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#no one asked for this but I’m posting it anyway
tidcl · 2 days
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mv — yuck! (part i)
pairing(s): max verstappen x photographer!reader
summary: your aesthetic interest in max verstappen is purely professional, you swear.
warnings: mild sexual references i guess
fc: daisy edgar jones
a/n: hiiii this is my first attempt at an f1 fic so i hope y’all like it!! might turn this into a series idk? feel free to send me a req or a suggestion or just a message🫶🏻 my inbox is always open (fr now i turned on asks) (also daniel is at redbull in this 🙏🏻 prayer circle w me guys 🥲🕯️) (partially inspired by yuck by charli xcx)
⭐️ next part
🏁🏎️💨
(instagram)
@ynusername just posted…
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tagged @maxverstappen1 @redbullracing
liked by @maxverstappen1, @danielricciardo and others
ynusername maxie in miami 🏎️💦 as usual thank you redbull for having me out!!! looking forward to the next one where i will once again be standing 100m away from max until he forgets i’m there and acts natural for the camera.
user1 uhhh wait why he kinda… 🥵
⤷ user1 and i don’t even fuck with cars like that
⤷ user2 no right like who even is this?
⤷ user3 @user1 @user2 His name is Max Verstappen. He’s a driver for RedBull in Formula 1!
user4 MAXIE!?? UR KIDDING!!
⤷ user5 we’re losing the idgaf war
user6 THE SECOND PIC. GOING INTO CARDIAC ARREST LITERALLY AS WE SPEAK.
redbullracing 🥵💦 (❤️ by @ynusername)
⤷ user7 she liked. are yn and max together?
⤷ user8 @user7 highkey i think shes just employed by them
⤷ user9 @user7 she’s been one of redbulls photographers since they signed max, they’re not together they’re just friends
user10 RAHHHHHH
user11 contender for white boy of the month i dare say😋
danielricciardo Fuck me
⤷ maxverstappen1 Fuck off
⤷ danielricciardo 😬
danielricciardo Yn why don’t you take slutty photos of me?!
⤷ ynusername cos ur always talking ur head off babes
⤷ ynusername max broods. easier to take pics that way.
⤷ ynusername and they’re not SLUTTY!
⤷ maxverstappen1 Exactly, Daniel.
user12 okay so why is her feed 70 percent max? isn’t she a redbull photographer? not a max verstappen photographer?
⤷ user13 its like a known issue. she clearly prefers one of them over the other🫤
(yn’s messages)
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(twitter)
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(instagram)
🔒 @ynpersonal just posted…
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liked by @ysistersuser, @maxverstappen1 and others
ynpersonal anyway 😐 me lately
user1 gorgeous gal! don’t listen to the weirdos
⤷ ynpersonal ty babe love u lots! xx
ysistersuser MWAH LOVE U BIG SISSY
⤷ ynpersonal LOVE U TOO LITTLE SISSY
⤷ ysistersuser 🙂🫵🏻 boyliker
⤷ ynpersonal 😐 so annoyed at u
⤷ ynpersonal still love u tho ig
user2 slay! 🫶🏻
⤷ ynpersonal slay!!! 🫶🏻
danielricciardo Okay so hypothetically…
⤷ ynpersonal hypothetically ur a dickhead daniel
⤷ danielricciardo Hypothetically?
⤷ maxverstappen1 Why are u fighting
⤷ ynpersonal no reason, dan is an asshole
⤷ danielricciardo 👀
user3 When are you visiting home again?? Miss u🤭🫶🏻
⤷ ynpersonal soon i promise!! ill text u!
maxverstappen1 Nice pants
⤷ ynpersonal thank u maxie 🙈 (❤️ by @danielricciardo, @maxverstappen1 & @ysistersuser)
——
📸 ahhhh okay well sound off if you want another part for this. though i think that is probably coming regardless. but yea this is my first f1 fic and my first smau in a longggg time so pls let me know what u think! i’d love love to hear❤️
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sunglassesmish · 9 hours
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okay so a very long post incoming.
the shock still hasn’t worn off. i asked misha about bi buck after days. weeks. of talking about it as a hypothetical and i got the BEST answer ever and caused extreme disarray in the destiel fandom.
people in my discord group can attest how often i was like ‘ooh i hope someone asks misha in a panel this weekend.’ ‘maybe we can all go in on a cameo and ask him that way instead?’ i was pretty annoying about it, i just. i NEEDED TO ASK.
so i got to the con thinking if only i could ask a question. then i went to misha’s solo panel but didn’t line up for some reason and then by the end, i regretted it because there was no last question and even misha commented on it. i thought damn now i only have tomorrow’s panel to do it. but i wrote down my question anyways and i thought i’m already here, i have to at least TRY.
i complained to my mother about how i really wanted to ask a question, but no way could i tell her i wanted to ask about buck and tommy kissing and destiel. she doesn’t even know destiel is a thing and she would not approve if she did. but i went to the panel by myself, luckily she didn’t have a ticket to the con anyways so she just waited in the hotel lobby after checking out (which was her choice. she listened to misha’s first panel on saturday from outside the room and didn’t want to sit through one again)
anyways so i go to the tomer/karen panel that was before his panel, and i’m on the right side right at the back, the complete opposite side where the people who ask questions are. then towards the end of that panel i move to the left side. i’m still at the back but i’m at the end of the row so i can easily move when i need to. then when the panel ends i go to ask a person who works at the con about asking a question. she says there are still people who didn’t get to ask their questions yesterday so they get priority, and the rest aren’t lining up yet. now i’m pretty confused because there was a distinct lack of questions at the end yesterday but whatever.
so i go to sit back down but there’s a line of people right where the question line was on saturday, so i join it thinking just in case she was wrong. well more people start to line up and she says ‘nobody is lining up to ask yet!!’ and i’m like okay so it’s fine, we really aren’t going yet.
then i sit back down and a few minutes later i see her directing like 4 or 5 people onto seats after she raises a paper saying ‘reserved for questions’ or something like that. so i think okay it’s my chance. i go up and she directs me into these seats that are closer to the front and is filled with like TEN people who are sitting in that ‘reserved for questions’ section. i think oh my god. there are so many people here. i text the discord saying ‘IM IN THE LINE.’
then the panel starts and i’m like okay well i’m towards the end and i’m close to the front now, i’ll take some pics. and as people ask their questions and sit in their original seats, we have to keep moving along the row of seats so we keep getting closer to the middle near the mic.
but then there’s half an hour and one of the people working for the con comes and says to the girl after me in the queue and the people behind her that they weren’t gonna get to ask. she tells the people at the front of the queue ‘i think just the first few of you will get to ask’ - at this point i’m like the 5th/6th in line (after the person at the mic and the person waiting behind them) so i’m not very optimistic at all. and then.
so i tell my discord ‘yeah i don’t think i’m gonna get to ask’ because i’m still pretty far from the end by the mic.
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and then the panel goes on and there ends up being two people, one at the mic, one standing behind them. and one of the people working for the con tells me, THE NEXT PERSON IN LINE, ‘sorry, you won’t get to ask.’ and i am DEVASTATED. i tell the discord ‘yeah i’m definitely not gonna ask.’
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i’m thinking I SERIOUSLY just wasted this whole panel shuffling seats and worrying for nothing (i had also just left my bag with all my stuff on a random seat!) so i sit there annoyed and sad for a minute until i see sean (the con organiser) by the stage and he tells her that i can go up last i guess. so she comes up to me and tells me i will be up next and to stand behind the people at the mic and i’m SHAKING.
i get in the line and i text on the discord that i’m the last question.
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then i stand there listening to the questions before me just thinking oh my god misha is right there and i’m gonna be the last question and oh my god it’s gonna be such a good question. because i saw how much chaos misha caused with his questions on saturday and in this panel i don’t think anyone asked about destiel. so i thought!!! this is gonna be good!!!
and then i get to the mic and they’re all on stage and sean is next to it and says it’s the last question so it’s gotta be a good one. and then alex and rob and misha are all like oohhh it’s the last question but then MISHA. FUCKING. comes off the stage and comes up to me holding the mic and is two feet from me and looks me in the eyes and says ‘don’t fuck it up.’ but i’m like it’s on my phone! i got it written down! and well you’ve all seen the pictures of him looking right into my eyes but i’ll show you again.
so the first two four of these next photos we were making eye contact. i remember when he came up to me i was looking at all the lines on his face thinking man he’s so pretty and he’s right in front of me what the fuck.
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but in these last two i wasn’t looking at him. he was just looking at me. which is just insane to see in retrospect.
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after this i think he went back to the stage and i was like okay this last question is for misha and he cheered i guess. i think i blacked out tbh.
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now when he got back to the stage i think this was when rob started singing the last question song because i remember thinking like damn i need to ask this question before i cry or something. misha was just standing there and looking at me - from the stage this time and i was. freaking out.
after that singing was done i said ‘this question is kinda about destiel, just to warn you in advance.’ and then apparently rob said ‘perfect last question’ and i started asking my question.
i started with saying ‘so there’s this show called 911’ and SO many people started cheering. i was immediately so much more comfortable because i could tell people would know where this was going. especially when after i carried on with: ‘it moved networks from fox to abc in it’s 7th season. and there’s a main character named buck who in the 4th episode kissed another man’ and then people started cheering AGAIN.
and anyways you all know the rest by now. i said ‘the actor who played him reported that they wanted to do something like it earlier in the show, but when they moved networks they were allowed to make it happen. if supernatural moved networks earlier on, or if it was made later on, do you think something like that could have happened with dean and cas?’
and we ALL know misha’s reply by now. ‘if the cw wasn’t so homophobic, dean and cas would have been balls deep for sure.’ i vividly remember being like OH MY GOD (in my head) and then i put my head in my hands a little and apparently. so did misha. which is to be expected i mean that was wild.
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after that he said he was gonna actually give a semi earnest answer and said some things that are shown in these tweets. i remember bits and pieces because i was trying to hold eye contact with misha but i occasionally looked down and played with the mic a little but didn’t want to seem too uninterested. i loved his answer. the thread in this tweet has the general gist of it.
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and if you wanna see the question i had written down and open on my phone, which i edited RIGHT before the panel as you can see from the timestamp (don't judge me for the second question it was just a backup) and a picture of misha looking at my phone. here it is.
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pathologicalreid · 10 hours
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don't say nothing | S.R.
gemini part two
who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: smut (18+ mdni) content warnings: softdom!spencer, "good girl" (you can tear it out of my cold dead hands), alcohol, fwb, oral fixation, consent, idiots in love, praise kink, gun violence, jealous spencer? unprotected pinv sex, word count: 3.73k a/n: posting smut twice in a row who the fuck am i?? anyways, everyone's favorite idiots in love are back. i used the song don't say nothing by del water gap to provide me with inspiration.
part one
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please say something, cause I've been growing lonesomer each day
Penelope threw her arms up in frustration as you walked through the front door of O’Keefe’s, “I was beginning to think you were ditching us.” She got up from the booth, letting you slide in so that you were next to the wall – across the table from Spencer.
Things with him were as awkward as ever. The two of you were like a rubber band getting stretched, every time the tension became too much, you snapped and ended up in bed together - or in the academy showers, but that was just the one time. Looking at him now, the rubber band felt taut.
“I took the liberty of getting you this,” Garcia announced, a broad smile on her face as she pushed the glass toward you.
Raising your eyebrows, you eyed the beverage suspiciously before taking a tentative sip. An undetermined liquor slid down your throat as you tried to hide the distaste from your expression. Penelope had a taste for sweet, sugary drinks, it was the main reason she usually ended up puking first at girls’ night.
Spencer noted the look on your face, discreetly sliding his glass of water toward you. Thank you, you mouthed to him, earning a slight smile in return. “So, where’s this friend of a friend that you’re trying to set Y/N up with?” Luke asked, standing at the open end of the table.
In your periphery, you saw the smile immediately drop off Spencer’s face. Feeling his eyes on you, you shifted on the supple leather of the booth and looked over at Penelope.
“He said he’d show up later,” she said, lifting her own glass to her lips and sipping out of the straw.
That was enough for you to know that it would never work between the two of you. You needed someone who was punctual. Someone who wouldn’t ghost you at the last moment. Huffing, you sat back in the seat, wondering how long you’d have to stay out before it was socially acceptable to go home.
You took about thirty minutes before asking your teammates to let you out of the booth under the guise of needing fresh air. Luke asked if you wanted to move out to the patio, but you waved him off before walking out the front door.
The spring air kissed your skin as you avoided pedestrians until you made it to the outer wall of the bar, leaning against the cool bricks and sighing.
“Are you alright?” Spencer asked, walking out of the bar, and approaching you.
Avoiding eye contact, you watched people’s shoes as they walked by – heels, sneakers, sandals. “I’m fine, Spence,” you answered simply as your heart begged you to meet his hazel eyes.
You closed your eyes as he reached out, gingerly placing his hand flat on your ribcage. “You had a close call last week,” he said matter-of-factly, referring to a shot you had taken to the chest while on a case last week.
Shrugging, you opened your eyes again, “I was wearing my vest, barely even hurts anymore.” Spencer had been on sabbatical at the time, but he still came to visit you during your overnight stay in the hospital. You were left with a gnarly bruise to the ribs, and Emily had benched you for two weeks.
Tired of your refusal to meet his eyes, Spencer hooked a finger beneath your chin, lifting it until you could make out the gold of his eyes. He looked through the window of the bar, checking for something before he tugged you further from the glass. You didn’t have the time to ask him what he was looking for before his lips were on yours in the alleyway.
Spencer Reid had a habit of kissing you like you were a last meal, with open, messy kisses that made your lovelorn chest ache.
“Garcia’s friend didn’t show up?” He asked, pulling away from you just enough to get the words out.
Shaking your head, you reached up a hand and threaded your fingers through his hair, “Nope.” You cocked your head to the side as the two of you fell into your familiar pattern, “I’m glad I didn’t agree to the date. Could’ve been a fatal blow to my self-esteem,” you told him while thinking of a good way to navigate your current situation.
He also had a habit of making your mind go blank when his lips were on you, and you almost lost it when he groaned against your mouth, “His loss.”
Your breath hitched when he used his knee to part your legs, placing an agonizing pressure on your sex as you resisted the urge to grind on his thigh.
“Hey, Y/N?” He murmured in your ear before pressing gentle kisses on the side of your throat.
Humming, you bit your lip, “Yeah?”
Detaching his lips from the soft skin of your neck, Spencer pulled away to look at you, “Thank you for not agreeing to the date.”
Your body slouched against the wall, “I can’t do this again,” you confessed. The words slipped out of your mouth too easily for it to be a lie, even if you never meant for them to come out.
Spencer took a step back, removing himself from you entirely, “What do you mean?” He asked, watching as you frantically smoothed down the front of your dress and caught your breath.
“Why do I keep doing this to myself?” You muttered helplessly, once again averting your eyes from the man standing in front of you. Taking a shaky breath, your heart pounded so violently in your chest that you thought it might burst.
Catching out at you, he firmly placed his hands on either side of your waist before you could walk away from him. “Baby, what are you talking about?” He asked you urgently.
There it was again, baby. It was like a key in a lock, causing everything to pour out of you. “I can’t stop thinking about you. Isn’t that funny? You’re there, haunting my every move, and none of me occupies even a fragment of your mind.”
Recognition flashed in his eyes as he processed what you were saying to him, “It’s me?” He said, hazel eyes flickering over your face.
“Of course, it’s you, Spencer,” you said exasperatedly, afraid of years of longing coming out in a random alleyway in the district. Tears pricked at your eyes as you silently pleaded for him to say something.
Bewilderment was pasted on his face as he opened his mouth to speak, shut it, and then opened it again. “The person. Your one person that you’d say yes to. I’m your one.” He clarified, trying to get a hold on the situation.
Nodding miserably, you reached up and placed your hand over your heart as if you could staunch your bleeding heart, “You’re my one, and every time we’re together, you’re thinking about someone else.” It wasn’t an accusation; you knew he had feelings for someone else. He had told you just as much at Dave and Krystall’s wedding. Two months ago. Wiping underneath your eyes, you gathered whatever was left of your dignity and walked away from the situation.
As you walked back to your car, you were vaguely aware of people staring at you. You knew that you had played just as big of a role in your own destruction as Spencer had, maybe even more. You never should’ve had sex at the wedding, but you had sought comfort in one another.
Fishing around in your purse, you pulled your keys out, only for them to be scooped from your hands. “Hey!” You shouted in frustration, gaining the attention of passersby as they wondered whether or not they needed to call 911 or stay out of a lover’s quarrel. Shooting daggers at Spencer, you refrained from stomping your foot in frustration lest you look like a petulant child. “Give me my keys, Spencer,” you insisted, holding your hand out impatiently.
“Not until you talk to me,” he responded. He was out of breath, meaning he had run to catch up with you – a feat in and of itself.
You crossed your arms in front of your chest, “There’s nothing left to talk about, Spencer.”
He took a moment to catch his breath before looking around, “There is everything to talk about. I have to talk to you.”
Weighing your options, you reached out for your car keys, which he let you take, and unlocked the car. “Get in,” you offered halfheartedly, wiping your cheeks before getting into the driver’s seat.
Silently, you started the drive, taking a right onto the next street. “This isn’t the way to your apartment,” Spencer observed anxiously.
You shook your head as you turned on your turn signal to merge onto the highway, “No, it’s the way to yours.”
Residences had been off-limits during your illicit affair, but each member of the BAU had the ability to get to each other’s homes. It was more of a safety concern than anything else. Since you’d never been to Spencer’s apartment before, you needed him to guide you through the lobby and up the stairs. To your chagrin, he did that by taking your hand in his and having you follow him.
Looking around once he unlocked the door, the first thing you noticed was that the space was so… Spencer. From the green walls to the stained-glass window to the piles of books, it all just seemed so fitting for him. “Sit,” he said with an authoritative tone as he made his way back to the kitchen, returning with two glasses of water.
“What do you want to say, Reid?” You said, leaning back in an armchair as you looked over at him, taking calculated breaths.
Disappointment filled his eyes, “Don’t call me that.” There was something in his eyes that resembled fear, but you couldn’t quite place the reason.
Narrowing your gaze, you tilted your head to the side and feigned ignorance, “Everyone calls you that.” You challenged, even though you supposed it wasn’t true.
“You don’t,” he responded simply. It was true, over the years you had never called him Reid. Dr. Reid and Spencer Reid, yes, but never just Reid. To you, he had always been Spencer or Spence. “When you do it, it feels so… impersonal. Detached.”
You blinked, not expecting him to have said that. Your relationship with Reid had always been personal. From back when you were just friends to whatever miscellany of emotions you had now. “I didn’t mean for it to be,” you admitted defeatedly, fiddling with the buttons on your cardigan. Although maybe you had intended to detach yourself from the situation by referring to him with a name that felt less personal.
In your periphery, you saw him looking dejectedly at you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to meet his eyes. “Will you please look at me?”
Swallowing thickly, you closed your eyes, “I can’t.” Your voice was no more than a whisper as you admitted the truth, one look in his eyes, and you’d break your heart even worse.
“At first, I thought it was easier for me to just say I was interested in someone else because I was under the impression that you were interested in another man,” Spencer told you candidly. “My idea was that I could keep you close to me until you felt ready to move on, and that would just have to be enough.”
Staring blankly ahead of you, you reached out to grab your water from the coffee table, taking small sips as you struggled to digest what he was saying to you.
You shut your eyes tightly at the vulnerability in the room, opening them to find Spencer knelt in front of you. “What I didn’t realize was that a fraction of you would never be enough, not for me.”
Burying your face in your hands, you avoided his eyes as the gravity of his admission weighed down your shoulders. “Spence,” you begged. He needed to stop. He was toeing the point of no return.
“I am so devastatingly in love with you,” he admitted. “I didn’t know how deeply it ran until the wedding, but I just couldn’t get myself to let you go.”
Spencer pried your hands off of your face, revealing teary eyes. You let your body slide off the chair until you knelt in front of him, knee to knee. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, you leaned forward and pressed your lips to his.
Quickly, he wrapped his arms tightly around you, pulling your body flush against his, “I love you.”
“I love you too,” you answered, surprised at how easily the words rolled off of your tongue. Taking your time, you slung one arm over his shoulder, reaching the other up so you could put your hand in his hair. You relished in his groan as you tugged lightly at the strands.
You couldn’t help the whine that passed through your lips as he pulled away from you. He got to his feet before helping you up, and once you were standing, his lips were back on yours.
Leading you to what you assumed was his bedroom, you felt your blood heat up as he pushed your cardigan off of your shoulders. As you reached up to undo the buttons on his shirt, you grinned against his lips.
Sat on the edge of his bed, you parted your knees and pulled his shirt from where it was tucked into his pants before fumbling with his belt buckle. Disconnecting your lips so that you could look at what you were doing, he took the opportunity to duck his head and take your earlobe between his teeth. As he nipped at the soft skin, goosebumps spread where you were bare, leaving you in need of more. More of him.
Once you got his belt undone, you made quick work of the button and zipper on his slacks, sliding them down over his hips and ass while his hands made their way up your dress. “Spence,” you said breathlessly, trying to push his pants further down. Understanding your plea, he stepped out of them entirely, kicking them to the side.
Spencer drew away from you just enough to tug your dress off of your body, tossing it off to the side and gently guiding you so that your back was flat against the mattress. You watched in anticipation as he pulled his t-shirt off, the movement allowing for the tip of his cock to peek over the elastic of his boxers. “You’re so pretty,” he muttered, the softness of the words taking you by surprise, “Always so pretty for me, baby.” He gently traced his finger over your bruise as a shadow of worry crossed his features, but it was gone as quickly as it showed up.
His words spurred you on to pull at his underwear, trying to take them off, but you simply didn’t have the arm span to do it on your own. “I wanna touch you,” you confessed, “Can I touch you?”
“I need to be in you,” Spencer answered, pulling his boxers off before kneeling in front of you, eyes widening when your legs fell open. Expertly, he hooked his fingers in the sides of your underwear, dragging them off in one swift motion and leaving the both of you completely bare.
Your mouth parted when his hand reached your wet heat and two fingers entered you tantalizingly slowly. “I thought- ah- no touching,” you complained. It was a halfhearted complaint because really, there was nothing to be bothered by.  
Reaching down, your hand grabbed his wrist, trying to slow his ministrations. “You’re so responsive for me,” he murmured, continuing to move his fingers in and out of you and watching in fascination as your hips bucked off of the mattress involuntarily.
“Fuck,” You said, screwing your eyes shut as that all too familiar knot started to form in your lower belly. “Spence, baby- I’ll…” A low whine escaped your throat as he withdrew his fingers from your core. “Spencer,” you said in frustration, opening your eyes to see him inspecting your slick that had been left on his fingers.
Like a rehearsed routine, he placed his hand in front of your face, prompting you to incline your head forward and wrap your lips around his index and middle finger. As you swirled your tongue around his fingers, he watched you with an undying interest. “Good girl,” he muttered, the praise causing your sensitive cunt to clench around nothing.
Taking his hand back, you looked down as he used his now free hand to line his cock up with your entrance. Laying one of your hands at the side of your head, he used his other hand to intertwine your fingers before he pushed into you. Instead of tossing your head back like you normally would, you looked up at him, watching as he hilted himself in you. “Spencer,” you whispered.
“Are you alright?” He asked, checking in with you as he placed his free hand on the other side of your head.
You nodded quickly, “It just feels different this time.” Your heart clenched at your own admission. You weren’t using each other as an escape anymore.
Spencer hummed in understanding, leaning down and pressing a tender kiss to your lips. “I love you,” he whispered, “I love you so much.”
Your breath hitched as he tentatively thrust in you like he was testing the waters. “I love you,” you responded in kind, your voice higher than usual.
The response was enough encouragement for Spencer to keep going, he tucked his face in the crook of your neck, gently biting the skin as he set the pace. Small gasps escaped your throat every time his hips met yours.
As usual, your sounds spurred him on, seemingly trying to make you as vocal as possible, he used one hand to reach up and grope your breast. While his fingers pinched at your nipple, you wrapped your legs around his torso, locking your ankles together behind him. He lifted his head, moving his lips against yours in hurried, messy kisses that only aided the knot building in your stomach.
You didn’t have the capacity to warn him before you came undone beneath him, your orgasm coming over you as you whined into his mouth. Your walls clenched around him so tightly that Spencer had a hard time keeping his pace before it became too much.
Sighing contentedly as he filled you, you ran your hands down his back as he continued working through both of your orgasms. You whimpered as he continued fucking his cum into your oversensitive hole until your head went fuzzy, “Spence.”
He stuttered to a stop, staying inside of you for just a beat under he pulled out, causing you to flinch as you were left empty. “Are you alright?” He asked, still breathing heavily – not that you were faring much better.
Nodding, you blinked rapidly as your lungs tried to catch up with the rest of you, “I’m perfect,” you answered dazedly.
Spencer smiled at you, “You are. Perfect, that is.” He sat next to you on the bed, placing a hand on your bare hip, affectionately dragging his fingers over the skin. “You need to go pee,” he said suddenly, furrowing his brows at you.
You couldn’t help it as you erupted in a fit of giggles, resulting in an adorably confused look from Spencer. “Sorry, it’s just you telling me that I need to go pee – it’s funny,” you told him, biting your lip to muffle your laugh.
“Have you not been peeing after sex?” He was clearly appalled as if the idea of you not peeing after sex was abhorrent to him.
Rolling your eyes, you propped yourself up on your elbows, “Of course, I pee after sex, Dr. Reid,” you put extra emphasis on his honorific. “And I will pee just as soon as I’m sure my legs aren’t going to give out of me when I stand up,” you explained to him, reaching out and placing a hand on his knee.
He looked at you seriously, “You know, there are some studies that say the sooner after sex you urinate the less likely you are to contract a UTI.”
“Oh my god,” you said, “Don’t say the word urinate at me while I’m naked in your bed.” You complained, clambering up and making sure you were steady before you walked to the ensuite.
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Later on, you were laying in bed next to Spencer, your head was resting on his chest while he kept you tucked into his side. You flinched as a phone started ringing, you sat up and looked around for your phone. Please don’t be a case, you silently hoped as you searched the sheets for your phone.
Once you finally grabbed it, you saw Penelope’s contact flashing across the screen. Swiping the screen, you put the phone up to your ear, hearing loud music on the other end of the call. “Hey, Penny,” you said, smiling as Spencer reached out and pulled you back into him.
You adjusted your t-shirt over your skin, having made Spencer go out to your car for your go-bag so that you could have clean clothes to sleep in. He slipped his hand under the cotton of your shirt, placing his hand flat on your bare skin. You tried to greet Penelope again when she doesn’t respond.
“Hey!” Her voice chimed in through the speaker, “Where’d you go? Jason just got here!”
Frowning, you pulled your phone away and looked at the time – just past eleven o’clock. You sighed, letting your body meld into Spencer’s, “Tell him that someday he’ll find a girl with equally as atrocious time management skills as him.”
You heard some rambling on the other side of the call, and wondered how many members of the BAU made it out this late. “Okay, but where are you?”
Humming, you peered up at Spencer who had, unsurprisingly, pulled out a book to read before bed. “I’m right where I need to be,” you told her earnestly, wondering if she could hear your voice's smile as Spencer kissed your forehead softly.
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tagged, if you asked for a part two: @donttrustlove @jumpingjackalope @bippityboppityboob1tch @makingbloodbaths1 @sammyreidslut
@evvy96 @mus3y @nnab @basicallynotbreathing @hell0kitty11
@tatilolz @radioactiveinvisible @lamentis-10 @k-corbett @discotitsposts
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alicewritez · 1 day
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A Place To Call Home - Aaron Hotchner
word count: 886
summary: you were caught in an explosion on the last case, you told Hotch and the team that you were fine to go back into the field even though you hadn’t officially been cleared. Cue a worrying Hotch.
Aaron Hotchner x Reader
authors note: mentions of guns and violence, injury to reader but nothing too life threatening, mostly fluff. sorry it’s so short but after nearly a month of not posting anything, i’m trying to get back into the flow of things. hope you enjoy anyway! 💞
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“Y/N, hey - look at me.” Hotch murmured, his hands cupping each side of your face in an attempt to get you to concentrate on him and his voice.
A few weeks ago you’d been caught in an explosion on another case. You’d told the team you were fine and that you were ready to go back out into the field, but you hadn’t been cleared to yet. As a result of the explosion, your eardrum had burst, so with every loud noise, your ear would ring.
And it hurt.
Morgan was beside you and had just shot the unsub, the gunshot being enough to cause the ringing in your ear to begin again, your hand firmly placed over your ear as you winced. Hotch was more than worried.
“Easy, Y/N..” he murmured, “come here..” he gestured for you to move closer to him, pulling off his jacket and offering it to you. You wrap the jacket around your shoulders, suddenly feeling cold as you let yourself collapse into the safety of his arms.
“Hey, hey - you’re alright..” Hotch murmured, his hands moving to your hair, softly running his fingers through it as he tried to comfort you. “Don’t worry.. I’m here..” he whispered, hoping the sound of his voice would be, at least, somewhat soothing to you. Which it was.
“If you put your head on my chest,” he murmured, his other hand moving to your chin, turning your head so that he could look you in the eyes, “I’ll tell you stories- distract you from the noise..”
You rest your head on his chest. “If you could go anywhere in the world right now, where would you go?” You ask quietly, the ringing in your ears making you wonder whether or not Hotch had heard you.
“Mmm..” he hummed as he thought, his hands moving through your hair as you placed your head on his chest, him adjusting his arms around you as you settled into his embrace, moving into something more comfortable.
“To go anywhere,” he mumbled, the hand brushing through your hair moving to brush your hair back from your eyes, “If I had the opportunity to travel..”
“I would go to..” he pauses as a playful smirk crosses his face, “your bedroom - you want to know why?”
You playfully nudge him in his side but nod nonetheless. “Why?”
“Because I want to see you in your bed,” he murmured, his voice low in a subtle whisper, “You - in one of my t-shirts, sleeping..”
“Hotch,” you warn, “Not when the team are watching..”
“Mmm,” Hotch murmured, the urge strong - but you were right. He couldn’t let the rest of the team know.. “Fine..” he sighs. Though he did continue to rest his hand where it was, and he couldn’t help making his thumb graze up against your skin, making small circles around your thigh.
“Can we go home?” You ask quietly, burying your face further into his chest, relishing in his comfort.
“You want to go home?” He asks gently, one hand resting softly against the side of your head, his other resting against your thigh again as you shifted your head further into his chest. “We could..” he murmurs softly, leaning his head back, so that he was looking down at you, he gently ran a finger along your cheek. “Or..” he spoke softly, his voice more of a whisper, “Want to go to my place?”
Your eyes are closed as you speak softly. “That’s what I mean… home.”
A smile spreads across his lips as he realises what you’re saying.. his home. “You want to come to my place?” He mumbles, his hands beginning to shift, the hand on your thigh beginning to trace soft patterns into your skin.
“Yeah.. your place is home..”
“You’re calling my place.. home?” He murmurs, his hands still trailing along your thigh. He wanted to keep you close to him; wanted to kiss you. “I didn’t you felt that way..” he reaches out a hand to adjust your hair behind your ear.
He hums, shifting his hands back back around your waist, his grip being just enough to keep you close to him, moving his hand on your waist towards your lower back, shifting again so he could rest his head against yours.
“You’re going to be coming over more often then.. if my place is your home..”
You smile softly. “You’ll never be able to get rid of me.”
“Never want to,” he murmurs, a hint of a playful smile crossing his lips as he speaks, “You’re going to be my.. constant visitor,”
“Always making yourself comfortable whenever you want,” he continued, his voice becoming lower as he spoke, “You’ll have a key.. full access to my home..”
“Good,” you nestle further into him.
“You’re going to make yourself too comfortable..” he murmurs, his voice a whisper, “Be moving in with me.. before you know it..”
“Be sleeping there every night.. showering there every day…” he murmured, the hand on your waist tightening its grip.
And he was right. Not even three months later you had officially moved into his place, your belongings slowly mixing in with his around the house. You finally had a place where you felt safe and comfortable. It was a place you could always call home.
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meechlamajor · 14 hours
Note
Ice Brady nsfw and fluff hcs pls😭🙏🏾 not enough love for my girl frl frl
ICE BRADY AS YOUR GIRLFRIEND HEADCANONS — SFW AND NSFW
Warnings: suggestions of sex, “bullying,” fluff, idfk a happy couple???? that upsets people sometimes and i don’t understand, but hey!
Author’s Note: this request made me SO happy, you don’t even know, ice is so beautiful to me and so underrated.
SFW
— Your favorite thing to do is to catch Ice off guard just to mess with her, so I feel you’d probably walk by her and flick her forehead or something stupid.
— You keep her favorite snacks on hand. I’m talking about in your car, in your backpack, in your room (you probably have a mini fridge or something), literally anywhere you can keep them because she’ll ask. And it doesn’t bother you to do this, you do it in part because you want to.
— The both of you keep hair ties on your wrists for one another. It’s the thought of being considered that matters to her.
— You guys watch “Is It Cake” together. Every couple needs their show and this one is yours. Ice threatens here and there to watch it without you if you do something she doesn’t like.
— You share a stuffed animal from Build-A-Bear and it’s 100% your child. I feel like it’d come up on a live or something. Maybe you walk in on one of KK’s very interesting livestreams and you’re like “where’s the baby?” The comments would go nuts about this alleged baby.
— I don’t think PDA would be Ice’s thing, the most I could see her doing is some hand-holding and maybe a kiss on the forehead if you get lucky. I feel like she’s just private in that way.
Imagine you’re sitting in on a practice, catching up on homework while she and the team works. You’re typing away when Ice comes over for a water break, and you bother you.
“Hi, babe,” you smile up at her.
She smiles too, her eyes forming little crescent moons. She leans over quickly and kisses your forehead. “What’s this?” Ice motions to the computer resting on your lap.
“Assignment for Dr. Smith. I’m worn out,” you reply, putting your laptop on the vacant chair next to you.
She grabs your hands, pulling you up. “Take a break and join us then.”
— Ice doesn’t give me jealous vibes either, she knows that you’re hers and she’s yours imo.
Maybe someone comments on an Instagram post or approaches you in person, I don’t think Ice would care that much. She’s not insecure and I think she might even try her hardest not to laugh.
Imagine it’s a hot summer day and you guys decided to go get shaved ice.
You and Ice approach the stand, both getting whatever you want, but you both always end up sharing anyway.
“Someone’s looking at you,” Ice sings into your ear, poking your side.
You glance over, eyeing a group of guys at a table a few paces away. One of them is particularly starstruck by your beauty.
“Ew,” you roll your eyes. “Kiss me,” you beg.
Ice shakes her head, her blonde braids moving. “I don’t really want to spoil his fun.”
— I also feel like with her, you’d never stop laughing. Ice is genuinely so fucking funny you’d have abs after spending a few hours with her.
— Of course, you get her rebounds for her 🥰.
NSFW
— I feel like toys are a no 🌚… just no.
— Praise kink 1000%
— I feel like Ice definitely has the stamina, she could go multiple times if she really wanted to.
— She’s out like a light after doing the deed, though.
— I get sub vibes, don’t ask why, I just get the feeling.
— *clears throat* exhibitionist
— I think Ice would like hickies or open-mouthed kisses for sure. Foreplay for the win 🫶🏾 I think she might not even want to cover them up, but might do it anyway just so that people don’t say anything, you know?
— I think there are definitely some fantasies and things that you both would want to try. I think she’d be open to it as long as it’s not something that’s objectively weird… iykyk.
— HAIR PULLING 🙉
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silkscream · 1 day
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our boredom's bone-deep
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ੈ✩ aki hayakawa x reader
ੈ✩ cw: smut (minors dni, ageless + blank blogs will be blocked), unprotected sex, drunk sex, angst, alcohol, smoking, hurt/comfort, depictions of blood and injury, mentions of s*icidal ideation
ੈ✩ wc: 3.8k
ੈ✩ a/n: theyre both so repressed. also sorry about the tswift reference guilty as sin is just on repeat this week
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“Yo.”
Aki turns around to see you walking towards him. You join him on the balcony, reaching over to steal his cigarette back from the breast pocket of his windbreaker. 
He looked good in civilian clothes. You didn’t see him like this often – out of his dress shirt and tie with his hair down. Dressed casually like he was a normal boy and not a hunter who signed his soul over.
“You can ask first, you know,” Aki grumbles, watching as you light up the cigarette in your mouth. 
“You were going to say yes, anyway.”
He rolls his eyes, knowing that it’s true. He’d taken you to his apartment because it was closer to the location of the mission, offering aid to the wounds you’d gotten in the face of a devil. He didn’t have to. You could still walk and you certainly weren’t dying, but he felt the need to keep you close, anyway.
You chuckle when you see the irritated look on his face.
“Don’t pout.”
The cigarette in his mouth is burned down to the nub. You take it out, grazing the cherried end against the ceramic eightball ashtray you’d gotten him for Christmas the year before. The paint was chipping from how often he used it, speckles of white against the black paint. 
You take another cig out from the pack before placing it back into his pocket, holding the stick between your fingers up to his mouth and lighting it.
“Thanks,” he mumbles.
“You’re very welcome,” you grin.
You stay like that for a few minutes. Smoking and silent, staring at the sky post-golden hour, when everything is blanketed in cobalt blue bleeding into a light orange.
“How are your cuts?”
“I’m fine,” you chuckle. “Why do you worry so much? I’ve been around longer than you have, you know.”
Aki merely shrugs. He doesn’t look at you. Holds in his emotions like a geyser begging to stay dormant. 
“I just do,” he says plainly.
“How sweet,” you scoff, flicking your cigarette off the railing. “Thought you liked me the least, to be honest.”
“What do you mean?” he asks, irritated. “You’re the one who trained me. Obviously, I don’t hate you.”
You merely chuckle, discarding your blazer. Your uniform shirt is still slightly bloodied.
“What, you think I don’t like you?” Aki asks, a brow raised.
“I’d be surprised if you liked anyone,” you shrug. “But I can tell you have a soft spot for Denji and Power, even if you refuse to admit it.”
He grunts, looking away from you as he finishes his second cigarette. The late spring breeze blows his hair into his face. He doesn’t realize how close he is to you until he adjusts his arms on the balcony, his elbow grazing yours. You don’t react, your chin tucked into your arms as you lean forward. He looks at you with curiosity.
You look at him finally and grin. 
“You look better with your hair down, you know.”
“I was thinking about cutting it,” he mumbles. 
“Don’t. It’s cute. I always thought you looked kind of like a girl. The hair is working.”
He rolls his eyes again, grimacing. He tries to hide his flush. 
“Thanks,” he deadpans. “You know how to make a guy feel special.”
“So I’ve been told.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“What do you mean?” you grin. “You think I’m scary and mean? I’m very sweet to my lovers, you know.”
He could cringe. That wasn’t what he meant. He shivers at the word “lover” like it’s taboo, knowing very well that images of you are flooding his brain against his will. Your proximity makes it worse, how even despite both of you getting roughed up during your mission, you still smelled sweet to him. 
“Yeah, right.”
“Do you really think I’m so cruel?” you challenge him. He’s not going to take the bait. He won’t. 
“I’d assume you were a sadist.”
“You think I’m a sadist?” you laugh. 
“Probably,” Aki grumbles. He fidgets. 
He doesn’t want to take out another cigarette, but he’s convinced that it’s the only thing that would help him tolerate your presence right now. He’d felt unusual since he took you back to this apartment. His nose wrinkles at the memory of your body hours prior, your side saturated in blood. His rabbit heart thumping out of his chest at the thought you’d die in his arms — and yet here you are, next to him, teasing like you always do.
“Why?”
“Because you love pushing me to my limits,” he mutters. 
“Oh, come on,” you chuckle. “It’s not like I treat you like a toy. I’m not Makima.”
“What does Makima have to do with this—”
“Because you listen to everything she says. It’s like all of you fucking worship her.”
Your voice sounds bitter, but Aki doesn’t want to pry about it. For some reason, something in his chest riles him, makes his heartbeat faster at the prospect that you might be jealous of his devotion to Miss Makima. You’d always clashed in your beliefs but was never particularly candid about it – you were like him. You wanted to kill devils for the sake of avenging your family, but you also seemed apathetic about your life. With no family or a promising future, you often didn’t care if you died. It was the most frustrating thing about you.
Aki huffs. “You hate following rules yet you’re still controlling. It’s hypocritical.”
“I am not controlling.”
“You are. And you love to torment me because I’m the only one willing to put up with your shit,” he says, laughing humorlessly. You don’t know that he would do anything you told him, that he didn’t give a fuck about Makima. It had always been you, at the forefront of both his blissful dreams and worst nightmares.
“I like your resilience,” you say quietly.
“Resilience?”
You nod slowly. “You’re the strongest person I know, Aki.”
He hates how much dopamine fills his brain when you say this. The smallest praises from you would have him hung up, lately. Even a smile was motivating, though he’d rather die than admit that to anyone. He was never one to pine or yearn, keeping to himself since he was young. No girl could pry anything out of him that wasn’t surface-level until you. 
He hated it. It felt like a weakness.
“Yeah, right.”
“I mean it.”
“If I’m actually that strong, I probably would’ve broken down your walls by now.”
It could be a teasing statement, but he tucks his expression away into the fabric of his jacket, looking away from you. You’re so close to him, close enough to touch, but he still holds himself back.
“You should save your efforts,” you mumble. 
Aki looks at you with narrowed eyes and tries to scan your face for anything telling, but you’re as stoic as him. He’d always found it frustrating, how he could never get anything out of you. He didn’t know how to be selfish. He was apprehensive about provoking you despite how much he wanted to.
“Why?”
You finally look him in the eye. Your features are painted with stubborn contempt as you glare at him.
“Because I’m not worth it.”
Your words strike him through the heart. You weren’t one to be particularly insecure – he’d known this since he met you. But your words now are trying to downplay how much he feels for you, and he won’t have it. 
Aki moves close enough to you to smell your breath.
“You don’t get to decide whether or not I waste my time on you,” he protests.
You stare at him. You’re surprised he wants to know you at all. You’ve barely processed the meaning behind his words, the possibility of him wanting you beyond mission support and devil-hunting guidance. Both of you had walls up and that was fine. You never had any intention of breaking any of his, regardless of how often he showed up in your dreams. No matter how often you’d find yourself glancing at him, drinking up his features until you had snapped yourself out of it.
“You can’t want things as a devil hunter,” you say blankly, staring at the dark sky. “There’s no use. Desire is the root of all suffering and shit, right? Like in Buddhism?”
Aki feels his face warm up, his frown deepening as you say this without even looking at him.
“I’ll suffer for you if I want to,” he says firmly.
“Always a masochist,” you whisper, sighing. You smile weakly at him.
“Maybe I am a masochist.”
“I know. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be a devil hunter, huh?”
“Why are you a devil hunter?” he raises a brow. 
“Because it’s better than killing myself. If I die because of this job, at least I died being useful, you know?”
He swallows thickly at the thought of your death. He’d imagined it a thousand times since he met you and realized how sardonic you were, how little you cared about your own life. You were a mirror of him. 
“Don’t say shit like that,” he says, his tone cold. 
“It’s the truth.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not letting you die.”
You stare at him, the expression on your face unreadable. Your eyes look dim.
“Thanks,” you mutter. You slide the glass door open and go back inside. Aki feels his lungs ache.
Eventually, he follows you in and sees you on the couch, staring blankly at the television with a bottle of whiskey in your hand. He rolls his eyes. You were just as bad as Kishibe these days. 
He sits down next to you without a word, stealing the bottle to take a gulp, flinching. You watch with amusement. He grimaces at you.
“What?” he asks, irritated.
“You can do better than that.”
He wants to wipe the smirk off his face. Maybe with his mouth. He blinks at you a little too fast, then distracts himself with another gulp. A longer one that makes his throat burn, his head dizzy. You laugh.
“I fucking hate you,” he grumbles.
“I didn’t force you to do it,” you scoff. 
No, you didn’t. But it was always easy for Aki to do things for you. He often wanted to, didn’t ask any questions. You always wondered why.
“Would you roll around like a dog if I asked you to?” you grin.
“Fuck off.”
You lay down, perching your legs over his lap. He sets his hands on your thigh like it’s second nature to him. You scan his features. His midnight eyes glisten with the blue of the television reflecting in his irises, his mouth downturned into a default pout.
“You should keep your hair down more often.”
He looks at you with surprise, like he’d forgotten you were there.
“Pretty boy,” you mumble.
“You’re drunk.” He tries to keep his expression level. His face is hot from the whiskey, not you, he tells himself.
You shift your position and your foot grazes his crotch. It makes his breath hitch, the creature of want inside him gnawing at his heart. He thinks maybe you’re teasing him, so he takes your foot and rubs it. You raise a brow.
You’re sitting up now, grunting as you do. He pretends that you aren’t staring at him.
“Does it still hurt?” he murmurs.
“Nah. I’m good.”
There’s contempt on his face when he looks at you, his eyes tracing your collarbone just for a second before gazing at the blood on your shirt. Speckled shapes turning from red to brown.
“Let me see.”
“Aki. I’m fine.”
“Let me see,” he mumbles.
You sigh, unbuttoning your shirt until you’re only in a sports bra. He frowns at your wound, how the gauze is dark and nearly falling off. 
“Why didn’t you tell me it needed to be changed?”
“It’s fine—”
“No,” he scolds. “Stay still.”
He pins you down by your hips. Somehow, he’s in between your legs, his face frowning in concentration as he looks at your skin. He gets up to grab the first aid kit.
You take another sip of whiskey.
It numbs the pain when he fixes you up again. His fingers are delicate when they handle you — you can’t help but stare at the way they move when he blots your cut. A small press to the center and you feel it sting, making you hiss. He grips you by the waist to disarm you. 
Stay still.
“There,” he breathes, kneeling on the floor in front of you. “It’s more secure now.”
He looks at your stomach, watching the rise and fall of your skin as you breathe. You reach out and pat his head like he’s a pet. Aki was a cute drunk. Still stoic, but malleable in your hands. There are moments during group outings when he opens up a little, places his head on your shoulder. Looks at you for a bit longer than he normally allows himself to. 
He presses his cheek to your thigh and sighs as you skim the nape of his neck with your fingers. You stroke his jaw. It’s the closest he’s ever been to you. 
Your thumb hooks on his mouth briefly and you feel his tongue on the pad of your fingertip. He looks up at you with half-lidded eyes. Glazed over in the dimness, dripped in syrup.
“You’re barely awake,” you breathe. “I should go.”
“No.” He grips your wrist when you pull your hand away, saliva from his mouth creating the string of fate. The sight made your heart sing. Disgusting. 
“Why?” you whisper.
He’s quiet. He could bite the bullet, let the heat of it soar straight through his chest so you can see all the gory bits of desire in him. The whiskey only exacerbated the feeling. He was usually good at keeping it down, despite clinging to you like an extra limb. You probably saw right through him. 
“Just stay,” he mutters. 
“Make me stay, then.”
He hides his face in your lap again. He feels like such a boy. When you run your fingers through his hair again, he pulls away and grabs both of your wrists, pulling you toward him until you fall onto his lap, his body on the floor. He grips your hips and stares at you from below.
“What are you doing? You wanna wrestle?” you joke half-heartedly.
“No,” he slurs quietly. “You’re hurt.”
Aki sits up and leans on the back of his elbows. He looks at you like he’s eager prey, offering himself on a platter, but he won’t say it. It’s killing you.
“C’mon,” you grin. “I can take it.”
“Stop.”
You pin him to the ground. You’re playing. It’s just that and nothing else, isn’t it?
“Aki,” you say. Your face is so close to his. Your breath smells like tobacco and cinnamon, your neck like petrichor.
“I’m not letting you provoke me,” he groans. 
You roll your eyes. “Stop trying to take care of me.”
“But I want to,” he mumbles, his voice barely audible. 
“Then I’ll take care of you. I’m your senpai, remember?”
His face is hot again, sweat sticking to his shoulder blades. Fuck, he needed to fix the fan since Power and Denji had broken it while wrestling. The memory reminds him of the position he’s in right now and a flush creeps up his neck.
“I–”
Your mouth interrupts him. It’s an experimental peck. Impulsive. It’s short, but Aki groans into it and touches his tongue with yours. You pull away with wide eyes.
There’s hunger in his gaze, something like desperation. You could work with this. You knew that you had Aki wrapped around your finger since he started at Public Safety, but you didn’t know he would be like this. 
He breathes deeply, dark lashes blinking at you from the mess of his bangs. His dick was infallibly hard since you’d straddled him. It was aching now underneath your cunt — there was no hiding it.
He narrows his eyes, trying to disguise how much he wants you.
“Thought you said desire is the root of all suffering.”
“I guess we’re both masochists, then,” you whisper.
He kisses you with more force this time, buries his mouth into your neck to exhale the scent of his shampoo in your hair. Drunk on you. He sucks a hickey into your flesh like it’s payback.
He groans when he feels your hands underneath his shirt, rubbing against the pale skin of his abdomen until he takes the liberty to pull the fabric off himself. Aki has always been pretty – like a girl, like you’d told him before. He was also remarkably boyish. The shy type. He’d seem to grow muscles over the past year, his lean figure always hidden by the uniform. 
“Stop staring at me like that,” he huffs.
“Get uglier, then,” you roll your eyes, pulling at the zipper of his jeans. 
He lets you handle him like a doll. 
“Thought you’d be rougher,” you whisper.
“You’ve… thought about this before?” he asks.
You blink at him, then look away.
“Once or twice.”
“I’m not gonna be rough with you,” he says, his voice lower than before. “Not when you got stabbed earlier today.”
“Told you I’m a masochist,” you chuckle dryly. You strip off your slacks, showing off your less-than-sexy cotton underwear. He grazes your core, the wet patch growing larger with your slick.
“You’re so wet,” he mumbles, mesmerized. He licks his lips, wanting to taste you, lust transparent on his face. It humiliated you, for some reason — you were always used to it rough and fast, your vision blurred while you took cock that you didn’t give a shit about. This was different. This was real.
You put your fingers in his mouth again, pinning him down. He moans when you spit on the head of his cock, palming him gently. Taming him.
You slide your panties off of your legs and do the same with his briefs. When you hover over him, your throat feels tight. He keeps looking at you like you created him. Like you were the world itself.
His tip catches on the slick of your cunt, circling your entrance. Your blood boils, every ventricle in your body sparking to life. You feel him buck his hips, desperate and rutting.
“Use me,” he groans, muffled from your fingers on his tongue.
You sink down on him and his eyes roll back. You remove your fingers from his mouth to toy with your clit, whimpering at the sensation of him filling you up. He was bigger than you expected.
Aki shudders from sensitivity. Alcohol usually numbs his senses, but he can feel all of you, how hot and tight you are. It’s driving him mad. He hiccups through moans, his throat raw. 
Your cunt pulses as you grind on him, trembling above him as you try to keep your hips from stuttering too much. Already, you were about to fall apart. 
“Fuck,” Aki mutters. 
Your hand grazes his face and jaw, and he leans into your palm to kiss it earnestly. Your face burns as you tangle your fingers in his raven hair. When he rises to kiss you, you pull his strands while your other hand holds him back by his shoulder. He groans and thrusts upward into you, holding your hips so that your thighs are flush against his.
Your pulse throbs against the cave of your chest. Aki is desperate to kiss you, to get his tongue in your mouth, so he uses your own trick on you – pulls you in with force and grabs a fistful of your hair. You moan into his mouth, tapering off into a whimper, and you feel him let out a breathy laugh in between kisses.
Aki lets himself be a little loud — no one else was home, and fucking you was cathartic. He squeezes the fat of your thigh, his lunacy suppressed into his tight fists. Entranced by the sight of your cunt swallowing up his dick. 
You whimper as your knees start to get rug burn, the skin as raw as the love bites on your neck. Your stomach stirs, ecstasy boiling in the pit. You could pretend it was love from the way he gripped you.
“You’re fucking tight,” he grunts.
“Do you like it?” you rasp. You almost sound like you’re begging.
He nods and holds your face, his other hand making an imprint on your waist. Aki was so much taller than you — his size didn’t register until now, the way he was forcing your chin up to look up into his eyes. 
He can barely speak, only letting out choked moans and heavy breaths. You look so vulnerable despite being on top of him. He could picture it now, your thighs shaking with arms outstretched to him in morning light. Bare-faced and illuminated, not a bruise on your body. Happy in another life.
“Fuck, Aki,” you moan.
“Again,” he breathes.
“What?”
“Say my name again. Like that.” Like you love me.
“A-Aki,” you whine, gasping for air. “Close.”
A rush of blood to the head. He almost wants to tell you he loves you, force you to say it back to him in between swapping spit. Even if it was just pretend.
You writhe as you cum. Heat-struck by the coil breaking in your stomach. It was like he was melting your insides. He feels your cunt twitch and spills into you with a groan, nose buried in your hair. 
He winces as he pulls out of you, his cum getting the carpet wet. He’ll have to clean it up later. He breathes heavily and looks anywhere but your face.
“Lie down with me,” you whisper.
So he does, face to face with you, his arm loose over your waist. He wants to kiss you, but he assumes you’ve had your fill. He wonders if you’ll ever toy with him like that again. He hates himself for how badly he wants it.
But then you look at him, your eyes searching his for meaning. Unspoken words. 
“You okay, baby?”
He’s shocked at the nickname, blushing like he didn’t just fuck you to the moon and back.
He nods, blinking rapidly when you stroke his jaw gently. Branding him with tenderness. Maybe he shouldn’t have slept with you. He didn’t want to be a sycophant, but he still felt attached to you, and it would only get worse from here. Stuck on his heart like chewed gum.
“Angel boy,” you sigh, hazed. You’re still a little drunk. “Pretty.”
“Don’t talk to me like I’m a dog.”
“What are you, then?”
He says nothing. You smile. The warmth in his chest is immeasurable. It aches like a wound that never heals. He supposes that’s what you are for him. But what is he?
“Yours.”
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chenfordspiral · 3 days
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The fact that every time someone says something negative about a fic, it’s on bloody “anonymous” because these cowards aren’t even brave enough to reveal who they are.
If you don’t like something, STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM IT AND MOVE ON. No one wants you to read anyway if all you do is leave negativity behind. I’m so damn tired of this shit.
We write fics for free, show writers some love and respect for putting their works out there. It’s a lot more than just clicking a few buttons to hit post - we put our hearts and souls into these stories, so please just be kind.
Is that too much to ask?
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gh0stsp1d3r · 2 days
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ℳ𝒶𝓎𝒷𝒶𝓃𝓀𝓈 𝓈𝒾𝓈𝓉ℯ𝓇
Chapter 6- just like your father
Series masterlist
Warnings- once again not too much rafe): I’m trying to get more rafe in the next parts, the readers drunk the whole time basically lol
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“Now a live update from the sheriffs department.”
“Yeah, after six weeks, the five teens that had been missing from Kildare county have returned, been reunited with their families.” Rafe went closer to the tv, sitting down and staring out. “We’re still waiting for details about their journey. But I’m sure they have quite a tale to tell.”
“We also got word that the father of one of the teens, John B Routledge, who’s been presumed dead for a year now, has also returned live and well. Wonders never cease. Right now, we’re just trying to get those kids settled back into school, with their families. They’ve been through a lot.”
���The teens were down in Kildare island with two other Kildare teens, Sarah Cameron and Y/N Maybank.” The sheriff spoke.
Rafes eyes widened at the mention of you and his sister.
“Sarah’s the daughter of disgraced real estate magnate, Ward Cameron, who confessed to the murder of Peterkin two months ago. y/n is the daughter of Luke Maybank, who is also presumed missing after escaping prison.”
Rafe watched as both of your pictures were put on screen, he recognized yours to be one of you you posted to your instagram, you at the beach. He was in the background, he noticed upon looking closer. Then, a picture of your brother, you and your dad.
You looked at the tv screen, scoffing at the picture they put up when they said your dad’s name. A picture of you, JJ and your dad. It was JJ’s first day of school, you remember that day as if it was your own first day of school.
You gripped the can harder, heavily sighing and leaning back in the chair. Yeah, you’d need more than one drink today.
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“When I was there, Rafe was talking about how the cross was his. Not- not Ward’s.” You told them all, hiccuping after and covering your mouth.
“Are you- are you seriously drunk right now?” Pope asked, all of them noticing the way you slurred your words.
“Fuck off. I’m an adult. Can do whatever I want.” You said with a childish giggle.
“It’s like 10 am in the morning.”
“Yo!” Kiara sapped her fingers. “Can we please get back on the topic?”
“Right. And he’s coming into Wilmington tonight at eight. It’s being shipped by train from like… R.. Ra… Raleigh I think? I dunno.”
“You get any other information?” Pope asked.
“Uh, y/n got the cargo number.” Kiara spoke, picking up the paper.
“Okay, well, that’s a start.”
“I mean, they’re definitely fencing that shit off as we speak. So we should probably get a move on.” JJ said, watching you down the rest of the can, and grab a 4th one next to you from your spot on the floor.
“Sarah, you hear from John B?”
“No, I mean, he’s probably off somewhere with his dad. But the problem is they have the Twinkie.”
“Our transportation.”
“I have a car, you know? It’s a hunk of shit, but it works.” You shrugged.
All of them raised their eyebrows at that. “It’s back at Ricky’s. I should probably go talk to him anyways.”
They all were hesitant, you could tell.
“I’m- I’m your only fuckin’ option, so, my car or nothing.”
“She’s right.” JJ told them, already hopping on his bike.
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“Ricky?” You shouted when you opened the door. He wasn’t home, you sighed, taking the keys off the counter and stumbling back outside.
“He not home?” JJ asked, furrowing his eyebrows.
“Nope.” You told him, locking the door. You go into the car, trying to get it started. But it never turns on, you groan in annoyance, fumbling with the keys, and trying again.
“Goddamnit!” You laughed, slamming your fist onto the dashboard and going out.
“It’s… not working.”
“Not working? What’s wrong with it?”
“I don’t know! It’s not fucking starting.” You shrugged.
JJ threw his hands up in defeat.
“Alright. That’s okay. We can.. try my dads.” Pope said.
“And I’ll try to see if my parents will.” Kiara spoke.
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You ended up going with JJ and Kiara to her parents.
“Jesus, Cleo was not wrong. It does look like the White House.” You mumbled when you entered. You drunkenly stumbled up the steps, JJ rolling his eyes and eventually just helping you up once you almost fell.
“We just found out it’s… it’s gonna be in Wilmington tonight.”
“Okay, and the cross is Popes family-“
“Popes family heirloom.” Kiara finished.
“Shit, this house is nice. Think we could just…?” You told JJ, grabbing an expensive bracelet sitting on the counter and pocketing it.
An idea popped into his head when you did that. If they don’t wanna give them the keys, he can take them.
“He’s alive!” Kiara argued. “JJ.” She turned, the cutlery clanking as he put it away guiltily, getting caught messing with it.
“Do rich people really need to use like… fancy everything? Like fancy plates? Is that necessary?” You mumbled, mostly to yourself as you took another sip.
“A little help?”
He put his hand up, counting off his fingers.
“Wards alive in the Carribean. He’s living off the loot he stole from us, and, uh, yeah, he’s flying across to Wilmington.”
“I was-“ you covered your mouth when you hiccuped again. “With them during the whole thingie. Basically I fell into the water…” you imitated water splashing with your hands.
“And it was like ‘ahhh! Now I’m stuck with my ex boyfriend who’s also crazy on an island, ahh!’ And then we went to some vacation home he has, and I saw Ward and he was like ‘sup, y/n. I’m alive.’ And that’s what happened.” You nodded to yourself, all of them staring at you dumbfounded.
“Give me a break, man.” Kiara’s dad spoke.
“Yeah, you’re right. What do I know? Just saw it with my own two eyes.” You shrugged, rolling your eyes and taking another sip from the bottle. “So did Kiara and JJ but, whatever.”
“I’m skeptical, okay? I am skeptical, y/n as in I think it’s all bullshit. And I think you’ve been led astray, Kiara. And you, JJ, Y/N- let’s get this out in the open.”
“Just take it down a bit-“ her mom tried.
“No. Let me tell you something, you need to understand that I do get it.”
“Sure you do.” You and JJ said in unison, you both laughing at that.
“Do you hear me?”
“Sure. Sure.”
“I like you, guys, and I bet you’re fricking fun to hang with, and to ditch school with, go down to the break, and.. drink beer,” he directed that last sentence to you, eyeing the can in your hand.
“because I was once just like you both. I didn’t think that anything mattered, thought I could make up any bullshit story and these stupid kooks would believe it. But then I learned about hard work.”
“Yeah, well, hard work doesn’t get you shit if you’re like us. I mean- shit, compared to me, you have no clue what hard work is like.” You spat, pointing to yourself. He was getting to close to JJ for your comfort.
He narrowed his eyes at you. “And about what really mattered. All I care about, all that I care about is my daughter. That’s it. And all I know is that she was a lot better off before she met you and your friends.” He said, this sentence directed to JJ.
“Dad, I was never better off!” Kiara argued, you looked at JJ, shaking your head when you saw his reaction. You were gonna kill this guy.
“I was miserable.”
“Miserable? No, no. No!” He shouted, turning to you and JJ.
“No, these pogues have ruined my daughter’s life.” He shouted in your face, you stood in front of JJ, trying your best to protect him.
“Didn’t mean any disrespect, Mr. Carrera.” You told him, turning to usher JJ out.
“Y’all have a good day.” JJ spoke, both of you heading to the door.
“Yeah.”
“What are you doing?” Kiara asked.
“Protecting my daughter.”
“Can we please-“
“Wait a second. Everybody says it, they are liars and thief’s!” Her dad shouted.
You and JJ stopped in your tracks.
“They’re just like their father! I mean, one of them is already drunk off their ass!”
The two words neither of you wanted to hear.
You looked at JJ, who held back tears at the words. You held your own back, throwing the rest of the can, looking at it pour onto the hardwood floor.
You grabbed the keys from the tray, you looked around again, shrugging before grabbing a jacket on the coat hanger, as well as some shoes.
“Wanna talk shit, you’re gonna get bit, right?” You mumbled to yourself, shrugging and following JJ down the steps.
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“Is she.. talking with Topper?” Pope asked, all of them turning to you and Topper at the bar.
“He didn’t want me to say anything, but he’s a fucking mess.” Topper said with a laugh, you laughed with him.
“Yeah, well, he was an asshole. So…” you said, taking the shot you ordered.
“Believe me, I know.” He told you,
“Hey, Jayj.”
“What?”
“I bet you Topper has a way to transport the cross.” Pope spoke.
“Actually, Popes right. He does have a rig.”
“No.” Sarah argued.
“Yes.”
“Yes, come on.”
“No, absolutely not.”
“What are we talking about?” You asked them, coming up behind them suddenly.
“Sarah, you already got him whipped anyway, right? So why don’t you just take one for the team?”
“What would John B say?” She said.
“I think John B will completely understand. Think about the circumstances, it’s about treasure.”
“We can handle John B. Just talk to him.”
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“Why do I feel like I’m gonna regret this?” Topper spoke, all of you happy when you saw her hug him.
You ended up falling asleep on the boat. Your eyes shut as they all came up with plans.
You can’t even escape him in your dreams. Because when you fell asleep, a fond memory of the two of you popped up in your mind.
“Shit, slow down.” He laughed, grabbing onto your hand as you ran down, pushing past people and making your way down straight to the floor.
“Can’t believe I let you drag me into this shit.” He said with a laugh when the band came on stage and cheers erupted.
He watched you while you paid close attention to the band. And when your guys song came on, he was told to sing with you, he hesitated but eventually did.
“Got the music in you, baby. Tell me why. You've been locked in here forever. And you just can't say goodbye. Your lips, my lips. Apocalypse.”
You both sung to each other, you staring at him with the most love and adoration he’s ever seen, and him staring at you with the most love anyone’s ever seen him have.
You both leaned in, but before your lips connected…
You woke up, quickly sitting up and groaning, wiping the sleep from your eyes.
“Jesus. Think I drunk too much earlier. I’m going crazy.” You told them, all of them turning to look at you now.
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Taglist
@cassie0sstuff @rafesgiirl @fals3-g0d @tiaamberxx @callsignwidow @saintnourah
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bepisbee · 2 days
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made a vidow carnivore shadow short!
also go look at it!! amazing art by @space-puppeteer its so good!
(post manga shadow lives situation)
The others were honestly a little terrified the first time they came home to Vio with his hand in Shadow’s mouth. They had been taking advantage of the quiet space. Since his initial curiosity he hadn’t had much time to delve deeper into Shadow’s unique intricacies.
It only made sense. He required a different diet than them after all. Why not learn the most he can? Vio was charting how many, where, and how sharp his mouth of canines were. Shadow was sitting patiently, mouth wide and frozen solid as the rest of Link stood there mortified.
Vio hadn’t noticed them until Red started crying about Shadow eating him.
Boy, that was a fun conversation.
Shadow focused back on Vio as he snapped  back swiftly with a hiss. He’d nicked himself on one of the more dangerous teeth. Despite it really not being his fault, Shadow found himself apologizing.
“Sorry…” he held out his clawed hand to ask for Vio’s. He took it and gently rolled it over. He inspected it closely. Just a small cut on his finger, clean like a fresh knife. He made eye contact and kissed the spot softly pressing his tongue to it for a second. “You ok?”
Vio’s cheeks flushed from the unexpected intimate gesture. It shook him out of his hyperfocus. “Ah-” he cleared his throat. “Ahem. yeahh thanks. I’m okay,”
Shadow gave him his hand back.
“Do you…” He rolled over how to ask, “Have you… hunted for animals? with these?” Vio held Shadow’s hand this time, admiring the painted nails.
He laughed, “Hahaha, what, like a wolfos?” he could see it, funny as that was. “Not here I haven’t. There was always enough from the hinox and other creatures under us.” he waved his unoccupied hand dismissively. “There are markets, you know.” He subconsciously licked his teeth at the thought. “I have to be a wolfos for Halloween now.”
“Hm.” Vio stopped his inspection, interlacing their fingers instead. “Do you think maybe that accounts for your occasional over aggression and bloodlust?”
“You’re always so blunt.” he snorted, but not offended. “I dunno. Maybe? Are you suggesting I go serial killer on the local wildlife?”
“Haha, no no. I’m just thinking out loud. We should make a trip in town soon though,” Though, they might end up hunting anyway, lest they sell out the butcher. He got lost in thought about it again, mumbling. Did he need to sharpen either, like a cat? What type he liked better, how cooked, would he eat a cow?
“A cow??” oops he said that out loud. Shadow laughed really hard. “hahahaha what? like, just bite it??” His big grin showed off the sharp set. “If you bet me to, I would.”
Vio shook his head, amused. “No…well…maybe. The others would be upset.”
“Nerd.” Shadow leaned in and pecked his cheek.
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modawg · 8 hours
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i feel like we don’t collectively talk enough abt how much athena HATES percy like legitimately despises him
like we know this right ??
through what i remember (and you can correct me if i’m wrong) poseidon never makes any type of direct threat in anyway to harm or interrupt percy and annabeths relationship/annabeth in general; which i’ll make a whole other post abt - not that he’s ok with it or agrees with it but i think he’s in a tough spot when it comes to this in comparison to annabeth and athena’s dynamic
however athena does on multiple occasions and it’s not small things like she and aries actively try to get percy killed in ttc along with her “talk” she had with percy abt disapproving of percabeths friendship
also she’s like baiting him when he’s offered immortality her going “and what of my daughter” girl is not trying to get them together that’s like the craziest question to ask him bc she’s either trying to get him to decline so he can die faster or she can make a point to the gods later saying that he’s dangerous since the gods can’t use him as an easy pawn when he’s not chained to godhood
OR she’s baiting him to LET ANNABETH DOWN like she’s saying “what abt annabeth tho :/ dang ur gonna leave her ?? :( it’s almost like i called it :,( poor annabeth mommy will kiss it better naive child” like WOAHHH
also just the entirety of annabeth and athena’s relationship in regards to percy in hoo
i feel like in all the fanfics i read percy and athena are civil with each other or i could almost see it from the sevens perspective of maybe thinking athena and poseidon hate each other but it doesn’t fully reach to their kids bc of how lightly percabeth almost makes it
like would you think if a god hates a guys guts and wants him dead for dating her daughter when he’s the son of said gods arch nemesis (lmao) he’d be out here making out with her in the exact spot they became arch nemesis (arch nemesis’s ?)
like i just feel like we gotta take this more serious bc swear percy’s gonna drop down on one knee and athena’s just going to appear behind him with a glock 90 pressed to the back of his skull before he can even pop the question
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flowersofstarlight · 2 days
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Hello, everyone! My name is “Connie” (or Flower if you want to call me that) and welcome to my art! Here is my persona. And yes, I like flowers and stars, which is why my social media is called “FlowersOfStarlight”. 💖💜💕🌸🌼🌟✨🌌
I am a 21-year-old hobbyist artist who likes to draw. I am autistic and a Taiwanese-American. Both my parents were born in Taiwan and many of my family members speak Chinese and English. But I only speak English.
I only know several words that I can speak in Chinese like “Hello”, “Bye”, “Thank you”, “Happy Lunar New Year”.
I mainly draw fanarts from my favorite games, series, and movies. I like to draw my favorite characters and ideas I want to draw. And my birthday is on December 9. So, you can either draw my OCs or my persona as a birthday gift or say “Happy Birthday” in the comment or reblog when I post a gif on my birthday.
But I want to mention to you that I do NOT do request art, art trades, collab, and ships that you want me to draw. I’m NOT interested and there are many reasons why I don’t do those unless it’s my friends who I trusted. So please do not ask me to draw something you want me to draw. I only draw what I want to draw. And I am busy in college doing assignments, so it may take a week or more to post new art.
Anyway, when I draw fanarts in my free time, I sometimes like to either color or sketch them depending on my mood and if I feel like I want to color my drawings or not. I don’t do digital drawings because I’m more comfortable drawing with paper and color pencils only. I don’t have any drawing tablets and I’m not interested in it. I much prefer traditional drawing.
The fandoms I’m currently in are Welcome Home, Hello Puppets, and the Smiling Critters. My favorite games are Kirby, Sonic the Hedgehog, Mega Man (classic), Minecraft: Story Mode, Poppy Playtime, Hello Puppets, Little Nightmares, Undertale, and Deltarune.
I don’t play video games anymore, I only watch gameplays on YouTube.
My number one favorite shows I really enjoyed watching are Amphibia and The Owl House. Avatar: The Last Airbender and Gravity Falls are also my favorite and were my childhood.
So yeah. That’s all I want to mention. 😊💖✨
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writing-for-life · 1 day
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Considering this is a site where so many people have aspirations to become professional authors or artists, I think it’s really astounding that many (often the same) people encourage book piracy. And by that I mean: They don’t just do it behind closed doors (whatever, do what you have to do and keep it to yourself)—they actually package it as some act of immeasurable kindness in the name of “social justice”. And I’d say: If you’re not a professional author and have no experience in or with publishing, hence don’t really understand what it means to make your living as a writer, maybe just… don’t? And if you ever want to sell your books, maybe also just… don’t?
It’s not some cool subversive thing in the name of social justice you’re doing. You’re really hurting authors with it, and it’s in no way comparable to “fighting the big bad streamers.”
Yes, Neil Gaiman will be okay, but if you’re saying it’s okay to do it to him, you’re also saying by extension it’s okay to do it to lesser known authors. And those authors make up the vast (and I mean vast!) majority of authors. But maybe you’re one of those people who think that all artists are minted and picture them in La La Land, entirely possible. If that’s the case, maybe educate yourself what the median income of authors is, be very surprised and wake up. Sometimes, it really helps to think before hitting post. And if rants are not your thing, this is the exit sign because I’m not going to mince my words…
Here are a couple of really good comments from *that* post that people should maybe inwardly digest before they prioritise being oh-so-understanding and supportive of every Tom, Dick & Harry who “can’t afford the book” via piracy (how about buying them one instead if you care so much. No? Thought so) over supporting authors, artists and, yes, libraries:
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(Re the last comment: Or use online libraries—they’re also free. That was also part of above post btw. Libby, Hoopla etc exist for a reason.)
If that’s all too hard, then let’s at least stop pretending on here that we care about supporting authors and artists while vocally supporting book piracy. Because really, it’s the same in all arts, even if the symptoms are slightly different—take it from one who is both a published author and used to be a stage performer.
And to say it quite frankly: These “ideas” are probably held by the same people who were tearfully blabbering about the arts being what kept them going during the pandemic and then forgot about it all when lockdown was over. Or maybe they are the same people who think that art is a “jolly pastime”, and that everyone should just be content to “do it for the love of it and give their art away for free because awwwww, so amazing, here, buy food with my exposure bucks.” Go on then, write and consume fanfics and create fanart, problem solved. Just don’t ever ask for the pro art that inspires it again. Ah no, I forgot, it’s all made for money and soulless anyway, innit? Why oh why then do you want to consume and pirate it though?
You’re not progressive and/or supportive of artists. You just have no clue how making a living in the arts works and think your comfort (= “I have to have all the things even if I can’t afford them”) matters more than someone’s livelihood (namely that of the people who devoted their lives to creating that art for you), and it really shows.
I don’t care about anyone’s Google history and even said so several time on here when people asked (this is the latest one, and yes, I see the people who had a “reaction” to this one or the reblog above, but I bet that’s “coincidence”). Do whatever you want to do, it’s your choice, keep it to yourself. But stop pretending that piracy means “caring about the noble cause”, because repackaging entitlement as social activism is performative crap…
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lilislegacy · 3 days
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It’s me again. Hi.
So my favorite artist BoyWithUke (yes, he’s the guy who sang Toxic and went viral in 2022 on Tik Tok) has some songs that are very Percabeth coded, and I wanted your opinion on them. I’m only going to do five, but he has a lot more, and a lot more that apply to different characters.
The first one is Falling for You. There isn’t anything specific about it, it just reminds me of them.
The second one is called Bad Things, and it’s kind of what I hc things were like Post-Tartarus. He also said in an insta post he wrote it about his girlfriend when he was going through a time of severe anxiety/panic attacks, and it just felt very Percy. (I’m actually writing a fic about it)
The third one is called Camouflage, and it reminds me a lot of Annabeth in the first five books. Some of the lyrics are just so fitting.
The fourth one is Hazel Eyes, which applies a lot more to the show version, but also just had those same vibes as them.
The fifth one is Prairies. It goes back and forth between him and another singer (so boy and girl) and it’s so Percabeth it’s crazy.
Honorable mention goes to Tired of Wanting You. It’s kinda Percy in the og books, but if he was a little more aware that he liked her lol.
Anyway, I just wanted to give you these songs and see what your opinion on them was!! If you’re curious in some of the other ones I have for certain characters/relationships (platonic or romantic) let me know:)
thanks for the ask @justanothernamelessauthor!
aww, these were all great!!
the 2nd one was SO good! the lyrics are amazing. the internal conflict is so percy
same thing with the 3rd one. it definitely gives annabeth vibes, and how she carried the burden of knowing the prophecy and meanwhile was faling for percy. the lyrics “you’re making it worse, but i want to see you again” is so similar to percy saying “I was glad to be with her, but it also kind of hurt, and it hurt when I wasn't with her, too.”
i really like the 5th one with the back and forth! this was probably my 2nd favorite!
honestly my favorite was the honorable mention lol, tired of wanting you. it actually gave me the most percabeth vibes. because in BotL and TLO they are both just so angry and frustrated all the dam time because they have such big feelings for each other but aren’t acting on them.
i love these all. thank you!
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looptroupe · 2 days
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HI GORGEOUS!!!!
PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE TELL US ABOUT YOUR WIPS AND AUS IM REALLY INTERESTED 🙏🙏🙏
Foams at the mouth
I’m in the middle of writing up a whole HC post for someone asking about a highschool AU but I’m gonna take this opportunity to sidetrack the conversation towards something I’d love to genuinely see from the series… a HEAVY (film) noir lean. Think: Bogart, Framed, Gilda, Vertigo… probably pushing the era back 40’s, 50’s way (Maybe even some 30’s lean in there, if I could get away with it) instead of the general 60’s vibe Lupin has going for it.
I think there’s a TON of potential there. I mean, I’m aware something like this was pitched (and never picked up, sigh…) so there IS sentiment there, and the idea has been thought about, but instead of TWCFM’s ‘serious Lupin’ I’d love to see a true noir ‘serious Lupin’. I think you can put these characters into a serious setting without making them straight up evil, and I’ll be honest, I think it would be way more appealing than the stuff they’ve been releasing lately (besides Zero. I have to admit that I loved Zero).
I’d want the gang to actually feel like criminals, though. Cutting shady deals in illegal bars, Lupin running his mouth to big players about whatever new heist he has up his sleeve. I’d take them back to being Miyazaki-esque ‘living paycheck-to-paycheck’ rather than ‘insta-rich Lupin funding his hedonistic spirit’ because I think that would work better in this universe: Lupin is constantly getting them in hot shit with the big leagues because he can’t keep his mouth shut. Jigen has shot ten guys this week who have come knocking at their hideout’s door looking for trouble. Goemon’s sick of digging graves and is antsy to finally be who he dreams of being. Fujiko’s got her eyes on a bigger prize, like always.
Zenigata’s an underpaid beat-cop-turned-inspector who has been trying to climb the ranks for a long while. He’s ambitious, but a little too soft for his own good: he’s hopeful in a way that most of the guys in his squad aren’t, and that makes him the perfect candidate for when the commissioner has to shill a shitty 9-5 case on an unsuspecting worker. A file lands on his desk, and he flips through it with this eager fire, like he’s just been asked to take on the world, and Lupin and his gang smile up at him from the pages.
Lupin is a crook, he learns. Part-time petty thief, full-time smooth-talker: a man with a legacy to live up to and not a whole lot to show for it besides a reputation as a lady-killer and a particularly long unpaid tab at the seediest bar in town. His sticky fingers have landed him in more trouble than they’ve gotten him out of, and recent reports say that he’s managed to get under the skin of the most notorious once-criminal-now-film-director in town… the very criminal that underhandedly paid Zenigata’s boss to start an official investigation in the first place.
Jigen is a gun-for-hire. Babysitter, bodyguard, hitman… whatever you need, he’ll do, however begrudgingly. He’s not a guy you mess with: and his reputation is actually pretty good in criminal circles. He’s well-respected and well-liked. Or, he was, until the monkey-faced man at the bar implicated him in a crime he didn’t commit. Now, he’s babysitting without pay, and he’s starting to get a little sick of having to put bullets into the faces of old friends who decide his bounty is worth more than his loyalty. Figures.
Goemon’s a man slightly-less-out-of-time. A famous Japanese-American film star, he’s known world-over for starring in Samurai flicks alongside his leading lady, Fujiko Mine. The thing is, Goemon is classically trained in swordslinging, and when Lupin offers him an opportunity to be the very person he’s been portraying on screen, he’s more than happy to throw his reputation away. He never cared much for fame, anyway. There’s just this one little hitch: he’s enamoured with the sword he last used on set, and he won’t take no for an answer when he asks Lupin to retrieve it for him.
Fujiko has her eyes on a prize a little more exciting than Zantetsuken: the film empire she’s helped build herself. The tabloids can’t get enough of her, and she knows that a marriage to the most famous director the world has ever seen might just secure her a place in history. The thing is, the man she’s trying her best to seduce has stopped paying her attention since his beloved priceless-antique-turned-prop-sword went missing, and she’s determined to get it back for him. Because what would make him fall quicker? Ah, there’s just one catch: Lupin is kind of charming, and the life he’s living is… exciting. Tempting. Fujiko likes playing with fire, but she’s starting to get a little too close to this one particular flame. The heat has her cheeks burning… Or maybe that’s Goemon’s doing.
They’re a strange little bunch, the Lupin Gang. But man, do people have a habit of underestimating them. Zenigata included. Because what he thinks to be a simple case of theft soon turns into something more sinister as the layers of movie-magic veneer begin to peel away. Maybe Lupin was onto something, targeting this guy, and maybe this hotshot director isn’t quite as reformed as he says he is.
He went to court recently, after all. Say, how much did he pay the judge to overturn that guilty verdict? Zenigata would like that sum as a pay rise once this has all blown over. That, and some fresh smokes.
((Mmm someone should hop on board and help me develop this I think. Could be a fun little exercise on the side… if it’s up anyone’s alley >:) ))
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Satoru Gojo with a lesbian best friend
Hey there! This is my first ever posted piece of writing and I’m starting off with a random thought that has been in my brain for 3 DAYS-
anyway, call me AGG or AGGIE if you want so.. enjoy :D
warnings: minor hidden inventory arc spoilers, pedophile joke, tiny bit of cursing
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TEEN GOJO: •Ok so, Gojo as your best friend.. AND BEING LESBIAN is a total feat-
•You 2 would probably meet by him hitting on you and you’re just over here like; 🧍‍♀️
•Once the fact that you like girls click to his mind, he’ll want to become friends with you cuz teen Gojo was just a lil’ silly guy, yk? :D
•All of his fangirls would most likely get the wrong idea and think you’re his girlfriend or something
•You know that one scene where Gojo changed his lock screen to Inoue Waka?
•Yup. The moment Gojo said “Isn’t she hot?” I BET YOU LOOKED OVER TO SEE WHO IT WAS yes, I watched dub.
•He would most likely tease you with Geto when your crush walked by.
•Gojo would probably ask you for girl advice and you would ask him back.
•Now you guys are going through a chalkboard all about girls and crushes to see all the possible outcomes of asking them out.
•He would probably sit with you in silence but try to lighten the mood by saying “Found any new girls yet?”
•Gojo is definitely going to make several jokes about you liking Shoko, Mei mei, and even Utahime-
•Whenever you talk to a girl you like, he would most likely start playing some romantic music to embarrass you
•The thing he would stoop down low to is while meeting Riko, he would say “Woah there Y/n! We can’t have a pedophile near the kid!”
•*Cue Geto scolding Gojo for saying that IN FRONT of Riko*
ADULT GOJO:
•He would definitely still pull the pedophile joke in front of his students
•Yuji and Nobara FLIP when they find out you liked girls
•ofc Megs knew cuz Gojo begged you to help out with Megumi and Tsumiki years ago
•Once you find out about the Jogo and Gojo fight, you immediately have the urge to ask him “So.. you’re gay now?”
•He’d probably answer with “So.. you’re still single?” or “Maybe I am, maybe I’m not.”
•But let’s say you actually a girlfriend..
•HE IS SPILLING TEA WITH THE 1 YEARS AND THE 2ND YEARS ASAP😭
•Now, you have teenagers begging to meet your girlfriend.
•If you ever break up with her, then expect Gojo to either barge into your house with a TON sweets
•”sigh.. I always knew you were gonna stay single!”
•During the reunion with Geto and shit, he would just drop the bomb on you and say “You still single? Seems like girls just aren’t into you.” JUST TO PISS YOU OFF AND EXPOSE YOU IN FRONT OF THE 2ND YEARS😨 cuz he’s just that kind of bitch
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Note: Wow, that was kinda short but it was all I could think of! Hope you enjoyed! My requests are always open! <3
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bigoltrashpile · 3 days
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Stay With Us
Hi guys!! Once again the lovely @galacticroyal93 has commissioned me! This is a yandere fic with all the boys trying to convince reader to finally move in with them! I hope you enjoy!
Lucky growled as he scrolled through the pictures on his phone.  His face almost hurt from how hard he was scowling.  All he wanted was a good picture of you to add to his collection, but every one had…him in it.  Your boyfriend.  Another growl escaped Lucky as he thought the word.  Every picture you had posted to your social media for the last few months had that scum in it.
All the skeletons had, either separately or together, plotted to kill him, of course.  They couldn’t just let some…nobody have you.  However, Papyrus had pointed out that if they killed him now, it might only force you into depression and solitude, pushing you further away instead of closer.  So they were forced to watch from afar, all seething with jealousy when you talked about your boyfriend.
Lucky chuckled as he remembered how each of them reacted when you introduced them to your date.  They ranged from Papyrus trying hard to smile but looking like he had just eaten a lemon, to Scar outright producing bone attacks and using his claws to sharpen them.  After a little while, you stopped mentioning him around the skeletons, and he hadn’t seen any of them face to face since that first meeting.
Of course, many of them had seen him.  They had to keep tabs on their favorite human, of course, and try to find dirt about their least favorite human.
After what felt like the hundredth photo of you and your boyfriend on a date, Lucky was fed up.  He tossed his phone across the room and stood up.  If he wanted to see you, he could do it in person.  No need to look at photos when he could just see you for himself!  Those pictures could never capture your true beauty, anyway.
Before he left, he quickly grabbed the small blue vial given to him by this world’s Alphys.  He probably wouldn’t need to use it, but you could never be too prepared.
Lucky quickly shortcutted close to your home.  Just appearing on your doorstep would seem too clingy, this way he could pretend he was just in the area when you saw him.  He and the others had done this same song and dance many times before, but you hadn’t suspected anything yet.
He had only been walking for a minute or so, when someone walked almost straight into his chest.  “WOAH, WATCH OUT-OH!”  What luck!  It was you!!  “HELLO, DEAR!  WHAT A COINCIDENCE!” he said, turning on the charm.  “IT’S ALWAYS A DELIGHT TO SEE Y-”  Lucky froze.  You looked…strange.  Not in a bad way, but…  “Have You Been Crying?”
You paused, touching your red and puffy eyes.  “Huh?  Oh, no!  I mean, yeah, but no.  I was crying but like, it’s fine,” you half laughed.
Well that didn’t do anything to soothe his mind.  “SO YOU WERE CRYING?  WHY?  DID YOUR BOYFRIEND DO SOMETHING?”  He tried to fight the part of him that hoped your boyfriend had messed up his relationship with you.
“I mean…yeah?  But also it was me who did it,” you giggled again.  “Let’s walk, actually, and I can tell you about it!”
You kept going down the street, practically humming as you did.  A very strange thing for someone who was just crying but also not crying.  “...ARE YOU HIGH?” Lucky asked, following close behind.  
“Uh huh!  Oooooooh that’s probably why you thought I was crying!” you seemed to connect the dots in  your fuzzy brain.  “Yeah, it’s fine!  I just broke up with my boyfriend and wanted to take the edge off a bit,” you said casually.
It took every ounce of self control for Lucky to not cheer and pump his fist in the air.  You were single!  This was the greatest thing that had ever happened!!!  He let a small smile play across his face.  You were slightly in front of him, he could allow himself that luxury.  “I’M SO SORRY TO HEAR THAT!”  Hopefully your smoke addled brain wouldn’t hear the excitement in his voice.  
“It’s okay.  It was…probably not the best relationship,” you admitted.  “I mean, he wasn’t abusive or anything!  He just like, didn’t listen to me ever, you know?”
“HE DID ALWAYS SEEM LIKE THERE WASN’T A LOT UPSTAIRS,” Lucky admitted.
“Yeah, haha!  He’s a dumbass!” you joked, smacking Lucky playfully on the arm.  “Not like you guys!”
Lucky gritted his teeth.  Of course.  You weren’t only thinking of him, but the others as well.  That’s okay, he could work with this.  “I DON’T KNOW, BUTCH IS PRETTY STUPID AS WELL,” he forced a laugh.
“Yeah, but he means well.”  You gave him your dazzling smile.  Even slightly out of it, you were breathtaking.  “Hey, where are the other guys anyway?  Are you here by yourself?”
“WELL, YES.  I WAS IN THE NEIGHBORHOOD WHEN I RAN INTO YOU.”  An idea suddenly struck him.  “WHY, WOULD YOU LIKE TO GO BACK TO THE HOUSE WITH ME?”
“You bet your ass I do!  Your place is always soooooo fun!” you gushed.
“PERFECT.  COME ON THEN, DEAR.”  He held out his hand.  You eagerly took it, and Lucky strolled around a corner with you, shortcutting you back to the skeletons’ home.  This time, Lucky hoped, he could convince you to stay.
The two of you reappeared inside his home, and you were almost immediately noticed by the others.  “darlin’!” Hound gasped.  “what are ya doin’ here?”
“Lucky invited me!” you explained cheerfully.  You half stumbled to the couch and inserted yourself in between Hound and Butch, who were watching some old show together.  Lucky’s face contorted into a hateful glare.  Thankfully, you were too busy trying to figure out how your legs worked.  “I just broke up with my boyfriend…”
Butch’s eyes lit up, and Hound looked over at Lucky in surprise.  He raised an eyebrow, silently asking the obvious question.  Lucky just shook his head.  He didn’t have anything to do with it.  You did that yourself.  
“sorry to hear that, doll,” Butch said, voice not sounding sorry at all.  “that mean you’re back on the market?~”  As he spoke, he playfully trailed his hand up your inner thigh.  You smacked it away, laughing.
“Not right now, I want to watch this with you guys!”  You pointed at the show.  Lucky didn’t recognize the program, but it seemed to feature several old women sassing each other.
Butch’s face fell, but he relented.  All the better for him, Lucky thought.  If Butch got to touch you before Lucky did, he would have to cut off Butch’s hand.
“DO YOU WANT TO STAY FOR DINNER?” Lucky asked.  “I THINK NOIR IS IN CHARGE TODAY.”
Your stomach growled, and you nodded eagerly.  “Yes please!  I’m starving!”
“EXCELLENT!  I BELIEVE IT WILL BE READY SOON.”
You nodded, quickly arranging yourself so that your head was on Hound’s lap and your legs draped across Butch’s.  Both of them seemed thrilled by this unusually cuddly version of you.  Lucky tried to stop himself from seething in jealousy.  Sadly, there was no room for him to sit now, so he forced himself to not shove Butch out of the way and take his place.  It’s okay, once you were his, he would be in that spot.
Butch gave Lucky a shit eating grin as he started running his claws up and down your soft legs.  Not as suggestive as before, just relishing in the feel of your skin.  Once again, it took all of Lucky’s self control to not snap right there.
“I’M GOING TO BE UPSTAIRS UNTIL DINNER,” Lucky half growled.  He strode quickly out of the room.  As he rounded the corner to the stairs, he almost ran into someone for the second time today.
“woah, bro, where are you going in such a hurry?”  Oh thank the stars, it was Slim.  “you okay?  you seem ticked off.”
“YES, I…”  He looked behind him.  “Actually, Let’s Talk In Private.”
Slim nodded, and Lucky led him back to his room.  Slim sighed at the state of Lucky’s room.  It was messy as usual, but Lucky could find everything.  Just because nobody else understood his system doesn’t mean it’s not organized!  “i don’t know how you live like this.”
“HUSH, THAT’S NOT IMPORTANT!  WHAT IS IMPORTANT IS THAT…”  Lucky paused for dramatic effect.  “Our Human Is Newly Single.”
Slim’s eyes widened.  “holy shit.”
“YES.  THEY’RE STAYING FOR DINNER, BUT THE BEST PART IS THAT THEY ARE HIGH.  THIS MEANS THAT THEY ARE MUCH MORE SUSCEPTIBLE.”
“we can finally get ‘em to move in,” Slim gasped.
“YES.  DURING DINNER, WE NEED TO TRY OUR BEST TO GET THEM TO STAY.  IF THAT FAILS, I HAVE THIS.”  He pulled the blue vial out of his pocket.  “I GOT THIS FROM THIS WORLD’S ALPHYS.  IF THEY’RE NOT GOING FOR IT, I’LL SLIP THIS INTO THEIR FOOD, AND THEY’LL BE OUT LIKE A LIGHT.  THEN, WE CAN TRY AGAIN IN THE MORNING.  YOU CAN EVEN GET THEM HIGH AGAIN TO HELP CONVINCE THEM!”
“i dunno how i feel about that,” Slim muttered.  “i mean, i don’t want to use weed to make them love us.  that feels shitty.”
“THEY ALREADY LOVE US,” Lucky pointed out.  “THEY JUST NEED WEED TO HELP THEM REALIZE IT!”
“still feels wrong…”
“IT’S ONLY A LAST RESORT,” Lucky pointed out.  “IF ALL GOES WELL, WE DON’T NEED TO USE MY PLAN.”  He gave his brother a joking smile.  “PLUS, YOUR IDEAS HAD WAY MORE MURDER THAN MY PLANS.”
Slim rolled his eyes, unable to keep the smile off his face.  “yeah, yeah.  i’m not actually hurting them though, just their shitty boyfriend.  or, ex-boyfriend.”  His smile grew.  “this might actually work.”
“THANK YOU!”
“at least it’s better than sans’s plan.”
“THE BOX ON THE STICK?”
“nyeh heh heh, yeah!  this isn’t fuckin’ looney tunes,” Slim laughed.
The two of them left Lucky’s room, feeling hopeful about their chances with you.  After all, they could  take care of you much better than your ex-boyfriend could.
--------------------------------
Within an hour, all nine of you were around the dinner table.  Noir had cooked some curry, and it actually looked pretty good.  Some of the meat was a bit scorched, but overall, it was much better than when he had first come to this universe.  Lucky couldn’t keep his eyes off you as you practically inhaled your food.  You really were hungry.  He had heard of the munchies before, but it seemed you had it to the extreme.  Papyrus piled some more food onto your plate, and you smiled at him gratefully.
After a few minutes of eating, Lucky finally spoke up.  “SO Y/N,” he said as casually as he could muster.  “I’M SORRY ABOUT YOUR BREAKUP.”
Immediately, the table went silent.  They all turned to you, identical expressions of shock and excitement on their faces.  Lucky was grateful that you were both oblivious and high so you didn’t suspect anything.
“Yeah,” you mumbled between forkfuls of rice.  “I broke up with him.”  You were frowning, but quickly replaced it with a smile.  “He was kind of a jerk.”
“REALLY?” Papyrus asked gently.  “HE SEEMED SO….NICE.”
“He was…at first.  Then he started just…I dunno.”  You sighed.  “I’d ask him to do things, not even hard things, but he wouldn’t.  Sometimes it was like I wasn’t even there.”  You picked at your plate, appetite seemingly gone.  “He’d tell me that he loved me, but he never showed it.  Then when I got frustrated at him he’d act like I was the problem, you know?  I kept trying to understand, but it just got to be too much.”  You seemed to realize you had been talking for a while and shoved some more food into your mouth.  “So yeah, dropped his dead weight!”  You laughed.  “I deserve someone who treats me right!”
“you sure do, darlin’,” Hound smiled.  While you were facing Hound you didn’t notice Sans and Papyrus high fiving under the table.  “you deserve someone who treats ya like royalty.”
“Ha!  You guys are so nice you make me feel like royalty!” you laughed.
Now was his chance.  Lucky spoke up again.  “YES!  WE COULD TREAT YOU LIKE THIS EVERY DAY!” he grinned, pretending to be joking.
“Pfft, come on, I can’t come over to your place every day!” you laughed.  “You’d get sick of me!”
“we’d never get sick of ya, honey,” Slim interjected.  He gave a small smile.  “you could come over every day…or even just stay here.”
Finally, it seemed to click in the rest of the skeletons.  “YES!  YOU COULD STAY HERE,” Noir said, leaning forward.  “I COULD USE SOMEONE WHO APPRECIATES MY CULINARY MASTERPIECES!”
“it’d be great to always have ya around, starlight,” Sans smiled.  “we’re always so much happier when you’re here.”
You blushed.  “Oh come on, there’s no way-”
Scar reached across the table and put his hand over yours.  “I KNOW I DON’T ALWAYS SAY HOW I FEEL, BUT I WOULD BE OVERJOYED IF YOU LIVED WITH US,” he said bluntly.  “DON’T TRY TO ARGUE WITH ME.  YOU ARE A JOY TO HAVE HERE.”
That really seemed to get you, and you covered your face with your hands.  “I-I mean…it’s so sudden, I can’t just pick up and move.”
“WHY?” Lucky asked.
“...I dunno,” you admitted.  “I guess it would be nice to be around you guys…and have a change of scenery…and be around people who actually listen to me…”  It seemed like you were doing the job of convincing you better than the skeletons were.  “Fuck it, why not.”
“YOU MEAN IT?” Lucky asked.  “YOU’LL LIVE WITH US?”
“Sure!”
Immediately, all of the skeletons erupted into cheers.  You seemed shocked by the reception.  “Jeez, I didn’t know you all liked me so much!”
Lucky laughed silently to himself.  Sweet thing, you had no idea.  “OF COURSE WE DO!  YOU’RE OUR FRIEND, AFTER ALL,” he said.
Later that evening, you, Slim, and Lucky ended up on the couch together watching a movie.  You had agreed to stay the night as a sort of “trial run.”  You had fallen asleep much faster than either of them had expected, and your head lolled onto Lucky’s shoulder.  You were pressed in between the two skeletons, and your body heat was heavenly.
“i can’t believe they said yes,” Slim whispered.  He carded his phalanges through your hair.  “i really thought it’d take more convincing.”
“Me Too,” Lucky admitted.  “I’m Glad It Didn’t Come To That, Though.”
“yeah.”  Slim smiled.  “wish we’d have known.  could’ve gotten them high way earlier than this.”
“I Thought You Didn’t Want To Use Weed To Convince Them,” he said teasingly.
“yeah, well, ya can’t argue with the results,” Slim chuckled.  He gently tucked some hair behind your ear.  “i mean, we got ‘em here with us.”
“We Certainly Do.”  Lucky looked down at you.  You looked so peaceful, so relaxed.  He was right, no pictures could ever compare to the real you.  And now, he’d have unfiltered access, whenever he wanted.
He had dreamed of having you all to himself, but…he had to admit that you, him, and his brother made a pretty great family.  If he had to deal with the other skeletons for now, he could live with that.  You would soon realize that he and his brother were the only ones for you.
Until then, this was pretty damn perfect.
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