#very shaken rn

[skipar00]

.

[wayfinderships]

The week has already started and I already wish it was over😔

[rowan-ashtree]

so. what the fuck just happened

[rosekasa]

following up from My Body Is Being Concerning, today i learned that i am in fact capable of experiencing a panic attack so severe that i faint

[victor-v]

i just came out as nb to a friend!!!!!!! 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

[literalite]

have u guys ever seen like someone elses oc/sim in public but thats a real other human person because its happening to me

[mxbitters]

you have to be a particular type of monster to be a proud boy wearing a fucking proud boys t shirt taking your young child to an amusement park

[wispeth]

(doppelganger Merlin au. Arthur is looking at two Merlin's, who both have all of Merlin's memories, except the imposter doesn't have magic. which is perfect, because the real Merlin lied so flawlessly to Arthur that imposter Merlin would have a real chance to take over Merlin's life. oh and, uh, Merlin was drugged w a truth serum. so he can't lie about the magic if it comes up. The imposter is able to pretend to be Merlin better than Merlin can bc ofc the magic comes up.)

Arthur: What's the first thing you ever said to me?

Imposter Merlin, confidently: Hey, that's enough. You've had your fun my friend.

Real Merlin, dazed, looking over at the imposter in horror as he realizes that the imposter has all of his memories, and that the imposter is actually capable of lying rn unlike himself, which means Real Merlin can't even keep up his own facade, but the imposter can: (says exactly the same thing in perfect unison with the imposter, but looks a lot more lost and shaken about it)

Arthur, narrowing his eyes at them both: What is your favorite tunic to dress me in?

Imposter Merlin: The red one. (It was a fair enough assumption. It was the one that Merlin picked out for Arthur to wear more than any of the others.)

Real Merlin, unable to believe he's about to admit this, but he has truth potion in his system: Your nightshirt, when you decide to wear it... It is--you look the happiest, in that one. (gay sweatdrop)

Arthur, kind of floored by the vulnerability: (was honestly expecting Merlin to say the red one, but now he wasn't so sure because that also sounded like something girlish that Melrin might say) Alright... How many times have you saved my life?

Imposter Merlin, gleeful on the inside because he finally has a chance to play Merlin's part while Merlin can't even maintain his own web of lies because of the truth potion: (to this imposter's credit, he is very good at pretending to be merlin. he starts mumbling to himself and counting on his fingers, just as Arthur thought Merlin might have done.) Let's see, there was the dagger, the poison, the... (proceededs to ramble off most every single one that Arthur himself is aware of) ... so that's about, a dozen? I'd say?

also Imposter Merlin: (places his hands on his hips in Merlin's sassy way) I'm starting to think you owe me a day off.

Real Merlin, voice shaky, because they are getting nearer and nearer to the topic of magic: Twice a fortnite for as long as I've lived in Camelot... That's got to be in the hundreds by now.

Arthur, suddenly remembering all the creatures of the week that suddenly disappeared before they became a problem. He knew of about one every month or two, but he started reconsidering if his guardian angel had been taking care of threats that he perhaps DIDN'T know about: Erm... (still can't tell who the real Merlin is, because one of them is giving all the answers he's looking for and is acting exactly like he would expect Merlin to, but the other Merlin is being so damn earnest right now, as Merlin was wont to do in times of crisis) What is--what's an honest truth that you've told me that I have mistaken for a lie?

Imposter Merlin, knowing that he's being quizzed on the memories of their shared history, without missing a beat: Valiant's shield. It was enchanted with those snakes. You got into a world of trouble for confronting him about it in front of the entire court. (aka exactly the answer that Arthur was expecting from the real Merlin)

Real Merlin, with a knot in his throat and tears in his eyes because he knows he's doomed: (the first instance that came to mind was that time he saved Gwen's father from sickness using magic and Gwen got thrown in the dungeons for being an alleged sorceress--and of course that was his first thought, he is very very paranoid about the magic so it's all he's thinking about--he has to say the first one for the sake thought for the sake of honesty, even though it's damning) Gwen's not the s-sorcerer... I am. (is also making exactly the same face that he was making the day that he told Arthur about Valiant's shield, the face where he is pleading for Arthur to believe him. The imposter only has access to Merlin's memories through Merlin's eyes, so the imposter wasn't able to see what Merlin's face did that day, so he wouldn't have known)

Arthur, now even more unsure, just gapes for a moment because how fucking stupid does someone have to be to confess to sorcery in Camelot? Twice?! And it was worse yet that he still couldn't tell for sure which Merlin was the real Merlin because he'd never had to combine the image of Merlin with magic before and gods damn it all he needed a moment to process: (decided to start asking Merlin questions about himself instead of quizzing him on information that Arthur already knows) Who was your first love? (fully expecting to hear Gwen's name, although, Merlin was quite flamboyant....)

Imposter Merlin: It was Will... (blushes a little, looking flustered and matter of factly at the same time, in that awkward way that mimics merlin perfectly) You met him, in Ealdor.

Real Merlin, sneering at the imposter in the way that he did Cedric when he was bitter about replaced by a possessed man in the Cornelius Sigan incident (a/n: even though the episode I mention in this line is a totally different one. I think I mix referenced a lot of episodes in this ramble actually): H-her name was Freya. You killed her.

Arthur, alarmed: Killed her? Wh--Merlin--not Merlin--Merlin? (stammers on how to address this Merlin, tosses his hands up after 0.5 seconds) I do not recall killing any village girls in Ealdor..!

Real Merlin, shaking his head: She was the bastet. It wasn't her fault, she was cursed by a sorceress to become a bastet at night. It wasn't your fault either, you did what you had to; I don't blame you for what happened.

Arthur, suddenly remembering that night, remembering how Merlin was reaching for the dangerous feline beast as if it were only a kitten, as if Merlin was going to pet it, or shield it from Arthur, or any other number of things that also seem so very Merlin. Arthur hadn't even considered it before, but now? Looking back? Merlin certainly had been remarkably upset in the passing days after that: (more confused than ever) Wh... Where did -- where were you, yesterday? (Gaius already told Arthur that Merlin was at the tavern)

Imposter Merlin: At the Rising Sun. Gwaine took me out for a round of drinks. Something about a lucky charm?

Arthur, nodding along: (it was true that Arthur has heard Lancelot and a few other knights call Merlin a lucky charm) Hm... (turns to look at the other Merlin)

Real Merlin, with a wobbling lip: (laughs weakly, rolling his teary eyes a bit) I told him to stop using that excuse... (refocuses) I was crawling out of the mirror, if you must know. I TOLD you I had a funny feeling about it. (motions to the imposter) (he has tears in his eyes and a smile on his face, and his voice sounds exactly the same as it did that one time when he said to Arthur 'you're certainly not' after Arthur told him that no man was worth his tears)

Arthur, now watching Real Merlin more closely than Imposter Merlin, searching: Who was your favorite guest to mock at the feasts and whatnot?

Imposter Merlin: (kind of stumped bc he wasn't expecting a question like this)

Real Merlin, who is actually able to answer first after some thought: ..... (snorts) Does-- (snorts again) Would the Lady Catrina count as a guest, d'you think? Or should I--no--I'll say it was the Lady Vivian. You get this, LOOK on your face every time she sits near you at the banquet table when she comes 'round.

Arthur, jaw dropped in mock offense: Because she is rather touchy! We've been over this..! (doesn't even realized that he just responded to Real Merlin as if he were for sure the real Merlin, and momentarily forgot that there were two convincing Merlins present)

Imposter Merlin: Are you mad? Arthur, the fake me said it himself that he crawled out of the mirror and practices sorcerery..! (looks so earnest, so genuine, but it's just... not quite how Merlin would say it)

Arthur: (narrows his eyes at the imposter with slight suspicion)

Imposter Merlin: (gives Arthur a flat look, exactly like the real Merlin would do when Arthur says something stupid) Arthur, I am not a sorcerer. You would know. (a/n: last episode style)

Arthur, who had never once suspected magic, but did always know that Merlin had been keeping a secret from him (he'd always assumed it was the alcoholism, but now....): You'd think so, wouldn't you.... (glances at the real Merlin, looking a little hurt)

Real Merlin, not denying the magic at all: I was born with it. I use it for you, Arthur.

Imposter Merlin: You can't honestly--

Arthur, looking deep into Real Merlin's eyes: Swear to me, right now, that you are telling me the truth. Prove it to me.

Real Merlin: (grabs the hidden dagger out of the imposters hands, who had apparently been gearing up to attack Arthur, which is confusing enough all on its own because it made it difficult to tell which one of them was truly intent on attacking Arthur with it, and then charges Arthur)

Arthur, who normally has keen warrior reflexes but not when his enemies wear Merlin's face: (freezes up, and then watches in shock as the dagger clashes against the thin air about an inch in front of Arthur's chest, cast aside by some glowing shield that fades after a second)

Real Merlin: Why do you think it takes me three hours to polish your armor? Do you have any idea how long it takes to enchant the space between every link of chainmail? (drops the dagger at Arthur's feet so he knows it was just a demonstration and not a genuine attack, similar to the way that Arthur always aims just to the left of Merlin when he's throwing blunt objects such as goblets because he never wishes any actual harm on Merlin)

Arthur, blinking dazedly: (can't help but think of that one time that Merlin spontaneously became talented at juggling. it's such a strange thing to remember, and completely unrelated to the current happenings, but Merlin's smile was small and smug just like it had been that day, and it just--clicked)

also Arthur, looking slightly more sure of himself now: (needs one final test to make absolutely certain, but he thinks he knows just what to ask) What would you have me do, if I cannot tell you apart?

Real Merlin, without missing a beat: Arrest us both. (shrugs casually) I am a sorcerer after all. Better safe than sorry.

(And that's just it, isn't it. It was just like Merlin, to sacrifice himself like that. It was just so, unmistakenly Merlin.)

Arthur, smirking in mock offense: Better safe than--excuse you, I could take you apart with one blow!

Merlin *cough*hearteyes*cough* "Emrys" Hunithson™, the one and only: I could take you apart with less than that

(In the end, Merlin walks himself to the dungeons as the imposter is arrested, just to give Arthur peace of mind so there's no pressure to second guess his decision since even if Arthur chose wrong, there is no assassin Merlin imposter on the loose. Merlin and the imposter both spend 3 days in their respective cells before the imposter finally does some decidedly out of character shit and Arthur can have him executed with full confidence that it's not Merlin... since the guy really was very good at mimicking Merlin. Arthur didn't even realize that he'd needed it at the time, but looking back, he probably would have had a panic attack as the imposter was marched to be hanged. He probably would have doubted himself at the last second and wondered if he really did believe the right Merlin those few days ago. But thankfully, Merlin thinks ahead sometimes and is actually quite thoughtful and wise on these such rare occasions.)

[2kiran]

Hi‼️ lurker here‼️ just wanna say that your works are awesome‼️‼️ and that your dash always looks so cool and pretty every time I come around to check up on you‼️ your works are so good and you’re such a talented writer‼️

also… can I…can I ask for a tired reader being surrounded by a very demanding and needy 141? Like I’m not all that creative like the other anons but like I just really like the reader satisfying the 141s in any way his tired form can‼️ whether it’s by letting them ride his dick until they’re satisfied or having them being cock warmed as reader falls asleep‼️

sorry for this‼️ just thoughts and brain worms are weird rn and I thought that you would carry these out well… back to lurking now‼️

p.s. the ‼️ are just here to show excitement not to be scary or anything I’m sorry

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: bottom 141, top male reader, consensual somnophilia, cowgirl position, cockwarming, fingering, dividers

The weight of the missions and daily tasks being distributed made your limbs slack, eyes droopy, body boneless and desperate to pass out for even a week. You’re dozing off the second you sit down or rest against a wall, jerking awake when shaken by your mate. It isn’t your fault that you’re hardworking when needed, and everything was becoming a necessity to put your full attention on.

You need a break.

On the other hand, your team doesn’t seem to agree.

They’re clingy, more than usual. When you’re in a room with them, it seems as though their presence is the only thing that matters. Unabashedly acting like animals in heat, they’d sometimes even gently rut against your thigh.

Their excuse? You’ve been neglecting them, rarely glancing or facing towards their direction. Sometimes, you’d fail to acknowledge them in passing which evidently piles up their frustration and need to turn the source into the outlet.

And you’ll let them. They know you will.

Soap is the first one to snap. The man’s too needy for his own good. He can’t stop thinking about you, your hands wandering along his body, allowing him to take a sniff of pleasure before you’re shoving him away. But now? Now you’re doing it unintentionally.

He’s concerned, knowing damn well that he shouldn’t bother you. And yet, he can’t keep it within his pants. You’ll be good for him, right?

“Shit, tha’s it, love...” Soap groans, face contorting with blissful relief. He rolls his hips, desperate to feel every inch of your cock - the one that had him dreaming about it, waking up with his boxers damp, and hole twitching from being so empty - “Y’can get some shut-eye, ‘s alrigh’.”

You’re hanging onto your consciousness by a mere thread, the promise of slumber darkening the edges of your view while simultaneously heightening the sensation of slick, twitching warmth wrapped around your length. Small moans left him, thick brows knitted together in concentration.

Soap cannot remain still for the life of him. He sinks further down, enveloping you in his tight heat and squeezes you with it. His jaw hung open, mouth agape, and his thighs are quivering in a poor attempt not to fuck back against your cock with his desperate hole.

-

The second is Price. He may be a responsible and patient captain, but he’s still a man with lustful requirements. He needs to let off stream, you know?

“Hhang... that’s a good man.” He ruts his hips against yours, the plushy thickness of his scarred thighs rippling with each bounce. If you’re comfortable with it, he’ll take a drag from his cigarette, letting the smoke slip through his teeth as a breathy moan rasps from his throat.

God, he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to the feel of you. Your tip meeting the spot that has him high with squelchy smacks, the scratchy stubble spread on his chin making the firm muscle of your shoulder raw whenever he angled himself forward to make you pound into him deeper.

Such a good soldier, you are. “Stay still, m‘fuckin’ close.” He huffs. Your cock twitches in response, and his lips curves in a self-satisfied grin. It has him riding you harder, rim taut, his pace fast and it makes the both of you dependent on chasing that point.

The Captain isn’t afraid to milk you for all you’re worth, either. It’s your own fault for making him needy. – “C’mon, you’ve got more in you, don’t you?”

-

Gaz is the next one. He heard your ‘interaction’ with the other men, smelled how Soap and Price practically reeked of well-deserved sex. It has arousal pool in his lower belly, dick twitching to life at the possibility of finally being satiated by you.

He’ll praise you for it; “Good boy, letting me use you like this.”, “Th-thank you, my love. Fuckin’ me so well.” and “Shh, I know. Go rest. I’ll just suck your pretty dick off, yeah?”

You think he’ll prep himself because you’re melting into the sheets to nap? No, you’re terribly wrong. He’d grip your wrist firmly, lubing your fingers up, and gently make them breach his tight hole. He gasps, immediately clenching from how intense it felt.

Gaz smiles fondly at how you seem to battle sleep, nodding mindlessly. When you do succumb to the urge, he’s biting his lip to contain his pathetic noises. You look so peaceful, and here he is fucking himself on your fingers. He’s holding onto your forearm, guiding you back and out. The murmurs of slick ringing through the room as he throws his head back.

“Fuckkk...” He’d mutter, fisting his own cock with rough jerks. Leaning down, he peppers kisses all across your jaw. He’s unbelievably turned on, rocking his hips to take in your digits completely. He’s getting desperate, but he will wait for you to wake up before he shoves your cock down his throat.

-

Ghost corners you. Sure, he’s got better self-control than the rest of the men. But hey, he’s still a human with very human needs.

Doesn’t matter if you’ve got a broader and hulking figure or a shorter stature, he’s guiding you with his frame until your knees hit the edge of a bed or a threadbare seat and your aching back is laying down. His mouth twitching in a mock snarl to have you submit. All with your consent, of course.

One of his favorite things to do to tease you? He loves to keep on asking you “This okay, luv?” and “Hmm? Y’want me to touch ya here?” until you’re begging him to finally fuck himself on your leaky dick that he’s been either playing with his roughened digits or warming with his inviting heat the entire time.

Rides you so slowly, hips rocking ever so slightly, and his soft walls pulse as they give way to your length. And it’s all to keep you awake, tightening up when you’re about to fall asleep on him. He wants you to be completely aware when he’s in the heights of arousal and he has you balls deep inside of him.

“Wake up, swee’art. Fuck– eyes on me, yeah, there we go.” / “Oh, you like tha’? Uh-huh? Good boy, you do.”

–

Or you have Price behind you, one of his arms slung around your waist as he thumbs at your slit until it’s coated in your pre. Soap’s tugging at your shaft, his fist enclosed and tight, consistent and oh so whiny like you’re inside of him. “Ye can fuck me harder, (rank), jus’ like this.”

Gaz on his knees, his tongue flicking at your sensitive veins. They’ll be toying with your cock as you lean back against the captain, letting sleep overtake you until you feel someone familiar climb into your lap. The other men supporting Ghost’s weight as he takes your dick in his skull-gloved hand, guiding the head to meet his rim and he sinks down with a low groan.

[strwbrychffoncke]

"lets ,you and me ,start over today ,be happy,, 2k+ words synopsis: you hope for a miracle on white day contains: lnds caleb x reader ,its white day! ,angst -> fluff ,kinda yearner!reader ,oblivious!reader ,jealousy (u think he likes someone else ,he thinks u like someone LOL) ,chef!caleb ,you're both kinda dumb tbh ,reader cries ,caleb comforts you ,slightly possessive!caleb ,confession ,kiss scene ,later a misunderstanding is fixed ,fluffy end ,i think thats it note: (unedited!) wow didn't mean to not write for so long OOPS.... i found this concept in my notes and decided to cook it up today and slowly get back into the writing groove cause i missed it...... ill edit this later too lazy to do it rn :x

-

you're not really sure what triggered it.

maybe it was the excited giggles of girls passing you through the halls as they chatted with their friends about who had left them chocolates on this special day. maybe it was the shocked expression on your close friends' faces, pleasantly surprised at having received chocolates of their own, yet trying to brush it off as no big deal realizing you had yet to receive any.

or maybe it was the fact that you'd caught caleb up in the kitchen later than usual, the sweet smell of your favorite chocolates wafting through the space and towards your nose.

you'd watched him meticulously measure out the proper ingredients, noticing he was trying his best to stay quiet (seeming to recognize both you and gran were asleep, or so he thought) while quietly humming to himself, carefully stirring and monitoring the sweets as they developed. a pleased smile graced his features when he delicately poured the fresh liquid into cute molds you couldn't make out (but realized with a sinking heart had to be new, because you didn't recognize them) and watched as gathered a dallop of it on his finger to taste test.

having seen too much, you managed to rip yourself away from where you hid in the hallway, quietly retreating to your room, and burying yourself into your covers.

you didn't want it to be true. you didn't want to think about caleb working so carefully to make something for another girl, who just so happened to have your taste in sweets.

how bittersweet.

you heard his footsteps pass by your room, fighting the urge to burst open the door and corner him for answers, and instead listening to the soft pat pat of his socks against the wooden floor retreating just down further into his own bedroom.

tears slipped down your cheeks as you willed yourself to sleep, trying to think of anything to push away the image of caleb gifting the likely very-nicely wrapped chocolates to some mystery girl.

he never mentioned anyone. why would he keep this a secret from you?

wasn't he the one that said there shouldn't be any secrets between you both? that he was the first person you could speak to about anything, and vice versa?

you don't remember falling asleep, but are quickly shaken back to reality in the morning when you wake to your tear-stained cheeks.

and now you had arrived home, locking yourself in your rooms as you curled up and cried to yourself about the situation all over again.

of course he wouldn't think of you like that, he couldn't possibly, you knew this and thought you'd accepted it long ago—

so why was it that the tears wouldn't stop flowing?

you didn't even care that you didn't receive anything from anyone else (even caleb piped up the question on your unnaturally quiet walk home, but you only shook your head. since your gaze was trained infront of you, you missed the relief that flooded his prior sharp eyes and the sigh that escaped his lips) because you only wanted something from one person.

the one person who you could never have.

you're not sure how long you were crying for, but accustomed to being left to yourself for awhile after school, you were startled at a sudden knock at your door.

you jumped, head perking up towards your door— you'd left it unlocked.

"pipsqueak?"

you cursed to yourself.

of all times.

you frantically wiped at your wet cheeks, taking quick deep breaths to try to ensure your voice wouldn't come out shaky.

at another knock, you found it in yourself to answer.

"y-yeah?"

dammit.

with any luck, caleb wouldn't notice the shake in your voice.

"hey, are you alright?"

you cursed his perceptiveness.

"yeah, what's up?"

you hoped that sounded more convincing.

a beat of silence passes between you both, and you want to speak up again to ask what he needs when he beats you to it.

"i'm coming in."

"wait—!"

your panicked cry is ignored as caleb bursts through the door, eyes quickly locking onto you.

in seconds, he closes the distance, kneeling before you and gently gripping your shoulders.

"hey, hey, were you crying?"

"...no—"

"don't lie to me."

"don't ask stupid questions!"

you huff in mild frustration, rubbing at your eyes to try to keep any more tears from falling in his presence.

at your action, he reaches up to pry your hands away from your face, holding them gently in his own warm ones. his thumbs start caressing the backs of your palms as he looks into your eyes.

"what's wrong?"

you quickly shift your gaze away from his.

"nothing—"

"it's not nothing. come on, you can tell me anything."

you take a deep shaky breath.

"did something happen today?"

shouldn't you be the one asking him that?

he tilted his head, trying to meet your eyes.

"is it because you didn't get anything?"

"no, caleb—"

"then what?"

the soothing movements of his thumbs on your hands stop for a moment.

"did someone say something to you?"

you sniffle, shaking your head.

"did someone—"

"no one did anything, caleb, that's the problem!"

his eyes widen slightly, and his thumbs resume the soothing motion again at your sudden outburst.

"what do you—"

"i just—! i just hoped...."

a fresh batch of tears well up in your eyes, and you try your best not to let them fall.

"hoped for what?" his voice is quieter, almost a whisper.

"hoped for the impossible."

your gaze is on your lap, looking at the size of caleb's hands compared to yours.

he's close, so close, and yet...

you sniffle as a couple of tears fall, dropping to where your hands are connected.

"the person i like.... made chocolates for someone else."

caleb feels his heart stop.

is that what this is about?

while a large part of him wants to shake you for the name of this person so he can beat them to the ground for making you cry, the deeper twisted part of him is relieved that you haven't been taken from him.

he couldn't allow that.

"pipsqueak..."

"am i... not enough?"

he feels his heart shatter at the sound of a broken sob escaping your lips after these words, and his hands fly to cup your face, bringing you closer to him.

"of course you're enough, don't ever question your worth because of someone else. they're just too stupid to not see that, so its better not to think about them, alright?"

your eyes widen in surprise at the intense look in his eyes mixed with his honest answer, and you both feel comforted and a little more heartbroken hearing this come from the one this is about in the first place.

he swipes your tears away with his thumbs, one hand moving to pat your head. his eyes soften, a fond looking taking over them.

"one day, someone who's worthy of your love, who knows everything about you and cares about you more than anything in the world will sweep you off your feet. trust me."

the way he says these words with such certainty in a calm and kind voice warms your heart.

"do you really think so?" you murmur.

"i know so," he answers.

you both stare into each other's eyes for a long moment after that, exchanging a million words in just one look.

maybe its because of what day it is, maybe its because he's so close, or maybe its because the person he described reminds you so much of him, but for whatever reason, you find yourself leaning forward.

there's not a lot of distance between the two of you, and in a way you think 'maybe its now or never,' as you decide to close it, tilting your head and closing your eyes as your soft lips land onto his.

its brief and fleeting yet so much is exchanged in the few seconds you're merged together this way. caleb is shocked to his core, eyes wide and not having time to even process if this is real or not. when he feels you begin to pull away, the hand that's planted itself on top of your head slips behind and pushes you back, this time leaving you in shock as he properly melds his lips with yours.

you're the first to pull away again after a few long moments, close enough that your breaths mingle as you both catch your own, eyes locked onto each other.

one of his hands is still cradling your face, his other brushing some stray hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear, breath shaky as he follows the movement, eyes dragging over every detail of your visage.

his sunset eyes bore into yours as he speaks his next words, voice wavering.

"did you mean it, pipsqueak?"

you can only nod your head in his gentle hold as a response.

surprise crosses his eyes for a moment when his brows suddenly furrow slightly.

"what about... your crush?"

a small smile stretches across your lips.

"he's been by my side this entire time," your eyes drift away from his face as you nuzzle your cheek slightly into his palm.

"i couldn't help myself."

his heart feels like it could burst, his eyes practically glimmering, and a smile painting his lips.

at the sight of his lovesick expression locked onto you, you sniffle, turning your head towards the door.

"well, i think i'm gonna get a snack—"

you move to get up but are stopped by a hand wrapping around your wrist, quickly pulling you back.

you yelp in surprise, falling into caleb's arms as he cages you against him, embrace holding you close, nose nudging against your shoulder.

"should i take that as a confession?"

-

extra:

"wait."

you perk up, looking to where caleb is standing over the stove, the man in question already facing you.

its hours later, and you're sitting on a nearby stool, completely reassured from earlier's outburst, watching him cook dinner for you both.

"i'm still confused about one thing."

you tilt your head.

"ok?"

"you said the person you liked gave chocolate to someone else," he starts, stirring what's in the pan he's holding before tossing the food slightly in midair before briskly catching it all in the pan, body turned towards you.

showoff, you think, grinning and shaking your head slightly.

"buuut, i didn't give anything to anyone, pipsqueak."

your expression morphed into one of puzzlement.

"but... i saw you... making chocolates...."

caleb took a moment to process your words before small chuckles began escaping him.

he lowered the heat, placing the pan back down before facing you completely, his laughs growing louder at this point and of pure amusement.

"its not that funny," you pouted.

he took a moment to catch his breath before walking over to the fridge and pulling something out, shutting the door and approaching you.

"its just— pip, they're for you."

you tilted your head at him, looking down at the packaging wrapped prettily.

"earlier, i had originally gone to your room to coax you out and give you these, but then..."

you gasped.

"c-caleb—!"

"did you notice these were your favorites?"

"which is why i was that much more upset!"

a fond chuckle rumbled through his chest as he reached out with his free hand to pet your hair.

"so cute."

"i deserve them for the distress you caused me," you pouted, reaching out for them only for caleb to hang it higher above you, out of your reach.

"nuh-huh, i don't think so."

"caleeeeeb!"

"not before you've had your dinner," he reasons.

you slump back into your chair, sighing.

"okayyy."

"hm, good."

that night, after a fulfilling share of "caleb's famous cooking," you helped yourself to the love-filled chocolates made specially for you, caleb feeding them to you, his gaze full of only love for the one he's wanted for so long.

this was definitely a white day to remember.

-

a/n: heyyyyyy guess whos back..... prepare for me to spit out more fics cause im dying to after not writing for like a month (and for no particular reason) stay tuned.... side note the current zayne event game is so fun ugh

-

[birdiebirdjay]

percy weasley: fusses over ginny in CoS, notices that she'd been acting odd, runs to meet Ron (and Harry kind of) in the water after he was kidnapped for the trial in GoF

also percy weasley: is constantly belittled by everyone in his family for his passions and following his dreams, called pompous in narration, has a fight with his father who essentially calls him an idiot and a shame to the family when he had just gotten the job he'd been striving for for literal years (HE WAS ONLY 18 AT THE TIME!!!) and leaves afterwards

fandom: pERCY WEASLEY HATED HIS FAMILY AND NEVER CARED ABOUT THEM!!!!!!

percy weasley: is canonically nice to younger students who ask him questions, gets bloodied up at the world cup with his older brothers (it is implied they got injured while trying to find the twins and ginny/ keep them safe) has a secret girlfriend (wHO ACTUALLY TREATS HIM REALLY WELL AND LISTENS TO HIM UNLIKE MOST OF HIS FAMILY MEMBERS), meets up with said girlfriend to snog (and probably more kdsjfskj) while on patrol, writes letters to her all summer, makes bets with her about quidditch with money he doesn't have and screams and jumps up and down about winning, will rant to her about stuff, makes jokes with her, genuinely very shaken up when she's attacked, keeps a photo of her bc he loves her that much

also percy: is a prefect/actually does his job as prefect

fandom: PERCY IS A NERDY PRUDE WHO IS ASOCIAL, HATES SPORTS, AND DOES NOTHING BUT WORK

me, rereading the books: w-what

(disclaimer i was like this my first few times reading so uh yeah)

(also i dont have anything against the other weasleys, they're some of my favorite characters i'm just very emotional over percy rn, and i'm not saying percy was perfect [ooh boy he definitely had his faults, the letter in OotP was insane] i'm just saying that the story is pretty goddamn sad from his pov)

[007reid]

request for reader having dated spencer (early seasons) and then she finds out what happened w lila </3

hi hi hi!! sorry this took a while hun :( you were vague with your req so i just wrote whatever i wanted to write and because of that i meant for this to be a drabble but it didn't work out that way... enjoy!

secrets. spencer reid

part 1 | part 2

pairing: spencer reid x jealous fem!reader, 1.8k

summary: spencer will never be able to escape the effortless wrath of derek morgan, not even when it's the weekends and breaking bad is playing and you're pulling on his hair.

warnings: no smut you filthy animals, though i did intend there to be smut im just in a fluffy mood rn :// tiny angst if you squint, spencer's blushin a LOT, morgan's evil, bickering and just cutesy couple stuff. me when.

spencer’s secret was the last thing that you were, and you know this.

you and spencer have been dating for three months now, not including the two months talking stage because spencer is deadly afraid of commitment, and between all that time, you’d say you’ve gotten to know spencer pretty well. you know him well enough to trust that he knows what’s best, anyway. it’s been three months, and spencer hasn’t uttered a word about you to his team, his family, and you understand why.

really. you do.

“they’ll never let me live in down,” spencer had whined, one person imminent on his mind. derek fucking morgan. spencer dreads just thinking about it, the teasing, the inappropriate jokes, the winks and the whistles. it’s dehumanizing. “when someone ask me or mention something about it, i will tell them. until then…”

the unspoken reason was there. spencer’s a talker, definitely a talker, but he doesn’t spend much time talking about himself. he never reveals a bit of himself unless he’s directly asked it, and he feels uncomfortable sharing otherwise. the team’s too used to spencer being physically and emotionally repellent to the female race to really ask about stuff like you anymore, and spender’s not too eager to share neither. not out of the blue. it’s unlike him. this you understand. 100%. locked safely in the noggin.

you never think much about it anyway. it doesn’t bother you. what bothers you, though, is secrets.

you know spencer has loads of those, tucked behind that carefree and open-hearted smile and attitude of his. you examine him carefully, searching his face for ticks—okay, maybe you were just looking really creepily because he’s pretty and you try to commit every feature into memory but you are, searching for ticks that is.

you know he hides things. somethings not worth bringing up again because it’ll only bring up bad memories. some other things, however, definitely worth mentioning again. you just have to find the right target questions. sometimes it feels like you’re dating a stranger, with how little you know about spencer’s life. sometimes it feels like you’re dating the love of your life. it’s all very relative.

you and spencer are cuddled up on the couch, breaking bad playing on the tv. it’s one of the shows spencer doesn’t like pointing out the scientific inaccuracies of because he’s too fond of the main character to really say that he’s wrong, and sometimes you miss his voice chiming in between all the movie’s dialogues, but you think the reason why he’s quiet today is because he’s not in the mood to talk. the last case’s gotten him pretty shaken up, and he’s still healing, head in your neck every night and when he pulls away your skin is damp with tears.

“you okay spence?” you say, moving your hand to tangle your fingers in his hair. he hums softly, and then you both suddenly hear the vibration from under your asses. spencer shifts around, digging his phone out from where it’s lodged in a random cushion of the sofa.

he groans inwardly, showing you the screen, not having to explain. in big letters, the caller says: bau--derek morgan.

“he usually never calls me on weekends,” spencer frowns, watching the phone vibrate. “you think i should answer?”

“he’s a friend,” you say, tucking a stray strand of hair under his ear. “answer him.”

“okay,” spencer says hesitantly, then swipes the green button on his screen. he clears his throat as the call connects. “you’re on speaker,” he warns, looking at you anxiously and then back to his phone again. morgan’s a wildcard, and spencer would have to hide his face everyday for the next three weeks in front of you if morgan happens to drop something embarrassing about him just out of pocket. spencer isn’t ready.

“not like there’s anyone with you to hear,” morgan scoffs, and didn’t let spencer answer before continuing. “the team’s planning on a bar night tomorrow—“

“the team?” spencer questions, suspicious. morgan sighs loudly.

“garcia and i,” he corrects reluctantly, “are planning for a team bonding night tomorrow. what do you say?”

“no.” spencer says immediately, looking at you and hope you get his unspoken answer. spencer never goes out on weekends, not unless it’s with you. with his highly demanding schedule at the bau, it’s rare that he has any time off at all, and it’s hard to maintain a healthy relationship that way. any time he gets to spend time with you he’d take.

“come on,” morgan says, enthusiastically. “when was the last time you properly went out, huh?”

“last month, when you and garcia planned another of these team bonding bar nights,” spencer says monotonously. he rolls his eyes. “morgan—“

“don’t be rolling your eyes at me now, genius,” morgan warns. you stifle a laugh, and spencer sends you a wounded look. you forget that they’re basically family, like siblings to knows each other to a tee. “listen, have some fun in your life. who knows, maybe we can find you another lila at the bar.” morgan’s tone is suggestive. and now, that got your full, undivided attention.

and spencer, predictably, looks like a deer caught in the headlights, looking at you in horror was you narrow your eyes at his screen. you prod at his leg, prompting him to answer so morgan can elaborate.

lila?

“i don’t think—“ spencer starts, but got immediately cut off.

“don’t lie and say you didn’t like it, lover boy,” morgan whistles and spencer cringes. “now that we’re talking about lila, actually—“ spencer’s mind is screaming, shut up shut up shut up! as morgan proceeds to feed you more information, completely oblivious to his sins. “do you guys still keep in touch? she looked pretty into you. never knew you had it in you til then, man--”

by now spencer’s beet red head to ears to toe and you can feel the heat radiating off of him, but also off of yourself. you’d say you’re a jealous woman. not too jealous but definitely not not jealous.

“morgan,” spencer starts again, voice a little wobbly and embarrassed and morgan laughs.

“seriously though, do you guys still talk? them eyes never lie,” and morgan sounds so casual, so nonchalant while destroying spencer’s life.

it’s not that spencer doesn’t want you to know about lila. he couldn’t careless if lila waltz into his life right now because he knows they would be nothing more than friends—you’re all he’s ever wanted and he would trade you for nothing. it’s just embarrassing, is all, him being exposed like this, and he feels smaller, feels like he’s actually 5’3 with the glare you’re sending him.

“anyway, that don’t matter,” morgan remains completely ignorant and in his own world and still on speaker. oh morgan. “i want to see you at our bar tomorrow. it’s a yes, right? good. i’ll tell garcia you said yes.”

“morgan!” spencer says quickly. “i have a gir—“

morgan hangs up.

spencer dreads looking at you, so he takes his time getting out the app and then clears all of the background apps on his phone. he doesn’t like seeing you mad and he can basically sense it, the fumes blowing out your ears.

“who’s lila?” you say casually and he looks up. he doesn’t mistake your tone for friendliness, your eyes are narrow and suspicious.

“someone on a case a while ago,” spencer responds honestly. because that’s all there was to lila. it’s not like he’s never had his first kiss before her, so she doesn’t even count as his first kiss (she’s his second) and other than that minute-long moment they shared there was nothing else remarkable. she just happens to the only girl the team knows about who’s spencer been involved with and they are encouraging to help him find another ‘lila.’

it’s all very complicated. and humiliating. he should’ve definitely told you the entire backstory beforehand, because it’s not scandalous or weird or anything. it’s innocent and harmless. but now the problem seems to be blown out of proportion.

“just someone?” you press. spencer hesitates. he hates lying, especially when he’s lying to you. his hesitation gives you all the answer you needed.

“we kissed once,” he says, and gawks at you for approval, for forgiveness. “but that was it. i swear.”

something awful bubbles in your stomach. you know spencer’s not lying, and it’s not worth getting upset with him about because it’s all in the past—it’s not like you go talking about your precious conquests to spencer anyway. but you can’t help the envy and jealousy boiling so hotly it makes you dizzy.

spencer feels obliged to fill you in, to patch up the little bump and to get back the sweet atmosphere that was before morgan called. he knew morgan would somehow manage to ruin his life in some kind of way. he knew it before he even accepted his call.

“she was an actress in this case we were working on and she just, i think, really liked me or something and she was in a pool when i came to see her just to ask some questions and she just pulled me—“

his rant got interrupted by you seizing him to a rough kiss, hands coming up to rest behind the nape of his neck and nails unconsciously digging into his skin. spencer remains mostly unresponsive and soft, surprised and don't know how to respond. you keep prying, teeth digging into the soft of his bottom lip and spencer starts nipping at you back, gentle like he always is.

it frustrates you, how hard it is to be frustrated at spencer. you pull away from him and spencer tilts his head curiously, lip shiny and eyes looking at you like he's never seen you before and he just looks so sweet, so innocent and eager, like a precious pup. you roll your eyes, swatting at his chest, annoyance and jealousy and anger evaporating from you like a cloud.

spencer licks his lips and you collapse back into him again, returning to the position you were before morgan so unmindfully interrupted your weekend. breaking bad continues to play on the tv. long limbs wraps around you and spencer presses a kiss in your hair.

"i'm not going tomorrow," he declares.

"you should," you say nonchalantly. you cuddle up closer to him, turning around until the both of your are facing each other, wiggling your way on top. you begin to trace stars on the exposed skin of his shoulder. "and maybe you should bring someone with you. just to act as a guard for future lila's. maybe you can introduce that person too," you flick your hair behind your back and shrugs at spencer's amused smile. "it's just a thought."

"okay," he says quietly, eyes so soft. "okay. who do you suggest i bring?"

"that's for you to figure out, doctor reid," you say flippantly, turning back to the tv. "now shush."

[izzyfishie]

okay guys sgtwt is pissing me off so i’m coming here to rant instead because that place scares me 💔

THEYRE EXTERMINATING SANG-WOO STANS IM NOT JOKING. THERE IS A LITERAL BUNKER

so the people are fighting over sang-woo and gi-hun’s fight in season 1. some people are saying gi-hun was too mean (??) while others have said sang-woo was heartless in general, only looking out for himself and that he didnt care about gi-hun.

[screenshots of how it began attached]

after that, everything went to HELL

so i’m going to talk about this discourse and give my opinions here instead of twitter because i will get FLAMED.

here’s the questions we’re ultimately going to be diving into:

1) were sang-woo’s responses heartless or justified?

2) was gi-hun’s reaction and clap-back justified?

3) who was in the ‘right’?

everybody knows i love and cherish both of my babies intensely, but you know what ELSE i do? i understand and pay attention the flaws they have without letting it diminish my love for them.

why? ive said it once ill say it 400 more times. BECAUSE. THEY. ARE. HUMANS. IN A DESPERATE SITUATION. THAT. BRINGS. OUT. THE. WORST. IN. THEM.

we need to look at both sides of the coin here.

--

SANG-WOO

going back for a moment.

sang-woo was very visibly LOSING HIS MIND in general past episode 7. everything that happened fucked him up BAD, especially after ali’s death. we see him snap at player 069, (which i still believe was a subconscious manifestation of his inside feelings toward himself at the time fighting with the mindset of "i need to win the games" but that’s not on-topic rn) and later we do see the first time genuinely he kills a man.

(i find the lighting choice here, where he’s backlit by darkness, very fitting. he’s pretty much lost his mind atp)

but without him pushing the glassmaker, EVERYBODY would have died. gi-hun especially; he was at the very back of the line!

not to mention, sang-woo constantly repeats the “it was necessary” or, to gi-hun, “he was just somebody you knew for a few days” mantra, almost like he’s trying to justify his actions. (that’s called rationalization. a defense mechanism.)

i hope this is enough proof that, while yes, sang-woo had completely lost himself, he wasn’t just some heartless monster who felt no remorse.

--

GI-HUN

gi-hun, on the other hand, just VISIBLY witnessed his childhood best friend kill somebody. OF COURSE he’s going to be shocked and upset. we forget he’d never actually witnessed sang-woo kill ali, nor was he aware of sang-woo manipulating him — he likely just assumed ali lost the game in a fair fashion.

no wonder he questioned sang-woo; he wasn't expecting him to do that. he didn't find it necessary either, and from his perspective it looked like sang-woo had just killed him to get rid of him.

not to mention, that's still his childhood best friend! somebody he cares about a lot. it's very... off-putting to see people you love do bad things.

--

(one question i also see people contemplating on sgtwt is this: if the roles were somehow reversed, and gi-hun had pushed the glassmaker, how would sang-woo have responded? would he have been shocked, or would have have not cared? and would have have confronted him?

my simple answer to that is: i don’t think sang-woo would have confronted gi-hun at all, but i do think he would have definitely been shocked because of how gi-hun is as a person. it probably wouldn’t have affected him as much, but it would have likely shaken him up.)

—

now, about the actual confrontation.

(although translation is a large factor here, the words said pretty much boil down/summarize to this.)

gi-hun: “why did you kill him??”

sang-woo: "you got lucky at the back of the line, he was wasting our time, he would have killed us all"

gi-hun: "but he would have moved eventually, there was no need to push him"

sang-woo: "he watched ALL those people die and yet didnt do anything about it"

gi-hun: "he's the only reason we made it out"

sang-woo: "no. i made it out because i worked hard to make sure i stayed alive"

gi-hun: "stop making excuses. you killed him, his blood's on your hands."

sang-woo: "well it's almost like that's how this works"

gi-hun: “and if it were me on that tile, would you have pushed me?”

sang-woo completely ignores the question.

and then the boys started fightingggg 💔

sang-woo: “your life is so pathetic because you’re a nosy dim-witted moron, that’s how you got into this mess” (pretty much just throwing words around)

gi-hun: “well you’re in here with me, aren’t you? why is the pride and joy of ssangmun-dong who went to SNU in a shithole like this? hm?”

i find it interesting how gi-hun uses the very things he praised him for against him.

some people think sang-woo was mad because he shattered his ego. however, i think he was more affected by it because he knew gi-hun was right.

see, contrary to popular belief, sang-woo doesn’t think highly of himself. he gets visibly uncomfortable when people address him higher. [examples: his constant distaste of gi-hun ogling him , him constantly requesting ali to not refer to him as sir , telling mi-nyeo that he’s not the leader of their group and that they’re all equal.]

he’s not some egotistical bastard that thinks super highly of himself — he visibly LOATHES himself. it's implied in canon he’s had to put so much effort into (he’s an only child, and an INTELLIGENT CHILD in a poor household, so a lot of the responsibility surely fell on him growing up to make sure he could help their family get out of poverty) and now he’s fucked that up (i have another psychological theory on this but it’s off-topic and for another day)

so, do i think gi-hun's response was too harsh? no. i do, however, think he gave sang-woo a harsh reality check that likely fucked him up even more.

BUT. i do also want to just. bring up one thing; a major factor in the argument that people seem to be forgetting.

uh. it was an ARGUMENT.

some people don't always mean 100% of what they say when they fight; mainly because of the heat of the moment. (this is targeted more at sang-woo, considering he was literally just. throwing down insults like it was a playground schoolfight.) not to mention they were very obviously trying to strike a nerve to prove their points.

and im not saying this was some kind of freudian slip where they're revealing their unconscious beliefs on each other. i dont think they hate each other or some bs like the tweeters are saying, i just do think that tensions were heightened overall because they were trying so hard to prove their point that they started tearing the other down. etc. (however i do think gi-hun's rhetorical question was likely genuine: what is sang-woo the genius doing with him)

--

FINAL VERDICT

now to the final question. who was in the right?

..sorry for the anti-climacticness of this but uh. neither of them were in the right nor wrong. that's something a lot of people fail to understand. this was a fair argument. they both had fair points.

at this point sang-woo had lost his mind in the games, yet he still wasn't wrong: if he hadn't pushed the glassmaker, they likely all would have died, and killing is how the games work. morals are twisted in death games.

and gi-hun wasn't wrong either. obviously sang-woo shouldn't have killed the glassmaker, and he wasn't wrong about the fact that sang-woo fucked up bad to be in a place like this.

anyways. i hope ive fed you all. yes this is what ive been writing for the past something hours free me from sangihun jail i miss my shaylas 💔

[ducksido]

HII idk if you’re taking requests rn but like

i’d like to request for the overblot boys + rook and epel’s individual reactions after they all come back from styx and all the overblotting and almost dying and then adeuce comes up and hugs yuu and goes “WE WERE SO WORRIED ALSO HAPPY BELATED (?) BIRTHDAY” and yuu just sits down and cries because they spent their entire birthday at styx almost dying but they didn’t want to reveal that it was their birthday because of all that was going on and they were really happy that someone actually knew and remembered even if it were kinda late

hope you have a nice day 🩷

Context Recap: Everyone’s just gotten back from STYX. The whole school is rattled from the ordeals — overblots, danger, trauma, etc. Emotions are still high. Adeuce rushes in, hugs Yuu, and blurts:

“WE WERE SO WORRIED—ALSO HAPPY BELATED(?) BIRTHDAY!!” Yuu, overwhelmed, finally breaks down crying — because they had spent their entire birthday in STYX and never told anyone, not wanting to make a fuss during such a chaotic time. But someone remembered. Even if late.

Riddle Rosehearts

He freezes. He’s still trying to emotionally process his own actions, and now this? Yuu’s sobs feel like a gut punch. “Y-you didn’t tell anyone?” he whispers, horrified. Riddle feels guilty — as both a friend and a dorm leader. He immediately kneels down beside them, offering a handkerchief with trembling hands. “I promise… you’ll never spend a birthday alone again. Not here. Not at my school.” And yes, he’ll arrange a proper unbirthday party. Immediately.

Leona Kingscholar

“…Tch.” He looks away at first. Emotions aren’t his thing. But Yuu’s tears strike something deep — a sharp, unpleasant familiarity. He slowly walks over, tosses his jacket over their shoulders. “Don’t cry, herbivore. You’ll get wrinkles.” …That’s his way of saying he cares. Later that day, there’s a mysterious delivery on Yuu’s bed: imported snacks, a handmade card from Epel, and one of Leona’s favorite pillows.

Azul Ashengrotto

He feels sick with guilt. Yuu’s birthday. The very day. And he’d been… a monster. He walks over carefully, composed but clearly shaken. “I… I didn’t know. If I had—” He swallows. “No excuse. Please accept my apology.” Azul gives them a formal bow (very dramatic) and then immediately offers a birthday coupon booklet from the Lounge: “Free meals, drinks, desserts. Valid indefinitely. And… if there’s anything I can do to make up for it…” He means it. Every word.

Jamil Viper

He stiffens. Because deep down, he knows what it’s like — to be forgotten on your birthday. And now he’s watching it happen to someone who helped save him. Quietly, he slips beside Yuu and offers them a wrapped date-filled pastry. “It’s warm,” he says. “Fresh.” He doesn’t say sorry. He just sits with them in silence, offering quiet company. Later, he starts quietly planning a party. Nothing flashy. Just something to say: “You're not alone anymore.”

Vil Schoenheit

His expression falters. He was prepared to keep things composed — poised. But hearing that? That someone as important as Yuu spent their birthday in tears and shadows? Unacceptable. Vil kneels before them, brushing away their tears like a stagehand smoothing makeup. “No one deserves that. Especially not you.” He texts Rook immediately: ‘We’re throwing a surprise soirée. Tonight.’ He’ll glam them up. Pamper them. Let them shine. “Because a star like you should never go uncelebrated.”

Idia Shroud

He short circuits. “B-birthday?? YOU—wait, WHAT?? W-WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT WAS DURING STYX???” Cue panic mode. The tablet screen flips. The Ortho hologram stutters. He disappears… …only to send a cascade of frantic messages 20 minutes later.

“sorry i was being weird lol” “pls don’t cry i will literally code u a birthday game rn” “also…hbd…🧁🥺” You’ll find a digital chibi cake on your phone later. It sings a wonky birthday song Idia composed himself. And if you thank him? He explodes into pink flames.

Malleus Draconia

He’s absolutely crushed. His face darkens, the air grows heavy. “You… did not tell me it was your birthday,” he says softly. But then he notices your tears. And everything else fades. He kneels beside you, gently cupping your face. “Cry as much as you need. I shall not leave your side.” He raises his hand, conjures green fireflies, and softly says, “May your next birthday be bathed in starlight and surrounded by love. This I vow.” Expect ancient fae-style birthday blessings for years to come.

Rook Hunt

Rook gasps—genuinely heartbroken. “Oh, Trickster…! Quelle tragédie! To suffer so bravely and in silence…” He immediately pulls Yuu into a soft, protective hug, whispering comfort in poetic French. He kisses their forehead (dramatically) and vows: “Your next fête will rival the Masquerade of Roses in beauty and grandeur!” And he means it. That very night, Rook sets up a candle-lit celebration with homemade cake, handpicked wildflowers, and a handwritten ode titled: “Larmes d’un Héros.”

Epel Felmier

“…Wait… hold up. You were at STYX on your birthday??” He’s quiet for a second. Then: “…That sucks.” He sits next to Yuu and gently bumps their shoulder. “Next time, you better tell me. I’ll raise hell if anyone messes with your day again.” Epel reaches into his bag and shyly offers a candy apple, wrapped in crinkly foil. “It ain’t much, but…” he mumbles. Epel doesn’t like seeing people cry. Especially someone he looks up to. So he promises: “We’ll do it proper next year. Pinky swear.”

[lumilasi]

A scene from the upcoming chapter for S.o.S that I'm about to post today, I just need to do final edits for it. There is one error with this that I didn't realize until AFTER I finished drawing though, but..... tbh fixing it would be too much work rn, I'm not in the mood for it.

(in the actual scene Jayce isn't wearing a shirt, I forgot that was the case lol)

Sneak peek to the scene below:

Viktor turns his head, hand lifting up to grasp Jayce’s jaw. They were so close now, lips just inches apart, with Jayce’s hot, erratic breath brushing over his mouth in a manner that made the heat curling around his body even stronger.

”Yes?”

He asks with what was likely a very coy smile, masking the slightly anxious, erratic beat in his chest, whether it was a heart or something else. Jayce’s Hazel eyes had gone darker, his hands pressing against his hip and stomach heavy with their touch.

”I—I do. Gods, I do. I didn’t—I didn’t see it until now. I’m sorry, I’m a fool, I—”

Jayce squeezes his eyes shut as tears seem to start wanting to seep down again. Viktor turns in his hold, one hand resting on Jayce’s cheek, the other cupping the back of his neck to bring him closer, their foreheads tilted together again.

”I heard what you said last night. I—I was too much of a coward to—to say anything, I wasn’t sure if I—if—”

Jayce swallows down hard, his large frame trembling from emotion. The words he wanted to say too big to get out properly, too heavy and terrifying in meaning. Viktor understood how that felt, that was why he’d said those things in the quiet of the night, in a moment where Jayce wouldn’t hear them.

But he had, apparently. Perhaps Viktor should’ve been upset, but he wasn’t. He couldn’t be anymore, not when he’d had his answer long before Jayce attempting to say it out loud — long before this moment.

Viktor closes his eyes, lifting the hand on Jayce’s cheek to press his fingers delicately against the trembling lips, feeling Jayce’s breath hitch at the touch. It was almost amusing, seeing the Golden boy of Piltover so shaken, so unsure of himself. Needlessly so.

Viktor leans closer, brushing his mouth over the fingers he had pressed against Jayce’s quivering lips, his words coming out a fervent whisper against them.

”Ten years is a long time to wait, Jayce.”

Slowly, he slides the fingers away from his partner’s mouth, trailing down his jawline and neck, settling down against the rapid heartbeat he could feel beneath the heated skin. Oh, this felt so much better, not having a garment between them, separating his touch from Jayce’s body. He remained close, feeling that heated, uneven breathing brush against his mouth, making him almost able to taste the sweetness he knew those lips would carry.

[softlypaintedseafoam]

sparkler

synopsis. on the eve of ace’s 16th birthday, and your second to last new year in your hometown, you suggest trying your hand (or lips) at a staple new year’s tradition.

pairing. portgas d. ace x reader

word count. 3.2k | masterlist

content warning. f!reader in mind (but written gender neutral), pre-relationship, mutually unrealized feelings, first kiss (new year's kiss)

reblogs & interactions appreciated.

my actually planned ace wip still isn't done so you guys get a repost instead. it's a struggle rn because of the tonal shift post intro it might be split into two separate fics that can be read as standalones but are technically connected????? making shit complicated for myself 101. this was actually the first fic i wrote this year although it was posted originally on my older account!

“Well look at that,” you giggle, unsurprised, at how Luffy lays eagle spread on his back. His snores filling the air make up for the lack of crickets. “He’s knocked the hell out.” You poke his cheek, the 12 year old’s head turning with no resistance at the motion.

Ace snorts from his perch next to the window but the moonlight illuminates the softness of his expression. “Coming all the way out here was his idea too.”

“I can stay up all night!” The boy flailed when the idea of awaiting New Year’s Day in the old windmill was proposed. “I’m older now, so I won’t fall asleep!” He insisted the same way he did the previous year when he was 11. And the year before that. And the year before that.

With an amused sigh, you cover the boy with another blanket as Ace continues, “we’ll just have to wake him up. Again. He’ll pout if we don’t.” You make a noise of agreement as you make your way back to your place at the window.

Even this far from the Goa Kingdom’s most remote establishment, you can feel the buzzing excitement of the whole island. Something about the upcoming year does something to the atmosphere. You’re sure even the nobles in High Town are anxious with anticipation in their extravagant attire and even more extravagant parties. Somehow you know those celebrations have nothing on the ones you have with your boys.

Typically you’d be in the heart of Mt. Corvo, watching as the clan of bandits sang and drank. After a raucous chorus of cheers as the clock struck midnight and the distant fireworks roared, a boisterous birthday song ensued once Luffy was shaken away with the promise of food. Dadan would gripe but she’d still bring a cake out the kitchen, the only time she’d let the ‘gremlins living in her house’ eat sugar so late.

It’s a little different being in the old windmill.

The bandits are back home and Dadan said if they’d be out at the windmill all night, then they wouldn’t be getting cake until tomorrow. A worthy sacrifice for the cause. Luffy wanted to see the fireworks this time, so the fireworks you’d see.

You breathe in the crisp winter air, watching in amusement as your breath billows into smoky plume when you exhale.

One more year. Almost, you add after a second. Once it’s midnight, you officially have one more year before you and Ace leave this place. Resting your chin on your arms, you look at the dark-haired boy. Your fingers dig into your palms without your meaning to when you see his profile illuminated by the moon’s glow.

Pretty is the word that comes to mind.

Ace has always been cute. It’s been an objective fact since you were 10 and he was more sour than sweet. In this moment, however, 'pretty’ is the only word you can use to describe him.

Ace is very pretty.

Elbow propped and chin resting on his palm, Ace is truly something to behold. Maybe it’s in how you can barely see his freckles on his cheeks, or maybe it’s in how the quiet breeze caresses his hair.

For a reason you can’t fathom, the corner of your eyes prickle and they feel more sensitive to the cold.

I don’t know why I wanna cry when I look at you sometimes, as if to ground yourself, you breathe deeply and the feeling passes. It’s strange but it seldom happens. Maybe you’re just happy that you’re both still alive and the promise you made as little kids is going to come to fruition.

“I’ll join your crew,” you told him earnestly the winter after you turned 11. Dawn Island was covered in a blanket of snow and in an hour Luffy would stumble into your precious hideout and drop the bombshell of the century. Even then, it wouldn’t matter. Ace’s father could be the devil himself and he’d still be your friend, the captain of your crew. “Then you won’t be alone when the journey’s over because I’ll still be there.”

You’ll both turn 17 and then you’ll head off on a small boat to seas unknown. It’s finally so close to happening. Just one more (almost) year and you’ll leave late spring after Luffy’s birthday. One more birthday before you go.

You don’t realize you’re staring until you see dark brown eyes looking back at you, lips turned in a shy smile. “What is it?”

You blink, suddenly aware of your surroundings again. Your cheeks feel hot in the cool night. “Nothing,” you murmur. You hold each other’s gaze in spite of your words when in any other situation you’d have looked away by now, embarrassed. A wave of silence, save for Luffy’s snores, pass over you again. Like a babbling brook, you can’t help yourself, opening your mouth once more. “You’ve just… changed a lot, I guess.”

“They’re good changes, right?” Ace chuckles sheepishly.

It’s a contagious feeling, your lips curling upwards at the sound. The Ace you know now smiles more than he frowns and looks the most alive in the sun. It’s a stark contrast to the boy you first met. The one who frowned constantly and pushed away anyone who tried to get close, akin to a scared cat. “Yeah,” you nod into your arms, not minding how your cheek presses against your eye. “Definitely good.” So is the fuzzy feeling in your chest; the one always happy when Ace is around.

His smile is a little softer; at least that’s what it looks like. “Good.” Good. “It’s also pretty good I’m taller than you now, huh?”

“Oh shut up,” you shove the boy lightly. You may have been the tallest of your band when you were 10, but it came to a staggering halt after you reached 160 centimeters. You’d fought hard but Ace had eventually surpassed you when you were 12 and he hasn’t let you forget since. “I’m still older than you, you know,” you remind him petulantly.

“And you’ll still be short,” Ace replies all too pleased with himself.

You glare at Ace sourly before the two of you erupt in shared laughter. “Stop being an ass,” you say as your laughter subsides into light huffs. “Makino’ll cry if she knows you’re being mean to me.”

“There was nothing in her lessons against teasing,” Ace snorts and the laughter subsides.

Holding each other’s gazes does not.

Your shoulders feel tense even when there is no reason for them to be. It’s strange to be even a little nervous around someone you trust with your entire life. Ace doesn’t seem to have the same problem, though. At least, until you notice his hand flexing between an open and closed palm.

The two of you jolt at the sound of a particularly loud yelp, eyes whipping in the direction of the village.

It’s time?

A moment passes, however, and there are no fireworks.

Damn.

The two of you sigh in exasperated unison. “False alarm,” Ace grumbles.

“Looks like Luffy gets a few more Z’s, then,” you drape yourself over the window sill. Even the silhouettes of the windmills from which the village earned its name look like they’re growing antsy. “You’re lucky, your birthday always comes with a guaranteed light show.”

“It’s just an excuse for everyone to get wasted and call off work,” Ace waves a hand nonchalantly in dismissal. “Even at Dadan’s everyone ends up sleeping in until 3.”

“No,” you sit up properly once more. “The entire world is celebrating. That’s special.”

It’s brief but a humorless huff escapes Ace’s lips, “they’re not celebrating me.”

He doesn’t look at you when he says it, eyes firmly staring out the window. You’re sure he feels your eyes on him though. “They’re all celebrating your birthday because I said so,” you scoot a bit closer, nudging him with your elbow. “You get the biggest party, a guaranteed light show, all the works. You even get all the once-a-year traditions!”

At your clumsy insistence, he looks your way with the smallest hint of a smile for your efforts. “Getting drunk is an all the time thing at our place.”

Our place, he says it seamlessly. Like you’ve belonged at Dadan’s your whole life when you only started staying over more and more after your grandfather passed. “Hey don’t doubt me, I am the fun fact queen,” you puff our your chest, feeling light. “There’s this kingdom in the New World called Dressrosa; a book I read said they eat 12 grapes! And other islands close by to it party at cemeteries!”

“That one sounds like something you’d do,” Ace adds in his commentary.

You’re giddy at how he knows you so well, “and in some countries, they hang onions on their door.”

“Onions?”

“Onions,” you repeat yourself solemnly.

“It’s nice to know people are out there hanging up onions on my birthday,” Ace snickers. Another grin breaks out across your face at the sight. “What are people doing here on Dawn Island then?”

“Drinkin’.”

“I already know that one!” You don’t dodge how Ace pinches your cheek, giggling all the while.

You shake away his hand, not minding how the sensation of his touch lingers on your skin. “Okay, okay, I’ll be serious,” you sigh as if he is asking you to bring him all of your weight in gold. You think back to New Year’s Eves and midnight celebrations past. Demarius and the gang are probably down there right now, you realize.

If someone had told you when you were 10 you’d grow a moderate distance apart from your Windmill Village friends, you would call them crazy. A boring adult who liked spoiling the fun of children. Sure enough the non-existent prophecy came true.

It’s been 6 years since you were a child playing Marines only because it’s what Demarius and Stacey wanted to play. Your game of choice, Adventuring Sailor, was apparently too vague.

You seldom saw them unless you made the effort to trek down town. Visit your old home, dust off your old things. Visiting your grandfather’s grave. Then you’d swing by Pierre’s and suddenly you were all together again chatting like not much had changed between you.

Demarius and Stacey counted down the days until Garp would finally take them to a navy base like he promised. “We just have to be 16 and he’ll take us to enlist.” They’ll be leaving this year then.

Lisa Lisa being 13 still has a few years (soon to be a couple) to go.

Pierre is more than content to take over his family’s farm. Windmill Village is all he knows and all he is interested in knowing.

Then there’s you, the aspiring pirate. It didn’t have to be a pirate; you just wanted to be on the sea with no strict rules and regulations telling you where to go. Pirate just sort of became what you will end up doing. Your friends are kind enough not to comment on it. Much. Demarius still tries getting you to change your mind from time to time.

There’s a clear divide between you all now, minute it may be. They’re not your closest confidants anymore and you’re not theirs.

The New Year’s celebrations you had together in the past were still fun though.

Makino and the aunties made a huge spread, everyone sang and then there was the countdown to ring in the new year. You’d always been too concerned with the fireworks ー large, blooming flowers in the sky. You saw it sometimes, though, if you glanced around before your eyes looked up.

There’s always a handful of people who press their lips against one another when the clock strikes 12 and the fireworks are soaring.

“Uhh, people kiss.” Ace sputters at your words, coughing in surprise. “Yeah people kiss; no bullshit,” you confirm before he can ask you to repeat yourself.

“Why?!”

You shrug, ignoring how your own heart is beating less evenly, “Makino said it’s supposed to make your love life lucky in the new year. But I dunno,” when you visited a week prior, Stacey had been prime for his New Year’s kiss. Apparently he’s had a bunch; you wouldn’t know, you haven’t been in town for New Year’s Eve since Luffy, Ace and Sabo became part of your life. “Stacey’s apparently been macking it up since we were 14 and I’ve never seen the guy date anybody.”

Ace looks like he’s run a 5k after he collects himself. You hold back a chuckle knowing it’d embarrass him further. I kinda wish it was tomorrow already. It’s cute when Ace blushes, looking reminiscent of a strawberry. It’s a look you’re surprisingly fond of. “Have you?”

Ace looks at you with a raised eyebrow, “have I what?”

“Have you ever kissed anyone at midnight?”

“No,” Ace mutters, shoulders up to his ears as he avoids your gaze. “I was busy beating up thugs for pirate savings back then.” He certainly hadn’t kissed anyone at New Year’s in the time you’ve known him. The most affection he ever gets are clasps on the shoulder and proud hugs. “Besides who would I have even kissed? Dadan? Dogra?”

You snort, “you’re not their type.”

He rolls his eyes at your jibe, “yeah, yeah, neither are you.”

A breeze passes by and you blink, staring at Ace’s form, not a single thought passing through your mind. Truly, it’s word vomit at its finest. You aren’t sure what makes you say, “well what about kissing me?”

It’s when Ace looks at you, eyes wide, and face undoubtedly red even if its tinted blue in the moonlight, that you feel bashful. You can’t find it in you to retract your words, you grip your knees tightly. You wonder if you look more calm than you feel. “You know, for New Year’s. I haven’t either and,” you suddenly cough, unsure of who you’re trying to convince more. “Well, it isn’t like I’m trying to fall in love any time soon or anything but I’ve never kissed anyone. And if I’m gonna I don’t want it to be weird. Or with someone I don’t know. You’re my best friend so it won’t be weird. Not that we have to,” you add quickly.

The seconds, minutes or perhaps years it takes for Ace to answer feel like eons. Waking up Luffy in time for the fireworks seems like a less daunting task. Maybe you should, lest you die of embarrassment where you sit.

Thankfully ー thankfully ー Ace puts you out of your misery with a shy glance. “Alright,” his voice is barely a whisper. He nods, more to himself than you, in a bout of self-assurance. “Yeah, let’s do it.”

“Alright,” you agree dumbly.

As if they sense the agreement taking place, there is a distant chorus of excited squeals and laughs. You look out at the townscape, mind misty. When you strain your ears, you can vaguely hear the countdown beginning. 'Ten!’

Your heart clenches and Ace stutters at the same time, panicked, “Where- where do the noses go?”

Licking your lips, fidgeting, “I go one way, you go the other? That’s what everyone else does.”

'Eight!’

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah,” you suppress an anxious shudder, equal parts excited and terrified. It’s Ace, it’s fine. There’s nothing nerve wracking about it, you tell yourself. Imagine if this was a stranger. Or worse, someone else you know. But this is Ace. You’re safe with Ace, that thought makes you a fraction less nervous.

'Five!’

“What about Luffy?”

'Three!’

You spare a glance at the boy in question, still snoring away and unaware to your situation. “We’ll wake him up in time.”

'One!’

It’s you who leans first, a bottle of nervosity and too much energy. Crossing the very thin line into Ace’s space, hands resting upon the cool wooden floorboards, you press your lips against his. There’s a panicked noise he makes and you jolt away with your own, “sorry, I panicked!”

Fireworks scatter across the sky, setting the sky aglow but you barely even notice it. “It’s alright, I did too,” Ace murmurs, brushing his fingers across his lips. You aren’t sure what kind of expression he’s making. Wherever he is, he isn’t in the same room as you. He looks at you and you flinch, not sure if you’re fearful or still full of too much energy. “We, we can try again,” the sky turns red and paints Ace in a flush hue. “If you want.”

Slowly you nod, “I want to.”

Considerably calmer, you release a breath and this time Ace is doing the leaning. Your noise of surprise is soundless as his face slowly, carefully grows closer. In the light of the fireworks and the moon, you see him look at your lips and you swallow as your heart stutters. “It’s really okay?” Ace asks, voice small.

You nod, twice for good measure, foreheads tapping against each other lightly. “It’s okay.”

He moves a fraction of a centimeter, glancing from your lips to yours eyes again before finally closing the gap. Your eyes close, lips puckering instinctively at the feel another against your own.

His lips are slightly chapped, warm. Ace has always been warm; he’s like your own personal fireplace during the winter. It’s nice. He’s nice like this, lips snug against your own like you’re made of something precious even if you’re not. It’s a kiss that feels like it lasts forever yet not long enough when he pulls away and you trail after him for a half a second before stopping yourself.

The room is gold when you open your eyes and suddenly you can hear the fireworks again. When did you stop hearing them in the first place? Brown eyes stare into your own, noses not far apart.

It’s like you’re the only two people in the world like this; just you and Ace.

The corner of your eyes feel prickly again, your breath intertwining in the small space between you. It must be the fireworks making you feel a tad more sentimental and you’re not sure how to tether yourself to feeling normal again. Not when either of you are unsure how to break the silence, unable to look away from each other.

A shade of green erupts over the sky, a color not native to Ace at all that causes you to say something. “Happy birthday,” you breathe dreamily.

Ace’s lips twitch before breaking in a medium sized grin, “thanks.”

You come to your senses with a hiss, “fuck, we have to get Luffy up before the fireworks end.” Your knees ache as you rise onto your feet and your legs are a bit shaky as you step towards the boy. “Luffy! Get up, it’s Ace’s birthday! There’s a meat merchant passing by!”

Luffy is up faster than you can blink, “meat?!”

“No but it is Ace’s birthday,” you snort, shaking your head in amusement.

That brings a brighter grin on Luffy’s face, eyes shining. Luffy is as Luffy does, he wastes no time breaking into song. “Happy birthday to you,” he begins, off-key as always but you join in with his singing. Your chest burns something golden that doesn’t hurt and you suppress the urge to press your fingers against your lips.