#no worries i hit them up when i realized this

[box-milk]

Since when

Pairings ~ Leah Williamson x reader

Genre ~ smut

Warnings ~ fingering, strap on, sex in the kitchen, short and ridiculously bad

You took pride in being a living canvas. Tattoos litter all over your body adorned in masterful shapes and sizes of dark ink. Most pieces held significant meaning, while others were just you being reckless with your finances. Nevertheless, they were your way of expression, and you wore it with pride.

The one who admired the ink more than you did was your girlfriend, Leah. She never missed an opportunity to gently run her fingertips across your skin, tracing them over lightly. You hoped that she'd appreciate the new addition that travelled down your spine.

°•°•°•°°•°•°°

You failed to hear your girlfriend let herself in to your shared home with her key too emersed in the food you were preparing in just the shorts, allowing the tattoo on your back to breathe.

Leah quickly found you by the stove humming lightly and opted to try and scare you out of your little world but froze when she's close enough to see your exposed back, mesmerised by the ink emblazoned dark ink running a long what use to be your vacant back.

"Baby?." Leah breathed out, lust not lost in her voice. You turn in surprise, disregarding her tone as you flew into her arms. Your girlfriend stumbles a bit but held you up by your thighs in favour of avoiding the clearly fresh design on your back.

"I missed you, leah." You tone dripping in mischief when you notice the look in your girlfriend's eyes. Your words fall on deaf ears as your girlfriend turns your body so your back is towards her once you're on your feet again, her eyes taking every inch of the new ink in with furrowed brows.

"When did you get this?". The tone is neutral, and you're a bit worried that she might not like so nervously you face her again before telling her you got it the day after she had left causing her to hum lightly deep in thought.

"Did you not like it?" Leah is quick to calm your worry by pulling you into a rough and passionate kiss. Hands trailing until they stop at your waist squeezing gently before letting go of your lips, kissing up your neck until you can feel her breath hitting your ear when she speaks.

"I love it, baby, and what I would love even more is for you to turn that stove off and turn around so i can take you on this counter cause what I'm hungry for ain't it that pot."

Your eyes widened slightly, but you quickly moved to turn the stove off your fingers don't even make it off the nob before your back is arched ass pressing into Leah's crouch where you could feel she was packing.

You looked at her the best you could with a rasied eyebrow leah smirked lightly before the hand around your waist dipped into your shorts middle finger playing gently with your clit.

"Tattoo or not baby, I had plans for you the minute I step of that plane this.." You feel her nimble fingers drag gently along to Tattoo, not touching it knowing it's still fresh. "This just moved the plans further"

A stray moan filled the apartment when you felt two of your girlfriend's fingers moving in you. Her pace is fast but steady, and you soon feel yourself about to fall over the edge. Your girlfriend realizes this and quickly stops her administrations before pulling out completely.

Before you can complain, your upper body is leaned onto the counter, the coldness on your exposed breasts makes you shiver lightly and attempt to stand but leah gently holds you down by the back of the head before slipping into you with the strap she was wearing.

Again, your beautiful moans grace her ear once she bottoms out in you, giving you time to adjust as toy she was wearing was much longer and girthy than normal.

You get used to the stretch and the feeling of the fake veins grazing your walls before nodding lightly for the blonde to move.

She starts off with slow and deep strokes and then eventually picks up the pace. Another lawd moan rips through you when the dildo eats that spongy spot. leah aimed to make sure she hits that spot continuously until till you're almost screaming into the ceramic counter, moaning subtly herself as the new angle has the strap rubbing her own clit.

Leah leans over you slightly to thrust deeper while your legs shake violently until you both cum, slowing her movement so you both can come down from your highs before gently pulling out of you.

"You ok?" You nod lightly, still coming down from the post orgasm.

The blonde took your sweaty body in a bride carry position before taking you to your shared bedroom to clean up and settle for the night.

°•°•°°

#woso imagine #woso community #woso x reader #woso fanfics #leah williamson x you #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson #leah williamson smut

[aouiaa]

Gymrat! Abby hcs

Imagining Gymrat! Abby who wakes up at six in the morning, just to shower and go to the gym.

Imagining Gymrat! Abby who’s loud getting ready in the morning even when she tries so hard to not be.

With a groan, you begin to stirr in bed from the blender being turnt on.

You already know who it is—Abby and her little fucking protein shakes.

Imaging Gymrat! Abby whose protein shake recipes actually hit.

You couldn’t sleep, even after the blender was long turnt off, and the fact you closed your eyes to desperately fall back to sleep. But you accepted failure as the outcome and get out of bed.

Trudging out the bedroom and into the kitchen with a frown on your face. You’re met with smiling Abby as she just finishes downing her drink.

Her hair is in much better shape than yours. In her infamous braid, work out clothes, and when she sees you, her smile morphes into an “o” shape, “Sorry, did I wake you?”

You roll your eyes at the obvious question and waddle past her grumbling something about…protein shakes?

Imaging Gymrat! Abby who makes you try her protein shakes and waits like this. And who’s visibly happy when you hum in approval. And who’s worried when you don’t, always asking, “What does it need?”

Imagining Gymrat! Abby who does everything in her power to be quiet. Even once tried looking up ways to sound proof the room, but realized how expensive it was. Should’ve seen the big frown on her face staring down at her phone. Poor girl… :(

Imagining Gymrat! Abby who has two alarms one five minutes before her actual alarm.

And why would Gymrat! Abby has this second secretive alarm? It’s to have those five minutes to cuddle you.

You remember the first time it happened. You jolt awake to the sound of her alarm going off to which she quickly turnt off and turn on her side, wrapping her beefy arms around you, pulling you to her chest.

A groan escapes your lips to which Abby presses light kisses to your neck, “I know, sorry, bae.” she whisper in your ear. And it still shocks Abby to this day that you haven’t caught on. Maybe because you’re just a big sleepyhead. Her words…

Imaging Gymrat! Abby who has multiple names for you when she does wake you up by accident.

“Hey, sleeping beauty.”

“Hey, beautiful.”

“Hey, sunshine.”

All with a big stupid smile on her face.

Imagining Gymrat! Abby who brings you flowers time to time.

“Awe, baby. Thank you.”

“Of course, anything for my girl.”

“Wait…” you trail off, and stop sniffing the flowers. “Orchids? Wait, is this to make up for waking me up today?”

“Uhm, what? No? I can’t get my girl some flowers?” she says nervously, scratching the back of her head.

Gymrat! Abby who mostly did buy them to make up for waking you up, but also brought them for the beautifulest girl in the world.

Imagining Gymrat! Abby who doesn’t let you come near her when she’s back from the gym, and who is very very dramatic about it.

You’re sitting on the couch, scrolling through your phone when the front door opens to reveal a very sweaty Abby. Instinctually, you get up and greet her with a kiss and hug or at least try to.

You’re not met with requited love instead a squeal. You open your eyes and laugh at the sound, to see abby moving back, dropping her gym bag.

“No touching or…kissing.” she says “kissing” in a disappointed tone, “Until I’ve showered!”

You roll your eyes at the reprimand, “Oh cmon, I’ve smelt you. You don’t even stink…that bad.” You attempt walk to toward her again, but she skips back—almost bumping into your favorite vase—with another squeal, “Y/n! I’m being serious!”

“And I am too!”

In the end, she practically ran into the bathroom, leaving you in the hallway with a pout which she later kissed away after her shower of course.

Imagining Gymrat! Abby who actually invites you to the gym with her, but you can’t even workout. Instead watch the work out.

(See what I did there?)

You watch her do bench presses, and with every lift comes a grunt with it.

You watch from the sidelines—basically being her water girl at this point—as she finishes her reps.

“Thanks bae.” she says, out of breath as she grabs the water from your hand.

You don’t even respond back, just with a stupid giddy smile on your face as you stare down at her, wondering how are you supposed to work out when she’s here?

Imagining Gymrat! Abby who’s basically your personal trainer when you do work out. Cheering you on and helping you only when necessary.

Imagining Gymrat! Abby who secretly hopes you start coming to the gym with her more often. She always enjoys the company especially from you.

Imagining Gymrat! Abby being completely different towards you and her friends at the gym. With you, she’s so calm and sweet. But with her friends she’s so energetic and always challenging her friend Manny to some pull-up contest to prove something about being stronger?

Imagining Gymrat! Abby who’s a big baby when she has her resting days, always wanting cuddles and massages.

Imagining Gymrat! Abby who whines and holds you down when you try to get up.

“Abby! I neee to pee!”

“Nooo, five more minutes.” she groans before stuffing her face into your chest.

“Fine, five more minutes.”

Imagining Gymrat! Abby who calls out for you when she does finally let you pee. You constantly have to say, “I’m coming!” or “One second!” like a mother reassuring their wailing offspring that they’re coming with their bottle.

Imaging Gymrat! Abby who’s fyp whether on instagram or tiktok is filled with gym videos, or tips on new proteins recipes.

Imagining Gymrat! Abby who’s a big foodie!

Imagining Gymrat! Abby who was full on laughing when on Christmas when she got a blender with a protective sound proof shield on it.

“Holy shit, bae. You really got me one!” she says in between laughter while holding the blender in hand.

You can barely hold in your laughter as you nod, “Yup, now you can’t wake me up.”

“Awee.” She says, sounding bummed out.

Gymrat! Abby who does love the gym, but loves her girlfriend more.

How you can help Palestine, Why you shouldn’t support tlou/ buy the remastered, Educate yourself, #FREEPALESTINE.

a/n: Onward to Dina hcs!

Perm taglist: @elliesprettygirl, @dyk3ang3l, @ellies2fingers, @r3starttt, @slut4mascss, @k1ssesworld @marsworlddd, @bready101

#𝐘ᱹ writes ✐ᝰ #Gymrat! Abby #abby anderson hcs #abby headcanons #abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x yn #abby anderson x you #abby anderson x f!reader #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson fluff #abby anderson fanfic #abby fanfiction #abby anderson imagine #abby anderson tlou #abby tlou #abby anderson tlou2 #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fluff #the last of us angst #the last of us x you #the last of us x y/n #the last of us x reader #tlou #tlou2 #the last of us #the last of us part 2 #abby the last of us #lesbian #wlw

[siredtosturniolos]

Wild Thots

Paring: Matt Sturniolo x Reader

Summary: You’ve only been recently dating Matt, and you can’t help but rewatch one of his most famous TikToks, and when Matt notices the same sound on repeat he can’t help but get a little curious as to what you’re up to. 

Warnings: None! (first pov)

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

So don't you worry 'bout them bitches I don't entertain them

Matt’s singing along to the lyrics in a blue shirt, headset over his ears. I bite my lip as my eyes glance around my screen, the TikTok audio repeating as it continues to play. 

They only want me 'cause I'm famous

The way he subtly crosses his arms to show off his tattoos. His sexy little half smirk as he continues to sing along has my heart skipping a beat. He licks his lips making my thighs clench together, how the hell can this man be so fine? How the hell did I manage to bag him?

I'm A Boogie Wit Da Hoodie but just call me baby

The way he looks off camera and changes his facial expression has me biting my lip, I need to tell Matt to stream again. Matter of fact, I wanna hear him call me baby more, he just looks so pretty saying it. 

And I be rollin' with the gangstas

The way his mouth curls as he says gangstas and his head slightly shakes, does me in. I must’ve been too lost in my trance because when I lock my phone and take a deep breath, I see Matt leaning against his door frame, that same sexy smirk on his face. My cheeks flush as I realize I had been caught, and quickly scramble to hide underneath his silk sheets. 

“You don’t get to hide from me.” He laughs as he shuts the door behind him, before slowly walking towards the bed. 

I let out a huff, “Leave me here to die in embarrassment.” I jokingly plead, before the covers are suddenly yanked from my grasp and Matt is grinning down at me.

“You gotta see what I filmed while I was at the warehouse.” He spoke, joining me on the bed. I shuffle to make more room for him, just to be dragged into his chest. 

He opens TikTok on his own, and hits the profile at the bottom of the screen, then goes to his drafts. He clicks on the most recent one, and I hear the infamous song begin to play. 

“Shut up.” I gasp, watching as he starts singing along. He’s got a slight stubble, his fluffy hair looks so grabable, and I nearly whine as he lifts the camera above him slightly and holds eye contact with it. 

“Get away from me!” I whine, shoving him away. “I can’t handle this.” I continue, flopping onto my back as Matt is laughing. I cover my red cheeks with my hands and attempt to roll away from him, but he quickly flips our position. Now I’m resting on top of him, my legs on either side of his hips. He slightly sits up to lean against his headboard, then takes my hands off my face. 

“I love that I have this effect on you.” He grins at me, placing kisses over my warm cheeks. I roll my eyes in response, settling for wrapping my hands around his neck, playing with his hair. 

“I can’t help it.” I tell him, making him pull back to look at me lovingly, “You’re just too hot to handle.” I tease him, making him groan. 

“That was corny.” He tells me, making me nod in agreement, “Doesn’t mean it isn’t true though.” I say with a slight laugh, as Matt pulls me in for a kiss.

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo #sturniolo’s #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo smut

[lilasamaaa]

In the crowd | Carlos Sainz x Reader

Genres | Angst, Hurt/Comfort.

Word count | 3.6K.

Warnings | Alcohol consumption, drugs, mentions of violence.

Summary | Reader's an engineer at Scuderia Ferrari in Maranello. While attending the season's launch party, her drink gets spiked.

Author's Note | Hi all! After the longest time, I've felt the need to come back here for some silly writing. New blog because the last one got cringe. Let me know what you think!

One might think that after two years within the scuderia, the season’s launch parties would make her less uneasy. That after two years of being apart of the engineering team, she would finally be used to attending public gatherings. That after two years, she’d be a natural at walking in the open, feeling the glances slide over her figure. She is stunningly beautiful. Perhaps that's her burden. She doesn't realize it. 

When she walks across the paddock or the stands, she knows people are staring at her. She avoids meeting their gazes, feeling embarrassed. She thinks there must be something wrong with her outfit, with her gait. Why else would they stare for so long?

In Maranello, there’s a bakery at the corner of the HQ building where she stops every morning. The cashier always offers her something extra. A coffee. An additional pastry. She finds him polite, very customer-oriented. One morning, as she was freeing her croissant from the paper napkin it was wrapped in, she’d discovered a phone number scrawled in pen ink, with a hastily drawn smiley face. She’d stared at the napkin, perplexed, seated at her desk. He must have made a mistake, she thinks. It must have been meant for the customer before her. The one with the beautiful blonde curls and the Chanel perfume. She didn't call, didn't send a message. She continued to visit the bakery. The cashier never mentioned the number, proving her theory.

Someone brushing past her brings her back to earth. The party is in full swing, and she’s just not. She spots her colleagues bustling around the buffet and the bar, engrossed in lively conversations. While some don't even notice her, others wave their hands, encouraging her to join them. She forces a smiles, returns the wave. Then she tightens her grip around her clutch. Anything to make her feel like she’s in control. To make her forget that the music’s too loud, the lights too vibrant, the air too hot. 

She doesn't remember ever feeling comfortable in her body. Years of growing up in an unstable family where love was doled out sparingly do that to a person. 

"Hey," comes a familiar voice. She turns her head, her big eyes catching sight of Livio’s, one of her colleagues. "Are you not dancing?" he continues, a drink in hand. His whiskey breath hits her straight on. She discreetly glances at her watch, noting that it's barely nine.

"I haven't had enough to drink for that," she replies, trying to dodge the invitation.

"Let's go get you something then," Livio responds, grabbing her arm and heading towards the bar.

She's noticed that men always do that with her. Not just her colleagues, but people she doesn't know either. She's too kind, too gentle; she never raises her voice. So they grab her by the hips, the arms, the wrists. Anything is an excuse to touch her. She hates it.

"What do you want?" Livio asks.

Nothing, really, but she can't say that.

"Something sweet, please. I don't like strong alcohol," she replies. Livio seems to ponder her question for a second, his mouth pursed.

"I have something for you to try, wait," he continues, signaling to the bartender. "You're going to like it, don't worry."

A few seconds later, a glass of Plymouth is placed in front of her, and she looks up at Livio. Does he think I've never tasted gin in my life? she wonders, puzzled. She would like to refuse the drink, ask for the cherry liqueur she discovered last time indeed. But already, Livio has grabbed her glass and hands it to her with a big smile. "Salute," he exclaims, downing his own glass in one gulp.

Cries and applause suddenly echo in the large reception hall, causing her to turn her head. It takes her a few minutes to understand the reason for this sudden commotion. Until she sees them, a few meters away.

Charles and Carlos.

Her eyes can't seem to tear away from the two pilots making their way through the crowd to a small stage where a microphone is set up. It's tradition : to kick off the season in style, the entire team eagerly awaits the drivers' speeches. Everyone wants to hear their words, their encouragements, their hopes and goals for the season.

A friend once asked her if she knew Charles and Carlos personally. She can't really say yes. That would be a lie. She's exchanged words with each of the athletes before, giving them information about the race, their car, and the expected weather. These exchanges have always been brief and cordial. Professional. Nothing more.

Even though... No, she thinks, lightly shaking her head. That was nothing. But still...

It had happened just before the race in Singapore, last year.

A friend from engineering school had moved there at the beginning of the year, and they had agreed to meet for dinner at a fancy restaurant in the city. It was an opportunity to reminisce about the years spent at Polytechnique, studying (a bit), suffering (a lot), and getting drunk (a whole lot).

She had chosen a long emerald green silk dress, slit up to mid-thigh. The perfect balance between classy and sexy. She had no intention of charming her companion - notoriously attracted to men, anyway - but this meal was the perfect excuse to leave her eternal Ferrari jumpsuits for something more feminine.

In the long corridor leading to the elevator, she'd suddenly felt on a catwalk, letting herself get caught up in the moment and rolling her hips perhaps a tad too exaggeratedly. The person emerging from the corner at the far end of the corridor surprised her, but not enough to disrupt her stride, her heels clicking against the floor.

She had recognized him immediately, of course.

Dressed in a simple fitted black polo and a pair of dark jeans, his eyes had not left hers throughout their crossing. When the two had finally reached the same level, she'd breathed out a small "Good evening, Carlos," suddenly insecure about everything. Her outfit. Her gait. The messy bun revealing her neck. The cleavage leaving no room for a bra and showing the beginning of her breasts.

He had passed her, nodding in acknowledgment, and each had continued on their way. She was certain... No, almost certain, that she had dreamt the words that had followed.

"That's one lucky guy."

Yes, she was almost certain she had dreamt it. Watching the Spaniard in the distance take hold of the microphone and tap it gently to check the connections, she became increasingly convinced. There was no chance that this man, chiseled from marble, could have noticed her. Desired her.

His accent echoes throughout the room, and she instinctively closes her eyes, as if bathed in the gentle sun of Madrid. She's not listening - not really - only catching words here and there. "Truly an honor," "Very impressed by your efforts," "Promising changes." But her mind is elsewhere, between Maranello and Singapore, tethered to the memory that makes her lower abdomen tingle in the sweetest of ways.

"And now, it's time to celebrate!" Carlos says as the room erupts with joy and anticipation.

"Earth to you?" comes a much less pleasant voice than the one that has just quieted down.

"I'm sorry, what?" she says, returning her attention to Livio.

"Oh, wow, you've got to be kidding me. Is it just me, or are you completely absorbed by this guy?" Livio replies, his mouth twisted in a grimace.

"Who?" she asks, genuinely confused.

"Sainz. You were hanging on his every word."

"I just think it's nice that they're giving an encouraging speech. Both of them," she explains, avoiding the Italian's gaze.

"Yeah, okay. Should we get another drink?" he asks, taking hold of her arm again.

She wants to protest. She can still taste the gin at the back of her mouth. It can't have been more than twenty minutes since her first drink. But Livio is already almost dragging her behind him, clearly determined not to let her escape tonight. And once again, that hand locks around her arm. Firm. Not open to discussion. She feels something almost territorial in the gesture, something that strongly displeases her, so she vows to mention it to Livio. Someday. Not tonight.

This time, he doesn't even pretend to care about what she wants to drink, ordering two whiskies straight away. She hates it. The taste, the look, what this alcohol does to her mind and body. But Livio has already slipped two bills to the bartender, and a moment later, the amber liqueur lands in her right hand.

While her drinking companion is already tilting his head back, clearly unaware that this type of alcohol is to be savored and not downed in one go, she observes the glass, intrigued by the few bubbles that are forming on the surface. I had no idea whiskey could do that, she thinks before bringing the liquid to her lips.

A few minutes later, she's managed to shake off Livio by claiming she needed to use the restroom. She crosses paths with Carlos walking in the other direction, maybe three people ahead of her, but he doesn't notice her.

In front of the restroom mirror, touching up her lipstick, her focus changes as she sees a drop of sweat trickle down her temple and slide slowly onto her cheek. I'm rather cold, though, she thinks, almost suppressing a shiver. Her head suddenly feels very light. She blames the alcohol. Putting her lipstick back in her clutch and tucking a strand of hair that threatened to escape from her bun, she pushes the restroom door open again, bracing herself to face the social world once more.

Passing by the buffet, a wave of nausea washes over her, forcing her to stop for a few seconds, leaning against the table and closing her eyes.

"I thought it was you," echoes the sunny accent in her ears. With her eyes still closed, she wishes their new encounter, one that she'd admit she's dreamed about, had happened differently. At a better time. A time when she wasn't battling a fierce urge to throw up.

"Are you okay?" Carlos inquires, raising his hand as if to support her but stopping halfway.

She takes a few seconds to push the unpleasant sensations from her body as far away as possible before lifting her head, opening her eyes, and being rewarded with the exquisite sight of his luscious hair and amber eyes.

"Hi," she manages to utter in a faint voice. "Great speech," she continues, still leaning against the table.

"You look pale," the driver responds, looking concerned.

The words escape her lips before they even reach her brain. She regrets them instantly. Something inside her just give way, like a dam.

"Sorry. I must have looked better in Singapore," she says.

Carlos widens his eyes, surprised, before letting out an awkward laugh.

"Sorry for staring at you like that, that night. You were... Well, you are...," he continues, seeming to search for his words.

She would so love to hear the rest, to know what he was going to say. But dizziness seizes her, and she feels herself tipping against the table. Well, almost, because suddenly, an arm wraps around her waist, pressing her against a chest that, yes, she's also dreamed about several times. But not like this. Not in this state.

"Hey," Carlos says, his voice tinged with worry.

"I'm so sorry, this never happens to me. I must have had one drink too many, I—"

"I saw you at the bar not even ten minutes ago," the Spaniard continues. "No alcohol hits you that fast. Not even shots."

"I'm fine," she says, and the pilot understands that she's saying it not only to reassure him but herself as well. And, as if the words had commanded it, the fog in her mind dissipates a bit. Enough for her to gently detach herself from the pilot, finding her balance on her own two feet again. She'd like to take advantage of this newfound clarity to keep the Spaniard close to her. Him, that she never crosses paths with, whom she never speaks to, and yet who appeals to her so much.

But Charles arrives. He smiles at her, asks if she's okay, if she's enjoying the evening, and oh, "I'll borrow him for a moment, I'm so sorry, sponsors, you know," and oh, once again, she finds herself alone at the buffet, watching the two men walk away, Carlos still watching her as he reluctantly retreats.

"I was beginning to think he'd never leave," Livio says, leaning against the buffet, his hip brushing against hers.

She wants to scream. Oh, how badly she wants to.

Sensing that she's not going to respond, the Italian tries his luck again.

"Should we dance? You seem intoxicated enough, now."

She doesn't even have time to respond before her colleagues guides her onto the dance floor, eagerly pressing his body against hers. His breath, previously tinged with whiskey, now betrays hints of tequila. The guy never has enough, she thinks, twirling reluctantly.

And there it goes again. The nausea, the queasiness. Spinning her around like a puppet doesn't help, she tells herself. She comes to a halt, cutting off Livio's momentum, causing some dancing couples to narrowly avoid colliding with them. Feeling vulnerable, she tries to get away, to seek refuge elsewhere. But her wrist is once again trapped.

"You don't look well. Come on, let's get you some fresh air," Livio says, heading towards one of the large glass doors.

She's often been described as naive by her loved ones. She believes that the whole world means well towards her, never suspects anyone of ill intentions. She would even say about herself that she has no instincts, let alone survival instincts. No sense of danger. Yet, perhaps for the first time in her life, something deep inside her is screaming not to follow the man. Her signals are on alert. Everything is flashing red in her mind. For her, it's a first. So, without thinking, without worrying about offending her colleague, she acts.

"I don't need to go outside," she says, trying to free herself from his grasp. She's sweating. She feels the unpleasant sensation of a thin layer of dampness creeping over her neck, her back, her hands.

Her feeble resistance is no match for Livio's strength, as he pulls her outside despite her protests. The music is too loud for anyone to hear their altercation. Divided between the buffet, the bar, and the dance floor, no one pays attention to this mismatched couple, to the determined man dragging a struggling woman behind him.

The door closes heavily behind them, stifling the sounds of the party, captured on the other side. It's cold outside, she feels it because her whole body shivers. But she, who was cold just a short while ago, feels like she's boiling. She raises her hand to her forehead, wiping away another bead of sweat that's formed between her eyebrows. What's happening to me? she thinks internally, troubled. Alcohol has never put her in such a state before.

"I'm so glad I ran into you tonight," Livio begins, either oblivious or indifferent to the young woman's condition.

She doesn't respond, feeling her head spinning, leaning against the wall behind her, gasping to try to catch her breath. Trying to control the burning heat that's engulfing her body.

"You look really beautiful tonight. Quite a change from the work overalls, huh!" the man continues.

She's not exactly sure at what moment he slipped between her legs, facing her, just a few centimeters from her face. But he's there, too close, forcing her to turn her head to the side to avoid his gaze - and his alcohol-laden breath.

"I said, you look really beautiful tonight," Livio says. "Are you not going to say anything?"

"What do you expect me to say to that?" she says, jaw clenched.

"Do you find me attractive?" the man asks, meeting her gaze.

The warning signals reappear along with the nausea. She barely has time to push the man away and lean to the side before emptying her stomach inches away from his feet. The naivety stops there. The pieces of the puzzle fall into place, realization hitting her painfully.

"What did you do to me?" she asks, her knees giving way under her weight, sending her crashing to the ground. He sneers, rolling his eyes, as she crawls a few meters, trying to put some distance between them. She's now sitting on the ground, her back to the wall.

"What? What are you talking about?" the Italian replies, offended.

"Did you put something in my drink?" she asks again.

"Come on, now. I've been helping you ever since you said you weren't feeling well. What kind of monster do you think I am?"

For a moment, her colleague's wounded look makes her seriously doubt herself. Maybe it really is just the alcohol, she thinks, trying to calm her racing mind. After all, why would someone deliberately choose to harm her? Why jump to that conclusion? Livio has always been charming. A bit clingy, but charming.

"I'm sorry for implying that. I'm gonna head back inside," she says, trying to stand up.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Livio answers, pushing her back down.

"What? why?" she asks, surprised.

"It wouldn't be very wise to parade in front of your colleagues and superiors in such a poor state," the Italian begins, his tone almost mocking. "It really doesn't give a good impression of you. It's not very professional."

"I haven't done anything, just had a few drinks," she responds, annoyed. "There's nothing wrong with that."

"You're so wasted you can't even stand. At a work event. Do you want to get fired or something?"

She opens her mouth to speak, to defend herself, but no words come out. She can't seem to figure out if Livio is with her or against her anymore. His words are harsh, aggressive, but deep down, the engineer probably isn't wrong. She struggled to secure a position here, at Ferrari. Even though she believes herself to be fairly skilled at her job and puts in long hours, there are hundreds of others doing the same work as her every day. And hundreds more who could replace her if the need arose.

She's not indispensable. She's not even that good at speaking Italian, having always had more ease in English or in French, even though she spends the majority of her evenings reading books in the language. She's just a tiny cog in the machine. She thinks about Carlos, too. What would he think, seeing me stumbling in the middle of the dance floor like a mad woman?

"Let me drive you home," Livio says, extending his hand. "Spare you the embarrassment."

She hadn't realized how tired she was. The offer is rather tempting. Getting back to her apartment, her cat, her bed. Above all, escaping the crowd. Forgetting this evening. Forgetting whatever she thought there was with Carlos, too, while she's at it. As a stronger wave of sleep washes over her, she temporarily closes her eyes.

"Come on," he says. "Let's get you in the car."

After her brain, her legs refuse to cooperate too. Her body barricades itself, trying to keep her firmly sheltered. Losing patience, Livio hoists her up, throwing her over his shoulder. She wants to protest against the position she finds herself in. That's so unladylike. Her last few connected neurons grapple over strange thoughts. I hope nobody sees my underwear, she thinks before her brain disconnects once again.

She's so far gone, yet the next words sound crystal-clear in her ears.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going?"

Sounds like Carlos, she thinks, delirious.

"What does it look like to you? I'm bringing her home. She's wasted," she hears, and she thinks it might be Livio, because she feels his body shaking with each words.

"There's no way I'm letting you leave with her. Put her down."

"Yeah? So you can have your way with her?"

"No, so I can punch you in the fucking face," the accent-thick voice shouts.

She must have passed out for good because she doesn't remember anything else. When she wakes up next, which feels like an eternity later, she's sitting against a wall, this time indoors, wrapped in a golden emergency blanket. There's no more music. Opening one eye, then the next, she's met with Carlos' brown ones. She tries to speak but her mouth feels dry. The Spaniard hands her a glass of water, helping her bring it to her lips.

"I somehow managed to look even worse," she jokes, reminiscing their earlier encounter.

"The paramedics have just arrived. They're going to take you to the hospital for a check-up," he says and she nods.

"Thank you, Carlos," she replies.

"I haven't done the half of what I would have wanted," he says, regret filling his voice.

"What do you mean?"

"This has to be the worst timing ever, but I... I actually wanted to ask you out, before Charles interrupted us and before, well... this," he says, gesturing around them.

He doesn't see it, but hidden under the blanket, she pinches her arm. Hard. Just to make sure she won't wake up a second time. Seeing that nothing changes, she lets out a little laugh.

"If you wanted me to wear that silky green dress, I'm so sorry, but I ruined it in the washer."

"You can wear a garbage bag for all I care," Carlos replies, looking at her fondly. "You'll still stand out in the crowd."

#f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 x reader #formula 1 #f1 imagine #carlos sainz #charles leclerc #formula1 #f1 2024 #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you

[intimidating-fettuccine]

Hi! Can I request Masky with a gn! reader that is stronger than he expected? Like, maybe they’re training or even roughhousing and he expects them to fold easily, but next thing he knows he’s on the floor? 😂 I always find this kind of funny, but do you think you could also make it a little spicy? (Also, I did this literally exactly at 2 for me, it’s always difficult to remember where has what time frame y’know?)

I know you said Masky, but I did write for specifically Tim, because my Masky would not have enjoyed this situation.

Tim is a pretty hefty guy. He's decently tall, and he's been working on bodybuilding for years, so he's definitely not lacking in strength. That's why when the two of you started training together, he wasn't exactly worried about losing. He's confident in his abilities, and it's not that he thinks you're weak, but he wasn't really thinking that you'd be able to take him down easily. You've obviously got some power and strength to you too to be able to be one of Slender's employees, but Tim is one of the leaders for a reason because he's one of the strongest in the mansion and he knows how to lead and fight. 

At least, that's what he tells himself as he goes into your training session. You seem oddly relaxed as you stand across from him, and it sets Tim on edge a bit to see you so calm, but he shakes it off, thinking it must be his imagination. He knows you're strong, so he doesn't hold back when he starts launching attacks at you. While he's not intentionally trying to cause you severe harm, it's clear he's trying to test you and see just how much you can handle. Perhaps Tim should have realized that you'd be doing the same to him. You take his strikes efficiently, letting him think he's got the upper hand before you counter one of his hits particularly well. It catches him off guard, and makes him stumble back, but doesn't do too much overall, at least in his mind. Tim clears his throat nervously as he watches you roll your shoulders and crack your neck before you resume your fighting stance once more. He takes a deep breath and launches back to fight you again, but he shouldn't have been so careless. It doesn't take long this time before you've got the upper hand, having memorized all of his moves, and soon Tim is on his back staring up at the ceiling, a gasp shooting out of him as all his air leaves him.

You have him effectively pinned, even pressing your foot into his chest to hold him there, and Tim can only stare up at you in shock and awe as his heart races and thumps beneath your pressure. His face soon begins to flush red, even the tips of his ears staining with the blush taking over him. "What's the matter, cat got your tongue?" You smirk as you taunt him, and it causes him to grow even more flustered. He opens his mouth to respond to your taunt, but nothing comes out of his mouth as he stares up at you, clearly affected by the situation the two of you are in. When you smile at him, giggling at the situation as you go to help him up, he finds himself feeling vulnerable in a way he hasn't before, and he takes your hand tenderly as you pull him up. Level with you once more, he finds himself staring at you with mixed emotions, but one thing is for sure in his mind; you should do that again. The words slip past his mouth before he can stop them, and they catch you off guard, causing you to laugh again as they settle into your mind. You wrap your arms around his neck, pressing a kiss to his cheek as your body flushes against his. When you whisper into his ear that you'd be quite happy to his body trembles against yours, his hands moving to grip your hips before he can stop them. Tim tells himself he's going to have to train with you more frequently as he eagerly presses his lips against yours, his heart racing for another reason now.

#creepypasta #creepypasta headcanons #creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta semi-spicy #semi-spicy #tim wright semi-spicy #creepypasta x reader #tim wright #tim wright headcanon #tim wright headcanons #tim wright x reader #masky #masky headcanons #masky headcanon #masky x reader

[gojoidyll]

hihihi hruuu

Could you pretty please write something where megumi accidentally makes reader cry and then immediately feels bad abt it because I love megumi and I also love hurt/comfort

It's been awhile since I wrote anything for Fushiguro, so I hope I don't disappoint <3

Fushiguro x Reader, Hurt/Comfort

“No, I would never date them. They’re too annoying. Always so loud and clingy too. I would be exhausted just dealing with them.”

“Hey! Isn’t that a bit harsh? Even for you.”

Fushiguro merely rolled his eyes. What started as a meaningless conversation at a sleepover in your room quickly turned into gossiping. And, like any sleepover, love was in the air as Kugisaki and Itadori couldn’t help but to bring up the topic when you left to get more popcorn for the group.

“So, you’re telling me that you feel absolutely nothing for them?”

“Yeah, aren’t you two childhood friends?”

“They merely clung to me throughout school. Nothing more, nothing less.”

As for you? You were waiting behind the door, listening to everything. You didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but it was your room after all. How were you supposed to know that your childhood best friend, the exact same person you had a long-time crush on, was telling your other friends how annoying you are and that a relationship between you two will be nonexistent from now and long into the future.

You stood behind the door, frozen in shock, as Fushiguro's words hit you like a ton of bricks. The popcorn in your hands suddenly felt heavy, and your heart sank as you realized that your feelings for him were not reciprocated. Tears welled up in your eyes, but you quickly wiped them away, not wanting your friends to see you upset.

Taking a deep breath, you composed yourself and walked back into the room, trying to act as if you hadn't heard anything. But the atmosphere had changed, and Fushiguro's words lingered in the air, casting a shadow over the rest of the night.

As the evening wore on, you tried to act normal, laughing at jokes and joining in the conversations. But inside, you were hurting, trying to come to terms with the fact that Fushiguro saw you only as a clingy childhood friend, nothing more.

Eventually, the sleepover came to an end, and your friends left, leaving you alone in your room. You sat on your bed, staring at the ceiling, feeling a mix of sadness and anger. How could Fushiguro say those things about you? Didn't he know how much you cared about him?

But deep down, you knew that you couldn't force someone to feel a certain way about you. You had to accept that Fushiguro didn't see you in the same light that you saw him. It was a painful realization, but one that you knew you had to come to terms with.

As you lay in bed, thoughts swirling in your head, you made a decision. You wouldn't let Fushiguro's words define you. You would continue to be the kind, caring person that you were, regardless of how he saw you. And maybe, just maybe, someday he would see you in a different light. But until then, you would focus on loving yourself and moving forward, even if it meant letting go of your feelings for him.

Though, you did worry about what tomorrow would bring…

The next day weighed heavily on your mind as you tried to push away thoughts of Fushiguro's words. You couldn't shake the feeling of hurt and betrayal, even though you knew deep down that he had the right to his own feelings.

As you went about your day, you couldn't help but notice the looks from your friends. They seemed to sense that something was off, but you brushed off their concerns with a forced smile. You didn't want to burden them with your feelings, especially when it seemed like they were already tiptoeing around you.

During classes, you found it hard to concentrate, your mind wandering back to the sleepover and the conversation you overheard. (You were also surprised that no one seemed to bother you, not even Gojo-sensei.) You wondered if Fushiguro regretted his words or if he even realized how much they had hurt you. But you pushed those thoughts away, knowing that dwelling on them would only make you feel worse.

After school and a short mission, you decided to take a walk to clear your head. The cool breeze and the sound of birds chirping provided some solace, and you found yourself reflecting on your friendship with Fushiguro. Despite everything, you knew that your bond was strong, and you hoped that it would endure this rough patch.

As you walked, you made a decision. You would confront Fushiguro and tell him how his words had made you feel. You didn't expect him to reciprocate your feelings, but you wanted him to know the impact of his words. You needed closure, even if it meant facing more pain.

When you arrived at your room, you found Fushiguro waiting for you outside your door, a solemn expression on his face. He looked like he had been waiting for this moment, and you knew that it was time to have a difficult conversation.

You had been distant and out of it all day, and Fushiguro noticed. As you approached your dorm room, he called out to you, his voice tinged with concern. As you had got closer you found that you didn’t have the courage to face him yet despite hiding how you felt really well so far.

"Can we talk?"

You ultimately decided to face him, and the concern in his eyes softened your resolve to run away. You nodded, silently inviting him to speak. But you didn't dare open you door. You didn't want to let him in there again. Not yet at least. Whatever he had to say can be done in the hallway (you just hoped Kugisaki wouldn't walk by...).

"You've been acting strange all day. Is everything okay?"

At his words, you finally felt your resolve break as the tears immediately started falling. One second you were fine, but the next moment your eyes felt wet, and seeing you break out into tears caused his eyes to widen, “What-“

"I overheard what you said last night, Fushiguro. About me being annoying and clingy. It really hurt,” your voice sounded shaky as you tried to speak.

“I-“

“I know I can be a bit much sometimes, but I really thought you were my friend, and to think that I- I actually loved you too.”

Fushiguro's expression fell, realizing the impact of his words.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.”

“Then why did you say it.”

“I don’t like those two getting in my personal business, and, well, you already know what it’s like trying to get me to open up,” he smiled slightly, trying to make a joke as he nudged his foot with yours.

“Yeah, you’re an absolute ass sometimes.”

“Only sometimes.”

You frowned, but the tension between you had already started to dissipate, “you’re right, I meant all the time.”

Fushiguro squeezed your hand gently. "I'll try to be better. I value our friendship more than anything. Can you forgive me?"

You looked into his eyes, seeing the sincerity and regret there. Despite the hurt, you knew that Fushiguro was truly sorry. With a sigh, you nodded.

"I'll forgive you, Fushiguro. But please, don't ever say something like that again. It really hurt."

"I won't," Fushiguro promised. "I'll do whatever it takes to make it right."

As you stood there, holding hands with Fushiguro, you felt a weight lift off your shoulders. You knew that healing would take time, but you also knew that your friendship with Fushiguro was strong enough to withstand this rough patch.

Not to mention that you knew that your feelings for Fushiguro were still there and that even though he didn’t quite acknowledge the fact that you said that you loved him, you were thankful. You didn’t want to be rejected after you just made up with him after all.

And who knows…maybe Fushiguro feels the same.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #fushiguro x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #fushiguro megumi #fushiguro x you #fushiguro x y/n #megumi x you #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro #jjk megumi #jujutsu megumi #jujutsu kaisen megumi

[sommerregenjuniluft]

@jegulus-microfic april 27 - diplomacy - 1117 words

aka there’s a few unexpected babies in a shed and regulus is a master of persuasion

It starts with Harry.

He’s running around in the back garden as Regulus peeks outside to call him for dinner.

When Regulus calls him he comes bounding over the meadow, red cheeked and flushed and a little sweaty.

Regulus bends down to smack a kiss on his damp hair and presses a glass of water into his small hands.

Harry gulps half of it with vigor, breathing loudly and then puts it back down on the table with a thunk. “Uh- Paps.”

“Mhm?”

“Where’s Mochi?”

“Mochi?” Regulus hums, realizing he actually doesn’t know where their cat is, “I haven’t seen him in the house today.”

“Oh,” Harry makes, his brows drawing together.

Regulus’ chest tightens, “I’m sure he’ll be back by bedtime, pumpkin.”

The rest of the afternoon passes, the sun sets and Mochi still hasn’t shown.

Harry gets ready for bed worried but James makes up a bedtime story about adventure cats with supernatural powers and all’s well.

That is until it’s two days later and Mochi still hasn’t wound up yet.

Regulus gets actually concerned and quietly talks to James in bed at night about the possibility of Mochi having been hit by a car. James is optimistic though, gently stroking through his curls and kissing his forehead, reassuring Regulus that their cat will be back.

True to his fiancé’s word Mochi turns up just another day later. Safe and sound, no wounds or scratches and bonking his forehead against their legs like nothing was amiss.

Harry is ecstatic and Regulus sighs so heavy in relief he feels 10 pounds lighter—that is until Mochi keeps flitting back out into the garden, mewling loudly.

James and Harry go out into the yard to play on the trampoline, thinking their cat may just want some company out in the nice weather.

“I dunno, love,” James shakes his head, clambering down from the trampoline, “It sounds like something is bothering him. He keeps walking around, yelling at us.”

Regulus combs an errant strand of James’ hair back from his forehead, frowning slightly. He sighs, “It does seem like he wants something from us.”

Harry is still bouncing on the net, then he announces suddenly, “I think maybe he wants to show us something.”

James and Regulus exchange looks and then they help Harry put on his shoes again and start following behind a relentlessly meowing Mochi.

Their cat takes them out back towards the end line of their property to Monty’s old shed they don’t really use for anything.

Mochi squeezes right through a broken panel of wood inside, still meowing.

Regulus throws James a skeptical look but James just shrugs and rattles and yanks at the old door until it swings open.

That’s when Regulus hears it.

More meowing. Tiny, high mewling.

Baby kittens.

His eyes meet James in an instant as a small gasp elicits from Regulus’ throat, eyes widening in adoration and teeth digging in his lower lip, ridiculously excited.

James takes Harry up on his hip with a grin and nods Regulus to enter first.

With the help of the sunlight streaming in through the open door they find the little family in an instant.

The mom is a beautiful grey-ish tabby and there’s three little furballs attached to her stomach.

There’s one similar to Mochi with all black and white spots, another tiger striped one with an orangey undertone and then an entirely black one safe for one white spot around its ear that immediately has Regulus breaking out into coos.

Mochi runs around between Regulus’ legs all excited, screaming still, and he gently shushes their cat with head scratches. He bends down to say hello to the mom while James explains everything to Harry behind him.

It takes a few contemplative sniffs from mom before she takes a careful lick at Regulus’ finger. Mochi smells like them so Regulus is glad the mom realizes they’re family and not a threat.

Regulus beckons James and Harry over and pulls the latter between his spread knees, murmuring quietly, “These are Mochi’s babies, Harry, just like you are ours.”

Harry nods importantly, eyes fixated on the kittens.

“We have to introduce ourselves to the mom first though before we get to say Hello to the babies. Like this,” Regulus takes Harry’s hand in his and lets the female cat sniff him too.

Harry giggles when she licks him with her rough tongue and Regulus’ heart nearly bursts when she tilts her head into his little palm. James follows suit, stroking through Regulus’ curls with his other hand. It’s a marvelous moment shared between the three of them and Regulus desperately hopes that it’s going to stay a core memory in all their minds.

They run back to the house to get a pillowed basket and blankets for the mom and babies to transport back in. At the end of the day Regulus’ cheeks hurt from smiling so much.

Until James comes up behind him while brushing teeth, arms wrapped around his stomach and asks who they want to give two of the babies to.

Regulus thinks he must be clinically insane for the suggestion but he doesn’t say so just yet. He has to play his cards right here to get what he wants and what his little family clearly deserves despite whatever James may think for whatever obviously illogical reason.

So Regulus just shrugs and spits into the sink.

The next morning when Harry is already in kindergarden he grabs James on his way out to door to work.

He drapes himself all prettily against the door frame, purposly toying with the ring on James’ finger. “So,” he starts, “About the kittens.”

James already slips into a playfully skeptical expression, “What about them?”

Regulus clears his throat professionally, “After diplomatic discussions we found that there was no way for us not to keep them.”

“A-huh?”

Regulus huffs, “Yes.”

“Just between the two of you…” James prods, one brow raised.

“Yes.” Regulus’ expression is unwavering stone. He’s so standing his ground. Not budging. He’s a wall.

“All 3 of them?”

“They have names, to your information,” Regulus spits. Then adds in a more quiet voice, “Strawberry, Vanilla and Matcha.”

James only hums in return, but the corners of his lips are already curling with a badly concealed grin so Regulus knows they’ve as good as won.

“So,” he sucks his teeth, cocking his head and blinking up at his fiancé from under his lashes, “We’re gonna need a bigger car tree.”

James’ grin blooms full force and he rolls his eyes behind his glasses. Then he smacks Regulus’ ass so hard, Regulus makes a sound that sounds embarrassingly similar to the ones the kittens make.

#jegulus #hi im late with this >.< almost finished it then thought it was trash. finished it now and i like the ending so *shrugs* #enjoy<3 #jegulus microfic #james potter #regulus black #jegulus raising harry #starchaser #sunseeker #domestic jegulus #jegulus fluff #james potter x regulus black #regulus black x james potter #lune’s tiny fic

[omkookie]

. "I'll show you how much I love you"

⌈ ⚠️ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ⌉ Smut, drugging, Implied noncon at the end. short and rushed Yandere Reader fic

You’ve had your eyes on the first prince of Obsidian ever since he knocked on your door that one night, to ask you for directions. The man was gorgeous, and you’ve never felt someone give off an aura as seductively dark as his.

He was… something else.

FInding out his identity didn’t deter you from him, as your heart longed for the stranger– You never feared him. The more time you spent with him, the more infatuated you became with him, and being around him made your heart flutter. Gilbert was the perfect man, a bit of a problem maker sometimes... but so cute! He was everything you could possibly wish for.

He was so beautiful…

Every time he looked at you, He made your heart beat faster. How could a man steal your heart this fast? Your strong feelings quickly turn into an obsession, and then you were always with him. Someone tried approaching Gilbert? Well, would you look at that… You suddenly acted out aggressively and hurt the person “By accident”.

Sariel becomes afraid of your sudden change in behavior. He even confronts you about it, soon realizing that you might have gone mad because of how you were describing your feelings for Gilbert. Sariel looked taken aback when you snap at him and bluntly tell him to fuck off.

Gilbert is yours, he's perfect, he's yours.

All of the words leaving your mouth were crazy.

This can’t be the Belle Sariel picked…? right?

.

It doesn’t matter though, Whatever Sariel thinks or if he calls you obsessed.

You now have Gilbert cornered, and you couldn’t be happier. He stares at you cautiously as you slither up to him like a snake, and wrap him up in your firm embrace. His initial resolve to push you away is quickly thrown out of the window when you yank him closer to you and kiss him.

His fingers tremble as they make their way to your lower back, and your tongue enters his mouth to entwine with his.

By the time you pull away, you’ve turned Gilbert into a blushing mess with a string of saliva still connecting your lips.

You push him back against the wall, and he doesn’t resist you as you begin to strip his clothes off and throw them to the side.

Of course, that means that he loves you too… right? His lack of resistance sure does!

You peel his shirt off of him, and he shudders when the cold air hits his heated skin, “Wait.” He says weakly as he tries to push your hand away when you reach down for his trousers.

In his fucked up state, Gilbert still somehow manages to stay coherent and muster some courage to push you away, “What did you drug me with?” He asks sharply while coldly glaring straight at you. “Phencyclidine. Don’t worry about that, Gil.” You coo as you cup his cheek and press a kiss against it. He looks at you with a pained expression before murmuring, “Have you lost your mind? or are you really this bold? If you kill me now then Rhodolite will be wiped off the map.”

“Oh, I’m not doing this to kill you... or for rhodolite.” You tell him

“What?”

“I’m not going to kill you, silly. I’m doing this because I love you~ The drugs take some time to take full effect though.”

He looks dumbfounded, His beautiful crimson eye looking all around the room as he tries to make sense of the situation. “I love you Gil” You say as you press another chaste kiss against his cheek.

“I see…” He whispers underneath his breath as his eye closes. He looks doubtful, somewhat restless, but way less than you expected him to look.

“Lean back, Gil.” You suddenly push his shoulders down, and his back hits the cushion lying on the floor. At least you were thoughtful enough to put a pillow there… Still, this doesn’t sit right with him.

You get on top of him, and although he tries to push you off, you merely brush his hands to the side before your hand wraps around his neck. He can’t deny that the way your hand holds his throat so firmly is somewhat hot and he’s getting aroused, but your predicament was way too fucked up for him to enjoy anything.

“Gil, pay attention to me.” your hold on his throat tightened as your other hand slapped his face. It wasn’t too hard, but it was enough to make his cheek sting. He winces, and though he once again tries to push you off, even kick you, he can’t do that because he was too weak. Disoriented, numb. He was losing feelings and his head was fuzzy.

"I'll show you how much I love you" is all he hears before he feels your hands all over his body.

#ikemen prince #ikepri #gilbert von obsidian #ikemen prince x reader #yandere ikemen prince #yandere ikepri #cw;yandere❤️ #cw;smut🍋 #ikemen prince smut #ikepri gilbert #gilbert ikemen prince #yandere ikemen villains #yandere fiction

[madangel19]

Okay okay, so hear me out.

The ghoulettes (either one or all, doesn't matter which) and Phantom, right?

Phantom is sick for the first time topside and it's bad.

Bad because they try to hide it for so long they collapse. It's not their fault really, they don't really know what sickness is.

They wake up in Cirrus' room and the girls nurse them back to health!

Ooo, I like :3

Content: Fainting and some angst from poor Phantom

Words Count: 767

Phantom groaned when another wave of unease washed over him during practice. It had been happening all morning and he had no idea what was happening. Did he eat something bad? That often happened when one ate tainted meat, but the food in the ministry had been perfect so far. 

He tried to focus on his guitar, but the more he played, the more pain and unease took over. He could see the concerned looks from his pack members whenever he messed up. That was to be expected since he was new, but when he saw Copia looking back at him, he felt even worse. There was plenty of time to get better with performing. These songs were new to him and he needed more practice, but he had been doing so well over the past few weeks. 

“Let’s take a ten minute break,” Copia said when they were done practicing Kaisarion. He gave Phantom a knowing nod before going over to drink some water.

“Hey, are you okay?” Dewdrop asked, walking over to him with two water bottles in hand. Phantom didn’t realize just how thirsty he was when Dewdrop handed him the water bottle.

“I’m fine. I…I just need more practice,” Phantom replied, taking a sip of the water.

It suddenly hit him like a break and he coughed violently, dropping the water and spilling it. He tried to steady himself, but he was quickly on his knees, alerting the rest of the pack and Copia. His ears were ringing and his vision grew foggy as the ghouls surrounded him. He felt a hand on his back easing him to lie down and all went dark. 

Phantom groaned, slowly opening his eyes to a dark room. His head was pounding and there was something cold on his forehead. He tried to move his hand to feel what was there, but his movements were sluggish. He felt high, but it was a bad kind of high. 

A soft chirp filled the air and he noticed movement in front of him. More chirps and chitters surrounded him and he noticed three figures surrounding him. 

“Hey there, Bug. You gave us quite a scare back there,” a familiar voice cooed as one of the figures got closer. 

Phantom blinked and Cirrus took form before him. She smiled at him and placed a hand on his forehead, taking off whatever it was that he had there. It looked like a wet towel. 

“What…What happened?” Phantom asked, his voice weak. 

“You passed out on us, sweetie. Looks like you caught a nasty bug,” Cumulus said, appearing on his other side with another towel in hand.

“A…bug? Did…Did I get…bit?” Phantom questioned.

Cirrus and Cumulus exchanged worried glances before turning back to him. Cumulus put the rag on his forehead while also caressing his skin with perfectly cool fingertips.

“It’s not an actual bug, honey. You got sick real bad. It happens with new summons, but you’ll feel better in a few days with rest. I know it feels scary, but you have us to take care of you,” Cumulus chimed, her smile sweeter than anything. 

“I…I gotta practice. The band needs…me…,” Phantom murmured. He couldn’t be laying around in bed when he should be getting better at performing. If he wasn’t good enough, then he would surely be sent back to the pits. The very thought terrified him.

“It’s okay, Phantom. We have plenty of time before the tour starts. You just rest and we’ll be here for you. Swiss will make you your favorite snacks whenever you feel like eating. How’s that sound?” Cirrus said, patting his shoulder. 

“What if…What if they send me…back?” Phantom asked, feeling tears well up in his eyes. 

“That’s not gonna happen, Buggy. All of us have gotten sick at some point and we were never sent back. You’re staying here with us no matter what,” Cumulus said, leaning in to peck him on the cheek. 

Phantom let out a sigh and relaxed into the bed. Cirrus and Cumulus continued to chitter amongst themselves as they worked on tucking him into the bed and making him comfortable. 

“You need anything, Bug?” Cirrus asked. 

He wasn’t quite sure what he needed until a wave of drowsiness took over him and his eyelids grew heavy. 

“Just…sleep,” he murmured.

“You rest up as much as you can, honey. That’s the best thing you can do now,” Cumulus said.

Phantom smiled up at them as he slowly closed his eyes. The last thing he heard was them humming softly together as they sat on either side of him.

#the band ghost #ghost band #nameless ghouls #nameless ghoulettes #phantom ghoul #cumulus ghoulette #cirrus ghoulette

[pinkpkmntrainer]

i did it. i fucking did it. abstragedy be upon you all. finally.

***********

Zooble watched from a distance as the ringmaster shoved everyone into the portal that had just appeared. They had decided to opt out of today’s adventure, so it was just them in the circus for today. Which they didn’t mind at all, in fact, they were happy to have alone time. It gave them a chance to think clearly without any interruption from any crazy people.

“Zooble, my dear!” Caine shouted as he teleported directly in front of them out of nowhere. Ugh. Speaking of crazy people…

“Don’t call me that.” they grumbled. “I’m not your dear.”

“Right, my apologies!” the dentures replied. “But since everyone else is over at the Candy Canyon Kingdom, I was thinking that maybe you, me, and Bubble could-”

“Not a chance in hell.”

“...Ooookay. That’s a no, then. So, um…in that case, I guess you can just do whatever you want.” And with that, he was gone as quickly as he had appeared.

Zooble rolled their eyes as they began to wander aimlessly. Why was it that they could never seem to catch a break? Oh well, at least now they had a bit of time to themselves. Hopefully Caine wouldn’t bother them again. It wasn’t long before their thoughts began to wander as well.

They recalled the events of the previous day, where they were kidnapped by the Gloinks and fed to their queen. They remembered the look of fear and worry on Gangle's face when they were carried off. And they remembered how, when Kinger had failed to grab them with his floating hands, they thought “If only Gangle was the one saving me”. She would've known what she was doing, plus they would've gotten to be held gently by her...

…Huh. Weird.

Brushing away those thoughts, they started to look around the giant main room. There wasn't really anything new to see, but there were things to notice. Like the dark red color of the curtains that hung over the stage, and how it reminded them of Gangle's red ribbon body. There was something so cute about the way it would wrap around you completely when she hugged you, and-

Zooble suddenly realized what they were doing, and patted their own face, bringing themselves back to reality. They just couldn't seem to focus today…

They tried to lean on one of the gigantic blocks in the room like it was a wall, but they unexpectedly slipped and hit the floor with a hard thud. Luckily there wasn't anyone around to see their embarrassing little tumble, but as they lay there shocked, they thought about all the times they saw Gangle trip and fall. Her body was so flimsy, it wasn't a surprise that it happened often. But no matter what, she always managed to get up again, which was something to be admired. And sometimes when they helped her up, she’d thank them and they’d feel all warm and fuzzy-

Zooble sat up in a panic and tapped the heel of their hand against their forehead, as if trying to shake the thoughts out of their brain. Why were they thinking like this? What was happening? 

They stood up frantically and began to walk in the direction of the hallway where everyone’s rooms were. They were supposed to go to their room, but their mind was so plagued with thoughts of Gangle, they accidentally walked to her room instead, which only made them feel worse. They slammed their forearms against the door and groaned in frustration. The door just swung open and they fell again. Zooble was feeling awful by this point, the thoughts were nice and all, but they had no idea why they were thinking these things and it was scaring the $&*! out of them. They eventually sat up and took in the sight of Gangle’s room. 

Most of the decor and furniture was in the same range of colors as Gangle herself; dark red and white shades, though things like the bedframe, wardrobe and vanity were all made of dark brown wood. Every surface was covered in craft supplies, plushies, manga, and other such things. Despite the clutter, the room was pleasant and cozy.

As if by instinct, Zooble stepped into the room and started to look around. They weren’t trying to snoop or anything, it was just that being in the room made them feel closer to the ribbon girl…if that made any sense. They eventually settled themselves into a corner, next to a box of art stuff. It was peaceful, sitting there in Gangle’s room. They sighed with relief, not feeling quite so lonely anymore. The mix-and-match toy felt like they might even fall asleep like this…

“ZOOBLE!!”

Zooble lept in place, startled by the sudden yell. Of course Caine had to ruin this for them.

“Caine, what the #&*%!?!?”

“Apologies, my mismatched pal! I simply wanted to check on you! And you had me worried for a while, I couldn’t find you anywhere!” He looked around the room with a puzzled expression. “...Why are you in Gangle’s room??”

Zooble felt their breath snag in their throat. He probably thought they were a creep or something. And they couldn’t blame him.

“...I don’t have a good answer to that question.”

Caine frowned at them. Or at least, they thought it was a frown. “What’s the matter? Are you feeling a little bit of FOMO about today’s adventure?” he inquired. Zooble would’ve laughed at his choice of words if they weren’t so lost in thought still.

“I’m fine, just lonely is all.”

“Lonely? Well, we simply can’t have that! Perhaps I could spawn in an NPC for you to talk to? Or you could hang out with me and Bubble! My offer still stands!”

Zooble drew in a sharp inhale, unsure of how to explain everything to the ringmaster.

“It's a bit more complicated than that. The truth is, I…miss someone.”

“Miss someone?” Caine was confused. His gaze wandered the room briefly, and when he looked at the portrait on the open door, it all suddenly made sense. A soft, sympathetic look faded onto his face, and he lowered himself to the ground, seating himself next to Zooble.

“…You miss Gangle?”

Zooble was surprised he got it so quickly, but nodded. They looked down at the box they were seated next to, their eyes falling on a roll of red satin ribbon. They picked it up and started to slowly wrap it around their hand. It felt almost exactly like they imagined it would feel to hold hands with Gangle…they felt their face grow warmer at the thought. They suddenly became aware of Caine mumbling something, but they couldn’t quite hear him. “What?”

“I’m sure she misses you too.”

Zooble blushed at the kind statement. “Oh…thanks.” They were silent for a long moment, then yawned and leaned on the box a little more. In their drowsy state, they didn’t even notice when Caine tiptoed out of the room and shut the door behind him. It only took a moment for them to fall into a deep sleep.

Gangle tumbled out of the portal back into the main room of the circus, clutching the shattered pieces of her comedy mask as tightly as she could. As she and everyone else stood up and grumbled, Caine appeared in front of them and did his usual greeting, with all the same sickly sweet enthusiasm.

“Welcome back, superstars! I trust you all had a fun time at the Candy Canyon Kingdom?”

The sound of groaning and complaining arose from the group, which the ringmaster ignored as usual. But after he presented the performers with their reward, his jaw curled into a grin as he drifted towards Gangle, and simply said:

“Someone’s waiting for you.”

Gangle had no idea what he meant by that. She allowed him to lead her to her room, where he swung the door open to reveal…Zooble? To her surprise, the mix-and-match character was sitting in the corner of her room, fast asleep, with a bunch of satin ribbon wrapped around their hand. Her initial look of shock quickly turned into a soft smile as she stepped closer and sat down next to them.

“Have they been waiting here the whole time?” she asked, her eyes still fixed on Zooble’s sleeping face. Caine grinned cheerfully as he answered her question. “Indeed they have! I must say, you have a good friend on your hands!”

“Yeah. A good friend.” she mumbled to herself. She leaned in and planted a kiss on the sharp corner of Zooble's triangular head, a faint pink blush appearing on her porcelain cheeks. Caine's jaw curled into another wide grin as he shut the door. It was just the two of them now. A girl made of ribbons and a mix-and-match toy…

Both of them, hopelessly in love.

#the amazing digital circus #tadc #fanfic #fanfiction #gangle x zooble #zooble x gangle #abstragedy #tadc gangle #tadc zooble #tadc caine #zooble tadc #gangle tadc

[nightghoul381]

Sweet Delight ~ Harrison Gray (POV) x Reader

Entry number 1 in @judejazza's An Invitation to Crown Castle event!

Pairing: Harrison Gray (POV) x Reader Prompt: Rain Kisses Genre: Fluff with a lil bit of spice (and an opportunity for a potential part 2?) CW: None WC: 1.3k

You still don’t seem to be able to tell when I’m lying to you. Either that or you’ve gotten very good at acting like you don’t know.

I know it was a weak excuse when I asked you to join me in getting sweets for the upcoming party because I was ‘worried Victor would try to do something weird with the desserts’ but you seemed to be fine with it.

It had taken a while to figure out which shop we should go to for the sweets, so when you suggested we sample a lot of them and go back for the best, I couldn’t exactly refuse. I love getting to watch how your face lights up when you taste something delicious. You have such an honest face.

The first couple of shops were good, different sweets and chocolates but none seemed to be just right. I could tell you were getting a little frustrated when I kept shooting down the shops, but I can’t help but want to keep you out and all to myself.

I know when we get back to the castle, you’ll get swept away into some mission or activity and my time with you will be cut short.

The bell rang out as we entered the next shop and the expression on your face quickly morphed from disappointment to interest as the smell of freshly baked pastries hit your nose.

“It smells really good…” you whisper, leaning your head toward me conspiratorially. I chuckle and nod, approaching the clerk and inquiring about a sample.

“Oh, uh… we don’t usually give out samples, the pastries are rather small and the owner isn’t keen on handing out free portions…” The clerk murmured sheepishly.

Damn, they’re telling the truth too.

“Well, can I get one of the pastries then?” I ask, setting down some money on the counter.

Moments later, there’s a steaming pastry on a plate in your hands. I can practically see you salivating right now, you must be so excited to try it, but you merely carry it over to a table and slide into a seat.

I slowly stroll over to the table, taking my time and enjoying the way you squirm impatiently, gaze flicking between me and the treat sitting before you.

“Harrison… are you stalling for a reason?” You asked, fixing me with your pointed gaze.

“Who said I was stalling?” I laugh, nudging the plate toward you with a smirk.

“The way you’ve been unsatisfied with each shop we’ve been to when normally any sweets are good enough for you… And how you’re not taking the pastry and splitting it in half so you can devour your portion,” you state bluntly.

“Haha, busted,” I admit, flashing a grin your way. “I don’t feel like sharing you with the others today.”

Your face flushes at my straightforward admission, eyes widening as you turn your attention back to the pastry. I pick up a knife and cut the pastry in two, rich red filling steaming as it hits the cold air. I can feel my mouth watering and scoop up my half, nearly bringing it to my mouth before I had another idea.

I reach my arm across the table and hold the treat in front of your face, causing you to let out a surprised squeak.

“Harry, wha—”

I slip the pastry between your lips and chuckle as you give in and bite it. It must be good because the little moan you let out as you chew seems to slip out unintentionally. Your cheeks are so red right now and I can’t hide the smirk on my face as I watch you intently.

“What do you think? Is it good?” I ask, resting my chin on one hand, lazily toying with the other half of the pastry while I await your answer.

“I—uh yeah. They’re really good… ahem… why don’t you try it?” You mumble, trying to regain your composure.

Allowing you a moment’s reprieve, I pop the remaining portion in my mouth, savoring the surprisingly sweet and tart filling contrasting with the rich buttery pastry. A moment later I freeze as I realize that I too have unintentionally let out a satisfied moan.

Damn, there’s no taking that back… you’re going to say we should get these and that we ought to head back.

“Good,” I confirm. When you nod I take that as a sign that my assumption of you wanting to wrap things up is correct.

I stand up and head over to the counter. We take turns selecting different sweets from their display case, having the clerk pack them into two parcels for us. After paying we make our way outside, walking side by side and chatting about everything and nothing, your melodic laugh and cheery voice are like a drug to me. I can’t seem to get enough. I always want more.

“—Oh.”

You stop in your tracks, head jolting upward as another drop hits you from above.

“Oh no! If it rains the sweets will be ruined!” You fret, looking around frantically for some sort of shelter to run for. Unfortunately for you, there’s nothing but open fields on either side of the road we’re on.

“What a shame. Guess we ought to eat them. That way they won’t go to waste,” I offer, opening my parcel and drawing out a small cake, deep red with a rich white icing. I hold the sweet in front of your face and you stare at me in disbelief.

The rain has started falling more regularly and in a few moments we’ll no doubt be soaked, but I can’t seem to stop myself. I like getting you all worked up like this.

“Harrison, you can’t truly expect us to eat all of these sweets! Maybe if we run, we can ma—” I cut off your words once again by placing the treat into your mouth.

I wait impatiently as you chew and swallow, before leaning in and stealing your lips with my own. I let my tongue dart out, flicking against your lips for just a moment before you melt into me. The rich flavor of the cake and tangy taste of the icing are still dominant as I suck your tongue into my mouth.

I hear both of us letting out eager and needy groans as I continue to devour your lips. I don’t even remember the rain until I go to cradle the back of your head and my fingers meet very wet hair.

Pulling back slightly I allow our heavy breathing to be the only thing between us for a moment before chuckling and stating “…delicious.”

I notice that you’ve dropped your parcel and mine has been discarded similarly, your eyes are filled with an intense craving for something a little more satisfying than sweets. I feel your hands dig into my coat, pulling my shoulders down and giving you better access to my lips.

“Hey, what—”

“I… I don’t think you tasted it properly…” You whisper, pushing your plump lips against mine. How am I supposed to deny that?

I plunge my tongue into your mouth, exploring every inch with acute focus. So sweet… I could kiss you forever and still wish to kiss you again. When I feel the wind blow past us, causing you to shudder, I know I’m going to have to be the one to pause this.

I slip my hands over your fists, still clinging to my coat, squeezing gently to convince you to let go.

Pulling away with disappointment, you look up at me with needy eyes and I remind myself that you need to get dried off before you get sick.

“Come on. We’ll head back to the castle and get you warmed up. Then we can pick up where we left off.”

Taglist: @judejazza @aquagirl1978, @themiscarnival @abundance-pathchooser @xbalayage @maries-gallery @randonauticrap @queengiuliettafirstlady @candied-boys

If you want to be added to the taglist just let me know!

#ikevil #ikemen villains #invitation2crowncc #ikevil harry #ikemen villains harry #ikevil harrison #ikemen villains harrison #harrison gray #ikevil harrison gray

[wexhappyxfew]

12 on Subtle Love for Judy and Rosie? Simply cannot get enough of them ❤️

JAMIE HEYYYY!!!! thank you so much first of all for dropping this in the askbox :) very very appreciated on my end + it's for judy and rosie, my two sweetbeans who deserve nothing but the best, so truly, thank you!! i was inspired by the intimacy of sharing in the quiet moments and in this case, this piece hit me a bit harder than others. we come to judy in a time where she's wrangling some of the loses that the group experiences, over and over. and she's trying to find some anchor to hang onto in this ferocious sea that continually knocks her down, over and over......and rosie happens to be that anchor :)

looking out for me

(a/n): for the judy x rosie girlies :') in the midst of finals season, but needed a break from biophysics for the brain and landed on a judy x rosie piece that i'd been playing around with for a few weeks and finally found a place to put it in! prompt is: "You can call (talk to me) me. Day or night. I'm there for you." (changed call to 'talk to me'). please enjoy these two and the intimacy of sharing! <3

The briefing room was probably the place she felt it most.

The loss. The amount of lives that had stepped through the doors and heard that final mission, not knowing it would their final mission in life.

With the lights not on and the sun barely risen outside, it was almost peaceful. When they weren't being told that recipe for a suicide mission.

It was weird knowing Annie Bradshaw wouldn't be walking through those doors today for the mission; along with Margie or Bessie or Kennedy.

Knowing that their lives were scattered somewhere in continental Europe if they hadn't all died.

If.

Judy had gotten her tears out - it was funny, being so accustomed to death day in and day out, she got used to the names being told around the base. She just didn't expect it to be their names.

Reaching up to brush at a stray tear, Judy schooled her features a bit better than she had previously that morning when she'd woken up and Viv had watched her breakdown all alone and build herself slowly back up. None of them really wanted to have to talk about it - the four of them that were missing - especially Francis. Francis seemed to feel it deep within her enough that she was numb. Numb to it all. Judy hurt for her. One day she'd find herself better able to understand these emotions, these feelings, all those unwanted thoughts in her brain. For now, she could only sit and let them grow. She heard the door open from somewhere behind her and slowly turned her head over her shoulder.

Rosie Rosenthal stepped into the briefing room, his gaze lingering around the place, only before settling on her there in the chair. Judy watched him from across the room, the pound of her heart causing all the blood to rush to her head and her eyes, and it took all her might to stay right there in the chair instead of launching across the room to beg him to hold her and put her back together.

To get rid of this ache, this ever-present constant in her life.

Every person going down in a flying coffin, MIA or dead.

But even he couldn't do that if she couldn't even do it for herself. No one could do, especially if you couldn't do it yourself.

Judy hadn't taken the time to realize he had crossed the room, in his slow approach and settled there on the seat beside her. She watched him for a quiet moment and licked her lips.

"Not hungry?" he asked her quietly, leaning forward against his knees and looking up at her with those big, worried eyes, "I noticed you weren't at breakfast." Judy watched him, before a stubborn tear rolled down her cheek, quickly wiping it away, her hands slick with sweat, her heart pounding in her ears, loud enough for any other sense to be drowned out. She stared at him and swallowed the cry in her throat and shook her head.

"Not really." Judy managed out quickly, before looking towards the window, trying to control her breathing rate and her pounding heart, "Just needed a place to be alone….for a bit." Her vision became slightly blurred by her tears and she felt her body aching to cry, to let it all out, to get rid of this feeling and become comfortably numb. But she couldn't do that. She had to keep it in.

She could tell Rosie was taking it in, her poor mumbles of words, mulling them over and thinking all at once. His face looked more strained than usual and he seemed so still, like some sort of statue. She blinked away her tears - over and over.

"You going to be okay for the mission today?" she heard Rosie ask quietly, and there was something in his voice that made her want to cry just a little bit more.

Ever since Rosie had asked for her to be the turret ball gunner for Rosie's Riveters, she had been trying her hardest, putting out with all she could, to do her best in his eyes. There was a certain level of gaining his trust inside the plane that she had already gained outside the plane. A trust that she could operate a gun and strike down what enemy planes she could.

And he knew she was hard on herself, everyone had known that.

And with Silver Bullets being out of commission and their previous crew splintered in various groups, into Operations and HQ and all over Europe, she was still trying to convince herself she could get back to that headspace she'd been in under Annie and Captain Faulkner.

Now with her third commanding pilot, the fear she'd lose him was overwhelming.

"I will." Judy said quietly, looking over at him, his own eyes meeting her red-rimmed ones and she nodded, "I promise you." Rosie watched her; she usually never saw this much of his concerned side of him. He was usually pretty good at hiding it, at least in front of the other men and especially in front of her.

But sometimes, she'd hop out of that ball turret, sweat marks streaked across her face, burn marks on her cheeks, her hands beat-red and shaking and she'd see something flash through Rosie Rosenthal's gaze that made her want to take his worry away in any way she possibly could.

That maybe she could do something that wouldn't worry him, that would reassure him and take that fear away. Because even if he didn't show it, his eyes and that far-off look were ever-present and she saw it, even when staring at each other from across the interrogation table.

Because he'd stare at her as she spoke - citing what she saw, how many chutes, the works - and she'd watch his jaw clench and those eyes turn dark, and he'd speak solemnly almost, and an undisturbed, coldly, calm demeanor and would be by her side when they were dismissed. And he'd ask her how she was and if she needed a sit down. And he'd always have that look. One she replayed over and over in her head.

Like it was the last time he'd be seeing her get out of that ball turret.

"Well," Rosie said quietly, reaching into his inner coat pocket, revealing a neatly folded, lumpy brown bag, "then I can't have my ball gunner going up on an empty stomach so. Eat." He held out the brown paper bag and she stared at him, unsure of the offering, before taking it into her grasp and adjusting herself to sit up a bit. She looked hesitantly at the bag before looking up at him.

Watching with those persistent eyes, she slowly opened up the bag and inside was two pieces of bread, along with a sausage rolled in napkins and an orange. Her stomach, admittedly, growled at the sight and smell of food and she heard Rosie chuckle from beside her.

"Go on," Rosie said softly, his voice thrumming against her ears in a pleasant way that she'd never complain about, "here." He pulled his canteen forward and handed it to her. "Water, too." Judy watched him, in slight amazement and then met his gaze.

"Thanks, Rosie," she said quietly, "you didn't have to-"

"Don't worry about it," he said casually, and then settled into the chair and looked to her, "food's more important than anything and…I don't mind sitting here with you to make sure you enjoy it." She smiled a bit wider at his words, before digging into the bag and pulling the orange from the contents of the bag and settling it in her palm. Staring at the orange, she began to feel her eyes fill with tears and Rosie seemed to notice, leaning forward and placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Sorry," Judy managed out, reaching up to wipe at her eyes, a rather ugly sniffle leaving her nose as she nodded to the orange, "it's just….do you want half? I shared these with Bes all the time, so." Rosie held her gaze for a moment, before squeezing her shoulder warmly and nodding.

"Of course." he said, and Judy cracked out a smile towards him and sniffled again, "Big fan of oranges, ya know?" Judy let out a small laugh and she watched him grin, before she slowly began to peel the fruit, with Rosie's attentive gaze on her own downcast eyes and her slightly shaky fingertips.

"Oranges' your favorite?" Rosie asked her quietly, and Judy looked up, nodding.

“Back home, my brothers and sisters and I would always eat these. Ma made sure if we had anything, we had oranges," Judy said, a small chuckle leaving her lips, "Bes knew I loved them, so we'd usually share. All the time. And since…since she's not here, I wanted to share. With you." Rosie grinned at her, his eyes soft and lingering as he nodded. She smiled again before peeling away the rest of the bright orange outer surface. She looked up at him.

"Plus, it's rare when we get oranges in anyway, so….it's pretty special," she said, pulling the orange in half and then handing the first half to him, "for you." Rosie took the orange and smiled at her with a breathy, "Thanks." Taking a bite of the orange, that familiar and nostalgic taste flooded her mouth and she couldn't help but breathe a little easier just at that.

"Thank you, Rosie," Judy said, swallowing the orange and nodding to the bag, "it means a lot." Rosie gave her a worried smile, where it didn't quite reach his eyes and showed that maybe she had worried him more than she would ever know, but he nodded and looked to her fully.

"I know after the news, it hit you pretty hard." Rosie said, and she felt her throat tighten just at his words, the thought of what had happened, "And Judy….you know, you know you can talk to me. Day or night." Judy nodded and let a shaky smile cross her features.

"I'm there for you," he said softer this time, "you won't lose me that easy." That got a grin on Judy's face as she took another bite of the orange and met his gaze again, his baby blues watching her like it was the greatest sight to behold on base - when there were surely other things like the blue skies, or the setting sun, or the sight of one of those fortresses landing against the tarmac.

They didn't say much for the next few minutes, as they each enjoyed their halves of the orange, but Judy couldn't help but let her eyes linger on him for a moment after each bit of orange in her mouth. Watching how gently he had taken the orange from her, and how tender he still appeared now. How calm she felt sitting there next to him.

"You okay, Judy?" Blinking, she noticed that the orange was empty from her hands, and she was staring off into nothing important, and Rosie's hand was present on her shoulder. Judy met his gaze and then nodded, before covering her hand with her own.

"Yes," she said quickly, nodding again, "just, thank you Rosie. For everything. For looking out for me." Rosie smiled at her, squeezing her shoulder comfortingly, the tops of his cheeks dusting pink.

And he didn't have to say much - he just said, "Next time you get your hands on some oranges, come and find me."

Maybe oranges will be our new 'I got your back and you got mine'.

#masters of the air #mota #mota writings #silver bullets #judy rybinski #rosie rosenthal #judy x rosie #they #shared #oranges #(sobs in a corner) #ya know those quotes about sharing oranges? yeah that was basically my commentary on those in a moment of grieving and i just i- #mentally and emotionally charged by this so #dont mind me losing it in the tags AGAIN #yeah them #them them them #someone give them all the best and brightest things for their future plz #(cries) #HE NOTICES THINGS SHE DOESNT EVEN NOTICE ABOUT HERSELF !!!!!!! (he notices i scream)

[hel7l7]

Looking away is so much easier that admitting that I miss you

#vent art #venting #sorry I went into isolation mode i just can't stand the idea of you being so far away #no worries i hit them up when i realized this #abt that friend who is doing their world travel trip #and i haven't seen in nearly a year #i just wanna hug them so bad #:(( #but we good #we love each other from a distance

[gayvecchio]

Frannie, you are in over your head. Meaning? Meaning, guys like him don't marry girls like you. That's fairy tale. And girls like you get hurt, and guys like him don't even know it, and that's life.

#due south #ray vecchio #francesca vecchio #benton fraser #oof the way you can see the truth of this hit ray so hard #good for frannie for saying all of this and sticking up for herself because ray was being an unfair jerk #especially since he was projecting his own fears and insecurities about losing fraser and taking it out on frannie #ray's behavior here only makes sense to me if he's acting out of jealousy #because he doesn't seem the type to get involved in his siser's love life (unless she's being harmed in some way) #and what he says about fraser directly contradicts what we know ray actually thinks about him #i can't imagine ray sees fraser as the type to 'love 'em and leave 'em for lack of a better phrase. he knows he's not like that #ray is the one in over his head and worried about being left heartbroken (and not being good enough for fraser to stick around for) #if fraser was involved with frannie; ray loses ever getting a chance with him either way whether it works out or not #if the potential relationship worked out ray would have to sit by and watch the man he loves be with his sister #and if it doesn't work out (which it likely wouldn't lbr) he loses his frienship as well because it would never be the same after #and the fact remains that fraser will likely go back to canada one day and leave ray behind #and not realize just how much it will hurt ray when he goes #AND FRASER IS LISTENING TO ALL OF THIS #HE'S JUST ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE GLASS #THE PERSON RAY DREAMS ABOUT #SO CLOSE BUT STILL OUT OF REACH #i can't with them #frannie is the only brave one here i love her #ds30below

[pocketramblr]

Dash simulator

Blog 1: lol anyone else seeing a lot of strawberries in new recipes now? sometimes its fun but i really dont get the appeal of adding it to everything. why did you make strawberry garlic bread

Blog 2: u kno im not a fan of strawberries, i really like the rich sweet and sour notes from oranges, oranges and chocolate is such a good combo. i altered a recipe for a smoothie with oranges last week and it was soooo good ill give you my notes if you want Reblogged by: Blog 1: ahaha yesss i love chocolate and oranges

Blog 3: I canNOT believe the hate im seeing to strawberries right now, like, you know guys know the rule don't like don't bake right?? you know you can hit the back button right?? honestly what's wrong with yall

Open draft- wait guys you know there's a difference between leaving a comment on a recipe saying you hate strawberries and the recipe writer should never use them, and going to your own blog to say you don't really like strawberries, without naming any specific people or recipes right? you know there's a difference right?? - Save - Post - Discard

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Blog 4: why is everyone jumping on the strawberry hate train right now. what is wrong with you. Reblogged by: Blog 5: I knowwww like guys some people stop baking because of reading things like that, please stop it, if you don't like strawberries you can be quiet about it

Open draft- im so sorry if anyone's getting sent mean messages or comments about what they're writing and baking, but i'm literally not seeing any of that and if you are, please use the block button. but someone making a post on their own blog is not that, and if you can't see the irony in you being allowed to complain on personal blogs but not them i can't help you... - save- post- discard

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Blog 2: are strawberries even in season?

Blog 6: woo cherry pie!

#trying so hard to be a blog 6 rn #im discarding those drafts #but clearly it has been too much for me as this one is getting posted #like i really am sorry if any. strawberry antis are directly being rude to anyone #that isnt ok #but i have seen zero of that on my dash or in the tag #i saw a few blogs saying lol they don't like strawberries #and then i saw a ton of blogs saying how dare there be any negativity at all #and seeming to act as if those blog posts were specifically about disliked fic authors i mean recipe makers #which... if any of them were... i didn't see it because of how i blocked large swaths of the fandom like three years ago #when i realized that it was determined to blow up a discourse topic every single month #and if there are people doing that. please. do what i did. block en mass #if you open a recipe that turns out to have strawberries in it and you cant hit the back button but instead leave a nasty comment that is a #you problem #but also if you see a random blog post about someone saying they dislike strawberries- hate strawberries even- and you feel personally #attacked and start crying about how now you never want to bake a strawberry shortcake again and they're so mean #that is also. a you problem. #'what fandom is this pocket' dont worry about it #not one i have any mutuals in #which. considering the mass blocking and the annoying chronic discourse explosions. perhaps is not surprising

[8rujaa]

to anyone dealing with ptsd, has there been anything that has helped relieve some of the symptoms?

#im emotionally stuck due to the constant reliving of what happened #i get these weirdly intense flashbacks where i can remember the how the fabric of the couch looked like up close #and how they felt. and how everything looked. the way the colored lights hit the room a certain way #i think i did myself a disservice by thinking i was soooo in love that i didn’t want to forget any details lmao #now i can remember everything like a photograph and sometimes i find myself back in my old apartment and the fear floods my chest #and i can’t breathe and my stomach starts turning it’s terrible. i really felt like i was in hell #i stopped smoking ouid 3 weeks ago bc whenever these flashbacks would happen the high would make them HD and it would send me into a loop #but now i think weed was the thing keeping me above water… it’s been a rough 3 weeks. but before i start smoking again #i wanted to ask if anyone found something else that made it a little easier #it’s been months since our break up and i really want to move on. i’ve tried to meet other people but i’m terrified of men #and i find myself unable to connect with anyone… #i’ve been physically better which i am so grateful for because being unhealthy was my biggest reason i was so depressed #i’ve been doing therapy but i talk about the same thing with her every week. i’m tired of it #i think i’m still in disbelief that they did that to me. i never thought they’d be capable of hurting someone so badly. #i can’t get over the fact that he r***** me for months while i was disabled and pretended not to know what he was doing was bad #i realized he knew when he tried to make it look like i was crazy. that made me really sad. i think i was hoping he was clueless so #i could still believe he was a good person… or at least the man i fell in love with. i was willing to forgive him once he apologized… #when he tried to make it seem like i was going insane the blindfold came off and i saw him for who he really was #like no wonder i was so scared of u dude… no wonder i kept having panic attacks anytime we were together and i couldn’t sleep next to u #i’ve been afraid to admit that shit broke me as a person. i don’t think i’ll ever be the same. i can’t function. #plus knowing i stayed for her bc i was worried for her and didn’t want her to experience the same thing without someone there bc i realized #how good he was at gaslighting and lying. only to find out she was waiting for an excuse to get rid of me… she wanted me gone… #i went thru all that for nothing… #and i still don’t understand why each time i tried to leave for my own good- to get medical help and support they begged me to stay!!! why #brain vomit