#you all really thought you'd be free of this

[kekewrites]

tw. Dark content, noncon, dubcon, creampie, size kink, magic onahole/toy/fleshlight, coercion, mind-break, corruption, obsession, gaslighting(?), objectification(?)

part 2 of the onahole troupe

***

"Sweetie~ Are you already out? Come on, you can still keep going."

Hot... It's so hot.

Whining, your body continue to bounce on him, hole swallowing his fat cock. Sweat and cum staining your thighs, sticky and wet as it mixes with your juices.

Such a hot sight. His hands gripping your hips, helping you bounce on him and sometimes meeting your hips with his own, making you whine and sob.

You were so sensitive, having no idea how much time have passed. How many orgasm he pulled out of you.

"I'm helping you, remember?" He sat up, wrapping his arms around as he pulls you close. "Ha... You're so cute. That bastard won't touch you anymore, ok? I'm here."

Barely hanging on, you nodded as your ears started to ring. If there was still a rational part of you awake, you would've find his words suspicious, but you were just too dumb for that. Blindly trusting your friend, believing him with your being.

He promised to help you.

So why does it feel like you made the wrong choice?

That tiny rational thought of yours was pushed as you felt his lips on your own.

***

It was odd how the phantom disappeared after his help.

Your complexion improved, the shadows under your eyes fading as if the weight of their presence had been slowly draining you all along. Sleep came easier now, uninterrupted by restless nights and unwanted pleasure, able to focus studying without it whisking your attention away.

Sitting in class, you were finally able to listen without dreading for the touches.t was freeing.

You were glad you told him.

Smiling a bit, you open your cellphone as you think of hanging out with them. You really missed them, thinking about how you three rarely hang out nowadays. It used to be so easy to hang out with your closest friends, without having to plan anything elaborate. Just a quick text, and before you knew it, you were all together. But lately, it was about you two without your more or less busy friend. You know how much he took his studies seriously, often holding back to invite him whenever you discover a film you'd both like to watch.

Determined, you found yourself texting him, sending him a little message of, "Are you busy? Let's meet at the library when it's lunch time!"

You nervously shifted on your sit as you await his reply, a minute after you feel your phone vibrate.

"Sure."

You couldn't wait for the class to be over.

***

"Hey, what's up?" You heard his voice as he sat down beside you. Your usual hangout spot, comfort place, and your solace before those events happened.

Beaming, you turned to him, grateful for the simple presence of someone you're comfortable with.

"Are you done with your studies? I was hoping we could hangout soon, all three of us..." You speak, your confidence dipping down as you let out the last part.

Resting his chin on his hand, "Hmm... We have a quiz for next week in my major," He observes as your smile fades, "But I suppose, I'll make time for you," He swears it's like watching a dog wag its tail as he see you regain your smile.

It couldn't hurt to relax a little, it's been a while since you two hangout. He did notice how you were with that stupid guy in the past few days

You softly clap your hands, "That's great! Oh, we should do a movie marathon!" As you babble your plans, he couldn't help but notice how more... alive you look compared to before. He was still wondering why you were so troubled back then, but he's glad you got it solved out.

Humming, you started typing on the notes in your phone, making plans and listing movies to watch, throwing in snacks to buy as well. It was safe to say that you're really excited to be able to be with your best friends.

It would be just a fun night with the guys, right?

***

"Come on, don't be upset. Something probably important came out that he won't be able to come."

It seems that the three of you wouldn't be able to hangout, as the two of you sit on the couch.

Grumbling, you hug the couch pillow close to your chest as you glance at the text message left by your friend. It was upsetting but you couldn't be that upset since he rarely wasn't able to come in your hangout session, and since he's the one who helped you after all.

"Yeah, you're right. It can't be helped, I guess…" you sigh, trying to hide your disappointment as you sink further into his couch. The soft fabric and cozy atmosphere of his apartment help ease your mood a bit.

"I'm sure the three of us will meet up soon. Plus, the two of us haven't hangout for a while."

Come on, it's not so bad to be alone with him, you know?

"Yeah, that's true," you say, trying to shake off the disappointment. You steal a glance at him as he queues up a movie. It's been a while since the two of you just hung out alone like this, and despite the change in plans, it feels nice.

As the movie starts, you realize he accidentally picked a horror film—complete with dark shadows, creepy music, and plenty of jump scares. You’re both laughing it off at first, but the sudden shocks get you clutching the couch pillow a bit tighter, scooting unconsciously closer to him.

The atmosphere shifts when an unexpected scene appears—a moment that’s more... explicit than either of you anticipated. You feel your face heat up as you quickly avert your eyes, feeling a mix of embarrassment and tension settle between you. You catch him glancing away too, clearing his throat nervously.

What is he, five? Getting flustered with such scene, not like he hasn't done any worse than it.

"I... think I need to use the bathroom," he mumbles, standing up hastily and heading out of the room, leaving you alone on the couch.

You’re left there, pulse racing slightly as you try to shake off the awkwardness.

This is bad, you suddenly remember all of your other friend's help. Clutching your legs close, you try to avert your attention somewhere while waiting for your friend to come back.

Though, you felt your stomach drop as that familiar and unwelcome touch came up.

***

What the hell is he even thinking?

He tries to find his reason as he stares at the onahole on his hand, that idiot's gift to him. It's been a week since he had last use this thing, yeah it felt good and feels like the real deal but after one use he never touched it again.

So why the hell is he using it while thinking of you? The same girl who's sitting on his couch right now, in his apartment?

His eyes glance at the lube on the counter, putting the wet lotion on his free hand. It's your fault he got hard, you were too squirmy and... cute. That shitty horror movie wasn't even that good with the corny soft porn scenes but you... were just having an effect on him. So damn shy and innocent reactions, he needed to get out before he'd lost his composure and pounce on you.

But he's not a brute, no he isn't like those rabid animals.

Imagining does not count, no, no, he's only letting his frustration out.

So with the touch of his fingers, rubbing the entrance of the onahole he let himself go.

***

Jumping from the couch, you looked around frantically as you felt that horrifying touch on your nether region. 

That's impossible! You though he already fixed it!

Silently crying on your hands, you tried to keep your noises.

You've experienced that ghostly touch countless times however this time, it felt a bit calculative yet desperate, as if another entity was touching you. It felt weird but you can feel how different this one was touching you.

Is there another ghost who's harassing you?

Will it ever go away?

You cried as you felt something big goes inside you.

***

Shit, he forgot how realistic this onahole was. When was the last time he used it? Weeks ago? He doesn't remember but he might use it again now. Since his darling is always inviting him to hangout, this little gift might save him from pouncing on you when you're just a little too cute for his liking. Not only that but because of the hectic projects and assignments coming in, he hasn't had the time to relieve himself.

His thrust is fast and uncaring, yet a bit desperate for release. He felt himself feeling more sensitive as he imagine if this was your cunt instead, squeezing and twitching around his cock. He loves how automated this thing was, his mind just running wild as he imagines you sitting alone in his couch unsuspected of his vulgar and filthy thought of you. It's wrong but it damn this onahole just feels so right.

Slamming himself on the tight hole, he pinch the little clit and felt the walls squeeze tight making him come undone. Hissing and twitching as his cock shoots down his massive load inside the toy. What a waste, it would've been better if he could shoot it down your womb. Exhaling, he slowly pulled out of the toy, savoring the way the wall clung on his shaft before his head pops off.

Fuck. He's really a goner now. 

He's no better than a scumbag for letting his mind wander to thoughts about his best friend, his childhood friend… his first crush, his first and only love. He remembers how he was when you two first met—a boy who struggled to connect with anyone. He didn’t see the point in making friends, preferring to stay on the sidelines, reserved and detached.

Though, him, was the exception as both of their parents were business partners and have good relationship with each other. It's only natural for them to build a connection, solely for maintaining good connections with their business partners. Over time, he realized how strangely alike the two of them were, as if they shared the same quirks and preferences.

Well, he shouldn't think of that while thrusting his dick on a toy but he can't help but reflect on the way they are alike. He certainly knows, that guy shares the same affection he has on you, and he hated how he can't feel jealous because... he's fine with sharing you if it's him. But he's a little pissed at how you two were hanging out lately, he only have himself to blame by taking his studies seriously unlike that guy.

That's not important now, he has you in his room alone with no one else to ruin your moment with him. Shit, he felt the toy tighten around him.

His mind goes blank as he felt himself getting closer.

***

"Hey, sorry I took a while, but I'm... back?" he said, sitting down on the couch. His voice trailed off, quieter and confused, as he noticed you hugging yourself with your head hung low.

"What's wrong?" he asked immediately, placing a hand on your back as he tried to see your face. His eyes narrowed as he waited for your response, only to widen when he saw your tear-streaked face.

"I-It... touched me again..."

"What do you mean?"

And you broke down, crying as you told him about the phantom.

Any sane person would be skeptical, hell they would probably put you in the asylum for the things you swore happened to you. He'd get you help if it weren't for that one specific detail, an oddly timed and complete coincidence. Where that phantom touched you the same time he had gotten the toy... and the way it touch you just minutes later he went to the bathroom.

No way...

Surely, it was just a coincidence...

He supposed testing that theory wouldn't hurt.

With a lousy excuse of getting you a glass of water from the kitchen, he went straight to the bathroom to take that toy, sure it was big enough to be seen by you, but the way you were staring down on the floor as you quietly sob made it easy to sneakily place the onahole behind the couch pillow. Close for his hand to touch but unnoticeable from your teary eyes.

His hand goes behind the pillow right where the toy is.

"Ah!"

It can't be... Such an impossible story.

"J-Just now... it touched me!"

His finger went in.

"No! It went inside...!"

This is crazy.

He knows it's wrong but watching you panic and look around with frantic and terrified eyes made his cock throb. Not knowing that the source of your trouble being right in front of you made it immoral, so bad, and it made his cock harden.

"Hey, I'll... chase out that bastard for you." His wandering finger pulls out of the toy, his other hand cupping your tear stained cheek, "You don't have to worry anymore. You said that guy made that phantom disappear, right?" He sweetly cooed, a rare tone in his voice, "Just trust me on this one like he'd done with you, yeah?"

Your back gently hits the couch as he straddles you, "Be a good girl and relax, I'm just going to help you."

Doubt and wariness swirls in that doe eyes of yours. He can see the uncertainty in that stupid head of yours, but he knew you'd agree with him. You always do.

"O-Ok... Please help me."

And he's right about that.

You're just too trusting, aren't you? Stupid girl.

It's your fault he's like this to you.

All your fault.

There’s a faint metallic click as his belt buckle comes undone, and the soft rasp of fabric follows as he frees himself from his pants. His cock springs free, the swollen head brushing against your inner thigh. He can't believe he's finally doing this. The girl he ever wanted right beneath him, all bare and for him to ruin.

It's fucked up how he doesn't feel guilty for doing this, doesn't feel guilty as he rubs his tip on your wet entrance. Everything about you is soft, the only thing he's afraid to do is to bruise your pretty skin. He can feel your breathe quicken, you heart thumping in anxiety and he smiles at that.

"I'll be... gentle." For now.

The blunt head nudges against your entrance, the slick heat of your hole enveloping him inch by inch as he presses into you slowly. Fuck. It's completely different from a toy. He wished he'd done it sooner, the walls of your inside and the wall of the toy was like night and day. His cock pulses within them, the heat and tightness driving him to the edge of his patience. Hissing in pleasure as your walls clenched around him.

"So cute..."

With that, he leaned down, his lips pressing against you. His tongue invaded your mouth, claiming you, owning you, just as his cock claimed your body. He knows he should let you adjust and wait for you to be ready but hell he'd wait for more than a second. Setting a fast pace, fucking into you with abandon, his hand gripping your hip hard enough to leave bruises-- the one he was dreaded on doing. He panted, his head thrown back in ecstasy. 

If it were that easy, he should've done this sooner. Manipulated that stupid head of yours, your naivety being the one who'd get you in trouble when you were younger.

It was different back then when he was alone. Socializing was unnecessary and draining, didn't have any purpose or value to him. He supposed having one friend is enough, he didn’t have patience for others, especially kids his age who, to him, seemed immature and exhausting.

Then you came along with your bright smile, bold laugh, and endearing quirks. You weren’t stunning or wealthy, and your background was humble—a stark contrast to his world. And yet, every time you called him by that silly nickname you made up, something in his chest stirred, an ache he couldn’t ignore. A foolish girl, treating him as if he were just another friend, another kid to play with.

So why can’t he push you away? You're just like any other kid who wants his attention. So why is it so hard to say no to you?

You're the one driving him crazy. So you only have yourself to blame, this is only happening because you're letting him. You're the one doing this to your self.

He could feel the pleasure building, the pressure in his balls as he neared his release.

"Be my onahole, ok?" He demanded, his voice rough with lust. He needed to hear you say it, needed to know that you understood.

Your mind was swirling, head foggy as the pleasure was starting to mix with the confusion. As your cries grew louder, body writhing beneath him, he felt his own orgasm approaching. He could feel the heat building, the tingling in his toes as his balls drew up tight.

O-Onahole? What's that? What is he talking about?

"Everyday, you'll be my onahole." he panted, his words punctuated by the sound of flesh meeting flesh, the obscene squelch of his cock pumping in and out of your pussy. "I'll save you from that phantom, ok?"

I don't know anything....

"Ok?!" he warns, hips losing their rhythm as his climax approaches, "Shit...!"

"Ah! I-I will! I'll become your onahole!"

With a final, brutal thrust, he buries himself to the hilt inside, his cock pulsing as he empties himself deep in your womb. He holds you tight against his chest, grinding into you to prolong the waves of pleasure.

"Fuck, you're so good for me," He praises breathlessly, peppering your sweat-dampened neck with kisses. "Taking my cock so well, milking me dry. That phantom is gone now that I'm with you."

All you could feel was the light kisses trailing on your neck to your cheek and finally on your lips.

"One more time? I mean you are my onahole now."

***

"Wow, you didn't hold one bit eh?"

His eyes narrowed as he saw him standing on the door with a smug grin.

"What are you doing here? I thought you wouldn't be able to make it?" His tone accessory as he cleans up the aftermath, gently tucking in your passed out figure on the bed.

"So defensive for what?" He chuckles, sauntering as he glance at your peaceful fresh-fucked face. Such a lovely sight. He  licks his lips at that but for now you'd need to get your beauty rest after a rough day. "So, did 'ya like your present?"

"..."

"I'd take your silence as a yes then." Giggling, he places his hand on his shoulder, "I knew you'd like it I mean, we are similar in taste after all."

His jaw tightens before sighing in defeat, "Where did you even get that toy?"

"Oh, some shady website~! I was planning to buy another one but the website mysteriously disappeared!" He exaggerate his movements which earned a grimace from him.

"Shut up, you'll wake her up."

"No, she won't. You made her pass out, how ungentlemanly of you."

"Says you."

"Whatever, I came to ask you a question," His hand drop to his side, his smug smile still on but something sinister behind it, "So, we're going to share, right?"

The answer should've been obvious but it was hard to let the word out of his mouth. Was it pride or possession?

"Yeah..."

"I knew you'd say that."

"But I want her on Mondays."

"Oh brother, why pick the worst day?" He grunts in disappointment.

"Because it's the worst day, I need her on that day."

[deathbxnny]

Loved your writing of arcane characters saying things they regret during an argument. Would you be willing to do a version with Jayce, Viktor and Silco? I apologize if you don't prefer to write about these characters, you can ignore this

Arcane men saying things they'll regret during an argument. | Viktor, Jayce, Silco x Gn!Reader

Oh, I absolutely am willing to do that, Anon!! These are going to be pretty irredeemable, though, so there is not going to be a part two to this... anyways, enjoy!!<3

Content: Season 2 spoilers!!, heavy angst, hurt/no comfort, break ups, swearing, gaslighting, toxic behavior, sfw

Reader has no mentioned pronouns.

((Not proofread))

》VIKTOR

"This... isn't you anymore, Viktor. A-And I refuse to keep lying to myself like this either!" You hissed out one night, unable to keep it in any longer. You were losing your mind in this compound of his, unable to understand how seemingly no one was able to recognize how wrong everything was. People who were "healed" by him weren't the same after. They turned into robotic and uncanny husks of their old selves.

A terrifying sight that unnerved you deeply. And only you here.

The nail in the coffin was perhaps the skeptical appearance of Councilor Salo. Never in your life had you ever seen him give a damn about anyone but himself. He lived a life of riches and materialism, far from the selfless and minimalistic lifestyle found here. But after your boyfriend healed him of his inability to walk, he suddenly preached the same ideals that everyone else did.

Peace, love, and community.

Those were the important pillars of this idyllic place Viktor had created, and yet you couldn't see past the clear red flags that weaved themselves in their white attire. You were never much of a genius like he was, but it didn't take much brainpower to understand that this was not a great place to be in. No matter how hard he attempted to convince you of that.

"... I'm sorry you feel that way. But I'm afraid I can not follow your reasoning for this claim. I am myself... just someone greater. More meaningful. Isn't that beautiful?" His voice was so gentle and patient in comparison to yours. Something that wasn't unusual to him. But the way he used that tone now made you sick. "Terrifying is a better word, actually... Why can't you see that this is just wrong? You're not healing anyone-" "-But I am. Look around you. Is that not enough for you to finally believe me, my love? I want to create a better world... one in which we can live freely together." Your mind spun, his words ringing in your head dangerously. And you hated every second of it.

This isn't the man you loved anymore. He must have died that fateful day when the sky fell from above, and he covered you with his body to save you. His last act of kindness as your boyfriend and lover before he perished and left behind whoever he was. And you'd be damned if the last good memory got tainted too.

"No. I will not let you play with my mind anymore. I've had enough." You pushed past him, wanting to finally escape this borderline cult. Originally, you had only followed after him because you couldn't bear being without him. Jayce was right, though. He really was different now.

"Hm... it seems like I was right about you after all." You stopped in your tracks yet didn't dare face him. "You truly are not worth saving... you can't grasp the beauty of what I have made. I suppose everyone's claims for your low intelligence were, unfortunately, right. What a shame." How could a devil have such a soothing, loving voice? Why did the monster that now lurked in your shadow have to have your lovers face? The cruelty was too much to bear.

Who would have thought that you'd finally leave him for good after all the years you've taken care of him? This moment felt so surreal and yet ironically freeing as well. The end was near. "Did you... ever even love me?" You asked aimlessly, but didn't wait to hear his answer.

Perhaps if you had, however, you would've seen that sudden spark of surprise in his eyes, as you slipped out of his fingers for good at last.

》JAYCE

You had looked everywhere for him. And after also asking everyone under the sun if they had seen your boyfriend, you had eventually determined that he must've somehow gone missing. Worried sick, it pained you knowing that there wasn't much you could do either, considering that everyone was too busy getting ready for a borderline war and Caitlyn became unreachable as a result. Yet just as you began to lose hope, your dear lover finally returned... but he wasn't the same.

He didn't look the same, nor did he act the same, in fact. He looked so different that it even visibly startled you when you found him rummaging through his once shared laboratory. You had just returned from another wrap around the building in hopes of finding it, and whilst you'd consider yourself lucky this time around, all you now felt was genuine dread.

"Jayce...? What happened to you? I looked for you everywhere and-" You stilled at the intense look he gave you, his face flinching for a moment, as though his mind couldn't comprehend your image. Glancing over at his peculiar weapon of choice, you felt unnerved at how even that looked uncanny. The entire situation was unnerving you deeply, to say the least. "You... You shouldn't be here." He finally muttered, his voice deeper and colder than it ever was. Jayce always had such a fun and warm voice. If you didn't know any better, you would've questioned who he was a while ago.

"Hey... tell me where you were, okay?" You said, trying a more gentle approach as you neared him, eyes focused on his clearly injured leg. Had he been kidnapped? You doubted it. So what made him end up like this? Nothing you could come with explained his appearance. His hair and beard were way longer than they should have gotten in the short span of time he was gone, too.

Reaching down carefully, you tried to inspect his leg, but he seemed less receptive to the idea. Or so you assumed, after he shoved you away roughly and held the hammer to your face at impressive speed. His eyes were glossy, as though he wasn't entirely all there. He was reliving a terrifying moment in his mind, unaware of the horror you were going through. Never could you have ever thought of ending up in this position with him. "Jayce! What the hell are you doing-?" "-Get away! I know what you are... you've been sent by him too, weren't you?" You let out a shriek when he swung the hammer at you, only giving you a fraction of a second to jump out of the way.

Falling onto your behind, you quickly crawled backward and away from him, tears welling up in your eyes. Your scream seemed to at least wake him up, though, as he finally lowered his weapon and blinked at you in surprise. "Fucks sake! What is wrong with you?" You yelled out, yet as fast as his face softened, it hardened again. "... Sorry... I need to leave." Quickly making his way past you, he only barely escaped your presence before you grabbed onto the fabric of his pants. "Why? Where are you going? Why can't you tell me anything?"

The look in his eyes made you shrink away. This wasn't your Jayce anymore. "... The future of everyone in Piltover hinges on me being there on time. Now, make yourself useful for once and get out of my way." Shaking you off harshly, he left you crying on the cold floor of the once lively laboratory, not once looking back.

》SILCO

When you first met Silco, you were both still leading simple lives in the last drop with his brother and all of your other friends in Zaun. The lanes were harsh and, at times, cruel, yet you fought through the agony of it all together. Years down the line later, you find yourself still reminiscing on those heavenly days, particularly those of your lover who had turned for the worst in the time being. And the question of why you didn't listen to Vander's warnings came to mind again then. Perhaps you were just too used to excusing everything his brother did, especially after he had attempted to drown him so horrifically, which left him permanently injured.

But even so... why didn't you just listen? Why did it take so many years for you to finally throw the towel and leave for good? Finally realise that the man you loved was a monster? A disgusting and evil monster who was willing to use the plight of others for his own gain. And for what? Money? Fame? Power? It was all an ego trip you had far more than enough of. Zaun was his playground, and an escape was impossible. You'd be, however damned if you didn't at least try to anyways. Even if just in Vander's honor as a long-awaited apology.

Pushing past the crowd in the stuffy, full Last drop, you finally reached his office upstairs. Not caring about formalities anymore, you knocked and opened the door without awaiting a reply. If death met you behind it, then so be it. "Ah, darling, in a hurry today, aren't you?" "We need to talk. Alone." Short and straight to the point. Raising a brow, he shared a look with Jinx, who was just done giving him his daily "medicine". Oh, how you hated your lover's dearest creation. Shimmer. The exact thing that had ruined your lives for good. But you pushed away your disdain for the task at hand.

Giving Jinx a dismissive wave of his hand, you waited for her to be gone for good before taking a breath to speak. But Silco beat you to it. Always so painfully perceptive. "The answer is no, if you're here asking to leave. I refuse to let you go, dear. You have no one else but me after all. You wouldn't survive on your own." He always underestimated you, so this wasn't an all to surprising response. And if you were just a couple of months younger, you would have maybe agreed and backed off. But you were sick of his games.

"I didn't come here to ask for permission, Silco. I'm here to say goodbye." The slightest, softest crack at the last word gave you away horribly. You certainly didn't expect your feelings for the man to betray you, but even that won't stop you now. Said man just hummed in response as he stood up to face the window. His hands calmly lit a cigar, very much unbothered. But you knew that your sentence had gotten to him anyway with how his hand shook ever so slightly. Out of anger, most likely.

"So you think you can do whatever you want? Leave after you've spent so many years at my side? Your hands aren't as clean as you think they are, darling. Even yours are a bright violet." A reference to the shimmer vials on his desk. He knew how much you hated it, so this felt like a jab. A jab at the deep guilt you felt every day for enabling the death of all of your friends indirectly. If only you had stopped him from the start... then maybe you wouldn't have to feel the dread that ruined you from the inside anymore.

"I've accepted my flaws and sins a long time ago. I may not be better than you... but sometimes, in order to end the cycle, you have to walk away and leave some things behind." You suddenly felt so content, his cold and terrible words not reaching you anymore. You were so close to leaving. So close to leaving Zaun and Piltover like you've always dreamed. But Silco just scoffed in disbelief.

"Hah, don't give me that self-righteous shit... I've been there for you for so many years, dear. I've taken care of you, fed you, and loved you to my best ability for so long. The least you could do is be grateful for my kindness." "So you think I'm a burden?" The silence was deafening, but it was enough to confirm your long-standing suspicions. He had lost his love for you a long time ago. Perhaps the side that loved you so purely drowned in the river with him.

"... Goodbye. I hope one day you can walk away too." You turned and began walking out then, suddenly realising that it's finally over. Shoving your hands into the pocket of your coat, you felt the ticket for the skyship you had to take. "Don't you dare leave. Don't you dare it-" All bark and no bite as usual. There was no stopping you now, and he knew it. He was letting you go after all. You could just hope that one day he'd listen to your words and end the cycle, too.

What a shame that you won't be there at his side to see it, however... maybe in another life then.

[cosmerelists]

Ranking Cosmere Families Based Whether I'd Want to Attend Their Thanksgiving Dinner

If they, you know, actually celebrated Thanksgiving or if I existed in their universe and could attend. But anyway.

[Last Thanksgiving special: How They'd Cook a Turkey]

1. Kholin Family Dinner: No Thank You

Let the various eras of the Kholin family spread out before you: is there ANY iteration of that family whose Thanksgiving Dinner you'd want to attend? We have the Blackthorn Era, where Dalinar is getting drunk and trying not to make eyes at his brother's wife and also Sadeas is probably there. We have Way of Kings era where Dalinar thinks he might be going crazy and is always in a lowkey fight with Adolin. We have post-Oathbringer where you sit at that table knowing that Dalinar killed his kids' mother. Is there any moment when a Kholin family dinner wouldn't be awkward for a guest? Even Shallan being there isn't enough to win me over. I'm staying home.

2. Kelsier's Crew: Sure!

I think a holiday dinner with Kelsier's crew would actually be delightful. I think that whatever else they had going on at the time, they'd make an effort to put that aside and have a good time.

3. Kiin's Family Dinner: Hell yeah

Kiin (Sarene's uncle in Elantris) is canonically an amazing cook. Like, I'd LOVE to be at their family dinner. Plus, Sarene seems to have a nice time hanging out with them. Sure their kids squabble a bit, but nothing major.

4. Stormblessed Family Dinner: M-Maybe?

I feel like this is strongly era-dependent. Join them when Kaladin and Tien are kids? Yeah, I think that would be all right. There might be tension between Lirin and Kaladin, but Hesina and Tien are there to defuse it. After the two kids are taken to war? I-I'm leaving that couple alone to grieve, I think. Post-Kaladin-Radiant time? That's REALLY book-dependent. Got weird between Kaladin & Lirin for a while there. I don't want to be there for their yearly argument about whether it's ever okay to kill someone. Maybe I'll just help Hesina in the kitchen.

5. Tress Family Dinner: Definitely!

Yeah! Tress is a great cook, her parents are AWESOME, and if Charlie is there too, all the better. Like, this one is a no-brainer yes please.

6. Bridge 4 Dinner: Yeah!

Especially if it's post-Radiants, so that (a) we're not all enslaved in Sadeas' war camp and (b) there are women too. I bet Rock's Thanksgiving stew would be delicious. Kaladin would be late, but you know what, it's okay. He's very busy.

7. Court of the Gods Thanksgiving Dinner: Maybe If I Were Younger...

Listen, I'm sure it's a raucous good time. There's lots of food, it's really good, everyone looks hot, and everyone is very drunk. Not REALLY my scene, though. I might go if I were invited, but if Tress's family had already offered, I mean...

8. Idrian Royal Family Dinner: I'll Pass

For one thing, I feel like the food would not be very good since my impression of Idris is that everything is...gray. But even beyond that, the family dynamics do not sound fun. I mean, their dad sold his least favorite daughter into what he thought was deadly sex slavery. Their mom doesn't even have a name. It just feels so awkward.

9. Noodle Shop Thanksgiving Dinner: Yeah!

Going out to eat is a great way to not have to cook for Thanksgiving dinner. And Design's Noodle shop--or even later under the new owners--feels like a great place to get some food. Depending on why I'm there, I might even get some free sympathy noodles if I have nowhere else to go! Y-Yay!

10. Lopen Family Dinner: Yes!

I definitely would say yes if invited to eat with Lopen and his many cousins. Remember when Elhokar was there for a minute, and Lopen's mother kept making him eat more? I am going to be SO STUFFED and it is going to be SO worth it.

11. Ladrian Family Dinner: Totally

I'd love to have dinner with Wax and Steris and presumably Wayne and Marasi and possibly MeLaan! I bet the place settings will be fancy and that I'll have to bone up on my etiquette rules--but then, Wayne will be there so surely my using the wrong fork will go largely unnoticed. Anyway, these people seem pretty fun to hang out with, and I bet the food and whiskey are both good.

12. Montane Family Dinner: S-Sorry, Can't Make It...

As much as I love Threnody as a concept, I don't want to hang out in a small circle of silver-ringed "safety" while knowing that murderous ghosts await any mistake outside. I just don't feel like it would be a relaxing time. Plus, you know, Silence's grandmother is literally a ghost in a locked room like right over there. That's a family dynamic I don't care to experience.

[makeyoumine69]

Patrick Bateman being a perfect switch | NSFW HEADCANON

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Patrick Bateman x gn!Reader; 

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆����: SMUT🪓

𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒: [MASTERLIST];

𝐀/𝐍: I know that sub!Patrick headcanon won in the poll I made, but since it was a pretty close one, I decided to write this! Probably I'll write sub!Patrick headcanon too, same goes for dom!Patrick, hehe. Have fun and I hope you like it!

Even though this man always wore an emotionless mask, there were many different faces underneath—you just had to know how to unravel them. And once you discovered the other side of his personality, the one that longed not to be in control but to be controlled, nothing would ever be the same. 

One day you would let him dominate you, but another day you would shamelessly ride his face, making sure he felt the weight of your body, every snap of your hips as you literally abused his mouth; his chin glistening with your cum mingling with his saliva as Patrick feasted on you like a man starved for ages.

When you accidentally brushed your finger along his puckered hole while giving him head and he literally melted from the unexpected but exciting touch, moaning something incoherent, but as soon as you stopped moving, the man literally gasped in despair, pressing his hips against your hand. "You seem to like this too much...am I right, my sweet boy?" You would ask, your eyes locked on his foggy ones, while your other hand was still pumping him in a steady rhythm, driving him crazy. "Yes...fuck..." Patrick's low whisper would be the only thing that mattered at that moment, along with the red tint that covered his cheeks. Jesus Christ, he looked so fucking hot.

This man didn't even have to do anything extraordinary, just exploring his real desires was enough to make everything hotter, steamier, more intimate. At one point you thought you shared a brain cell because Patrick could understand you without words. If you wanted to be dominated, ruined, reduced to fucking atoms—he would just give it to you. No matter where you were at that moment, Bateman would make sure your mind was free of all thoughts except the ones of his dick sliding in and out of you as he fucked you from behind, folding your arms behind your back and using them as leverage.

There was nothing wrong with giving each other what you both craved.

That single phrase that caused the fall, the words that brought you both to the point of no return, and when Bateman finally unraveled completely and allowed you to peg him, you hugged him from behind, spooning almost gently as you pressed your hips against him, brushing against his ear and whispering to him, almost like a mantra, to remember that moment—the moment when he finally trusted someone as much as he trusted himself. At first Patrick tried to be quiet, unsure if he could really be vocal, considering it wasn't exactly masculine, but as you began to stroke his throbbing cock, still moving inside his tensed body, he finally let go; his raspy, almost pleading moans echoing off the walls of his bedroom, and you thought it was the most beautiful sound you'd ever heard.

And you would never betray his trust because you cherished it like a treasure. 

Every time Bateman let you cross that line, you would make sure he got what he wanted, making him cum hard on his expensive sheets, milking his dick with your hand and stimulating his prostate at the same time. And then the two of you would share a lusty, hard kiss that would leave you both breathless, but still wanting more. Cleaning your fingers, you would let him taste himself before you changed positions.

Now you were on your back, spread out on the pillows, watching him trace his large palms over your torso, then go lower until you whimpered in need, arching your back as a huge implication for him to continue. And when his lips touched your most sensitive spot, you wanted nothing more than to fucking claw at his scalp and rub against his perfect face.

"Mmhm...you're so fucking perfect," you blurted out with your eyes closed, tingling your fingers with his messy, slightly wet hair. "I want you to...fuck me..."

Without words, Patrick would turn you over and make you get on your knees while he sat on his heels, giving himself a few lazy strokes even though he was already so hard again. Sucking on your neck, he would slowly bury himself inside you, his hands like tight ropes trapping your body attached to his, you would squirm like a caged bird if he didn't hold you like this, but this man knew you too perfectly.

"Tell me…tell me you love my dick," Bateman's request sounded so desperate, almost pathetic. But you didn't answer right away, just giggled in response, encouraging him to fuck you even harder. "Tell me, you slut..."

"And if I don't," you retorted cheekily, looking at him with your half-open eyes. "Would you kill me?"

Although you knew it would definitely get under his skin, his pretense of indifference to your jabs turned you on even more. The slap of his hand on your ass, the tugging on your hair—everything he did to make you surrender and submit was too much, too cute. Eventually you would play along and whimper, moan for him, praise his huge cock and tell him that no one ever fucked you better than him. 

But you would never admit that he fucked better than you, not when you had him writhing and begging for you. Hell, no. The power dynamic in your relationship was always shifting, the rain of power belonged to no one, because somehow the two of you found the perfect balance.

And you wouldn't give it up for anything else. Never.

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my writing community to know when I update!💞

[flemingology]

Hi !! :D Following your most recent post I wanted to request smth for Jessie . Basically reader is not used to celebrating Christmas since she had problems with her family growing up which lead to them never celebrating it in their household . Cue to now where Jessie and her are spending their first ever Christmas as a couple , Jessie invites reader to her parents’s for Christmas and it becomes the first time reader gets to celebrate it ? Just really fluffy mostly (idk if what I wrote made sense English is not my first language 😭)

home for the holidays ─ jessie fleming x reader

part of my christmas series. full masterlist here!

in which: jessie and her family are determined to change your mind about celebrating christmas

warnings: talks of a poor youth, poverty, financial issues, dysfunctional family dynamic but also lots of fluff, i promise

wc: 4.6k

a/n: first part of the christmas series! combined a couple drafts of jessie taking reader to celebrate christmas with her family. hope you enjoy!

Growing up, you missed out on a lot of things due to the precarious financial situation of your family. Your dad had incurred a work-related accident when you were three years old, leaving him bedridden with permanent spinal cord injury. Your mum worked 12 hours a day, 6 days a week, trying her hardest to muster up the money to take care of both you and your father. Nonetheless, your family struggled. You never experienced any of the traditional things that most kids did; no birthday parties, no holidays, no trips to the zoo or an amusement park, and certainly not Christmas. You dreaded the Christmas holidays. It confronted you with the dysfunctional family dynamic, never having the money to buy presents, let alone decorate the house.

The longer you found yourself in the terrible conditions in which you grew up, the more you promised yourself that you would try and break that vicious cycle. From the age of 16, you started looking for a job. You struggled, a lot of employers judging you based off your background, but eventually you managed to get a job at a local supermarket on the corner of your street. When you weren't at school, you were working, and when you weren't working, you were helping your mum with household chores. You didn't have any free time at all, but you kept reassuring yourself it would all be worth it in the end.

By the age of 20, you finally felt like you could look forward a little. You had finished school at 18, and now had been working full-time in the supermarket for 2 years, still helping your mum out with the household and even giving a big part of your income to her to help out with dad's care. Besides that, you opened a savings account for yourself, where you put the remainder of the money you made every month. You felt like you were slowly but surely creeping out the vicious cycle, paving the way for yourself to have a more positive looking future. You didn't have to take things day-to-day anymore. You started doing some charity work for OHOH: Oregon's Harbor of Hope – an institution caring for the homeless people of Portland. When you weren't on the clock in the supermarket, you went out there to help the volunteers. OHOH worked on giving homeless people a safe space, a community, and the essential services they needed to stabilize their lives.

You stumbled across the organization while browsing on the internet on a library computer, and you'd felt the fire in your belly to help them. You wrote down the address on your hand and went to check it out the following day, opening up about your past experiences and about how you thought you could aid OHOH. They took you in, welcomed you with open arms, and you had been one of the main volunteers there for the past three years now. But if anyone had told you that you'd meet the love of your life at one of their fundraisers, you would've never believed them.

OHOH organized fundraisers on every first Friday of the month. They were open for everyone who wanted to come check out the institution and help out – whether that be financially or actual engagement. That's where you met Jessie. Jessie, who also stumbled across the organization while scrolling through her socials. Jessie, who was so eager to help the local community. Jessie, who you bonded with the first time she came around and then she just kept coming. Every first Friday of the month she'd be there, claiming she was just there to help out, but she knew deep down that there was more to it than just helpfulness.

Jessie and you got talking on her first time visiting OHOH. You took it upon yourself to show her around the place, explaining her the ins and outs about the services you offered, Jessie listening to you with care and intent. Before you even realized, you started opening up about yourself to the Canadian. Conversation flowed easily between the two of you and you felt at ease, Jessie not judging you for any of the things you opened up to her about. It was late into the night when you two wrapped up, the only two people still hanging around at the fundraiser. You had an early shift in the supermarket the next day and you already knew you'd curse yourself for staying up late today. Jessie lingered a little while you locked up, and you caught yourself stealing a glance of her every now and then. You said your goodbyes then, parting ways with Jessie's promise that she'd be back next month.

And she was. And then again the next month. Jessie and you had grown closer over her past couple visits. You felt something warm and fuzzy coursing through your body every time you talked to her, a foreign feeling you'd never experienced before and you didn't really know what to do with it. Things with Jessie were easy. It felt like a fresh start, like a blank page ready to be written on. Jessie, on the other hand, cursed herself every time she left the fundraiser without asking for your number. She was in her head about it, thinking she might just be reading in to things, but she couldn't deny her feelings for you anymore. Not when your touch seemed to linger a little bit too long after she pulled you into a hug, not when you memorized the way she drinks her coffee after only making her one once, not when the way you said her name would make her stomach flutter in ways she'd never felt before. So she promised herself that next month, she'd ask for your number. And if you then didn't seem to be on the same page, well then at least she tried.

When next month came around, Jessie found herself trying to make an extra effort to look good on Friday. She usually wasn't really one to be very bothered about her outfits, but she caught herself standing in front of her wardrobe a little too long for what was just a fundraiser she'd been at multiple times. After a quick shower and freshening up a little, she made her way over to Portland's city centre, expertly navigating the roads to a place she'd visited frequently enough to know the way by heart. She noticed you from a little while away, talking to some of the other volunteers by the entrance. You spotted her too, giving her a small wave from across the street, which Jessie readily reciprocated. She scolded herself over how excited she got over the little gesture. She quickly made her way over, greeting everyone before eventually finding herself opposite you. You engulfed her in a hug, the embrace a welcome barrier against the cold Portland wind that nipped at Jessie's skin. "Hey. Thank you for coming," you mumbled against her, slowly pulling back from the hug. "Always."

You went through the motions, as you did every month. Talked to newcomers, caught up with old visitors, gave tours and explanations on what you did at OHOH. Jessie busied herself, talking to people here and there, sharing experiences with the people of Oregon. It was a welcome change for her, being somewhere where nobody really knew who she was. To be taken as herself, as Jess, not so much as Jessie Fleming – the Thorns and Canada midfielder that everyone seemed so eager to get a piece of. That's one of the main reasons she was so fond of you. You didn't know who she was. You hadn't found out yet either, or you were just very good at hiding it. It never came up in conversations, either. The only time Jessie spoke about football was the first time you met each other; when you asked her what her hobbies were. Football. A hobby. If only you knew. Jessie realized that she'd have to tell you at some point, but she liked the calm for now. The comfort.

As the night furthered, you two started gravitating towards each other more and more. From fleeting glances whenever you passed her with a new group to guide around the building, to quick conversations in between catch-ups, to full on spending the last hour of the fundraiser tucked away in a slightly more quiet corner, talking to each other like it was the easiest thing in the world. Neither you could deny the feelings that were starting to build inside you anymore. The fuzzy feeling remained, and now your skin felt tingly whenever Jessie's touch was on you. It excited you, really, but it made you oh so nervous. Scared, even. You'd never felt this way, not in your 24 years of doing life had you ever felt like this about someone. You didn't know what love was. Your mum loved your dad, you could see that, but that got lost in the dysfunctional dynamic of the family. Platonic love isn't something you experienced either throughout your youth, your peers had never been fond of you. You'd gotten used to that, grown accustomed to being alone. Not lonely, though, you didn't mind being alone. But this was different. Jessie made you feel all kinds of things and she made being alone feel like the worst thing in the world. You wanted to be around her, be alongside her, be with her.

You'd noticed a nervous touch in Jessie's behaviors that night. A little more restless than usual, a little more jumpy, much less controlled. Controlled. Jessie was always controlled. Although, that's what she thought. She liked being in control. In control over her thoughts, emotions, her behaviors. But the way she was fiddling with her fingers, the way she kept tapping her feet and how she seemed to stumble over her otherwise so composed words, you knew something was off.

"Are you okay, Jess?" You'd just locked up the building as the fundraiser came to an end, another successful evening wrapped up. You'd been building up the courage to ask her the question all evening, much as she had been trying to build up the courage to ask for your number – unbeknownst to you. You glanced at her over your shoulder when she didn't give you a reply. "Jess?" You raised your voice a little bit, seemingly startling the freckled Canadian. "Hmm?" She cocked her eyebrows, a nervous glint in her eye. You chuckled and made your way over to her, stalling opposite of her. "I asked whether you were okay. You've been a little... off tonight, or something? I don't know. I just wanna make sure, you know." You carefully approached the subject, not knowing if you were just overthinking things or if something was genuinely up.

Jessie cleared her throat. "Uhm, yeah. Yeah, I don't know. Bit off, I guess," she said distractedly. "You sure?" You decided to pry a little, inching closer towards her, your fingers nearly brushing hers. She chuckled, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips before she met her gaze again. "Yeah, it's fine, I promise. I think- I've just been in my head a bit this evening, I'm fine." A frown painted your face as you listened to her words. "Mhm, okay. You wanna tell me what it is? I hope I didn't do anything to upset you." You wracked your brain trying to think of a moment in the past couple hours that could've possibly upset the Canadian, but you blanked.

"No, no, God, no, it's not that. Please, don't worry about that," Jessie chuckled before continuing, "it's not you. It's me, I swear." You cocked an eyebrow at her. "'It's not you, it's me'? Really, Jess?" You couldn't contain the uneasy feeling that started to grow inside you as the conversation progressed. It seemed like Jessie didn't want to talk about what was bothering her, but she gave you just enough of an insight to keep you on your toes – it was almost annoying you. "No, fuck- I'm making it worse." Jessie rubbed her hands down her face and lifted a hand when she saw you were going to speak again, ordering you to wait. "I've been in my head tonight, yeah. But it's nothing to do with you. Well- in fact, maybe it does. But, not like that. You know? I'm just-" "Jessie Fleming, what are you trying to say? Get it over with."

Jessie took in a deep breath, trying to compose herself, before she opened her eyes and a waterfall of words left her mouth. "Wouldyoumaybewanttogivemeyournumber?" You slightly tilted your head and gave her an amused look, cocking an eyebrow when her gaze fluttered down. "Jess, I couldn't make much of that, I'm sorry." You couldn't help the chuckle that crept up your throat, you'd never seen the Canadian this unsure. "Would you maybe want to give me your number?" Your eyebrows raised in surprise as you took a moment to process her words, but Jessie assumed your silence was your way of denying her request. "I mean, you don't have to, really, I was just asking because- uhm, because, you know, things for the fundraisers and stuff. It's okay, honestly-" You cut Jessie off by a placing a hand on her chest and searching for her gaze that was flicking everywhere but to your face. "Hey, take it easy. Take a breath, okay?" Jessie's eyes were filled with concern but she did as you asked, feeling her chest expanding and deflating a couple times underneath your hand. "I'd love to give you my number."

Safe to say that you and Jessie struggled to find your way with one another. You, not used to romantic love, or love in general, you struggled with accepting Jessie's affection. But in the end, you made compromises, communicated with one another about what worked and what didn't, and you had been in a relationship that you could only describe as perfect for the past 8 months. Jessie and you complimented each other. You fit together. She got you up when you were down, and vice versa. You learned very quickly about her career in football, something that took you completely by surprise when she told you. You adjusted, you compromised, and it worked. You were happier than you'd ever been.

Your first big argument with your Jessie didn't come until December, near Christmas time. Jessie insisted that you came with her back to Canada to celebrate the holidays with her and her family, but you insisted on staying home. You didn't want to be a bother, and as much as your girlfriend had tried to convince you that you wouldn't be, the thought remained firmly planted at the forefront of your mind – whatever Jessie did, not helping to get rid of it.

You'd told Jessie about your upbringing. How it hadn't been the best, how you'd missed out on all the traditional things. You never went into much detail, not wanting to relive your past, preferably living in the now, but Jessie knew. That's the reason why she always treaded very carefully when approaching the subject, not wanting to pry or ask too much leading to you closing yourself off. It wasn't until after one particularly rough night with your girlfriend – the both of you spending the best part of 30 minutes fighting about the whole ordeal – that you thought it was best to just get it over with and tell Jessie why you were so reluctant.

You told her about how you spent most Christmases at home. No Christmas tree or Christmas lights because they would cost too much, no Christmas films because renting one was way out of the budget, never any fancy meals as the holidays were just another period of trying to survive off stale bread and canned vegetables. You told her how you'd felt jealous in school, embarrassed even, your peers gushing about the presents they received or the family dinners they went to, while you had nothing to bring to the conversation. Not that they wanted you to be part of it, anyway. You explained to Jessie that you just didn't know how to celebrate Christmas, and that you didn't want to be a burden to your family and to herself. You didn't know how to replace those feelings of resentment with new ones, forever feeling guilty at how much better you had it now than then.

The Canadian assured you that she understood, but she also saw an opportunity that she was ready to take with both hands. She tried convincing you one more time to come with her, how she would make sure to take care of you and be gentle with introducing you to all the Christmas traditions. That you didn't have to worry about her family, who always seemed to think 'the more, the merrier' when it came to these types of days. You'd met them before, twice, when you accompanied Jessie on her occasional weekend going back home, and you knew they liked you. It wasn't that that you were worried about, it was more so that you just didn't know how to act during these types of days. What do you do? Say? What do you wear? Should you get something nice or do they prefer you to just wear something cozy? How do you behave? What presents do they want? Many questions and so very little answers.

Eventually, after some more raised voices and a lot of frustration, you agreed. Agreed on accompanying your girlfriend to Canada, the prospect of being with her and her family much more enticing than having to be on your own in your shared apartment for 3 weeks. When you finally, albeit reluctantly agreed, Jessie couldn't wipe the grin off her face even if she tried. She gently cupped your cheeks and leant her forehead against yours, pressing a soft kiss against your nose. "I promise it'll be good. It'll be so much fun and we'll take everything slow. Your pace, hmm?" She pressed a couple more kisses against your nose, before leaning down and pressing a gentle, fleeting kiss against your lips. You exhaled deeply and closed your eyes, leaning your forehead on her shoulder. "Yeah," you sighed, "yeah. We'll be fine. It'll be fun." Jessie sensed the hesitance in your voice, and promised herself then and there that she'd do everything in her power to make the holidays a fun time for you.

Traveling to Ontario wasn't that bad. No delays, no abundance of traffic, no problems with baggage, your 3-week getaway had gotten off to a perfect start and it did wonders to relieve you from some of the stress you'd been dealing with the past couple weeks leading up to this trip. Jessie and you had hired a car to drive yourself from the airport to her childhood home. You could've taken a cab, but figured it would be easy to have an extra car at home for if you wanted to go somewhere, just the two of you. You'd been in London before, but Jessie was adamant to reintroduce you to all the spots she'd shown you around before, insisting that it would be a completely different vibe now that everything was decorated for Christmas. The drive went smoothly, your plane arriving a little past 8 meaning you just about dodged the flurry of evening traffic. Your eyelids were growing heavy in the car, exhausted from the long plane journey, and with the low hum of the engine and Jessie's fingers tracing soft patterns on your thigh, it didn't take long for you to doze off against the car window.

You didn't wake until a few hours later, when Jessie put a hand on your shoulder and lightly shook you to try and wake you from what had seemed quite a deep sleep. "We're here baby, wake up," she whispered, putting a couple strands of hair behind your ear that had fallen across your face. You grunted, eyes still closed but you stretched, sitting up straight and leaning into Jessie's touch. "Tired," you grumbled. "I know, baby, it's late. We can sleep when we're inside, yeah?" You opened your eyes and looked at your girlfriend, who was sporting a small smile on her face. "You're cute when you snore." She gave you a small wink and pressed a kiss on your nose, unbuckling your seatbelt and leaning across you to open your door. Any protests that were forming in your head about how you were not a snorer died in your throat as you felt the cold wind coming from outside nipping at your skin. You hurried outside, any propositions to help your girlfriend with the bags waved away as she carried all three of them comfortably to the front door. You rang the bell, not allowed any time to complain about the weather as it took no longer than a couple seconds for Jessie's mum to open the door.

Michaele sported a beaming smile and her eyes were brimming with unshed tears as she pulled her daughter in a heartfelt embrace. It'd been a while since they saw each other. Jessie opted to stay in Portland after her domestic season had ended, the environment motivating her more to stick to her training plans than if she'd gone home early. She also still had a couple Canada camps to attend to, so she needed to stay on top of her fitness if she wanted to perform. It'd been close to 4 months since she'd been home, and you could tell that it had been weighing on her. Jessie had always been very family-oriented, so her excitement to come back home for the holidays was second to none. Especially since she managed to convince you to come too.

Ever since Jessie introduced you to her family, they took you in as part of the family. Her parents never questioned anything, loved you as one of their own and you managed to bond quite well with Tristan and Elysse. You truly felt at home with the Fleming's, a feeling you never managed to experience within your own family. It lead to a lot of uncomfortable feelings at first, when you realized that you felt more comfortable with strangers than with your own mother, but Jessie reassured you that it was okay. That it was okay to feel those things, to be upset, but that you'd never have to worry about experiencing such love ever again. She'd make sure of that.

Safe to say that Jessie kept her promise of making sure the holidays went by smoothly for the two of you. Your first week in Ontario went by quickly, the two of you re-exploring the city in which Jessie had grown up so many years ago. You visited coffee spots, strolled around her elementary school, went for dinner at her favorite burger restaurant and spent a lot of time with her family. Game nights, movie nights, going out for walks together, you name it. Jessie's family dynamic was so different to what yours had been, it was a breath of fresh air. It was healthy.

Your getaway went by quick and before you knew it, you were reaching the final week of the year. You woke up on Christmas morning with a weird feeling in your stomach. You knew everything would be fine – Jessie assured you it would, but you couldn't help the nerves that were settling in your stomach the moment you stirred from your sleep. You'd bought everyone a present, it wasn't much, but you hoped it would suffice. You didn't want to come empty handed, especially not when Jessie's family let you stay with them for the best part of a month. The feeling of being an intruder in their house had long faded, a heartfelt conversation with Jessie's mother aiding to you feeling at home within their house.

Your girlfriend must've sensed your restlessness that morning and woke up not long after you, pulling you down in a warm cuddle before agreeing to get up together. You made your way downstairs and were pleasantly surprised to see you were the first ones up. Jessie made you and her a steaming warm mug of coffee, before cuddling up with each other on the couch. You looked out across the garden, snow wrapping the town in an icy blanket of cold.

"You wanna make cookies?" Jessie's voice pulled you out of your thoughts. "Cookies?" You weren't opposed to the idea. It was nice to be alone for a moment, doing something together – just the two of you. "Yeah, cookies. I can't say it's a tradition, we don't do it every year, but sometimes my mum makes these Christmas cookies. Her own recipe. They're really good." Jessie raked her fingers through your long strands of hair from her position behind you on the couch, your back resting tight against her front. You craned your neck towards her. "Yeah, that'd be nice."

You and Jessie got to work in the kitchen, combining your forces to try and make sure the cookies would be as good as when Michaele would make them. You followed the recipe step by step, measuring and mixing the ingredients that would soon come together in small, bite-size, Christmas sugar cookies. It made you feel at ease, to have a little moment with just Jessie, before the prospect of what would surely be a busy day. Just the two of you, cuddling up to each other in the kitchen while making something that reminded Jessie of her childhood. It felt good, it felt right, it felt like home. A minute or 20 later, you put the cookies in the oven. 18 of them, 3 each.

Elysse and Tristan had already made their way downstairs, with Jessie's parents following suit only a couple minutes later. You all made some small talk, Jessie now also providing coffee for the rest of her family members. Before long, you all gathered in the living room where the presents would be given out.

"We've got the stockings first, as always," Michaele announced. She opened a bag that was sitting near the edge of the sofa and started giving them round, everyone receiving a stocking with the letter of their first name. What you didn't expect, though, was you to get one yourself. So when everyone had gotten their stocking and Michaele reached back into the bag to get one for you, it was hard to swallow the lump that had formed in your throat. Jessie noticed this, placing a comforting hand on the small of your back as you thanked and hugged her mom. You'd never felt more loved, more part of something than in that moment. You were part of their family, part of their home and everyone wanted to make sure you knew that.

The rest of the day went by so much better than you could've imagined. The Christmas cookies turned out perfect, some more family members came over for lunch, you went out for an afternoon stroll and then you all watched a Christmas movie on the sofa together late at night. You were feeling apprehensive about many things before you both took off to Oregon, but it's safe to say that Jessie kept her promise of trying to turn Christmas into something joyous for you.

Ever since that year, you hadn't missed a holiday season with the Flemings ever again. And you wouldn't want to have it differently anyway. Because after all, they were your family.

[0mg-bird]

hii! i lovedd 'lover's rock' sososo much and would absolutely love if you'd write more about that reader & spencer's relationship! maybe the way it develops or their dynamic when they are like 100% official? anything'll do but the way you wrote reader is so unbelievably me i was absolutely eating it upp!!! i love you & your writing!

Hiiiii!!! Thank u sm !!! Lover’s Rock got so much love, here’s a part two!

My Spencer Reid requests are open!

Everybody Loves Somebody ~ S. Reid

Part II of Lover’s Rock

Spencer!Reid x Fem!Twee!Reader

Warnings: 18+ content, brief smut, reader gets wine drunk with BAU women. Reid being dirty, reader being dirty. Idiots in love, omg so cute, season 6/ 7 Reid is soooooo boyfriend. Morgan thinks Reid’s gone crazy. Um yeah okay enjoy

86% of Americans believe in true love, but only 67% of them say they’ve experienced it. That’s a statistic Spencer told you once.

How lucky you are to be apart of that 67%.

How lucky you are that you didn’t settle, that you waited painfully long for it to feel right, because it feels so right.

Ever since that everything but casual hookup, it was like a stone that was always supposed to be in motion, finally started rolling. Spencer took you to dinner, a nice Italian hole in the wall because you mentioned a love of pasta, then he started to call at the end of the day just to talk, and a second date became of that. It’s like he blinked and all of a sudden you two were spending all of his free time together, watching movies, his hand in yours as you dragged him to record stores.

He seriously thinks that in the moments you’re half dressed in his bed, rambling on and on about something you think is important enough to talk about until you practically pass out, that it’s all a dream and he’ll wake up alone come daybreak.

It never happens though, he wakes and you’re curled into his ribcage like that’s where you belong.

You do, he determines.

So three months of this honeymoon dance, the words ‘I love you’ come out unexpectedly in one of Spencer’s ramblings as the breeze blows in, feeling awfully like the winter that’s coming soon. You were bundled up beside him, hand in his like it always is as he tells you about work and how Morgan is always after him about the ‘scandalous love affair’ he’s having with ‘bar room girl’. Aka you.

“They ask so many questions, it’s unbelievable the lack of privacy I have. You know what he told me?” He had asked, which you answered with “What did he tell you, handsome?” before he continued.

“He seriously asked me if I was keeping my options open just in case you turned out to be crazy, clearly he had to be joking because there are no other options. Not that I would want another option! I wouldn’t, you’re the option I’ll stick with- no not an option just, well, you’re you and I love you so I don’t really care if you turn out crazy. I’d see the signs by now anyway.”

You stopped your stride, looking up at him with wide eyes and a wide grin.

“What?” You question.

“Well I’ve been with you long enough to learn your habits and if you were crazy then-”

“No.” You stop him. “You love me?”

He faces you, realizing he had just said it. But even if he wanted to try and back track, he couldn’t, he’s smiling too wide.

“Yeah, I do. I love you.”

“Good. I love you too.” You say, watching your words click in his brain and immediately his hands are cupping your face and he’s kissing you in the middle of the sidewalk, leaning over you as you laugh against his lips. Spencer doesn’t do PDA, or so he thought until he learned that it’s sometimes the only way you’ll understand his feelings and how he can’t put them into words.

You adore the sporadic behavior, getting kissed on sidewalks and trains and movie theater seats and anywhere else he thinks you’re far too beautiful in.

That’s what life has been like for six months together, madly and truly and deeply in love, deeply intimate in every word and touch and action. He goes to work and you’re the thought in the back of his mind as he crakes cases, you teach students and find yourself smiling at any free moment you have to think of when you’re going to see him next.

Now, the team has noticed the shift in their beloved Dr Reid, how he didn’t go out with them like he used to, how he spent a lot more time texting, how he’d casually mention you, but Spencer was a selfish man who wanted you to be something of only his. He shared his whole life with his team and even if they were his family, he took pride in knowing he had an escape they didn’t, which was you.

If the world got too much, you were there with your quirky outfits and strawberry lipstick to stain his cheek. You were his fix. Screw drugs, he had your laugh engraved in his head and that was far better than a needle.

That being said, there were times he was feigning, going through withdrawal all over again when he was gone for too long.

Like now. When he’s been everywhere but where you are for a week and three days just because he had back to back conferences and then fell right into a case.

He was tired and drained and felt a migraine coming on, painfully antisocial as he leaned back in the seat in the jet. Momentarily, he takes a second to breathe, then immediately digs his phone from his pocket and messages you.

He knows that you’re probably just getting home from the school day, that you’re probably sitting down at your desk to grade papers or work out lesson plans. He’s learned your routine in and out, it might be a little stalker-ish if he really thinks about it, so many cases has he worked where the unsub knows where a girl is at 4:30pm.

He’s no unsub, he just loves you enough to know everything about you.

Morgan, nosy like always, notices the way Spencer softly smiles at his phone.

“What are you grinning at, lover boy?” He asks, watching the way Spencer’s expression quickly shifts.

“Nothing.” He states, putting his phone away.

Morgan smirks. “Oh don’t be coy with me, we all know you’re dying to get home to that girl of yours.”

Spencer’s brows furrow, he opens his mouth to deny but the words don’t come. So he gives into it instead.

“So what if I am?” He questions, making Morgan- and Emily who is now paying attention- laugh.

“Aw, Reid, you’re all twitter-patted.” The dark haired agent says in a sweet tone.

Spencer presses his lips together and looks away.

“He’s not even trying to deny it.” Morgan tries to jab.

Only Spencer just shrugs. “Why would I try to deny it? I’m in love with her.”

The two widen their eyes.

“That’s a big word to use.” Emily hums.

“It’s a big feeling to have.” Spencer states. “You know, I’m used to feeling like I’m slowly going crazy everyday but ever since I met her, I don’t really feel it as intensely. It’s all the chemicals released in my brain I think, the dopamine and oxytocin over powers anxiety. Maybe it’s a placebo effect or something but I’ve never felt better than I do with her, so in short words, she’s cured me.”

For a moment, the two are at a loss for words, staring at their friend. It’s no negative thoughts they have, because they are overjoyed that their nerdy, awkward sidekick has finally found a match.

“I’m happy for you, Reid.” Emily smiles. “Sounds like she’s a good fit.”

Spencer, who could never speak ill about you, nods. “She’s probably the only one out there for me so yeah, she’s a good fit.”

“And you have me to thank for having her.” Morgan smirks. “Without me, you wouldn’t have approached her at the bar, you would’ve sat with your nose in that book and died alone.”

“Wow. Very encouraging.” Spencer says dryly.

“I want to meet her. I’m sure the whole team does.” Emily says, changing the subject.

“What’s that?” JJ adds in.

“Reid’s gonna introduce us to the girl who makes him leave the office at a decent hour.” Emily states before he can protest.

You aren’t going to like this idea, but the team is all talking about it like it’s the biggest news ever. He’d get you to settle and agree somehow, just so Morgan will finally see why he is so infatuated with you.

Besides, Rossi is already planning a night at his mansion for the team just so Spencer can bring you along.

- - - -

You completely lose track of the time as you continue to prepare dinner in his apartment, adding homemade sauce to pasta, cutting up seasoned chicken.

That’s probably why you don’t realize Spencer is home until he’s shutting and locking the door behind him.

He smiles in surprise as he sees you, dancing around his kitchen, hair clipped up in a messy updo, knee socks sliding around the floor.

“Hey.” He speaks, causing you to startle and flip around to face him.

Immediately, you’re joyous.

“Spence! Hi!” You rush to him.

He’s never been greeted so warmly until you, and now he can’t have anything different.

His arms encircle your waist as you clumsily throw your arms around his neck. The first words out of your mouth are ones he had never heard that often before you.

“I missed you.” You say, hugging him tight.

He pressed his nose to your hair, soothed by your citrusy shampoo. “I missed you too. I thought we were going to meet at the restaurant?”

You pull back only enough to see his face, your hand in his hair. It’s shorter than when you met, but it’s a good look for him.

“I know but I got impatient and figured I could surprise you with dinner. Is that okay? I suppose I could have asked. I used the key you gave me, I figured that the key meant I could stop in but I really should have asked, huh? Sorry, you know I get ahead of myself. Is this a violation of privacy-”

His lips find your rambling ones, immediately shushing you. It’s a warm welcoming feeling, something the both of you have missed terribly. You sink a little more into him, eyes shut in bliss as you slowly mold your lips with his, savoring it, deepening it.

“You being here is perfect, I gave you that key for to use. Thank you for using it.” He says closely as he pulls back, leaning his forehead to yours.

You sigh with a smile. “I really missed you.”

“I really missed you too.”

There’s a very peaceful silence for a moment, filled with your hands on his chest and your lips trailing over his face.

“Hey, sweetheart?” He asks before you press into him again, a little deeper now.

You hum in question against his lips.

“Where are your pants?” He asks, all muttered.

He really wasn’t complaining if you decided a new fashion trend was wandering his apartment in knee socks and funky patterned boy-short underwear.

“Red wine tragedy.” You state, pushing his coat off. “The cork wouldn’t budge, I put a little elbow grease into it but the thing toppled over when it popped and it was like a crime scene. Red stain everywhere.”

He tosses the coat to the arm chair. “That answers my next question as to why you’re wearing my Lacoste shirt.”

“My clothes are in the bathroom sink, had to scrub them down, though I think they can’t be salvaged.” You frown, turning back to the dinner, reaching for your wine glass.

Spencer just stares, watching how domestic it all is. You in his clothes, making dinner.

“Are you tired? Hungry?” You ask, looking over your shoulder at him.

“Hungry, yes. Tired, not yet. Are you staying the night?” He asks, coming behind you, kissing the top of your head as he leans to pick at ingredients and snack on them.

“Oh…do you want me to?” You question, trying to be coy like you don’t already know the answer.

“Of course I want you to.” He responds, making you chew your lip.

“Good, because my bag is already in your bedroom so it would’ve been really awkward if you said no.”

Spencer laughs, squeezing your hip in affection before he goes to clean up and get out of his work clothes. He takes a quick shower, warm water rushing over him, but he doesn’t want to be away from you for too long.

He comes out in sweatpants and a graphic shirt you’ve finally returned back to him.

The two of you sit and eat dinner and you listen to every single word he has to say before you explain your day and everything you didn’t cover in the nightly phone calls he made to you while away. It’s sometime after cleaning up, after the two of you washed dishes while bumping hips, that Spencer notices the trickle of things that have made their way amongst his belongings. Some have come over time, like a collection of cd’s, books, scarves you constantly forget to grab on your way out. Some things are new, like the makeup products in the medicine cabinet, your favorite snacks in the fridge.

“Did you move in while I was gone?” He laughs, coming to sit beside you on his couch.

Your legs immediately are tugged into his lap, his hand rubbing your calves.

“What? No.” You state, taking your hair down. “I just came by to collect your mail and put it on the coffee table …and to water your plants.”

Spencer cocks his head, looking at you in question. “I don’t have any plants, lovely.”

He watches your smile grow. “I got you some plants.” You say with a giggle.

That explains the golden pathos on the television stand and the small fiddle leaf fig by the window.

He thinks it’s charming, endearing. He noses your hair line, drawing you closer to him. “I no longer live alone, it seems.” He hums.

“Does that bother you?” You question, leaning your head into the space between his collar and jaw. The perfect you size space.

Spencer is quiet for a moment, then he shakes his head and speaks something into existence that he probably should have taken more than a second to think over.

“No, it doesn’t. Actually, I think I want you to move in. Permanently.”

Why should he have to think about it? It’s you, he wants you around 24/7. You could be his home, you could greet him like this always, your perfume could linger around like a friendly ghost.

“Is that a joke? I know you have an odd sense of humor.” You say, pulling back to look at him.

Spencer smiles gently, fingers tucking hair behind your ear. “No joke. I want you to be here with me all the time, I’m selfish like that.”

“You aren’t selfish.” You scoff playfully, but your expression quickly turns into one of concern. “But-but are you sure? I’m probably not a good roommate, I can be messy and I sleep weird hours. And I leave wet towels on the floor a lot, and sometimes forget to put the toothpaste away.”

Spencer shakes his head. “That’s fine, I’ll pick up the towels and put the toothpaste away.”

You continue to fuss. “But what about all of my things? I have a lot of stuff, you’d have to move things around and you’d get sick of all my shoes in your closet.”

“I don’t have much in my closet as it is, I’m fine with sharing. I’ll get another bookcase for your books.”

“But-”

He cradles your face in his hands. “But I love you and I’d be happy to trip over your heels forever. Now, do you want to move in or not? You can say no.”

You don’t want to say no.

“Your apartment is bigger than mine…and your shower has better water pressure.” You slowly say, cheeks still squished slightly between his palms.

Spencer begins to break out in a grin, but he lets you finish.

“And I could get to work faster…and I like the thought of never having to go back to my apartment for clean clothes.” Then you pause and look back up to his eye. “It would be nice to share something with you besides my entire heart and body and soul.”

How dare you say something so loving and honest, and just sit there like you were always meant to say these sort of words to him. Spencer is going to be love sick his entire life, he has no back bone, he is not a man but your man and this is all he has ever wanted. He starts to nod with starry eyes, slowly bringing his face closer to yours. “So?” He presses.

“So yes, I want to move in!” You say in a gleeful tone, throwing your arms around his neck as you rush a kiss to him.

You can’t help the cheerful laugh that leaves you, it makes it hard to kiss when Spencer is doing the same thing, completely at your will as you nudge him to shift and lay down on the cushions, you falling on top of him.

This is usually how it goes.

Someone makes a small move and then both of you get carried away. Neither of you ever seem to mind. You could spend an hour kissing and doing nothing else, but you haven’t felt the heat of him in ten days and nights, so you’re hungry for the breath in his lungs and the electricity in his fingers.

Spencer’s hands start to wander as you sit on his hips, kissing him slow and deep. They smooth up your thighs, over your underwear and up your back. Your mind is always as good as blank whenever those hands are on you.

“I’m never leaving again.” He declares, trying to work on the buttons of his shirt that you wear.

You sit up to help him. “That’s not possible.”

“I’ll find a way to make it happen, I only ever want to be here.”

You push the fabric off, leaving you in your lacy bra that he thinks is almost too pretty to take off.

Almost.

“Right here? On your couch?” You question sarcastically, fingers in his hair as he sits up to taste the skin of your neck.

“Yes, on my couch, about to show you how much I missed you.” He clarifies.

It’s blissful and exciting, how he ends up between your thighs, giving you relentless pleasure with no indication that he’s ready for you to return the favor. He’d stay like this all night if you wanted, tongue on nerves, fingers drawing out pretty noises from your blushed lips. It’s because it’s as good as breathing, having you reacting the way you do, tasting you in the most intimate way.

“Spence, baby.” You whine, legs threatening to shut.

He’s working you up, pushing you closer to the edge, looking up at you with those big brown eyes of his. Your hand tightens in his hair, holding him close as you plead for your finish. There’s no need to beg, Spencer would give this to you all day long.

When you do get to that point, it’s throwing you into another existence momentarily. A rather desperate moan frees from your throat, your head digging into the arm of the couch. It makes you feel warm and shaky. You have to blink harshly for your vision to clear.

“I- mmm.” You hum as he comes up to kiss you, it’s sinful the way you taste yourself on his tongue. “I think you’re the most perfect person in the history of persons.”

Spencer chuckles. “I’d correct your grammar but I don’t think your minds working at full speed right now.”

It’s true, everything is slow and fuzzy, yet you still find the urge to ask for more.

“We don’t have to.” He says, wanting to make sure you don’t feel obligated.

You never do, your drive just happens to be something he marvels at. In all actuality, he’s learned that he can match your pace, so it’s always fine. The two of you could spend nights on end falling into each other, either softly or with a hunger.

Tonight is probably one of those nights.

That’s how it seems when he has you in the bedroom after taking you on the sofa.

It’s your shared apartment now, he could probably have you on every available surface. But he has you in his sheets, teeth dragging across his skin, bare and the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

Sex is never just sex with Spencer, even when it feels like it. Like when he comes straight to your apartment after a bad day and you offer yourself as a cure. It’s never just using each other, it’s all feeling and praise and making sure the other is reassured and happy. It’s nerves on fire and constantly stroking those deep, hidden parts of heavy pleasure inside each other that have never been brought to life. There’s borders pushed, you just let it happen because there is no way you’d ever want to say no and deny yourself the feeling of what he does to you. He has you arching with an empty head thrown back against the pillow as your tongue goes lame and you can no longer properly tell him how amazing it feels. Spencer has an idea, given the way you shudder and make the most criminal and attractive sounds he’s going to be replaying in his mind forever.

You learn a lot about care in the moments following bliss. Spencer could be compared to an animal of prey, the way he comforts without question, wipes tears from your face and does anything you ask of him.

“Hey.” He calls softly, leaning up on his side, watching you with your messy hair sprawled on the pillow. “You still with me, angel?”

You hum, head feeling heavy as you turn it to face him. You’re there…most of you is.

You suck on your bottom lip like you always tend to do, not needing words as you nod.

His hand reaches for your cheek, thumb brushing the flushed skin. “Overwhelmed?” He asks in an intimate tone, one he only uses with you.

You curl yourself closer to him. “A lot of feelings…I feel a lot.” You jumble, brows furrowed as you try to get power back to your limbs.

He hums, understanding, adjusting to hold you. “It’s the endorphins.” He speaks. “You have a high release of them during sex, then it all comes crashing down post orgasm. Your body’s trying to regulate your dopamine, because you got a thousand milligram shot of it basically, and now the high is coming to an end.”

You love it when he proves just how smart he is. It’s also insanely hilarious if you think about it, because he was just leaving bruises on your thighs as he pushed deep inside of you over and over, and now he’s explaining the science behind everything he made happen for you. To say the least, you were insanely in love with how much of a nerd he is.

“I feel good though. Not sad or anything…just sensitive.” You breathe out, somehow your voice trembles and squeaks, nudging closer to his skin like you need it pressed to yours or you won’t live.

“What do you need?” He asks in concern, tightening his arms around you like a weighted blanket.

You could cry. You won’t, but you could at the way he’s so caring and gentle. In what life do you do good enough in order to deserve him?

This one.

Shifting to see him face to face, your hand rests on his jaw, your thumb brushing the stubble there, and then traces to his upper lip. You like when he doesn’t shave, it makes him look more mature.

“I just need you.” You tell him, continuing your slow rubbing motions. It’s all you can say because you’re not sure he’ll understand that you have the urge to be wrapped in his skin and bones entirely, like you could just absorb into him and be your happiest.

Spencer knew in all of those years of awkward strike outs and getting ignored, that when the day came when he’d have a you to tell him sweet things and caress gently, he’d have to recognize the feeling. He’d have to be aware that this was a gift and to not be blind to the fact in front of him. The fact being that he has someone to love who loves him back just the same, and now he has to use that fact in every choice moving forward.

‘Honeymoon’ months have come and gone and though the two of you did argue once in a blue moon, things were great and were going to stay great.

He thinks a lot about this as he stares at his book page, leaned back in a chair next to the sill of the tub you reside in. Warm water relaxes you, scented bath soap makes your skin smell fresh.

You’re watching your painted toes pop up from the water, perfectly content with his hand twisting a strand of your hair around his fingers.

“I like my bedsheets…they’re soft and broke in.” You say promptly.

“I’ll take my sheets off the bed, you can put yours on.” He tells you.

You turn the hot water dial on and off with your foot quickly. “You’ll let me put my stockings in your sock and underwear drawer?”

“Of course.”

“You won’t laugh at me when I come to bed in nightgowns because I spent way too much money at a 1960’s lingerie store?”

“Did you really do that?” He asks, looking down at you, taking better notice of your hair as he does.

You must have given yourself a trim again, your bang part isn’t straight. You’re always changing your hair on the whim and it’s never perfect, but it always looks great on you.

“I was really bored while you were gone.” You exclaim. “The girls and I went shopping and I somehow ended up with lace teddy’s in four different colors.”

“Which colors?”

“Yellow, pink, blue and purple.”

“I like purple.” He nods.

You smile, then turn over to gaze up at him, arms resting on the edge of the tub. “I love you.”

He looks away from the inked words on the page and to you, resting your cocked head on your folded arms. “I love you too.” He says, leaning down and kissing your temple.

Then he drops the bomb.

“Oh, we’re going over to Rossi’s and you have to meet the team.”

“Now!?” You panic.

“No, no, angel.” He laughs.

- - - -

“My hair.” You fuss.

“You’re beautiful.” Spencer reminds, leading you to the escalator after you get off the metro.

You’ve made every excuse in the book not to go tonight, you’ve worried yourself sick about absolutely nothing.

“Is Rossi really rich?” You ask, wrapping your arm around him as he crowds your space on the moving stairs, hand on your waist, not minding one bit at how you shrink into him as he faces forward.

“Extremely rich, actually. Sometimes I think I should write a book or two and live his lifestyle.” He tries to joke, but you merely groan.

“I should’ve worn different boots, nicer ones.” You sat into his sweater vest.

“Why didn’t you?” He asks.

“These are my nicest boots!” You protest, and Spencer just laughs because he knew that’s exactly what you’d say.

He likes that fact, that he knows you well enough to predict the words from your perfect mouth.

His hand rubs your hip, feeling the thick material of your coat. “Your shoes aren’t going to make them love you, honey, they’re going to love you because you’re you.”

A frown pouts at your red stained lips despite the way you swoon over his sweet words. Spencer is always good at stringing together terms of endearment to make you feel warm and fuzzy.

“Yes, I’m me, and people tend to not like me for obvious reasons.”

He doesn’t like those words coming from your mouth.

“I like you.” He chimes.

“Yes but you’re weird.”

“That’s no way to speak to your boyfriend who just put together a brand new bookcase for your things.”

You smile now, still clinging to him as the two of you head up to the night street. You’ll get a cab and you’ll be unsteady all the way to Rossi’s mansion of a home.

“I’m scared.” You squeeze his hand, staring at the iron door knocker.

Spencer squeezes back. “They pick on me, but they won’t pick on you. Besides, if you want to impress Rossi, just say a few things in Italian and tell him about your year abroad.”

“Vuoi fare sesso con me?”

His brows draw. “What’s that mean?”

You bite your smile. “Something I really can’t say to your boss.”

He rolls his eyes and knocks on the door.

This is the end. They’ll hate you, you’re sure of it and then Spencer will break up with you because his team will tell him he should ditch you and-

“Reid! You’re finally here!” An older man opens the door, dark hair slicked back, maintained facial hair, gold chain. He quickly ushers the two of you inside.

When his attention is turned to you, he is warm and inviting, introducing himself as David, calling you Italian terms of endearment, leading you to his living room after taking your coat.

The team- more like a family- is all talking amongst themselves with drinks in hand and laughing.

You’re thrown into the mix and come to realize you made it all up in your head.

The wine helps.

While the others are still trying to wrap their heads around the fact that Spencer Reid who doesn’t shake hands is showing signs of PDA, the girls who have been plotting for some time are pulling you away from him.

Spencer watches your eyes widen and he opens his mouth to suggest that maybe it’s not the best idea but Morgan sits him back down.

That’s how you end up in the guest bathroom with a bottle of wine and three women who ask you question and question. And as the four of you get tipsier and tipsier, all nerve is lost.

“We moved in together.” You say after handing the bottle to Penelope.

The three exclaim in surprise.

“He never tells us anything.” JJ frowns, possibly the most lightweight of them all.

Emily, who you learn gets more buzzed off of energy than anything, snickers a bit. “Sorry, I just got the image in my head of Reid sleeping in a twin size bed next to yours.”

The rest of you join her laughter.

“We share a bed.” You state, wondering why you thought these women were going to be monsters.

“Aw does he wear his pajamas and night cap too?” Penelope giggles. “Oh! Oh! Does he snore?”

She proceeds to imitate a very fake yet cute way of snoring.

“No, no. You guys have no idea what you’re talking about. He-he’s very normal, no striped pajamas, no oil lamp-”

“Ha! Oil lamp, that’s a good one.” JJ snorts.

“-just normal night routines, normal sex life, normal-ish sleep schedule.”

The three pause and you don’t even realize what you’ve given them.

“Normal sex life?” Emily questions, leaving you to drink from the bottle in confusion.

“Huh?”

“You said normal sex life.” Penelope presses.

“Oh…yeah.” Your cheeks go red.

The three cringe.

“Oh, ew.”

“Yeah, there’s no way Reid has a sex life and I don’t.”

“I’m never gonna get this image out of my head.”

Meanwhile, in the living room, Spencer is getting a similar interview.

“You love her?” Rossi asks with a proud smile.

“I do.” Spencer nods.

“She’s going to be moving in next.” Hotch jokes, fully being satire.

“No, she’s already done that. I’m going to marry her next.”

The men freeze and their eyes widen.

Their Spencer Reid, the young genius with a funny haircut who was just 24, is sitting here now talking about marriage.

“You’re too young for that, kid.” Rossi states, the others seeming to agree.

Only Spencer has thought of this for countless nights. Sure, he isn’t going to marry you tomorrow but he is going to marry you.

“I’m thirty, that’s a very average time for a man to marry. Besides, why would I push it off? I’m not waiting to be sure if she’s the one, I already know that.” He says like it’s so simple.

There’s no reasoning with him because he already has his reasons. The men realize this and accept it, because who were they to try and damper his mood? Everybody loves somebody, and Spencer finally fits that description.

- - - -

Crash

“I broke your plant.” You frown, stumbling over your feet, clinging onto Spencer as he pulls you through the apartment.

“That’s alright, it was more your plant than mine.” He reassures, trying to get you to the bathroom.

He knew he shouldn’t have left you with JJ, Prentiss and Garcia for that long. Now all three of you were wine drunk. He’s just grateful he only has to take care of you. Emily passed out on Rossi’s couch, Morgan was trying to wrangle Penelope when the two of you left.

“Your friends are nice.” You slur, hair in your face as he flicks on the bathroom light and sits you on the closed toilet seat.

“Yeah, real nice.” He huffs, pulling your hair up into a bun before going to grab your toothbrush.

“You’re mad?” You frown, mouth opening as he starts to brush your teeth for you.

Spencer looks down at you, one hand holding your chin while the other works the brush back and forth. “No, angel, never at you.” He reassures.

Once that task was tackled and he helps remove your makeup, he supports you all the way to the bedroom where he sits you in the bed and crouches to unzip your boots and pull them off.

Your eyes squeeze shut in hopes to get rid of the blur, and you yelp as he tugs your stockings down too roughly on accident. As your head hits the mattress, you erupt in a fit of giggles. Spencer can only apologize with a smile and kiss your knee.

“You’re taking my clothes off.” You state the obvious.

“Yes, I am.” He says, sitting you up after he pulls off your skirt to pull your sweater over your head.

“Careful now, I’m a married woman.” You joke, pulling at his sweater vest.

“Oh, are you?” He questions, pushing your hands away. The action draws a childish whine to escape you.

“No, sadly I’m not. I’m a spinster.” You sigh.

“That’s not what that means, lovely.” Spencer laughs.

“Doesn’t matter! Take off your clothes.” You whine and pull at the sweater again.

“Hey, I’m trying to get you ready for bed.” He dodges your advances once more, though it’s hard when you’re begging for a kiss.

Spencer kisses your nose and then goes to the dresser to retrieve a t shirt to slide on you when you’re just down to your underwear.

“I want a real kiss.” You frown, refusing to get in bed until you get it.

Spencer leans to softly peck your lips, once, twice, three times.

“Get in bed, I’ll get you some water.” He says, pulling back and motioning to the pillows.

With an audible humph, you do your best to crawl to your spot and slide into the sheets that came from your old apartment.

Spencer returns quickly with a glass of water, sets it on your bedside table and proceeds to get changed himself, well aware of your gaze.

“Spencer?” You question.

“Yeah?”

“You should make me your wife, I’d be a good one.”

He looks over at you, mostly covered in darkness accept for the light coming in from the window. You look so peaceful, watching him with love, saying the most perfect things.

“I know you would, pretty girl.” He smiles.

You’re satisfied with that answer.

Patting the empty space, you beckon him to your side, wanting to be tangled together. Spencer comes to his side of the mattress, the side closest to the door, and slips under the covers and helps you adjust into him.

Mostly incoherent, you speak. “We could get married, I could change my last name to Reid and we’d be the smartest couple around, you and me.”

Spencer hums, lying on his back as you nuzzle into his chest. “That sounds pretty nice.”

“I won’t ever ask for a divorce either, I wouldn’t even spend all your money.”

“Is that what you think wives do?”

You shrug. “That’s what my dad says about my mom.”

Kissing your head, he beckons you to go to sleep and you could continue this conversation another time.

“…Take your clothes off.” You say, shut eyes and mischievous smile.

“No, go to sleep.”

[dazzlingjaeyun]

𝐱𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 [𝟏𝟐/𝟎𝟏] ⊹˚꙳⁺⋆₊･*❅

bf!heeseung x gf!reader

genre: fluff

word count: 963

[vote here for next week's drabble]

₊☃️‧₊˚❄️˚₊‧🌨️˚ ⋅

"i'm giving up," heeseung sighed as he dropped the hand mixer next to the bowl, looking at you with helpless eyes and an adorable pout on his lips.

"no way," you bit your lip to surpress a grin, "the lee heeseung is giving up?"

he crossed his arms in feigned offense. "that's not even a dough!" he exclaimed, picking up the bowl from the kitchen counter and holding it right under your nose for you to examine.

you eyed the mixture for a second, before blinking your eyes up at your boyfriend. "babe, that's... really not a dough," you agreed, trying your best to hold your laugh. "are you sure you added enough flour?"

heeseung huffed. "are you saying i can't read a recipe? i followed every step!"

you squeezed past him in the small space that the kitchen of your shared apartment offered, and almost immediately your eyes fell on the closed packet of flour right next to where the bowl had been standing.

"that's why this is still closed?" you asked with a mocking grin on your lips, pointing at the packet.

heeseung's eyes wandered from you to the packet and his shoulder slumped just a tiny bit at the sight. "maybe i forgot," he mumbled after a while, still pouting.

"i figured," you teased, but when your boyfriend's pout didn't disappear, you stood up on your tippy toes to press a soft peck on his lips.

"it's fine, it's not ruined, hee," you smiled, opened the pack and added the needed amount of flour, before mixing the dough another time. heeseung stepped behind you, rested his chin on the top of your head and waited until you leaned into his touch.

then, he quickly dipped a finger in the opened packet of flour and booped your nose, leaving its tip white with the powder.

"hee!" you exclaimed, half shocked, half amused.

heeseung grinned in satisfaction – and although you had your back to him, you knew exactly what kind of expression he wore on his face.

"that's what you get for making fun of me," he said, trying his best to sound annoyed, but the softness his voice always carried whenever he was talking to you betrayed him.

you wiped the tip of your nose with the back of your hand, set the hand mixer down and turned around to face your boyfriend.

you looked up at him, his eyes radiating so much love and warmth when they met yours that the terrible christmas sweater you were wearing suddenly felt way too warm.

"and what do i get for saving your dough?" you asked in the most innocent tone you could muster, slightly biting the inside of your cheek to supress a grin.

heeseung smiled, brought his hands up to gently cup your cheeks and caressed your skin with his thumb for a second before he leaned in for a soft kiss.

you immediately kissed back, bringing one hand up to his chest and feeling his heartbeat just slightly speeding up under the soft fabric of his own sweater. you grabbed the material to pull him a little closer, seemingly deepening the kiss – only to collect some flour in your free hand, pulling away from heeseung's lips and booping his nose like he'd done just shortly before to yours.

heeseung blinked his eyes open and gasped dramatically, clutching his sweater just above his heart. "how dare you?"

without hesitation, he reached for the flour again, dipped his finger inside and swiped it off on your cheek in a heart shape, drawing a chuckle from you. the sound made heeseung's heart flutter despite all the months you'd already been together. it would always feel like the first time – cupid shooting an arrow right through his heart each time you did so much as smile.

for some minutes, he just admired you, internally cheering at the fact that you loved him just as much as he loved you, and that you were really his – until you broke his thoughts.

"do you want to try?"

he blinked in confusion. "try?"

"the dough, baby," you said with a smile, turning around to grab the bowl and a spoon before facing him again. you picked up a small amount of dough and held the spoon up to his lips.

his eyes widened at the taste, a little sparkle flashing through them, and you couldn't help but wonder if that's what he'd looked like as a kid when he'd gotten his favorite snack.

"i take that as 'it's edible'," you chuckled.

after heeseung nodded, you quickly pecked his cheek before squeezing past him for the second time and rummaging around in the drawers to search the different cookie cutters you'd used every winter ever since you were a kid.

once you found them and placed them on the kitchen counter along with a rolling pin, you looked at heeseung, who already watched you in anticipation.

"you've made christmas cookies before, right?"

he hesitated for a bit before slowly, almost shyly, shaking his head.

your eyes widened slightly, but you quickly masked your surprise with a warm smile. "then it's even more special now."

heeseung smiled back at you and you swore your heart skipped a beat when he replied, "everything with you is special."

you felt warmth rushing to your face and quickly turned your head away from him, searching for your favorite cookie cutter in an attempt to hide the blush on your cheeks. it didn't go unnoticed by heeseung, but he didn't comment on it.

"found it," you said with a smile, holding up a bambi shaped cookie cutter, "that was always my favorite."

heeseung's smile grew bigger. "really?" he asked, and when you nodded eagerly, he added, "you were just meant to be mine."

part one of my xmas specialtap here to get to the other members!

© dazzlingjaeyun, 2024. please do not copy.

join my taglist here

❥ perm. taglist: @sudi109 @woniesun @leov3rse @simpjay @immelissaaa @beebrightness

[pleasantlycrazyworld]

A/N: This is sort of rushed, so I'm sorry if it's not my best work. I wanted to say happy Thanksgiving to all those who celebrate, I'm so thankful for all of you who have been supporting me and my nonsense on here I never thought people would enjoy my writing and want more of it, you really have made my year approve significantly and I can't thank you enough. <3. This is from the prompt list I just posted. requests are opened, so feel free to request stuff from the prompt list or any other idea you have for me to write!

Prompt 15. Fighting to survive christmas shopping.

Tomorrow is black Friday, and you had everything planned to a t. Logan had never actually gone out shopping on black Friday, but this year he was going with you. He had been making fun of you since you started planning your outing. He really didn't see why you needed such a structured plan. You were just going shopping it isn't that big of a deal. He now knows how wrong he was.

You woke him up at six in the morning. "Why are you up?" He grumbled, "The sun isn't even up yet." He'd never admit it, but he was very whiney as you dragged him out of bed. It was cold and dark, and he hated shopping. Why did he have to go with you!? He was cursing you in his head as he got dressed for a whole day of shopping. As you drove to the first store, he was beginning to get relieved that you made him come with you. He was glad that you wanted him to come with you, wanted him there to protect you from this giant crowd.

"Why the hell are so many people shopping? It isn't even seven am yet. No deal can be that good." You looked at him like he was insane. "No deal can be that good? Baby, I am getting us so much stuff for half price today." A shiver ran up his spine hearing how serious you sounded. "Sorry...what are we needing to get anyway?" You pulled out your plans, "i have a list. Each store has different items i want to get before we go home, but don't worry, it's not much. We just have to go to six different stores!" He groaned internally as he parked in the only parking spot left in the lot. Fuck this was going to be torture.

As the two of you walked up to the store, he was trying to prepare himself mentally. You showed him your list, and he was repeating to himself everything you wanted him to get for you. "Listen, Logan, you have to grab those toys for my nephews. I don't care what you have to do. Run grandma's over with the cart if you have to." His eyes widen slightly with the look on your face. "Baby... you're scaring me."

You rolled your eyes and nodded. "Good. Now, let's get the shit on the list." Logan nodded along with you, he was prepared for a battle, "let's fucking go sweetheart."

Tagging: if you'd like to be added to the taglist lmk! I'm also making a list for bucky so lmk if you'd like to be added to that

@userchai

@mahi-tamashi

@100percentlazybonez

@lanassmarty

@western-pyro

@misscrissfemmefatale

@marit332

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[gallifreyinstituteforlearning]

🍬 Five Weird Facts About Jelly Babies and the Doctor

Jelly babies are the Doctor's (nearly) lifelong obsession. Here are five fascinating facts you absolutely need to know about the Doctor’s intense (and sometimes disturbing) love for jelly babies.

1️⃣ The Doctor's obsession with jelly babies began in their 2nd incarnation. ❤️🍬

The Doctor appears to have discovered jelly babies during their 2nd incarnation, not the 4th, as some universal scholars might claim. While the 4th Doctor certainly made them his own, it was the 2nd Doctor who first started keeping a bag tucked away in his pocket.

2️⃣The 4th Doctor may have thought all Earth sweets were called jelly babies. 🤷‍���️🍬

The 4th Doctor loved jelly babies so much that he offered them to just about anyone, however, on several occasions, the 4th Doctor offered 'jelly babies' when he was actually holding something completely different, like liquorice allsorts.

Now, was this a case of innocent alien confusion? It's entirely possible the 4th Doctor simply assumed for a while that all Earth sweets were called jelly babies, but we may never know for sure.

3️⃣Later incarnations don't seem to like jelly babies anymore. ❌🍬

The 1st Doctor never mentioned or carried jelly babies, but let's give the fella the benefit of the doubt—it's entirely possible he simply hadn't met one yet.

However, the 13th, 14th, and 15th Doctors haven't really been seen to be munching on them, thinking about them, or offering them to friends (so far). Is the Doctor losing their love for jelly babies as they get older?

4️⃣The Doctor possesses an adult-sized jelly baby costume. 🤯🍬

You'd think I'd have something to write here to explain it, but I don't. Why does he have it? How did he get it? Honestly, got nothing.

5️⃣Different incarnations prefer different coloured jelly babies. ❤️🍭🍬

Each of the Doctor's incarnations seem to have their own preferences regarding the colour of their favourite jelly baby. The Fourth Doctor loved the orange ones, while the Eighth Doctor favoured the red. Next up on Gallifreyan uQuiz ... What does your jelly baby colour say about your incarnation?

(Drawn from TARDIS Wiki)

Whoniverse Facts for Friday by GIL

Any purple text is educated guesswork or theoretical. More content ... →📫Got a question? | 📚Complete list of Q+A and factoids →😆Jokes |🩻Biology |🗨️Language |🕰️Throwbacks |🤓Facts →🫀Gallifreyan Anatomy and Physiology Guide (pending) →⚕️Gallifreyan Emergency Medicine Guides →📝Source list (WIP) →📜Masterpost If you're finding your happy place in this part of the internet, feel free to buy a coffee to help keep our exhausted human conscious. She works full-time in medicine and is so very tired 😴

[chimneyz]

a preview of the next chapter of To Think We Could Stay the Same (a flashback scene):

(next chapter will be out today!)

Ground OPs was one thing Tommy avoided when he could, it wasn’t as freeing as being up in the air, doing one of the very few things man should never do. It amazed him how humanity worked hard to do the impossible, to chase dreams and become one with the sky above. Those were the times Tommy was able to forget his life, himself, and every minor to major concern that wrapped around Tommy’s mind. But today was not one of those days, Tommy and a few others were called in to deal with a raging fire engulfing a local distillery. 

The work was grueling, taking longer than anyone had expected. With the fire now out, Tommy searched the charred building for any hotspots that needed to be dealt with before becoming a raging fire once more. Ash coated Tommy’s skin, stinging his eyes, and covered his tongue. All he could taste was the filthy ash, all he could smell was the smoke. 

“Well, if it isn't Firefighter Kinard?” a familiar voice gleefully pierced the silence. 

Tommy turned with a smile watching as the familiar man moved closer to him, his smile bright, his bright blue eyes gleaming. 

“Firefighter Buckley, what a nice surprise,” Tommy giggled as Evan skipped closer ducking his head. Even under the helmet, Tommy could see the pink rising in Evan's cheeks. He loved the way Evan had his heart on his sleeve, how open and honest he really was. Evan lifted his head staring into Tommy's eyes, he could have sworn he saw starlight in Evan's big blues.

“Hey, I-I was wondering if we could meet up at yours tonight after our shifts. We could get take out, watch a movie, do other things…” Evan cooed. 

“Or,” Tommy replied, “We can head to yours, it is closer to both stations and we could get pizza from that place you love so much. More convenient that way.”

“Y-Yeah sure, as long as we are together that is all that matters,” Evan smiles “But we are not getting black olives on that pizza Tommy.” 

“Oh come on, not even half?” Tommy chuckled. 

“I will never understand how that is your favorite pizza topping, let alone how you can even stomach it.” 

“Says the man who likes to have weird fancy toppings on his pizza.”

“That prosciutto arugula pizza is the best pizza you ever had and you know it,” Evan gasped, “The saltiness from the prosciutto, the sweetness from the balsamic vinaigrette. The ricotta sauce underneath the mozzarella enhancing the flavor of the toppings. You wouldn't know good pizza if it hit you in the face.” 

Tommy laughed, with his laugh apparently being infectious, Evan followed suit, their laughs echoing throughout the building. 

“Buckley, get your ass back out here now, you've taken too long in there, now move or we leave without you!” Gerrard barked from the radio ending their laughter. 

“Duty calls,” Evan sighs. 

“Guess it does. Thought you'd have to say his name three times in order for him to appear,” Tommy said. 

Evan stares at him perplexed. 

“Oh come on,” Tommy says, “Say his name three times, like Beetlejuice?” 

Tommy must have grown another head with the way Evan looked at him. 

“Ok it's decided we are watching Beetlejuice tonight,” Tommy chuckled. “Can't believe my boyfriend hasn't seen Beetlejuice.” 

He watched as Evan's hands dropped to his side, his body growing tense. 

Shit, he said the word boyfriend didn't he? 

“S-Sorry,” Tommy mumbled, “I-It just slipped out I-” 

Evan goes in close, locking his lips against Tommy's. 

“Don't be sorry,” Evan gasped once releasing Tommy, “Never say sorry, not for that.” 

“S-So that was ok then?” 

“Yeah,” Evan smiled, “More than ok.” 

(chapter one available here)

[l2vedive]

BUTTERCUP w. kwon soonyoung (hoshi)

countryside boy x rich girl au (915)

pairing: kwon soonyoung (hoshi) x fem!reader

note: loosely based on the filipino romcom crazy beautiful you . please rb ur thoughts and give a like if you've enjoyed this read , thank you !

you’re trudging along the dusty road, fuming under the late afternoon sun, the straps of your heels biting into your feet. this place—this forsaken countryside—feels like the embodiment of everything your mother knows you hate. dirt, roads that lead to nowhere, endless fields, and the smell of livestock. your punishment couldn’t be more humiliating.

but you’re done playing her game. the bag over your shoulder holds just enough cash and a charger for your phone. you’d figured out the bus schedule last night; all you needed was to sneak out unnoticed. no more dealing with nosy neighbours or the suffocating boredom of country living.

but of course, nothing goes as planned.

"hey, miss," a voice calls from somewhere behind you. instinctively, you clutch your bag tighter and quicken your pace. it’s not the friendly sort of tone you'd expect from a stranger.

then, as if out of nowhere, someone grabs your arm. panic shoots through you as you try to yank yourself free, but the man is faster, rougher. your bag is ripped from your shoulder, and your heart lurches as you realise you can’t overpower him.

"get off me!" you scream, but the road is deserted, the fields stretching endlessly on either side. the man runs off, your bag slung over his shoulder.

before you can decide whether to chase after him or collapse in despair, someone else appears, jogging towards you.

"what the hell was that?" you demand as soonyoung stops in front of you, hands on his hips like he’s just finished a casual morning run.

“relaaaaxx,” he says, eyeing you like you’re some kind of puzzle. “you alright?”

"do i look alright?" you snap, but your voice wavers. you hate that you sound scared.

soonyoung doesn’t say anything for a moment, just looks in the direction the thief ran off. then, without warning, he bends down, sweeping you off your feet and hoisting you over his shoulder like you’re some kind of sack of rice.

"put me down!" you shriek, pounding at his back with your fists. he doesn’t even flinch, the muscles under his worn shirt taut as he starts walking down the road.

"you’re welcome," he says, smirking.

"welcome for what? you didn’t do anything!"

"you were about to pass out from panic. i’m saving you."

"by carrying me like this?!"

he chuckles, the sound low and infuriatingly casual. "you’d rather stay here alone? the thief might come back, you know."

you stop struggling for a moment, because damn it, he’s right.

he brings you to a small, slightly dingy motel on the edge of town. the sign flickers in and out, and the smell of damp wood hits you as soon as he sets you down in the doorway.

"you’ve got to be kidding me," you mutter, brushing yourself off.

"what? not five-star enough for you, princess?"

you glare at him. "why are you even helping me?"

“let’s just say i’m… invested in your journey,” he says with a smirk that sets your nerves on edge.

you fold your arms, not buying his vague answer. "and what���s that supposed to mean?"

"well," he starts, leaning casually against the doorframe, "it means i know you’re trying to run off back to the city. and i also know you’re not going anywhere now."

"how do you know that?" you demand, your voice rising.

he gives you a sheepish smile that somehow manages to infuriate you more. "because the guy who stole your bag is a friend of mine. and, uh, your mom hired us."

for a second, you think you’ve misheard him. "what ?"

"it was her idea. she wanted to scare you into staying put." he shrugs, like this is all perfectly reasonable.

you stare at him, mouth open. "you’re joking."

"not really," he says, looking annoyingly unbothered.

"so you’re in on this?"

he raises a hand in mock surrender. "hey, i’m just doing my job."

“your job ? ” you step closer, glaring up at him. "so you’re what? some kind of low class actor now?"

"general helper," he corrects, flashing you a grin. "i do odd jobs. sometimes legal, sometimes… less so."

you groan, dragging a hand down your face. "this is insane. my mother is insane."

"maybe," he says, his tone annoyingly light. "but she’s got good taste in collaborators."

you want to slap that smug look off his face, but you also can’t help noticing how sharp his jawline looks in the dim motel lighting. you shake the thought away.

"you’re lucky i don’t call the cops," you mutter, turning away.

"on who? your mom? " he teases, following you into the room.

“you’re infuriating,” you snap, spinning to face him.

"and you’re spoiled," he fires back, leaning in closer. his smirk is still there, but his voice drops an octave, taking on a flirtatious edge. "but i guess that’s why i took on such a strange yet fun request."

"fun?" you echo, eyes narrowing. "you think this is fun?"

he steps closer, close enough that you can see the gold flecks in his brown eyes. "admit it," he says, voice low. "you like the trouble."

you hate that your heart skips a beat at his tone, hate the way he’s looking at you like he knows exactly how to get under your skin.

"you’re delusional," you say, but it comes out weaker than you intend and you mentally slap yourself for it.

"hmm, maybe," he murmurs, a lazy grin spreading across his face. "but that's probably because you’re stuck with me now, buttercup."

— please do not copy , translate or repost any of my works anywhere.

© l2vedive on tumblr

[oathofkaslana]

lee oathofkaslana, i was wondering if you have any advice for getting into hi3, especially in regards to digging into the lore. i’ve been following along with your hi3 posts for literal months and i get more intrigued each time you discuss it so i finally decided to just go for it. i know theres the game/webtoon/animated shorts/cooking with valks but i’m not totally sure about how to go about approaching all of it and the more obscure elements (like the other games with the hi3 characters) because i don’t want to miss out on anything. is there a certain order of approach that you suggest? also, are there any resources that may help with taking it all in, like explaining the basics and the timeline or something like that? there’s no pressure to answer right away, i’m sure you might want time to compile your thoughts, i just trust your judgement on how to get into hi3 over trying to figure it out myself based on how knowledgeable you appear to be about everything.

cracks knuckles. anon im being so serious this made my day both bc of your kind words and bc its the perfect opportunity for me to infodump about hi3 resources (<- especially unfortunate part of my current interest on hi3 is that im a lil too deep into things about the game that dont really matter?? thats beside the point)

lee oathofkaslana's hi3 starter guide :) ps: important. please please read my warning in the comics section of other content.

reading lists! ok this is the most important thing so its going first. hi3's comics are a lot more important to the plot than like. genshin's. and its kinda annoying bc in some cases you'll be guided from going between chapters of the game to a comic and vice versa. i highly recommend checking out both of these reading lists: hoyostans reading guide (start from part 1 phase 1) archives wiki hi3 reading list the seconds a lot easier to follow imo! especially with the earlier ones. i personally prefer primarily using the second one and then consulting the first to see if there's any extra content that's missing (since some ggz/retconned hi3 comics are linked there and provide some context! the first one also has some very helpful notes from the OP!) i DO think that reading the comics in the order listed on the archives wiki and then starting chapter one is best. it might feel like a dip in story telling though but i promise it will get a lot btter once theyre a lot more stable w their game development and writing :)

other content: comics: ok first i have to put a warning. escape from nagazora is from ggz iirc and like. early ggz and early hi3 humor kinda sucks ass. there's awful sexualization of underaged girls and its weird about women and this is where a lot of the fetishization comes in. they're also not normal about consent here. also another warning about azure waters. it heavily references CSA and has an almost rape scene and i completely hated the way it was all visually portrayed. if needed I will gladly summarize these comics for you without any of those details. this aside, the comics are included in the reading guides! there are also non-canonical ones though! (4komas featured on the manga site and 4komas from the jp twitter! theres a google drive linked in the other post w fan translations. they're comedic and not at all canonical but they may spoil things since its run coincides with the game's progress so i dont really recommend reading them until you're farther along. atm i am just starting part 1.5 and ive read most of it, but i am intentionally avoiding newer ones just by looking at what design is in the thumbnail. they're very quick to read though dw!) animated shorts -> they are included in the game :) if you would prefer watching them in chinese, i'm afraid you'll have to look at it on youtube though :' for some reason on the western servers all the CG's in the first part are in japanese even if you switch your language to chinese. chronicles -> they're included in both the reading guides! theres some that aren't very lore relevant (dreams of gemima and kallen chronicles) but they're a fine source of weapons and crystals (hi3 equiv of primos) part 2 -> i haven't started it yet but from what i've seen, it's recommended that you finish part 1 before this. open-world -> again, follow the reading order for these :) the only exception is APHO because that takes place in the future (after part 1.5). i haven't finished it and i personally don’t plan to until after i do 1.5 in case there's any important spoilers! there are major hints that kinda spoil the end of part 1 though. <- same with the alien space comic. it takes place. sometime after APHO i think. other universe events -> primarily captainverse. obv these take place in a different universe! these characters are not the same as the main characters. iirc the only one that's really lore-relevant is honkai salvation log (it comes later in the game and later in the hoyostans reading guide!!) donghua: cooking with valks: not canonical content. season 1 is pretty safe but it is best watched after chapter 12 to get full context for some references! honestly you could probably get by with watching the rest of the series after imo but if you'd prefer to play it safe, the hoyostans guide includes it :) golden courtyard: do not watch this one until you finish chapter 31. journey crisis: do not watch this until you finish part 1.5 ggz/hg2: honestly. you don't need to know ggz for hi3. you would benefit from knowing the retrospective timeline's history for the main trio but from there on, ggz and hi3 follow completely different stories with different characters. honestly you could go by without knowing the main trio's history in retro i think its already explained enough in the main story and other media.

links. youtube: homulabs -> has cohesive lore videos that help a lot (esp later on)! also has some hsr stuff if you're interested :) hide's honkai archives -> playthroughs of all of part 1 completely in chinese (including cut scenes). also fixes up some of the translations since i believe the eng translations are translated from the jp dub! i mostly use this to both rewatch chapters when i need background noise and look at cutscenes with OP's translations. i find it interesting.. official hi3 youtube visual novels: again, look at the reading guides. im pretty sure think some of those links on both guides are wonky though so ill provide them here. ae visual novel (eng) shattered swords/7 swords visual novel (eng) durandal visual novel (eng) i also have a larger post with various links here build/combat: ok this is my weakspot. marisa honkai -> kind of unfortunate backbone of the hi3 community. allegedly kicked someone from his discord server for saying kiana is a lesbian. but his infographics are useful! he also has a youtube but i can't vet how his videos are o7 <- lore player and very obvious about it elysian realm shallow sequence -> in case you're ever struggling w this part. dont worry about it early game though you'll get to it in time. honestly its optional though so.

quick tips/loose info:

the wikis will be your best friend.

do the character trials!! they teach you how to use any of the characters and you can open them whenever you want! if the battlesuit is new, you will also get rewards if you do the trial in time :)

honkai has an absurd amount of currencies for some fucking reason. this is more of a warning than a tip.

ok imo hi3 combat is super super fun but my god the powercreep sucks asssssssss. i hate the process of building characters because you have to pull for characters signature gear and that equipment banner's pity doesnt carry over it fucking sucks.

BUT don't worry too much honestly if you are just playing for the story like i am it doesn't matter too much since you don't need to use your own valkyries for much (story wise). do at least build some though even to a minor degree (you will need them for chronicles)

speaking of gacha though! there's no 50/50 to worry about in honkai!

don't go into the chat for room 1 its fucking scary and full of weirdos (derogatory) and assholes. first and last time i went there i saw homophobes.

remember this is all for fun :) sorry if this seems long or wayyyy too serious i meant it when i say im awfully fixated on this fuckass game! i hope you enjoy it if you continue to play it :DD <3

[fala-alfredo-pasta]

On the topic of Nagito resenting Izuru, I actually think it could go beyond that. Something that I'm not totally convinced about is none of Class 77 having any hard feelings towards Hajime. While them loving him inside the simulation makes perfect sense, would that really carry over smoothly once they were back out? Because his actions led to both them being brainwashed and for their deprogramming session being sabotaged in the first place. And to add insult to injury, he can take some solace in feeling less "tainted" than they are. Izuru had more autonomy and self-control during the Tragedy, while they were reduced to vicious idiots acting on whatever violent impulse came to them. Like with Sonia, she has to live with being known to the world as the tyrant queen who brought her homeland to ruin (though I personally like to headcanon that Novoselic is recovering). Meanwhile for the few people who are aware of a 15th Remnant, Hajime is "that one other dude with the long hair that we're not even sure killed that many people". I mean if I came out of the NWP with all that mental (and possibly physical) baggage, and the dude in our group who was most responsible for the rest of us becoming so fucked up was conversely the least guilty of us AND got handed a thousand super-talents...well I think I'd be a wee bit resentful and jealous. And going back to Nagito, it also seems a bit unrealistic to me that in most fanfics there doesn't seem to be any resistance from him to accepting medical aid from Hajime. Or dismay at discovering it was done while he was in a coma. Because on top of him probably not feeling like he'd want to prolong his life, accepting that kind of aid from the former Izuru would probably feel kind of infantilizing to be honest. Dude gets handed everything you ever wanted including a better version of your luck, he betrays Hope's Peak because he's bored, does absolutely nothing while someone dear to you is murdered and you and your classmates get brainwashed, sets things up so that your attempted suicide will actually result in you getting possessed by your nemesis...and now you're just meant to let him assert the power of a doctor over you and welcome him as your savior? I just think there'd probably need to be a moment where Nagito is convinced to accept treatment, rather than it being done to him without his consent. Make him feel assured that he has agency and control over his own body, and that continuing to live was his own choice. Because otherwise I think it could get really nasty. " I don't care that you're the most talented man alive. Even if I'd wanted to live, you, of all people on this planet, YOU are the last human being on Earth that I would want help from."

Ooo this be a spicy take! But some very good points! First off, sorry for taking so long to reply to this question it just this got me back into my Dangan theorist mode, and I wanted to replay all of Chapter 0/6 as well as read a summary of Zero in order to re-examine how the game and novel present Izuru Kamukura.

I’ll try my best not to derail this because Izuru’s whole existence and backstory is just…..such a brain worm for me that I can speculate on for hours. There’s just so much we don’t truly know if we’re basing this solely on the games (which I usually prefer to do seeing as the anime is filled with contradictions). But, doing so would mean having to excuse his involvement (or lack of) in preventing Chiaki’s murder and class 77’s brainwashing since there’s nothing within the games that indicates such things happening since even within game it flat out states Junko manipulated her high power connections (ie: the Ultimates), one by one and not in a batch.

She really only used video footage of explicit killing to manipulate the Reserve Course into rioting (Dr0), the rest of the world into more despair (Dr1) and as a way to taunt the Future Foundation (SDR2). Hell, technically, there is no proof that Chiaki actually existed in real life if we’re going only by the games too. That was something canonized by the anime.

Well okay. There may be ONE thing in the second game that can potentially confirm Chiaki’s existence in the real world and that’s her presence being listed in the book Nagito got with everyone's info. However, this was given to him by Monokuma and Nagito did destroy any of the information regarding his classmates time in and out of  school that could have very well revealed that Chiaki wasn’t ever there—but I digress and this aint about Chiaki rn this is about Izuru.

What we do know of him through the game is that he sees himself as being used by Junko and thus brought in a flash drive with her AI to insert into the Neo World Program as a virus so he could use her instead. This feels contradictory though, if the end result would be Junko taking over all their bodies. You can’t even argue that he did it so Hajime could override his present self and come back because that would have happened regardless (that was literally what was SUPPOSED to happen). So then why bring Junko back? How was he using her in that regard? Well, the only thing I can think of is that he pretty much already knew how it was all going to end, and that creating a killing game was the only way to ensure everyone stayed alive whilst retaining their old memories thus decreasing the chance of them falling back into Ultimate Despair when re-awakened and in a way saying “fuck you” to Junko’s despair and destroying the last remnants of her both in name and digitally.

Cool beans. He still lied to them all though. Junko states that each of them willingly went into the program knowing well that her virus was going to force them into a killing game to cause despair. Izuru, though, didn’t tell them his whole plan or how it was truly going to end, otherwise no one would have joined. And that’s not necessarily bad–he was doing it for their own good! Except, well, there’s not conclusive proof that he did so for their sake (and since we don’t know if Chiaki existed irl we don’t know if he did this for her). Also given how indifferent he is in-game, the fact that his surgery left him emotionally distant, and his lack of connection with class 77, well it’d be easier to believe that Izuru did this all purely out of self interest in a way to get “revenge” at Junko and perhaps alleviate his boredom.

Now, present Hajime WOULD have an emotional investment in class 77 and it’s that reason he sticks around to help them recover. But, honestly, I agree that the ex-remnants would take some time to come around to fully trusting him again because remember: they ARE still recovering from despair. It would not be surprising if their residual remnant emotions feel betrayed by him for lying to them and essentially killing off Junko for good. Add in their in-game memories conflicting with their past memories every time they see Hajime and he’s not quite the same Hajime they befriended thus reminding them that he’s also  that guy who just randomly showed up one day then manipulated them into a scheme for seemingly his own self interest, yeeeah it might take them a while before being buddy buddy with him.

Though they will eventually, but let’s focus on Nagito for a bit because he’d be the absolute last person to come around in fully trusting Hajime/Izuru. Because you see, while it was stated that the remnants agreed to be part of the killing game, we know for a fact that not ALL of them did so. And we know this because of chapter 0. In it, we see Nagito meeting Izuru for the first time (as Nagito literally says he’s never seen Izuru before), thus Izuru has not been in contact with Nagito to inform him of the plan (which actually brings into question WHY Nagito is even there/agreed to re-programming but that’s a theory for another day). We also see Nagito being very confused about Izuru’s talking about his flash drive with Junko’s AI in it. And, although he doesn’t fully understand what Izuru is planning, what he takes from it is that he’ll be able to see Junko again and get the chance of killing her himself. Izuru does not correct him or inform him of anything else. Meaning, Nagito knows absolutely nothing of the killing game he unknowingly signed up for nor of the possibility of his body being taken over by Junko.

In other words: NAGITO DID NOT CONSENT TO THIS AT ALL.

Unlike his classmates who can forgive Hajime’s actions as Izuru because yeah technically they DID agree to it, Nagito was not even informed much less had the option to say yes. You can argue that Izuru did so intentionally knowing that Nagito’s strange half-remnant state and intense resentment towards despair and Junko would have made him too much of a risk to the plan that is was better to leave him in the dark, but it still doesn’t change the fact that Nagito didn’t get a choice. Add in our previous discussion of why Nagito would be resentful towards Izuru because of all his gifted talents along with this and I’d say yeah, Nagito wouldn’t be all that welcoming toward accepting Hajime’s help post game.

This doesn’t even add in your note on pro-longing his life without his input or anything from the anime, so if Chiaki’s death was actually used as a trigger for class 77 and Izuru could have done something about it–YEAH that’s going to make the resentment exponentially worse.

So your last tidbit of Nagito getting a chance to decide something for himself just hits so strongly given he never got the chance to do so before. It’s the least he deserves now.

[kg2hub]

kindergala? more like: lou singlehandedly revives the kindergarten tumblr rp community part 2 electric boogaloo /lh /silly

[telekitnetic-art]

Indigenous person here, and I definitely agree that the "tribal cheese" and the mechanics surrounding it should be changed. I was really enjoying pizza tower and the fanart being made of it, but the stereotyped enemy made me cringe hard. also the fact that it was originally announced or created in 2019 as an enemy isn't really an excuse, because Indigenous people have been calling out bullshit stereotypes since the 90s. And the fact that it made it into a game released in 2023 is even more embarrassing to me. Like... no one saw the enemy labelled "tribal cheese" with the leaf/feather headband carrying a tomahawk and doing ""rain dances"" around a totem pole as potentially racist???

I've seen a couple people excuse it as "oh, the whole game is based on stereotypes, look at the main character" and like. you guys need to understand that the "mamma mia i cooka the pizza" trope is not on the same level of seriousness as racist tropes that have had a tangible impact on Indigenous people for decades.

I'm not a spokesperson for Every Single Indigenous person ever, so maybe other Indigenous people have different opinions on the "tribal cheese" enemy and how it should be handled/changed. This also isn't me saying "boycott the game/attack the creator" at all, or that anyone who plays it is a horrid person. But this is an issue that should be talked about, and this whole situation with the enemy stereotypes is really a "man, come on." moment to me.

So anyway -

The point is that Pizza Tower still has a racist, outdated stereotype of Indigenous people in the Oregano Desert level.

It even has a achievement for rain dancing around a totem pole (totem poles are a Pacific Northwest thing, not a Plains Tribe thing). They war cry at you and they throw tomahawks (because it's always tomahawks or spears).

Bellyache about the screencaps being 5 years old if you want, but the stereotype made it into the game, so he hasn't changed that much. He didn't change enough to have a shred of awareness about using a racist stereotype. And before anyone tries: that trope isn't a hallmark of Wario games or 90s animation, it's a hallmark of racism.

Even if he "doesn't" make bigoted jokes anymore (though I would consider the Tribe Cheese one such joke), he made an entire level based around that trope.

And like every other time there's an anti-Indigenous caricature in videogames or popular media, it doesn't get mentioned, or it gets glossed over because the creator went "Oopsie! That was cringe."

The exclusion of the Tribe Cheese from that salvo of screenshots undermines the entirety of it, because it's a solid example of him not having changed enough to be conscious beyond "that was unfunny," and everyone just focuses on what he said and when - without the connection to how that mindset still lingers in the final product of the game.

[rxmye]

" 𝐈 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 "

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐉𝐎𝐂𝐊 — a confident athlete who turns into pathetic putty at the thought of you . . .

nsfw / sixteen + content / smut / gender neutral reader / yandere content / sub!yandere / masturbation / pervert yandere (he literally breaks into the locker room for your shit) / olfactophilia/osmolagnia (scent/smell kink) / dacryphilia (kink for crying) / breath play / yandere oc x reader

masterlist | requesting rules | character info . . . a/n: haven't wrote smut in awhile, so im a bit rusty . . .

Lucas dangled the keys in his hands, a grin playing on his face as he walked towards the locker room—using the key to unlock the door—it was pretty easy grabbing the keys from the janitor's room, not that this school was particularly secure with their locks. It would be pretty easy breaking in, if he tried hard enough . . 

Lucas scanned the area, looking through each locker trying to find which one was yours . . he had your lock combination memorized, though he did get a little help from a friend in order to figure it out.

His hands reached for the clothes that you had left in your locker, lifting it up to his face, eyes going half lidded as he inhaled your intoxicating scent, he felt his face growing warm and his body growing weak. Lucas leaned down onto the lockers for support, almost losing balance as he slid down onto the floor.

Lucas pressed the flimsy piece of clothing further onto his face, engulfing himself in your smell—so much so that he could almost taste you—all the while his other hand travelled downwards, clumsily unbuckling his pants in a hurry . . hasty movements contradicted his rational mind, not bothering to care if he'd get caught.

He slid his pants down, just enough to reveal his semi-hard cock—a soft whine escaped him at the feeling of the cold air—his free hand now teasing his tip, as he relaxed his body, closing his eyes shut . .—imagining how disgusted you'd be seeing him in this pitiful state— . . that really turned him on, he cussed under his breath at how pitiful and pathetic his thoughts were . .

Lucas wrapped his hand around the base of his cock, slowly moving his hand up and down—his vision growing hazy—as he let out breathy sighs of pleasure—whines growing louder when he moved his hand faster.

Lucas stuffed the clothing he took, and pushed it into his mouth—drool escaped the corners of his mouth—blocking his ability make a sound, as he moved his hand faster around his cock—little tear droplets stinging his eyes, as he felt his legs shake slightly at the sheer pleasure—he used his now free hand to pinch his nose, closing his only source of air . . .

All he could taste was you, the clothing taking away all the moisture in his mouth, as tears begin to escape his eyes, saliva escaping the corners of his mouth, dripping onto his clothing—his legs began to convulse—his back arching slightly, as he finally came, all over the floor . . .

Lucas spat out the fabric, "fuck", the bell rang . . How is he gonna clean up this mess fast enough? . .

@ rxmye , do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work/theme without prior permission and or confirmation.