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random2908 · 6 months

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At work they seem to think I'm an electrical engineer. I'm just. Just so baffled by this. If there's one thing I'm not, surely it's that.

Like, ok, the mechanical engineers think I'm a mechanical engineer, and that's fine. The bosses think everyone is a mechanical engineer, or can be, given half a chance. They think the actual mechanical engineers--the ones with masters degrees in mechanical engineering--are simply the most experienced, but that anyone else could do their job slightly worse but basically successfully. But the mechanical engineers treat me like I'm one of them in a way they don't with other physicists, trust me with tools that they wouldn't trust others with, one of them even gave me admin privileges to some equipment that they won't give my supervisor admin privileges to. Apparently they thought I was going to be working 3/4 time as a physicist and 1/4 time as a laser engineer when I was hired; my previous employer killed that possibility (the one real concession he got with his threatened lawsuit was that I'm not allowed to work on the insides of any lasers for two years) but that's still how they think of me, as basically one of them. But that's just the mechanical engineers who see me that way.

When I applied I said I had mechanical engineering experience and software experience. I hate software, but you've gotta put that in your resume, if you can do it even a little bit. My supervisor remembered that and took it seriously, and I do actually do some software engineering when I have to, but the bosses mainly don't want me working on software.

But somehow the bosses think I'm an electrical engineer, instead. That I should be a major bridge between the electrical engineering department and physics. That that's my rare expertise rather than (in my opinion) my most embarrassing incompetence, the one thing I try to avoid having come up in job interviews because I can't find a positive spin for it.

I mean. It's kind of good, because the company president sees himself as being an electrical engineer as well as a physicist. So he's like, oh, we have this extra competency in common! And it's also kind of good that the skillset that I'm the least secure about, other people have convinced themselves that I'm good at--although I think that's partly because they haven't really asked that much of me, and partly because I know a bit about rf/mw. But, like, I can barely design an inverting amplifier or a low pass filter and then put it together with large components from a kit (although it'll look reasonably nice if I do, because my soldering is decent). And I've only actually laid out a PCB for manufacturing exactly once in my entire life. But it's, idk, weird. I rarely get anything that looks like imposture syndrome, but I can feel it creeping in a little bit here. (Except, of course, it's justified.)

#you may wonder then: if they see me as an electrical engineer surely that implies they're assigning me electrical engineering projects #so how do I get those done in such a way that the bosses are pleased with me?#because surely they're pleased with me if they've--after 10 months of employment--convinced themselves that I can do this?#well: I delegate these tasks to one of the actual electrical engineers rather than doing them myself #(which is the same thing my supervisor does--but unlike the bosses I don't think my supervisor thinks I'm an electrical engineer)#(then again the bosses think my supervisor is this superstar who's excellent at literally everything #so I guess this MUST be a winning strategy)#the engineers are considered more or less support staff to the physicists so the electrical engineer that I'm delegating to #sees picking up assignments like this from physicists who don't want to do it themselves as a core part of his job #rather than feeling that I'm taking time away from his own projects or something #I don't know how the bosses see it though if they think this shows MY competence as an electrical engineer

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svtskneecaps · 1 year

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i always know i’m getting stressed when my comfort fic becomes “time travel fix-it” adjacent. like honestly when i put that tag back in the ao3 include filters that should have been a red flag.

#i also know i'm getting stressed because i'm starting to do quirky shit #like naming one of my wip documents 'the inside of my head sounds like screaming'#plus i just. have the insatiable urge to DO SOMETHING but that something is none of the things i can think of to do #even the unproductive ones. even the productive ones. it's not that. i need to DO SOMETHING but my body and mind can't decide on what #i'm running out of time. i have a deadline. the deadline has always been tangible and yet somehow it never was.#i have an exact date and somehow that's still nebulous and ephemeral #i am so tired #how do i convince someone i'm hireable when sometimes i'm still trying to convince myself #like i would love to tell these people that i am a WHIZ i am a GODSEND like if i don't know how to do it point me at the documentation #like i'd love to tell them all of that but the minute i look at a job application suddenly i'm questioning everything i thought i Knew #like i'm handed a school assignment and i'm like yes. this i can do. idc. it'll be done and i'm gonna get a damn A #why is this different. like literally why would it be that different. they say 'do this thing' and then i do the fucking thing.#that's life. that's work. that's what i've been told. why am i so scared. why am i not sure i can do it.#like i CAN do it that's what we've been fucking preparing for #i have As!!! As!!!!! they emailed me about graduating with distinction!!!!#i wasn't even trying that fucking hard!!!! this is my normal tryhard!!!!!#why am i so scared a job won't want me. when they're asking for fresh faced college grads.#i'm so tired. i have a headache. i am so afraid. i just need a job. literally one.#i am so scared of the mess i am going to become once i cross that stage #i am so. terrified. i wish i could anticipate graduation like everybody else in my design project.#the future has teeth. and my only option rn is just. bite it first. but i don't think i've ever been that violent.#i'm not ready #i am so scared #not kpop #shut up vic #negativity

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actualtoad · 2 years

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i stayed after school but im leaving already. some random kid showed up and was there for a while so it wasn’t a good time really. and when i only get to stay after until 3:30 it hardly makes anything better than going home. i just feel bad for imposing myself

#i don’t want to go home #i should have told my mom to pick me up at 5 #this is nothing. why did i even bother #idk. me and my teacher talked about this summer and how im going to be trying to work a lot #he says i shouldn’t overwork myself like that. and i said i need to if i want to go to college #and he said that i shouldn’t even be trying to pay for college tuition and what i should be focusing on is money for living expenses in my #sophomore and junior and senior years. he says i should only do room and board for one year #and i should be saving for apartment expenses later down the line and don’t even think about paying off tuition until way after i graduate #and he said the universe will always provide. idk if im very convinced about that one #anyway we talked about that a little and then i brought up how im not good at keeping up with school #and he ended up saying i should probably work on my one assignment #and so i did and now im almost done. and somewhere within there some random kid showed up he had my teacher last year i think? or something #and im not good at talking when there’s more than one people in a room with me and so i just did my homework and was quiet #and my teacher started going home at 3:30 #so now im here. i left the classroom and now im just at school #since i don’t have a ride here yet. im not sure when my mom is gonna come get me #probably soon. and we have to get groceries on the way which i don’t really want to #but whatever. she’s giving me a ride #anyway i didn’t tell mr h about my concerns about the summer #i might still bring it up sometime. but i cant stay after tomorrow #and then it’s the last week of school and im really nervous about it being the last week of school #i want to go home but i don’t have the kind of home i want to go home to!!!!#and i don’t know what to do and that’s why im stuck like this #my mom is on her way to pick me up so i’ll be leaving soon #but yeah. idk. staying after was good i guess but i just don’t want to go home #im so scared of not having this option anymore

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chaoticeddie · 5 months

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last assignment submitted with 6 minutes to the deadline ✌

#bad decisions made the last couple months lol #I signed up for four of these half credit courses for this semester #cause I got tuition assistance for them and they're related to my job and I figured I could do them at work #but then we got super busy at work and I didn't want to do it during my free time #of course then it was december 6 and I hadn't even started the last one #so I stayed up for 42 hours to get it done #definitely going to bed early tonight I'm so fucking tired #I only got 5 hours of sleep last night after submitting that last assignment #never doing this again lmao #but i got it done!!#although this isn't going to help me to convince myself that I can't wait until the last minute #considering I left this to the last minute and somehow got it done

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thewordypeach · 1 year

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Milk

Milk (Cream)

pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader word count: 3.3k warnings: 18+, NSFW!!!!, smut! smut! smut!, no use of y/n, unprotected p in v = creampie, fingering, slight orgasm count, oral fixation??, titty sucking (lactation kink), fingering, implied breeding kink?!? summary: Joel doesn’t have to worry about getting you pregnant because the damage is already done. author's note: i should be studying for my finals next week but joel miller sucking titties is obviously more important, and i just couldn't help myself! i just had to write it!!! the result? it's hot. maybe too hot - can you handle it? i know i couldn't. xoxo the wordy peach <3

“Only nine weeks left!” Ellie says excitedly, peering at your protruding stomach with wide eyes of wonderment. She can’t wait to meet her little sister or brother, and each week since announcing your pregnancy, Ellie crosses off a week in her little calendar.

Fondly, you smile at her. She’s been your saving grace during this pregnancy - distracting you with every question possible. She even managed to get it out of you when you and Joel convinced the damn thing (“It was that night at the stables, wasn’t it?”)

“Nine weeks,” She repeats with a confident nod; she glances at you, a single eyebrow raised, “Have you looked at the list of names I gave you?”

You let out a chuckle, nodding, “Yes, Ellie - I look at it every night,”

Her eyes widen, “Every night?”

“Every damn night,” Joel grumbles as he walks into the room. He’s exhausted from the extra shifts he’s been putting in because he wants time off for the baby. With tired, bleary eyes, Joel looks at Ellie, “Shouldn’t you be at school?”

She glares at him, points directly at your belly, and speaks with conviction, “Well, technically, I am in health class, and if I have to learn about procreation, Joel, I want her to teach me,"

Exasperated, Joel sighs. He shakes his head with frustration, and briefly, you can see the hint of annoyance on his tired face. He looks at Ellie with his eyebrows knitted together - she knows better than to argue with him. She purses her lips into a thin line and begins gathering school supplies. Ellie ignores Joel and starts idly chatting about her day and her plans.

She’s looking forward to the new reading assignment and asking if you’ll help her later with something. You rub your belly and nod, “Of course, Ellie - you know where I’ll be,”

A flicker of concern mixed with panic crosses her face. She glances at you; you know she’s asking if you’ll really be here when she returns. Ellie confirms, a slight wavering in her voice, “You’ll be here, right?”

You feel a pang of empathy for her. The world you live in is uncertain - even here, in Jackson, there’s no guarantee of safety. You understand her fear, and reassuringly, you tell her, “Yes, Ellie - I’ll be home all day,”

She nods, and her shoulder’s visibly relax at your confirmation. But before leaving, Ellie just has to turn to Joel and says, “She isn’t feeling good today, so don’t be a dick - or else I will know, and you’ll have to deal with me,”

As Joel sips his water, Ellie shoots him a stern look. Despite what your partner likes to think, you both know Ellie is in charge. Her gaze holds a silent warning, and you stifle a chuckle, watching as she finally leaves the house. Once the door is closed, silence falls between you and Joel. It’s tense; his eyes penetrate you, noting your skin's paleness and its sickly sheen of sweat. Usually you’re glowing -

“What’s wrong?” Joel asks in that demanding tone of his.

You sigh, shaking your head, “It’s nothing,”

“Babe,” Joel warns, and you hear him shuffling over before the chair next to you pulls out, and he’s sitting there. He places a hand on your thigh and repeats his question more gently this time.

“I’m…” You think about the right words, carefully selecting them, “Uncomfortable,”

Confessing this to your partner is almost embarrassing. Maybe it’s his rough exterior that makes you feel like this. Joel, who is waiting patiently, peers at you. His eyes soften, and he looks at you with such tenderness. You’ve been missing these moments because he’s never home anymore.

He presses, “C’mon, darlin'… tell me what’s wrong,”

Your cheeks flush pink, and after a minute or two, you admit: “My boobs hurt,”

Joel gives you an incredulous look, and his cheeks blush too. His gaze turns to your breasts - even he can’t deny how much they’ve grown in the past few weeks. Joel knows they’re swollen with milk for the incoming baby, but he doesn’t understand how uncomfortable you are. He probably never will because, biologically, he’s a man.

He watches as you reach up, adjusting your tits, groaning out a slew of complaints: “My nipples are so fucking sensitive and hard all the goddamn time! I feel like I’m in that stupid Austin Power movie with the fembots and their machine gun titties,” Joel knows the movie you are referring to, and he can’t help but chuckle and hearing this makes your eyes narrow at him.

“Are you seriously fucking laughing at me, Joel?” Your voice is emotional, and you attempt to stand, but it’s useless. Your stupid round belly makes it impossible to do anything, and sadness floods your hormonal body. You whine, “I am so fat -”

Joel shakes his head, watching as your face goes through several emotions simultaneously. There’s not much he can do, but he does reassure you that you are not fat - “You are pregnant,”

“Yeah, and whose fault is that?” You grumble, arms crossing over your chest. You wince because you’re nipples feel like they’re on fire, and you feel like they’re about to burst at any second. You wiggle uncomfortably and pout at Joel. He’s thinking of ways to help and can only think of a single thing that might help but is hesitant about bringing it up.

“What if…” He trails off, swallowing the dry lump growing in his throat, “What if I help… relieve some of that pressure?”

Your eyebrows furrow together, confused. “How?”

“Umm,” He glances around. He knows it’s just the two of you, but he wants to make sure because he’s about to suggest something crazy. His voice drops an octave, suggesting, “I can milk you,”

Your jaw slacks, and you hiss, “Like a cow?”

“N-no!” Joel sputters, hands waving aimlessly around, but it dawns on him it’s exactly like that, and sheepishly, he says: “Okay, yeah… it might be similar to that,”

“Joel,” Your voice wavers, hot tears swell in your eyes. You feel stupid! And your emotions won’t stop. You know he’s just trying to help, but dammit! Joel just called you a cow - “I can’t believe you think I’m a cow,”

Joel gives you an apologetic look. He’s sympathetic to your situation; he knows you don’t mean to be this hormonal, and he knows it’s his child doing this to you. He places a hand on your belly and gently rubs the fabric of his stretched-out shirt (the only one that fits!). He leans over, “Darlin’… you’re not a cow. You’re growing a baby. And I think, from what I read, that your milk ducts need to be expressed,”

“What does that mean? Expressed? Are you going to suck the milk out, Joel?”

Joel's cheeks redden, and the sultry tone in your voice surprises him. He thinks he has imagined it, but then, Joel sees how your eyes darken into a lustful frequency. He reads your message loud and clear.

Without hesitation, Joel captures your jaw between his rough fingers and kisses you. It’s sweet. Gentle. Exactly what you need to forget your frustration with him. But of course, you want more. You deepen the kiss, swiping your tongue across Joel’s lower lip and dipping your tongue into his mouth. Ever so slightly, he groans. He loves it when your forward.

You’re leaning over, as far as you can with your belly, and place your hands onto Joel’s jean-clad thighs. You must hold onto something for balance because your stupid belly messes with your center of gravity. You have yet to get used to it. You’re trying to climb into Joel’s lap, but it’s useless. You’re struggling to lift your body into his, and you pull back, huffing in frustration.

“This stupid belly!” You mutter while rubbing it. Joel finds your annoyance cute, and despite his best effort, Joel’s cock is already stirring inside his pants. It’s been a while since you two had sex, and today is the day that he’s going to fuck you after weeks of hiatus.

“Babe, it’s not stupid,” Joel coos and helps you stand. Your belly knocks into his, and it makes him smile. His teeth flash, and the skin by his eyes crinkles with delight. He can’t believe he’s going to be a father again. He can’t wait to meet his little one. But, for now, Joel must give you some relief because it is his fault that you’re in this position. He’s the one who kept pumping his seed into your womb.

Joel knew the consequences of not using a condom, and here he is - reaping what he sowed. He begins leading you to the bedroom, insisting, “Let me take care of you,”

“We shouldn’t - I have to meet Maria in an hour, and it’ll take me at least 45 minutes to waddle there,”

Joel ignores you, pulling your body into the room and shutting the door swiftly behind you. He doesn’t need prying eyes on what he’s about to do. Joel starts by showering your jaw and neck with kisses, his fingers playing with the bottom hem of his shirt before tugging it off. He nearly gasps from seeing your breasts, practically spilling out of the tiny bra that once fit your tits so perfectly.

You feel Joel devouring your body, noting how his hungry eyes stare at your chest. You mutter, “They’re massive, aren’t they?”

“They’re perfect, babe,” Joel nods and wraps an arm around your body. With a single finger, he unlatches your bra, and your tits spring free as the garment falls to the ground. A groan of surprise escapes Joel’s throat, and his hard cock strains against his zipper. He marvels at your milky skin, strewn with veins and stretch marks. He reaches and cups them, his fingers ghosting over your nipples, which are a deeper colour than before. Even in these short weeks, your body has made changes he wasn’t even aware of.

You hiss, “Joel,” but your eyes close because the relief of him holding your breasts has taken the strain off your back. He blows a soft gust at your left side and watches as your face twists into discomfort.

“Shit, darlin’… are they really that sensitive?”

You whimper, “Yeah - they’re that sensitive,”

“If it hurts, tell me to stop,” Joel instructs before he lowers his mouth to your breast. He kisses the skin, and you melt beneath the attention. When Joel swipes his tongue across the rock-hard nipple, you bite back the yelp that threatens to come out and instead focus on how Joel gingerly kneads the pillowy flesh that drapes from your chest. He’s listening to you, waiting for you to tell him to stop. But you don’t. You’re bearing the torment he's putting you through because you know it will feel good at some point. And eventually, it does.

It’s undeniable: Joel’s hands on your breasts feel amazing, and his warm mouth working on your right nipple is starting to create wetness between your thighs. As his fingers continue, you notice a new sensation in your breast that makes you squirm. At that moment, you feel a release as something emerges from your nipple and shoots into Joel’s mouth. You gasp and watch as he finally yields, pulling away from your body. You see the slightest evidence of white dew on his lower lip, and when you look down at your nipple, it's leaking with the same substance. You are shocked, unsure of what to do.

“Does that feel better, darlin’?” Joel hums. Hastily, you nod and swallow dryly. It does feel better, but you need more relief.

You gaze at Joel, eyelids cutely fluttering at him. You sheepishly ask, “What about the other side?”

Joel just smiles and helps you onto the bed. He places two extra pillows behind your back, ensuring you’re comfy before he settles down. He raises his head again, latching his mouth onto your other breast. Once more, the feeling is overwhelming. Almost too much to bear. You grit through the discomfort, relenting to the sensation of Joel’s mouth and hand as he works. Soon enough, another squirt of hidden cream comes forth.

It has you moaning this time, and you bask in the momentary relief. And instead of leaving your breast unattended, your hands thread through Joel’s dishevelled hair, and you keep him there. Breathlessly, you demand, “Don’t stop,” He listens and continues to work your breasts until your moans are frantic and your thighs continuously flex. Your arousal has grown to great heights, and an aching desire radiates in your core for the first time in a long time.

You reach down, fingers dipping into your sweatpants - again, it’s the only thing that fits - and notice how soaked your panties are. Of course, these days, it's a common occurrence. Pregnancy has your body changing in ways you didn’t even consider. Some of them are shocking, and some of them are annoying. Since the first trimester, the idea of sex repulses you. And it made you feel guilty because you live to please Joel. But your lovely partner doesn’t mind; he’s just been taking longer showers, which has been pissing Ellie off because there’s often no hot water left for her -

Joel notices your hand sliding into your pants and wants some of that action too. He takes one hand and places it on top of yours. Sharply, you inhale. You love how Joel is guiding your hand to his will. With his skillful touch, it doesn’t take long to reach the peak, turning you into a groaning mess as waves of pleasure swell and roll across your body. You notice how your belly quivers with delight too.

As you descend from the peak, you let Joel go. He lifts his head and wipes his milk-laced mouth before kissing you on the lips. You taste yourself. It’s sweet and creamy, reminding you of something you can’t quite place. As Joel’s tongue explores your mouth, you relish the feeling because it’s been too long. You missed his passion, and you missed him ravishing your body.

“Joel, I need you,” You whine through kisses as your hands wander up and down his back, attempting to undress him. He moves, and his shirt and pants are on the ground within seconds. With no underwear in sight, your eyes lock onto his dick, hanging freely. The presence of it never fails to make you drool.

Despite his quick movements to undress, Joel takes a slower approach with you and leisurely removes your sweatpants. His hands work with delicate precision, especially when he’s around your stomach. It’s incredibly frustrating for you, and you’re huffing in annoyance. It’s never been like this before. He’s always so rough, taking on a lusty savageness, and Joel would be inside by now. However, he’s still working off your panties.

“Joel,” You whimper. Your body vibrates with anticipation, and you don’t know how much more you can take. You need his cock, and you don’t care if something goes wrong. Months of built-up horniness are making you reckless. You beg, “Please just fuck me already,”

His eyes snap to yours. They’re dark with desire. As he places his body between your thighs, he murmurs, “I don’t want to hurt you or the baby,” Joel anticipates your reply - stupid belly - and hushes you before it can come out: “It’s not stupid - it’s love,”

“Love?” You whisper, confused. It’s not common, and Joel has only used it once. Morning sickness took over, and you were throwing up for weeks. Ellie and Joel thought you were dying. And, of course, for a little while, you believed them. It wasn’t until Maria asked when your last period did you clue in. And when you relayed that message to Joel, his grumpy face went unusually slack before joy took over. He swept you into his arms, kissed you, and said:

“I love you,” He repeats while wrapping a hand around his cock, lowering it to your glistening, swollen exterior. Expertly, he glides the crown of his cock up and down, watching as your juices coat it. You moan because your pussy is so unbelievably sensitive that another climax is blooming in your core. Joel finds himself commenting: “Goddamn… Your cunt is soaking wet,”

You squirm, hips wiggling as you spread your thighs further apart. You hate begging for it, but your cunt yearns for fulfillment. “Please!”

Joel presses his big, round tip against your tight entrance. You bite your lower lip, eyes gazing down at the penetration point, but your belly is in the way. You can’t see what’s happening but don’t have to because you suddenly feel his cock pushing through. At first, your velvet channel is resistant, but that doesn’t deter Joel.

As your walls grip his cock, coating it in a creamy warmth, Joel tosses his head back and sighs with satisfaction. It’s been so long. His hand has nothing on your pussy. Joel delves his cock as deep as possible, and you can feel it practically bulging inside your stomach. And when Joel places his hands on either side of your protruding belly, your impending orgasm rips through.

“Mmm, cumming already,” Your pussy convulses and clenches as a powerful wave of immeasurable pleasure crashes. White, hot flashes across your vision, sweeping you into a moment of intensity. Joel admires as your body undulates beneath him, studying as your belly ripples. He knows the pregnancy is the reason for your quick orgasms, and he wonders how many he can get out before he cums.

With a mission in mind, Joel lets you come back down before he starts to rock his hips back and forth. It doesn’t take long until you’re trembling with a third orgasm. You cry out, hands gripping the sheets below. You barely have time to catch your breath before Joel ups his pace, and he excitedly speers your pussy with youthful energy.

Hypnotically, Joel watches as your tits bounce with each thrust, and soon enough, his fingers are back on them. He squeezes and kneads until the milk sprays out with a such force that it sprinkles across your chest and coats his hands. A feral growl escapes from your mouth, “Joel,”

Your vision swirls, and your body shivers with ecstasy as a fourth orgasm rolls through. You gasp, sucking in as much air as you can. You look at Joel, marveling at his skin's sheer layer of sweat. He has a look of concentration on his face, and you know he must be close. You encourage him to cum, repeatedly.

But before he can, a fifth and final climax hits your body. It has you swearing and calling Joel names, “You fucking bastard,” as your pussy floods and swells around his cock. By this point, there’s a growing puddle beneath your ass, and Joel’s cock is exploring your molten wetness with ease. His flesh claps against yours and echos across the room. His groans are uncontrollable now, and he screws his eyes shut, trying to hold back.

The effort is futile, and he slams into your body, forgetting about being gentle. A stern look of arousal etches upon his face, and a deep, low guttural grunt spills from his lips. He doesn’t have a chance to warn you because his cock surges with a thick, plentiful rope of his cum, and floods your cunt with a warm stickiness. His hands are back and resting against your belly. Joel juts his hips forward, pushing a second load of cum deep into your cunt. He doesn’t have to worry about getting you pregnant because the damage is already done.

#joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #joel miller #tlof smut #joel miller kinks #thewordypeach #thewordypeachwrites #wpw #milk #fanfic #smut

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surielstea · 2 months

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Simple Needs

Based on this request

Pairing: Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: Azriel can’t keep his hands to himself

Warnings: Handsy Azriel | groping | suggestive

2.3k words

My eyes flutter open, slowly waking up, warm light seeps past the curtains as birds sing outside the window and bathe in the summer air.

My mates chest is pressed flush against my back, his wing draped over me as he places gentle kisses on my bare shoulder. I breathe in contentedly, picking up the scent of night chilled mist and cedar. I reach my hand back and weave my fingers through his hair.

"Good morning Az." I murmur. "Morning my love." His voice is deeper than usual, sleep still evident in his tone. I smile at the sound of it, pulling the blankets up higher— not planning to leave the warm bed anytime soon.

"Do you have assignments today?" I ask and he replies softly, "Just a few hours of paperwork. No missions." I nod and allow myself to burrow into him deeper, relishing in the feeling of his scarred hand traveling farther up my waist, to my ribs. "I think you should take the day off." I say, continuing to comb my fingers through his hair. "We could just lay here all day." I persuade and I think for a moment that I've got him convinced until he grunts out a curse and pulls me closer. "It's only a few hours, how about you go back to sleep, I'll be done by the time you wake up." He suggests and I shake my head no. "I can wait." I murmur. "I'll make some coffee." I offer and he hums in agreement before pulling me closer. "Just five more minutes." My mate mumbles into my skin and who was I to decline?

His hand goes higher, scars and callouses cupping over my breast and I allow it. He squeezes it slightly and a small smile spreads over my features. I stroke up and down his forearm with my freehand, savoring every moment as he just holds me close to him. He presses a soft kiss to the back of my neck, trailing it toward my jaw. I flip onto my back to peer up at him in a tangle of limbs and bedsheets. "Do you want pancakes?" I offer and he gives me a loving smile before dipping down and pressing his lips to mine for the first time today, his forehead coming down to rest against my own as he pulls away. "Just coffee's fine." He says and I nod, not wanting him to pull away. "But," He pecks my lips between words. "That's very kind of you." He whispers, his thumb brushing over the peak of my breast. "If we don't get up now it might never happen." I reason with him and he only grins. "Sounds like a plan to me." He hums, leaning down yet again to have my mouth against his. The intimacy was so casual, so normal for us. It takes me a moment to remember how we got here, that it wasn't always like this and I must've been the luckiest female in the world to get this every morning.

"C'mon." I flip out of the bedsheets. "Only a few hours, you said it yourself." I reprimand and he groans, his wing unfurling from around my body and tucking behind his back. I roll over him then off the bed, clumsily landing on my feet as I stumbled towards the armoire. He watches me shamelessly, eyes raking over every inch of my bare skin simply because he could.

I pulled one of Azriel's black shirts over my frame, the hem falling down to my upper thighs, just past the curve of my ass. He stares as I pick out a pair of panties, shuffling through the lacy underthings before finding a comfortable cotton thong and stepping into it, hiking it up my thighs before snapping the elastic to my hips.

I glance to him, his eyes already all over me. I doubt wearing shorts would change the way he stared so heedlessly so I opt out of any more clothing and walk towards him, hands on my hips as I reach the beside. "Are you going to get up or are you content on watching me?" I tilt my head. He doesn't reply but instead flips the covers off of him and stands. He grabs me, throwing me over his shoulder and I squeal.

His arm locks around the backs of my thighs as I hang upside down with a giggle. His other hand comes up to my ass for support, gripping it occasionally when I squirmed too much. "Put me down!" I whine but he doesn't do as I say, just continues stalking down the hallway until reaching the stairs. I pound against his back lightly as he descends the steps.

It's only when arriving in the kitchen does he place me back down onto my feet, slightly wobbly from the sudden change of weight. I look up at him slightly annoyed, he gives me a cheeky smile and I can't help but let that irritation fizzle away. I turn around towards the stove and open the cabinet to my right, spotting the coffee grounds on the very top shelf. I wasn't short by any means, Azriel was just freakishly tall and managed to make that fact blatantly clear every chance he got. "Do you have to put everything up so gods’ damned high?" I grumble as I hoist myself up onto the counter, rising onto my knees as I reach for the coffee transported here from the dawn court.

He doesn't offer to help but instead stands behind me, his hands coming to my exposed ass due to my reaching, kneading the plush skin and pressing a kiss to the small of my back. I manage to get the glass jar and as soon as I do his scarred hands wrap around my waist, then he guides me back to the floor.

I put a pot full of water onto the stove, watching the still liquid as I wait for it to boil. His abdomen pressed against my back as his chin propped up onto my head, draping over me in an attempt to get as close as possible.

"I'm a blanket." He breathlessly snickers, his hands slyly finding their way under my shirt, slipping past my middle and cupping my breasts yet again. I roll my eyes and incline my head up, at the action he tilts his head down at me. "Blankets don't have hands." I tease, he shrugs and squeezes my boobs without hesitation. "I'm new and improved." He flashes me a grin. I lift onto my toes and press a kiss to his lips from upside down.

"You're awfully handsy this morning." I murmur as he pulls back. "I have simple needs." He flicks his thumbs over the peaks of my breasts and I shiver at the awfully arousing feeling.

"Why don't you go get some work done?" I suggest. "I'll bring you your coffee." I say with a gentle smile but he frowns, clearly not wanting to leave my side. "The sooner you get to it the sooner you'll be done." I say matter of factly and he clicks his tongue, knowing I'm right. I bring my hands up to his, slowly pulling them out from my shirt. "And then I'll let you touch me wherever you want." I taunt. His eyes glow with lust and he nods, pecking my forehead before leaving my side, the warmth of his hands lingering across my skin.

Shadows stayed behind as I waited for the water to boil, the dark tendrils swishing around me as I begin humming a soft tune while making the coffee, pouring the rich brown liquid into two separate mugs. One gets a hefty amount of creamer and at least a tablespoon of sugar, the other remaining utterly plain and bitter. I can't help but smile at the dynamic of it, how it seems like a metaphor for who we are as people.

I pick both the mugs up by their handles, the liquid still steaming. I'm careful as I walk up the stairs, trying not to spill any on myself or the floor. Fortunately I make it to the landing without so much as a drop over the cups rim. The door to Azriel’s study was wide open for my entrance. As I walk in he doesn't look up from whatever paper he was writing on but more shadows wrap around me, excited for my returned presence.

I place the dark cup of coffee in front of him, my own now in my hands and warming me to my very bones as I take my first sip. "It's hot, alright?" I say, leaning down and pressing a kiss to his temple. He nods and I continue standing over him, watching as he worked. I marveled at all the tabs he kept on so many different people, folders thick and thin depending on the suspect.

Some part of me wondered if I had my own folder— my thoughts slipped away from me as a scarred hand curves around the back of my leg, finding purchase high up my inner thigh and gripping the area tightly, massaging the flesh and leaning his head onto my side.

He grabs his mug and sips from it leisurely as he reads over a report sent from Nuala. I didn't intervene, never understanding his spy work. I was utterly clumsy and horribly loud when trying to be quiet. I can still remember the sheer embarrassment I felt when Azriel tried to teach me how to walk silently on my feet. I sounded like an elephant compared to him.

He didn't mind, always said it gave his shadows so much to cling to, that he liked being next to someone who was the always life of the party, took the attention away from him and I quickly became one of the best distractions for spy work.

“I'm going to go read, come find me when you're done alright?" I run my hand through his hair. "Will you read in here?" He looks up at me with hopeful eyes. A smile tugs at my lips at the devotion in his gentle voice and I nod before leaning down and pressing a kiss to his forehead.

I saunter over to the floor to ceiling shelves full of Azriel's favorite books, I run my fingertips along the colorful, used spines until finding the small section at the right, full of romance novels my mate would never read but were solely there for me. I twist my lips to the side and decide on a clothbound book, its cover an intricately designed pattern of golds and greys, stark against the navy background.

I waltz over to a large leather chair in the corner, settling down into it and allowing it to swallow me whole. I place my mug on the side table and crack the book open.

The moment is peaceful, my mate and I doing our separate tasks in the comfort of each other's silence. The softness of it has my stomach fluttering with butterflies and the warmth that blooms in my chest felt like pure sunshine.

I was nearly halfway through the novel in my hands when Azriel turns in his stool and his eyes lay upon me. My mug has been empty for quite awhile now but I stayed in my spot because he asked me to, legs tucked to my chest and chin propped on my knees as I read. He gets up from his seat but I don't stir, only continue finishing up my chapter as he approaches my side. His hands stroke up my calves in a feeble attempt at getting my attention. "My love." He calls, I don't look up from the page I was on but I do reply with a soft, "hm?"

"I'm done working." He prompts, his hands now stroking up and down my thighs. "That's great, honey." I mumble incoherently, too sucked into the novel in my hands to even register what he said. He huffs in annoyance and picks me up from my comfortable position. I protest but he doesn't listen, stealing my seat on the comfortable chair then settling me down onto his lap. My objections stop at the new found position.

He chuckles as I snuggle into his bare chest, cracking my book open again and continuing where I left off. He slips his hands beneath my shirt yet again, in need of that skin to skin contact he often craved. One of his hands rest on my breast, per usual, but his other splayed across my hip, two of his fingers beneath my pantie’s waistband. Not doing anything arousing, just in need of feeling me without the restriction of any clothes. I melt into him as I flipped page, after page, my mind completely consumed by the book in my hands while his is consumed entirely by me, my scent, my body.

I finished the long chapter and flip to the next page, he flicks the peak of my breast in warning and a knowing smile curves my lips, I close the book and place it on the arm rest. I stretch my limbs out before cuddling back into him, settling my head back on his collar bone as I allow his hands to grope and roam wherever they wished.

"What are you thinking for lunch?" I ask with a soft yawn. "Is it too early in the day to say you?" He asks and I roll my eyes despite the way his comment makes my stomach flip. "If that's what you really want then I'm not going to stop you." I state, then adding, "however, I do wish to eat actual food at some point today."

"That can be arranged." He presses a hard kiss to my temple, then his hand massages my breast in a way that has my back arching. "You'll just have to be my dessert then."

Taglist: @fxckmiup @olive-main @iluvyewman-blog @gaymistakeboi @glam-targaryen @going-through-shit @fauxdette @amara-moonlight

Comment a “💙” to be added to the taglist!

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #fanfic #azriel #sarah j maas #x reader #azriel x you #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #fluff #acotar fluff #fem reader #acosf #i need him #writing #bat boys #rhysand #acomaf #suriels tea

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mandarinmoons · 4 months

Note

Heyy! what about Spencer with a super independent reader convinced she doesn't need friends when really she's just been hurt a lot abd Spencer wants to help her? 🥰

Thank you so much for requesting, I hope you enjoy!

A true friend - Spencer Reid

After a long day of sorting through paperwork the last thing you wanted to do was haul the mountains of boxes back to the assigned cabinets, but that was your job and you couldn’t go home before it was all done. You tried to lift one of the crates into your hands, but were instantly brought back down by the force of gravity.

You can do it

Once again you lifted the box in your hands and you made it a few steps before your arms gave in and the box landed on the floor, all of the contents sliding over the office floor. You sighed and cursed in your head as you looked at the mess in front of you, it would probably take another hour for all of this to get cleaned up. Grudgingly you knelt on the floor and began picking up the papers when you felt someone run over to you and swipe the papers from your hands. You looked up with big eyes and saw Spencer neatly putting the papers together.

“Spence it’s fine I-”

“Let me help you.”

You bit your lip and kept quiet as you slowly gathered the files around you and Spencer doing the same at seemingly five times speed. In only about 15 minutes all of the papers were sorted and Spencer helped you carry them back to the office they originally came from. You were surprised he managed to hold onto the heavy boxes due to his boney figure, but you were reminded that the previous week he had tackled an unsub to the ground with ease with only one arm, so the man seemed to be full of surprises.

After the last box was perched back onto its cabinet you looked over at Spencer and felt guilty seeing him be out of breath, “I really appreciate the help. I owe you one.”

Spencer smiled and gave a slight chuckle, “Oh no need to, it’s what friends are for.”

Friends, hearing that word sent a chill down your spine. Usually it was a word that was supposed to bring comfort and happiness, but to you it felt cold and sharp. Spencer noticed your face grow sad and frowned,

“Are you okay?” Your head snapped up and nodded “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks again.”

You walked out of the room at a quick pace and were stopped in your tracks when you felt a hand on your shoulder, “You’re not fine, tell me what’s wrong.”

You looked into Spencer’s eyes and saw the concern in them. You were tired of hiding your anguish, but it felt too hard to open up about it.

“Y/N? Talk to me, please. I want to help.”

Tears pricked in your eyes and you took a shaky breath before wiping at them roughly.

“I just um… I don’t have any friends.”

Spencer’s face dropped at the information, “What do you mean you don’t have any friends?”

You sighed and mentally prepared yourself for the conversation you were about to have, “I’ve just never been good at maintaining friendships. All of my life I’ve had people come in and out of my life and it’s solely been for their own interests and not mine. My last friendship ended so badly that it just made me want to isolate myself, and it’s kind of been that way ever since.”

Spencer nodded and rubbed your shoulder in a comforting manner. You saw the pity in his eyes and wish that you couldn’t. It made you feel weak and you hated it.

“What if I was your friend?”

You looked up at the young man and furrowed your eyebrows, “Why would you-”

“Stop right there. You’re kind, you’re a great listener, you always let me talk to you about anything without interrupting and judging me. Plus, you make great coffee.”

You chuckled, he was right. You always let Spencer come to you and talk about whatever interest he had, whether you had knowledge on the subject or not. Most people would find his chatter off putting, but you found it interesting.

“C’mon Y/N, please, I don’t want to see you hurting.”

It was hard to say no to those puppy dog eyes of his, they reminded you of your first dog and that made it all the more harder. Eventually you cracked a small smile and nodded, “Okay then, I’m all yours now.”

Spencer grinned and pulled you into a warm embrace, “We’re gonna have so much fun, you just wait.”

You can find my masterlist here!

My requests are open so feel free to send one in! (SFW only)

I could possibly write a part 2 for this so if anyone would like one pls let me know! xx

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copperbadge · 5 months

Text

Today was, I think, perhaps a good reminder to me about proportion, in terms of challenges and cleaning and life.

I love my family, but going home to see them involves a lot of compromise. Our priorities aren't often the same, but it usually matters a lot more to my family than to me what we do or watch or eat, so I often am just kind of along for the ride. It made it tough to do anything today that wasn't family-dictated, and I did start to fret about not being able to do much work on my "digital cleaning". Which is perhaps legit but does miss the point I myself make all the time, that this project is about making things better, not worse. Feeling thwarted because I can't put in arbitrarily self-assigned work when I could be enjoying the company of my family is valid, as all feelings are, but it also isn't improving anything. As my old acting teacher used to say when he didn't like our choices, "Valid...but incorrect."

So, if I didn't get much done today or if I don't get anything done tomorrow, I still made the day pleasant for my parents, I cooked a meal for the family and helped my stepdad do some chores, and we watched two decent Hallmark movies and a bunch of YouTube cooking videos. And my family had a good day, so that's sufficient.

Although it will be a bonus of some kind if tomorrow I can convince my mother to stop suggesting insanely elaborate dishes I should cook for myself on Christmas. I do not think the feast of the seven fishes is something I want to make, not least because I don't like cooked fish.

Well, all life is a work in progress.

#naclyoho #national clean your home month #food

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the-guilty-writer · 1 year

Text

I'd Better Ask Emily

Request from anon: Hear me out😅 Spencer Reid x daughter!reader where the reader is a lesbian but is to scared to tell Spencer and Spencer someone find out by accidentally reading her diary or something?

Spencer Reid x daughter!reader

Summary: When Spencer goes looking for your school notebook and accidentally reads your diary instead he goes to the BAU bisexual badass for help.

A/N: I really wanted to do this justice so there's angst and fluff and bisexual Emily Prentiss because she had more chemistry with women than any male love interest. I’m also a sucker for Reid and Prentiss friendship so there is a good chunk of it in here.

CW: reader is gay, Emily is bi, let’s be honest everyone on the team is a little fruity, suggestions that Emily wasn’t supported, coming out of the closet, reader goes to social justice march.

---

“And my math homework is on the table for you to check over!” It was a Friday morning and you were in a rush to get out the door. There was a social justice march beginning at the national mall in half an hour and your AP government teacher had convinced the principal to cancel classes so every student could participate. Plus you were getting extra credit.

“What about your reading summaries?” Your dad asked you. Spencer always proof-read your graded assignments, per your request. It helped to have his genius input, though sometimes you wondered if he went easy on you. Since you were a child, you’d never made a craft or drew a picture or wrote something that your dad didn’t love.

“In my notebook on my desk,” you said hastily. “Bye, love you!”

“Love you too. Don’t get-” The door slammed shut. Spencer sighed. “Arrested.”

He made his way to your room. For the most part you were tidy, but your desk was a mess. Colored pens and highlighters, loose leaf paper with to-do lists, a stack of books that was falling over onto the jumbled surface. Spencer began to sift through the clutter, fixing the stack of books, putting your writing utensils in a pile, looking around for your notebook- but of course you hadn’t clarified which notebook. By the time he was done sorting through the mess there were five of them total. He began to read through them, trying to identify which one you wrote your reading summaries in.

It was down to the last two. Spencer grabbed the next one in the stack and opened to a random page:

I’ve never been one for poetry, but I find myself wanting to write verses on how her eyes crinkle when she laughs and the way her hips sway as she walks.

That sounded English-y and promising. Spencer kept reading.

I imagine her skin is soft, like velveteen, and her hair like expensive silk. The smell of her perfume is that of vanilla and honey; it reminds me of summer.

The sound of her voice is like a siren’s music. When she calls my name I can’t help but get up from my spot in the cafeteria and-

Wait.

There weren’t cafeterias in the book you were reading for school.

Spencer read the passage back again and again. He couldn’t help himself- he flipped to the front page to start from the beginning and finished reading the entirety of your diary in two minutes. There were entries spanning over two years, but one thing stuck out to Spencer more than anything else:

You talked about girls.

You talked liking girls.

Of course the diary contained passages on other things, like the day you visited your dream school and a cute dog you had met at the park… but you were dreaming of cute girls. And you never told him.

Spencer closed the diary and put it on your desk. His only thought: I’d better ask Emily about this.

---

Emily added a small amount of creamer to her coffee and went to sit down at her desk, highly regretting that she’d put her paperwork until the last minute again. The stack of files on her desk was beginning to rival Hotch’s, and that was not a competition she wanted to win. She sat down at her desk and opened up a file, pen in hand ready to go when-

“Um, hey Emily. Can I ask you something?”

If it was anyone but Spencer, she probably would have told them to ask her during the lunch break she wasn’t going to take, but there was a hesitancy in his voice that made her stop. Emily knew she looked like she might bite someone if they bothered her- Morgan had already gotten a taste of her mood that morning- but Spencer never seemed to notice when her annoyance rose to the surface. If he was uncomfortable it was because he had his own problem. He needed her help.

And she needed his speed reading to get through all the files on her desk.

“Morning, Reid,” she said, her annoyance turning to concern. “Is everything okay?”

“Well, I- uh- I kind of saw something I shouldn’t have this morning and I wanted to ask you about it.” He rubbed his neck nervously.

Emily tried to keep a straight face as she thought of every embarrassing teenage incident captured on video or sin-to-win photograph that could possibly be out there for Spencer to come across.

“What is it?” Emily asked, her voice wavering ever so slightly.

“You like women romantically, right?”

Okay… that didn’t rule out embarrassing adolescent mistakes or weekends in Atlantic City.

“Yes.”

“Because I accidentally read (Y/N)’s diary this morning and she writes a lot about being attracted to girls but she hasn’t told me yet and-”

“You read your daughter’s diary?!” Emily wasn’t sure if she was more shocked that Reid would do such a thing, or relieved that her privacy was still intact. “Reid-”

“It was an accident!” he said. “I was looking for her reading summaries for school and she told me it was in the notebook on her desk and then I just saw it…”

Emily hoped the devastation on Spencer’s face was for the right reasons.

“Why wouldn’t she tell me?”

Yeah… it was for the right reasons.

Emily sighed, leaning her elbows on her desk. “I’m sure that you demonstrate your open-mindedness at home-”

“I do.”

“And I’m sure you tell (Y/N) that you love her no matter what-”

“All the time.”

“But that doesn’t make it any less scary.”

Spencer didn’t respond.

“Coming out isn’t easy. No matter how sure you are that you will be accepted there’s always a little bit of doubt. There’s always the fear that it’ll change the fundamental way a person loves you and that you’ll never treat them the same.” Emily pushed away memories- memories filled with pain and relief and anxiety and frustration. The only thing that eased the thoughts were that she knew you wouldn’t have to go through what she did; not with Spencer as your dad. “She’s probably feeling really afraid, even if she doesn’t show it.”

“How can I make it better?”

Spencer’s genuine love for you- a love that every child should get to experience- made Emily feel as though she was falling apart and being put back together again all at the same time.

“Just let her know you love her,” Emily said. “A little goes a long way.”

---

As you walked up to the door of the apartment you felt like you were floating on cloud nine; for two years you had been crushing on this girl you shared classes with. You knew she was openly and unapologetically gay- making it a point to post pictures of herself on social media with pride flags and holding hands with her now ex-girlfriend. They had broken up about eight months ago and ever since then you’d hope that she would notice you. For three months the two of you had hung out in group settings- getting to know one another with other people there as a buffer- but you’d gathered your courage today to ask her out on a date. And she said yes.

“So I guess the march was good?”

You were so distracted from the events of the day you hadn’t even noticed your dad was home.

“Oh, yeah,” you said, startled. “It was good. Really good. Lots of… social justice and things.” You cursed yourself for not having a better answer. You should have been good at faking feelings and answers by now, having been raised by a profiler. Even then, Spencer always saw right through you.

The high you were on came crashing down- your dad always saw right through you. There was no way you could go on a date, let alone your first date, without him catching on. Discomfort grappled with your stomach and anxiety bubbled in your chest. You tried to reach for the courage you had earlier, but it was gone.

“Hey, is everything okay?” Your dad walked over and put a gentle hand on your arm.

“Uh-” You swallowed. “Yeah- yeah, I’m fine.”

Your dad suddenly looked weary. It was the same look when he told you he was going to miss your tenth birthday because of a case, or when he got a call that your grandmother’s medication wasn’t working as well as they had hoped.

“(Y/N),” he started. “I love you. I really hope you know that. And I’m glad you had a good day.”

“I love you too, dad,” you said, waiting for him to break bad news. But it didn’t come. He just gave you his awkward tight-lipped smile before tucking your hair behind your ear and turning away.

There was something about the gesture and the words that called the courage back to you. Well, some of the courage.

“I’m going on a date,” you blurted. Spencer turned back to you. You tried to look for clues on his face or in his body language that would tell you what he was thinking or feeling, but you were too caught up in your own head to make sense of any of it. “I asked someone out on a date and they said yes.”

Your father smiled wide. “That’s great, honey! Is it anyone I know?”

“Oh- um-” Spencer didn’t know many of your friends in person, but he knew them from what you told him, and what Garcia could dig up on them. “Yeah. They’re in some of my classes.”

You waited for your dad to call you out on the vagueness of your language, but he didn’t. He only continued to smile and encourage you to go on- is it a study date or a real date? Real date. Weekend or after school? Weekend. Are you taking the metro or do you want him to drive you? Actually it was a walkable distance.

The more you talked, the more excited you got. You were still careful to control your language, but the bravery was beginning to grow. You thought about taking a deep breath, but you didn’t. Instead you just said, “And she’s a girl.”

The world stilled for just a moment- your heart which was beating fast with excitement was now racing with panic. Your stomach was in knots and you felt your hands begin to shake. “I’m gay, dad.”

Spencer placed a gentle hand over yours, stopping it from quivering. The look in his eyes couldn’t be described as happy, but it wasn’t sad. No… it was peace. It was content.

“I know,” he said.

“You- you do?” The weight began to lift off your shoulders, but it was replaced by a bit of shock.

“Yes.” Spencer smiled. “Next time you should clarify which of your notebooks you wrote your assignments in.” Both of you chuckled, and you felt your body unwind as tension left your muscles. “And if it’s any consolation, I think your poetry is great.”

You smiled. “You always love everything I write.”

Your dad pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Because I love you.”

There was no more tension now- no more fear and no more doubt- just you and your dad being excited about your first big crush and your first big date. And it didn’t matter that it was with a girl. Spencer would always love you no matter what.

"So," he said. "What are you going to wear?"

You thought about the clothes you had, but none of your outfits seemed just right.

"I think I might go shopping for something new," you said.

Spencer smiled. You had a shopping buddy- the same one since you were little.

"So I guess I'd better ask Emily."

#criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x daughter!reader #spencer reid x child!reader #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds x teen!reader #criminal minds x daughter!reader #criminal minds x child!reader #emily prentiss x platonic!reader

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momoyukirin · 2 months

Text

Momo's "An Idol's Daily Life" Rabbitchat Part 1

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Highly Nutritious ☆ Home-cooked meal

Tsumugi: Thank you for your hard work, Momo-san. And thank you for inviting us on “NEXT Re:vale” today!

Tsumugi: It appears that everyone enjoyed that “Make a heart flutter with pre-determined lines!” project.

Momo: Good work, Maneko-chan~! (*´∀`*)/ Recording was really fun, wasn’t it!

Momo: It was worth planning this project with the staff!

Tsumugi: All of the assigned lines on the pieces of paper that got pulled from the box were so funny that Okazaki-san and I ended up laughing a lot!

Momo: Even though lines like “I’m hungry” or “my feet are itchy” are silly, they’d whisper them in a sexy way to make them heart-pounding, so they ended up sounding really surreal and funny www*

Tsumugi: But when Idols like you all say them, they somehow sound cool, so it was rather strange!

Momo: I know right~~~~!!

Momo: My heart skipped a beat too when Yamato hugged me from behind and whispered “Do you want to add Gochujang?” (*/∇ \*)

Tsumugi: Yamato-san was in high spirits as well! lol

Momo: He really gave his all for that “Go~chu~jang” huh www

Momo: His breathing was impressive ww

Tsumugi: Mitsuki-san’s composed “What kind of situation is this!” tsukkomi* response right after was brilliant!

Momo: Right! As expected of IDOLiSH7! Their tsukkomi and boke balance is amazing!

Tsumugi: Thank you! I’m sure Mitsuki-san will be happy to hear this, so I’ll let him know!

Momo:

Tsumugi: Your heart-pounding line was also wonderful, Momo-san! The part you said “Games are only allowed for one hour a day” while kabedoning Tamaki-san!

Momo: Thank you (*´∀`)*。Though Tamaki immediately went “no way” ww

Momo: It was fun and the flow ended up being really interesting, including Sougo who came from the stage seats in a panic to try and convince me to nod and agree with him!

Momo: But it was so exciting we ended up dragging the shoot a bit longer, were you okay with the job after that?

Tsumugi: Yes! Thanks to everyone’s cooperation, we left quickly and managed to finish the shoot at the next location on schedule!

Momo: That’s a relief~! Then, are you done for the day? It’s late, so be careful going home.

Tsumugi: Thank you for your concern! I will be, I think I’ll just get some groceries for dinner and go home.

Momo: Making dinner after work is quite impressive!?

Momo: I hadn’t even thought about making anything (+･`−･´)

Tsumugi: I won’t be making anything too elaborate, but I guess I’ve just made a habit of it..!

Tsumugi: What do you usually do, Momo-san?

Momo: Usually I just get a bento or catering in the dressing room!

Momo: I order delivery on my days off _(:3」∠)_

Tsumugi: There are many kinds nowadays so it’s quite convenient, isn’t it! I also like to order sweets on my days off.

Momo: That’s nice! Like watching the movies and TV dramas you’ve been recording* with the latte and donut you got delivered in hand!

Tsumugi: That's exactly it!

Momo: (≥▽≤)/□☆□/(≥▽≤)

Tsumugi: (≥▽≤)/□☆□/(≥▽≤)

Momo: You went along with it www Thanks ww

Tsumugi:

Tsumugi: However, if you only eat bento you might get nutritional imbalance so please be careful..!

Momo: Maneko-chan, you're so kind (;∀;) Thank you ☆

Momo: Yuki invited me over today, so it’s okay (つω<")

Momo: He said that since I haven’t been eating well lately, he made beef stew with lots of vegetables!

Tsumugi: Oh! So you are at Yuki-san’s house!

Tsumugi: Making a home-cooked meal with so much thought put into it, as expected of Yuki-san!

Momo: He’s the best darling after all(o/▽`)/:*・° °・*

Momo: I thought I could help, but I was told I'm on the bench*, so now I'm just sitting quietly and waiting (´・ω・`)

Tsumugi:

Translator's notes:

1)“www” is one of the japanese equivalents to “lol” but i wanted to differentiate it from tsumugi’s “(笑)” (also “lol”) so I chose to translate hers and leave Momo’s as is, since I use “www” a lot as is myself lol

2)Anyone who’s read idolish7 content by this point probably knows this, but just in case, the “straight man” (tsukkomi) and “funny man” (boke) act is a kind of japanese comedy duo where the boke says something silly or creates a misunderstanding and the tsukkomi corrects them

3) Momo refers to the shows you can record on your tv to watch later, idk if this is a thing much anymore in the west but i do believe it is still in japan.

4)Momo basically said that Yuki told him he's off-duty but the word he uses is apparently used in sports to convey a player that was not chosen to play in the team, momo is a sportsman after all~ www

#ainana #re:vale #idolish7 #i7 translations #momo #yuki #yukimomo #momoyuki #rabbitchat #momo's daily life

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kittyball23 · 4 months

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Mellow Yellow (a Trolls fanfic)

Summary: JD takes what he sees as the ‘necessary’ measure to keep Clay living up to his Fun Boy persona

A/N: Wanted to pump one more oneshot out before the year’s end! This one is in celebration of New Hair's Eve lol

__________________________________________

“Hold still, Clay!”

“Ow! But you’re hurting me, John Dory!”

John Dory dismissed his younger brother with a raspberry that he blew. “Pfft. How do you expect the color to stay if you don’t scrub-a-dub-dub it in? Huh?” To emphasize his point, JD really began to grind into Clay’s scalp with his fingers, working the product into the Troll’s head.

“That’s just it,” Clay groaned, “I don’t want it to. I don’t think this is even necessary!”

JD just continued what he was doing, bending his head some so that he could speak directly into Clay’s ear, loud and clear. “Clay, I’m gonna give you the best advice you can take and tell ya to follow the ‘don’t think’ part of what you just said. I, as I’m sure you can remember, am your leader. I’ll do all the thinkin’ for you. And besides, how much thinkin’ do you gotta do when you’re the Fun Guy? You just go out and have fun!”

Clay rolled his eyes. “Who put you in charge in the first place?” he grumbled in annoyance.

JD sighed, as if Clay should have known this already. “Bro, when you’re the oldest, the role automatically goes to you. And I’m doing a pretty good job at keepin’ us all in line, if I do say so myself.”

Ego much? Clay thought, almost disgusted at how highly his brother thought of himself. He didn’t say anything though. Whenever he, or any of the bros contraindicated him, they always found that whatever they had to say was usually in one ear and out the other, unless it was them flat-out agreeing with what John Dory said.

“Plus,” JD continued cockily, “I’m the smartest, too!”

Okay, so maybe joke-telling wasn’t supposed to be John Dory’s specialty, as he was not the assigned ‘Fun Boy’ of the group, but boy was that a good one. Clay cracked up, leaving JD baffled.

“Hey, what’s so funny?” he asked.

Clay chuckled a few more times, wiping a tear from his eye and fibbing. “Nothing, bro! I was, um… I just thought of this great joke. Yeah!” He grimaced a little, hoping John Dory wouldn’t ask what it was and, to his relief, he didn’t. He patted the younger Troll on the back.

“Ah-ha! Now, that’s what I’m talkin’ ‘bout! Embracing the role that you were born to take. That’s the spirit!”

Clay brushed him off. “Yeah, yeah, whatever, can you just finish up already?”

JD nodded enthusiastically. “Say no more, brother. I’ll have you fixed up in a jiffy!”

__________________________________________

Even though John Dory’s ‘jiffy’ took well over an hour, Clay still felt the same sense of freedom after being released from JD’s hold… and the same sense of dismay as he looked into the mirror.

“Ah, whaddya think?” JD prompted, nudging him with his elbow. “Pretty good, huh?”

Clay glanced at him. “I thought you said not to think.”

JD scoffed. “Just tell me.”

Clay reluctantly looked back in the mirror, tilting his head in scrutiny of his reflection. “I don’t know… I wish it was still green,” he finally admitted.

JD slung an arm around his brother. “Clay, yellow is a fun color. It totally works! And green is my signature color. We can’t have two of the same color in the band - we gotta have a rainbro! More appealing to the eye!”

Clay wasn’t fully convinced. He reached up, touching strands that were a fabricated lemony-yellow instead of his preferred natural lime-green. “I don’t know…” he said again.

“You’ll get used to it,” John Dory assured, not wanting to dwell on it any longer. He then turned from Clay and clapped his hands together once. “Alright! How’s our frosty-baby-blue coming along?”

Clay followed his older brother as they entered the next room over and found Spruce and Floyd with Branch.

“Just about done!” the purple-haired Troll said with a thumbs up.

“Just one more piece…” Floyd said, carefully plucking out the last of the foil out from the top of the baby’s head, and leaving their youngest bro with brilliant white tips and a bright smile to match.

John Dory whistled in delight. “Woooweee! That looks brodacious!”

Clay smiled down at his little bro. It really does look ‘brodacious,’ he could agree.

A lot more than MY hair does…

__________________________________________

A/N: I have 3 different theories for the change in Clay’s hair color. 1) He dyed it when he was older from yellow to green as a way to camouflage and also to cut ties with his old boyband self. 2) His hair naturally changed from yellow to green as he grew up. Or 3) He was forced to have his hair dyed from green to yellow per JD

Anyhow, Happy New Year 2024, folks! 🥳🎉👏

#trolls #trolls 3 #trolls band together #john dory #clay trolls #branch trolls #spruce trolls #floyd trolls #brozone #dreamworks #fanfiction #kittyball writes #brodacious fanfiction

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citrusses · 5 months

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January: 2023 Wrapped 🎁🍊

*some* of my favorite 2023 fics, by month they were published (or started to publish, or finished publishing, it's arbitrary bc i make the rules), plus some thoughts on what made these fics so special.

Chicken Shop Date by @sorrybutblog (T, 2K)

Draco and Harry sit down for an interview. Or is it a date?

This is such a fun premise and the Harry/Draco banter just sizzles. The atmosphere is so rich! 2K words of perfection that pack an outsized punch.

Close Behind by @oflights (M, 134K)

To rescue Draco from the Underworld, Harry has to look forward. Unfortunately, Draco has to look back.

A masterpiece that deconstructs every relationship in the HP universe and then rebuilds it, that does mind-boggling things with narrative structure, that stressed me out so badly I felt physically ill, that was so moving it left me bursting into tears for days after I read it, that had the funniest single line I've read in a fic maybe ever. So far reading this is the only time I've ever checked the tags on a fic for "happy ending" because I was so emotionally overwhelmed by it that I needed to know it would be ok in the end. I can't overstate how much I love this one.

For Lack of Wanting by @fluxweeed (E, 8K)

Over the last ten years, I’ve worked hard to become a better person. I hate being reminded of who I used to be. But Harry likes it when I’m mean.

A gorgeous, painful story that explores a kind of Harry/Draco dynamic that's not seen as often in fics (a SAD one), but is done exceptionally well here. It hurts so good!

Nights With You by @the-sinking-ship (E, 58K)

Draco is mortified when moments prior to departing for the most anticipated destination wedding of the year, he is cruelly dumped. But when he learns that Harry Potter has, at long last, split with his horrible boyfriend, Draco is certain his luck has changed. Never a man to squander an opportunity for revenge (and what would probably be a spectacular shag), Draco vows to make Potter his for the weekend. Now all Draco has to do is convince him.

@the-sinking-ship regularly writes: my favorite kind of Draco, my favorite kind of romance/getting together AND my favorite kind of smut. This fic is all of those things.

Polar Night/Midnight Sun by toomuchplor (E, 54K)

Harry travels to arctic Norway on the trail of dragon egg poachers, only to find he's been assigned to work alongside the only NorMagPol Auror north of sixty: one Draco Malfoy. It's been ten years since they crossed paths, and Malfoy isn't exactly what Harry expected or remembered. For one thing, he wears a lot more hand-knits? When a sudden winter storm strands the pair, unable to use magic to rescue themselves, they take shelter in a one-room Norwegian hytte.

The hottest fic in the coldest setting, this one made me absolutely FERAL. The most evocative scenery, incredible characterization, and the perfect pacing building to an explosively sexy and tender relationship. Also I would read like, 100K more words on just the mittens and jumpers and scarves of this fic, which are not items of clothing I have cared much about in the past. It's just that every detail, down to the smallest, is incredible!

When It Returns by @academicdisasterfic (M, 8K)

‘You’re late, layabout,’ Malfoy drawled, pushing the whiskey over to him. ‘I’ll have you know that I am very busy maintaining a whole house and garden by myself now.’ ‘Oooh, the dead husband card. Before any alcohol. Is that a record?’ Harry's husband is dead, and Malfoy is the only one who gets it. Or, the one where they drink at a straight man pub, renovate a house, and learn how to find joy again.

January was a good month for feeling bad. It's another angsty one! This one is full of beautiful healing in the face of a loss that feels very real, Draco annoying Harry out of his grief spiral (but in a loving way?) and Harry being on the right side of almost too stubborn for it to work. I have read and reread this many times already!

#citrus recs #2023 recs #drarry fic recs #I’m sure I’m going to miss TONS #so I’m sorry in advance #there are too many great fics in this fandom what a fantastic problem to have

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bakerstreethound · 1 year

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Five More Minutes | dr. stephen strange

Really calling myself out here with this blurb but you try to convince Stephen you’ll rest soon, but perhaps you’ll need his assistance to do so as he takes matters into his own hands. There are mentions of anxiety and implied spicy times toward the end if you squint.

Please don’t claim, repost, copy or translate my works to other sites. I only publish here and on A03. This was a little rushed but I still hope you all enjoy it nonetheless. It’s been a while since I’ve written Stephen Strange. Comments and reblogs are most appreciated! Graphic is by @firefly-graphics

“I thought you said you were almost finished,” Stephen grumps while your eyes remain transfixed on the computer screen in front of you. You’re determined to finish up as much of the weekly assignments you can for fear of falling catastrophically behind.

“Five minutes ago was forty five minutes ago,” he quips, huffing as he sits in the armchair close to your desk. “You should take a break, can’t get it all knocked out in a day.”

You sigh, typing faster still, your fingers a tornado of fury on your keyboard.

I said that five minutes ago.”

You can’t help but stifle a laugh at his comment. “Yeah, says you who passed Med School like it was nothing.”

“It was challenging, but I knew I could do better than what they were teaching me.”

Ah, there it was, the bold arrogance, the cocky self-assuredness you miss sometime now and again. You wish you could be done, but alas your major projects scream at you from their file pit, the dread creeping along, setting your heart racing anxiety falling in tandem as usual.

You breath slowly, trying to not let the useless thoughts cloud you or your judgment, but it’s hard, you feel like sinking back into the well of your dread and misery, the darkened pit of your haunting and taunting leering screams and self doubts.

It’s just a phase, you’re almost done. Four more weeks. Four more weeks.

You repeat it to yourself, your mantra, your lifeline. They weren’t kidding at all when they mentioned senioritis afflicting at the end of the finish line. So close yet so far away, almost an eternity. You know it’s an exaggeration of your untapped fears. But you are almost there.

The tears fall before you register them, Stephen kneeling in front of you, gently wiping them away with his fingers, trembling slightly and you can’t help but kiss it.

“I went well over five minutes again, didn’t I?” The remorse and shame drapes over you like a bad omen, weighing you down. Why couldn’t you catch a break from yourself? All the empty promises you made to yourself, to him mattered not in the end, for you couldn’t meet them.

Stephen says nothing, as he cradles you in his arms, the warmth of him comforting as he strides down the familiar corridors of the Sanctum, your beloved home, and setting you gently on your shared bed. You almost feel guilty for leaving your desk when he raises a brow.

“Not another word. We’re taking the rest of the night off and you are going to relax.” He swoops in bed next to you, pulling himself on top of you drowning you in the confines of the mattress, his gentle kisses awakening you, stirring the pent up anger, sorrow and need from deep within, a promise to come in the darkening eves of the night. So you fall, fall into him without another word, clinging to him like a lifeline, never to be parted.

******

@bakerstreethound @starks-hero @frostandflamesfanfic @lilythemadqueen @ironstrange1991 @wint3r-h3art @strangelockd @sobeautifullyobsessed @azu21 @gone-to-fight-the-fairies @thealleydog @starstruck-loner

#Doctor Stephen Strange #doctor strange x reader #stephen strange x reader #doctor strange x you #dr strange fanfiction #doctor strange fanfiction #Stephen Strange #doctor strange #mcu fanfiction

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523rdrebel · 8 months

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Chapter 3 -

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

Summary: AU/Canon Divergent - Set after the rescue of Crosshair, Omega, and Tech from Mount Tantis. The Batch settles down on Pabu and are, for the moment, able to hide from the Empire. Crosshair, with much grumbling, is convinced to see one of the local doctors to monitor his recovery. Unfortunately for Crosshair, Dr. Isabella Ramót is a ray of sunshine and a breath of fresh air - and totally capable of handling his harsh, rough demeanor.

Trigger Warnings - Mention/Allusion to grief and loss. SFW, but mature themes explored. Minors DNI.

Chapter 3:

Hunter observes the scene from afar, his heightened senses zeroing in as his brother’s erratic heart rate slowly begins to calm and regulate alongside Izzy’s steady presence. Well that’s new, he thinks.

“She’s really something special, isn’t she?” Desi, Izzy’s friend, someone Hunter was only tentatively acquainted with, stood a few steps away observing the scene as well.

Hunter chuckles, “My brother is remarkably stubborn. He doesn’t open up easily-” He pauses, reconsidering his words, then sighs, “Izzy seems to have a way with him that I haven’t seen before. Think she’ll teach me?”

“I’m afraid that’s just a part of who she is. Not sure it’s a teachable skill.” Desi laughs, glancing affectionately across the grassy area to where her friend was still sitting.

“You’ve known her for a long time then?”

“Five or six years now. We’ve been together through a lot… After the Empire–” “Well, I’ll just say she’s no stranger to pain and loss.”

“I imagine there aren’t many of us who are anymore.”

A few moments later, Izzy motions for Hunter to assist her getting Crosshair home. It takes some time, in part because of Crosshair’s weakened state and in part because of the surprising height difference between the two of them. Once they arrived at Crosshair’s lodging, a one room flat, with minimal furnishings and a small ‘fresher, they help Crosshair to a plush, if well-used, chair. He tries to hide his wince as he lowers himself down into the seat. Hunter quietly chastises his brother for scaring the kriff out of him and assures him that he’ll assign a watch cycle if he does anything like this again. Crosshair’s only response is to scowl and roll his eyes. Hunter eventually sighs, checking the time on the chrono and saying his goodbyes. He nods his thanks to Izzy before exiting with promises to check in tomorrow.

Crosshair leans back into the chair, closing his eyes and taking a few deep breaths. The sounds of rummaging in his tiny kitchenette draw his attention and he opens his eyes slightly, “What are you doing?”

Bells continues to rummage through his sparse cabinets and refrigeration unit, “Finding something remotely edible, hopefully.”

He was feeling particularly vulnerable after the cliff. She had seen him at his weakest moment, she had sat with him and waited for him to come back, out of the darkness. He could not understand how she seemed so capable of drawing him out of the darkness of his own mind. It irked and irritated, but it also soothed. She burned like a sun - all soothing warmth and burning heat. He was a thunderstorm, rain and wind charged with electricity. “You’ve done enough. Get out.” His voice is gruff and tired, having lost some of its usual bite.

“Tsk- Not a chance.” She smiles, that dangerous brightness, as she places her findings onto the small counter space. “I’m not leaving until you’ve had something acceptable to eat and had enough liquid for your body to process the hydration tablets.” She holds up a small foil packet, gesturing with it as she speaks.

“I’m not a child. I can take care of myself–”

“And on a normal day that would be true. But today, I’m providing you with free room service. Complaints will be noted and promptly ignored.”

“Ugh–You’re worse than Wrecker…”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“It wasn’t,” His voice is deadpan.

Bells responds in kind, a small amused smirk on her lips, “I know.”

She makes a simple meal, a brothy soup with some vegetables and a mild meat and brings him some. He glares at her, but the smell makes his stomach rumble and he cannot deny his hunger any longer. “What? You just going watch me eat?” “No,” she looks away, eyes darting here and there around the room before staring down at the floor. “I didn’t figure you’d appreciate it if I wandered around, snooping.”

“Hmph…” He tries to ignore her presence, tries to ignore the warmth she seemed to radiate. He says flatly, “How nice.”

After a time of mostly comfortable silence, Crosshair finishes his meal and an acceptable amount of liquid. Isabella fishes a few items from her pack and quickly checks his vitals. “The next time you get like that…call me, call someone. Just– you don’t have to be alone with it.”

“You shouldn’t say things you don’t mean, Bells.”

“Tsk- You know I do mean it.”

“Stupid.” He snaps. “You don’t know- You don’t understand. You can’t understand.” He tried to cover the pain behind his words with more anger. Anger was simpler, more familiar. “It’s better that I’m alone.”

“You’re right.” Her brows furrow and she shakes her head, “I don’t understand…I don’t fully know what you’ve been through, and I’m not going to ask you– I don’t need to know, and it doesn’t really matter. All I know is that what happened to you was wrong and I want to be here to help you throw up your middle fingers at the Empire– by living.”

He bristles at her words, they were accurate and he didn’t appreciate how easily she seemed to read him, “I’m not your project, Bells.”

“I know. But you are my patient. And I'm still holding out hope that one day we'll be friends.” After a moment, she hands him the packet of hydration tables which he accepts, rolling his eyes.

He scoffs dismissively, “Don’t hold your breath. Or do.”

Her eyes scan the room, landing briefly on an object in the far corner, her brain sparks an idea that could potentially solve two problems- increasing Crosshair’s motivation to improve and keeping him from isolating himself completely. Despite the short time she’s known him, she finds that she knows he’s worth the risk. She glances sidelong at Crosshair, “How about we change up your exercises a bit?”

“...What did you have in mind?” He drew out the syllables, squinting at her with that suspicious glare.

She crosses the room to stand beside the footlocker that had been nestled into the corner gathering dust. She flashes her bright smile and gestures towards it and arches an eyebrow, “Teach me.”

Crosshair's face goes blank, anger flashing in his eyes, "No."

His anger revealed his hand, exposing the queen - Check. Isabella is patient, almost to a fault, but perhaps it is not time for waiting… perhaps now is the time for a push. She simply crosses her arms and lifts her chin up, she locks eyes with him daring him to deny her.

“You’re not laying a finger on my rifle!” He snarls, leveraging himself out of the chair, despite his lingering weakness and exhaustion. His legs shake, but he ignores them and steps menacingly towards her. There is a battle within him, two sides opposing, pushing against each other but neither gaining ground. His fingers itch to hold his rifle again, to feel the confidence and strength, to feel whole again. But there is a gnawing coldness that eats away at him, that he can’t, that he’s no longer capable, no longer worthy.

Bell’s voice breaks through the storm in his mind, a sunshower in a hurricane, “Think about it, Crosshair-- It will be a way to ease you back into it. You’ll get to work up that muscle memory, and as long as you stay on top of your physical therapy, you’ll be back in the shooting range before you know it!” She crosses her arms, an insufferably confident smirk plastered on her face, “And I‘ll have been taught by the best.”

He snorts, feeling his broken pride like a pool of acid in his gut. He grinds the word with his teeth, “No.”

Not one to be easily deterred, and certain of her path to help her patient, she continues, “I’m not unfamiliar with blasters. I know how to handle a standard rifle, but sniper rifles are more specialized and much less accessible–”

“I said No.” He leans forward into her space, glaring down at her and once again struck by her seemingly endless cheer, “You’re not a soldier. You don’t need to learn.” Adding a little more emphasis attempting finality, “No.”

Instead of backing away, She takes a step forward angling her chin upward, eyes softening slightly, “You need something familiar. Something that is a comfort to you– and your skill with a rifle is as close to an identity as you’ve had until now.”

Her gentle glance sears into him and he takes a step backward, he’s losing ground. He shakes his head, “A rifle is not a toy– it’s not a hobby–”

Her voice is lower, taking on a heavier tone, “I know.” Bells’s face flashes with guilt, anger, and fear, then finally fierce determination. “You’ve seen what’s out there. And so have I. I know what happens to places like Pabu– to people like me when the Empire finds them. If they come here, I won’t go down without a fight.”

He watches the emotions playing across her face. Guilt and anger, now those are emotions he knows what to do with. They are as familiar to him as close friends and he feels a tugging pull in his chest, a connection. Before his mind has caught up to him, he's already spoken, a low growled “Fine–”

“Really!?” She’s staring at him with a bright expression- victory.

He panics, once again thrown off balance by his own acquiescence to her. He scrambles for a way out, "I'll do it on one condition."

She rolls her eyes and snarks playfully, "Of course– Can’t make things easy, it might kill you."

"Stop interrupting-” He watches as she mimes locking her lips and lets out an exasperated sigh, “You have to convince me you can handle a blaster. I'm not going to waste my time if you don't know the first thing about them. If you're good enough- I'll teach you."

"Ah, but how do I know you won't just say I'm trash, so you don't have to keep your end of the bargain?"

Crosshair smiled again, it was his turn to push forward, taking ground, “Afraid you're not good enough?" He clicks his tongue, "If you're not up to the challenge–"

"Fine. It's a deal."

Taglist: @anxiouspineapple99 @wings-and-beskar @starrylothcat @secondaryrealm @arctrooper69 @blueink-bluesoul @littlemissmanga @wolffegirlsunite @dystopicjumpsuit @idontgetanysleep @clonemedickix @sunshinesdaydream @followthepurrgil @yubnubhub @freesia-writes

#RebelWrites #Sunflowers & Blasters #Chapter 3 #Crosshair x OC #OC Isabella Ramot #OC Medic #star wars fan fiction #Star Wars TBB #Crosshair #bad batch crosshair #the bad batch #tbb #bad batch hunter #hunter the bad batch #star wars bad batch

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kyuusberry · 3 months

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assign you're moots to an idol & a trope for valentines 🤭? and explain why 🤭?

key to your heart | moots - imagine

pairing: moots x idols

genre/theme: fluff, many different tropes lol

warnings: kissing, cursing

notes: all of my stories, oneshots, drabbles, ect are all fiction (fake/made up) except for the idols!! my stories do not depict how these idols actually act or their sexual orientation (straight, lesbian, gay, bisexual, aromantic, ect). the only time you'll ever read semi-true things is if it's my headcanons then i do use some facts from kprofiles and sometimes youtube videos but that's it.

a/n: before we start, i'm going to sincerely apologize because i've never done this before, so this will be a struggle.. the only time you'll ever see me write male idols as well because i gotta create a variety for this type of stuff!! also, i only have 3 moots atm, so that's sad lmao

credits (tropes): @delusionisaplace , @urfriendlywriter

cis men, homophobes, racists, 20+, smut accounts dni

female idols:

kai (@rosiehrs): i feel like ningning (aespa) tbhh! your personalities match a lot! and i think a stay with me tonight trope where ningning would be playing with your hair while watching a movie and after the movie, you say that you have to leave, but she doesn't want you to leave!! she would say something along the lines of "don't leave me alone.. please?" she'd be attached to your hip, wanting to shower you in hugs and kisses all of the time!! just wants to show her affection :((

ash (@aeriniee): giselle (aespa) with a grumpy x sunshine trope!! gigi is totally the type of person to not show her affection cause she's too shy!! just randomly hugs you and hides her face in your neck!! or whenver you hug her, she either stiffly hugs you back or just stands there like an npc, all flustered. she looks and seems so mean all of the time, but she's such a softie on the inside, spoiling you with gifts and stuff.. chose this because i think you're honestly like this trope sm!! so nice and loving :( these r just sounding like headcanons at this point LMAO

yin (@yinyinwon/@so-lychee): wonyoung!! (iz*one & ive) and maybe like a fake dating trope??? cause wony wants to get back at her ex or smth lmaoo!! she'd end up falling in love though! i feel like it would be something along the lines of her asking you (more like bribing you) in the bathroom because she wants to get back at her ex for leaving her, trying to convince them to take her back, telling you stuff like, "they're looking. kiss me. now." until she falls in love with you, completely forgetting about her ex and telling you stuff like, "forget them, i'm yours now." gdhkaldskxndbv i want this for myself aw chose this 'cause i lowkey think you'd fit with wony!! ur posts are so pretty and your personality is very beautiful lol

male idols:

kai (@rosiehrs): hyunjin (skz) for sure!! with an academic rivalry or something! he'd be so cocky whenever he gets better grades than you by like 1 point or something!! bothers you 24/7. always appears when you're doing something other than working/doing schoolwork like taking a break or texting your parents!! everyone thinks he has a crush on you and he always denies it!! i chose this trope and idol cause i think you're very nice and smart!! picked hyunjin 'cause he fits this lol (in my imagination)

ash (@aeriniee): soobin (txt) with one-sided love probs?? like he really likes you and he tries not to make it obvious?? but everyone thinks he's obvious!! loves giving you gifts and affection (hugs, holding hands, ect) such a sweet baby tbhhh!! says stuff like, "your smile is pretty." while smiling so sweetly gkdlksjb based this off of your post asking if u should come out as lesbian cause you haven't liked a boy since the 8th grade LMAO, but soobin cause ur both very funny and caring!! leader material as well.

yin (@yinyinwon/@so-lychee): jungwon (enhypen) ofccc! (it was because of ur user..) a chaotic duo, i feel like! nothing romantic, just pure friendship! you two would do everything together, some crazy shit too.. people would honestly think you two were drunk!! would be something along the lines of, "bitch, what the hell are you doing!" "i'm walking!-" then one of you runs into a pole or whatever.. chose this because you two are the sweetest people everrr! so adorable <33

a/n: hope you enjoyeddd!! this made my head hurt a lot lmao, so much thinking and trying to match idols.. mooties, i hope these didn't make you uncomfortable lmaooo!!! love you guys and happy valentines <33 i'll take you guys all on a virtual date sometime /j

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