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#which means I can go back to working on my fics now
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Hello! Good days to you!! I was wondering if there are any more accidental love confession fics??? I've checked out your tag, but there's few; I've read them all,,, so sorry if this is too much to ask for! Thank you always for the wonderful work!! <3<3
Hi! We do have a healthy #accidental love confession tag, but sure, here are more to add to the collection...
An Impulsive Knight In Dark Armour by anywh3r3y0uwant2g0 (G)
Crowley saves Aziraphale from a plane crash. Aziraphale reprimands him for going into the dangerous situation. They're fighting, emotions are running high, who knows what might accidentally slip out?
Snakenoises by Lilian (T)
What if Crowley confessed accidentally, and then got so overwhelmed he could only make snakenoises for minutes? A getting together scene featuring one very cool demon, a finally no longer angsting angel, and a lot of soft fluff.
saying something stupid (like I love you) by gazing (G)
“Night, angel.” Crowley yawns. “Love you.”
from my heart all love by scienceblues (T)
Tucked away near the back sits a rack with a small selection of illustrated cards with various anthropomorphic objects on the front, and he catches himself wondering who on Earth might like this sort of thing. They’re all unbearably twee. Which means, of course, that he knows just the angel who might appreciate one of them.
I’ve no intention of confessing today by IneffableDoll (T)
Crowley, in a drunken fit of inspiration (read: idiocy), miracles a love letter to the bookshop.
Leave A Message After The Beep by MmmmToast (NR)
- post Armageddon - When Crowley and Aziraphale are drinking at Aziraphales book shop Crowley gets considerably more drunk than Aziraphale and accidentally confessed his love for the Angel. Before Aziraphale can reply Crowley is gone and locked himself away in his flat. Aziraphale now had to find a way to get to Crowley before it is to late.
- Mod D
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wren-kitchens · 11 hours
Text
so shiver, but shiver with a friend
1034 words
the boat is creaking. that's not even remotely abnormal; the boat spends more time creaking than it does staying silent—gem built it so it would do that. sure, it took a lil' getting used to, but it didn’t take long for the rhythmic rocking and gentle creaking to become conducive to sleep, and now gem finds it far more difficult to sleep in silence. after all, silence means something is wrong—the engine rumbles if it's working, the waves splash against the sides of the boat if it's still afloat. a creaky boat means gem is still alive, and the boat is still running. but this isn’t your average ambient creaking. like she said, gem knows the noises of her little fishing boat like the back of her hand, and this is not a normal creak. this is a suspicious creak. and- sure, that might sound silly, but have you memorised every sound this boat can make? didn’t think so. 
this fic exists for two reasons, which are stiff stiffyck's love for qpr elven duo (gem and scar) and also me overthinking scar's wheelchair worldbuilding in the hermitcraft world
this could be a lot better but alas I have been consumed by depression writers block, so honestly i'm just proud this ended up as a finished fic
btw this is one of my first times writing wheelchairs, and whilst it is fantasy so things are gonna be a little different, I would appreciate if someone could tell me if I did something wrong/insensitively!
the boat is creaking.
that's not even remotely abnormal; the boat spends more time creaking than it does staying silent—gem built it so it would do that. sure, it took a lil' getting used to, but it didn’t take long for the rhythmic rocking and gentle creaking to become conducive to sleep, and now gem finds it far more difficult to sleep in silence. after all, silence means something is wrong—the engine rumbles if it's working, the waves splash against the sides of the boat if it's still afloat. a creaky boat means gem is still alive, and the boat is still running.
but this isn’t your average ambient creaking. like she said, gem knows the noises of her little fishing boat like the back of her hand, and this is not a normal creak. this is a suspicious creak. and- sure, that might sound silly, but have you memorised every sound this boat can make? didn’t think so.
anyway, all of this to say that gem is pretty sure someone is on her boat at the middle of the night for what she deeply hopes are not nefarious reasons. although, she cannot think of any reason someone would be sneaking onto her boat at two in the morning—nefarious or otherwise. maybe it's grian trying to lag some things out of her chests? but why on earth he wouldn't do that in the day when she wasn't on board, gem has no clue.
there's a new noise now, one that suggests against the idea of nefarious deeds, but only confuses gem more: a kind of squeaking, like a rubber ring being taken off, or an air mattress being slept on. okay, that doesn’t rule anything out at all, and only serves to make everything far more complicated. who is bringing a rubber something onto her boat at 2am? what is happening here?
overtaken by an amounting curiosity to whatever the hell is actually going on, gem climbs out of bed and pads softly along the floorboards in her slippers to her door. she regrets not installing one of those peepholes, because now she actually has to engage with the something that's happening outside in order to investigate. gem is sure there isn’t anything especially dangerous that could be going on, but she pulls out her sword preemptively as she opens the door slowly to find-
to find..
well, she's not sure what she's found.
"gem!" says a cheery scar, who is. on her boat? how is he on her boat- he uses a wheelchair, and the boat is in the middle of the river.
except- no, hang on, his wheelchair seems to be completely lacking wheels, which gem would argue is the main point of a wheelchair. where the wheels should otherwise be, there are floatation devices—seemingly rubber, which explains the noises gem was hearing earlier—in patented hotguy colours, so she assumes that's intentional. okay, that's- that sure is something.
"you-" gem scrambles for any words to express how bizarre this situation is and fails miserably. "you’re on my boat." is all she manages. void, it is way too late (early?) to be trying to figure this out.
"I am on your boat!" scar says, looking rather proud of himself. it's kind of sweet, to be fair—even as it only adds to the crazy situation. "y’know, I didn't think i’d actually manage it. last time I tried, I sunk."
gem blinks, giving up on making sense of the situation now and letting herself just go with the bizarre. "yeah, I can imagine why scar." she gestures at the rubber wheels (they look a bit like wheels, anyway). "how did you get those?"
"cub helped me!" scar smiles, as if this was a normal conversation to be having. does he even realise how strange this situation is, or is this just normal for him now? "see- you know how my chair has an elytra mode?"
"uh huh."
"well, now it has a swimming mode!" scar says, and he clicks a button on the underside of the seat. within an instant, the floatation devices deflate, replaced swiftly by the regular wheels. "ta da!"
"that- I mean, that's very cool." gem says, and she means it, despite how unenthusiastic she knows she must sound. in her defence, it is the middle of the night. "I just- why are you here?"
something changes in scar's expression immediately, and gem panics a little until scar says meekly, "it- okay, well. now it sounds silly."
gem snorts. "because showing off your inflatable wheelchair at two in the morning is normal?" she tilts her head, and her voice is fond when she says, "you know you can tell me anything, right?"
a smile tugs at the corners of scar's lips, and gem feels something warm in her chest to see it. "I know, I know." he hesitates for a second, before giving a huff of exasperation. "I wanted a hug." scar admits, glancing at the floor.
"wh- scar." gem finds herself beginning to smile. "do you really think I would ever turn down a hug from you?"
scars grin is almost shy as he opens his arms, and gem practically falls into them, burying her face in his jacket. man, she has missed hugs from scar; she loves the way they fit together so well, like pieces of a puzzle, perfectly matched to one another. there are very few places where gem feels entirely at home—she's been pretty much everywhere, so she knows what home feels like—and scar is closer to home than any place has ever felt to her.
before she knows it, scar has scooted forward just enough to unbalance her, and she lands on top of him. gem scoffs playfully as scar laughs to himself, holding her closer.
"I can't hug you properly if you’re stood up, y’know." scar mumbles into her hair.
gem rolls her eyes, fond as anything. "well, i’m not complaining." she's quiet for a moment, letting herself appreciate the moment—breathing it all in. "I love you." gem murmurs.
scar squeezes her, and gem can almost hear his smile when he says, "I love you too."
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sluts4matt · 1 day
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Hiiiii Ik you are not Latina but you write for latinas (which I’m so thankful for btw because I can’t find many Latina reader fics as a Latina) but I wanted to ask that if you are comfortable with it and you know anything about it if you could right a fic about Latina reader dating either Chris or Matt and her introducing them to stuff like pan dulce, tres leches cake, flan, Hispanic candy and big family parties just how they would react to all of it. Again this is only if you are comfortable with it I don’t want you to feel pressured to do it at all I just really love your work so I had to ask.🫶
TRADITION
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pairing: matt sturniolo x mexican!reader
summary: family get togethers happened once every year, this year you were more than happy to bring your boyfriend to share your traditions with.
warnings: swearing, fluff, small argument between reader and their cousin, kinda suggestive in the beginning, i make a small joke about white people which could set a snowflake off so 🤷‍♀️.
word count: 2074
authors note: i can't tell if i like it or if i feel like i didn't do your request justice. i'd like to say that i've never had flan myself, but like everything else i mentioned i've eaten before. (twas not made by white people)
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you and matt had been dating for basically a year now. and while obviously your parents, and close family knew matt, your tía’s and tíos did not. however, this month your tía cindy was hosting a family get together.
they typically happen one time each year, each family member hosting a year. last year, your parents hosted. "i think you should come with me to my family get together," you mutter to matt, running a hand through the boy's brown locks as he laid his face on your chest.
the two of you were currently cuddled up in your bed, the babadook playing on your tv. your phone was resting on your pillow next to your head, your phone going off because of the groupchat you were in with your cousins.
"that would be cool," he mumbled, nuzzling his face into your chest. you could feel his eyes close against your skin, obviously meaning he was tired.
"i can introduce you to them as my boyfriend," you spoke quietly, almost as if you were trying not to scare him off, though a small smile was on your lips. though in reality you didn't know how you would. bro had seen you in all your naked glory, as well as seen you breakdown on many occasions.
there really was no scaring him away.
matt pulled his face from your chest, propping himself up on his elbows. the chain he wore dangling in front of your face as his blue eyes stared into your brown ones. "yeah?" he said, a teasing tone in his voice as he tilted his head.
you could feel your face heat up as you rolled your eyes, lightly pushing his face away. "don't tease me, asshat." you pout, looking away from the boy above you.
matt laughed, moving his face back down to press kisses to the top of your breast, before peppering kisses to the valley of your breasts and up to your neck. "i love you," he whispered, pecking your lips before pulling back, sitting back on his heels.
"so when is the gathering?" you snort at his response, "we're not witches matthew, this isn't a coven." you roll your eyes playfully. "mm, could be," he tilts his head.
"it's in a few weeks," you mutter, sitting up and grabbing your phone. you unlock your phone and click on the group chat, seeing what was going on. you rolled your eyes at the chaos that were your cousins.
"fun," he mumbles. "now lay back down," he states, pushing you back down. you look up at him and raise a brow. matt gives a small smile and grabs the blanket, resuming his previous position, pulling the blanket over your bodies.
he pressed small kisses to the spots his lips could reach on your boobs.
"you're such a horny bitch," you laugh, running your fingers through his hair. matt hums and shakes his head, "i am not, i'm just affectionate." he mutters, looking up at you.
"mm, whatever helps you sleep at night, babe." you tease. matt nips at your skin and shakes his head.
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the two of you walked hand in hand into your tías house. the foyer was big, decorated with art, that quite frankly you couldn't exactly say where she had gotten the pieces from.
"dios mío, mira cuánto has crecido desde él año," cindy gushes, walking towards you. she incapsulates you in her arms, giving you a good squeeze. "tía, esté es matt," you introduce the confused looking boy. "i've heard so much about you matthew," your tía speaks, her mexican accent thick.
she pulls the boy in for a hug, "so glad you could join us this year." before you knew it, she was dragging him towards the snacks. there had been an assortment of candies, as well as salty snacks. next to it was a drink table, which held different types of liquor for the adults, as well as juices and jarritos for the kids.
you were greeted by other family members as you followed your stolen boyfriend through the people. "tell me matthew," you heard your tío marco say, making your eyes widen as you rush over.
"tío, hi, so happy to see you," you squeak, interrupting, knowing that your tio had a nick for scaring the people you dated away, either that or embarrassing you.
"i was just saying that your boyfriend looks like a real gentleman," he says, slinging an arm around the boys shoulders. "he threaten you?" you ask, looking at matt. this earns a scoff, "now, would a sweet, loving tio do something like that?" he tsks.
he looks over at matt, "tell me son, would i do something like that?" he says, squeezing matt's shoulders. the boys eyes widened slightly, "u-um, no, no sir," he says.
you give your tío a glare. he simply smiles and claps matt on the back, "excellent, glad we're on the same page. now, tell me about yourself." "i'm a youtuber-" matt starts, but gets cut off by your younger cousin who had just walked up the table. "a youtuber?" she squealed with excitement, "no wonder you're so pretty."
"back off kid, this ones mine," you mumble at the ten-year-old, wrapping your arm around matt's waist.
"okay, okay, no need to get territorial," your tía says, pushing her daughter away, "now, matt, let's get you a drink." "i don't drink, i'm sober," he says quietly. she winks at the boy, tapping her tongue on the roof of her mouth. "i like you, that was a test, you passed," she stated, grabbing a jarritos. "have a jarritos."
"and for my favorite sobrina," she stated, pouring tequila into two shot glasses. "don't tell your mom about this," she says, handing you one. you took it with a grateful smile, "cheers to you having a good guy by your side for once," she laughed at the last part. the two of you clinked your shot cups together, throwing them back.
the alcohol burned going down, causing you to make a face. "you okay?" matt asks, his hand rubbing your back soothingly. "woah," you shake your head. "mhm, fine," you hum, answering him.
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everyone was seated at the table, the children sitting at the kids table. a bowl of pozole sat in front of everybody, as well as a big plate with some elote on it. "what it this?" matt whispers, ducking his head down to talk to you quietly.
"soup," you say, "tía sofia will you pass me a few limes," you ask. she nods her head, passing the small bowl over for you to grab a few. "look," you tell matt, "like this."
you squeeze the lime into the dish, "or you could just put it on top if you want," you shrug. you stir it around, adding some lettuce and onion to yours. "it's not authentic if you leave out the beats," you cousin miles whispers to matt. "literally shut up, like who asked you?" you mumble quietly, not looking to cause a scene over something as stupid as the way you like your pozole.
"here, let's try a little," you tell him, holding a spoon up to his mouth. he opens his mouth and lets you feed him. his eyes boring into yours as you do, he hums when his mouth closes around the utensil.
you pull the spoon away from his mouth and place it down, "how is it?" you ask, grabbing a piece of elote. "elote will never not be good," you state, "pass me the tajin miles."
the black-haired boy complies, sliding the bottle over to you, the plastic clanging with your glass. "thank you." you open the container and sprinkle the seasoning over the cob.
"isn't that a bit much?" matt says, tilting his head. "white people," you mutter, shaking your head as you take a bite of the corn. "no, it's never a bit much," you say, licking the tajin from your fingers.
you look up and see the eyes of your cousin miles staring at you, "what?" you say, glaring at the boy. "you're mean to him, wonder how you've kept him so long." he was obviously trying to get under your skin, it was what miles did. it was like he lived to be able to piss you off whenever he saw you.
"oh yeah, you're the fucking expert in relationships," you say, rolling your eyes. "because you haven't been able to keep somebody for more then five months," you add, looking back down to the table.
"i'm not the one who cheated on her last boyfriend," he says, crossing his arms. "miles," your aunt warns, "not here." "literally a bullshit lie and you know it," you state, getting up, walking inside to the bathroom.
matt quickly followed, leaving behind a table of people that were shocked. he walked in, closing the door behind him, and locked it.
you stood at the sink, gripping the edge as tears filled your eyes. his arms were wrapped around you, "it's not true," you mumble shakily, "i-i didn't," you hiccup. matt shushed you, pulling you closer to him.
"i don't really care if you did," he shrugs, though he knows there would have been a tad bit of fear that it could happen to him. "you didn't," he says, "but even if you did, i don't care. because you're mine, and i love you." he turns you around, cupping your cheeks.
"let's get you cleaned up," he says, using his sleeve to wipe the tears off of your face. you lean into his touch, and nod. "is it normally like this?" he asks, pressing kisses into your hair.
"miles will do or say whatever it takes to get under my skin," you mumble, "he's an immature little boy who doesn't care who's relationships he hurts," you scoff.
matt hums, and holds you close.
"i don't deserve you," you mumble, shaking your head, "i'm a mess." "then i will gladly be a mess with you so we can do it together," he mutters. "let's go back," he says, and unlocks the door.
as soon as he did, your cousin was standing there. "tía wants me to apoligiz-" "save it," you cut him off, holding a hand to his face. you and matt walk back to the table; pan dulce, flan, and tres leches cake gathered in the center of the table.
"here," your tía hands matt a piece of pan dulce. "thanks," he says, smiling at the older woman. he took the sweetened bread from her hands, tearing it in half before handing you one side. he takes a small bite, melting into his chair. "good?" you giggle, glad that most of the family was having their own conversations.
"magical," he hums, "then taste, tres leches," you state, grabbing a small plate with a slice. "tres leches is the only birthday cake i allow," you say, a smile on your face as his eyes light up. "why does this taste better then actual cake?" "because it is," you and your tía selena state at the same time.
matt nods his head and eats his dessert, looking around at all the people. his blue eyes landing on a picture that was hung on the wall. it was a photo of your abuela, the woman who raised your mom. you followed his eyes, "she was an amazing woman," you state, nodding your head.
“she would have loved you if she had the chance to meet you,” you mumble, resting your chin on the palm of your hand.
he looks over at you and smiles, grabbing a piece of flan. he puts the spoon in his mouth and hums, looking at you with wide eyes. "what is this? how did i never know this existed?" "because you never dated a bad ass latina bitch before me," you giggle.
"that's a good point," he shrugs. "and yes, flan is the shit," you laugh, "i love me some caramelized milk." matt's brows furrowed, "milk?" you hum, "milk, sugar, and eggs," you nod.
matt nodded his head and looked back at the dessert. he scooped some more and ate it. by the end of the night, mostly everyone was telling matt what a great guy he was, telling him they'd hope to see him at my cousin delorese quinceañera.
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tag list:
@hysteria-things @tillies33ssss @soimightlikeoldmen69 @sturniolossss @freshsturns @etvar12 @sstvrnioloo @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloa @chrryclouds @sturniolhoe @sturniolowhore @imwetforyourmom @novasturniolo03 @spencerstits @junovrsmp4 @breeloveschris @skyslondon @stars4chratt @monkeyscientist22 @sophssturn @hearts4chriss @l5ka @sturnlovr @blahbel668 @sturncakez @livvy4realll @raysmayhem-72 @jnkvivi
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navstuffs · 1 day
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hi!! i really love your writing and i would love if you could feed me with a request (only if you're comfortable with it, ofc) 👉🏼👈🏼 what about a leon x reader where reader is passing through a very tough depressive crisis and is really not fine mentally speaking — and leon just try to help and comfort them through this? 👉🏼👈🏼
anyway, thank you for your fics, they really helped me these days 😭💗
Anchor
Pairing: Leon Kennedy x GNPartner!Reader
Summary: It is 1 am when Leon Kennedy knocks on your door. He shouldn't be there and you shouldn't have opened it. 
Warning tags: hurt/comfort, angst, leon almost died, reader is suffering with anxiety due to past events, can be read as platonic or romantic (you choose)
Writer's Notes: hello! first of all, im sorry i took so long to write this request for you. i changed some stuff and i hope you don't mind (reader is still depressed). thank you so much your kind words and i hope this fic serves as comfort for you!! <333 stay safe anon!
for more painful leon's fics, check my masterlist. i have some happy ones too :)
It is 1 am when Leon Kennedy knocks on your door. It is the third time that week only, the fifth of the month. 
It starts when you don’t appear at work after two weeks since his return, and no one knows where you are. HR informs you are sick, which means you are still alive somewhere in the world, just sick. Okay, but sick with what? Sick how? Are you in the hospital? Do you need any help? Leon knows you don’t have family around, like him, and you are pretty much alone - like him. 
So, as any regular worried friend would, he calls and texts. He wants to hear your voice and guarantee that you don’t need help and have everything you need. That you truly are okay. No answer. HR has guaranteed him you are not dead, but what if you—no, he shouldn’t think about that.
The next step is going to your house. He knows where your address is and wouldn’t be a complete weird appearing there in the afternoon. No answer. Leon won’t be a creep as far as looking at your windows, at least not yet. He won’t go as far as busting your door and checking how you are feeling because he needs to confirm you are okay. You might just not be home.
On the second visit, Leon got awfully close to kicking your door. Before he could do that or even knock, he saw a shadow pass over the window. Though Leon told himself he wouldn’t, he looked inside just in time to see you disappear to the second floor. So, at least you are really alive, Leon’s body filling with relief. It could have been a bad case of flu, and you don’t want to contaminate anyone.
One more week passes, and he visits your house two more times. Those times you didn’t even bother to hide yourself, lazily lying down on the sofa in a way Leon couldn’t see your face (oh yeah, now he is definitely peeking out your windows). So you are genuinely ignoring him or truly sick with some contagious disease. Maybe Covid?
The fifth time he knocks on your door, it is 1 am and Leon is deeply not only worried but bitter. He was sitting in his apartment alone, wondering what you had and why you didn’t open the door for him. You two are colleagues, and Leon would dare to go as far as to call you his friend if anyone asked. How many times have you brought him soup while he was sick? Brought him meds, kept him company? Checked on him until he was finally all better?
It would be only fair if he did the same.
Leon grabs his keys without even thinking: You will open the door for him tonight. And if you don’t, well, he will kick it open. To hell with the civil approach.
-x-
All the courage slips away from his body when he notices the kitchen’s light on. Leon can’t see anything inside since you decided to make his life harder and close the curtains. So, instead of kicking that door until it’s down, Leon goes back to the gentle approach (like the idiot he is): he knocks.
The door opens not even ten seconds later, and Leon blinks, surprised. You are there. You, not a trick of his eyes: a fluffy and long blanket covering your body, only your face peeking with a familiar expression Leon recognizes immediately - he had seen in his own mirror before.
“You won. What the fuck do you want?” Those are the first words to him in weeks.
“May I come in?” 
You ponder for a moment, your eyes red, and Leon wonders when you last slept. You walk away, leaving the door open, and Leon follows inside, locking the door behind him. 
Your house isn’t in the best state. He had been here before and thought you weren’t the most organized person (“I can find myself in my own mess, Leon.”). The mess had grown too much from normal. There were tons of take-out boxes on the kitchen counter, pizza boxes, and fast food bags. At least you had been eating—not the best food ever, but feeding. He could work with that.
And the bottles—oh, those Leon would identify anywhere. You weren’t a heavy drinker, and you mentioned plenty of times you didn’t know how he liked whiskey. Now, there were countless empty bottles of whiskey, beer, and vodka, so much so that the place looked like a bunch of frat boys had a party just the night before and didn’t bother to clean.
Leon follows you to the living room as you fall onto the couch. An old Simpsons episode plays on the TV screen. There are still some bags and bottles on the floor, but fewer. Your eyes focus on the TV, not really watching or paying attention to him.  Leon stands there, keeping a safe distance from you and gathering what to say. 
“I came to check on you.” Leon starts, his eyes glued on you. “You haven’t called or texted me back. The HR said-”
“I am sick. I wanted to be left alone.”
“I know, but-”
“I could complain about this to HR, you know? It could be considered an invasion of privacy, and you could lose your job. “
“I was worried about you.”
“You saw me in the window that day, didn’t you? I’m alive and breathing. Now get out.”
You hide your face in the sofa, conversation clearly done on your side. It feels like an impossible battle to win. Leon then tries again, “Do you need anything?” 
“No. Get out.”
He sighs, turning on his heels. Leon wants to say you can call if you need him, any time, but Leon knows you wouldn't. This is an impossible battle to win, Leon realizes as he starts to leave. But then he freezes, a memory piercing his thoughts. Leon comes back to the living room, your face still hidden.
“No.”
“What?” 
“I am not leaving. Not before I know what is wrong.”
“I am sick.”
“Yes. So I have heard.” 
You don’t turn to look at him, and that’s fine. If you want to be stubborn, so could he. Leon can wait. The episode on the TV finally ends, and as the familiar opening plays in the background, you slowly turn in his direction, one eye appearing first, then the other, as if expecting Leon would be gone by now. Unlucky for you, Leon S. Kennedy didn’t give up that easily, especially for his friends.
“I don’t know what you are feeling, but I know that face.” His voice manages to sound neutral.
Of course, he does. Of course, your partner, the legendary D.S.O veteran, would know. You, just a newbie, would have no idea what he went through, but Leon didn’t seem the kind of person to crumble for anything. Leon would probably be fine if you were the one to get shot, not him. He wouldn’t have panicked, he wouldn’t have started crying, screaming for someone to help them, losing themselves in a sea of despair and pain.
“Hey…”
Blood. So much blood in your hands. You are useless, you can’t help him as Leon’s face loses color-
“Hey.”
He deserved someone better—someone much better as a partner—not you, a weak agent who thought you were strong enough to stand by his side. Oh, how wrong you were.
Leon calls your name, more urgent this time, and your line of sight is filled with the face of the man you considered your friend right at your path—concerned blue eyes, his hair tickling against your face. His forehead is in concentration, the faint ghost of a beard, as he speaks soothingly. “Hey, look at me. You are safe. Deep breaths, come on.” 
The visions mix as you blink: Leon losing blood in your arms, unconscious, back to being safe, his worried eyes staring at you.
Your rapid breathing noise fills the room, your heart wanting to burst as the pain spreads over your body, the pain worse than being stabbed or punched. You keep your eyes on Leon - he is fine, he is safe, he is well, he is worried sick about you- as he continues to nod and tell you to breathe.
It takes a while, Leon’s hands on your shoulder as you finally calm down, the tears rolling freely from your eyes.
“I am sorry.” You manage to whisper. “I am so sorry.”
“You are safe. We both are safe.” Leon declares, and you take that in. Right now, yes. But what about tomorrow? What about-? “Hey, eyes open at me.” When had you even closed them? “Come on. There is no one else, just you and me. And we are safe.” 
You nod, not arguing back. Finally, you sit down, and Leon takes two steps back. “Water?” 
“I think there are some in the fridge,” you reply, cleaning your tears. Leon leaves and quickly comes back with two bottles, unbottling them for you. You shake your head, but Leon insists, and you drink in small sips, the cold liquid refreshing your dry throat. When was the last time you had any water? Or took a shower? Or slept?
Finally, you give him space on the couch to sit. Leon doesn’t, and you point your head to your side, and he sits, keeping a safe distance from you. You two say nothing for a while, simply looking at the TV to watch Bart Simpsons on his shenanigans. 
“I am sorry.”
“Would you stop that?” Leon sighs back, frustrated. 
“No. I am sorry.”
“Fine. I forgive you. Are we good now?”
“No.” 
“I knew it wouldn’t be,” Leon replies with a sad smile.
“You could have died, and I didn’t-” Leon says your name, but you continue “-let me finish. I didn’t help. I didn’t move. I did nothing.” 
Leon didn’t want to talk about this, knowing it was inevitable. The day he took a bullet for you: not one, but two. Leon noticed before you, his reflexes quicker than yours. It was his responsibility anyway.
You only watched, shocked, as the bullet pierced his leg, then his chest. You didn’t move or flinch; you just froze, your hands closing and opening nervously as Leon fell right in front of you. You had been fortunate that the backup team had arrived on the other second, finding in the middle of the swarm of bullets a screaming you protecting Leon with his own body, all training thrown out of the window. You two should have been dead. Life had given you and him another chance, since no other vital organ or vein of Leon had been damaged.
You don’t remember much after except asking for your resignation that same day and getting a “No” as an answer. So you decided to get on sick leave until some higher-up got tired and fired you.
“I did nothing.” Leon tries to interrupt you again, but you continue, “You could have died, and I did nothing.”
“It wouldn’t be your fault.” 
“What? Of course, it would!” 
“No, it would not.” 
“Can you fucking stop trying to make me feel better?” Your tone is so angry, so vile, that Leon almost flinches. 
Death is always in the back of his mind. Every time he is out there, he could die. He is expandable; they all are, but he couldn’t just let you die. You a much smarter version of what he once was during Raccoon City. The same bravery, but not foolish as his. Much sharper. Leon knew why he got paired up with you in the first place, the irony not completely lost in him. 
It would have been fine if Leon died that day he protected you, but not okay if you did. Not on his watch. Not now, not ever.
“I can’t help it,” Leon replies, a sad smile on his lips. “I can’t help it, especially when a friend needs my help.” 
A friend? 
Do not grow attachments. Wasn’t that your first lesson? It had been hard to be paired up with a man who hated it at first, then to learn how to laugh at his silly jokes or admire how far Leon would go for anyone. For anyone, except himself, stupid brave man.
You open your mouth and close it, simply lying against the sofa with your eyes closed. 
“So, let me help you?” His voice is warm and inviting. 
It would be best if you said no. You should kick this man out of your living room, out of your life, and never go back to that stupid job fighting an endless battle that would end with you dead or someone you cherished dead. You don’t know how Leon does it, but as you open your eyes, his blue eyes look straight at you awaits in hope. Waiting to comfort you, support you to the best of his abilities, and be your friend.
The pain is still there, vivid in your soul and mind, but there is hope. Right there, in that tiny spot you gave Leon S. Kennedy. That’s why you shouldn’t have opened that damn door, you realize, but it is too late. You limit on nodding.
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olderthannetfic · 2 days
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I just got a comment saying I should have tagged for dom/sub undertones and I'm a little confused. In canon, this guy always bosses his wife around re: doing shit that's healthy for her - napping, drinking water, remembering to eat more than once a day, getting more than 3 hours of sleep - and she lovingly calls him "Boss Man" as a nickname because of it. On some occasions where she's gone more than a day without eating he'll swipe her phone and order her to eat before she gets it back, something she always seems to find endearing. There's a lot of 'I didn't mean to worry you', 'you're worth worrying about, now here's your favorite homemade walnut bread' stuff, all there in canon, just lifted from canon and transplanted into my fic.
Is this dom/sub stuff? I'm aroace so I've never been in a relationship, but I assumed "take care of yourself" "I will but I will call you a silly nickname over it" was regular relationship stuff. Or is it that the frequency of it makes it dom/sub stuff, and I'm just not grasping that because my neurodivergency is making me not read the social cues correctly? I was only recently diagnosed but this has been a problem for a long time, the whole line between normal and abnormal behavior, so I thought I'd ask you. You're much more well-read than I am and know a lot more about shipping dynamics and how they're tagged. I feel like you're an expert whose opinion carries a lot of conclusions-informed-by-knowledge and so your take could help me figure this out.
People who are doms or subs or write them, if you have a guide on this stuff, that'd be cool, too. I want to educate myself more so I know if I should tag something. After all, I can't get my story to people who want to read it if it doesn't show up in the tags they're searching for. Readers aren't mindreaders. It's on me to make sure they can get ahold of the things they're looking for. I just need to work around my own ADHD-addled brain to do it.
--
I think this is the usual pattern of demanding silly tags that would only make sense in that reader's own bookmarks.
Yes, caretaking and food control of various kinds can be a part of BDSM. No, your description of canon does not make it sound like this has obvious undertones.
Readers are going to have different interpretations. It's possible that other readers would agree with this one. I have my doubts. I suspect they're projecting. But sure, maybe other people would think there was some of that vibe.
However, if you did not intend the fic to read this way, I would not add the tag. This is not what the fic is about.
--
As for what this kind of thing can look like when it is intended as a dom/sub activity, the movie Secretary has a bunch of examples. She calls him on the phone to tell him what her family's dinner looks like that night; he gives her instructions about which things she can eat how much of. The way she acts while making that phone call makes it clear it's an exciting game to her. Another time, he tells her she's not allowed to cut herself anymore: he will provide what she needs.
Even if the characters are being playful, just nagging someone to do basic self care doesn't really come across as this. It's more charged when it's an intentional power exchange thing.
It's more like... hmm... if you and a friend agreed to LARP as characters for a day. Even if you were acting fairly normal and doing things you'd often do anyway, there would be this added extra vibe to it that someone who knew you well could probably detect.
It's not so much about the specific behaviors: it's about the extra meaning those people ascribe to them. If it doesn't seem like the canon characters think of this caretaking any specific way and you, as the fic author, don't see it that way, then I don't think it will generally read as a dom/sub thing to most readers.
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karenandhenwillson · 15 hours
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Fandom and Ships
In the last couple of weeks, we have seen the number of fics in the Bucktommy tag skyrocket. Which is pretty exciting and amazing and a clear sign of how very excited the fandom is about this development. But of course there is also backlash, mostly from people who suddenly see their preferred ship in danger. (Honestly, when has a canon ship ever stopped fandom from shipping the people involved with other people instead?)
It's expected that some Buddie fans are disappointed. It's also expected that they would lash out (though, I had hoped people could for once remember there are adults and just because everyone is anonymous in online spaces doesn't mean there aren't people sitting behind those keyboards getting hurt by baseless accusation of racism and other things). I should probably not be surprised they are now also using the low engagement we have always seen with Henren as a weapon.
So, let's talk about fandom and ships.
There is no question that there has since season 2 always been the most engagement with Buddie content in this fandom as a whole. People saw the chemistry between Buck and Eddie and ran with it. Compared to that, the canon couples have all barely any content.
But if you look at any fandom at any point in time, there is a clear pattern between canon and fanon ships. There are only very few select fandoms where canon couples ever got a lot of engagement. Of the various fandoms I've been part of, I can only think of one at the top of my head.
I think the reasons are pretty simple. 
First of all, the fans get that couple on their screen pretty regularly. They don't have to wish and hope for it, don't have to search for the little details that will validate their headcanon. They don't have to go into fandom spaces to find content for that ship. They can just lean back without any kind of effort and enjoy this ship right on their screen.
And then second, those who do create fan content for those canon ships have to balance a very fine line. What of the canon facts will they dare to contradict to create their own content in fanfiction? (Fanart, videos, gif-sets are probably a little easier there.) Where and when do they deviate from canon? Is there even anything they feel is missing from canon that they want to see in fan work? Do they want to risk contradicting anything that will be established in canon later on? Usually, this conundrum leads mostly to short fics about missing scenes, but nothing truly epic. At least not as long as the there is new source material fairly regularly.
People creating content for purely fanon ships don't need to bother with most of those questions. Because they are deviating from canon anyway. It doesn't matter much then how far they go with that. Everything canon that comes later will just be dismissed with a shrug. Everything canon that happened previously and they don't like can be dismissed just as easily because they are already dismissing parts of it.
Then there is a clear divide between hetero, maleslash and femslash content, no matter if canon or fanon. There are probably people much better suited to get into the gritty little details about that. I'll just share some thoughts I have about any of those ships in this fandom because of my experience as a fanfiction author.
I've always been writing and telling stories. And I started writing fanfiction pretty early on, too, because I found a lot of freedom there in the content and relationships I could explore. Looking back, I've always mostly written maleslash. But I've also always had hetero and femslash pairs in my works. Have had works that focus solely on those pairs.
I know as a teenager I wrote mostly maleslash because I just got a lot of engagement for that. And back then that was a great motivator to publish my fanfiction. It's not my motivation to publish now anymore and it's never been my motivation to write at all. So there are some stories about hetero or femslash couples on my hard drive that I just never published back then.
For 9-1-1, I've been writing many of the ships there are. More than once I focused on characters who don't get much attention otherwise, not even in canon. I have some femslash stories published, most of them Henren. They don't get many klicks. And the comments I get are from friends I actively talk to very often who just read about anything I publish. Or from some very dedicated readers who I seem to have enamored enough with my writing that they'll follow me into pretty much any rabbit hole, I think.
I like Buck and Eddie a lot as characters. I adore Christopher. So, I enjoy creating for them a lot. But I also enjoy creating for the other characters and I'm scratching that itch regularly. But no matter the reason for why I write (because the stories are just in my head and the only way to get them out is to write them down), sharing what I create is more fun when I'm finding engagement over it. So, there are stories that are outlined or even fully written who I'll maybe never publish.
Where were all those Buddie fans in the past who now complain about the missing content for Henren? Where was their support for those who have written Henren all along only to be practically talking into a void? (Right, just as it was never about queer representation for some people, it was never about Henren either. No matter what they say now. They are just searching for the next thing the mob might be latch onto so they can pretend they are right.)
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liveforjeongin · 15 hours
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Go On...
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This is literally the first fic I've ever written that's not a request so I feel very proud of that
I wrote this one thinking on my baby (@itzsana-kiddingmenow) (and with her indirect help-) so I hope it's good enough and just as amazing as she is<333
-tickle fic, if you don't like that you can keep scrolling
lee!Jisung ler!Changbin
requested by: no one
warnings: ticklish kisses, nuzzles, kinda short(???
taglist: @itzsana-kiddingmenow @channieissocute125
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Hannie was in his room, doing nothing more than staring at the ceiling, kind of bored but not really.
Changbin had just finished writing a new song he had been working really hard on, and was really proud of it, he wanted to show it to someone, just to listen to some other opinions.
Of course the first people he wanted to show it to were the other 2 members of 3racha, but small problem, Chan wasn't at home at that moment.
That didn't stop the rapper, he went to show it to Hannie anyway, he can tell Chan once he's back.
"Hannie? You awake?" Binnie asked when he entered the room, even though it was only 8pm, you never know with Jisung.
"Oh hey, hyung. Come in" Sung waved the older, moving a little so he can lay down next to him.
Bin sat on the younger's bed showing him his phone with his new song "What do you think? I think is good, but probably not my best job"
Hanji read it carefully "This is amazing, hyung!" He said after a while, returning the phone to his hyung.
The dwaekki smiled softly "Oh, well... I think it's good, yes"
He then felt a bit affective, so he cuddled his dongsaeng, nuzzling a little on his neck.
Hannie giggled a little at this "Hyuhuhuhung..."
Bin just continued at it "What?"
"Yohohohou're..." Sung couldn't complete the sentence, the word was too much for him.
But Binnie finally realized what he was doing "Oh. Am I tickling you?" He stopped "Sorry, I didn't mean to" he said to the younger, just cuddling him now.
The quokka boy couldn't help but pout
He didn't want him to stop
But couldn't ask for it... He was too flustered to do so, so he just kept pouting, hoping his hyung realized and helped him.
However, Changbin seemed to be oblivious at Hannie's wishes, and even closed his eyes, getting comfier there with his dongsaeng.
Jisung didn't want to ask him to tickle him
But ended up doing it anyway
"H-Hyung..." He called him as tapped his shoulder
"Yes?" The older opened his eyes and looked at him
"I... Didn't really want you to stop..."
Changbin didn't understand at first, but then realization hit him.
Hannie wanted him to tickle him
And he will gladly do it
Almost immediately, the dwaekki sat on the younger's hips, raising his arms above his head, to immobilize him.
"You ready for it~?" Bin teased, to which Hanji nodded shyly
The older decided to start on a spot he knew Hannie loved: his belly. Started scribbling gently but extremely tickly all over it, provoking some cute giggles out of Jisung, besides a cute blush on his cheeks as well.
"Awww~ Is this good, Hannie?" Binnie asked, kind of teasing, kind of actually asking.
Han could just nod, making the ler grin.
Soon, Changbin changed of spot and technique, now starting to squeeze his younger's side, making his way to his ribs as well, not limiting at just one side of his torso, but going for the other one too.
Hannie, meanwhile, couldn't do much than giggle and blush. He was totally loving this, and Bin knew that.
Changbinnie felt like trying something he hadn't before, not sure if he should, but risking anyway.
He leaned down a little, blowing some air on Sungie's ear, not expecting it to tickle him that much, but it certainly did.
"OH MY GOHOHOD, that's bahahahad hyung!" Bin just grinned at his strong reaction, and, using the fact he was close to it, decided to give him little ticklish kisses on his neck, while whispering some teases he knew would have him bright red, while at the same time, the tickling on Han's sides and ribs got a little bit rougher. "You just love this too much, hmm~? You can't take it~? Too bad~ You asked for it, you're stuck here~"
Jisung's face soon was extremely red, he was too easily flustered for this- But despite of that, he didn't want it to stop just yet, so didn't say anything.
They kept it like that for a while, until Hannie thought he really had had enough "OkaHAHAHAY hyung! StohohohoHOHOP IT Now please!"
Bin of course stopped immediately, and got off the younger "I'm sorry, was it too much...?" He asked concerned when he saw Hannie panting slightly
But Sung of course shook his head "No, hyung... It was great..." He hugged him "Thank you..." Mumbled shyly
Changbin just smiled softly at him, hugging him and rubbing his back "No problem, Hannie"
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I liked this one😻
I feel it's too short, but good anyway
I hope y'all like it as well :3
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igbylicious · 3 days
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so um. @wooyoungisbaby Isak made inquiries abt whichever way Woosan & orgasm denial, how often it happens, whether Wooyoung ever gets to deny San, and oh boy my brain started buzzing lol! it was too long to answer in the replies, so this is ummm, technically a hard thoughts post i guess? very self-indulgent, very stream-of-consciousness
sex-related Woosan musings ahead, with an obvious warning for orgasm denial, but also mentions of dacryphilia & overstim (and somehow it’s abt 700~ words?! brain why?!?!?)
so yes, in pt1 Wooyoung was on a sex ban and didn’t get to cum until he and San were back from their trip lol.
in my head, San does this kind of thing on occasion, but not too often; he doesn’t overdo it bc that will genuinely upset Woo at some point lol. (also bc it means San doesn’t get to fuck Wooyoung either, and San doesn’t want to go too long without fucking Woo :C in like, a sickeningly tender way :C that man yearns for it :C )
also a ban for an entire week like in pt1 is very rare! the opportunity just presented itself bc they’d be with San’s family for the first few days; San had mixed feelings abt getting it on at his parents house, and Wooyoung got snarky abt it so San was like ‘ok i guess you are getting NOTHING for this WHOLE trip then ¯\_(ツ)_/¯’
(ps: now that reader is also in the mix, there are some fun new levels of potential torture to the concept of putting Woo on a sex ban ✪ ω ✪ )
~
for edging / denying Woo during actual sex; yeah that happens a lot lol — but multiple orgasm overstim is almost just as likely! San loves to change it up; but any given time they have sex, there’s decent odds that either one or the other will happen to Wooyoung… or both if he has the energy >:3
either way, both are real solid methods for San to almost guaranty he’ll have Woo crying before it’s over and what can i say? that man likes his Wooyoung a ruined, teary mess lol
~
as for whether Woo denies San…
well. in pt6 Wooyoung did know that San would let himself get edged all day long ( •̀ ω •́ )✧
for this version of Woosan, that’s actually a rare kink with which they might fully flip the script and have Wooyoung domming San. (they do have sex without rigid d/s roles, but it’s rare for this San to get deeply subby. tragically ( ╥ω╥ ) it will kinda sorta happen in the fic one more time tho uwu)
and usually it happens when San is real stressed or overworked or otherwise having a Bad Time™
(or if Woo is really really really in the mood for it, but in that case he will have to be on his best behaviour first lol)
they’ll really take their time for it and turn it into a ゚☆*Moment*☆゚ and it’s lowkey kinda soft; Woo will tease San plenty, obv! Woo likes his San just as teary and whiny as San likes his Wooyoung lol
but Woo is also acutely aware that he is in the caretaker role for once, and that the goal is for San to feel good and relaxed afterwards ♡ so much bodyworship, soooooooo much praise and cuddling in the aftercare <- and the praise goes both ways, bc San is so proud and grateful to Woo for taking care of him like that ;;
(and ofc when Woo’s subbing, he will ABSOLUTELY pull an edge on San if he can; just to multitask at being a menace AND give his boyfriend a lil treat hehe)
~
…but to come full circle, i’m not convinced that an attempt to put a sex ban on San would work out so great for Wooyoung asdkjadsjk
honestly i’m on the fence whether San’d immediately shut it down bc being the target of punishment is not his thing — but i could see Woo trying it just to be a brat, OR Woo pulls a stunt like ‘you sex ban me? good luck i sex ban you right back’ lol
which derails into an outright battle of endurance bc these two guys are not just incredibly horny but also stubborn asdkjasdjk. honestly they can’t even hold out for that long bc of aforementioned horny-ness and bc they are whipped for each other, but dear god both of them are so fucking stupidly desperate by the time they cave in and shamelessly hump each other again lol oop — and it does cumulate into a round of the shortest but also the MOST high-strung sex they’ve ever had ✪ ω ✪
(bless you Isak for being an enabler, i hope you got smth out of this ♡)
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fiepige · 7 months
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Compilation of EVERY single time they changed Hobie's filter in the digital version:
Left: Theatrical release Right: Digital release
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You might have to click on some of them to get a better look at Hobie, sadly I don't have a video editor that allows me to make better edits than these :')
#This took so long to make lol#cause I had to edit every scene with Hobie from both versions so I could watch them right after one another to compare them#I did this with ALL the scenes he's in also the ones where he's on screen as spider-punk#but they only changed his filters in these scenes so it was a waste of time :')#sidenote: no it wasn't it's never a waste of time to look at hobie I just couldn't use it for my GIFset lol#I also made a bouns one but I'm not allowed to post more than 30 GIFs in one post apparently so I guess I just won't add it then...#but Hobie was basically filterless during all these scenes in the theatrical version#I like that they gave him more different filters in the digital version#the only change I don't like is in the first GIFs#cause like that one post pointed out it looks like they removed his lipstick for some reason#also really wish I had a better video editor so we could get a closer look at Hobie but I did my best with what I had#also slowed some of them down to get a better look at them#been having this idea for a while and now I finally finished it!#which means I can go back to working on my fics now#hopefully lol#also lemme know if there are some other scens you guys want me to make comparisons of#cause I have both versions#the theatrical release isn't the highest quality though so if you know where I can get my hands on a better version lemme know ;)#hobie brown#spider punk#miles morales#spider man#peter b parker#jess drew#miguel o'hara#spider man across the spider verse#across the spider verse#across the spiderverse#atsv#theatrical version
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celestial-toys · 1 month
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been laying here listening to Lucky by Dermot Kennedy on loop for half an hour while thinking about Everything Stays and crying
#it’s good crying dw i am just. i have so many feelings about this story#Seven’s Celestial Commentary#Everything Stays#writing stuff#i may be stuck in bed struggling to type due to personal reasons but that will Not stop me from cooking up ideas for this fic#there is gonna be so much fucking angst and it’s gonna hurt soooooo good#the more i listen to it the more the possibilities expand#i can easily see Moon and Reader going back and forth between verses vulnerably arguing over Sun#but i can also see it being Sun and Moon getting real and discussingcougharguingover Reader#can’t decide which i like more#god i wish y’all could see this story the way it plays out in my head#next best thing would be to keep writing and sharing the story instead of vagueposting abt future plot points tho wouldn’t it lmao#and GOD don’t even get me fucking STARTED on Two Hearts…#Dermot Kennedy’s music is responsible for yet Another plot point for this story and i can’t even be mad about it. his fucking lyricsss dude#‘and so we jump to the THEATER??? in that SAME OLD TOWN???’ DO WE? FUCK I GUESS WE DO NOW!!!#picture me listening to that song and inspiration hitting me like a truck. diligently taking notes like the lyrics r instructions from God#‘she sees his face?? and HE sees HER as the LIGHTS GO DOWN???’ write that down write that down#‘the life that they should’ve had sat between them that night??’ FUCK Man yeah it sure did!!!#anyways it’s chill i’m chill. i’m very normal about my little stories and their musical inspirations!#and i’ve listened to these songs a very normal amount (translation: they will likely be in my top ten for the 2024 wrapped)#(cut to the scenes playing vividly in my head) ‘Well‚ at least I can always say that I /told/ her!’#‘I can’t relate to having a heart like that‚ Sun! With all of your wonder and your trust intact…’#like no i wouldn’t lift the lyrics directly for the song to use as dialogue but FUCk does it work well.. Lucky is such a good script for-#like- a heated conversation between my Relentlessly Positive Sun and my Apathetic Jaded Moon#‘How could our farewell mean as much as our time? Honey‚ I’ll be gone. It’s better if I’m something that you leave behind.’#‘I used to paint these trees‚ now I just scream at the sky. Honey I was wrong. Guess there’s certain things you never leave behind.’#*sobbing shaking throwing up clawing at the walls* I Am Normal About These Characters#anyways uh. on an unrelated note how many song lyrics do ya think i can cram into ES before it’s Too Many#gonna have to start getting creative with how i can incorporate more songs in a way that feels natural and not forced#even tho i am forcing it. i am forcing it very much bc i have songs with applicable lyrics and y’all Will read them one way or another
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I’m sad, I’ve had a bunch of fun cool ideas sitting in the back of my head since like new years which I wanted to use for rare pair week, but like life has been kicking my ass so I didn’t have time to even start anything and now it’s over :( guess they will just keep living in my head until next year
#this is if I’m also not dying next year… which is unlikely#don’t do what I do. don’t work full time and do school full time. especially when you’re doing a dual graduate degree program. I’m in hell#brain screams#it especially makes me sad cause when I started writing fics in the summer it made me SO happy to be writing again!!!#especially about sailor moon!!! one of my special intrests and fav shows of all time!! it makes my brain SO HAPPY!!!#as I keep telling myself - just cause I don’t make these things now doesn’t mean I can do them in the future. my ideas will still be there#I can write the fics I want and finish the YouRube videos I’ve started. I can make silly little doodles and comics and short animations#I can take my Venus plus on hikes and exploring and to wonderful places!! we can go to museums and cafes and concerts!!#we can go to the ocean and climb mountains and get lost in the forest and get muddy and wet and cold and sit by campfires and climb on logs#I can take my not fully fleshed out idea of using her and my other plushes to make a sort of live action stop motion skit video!!#I want to be creative and free and have fun and live my life and pursue my passions!!#but rn… all i do is work. work and homework and class and homework. until I’m so fatigued I can’t walk and I can’t sleep and I can’t think#to be real watching the anime and having the codename: sailor v and stars arc of the manga is like one of the few things getting me through#when I’m so tired I can’t think I have those as comforts so I’m not sitting on the couch wanting to die#I find so much comfort in existing in the space of this fictional universe and I draw strength from the characters#like sailor moon helping me get through some of the hardest fucking shit I’ve ever done in my life. and helping me remember to love myself#also lowkey helping me fight off my depression and ed and substance abuse issues#I just both get so much joy and comfort from this space but also I feel I owe it so much gratitude for kinda helping me from crumbling#I want to also contribute to this space cause it gives me joy to do so and cause i want to give back and contribute to others joy as well#like it’s a combo of I love this and want to and also as a form of gratitude i want to and also to help others experience joy I want to#but… I don’t have the time or energy now. and if my life keeps going on like this. will I ever? I’ve never let myself slow down.#idk if I ever will :( oh well
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#aaaaaaugh dude I MISS HIM i dont know what to say that hasnt already been said#but posting is so hard talking about him is so hard#every day i wait for his youtube to post a new video or for the technodad account to be like 'LOL YOU NERDS ACTUALLY FELL FOR IT'#he was just playing a long-con prank and It'll Be Fine and he just wanted to distract us while he worked on some new insane project#how am i still fully in denial 5 months later. it's almost been half a year#i cant watch his videos anymore. it was easy the 1st week and then it was impossible then it was easy again now it's impossible again#drawing in general is hard bc he was all i was drawing. he still is but im drawing WAY less and with pretty much no passion behind it#cant draw stuff for myself i just wanna draw him. partly bc of him but also bc that's where i made all my friends with you guys :(#i dont wanna go back to what i used to do. i wanna stay here. but it's really hard#i know i dont *have* to make my own posts and i can just reblog and ramble n stuff but. it feels weird not to#i save all my favorite things here. there's still clips i havent taken. art i havent made. fics i've never wrote (and never will lol)#i dont WANT to stop. it's hard to force myself to get back into it tho. there's no easy way to talk about him#it feels borderline unhealthy trying to keep it up#but i keep going into swings of ''i love it here so much i love you guys'' and ''i cant keep going im not strong enough''#so like. which is it. what's REALLY wrong??? i wish i could just go back to how things were aaaaa#idk what i mean by that really. just wish i could find some normalcy in it all whatever that would mean for me#idk if my issue is Him Being Dead or trying to run a blog for a guy who died. some combination. some secret third thing. augh#chat#tw death
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crossbackpoke-check · 2 years
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Hi! Against your tags as always are delightful!! The fun thought of the Dylan au pair idea with the usntdp boys +Mo and razor are that Mo actually hung out with zebras at the combine I think when he needed friends and didn’t know folk! So it would actually sorta work! It’s a hilarious and wonderful concept!
first of all 🥺🥰😭💕 you’re so nice and second of all OH MY GOD BELOVED ANON hold on,,, getty images don’t fail me now i can’t believe mo & z hung out at the combine i’m going batshit bazonkers i can’t even-
okay update somehow i straight up forgot jack hughes was in this draft year & while i couldn’t find any pictures i do know that mo was super beloved (funny, personable, charming) at the combine, which is super interesting to think about with trevor “fawn response” zegras and i want to put them both in a little glass jar (a lakehouse fic) and shake them up and study them (write unnecessary side interactions in a fic that’s objectively about neither of them)
#ok ok ok i know what i said but the other part of this is that i was at work today & full lightbulb moment out of NOWHERE went#dylan outsider pov of the kids trying to match make him with everyone they set him up with the dnr guy & the hot lake neighbor & the dilf#but it turns out he’s already dating someone (zach??) &i mean. this is the perfect little magnifying glass w/which to study mo/z interaction#NO ❌ WRITE ✍️😤 ONLY!! vivid daydreaming 🤧 have never felt the weight of being roasted by my horoscope so hard#liv in the replies#I’VE NEVER FELT NORMAL ONCE I HAD THIS POSF AND THE OTHER POST IN MY DRAFTS THEN S A W LARKS BEING BABYSITTERLY @ PETRY’S W/COLE#is this manifesting? is that allowed? can i return it &ask for something else? although cole is charming me gradually (it’s nick i love him)#@universe that sign can’t stop me idk how to READ (by which i mean write. or garner fortitude to follow through and/or execute a fic idea)#distilling the essence of Someone down to who they would be when they were ten years old isn’t gonna cause any instances of self-realization#i’m absolutely not having any kind of moment thinking about characteristics to keep for the younger versions of them & what their ‘base’ is#part of the appeal of de-aged fic (not in this context but in like actual ones lol) being that it’s triggered by a stressor/trauma & the#point is that they’re reverting to a version of themself that’s telling them something they need to know a lesson in who they are/their need#for a love/understanding/feeling yourself smaller in a way like you did back then to the point that it manifests physically#but flipping that in a way ig bc this is them (younger in fic) but not De-Aged (that’s not the point here) it’s just coincidentally a vessel#to imagine the interactions of mo/z as de-aged ten year olds as a proxy for their vulnerability at the combine & that one d/z couch poem—#OKAY that’s how i know it’s time to go to bed that’s a. completely different train we are not hopping on right now GOOD NIGHT#i’m so. i’m so. ????????????????????????????? babe ur kids leave for one summer & you’re having empty nest syndrome
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carakook · 1 month
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🎀 A “Coquette” Misunderstanding 🎀
“Mmm… depends. You gonna let me put a real bow on your dick? Make it all cute and coquette?”
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♡Pairings: fuckboy!Jeon Jungkook x fem!reader
♡Synopsis: Jungkook has been a self proclaimed fuck boy after his last relationship ended fairly messily… until he met you. Started out as fuck buddies, but he always had a huge crush on you. With time, he realized that he’s actually falling in love with you, and he is itching to make you his girl. He knows being a fuck boy means he has to prove himself when it comes to being serious, so he comes up with the perfect gift to give you when he confesses… only for it to turn into the biggest fucking mess.
♡Genre: Romance/Comedy
♡Word count: 5k+
♡Warnings: 18+ for mature audiences only, MDNI, mentions of sex, lewd references, lots of talk about penises, talks of being in love (ew!!!), arguing, mentions of alcohol, no smut but this fic revolves heavily around sex, making out, Jungkook is kinda stupid (bless his lil heart), also kind of weird in general? Let me know if I miss anything!
♡Disclaimer: This story in no way reflects the characters of those who are mentioned. It is pure fiction and for entertainment purposes only. Please don’t take it seriously. Nothing is real in this story.
♡A/N: This is my first request! I hope whoever requested it likes it, it was supposed to be a Drabble but I got a lil carried away… oops! The request was fuck boy Jungkook falls in love with Y/N, but there’s a misunderstanding that eventually gets resolved and they live happily every after! I have no idea how I came up with this 😭 it’s kinda silly and kinda weird but I think it’s cute. I hope you guys like it. 😅
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Jungkook finds himself wondering if he can possibly get anymore fucking stupider than he feels right now.
It seems when it comes to you, he simply loses brain cells. He’s not sure what it is about you, but anything involving you short circuits his brain as of late, and he is continuously fucking things up.
Maybe it’s because you’re so fucking pretty. Maybe it’s because the way you look at him makes his knees weak. Maybe it’s simply because he’s a man, and men are stupid… Or maybe, it’s because he had the recent revelation that for the first time literal in years, he has caught feelings.
And what’s worse is that he’s realized this isn’t just a little crush. He’s fucking in love with you, and it’s making him forget how to function.
Jungkook doesn’t catch feelings, not since his last relationship ended very messily two years ago. The way the relationship ended left a very bad taste in his mouth, so he decided to go back to his college days of being a fuck boy and never falling in love again…
Which was working for some time. It was freeing to be able go back to his old ways; he could enjoy a woman’s body and worship them like the goddesses they are, and then wake up the next day without feeling any obligation… or anything at all, really.
Until you came along.
You had been friends for years, although you were never very close. He always thought you were one of the prettiest girls he had ever seen, but he also thought you were so out of his league. You weren’t the type of girl to go for fuck boys; you were put together and had very high standards, you knew your worth. He liked that, but never really had the guts to push it because he was sure he didn’t fit those standards.
That is, until one drunken night at one of Jimin’s parties… you flirted with him heavily. It was the biggest fucking ego boost that he ever had. He never assumed you would be interested in him, because his noncommittal habits weren’t a secret. But on this night you were very obviously interested in him. You were being touchy, and sweet, and you just looked so fucking pretty.
This was the first night you slept together, and Jungkook doesn’t like admitting that you unraveled him in a way no other woman had. The sex was mind blowing. He has never felt such intense chemistry with someone before… and fuck, you gave the best head he ever gotten. He was addicted after that, he knew he didn’t want it to be a one time thing.
He didn’t want to make you his girlfriend necessarily, good sex still wasn’t enough for him to consider being with someone seriously again… but he did want to see you again. The next morning he was bashful; made you breakfast, drew you a warm bath with essential oils and pretty smelling soap, and even ordered you a very last minute bouquet of flowers to wake up to.
This alone should have told him that things would be different with you, because although Jungkook always treated a woman with love and care when they gifted him their body for a night, he never went this out of his way to impress them.
He told himself it was because he felt the need to overcompensate. In bed he’s very confident, but out of bed, he’s not as sure of himself… especially with you. He felt lucky to have a night with you, and he knew he needed to put an effort in to keep you interested in him because he wasn’t exactly your type. If he was able to keep you interested, then maybe you’d see him again.
He was right, you didn’t normally go for fuck boys. Casual sex wasn’t exactly your favorite, because men often forget to focus on the woman, too. You weren’t exactly looking for anything serious, but you also weren’t looking to sleep with some guy who only cared about himself in bed. And most hookups you had thus far ended with you less than satisfied.
It was uncharacteristic for you to sleep with guys like Jungkook, or really give them any attention at all. But Jungkook has always been pretty, and he’s always been so fucking sweet… that night at the party, he looked extra appealing to you.
Even then, you weren’t planning on doing it again. The chemistry was undeniably intense, but you weren’t a fan of sharing. There were health risks to sharing partners if one of you weren’t careful, and you didn’t like that it made you question yourself. You tried it before, and it just wasn’t for you. You like exclusivity, and that’s ok. Everyone has preferences and boundaries and not everyone will agree with yours.
This is why you didn’t plan to see him again. But when you woke up and saw all the sweet little things he did for you, you were definitely tempted… what really got to you was how he fucking looked at you; he looked at you like a love sick fucking puppy and it was the most adorable thing you’d ever seen. He was adorable. You’d never been with a man who was so fucking sexy but also so goddamn cute at the same time.
No guy had gone through such trouble after what was supposed to be a one night stand before. It was like he really was a dog; he brought you these little gifts in the form of acts of service in the hopes you would continue giving him head pats. Or, actual head in this case…
And although he wasn’t actually love sick, he definitely was a bit pussy whipped.
Temptation won in the end.
There was no spoken agreement between you two… you just started having sex regularly. And every time it was fucking toe curling. No man took care of your body so perfectly and left you 100% satisfied. But beyond the sex, you both found that you thoroughly enjoyed being around each other. You’d never knew each other well before this, you were mere acquaintances who were familiar with each other because of mutual friends, but you grew closer and got to know each other as time went on, and in the end you kept it going.
Of course you were worried about his reputation, but you didn’t push him or even ask for exclusivity. He never explicitly said that he wouldn’t be exclusive with you, but you started liking him and the sex was enough to let go of that boundary and make an exception for him. You knew he was safe and you knew he would always treat you right. This was enough for you… even if it sometimes bothered you that you didn’t know whether he was sleeping around or not. He wasn’t your boyfriend, just a fuck buddy you grew fond of.
Little did you know, he had no desire to sleep with anyone else. You didn’t even need to tell him these boundaries, because he knew without you telling him. He wouldn’t dare do something to fuck this up. The sex was so good that he didn’t have the want for anyone else, he didn’t even think about it. He still wasn’t quite ready to be serious with someone, but he was content with you in a way that he never had been any of his previous hookups or fuck buddies. He wanted to keep you as long as you’d let him.
A routine started; as time went on you spent more time together, hung out often, and fucked like rabbits. You played with his hair and scratched his back, you picked on him and made fun of him in a way that made him laugh every time, and you knew exactly how to handle him even when he was a bit overwhelming. He was so content with what you both started.
Until recently.
Jungkook started realizing a few weeks ago that maybe having thoughts of an entire future with someone who’s only supposed to be your fuck buddy isn’t exactly normal. Sometimes he’d lay awake at night thinking of you for hours… he’d imagine taking you on actual dates, not just little outings disguised as friends hanging out. He’d imagine getting to brag about you being his girlfriend. But what really started to make it obvious was when he imagined what you’d look like in a wedding dress…
Five months in and he realized he’s falling for you. He’s so fucking gone for you, and for once, he’s giddy about it.
You’d both developed this sort of playful relationship. When you weren’t fucking, you were always joking around and making each other laugh. You both had a very crude sense of humor and so many little inside jokes. It was comfortable, and he started feeling like a kid on Christmas Day at the thought of keeping it going forever.
He wanted to ask you to be his girlfriend, but he knew you’d be hesitant because of his history. He wanted to do something for you that not only would prove to you he’s serious, but something that was special. He didn’t want to get you a piece of jewelry, or a bouquet of flowers with a card; he wanted it to be something only you would experience. He wanted to go all out for you.
He recalled a conversation you both had one time over dinner at his place while watching a drama. The guy in the drama was proposing to the main character, and it was as cliche as any other drama.
“That’s so cheesy. Why can’t guys be more creative? He’s asking her to spend fucking forever with him, more thought should go into it.”
“Yeah? Well if a guy proposed to you how would you want him to do it then?”
“I dunno… but not like that. Forever is a long fucking time, whoever decides to propose to me better do something more special than a damn ring.”
“But that’s literally what a guy is supposed to do, how else would he do it? You’re supposed to get the girl a ring and get on your knees n’ shit.”
“That’s so cliche though! I dunno, I’d rather something else… like maybe a dildo that was a replica of his dick. Something to the effect of ‘will you ride my dick forever?’”
That conversation ended in laughter of course, because you were only joking… but also, as Jungkook thought back on it, it would be so fucking perfect.
Not only would it show that he remembered the little things, but it would also break the stigma that he created for himself; it would show you that he was serious, he had no desire to be with anyone else sexually emotionally, and it would fit in with your playful dynamic. Like a little inside joke, and although he isn’t asking you to marry him, he wants the message to be clear that he wants to build a forever with you.
So he did some research. He original thought about getting you a dildo that was a replica of his dick, and found that there were DIY kits he could buy to make it himself. But also… why would you need a dildo if you had him? So he researched the more artistic aspect of things and found that there were actually a lot of artists who specialized in making replica sculptures of men and women’s body parts.
He liked this much more, because he felt it was a bit more sentimental and maybe more fitting. He found one artist in particular who’s sculptures and paintings looked very realistic. In their portfolio, they featured some comparisons of the pictures that inspired the sculpture vs. the sculpture they made, and there was barely a difference. They clearly had talent, and he was totally fine dropping however much money to get this done for you.
So he contacted the artist to order a commission. It was a hefty price, because he paid to have the process expedited. He wanted this done as soon as possible because he was practically shaking with excitement at the thought of asking you to be his girlfriend. But the price was worth it. The artist asked him some questions and listened to his requests. His only request was that it would be life sized, it would have a little pink bow wrapped around it (because you loved cute things, he remembers you called it ‘coquette’ once.), and somewhere it would have ‘Property of Y/N’ on it. The artist was confident that they could have it sculpted, shipped, and delivered by the end of the week. All the artist needed was a picture of his penis for reference.
Awkward, but understandable. It was very professional, obviously if he wanted the sculpture to look like his dick the artist would need a reference photo. This was purely for artistic purposes, it’s not like he was sending nudes or getting off on it. He was doing this for you and he couldn’t fucking wait to see the finished product or hear your little giggles when he presents it to you.
But of course, in his excitement, he fucks up exponentially.
He was supposed to email the photo of his dick to the artist. So he has no fucking idea why after he took the photo, he texted it to you… probably because subconsciously, who the fuck else would he be sending pictures of his dick to? He’s not even the kind of guy to send nudes, but he has a few times with you on nights that you’re both too busy to actually meet up and have sex.
He could’ve just played it off and said something stupid like ‘surprise’, but he immediately panicked because he was afraid you’d figure out what he’s doing. Which is so fucking stupid because how the fuck would you ever guess what he’s doing?
So what does he do instead?
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He handled it very poorly, to say the least. He didn’t know what the fuck to do, and he had no idea why the told you he sent it to the wrong person. It was because it was the truth, that’s why. He didn’t really think anything of it when he admitted he sent it to the wrong person, because he had a clear conscious. Why lie when he has a clear conscious?
He panicked not because he was guilty, but because he was scared that you would catch on and the surprise would be ruined… which is so fucking stupid. Out of everything, you couldn’t possibly guess what he was doing.
He didn’t think about the implications of telling you that it was the wrong person, and it just went downhill from there. He really should have just told you the truth in that moment, but he doubts you would have believed him. The story would seem far fetched at this point because of how vague he was being in the beginning.
And you really didn’t believe him. You trusted Jungkook, but that message reminded you that you aren’t exclusive with him. He isn’t your boyfriend. He has a reputation of being a fuck boy and he’s just your fuck buddy. So it wouldn’t have been a surprise if he really was messing around with other girls considering he technically has every right to… but it still stung.
If he had come out and admitted it was meant for another girl, you would have probably been a bit bitchy about it, but you wouldn’t have fought with him over it. He has the right to see other people when you both never agreed to only see each other. It was that feeling of being lied to that set you off, you fucking hate being lied to. You have your fair share of history involving men who lie, and although you made an exception on one of your boundaries for Jungkook, you refused to make an exception on being lied to for any man.
And even though he wasn’t actually lying, how the fuck would you have known that? He’s right, if he did send you some elaborate paragraph about what the picture was actually for, and how he just instinctively sent it to you after taking it, you probably wouldn’t have believed him after he denied it so vaguely like he did.
For days he tried to talk to you. He blew up your phone, called and texted hundreds of times, blew up your Instagram notifications, and even started fucking making tweets on Twitter begging you to talk to him and let him explain (dramatic as fuck, his friends made fun of him for it, and he didn’t care because he was desperate.) You ignored him, of course, because deep down you were a bit hurt. You really couldn’t stand the thought that we was sending nudes to someone else, possibly fucking them, and then lying to you about it.
It reminds you as to why you have the boundary of exclusivity… and also makes you realize that maybe you like Jungkook a little more than you thought you did.
He’s a mess. He kept debating whether or not to just show up to your place, get on his knees and beg you to listen to him… but he knew you wouldn’t let him in, not unless he had proof of what actually happened. He feels so goddamn stupid. He could easily show up and show you the email as proof, explain his thought process and what the picture was for, what he was doing, confess that he’s fucking in love with you and wanted to do something to show you how serious he is…
But he decides to give you space. He knows that it’s unlikely you want to listen to him or see him right now, and he needs to let you cool off. By the time the sculpture is delivered, he can show up, explain himself, and do everything as planned.
It’s the longest fucking week of his life. His thoughts are consumed with you and he prays that when he does show up, it isn’t too late, and you’ll let him explain himself.
That you’ll say yes after it’s all said and done.
The next Friday, he receives the package. He nearly fumbles with it as he opens it, wanting to get this shit over with so you guys will be ok again.
Just as expected, it’s perfect. It’s obviously not the exact same as his dick, but it’s pretty fucking close. It looks exactly as you would expect a sculpture of a dick to look like. The bow that was sculpted onto it is perfect, pink and detailed, wrapped between the tip of the sculpted dick and the base. At the very bottom of the base, in tiny cursive letters reads ‘Property of Y/N’. He thinks it’s perfect, and if you find it in yourself to hear him out, he knows you’ll love it. He can already imagine your cheeks getting pink as you giggle at the absurd gesture.
He gets himself ready. He puts on some cologne, brushes his teeth, stares at himself in the mirror a little too long trying to psych himself up. He knows showing up without warning is probably not the best way to go, but he hopes that once you open the door and see him bearing gifts, you’ll be more open to listening to what he has to say.
He makes a stop on his way to your place because he impulsively decides to buy you some flowers and a cute gift box for the sculpture. He’s in a rush because he feels like he’s dying on the inside with you so upset at him. When he gets the flowers, he just stuffs a wad of cash in the florists hand before running back off to his car. He probably overpaid for them… but he doesn’t care.
He makes quick work of putting the sculpture inside of the pink box he picked out, adds a matching pink bow for good measure. Once he’s satisfied, he carefully placed the flowers and the gift box in his front seat, and nearly peels out of the parking lot in a hurry to get to you.
You’ve been sulking all damn week, because you miss him. At first you were pissed, because you swore he was lying, he just had to be. Why else would he be sending dick pics to someone? But as the week went on, you did start to question yourself. Because Jungkook had never given you a reason to not trust him, and despite that fact that neither of you have ever explicitly said it was exclusive… you know that it is.
Because when you’re both in a room full of people, his eyes never stray. When he tells one of his stupid jokes, the first person he looks for a reaction in is you. When he goes to the grocery store, despite you not living together, he always stocks up on your favs. And every morning and every night, no matter what, you are the first and last person he talks to. The little things tell you everything you need to know.
Even now, after he stopped blowing your phone up because you continued to ignore him, he made sure to text you good morning and goodnight.
So why would he lie? Why would he lie when all of the signs are there that you are his sole focus? You may be unaware of how deep his feelings are for you, but the little things show where his loyalties lay.
It’s just so hard to believe him because you can’t possibly fathom who else he could be sending nudes to, and if the reason wasn’t sexual, then why? You don’t exactly send pictures of your genitals to someone for casual or platonic reasons, so…
You’re sitting on your couch watching TV and pouting when he knocks at your door. You aren’t expecting anyone, so you have a feeling it’s him… you debate not answering the door, but in the end you do, because you’re just as irritable without him as he is you.
You open the door and keep a neutral expression on your face, you see him standing there with those same love sick puppy eyes and you nearly fold right then and there.
He’s holding a bouquet of flowers in his hand and a fairly large pink box with a bow on top. So he came prepared, it seems. You don’t know whether to be flattered or offended at the supposed bribe, but you keep an open mind.
“What do you want?” You say cooly… as if you’re not going to let him in anyway.
“Y/N can we please talk? I know you hate me right now, but please just let me explain myself. I swear this is all just a really big and stupid misunderstanding.”
He has no idea what’s going on in your head right now because you seem so calm, so collected. He wishes he could be like you, because if you don’t let him in, he swears he’s gonna cry and bang on your door until you let him. He’s not above throwing a fit at this point.
You stand there for a moment staring at him, making it seem as if you’re skeptical… but really, you just missed his pretty face.
“Fine.”
You open your door for him and he nearly fucking pushes you down when he barges his way in, afraid you’re going to change your mind.
He makes his way to your couch and sits down, pats the spot next to him and sits the gift box down on your coffee table along with the flowers.
“These are for you… open it first.”
You cross your arms and scoff at him, don’t sit down yet. You start to wonder if he’s avoiding actually explaining, wanting to butter you up first so that you’ll be more willing to forgive him.
“What? No, explain why you lied about sending—“
He holds his hand up to stop you from speaking, “Dammit, Y/N, open the damn gift first. You need to see it in order for me to explain. Please.”
You huff at him in response, because it’s kinda hot when he talks to you like that… but now is not the time to get hot and bothered. You don’t even know what his supposed ‘explanation’ is or if it’s something you’re willing to forgive.
You do listen to him though, you take a seat on the couch and grab the pink box. You take off the bow, which you love, and you carefully open up the box to reveal…
A penis. Hm.
You take it out and start inspecting it… you don’t know how to feel yet. You’ve been sleeping with him for months, you both know each others bodies very intimately, so you can immediately tell that it is indeed his dick, specifically because of the little heart shaped freckle down the shaft. You notice the bow that’s sculpted into it too, and you find yourself giggling at it without meaning to. Just like he thought you would. The entire gesture makes your cheeks warm. Such an odd fucking gift, but you already love it.
You turn it over, and you see at the base of it right above the testicles of the sculpture, in cute little letters ‘Property of Y/N’.
As weird as it is, you find the gesture so fucking cute… but you also don’t understand it. You don’t understand why he just gave you a coquette sculpture of his dick, what this has to do with the dick pic, and why it says property of Y/N, because that’s a very serious thing to put on a sculpture of his dick that he just have to you.
Before you gush over how much you love the silly thing, you ask wearily, “Ok… but like… what does this have to do with anything?”
Jungkook let’s out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding in and his heart pounds because he’s so fucking thankful you seem to be open to hearing him out.
He begins explaining hesitantly, “Yeah, right, so umm… lately I’ve been thinking… about us. And I sort of realized that I… like you. Like, a lot. Not just the sex or the whole fuck buddy thing, but I really fucking like you as a person Y/N.”
Now your heart is pounding because you genuinely didn’t expect this confession. Which in return, makes you impatient… because you like him too. But you can’t tell him that until you figure out what the fuck happened with the dick pic and wether or not you need to stop this before it starts, or forgive him, or even apologize for not letting him explain.
“Ok but what does that have to do—“
“I’m getting to that. Just… ugh, shut up, this is embarrassing.”
He looks away from you and starts biting at his lip ring. You feel kinda bad, because he really does look embarrassed about it. But oh, it is so fucking cute…
You nod at him and lean back into the couch, the sculpture in your lap as you silently agree to let him continue and try to keep your impatience in check.
He reluctantly continues, “After realizing this, I wanted to… tell you. Wanted to ask you to be my girlfriend. But I didn’t want to be cliche about it, I remember us talking about it before… so I wanted to do something special… something only for you.”
He lets out a breathy laugh and squeezes his eyes shut, because he starts overthinking a bit. He wanted to to something special for you, so he got a fucking sculpture of his dick made… ridiculous train of thought. Such a fuck boy thing to do.
“I remembered you making a joke about how if a guy proposes, you’d want it to be with something other than a ring… and I’m not proposing! But you know, it’s similar so… yeah. Fuck. Anyway, I did some research and found out that apparently dick sculpting is a type of art? And my dumb ass thought that was perfect…”
He chances a glance at you, looking up from his lashes as he sits forward and rests his elbows on his knees. So far, you seem receptive of the story… you don’t seem to be suspicious of him yet. Thank fuck.
“I commissioned an artist to make a sculpture of… my dick. For you. And they needed a picture for reference… it was all very professional. But when I took the picture, I guess I just automatically sent it to you, because I don’t do that shit with anyone else. So I didn’t think. But when I realized I texted it to you, instead of emailing it to the artist… I told the truth because I didn’t think about the implications. And I did a very fucking bad job at attempting to explain when you did start questioning it. That’s my bad…”
It’s slowly starting to make sense. The story is a bit… far fetched. But it’s so far fetched that you highly doubt Jungkook would have gone through the trouble to actually commission an artist and drop who knows how much on this sculpture just to save his ass. It may be a very specific situation, an original experience, if you will… but the proof is in the pudding, and you can tell by the look on his face that he isn’t lying.
“I should’ve just told you what happened but I doubted you’d believe me after how badly I fumbled. So I waited for the damn thing to show up. I can show you the emails back and forth with the artist and stuff too if you want… but Y/N I swear I wouldn’t lie about something like that. I haven’t fucked or even looked at another woman since we started messing around… don’t want to. Only want you. So please believe me.”
He looks at you with pleading eyes, and gives you a small pitiful smile. You do believe him. You really didn’t have any reason not to to begin with, but the miscommunication prevented you from seeing that.
It really was just some very stupid misunderstanding.
You say nothing. Instead, you set the sculpture down carefully, and you scoot closer to him. You grab his face gently, and lean in to kiss him.
Fuck. He missed your lips so bad.
He immediately kisses you back, damn near whines at how good it feels to have you again. To see that you aren’t rejecting his explanation or refusing to trust him, but you’re forgiving him. He kisses you back sweetly, one of his hands coming to the nape of your neck while the other cradles your jaw.
You pull back and murmur, “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you. Was stupid of me. Forgive me.”
He smiles so fucking stupidly at this and nudges his nose against yours. He starts peppering your face with little kisses as he says, “Forgive me for being a fucking idiot…”
One last huge smooch to your forehead, and he pulls you into his lap. He feels so much more lighter now that things are cleared up. God, he wants to fucking laugh at how absurd it all is. All week he started to regret ever choosing to get a sculpture made of his fucking penis as a way to ask you to be his damn girlfriend… who the fuck does that?
Him, apparently. And he started wishing he fucking didn’t.
But seeing you now, seeing how you’re smiling at him with the same adoration in your eyes as him, he’s thankful he did it. Sure, was a very odd gift to get you… but it suits your dynamic perfectly. And the way you giggled at it bashfully, he knows you absolutely loved it.
He reaches down and squeezes your ass as you sit on his lap, not trying to initiate anything, just wanting to touch you. He stares at you in silence for a moment, because a week away from your pretty face was far too much.
He flicks his lip ring with his tongue before asking, “So… does that mean you’ll be my girlfriend then…?”
He doesn’t mean to sound so awkward when he asks, but he’s nervous that you’ll say no because you didn’t really say anything when he explained earlier…
Stupid boy, can’t he see how much you fucking adore him? Of course you’ll say yes.
But even then, you hum in response as your hands reach up to play with his hair, as if you’re mulling it over and considering your options.
“Mmm… depends. You gonna let me put a real bow on your dick? Make it all cute and coquette?”
“Yes.”
He doesn’t even hesitate. Of course he will. Fucking anything you want if that means you’ll be his girlfriend, if you’ll let him love you and fuck you and take care of you for what he hopes is forever. And honestly, the thought of you putting a bow on his dick weirdly turns him on.
You giggle at him, lean in and press your lips against his again. You kiss him once more, a bit more tongue this time just so you can hear him pant and feel his heart beat faster against your chest.
When you finally come up for air, you say against his lips, “Then yes. I’ll be your girlfriend.”
He lets out a breathy laugh, was nervous you were going to say no. But you didn’t. And he has never felt so fucking excited or proud about something, he swears.
He can actually say that you’re his girl now. Thank god for his coquette dick.
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kiss-inthekitchen · 1 month
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same sky | spencer reid
pairing: spencer reid x reader
a late night phone call with Spencer. unruly amounts of fluff. no gender identifiers in this one. apologies to residents of las vegas, i did insult your city's aesthetics. i had to do it. for the plot
word count: 2k
notes: this is a rework of a very old fic i used to have up on ao3 by the same name. it's the second in a series of fics i've updated from my vault of oldies :) this one's for the girlies who liked the banter in no vacancy <3 oops! all banter
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“I miss you,” you say into your cell phone, standing on the back porch and gazing out at the sky. It’s late, but you can’t sleep. Spencer has been gone on a case for the better part of a week, and you don’t sleep as well without him. 
“I miss you, too. But I’ll be home soon,” Spencer replies, keeping his voice low.  
“Is everyone else asleep?”
“Yeah. It’s been a long day.”
“Where are you right now?” Even though you aren’t in danger of waking anyone up, you find yourself mirroring Spencer's tone. 
“Best guess, somewhere over New Mexico.” They’ve been in the air about an hour, and given their trajectory, he’s pretty sure he’s right. Spencer is seated at the edge of the couch, his back against the arm of it and a blanket thrown over his legs, barely covering his mismatching-socked feet. 
“How come you’re still up?”
“I wanted to talk to you,” he says. Somehow, he can feel you smiling across the line. It makes him smile, too. He doesn’t ask why you’re awake when it’s even later where you are; he knows already. "What are you doing?”
“Looking up at the stars.”
“You know, you won’t be able to see me up here.”
“Ha ha.”
“Here, I’ll open the shade on the plane window. At least we can share the same view.”
“Hm. Almost like we’re together,” you hum. 
His heart aches. It’s only been a few days and he still can’t stand it. “Almost.”
For a minute, neither of you speak, looking out at the sky from two different time zones.
“When I wake up tomorrow morning, you’ll be here, right?” 
“Mmhm. Maybe even before that,” he responds, a low, soothing hum in your ear.
“Should I stay up until you get here?” you already know what he'll say, but you kinda like the idea of it anyway.
“No, no, it’s at least another four hours. Don’t worry about it. When you wake up, I’ll be there.”
“Sounds good. I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
You’d intended to let him go after just a quick call once you realized that the rest of the team were resting not too far from him, but you don’t want to hang up. He doesn’t make any moves to do so either, wanting to hear your voice as much as you want to hear his. “So, how was Tucson?”
“Oh, you know. Hot. Desert-y. Lots of murder.”
“Less murder now.” 
“Yeah.” 
His voice sounds strained. He doesn’t like indulging in a sense of accomplishment after closing a case, doesn’t ever feel like he’s done enough. He shows up too late and does too little, and then he gets to leave while the families of the victims have to pick up the pieces. You understand why he doesn’t like to think about the work that way, but you’ve tried to remind him that the good he does is incalculable; how many lives saved, how many tragedies avoided. It’s all you can do. 
You pivot a little, not wanting him to get too caught up. “I remember, when I first moved to Virginia, I was so shocked at how green everything was. I swore I’d never seen that much green in my life.”
“I had a similar experience,” he says, fondly, aware of your tactics. 
“Oh, I can only imagine. I’ve been to Vegas. It’s icky.”
“Icky?” he asks, laughing at your word choice. 
“I mean, no offense, but… it’s kinda ugly.”
“Wow, okay, insult my hometown, why don’t you.”
You laugh. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay. You’re right.”
“I know,” you sigh. “Always am.”
“Well, statistically, you actually have a seventy-two percent chance of being right, which is still impressive, but hardly a flawless track record.”
“Spencer Reid coming in hot with the stats. I love when you talk numbers to me.” 
“I don’t think we’d have gotten very far if you didn’t.” 
“But I think I should be right more often than that.” 
“Are you asking me to fudge the numbers?” he asks with put-upon shock. 
“I’m just saying, maybe you’ve got it wrong.” 
“Oh, so you dare to challenge the accuracy of my eidetic memory? Or is it the statistics that you think I’ve calculated incorrectly?” 
“This is affecting my score, isn’t it?” 
“I’ll have to factor it in. You understand.” 
You giggle, and Spencer starts to feel some warmth come back into him after too many days of stress, doubt, and destruction. He hadn’t been able to talk to you nearly as much as he wanted. And it was hard to talk to you on certain cases, to allow you to make him feel lighter when reality was so dark. When he felt so much weight on his shoulders, when he should be focusing on the profile and apprehending the unsub and… sometimes he just didn’t feel like he deserved to have that weight lifted by you, even for a little while. 
“Spence?” 
“Will you go inside?” he asks, his tone full of something like reverence for you. “Please?”
“If you insist,” you sigh, already opening the door. 
“I do. I do insist, very forcefully.” 
“I’m already inside with the door locked.” 
“Man, I’m good.” 
“Mmhm.”
“Going to bed?”
“Yeah. Will you talk to me for a few more minutes?” you ask, sliding under the covers. Spencer hears the slip of fabric as you pull them up over your shoulders, and it sharpens the ache he feels to be home with you already. 
“I’ll talk to you for the rest of the night, if you want me to.” 
“No, I don’t wanna keep you awake, too.” 
“I probably won’t get much sleep regardless.” 
“I don’t condone that,” you say, your frown evident in your voice. 
“Noted,” he replies, though he sounds apologetic. 
Four hours feels an eternity too long to wait. You miss Spencer, and you hate how tired he sounds. You want to fix things for him. You want to run your fingers through his hair til he falls asleep and you want to make sure his dreams are peaceful when he does. 
“What do you wanna do when you’re back?” you ask, hoping that planning for it will make the time go faster. 
“Oh, I’m taking a shower and getting right into bed. And you can’t make me get up.” 
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“I’m serious. Don’t ask me to do a single other thing cause I won’t do it.” 
You laugh. “For the whole day?” 
“Probably. And you better not go anywhere either. We could both use the rest.” 
“Okay, rest day all day.” 
“We can order Thai though. So we’ll get up for that. But even then, it’s just to sit on the couch.” 
“Maybe the floor.” 
“I will also accept floor,” he concedes, and then it occurs to him that you might’ve been asking because you want to do something with him. “Is there something you wanted to do the next day though?” 
“Well... the saucer magnolias are blooming at the Smithsonian again.” 
“Say no more.” 
You sigh wistfully. “You’re my favorite boyfriend I’ve ever had.” 
“Well, I should hope so,” he says, smiling. “You’re my favorite, too.” 
“Aren’t I the only partner you’ve ever had?” 
“Ha ha. I had a girlfriend in college.” 
“Spencer, you were like sixteen in college.”
“I wasn’t sixteen the entire time,” you hear the eye roll in his voice, “I have three PhD’s, it took me a little while.” 
“Well, who is this girl? Do I need to beat her up?” you joke. 
“No,” he laughs. “You are my favorite, after all. She wasn’t very nice to me.” 
“Okay… so you told me not to beat her up but then gave a reason why I should?” 
“Please don’t beat up my ex-girlfriend. I do appreciate your violent impulses though.” 
“Mm, okay. As long as you know I could.” 
“Sure, angel. You’re very scary,” he placates. 
You let out a little gremlin laugh. 
“Oh, and you’re delirious,” he notes, an amused lilt to his tone. 
“Delirious because I miss you,” you sing, dragging out the ‘you’. 
“God, where did I even find a weirdo like you,” Spencer laughs. 
“I found you. You attracted me with your peculiar aura and soulful eyes. Trapped me in your… fucking what’s-it-called. Tractor beam.” 
“You know, the term tractor beam was actually coined by science fiction author E.E. Smith in 1931 as an updated version of his original term ‘attractor beam.’” 
“Hmm, yup. You caught me in that.” 
“Did you call my eyes soulful?” he asks, seemingly just processing that part. 
“Oh, you don’t like my adjective choice? Next you’ll have a problem with me calling your aura peculiar.” 
“I mean… I don’t know that I loved it.” 
“Here he goes fishing for compliments,” you sigh, rolling over to your other side and creating a bunch of shuffling noise on the line. Spencer wrinkles his nose, holding the phone a little farther from his ear until he hears you speaking again. “Okay, your eyes are big and brown and beautiful and they contain a standard unremarkable amount of soul, and your aura is also really regular. Regular Reid, that’s what they call ya.” 
He’s frowning, you can practically see it, but he’s also fighting off an amused smile. “Well, that one started off nice, at least.” 
“God! You’re so difficult. My boyfriend is sooo difficult. Why don’t you come home to me first and then I’ll come up with some more adequate compliments?” 
“I’m going to hold you to that.” 
The two of you talk for a little while longer, with you telling Spencer about the new coffee shop you’d tried out and how their lavender latte actually tastes like lavender, which is basically unheard of. Spencer tells you about the standoff between him and an all too curious roadrunner that he swears was trying to get into his motel room. Calling it a standoff is generous; the man got bullied by a bird. 
You try not to laugh and end up unsuccessful, with Spencer insisting that you were taking sides and he was well and truly in danger, which only makes it funnier. His voice pitches up even as he tries to keep his volume low, and you argue that his energy is just so attractive that even the local wildlife are drawn to him. 
“Don’t start,” he warns, overwhelming fondness in his voice. 
You make Spencer tell you something boring to calm yourself down from the image you’ve conjured of him being chased by a roadrunner, which, in your exhausted state, is even funnier than it should be. He claims to regret confiding in you with this, but he knows he’d do it again just to hear you laugh. 
Instead of telling you something boring, he recites some of the poems he’s memorized over the years. It works the way you’d intended, and you regret it when you have to stop him to tell him you’re falling asleep. He’s just a little smug about it. 
“So, you’ll be home in four hours?” you ask, the start of your goodbyes. 
“More like three now.”
“We made time go faster.” 
“We did.” 
“Will you try to get some sleep?”
“Fine. Only because you asked.”
You hum, victorious. “Goodnight. I love you.” 
“And I love you.” 
Hours later, just as the sun is beginning to change the hue of the sky from deep navy to a hazy cerulean glow, you feel your mattress shift underneath you. You’re barely awake, but still you register the scent of Spencer’s shower gel, fresh and sort of woodsy. 
Half asleep, you shift to accommodate him, and he slips an arm around you as you lay your head on his chest. You wrap an arm around his torso and throw your leg over his hips, as close as you can possibly get without literally being on top of him. 
You sigh, deep and relieved, and Spencer’s heart stutters. 
“I missed this,” he chuckles, resting his cheek against the top of your head and wrapping his arms tighter around you. You just hum in response, the last of your energy before you’re pulled back under. Within minutes, Spencer is asleep too, and the two of you sleep through sunrise and into the afternoon. 
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chicchanooliner · 1 year
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Brain refuses to think about anything lately besides Ichiro
Im starting to regret leaving my laptop back home
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