#writing that all down would be DOPE

[hellyeahsickaf]

I found an extremely dope disability survival guide for those who are homebound, bedbound, in need of disability accommodations, or would otherwise like resources for how to manage your life as a disabled person. (Link is safe)

It has some great articles and resources and while written by people with ME/CFS, it keeps all disabilities in mind. A lot of it is specific to the USA but even if you're from somewhere else, there are many guides that can still help you. Some really good ones are:

How to live a great disabled life- A guide full of resources to make your life easier and probably the best place to start (including links to some of the below resources). Everything from applying for good quality affordable housing to getting free transportation, affordable medication, how to get enough food stamps, how to get a free phone that doesn't suck, how to find housemates and caregivers, how to be homebound, support groups and Facebook pages (including for specific illnesses), how to help with social change from home, and so many more.

Turning a "no" into a "yes"- A guide on what to say when denied for disability aid/accommodations of many types, particularly over the phone. "Never take no for an answer over the phone. If you have not been turned down in writing, you have not been turned down. Period."

How to be poor in America- A very expansive and helpful guide including things from a directory to find your nearest food bank to resources for getting free home modifications, how to get cheap or free eye and dental care, extremely cheap internet, and financial assistance with vet bills

How to be homebound- This is pretty helpful even if you're not homebound. It includes guides on how to save spoons, getting free and low cost transportation, disability resources in your area, home meals, how to have fun/keep busy while in bed, and a severe bedbound activity master list which includes a link to an audio version of the list on Soundcloud

Master List of Disability Accommodation Letters For Housing- Guides on how to request accommodations and housing as well as your rights, laws, and prewritten sample letters to help you get whatever you need. Includes information on how to request additional bedrooms, stop evictions, request meetings via phone, mail, and email if you can't in person, what you can do if a request is denied, and many other helpful guides

Special Laws to Help Domestic Violence Survivors (Vouchers & Low Income Housing)- Protections, laws, and housing rights for survivors of DV (any gender), and how to get support and protection under the VAWA laws to help you and/or loved ones receive housing and assistance

Dealing With Debt & Disability- Information to assist with debt including student loans, medical debt, how to deal with debt collectors as well as an article with a step by step guide that helped the author cut her overwhelming medical bills by 80%!

There are so many more articles, guides, and tools here that have helped a lot of people. And there are a lot of rights, resources, and protections that people don't know they have and guides that can help you manage your life as a disabled person regardless of income, energy levels, and other factors.

Please boost!

[novantinuum]

Steven's Breakdown Was Inevitable From the Very Beginning

I feel like the thing that fucks me up the most about Steven Q. Universe and how well conceived he is as a character is that the fundamental building blocks of why he reached his breaking point in SU: Future were laid out as clear as day in the span of legit only the first four episodes of the original show. The writing was literally always on the wall that future him would struggle with matters of self worth and identity in relationship to the others around him.

Let's take a look:

Gem Glow

"Awesome! What are these things?"

Foundational Trauma #1: Steven's home is always either under threat or actively being wrecked by antagonistic forces/beings, and he constantly copes with this by pushing down his fear in favor of a curiosity and silver linings based mindset.

Look at his initial shock when he opens the door and gets tackled by one of these things, and then his response when one of them spits acid:

The kid's freaked the hell out about all this, and while I do think there's a part of Steven that genuinely IS curious about what these lil critters are, I think he's subconsciously using that curiosity as a way to distract himself from his own fears and anxieties. This is Steven actively learning how to ignore the deeper problems in favor of emoting a facade to the others in his life that he can totally handle himself in scary situations like these.

The underlying reason why is incredibly apparent, when you look at the example from the next episode-

Laser Light Canon

"I don't know what a magic lady like her ever saw in a plain old dope like me..."

Genuinely- from the bottom of my heart- I think the above quote from Greg is a moment where his own insecurities around the Gems actually rubbed off on Steven.

At this point in time, Steven may be living with the Gems... but he hasn't started to harness any of his powers at all, so in his own head he might as well be the same as his dad- another human, just one who happens to have a gem! But the way Greg talks about himself... given Steven was living with him in the van for years before moving in to the beach house, he had to have heard negative self-talk from his dad like this before.

And then there's the rest of the Crystal Gems... always speaking of Rose with such reverence as if she were an all-powerful goddess... and Steven can't help but look back at himself, and his gem that won't work... the gem that the others still identify as Rose's...

"Your gem-! You have Rose's gem!"

And maybe he starts to wonder if- without any working powers- he's just a plain ol' dope like his Dad, too.

"Please work... Unlock! Activate! Go! Please-!! Everyone's counting on you, you can't just be useless!"

Foundational Trauma #2: Steven has Rose's gem, and as such, is constantly living under the silent expectation to live up to a standard that he simply cannot ever hope to achieve, because he doesn't KNOW her and he never will.

I want to highlight one of Steven's expressions while his dad is talking about Rose- look at that sad look. My god, I just wanna hug him. This is the expression of a child who has already come to terms with the fact that his only relationship with his mom is through the rose tinted stories that other people tell him about her.

Cheeseburger Backpack

So. Steven has learned so far that he needs to push down his feelings and emote a false veneer of cheer and bravery even when he's afraid, because the rest of the people in his life have expectations and hopes for him due to the legacy of his parentage and he can't bear the thought of letting them down. (And in a sad way, at this point "letting them down" literally just means... being an ordinary human boy. I believe Steven at this stage of the show is flat out scared to be human, because to be human is to fail at being a Gem, and no amount of love and sacrifice in the name of humanity in the seasons to come could've ever saved him from the fundamental fact that the wedge between him and this whole half of his being was already drawn long before the events of season 1 even started. But I digress.)

Let's see where we go from there. Let's check out Steven's first "mission." Or as Pearl puts it about 35 episodes later, his first "test."

"Yeah... they can't all be winners."

This episode is tinted with a little bit of tragedy for me on rewatch, because I genuinely do think the Gems handled the situation as well as they could've. They were supportive of Steven's successful ploys, and (for the most part) responded with grace when he majorly blundered and left the Goddess Statue at home. The main problem, however, is that Steven has already developed a bit of a complex about impressing the three of them-

Foundational Trauma #3: Even when they claim otherwise, Steven has convinced himself that affection from the Gems is transactional, and that when he messes up he's not truly a part of the Crystal Gems.

Of course we the audience know this isn't true- I mean, hell, Amethyst even said as much in episode one after her slip-up ("and you're fun to have around, even if your gem IS useless!")... that the Crystal Gems wouldn't be the same without him. But Steven... the poor kid is a complicated little guy living a complicated life, and whether they intended it or not, the language used they've used around him thus far has not backed up their attempts at fully embracing him, human parentage and all.

Thus, Steven just spends the entire episode wracked with anxiety trying to find creative non-power using ways to make the mission easier so he can convince them he's useful to have around.

Look how nervous he gets even when all three of them are visibly and vocally supportive of his presence here:

This is the face of a boy who feels like he's under constant judgement and scrutiny from those around him.

Blessedly, viewing this episode in isolation, he experiences a brief moment of mental respite where he finally accepts the Gems' encouragement and agrees that his ideas 'can't all be winners,' but this lesson does not stick for him moving forward. A shame, really.

Together Breakfast

"What's the matter, Steven?" "I wanted us all to have breakfast together, so I made Together Breakfast! But everyone keeps leaving..." "Oh, that's nice..."

Taken in context with what we've learned already in the last three episodes, Steven's desperation to spend quality time with the Gems here and his sadness that they keep leaving him alone doesn't just exist within a vacuum. He spends the whole morning watching them shuffle in and out of the temple, or come back from missions he wasn't invited on, and with the disastrous result of the LAST mission he went on probably fresh in his mind it's not hard to understand why this bothers him.

Foundational Trauma #4: Steven internalizes that the price of "not being useful" is that the Gems actively ignore him, meaning that the only way to guarantee their attention is to work as hard as he can to become a stronger member of the team.

I know this screenshot is usually used as a lighthearted meme, but I wanted to include it because I think it's a good example of how Steven's intense desire to impress permeates every facet of his personality at times. Just LOOK at how desperate he is to make Garnet laugh at his joke, to be the one that's at very least "fun to have around," as Amethyst put it in episode one.

The Gems do eventually drop what they're doing to spend time with Steven by the conclusion of this episode, but this only comes after Steven shows his growing strength and "proves" himself by saving their butts from the breakfast monster.

If he successfully gained their attention in literally any other way he might've come away from this episode with a different lesson, but no. Instead, his fears were proven true- the Gems value strength and utility, and if he's not exhibiting that, then what use is he to them?

These fears of his can be seen weaving throughout the foundational fabric of the entire show, but I think Steven lays out what he sees as his "stakes" in the clearest way possible in the episode 'An Indirect Kiss.'

"But- if I don't have powers, then I can't hang out with Amethyst, or Garnet, o-or Pearl, and- I-I can't go on missions!"

And these same insecurities even rear their ugly head as late as the movie.

"I can't believe this... for the first time in years, everyone's in danger, everybody needs me, and- I'm useless!"

Powers = Utility = Worth = Other's love, for Steven. Everything is transactional to the end, which is a hilarious double standard he's set for himself when he's made his reputation as the kid who always listens and encourages and gives others a chance to change, no matter their messy history with him.

__

So let's recap and restate those foundational traumas from Steven's perspective.

One: The only way to cope when your life is constantly under threat is to bury the damage and pretend to be fine.

Two: Everyone expects you to live up to the standards of someone you're not.

Three: The Gems only love you when you're of use to them.

Four: If you ever stop being useful, the Gems won't want anything more to do with you.

In sum, Steven's habit of burying his feelings for the benefit of others was there from the very beginning, not just since 'The Test.'

Those unreachable standards he felt so daunted and intimidated by all his life were the ones set by Rose, at first... but over the course of the series, the dynamic of this shifted. As Rose's influence fell into the background, Steven's rose into the front. And so it's with great irony that- by the time of Steven Universe: Future, the expectations this exhausted, worn down teenager is fighting to once again achieve are the ones HE set for himself. Many of young Steven's selfless actions during the war are quite admirable when analyzed in isolation, but almost none of them are sustainable. He set himself on fire just to save the world, but teen Steven is genuinely unable to see this for what it is yet- as a tragic sacrifice of his own childhood. You can't burn your own ends for others forever, not at all. His breakdown was simply inevitable.

When it comes to the interconnected beliefs three and four, these are exactly why the ultimate confrontation at the end of I Am My Monster HAD to be one fueled by selfless love. Steven is at his absolute lowest at this point- he's everything he fears he's become, trapped in a form that's nearly incapable of reason. He's big and angry and spiky because that's a part of the facade- because a part of him WANTS to scare the Gems away, wants to be left alone forever, believing this the fate he deserves as price for his misdeeds.

In this form, by his own definitions he is NOT useful to the Crystal Gems at all.

But they don't care.

Because it never WAS about Steven's 'usefulness' to them, they simply love him for being Steven.

With this in mind, the conclusion of Steven Universe: Future wasn't just a salve to teen Steven's immediate struggles, it was a salve to the foundational insecurities that have been plaguing him his entire life.

And hopefully... from this point on... his family's shows of love and encouragement will be enough to finally convince Steven that he's more than worth their time...

No matter what path the future leads him on, and no matter what form he takes.

[noir-lullaby]

Love is Blind | Terry Richmond

Summary: Falling in love without seeing each other was the easy part. But when the doors open and you finally lay eyes on Terry Richmond, you realise this isn't just an experiment anymore. It's real.

Warnings: pure fluff.

Author’s Note: Y’all, Terry Richmond on Love Is Blind was not on my bingo card, but here we are! 😭 I had so much fun writing this.

Word Count: ~2,800 words

The moment you signed up for Love Is Blind, you told yourself you weren’t going to settle. No half-hearted connections, no forcing sparks that weren’t there. You wanted something real. And yet, sitting on this couch in the pod, you found yourself falling. Hard.

His voice was deep, steady, a soothing kind of rich that made you lean in closer to the wall that separated you. There was a quiet strength to the way he spoke, an intentionality behind every word. He listened to you—not just hearing, but truly absorbing everything you said.

“So you really teach second grade?” Terry asked, a smile evident in his tone.

“Mhm, going on five years now. They keep me on my toes, but I love it. It’s beautiful seeing their minds expand, especially our little Black and brown babies. I want them to see the world as big as they want it to be.”

Terry hummed, a thoughtful pause before he responded. “That’s dope. I respect that.”

You grinned. “And you? A former Marine?”

“Yeah. Did my time, but I knew early on I wasn’t staying in forever. Too much blind loyalty, y’know? And I ain’t with all that.”

You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you. “I won’t lie, I’ve always had complicated feelings about the military.”

“How so?”

You exhaled, choosing your words carefully. “I get why people serve. I really do. But it’s hard knowing how much harm our government has done, especially to people who look like us. I could never put my life on the line for a country that’s never fully protected us.”

Terry was quiet for a beat before he spoke, voice even. “I hear you. And honestly? I don’t disagree. I enlisted ‘cause I needed stability. Wanted to make sure my family was good. But the deeper I got into it, the more I saw the cracks. So I left.”

You bit your lip, thinking. “Do you regret it?”

“Nah. It made me who I am, but it don’t define me. I’m more than that.”

Something in your chest warmed at that. You liked the way he saw himself, how he wasn’t confined to one experience, one box. It made you want to know more.

Days turned into weeks, and with every conversation, the connection deepened. You spoke about everything—the best soul food spots, your love for old-school R&B, the books that changed your lives. Be still, your heart.

The laughter, the teasing, the little moments of vulnerability—it all built to this moment.

“I know this might be crazy,” Terry started, voice lower now, like he was holding his breath. “But I can’t ignore what I feel for you. I don’t need to see your face to know I wanna build something real with you.”

Your heart pounded. You had dreamed of this moment, but with him, it felt different. It felt right.

“Terry,” you whispered, emotion thick in your throat.

“Will you marry me?”

Tears pricked at your eyes, the answer already there. “Yes.”

--

The night before the reveal, you barely slept. Your mind raced with excitement, nerves, and the tiniest sliver of doubt. What if he wasn’t attracted to you? What if the chemistry fizzled when you were face to face? But deep down, you knew it wasn’t just about looks. You had fallen for his mind, his heart, the way he made you feel safe without even seeing you.

And then, the moment came.

Standing behind the doors, your hands trembled. This was it. The moment you would finally see him, no walls, no barriers. Just you and him.

The doors opened, and your breath hitched.

Terry Richmond stood there, tall and strong, blue-grey eyes locked onto you with an intensity that made your stomach flip. He was beautiful, and the way his lips parted in awe made you feel like the most radiant woman in the world.

“Damn,” he exhaled, running a hand over his goatee. “You’re even more beautiful than I imagined.”

You let out a soft laugh, stepping forward as he pulled you into his arms. The embrace was firm, secure, like home. He smelled of cedarwood and something distinctly him, and when he pulled back just enough to look at you, there was nothing but warmth in his gaze.

“We really did this, huh?” you murmured, fingers tracing the lapels of his suit.

“Yeah, we did,” he said, voice full of certainty. “And I ain’t letting go.”

Neither were you.

You couldn’t stop staring at him, drinking in every detail—his strong jawline, the faint scar on his brow, the way his hands held yours like he was afraid to let go. “I was scared,” you admitted. “That maybe this connection wouldn’t feel as real in person. But looking at you now? I’ve never been more sure.”

Terry cupped your cheek, thumb grazing your skin gently. “I know what you mean. But I felt you before I saw you. And now that I see you?” He leaned in, voice low and reverent. “I ain’t going nowhere.”

Before you could overthink it, his lips captured yours in a slow, deep kiss. The world around you faded, cameras and crew slipping into nothingness as you melted into him. His hands anchored you, fingers pressing into the small of your back as he deepened the kiss, taking his time like he wanted to memorize the way you tasted. Your arms looped around his neck, holding him close, needing him closer. It was soft and urgent all at once, a promise sealed between you.

When you finally pulled away, breathless, he pressed his forehead against yours, a small smirk on his lips. “Yeah,” he murmured. “This is real.”

The first few minutes together felt like a dream. The way he held your hand, the way he whispered little reassurances—You good? You nervous?—all of it made you melt. The cameras, the producers, all faded into the background. It was just the two of you.

“So… what now, fiancée?” he teased, smirking as he twirled your fingers between his own.

You laughed, tilting your head. “I guess we get ready for the real world.”

“Think we’ll survive?” he asked, half-joking, half-serious.

You squeezed his hand. “As long as you’re in it, I’m ready.”

Terry studied you for a long moment, like he was committing every detail of your face to memory. Then, with a slow, confident nod, he smiled. “Then let’s do this, baby.”

And for the first time in a long time, you felt completely, undeniably, ready too.

taglist: @nayaesworld @slvt4her @novahreign @nbanenefrmdao @kaylalb @woahthatshitfat

[softestqueeen]

incredibly adorable

request: and if it’s not a bother I’d like to see prompt 5. “Please, look at me. Breathe, god please, breathe” with JJ saying the line after reader gets severely injured during a case. A happy little fluffy ending where reader is doped up on meds in the hospital and starts telling JJ that’s she’s really pretty and being an absolute flirt a/n: hey anon, thank you sm for requesting this! i've decided to write both fics, you can find the other request here! i hope you like it! enjoy <3 warnings: angsty, reader gets shot, fluff, reader is high on pain meds pairing: jennifer "jj" jareau x reader I 1222 words special prompts I special masterlist

This should have been just a regular take down. It was a bit risky, the unsub had barricaded himself into an old warehouse witha currently missing woman, but nothing the BAU hasn't done before.

Well, it should have been.

It all went smooth, you and Derek went in through the back, Hotch and JJ thrugh the front and the rest of the team either covered or went to a side entrance.

The moment you stepped into that warehouse you had a weird feeling. It seemed to be not just completely empty, but also completely clean. The walls were white, the floors were smooth and there wasn't any trash laying around like you'd expect it in an empty warehouse.

You and Derek started to check out every room, never splitting up in the never ending maze of the warehouse. Thankfully, it didn't have too many stories, the three floors being managable to cover for you and your team.

The further you went in, the more you felt that weird pit in your stomach. The two of you went up the stairs, telling the others over your ear piece that your part of the first floor had been clear.

Where the first floor was an endless maze of rooms and corridors, the second floor was completely empty.

No walls, no rooms, no corridors, only a chair with the unsub and his next victim tied to it.

Derek immediately demanded the unsub to drop his weapon, the gun that he was holding against the victim visibly glistening in the cold light from the lamp obove them.

The unsub didn't seem to back down though, the evil sparkle in his eye now falling onto you.

The way his eyes raked over your body, halting at the curve of your hip and the swell of your breasts made the hairs on your body stand up uncomfortably.

Derek and you took another step towards the two, the unsub pressing the gun harder into her temple.

It all happened in a flash, suddenly the gun wasn't pointed at the victim anymore but at you.

The sound of the shot still rang in your ears when you fell down to the floor. There was immediately another shot, probably Derek shooting the unsub, though you couldn't pin-point anything at the moment.

You could hear shouting around you, though your mind was too hazy to think clear. After a moment you could feel a hand on your shoulder slightly shaking you, a hand on your cheek mirroring the movement shortly after.

Even though you could hear what the person was saying to you, it all felt like it was so far away. In a moment of clarity, your eyes opened and you saw your girlfriend, Jennifer Jareau, leaning over you, pressing against your shoulder.

When JJ and Hotch entered the room and she saw you getting shot, she thought that she died in that moment. Her heart dropped, her mouth went dry and she could feel her knees buckle.

She caught herself though, immediately running to you once Derek had taken down the unsub. If it had taken a moment longer it would have been her who shot that son of a bitch.

Once she reached you, all she saw was blood. It wsa everywhere, in your hair, on your face and covering your vest and clothes. She leaned down and pressed her hands over the wound on your shoulder. Tears were in your eyes when she tried to shake you awake.

She wouldn't know what to do if you died now, her whole world now in your hands.

Suddenly your eyes open, just a little bit, and a groan left your lips.

JJ called your name, trying to get your attention.

"Please look at me. Breathe, god please, breathe."

Your head rolled to the side and finally JJ could hear the paramedics arriving at the scene. Derek had to gently take her by the shoulder, pulling her away from you, so the paramedics could get to you.

The blonde didn't leave you ot of her sight for even one second, insisting on riding in the ambulance with you.

She tried to get information out of the emt's, but they didn't know if you would make it either.

They wheeled you into the operation room and JJ could do nothing but wait if you would ever wake up again.

~~~~

The first thing you notic after waking up, was that you were, in fact, not dead. The second thing was your girlfriend - who was currently sporting a very worried expression - looking at her phone, sitting by your bedside. A frown was evident on her face, her eyebrows drawn together and her bottom lip caught between her teeth.

You had to admit that she looked incredibly adorable. Oh? Did you say that out loud?

Suddenly her attention went to you, the worried expression on her face not faltering for a second.

"Baby, are you alright? Can you hear me?" The dazed expression and loopsided smile on your face did nothing to calm JJ's nerves. She looked at you expectedly, waiting for an answer.

"You look so pretty right now, JJ," was all you said before continuing to smile at her again.

"Well, thank you. But I wanted to know if you are in any pain or need anything." JJ still tried to get at least some kind of real answer out of you, but you were still pretty out of it. It made sense after what happened that they gave you some pretty intense pain killers. If she was being honest with herself, JJ was just releived that you didn't seem to be in too much pain at the moment.

The blonde leaned forward, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. Your gaze followed the movement, tears gathering in your eyes with all the love you were feeling for your girlfriend at that simple gesture.

Seeing the tears in your eyes, JJ panicked. "Oh no, why are you crying? Are you hurting? Do you want me to call a nurse?" JJ was rattling off questions while the tears slowly started to make their way down your cheeks. Her hands immediately went to cup them, her thumbs gently wiping away your tears.

"Baby, please talk to me. What's wrong?" JJ was close to calling the nurse when she heard your quiet voice. Almost sheepishly you admit.

"I just love you so much JJ. Thank you for taking care of me and just... being there for me i guess. I really appreciate that."

At that JJ almost broke out in tears herself. Just 12 hours before you were shot, almost dying and now you were so out of it that the only thing on your mind was babbling about how much you loved her and how thankful you were for her.

"I love you too, baby. How about you get some more sleep, huh?" Your girlfriend suggested, slowly stroking your hair in an effort to get you to sleep.

"M'kay, but only if you lay down with me." You were already scooting over and holding up the blanket so she could slide in next to you, all while making the biggest puppy dog eyes at her.

She couldn't help but comply, having grown way too soft since you first started dating.

"Of course baby, anything."

the requests for this event are OPEN! here are the prompts!

a/n: i hope you liked this, if so please leave some notes, likes, reblogs and comments! feedback is very appreciated! i’d like to write more with criminal minds characters, so if you have any ideas/requests lmk!!

please also consider supporting my ao3: @ softestqueeen

requests open!

taglist: @silvermagnolias@milywatermelon@bigbananaa

[hoshifighting]

Heyy I love reading your blog, smut specially. I think no one write this better than you ehehehe.

So, how about pussy drunk mingyu, who's have not get to eat you out for a long time as reader's finals week is going on, so when he get the permission to finally get down. He is all giggling and happy as he fucks reader with his tongue and fingers.

Idk it just sounds cute and yet very endering for me

mingyu giving oral, after you spent weeks studying nonstop

a/n: thanks a bunch for checking out my blog!! it's dope to know that I'm giving u a good read 🥰🥰 💋

warnings: smut, pussy eating, fingering, clit stimulation.

the past few weeks had been an intense blur of textbooks, highlighters, and endless nights spent studying for your finals. mingyu, ever the supportive boyfriend, had been by your side through it all. his knowledge seemed limitless—physics, mathematics, arts—he was good at almost every subject. whenever you felt overwhelmed, he knew exactly where to find the best study sources and would send you video classes from youtube. those short videos packed all the information you needed in just a few minutes, saving you precious time.

mingyu's help had been invaluable, but he wished he could do more. every time he glanced at you, he saw the tension in your shoulders, as if you were carrying the weight of the world. he would always offer you a massage, sometimes suggesting more intimate ways to relieve stress. but your anxiety about the tests made sex the last thing on your mind, and he understood. he was patient, always reassuring you that it was okay, that he didn’t mind waiting. he knew what it was like to be a college student, after all.

finally, the day of your last test arrived. you walked into your apartment with a big smile, clutching the exam paper that displayed your high score. the moment mingyu saw you, he lifted you into the air, covering your face, neck, and shoulders with kisses.

“you did it! i’m so proud of you!” he exclaimed, his eyes shining with pride.

you laughed, feeling lighter than you had in weeks. “i couldn’t have done it without you, mingyu. you were my rock.”

setting you down gently, he looked at you with a mixture of love and desire. “you look exhausted, baby. how about you take a warm bath to get rid of all that tension?”

you nodded, feeling the stress of the past weeks starting to melt away. “that sounds perfect.”

as you turned to head to the bathroom, mingyu leaned in and whispered in your ear, his breath warm against your skin, “i’ll be waiting for you in the bedroom, to get rid of every single bit of tension.”

a shiver ran down your spine, and you bit your lip, feeling a spark of excitement. you grabbed a towel and rushed to the bathroom, eager for the first time in weeks.

the warm water enveloped you, washing away the last remnants of stress. you closed your eyes, allowing yourself to relax completely. after what felt like an eternity, you stepped out, wrapped the towel around yourself, and headed to the bedroom.

mingyu was waiting for you, as promised, lying on the bed with a look of anticipation. he smiled as you entered, his eyes raking over your form. “feeling better?”

you nodded, dropping the towel and slipping into bed beside him. “much better.”

his hands were warm and gentle as they began to massage your shoulders, working out the knots of tension. you closed your eyes, leaning into his touch. “you have no idea how good this feels.”

he chuckled softly, his breath tickling your ear. “i think i have some idea.”

you raise an eyebrow, teasingly. "and what would that idea be?" you ask.

mingyu smiles, a glint of hunger in his eyes as he lays you down on the bed, gently opening your towel to reveal your naked form. droplets of water still adorn your skin, catching the light. his gaze intensifies, and you can sense that your eagerness is growing.

without warning, mingyu's warm mouth descends on you, his lips and tongue immediately finding your clit. your mind goes completely blank, all the stress and information from your studies vanishing in an instant. your eyes roll back, and a gasp escapes your lips as he expertly alternates between flicking and sucking, his tongue dancing with precision.

mingyu has always been greedy when giving you oral, and tonight is no exception. his eyes never leave your face, studying every reaction. he knows exactly how to break you, paying attention to the way you tremble when his tongue flicks a little faster or the way your moans turn to broken whimpers when he sucks your clit into his mouth.

you expected some preliminaries, like kisses on your thighs or gentle licks, but mingyu goes straight to what he knows you need. his intensity leaves you breathless, and you can feel yourself getting wetter with each passing second. mingyu isn't a man of quickies; even with oral, he takes his time to give you the full experience. his mouth is relentless, and just when you think you can't take any more, he adds his fingers to the mix.

his middle and ring finger slide into you effortlessly, and you barely notice the initial stretch. he pumps them in and out slowly, matching the rhythm of his tongue on your clit. your back arches, and you grasp at the sheets, feeling everything twice as intensely after so long without release.

mingyu's mouth works in tandem with his fingers, and you can feel the tension building inside you, coiling tighter and tighter. his tongue and fingers play you like an instrument, and you can't hold back any longer. the wave of pleasure crashes over you, and you cry out, your body trembling as the orgasm breaks through you.

mingyu doesn't stop, his mouth and fingers coaxing every last bit of pleasure from you until you're completely spent, collapsing back onto the bed with a contented sigh. he moves up to lie beside you, a satisfied smile on his face.

"feeling better?" he asks, brushing a strand of hair from your forehead.

you nod, breathless and blissful. "much better."

he kisses your forehead tenderly.

mingyu smirks, clearly pleased with himself. "by the way, what's the formula for newton's second law?" he asks playfully.

you stare at him, completely dumbfounded. "huh?" your mind, still foggy from the intense orgasm, struggles to recall the subject you've been studying for weeks and the exam you just took today.

he chuckles, enjoying your reaction. "just messing with you," he says, brushing a kiss across your forehead. "i'll let you recover. you're too sensitive right now."

you let out a breathless laugh, and you can still feel the effects of pleasure. "yeah, i think we need to take things slow for a bit," you agree, knowing it will take a little time to ease back into the rhythm of the constant sex you two usually enjoyed.

mingyu pulls you into his arms, holding you close. "no rush," he whispers. "we have all the time in the world."

[hayleythesugarbowl]

hey I love ur fics, can you maybe do like a Trevor evarts headcanon? Or a Spencer Agnew fic that takes place at the Shourtney reception.

Marry Me || Spencer Agnew x reader

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ masterlist • smosh masterlist  ⋆˚｡⋆୨୧⋆

summary: after seeing shayne and courtney tie the knot, you are worried that you’ll never find a love like theirs. that’s when you start to see your best friend spencer in a new light

word count: 2.4k

warnings: none

a/n: ok first of all i know everyone and their pet rat uses this pic but i couldn’t help it this photo of spencer does things to me 🫠 second of all, i loved both of these ideas and so i had to write them both!! trevor hcs to come stay tuned 🤭 i took some inspiration from that one friends ep in london for this iykyk so thanks mondler. enjoy!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    “Spencer, if you were a guy you’d marry me, right?” 

     “First of all, ouch.” Spencer clutched his chest. “And second of all, what?”

     “I mean, is there something un-marryable about me?” You asked, taking a sip of your drink. 

     You didn’t know what was bringing on all of the sudden thoughts about being married—or not being married.

     Well, that was a lie. You did know.

     You had just watched two of your best friends get married earlier that day. Shayne and Courtney were perfect for each other. You were so happy for them and you loved being happy for them.

     But now, as you leaned against the bar at the reception, you couldn’t help but worry that this would never happen for you.

     You’d had lousy, short-lived relationship after lousy, short-lived relationship. Up until you met your last partner, who you’d dated for a year and a half. 

     It was the first long-term relationship you’d had—with someone you thought you could end up marrying.

        That didn’t turn out exactly how you thought it would. You’d broken up last month. 

    You’d always thought the fact that you’d end up with someone for life was a given. It just happened. It had to. But now you weren’t so sure. 

     “I don’t think so,” Spencer looked you up and down, his voice bringing you out of your thoughts. “People settle all the time.”

    You whacked Spencer on the arm. “Very funny. But when I end up as an old cat lady living in your basement, it won’t be.”

     You and Spencer had been best friends for as long as you could remember. It was him who’d gotten you your job at Smosh and introduced you to all the people you were surrounded by now. 

     “There are worse fates. Cats are dope and I’ll always run the ac.” 

     “Spencer,” you whined. “I’m serious.”

     “Yes, (Y/n), I’m sure someone out there would love to marry you,” he said. “Now can I go now? I heard there’s a La Croix tower inside.”

     “I wish,” Shayne said, walking by and overhearing. “Courtney ixnayed that idea a while ago.”

     “Not until I get my wenching hour!” Courtney stated, catching up and stopping to kiss her husband. 

     “Congratulations guys,” you called as they kept walking, mingling with more people.

     You wanted that. Not the La Croixs or whatever Court was talking about, but a relationship like theirs. 

     A best friend who knows everything about you and who would do anything for you. Someone who you spend all of your time with, not knowing how you feel about them until you do. And then getting to know them as a partner and becoming intimate with them in a new way.

     Getting to love them in a new way.

     You groaned, turning to Spencer. “Do me a favor? If we’re both single when we’re 40, let’s get married.”

     “Woah, what makes you think I’m going to be single when I’m 40?”

     You raised an eyebrow. 

     “Yeah ok fine, I’ll marry you,” he agreed.

     You sighed and Spencer took a step closer to you, putting his arm around your shoulder. 

     “Hey, you’re going to find someone,” he said sincerely, “You’re kind and funny and beautiful. Lots of people would be lucky to have you.”

     “You’re just saying that,” you waved him off.

     “I’m dead serious,” he said, turning so he could look you in the eyes. “You’re one of the best people I know. Any guy who doesn’t love you immediately is on something.”

     You looked into his eyes as he comforted you. He looked like he really believed all of the things he was saying to you.

     This suddenly felt…different. As Spencer pulled you in for a hug, wrapping his arms around you, you couldn’t help but…

     No. This was Spencer. He was being a good friend, this was normal. Why now should you be…

     But you couldn’t keep the thought from creeping into the back of your mind. Spencer…

     You may have had a tiny crush on Spencer when you had first met. Who wouldn’t, you had thought. He was funny and cool and had killer tattoos. But once you’d become friends, all of that attraction had turned into friendship and you hadn’t thought of him that way since.

     Until now…

     You pulled away from Spencer’s embrace slowly. 

     “You’re going to get married, ok? You’re a catch. And if not, then I’ll be happy to marry you at 40. I’ll start picking out my tux tomorrow.”

     You smiled, thinking how sweet Spencer was being. 

     “Now, let’s talk about how many cats you’re going to have in my basement, because I max out at eleven.”

     And just like that the spell was broken. This was Spencer, your best friend. Who was always teasing you and making you laugh and definitely wasn’t someone you were romantically interested in.

     Right?

     “And if I had my heart set on twelve?” You asked him, carrying on the joke.

     “I guess I could make an exception,” he shrugged. “But only because I love you.”

     Your heart leapt and you tried to tell it to shut up. You and Spencer had told each other you loved each other several times. So why now did it just encourage your thoughts.

     Just then someone a few yards away called Spencer over.

     “Hey, I’ll catch up with you later,” he told you. “Try not to marry a stranger while I’m gone.”

     And then he left you to your musings. You didn’t like Spencer, not like that. 

     You blamed it on the wanting a relationship like Shayne and Courtney. And you had just been worried that you were never going to find anyone, and Spencer had comforted you. 

     Maybe you just felt grateful, that was all. Grateful that your best friend was there to cheer you up.

      But you couldn’t picture Spencer calling you beautiful and then wrapping his arms around you without feeling all warm and fuzzy inside.

     You imagined actually marrying Spencer. You had said it mostly as a joke and partly so you could have a backup in case you really were alone forever. 

     But now, the more you thought about it, the thought of being married to Spencer, sharing everything and being together for the rest of your lives, didn’t seem like just a backup. 

     Oh god. Maybe you did have feelings for Spencer. Maybe you always had. You tried to think back on your relationship, looking for signs. 

     You’d always felt close to him. Closer than you were with anybody else. Maybe it had always been him and you just hadn’t seen it in a while.  

     You began walking, desperate to be away from your thoughts and needing the distraction of moving. 

     You looked up just in time to realize you’d almost run into Amanda and Angela.

     “Hey guys,” you said, “Sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

     “Been there!” Angela leaned in for a high five and you looked down at the drink in your hand.

     “Oh no, it’s not—I’m not drunk,” you said. “I just have a lot on my mind, that’s all.”

     “Ooh, wedding tea!” Amanda exclaimed. “Spill.”

     You sighed. What was the harm in telling them. “You ever suddenly realize you might have feelings for your best friend even though you’ve never thought of them like that before?”

     “Isn’t that why we’re all here?” Angela gestured around her at the wedding festivities.  

     “That is pretty Shourtney coded,” Amanda nodded her head, before whispering to Angela, “Did I use that right?”

     Angela patted her on the shoulder.

     “I’m not talking about Shayne and Courtney,” you said.

     “Then never,” Angela said

     “All the time,” Amanda said at the same time, thinking. “Wait who do you—Spencer?”

     Angela hit her in the arm.

    “I mean, Spencer?” She said much quieter that time.

     “Maybe,” you whispered, not being able to stop the smile spreading on your face. 

     “Since when?” Angela asked you.

     “Like ten minutes ago?” You answered. “But in a way maybe I’ve always known? I was telling him all this stuff about how I was worried I’d never get married and that I was going to end up alone and he was so sweet and reassuring and now I can’t get the thought of him out of my head and…” you groaned, trailing off. “And now I don’t know.” 

     Angela and Amanda shared a look. “We have to,” Angela said.

     “Angela, we promised,” Amanda chided, shaking her head.

     “But c’mon,” she gestured at you. “We have to say something.”

     “Ok guys? I can still hear you,” you told them. 

     “Right, sorry.” Angela said. “It’s just—”

     “Spencerhasacrushonyou,” Amanda spit out.

     “Dude!” Angela threw her arms up. 

     “Sorry,” Amanda bit her lip.

     “You knew I wanted to say it,” Angela mumbled. “But I get it, not the time.”

     “Back up,” you got out, “What?”

     “Spencer really likes you, (Y/n),” Angela said. “We’ve known for a while now. In fact, I’m pretty sure everyone at the office except you has known for a while now.”

     What? You couldn’t believe your ears. What they were saying didn’t make sense. There was no way Spencer, your best friend, had had feelings for you this whole time.

     “No,” you said, taking a step back. “You guys are crazy.”

     “Yes,” Angela agreed. “But not about this.”

     “Ask him yourself,” Amanda said.

     “Yeah, and you know, just don’t mention that we were the ones who told you,” Angela shrugged.

     Were you really going to do this?

     You took a deep breath. What would you even say?

     Hey, a little birdie told me that you have a crush on me and I, as of very recently, have feelings for you, let’s see where this goes?

     “Hey, Angela,” Amanda suddenly stated  loudly. “Look, it’s that guy!”

    She pointed in the opposite direction and Angela’s eyes brightened. “Oh, I love that guy!”

     You turned around, seeing that Spencer was approaching you. 

     “Thanks guys,” you muttered sarcastically.

     They both hurried away and Angela winked at you as they passed. You rolled your eyes.

     Spencer came up behind you. “Damn, you don’t take a shower for like one day...”    

     You laughed. “No, they just had to run. Saw some guy, apparently.”

     “(Y/n), what’s up?” Spencer looked at you. “You kinda look like you had some of that punch inside.”

     He made a face.

     “You have feelings for me?” you blurted out.

     Arguably, you could’ve handled that better. You didn’t even mean to say it, but upon seeing Spencer it had just kinda slipped out. 

     Spencer’s expression turned into one of shock. He fumbled for words. “I, um—I don’t—who told you?”

     Is what he finally settled on.

     “Because if it was Angela, I swear—”

     “It doesn’t matter,” you told him. “What matters is, is it true?”

     Spencer sighed. “Wow, um, I definitely didn’t mean for you to find out this way—or at all, for that matter—but yeah. The eleven cats are out of the bag. I guess I have feelings for you.”

     “For how long?” You mumbled, still in disbelief even though he had just confirmed it. This night was a roller coaster of emotions.

     “For as long as I can remember,” Spencer rubbed the back of his neck. “Since the moment I met you.”

      You let out a breath. You didn’t know what to say.

     “But its no big deal!” He hurried out. “I’ve gone years of being your friend without you ever knowing. I’ve gotten kind of good at it. Since you obviously don’t feel the same way, can we just pretend this never happened and go back to the way things were?”

     “No,” you said slowly. “No, I can’t do that.”

     “Yeah, well, I guess this does sort of ruin our friendship, huh?” He deflated, looking at the ground. “I completely understand if you don’t feel comfortable with—”

     And that was all he got out before you kissed him. 

     He looked surprised for almost two seconds before he wrapped his arms around you slowly and kissed you back.

     He was hesitant at first, as if he wanted to make sure that you wanted this as much as he did. 

     But as you let your lips give him encouragement, he kissed you harder, more intensely.

     He kissed you like he had been waiting years for this moment.

     “Wow,” you breathed, pulling away gently. “That was…different.”

     “Yeah we don’t usually do that,” Spencer agreed and he sounded as breathless as you felt. 

    You both started laughing. 

     “But I’d like to keep doing it,” Spencer added.

     “Yeah,” you smiled at him, “yeah, me too. I guess I owe it to you, you have been obsessed with me for years.”

     “Obsess is a strong word!” Spencer held up his hands in defense. “I prefer unrequited pining.”

     “It might not have been entirely unrequited the whole time,” you confessed, grabbing Spencer’s hand. 

     You heard someone—or, multiple someones—cheering and you turned to find Shayne and Courtney looking in your direction. 

     “Finally!” Courtney shouted, laughing with the small crowd that had gathered around them, witnessing what just happened 

     “Time for all of us to cash in on our office bets,” Shayne said. “Who had 2024?”

     “I sure didn’t,” Amanda said, a few feet away from the bride and groom. “That was not on my 2024 bingo card.”

     She turned to Angela, who didn’t even look her way as she said, “Yeah, you used it right. 

     You laughed, looking at Spencer before turning back to everyone else. “Sorry, this is your wedding and here we are making out!”

     “The more the merrier!” Courtney called.

     “Wait a second, you’re not about to propose though are you?” Spencer asked.   “Because we still have a while before 40.”

     You giggled. “You totally just spoiled it! I didn’t even get to pull out my ‘marry me’ sign.”

     But he was right. You had time. To see where this went, to explore this new relationship. You couldn’t wait.

     You’d known Spencer as a friend, your best friend. And now you’d get to know him as a partner.

     “Bold of you to assume I would say yes,” Spencer answered.

     “You would’ve said yes,” you teased, nudging his shoulder.

     “Not if I beat you to it.” 

     Spencer got down on one knee, grabbing your hand.

     “(Y/n) (Y/l/n), will you make me the happiest man at this reception—barring Shayne—and go out with me?”

     You laughed at the fake proposal. “Yes, Spencer. I will go out with you.”

     He stood up, kissing you softly. 

    “I’ll be expecting another one of those in 10 years,” you said. 

     “I’ll be counting down the days,” Spencer smiled. 

     Amanda walked passed you then, shaking her head as she thought aloud. 

     “First kisses,” she muttered. “Never gets old.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ˋ°•*⁀➷ ahh i hope you guys enjoyed this!! like i said, trevor hcs coming soon. watch out for another spencer fic in the works!! 🎀🍒

[niftykin]

" Each kiss breaks a wall "

RUGGIE BUCCHI - Twisted wonderland

Sypnosis: He will always know when you feel insecure, and he will always made sure that each one of his kisses break every brick you have placed in every one of your walls, once his lips caress your skin as a symbol of his everlasting love for you, he will make you feel worshipped. Soft Dom! Ruggie

Request: could I request a similar prompt (love-making, maybe reader feeling insecure?) w a dom!ruggie and established relationship? i know the prompt was from a writing event so feel free to ignore this request or change it!! have a nice day mwah mwah ❤️🍒

A/N: I have decided to get full on writing again after a writer's block that lasted a lot. I was ill, I'm pretty much okay now and I'm truly on this now, very nice, request are open

Warning: Smut, MDNI, all characters portrayed are up to 18, AFAB reader, romantic, fluff and a lot of smut, actually just cunnilingus, I say that people made sculptures after people with body like yours I don't really specify it tho, reader is insecure by a part of her body and is also not specified which.

He has seen you, he knows you, more than anything in this world— He pays attention.

He watches, he has seen how you look at yourself in the mirror, the slight distaste that runs on your pupils, how you refuse to look at certain spots of your skin, how you ignore them. He has realized how you flinch when he touches that patches of skin, he knows why that is but he doesn't really get why. People made sculptures over people like you, how could you feel disgusted over something so gorgeous— So natural.

Ruggie admires you.

His gaze makes you feel vulnerable under his knowing eyes, every blink adds a layer of tension in the whole deal. He doesn't look at you with disgust, ¿How could he? He worships your body and your body is the very extent of your soul— just as beautiful as it is. You're his soulmate, he feels at ease with you, his mind tranquil, his gaze soft, his pupils dilated like a doped man, you fit. You for in his arms, you fit in his very soul.

You're his Oasis. The water in his desert, the gold in his ambition, the one who brings light in his eyes. He loves you, ¿how could you ever think otherwise? He doesn't get it, he tried to, multiple times, but ¿why do you feel like that?.

If you don't feel welcomed in your own skin, he will let you have his. You live in his insides without knowing, every emotion, every thought, every flavor, every sensation. Everything is you.

You're his muse— he is no soldier, nor poet, nor a prince, nor an artist. But he loves just as deeply. You're not portrayed in his battles, or his poems, or his rules, or his paintings but on every single action he takes every single day, in every moment of his life, to be better. For you.

He will close your eyes when you don't want to see and he will cover you when you don't want to be seen.

So every time he catches a glimpse of you looking with distaste a part of your skin his hands cradle from behind you, his touch reverent, almost feather-like as his fingertips run over your cheeks and stop to cover your eyes. The reflection— your reflection is no longer visible for you, but for him. His lips travel over your skin softly, his words like a soothing balm to your very soul: "You're beautiful", like a bandage in a wound.

The bandage won't heal the wound, but it will help to stop burning.

The kisses won't make your insecurities fade away, but they will show you that not everyone hates that part of your body. That you are beautiful. That you are oh so very loved.

Then, he will lead you to the bed, lay you on you back as he watches you with pure devotion glimmering in his eyes, the malice he shows when he laughs at Leona or anybody else is completely gone in this— your chambers. His lips curving themselves in a soft smile as he looks down at you, his head tilted and his tail swinging calmly "I love you" he would say while he looked at you right on the eyes.

He would kiss you after, a soft kiss in the lips that only lasted a second, it burnt but it didn't hurt.

You laughed. He did too.

Then, he leaned for another, and then another, each one being slightly longer than the last, his fingertips moving over the patches of skin you hate without distaste but adoration.

His lips over yours as his hand travelled down your thighs, caressing them softly. "Do you want this?" He asked, his tone calm, peaceful, respectful— once you nodded he started kissing your cheek, travelling down your jaw, neck and collarbone, his hands undressing you with a calmness you would have never expected of a Hyena beastman like him.

He kissed the middle of your ribs, travelling his lips further down as one of his hands played with one of your breasts until he reached your lower abdomen and he took a breath. "¿Can I?" Ruggie asked to you, his eyes doe and clouded with desire and affection for you and the moment you gave him the green light his head dissapeared between your thighs, his ears twitching in satisfaction in you sight as his tongue sucked and licked all of your wetness. It was heavenly, it felt heavenly.

You were his Oasis, and he made sure to drink you like it. His hands grabbed your hips to keep you in place as he continued his restless assault to your core, his legs moved slightly in the bed, trying to put him closer to your crotch as his face kept placed in it, he hummed around your clit, his breath ragged as he sucked on your sensitive bud before he released it and gave you a few licks, your juices dripping from his chin to the sheets, but he couldn't care less about it. You tasted too good to stop and think about those little details.

His hand travelled to your thigh, making you rest it agaisnt his shoulder as his hand quickly went to your chest, massaging it as he let out another him of appreciation. He was drinking you like a dehydrated man.

His other hand, on the contrary, went to your heat, his middle finger teasing your entrance as his lips sucked at your clit ruthlessly before he started pulling the tip of his finger inside and move it at a painfully slow velocity before he started to pull more and more deeply on you until he was knuckle-deep inside. His movements were like waves mixed with the sucking and licking at your clit, the pleasure became almost unbearable and before you could know, your back was arched, your head thrown back and your head dizzy for the amount of pleasure. His finger drove you off of that high and when you were recovering, he pulled his finger outside of you with a lascive "Pop" before he put it in his mouth and sucked it suggestively, moaning at the taste.

"¿are you ready for another round, my love? I don't think I can show you how badly I desire you in just one ¿you know?"

AAA I forgot to write smut, I apologize for any mistakes in the grammar, english is not my first language, my request are open and I write for almost every fandom! Just ask!

[lethalines]

sweetness.

cw : smoking (weed) , drugs , touchy rafe , soft!barry. ummm I think that’s it, not proof read

reader shows up to barry's trailer unannounced to stock up on her "life savings". what she didn't expect to see was rafe cameron, the rafe that used to pick on her for being a pouge

enjoy!!

you'd been laying in bed scrolling threw your phone, tears threatening to slide down your face, you didn't know why you felt the way you did but what you did know was that you needed it to stop, one way or another. you got up and walked over to your closet pulling out a box full of lighters, rolling papers, grinders, tiny bongs, everything but what you were looking for "shit" you mumbled.

so thats how you found yourself walking through a familiar path to your dealers trailer, tears slipping down your face each time you blink

soon you made it to the trailer but when you walked in you heard him laughing along with someone else.

"Barry!" you called out in hopes for an answer, a few seconds later you saw barry poke his head out through the doorway

"watchu need today, sweetness" you blushed at the nickname, as you did every time. you don't know when that name came around but it did and you did know you liked it "just need to stock up" you said looking at him

barry takes your hand pulling you into the room he had just come out of, you look around and see someone you weren't in hopes to see

Rafe Cameron

you look at barry with a frown but obviously he didn't understand, so you tried to brush it off. "cmon, sit down" Barry said as he lit up a joint he rolled before you showed up as well as grabbing a ziploc stuffed with weed, there wasn't many places to sit so you were forced between rafe and barry. you were very nervous and that was clear to to the boys on either side of you

"take it, chill out a lil, sweetness" Barry said handing you the joint "kay" you said quietly taking it from his fingers, you took a bigger hit than usual, coughing a little more cause of it.

Rafe looks at you funny making you even more nervous, until it started to kick in and it started to get dark outside. the weed making you tired, you pulled your knees up to your chest wrapping your arms around your legs

Barry looked at you then rafe, you look up at barry but you feel something pulling at the hem of your jean shorts, you turned seeing rafe playing with it "hey!" you swatted his hand away "what? I'm not doing anything" he snapped back. you looked at barry through your lashes tilting your head hoping he would say something to rafe, instead he comes closer whispering in your ear "he likes you, sweetness" then quickly turned the other way lighting another joint, handing it to you. you wanted to say something to barry but after a while you started to not care.

soon you started to feel all fuzzy, and you see rafe pull out a little baggy with something white inside. you looked at him weird then turn back facing barry, seeing him grab the baggy from rafe's hand but then he grabs you by your head, fingers on your temples. confused, you tried to get out of rafe's grip as you watched barry open the tiny bag dipping one finger inside then turning back to you, grabbing your jaw forcing your mouth open. you whined when he started rubbing the coke along your gums. rafe kept you in his grip until he was sure it started to hit you.

you felt something new, you had never done it before and you were scared. but barry saw that and pulled you closer to him so your head is on his lap.

Barry grabbed the tv remote turning on a movie called "dope" the entire time you giggled at the tv as well as rafe rubbing your bare legs softly, you feel barry press a kiss on your temples before your eyes fluttered shut and you fall asleep.

okay so this is my first story 😦 hope you enjoyedd!, I’ll probably start writing smut soon if that’s also a want. but for now, stories are limited to literally anything but smut. anyway see you next story, I have no one to tag😝

byebye!!🦩

[sweetiesicheng]

vernon - movie night

word count : 560

-

every week, you and your upstairs neighbor have a movie night together. he's a film student, so it isn't surprising. vernon likes to write movie reviews, and he also likes to have a buddy with him. while he has great friends, he likes when you come by since he thinks your opinions are interesting.

after meeting each other in the elevator one day, the movie nights have been going on since last semester. it's been a lot of fun, even if you have to share your dinner with vernon. how has he lasted this long on eating bread all the time?

—

[ vernon ]

coming over?

[ y/n ]

i'm making dinner. be

up when i'm done.

[ vernon ]

cool.

—

you put your phone down and finish cooking your dinner. you grab a container and pack your food before throwing the container into a bag along with some snacks.

when you're ready to leave, you open a window and climb out of your apartment and onto the fire escape. you slide the window closed again and climb up to the unit above you.

"did you make some for me?" vernon asks when you make it up. he's standing by the already opened window inside his apartment.

"if i didn't, then you'd eat bread again," you reply as you hand him the bag. "i brought snacks too," you add.

"oh nice," he replies and opens the bag to peek inside while you climb into his apartment. "my professor said the movie is a good one," he mentions while going to the kitchen.

you slide the window closed. "hey, as long as it isn't scary, i'm down for any movie," you reply.

you join vernon in the kitchen and plate the food you cooked. vernon brings the plates over to the coffee table while you make yourself a cup of tea. once you're done, you sit down on the floor and start eating your dinner with vernon while the movie starts.

—

"thoughts?" vernon asks you as the credits start scrolling. he lets them play since there’s music playing and small clips that appear along with the credits.

you shrug, "meh."

"what? really?" he questions you, clearly surprised by your answer. "that's it?"

"i mean, i feel like it was a pretty average movie. i'm not a movie buff like you, but it's plot was pretty standard. the character development was better than most though," you say to vernon.

"but even if the plot was standard, everything surrounding it was good. i think everything around it made it better," vernon replies. "and come on, that scene in the factory was pretty dope."

you think about the movie some more. you hum, "okay, the factory scene was cool but think about everything else, vernon. i can think of like five other movies that remind me of this one. as i keep thinking about it—"

you don't get to finish your sentence. why? because vernon had leaned in and kissed you straight on the lips.

when he pulls back, he sits back on the couch with a grin while you sit there gobsmacked.

"did you kiss me so i would stop dissing the movie?" you ask him after a few seconds.

he chuckles, "maybe, but more because you looked too cute," he says to you.

"...just go write your discussion board..."

"can i kiss you again?" he asks.

"...yea."

[multiheadcanons]

FLIRT WITH THE MERCS

scout: jeremy is stupid enough that he thinks most flirting with him is a joke, and is generally happy to play along. he is very used to being aggressively shut down, and doesn’t really give it much thought anymore. he will not get that you’re flirting seriously until he has agreed to a date. then it’s like it clicks in his brain. and he becomes a grade A USDA certified dickhead. “yeah, i got a date! with who? oh, you wouldn’t know ‘em!”. what an ass.

soldier: why are you trying to flirt with this man, first of all. you know this man can’t understand a literary device past a knock knock joke, right? compliments are shrugged off. he knows he looks good for his age. he knows he’s got stellar aim. he worked like a bitch to achieve these things. coy questions get unamused answers. what’s he doing after work? more work. he’s training. eating. cleaning his weapons. sleeping. if you want to flirt with him that bad, slap his ass. the yelp he’ll let out is humorous. but the grin he gives is better. you’ve opened pandora’s box, maggot. let him show you how to make a real advance.

pyro: you want to flirt— with pyro? are you ready to see a grown ass adult become a straight up tweaker, no dope necessary? they point at themselves in shock. are you talking to them? are you— are you talking to them?? the squeal, the giggles, the heavy breathing, they are genuinely shocked and taken aback, and incredibly flattered. will hug you very tightly, before running away. they’re squealing, they’re barely making it ten steps before they have to stop and catch their breath. they’re gonna write about this in their diary later.

demo: he acts like… a stereotypical man when you start flirting with him. have him giggling and kicking his feet and shit. he is one of those men who will beam when he’s told he looks handsome when he smiles. you can be a borderline creep to demo and demo will tuck his hair behind his ear and say “aw, you don’t mean that!” but just know… however far you take it, demo will match your freak. so tread lightly. or don’t! whatever you want to do!

heavy: heavy is uninterested and will shut you down the first few attempts. however, if you don’t take the hint, and he thinks he can get away with it, he’ll use your little crush to squeeze whatever he thinks he can get from you. regardless of what it is, he’ll start subtly, maybe an occasional flirt back, a laugh, a slight bow of gratitude. but then he starts asking you to do things for him. a quick delivery. retrieval of items. leaning in to ask you quietly. he’d be incredibly appreciative if you would oblige and do this one little thing for him. he’ll owe you. then it escalates. bury this body for him? he’ll come out and watch your back, don’t worry. oh, and he forgot to mention… the body isn’t dead. you mind taking care of that too? he just likes to see how far he can push you. what he can get from you, and when he finds your line in the sand, it is duly noted and he is done with you until further notice. he did enjoy the sweet words though, undeserving as he may be of them.

engineer: he’s not as expressive as demo with it, but you can get him quite flustered if you don’t let up. not in the long con way, either, i’m talking family-bucket-20-piece-combo-no-biscuit-no-drink-two-sides-mukbang do not let up. “you’re looking good today, dell! ass looks great in those overalls, whatcha got going on later?” you can watch a man turn into a tomato in real time. he short circuits. lets out an awkward laugh, thanks you kindly, and gets the hell out of dodge before he says something stupid. but he’ll think about it all day. it’s a big mood and confidence booster for the week. and dell gets real sweet when he feels good about himself.

medic: the first time you flirt with this man he side eyes you. hard. but he cannot hide the smile creeping on his face. he’s not shocked, but he’s a little surprised you’re looking at him that way. but he stays silent. he hates direct approaches, he finds it crass from anyone of any gender. but a thinly disguised compliment will give him pause. he’ll size you up every time, pondering if you’re worth the effort and the risk. especially as you up the frequency, and he decides you’re actually serious about this. if he wants to reciprocate, he might ask you to dinner. he will also write about this in his diary later.

sniper: “oh, thanks!” and no more outward emotional reaction. but it makes him feel good. he’s quite tickled. this is a team of pretty good looking guys, nice to know he’s a catch with the rest of them. a consistent flirt with him will result in him matching your interest, wherever you want to take it. he is not one to play the long game, if you’re expressing interest, he’s certainly interested.

spy: “well, thank you.” unlike his counterpart, this spy can play nice and gracious very well. he gets no enjoyment from playing haughty at other’s expense; but he does get an ego boost from flattery. he’s just better at being humble about it. he knows he looks good. he always looks good. his plans are the same as they always are. no he has no interest in changing them today. yes, he’s french. nice place to live until the tourists ruined it. stay away from paris. no, he has no family. he’s good on lunch. he’s heard it all, and what he hasn’t heard he’s mentally simulated, and he’s got formulated responses for everything. it gets old, and it is old to him after the third attempt. you cannot flirt your way into his heart.

[toyaslove]

HIII!!

I’m glad I can FINALLY request anything😭

Many writers have closed requests and there was no hurt -> comfort content of PJSK chars. Soooo… I’ll ask something

May I request for Toya and Akito (separate) with a depressed!gn!reader? Like the reader tries to commit suicide but Akito/Toya stops them?

Pretty pls~

A/N: HIIII SO OMG I LOVE UR REQ mainly cuz i already tried that 4 times lol... btw, there IS hurt to comfort pjsk fics, u just gotta search ^^ (I read all Toya fics around tumblr and there are some hurt to comfort :P) SOOO tysm for ur req I love it

Tw!!!!: Suicide, self-harm, cursing, ANGST

Pls look at the tw... (double checking)

Toya Aoyagi & Akito Shinonome (separately) x GN!Reader

Tags: Come get your summer pancake ginger:~ @mccnstruck , @maxident-xx , @miya-akane , @sentientsoil , @akitosheart

Come get your winter coffee addicted~ @sentientsoil , @miya-akane , @akitosheart

S-icide attempt

Writing style: story

(Again, check the tw's)

秋–くん🔥

It was late at night. Everything was spinning. You couldn't feel nothing, but despair, angst, sadness. Actually, did you feel anything? Was there anything in your heart right now? You couldn't cry, you couldn't feel anything. You were doped of medications, such as antidepressants, to not have these stupid thoughts, but whatever they were trying to do, they weren't working. Maybe if you went to a psychiatrist they would double your dose, wouldn't they? You thought of this. But... what if you don't need to spend more money on these? What if... you disappeared. Just. Did it. Why feel more pain? Why make your friends suffer while you're alive? It will be quick... Of course, everyone would be sad with your absence, but it would be less than a life-time, such as you bothering all of them daily... it will be less painful for both sides, won't it?

With this thought, your wrists dripping a red tone liquid, you look down your feet. You're on the 12th floor of a building, you look down with fear, cars and vehicles are passing in the road, but it won't stop you. You're shaking...

Then, the only thing you see is darkness. You close your eyes and you're ready to give a step forward, putting one foot on the air. You flinch when you hear a voice coming from behind you, a despaired and panting voice.

"What the actual fuck are you doing?!" – A familiar voice screams, a ginger figure appears in the rooftop, making you fall behind and gasp. The person was holding a messy piece of paper, the sight is familiar, your suicide letter.

"Are you crazy?! You know you could have died there!!!" – Akito speaks in despair and anger. He looks at you with a painful and worried expression, with a bit of rage. He sits in front of you, taking both of your hands in his.

"I... I just didn't want to... bother you anymore. All of you. I'm sorry" You speak in pain, you break down in tears. Akito, as he sees you in that state, frowns more, but his rage disappears. The only thing he does is wrapping his arms around you, as tight as he can, as if you were about to vanish (well somewhat you were (IM SORRY)

He's not really good at words, so he demonstrates his affection that way. But... maybe today he'll open an exception...

"Dang it... never do that anymore... never again. I don't want to lose you, please... I love you way too much for that to happen."

Akito speaks in the most caring tone he could. You have never seen him this affectionate, around anyone. Never ever. You can hear muffled and quiet whines coming from Akito while you hug him.

"If... if it will make you that way, I won't try it again..."

In the end, Akito didn't leave you for the whole night, focing you to accept him at your place... he can't handle you wanting to do this.

冬弥♥︎ (俺の彼氏) ❄️

You couldn't handle it. Everything was so tough. Everything. You couldn't breathe, it was hard. How are you going to do it with so much pressure? So much stress? You feel unlovable, you feel empty. Who would care if you died? I mean... they would cry for a while, but... later they would forget you. They always do, don't they? Your friends, family, people you care for... they all have a first place, and it was not you. You're just alive to bother, you're just letting people down, your presence was a nuisance, everyone only invited you to go out out of pure obligation. They didn't care at all. So, why would you keep being a weight to them? A pain on the ass? You feel so stupid, so helpless, so miserable. Everything is going wrong to you in your life, you see no future... so, why move forward to suffer more when you could just end it all? The pain would go away, your friends and known people would be happy after a while in the end... it would be less weight to you and to everyone else.

You keep thinking and thinking, all of this. Everything. Everything was so awful. You look at the train rail, waiting for it to come. You see a soft light at the end of the tunnel, it was arriving... you position yourself in the rail, close your eyes and wait. It will be quick, you thought to yourself.

It was arriving... it was closer and closer... your heart was beating fast out of fear and anxiety, but you knew it's going to be ok. Everything... Everything...

Seconds before the train passed in the rail where you were sitting, you felt a strong grip on your wrist, pulling you out of the rails. You could feel the drift from the train passing behind you. You open your eyes, to find a sight of a split-haired boy, looking at you with tears in his eyes, panting.

"W-what were you trying to do..." he speaks with his voice shaking and stuttering. The known sight of Toya, but different... you have never seen him this sad, this despaired, this scared... His eyes were watery, and his cheeks were also wet. He grips onto you and hugs you as tight as he can. You can feel his body shaking. Tears start to form in your eyes when you realise what's going on around you... Toya... what you tried to do... everything... he was holding your suicide letter tightly.

"What... what did you mean by... 'I won't be a bother anymore. It will be one less weight to your life'... What... what made you think that? You were never a weight, never. Did I do something for you to think that way?" – Toya speaks pulling away slightly from the hug, tears roll down his cheeks, he holds both of your hands tightly.

You shake your head, you speak quietly and painfully "I couldn't handle life anymore... I'm sorry... you haven't done anything wrong. It's just me... I think the meds weren't making effect, or my depression just got worse-"

Toya puts a finger in your mouth, he looks at you with empathy and pure care

"You don't have to apologise or explain yourself... just, promise you won't try this again... or this..." – Toya speaks, he takes your wrist in his hand, showing your scars, some of them fresh and some of them old.

"I care about you deeply... I don't want to lose you. I don't... I love you way too much to let you go"

He holds both of your hands tightly, as if you were to vanish within seconds. He wraps his arms around your waist and strokes your backs back and forth, a soothing and gentle motion.

"If... if that's the case... I'll try my best to also show you how much I care about you"

Toya, after that, will try his best to take smiles from you. Whatever if it's giving you gifts, hugging you, using words of affirmation, or making silly jokes, he will try his best. He also bakes a lot for you, your favourite things (and they're really, really good. Toya always think so much about you, he does his best to bake the best desserts and cook the best food for you ♥︎)

Later on that night, Toya brought you to your place and you two stayed in, playing games or doing anything that would make you happy and enjoy yourself. He will ask you if you two can cuddle, he would always ask if he could touch you in any situation~

Always remember... Akito and Toya will always be there to love you and care about you <3

They would never let something like this happen to you, you're too precious to them

Always have this in mind <3 stay safe

A/N: HELP ME I'm sorry if this got a bit too... uhhh... personal... cuz like I started adding some reasons to the reader's attempt of suicide, I had to think of smt and i ended up putting some of my feelings 😭 i hope u like it, stay safe guys <3 ty for sending me reqs and for the last 121 notes :P

[roo-bastmoon]

The Best Revenge...

Beloveds, I'm just gonna say this now to get it out of the way...

Over the next two to three months, we can expect the cult and shooters to kick up a huge fuss over the Are You Sure series. I mean, protest trucks and hashtags and hate trains and all the rest. It's already starting to get nasty.

So let this Dope Old Person give y'all some unsolicited advice:

Let the toddlers have their tantrums. It's all they are developmentally capable of, anyway. Just let them have their meltdowns and writhe all over the floor.

You know what would be better than clapping back or getting into arguments? Just responding with sheer, naked, unbridled joy. Just delighting in every precious moment of that show. Make it very, very clear that such content is absolutely seen, understood, and welcome.

Spam antis with gifs and clips. Squee all up and down the timeline. Never shut up about how awesome it is. If some asshole comes after you or Jikook, just act like they asked you to fangirl with them and only respond with ample evidence of Jimin and Jungkook smiling and giggling and enjoying the hell out of each other.

Spread the love. I think Jikook would like that.

Don't get down in the dirt and start slinging mud. Don't bring up other members. Don't write haters paychecks by paying them with your time and attention. Do not waste energy arguing with screaming toddlers. Let them cry themselves out. They have to learn to self-regulate.

Meanwhile, SQUEEZE every last DROP of fun and happiness out of Are You Sure and let Jikook's undeniable bond speak for itself. Focus on giving it a warm and celebrated debut, without any distraction.

Let them keep being jealous.

We got something worth holding on to.

Love, Roo

[sleepanonymous]

Remember when I made this post talking about Jaws? A good friend found one for Thread The Needle.

George Lever, the man that you are.

Intro

Sleep Token are different, like super major big time different. Softly spoken pop aesthetic meets discordant percussive metal different. Different is great. It tests and pulls at the boundaries by which we choose to asses music by. All in all ST (sleep token) is very close to my heart in terms of what its intentions are and how it tries to achieve it. I worked very closely with ST on the song framing and ensuring that every phase of each song was being presented in the way they originally intended. Much like a prog record there isn’t any sense of an ABAB type repetition that’s common in pop music, instead it’s a textured journey down multiple avenues and pathways, showing and highlighting different perspectives of the song along the way. I could write about this project for some time but I’m very aware that this is supposed to be an engineering / mixing focused blog so I shall move on.

Tracking // Drums

In terms of the space, we ended up at Monnow valley. This happened to be my first ever solo flight session at MV, although nerve wrecking I think it came together rather harmoniously without any negative turns.

The initial outline from ST was to achieve as much as humanly possible without the need for rigid quantisation after the fact. Every play / part, had to emphasis what else was going on. Tricky, but great fun to achieve.

Tracking // Guitars & Bass

All tracked back here at G1, using an array of options like the Kemper, Axe fx and plugin amp sims. The attention wasn’t so much on ‘authentic amp sounds’ but more along the lines of ‘how cool can this sound, can it sound more cool?’ Quite a different approach considering some would be more enclined to try and ensure that ‘this does definitely sound like a 5150’ over what it actually does for the context that it is sitting within (the songs DNA)

** Cool bit, for the end part of TTN, the guitars were tracked 6 times. 3 different takes / tones each side. More tone, more drone.** – George

Bass, I think is a combination of my jazz bass and some software stuff, obviously my poor 4 string won’t handle going down to drop ZZZZ so that’s when the synth stuff needs to kick in, however I do believe at those parts the Jazz is playing the upper octave for that sense of movement and clank.

Tracking // Vocals

How freaking amazing is this dudes voice? Seriously? I used a different mic for each song, each time he sounds amazing. This is what it’s all about, right here. A great voice always sounds great. We used my modded Oktava m319 for one track, the AKG c414 b-uls for another and the sm7b on one more. Who cares what processing went on, just listen to how mega dope his voice is. Can you tell I appreciate his voice? Haha!

Gear Used

Drums – Tracked by G1 at Monnow Valley Kick In – Beta91a + D112 Kick Out – U47 Snare Top – 57 Snare Bottom – 441 Toms – md421 HH – 7b Ride – c451 China – c451 OH – Modded Oktava mk012 in ORTF RM1 – R121 RM2 – C414 RM3 – U87

Guitars Kemper / Driftwood Profile Pack (along with other bits and bobs too for the multi tracked parts) Bass Dingwall Darkglass > FabFilter Saturn

Vocals Different mics for different sections C414 BULS / 7B / Oktava m219

[therealcocoshady]

U know this videos of Eminem Concert Core on Tik Tok? I keep thinking about it but with us (Reader/YN) that has the same personality as him and embraces his strange with her own strange

(Part in bold: Famous audio on my country's tik tok translated badly; i dunno how this audio is on english)

Em: I think it's going to start raining.

Reader: I doubt. I'm wearing a red panty for lucky

Em: Me too

Reader: You are in a red panty?

Not a request or anything, just an idea that popped up in my mind (but if u write it /j)

Ugh, you have no idea how much I love this. These eminemcore videos on TikTok live in my mind rent free. Please allow me to elaborate on how dope it would be as a concept 🙊

Most of the time, especially nowadays, he appears calm and composed and public. Three decades and 16 years of sobriety after getting his start, he's not as chaotic as he used to be. He's not as quick-tempered, not as angry and erratic. But the way he lets his goofy side come out, on stage and behind the scenes, you just know that it wasn't just the drugs making him wild. If anything, being sober makes him a better agent of chaos.

He's stated in interviews that, sometimes, him being high or wasted would make his mean and angry side come out. Now that he is sober, people around him probably don't fear his bad temper as much. However, sobriety doesn't mean he has become any easier to put up with. If anything, he is just as insufferable. Maybe even more so, now that he has more wit, so his jokes and the playful jabs he throws at people are even more creative. You can just tell the weird, sometimes intrusive thoughts in his brain win, sometimes, and he's just happy to let them.

Now, some people would think that, as he gets older, maybe he'd calm down (no) or that he just needs to find himself a lady who keeps him grounded. After all, maybe he's been single and alone with his weird brain for too long. Imagine their relief when he says that he has, indeed, met someone who makes him happy (finally). Only for the relief to be short lived as they finally meet her and realize that he really has found his match. Not only does she put up with his antics but she's just as freaky. Weird humor. Crazy ideas. Pranks. The things Marshall says that leave people puzzled, because they don't seem to make sense... She gets them. When he makes an obscure reference, she gets it too. And they really don't know if they should be happy for him or scared that it's actually a sign of the apocalypse. 🙊

Or, imagine that Reader meets some of his friends. Maybe she's just moved to Detroit, or they meet at an event/party. And as they get to know her, they can only think about how much of a female version of Marshall she is, in the way that she is unapologetically weird and freaky. They really like it, though, because it makes her really funny and entertaining. She's really cute, too, and overall, they agree that she'd be a great match for him. They just don't know if they should try and play matchmaking or act in the best interest of everyone's energy levels and try to keep them away from each other. 👀

[sourbites]

do u write for jason? if so could you do a story where reader is a roadie on the damaged justice tour and she and jason get super close and eventually they both go to a party together and hook up ??? thank u :)

Whiskey and Coke

thanks for the request anon! this went a little off the rails (i got too excited by their dynamic, whoops), but i hope i did your vision justice! i hope you enjoy :)

The party wasn't as fun as promised.

Maybe that's because you're one of the few people here who aren't doped up on stuff. Honestly, even the beer is kind of awful. An after-party in the San Francisco area comes with a little prestige these days, but so far, it's been a drag. You weave through crowds of people, trying to get to the bathroom. You catch snippets of people's inebriated conversations. Some of the sentences you catch are quite amusing. You recognise a few half-lidded faces, too, some of your fellow crew members. Looks like you'll have to do most of the heavy lifting tomorrow, considering these princesses would rather spend tomorrow morning hurling up their three, four, or five shots of whiskey.

"Here to keep me company?" Jason dimples at the sight of you, his blue eyes catching on the warm lamplights throughout the main floor.

"Here to get away from you, actually," You joke, stepping towards him. Some band is in the corner attempting to play good music, and God, do you wish someone would turn their amps down. You lean closer into his bubble of space, trying to hear him better. Being around heavy metal concerts all the time hasn't been easy on your hearing. You know Jason's probably having a worse time of it than you, considering he's actually up there onstage.

"Told'ya you couldn't handle partying with the big kids, didn't I?" He riffs off of you, grinning. Jason's really good at bantering, and you know he likes it. He doesn't get many opportunities to do it with the other guys.

His body heat rolls onto you, also carrying over his scent. Clean, a little boozy and earthy. "So," You scooted closer, shuffling, dipping your voice into the warmth between the both of you. "What're you doing wandering around? Your prom date ditched you again?"

He laughs. Or chuckles, low and genuine. You catch a peek at his teeth, splitting his lips on a smile. "Just trying to find a drink."

You roll your eyes, amused. "They didn't set out any wine for his grace?"

"Doesn't seem like it," He frowns, his brows knitting together. God, he looks like a kicked puppy.

"How evil." You shake your head, sighing heavily with disappointment. Your breath ghosted down his clavicle, standing the hair on his neck up from the sensation.

Transfixed, Jason turns his shoulders sideways, leaning closer to you, arms brushing ever so slightly. Just giving you a taste. A mouth-watering taste. "I know." He agrees, wetting his lips. He watches you. Adjusts his pockets. "How'd you feel about cheering me up?"

⸻

Your hiding place is a loveseat in one of the powder rooms. Extravagant, yes. You wanted to go to the balcony, but the lingering thought of alcohol and heights not mixing well steered you otherwise.

Jason's knuckles brush your palm as he passes you the bottle of whiskey-coke you're sharing. The syrupy foam fizzes down your throat like butterflies in your stomach. Eat me, drink me, love me, it seems to say. Or maybe that's what you want to hear. The ceiling lights are warm and dimmed low, caressing the highlights of his nose and cheekbones. The bustle of the party seems to disappear behind the impenetrable, locked-from-the-inside door.

With the exchange of your drink, Jason leans closer into you. He tries to be subtle about it, hiding under the excuse that he doesn't feel like stretching every three seconds. But the way the drink sloshes in the glass tells you he uses a little more momentum than he needed.

"Y'know," He begins, propping up an ankle to rest on his knee. He turns to face you. You mirror his actions, falling into the plush cushion. "I'm really glad you decided to tag along tonight. It'd be an awful night without you."

Your heart stutters in your chest. Suddenly, looking into his pretty blue eyes all sincerely, is too overwhelming. You drum your fingertips on the cool glass neck of the bottle. "Is that why we're hiding in the ladies' powder room right now?"

He chuckles, interlacing his fingers that rest on his lap. His head tips back just a little. The warmth of the light catches on his brown hair, scattering through the strands like copper. "Exactly, honey. You're the only person worth being 'round right now."

You gulp, nervous. You mask it as thirst and take a sip of coke. Because you're nice, you give Jason the bottle. One hand curls around it. He places his mouth where yours was. His throat bobs as he gulps it down indulgently, his eyes forward, lashes fluttering. Fucking hell. He's got that cherub-sweetness like he can do no wrong, and yet, he indulges in every morsel of bought-in-bulk coke like it's not the ultra-processed, caffeinated caramel syrup he's savouring.

You could sit like this for hours. You just might.

Trying not to be weird, you try to think pure thoughts. "So why don't you just go to your hotel? Call it a night, you know?" You suggest.

Jason licks his lips. They shine in the light. Practically underlined. Looking so sweet, so delicious, peachy pink...

"Don't feel like it. I actually kind of like it here with you. It's really serene, don't you think?" He gives you a smile. Pushes the base of the bottle into your palm.

"Guess it's not about where you are, but the company you're with." You speak into the rim, barely sipping it. Just holding it makes you want to drink.

"Yeah." He agrees, speaking so softly that it unwinds that iron ball of anxiety within your guts. Spurred on by your silence, Jason talks again: "But seriously. I'm really glad you're here. You're a cool roadie."

You set the bottle down on the cold tile. You sit back up laughing. "Weirdo... Trust you to get all mushy at some random's party." You weave your words through giggles that bubble up your throat.

"Ow, watch it!" Jason places one hand over his heart. The other holds onto your knee. The heat from his palm sinks into you, tingling up your thigh. You hope your shudder was subtle. You suppose not, based on the way he tightens his (still gentle) hold on you.

Chasing the feeling that doesn't leave you feeling quite human, you lean into him. When your chest expands with an inhale, you brush against the side of his arm. He doesn't want barriers either it seems, because he moves that arm to drape over the edge of the loveseat, opening the metaphorical floodgates for you to pour into him.

"Cheer up, you big baby," You murmur, too aware of the suddenly tender atmosphere that you have no intention of shattering.

Jason gives you another gentle grin, reaching up to swipe your hair away from your face. No more hiding. You keen your cheek into his warm, sinking into his flesh. In the strangest way, Jason is familiar enough that you confuse him with the security that comes with being home. He is the threshold you cross where your shoulders finally relax and you lay on the warm frame of his chest.

Your fingertips are like an ocean against him, the shore. Constantly reaching and running away. You find purchase into his shirt and stare up at him, fascinated. You're stuck treading a thin line between wanting more and knowing that this should be more than enough. The question that seems to echo through your skull is, Should this feel so nice?

His fingertips brush against the edge of your jawline. "Can I kiss you?" His breath ghosts across your face, sweetening the air around you into something so hot you physically feel yourself melt.

With a brave inhale, you tip your weight forward. Both Jason's hands hook around the small of your back; your hands slide up, rounding out around his shoulders. It feels a little clumsy with the alcohol, a little intimate with nothing but the sounds of soft, hitching breaths in anticipation. The first thing you notice is that he's tense. And so warm that it feels as if he envelops you.

Mouths meet. In a slow, deliberate connection, all balmy and soft. Jason pours out a sigh, holding you by the hips, your breath shortening and closer to getting a taste of what heaven is painted of. It is between his lips, tucked under his tongue, and it glows and reaches down within you, tugging out all that bad and leaving you weightless, breathless, speechless. But not loveless. Your bones feel warm. Eyes closed to see that haze of colour behind your mind, your eyelashes flutter dreamily against the swells of your cheeks. Jason is just as hungry. Your hearts pound the same song. Beating that old hymn: I want, I want, I want. He breathes it into your lungs. A want that is sweet. It goes down your throat in a fiery burn.

Quite easily, Jason's lips slip down to kiss your chin. You giggle.

More than once, you'd imagined this. How Jason would cup your sides so cautiously as if he fears you'll spill out of the gaps of his hands. You've always wanted to unfold him from his seams; read the roadmaps of his skin. The idea is always the same: he'd scoop you into his chest and kiss you where it hurts — until it hurts. That part is very important in the scenario.

His kisses pool in your collar. His soft, wavy hair ghosts across your skin. "Is this okay?"

All the strength you had is turned into a weak, pleading nod. "More than okay." You confirm with enough clarity to surprise even yourself. He hums a bluesy purr, your personal siren song. That feeling— of bewitchment, fascination, so much want that you struggle to choke it all down, it soaks into you, beginning to take root.

You're rucked into his lap, your legs folded on themselves, kneeling around him. Something within you gives.

Jason's hair is in your hands, cupping the sides of his face, where you kiss him. On his cheek. Nose, lips, chin, throat. Jaw. Lips again. You don't know for how many nights you will be allowed to feel him like this. Maybe this is the only time. Anything could happen. You know that. The air around you is so intense that he quivers. Cock twitches in his jeans.

He makes a really hot noise: a rumbling, low groan of satisfaction. Still trying to be gentlemanly, he keeps his hands on your waist, though his fingertips itch to venture lower. Something within you squirms. You want more, more, more, always more, always hungry — starving for him. Jason excites you with his whole being. There's something wild beneath him that he's reluctant to peel away for you to gorge on.

You figure he'd stop you if he didn't enjoy this. And maybe that whiskey had more of an effect on you than you had originally suspected. Eager hands fumble beneath his shirt. Spurred on by you, Jason twists his fingers into the hem of your shirt. He glances up towards you, reading your expression.

Despite all the heat climbing in the locked room (and the fact that you can barely think through the smog of overflowing need in your brain), goosebumps prickle down your spine once you're shirtless. You kiss him again, grazing your teeth over his lower lip. Your hunger is entirely for him. Worn palms smooth up your spine, dutifully tracing along the methodical dips in your vertebrae. Jason rests a hand at the base of your neck, his fingers breaching into your hair from the back. With an open mouth, he glides his breath and the flat of his tongue over the swell of your tits still in your bra. You suck in a breath.

"Is this okay?" Jason immediately asks, again, caressing you as if you're something fragile. Something to be worshipped. You squirm against him, cagey, wanting the gritted sugar-sweetness of teeth and lips and tongue against you again.

"Jason," You begin, shifting restlessly, sat rigidly on the muscled curve of his thigh, "I appreciate it's the respectful thing to do — to keep asking — but come on." You urge, wanting to drag him down into the hazy smog with you. "Do whatever you want to me. I want it."

He wets his lips, no thoughts behind those swoon-worthy eyes. Then he grins. Pollutes any semblance of critical thinking left between you.

Clothes are palmed off. Gathered down or to the side. Pried from bodies as if it's suffocating.

Jason's hands guide your thighs closer, his jeans undone. The cold metal of his fly bites into you. You grasp at the carved-out shape of his bare shoulders, then tip your head back to take in a good breath. He slowly peels your panties away and off to the side, sticky with your ever-flowing arousal. A soft sigh escapes you. Jason leans to your neck. He presses his lips to your throat — wet and tingly with insistence. Those kisses snowball into something greater, climbing up to your jaw, glistening white teeth trapping your earlobe between his teeth. You tremble, pelvis pressing into his. Rough denim licks at the insides of your thighs, too close to your aching cunt for you to resist a shudder.

You coyly bump your hips forward, wanting to rock on him. You can feel the heat of his cock through his strained boxers. Your brows knit together.

"You wannit, don't you, gorgeous?" Jason hums. One hand scoops yours up from his shoulder, guiding it down to rest on the curve of his bulge. Overzealous, emboldened by the last dregs of liquor swirling around within you, you palm him. He grunts, which melds into a smoky chuckle that gets you giddy.

"Go on," He urges, "Take it out, baby."

You have to pause, because what the fuck? That is easily one of the hottest things you've ever heard. And the worst (or best) part is, you know in a few weeks from now, Jason will say those exact same words to you again. You'll be in front of the instruments, probably around a fellow roadie or worse: one of the members, and Jason will enquire about his bass. You'll point it out to him. You know, down to your very atoms, he'll give you this pant-dropping, sweetheart smile, and nod his head towards it, and utter the exact same words. Take it out.

Regardless, after you come back to planet Earth, you comply. You need both hands to gingerly unwrap him from his boxers. Hot and cock-heavy, he bites down on his bottom lip to keep from squirming. For a few moments, you just sit on his thigh, your legs bracketing his sides. His blushed tip leaks pearlescent precum, smearing onto your abdomen as it stands proudly tall. You have to swallow the drool in your mouth because he's handsome and funny and talented and honourable, and as if that wasn't enough, he has to have a pretty dick that's so deliciously girthy it has you wanting to squeeze your legs together.

Jason's palms scrape up your back, bathing you in heat, soaking up every naked inch of your skin that he's allowed. You fist his cock, the side of your hand connecting against his base. You inch down onto him, enveloping him in tingling, syrupy heat. He sinks into your cunt, you roll your hips experimentally across his lap, which is slick with you at this point. The moan at the top of your throat stutters out. Jason watches your pussy slowly take him in, swallow him whole, coaxing him with squeezes and velvet heat. The only word on his mind is pretty.

With his cock putting tender stars in your eyes, you let Jason guide your head to the juncture where his neck meets his shoulder. Your cheek smooshes into his trapezius muscle. He kisses your hairline, and you think you hear him cooing at you, but you barely hear anything over your own squeaks and the squelches of eager cunt falling into a rhythm that echoes off the tiles, no matter how hard you try to ignore said obscene sound. Your heart is thumping in your ears — it physically aches, sitting heavy against your ribcage.

Each time you press into him until his hilt is snug between your puffy sex, the air is rolled out of you, leaving you with nothing but breathy, high-pitched uh uh uh's as praise to feed him with. He makes do just fine, palming the soft globes of your ass, bracing his boots on the floor. Both strong arms curl around you, squeezing you into him.

The more you exchange inhales and exhales, moans and grunts, praises and compliments, the more something washes over you. A realisation. You'd been dying to feel this for weeks— months, even. You wanted his hands on you, you wanted to knit your bones over his, you wanted him to come teach you a gentler way to say your own name.

"Jason," You plead into the warm curve of his throat, muscles in your thighs burning, your hips wobbling against him. Your voice ripples through him, rides him hard.

He gathers all the breath in his lungs. "I gotcha, honey," He rumbles out. He locks you to him, lazily drawing the molten ache of your cunt flush against his base, stuffing you full of him. So full there's no room for slick, which bubbles out through the paper-thin seams of your tight-as-a-fist, pulsing sex in pornographically gushing dribbles, which seep and gather at the beginning of your ass, and his aching balls.

Your head is spinning. Moans leak out of your mouth. Jason half guides you and half bucks his hips up into you. Your chest bounces with each motion. Your eyes flutter closed, not unlike the way your heart trembles. Jason scoops you into his arms, and rocks you against his lap with so much velocity and viciousness that the tempo pounds within you, skin rippling on impact, and it's so powerful that you're genuinely stunned. As if he's been taking you apart brick by brick, and only now are you realising you are nothing but a wooden foundation of where everything once was.

With clammy skin, you bleed into him, breathless and crying praises around a frenzy of filthy moans. Your eyes roll around in their sockets, brainless with every bit of bliss that's bestowed unto you by each bite of Jason's cock bumping into your cervix. Your back arches, the soft shape of your tits pressing into his chest. Only skin separates your breaths. He could've gotten off on the sounds of your noises alone. But then he'd miss out on the tremble of your eyelashes, the wispy hairs that stick to your sweat-beaded temple.

You blur into him, the long muscles of his arms pin you by the hips into his own, taut with effort, just like his thighs. The sloppy, indulgently messy thrusts are fizzling into something breathtakingly good. It feels natural. Like home. Jason whispers how beautiful you are, how well you're taking him, how you're so sweet and so soft, and just like that, you're under his spell. Your orgasm bubbles up until it tips over.

You've got the moon in your eyes— just a bright flash of firey white that drives you mad with the craze of your tight heat squeezing and gushing and, and...

Jason's thrusts stop, his cock stilling inside you, yet he still persists. Pushing into you like there's any more unclaimed territory. You writhe. He cups the back of your head, stroking his fingertips into your hair. You can hear his heart pounding in your own ear that rests on his chest. His skin is as sweaty as yours with the effort, he smells so natural and salty. Your mouth fills with drool. In a long, unintelligible groan, Jason hits his high: filling what's left of your fucked-raw cunt with wave after wave of hot cum that you're half-sure leaks between the both of you. Probably got on the seats, too.

Those stars swirling in your head dissolve into tingles down your spine. You feel comfortably numb, proud of that satisfied ache deep within your belly. Jason, eager to continue his gentlemanly streak, rubs an open palm up and down your back to soothe you. His mind is put to ease as he feels your upper body expand with breath, shrinking with an exhale.

"Should've done that a long time ago," He murmurs, just wanting to speak to you. Although you have miles to go before you can crash at your hotel bed and dream. Probably about this exact moment.

You hum lazily in agreement, the low sound rolling and vibrating around in your throat. "If you want..." He shifts around, speaking up again. "We can, uh, make a habit of this...?"

Your chin rests on his collarbone as you look up at him through your lashes. Light bounces and reflects off of your eyes. You look almost impish. "Sure, farm boy." You grin.

[sergeantwoods]

oh lord. i forgot tumblr existed. my my. i forgot cod existed lmao anyways i was looking back at my old writing and i found some dope ass nikprice soooo here u go

—-

he doesn’t know what drew them together.

a small; simple ripple, causing a much larger wave, cascading down on them.

he supposes that will do, for now.

—

the first time they met, there wasn’t much time for introduction.

heaving, shuddering breaths, obnoxious gunfire, too much yelling and pain to realise, oh.

oh.

and when they had the time to acknowledge each other, it was over pained laughs, reassuring words, and too cold air nipping at their cheeks. at their words.

wasn’t much of a conversation; pain overcoming senses, and out like a light switch, he was. no time for a warning.

just with a bang.

bang.

————

next time they met, it was with a stilted greeting.

they hadn’t met on their own accords, just over work, as comrades, as pilot and lieutenant.

they didn’t know each other. just from a near-death encounter that was quick enough to not share any words of.

a small mission. to work together.

to get to know each other.

and, oh.

oh.

what a lovely person, he came to realise. not riddled with guilt, or shame. just love, confidence, happiness.

he could’ve been jealous. pitiful.

but all he felt was adoration.

he never knew he could feel that during the midsts of war.

that love; a fickle thing, could blossom in the thick of war. in these trying times, that something as delicate, as beautiful as love, could form from shared laughs over small fires in the depth of the night.

seeing each other making it out missions, unscathed, and the feeling of pure joy with being around him.

he didn’t know someone could feel such happiness associated with a single person.

it made him ache.

———

he laughed over the messed up english, over the frustrated words uttered in russian.

yet, a small smile always lit up his face.

his perfect, beautiful face.

can something; someone, be so beautiful?

it’s not fair.

the way he wants to reach out, grab his wrist. just hold his hand. he doesn’t know how to explain it. watch as the golden sunlight catches his sleeping, peaceful face while he rests.

the way the gunfire around them light his brown eyes into a beautiful orange, glistening with mad happiness.

and oh.

oh.

———

he watches the man as he sits at the plastic table comfortably. a coffee in his hand, legs splayed out in front of him. eyes closed, allowing his other senses to deepen in the morning light.

here the lieutenant watches, from the other side of the table.

he wants to brush his finger across the fair skin of his face, wants to let him know how much he loves.

his heart aches in an angry longing.

he lets it ache, just for now, in this moment, as he watches the one he wants, in the dewy light of dawn.

———

all good things come to an end.

anyone like him would know that.

he can’t stop himself from sobering at the thought.

so, here he stands, on the rough tarmac. his boot cladden feet scratch against the ground. a nervous buzz thrums throughout his body.

they’re waiting to see off the chimera.

it takes a few more minutes, a heavy weight beginning to lay on his chest, making his breath stutter a few times.

when they finally arrive, he can’t see him.

he sets his jaw.

that’s ok. not everything works out.

but you never got to say goodbye.

the lieutenant watches as his captain converses with an officer.

then he sees him.

his eyes were dark.

his shoulders drooped, as if some invisible force was weighing down on his shoulders.

a wave of sympathy hits the lieutenant.

the man didn’t deserve to look so sad, so defeated.

but, he watched as the pilot slowly looks up, and meets his eyes.

relief and joy replaces the sullen look casted upon his face.

the lieutenant watched as the taller man strutted towards him, the usual confident sheen now back.

“lieutenant,” came the cheeky greeting of the man, and he felt enamored. a sense of pride filled himself, at being able to capture the pilots attention.

“nikolai.”

his reply was quieter, and what meant to sound happy and glad, came out as raw and sorrowful.

nik’s response to the tone was immediate.

his lips pursed, a shaky breath inhaled through his nose, chest quivering.

and his heart ached.

not for a reason he’d prefer.

unexpected arms wrapped around his torso, and a head dropped down on his shoulder. he startled.

“i’m going to miss you, john,” was all that nik said.

john wrapped his arms around nik in return, and sense of relief, a sense of comfort, a sense of home was all that he felt.

he was embarrassed to feel tears welling in his eyes.

because, fuck, he didn’t want to leave.

he squeezed nik, and he tricked himself to believe that the taller man might’ve squeezed back.

——

they kept in contact.

phones were too hard to use to get in touch with each other, so letters were what they used.

pieces of parchment with quickly scrawled words was the way to keep intact.

to show their love.

——