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#but i just feel like i needed to say this specifically
mrs-weasley-reid · 3 days
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Regrets Sting
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Spencer Reid x bau!reader
Summary: You have always been there for Spencer. Turns out, he's never going to be there for you.
Warning: Angst.
A/N: one of my many drafts... enjoy 👀?
— ✿ — ✿— ✿ ✿ ✿
You love Dr. Spencer Reid.
As a colleague, a friend, and, well, a respected man.
Granted, you spent most of your days with a small herd of profilers, but you were great at hiding your feelings for him, if you do say so yourself.
You watched him smile awkwardly with love from one woman to the other. Then, there was Maeve. He was in love with her. You didn't need your profiling skills to lead to that conclusion.
It broke your heart when you heard Spencer's plea. It broke your heart when he couldn't even function properly. And your heart broke for him as you watched him fall on his knees, crying over Maeve.
So you chose friendship. You always have, after all.
You became his anchor. His support. His best friend.
You were there for him. You were there when he was ready to open up. You lent him your shoulder. You became his personal napkin, soaking up all his tears in the hopes that it would lessen the pain, even just a little bit. You kept him company, dragging him out of his apartment to bring him anywhere besides the gloom in his empty home.
And without him, or you, knowing, you gave him your heart. You were in love with Dr. Spencer Reid.
It made you feel guilty, but it was inevitable. Who would've known you could fall deeper than you already were? Not even you, apparently.
And yet, you remained the person he could cry on for two years. You pawned him a shoulder for a long, drawn-out two years. Shoving your feelings in the back of your mind as if it wasn't anything important to you.
The deeper you fell for him, the faster the team caught up with your feelings.
JJ figured it out first when she saw the ends of your hair as you walked in Spencer's apartment the first year of Maeve's death. Spencer had been unresponsive to everyone, but not to you. You managed to get him to open his door just by the sound of your footsteps. She knew, then, that he was in good hands.
Emily and Derek noticed how you felt at the same time. You were all on a case, and an officer who awfully looked a lot like Maeve emerged. You were protective of Spencer, knew exactly what his reaction would be. So you had everything he needed and offered to work with him before Hotch could even mention it. Of course, along that was Penelope getting a confirmation about your feelings for Spencer.
Rossi always knew. He always saw the way you would giggle silently to yourself whenever Spencer sassed his statistics into them. One time, he saw you clean Spencer's desk before everyone arrived. And he suspected that you did so a while back before he caught you.
Hotch? He noticed, but he said nothing unless you verbally told him. He thought you weren't ready to openly admit your feelings to the team yet, so who was he to mention it?
And so it goes...
Emily would grin whenever Spencer gave you coffee every morning. Derek would wiggle his eyebrows whenever he caught your gaze on Spencer, then gossip about it with Penelope, which led to her teasing you 'til sundown. Rossi, at times, tried to ease your feelings when they surfaced. Your solid companion whenever you felt down. And Hotch was ever a menace, stern face or not. He would partner you and Spencer up, specifically on the days when your feelings for the genius were oddly stronger.
So, you could only imagine the heartbreak when Spencer arrived one morning with the wrong order of your coffee and a wide smile as he told you that he was going out on a date.
You immediately showed your protest. Of course, Spencer wasn't happy about it. What was worse was he didn't know why. And worse than that was you couldn't tell him why.
Or so you thought.
"I don't understand why you're making a big deal out of this," Spencer followed you as you walked around the bullpen.
"You just met this woman, Spence. I think it's safe to say, I'm worried. You don't even know whether this person is safe." You lied. You had to. He didn't need to know you didn't want him to go on a date because it would break you.
Spencer crossed his arms, knitting his eyebrows as he felt offended by your words. "I'm a profiler and have 187 IQ. I can take care of myself." He stated, earning a couple of stares from the other agents.
You mirrored his actions, "Really?" You challenged, nodding in his direction, specifically to his tie. "You can't even tie the same tie you've been wearing for years properly. Looks like you haven't done laundry too, because, as far as I can remember, you've been wearing that same vest for the past three days. Are you going to wear that on your date?" You raised a brow.
Emily's eyes blew wide, pursing her lips to eat her laughter in. She looked away in hopes that the urge to burst into fits of laughter would subside. Unfortunately, Derek was doing the same thing, and they both snorted at the same time.
"Obviously, I'm not going to wear this on the date. This is clearly not about how homeless I look like. Just be honest with me and tell me why you're so against me being happy." Spencer's voice climbed an octave higher. He was frustrated and confused, and you both knew how much he hated both.
You closed your eyes and sighed deeply. You really had no other choice, do you? You turned around to face Spencer, "I'm in love with you." You confessed, hoarding the entire bullpen's attention.
Spencer chuckled, shaking his head, "Right, nice joke."
"I'm not joking." It offended you a bit. How much he compared your confession to a silly joke.
Spencer's face darkened. He uncrossed his arms and dipped his hands inside his pockets. His next words broke your heart, "I'm very disappointed in you."
Your eyes widened. Your mouth fell open as you heard your heart break into pieces, so loud you couldn't get a sense of what more he was saying.
"I came to you for two years to mend. You became my best friend because I thought I could trust you. And now, you're in love with me? Did you help me just so you could gain my affection?"
It stung. The silence that fogged the bullpen was deafening. Emily wanted to claw Spencer's eyes, but JJ was fast to hold her back.
Derek began to move beside you, "Reid, don't—"
Your manic laugh cut him off.
Spencer's eyebrows narrowed, "What?" His voice was far from the gentle one you were used to.
"You know what, Reid?" You scoffed, running your tongue on your lower lip to control your anger. "You're right. I was there for you. I was there to lend you a shoulder to cry on. I was there to keep you company. I made you smile. I even made you laugh! And sure, you're very disappointed in me because, god forbid, I fell for the genius prodigy. With the 187 IQ you're boasting, imagine my disappointment when you can't even figure out that I have feelings for you."
The bullpen fell silently dead as you stared at Spencer with such hatred it made his stomach climb on his throat. He has never seen you so... disgusted.
You couldn't take it. You couldn't look at him in the eyes anymore. You felt like you were going to throw up the longer you stood in the center of it all.
His words insulted you. And it hurt like a bitch.
There were many possibilities on how Spencer could've responded to your feelings, but this was beyond your limit.
You bit your lower lip, hesitant yet eager to spill the next words that came out of your mouth. "For the record, I regret falling in love with you." And with that, you left.
An offer from another unit had been sitting in your inbox. And despite having no plan to leave such a beautiful family of colleagues, you filled out the transfer form. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew that you needed an out sooner or later. And Spencer's insensitive reaction was just the right motivation you needed.
The Monday after your outburst became the BAU team's worst nightmare.
Spencer immediately noticed your absence. He knew. Of course, he did. You were always the first person to greet him as you spun around in your seat. It was rare for you to be late.
You haven't contacted him for days, either. And he didn't have the guts to do it first. He has been drowning in guilt and couldn't figure out how he'd make it up to you. He realized how unfair he was to you, albeit too late.
Everyone arrived one by one, and there was still no sign of you until Hotch cleared his throat, "Let's start."
Penelope stumbled, hesitating at the sight of your empty seat. "What about..." She softly muttered and yet loud enough for everyone to hear.
"Agent..." Hotch sighed as he spoke your name. He still remembered how you went back to his office while everyone was out for their lunch break and submitted your transfer request. "She officially transferred to unit 4, violent criminal apprehension program... today," Hotch announced, much to his dismay.
Derek's eyebrows knitted, glancing outside the window of the conference room to your desk. "Are you kidding? Her stuff is still here."
Hotch took a deep breath, glancing at Spencer for a moment. "She said they were unnecessary items." He cleared his throat and gestured for Penelope to continue what she was doing.
Regrets stung Spencer like a thousand bees.
Most of the things that clattered on your desk were things that you both shared. His pens that you never gave back. Post-it notes he left for you that had no importance, but you kept them up on the wall of your cubicle. A photo booth picture of the two of you from one of Rossi's Christmas parties. The small bookshelf on top of your desk overflowing with Spencer's annotated books.
"But she didn't even tell us. She didn't say goodbye." Penelope exclaimed. Her eyes matched the frown on her lips. She couldn't help but talk about you. After all, they were your family for many years.
"Could you blame her though?" Emily scoffed, giving Spencer a glare.
Spencer messed up. Big time. And he has no idea how he would make it up to you.
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fairuzfan · 19 hours
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would you classify “jihadist” as a slur? personally i feel like it’s mainly used by islamophobic white people who want to demonise and antagonise muslim people.
tbh even “islamists” feels like a slur. like no muslim calls themselves these terms. and i’ve only ever heard these be used when white people are trying to spread hate.
i think there needs to be more discussion within western communities on the language surrounding muslims and arabs (because they love conflating the two). people should be held accountable for saying islamophobic shit just as much as they’re held accountable for saying any other sort of slur/hateful comment.
honestly "islamist" doesn't even make sense as a term to me because like what do you mean? its different from "islamic extremists" (which is kinda a vague term in itself) because it implies something intrinsic to islam that is violent and shady that muslims are trying to push. are you saying that salafis for example represent the majority of muslims? if so, i personally would disagree lol. its a super vague term that doesn't mean anything other than "i hate muslims."
"jihadist" also doesn't make sense because islamically speaking, jihad is a pretty wide concept that means different things in different scenarios. im not going to go too much into this, but "jihad" doesn't mean anything involving armed conflict intrinsically. the way i learned it is that its a "struggle" you do in the name of Allah. so things like studying to be a doctor (as long as it's for the purpose to please God) can be considered jihad. so like, when people use "jihadist" in the west im like.... ok... you clearly don't know the history and context and you're vilifying the concept of jihad overall.
you're right, i agree that these terms are only ever used to vilify and spread hate. when people use these terms they show me what type of person they are. and even when they call people terrorists (which in the united states, terror laws were specifically conceived and strengthened to criminalize palestinian resistance, even unarmed) its obvious that they're doing this to de-legitimize. because they never call israel terrorists because its state sanctioned violence. they view anything that isn't a "state" as terror activity because they consider the state as the only legitimate use of force and violence. israel was literally founded on terrorism of palestinians. but they never use those words to describe israel, do they?
but yeah i generally don't take people who say these things seriously and i don't think anyone should either. of course there are terror groups around the world that are LEGIT terrorists, but when talking about palestine, the media and even the law only calls palestinians terrorists. i dont know how to combat it other than rolling my eyes and talking over them tho. this is a problem within media overall thats so widespread.
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gggukniverse · 1 day
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take me down slow | jjk
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title: take me down slow
pairing: jeon jungkook x f!reader
genre: m, smut, established relationship au
summary: jungkook is back home from work and even if you've missed him a lot, you let him rest tonight. though, out of all night, you have a wet dream tonight. and even if jungkook is tired, he's happy to take care of you.
warnings: dom!jk sub!reader, needy reader and sleepy koo 🥹, a little bit of oral (m receiving), a little bit of fingering too, unprotected sex (pls be safe), degradation (jk calls reader a whore like one time), daddy kink, kink discovery, creampie, just basically some lazy sleepy sex... until it's not so lazy.
wordcount: 2.2k
note: HELLO !!! ��� this is just a little story i wrote a long time ago and since part 3 of basic needs is still a work in progress i wanted to give you something to read while you wait :) this one is not edited at all so don't expect the greatest thing. either way, i hope you enjoy it 🩷
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you open your eyes with a gasp and when you take in the dark room you realize it was just a dream. it felt too real. you can almost still feel jungkook”s hands all over your body, well, you kind of actually feel them now.
jungkook is fast asleep by your side, your legs tangled together while your arm is thrown over his middle and his is wrapped around your waist to keep you close to him even in his unconscious state.
he came home from work yesterday, it’s been almost four weeks since the last time you two were together but that’s what being an international star does to his schedule. he got home late in the afternoon and you only got to prepare dinner together and share a comfortable and much needed talk during dinner before he said he was so jet lagged and he needed to go to sleep. you needed him so bad but didn’t say a word, just went to bed with him and fell asleep together.
but out of all nights, you had to have a stupid wet dream tonight.
you’re actually sweating, your skin is hot and your underwear is starting to feel uncomfortable because you can feel it’s soaked. and jungkook is sleeping. he’s peacefully sleeping with his pouty mouth and furrowed eyebrows. you feel so bad but you need him even more, so you guess you can feel bad about it tomorrow morning.
you shift a little and get closer to his neck, giving his skin sweet little kisses as you slowly start to rut your hips against him to try and find any kind of friction on your crotch. like a bitch in heat, that’s what you feel like.
a groan escapes jungkook’s mouth at one specific suck to the side of his neck and his hand twitches where it’s placed on your waist.
“baby.” you whisper in his ear.
“yeah...” he only groans with that sleepy rasp to his voice you missed so much.
“i’m so horny.” you whine as you keep rutting against his hip.
that comment alone seems to wake jungkook up. he lifts his head a little to look down at you with what you suppose is an arched eyebrow, the little light in the room coming from the city lights through the window.
“baby.. .” he says and drops his head back on the pillow, closing his eyes again. he’s tired. you feel so bad.
“i’m sorry, i.. fuck..” you feel like crying but god, you’re so horny you don’t even think your brain is working anymore.
“it’s okay, baby.” jungkook mumbles and his hand that was on your waist goes down to squeeze one of your asscheeks out of nowhere, making you whimper on his neck.
“kook.. so horny..”
“mhm.. i know.” you swear if he keeps talking with that raspy voice you could come completely untouched.
“want you so bad.” your hand goes down to cup him over his sweatpants. he’s soft but you can definitely feel him twitching a little at the contact.
“make me hard, baby.” jungkook squeezes your asscheek again, making you moan.
“yes!” you quickly get up on your knees and throw the comforter away from his body, wasting no time in pushing his sweats down.
“good girl.” your boyfriend praises, his hand going to your hair when you bend over to blow air on his soft dick teasingly.
“missed you so much,” you take him into your hand and start giving his head little licks, feeling it slowly starting to harden on your hand. “missed your cock in my mouth.”
“missed your mouth too.” jungkook hums as he brushes your hair out of your face so he can see you.
“you’re so hot..” you whine when you feel him getting to full hardness just in a matter of seconds. you put it in your mouth, your lips wrapping around him and drowning in the groan that escapes jungkook’s mouth.
“that’s my girl.” the praise makes you so wet you could feel it running down your thighs if your underwear wasn’t soaking all of it.
you bob your head a few times to get him wet enough and pull away with a desperate moan, “kook, i need you.”
“i know, come here.” he pats his thighs. you work quickly, sitting down on his thighs and leaning down to catch his lips in a desperate kiss, trying not to grind against his cock.
“i love you.”
“i love you too baby,” jungkook chuckles fondly against your mouth. “c’mon, sit that pretty pussy on this cock, yeah?” he gives you one last kiss before putting his hands on your waist lifting the big shirt —his shirt— so he can take it off.
you’re only wearing your panties so as soon as the shirt hits the floor, jungkook groans at the sight even through te darkness in the room.
“pretty baby.” he praises, running his hands up and down your sides as you sit back on his thighs.
“i’m so wet.” you mutter, looking down at where you’re sitting in one of his thighs.
“yeah, can fucking feel it,” jungkook says. “would make you ride my thigh, but i want you on my cock,” he easily lifts you up by your hips and positions you on top of him. “take them off.”
you sit up for a second to take the ruined panties off and throw them away before sitting back down on top of him, your most sensitive part just above his cock.
“let me feel you,” jungkook brings one of his hands down and you choke on a moan when his fingers start running through your wet folds. “fuck yeah, that’s my whore, huh?”
“kook,” you whimper, grinding your hips against his hand. “fuck yes...” a little moan escapes through your lips when he slips two fingers inside.
“so little resistance, are you this needy for cock?” jungkook hums in question and you almost cry out as he slips another finger inside. you don’t tell him you’ve been using toys while he was away. either way, his fingers always feel better than any toy.
“yes, need your cock baby.”
“c’mon, sit on it.” he gives your pussy a wet slap that makes your thighs twitch for a second and then grabs the base of his cock to make it easier for you.
“okay.” you whisper and lower down, positioning on top of his cock and moaning absurdibly high when jungkook decides to drag the head of his cock through your folds.
“so wet.” he mumbles.
you think you might die if you don’t have him inside you now so you start to sink down on his cock slowly, both of you moaning in unison, until you’re sitting on top of him with his entire length inside.
“missed you so much.” you whine, feeling like you could cry.
“i missed you too baby,” he puts his hands on your hips. “so much.”
you stay there for a while, just feeling him inside as you bend down to kiss him again. he wraps his arms around you and kisses you back with so much passion you’re out of breath seconds later.
“pretty.” he looks up at you with that type of smile that makes your knees weak and you straighten up again, putting your hands on his chest for balance.
“you feel so good, kook.” you tell him because you need him to know.
“mh... yeah?” asshole.
“yes.” you moan and start grinding your hips for your pleasure, still not giving him what he wants.
“i can’t fucking see anything right now but i’m sure you’re creaming my cock so good, right?” the words make you clench around him with a whine and you hear him groan at the feeling. “so fucking tight.”
but you eventually sit up a little, letting him pull out until only his head is inside you and slowly sink down on him again. you do it slowly, still tired from how little you must’ve slept, but jungkook seems fine with it. little hums and groans escape his mouth sometimes but the time he lets out a high-pitched moan you clench so hard around him, making him moan again and grip on your hips for dear life.
“baby, god...” he breathes out. it’s clear he’s still sleepy, but it’s so fucking hot.
you lose yourself the moment his tip grazes against that spot, your hips grinding desperately for him to keep hitting it. but jungkook helps you by bending his legs a little, planting his feet on the mattress and starting to thrust up into you.
hard. you didn’t think he could be on his full potential when he’s as sleepy as he is now, but he proves you wrong fucking you so hard that you fall on top of him, your bare chest against his clothed one. yes, also the fact that he’s still half clothed and you’re completely naked makes you even wetter. but he’s slow, he gives your deep and hard thrusts but still doesn’t do it fast.
“oh my– fuck...” you breathe out against his neck, not being able to move anymore.
“feels good, baby?” he doesn’t stop fucking you, his hands also pulling your hips down to meet his thrusts so hard you know you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.
“yes daddy,” the word slips out of your mouth before you can even process it and you feel jungkook stopping completely. “fuck...” you whisper and hide your face on his neck in embarrassment. “i’m sorry, i don’t know why i said that.”
“daddy?” jungkook asks and you hate the way you don’t know what he’s thinking right now.
“i’m so sorry... fuck, that was so weird– i’m sorry baby.”
“no, let daddy hear you baby.” he suddenly starts thrusting up inside you and you let out a scream.
“kook! oh my god!” he’s fast now. fast and hard. your whole body is completely limp on top of his.
“that’s not my name, babe.”
oh fuck.
“d– daddy..” you stutter because you can’t even form words right now.
“there you go.” he chuckles and fuck, how can he chuckle while fucking you so hard, you can’t even form a single thought in your brain right now.
“fuck!” you whine when his tip keeps brushing against that sweet spot. “i’m so– i’m so close, daddy.”
“gonna cum?” he hums.
“yeah...” you cry out and the chuckle he lets out makes you clench incredibly hard around his cock.
“gonna cum on daddy’s cock?”
“fuck! yeah... yes, yes, please.” you mumble dumbly, feeling closer and closer everytime he speaks.
“please what?” jungkook hums as his hips keep that punishing pace that has you seeing stars.
“please let me cum,” you beg. “please daddy.”
“cum for me, baby.”
your orgasm washes over your whole body like a wave, leaving your legs shaking as you fall completely limp on top of his body while he keeps thrusting to cum just a few seconds after.
“fuck...” jungkook groans as he fills you up, the sensation making you squirm a little on top of him. “that’s my good girl.” he mumbles as he rubs your back up and down soothingly.
“i missed you.” you say and finally lift your head up to leave a little kiss on his lips.
“i missed you too baby,” you can see his smile even through the dark. “i’m gonna turn us around, okay?” he warns and you just nod, letting him hug your waist to flip you two around so that he’s the one on top.
“it’s gonna be messy.” you giggle as he positions himself on his knees to pull out.
“it’s okay, i’ll change the sheets now.” jungkook shrugs and starts to pull out, making you hiss a little in discomfort but sigh when you instantly feel his cum spilling out of you and straight onto the sheets.
you can’t help but giggle again when jungkook sits back and looks down, like he’s admiring the view.
“like what you see... daddy?” you tease as you slide your hand down your body until you get to your pussy and slip two fingers inside.
“you don’t know what you’re doing to me.” he rubs his hands up and down your thighs as he keeps his eyes down where you’re gathering some of his cum with your fingers. a low groan leaves his mouth when you bring your messy fingers to your mouth and suck on them, tasting him on them.
“missed your taste.”
“you better stop that shit before i get hard again,” he warns you and you break in laughter. “wanna have a quick shower?” he asks.
“yeah, i’m a little sweaty and i feel gross.” you nod as you sit up. he nods.
“mh, i’ll change the sheets while you shower, okay? i’ll join you in a minute.”
“okay.” you smile and lean closer to him to steal another sweet kiss before getting up from the bed and making your way to the bathroom, turning the lights on first.
“baby.”
you turn around at that and jungkook looks up and down your naked body before saying, “i really missed you.”
you smile. “i missed you too.”
-
A/N: i hope you liked this story !!!!! please feel free to comment or send me an ask telling me what you thought of it, feedback helps a lot ! see you in the next one :) 🫂💐
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tofixtheshadows · 3 days
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So I've been thinking lately about how Mithrun is Kabru's dark mirror (more on that another time- it needs its own post), and I thought it interesting that one of their parallels is that they were both cared for by Milsiril, but in opposite directions. She took Kabru in as her foster after he was orphaned and tried to convince him not to become an adventurer. On the flip side, she helped rehabilitate Mithrun specifically so that he could rejoin the Canaries.
And I kept wondering: why?
For Kabru, obviously she loves him a whole lot- despite any other shortcomings in their relationship, I do believe that.
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So I get why she tries to convince him not to go dungeoning, and, failing that, at least prepares him as thoroughly as she can.
But why help Mithrun? She used to hate Mithrun, but after realizing what a secretly twisted person he was, she actually thought of him more positively (oh, Milsiril). So it wasn't as if she held the kind of grudge that might motivate her to make his already-depleted life even more miserable by sending him back to the dungeons. And it wasn't that she felt bad for him either, since she didn't visit Mithrun for the first ~20 years of his recovery.
The Adventurer's Bible says that Utaya was the impetus for Mithrun returning to the Canaries, but Milsiril is the one who made the trip to see him and tell him about it.
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Why would Milsiril work so hard to get her old coworker back into fighting fit? Why encourage him to return to such a dangerous lifestyle, when she was the one who chose not to mercy-kill him?
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That last panel is such a crazy thing to hint at and then never elaborate on. Without it we could have just thought that Milsiril wanted the Canaries' work to continue without her, even if it seemed out of character. I think some people even assume she's just a natural caretaker as a foster mom and handwave it to include nursing Mithrun too. What could Milsiril's suspicious motives be? What does she gain from Mithrun joining the Canaries that isn't an altruistic desire to see dungeons safely sealed? Feeling a sense of responsibility for the work she left behind isn't an ulterior motive.
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My theory is: Milsiril, knowing that Mithrun was empty save for the burning desire to face the demon again, wound him up like a clockwork doll and pointed him back at the dungeons.
Hoping that he'd eliminate the biggest threat to Kabru's life, before it was too late for him.
Milsiril the puppetmaster.
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"Defying the Default"- Skin Tones and the Presence of Black Characters
Okay, this one is going to be half lesson and half a thought experiment- it may get a bit frustrating, as conversations like this often do- but remember, discomfort is not always a bad thing! So I ask that you walk with me for this one.
It’s also interesting, because I’m going to direct this towards everyone (readers included!), but specifically towards my fanfic writers of media with no visual medium, as I’ve noticed this pattern there, and it makes up a good amount of creators on this site. Okay? Okay.
Behold! Many shades of brown!
I had to wade through a lot of colorism for this, and even this link is subtly racist in its introduction- the idea that brown is ‘unexciting’ 🙄.
Anyway, you know where I’m going with this:
"Chocolate and Coffee"
Even the link above pulled this! Writers who use this... they’re not ‘wrong’ per se but… often uninspired. It feels... Lazy. When you can tell an author has put no thought into the brown of choice, it makes Black readers feel like you believe these are the only shades of brown- that that’s all we look like. Even chocolate is more diverse (white, milk, dark, marbled, cookies and cream?) Coffee can come in numerous shades as well (light, medium, dark roast? Type of bean?)
My first direction to help with this: make it a point to know what shade that character is (whether canonically, or if you're the original creator, look at a reference and write it down) and find a name! Be consistent! Find similar browns to one another. If the canon Black character's skin color is done poorly, find something similar and use that! (I'll get more into this in the next lesson!)
Our skin colors may modify as we age, it changes over the seasons/presence in the sun, and some people even have vitiligo! But we're not gonna be “dark roast coffee” one morning and “light milk chocolate” suddenly. We're not chameleons lmao.
And you know what? That shade you choose might very well be 'coffee'! But it's not going to be because you didn't look and assumed we're all some random brown! That’s the intent showing! If we can find endless ways to describe the beauty of white/pale skin, we absolutely can for brown! Be willing to unpack why you may not believe brown to be capable of beauty, and work through unlearning that- it will show in your writing! One way is by pausing with yourself, and recognizing when you had a biased thought. Even by this, you’re learning!
Here’s where I want us to get into the thought experiment:
I want you to think about the description of characters in stories (as a whole). Challenge yourself- in the fics and stories you read, how often is anyone blatantly labeled 'White'? Read a story or fic; how long can you imagine them as not-White before it's ever clarified? Because not even 'pale' automatically implies a White person!
You know how I’ve mentioned before that 'Black people are not a monolith'? I can find you at least some examples of Black people fitting some of the common descriptions of white characters.
"Brunette with brown eyes"
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(Fun fact: I actually learned back in my Masters program that genetically no one has ‘black’ hair- our eyes are processing it as black, but it’s really just dark brown due to eumelanin. Regardless, if you stand us in the direct sunlight, you will see that our hair is usually just dark brown!)
"Red hair with pale skin"
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“‘tanned’ skin with hazel/green eyes”
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“blond hair" (period!)
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Now, I’m not saying that blond haired Black people or Black folk with albinism are overly representative of my people. What I AM saying is that it needs to not be taken for granted that a reader is automatically assuming a character is White in your piece of fiction- I can assume your character looks like anything if it's not stated! Especially if the OG source is a book or a podcast! We’re just used to assigning these features- and characters- as white until ‘proven not’! The default!
I am guilty of this too! Even still, I reread many of my works and go ‘ah, I didn’t clarify.’ And I have to work on doing better at it. This is having intent for your Black characters, but really, it’s having intent for all of them!
(This doesn't mean going “the Black man said,” the way sometimes people say “the Chinese said” (which…. Tbh we should all stop doing that anyway, it's weird and racist))
My Next Challenge:
Some people may disagree, but- Ahem:
Say BLACK!
Breathe lmao! Take the time to recognize that it's OKAY to introduce a character as Black, to say Black, it's fine! Obviously be sensitive about it, don't shove it in there to “win your diversity points”, but like… People are Black. It's not a bad word. What matters is the context in which you used it!
You don't even have to say it every single time. Really just the first, introductory sentence will do. For example:
“[Character A], a bright, young, Black girl with knotless braids to her mid back, glittering hair clips matching her bright green t-shirt, and a brilliant smile that shined against her bistre skin.”
I recognize that some might argue that by saying “bistre”, you don't need to say Black. But 1) you don't have to be Black to be brown or dark skinned, and 2) There's a social stigma behind even saying Black- of discussing race in general, because it leads to discomfort. Race (as a sociological construct) exists. When we say nothing about it, allowing Whiteness to be the default, we're still emphasizing race, however silently! If you're already doing it... Why not mention it? 🤷🏾‍♀️🤷🏾‍♀️🤷🏾‍♀️
(here's a good clip of Ijeoma Oluo discussing the difficulty of discussing race; while I highly recommend the whole thing, the relevant clip is 4:25-5:39)
Maybe they're in the Black student organization in a lead position, maybe they're in a Black main cast of a play- it's okay to have those things in the story to help develop the idea that your Black character is actively Black! Just do your research to make sure you’re not leaning into stereotypes!
“There’s no races in my fantasy/future world!”
That’s fair! But I want to give you an example of how people will still project these identities onto your characters anyway:
No one has an explicitly stated 'race' in Avatar: The Last Airbender (afaik); they’re all divided by element culture. YET, many people were offended that a mixed-Korean actress was cast in her role in the live action- they ‘just didn’t see it’, because subconsciously they'd imagined her ‘face claims’ as WHITE, despite it never once being mentioned in the canon! (there’s also a firm sexualization and east Asian fetishization argument to be made about it, but that’s not within the scope of this particular conversation.)
Point is, if you are including humanoid characters in your fantasy stories, fine. You don't need to say ‘Black’ outright. But, that just means that you’re going to have to be even more detailed in your description. Because if I were watching a TV show and a Black actor shows up as an elf… I know what features I’m seeing! Entire protests have occurred over the casting of Black actors in a role ‘meant for a white person’; so... everyone sees it!
Conclusion
This is another reason why intention in character design and writing is important! Context clues and socialization help me understand who your character is. If it works like this for white characters, it can work like that for everyone else! You just have to know enough about me to write it in (and that's where the social and societal bias lie, because how much do you really know about me?)
A way to better understand this is reading books by Black authors (for fantasy, I would highly recommend Raybearer by Jordan Ifueko and Children of Blood and Bone by Tomi Adeyemi) as well as Black literary classics! Finding and reading Black fic authors in fandoms with Black characters! By learning how we describe ourselves and our skin colors, you’ll learn and practice how to appropriately describe us!
Now I can't make you do any of this! But I do want you all- writers especially- to start noticing our bias, how we may default to the experience of whiteness- and how that affects the way we write. When we have Black characters, and really any character of color, we need to start paying attention to how often their features, culture, and activities are emphasized, even for what we may consider to be 'background' details. That’s how we normalize creation and understanding, and become better at writing!
It’s just something to practice; remember, it’s the thought that counts, but the action that delivers!
In addition, if you are interested in a simple read into why approaching race is so uncomfortable as a whole, I've attached Robin DiAngelo's book here! Thank you to the PDF guru @toiletpotato for the link!
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teaboot · 14 hours
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Hey, I think you give good advice. If you don't mind me asking, what qualities do you think make up a good friend? Trying to get better at being that. Thanks in advance
huh. You know, I don't know? I don't think I've ever really thought about that. What to do to be a good friend, specifically, as opposed to simply a good person.
I suppose... assuming your friends are people you trust, then the only difference would be your level of intimacy, perhaps?
My close friends know some rather vulnerable sides of me, and I trust them not to use it against me the same way I know I wouldn't use their soft spots against them.
I suppose being a good friend is less of a checklist of duties and more like... wanting them to be happy, and knowing that they want you to be happy, too.
I'd say some good places to start are respect, consideration, communication, and boundaries.
I respect my friends. I admire them. I try to check in on how their lives are going, how they're feeling and how their other relationships are, especially after they've listened to me vent or hinted at other things going on, or if they're behaving unusually or seem down.
I try to tell them often that I care about them, and back that up with actions when possible- offer help, do small gestures that show I think about them, listen without judgement when they just need to talk.
I try to reach out to keep us meeting up in person, because time flies away so fast and it's hard when everybody is scared to reach out first. I try to give more than I take, because i know from experience and time that I won't be taken advantage of, and if I think they're about to do something dangerous or regrettable I try to let them know what I'm worried about without butting in and taking over.
I don't know. It's hard. I suppose you just have to keep growing with them
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am-i-interrupting · 2 days
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hazbin hotel with a reader with an American accent. not like a light one but like literally thick southern accent and they grew up in the south
Alastor
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When he first heard you spoke, his head cocked to the side and his smile widened.
You wouldn’t find out why until much later when he trusted you enough to actually be. . . vulnerable.
Alastor liked listening to you talk.
It reminded him of when he was alive. The thrill of the first man who begged for his life at Alastor’s hands, his mother’s voice singing as she cooked, the chatter of people in speakeasies.
He grew up a southern boy, after all.
It comforted him.
Some days, if things have been particularly unpleasant, he might even just sit next to you and ask you questions about topics he knows you’re passionate about just to hear your voice.
One day though, in private, you hear his voice slip into something resembling a thick southern accent rather like your own but different.
He quickly rectifies it but maybe he’ll start being more loose with his stage persona around you and let his true self show.
Vaggie
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Vaggie didn’t explore Heaven when she was there. She main trained and focused on work, spending time with other exorcists.
You were probably the first person with a southern accent she met.
Depending on how thick and strong your accent is as well as how many southern-specific words you use, she might need just a bit of help understanding you.
I imagine you’d have to repeat things several times when you first met her.
She will try to mimic your accent.
It’s not out of mockery, she just wants to figure out how things flow off your tongue.
Her attempts are atrocious but adorable.
Vox
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Vox’s whole image is perfection. Falling for someone with a thick southern accent would be something seeing as certain stereotypes exist.
He loves your accent and will get in a fist fight with anyone who says something snarky about it.
He has a file of audio samples that are just your voice as your ramble on about things he puts on as background noise when he’s stressed.
Would probably try to encourage you to start a podcast so he can have more samples of your voice.
He absolutely adores the way that you pronounce his name.
Absolutely a slut for a good southern drawl.
Getting a little NSFW, if you say any form of “god” “lord” or “holy (fill in the blank)” paired with the accent, it makes him feel like he’s defiling a church goer even if you’ve never been very praising of god and he loves that.
Definitely calls you “bell” because you’re his southern bell.
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cheriladycl01 · 2 days
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Baby It's Cold Outside - Carlos Sainz x BulgarianOlympicSkiing! Reader
Plot: You take your new husband skiing with your friends Alexandra and Charles.
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"How do you do this as normal training baby! I can barley do it two winter breaks in a row!" Carlos shivers looking around as you strap your gloves on.
"Come on! I want to get to the big slopes early so I can practice! Then we can have fun with Charles and Alex!" you smile at your husband as you pull your snow boots on that were at the edge of the cabin.
"But Alex and Charles get a lay-in why don't i?" he complains pouting at you and giving you the puppy eyes.
"Because you decided to marry me, and that doesn't lead to lay-in's on a Ski holiday!" you giggle.
"Okay, but over the summer you are coming with me to Mallorca and we are having lots of cuddles and lay-in's and walks along the beach and lots of morning sex!" he grins cheekily making you slap his chest.
"Okay, well lets go Skapi!" you smile taking his hand.
You guys headed first to the large slopes where you could go down and practice for the Olympics that were to be held in Milan in 2026. You practiced for around an hour, going at high speed and cleaning up your turns and corners.
Then Carlos decided it was time to head back to the log cabin you guys were sharing with Alex and Charles and ask them if they wanted to join you for lunch. You took a leisurely ski through the wooded ski area that was just a general skiing area rather than the specific slopes used.
He reached out for you, holding your hand as you both used one pole to change your directions as needed.
"It's a really nice day today!" you say after pulling down the bandana you had wrapped around your mouth currently. Usually you'd wear a full balaclava but where you were skiing with friends you wanted to be able to talk to them without shouting.
"Yes, the sun is bright!" he says looking around the white snow that if you both took the skii masks off you'd for sure be blinded by the dazzling white expanse.
"Mmm, so how do you feel about the rest of the year?" you carefully ask your husband. You had tiptoed around the subject of him having to leave Ferrari. He understood why they'd jump at the opportunity to take on a 7x World Championship when this year they had a car that was consistent and contending with the Red Bull, that didn't mean it didn't hurt though. You'd only found out a few days ago from Charles himself.
He'd found a true friendship in Charles and Alex, just like he had done with Lando. It didn't mean he would no longer see Charles but they were arguably one of the best pairing on the grid when it came to team-work and wins.
"Well, Audi have said they'd like to take me on in 2026, but that would mean a year out. Red Bull have also spoke to me about removing Checo, but I want a championship and with Max as Red Bull golden boy I don't think it would be feasible. Then obviously there's Mercedes but their car was so bad this year, so it really depends!"
"Well, whatever happens you know you'll have me right?" you say, slowly coming to a halt and pull him into a hug.
"I don't know what the best decision is, but I'm just going to try perform my best this season with Ferrari!" he offers and you nod, pulling him in.
"If you do go with Audi and have an off season in 2025 that means we'll have the whole year together!" he smiles at what you just said.
"Mmmm maybe we can travel without the stress of me racing each time!" he grins pulling you in and kissing you, your masks clashing together making you both laugh.
You walk back in to the cabin to find Alex and Charles cuddles up on the sofa under a fluffy blanket.
"Hey guys, want to go get some lunch?" you ask looking around.
"How on earth do you survive with it this cold!" Alex shivers looking at the snow that falls off yours and Carlos' boots as you slip them off.
"You are all from warmer regions. Mediterranean people" you sigh with a small laugh.
"Sorry we aren't Slavic or Balkan like you and can hold up in your insanely cold winters, I'm guessing that's how you got into skiing?" Charles chuckles.
"Yeah, my dad would take me up the mountains each winter and go skiing! It's how I got into it competitively!" you smile, remembering all the memories from when you were younger.
"It's amazing what you've achieved not only for yourself but your country!" Alex smiles.
"Thank you guys! Going for Gold in 2026 though! You guys will come support me right?" you ask, already planning to give them VIP seats where they could watch from.
"Of course!" they all reply while Carlos comes behind you and picks you up throwing you over his shoulder and launching you onto the part of the sofa next to Charles.
"Carlos be careful" you laugh at him, holding one hand on your chest and another around his neck.
"Just an hour of chilling? Then we'll do lunch and more skiing?" he asks using those big brown eyes off his.
"Alright fine" you smile, pulling him in for a hug as you tune into the show Alex and Charles had on.
You could 100% get used to this life.
y/user
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Like by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc and alexandrasaintmleux
y/user: Holiday with Ferrari Family! Forza Ferrari <3 also Charles stole my phone :<
Tagged 3 People
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scuderiaferrari: We love our Core 4! Happy Holidays!
carlossainz55: mi amor you showed us all up, don't recommend a Ski Holiday with a Silver Medalists!
-> fan1: I was at the slopes and saw her helping Alexandra, was the cutest
-> fan2: not mans complaining about his literal wife's achievements!
formulasantander: Alex and Y/N repping the red! We love to see it!
charles_leclerc: I look good no?
-> y/user: no lol, jk don't cancel me
alexandrasaintmleux: love you my best friend! <3 thank you for the ski lessons.
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Instagram Story Caption:
Gang waiting on Carlos be like...
Taglist:
@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @spideybv28 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @kapsylia @laneyspaulding19 @lazybot @malynn @cassielikereading @viennakarma @teamnovalak @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @jlb20416 @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @seomako @urdad-hot @formula1mount @tinydeskwriter @butterfly-lover @ironmaiden1313
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Note
Hey, can i have Lucifer x gn! reader that suffers from migraines? It can just be headcanons, really.
I dont have any specifics for it.
Nonniieeeeee, I’m so sorry! I’m not sure when you sent this but I’m finally getting to it. Thanks for being so patient, to you and everyone who’s requested recently. Also, I hope you’re feeling okay, anon. ❤️‍🩹 And as always, enjoy~
Notes: gn!reader, just fluff and Luci being such a sweetheart ALSO I GOT TWO LUCI POSTS DONE IN ONE DAY FUCK YEAH!!!
Lucifer x reader- S/O suffers from migraines
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“OH DARLING! MY ANGEL BABY! Come, lay down. I’ll get you an ice pack. Or would you prefer a heating pad? Tell me what you need, my love. Daddy’s here for you~”
Good luck. This guy is gonna cling to you and baby you all day until you feel better okay? Just prepare yourself
Will literally, actually, for real do anything you ask. He just feels so bad for you and hates seeing you like this so go ahead, tell him what you need.
Meds? You got it! He’s flying over to get them so fast and returning to your side before you can even blink
You cold? Need a blanket? Come here, let Luci wrap you up in his plethora of thick plush wings 💋
Wanna take a nap? He’s draping blankets over you, fluffing the pillow before tucking it under your throbbing head, makes sure the room is dark and quiet.
Will definitely hum softly to you as you cuddle and rest together.
Lots of soft kisses to your head and face- comes in waves like…he’ll kiss the top of your head once and then a few minutes later, he’s peppering your face in repetitively sweet kisses.
Will also full-on make out with you if that’ll distract you from the pain *wink wink*
Also, a lot of gentle touches, lightly tickling your skin, letting his fingertips wander over any bits of exposed skin he sees.
Might even strip off some of your clothes but strictly for the purpose of exposing more of your skin for him to softly stroke or rub comforting circles on.
Plays with your hair- starts by gently running his fingers through it and eventually ends up giving you a scalp massage that has you falling asleep in his hands.
When/if you get tired of him being clingy or you just want some alone time, please tell him! He’d rather you bruise his ego a bit by telling him you need space than you be even more miserable with him around. If you need a break from him, just say so and he’ll leave you be but he’s gonna come check on you every 15 minutes and ask you like 50 times if you’re mad at him lol
Will happily run off to the kitchen to make you soup or tea, something warm and comforting
One time he accidentally walked in on you taking a nap and when you woke up, at first he was like “Hi, honey. You okay?” And when you explain in a groggy voice that you have a killer migraine and you’re trying to sleep it off, he lowkey gets mad at himself for disturbing you and begs for your forgiveness. No matter your reply, he still asks “Want some company?” Before crawling into bed with you.
Also, one time found you crying on the couch due to the immense pain in your head, the throbbing and aching becoming too much.
Luci dramatically swooped you up in his arms and took you to lay down in bed. Cooed in your ear while wiping your tears away and holding you close to him.
He shed a tear along with you bc oh no his poor baby is in so much pain, it physically hurts his heart
Basically, just the sweetest little sweet pea in the entire Hellaverse, okay? No one in hell could take care of you better than the big boss himself ❤️‍🔥
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undercoverpena · 2 days
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7. honey cream
frankie morales x f!reader | chapter seven of do me yourself
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summary: a meet-cute in a hardware store? impossible, out of the question. except, that's exactly what happens. a need for screws leads you to a broad-shouldered, brown-eyed man who you're sure is about to change your day, never mind your life.
wordcount: 3.9k chapter warnings: frankie calls you 'rainy' (paint-related from chp.1) no other descriptions or name used. no use of y/n. frankie being a good dad. bad tool names. anxious!reader. an: can i just say a massive thank you to all those who show up EVERY SINGLE WEEK. i adore you so much. thank you. if you're new to the ride, also welcome. even if i loved this story so much, i never expected people to love it even half as much as me, never mind the love i keep getting. so thank you.
prev chapter | series masterlist
key: frankie is in bold, you are in italics
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Nice forearm in your story.
Thanks, It’s this guy I met in a hardware store? We’ve been kind of seeing one another.
Oh, tell him he has a nice watch.
I’ve been told to tell you that you have a nice watch.
You’re hilarious.
I try to be.
You can say no to this, but do you want me to call you later?
That’ll be nice. I’ll be working late so I'll take a break when you do.
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Tomorrow, I just need to grab some bits from the store and then I’ll be with you.
Are you sure you want to spend your day off helping me paint?
I was promised to see you in overalls, so yes.
They’re nice, but please lower your expectations.
I bet they look great on your ass.
Everything looks great on my ass.
Including my hand.
Yes, specifically when you slipped your fingers in my jeans pocket on the way to brunch.
I can’t wait to see you.
Drive safely, Butterscotch.
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“I feel bad that your day off is spent painting.”
Flicking the lid off with a screwdriver, Frankie just smiles—eyes looking up at you from under his cap.
When he looks at you, you might as well be a fly irresistibly drawn to the brilliance of it, captivated by it.
He’d come in clothes that were long since paint-splattered. A set, you assume, he wears most times—an over-washed and over-loved flannel over a greying white tee, and a pair of cargos that have more pockets than you know what they could be used for.
It had been more natural when he’d arrived this time. A sweet kiss at the door, a long hug where he walks you in and his heel kicks your door shut. A muttering of 'you smell nice', into your neck—grinning over his shoulder because you’d sprayed far too much of your perfume.
“Don’t—I want to be here.”
“I think I’ll likely apologise another three times, at least, before we’re done.”
Standing, wearing a slightly twinged expression on his face, he steps over the clean trays and folded step ladders. His hand rises, turning the beak of his cap around, before he’s in front of you, staring at you before he kisses you.
Kisses you like he wishes to rid you of your worries and make your guilt wash away. Like he wants to empty your mind of things you’ve once been told, make you forget them, purge them. Fuck, his mouth almost does.
“So, rule of thumb—ceiling, walls and then kickboards, window sills.”
“Did you… Did you really just finish kissing me and immediately talk about painting?”
Grinning, he chuckles, bending down to grab a paintbrush. “Did you want me to linger on why you feel bad, or are you ready to get your hands dirty?"
You hesitate for a moment before taking the brush, fingers brushing over his. “I guess I’ll get dirty, since it’s with you.”
He seems to swallow, gaze holding yours as a soft smile tries to tug at his lips before flattening out to a line. Then, you just watch as he pours the off-white paint into the trays—its thick, glooping contents filling it quicker than you’d banked on, but he took it perfectly in his stride.
The sleeves of his flannel are rolled up, forearms flexing as he tilts the larger tub until he appears content with the measurement in the tray.
You know a thumb covered in paint shouldn’t cause your throat to dry, but it does. Your mind thinking up all the places he can leave a stamp of it, a trail of it, turn you into a map showing where he’s been—over a thigh, collarbone, your —
“Race you to the end of the wall?”
Blinking, finding him already readying his roller on the blank, sun-stained wall.
Before you can respond, he's off. The roller glides smoothly across the wall, leaving a trail of fresh paint in its wake. You laugh, shaking your head at his competitive spirit before joining him, your own brush meeting the wall—cutting in.
In time, the room fills with the rhythmic sound of brushes against the wall, the occasional laughter, and gentle conversations. The room transformed over the hours, looking fresher, already a thousand times better than it had this morning with the patches off filled in holes and cracks.
Taking the brush from your hands, you step back to the middle, looking around, not initially aware of how he’s looking at you. Not until you spot a satisfied smile and a glint in his eye.
“We did good, didn't we?”
You shrug. “Think you could do better—put your back really into rolling next time.”
Shaking his head, he throws your brush into the used tray before he’s grasping, tugging, your body connecting with his in an oomph—his reflexes quicker, arms longer than you’d expected—as laughter escapes out as you slide your hand around the back of his neck.
“Thank you. For helping me.”
“Sure,” he whispers, cheek close to yours, fingers on your hip. “Have I told you how good you look in your overalls?”
Rolling your lips, you slowly turn in his hold—all set to turn his cap for him again. To whisper to him that they’re easy to remove too, that he could slide his fingers up, even slant your mouth back over his again.
But you hear his stomach. It rumbles���practically thunderous.
“I haven’t even offered you food,” you confess, words laced with guilt. “I should make you food.”
“You don’t have to…”
Fingers entwining with his, you pull him—finding him happily following, even as he mumbles about cleaning up, that the paint will dry in the tray. You don’t loosen your hold until the two of you are in the kitchen, a hand needed to open the fridge, both required to pull out some ingredients.
“You cooking for me?”
“I’m going to try, if that’s okay?”
He leans against the counter, watching you with a soft smile.
“I'd love that, baby,” he says, the affection in his voice making your heart flutter like it keeps doing.
Before you’ve even sliced the first vegetable, Frankie excuses himself—a kiss to your cheek, all domestic, normal. It not feeling weird even as he goes back to the “project room” and you hear him tidying.
Because it’s not odd in the slightest him being here.
A thing you turn over as you continue to prepare ingredients, cutting and marinating. By the time he’s returned, sporting an amused smile on his face, you’re about to begin frying things.
“Can I do anything?”
Shaking your head, you glance at him over your shoulder, finding he’s taken up his earlier spot. “Just keep me company.”
And he does. Asking you things, questions—some about your childhood, your family, friends. Every word spoken, he hangs onto. Staring like he’s making notes in his head, committing them to memory, somewhere inside that beautiful, amazing mind of his.
“Should I get used to you cooking if I come round and help you with your project?” he teases, taking a water from the fridge like you’d instructed.
“You better not get used to it,” you retort, throwing a small piece of bell pepper at him playfully. He ducks, laughing. “I batch cook most of the time—easier when you eat for one.”
His eyes follow as you move around the kitchen with a fondness in his eyes, you focusing on not burning anything. Stomach knotting itself when it comes to dishing it up, placing it down, and watching him slide into the stool.
When he takes the first bite, you swear you are frozen—unable to move, or think. Eyes just focused on his, watching, waiting, until you breathe a sigh of relief at the way his eyes light up. “This is really good, baby.”
You can't help but feel a little proud. “Thank you.”
He raises his water in a toast. “To more cooking then,” he proposes, and you laugh, agreeing wholeheartedly.
As you stick your own fork in, it's easy to find comfort in the shared silence, a contentment you continue to be amazed at. The atmosphere all at ease. There's no need for words as you both eat, side-by-side, a relatively normal thing for most, but not for you.
But, none of it feels weird, awkward. It never has—even if part of you continues to wait for it. If anything, it continues to be comfortable, right.
Even as the food effortlessly vanishes off both of your plates, it's not until you've reached your fill that you clear your throat.
“So, how often do you have Luca?”
Chewing his food, he puts down the remainder—wiping his fingers on the napkin. “It’s a weird rota. But it works? I’ll have him in the week for two nights and then overnight on a Saturday one week and then one night in the week the following and then Friday to Sunday, and then I’ll have him for three nights in the week the following. Sometimes, extra if I have time off or I want to take him to see family.”
Nodding, you take a sip of your drink.
“Does that… bother you?”
“No! No, of course not,” you grin. “He’s the most important, in all of this. It was just curiosity, I couldn’t… I couldn’t work out the pattern.”
Chewing his cheek he smiles. “You trying to work out when I’m free?”
Shrugging, you look away, aware of the heat warming your cheeks. “Well, someone did post about brunch on their Stories…”
“I remember someone else posting my forearm on theirs.”
Smiling, you plate your cutlery down. “It’s a very nice forearm.”
Shoulder nudging you, Frankie chuckles—cutlery lined up on his plate, your hand moving to take it. Sliding around the kitchen as he begins debating what part of him will appear next, a thigh, an ankle.
“I can include all of you next time, if you like?” Hand testing the hot, soapy water filling the bowl.
“Yeah?”
Licking your lips, you smile. “I don’t cook for anyone, Morales.”
Shifting to meet your gaze, his eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles. “Is that right, Rainy? I must be pretty special then.”
“You have no idea,” you reply, your voice a mere whisper but the words carry an immense weight, one you suspect has snuck out, and embedded itself into him.
You're quick to turn your back to him, hide the heat and shyness, as you carefully rinse off the dishes. Only hearing the stool shift at the last moment, the sound of his sock-covered feet padding around until he's standing behind you.
His presence is unmistakable, more so when he places his hands on your hips. “I think I'm beginning to,” he murmurs into your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine.
You turn to face him, the plates forgotten in the sink. Looking up into his eyes, seeing a reflection of things fluttering in them.
“You better,” you say, reaching up to gently stroke his cheek, “because I'm not planning on posting anyone else’s arm for a while.”
His grin widens at your words, his hands pulling you closer until your bodies are flush against each other. "Good, because I don't plan on trying brunch with anyone else."
And as he leans down to kiss you, he pauses, mouth hovering over yours. “Speaking of…”
Narrowing your eyes, you retract your head, soap suds sliding off your wrists.
“My friends… they want to meet you.”
His words catch you off guard, your heart pounding in your chest. “Meet...me?” you ask, your voice barely a whisper.
As soon as he confirms with a simple nod, you feel a tightness in your chest. An explosion in your mind. A vortex of thoughts, all overwhelming, non-stop.
Each second you try to breathe, the knot in your chest tightens, sitting, carving a bigger hole where your happiness had just been—
“Yes,” he confirms, his hands soothingly rubbing circles on your hips as though noticing your sudden tension. “I think, maybe, I’ve talked about you too much?”
Running your teeth over your lip, you feel a piece of skin. One sticking up, not as smooth as the rest. Lip balm would solve it, fix it—but you pick at it anyway, pick, pick, pick—
Running your teeth over your lip, you notice a stray piece of skin, protruding slightly, disrupting the otherwise smooth surface. Lip balm would fix it, effortlessly smooth it out—but despite knowing this, you find yourself unable to resist the urge to pick at it. Listening to him as he explains, hearing names, a day suggested. As you compulsively pick, pick, pick—
Until he says your name.
Soft. Gentle. So cautiously spoken it makes your heart do a double take as you taste copper on your tongue.
“Are you sure? I mean, I want to. I just… don’t want to intrude or anything,” you reply, and you know it’s left your mouth shaky, bathed in nerves.
Attempting to shake the suds from your hands, hoping to fling off the worries with it, you find yourself unable to meet his gaze. Mind a flurry, a snowstorm of ifs, buts and maybes.
Because meeting his friends is a significant step—a thing you’re happy about, pleased he feels the same way. Yet, you're also terrified.
Digging your hip into the counter because of it, rooting yourself as you flex your fingers.
“Hey.” His fingers gently lift your chin, forcing you to look up at him; eyes full of warmth and reassurance. "You wouldn't be intruding, baby. They're… they’re like my family and… I want them to meet the person I can’t stop thinking about.”
Shoulders sliding down from your ears, you move to rest your hands on his waist. “You really talk about me that much?”
Scrunching his nose, he smiles. “A bit.”
“Okay,” you agree, your voice sounding more confident than you feel. “I'll meet your friends.”
“Great,” he grins, his relief evident. He pulls you close, hugging you tightly. “Benny—the one who fights—that's who we'll be supporting.”
“When?”
He frowns, but vanishes it away as though realising you hadn't been listening. “Not this weekend, but next. They’re going to love you, I promise.”
“I hope so,” you whisper into his chest, your heart rate trying its best to slow down.
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I need you to tell me what I need to do with the office room, if your friends happen to not like me. They’re going to like you. But if they don’t. Rainy, they will. Introducing you is more so they don’t think I’ve made you up. You have a habit of making up people? No. But apparently, the way I talk about you makes it seem like you’re made up. Why? Because you’re perfect. I am not. You are, but let’s have that battle another day. What are you worried about?
It sits there, in your fingers. The answer to his question.
Foot kicking out at your kitchen island, laptop light illuminating your face as you roll your tongue over your lips.
Foot kicking out nervously at the kitchen island, the harsh glow of the laptop casting an eerie light across your face, you roll your tongue over your lips.
A nervous tic. One you find yourself repeating—letting it trace over the same path again and again, desperately seeking a sense of calm that seems perpetually out of reach.
The question doing its rounds, spinning and swirling: What are you worried about? What are you worried about?
Like a bell has been wrung, it blares out. The answer.
It vibrates through your bones and comes back to you in an echo. Almost a chorus: That I’m not good enough.
A thing you’ve done well to ignore, to stuff down. But now, it's crawling up out of its boxes, the tape having barely kept it down, flapping about in the whirlwind of worries in your head.
As your phone screen dims, memories flood, recalling the evidence. The words flung at you, feelings you’ve wrestled with in bathrooms at loud parties and brutal quiet nights; arguments in places that don’t feel like home and tears against brick walls that cut shoulders.
Unlocking your phone, you tighten your jaw because he's not like them. He's good, kind. A sudden unwillingness to bend to insecurity roaring inside of you as you list every good thing about him; not willing to let a good thing be ruined by things that could never happen.
Sliding your fingers over the screen, you type words that seem easier, less difficult to confess:
Living up to the stories you’ve said. No stories, just a mention of your name and apparently a smile they’ve not seen in a while.
With a mouth-closed grin, you purse your lips.
Reading over the message again and again as your teeth sneak out to bite your lip, thumbs darting out over the phone’s keyboard.
Would it be okay to pick you up? You want to pick me up? I do. Yeah, sure. I was going to offer to pick you up. I think I’d like to pick you up, and if I don’t make a fool out of myself, would you like to stay over? I’ll pack your robe.
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As soon as he throws his bag into the backseat and slips into your car, you feel at ease.
The drive over to grab him had been a combination of whispered mutterings about how it was going to be fine and a mind full of all the ways it wouldn’t be.
It’s further helped when his lips press to your cheek, allowing hands to loosen on the steering wheel, and when that low voice sweeps over you as he greets you—as other words hang there unspoken.
You almost say it on sight, I've missed you.
Because you have. A week and a half of messages and phone calls sufficing, but you’ve missed his presence, his face, the chance to brush your fingers over his cheek.
“You look nice.”
Eyes widening, he stares down at himself, palms brushing out over his thighs. “Me?”
“No, the ghost you brought with you—of course, you.”
Snorting, he fastens his seatbelt. “Says you, hermosa.”
“Smooth talker.”
The drive to the fight continues with similar, gentle teasing, all comfortable conversation filling the vehicle. He begins to fill you in on the new developments in the saga of Luca’s newfound love for blanket forts rendering the living room a disaster and you about the sign-off on the work you'd been worked up over.
As you navigate the roads, excitedly sharing about how you've picked a wallpaper you like, Frankie's warm hand finds a home on your thigh, his thumb idly tracing patterns over the fabric of your jeans as he continues talking.
No smirk, nothing. Just the usual smile, as if he'd done this before.
Yet, he hasn't. Unfamiliar sensations surge through your body, catching you off guard, body all ill-prepared for the way it warms you. It almost urges you to shuffle in your seat so his hand rises north; Electricity crackles along your veins, accompanied by a tightening in your abdomen that refuses to dissipate. And, it only worsens when he coughs and his hand grips you a little tighter.
As more of the cityscape flits past your windows, you steal glances at Frankie. His profile illuminated intermittently by the passing street lights, shadows highlighting the rugged contours of his face.
By the time you're pulling into the parking lot, you wish the drive had been longer. Momentarily, you press your thighs together, for reprieve. Only doing so when his hand moves to open the door, the liveliness and music spilling out onto the sidewalk as he comes around the vehicle to take your hand.
“So, where will your friends be?”
Frankie tightens his hand on yours, leading you, holding the door open. “They’ll be in the locker room. Will is Ben’s non-official trainer.”
Nodding, you smile, letting him lead until the two of you come to a stop at the bar—him asking you what you’d like, giving you a look that says please don’t fight me as he takes out his wallet.
“You not needed there?” Shaking his head, ordering drinks as he faces his head forward but his eyes slide down to you. “And what are you, what's your role?”
“His other non-official, less present trainer.”
“You slacker.”
Shrugging, he shakes his head, paying for the drinks. “I know, so much free time to do it too.”
Grinning, you follow him to a spot out of the line, sliding your arm around his back, curling into him—the ice cubes in your plastic cup colliding in the fizziness of your drink.
“I’m glad you came.”
“Because you missed me?”
His mouth opens, parts—the tip of his tongue peeking out as you feel his chest expand before relaxing. “Yeah. Nine days was too long.”
Biting the inside of your cheek, you slide your hand under his jacket, it taking a moment, more awkward than full of ease before you can fan your fingers out against him.
“Technically, it was five—if you count me half-waving to you when I came in to get a screwy.”
Almost spluttering as he takes a sip, he clears his throat, staring down. “You can’t call it a screwy?”
Narrowing your eyes, smirking away. “And why not, Morales?”
“Because suena mal... dirty,” he argues, trying to suppress a laugh.
Your eyebrow raises in question, but before you can retort, his lips are on yours, effectively silencing you. The place around you is all of a sudden silent, muted—as if no one else is around at all. The ring, the lights, and all of the people blurring into nothing, not as your fingers tease over his chin, as your mouth reminds itself what his feels like.
Pulling back, mouth hovering close to his. “So, what do I need to know about your friends? Outside of the obvious.”
The obvious is that they all served together. Frankie had explained it one night as you cooked for yourself, him on a shelf—face filling the screen as you sliced and brewed on the stove.
It was clinically given, top-level you'd been sure. Just the need to know—the need to understand.
“Well, Ben is loud—but he’s gentle. Will is a bit protective, especially since we've all been through a lot together," he begins, rubbing his thumb along the back of your hand. “But they're good people. They're upfront and honest.”
“Does Harold like them?”
Tutting, he pauses as he lifts the plastic cup to his lips. “The only person Harry likes is you. And his own family.”
“I’ll be sure to drop that in conversation then. Show them I’m one stamp approved already.”
Tilting your chin up, he licks his lips—slowly, intently. “You have nothing to worry about, alright?” You nod, trying to take in his words. “I mean it.”
“Okay.”
Kissing the top of your head, Frankie keeps his arm around you. Even when Benny's name is shouted and the crowd goes wild.
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I think they like me.
Are you texting me from the bathroom?
Maybe. But, I think it’s going well.
Baby, are you peeing and texting me?
No! I dried my hands and then messaged you.
So you’re leaning against a dirty wall texting me.
Are you grinning like an idiot at your phone?
Don’t answer I can see it.
Shut up.
If that’s the grin you wear when I message you, no wonder they wanted to meet me.
Basta!
You're cute when you're flustered. Can see the red climbing up your neck from here.
Come back and keep me company.
Grin a bit more and I might.
Rainy.
Fuck you're handsome, Butterscotch.
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NEXT CHAPTER ->
an: while the meeting happens off-paper (haha wanted to say off-screen) all meetings won't appear like this 👀. we knew they'd love her, and in time we'll see how much. also, her texting him in the bathroom may be my fave thing she's done off her own accord (i am merely just a body and fingers when rainy begins talking to me)
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samandcolby-ownme · 3 days
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Summary: anon request - "can you do a zach one where he like exposes him and readers secret relationship and she just goes with it , like " you weren't so quiet last night " and she just has her jaw dropped and says something back and it ends with smut" 
Warnings: this one shot will contain reader having sexual daydreams during the podcast, those dreams will include, oral (m rec), unprotected sex, the rest will contain Zach's usual banter and fluffiness
Word count: 2.1 k | not edited 
Also - I know it might get confusing, but the italics are what happened the night before, but in the form as if it's happening right now, like you're replaying the night in your mind. Hope that made sense, enjoy! 
╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗
"You want to know what I think is crazy?" Zach asks as his fingers drag up and down your arm. 
"Hmm?" You hum quietly as you keep your head on his chest. You feel him laugh slightly, "That no one has figured us out yet." 
You laugh, moving your head to look up at him, "Well now you just jinxed the hell out of that." 
He shrugs, a smirk on his face, "I mean I like us being a secret and all, but it's so hard for me to not say certain things when you're on the pod with us." 
You nod, "Yeah, I know what you mean." You smirk, "So what, is that your way of telling me you're going to out us at tomorrow's show?" 
He raises his brows, "I'm full of surprises babe. Guess you're going to have to wait and see." 
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
The next day, you're sitting on the red bench, headphones on and you're getting ready to do the show, but your mind just isn't there. 
Instead it's elsewhere. 
Specifically, replaying the time spent with Zach the previous night. 
The way you felt coming back from the restaurant, you needed him, his hands resting on your hips as you unlock your door made you crave him. 
When you finally got the door open, it was like the energy that craved one another clashed, As soon as you push the door open, he spun you around, lips on yours as he backs you into your apartment. 
"Hey." A hand is woven in front of you, "Earth to y/n." 
You look over at Tara and blink as you take your headphones off, "Yeah, hi. I'm here." 
"Where the fuck did you go. You were like-" she mimics how you were staring, "Zoned out." 
You laugh, "Sorry. I'm tired. I was up all night." Zach and Jared walk onto the set, "Oooh. Up all night doing what?" Zach teases and you roll your eyes, "I was coming up with a list of places that've already been to for Sam and Colby." 
Zach sits down and raises his brows, "Wow that was very specific." Zach sighs, placing his headphones on and you can't help but laugh. 
Friends around friends, lovers when it's just you two. 
You lean back, placing your headphones back on and Tara speaks up, "So I have to ask, how does it feel being better than two of the most liked ghost hunters in the world?" 
You laugh slightly, "What do you mean?" 
"I know you do paranormal investigation stuff too, and just the fact that Sam and Colby are coming to you for stuff.. I don't know that just.." Tara laughs and you tilt your head, "Are you just saying that to make a jab at them?" 
She nods and lean in to your mic, "Well then it feels pretty damn good." 
"Alright, alright. Anymore and we'll be scraping your brain off the walls from your head swelling to the point of exploding." Zach tries not to laugh and you shrug, "Hey, I take it when I can." 
You give him a quick and subtle wink then quickly change the subject, "Cat got Zach's tongue so I'll just go ahead and do the intro for him." You laugh, "What's up guys, we're here with Tara, Alyssa, me, Jared and oh, I guess Zach is here too." 
Zach just stares at you and you can't help but laugh. 
"Okay, but I love the fact that she announced Tara and me first." Alyssa laughs and you point to her. Tara nods, "Yeah, I'm going to have to say that we need to all vote to make y/n the person who announces the show." 
"Like a pre-recorded track because there are days she isn't here." Alyssa points out and you nod, "I agree. All in favor." You raise your hand and instantly say, "Three versus two. Girls win." 
"Youre ridiculous. Who invited you here anyway?" Zach rolls his eyes and you furrow your brows, "Um, you?" 
"Can you just like, zip it." Zach motions at his mouth and you smirk, "Make me. Take my headphones away." 
Zach tries not to laugh, "I mean, I can. But you might moan a little." 
"Oh my god. No. No. No." you close your eyes and look away from him, but in secret, you'd be on your knees in seconds for him. 
Zach places his hands on your shoulders, urging you to your knees. You drop down, complying to his every silent request. 
You stare up at him as he shrugs his black jean jacket off, eyes locked on yours as his jaw is slightly slack from your hand sliding over his throbbing cock that's being held back by his jeans. 
"I don't think.. you should say that to our guests?" Jared says with a nervous laugh, "I'm actually surprised you haven't gotten sued yet." 
"Please." Zach shrugs, nodding to you, "She won't sue me." 
Tara points to you, "I think you should just for his reaction. 
You laugh, "Thinking about it." 
You weren't thinking about that at all, Zach undoes his belt, followed by his jeans. The quick sound of the zipper going down causes your skin to perk up with goosebumps, caused by excitement. 
You rise up from your calves, licking your lips as you work fast to free him from his boxers. 
Zach speaking pulls you back into reality, "So now that we're past that embarrassing ensemble.." 
Zach trails off and so does your mind, You loved hearing Zach's little moans and groans as you held his cock with your lips and tongue. 
The way his fingers gentle drug over your head, slowly pulling your hair as his pleasure grew larger, "Fuck." 
Zach didn't really swear in general, so when he did, and it was because of you. It was even fucking hotter. 
You blink, snapping back into reality. 
"So I thought we could talk about something serious today." Zach says and Jared laughs, "Oh no. Someone's getting fired." 
"Yeah it's you." Zach says, pretending to be serious and Jared laughs, "I'd love to see you try, I'll just tell you no and you'll listen." 
You laugh and nod, "No that's so true." 
"Yeah whatever." Zach rolls his eyes, "No I have an exciting announcement." 
Your heart thumps and your head snaps towards him slightly. 
His eyes move to you and he smiles a little bit, "So, I have some news that may shock a lot of people, but I think everyone should know this, from me." 
"What's the fuck is happening?" Tara asks and Zach sighs, speaking quickly, "We're going to be doing a live dropouts show." 
You let out a breath and keep your stare on him, "Wow, Zach. That's great." 
"Better be, because they want all of us who are here right now." Zach gives a thumbs up, "What a relief it was to get that off my chest." 
You laugh slightly as your eyes trail down his neck to his necklace that's lying comfortably on his chest. 
Your back slams onto the bed, Zach's lips kissing over any skin they can reach. You let out a moan as he sucks a hicky into the skin over your hip. 
He kisses up over your boobs and up your neck. He leans up and you feel his cock slip between the folds of your pussy. 
The shiny necklace dangling from his neck as you feel him slide into you fully. You find it so hot when it swings back and forth with each thrust.
"Hey, I can't lie." Jared laughs and Tara cuts him off with a yell, "Say it!" 
You look over, at Tara, laughing as she keeps pointing to jared. You look over at Zach and he gives you a look that would make your legs go weak if you were standing. 
It wasn't a weird look. It was him just staring at you, knowing why you keep zoning out, and he was just making it worse. 
"I liked y/n's intro." Jared sighs and you look over at Jared with a clap, "Thank you." 
"You definitely thought it was better than Zach's intro, right?" Alyssa asks and Jared laughs, "I'm not answering that." 
You yelling with excitement, "Fuck yeah! Because you know that girls are just better than boys!" You motion between you, Tara and Alyssa. 
"Whoa, whoa!" Zach says waving his hand out in front of him a few times, "Settle down. Settle down, I'm getting flashbacks." 
"War flashbacks." Jared snorts and Tara asks with a laugh, "Flashbacks of what?!" 
You look at Zach, laughing and he shakes his head while furrowing his brows, "I don't know what you're laughing about because these flashbacks are of how loud you were being last night." 
It all happened so fast you blank, "What the fuck." 
"What did he just say?" Jared asks, mouth dropped with surprise. 
"Oh yeah, okay." Tara rolls her eyes and as you're still staring at Zach, he tilts his head slightly, giving his brows a quick flick. 
He outted you at tomorrow's show. 
Might as well roll with it. 
"You gonna tell them or you want me to, princess?" Zach smirks and you shrug, letting out a dramatic sigh, "Whatever helps you sleep at night." 
"Oh, you know exactly what helps me sleep at night." Zach winks as you look at him and you shake your head, looking down to rest it in your hand. 
"I can't tell if they're joking." Alyssa laughs and Tara cuts in, "Yeahhh, I mean, okay. I've actually been extremely suspicions about these two for weeks now."
"Oh please tell us what made you think that, Tara." Jared leans in, super invested into the conversation. 
You look up and look from Tara to Zach and he shrugs, "Hit me." He nods to Tara and she smirks, looking between you and Zach, "Well for starters, he stares at her every time she looks away." 
"I like looking at the back of her head. It makes it so I don't have anything mean to say." Zach shrugs and you  just laugh. 
"What else you got, Tara?" Jared encourages and Tara laughs, "Another thing is, they'll stop answering me at both at the same time. Like I'll be texting both of them and then all of a sudden.. radio silence." 
"I have a very strict bed time, Tara." You and Zach both say, just adding fuel to the fire and you just laugh, knowing that you're caught. 
"See!" Tara tells pointing, "See!" 
"Well.. if you don't know you do now." Zach laughs and Jared eggs him on, "Know what? Zach. Care to enlighten us with a perfect confirmation?" 
"What's my lawyer?" Zach yells looking around as he raises his hand. 
"So isn't true? You and.." Alyssa points from you to Zach and you laugh, nodding your head slowly. 
"Wow." Jared says, "I honestly did not expect this is come out onto the podcast today." 
Zach reaches for his water and takes a sip, "Listen, we played dumb, but we knew what we were doing." Zach scoffs, "Alright. You can't tell me that you weren't fooled."
"I knew my suspicions were there for a reason." Tara laughs, "How long?" 
"Two months." You laugh and they don't believe you.  Zach nods, "No she's serious.  It was after the episode with Jake and Johnnie." 
"Oh shit, yeah I guess that was two months ago." Tara nods, "I'm just like.. having a holy fuck moment." 
"Yeah." Zach laughs, "She came to see if I was as rich as I bragged that I was, and I must have passed inspection because she didn't go home that night." 
"Oh my god." You laugh, "That's not.." you shake your head and Jared laughs, "I just.. that really does shock me, like.. y/n. Why him?" 
You shrug, smiling as you look over at Zach. He glances at you and smirks, "What can I say? I'm full of surprises."
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
Thank you for reading! Let me know how you liked it. Love you all! Thank you so much for reading! 
Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!
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woncoyo · 1 day
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☁️⠀࣭⠀𝗌𝗍𝗎𝖽𝗒 𝖽𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖾𝗇𝗁𝗒𝗉𝖾𝗇
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pairing: all members + fem!reader genres: fluff, headcanon, they're silly silly in love. warnings: none. word count: 1948.
author's note: if this headcanon seems familiar to you, it's likely because you came across it on my old blog (chacottone). i'm reposting it with a few changes.
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( HEESEUNG ) Even though he's a terrible liar, he pretends not to know the basics of math just to hear you talk for hours. At times, you stumble over certain concepts, yet he subtly guides you towards the correct answers. Ultimately, he ends up aiding you more than you aid him, and upon realizing this, you say, "I feel so stupid! I'm teaching you everything wrong."
“Of course not, princess! You're smarter than you think," he protests, instinctively placing his hand atop yours. "We're mutually assisting each other, you see?"
You swallow hard, the warmth of his touch lingering as the endearing nickname 'princess' resonates in your mind. Taking command of the situation, Heeseung retreats slightly, straightening himself in the chair beside you. “So, what are we-i mean! where were we?"
"Analytical Geometry," you murmur, indicating a specific passage in the book and inadvertently brushing against Heeseung's fingertips as you withdraw your hand. He attempts to suppress a smile, but fails, turning his head to the side and nibbling on his lower lip.
( JONGSEONG ) No one can ever find out that Jay paid the class representative to pair him up with you on the chemistry project; that would be too embarrassing. If he wanted to spend time with you so badly, he could have just asked you out like a normal person. However, he thought it would be too difficult given your popularity and the numerous guys chasing after you. Jay had to be clever to get to know you better.
"So, about chemical kinetics, what kind of movies are you into?" he asks, acting as if what he just said made any sense. You raise an eyebrow at him, finding it amusing how Jay nervously bites his cheek.
"Romantic comedies, I suppose," you reply with a shrug.
"Cool! Did you know there's a romantic movie marathon next weekend?" he mentions, attempting to maintain a relaxed posture as he scribbles something in his small notepad.
“Actually, I wasn't aware of that," you say, tilting your head to the side. "Why the sudden interest? Planning on asking me out?" Your question catches Jay off guard, and you smile at the effect you have on him.
“Yes... I mean, if you're up for it... no-do you… want to go out with me?”
( JAEYUN ) Getting out of football practice was quite the ordeal for Jake, all because he didn't want to miss your study session at the library. With a physics test looming tomorrow, Jake didn't need to brush up on a subject he already had a firm grasp of. However, he understood your struggles in that area and how tough you could be on yourself when things didn't click. That's why he pretended to feel unwell to leave practice early and "coincidentally" ran into you at the library.
"Sure, you can sit here!" you exclaim, taken aback by his presence. "Thought you'd be at practice.”
"Left early to study for tomorrow's test,” Jake shrugs, pulling up a chair close to yours.
"As if you need it," you tease. "Your grades are always top-notch."
"Yeah, I know," he responds, placing a hand over his heart, oozing confidence, as you playfully nudge his shoulder. "But I meant that I wanted to study with you…"
Your cheeks flush almost instantly, and you try to mask your embarrassment by burying yourself in the book in front of you, murmuring a hesitant "okay, then.”
( SUNGHOON ) He's feeling like the cleverest guy in the world for persuading all his friends to help him orchestrate a plan to be alone with you. It took countless text messages pleading with Heeseung, Jake, Jay, Seonwoo, and Jungwon to create a study group — since that's the only way to catch your attention — and then have them all cancel at the last minute when Sunghoon and you are supposed to meet.
“They’re running late…” you remark, glancing at the clock for the umpteenth time since your arrival.
"They’re not coming anymore," Sunghoon announces matter-of-factly. "Seems like there was some unexpected issue.”
"An unexpected issue involving all five of them at once?!" you widen your eyes in disbelief. "That's so weird."
"Not really," he says, rearranging the books on the table. "These guys are pretty irresponsible when it comes to studying. They're probably off having fun somewhere.
With a furrowed brow and arms crossed, you mull over Sunghoon's statement. Then, an idea strikes you. "We should do the same thing, don't you think?"
Sunghoon promptly closes the book. "You're absolutely right."
"But we also need to do well on Friday's test…" Seeing you hesitate, Sunghoon quickly reassures you, as spending time with you outside of school is something he's been longing to do.
"You'll do great, don't worry," he confirms, "plus, we can always study tomorrow. The good thing is that everyone will come… I guess."
Still feeling nervous, you bite your lower lip, debating whether or not to skip a day of studying. However, Sunghoon's hopeful expression starts to bolster your confidence. "So, what do you want to do?" You ask.
"Jesus Christ! I literally have a list of things I wanna do with you—I mean! To do in this city!"
( SEONWOO ) Respectfully, Sunoo is fed up with hearing about the conservation of mass, but because you're the one explaining, he silently endures. Spending Saturday studying for a test he knows he'll fail wasn't part of his plan, but being with you was, even if it meant sacrificing a night off locked indoors.
"Are you paying attention?" you inquire, noticing your friend's absent-mindedness. "Am I just talking to myself here?"
Sunoo snaps back to attention at your words, attempting to mask his lack of focus when he sees your irritated expression. "I'm paying attention!" he insists.
"What did I just say, then?" you ask, arms folded.
"Um… you were talking about how mass is created and destroyed during a chemical reaction," Sunoo mimics your posture, speaking with false confidence.
You sigh, "I literally said the opposite."
"I got mixed up! I'm just tired…" he reaches out to touch your hand. "Let's do something else, hm?"
"Only after you get this right. Then we can do whatever you want," you state firmly, and your friend grins in agreement.
"You should've said that sooner!”
( JUNGWON ) Your failure in last week's oral exam was the perfect excuse for Jungwon to invite you to study with him. Obviously, the goal isn't just to learn about the properties and graphs of exponential and logarithmic functions; Jungwon truly wants to forge a connection with you.
"Want to make this more interesting?" Jungwon suggests, noticing your disinterest. "We study for fifteen minutes straight, then take a five minute break to get to know each other better.”
"You want to get to know me better?" you furrow your brow, surprised by what he just said. After all, Jungwon is the smart, popular guy everyone admires, so why would he want to get closer to someone like you? His invitation to study together already caught you off guard, but you assumed it was just a gesture of kindness.
"Of course I do!" he says confidently. "I've been wanting to be friends with you since you first arrived at school, but you've always kept to yourself.”
"I'm a bit... reserved," you admit, and Jungwon nods understandingly.
"But that doesn't stop me from wanting to get to know you."
Your cheeks flush, and despite your usual reluctance to open up about yourself, you agree to his proposal. "Sure, let's give it a try.”
( RIKI ) He's on the brink of failing, and you simply can't bear to see your best friend struggle. That's why you scheduled a study session at your house, which didn't sit well with Riki. The reason behind his dissatisfaction lies in the fact that you, indirectly, are to blame for his potential failure.
Every day, you sit facing Riki in class, and every day, he is battling to focus because your captivating perfume and mint lip gloss steal his attention. He gets lost in thoughts of you, and by the time he snaps out of it, class is over. So, under these circumstances, how can he possibly concentrate on whatever you're saying right now when you're so close?
"Do you understand what I said?" you ask, shifting your attention to your friend, who appeared to be listening attentively. "Hmm, seems like it. So, let's have a little quiz!”
Riki takes a deep breath, attempting to refocus on the main subject.
"What's the primary component of plant cells responsible for photosynthesis?" you ask, your tone serious.
"Mint lip gloss," he responds without thinking—or perhaps thinking too much, but about the wrong thing. "No! That's not what I meant to say."
You arch an eyebrow, realizing your friend must be weary from studying. "Need a break? We could play video games for half an hour and then get back to business! But be aware, I'll be tacking on extra study time for it," you warn, rising from your chair.
"I'm screwed.”
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© woncoyo
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Hello! I freaking love your writing. I was wondering if you could write Remus x fem!reader fic where the reader is a little 'keep my feelings to myself' closed off-ish person. She is in a relationship with Rem, she loves him but is scared to tell him that, thinking he might not say it back and one day drunk, she comes to his dorm or smth like that and launches why she loves him and all the little things he does that make her happy and how she is scared of feeling so much about someone. And Remus is just melting in his seat cause he does feel the same and much more towards her. I know this might be too specific so if you want you can change some part for better writing flow.❤️
Tangled Hearts
a/n - loved this request so much, I've been having so much fun writing for remus again lately ♡
pairing - remus lupin x gn!reader
warnings - fluff, alcohol, mention of y/n
wordcount - 1.4k
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You sit quietly in the Gryffindor common room, the crackling fire providing a comforting backdrop to the chatter of your fellow students. Amidst the laughter and animated discussions, you find solace in the dim light, observing from a distance, your thoughts a tumultuous sea of emotions.
Remus, your boyfriend, occupies the armchair across from you, engrossed in a book. His sandy hair falls gently across his forehead, and his warm brown eyes flicker with curiosity as he turns each page. You watch him with a mixture of adoration and apprehension, your heart heavy with unspoken words.
It's been months since you and Remus officially started dating, navigating the labyrinth of emotions that comes with young love. Yet, despite the countless sweet moments you've shared, there's one sentiment that remains trapped within the confines of your chest: the three words you long to say but fear to speak.
You steal a glance at Remus, a pang of longing coursing through you as you imagine the weight of those words hanging in the air between you. But the fear of rejection looms large, a specter haunting your every thought. What if he doesn't feel the same? What if your vulnerability drives him away?
Lost in your thoughts, you barely notice the gentle hand that settles on your shoulder, pulling you back to reality. Sirius offers you a sympathetic smile, his eyes filled with understanding.
"You alright there?" he asks, his voice laced with concern. "You seem a bit distant tonight."
You muster a weak smile in response, offering a noncommittal nod. "Just tired, I suppose," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.
Sirius studies you for a moment, his gaze piercing through the facade you've carefully constructed. He knows you better than most, sensing the turmoil that rages beneath the surface.
"Listen, if there's ever anything you need to talk about," Sirius begins, his tone earnest, "you know I'm here for you, right? You don't have to keep everything bottled up."
You nod gratefully, the weight of his words like a balm to your wounded soul. But even as you offer him a small smile of appreciation, you can't shake the lingering doubt that gnaws at the edges of your consciousness.
As the hours stretch into the night, you remain ensconced in the shadows, your heart heavy with the burden of unspoken words. And amidst the laughter and camaraderie that fills the Gryffindor common room as your friends prepare for the party tonight, the anticipation of the upcoming fun swirls around you, a mix of excitement and trepidation as the evening wears on. 
Your friends buzz with energy, exchanging jests and making plans for the night ahead. Yet, you can't shake the unease that lingers in the pit of your stomach, a silent reminder of the words left unsaid.
Later that night, you find yourself swept up in the revelry, the music and laughter washing over you like a tide. But even as you try to lose yourself in the moment, the weight of your unspoken feelings anchors you to the ground. Was Remus waiting for you to tell him? Would he pull away if you didn’t? Or would your admission drive him away because he doesn’t feel the same way?
Hours pass in a blur of dancing and laughter, time and drinks slipping away unnoticed until the room begins to blur around the edges. You've had one too many drinks, the alcohol coursing through your veins and dulling the edges of your worries.
In a haze of drunken determination, you stumble away from the crowd, your feet carrying you in the direction of Remus's dormitory. Each step feels like a battle against gravity, your mind swimming with thoughts and emotions too turbulent to contain.
Your boyfriend had complained about a migraine not long ago. You had instantly gotten up from your seat next to Lily to go lie down with him, but he had told you not to worry about it and have fun, glad to see you let a little loose for once and confident that his friends would keep an eye on you. Unbeknownst to him, Sirius was way past thinking clearly and the two of you had gone all out at the drinks table after he left.
Finally reaching Remus's door, you fumble with the handle, your fingers clumsy from the alcohol. With a sigh of relief, you push the door open, stumbling into the dimly lit room beyond.
"Y/n?" Remus's voice cuts through the fog in your mind, filled with concern as he rushes to your side. "Are you alright?"
You try to muster a response, but the words elude you, slipping through your fingers like grains of sand. Instead, you collapse onto his bed, your head spinning as Remus kneels beside you, his eyes clouded with worry.
"Merlin, you're drunk," he murmurs, his voice tinged with both amusement and concern. "What happened?"
You open your mouth to speak, but all that emerges is a garbled mess of words, your thoughts jumbled and incoherent. With a sigh, Remus reaches out, gently brushing a strand of hair from your face as he surveys you with a mixture of fondness and exasperation.
"I think it's time you got some rest," he says softly, his hand lingering on your cheek.
You nod, the warmth of his touch sending a shiver down your spine as you sink into the comfort of his presence. 
Remus helps you out of your shoes and covers you with a blanket, tucking you in with a tenderness that melts away the last of your worries. As he settles onto the bed beside you, you can't help but revel in his warmth, the steady rhythm of his breath a soothing melody in the darkness.
For a while, you lie in silence. But as the alcohol dulls your inhibitions, a sense of urgency gnaws at the edges of your consciousness, urging you to break free from the shackles of silence.
"Remus," you whisper, your voice barely above a breath as you turn to face him, your heart pounding in your chest. "I... I need to tell you something."
Remus meets your gaze, his eyes soft with concern as he reaches out, his hand finding yours in the darkness. "What is it, love?" he asks, his voice a gentle caress against your skin as he presses his lips to your forehead.
You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for the vulnerability that comes with laying your heart bare. "I... I love you, Remus," you confess, the words tumbling from your lips like a prayer into the night. "I love you more than I can put into words, and... and I'm sorry for not saying it sooner."
Remus's heart skips a beat at your words, the weight of them sinking deep into his soul. He watches you with an intensity that makes your breath catch in your throat, his eyes shimmering and a soft smile playing on his lips. Your breath catches for a moment, the feeling of regret quickly washing over you, but instead of rejection or hesitation, you feel the warmth of his hand tightening around yours, his touch a silent reassurance, urging you to keep talking.
"I love the way you always have a book tucked under your arm, the way your eyes light up when you talk about something you're passionate about," you confess, your voice trembling with emotion. "I love the way you look at me like I'm the only person in the room, the way you make me feel safe and loved."
You don’t give him the chance to respond, a sense of vulnerability creeping in, filling you with a fear you can't quite name. "I'm scared, Remus," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper as you meet his gaze, your eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "Scared of feeling so much about someone, scared of what might happen if I lose you."
Remus's heart aches at the raw honesty in your words, his own fears and insecurities laid bare before you. With a soft sigh, he pulls you into his arms, holding you close as he presses another tender kiss to your forehead.
"I'm scared too, love," he murmurs, his voice trembling with emotion. "But you have no idea how long I've waited to hear those words from you. I love you, too, more than anything in this world."
The tenderness in his voice sends a surge of warmth coursing through you, melting away the last of your doubts. You reach out, cupping his face in your hands as you press your lips to his, pouring all of your love and longing into the kiss.
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fizzfags · 3 days
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EMIZEL/FIZZFANGS ANALYSIS
the long awaited. under the cut bc its really long and im fucking insane. (this does not necessarily focus on them as a romantic pairing, just the way they interact with each other. interpret it in whichever way is most compelling to you/what you see fit.)
EMIZEL:
the most notable thing about emizel is the fact that he is mainly motivated by status and climbing the social hierarchy in whatever situation he is currently in. in his human life, that was climbing the ranks within the demons. after he dies, he doesnt really understand the social hierarchy within vampire society, but he does understand that its very important to at least be in good standing.
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(episode 2)
he has an inherent disrespect towards authority, also seen with his father, (which i will get to later) as seen with this interaction with arthur. he's insistent on meeting the important figures within vampire society in la, and prioritizes this over, say, learning how being a vampire actually works. in the same episode, he also tells arthur "It just seems like we have similar goals, you know? I clearly don't know what I'm doing in vampire society. You do. So I need to learn. And you did say you'd take responsibility for teaching me." keep in mind that this is only a week or so after he was turned. things become interesting when we see him interacting with said important figures.
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(episode 4)
in a stark contrast to arthur, hes relatively polite and respectful. obviously, this is to build favor for himself within the community of important and respected figures. also notable, he is lying out of his fucking ass. this is probably my biggest piece of evidence against the people that genuinely believe that emizel is unintelligent, because he clearly knows what hes doing.
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as stated in the tweet, he gets killed/injured makes stupid decisions so often because he's used to operating under the rules of the demons and normal human society, and he hasnt learned that consequences and rules are enforced much harsher in regards to vampires. his rash and impulsive personality/decision making skills/opposition to authority figures that he doesnt like just isnt compatible with vampire society, and this leads to him getting hurt (see any and all of his interactions with edward)
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(episode 4)
so, we know he lies to get what he wants (status, respect, etc) and doesn't feel bad about it. now is time to address his upbringing. obviously, it was not great. he has a very negative relationship with his father, and it wouldn't be too big of a stretch to describe it as potentially abusive. "Listen, I've lived with this guy my whole life. He's always kind of been a piece of shit to me, so do what you want - I couldn't care any less. But, if you're making me choose between my wellbeing and his, then I'm always going to choose me. Besides, I can't do any of that mind shit anyways." (episode 2) we can most likely assume he joined the demons relatively young, as a way to escape or have a place to stay other than his dads house. this is also probably the source of his opposition to authority, especially those that act negatively towards him.
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(episode 6)
episode 6 is very interesting. emizel risks his life to go back to the unseen one to ask a very specific question: "why did i get abandoned with my father, and why did shilo get to stay?" also noting that his most precious memory is one he had with the demons. when shilo asks about this question, he gets very defensive, because he knows that shilo would have an answer for him, but its not the answer he wants. if he tells them, they wont let him go back to the unseen one. of course, his question is left unanswered, and he asks it again in episode 10.
another very interesting thing happens in episode 10: he willingly gets rid of all memories of his father. he had a lot of other things he could have given up, but he specifically chose his father. with the definite negative impact his dad must have had on him, and how highly emizel prioritizes strength, it wouldnt be a stretch to say that he viewed the trauma of living with his father as a weakness, something to get rid of instead of grow and heal from. it would take time, a resource he isn't willing to share.
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so, why is emizel so motivated towards power and status? with all this, the answer is pretty obvious: he wants to be able to build the life he was never able to have. power and status means money means opportunities means choices means a better life. he wants an escape from la, from his father, from everything he's had to deal with growing up. hes constantly reminding himself that its not fair, its not fair that shilo got to live that way, its not fair he was abandoned and stuck here. so he wants to make it fair for himself and the rest of his posse. those he considers his family. his jealousy motivates him.
so of course a wrench is thrown in everything when he loses that emotional connection to most of his friends (except theo. which i will get to) and finds himself just not caring anymore. the thing hes built his life around, spent years climbing the ranks - all for nothing. but what else can he do but continue on. find another distraction, find another goal.
THEO:
we don't know much about theos past other than he (supposedly) lives in the suburbs and has rich parents. (referenced in episode 8) though this is debatably canon, i think its interesting if it is because it brings up a lot of questions. most notably, why did he join the demons? the most obvious answer is that it's the same as emizel: his parents suck. though of course none of this is canon, so moving onto the things that are.
the first major event that happens to him is emizel being turned. he sees emizel less, "No shit, really? You know Emizel? How is he keeping up? He's kinda, been disappearin' every night." (episode 2) and we can assume emizel is a big part of his life. (which i will get to later) and then, thanks to shilo, a core aspect of his personality is stripped away. his entire life is essentially turned on his head, and he can feel something missing. so, as seen in episode 5, he turns to alcohol. its no surprise why, he's lost the sense of normality, his routine, everything he was used to. so he may as well do this. a lot of theos more interesting aspects only really show when hes interacting with emizel, so time to get to the fun part.
FIZZFANGS AS A WHOLE:
a very interesting thing is that emizel and theo act very differently when talking/interacting with each other than any other character. dialogue-wise, they both talk a lot faster and "messier" around one another, interrupting themselves and eachother to finish each others thoughts.
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(episode 3)
just by their conversations, you can tell they're very close. this particular instance also has two other interesting things in it: theo asking what he can do to help emizel, and condi specifying that theo would be the only person emizel would tell about being a vampire. to address the first part, here is a complete list of all the times theo asks emizel what he should do/what he should do to help/etc (and this is an incomplete transcript, so ive probably missed a couple.)
"Alright, you lead the way man, let's do it." (ep 1)
"What's going on here? What do I do? What do you want me to do, man?" (ep 1)
"No man! I'm not leaving you, man! I can take him. I can still take him." (ep 1)
"I'm not leaving you, man!" (ep 1)
"Well, how can I help you with the non-soda related-?" (ep 3)
"Yeah! I mean... What should I do first?" (ep 3)
"So you just let me know whenever you need? I got you, bro." (ep 3)
"So, uh… Anything I can help with?" (ep 5)
"Don't worry, man. I got you. Where am I taking you?" (ep 5)
"So, um… how, c- how can I help you, man?" (ep 8)
this fucking crazy interaction:
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(episode 3)
so it goes without saying that theo would do anything for emizel. and he does, he stays in the alley even after he gets hurt, he stays even after he watches emizel die. and when emizel crawls over to him, dazed and hungry for blood, he doesnt run. he only runs after emizel tells him to. another really important thing about their relationship is the fact that they're both a constant in each others lives.
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(episode 8)
its kind of like they sort people into two boxes: "theo/emizel" and "everyone else." and the other will always be their highest priority. emizel drives to the other side of la just to see theo. after emizel dies in the club, his first instinct is to go find theo. theo is the only person that the unseen one appears as to him. in episode 8, the first step to his plan is finding theo.
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(episode 6)
even if he hadn't just lot a good amount of emotional connection to the rest of his friends, i think he would still be a lot more urgent to go save him. and again, his first thought is to check if theo is there. if theo's okay, if he's safe.
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(episode 5)
and theo does this too. he insists that emizel is his only friend, the only one he trusts. speaking of trust, that is the most crucial aspect to their relationship. they trust eachother a sickening amount, they regularly put their life in the others hands. when emizel drinks theos blood, its not "is he going to hurt me?" its "how can i make this the safest?" because theo trusts emizel not to hurt him, even after knowing he's killed ~12 people.
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(episode 3)
and here, emizel trusts that theo loves him enough to be okay with this. note that arthur doesn't even bring up love, emizel is the first to. arthur only brings it up after emizel says that. because emizel knows that theo loves him and trusts him, emizel knows that theo would do anything for him.
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(episode 9)
and emizel, notorious for not letting anyone close enough to hurt him, tells theo that if he wants to, not needs, wants, he can kill him. that theo can kill him, if he wants. because emizel doesn't fully trust himself alone, but he trusts himself when he's with theo.
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and theo trusts emizel too. despite seeing what vampires can do in a frenzy, he trusts that emizel wouldn't hurt him, just as emizel trusts that theo would stop him before anything could ever happen. and emizel is a notorious liar, so we can assume that he doesn't/wouldn't lie to theo, which would explain why theo trusts him so much.
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basically, they'll always be there for eachother and theo would do anything for emizel and emizel will always come back to theo in the end and they love eachother and despite everything they are together. theyre completely inseperable.
tl;dr: emizels main MOTIVATION is status, while the most IMPORTANT thing to him is theo
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who sleeps in the dog beds?
i'm just thinking about the cavalier cots, and how all the characters used/responded to them.
(note: i know for a fact i've seen at least one other post about this, but i do not specifically remember the contents of that post. so if i do some plagiarism here, i would like to apologize and assure you that it's accidental.)
so.
2: it's judith and marta. obviously they use the cavalier cot precisely as intended. even if judith secretly cherishes fantasies of marta bending her over the edge of the master bed, they use the cavalier cot as intended.
3: obviously it goes without saying that the tridentarii share the master bed. i think on paper the cot belongs to naberius and he does sleep in it occasionally, but i also think when they're mad at him they make him sleep on the floor.
4: this is the only one i waffled on a bit. the conclusion i've come to is that, for the first few nights, jeannemary took the cot and isaac slept in the master bed like you're supposed to, because that's the kind of pair they want to be. but after the fifth died i think they started cuddling up together in the master bed, when they slept at all.
5: they're married. it would be pretty weird actually if magnus slept in the cot.
6: we have canon confirmation that the cot is used for storage, which means cam and pal almost certainly share the bed. no one is shocked.
7: gonna say n/a for the seventh because i doubt that the shambling corpse of protesilaus the seventh, ya know, sleeps. but i will say that, if the real pro and dulcie made it to canaan house, she would sleep alone in the bed. not out of any power dynamic, just due to protesilaus's sense of chivalry. she's sick, she needs the more comfortable situation. i think dulcie would feel a bit guilty about it, but pro would insist.
8: do i even need to include the 8th on this list. either they use the cot as intended or they both sleep on the floor, there are no other possibilities.
9: no speculation here, we know how it went down.
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moonstruckme · 2 hours
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request for Remus x reader, or poly!marauders x reader - A reader who seems more dominant in everyday life (managing group projects, generally independent, being a leader, etc.) maybe she's an older sibling or has parents that aren't all that responsible so she's had to take on that role.
But she settles into a more submissive energy with her partner(s) because she feels safe to do so, and lets them take charge. sorry if that's too specific! I hope it makes sense
no stress if this isn't your jam <3
Soft dom Rem you will always be famous <3 Thanks for requesting lovely!
modern au
Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 651 words
“No, yeah, I think that’s a good idea.” You flash your boyfriend a terse smile as you come in the door, phone held between your face and your shoulder. Remus steps forward to take your bag from you, and you mouth a thanks as you set down your keys. “That sounds like it would work fairly easily with my current plan, I wouldn’t mind incorporating that. No—of course—no worries, I appreciate your help.”
Remus starts to ease you out of your jacket, and it’s a struggle to keep from sighing at the casual care in his touch as you continue talking to the person on the other line. “Okay, are you free to meet on Thursday to finalize things?” You listen. Nod. “Perfect. I’ll get in contact with the others and figure out a time that works.” 
Remus hangs your jacket over a chair and goes to sit on the couch, motioning for you to follow. You make a gesture for one second and take your planner from your bag, grabbing a pen and taking the cap off with your teeth. “So you definitely can’t do after four? No, that’s cool, I’m just making sure.” You scribble down a couple of time ranges. “I’ll get back to you with what the others say. Okay, thanks! Talk soon.” 
You end the call with a sigh, leaving your planner faceup on the table so you’ll remember to call the others later. Remus waits until you’re looking at him before patting his thigh. 
Something unravels in you as you walk over to him obediently, settling yourself in his lap. 
“Hi,” you say, wrapping your arms loosely around his neck and laying your head on his shoulder. 
“Hi.” A bit of bemusement makes its way into Remus’ tone at your obvious relief. He rests a hand on the small of your back. “Long day, sweetheart?” 
You hum. “Not bad. I just have this headache that won’t go away, so that made it feel longer.” 
Remus tuts, his other hand coming up to cup the back of your head protectively. “Why’s that, hm?” 
“Dunno,” you exhale, snuggling into him. “It’s getting better already, though.” 
“Hm.” He sounds dissatisfied. A second later, he’s holding you securely to his back, tipping you both forward as he reaches for the coffee table. You hear ice clinking. “Drink this.” 
Reluctantly, you take your face from his shoulder to accept the water bottle. It’s his, nearly full and ice cold. Remus strokes your hair as you sip from it, eyes soft with approval. 
“That’s enough managing people for today,” he says, not unkindly. “You’ve already done most of the work, you can send a text and let them coordinate their own meeting time.” 
You frown, taking your lips from the water bottle. “I would, but they’ll never actually respond if it’s in a group chat. Nobody replies if I don’t message them individually.” 
“They’ll have to figure it out.” He shrugs insouciantly. 
You feel your eyebrows pinch, another argument rising to your tongue, but it evaporates when Remus wraps a long-fingered hand around your jaw. 
He tilts your chin up towards him. “They shouldn’t need you to take care of everything in order for it to get done,” he says sternly. “If they start calling you again tonight, I want you to send them to voicemail. Understand?” 
“Yes,” you reply automatically, and Remus releases your chin as you sigh, letting you ignore the water bottle for a minute so you can fold yourself back into him. 
“Good.” He turns his head into yours, kissing your temple. “You were never going to get rid of this headache if you let them keep pestering you all night, dove. They’re like flies.” You laugh a little, and Remus scratches at your scalp rewardingly. “You can text them in a little bit. Let’s just stay here for a minute, yeah? Try to get you relaxed.”
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