending remnants of cannons into the air with every breath, the moisture immediately misting up. 

akaashi keiji was walking next to you, his hands stuffed deep in his pockets, though his exhales were shaky too, chest trembling with compressed and suppressed shivers. you were already as close to him for warmth as possible without being weird or too straight-forward, though you wish you could just cling to his arm — it was that icy.

“i feel like i can’t even think,” you mumbled, already feeling your lips starting to numb, the tip of your nose burning. 

“me neither, but maybe that’s a good thing,” he breathed out, the warm air blowing past your temple, and his cheeks were so pink, it was cute, “sometimes it’s all too stressful, and i wish i could turn off my brain.”

“does that happen a lot?” 

you referred to the way his face looked like there was a headache incoming, how his fingers froze and his shoulders locked in; the way he seemed to absolutely crumble under the prospect of the things he needed to do and that awaited him. 

akaashi had an embarrassed smile on his face, shoulders drawn up for some warmth, the fuzziness of his jacket’s hood surrounding his reddening cheeks, “sometimes. there’s a lot of expectations riding on passing my classes. not just passing them, but passing them well.”

“by whom?” you leaned forward; curious eyes trying to catch his, “expectations set by the profs or by yourself?”

he stared at you, and his lips were slightly open; with every exhale, condensation snaked up the air like smoke, dissolving in the cold atmosphere all around you, though the air between you was slightly warm. his eyes looked kind and vulnerable for a second, “what a callout. guess i can’t even pretend that it’s not me, huh? you caught me.”

“not yet, i didn’t,” you dared say, and he stopped walking, even though it was colder to stay still than to move. you stopped, too. a snowflake floated between you, landing on his pink nose, melting at the warmth. 

the entire evening long — ever since you had bumped into him making coffee and you both went from studying alone to studying together, little jokes and jibes passing between you, curiosity and interest swapping between you with every glance, solitary and shared, you felt there was maybe a chance for something more. not necessarily all the way if it didn’t work out, but more to explore, more of him and you to meet.

“what does that mean, miss cultural studies?”

you blinked up at him, “i don’t know, mr. japanese literature. you’re the one who reads between the lines of books and analyses everything.”

“i’m not that far into my course,” he told you, seriously, and for a second you almost believed him, but then his eyes crinkled as he hid his smile behind the fluff of his jacket, and you pulled out one of your hands from the pockets of your coat to lightly pull his ear, not enough to cause pain but enough to chide him.

“you liar,” you said with no malice, voice soft and as your hand trailed down to hide your fingers in warmth again, his hand, fast as ever, pulled out of his own jacket, grabbed yours and stuffed both your hands in his pocket instead. 

incredibly warm, fingers locked between each other, soft skin kissing yours, “let’s go, it’s too cold.”

sometime around 2 am in the morning, you decided that you were going to fall asleep right then and there. sadly, coffee barely had an effect on your body anymore after having put your body through caffeine abuse for so long. 

during the hours of studying together, one of you moved closer to the other, so both of your books and notes were strewn together, sharing a space. his thermos cup stood next to a bunch of other cups both of you had drunk out of, because you kept forgetting to take the mug you were using with you and were forced to bring new ones. 

scrutinising a well-read book in the dim light, you ask, “is this mine?”

“unless you want to take home a copy of the setting sun with you and dissect the theme of youth in crisis, then i’m sorry to disappoint you.”

“ugh, i can’t even read anything anymore,” a beat of sly silence, “or you know, maybe i do want to. then i’ll have an excuse to see you again.”

“or,” akaashi butted in and gently offered you his phone, his smile straightforward yet a shy edge sweetening it up, “you can give me your number and we’ll meet up for another study session when you’re available. how’s that sound?”

in lieu of an answer, you saved your contact in his phone; your fingers caressing his under pretense of giving it back to him, and his movement was delayed, allowing the contact between you two to linger for a moment more.

“i’ll walk you back.”

“it’s not that far, so you don’t have to. it’s cold, too.”

akaashi sent you a look that very much told you he did not care how cold it was, there was no way he would let you walk alone at night. and when he did, your hands were buried in his pocket again. 

the world was quiet and still, as if you were caught up in another plane of existence for the past hours. a limbo of sleepy nature, perpetually falling snowflakes, the constant of the warmth akaashi offered, the bumping of arms as you walked in silence, subtly pulling him either to the left or the right when you needed to change the path.

“when is your assignment due?” you asked, lips barely moving from the cold, so you had to hiss out the words, barely understandable.

“four days ‘til friday. yours?”

“monday.”

another shaky exhale, the tremble evident in your shoulders, and you opted to walk a bit faster, even though you didn’t want to part with him yet. but cold was cold, and you would like to keep your toes still alive and kicking. so, it was no wonder that you arrived at your dormitory relatively fast, though even then, both of you stood in front of the entrance, not ready to say goodbye yet, not ready to leave the world of the dead and wake up the next day to greet the same usual bullshit. 

“meet me tomorrow,” he said with blue lips and red cheeks.

“okay,” you responded, heart fluttering when he didn’t let go of your hand. instead he took a step back and you were forced to follow, because you didn’t let go of his hand, either.

one step, another, a third one, then the tentative meeting of cold mouths. his breath was warm, his tongue warmer, and gradually your lips returned to their soft, mellow state. kissing him felt gentle, it felt safe and it felt like you could sink into him, like awaiting and catching you was a giant cloud that kept you floating up.

he kissed like he was a romantic. like he lived and breathed words meant for you, with the dedication and attention to detail only a writer or an artist could have, every stroke, every painted image on paper. he kissed like he had known you for a long time and intended to know you for even longer.

when you both parted, your lashes were brushing the rim of his glasses and your nose caressing his cheek, lips only inches away so it was only natural to kiss him again. 

“see you,” he let go of your hand at last.

later, an unknown number texted you, and you thought yourself corny, but you couldn’t help the smile that overtook your features at the cheesy line akaashi keiji thought he had you beat with:

from: +81 3 1762-3468 i left my other book and also my heart with you

and then:

from: +81 3 1762-3468 i really do need the book though, bring it tomorrow please :( goodnight x

[nnnnnnnothingtoseehere]

Seonghwa gets up from the window seat when he hears the bedroom door open. The kettle still has some water in it, so he only has to press a few buttons to get it reheating while he pulls Jongho’s special mug out of the cabinet. 

Little footsteps pad their way down the hall, steadily coming closer. 

Jongho is yawning when Seonghwa looks over, his hair a fluffy cloud around his face. His cheeks are still flushed from sleep, which means he just looks extra adorable. 

“Good morning little bear,” Seonghwa murmurs with a smile. “Would you like some honey in your tea?” 

Jongho doesn’t acknowledge the question immediately, choosing instead to cross the kitchen and press himself against Seonghwa’s side. It’s less of a hug and more of a lean, but it’s still more affection than he normally shows in the mornings. 

Seonghwa’s smile widens, and he reaches down to run a hand through Jongho’s tangled bed-head. 

“Yes,” Jongho says after a while, his voice muffled by the fabric of Seonghwa’s pajamas. “And m’not little.” 

“Are you sure about that?” Seonghwa asks, reaching for the honey jar. 

Jongho nods firmly enough that Seonghwa can feel it without looking down. 

“Hmm well I can’t say I agree,” he says. “You’ll always be my little bear, even if you get bigger than me.” 

Jongho lifts his head at that, squinting up at Seonghwa. 

“Will I be bigger than you?” he asks

“It’s very likely,” Seonghwa tells him. “Your appa is bigger than me.” 

“Was Eomma bigger than you?” Jongho is looking much more awake now. 

“Yup,” Seonghwa replies. “She was stronger than both me and your appa.” 

Jongho doesn’t immediately reply to that, a thoughtful look on his round little face when Seonghwa looks down again. He accepts the tea when it’s finished, holding it with two hands for the brief journey to the kitchen table. He sips on it slowly while Seonghwa pulls together a few quick things for breakfast. 

They’re halfway through eating when Jongho speaks again. 

“Seonghwa hyung, I want to be as big and strong as Eomma and Appa,” he says with a serious expression. “So I can pick you and Appa up and cuddle better.” 

Seonghwa does an admirable job of not melting into a puddle on the floor. 

“I think that’s a very good goal,” he says with a smile. “I’m sure you’ll get there in no time.” 

Jongho’s thoughtful look only lasts a few more bites of his breakfast. He’s soon asking Seonghwa if they’re going to do anything today, because if not he wants to go to the zoo and visit the bears. (Nevermind they saw the bears yesterday.) 

[atoriv-art]

older designs for my specialest guy

[sysig]

Two skeletons in a trench lab coat (Patreon)

Bonus:

He’s very careful! Everything was fine before you interrupted!

[cryptcatz]

at least im my cat’s favorite person in the whole world, no matter what that will never change

[yangjeongin]

HYUNJIN | D'FESTA THE MOVIE

[olessan]

Re: TLovM episodes 3x07-3x09