#i fucking love subatomic particles

[moistdragonfruit]

I made this after dumping a bunch of info about leptons onto my friend today skfjdkkdjd

#physics #particle physics #nuclear physics #leptons #electrons #tau #muon #local autistic likes subatomic particles #subatomic particles #quarks #the lepton brothers #i fucking love subatomic particles

[shmreduplication]

i know this is like totally two weeks ago or whatever but the worst take i saw wrt fairies and walruses was that proof of fairies/magic is more surprising because it would fundamentally change everything we know about everything because suddenly we would know about this universal and invisible force that controls/affects everything in the world or even the universe

and I think that person just had really bad science history education because we HAVE found a universal and invisible force that controls/affects everything in the world or even the universe and, well, it did not change everything we know about everything. It's actually happened multiple times and a new industry pops up to further study it and everyone else just kinda goes on with their lives

Like.....atoms are an invisible universal force. Electrons took longer for people to discover/prove because they're smaller than atoms, and they're also an invisible universal force. DNA is an invisible force that's universal in living beings. Fuckign gravity is an invisible universal force. People still went to work in the day and slept at night and loved their friends and ate buttery foods before and after the discovery of all those things, and the discovery did not affect what they knew about their jobs or sleep or friends or buttery foods

Assuming you're actually old enough to be on tumblr (aka are already 13 years old as of March 18, 2024) then another one of these discoveries has happened within your life time! And it had absolutely fuck all impact on your life unless you're a subatomic particles physicist. The higgs boson was literally nicknamed the god particle and was confirmed to exist in 2013 and that discovery means absolutely nothing to anyone outside of that one small field in physics. Like obviously its existence impacts you because it gives you mass and lets gravity affect you but its discovery means jack shit

[the-blind-assassin-12]

The Purest Element

1200 words for 1200 followers #8

A/N: Hi friends! Welcome to the 12-A-Palooza! This event is my way of saying thank you for sticking with me. Your support and kindness toward me and my writing is out of this world and I’m grateful for every last one of you! This one takes place in the Bad Idea universe, but could be read as stand alone, too. All you need to know is that Reader is an artist, and these two newlyweds love each other so much it's stupid. Please enjoy this moment of loving, supportive, domestic fluff with more than a hint of spice. 💚

Warnings: language, a little bit of very light smut with heavy suggestion of more to come, little bit of late night toking.

Requested by: @jessahmewren Song: Strangeness and Charm Character Choice: Once again I was given the choice between two characters, and once again I chose against Ezra. Who even am I?! (Don't worry, my favorite spaceman will get his due very soon.) The song is a play on scientific terms and how love, like chemical reactions, can be beautiful and pure as well as volatile and unbalanced. Fun fact: "Strangeness" and "Charm" are characteristics of two types of Quarks, which are subatomic particles that make up all matter. (please note, I am not a scientist and my understanding of these terms is only at a surface level like Dieter's is in this piece.) I hope you enjoy this little science lesson given by none other than Dr. Bravo himself.

Summary: You have to stay up late to take a call for work and Dieter waits up for you... and can't wait to share what he's learned for a new role he's got coming up.

“Thanks again. I know it’s quite late in Los Angeles, so I really do appreciate you setting the time aside to take the call. It was great chatting with you.” Hattie, the owner of a London art gallery that you were arranging a show for, gave you a bright smile. “And I’m very much looking forward to meeting you in person next week.” 

Despite how tired you were - the time difference not doing you any favors for a video call that was scheduled at 10 am there - you grinned back at her. “Same here.” You finished up by confirming the details again, and as the clock in the bottom corner of your laptop changed to 3:26 am local time, you closed the window and shut your screen. 

It’s happening. 

It was going to be your first international show, and you were thrilled about what taking that step meant for your career. Booking in London had been a goal of yours for as long as you could remember. The fact that it was only a few days away from becoming reality hadn’t fully sunk in yet, and you expected that it wouldn’t until you saw your work hanging at Hattie’s place. And the fact that when you did finally get to have that moment, Dieter would be there with you, only made you that much more excited. 

He’d been to plenty of your openings in New York and L.A., even one in Denver. But this was the first one he would attend as your husband, the two of you fresh off your honeymoon and just starting to get back to work. In a rare stroke of luck regarding your schedules, Dieter had gotten a role in a movie that was set to start filming in London three days after your collection opened, so him being there wouldn’t even require any extra travel. 

It couldn’t have worked out better. 

Stretching your shoulders, you rose from the armchair in the corner of the study and flicked the light switch on the wall. You were exhausted, but there was still a baseline hum of excitement buzzing through your veins, and as you padded down the hallway and into the living room, the sight that awaited you there only intensified that feeling. 

Oh, would you look at him? Fuck. You bit your bottom lip as you entered the room, smiling around your teeth. That’s my husband. 

Sprawled across the couch on his stomach, iPad open in front of him and a joint held between two fingers to create a halo of smoke around his wild curls, Dieter looked up as he heard you come in. “Hey.” He set the joint down in one of the grooves of the ashtray he was using and sat up, one leg tucked under his body and a lopsided grin curving his lips. “How’d it go?” 

You let out a sigh as you sunk down into the couch beside him. “Fine.” His arm came around you as you reached for the still-burning joint and took a small hit. This’ll help me wind down for bed at least. Exhaling, you leaned against him, his well-worn pullover sweater soft and comforting. “Hattie just wanted to finalize everything.” You hummed, setting the joint back where you took it from before looking up at him. “Why’re you still awake?” Lifting your hand up, you raked your nails through his hair and around his ear. “You didn’t have to wait up for me. It’s late, and-” 

Dieter leaned down to press his lips against yours, cutting you off.  “I wanted to take my wife to bed.” 

The tone of his voice simultaneously made your heart swell and made heat pool low in your belly - because you knew very well what he was capable of once he got you where he wanted you. You whimpered as you kissed him back. I want that, too, Dieter. 

He pulled back with a smirk, clearly pleased with the reaction he’d caused in you. He knows exactly what he does to me. And he likes it. “And - ” He used the arm that was around you to reach for his iPad, picking it up and handing it to you. “I figured it wouldn’t be a bad idea to do some more research for the new role. This shit is incredible.” 

You let out a small laugh at the way he so easily switched from seducing you to excitedly sharing what he’d learned in his digging. Glancing down at the page he had open, your eyes widened. “Charm Quarks and Antimatter.” Shaking your head and blinking rapidly, you set the device down on the coffee table. “What the fuck does that even mean?” 

He snorted and gave a half shrug, your body moving with the movement of his where you were still leaning into him. “Honestly I think I went a little deeper down the rabbit hole than I needed to, because I … They’re… subatomic particles? I think? I don’t know, I just kept clicking links and it just seemed like a wild read.” That got a full fledged laugh out of you, but he went on. “I did start out reading some things that were relevant to the part, though.” 

The new movie was called The Purest Element, and it told the story of a Physicist - played by Dieter - who had set out to prove that love was nothing more than a chemical reaction, only to fail and fall in love with one of his test subjects. It was a dramatic role that required the confident delivery of a lot of technical scientific jargon, so Dieter wanted to make sure that he familiarized himself with some of the terms. You had no doubt that while you were in the other room on your Zoom call, he was using his phone to record himself pronouncing things like “electron-positron colliders”.

“Did you?” You asked through a yawn. He nodded, the tip of his nose bumping your cheek as he trailed his lips toward your ear. “Like what?” You mumbled the question as you felt him shift his hold on you to ease you down onto the cushion. 

“Like… how when I touch you?” He dragged his hand slowly up your thigh, pinky snagging on the hem of your shorts before he continued his path upwards. “When my skin touches your skin?” You sighed as he inched his fingertips under your top, trailing them over your belly and to your side, your shirt hiking up around his wrist. “And you get all flustered?” He nipped at your earlobe, the contact forcing your lips to part, a ragged breath slipping out. “What you’re really feeling is a catalytic reaction brought on by friction.” His hand slipped all the way up beneath your shirt to cup your breast. 

“Sounds…” You swallowed as he worked his tongue around the small stud earring you were wearing, your fingers twining through his hair as you tipped your head back. Fuck that feels amazing. “Sounds very scientific, Dieter. Maybe we should do some more experiments just to be sure.” 

There was a spark in his eyes as he responded. “See? Had to stay up. It’s for science.” 

.

.

Thank you for reading! If you’d like to be added to or removed from the tag list, please feel free to let me know. You can also fill out the form on my Masterlist! :)

tags: @something-tofightfor @littlemisspascal @tentacruels @alraedesigns @practicalghost @trickstersp8 @princessxkenobi@imtryingmybeskar @mswarriorbabe80 @theredwritingwitch @silverstarsandsuns @pedro-pedrito-pascalito @jedi-in-crocs @chiyo13 @myloveistoolittle @Noisynightmarepoetry @haylzcyon

#12 a palooza! #1200 followers 1200 words #dieter bravo #dieter bravo x female reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x reader #bad idea dieter #dieter bravo the bubble #dieter bravo fic #pedrostories #pedro pascal character #dieter bravo one shot #strangeness and charm #the purest element #Spotify

[blindmagdalena]

crawling into your blog like this to deep fry my school/work-fucked brain in homelander fics and unlock that subatomic particle of serotonin that will keep me sane

oh kenny!!! 😭😭😭 i love you!! rest your weary head upon his heavily padded bosom. suffocate your woes betwixt them. be soothed by his insistence you quit your capitalist pursuits to pay attention only to him!!!

#ask and you shall receive

[homoose]

Also, TMSIDK Concept that popped into my brain last night: Spencer has to get up earlier than Reader for work, so he writes little sticky notes for them and puts them where he knows she’ll see them as she’s getting ready for the day. Just little declarations of love or corny jokes to make her smile. And since Reader is usually out of work before Spencer, she does the same thing for him.

TMSIDK!reader 🥰 I don’t know if this was technically a blurb request, but i think it fits best as a blurb

———

Y/N hummed at the press of his lips against her temple. She could feel his smile against her skin, warm as the blankets that he’d tucked in close around her sleeping frame. When he pulled back, she whined, eyes fluttering open in the still dark room.

He shushed her, sitting back next to her on the bed. “You still have about an hour to sleep. We’ve got a case.”

“Out of town?” she mumbled.

“Mhm.” He smoothed a hand over her hair. “I’ll call you tonight if I can?”

“Please,” she agreed.

He leaned over her again, pressed his mouth to hers, minty breath ghosting over her face as he murmured. “I love you.”

“I love you, save lives, come home.” It had become a sort of mantra for her, and an unspoken agreement between them that he would do everything in his power to come home to her in one piece.

He pressed another chaste kiss to her mouth. “I’ll do my best.”

And then his weight was gone from the bed, and she heard the click of the front door behind him, and the apartment was quiet.

She didn’t sleep much after that, the aroma of coffee drifting through the apartment, and the temperature of the bed just a little too cool without him next to her. With a sigh, she heaved herself out of the bed a full twenty-five minutes before the alarm.

She grabbed her phone before shuffling to the bathroom, stifling a yawn behind her hand. A flash of pink on the mirror caught her eye, and she smiled as soon as she saw the chicken scratch scrawled across the post-it.

Good morning, Miss Honey. Have a day as sweet as you are.

There was another note stuck to the side of her favorite coffee mug.

I’ve never had a buzz quite like the one I get from you.

And another on her teacher bag.

Thanks for teaching me more than I could have learned from any book. I love you.

She tucked the notes into her wallet and then pulled on her jacket as she shot off a text to him.

Y/N: You’re very cute. ♥️ Miss Honey 🍯

Spencer: Just repaying the favor. Miss you already.

...

On the jet, he opened his wallet, pulling out a handful of his own worn, multi-colored paper squares.

morning, BFG 🤍 have a BFD (beautiful, fucking fun day)

we must be subatomic particles because I feel a strong force between us 🤍

I’d stay in bed all day with you if I could. but alas, one of us has to actually make money

sorry for poking fun at your salary. you’re worth a million bucks to me 🤍 and I wanna spend the rest of my life getting out of student debt with you

I can’t think of anything cute today but I love you more than I can fit on a sticky note anyway 🤍

thanks for being the best lab partner in this weird and wonderful thing called love. 🤍 I love you, Spencer

#homoose 1k 💎 #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #homoose writes #tmsidk

[carcinized]

KING I COULDNT READ YOUR PAPER ABOUT THE AU CAUSE IM STUPID BUT I WOULD LOVE TO HEAR ABOUT IT PKEASE

NO DUDE THAT PAPER IS NOT FOR READING THAT THING IS INCOMPREHENSIBLE TO ANYONE BESIDE ITS CREATOR. A FACE ONLY A MOTHWR COULD LOVE FR.

this got long oops. wnjoy

ok but BASICALKY so like. there’s this planet called C-17 (solar system C, body 17). it’s this rocky place with magma for oceans, closest to its orbital star so it’s super hot, super small (about 1/4 the size of earth) so its gravitational pull is about 2.68 m/s^2. that’s around the gravitational pull of our earth’s MOON for context.

the native people of the planet are dragon like humanoids (i think,, this might change tho. im simply fond of dragon!tubbo headcanons and it kinda fits w the environment. might change it to a mc mob from the nether tho ?).

the planet used to have tons of [material i need to make up] to be mined but despite the work conditions being unsafe (you could literally mine into lava) it was all mined out. C-17’s economy has been entirely reliant on its [material] and is now kind of the universe’s wasteland.

to make matters worse, an asteroid has recently slammed into C-17. you see, C-17 is wedged between its sun and an asteroid belt, and usually, things are fine, but recently a huge rock was knocked out of orbit and hit C-17. its continents have been shattered and its orbit has been fucked up, it’s now even closer to the sun than BEFORE and getting hotter and hotter.

of course, other superpowers in the universe aren’t going to let this slide. you see, C-17’s only major investment other than its gold industry was in flying and specifically, space travel.

C-17’s low gravitational pull makes it both an easy place to launch large things into space, but also an incredibly hard environment to navigate. and besides just having a low gravitational pull, the air is so thin there that air resistance hardly matters, so it’s something akin to sliding on ice. this makes it an incredible training ground for pilots planning to go to space. C-17 has an incredible space program and fleet.

and recently, a certain scientist on that planet has been studying subatomic particles (without the government’s approval. oops). in particular, he’s studying one—one that has no matter, in fact has antimatter. you see, with antimatter, travel through worm holes might be possible—meaning both incredibly fast travel over space, but also travel through time.

unfortunately, this scientist is captured by the same superpower that controlled their mines and thrown into prison and told to keep working, but not before he gives his best friend the keys to his ship and tells him to break him out. when he’s there, he refuses to work, meets a new friend, and ends up having to break himself out when his best friend doesn’t show. queue a trip back to the lab, a discovery, and a rocky-but-successful first attempt at time travel to go back and time and save him.

hehehehe bench trio go brrr what do you think jamie. the plot is very loose & i need to do more worldbuilding (especially of the mean planet, plus wherever ranboo is going to be from i need to give him a home planet too) but !!!!! :D i think it’s cool

#space au #<- tag for it for now ig ! it doesn’t have a name yet LOL #ask #jamie !

[traegorn]

I started writing this as a response to @asksecularwitch but it was getting too long.

When I say studying quantum physics got me into witchcraft, I NEVER mean that the direct science somehow confirmed magic's existence. Or that the bizarre nature of subatomic particles somehow directly explain any of my witchcraft.

What I mean is that I had a concrete view of the universe growing up. Like everything that existed was material, and behaved in a specific way -- and I took for granted that the things I couldn't see ALSO worked that way. When I learned I was wrong, and that science proved me wrong -- like the uncertainty principle and the observer effect right fucked me up. 😆

So I started looking at the world differently. All the paranormal stuff and weird things I loved as a kid. Because the only reason I had dismissed them was because they didn't fall into a model of the universe which I was coming to realize wasn't even real. It gave the universe a sense of mystery again.

That's what I mean when I say that. Not some new agey misunderstanding of the science. Just that I finally didn't have all the answers myself.

#Witchcraft #witchblr #witch

[hereisleo]

stardust in our veins/

w/ s.mg x reader

g/ college!au, fluff, budding romance

w.count/ 2814

a.n/ in which upcoming astrophysicist and model song mingi is in a dilemma over the soon to be love of his life. a part of ‘back to school’ writing event with @kpopscape

t.w/ swearing

“The universe is under no obligation to make sense to you.”

Well, fuck. Mingi thinks his luck is the worst. The one time he needed the universe to make sense of course it wouldn’t. Then again turning to his astrophysics texts for guidance in the matter of love is the wrong place to start. Love doesn’t make sense like the universe, much of it still undiscovered and will continue to remain so. There’s only so much humans can learn and that by no means is little. He’s simply too finite to understand all the ways the universe has to offer. The perks of being mortal in his opinion.

His phone lights up, a notification appears on his screen. Don’t be late, Min! Right, he has to model for his friend tonight. He sends a quick confirmation text, a little cute onomatopoeia of ‘ang!’ Out of place with his stoic exterior yet that’s how he is, best of both worlds. Mathematics and astrophysics. Fashion industry and music. He could make it anywhere he wants to be. Mingi is confident in himself, he knows he has most of the skills set required to pursue all of his dream occupations. So he straightens the loose pages of a printed pdf file and tuck them into its folder. He could buy the textbooks but why would he do that? He likes to eat the rich so to speak. All his earnings go to tuition and he would live smartly to make it through another year.

The chair squeaks in the quiet library and he winces, slightly apologetic at the flinches from students studying in the library. He doesn’t dwell much in it, he slings his back over his shoulder and pushes his chair in, lifting it a touch to prevent the grating noise. He nods at the librarian and mouths his, ‘bye.’ And it’s just him and his little kidney beans, AirPods, pumping music into his ears. He makes his way around the ground, weaving through passing students going to different classes, the stares he receives are not foreign. He’s used to it. He’s always a head and some more taller than the average or maybe it’s his clothes or his colourful hair or the way he carries himself is out of place within the Department of Astrophysics. Mingi looks like someone from the Department of Arts. A fashion or music student. Some would say he’s here because of an athletic scholarship. He is simply exercising his freedom to wear whatever he wants.

Sik-K’s “Habibi” starts playing and he mumbles his curses, a love and hate relationship he has with his playlist. He just managed to distract himself from thinking about love and here he is, back to wallow in his one-sided pining. Pitiful. You’re pathetic, Song Mingi. His strides languidly back to his shared apartment, not too far off from campus, he could take the car but he likes to walk when the weather is nice. He wonders when did he begin liking you. The first time he sees you is in the Arts building when you were fitting his feline-like friend into a stage costume. He thinks he fell for how your brow knits together in concentration as your fingers deftly repaired loose embellishment of pearls on the velvet suit jacket. He vividly recalls how inky the fabric was, similar to the sky that night, Mars was visible from the big window at the fashion studio. He would catch glimpses of you here and there and because of that, his visits to the Arts building increased. His friends caught on immediately and they wouldn’t live it down.

Before he knows it, he’s already punching the security codes on his door. A happy greeting of his name falls short with an amused laugh. Even his best friend could tell, he’s wallowing in his feelings. Mingi whines, kicking his shoes off before unceremoniously taking all the space on the couch. Good thing his playlist has come to its end, he takes out the little kidney beans from his ears and let it rest on the coffee table.

“Love doesn’t make sense, Yunho,” he groans, burying his face against the giant brown bear plushie. A hand pats his head, “Love doesn’t make sense and so does the universe yet you love them the same.” Mingi thinks Yunho has been skimming through his astrophysics texts but highly unlikely, Yunho doesn’t enjoy reading. He sighs and nuzzles deeper into the belly of the soft toy. Hell, he much rather snuggle with you but alas you’re a distant star out of his reach. He could only see you behind the lenses of his telescope. He will make do with the bear and his friends for now. He likes being alone, he likes his space but he hates the feeling of loneliness that comes out to play every once in a while. More often now since he has you to pin over. His friends could only do so much for him.

Fuck you, Kim Hongjoong. Mingi keeps his head low and skirts around the photographer. You. He isn’t not aware you’ll be shooting him today, figuratively and literally. Yeosang has a shit eating grin on his face when Mingi sits on the chair to get his makeup done. “Not a word, Yeosang,” he mumbles and the grin widens. His friend only wipes his face clean before starting off with a quick skincare. He’s used to this, the gentle toner in white and blue packaging and the light cream patted into his skin. His friend went the length to purchase them specifically for him. He keeps his eyes trained on the mirror, tracking your movements all over the studio, talking to Hongjoong, toying with the navy and silver camera strap. He remembers buying the strap for Jongho when the old one was too worn out for use. It reminds him of the starry sky and it’s now in your hold. He bites his lip, it shouldn’t feel intimate yet here he is almost astral projecting because it feels as if you are holding part of his universe. Stop it, Mingi!

His pseudo makeup artist taps his abused lip with a warning tut, a red stain is smudged lightly before a clear gloss is patted over them so it doesn’t dry out his lips. Yeosang always scolds him for having chapped lips and this time Mingi sports dark smokey eyes, he could see hints of burgundy mixed into the brown shadows. Yeosang gives him a wink before sending him off to change. Hongjoong is a genius for designing outfits and he’s honoured to be one of the models walking in it. He wishes nothing but the best for the clothing line launch to be successful but he would be lying if he doesn’t want to wipe the smirk off the designer’s face right now.

Your fingers graze the skin of his back, his shoulders tensed and he presses his lips together to prevent any noise from escaping his mouth. Fuck this shoot. You’re just pinning his jeans because it’s slightly too big. Mingi wants to run home into the comfort of his bed and screams. Your radiating body heat is so warm and perhaps this is as close as he would ever to touch you, the human embodiment of the universe. He shouldn’t be this hypersensitive yet here he is flustered beyond his imagination. His lungs feel like they are collapsing. You are the 3-degree temperature difference in intergalactic space he learned about. His body couldn’t manage to reach equilibrium. Being around you makes his blood cells want to burst, the lack of atmospheric pressure puts a dizzy spell on him. Mingi thinks you’re an amazing being like the supercharged subatomic particles travelling almost just as fast as the speed of light. There’s only 0.1% difference. Magnificent.

Hongjoong and Yeosang smirk at his struggles. They are no strangers to his ‘internally screaming’ countenance. Mingi would have book it if they let him suffer any longer. He takes one look into the mirror, the long leather coat adds some invisible height to him, he appears taller than he already is and the chunky ribbed turtleneck accentuate his long neck. He glances over to the few more pieces hanging on the rack. Hongjoong kills it with the A/W capsule collection. He couldn’t wait to get into the patchwork trench coat and the purple overshirt that catches his attention since the prototype era. The universe has expanded further into infinity since then.

A gentle call of his name and the barely there touch on his back jolts him out of his reverie, eyes boring into yours almost bewitched. Your hand is right over where his birthmark is hidden under the layers of fabrics. “Mingi?” Your voice. Damnit, it’s so soft to his ears and the way his name rolls off your tongue raises the hairs on his arms. He dazedly hums in response, “Yes, stars?” The composition of a human being is as old as the universe itself, there are stardust running in the veins of mortals. He sees the brightest stars in your eyes. He doesn’t realise what he just called you, the term of endearment he refers you as in his head slips out to be immortalised. Sound waves travel into space and beyond, he can’t take back what he said. Your cheek is hot under his fingertips, in moments of bravery or stupidity, Mingi manages to string together a sentence, “Let’s take some pictures shall we?”

Bless Hongjoong for hooking up the music. He would run away if Taemin’s “Criminal” didn’t start playing. Don’t explode now. One more step to the front of the red backdrop. What foolish action did he do? How did he have the courage to talk to you and more over actually feel your skin under his fingers? He wants to scream and curl up on the floor. I did not just do that! Yeosang gives him a thumbs up for the corner of the studio. Thank heavens for his friends. He lets the electronic beats fill him and he loses himself in the act. His friends once told him, he’s a good actor. Now is the time for him to maximise the skill. A teasing drag of his bottom lip between his teeth, the smouldering gaze as he pierces through the camera lens straight at you just as the lyrics spews, ‘Destroy me more.’ Two can play this game and Mingi finds it relieving to find he’s not the one who is affected. It doesn’t quite make sense to you how he likes you and it doesn���t quite make sense to him how you like him. He’s not built for chasing love but now he knows you do have an interest in him, he takes the liberty to pursue it. He wouldn’t pour his love onto you yet. He has class and he’s not going to do anything that might spook you. Yes, he acts like an idiot sometimes but he’s not an idiot. He wants to make sure if you really have taken a liking of him or if he’s merely a passing interest. He doesn’t like getting hurt.

One wardrobe change and then two, the playlist continuous on, the hours blurred together. Mingi is in his last outfit, lying on the brown leather couch covered with colourful rugs and you’re hovering over him with the DSLR. He gives you, no, he means the camera, his best smirk and provocative lift of his eyebrow. From the corner of his eyes, Yeosang and Hongjoong are curling into each other to stifle bubbling laughter while monitoring all the shots appearing on the computer. The addictive riff of “Teeth” by 5 Seconds of Summer has him unbuttoning the purple overshirt. His friends are slapping each other and he hears you take sharp intake of breath. He is enjoying this way too much and he might as well. If he’s going to explode now is the time. Before the night ends, before the sky lightens, he would explode like a supernova, powerful and bright enough for its light to glow for more than a week. It’s rather selfish of him to make himself linger in your mind in a rather unorthodox fashion but he couldn’t help it, the opportunity is there for the taking. At some point the two nuclei would collide to create a new element, Mingi hopes it’s his and yours.

The following day Mingi wakes up to a series of texts in the group chat. The sheer amount of caps lock yelling are not anything new so he didn’t check it yet. He raises his arms and lets his muscles sing with the stretch. His feet kiss the cool floor and he makes his way out to do his day off routine. “Morning, Yunho,” he greets, his voice still rough from sleep, it sounds deeper even to his own ears. He hears his roommate rustling about in the living room and feet padding hurriedly to his direction, “Afternoon already, Min! And you can’t say that nonchalantly after what you did last night! You didn’t tell me this!” What did he do last night? Ah, right! He was modelling for Hongjoong, saw you and flirted with you indirectly through the camera lens. Yunho shoves his phone in front of him.

An A-cut photograph from the shoot is attached in the chat by Hongjoong. He was in the half open purple overshirt and sunglasses hanging between his teeth, glaring straight at whoever is looking at the picture. Consecutive texts from his friend group are under it, nothing but praises and Yunho is always first to compliment him. My best friend right there! Following the trail of text bubbles, he finds a short video. He presses the play button and immediately blushes, hiding his face in his hands with an exasperated sound. Last night model Mingi was brave enough to reach for the camera. In fact, he reached past it and cradled your cheek in his palm. “It was for the shoot!” Yunho pockets his phone. “Mingi. You eye fucked the camera through and through. In fact, it’s not the camera, it’s your ‘stars’.” The mirth in Yunho’s voice is enough to draw another whine from him. He couldn’t find fault in his best friend’s statement.

He has to go back in again today and how is he supposed to face you? I should call in sick. Yet with that thought he still works the coffee machine, his body moving rotely and his friend sidles next to him to help him with lunch. He could still sense the excitement radiating from the puppy-like man. An avocado toast later, Mingi is sent out with a cheery, “Have fun!” The little kidney beans are back in his ears, a mellow summer song soothes his pounding heart. The moon peeks between buildings as if to tell him it’s rooting for him. In such an aspect, he thanked the pile of regolith and dead volcanoes hanging in space.

His takes longer strides to the campus ground, arriving earlier than expected, his body understands the excited energy simmering under his skin. To see you standing in front of the Arts building entrance sparks something in him. Don’t do or say anything weird, Mingi. He breaks into a jog, calling your name properly this time. It’s an exaggeration but this is what he thinks being struck by a space debris must feel like. The shy wave of your hand and the sunlight blanketing your skin are enough to set his heart racing. “You look different today.” He supposed he does look different to you. Your encounters with him are always within the confinement of Hongjoong’s studio. You never see him in his casual state, so the messy, half wet hair from the shower earlier, the all sweats get-up he is in and the glasses perched on the bridge of his nose are foreign to you. Hell, you never see him cooing at a soft toy or notice how slow he eats. “Have you eaten yet?” That’s good, Min, that’s a safe question. You nod with a smile, pocketing away your phone, “Just enough to get through the meeting.” Mingi wants to curl up on the floor, what is he going to do with your undivided attention on him?

“Shall we grab something together afterwards?” He curls his hands into fist within the pockets of his sweatpants. What the hell did he just ask you? He needs that space debris to smite him out of existence right now. The endearing shy smile on curving your cheeks upwards has him biting his tongue. Mingi thinks a space debris really has vaporised him, your answer leaving him a stuttering blushing mess. “It’s a date then.”

“The universe is under no obligation to make sense to you.”

#kpopscape #foratiny #atinyforatiny #s.mg #song mingi #mingi #ateez mingi #ateez #mingi scenarios #mingi imagines #mingi drabbles #mingi blurbs #ateez fics #ateez au #ateez college au #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez drabbles #ateez blurbs #hereisleo

[jungkookiebus]

Stargazing | kth

Genre: fluff x nonidol!au x established relationship x professor!taehyung Pairing: astrophysicist!taehyung x reader Rating: E for everyone! Word Count: 1.8k Summary: High up in the mountains, in a small village, there lives two young lovers; one is an astrophysicist, the other a dutiful plant mom and writer. On a special night, with a special supermoon, Taehyung, wants to picnic and watch it travel across the sky. With fireflies lighting the waves of grass, you settle among its drifting blades as Taehyung shares his passion of space and the wonder it holds.  Author’s note: This is a sensory drabble with a little more dialogue, but I don’t think it takes away from the comfort it’s supposed to portray. Plus, I fucking love space. 

“I’ll take you there one day.”

Taehyung’s slim finger partially covered your view of the moon for a moment. Tonight, there was a supermoon and he was adamant on taking you out for a night picnic. With a basket slung under his arm (you may have teased him a little for it) and his other arm intertwined with yours, he led you up the path shortly before moonrise. Your small village was nestled in the mountains, away from the busy life of the city the both of you had been used to up until a year ago. The both of you decided your lives weren’t fulfilled enough, sold most of your belongings, and moved to the mountains and you hadn’t looked back since. Fireflies danced among the trees and the ferns that grew beneath them. The sound of soft dirt beneath your feet sounded softly in the night, as if you walked on air. A cool breeze blew through the trees and it almost sounded as if waves were crashing on a shore. The night was filled with the sounds of crickets, cicadas, predatory night birds, and the winds coming down from the mountains. Sticks snapped beneath your feet every now and again. The clearing was one you visited often. The tall grass swayed gently in the breeze and the moon cresting over the trees cast it in a muted blue that made it seem like waves at dawn.

Now, the both of you were laid on the blanket on your backs, watching as the moon traveled slowly across the sky. The sky was dotted with thousands of stars that only highlighted the moon even more.

“To the moon?”

“Mhmm.”

You looked at him out of the corner of your eye. His hands rested on his stomach and you looked at his profile. From here, you could see the reflection of the stars in his eyes and you wished you could look at them head on without blocking the view. But for now, you were satisfied with seeing them as if standing at the edge of a clear pool. His eyes shone in the night. He never liked his brown eyes, but you thought they were the brightest eyes you had ever seen. Even his eyelashes cast shadows on his cheeks as he slowly blinked. His soft, dark hair haloed his head and soft curls fell across his forehead. You looked back towards the sky. The moon was almost too bright to look at for very long, but you were fascinated by the amount of detail you could see. Craters stood out in stark contrast from the white ashy surface, streaks of darker gray the only other proof that something had hit it.

“That’d be nice.”

He hummed as the wind pick up again. You laid in the middle of the field, blanket tamping down the grass where you sat, but the rest still stood tall around you as if you laid in an enchanted pool. It dipped down low, tickling at your legs so you scooted a little closer to Taehyung. He instinctively moved his arm so that you could tuck under, head resting on his shoulder. Fireflies were continuing to come out by the hundreds, dancing among the grass and the trees further beyond the field. An owl flew overhead once and a bat or two would skitter across your vision jauntily.

“What constellations are out tonight?”

In all honesty, you just wanted to hear him talk. You weren’t sure what it was. Maybe his voice was at just the right decibel. You were positive his voice could be taken and made into a binaural beat that would put the listener to sleep instantly or relax their tired soul. Whatever ailed you, his voice soothed the ache.

“Well, I see Capricorn and Aquarius. Oh, and Pavo is right over the trees…”

He trailed off, knowing he tended to get carried away. After all, the other reason you had moved here was for the observatory. Taehyung was a professor of astrophysics and when he decided to move, still made a living doing research for the university and published regularly.

“Tell me more about stars,” you said almost dreamily. You really did just want to watch the sky while he talked.

And talk he did. As you gazed out into the starry night you tried to imagine what he was describing. He was always so good at turning space into a story that you weren’t surprised he was the most popular professor at University. You tried to imagine that you had vision that could see beyond this earth and into the heavens above as he spoke. You traveled through various clouds of dust as his voice rumbled beneath you, guiding you through the galaxy. Then there was almost a storm, a turbulence within the cloud as the gas and dust began to collapse in on itself. You imagined the warmth on your face, contrasted sharply with the freezing temperatures of space, as the core heated. Taehyung waved his hand towards the sky as he spoke, gesturing to it in general as he continued his description.

“…protostars. It’s at the heart of these cores that someday become the star…”

You could practically see the brightness behind your eyelids as you closed your eyes, using the light of the moon to further your daydream.

“It kind of just gathers dust, but not all of it becomes a star. They could become asteroids or even planets.”

You loved his passion and it warmed you against the cold around you. You held onto him a little tighter as the temperature dropped. The moon was beginning to dip behind you, almost directly overhead now. The soft skin of his jaw was pressed to your forehead and when he talked it moved gently against your skin. The crickets were still just as loud, and the fireflies were having a dance all their own in the moonlight; they were the bioluminescence to this grassy ocean. An owl hooted behind you, nestled amongst the dark branches of the trees at the edge of the clearing.

“And when they die, they leave so many beautiful things behind.”

You let your fingers brush gently along his sweater as you nestled a little closer, sighing deeply as he continued to speak in his soft baritone.

“Their death are sad fates, but it’s amazing how long they get to live. They can be one of the oldest things in the universe, having lived for billions of years and we’re just here in the blink of an eye.”

He was always fascinated with life and life outside of himself. His fascination with the stars had started in an early age and traveled with him for the rest of his life. He reached for the old Tecsun hand crank radio he always kept by his side “just in case”. Taehyung without the radio wasn’t Taehyung. He had set it perfectly, just by memory, to the perfect station at peak clarity. Miles away, and up in the mountains a little higher than you were now sat a large radio tower with a small, white building at its base. On this night it was playing Ella Fitzgerald and The Andrews Sisters. The music floated softly on the air and the fireflies seemed to sway in time to the lilting beat.

“In a supernova the core collapses and explodes. These insane nuclear reactions happen, and the core literally creates iron, ____, now the star has taken all the nuclear energy it can and the star can no longer support its own mass and the iron core collapses.”

Taehyung is animated now, body shifting a little beneath you, but not enough to make you uncomfortable. You still fit comfortably under his arm and his warm hand never left the outside of your elbow. He was using his other hand to explain what he was saying, even though you weren’t looking. Every now and again, you’d open your eyes to see what shadows the moon was casting on his face now. Now that it was dropping behind you, his soft cheekbones were highlighted, and they cast shadows down his cheeks. The dip beneath his bottom lip was dark as night. His eyes, however, still reflected the stars. From this angle, you could watch both as his eyes searched the stars with rapt fascination. He seemed to always be looking for something different, something new. They moved from side to side and sometimes more upwards, exposing only the whites and they shined brilliantly, making you think of his dying stars and how you were made of them.

“In seconds, and imagine this please,” he didn’t need to ask you twice, you were too enraptured in his voice to ignore the words, “the core goes from roughly 5,000 miles across to just about a dozen.”

You inhaled in fascination at the fact. You truly were surprised because Taehyung seemed to always have something new for you to learn, even after all these years.

“It’s almost like one of those strange time travel objects villains always seem to get in superhero movies. Things backfire and then suddenly everything is collapsing in on itself and the whole world is out of control. It’s kinda like that. The outer layers collapse, along with the core. They rebound with the release of energy and literally explode outwards. The amount of energy they release is beyond imagination.”

He spread all his fingers across the sky, palm to the stars he talked so lovingly about. The stars still shined by the hundreds, some brighter than others, and some you had to squint to see. His hand moved like a strange black creature moving across the sky, but you watched his graceful fingers move, pointing out things he was talking about and what it would look like there.

“From days to weeks, a supernova can outshine a galaxy. The subatomic particles are the array of colors you see, but they occur once every hundred years. About 25 or so are discovered a year in other galaxies, but they can’t be seen without a telescope.”

Glenn Miller’s ‘Moonlight Cocktail’ played quietly next to him on the blanket, making the moment that much more surreal. You wanted to create a bubble around this moment and stay in it, or revisit whenever you wanted. His hand, gentle on your arm and, despite your sweater, made your heart flutter a little every time he tightened his grip after being relaxed for a while. In turn, your grip on his sweater would tighten the slightest. He sighed now, resting in his explanation, as his hand settled on your hand. He held your fingers gently under his and his warmth was welcome.

“Thank you for doing this with me,” he whispered.

“I could do this forever.” You sighed contentedly; eyes closed as you listened to the music.

“I want that with you. Two lovers side by side together, two stars in the sky, dying out brilliantly in the end. Stargazing.”

And with the whisper of a kiss to your forehead, curls spilling across your skin, the two of you connected like twin stars, did just that.

Stargazed.

#bangtanarmynet #ficswithluv #btswriterscollective #taehyung #taehyung fluff #astrophysicist!taehyung #taehyung x reader #bts fluff #space #stars #reader insert #stargazing

[researchercoffee]

hey coffee, if you could have one wish, what would it be?

Just a day to be normal. no powers. no seeing impossible shit. no disconnect. no managing of idle thoughts that could outright destroy everything without me conciously doing so. No seeing my entire, endless life at once while also going through it all. not know about what I am beyond myself. to be able to talk to someone and not feel like I'm going to accidentally break anything.

I wanna talk to my freinds face-to-face, but without knowing what the conversation will be, without feeling like I'm being squished into an impossibly small space just to interact with people.

To know what's around me is real, not a construct, not made by me, not changed by me.

To be able to play catch with my kid in the park, and not have all the stares. to be able to look more like a normal girl (im keeping that dammit) than something out of a body horror exibit. To be able to pat my pets, but not have them be connected to me by the waist. To have a heartbeat that I have to keep pumping myself at all times, so my body actually feels almost alive.

I want to walk to the fucking Starbucks down the street, order a fucking coffee with a side pastry, pay for it, have it delivered, eat and drink like a normal person, and LEAVE.

I want to remember things naturally. Be able to forget.

I want to be able to touch something, and be able to interact with it without treating it like the most fragile thing in the fucking universe. I wanna be able to hug someone, and be able to enjoy it. To not feel fucking everything happening everywhere all at once. To accidentally get a papercut on my finger, and be able to worry about it instead of worrying about the saftey of your coworkers because your fucking blood is made of pure fucking infohazards. To not have to feel the weight of literally all of existance pressing on me, making me see everything, making me experiance it all, but not being able to do jack shit about most of it, because doing so would be so much worse. To be able to fucking EXIST without feeling like I am putting everyone in danger, that no powerful entity will try to find me and end up destroying everything I hold dear.

I want to be able to see someone without instantly seeing every single subatomic particle they're made of, memorizing it, and mentally copying the entire person into memory as a knee jerk reaction, because you're afraid you'll forget them too hard in your concious mind and have them be erased from existence.

To be able to go up to the person I have a fucking crush on, tell them I fucking love them, and actually get to Be with them.

I want to be able to go to my weird fucking job, see my short amazing gremlin bosses, sit at my spot I use in the break room instead of my office, and realize I forgot the paperwork in the office, and have to go back to grab it physically, before coming back. To be able to do some fucking paperwork myself, at my own real pace. To sip my coffee, savor the taste of it, and then get up to wash my cup and make another pot of coffee. I want to be able to drive back home to a house that I own due to the Foundation, chanve into casual clothes, and watch some fucking TV, and not know ANYTHING about it. To be able to actually feel sad and cry when I think the dog is in danger and wont make it. To have to clean up my mess of a face due to how hard I cried. To be able to order a pizza, and eat it, and nothing else. Not the box. not the bag. not soda bottle. I just want to eat a few slices of pizza a bite at a fucking time, and save the rest for leftovers because I'm too full to finish more then half of it.

To be able to actually taste my coffee in the morning.

I just. Want to feel real again. Just for a day. That's all.

#ooc: ive been wanting to explore this for a while #ooc: but now im sad #ooc: I mean #ooc: what is the wish of a man who has gained everything? #ooc: to go back #ooc: and have nothing at all

[feminaexlux]

A Needed Miracle - Chapter 18: But never complete

I'd been working on this one for months... because I did like 70% in 1-2 sittings and then fell off the face of the planet and I'm now just getting back into the groove.

Hope this is at least interesting to some people >_>

Read on AO3

⁂

(Nine years ago)

As soon as he said the wish Adrien knew he'd fucked up big time. He'd been dissolved, turning into the space in-between his component atoms, the trillions of tiny subatomic particles and… concepts that had initially, through sheer luck, linked up into some kind of personhood and made a pattern of Adrien Agreste.

He'd seen the Null forms of Tikki and Plagg. He knew the presence of the Invader. It was the best name they had at the time. And from there he saw how much he had cost this particular universe in terms of the energy and time it'd take to sink into his wish.

He'd asked for a "redo". A complete and total rewrite of reality because some 15 year old rich white boy with superpowers couldn't handle that his family and his friends had been murdered all around him. Well, in the grand scheme of things maybe it was a little short-sighted. Hawkmoth had been defeated at the cost of a bunch of teenagers playing superhero while there had been this thing looming in the outskirts.

Then he saw that Tikki and Plagg had cheated.

⁂

When he came to, he realized he'd been back in his bed. He blinked a couple of times and scanned his room, making sure that it was actually his room and… he wasn't dead? He wasn't dead. He was… still Adrien by the looks of it, his room being his room and all. He looked down at his hands, suddenly panicking that he'd lost Plagg. He didn't have the ring, holy crap! He turned over and went onto his knees, throwing the sheets and pillows off of his bed in a desperate search for his kwami. "Plagg!?" He yelled out. "Plagg, please let me know you're here!" Adrien cried, half sobbing.

If Plagg wasn't here… maybe Marinette had him?

Adrien ran out of his room and burst out into the main hallway. Apparently it was around the twilight hours, no one had been up and Nathalie (… and his father what the fuck they were both such huge assholes) wasn't around. He managed to throw open the front doors and ran out into the courtyard. Not even the gate could stop him as he vaulted through one of the holes in the giant decorative ironwork head first.

Marinette was only a block and a half away. His Lady had always been so close and he'd been an idiot for not even seeing her right in front of his stupid face. But he could fix it! He could fix it now, thank God. No… Thanks to Tikki and Plagg and--

A silver car screeched to a stop in front of him before he could run across the street to Marinette's house. A car door flew open and his Mother emerged, looking panicked in her white silk sleeping robe. "Adrien! What are you doing?!"

"Mom?!"

She ran to him and wrapped him up tight in her arms. "Adrien how could you leave like that? What were you doing?! You foolish, foolish child! Do you know what time it is?!"

Adrien had been a little… more than a little shocked and overwhelmed with a mix of joy and confusion at seeing his mother in person again. His wish made her come back! But… "Mom, I need to find--"

"You're coming home right now," Emilie said, dragging Adrien back into the car despite his protestations. "Simon, please take us home." Adrien heard a familiar grunt and the car was put into reverse, taking Adrien further away from his… Destiny? No. He'd changed all that. Emilie turned and forced Adrien to look at her by gripping his shoulders and turning him. "What the hell were you doing Adrien?! You know your father will be furious!"

Rage boiled over in Adrien. "I HATE HIM!" Adrien screamed. It all spilled out in the relative privacy of the car, how Adrien had found a Miraculous and became Chat Noir, how he had been fighting Hawkmoth with Ladybug, how Hawkmoth was Gabriel and Nathalie had become Mayura and they had become some disgusting couple thing but that Adrien had supported their relationship unknowingly because Emilie had been dead for a year and--

"That is quite the nightmare, Adrien," his father's cold voice interrupted, coming from over the car intercom. "Come inside. You've caused enough trouble for tonight."

Adrien had arrived at home. They didn't believe him. Of course they wouldn't. There was one way he could prove all that he was saying… that book was still in the safe, wasn't it? He ran out of the car to his father's office and slid away the Klimt-"inspired" painting of his mother. He punched in a few codes but they were all rejected.

"Adrien!" His father's voice boomed at him. Adrien ignored him for the time being, trying in vain to remember anything that might have been important to Gabriel. Adrien remembered how Gabriel had… died loving no one but himself, and punched in a sequence. The safe popped open and revealed…

Nothing? Where did that fucker hide everything? Adrien ran at his father and pulled off that stupid candy-striped cravat, shocking everyone in view. No Miraculous?

Wait… his wish really did reset everything. He stood still in place, staring back at his father. Oh shit, Adrien thought.

⁂

(Now)

It took at most 10 minutes of Adrien and Plagg waiting in Tatsue until Marinette and Luka came down from the apartment and walked toward the car, hand in hand. Longg had already come back sulking, apparently prematurely dismissed by both Marinette and Luka. Adrien got out of the car and opened the passenger door for the pair, but Luka stopped before entering. "Where are we going?" He asked.

Adrien smiled. "A safehouse."

Luka narrowed his eyes at Adrien. "Why?"

"Chances are you've been targeted on purpose, I'll explain more in the car," Adrien said, patting the roof of Tatsue.

"Wait… My sister and--" Luka paled. "I can't--"

"Oh don't worry, Kagami already took them to the safehouse earlier. We tried to take you both as well but Plagg and Tikki said it'd be alright if they watched over you until you both woke up. Can't really argue with them if they already made their minds up," Adrien shrugged.

"Why do you want to help us?" Marinette asked, squeezing Luka's hand tighter.

Adrien put his elbow against the car and rested his chin on his braced hand. "You're looking at the man who forced Universe number 2 into existence," he sighed. "I remember everything from the first one and I need to tell you why we're all here. I can't give you a bigger hook than that, can I?"

That'd been essentially what Longg (and Tikki) had explained to them, but Marinette still reeled back in shock. "This is… this is so crazy," she said shakily, feeling her hand squeezed back by Luka. "I still… I'm still having issues processing all this."

Adrien nodded. "Yeah. Crazy doesn't begin to describe it. Look, even if you still don't trust me you have Tikki and Plagg back and can absolutely obliterate and smear me into a thin paste if you wanted. I have nothing to hide and nothing to hold back. I just need you two to give me some time to explain what I can and show you what I know."

Luka sighed to himself, saying "I don't know where--" when Plagg phased out from Tatsue. "Nevermind."

Tikki flew next to Plagg, both kwami looking back at their holders. "Adrien's right. We need to be somewhere safer," Tikki said gently. "We trust Adrien to tell you the truth."

⁂

The ride to the safehouse was relatively short but plenty awkward and quiet. Marinette had looked back and forth between Luka and Adrien, but one was staring blankly out the window in a dark, pensive mood, still gently squeezing her hand as reassurance of his presence, while the other was staring at them, thoughtful and smiling whenever Marinette looked back at him but adding no additional comment.

Adrien, Tikki, and Plagg had initially given them a quick rundown of what they had experienced in the previous universe. That while Marinette had been Ladybug before as she was now, Adrien had been Plagg's original bearer. Both Marinette and Adrien had been much younger, starting their superhero lives at 13 years old and had years of practice using their Miraculous before the reset. The original Hawkmoth was Gabriel Agreste, but that had all been undone by Adrien's wish because they failed to defeat Gabriel in the end with Marinette dying.

Adrien had no clue who this Hawkmoth was.

Marinette understood most of it, but she'd noticed that Luka just… wasn't here with her mentally. If Marinette could guess what was going through Luka's head, she guessed it must have been worry over Juleka. She was half right.

Luka had been feeling an odd sense of… detachment since Adrien called. Yes, he was currently the Black Cat Miraculous chosen, but… he'd been a placeholder. He wasn't… the original. He wasn't even truly intended to be the one wearing this ring in Universe 2 and Plagg didn't seem to care much for Luka.

But if he hadn't had the ring and he hadn't been partners with Marinette, would they have ever gotten together? Would she have even noticed him?

It did feel like the past decade and change had been him swimming through mud trying to find his place in the world outside of his family. Didn't have a father, lost his mother, had to sell their houseboat, had his sister block any contact from him for the better part of a year, his love life and attempts at rock-stardom were disasters. He finally had things starting to go his way when Marinette literally fell into his life.

And then they each got a Miraculous. It was the first time Luka had felt alive and somewhat in control.

Hearing now that he was just some random asshole swept up in this whole thing was a little bit of a blow to that perspective. Maybe he needed to hand this ring over to Adrien, who supposedly knew how to handle it.

Maybe then Marinette would have a partner that wouldn't be such a fucking liability.

⁂

They ended up being driven to some fancy Japanese dojo and as Luka had been staring out the window most of the ride he saw a formidable looking man with a huge nose ring look over the car. There'd been a split second where that man had locked eyes with Luka, staring him down with a vague but palpable threat of violence in the air.

But whatever that man saw, he deemed Luka (and Marinette, probably?) safe enough and the car drove itself further in, going down a few levels in an underground lot. The car was parked and the doors automatically opened. Adrien moved out first, beckoning Marinette and Luka to follow him.

Having been lead into one trap today, Marinette had been hesitant in falling into another one, but… at least she and Luka had Tikki and Plagg. So she'd use that. She transformed in a pink flash after she noticed no one else was around and there hadn't been any cameras.

"That's… smart of you, actually," Adrien mused out loud, chuckling. "I get it." Both Adrien and Ladybug looked at Luka expectantly, but he… he just sighed.

"We wouldn't be here if I hadn't gotten caught, right?" Luka said. "I'm putting myself, my sister, Rose and Marinette in danger by being this… by being Panthera. This Miraculous shit isn't working out for me, is it?"

"Luka?" Ladybug asked quietly. "What…"

"Kid, don't--" Plagg was cut off when Luka took off his ring.

Ladybug panicked. "Luka!"

Luka opened his palm with the Black Cat Miraculous ring to Adrien. "This was always yours, wasn't it?"

Adrien looked down at the ring. A few moments passed, each one stretching out longer than the previous. There was a real sense of longing in Adrien's eyes and he reached out his hand toward Luka's… and took the ring. It shrank down a little bit and morphed into a signet ring with a flat silver face, blockier than the simple wide silver band it had been for Luka. "You just handed me one half of a universe ending machine, you know that?" Adrien said disbelievingly. "I'm not sure if you're serious. I didn't think either of you would want that back in my hands."

Luka shook his head. "It's always been yours."

"It's a nice thought. You're a better man than I am," Adrien chuckled. "But it's not mine." Adrien tossed the ring back at Luka, who nearly fumbled in catching it. "Not this time."

"You… won't take it?" Luka seemed confused.

"Like I said, it's a nice thought. But I can't use it."

"Can't?" Ladybug asked.

"Can't," Adrien confirmed. "One of those little stipulations in the fine print of resetting the universe. I can't ever use a Miraculous ever again."

#fxl fic #a needed miracle #lukanette endgame #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #luka couffaine #lukanette #endgame lukanette

[luwupercal]

ok here’s the last song i wanted to rec but decided to rec separately for both (1) topic concerns and (2) just being an entirely different genre and only related ‘cause i think this is a really Lucius song for the first 2/3rds of its runtime

ive linked this song before i think or at least ive tried but the title makes it a problem because it references self harm (although it’s not, really about self harm, it’s just the title). and with that said i will slap a readmore and talk about it below to anyone who is cool with that. 

also the lyrics reference sexual stuff

it’s called I Cut Myself, by Talkshow Boy! it goes on like, a weird food tangent at the end (i mean it’s a great food tangent i love it. it’s just not lucius lol)

i cannot explain the lucius energy on like. 6:20 am brain but here’s a bit from the song:

“...I wore a suit, suit, suit It did not suit my style I wore my brand new belt Now I know how Ian Curtis felt 

Oh my little pretty one I touch myself, I touch myself And everywhere I look I always find myself aside myself I think I'm all together But I tear myself apart Because I cut myself I cut myself, I cut myself, I cut myself 

Shaving 

You fuck yourself way too hard You wouldn't be cool if it weren't for the lessons that you learned in Belgium In the white room, you shoot me dead I'm in the air, the subatomic particles in my bathroom and in my bed With Hustler magazine I read it for the articles 

Oh my little pretty one, I touch myself, I touch myself And everywhere I look I always find myself aside myself I think I'm all together But I tear myself apart Because I cut myself I cut myself, I cut myself, I cut myself...”

i HOPE you see my vision. anyway

#self harm mention cw #self harm cw #music shill

[kyahcomic]

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This illustration goes with my diary. It’s about the first time I remember staring at the sky by myself and feeling utterly alone. I began to think about my grandfather telling me about how all life is made of subatomic particles; positive, negative and neutral energy that must be recycled, never created nor destroyed. I am stardust, I am earth. the wheel goes counterclockwise because I wish I could be a child As a child I felt connected to nature, my home, my friends and my neighborhood. I could make friends at 6 but as I grew older, life got complicated. I lived through abuse at 7 and 8 when my mom dated a man who moved us far away from all family isolating us on a farm. I moved every year, transferring schools over 10 times. I started to feel less able to connect with people. I had to mask my personality and my behavior so people wouldn’t antagonize me or put down my interests. I felt so alone so frequently. My mom was on meth a lot as a child or just never paying attention to us, my dad was in jail or prison or in the streets, so I was raised by my grandparents a lot. Growing up not understanding subtext in social interactions and having to trust that people were being nice, especially when so few people were, was so fucking hard. My mom didn’t even like me, she literally said those exact words to me “I don’t like you”. The not knowing-what’s-wrong-with-me-that-made-her-hate-me makes me feel insecure. The bullying growing up made me a bit insecure too. I felt like people were mean to me because I’m ugly. Or annoying. I made few friends growing up that I stayed close with but the ones that still love me are the kindest people I’ve met. Love you Sarah and Maya. I’ve started to reconnect with my mother. She’s changed a lot and she’s been clean. I’m proud of her. I’m going to have my brother come over after we get vaccinated for Covid. My brother silus is 10, he got covid and he struggled to breath. I wouldn’t want him to get it again. Can you even get it twice? Idk 3:58 PM 1/17

.- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ . . ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : –.- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ . . ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : –

#nonbinary #artists on tumblr #nonbinary artist #transgender #trans comics #stimming #stipple #stippleart #diary #personal #tiktok #video

[macneiceisms]

Through Tangled Glass! Sounds very intriguing! Please tell us more =)

I answered a bit about it here! I had so many time travel ideas after reading your fic that I had to jot something down, but being me it has to be unnecessarily angsty. 

Here are a few more excerpts from Through Tangled Glass:

Excerpt 3:

Garak prods the translator twice. The pain sears in a blinding jolt down his neck and shoulders. The UT clicks in his head while blood pours into his uniform. Educational mode on. Click. All translation off.

“There,” Garak says in Kardasi. “Let’s see how you fare.”

“This is a waste of time,” Julian insists. He can control a lot of his physiology, he trusts Garak to find a way to circumvent it. He can’t outplay Garak at his own game, he knows it. But maybe he can play long enough to stay alive.

“You don’t have to make a big show, Dr. Faraj,” says Garak. “It bores me.”

“Look, if you want to question me, turn the translator back on and question me. I won’t give you any useful information.”

Garak smiles again. He cuts off the cuff of Julian’s sleeve. The fabric rends and rips and Julian can feel Garak’s perverse pleasure at destroying the offending garment. Ta’kak indeed. He dips the rag into the glass of clear liquid. He presses it to the cut under his ear. Julian gasps, biting down a cry through clamped teeth. The alcohol burns. Garak presses hard. Hard enough to staunch the blood in about thirty seconds. Hard enough to send sharp stabs of pain through his neck. The alcohol stings sharper than any knife.  

“Ten more seconds,” Julian gasps, struggling for air through the searing pain. He screws his eyes shut, white phosphenes lighting up behind his eyelids. “After you stop the bleeding it needs ten more seconds to disinfect. Bloody...fucking...shit, you know how to cause pain.”

To Julian’s surprise, Garak does as recommended. Frowning, he pulls the blood-soaked cloth away from the wound. He dips it into the alcohol again, and pats the soaked cloth gently around his neck, a cool and gentle whisper amongst the pain. Clear liquid runs red. Agonizing cruelty and agonizing gentleness all in the same man.

“Really a shame. A neck is a terrible thing to ruin. I hope your gadgets smooth it over.”

“I know it’s just for show, but it’s nice to pretend like you aren’t going to just kill me at the end of this,” Julian mumbles.

“Of course I don’t want to kill you. Such a lovely, exotic creature,” says Garak, by all appearances politely bored. Absolute bastard. He cleans the blood from Julian’s neck. His fingers ghost over Julian’s collarbone. The earthy, spiced scent of him fills his lungs.  “Are all your males like this? Narrow-waisted with such lovely necks? Such elegant limbs?”

And then he realizes where this is going. All those scandalous touches, all that brazen flirtation. Garak isn’t going to pry the answer out of him with a knife, he’s going to drive Julian into the most embarrassing confession of his life. Julian schools his heart rate and blood pressure lower, focusing on the firing of his sinoatrial node, the dilation and constriction of blood vessels. Resisting the constriction. If he has to think about urological anatomy to play this game, god, so be it.

Slowly, carefully, Garak cleans the bloody knife. He squares the spare chair in front of Julian, and with his clean glass of liquor in hand, sits.

“You really are lovely, aren’t you? You even smell lovely. Like salt. Do you taste like it too?” Garak says, and takes another sip of alcohol.

Julian watches Garak’s lips press to the glass, his mouth part, his tongue dart after to savor the liquid left on his lips. Something clenches low in his abdomen. In fifteen years Garak wouldn’t dare to be so forward, but then again, his Garak lives on a cold space station, in exile, at the mercy of a Federation captain. Here, in this dark little room, this Garak controls everything.

He’s going to kill Sloan for sending him in this compromised. What’s Julian supposed to do? Say, ‘hey, I know you’re torturing me but I know you fifteen years into the future and you give me chocolates and I bore witness to your father’s death and I faced him to save your life from that implant that’s in your post-central gyrus and we argue about Shelley and Riaz and Shakespeare and Preloc and I think about you stopping me in the middle of a rant about Meditations of a Crimson Shadow to rip my trousers off and shag me senseless.’

That would probably get him proper murdered. But oh, what a way to go.

Excerpt 4: 

“You ought to have killed me quickly,” Julian says, chest heaving. “Because I intend to endure until you’re ashamed of what you’ve done.”

Something flashes in those terrible blue eyes.

“Confess,” says Garak.

It’s not a request, it’s not a question. It’s an answer, offered to Julian like a soft and precious gift. So simple. The solution to all his problems. Garak, his deliverer. Garak, promising freedom. And the truth shall set you free. Pain swims and shudders through him. The too-tight handcuff, the cracked cheekbone, the deep, dull ache of the sedative, the summation of a million wrong choices slamming into him at once.

“To what, my dear tailor?” Julian says, his voice cracking. “I can confess to any number of things. I confess I prefer Le Carré to Fleming. I confess I lied when I said Shoggoth was dull and convoluted, I actually deeply enjoy enigma tales. I confess flubbing the last question on my final exam. I confess I let Palis touch me even after I knew how she felt about monsters…abominations...like me, just to save my skin. I confess I could have carried that generator. I confess...I confess that no matter how much I say I hate my father I would still do just about anything for a scrap, a crumb, a subatomic particle of affection, of approval, of love. I’d give anything for him to just be proud of his son and not the...the,” he sobs. He’s losing his tenuous control, a weight dragging out of him, blackened and reeking of something old and dead and festered. “And not the thing he architected.”

#garashir #damnhardwork #my writing #wip ask game

[deviationdivine]

Deviant Heat • Connor x Reader

DBH After Dark Series

8.2k words

tw: language, smut • rated m/explicit

a/n: 1st full dbh after dark one-shot for 300 followers celebration. This milestone is past but finally have something for it. Thank you loves. Also this includes a nod to an original aesthetic idea used exclusively in a discord server rp involving a murder case detailing the Detroit Ripper. This original story line might creep into other fics down the road. Are you ready for some sin?

“Everything is secure.”

Officer Miller gave the android the all clear despite their sporadic correspondence throughout the day. Let’s say he heard some things while holding down the fort. After their officers left harbor docks, Chris was saddled with evidence compiling. He and a few of the others had to deal without the major detectives especially the RK800.

“Nothing on the inside as you know. Looks like our killer just left that unpleasant surprise on the door.”

Connor’s brows knit together. Surprise is inadequate to describe having evidence smeared on his door. This killer came too close. Imagining you home without him sends a ripple of stress through his tall frame. He holds composure stiffly. His shoulders are tense, eyes fixing on open door. Cleaned by forensics he understands you wished to handle the process in the lab but he already handed it off to someone else. This is far different.

“Has there been any more reported correspondence from them?” he tilts his head as he ponders aloud.

The last message he personally received pointed to him not able to protect for long. A taunt made to illicit a specific reaction. Nothing will prevent him keeping you safe.

Connor’s posture is wound, defensive while in wait. Resembling that of a rearing lion, only the ruffle of a mane shows his inner protective instincts. Churning inside, a blip of fire clouding LED and the android will circle in a predatory thrall. The need outweighs any other parameters as he constructs his own. He will stay up tonight, forego stasis and make sure nothing gets through. As long as you sleep soundly, hopefully you will not worry then.

“Nothing new,” the officer responds with a shrug. “Been quiet since –”

Miller scratches under his cap awkwardly. “Hey, Connor. How’s the lieutenant? I mean really?” He heard about the accident. Spread pretty quickly through department but it’s Gavin who decided to shout it from the rafters. Was anything else to be expected? Reed has a big mouth.

“Hank is doing as well as can be expected.” Explaining the lieutenant’s condition, Connor cannot help but feel responsible. If only he had been there. This murderer will not get away with this. Injuring his partner is only one small step towards the RK800’s true defensive nature.

Deviant or not he still carries those instincts pitting him against his foes with the utmost proficiency.  He will forever remain a skilled killer with combat prowess. There is no turning back the tide on what he is. He was made this way. However, he is also very much alive. Even as he debates this internally, realizing that he wishes to tear this killer apart piece by piece. Connor’s attention is elsewhere, distracted. This is no good for him. He needs to focus.

Life is different for him following the revolution. Deviancy is a blessing but can also be a curse. Emotions are an intricate web. Each one threads as a silky string stronger than it appears. Tendrils glittering, holding weight of emotional surges as dangerous as a tight rope act.

Still this sensation sparkles anew, fresh with those revitalized days since fracturing barriers. His wall is no longer keeping him at bay. Lost in a sea of free will, thought and drive pushes him beyond intricacies of code. It pushes him to you.

He inhales, nodding his head to Chris Miller as he wraps up with the few remaining DPD personnel. They have been coming and going through this high rise all day. Luckily they live on the bottom floor.

Connor finally enters. Shutting and locking door, the android presses palm against security scanner. Skin melts away revealing white plastic, his eyes blinking in succession with panel connection; he primes it for added protection, gaze softening at you near window.

Seemingly staring at nothing in particular through pane, everything is tense around your figure and it pulls him away. Moving up behind, sliding his bare fingers in a glide against your neck, his head drops down breathing beside ear.

“Y/N.”

Smooth white digits, his husky voice make you shiver into him. Already sweeping arms over waist, he tugs close to hold you safely and full of this burning need. He always wanted you but most importantly he needs you. Tonight you need him it is abundantly clear.

“Everything will be all right.” Whispering close allows lips to brush warm skin.

Data analysis screams out your anxieties and his arms tighten, snug, a warning to that fucking killer; Connor’s jaw tightens, falling into his deviant emotions, ruthless edge of negotiator presents itself at full light. His can be a blind side as he turns to those machine instincts. They will complete his mission.

He vows as certain as emotional ignition sparking his system anew. A way to fix, prevent these grisly murders gripping Detroit. Anyway he can and stopping this Ripper will end this.

“Please, calm down,” he advises, processes data compiling. “Your stress is far too high.”

It riddles him too but he masters a determined expression, a brave face. As the humans are prone to say and Connor kisses your jaw, massaging long fingers down against hips. A huff of breath lurches up his throat in a cradled pull of synthetic heart.

Sensors are high in his artificial epidermis, digging deep below its pale tissue. Even unto the wholly plastic frame hidden beneath he is a living being. Sentience is more than what is built in him. Adaptable to environment as he and transmutes solely of machine, biocomponents to particles of his humanity. Subatomic in system, unknown to naked eye but inside he feels them grow. As true, alive he grows since revolution’s end.

“Nothing can hurt us together, love.” Oaths are still new to him. Even as he understands, learns to accept this deviancy. “I will never let anything happen. I love you. And no murderer will change that. I will tear them apart before I let them hurt you.”

Shelter. It is the best way to describe how Connor's arms feel encircling, protective and full of unparalleled affection. Amounts are light at times. A gentle breeze cresting through windowpane and he is that natural airy scent that comes with it.

Others are electrified turning him into that whirlwind that swept his way through DPD. Little did you realize when he first came but then – How naïve is that when first seeing him you felt a thud in your chest? Just his cute little bobs of head while contemplating, brows furrowing, and the proverbial puppy dog look. You knew now how spontaneous it was for him. He never truly knew how well that expression would make someone cave. Honestly, you recall a little incident with him and Hank during one of their early cases. Connor needed more time. There came the puppy dog look of doom. He obviously knows now. There is so much more humanity in him.

You shiver oh so pliable to him. Clay to mold and your body does transform upon each touch. Feeling his unique warmth, innate husk and lips move in a promise against flush skin. Sounds are sweet and real as real as these vows spoken between you. Vows never once expected in your life but with him - oh with him this is beauty. He is beauty, in physicality and soul, in a dark world. Yes a soul because they are mated, entwined in one cradle.

Soul mates, he told you early on he admired the concept. Now he says he breathes it. Your Connor is alive. To hell with anyone who still thinks otherwise. It never mattered that he was an android. Never in your heart and it never will. You just want this to be forever. In Connor's arms eternity blooms colorfully fragrant in his petals caressing even with a murderer stalking the city.

Biting bottom lip at his fingers running in a slippery caress, you inhale sharply. Nestling your back to his firm chest, his body cages around and locks you away from this. It only could.

“Connor.” A quick breath, cherishing his gentleness despite his other violent skill sets, you pull away. Enough to twist around and face him now, eyes train up onto his: a sea of chocolate, steamy coated in luscious caramel. His eyes are burnish hues, loving but also hardened in worry. He wants to kill this Ripper. That you understand. Just from a look both soft in his love but also smoldering. He is forever made to kill.

Connor was originally meant to be Cyberlife’s killing machine and becoming deviant didn’t erase what he’s capable. Instead he became a hero. He freed his people; he-he became a friend, lover.

You swallow now thinking of the Ripper’s agenda. Android-human couples and those two women they were both married to their respective android partners. One of the androids she was murdered too. How easily could this person do that if they too did not have an advantage? Could they be dealing with an android that kills?

Shaking your head you are unable to hide these thoughts twisting in the mind. How can you hide from an advanced boy like him? He reads it easy. He scans always making sure that you’re OK. But when do you get to make sure he is too? Just like when you first met. When he was still trapped?

“How can everything be all right, Connor?” Huffing at him, clear about how messed up this is, you cross arms over chest. “When that fucking maniac came here! They were here, Connor! And we didn’t even know it! What if they’ve been here before? How many other times and we didn’t know?”

Before he even attempts to reach out you move away from the window. Picking up a few digital magazines left sitting on coffee table distracts. You should just clean up some anyway. Not that there’s much to clean. Connor’s pretty pristine that way. Besides the fact he’s an android but it’s not exactly known that he’s messy.

Occasionally clothes will be strewn in extra piles. That’s when you can’t wait. The urge to claw at each other, rip off accessories and… another huff, more intimate as this begins to burn, setting those data pads in a bookcase. A mix of new tech and old physical books nestle together. You study spines of those paper copies seemingly so ancient compared to new technology. Funny how quickly items become so obsolete in a short period of time. Nothing in this can be antiquated. Never these in a moment of pure terror but subtly you sink, twist to look at him.

He cocks his head, lips drooping as his mouth does that crooked thing you love. This time it doesn’t do anything to paint a smile to your face.

“I haven’t been this scared since…” A heavy almost sad breath tinges verbal thought. “When I thought I lost you, Con.” Softer than a feather it falls. Briskly you feel it run down deep to your core. Those memories paint a profound image. Who needs perfect memory when it is one strand in a timeline full of pieces? They all connect. Everything is always connected.

“Jericho. On the news. When they raided, that explosion,” trailing slightly, it is a strong case. Admitting it is too easy because it was the only truth you knew. “I thought you were gone there.”

Shaking your head it’s something discussed before. All of it, everything because opening up was another part of him adapting to his emotions. You never felt so full, so whole until he came into your life. This fear brought it all back. “But that wasn’t anything compared to Cyberlife Tower or-or that fucking program. Trying to take control of you, to hurt you again!”

Tears glisten, cascade in a torrent of ache moved beyond. Surviving all of that to potentially lose what you fought to keep to some maniac – hurts. Watching innocents terrorized, lives taken for who they wish to be with stabs you just as deeply. It is personal because you are like them. You are with him and you squeeze eyes shut. Naturally your body leans into his when he is there.

Quicker than anything he’s always here. As you were for him, reminding each time that he is so worth it. He only ever deserved to be free and happy. Connor is everything in a vast expanse of the world. Your world is much more colorful since him.

“Con.” Breath staggers at his touch. Thumbs rub affectionately against your cheeks. Displacing unwanted, angry tears you shiver at the colder digits of white. The skin of his right hand remains deactivated but feels so right, good against human skin.

Tilting your face into the smooth palm, you slide fingers atop his large hand. Kissing at his thumb, pushing his fingers close for your mouth, a tiny moan creeps up throat as you begin sucking on his index. Swirling tongue between his fingers, leaving a glistening sheen of saliva on smooth plastic, your body presses into his. 

Leaving wet trails over the stark beauty beneath his synthetic palette, you grind hips knowing how it feels without. All over his body, you’ve experienced raw desire as himself. He was worried the first time because he didn’t think it would be comfortable.

Oh but was he wrong. With skin, without skin, he fucks you to the moon and back.

“Connor,” a whisper, pleads for him as he holds you tightly by hips. “I want you. I need this. I need you, Con.” 

Kissing up at his jaw sets his body tense. Moaning that nickname now, you fall into his strong grab. Sliding arms up over his broad shoulders after he slides off and drops jacket to floor, your legs find a way to wrap around his waist. A sharp exhalation slithers past lips when he hoists you up with ease.

Tangling fingers in his hair, lips fuse together as you give into his prodding tongue. Allowing him entry, tasting his otherworldly tang it is intoxicating. His tongue slides, caresses wet and hot metallic. Filling your mouth up with quick darts, sensual flicks, you feel it bubbling. A sweet burn in your stomach is a confessional. To every part of him you demand to be against every part of you.

Connor forces you against the wall. The push is smooth but direct in where he wants you. Still attached to him, legs clench as it hits in a wave. You whimper at the hot pulse. Already needy in a shiver his muscled body rubs up against your softer flesh. 

Digging into the nape of his neck, you drag another hand to savor him. Beneath white buttoned shirt his toned body is a godsend. All it does is warble senses. The haze is thick just as thick as him grinding, straining to free himself. You just fucking want him out of those clothes.

“Connor, yes.”

You encourage his move to remove your shirt, gasping into his mouth at the rip he tears at the fabric. Sucking in a breath you lift arms to get the article off. His mouth is there. Kissing atop exposed skin Connor buries his face into the crook of your neck, his large hands brace against wall. Purposely he keeps you upright with the feral, hungry press of his body. Instantly your head drops back, lips parting to suck in breath at his grinding. 

“Please, fuck me, Con.”

Connor’s groan is a sharp answer. Building up from deep in his chest it unleashes this carnal side. A scalding fire broils in his stomach. He feels every part of you in his deviant skin, shell and all matter in between. Thriving on pleas, digging his wires deep into bones of your vessel, he lifts his head. Hair is a mess. Rebel strand flops greedily for your fingers. Twisting and tugging at his strands, he engulfs lips with his. Muffling pants drawn up his throat and sighs slipping out from you, Connor deepens the kiss.

The android slides tongue slowly mimicking the passionate tango of lovers. Data blinds him momentarily. Tasting what makes up your DNA, sweetened and ethereal; he gasps equally ravenous, hips pressing hard into your groin.

“Love,” he whispers, cupping face to force those lively eyes of yours onto him. The way they light up in a covetous spark.

Warm brown darkens to devour every last piece in return. Begging him to take you in this mess of emotions, stress and anxiety, Connor cannot deny. He never has denied you anything not since he first walked through those DPD doors.

 As much as he strives to hold together, not allow these murders to cripple his levels, he needs this. He needs you. Connor aims to show each time why he became deviant. While he mastered through the first stages of it there are still times of overwhelming battles. You become too upset. He never wants to be the reason you shed tears. Even for his life in danger.

No. You will be happy. He vowed to make it so because you have made him feel this blossom of emotion. That is all he could ask to be accepted despite what he truly is.

Seizing you in a burning gaze, Connor haphazardly unbuttons shirt and rouges shoulders to get the constricting clothing off. A new pile begins. He reaches for your thighs. Squeezing them in a maneuver to unwrap them from his waist, he catches you to steady balance when feet return to the floor.

Tugging buckle loose, Connor pushes jeans down and indelicately kicks shoes from feet. Matching frantic actions to shed every last stitch, he helps in this task as he unbuttons yours, pushing them down past hips and undressing in a complete flux. He follows your exposed form now with hands, skin stitching back over fingers.

“No,” an immediate protest quivers through separated lips. “I want to feel your fingers without.”

Connor swallows. Arousal grows tight. Processing needs, analyzing to satisfy, he will give whatever you want. An act of love bonds you further into each other’s worlds. Existences twine, nurture and build together. He makes love to someone so humanely warm, so alive that the RK800 forgets for a moment that he is a machine. With you he is no longer sent by Cyberlife. Past and won in their favor, Connor always looks to the future with you in his arms. 

The moment he first kissed you surrounded by new fallen snow, crisp winter air the android found his meaning in humanity. With his friend, soul mate, love of life he is a man. Somehow even he can believe that.

Lifting his hand, twisting fingers to draw your eyes, Connor deactivates his skin up elbow. He leans in close. Gliding and gripping with the plastic of his fingers grants him natural, raw possession of you. 

Hoisting you back up to him, bodies plastered together intimately, Connor carries you through apartment. Squeezing eyes shut under the soft moist touch of your lips, he backs blindly into couch. Jolting a bit, his arms tighten their hold.

You simply gasp. Expelling sweet breath into his mouth makes him lightheaded in circuits.

Connor thrusts you against the corridor wall, pinning, writhing together with your form glued to him, limbs wound to tie him to your softer body. He groans in appreciate of how you feel. “I am about to wreck you.”

Growling, tapping into his negotiator side, the one that still drives him in work, the RK800 aggressively bites into your neck. Scraping, licking over teeth marks and Connor sucks at the tender flesh. Nibbling at that sweet spot sends a rush down to his groin. His cock pushes against boxers aching. He aches to be inside of you. No longer can he wait and from those stuttered gasps neither can you.

The bedroom door bursts open in frantic movement. A tangling kiss crashes hard as your bodies drop. Bed creaks beneath the sudden drop of weight; Connor falls sideways to prevent his heavy frame crushing. That would not be romantic in the slightest nor pleasurable.

Pushing you up and back down atop soft coverlet, white and black patterns of trees stitch in quilt. A bright aesthetic decorates this room. Tall sheer curtains cover windows in an off white flutter. Equally soft is the sheer hanging twisted at each point of four poster bed.

Already you’re a mess atop pillows, chest heaving from his ministrations. He relieves tensions, paying attention to the quiver of skin beneath his lips. Kissing along the length of your neck provides him with a moment of calculation. 

Spontaneity is still something he is working on. What can be more spontaneous than fucking you during a serial murderer case? Possibly not the best thing to analyze while preparing to, as he has heard from some colorful people, fuck you senseless.

A torturous glide brings hand down, sticking his bare white fingers into his mouth. He narrows eyes onto you while sucking. Letting you watch while getting rid of his boxers in one shift he moans around his slick digits. A shudder of relief unmakes his sturdy frame as he springs forth. His cock twitches at the sight of you arching upon the bed, licking and biting your lips. 

Resting palms atop each knee separates them. Immediately he lurches forward to give a lick between thighs. Data streams in a nibble on inner thigh, biting hot skin but your jerk of hips stops under his strong hand.

Connor smirks. Knowing your body all too well it’s the quiver in anticipation for him instead of a human man that does things to him. You chose him as much as he chose you. No, he was blessed with this, with you and these sensations.

Leaning atop your supine figure shifts his hair across forehead. A messy chocolate oh how you want to eat him like a Hershey Kiss. Better yet rich Swiss chocolate creamy and smooth as his pale skin shimmers in freckle highlights. His torso is like a bust chiseled out of marble. Artistic and delicious are the adjectives of love. Tonight he is all those things. All of this dies in a fog of lust when his hand thrusts between your thighs.

He rubs, swirls and strokes, eating your moans. He builds a bridge with the rise of your body. The bone of your human structure strengthens to his craftsmanship. As quick as he erects this empire he burns it down in your honor.

Teasing further along, Connor stops to lick the plastic digits clean. He moans at the taste. Hovering above your awaiting, burning body, lithe and muscled, he dips his head to suckle warm skin.

 A symphony of gasps moans, scratching of nails into synthetic skin eggs him on. How he craves your marks. Littering him until healing wipes them away but Connor loves them as much as he loves giving them returning the favor. When he sheds all of his skin and you press kisses all over the white shell of his body; Connor gasps, gripping himself in hand as the fantasy manifesting in his processors produce a leak of precum.

Dots of light blue stain the bed between you. He kneels in front, positioning to slide his cock in sweet friction. Hips grind atop yours searing, pulsating drawing your arousal to its peak. A soft whine is already out of your mouth. Verbally begging him now the impatience is beginning to kill you. Connor readjusts. Sliding the thick head in a tease, he watches your lips separate, parting to release a string of sharp breaths, eyes on his. He runs his tongue along his bottom lip lowering eyes and you follow.

You watch, rubbing against his length with fingers formed in a V, biting lip; haze of sex floods his sensors. Natural perception overtakes every impulse in his hovering frame becoming an archway above your quivering foundation. Witnessing the hungry look on your face but it’s your eyes becoming heady; lids droop in a canopy of need as that beautiful cock snaps to action. He thrusts forward.

“F-fuck.” Connor curses, gripping onto your thighs and holding legs up, yanking you down to fit himself all the way. He cannot go any further, cock twitching in the squeeze of you hugging him in a loving embrace. 

“Y/N...” His head hangs back, pale neck stretched as far as it is functionally able. He remains that way a minute allowing time to adjust but your needy whines bring the android back to life. His current mission is set: fuck you until you cum the way you deserve. The android does just that.

Moving hips, pulling back to slide back out, Connor pivots waist for the next thrust. Rearing up with a deep growl ripping from up his torso, he pulls your legs up to prop them against broad shoulders, snapping hips hard. The gasps slipping up your throat make him shiver in a pleasant glitch. His LED is scarlet, wet gush of flesh sinking, swirling together filling audio processors. And Connor finds himself no longer part of his body. Connected with you, digging nails to hips, scratching and claiming the RK800 transcends being a machine. As he fucks to the rhythmic tune of his and your moans, he is alive in your universe.

“Connor!” Whipping head back to pillows, twisting covers in fingers, your eyes squeeze shut lost in the building ache. Fluttering in the pit of your stomach it grows, spreading fire through extremities. Each thrust fills, bottoming out in his luscious raw power. You are so full of him. God. Please.

Craving how good, thick and beautiful this man’s cock is sends you somewhere else. Yes, a man. He is yours, your sweet, romantic Connor. Balancing out his cool, killer instinct paints him as a complex being. There are two parts two him. Different sides of a coin and tonight he shows his humanity. A single look from those gentle brown eyes makes you feel like you can travel the universe. He ignites as a supernova. For him you burn as a glittering star and he swallows vast, endless in his love. With each snap pushing his hips flush you fall at his mercy pushing to claw up at him. You need to touch him.

“C-Con…”  Oh how sweet that nickname. How fluid it breezes past your lips glistening as tongue swipes across your bottom. Muscles scream out in tiredness, legs going completely lax propped up against his shoulders. The position strains muscles but it’s a sign of raw lovemaking.

Nights can be soft, sweet but others-others are like this. An oncoming storm battering your fragile shelter and Connor is that gale that first blew into the DPD. He is everything made to be perfect, efficient but in your eyes? He wasn’t a mere construct. You fell in love with him for who he truly is. He deserves all that love. After being shunned by society, hurt by some evil master program; you’re happy to see him accepted. Watching him get actual praise for doing his job? No longer seen as a tool but an active member of the DPD? 

It’s a pleasant flutter in your stomach. Connor is one person who deserves everything. Yes, he is person, he is so alive.

Moaning his name, rolling your head lazily atop pillows, you huff as he allows your legs to shift off from his broad shoulders. Falling down against you, chest squished under his, breath stutters at the friction of synthetic skin rubbing against your hot flesh. It’s a sensitive but delicious sensation. Trapped beneath his muscled frame, pale skin a starry painting and each freckle you longs to kiss. Of course you already have.

Exploring him that first time was just as good. It was more than sexual. Every emotion pours from him when he connects with you in the most intimate ways. This is all still new for him but being deviant opens up avenues he originally denied. 

Of course you realize this but each day makes him just a bit more human. What better way than showing, sharing as you consume every part of him as he’s done to every inch of your body. You both know each other like no one else. This never changes. You always come undone, surrendering for him.

The deep glide of his cock forces your back to arch. Planted between thighs now, legs full of needles from his slamming strokes, he rears his body above now, feral and growling. Those inhuman sounds are enough to make you shudder. 

Fuck. That husky snarl!

Immediately you grab onto him. Raising knees up beside his hips, you squeeze them against his body. Nails scratch into his chest as he pushes up now. Blue trails etch under clawing passion. The same motion along his exposed white arm simply scrapes without leaving marks on stark plastic but he shivers all the same. He perceives underneath the epidermis with every sensor going off in his body.

“Connor,” a whimper, eyes hazy, walls clenching down as he fills you all the way again. “I want to see more…of you.” Sharply those breaths invade the room. 

Silhouettes tango in rhythmic shadow, the android arching his back as he fucks you the way he knows you prefer. No one could ever make you howl with such need. No one could fulfill, morph you to complete putty in their hands like Connor.

Everything transforms in his possession. Nothing compares and you know this with each fiber of being.

“Oh, Con…”

Taut, sinewy his muscles ripple in synthetic harmony, body sliding against yours. Blue floods veins pumping consistently at the friction between you both. Connor groans sharply. His eyes lock down onto yours glittering in a wave of sin. An ocean he drowns in but ultimately skims along calm seas.

A gasp spills deliciously up throat. Trembling beneath his frenetic energy is an urgency to have him connect on a deeper level as it paints stars in your eyes. Long fingers interlock through yours. They curl over to clasp atop knuckles his large hand engulfing your own. Pushing your arm down holds it there but still your free fingers trail up against Connor’s back. Following the curve of his spine, digging nails this time, you rake scratching glowing blue in a pattern to his lower back. Finding purchase upon his ass gives a squeeze. Toned perfection that he is drives wild desire.

Encouraging his hard thrusts, sticky flesh melding, sinking his cock, so snug, completely stretching out it draws tears corners of eyes. You bite down trying to stifle the obscene sounds lurching up throat. Yet it’s too late. Each moan every gasp grows louder, catching in your throat and keening in luscious waves. 

How does a body become a tidal pool? A sensual stream of water shifts in a ripple beneath him. How deep does he dive? Enough to submerge into your abyss he sinks to the deepest trench. Dark and hidden it is more when you are together.

Your voice becomes a filthy soundtrack to his husky groans. Listening to him lose control, peeking up through half lidded eyes, it’s the sight of his handsome face twisted in love and lust that builds you to completion. Seeing your Connor shed his collected demeanor and become that fearsome negotiator, unleashing the strength he knows he holds but never would he hurt you.

Even when you want him to just rail you without consequence, craving that internal bruising that leaves you wrecked for days. Connor makes sure there isn’t any lasting damage. You can have hard, rough sex or just slow loving. The options are endless. This is endless.

You want him every which way. He wants you the same. Each time with the RK800 is like the first and he, this beautiful boy you love more than the whole universe always will shatter your resolve. You’ll always want this.

He shares this with you. Never questioning emotions because they are his now. With you he can be himself. Disabling skin, smooth layer disappearing stitch by stitch leaves stark white entwined you’re your human digits. The warmth of you is still tenfold. Even more Connor feels whenever showing his true self. He will only ever show this to you, he only ever has.

The android moans into your lips. Soft and boyish and everything you crave. He gives it willingly. Just as he as craves and needs you, Connor devours those sharp breaths. His lithe frame shudders, grinding hips against yours and it begins driving you crazy how slow he’s going now.

Desire swells up his torso. Fingers produce a soft glow against yours in another bind of this union. It’s hue is beautiful. He is so beautiful: with or without his skin it doesn’t matter. Connor is Connor. He’s the only thing that makes you happy. Why deny that? Why deny something so real even if others view him as not?

Huffing desperately snaps hips up into his to make him move faster. A cry falls so sweet impaling yourself up onto his cock. His is animalistic. Yet, he still gives you his gentle loving side. 

Caressing your cheeks with his thumbs, swiping off those tears of desire, you smile, listless. His return smile makes your heart pound. Even as he fucks you senseless he cocks his head, rebel strand of hair flopping cute and innocent like his expression. Soon it twists again, hungry as he drives himself deep.

“Please,” you beg, cupping his face in your hands. “I’m so close.”

Sensing it already, it doesn’t take you revelation. He knows your body more than you know it yourself. Moaning into his lips as he kisses you deeply, sensual stroke of tongue invading mouth, your kiss is wet, passionate. Your whole body trembles. Feeling his cool thumb rubbing down between the snap of his hips; without skin it’s slippery, sliding and circling in time with the plunge of his cock hitting all of those glorious spots. 

You squeeze legs around his waist, wrapping them, threading ankles together to clench tightly. Arms wind around him to hold on as your body shivers, thighs rippling despite their lock. Beside your head Connor growls viciously, a sharp rip right next to ear.

The fabric fall loosely against your neck tickling but you ignore what your android lover did to your bedding. Instead you fall, in a quaking mess; neck stretched back with head dropping back, crying out his name in that glorious snap that floods vision. Everything becomes a low roar washing away all feeling. Momentarily blinded, eyes shut in your release; the knot finally dissipates as everything floods. 

You gasp at the warm gush. Hot, full and creamy, Connor follows through soon after and he pushes to the hilt a final time keeping himself snug.

The sensation of his cum soaking, spilling every last drop he dribbles out between legs. Always you want him to finish sheathed inside. Needing his cum desperately, leaking out in a beautiful hue of light blue; your lips are moist as you kiss, his cock pulling out slowly.

Heaving in sharp breaths, fingers still attached to his white arms, you watch his head dip down to watch the spill of his artificial seed leak out. A genuine fascination he always gets, eyes alight in that boyish curiosity. He looks so cute it’s melting you on the spot. A big contrast to how dominant he was railing you against your bed.

You stretch fingers up to his chiseled cheekbone and his eyes snap up from studying the delectable mess he made in and around your inner thighs. This time he leans forward into your lips and your arms snake around his neck kissing him just as soft.

A quiet moan gives away Connor's true feelings even after becoming liquid above you body. His inorganic frame melts against yours. Balancing himself with palms flattened to mattress, he squeezes eyes shut to savor the sweetness of your mouth. He groans rougher the deeper it crests mingling with his orgasm. 

Coming down from the shiver of human physicality leaves the android spent of energy. He can easily make love to you multiple times over but he reads the exhaustion. You are content holding on and caressing him both synthetic and his bare plastic.

Focusing on his skin activates the cells in a wind. Covering his arms once again, he cups your face with his fingers just as they return to their human state. He leans to nibble on your bottom lip. Tugging the plump flesh with teeth ends in a smirk. Sharp breaths and thudding heart sends him a beautiful analysis. You are stunning. “I told you I would wreck you, Love.”

Connor's barely there smile is teasing. A natural aesthetic makes his smooth face livelier if only for a brief moment. He leans his cheek into the warmth of you. As you reach up to stroke, trace his cheekbones your heart races. An equal smile if not in its full flavor but loving and gentle from his love thrums deep in chest. His synthetic heart, the thirium pump that regulates his tempo chugs in sync.

“I love you,” he whispers husky beside ear. “No one will hurt you. I won’t let them.” Connor's tone is firm in his determination.

Taking you now to show, to share what keeps him grounded in this life he chose; he needed this as much as you did. A reminder to what you both overcame and no fucking murderer will touch you.

Sensing worry return as you hold onto him, he trails fingers down your side. Rubbing soothing circles against thigh, Connor shifts. This time he straightens up in a seat edge of the bed. His eyes narrow on the shredded pillow. During his loss of control he tore the fabric sheath. He cocks head back to you. His hand folds atop yours where it rubs up his forearm.

He teases next, “I will draw a hot bath for you to soak in. If you so require.”

Caressing flush skin with his thumb he means to keep you occupied from everything. The glow of his LED shifting from calm blue to processing amber shows where his mind is. Deviancy grants him everything he will never want taken from him. It also compromises the android exactly what this Ripper is hoping. Their killer knows more about androids than they realize.

 SEVERAL HOURS LATER

protect while you can droid...

 A flutter blooms, flashing from internal messaging system. Forcing Connor’s eyes to pop open out of a short bout of stasis draws his head up from pillow. His jaw tightens.

Receiving the unexpected transmission leaves a bad taste. If he could readily taste beyond data analysis; his arm shifts from around your waist. Your body nestles beneath coverings in a spooning embrace from his protective caution. Now he breaks out of low power mode with another taunt from their killer.

The android gauges your current status. Breathing softly, finally asleep after a long bath, he soothed whatever worries you had left. They are not completely gone. His stress spikes now. It is enough to protect. He fought to protect during the revolution. Even when he was still machine each thread of instability attached itself to you. You were courageous. Anyone who wishes to risk well being for something not alive is brave beyond a doubt. He is alive. He has you and Hank to thank for that.

Connor untangles from you. Sitting upright, narrowing eyes on open door, his defensive protocols activate. He leaves the bed, quickly striding out of the room.

Lights illuminate the central space of expansive apartment. His steps are bare, determined to check entrance. Calculations suggest their killer will not make another appearance. After the hospital but – can he be sure? 

Listening to percentages is not always the correct answer. If he had listened while chasing the deviant on the roof, Hank may have fallen to his death.

Deactivating security lock, Connor sidesteps through door. Corridor lights illuminate his pale skin, exposed in a state of half undress. Even then he would tear this fucking Ripper apart.

Everything in his system screams out in stress. As the senior deviant detective he is better acquainted with emotions. Threats against those he loves cripple the android’s composure. He already lost his temper at Reed. This investigation must be completed. Before more lose their lives –

Connor reenters, securing your home. He knows that you would like to live in a house. It has been a dream of yours. Ever since opening his eyes he has shared this. His gaze shifts across living room. Falling on curtains covering glass, he inhales unnecessary but inspects quickly. 

Tugging them open, scanning, all he sees is an empty night. The wall is glass pane, an aesthetic you found pleasing allowing natural light inside. All the android can see it as is a weak point.

His head cocks to the side, audio processes picking up click of door. He drops the curtains in place and frowns. “You should be sleeping.” Connor’s eyes snap onto your bare legs, trailing up to the buttoned shirt you hastily put on after bath. One of the android’s shirts - obviously.

Funny that he'd say that. You'll sleep when you’re dead. The idea squirms in stomach. Bad choice of words lately. All of this is just...

Forgetting for a while being completely entwined with him made you feel safe. He only ever made it that way even when he was struggling. It makes you somewhat happy to have this much peace. Can't have too much apparently. Look at these murders, everything falling apart and…

“Well, I woke up cold.” You tease him. Putting on a smile is equal to having a brave face. Slinking over to Connor, you slide a palm flat against his bare chest. Leaning up on toes to meet him closer as he dips his head down, you brush lips sweetly into his. A pair of strong hands clutch at your waist. You huff pleased with his touch and tap tip of a finger against his chin.

“I was waiting for a certain android to turn up his system heat.”

Smiling up at him, a sigh escapes, swallowing after shifting back from him. Pretty obvious what he's up to. Doesn't take a rocket scientist. Being with him might've been blissful but waking up alone like you did, half asleep, you thought something – happened.

Never mind what you thought. He's here. One thing you’ve known ever since they met is he'll always be here. “Con, I know what you're doing.” You slip back and sit down.

Curling up on couch, you idly run a hand against the creamy upholstery. “Don't think you can hide it from me. Think I've had a good grasp of your quirks since the first time I saw you at the DPD. And do you want to know what I thought? That you were the cutest thing. For a badass detective.”

Connor cocks his head with a smirk. “Am I not still 'cute' for you, Love?” Joining your bundled perch it is easy to read. You are deflecting. He understands why. Hiding his actions has become less successful. He only does so to protect, alleviate whatever worries there are. You went through just as much because of this relationship. Falling in love with someone like him but he fell in love equally. There is no one else he will ever want to hold, cherish in his arms. The message from the Ripper only pushes this parameter in his protocol.

Missions are his to own in deviancy. His mission is to serve and protect. Most importantly he will do everything in his power to shield the one he has come to love.

The android swirls his thumb atop exposed skin. Dragging fingertips along your leg, you stretch out, sliding limb to hang over his knee. It draws you in a close cocoon with him. Comforts of home are shattered after the vandal. He knows you are afraid.

“You know what has happened as well as I do. As much as I want to shield you from this I also know how strong you are. You made me see. When my people were hunted down, captured and-and I will fight for you now.” Connor leans close, fingers sliding down your neck, pressing forehead lightly against yours. 

He inhales the scent of you in a sense of feeling. “You caught me, Y/N. I was checking the apartment. My stress levels have been higher.”

Never can he lie. You have opened up so much to each other. You are soul mates in ways that even he could not initially comprehend. Connor bathes in your words, christening him a beautiful soul and the RK800 believes you. He believes in this because it makes him alive with every artificial breath, every synthetic beat of his heart. Nothing will take away what you have built, continue to build together.

“And I have done something I shouldn't have.” Connor confesses his stress. It is strange for him still to admit all of these emotional surges but he owns them. “I lost my temper with Reed. While I should be the one keeping everyone calm, focused. I lost my focus. All of this discourse in the DPD will only make it easier for this murderer.”

Swirling a fingertip along the circumference of his indicator is a sign of acceptance. Oftentimes you brush lips to his temple. Kissing the very android part of him shown outwardly to the world; you slide fingers through his rich coffee strands. 

Massaging his scalp, pecking little kisses all over his face, caressing each mark of beauty he was constructed with. Freckles paint his entire body and make him so uniquely handsome.

“Connor, please don't worry so much about me. If it means raising your stress... You know it scares me when you mention that.” A light laugh breezes past lips despite the confession. Is this you trying to remain calm or at least distracting? It sounds ridiculous that's all. Of anyone Connor can handle anything. He's strong. Always has been but losing him now will utterly destroy. You won't be able to.

“Con,” you whisper, pressing forehead back to his. “I doubt losing your temper with that asshole is the end of the world.” No surprise to you because Gavin has that effect on people. “After what he tried to do to you? Don't you even think you did something wrong. Besides, everyone wants a shot at him at some point.” You smile. Brightly this time but – “What's happening, Connor? Why? This maniac loose in the city. Why would they do this?”

One of your friends is dead. This monster came back to finish the job! That wasn’t all. This murderer has killed androids too. The idea of Connor winding up that way hurts. Cupping his cheek against palm, you lean up, brushing lips in a sweet lock. He's the only one that would ever hold the key. 

“I can't imagine being left alone. I can't imagine anything without you.” Holding it in streams this fear. It shivers right down to the core. Even as Connor pulls you flush against his chest nestled in his strong embrace; he rests his back to couch arm. You shift atop him. Resting in a tangle, cheek pressed beneath his chin and you plant a kiss onto his synthetic skin. 

Nibbling up along the pale column of your lover’s throat, sliding body atop his firm muscled frame props you up to reach his lips. A sigh slips out at his cinched arm hugging tightly.

“I love you, Connor.” Your breath hitches. “I just want to wake up from this.”

“I love you.” Softly he confesses. Just as the first time following his break into deviancy he gives you this. It is what you deserve, what you both deserve. All the love he can muster and Connor craves. He longs, needs you as he needs thirium to power his biocomponents. You are the calm in his storm. A safe harbor for him to rest his weary mechanical bones after grueling days, cases pushes his stress.

Connor is not one to complain. He has adapted easily in this free will, shedding Cyberlife, escaping Amanda via emergency exit. All of it led him back to your arms. Jericho was the moment he knew. Listening to Markus' words made him snap. Everything he said was real. Just as being alive is real and Connor holds you close.

“Shh. Be still, My Heart.” Whispering husky, comforting, he holds no answers to why. Why do murderers terrorize the innocent? In this dark time in Detroit you will never be alone. He made that oath when he first told you his true human feelings.

Twining fingers with yours now draws your ring up for his lips to touch. The gold band on his melds in harmony as fingers engulf in his large grasp. “Sleep, Y/N. You need it for tomorrow.”

Making a choice to stay here, stroking your back, he listens to your breath grow shallow. Connor's eyes shift to ceiling as you fall asleep lying atop him on couch. Guilt flutters in a scarlet blip as he keeps this killer’s message to himself.

Anything to protect and this time you do not need to hear tonight. He simply watches over you.

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#connor x reader #dbh connor x reader #rk800 x reader #dbh rk800 x reader #connor rk800 x reader #dbh after dark #after dark offerings #300 followers are since past but here we go #spicy connor is spicy

[chewwytwee]

42

There is no way that I can fit all my thoughts on you into this in a timely and composed manner, like me talking about you is always gonna be a jumble of fucking confused gay thoughts. But like oh my godddododoodogoasdfjkjalkdklfajksdf  you ajsdj you are so kind and easy to talk to its like impossible to not just speak my mind around you because I understand you won’t judge me, you’re understanding and funny. There’s something about you that just... gets me it’s crazy. Like I’ll say a thing and we’re not on the same wavelength we’re like on the same subatomic particle we are just matched to the highest degree it’s insane. I have like a billion other things I wanna say about you but they’re gonna be messy and long so I’ll cut it here because you’re amazing and you constantly make me happy and loved.

#number ask game #AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHHAHAHAAAAAAAAAA