#this is just what my brain rambled out in the shower this morning

[ecosystem-administrator]

FFXIV culture and geography questions!

Trying my hand at one of these lists! Reblog if you want people to send you a number, or just answer them all for character development reasons. I'm not the boss of you.

Is your WoL/OC of a species considered native to the area where they grew up? Are they an immigrant? A refugee? A member of an established diaspora? Did they grow up moving around?

Most of us are travelers, but does your WoL/OC currently have a particular place they consider 'home'? Is it the same as where they grew up? If not, what makes it home for them?

How does your WoL/OC relate to the culture of their species as established in lore? Do they consider themselves a typical example of their kind? Are they in touch with their heritage? How does this affect their interactions with others of their own kind?

Is the city associated with your WoL/OC's starting class the place where their journey actually began? Did they actually come to it from outside as shown in the game, or were they born there? Do they feel welcomed or alienated by the city and its culture?

Which, if any, of the major cities or cultures does your WoL/OC consider to be their childhood point-of-origin? Why did they leave? Do they go back and visit? How do they feel about coming from this place?

Has your WoL/OC ever canonically fantasia'd to another species? Have they considered doing so? If so, what made them choose that species? How does that affect their relationships with those who were born as the species they changed into?

#ffxiv #wol questions #please ask me these too! #and feel free to suggest other things to ask #this is just what my brain rambled out in the shower this morning

[queers-gambit]

Love What You've Done with the Place

song by Rascal Flatts

prompt: he's never been a man built for relationships, until you come into his life. now, the house feels like a home.

pairing: Tangerine x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Bullet Train

word count: 1.8k+

warnings: more brain rot rambles, probably cursing, NOT edited, very docile, fluff, romance, hardened men being simps.

It started with clothes. Just a few, here and there; left behind, forgotten, purposefully stuffed in his dresser for when you stayed the nights. He didn't mind, in fact, Tangerine encouraged you to bring whatever you felt comfortable with leaving since he hated how early you'd leave in the mornings to get ready for work. He found his mornings were peaceful when you were around; neither rushed, both content, starting your days on high notes with each other.

So, he made the decision and found an old sitting-vanity for you. He put it in his bedroom simply because he was fascinated with the hair and make-up process; thinking it was incredible that women had such skill. When he came home about 3 months ago, he noticed your vanity when he first got home from a particularly difficult mission. Your chair was draped in an old university tee shirt, and he smiled.

It was like watching your comfort grow and it warmed something deep in Tangerine's heart. Your make-up wasn't always in a neat array, sometimes just left from a quick touch-up; making the house feel more like a home.

Tangerine also bought a strainer for the shower's drain to catch your hair. He didn't get angry like previous boyfriends did when he found strands of your hair left behind - not on purpose or by some gross standard, but it was natural that hair shed in a shower and not every single strand could be picked up. So, to make life easier, he just quietly bought the hair trap, placed it, removed whatever empty bottles from the shower, and went about his day. But then he started to notice your hair left other places.

His counters, his sink, the floor, your vanity, his bed sheets and pillows.

Tangerine had his issues with possessiveness in the past, but this wasn't remotely similar. No, Tangerine found himself smiling when he would find your hair in his clothes; thinking it was funny, almost like a mark or badge of honor to designate him as yours. It was a brief thought, but Tangerine actually felt giddy by the idea of people just knowing he was off the market 'cause his lady's hair was clung to his suit jackets.

He liked it. He really did. He'd not admit it aloud, but he liked it.

Tangerine wasn't the most humble man in the world, but he certainly liked to flash what was his. Golden jewelry, expensive, tailored suits, shining Italian leather shoes. And now, you, the woman who invaded his heart and head - and now his home. He adored showing you off, feeling affirmed and invigorated by the longing glances men threw your way, and while he expected jealousy from other women, they seemed more impressed by your beauty and grace as well.

He remembers one night, after a several weeks long mission, he just wanted to hold you. His throat was a little choked up when he called you, knowing you were at home after reading an earlier text. So, you rushed over in the middle of the night and he'd yet to let you go home - three days later.

"You've gonna have to let me out of bed sometime," you smiled playfully. "I have work tomorrow - and no, I'm not calling out again."

"C'mon, love, don't leave me alone," he whispered, looking like a beaten down puppy. The mission was much harder than he'd let on, but Lemon usually always filled you in. He thought it was important for you to know certain details that Tangerine was sure to omit, knowing those were the details that haunted him.

"I'll be back after my shift," you promised, nuzzling his nose with your own. "I also need new panties and clean clothes."

He sighed, "Some in there," he pointed to his closet now.

"What?" You giggled.

"You've left enough behind, got a bit of a collection goin', yeah?" He smiled softly, wrapping you back up in his arms. With a sigh, he relented, "I'll let yah go to work, love, just... Need this a bit longer."

You obliged, but the next day, you were gone before he woke up. With a frown, Tangerine dropped back onto the bed - but inhaled deeply when his nose buried into your pillow. He hummed in pleasure, feeling himself brim with contentment, bringing the fluffy item to his chest and nuzzling it; your perfume left behind to soothe him.

Was Tangerine clingy? Oh, for sure! He didn't think so, but you knew better. The contract killer liked you close, liked his hands on you; even if it was just a hand on your waist or a nose near your neck. He missed you when gone, but he usually held himself back from texting you all day - wanting you to be able to focus on your job.

But that day? He was inept, just wanting you; wondering if he paid you the same salary, if you'd consider just staying home. So, he texted you several times.

This obviously threw you off a little, knowing him better than himself most days. But he just missed you, so, you sent a selfie - promising you missed him too and would be home right after work.

He saved the photo and tried not to dwell on how you said you'd "be home" and not "come to his place". He had to take a few moments to calm down, feeling his heart zing with unfamiliarity - but not being afraid of it like he had been when you first started dating. He could recognize he was happy, that he was excited to see you everyday, and that the idea of coming home to you was far too appealing to ignore any longer.

It seemed neither of you needed to actually have an official conversation about living together. Lemon didn't mind, in fact, he was the one who insisted you have your own key; adoring you and whatever affect you had on his emotionally constipated brother. So, some mornings, Tangerine wasn't surprised to find a slightly damp towel left hanging in the bathroom, nor by the make-up on his counter - you using that mirror because of the fluorescent lighting. He never put it back, he didn't move it - he liked seeing it. It meant you were still here, and the idea of it being gone made his stomach knot with anxiety. He also wasn't surprised when he went to use the shampoo you insisted would help his curls flourish (you were right), only to find it damn-near empty. His shower gel, too.

When you came home that evening, you had Target bags in hand; replacing whatever was empty, making Tangerine grin to himself by how in-sync he felt with you. He'd never had a connection such as this, only ever feeling close enough to Lemon, but you changed everything for them both.

How Tangerine ended up with someone courteous was truly beyond either of them. Someone kind, caring, adventurous, sweeter than pie - someone definitely out of Tangerine's league, something he never let himself forget. He adored you to your core - thinking someone such as you should never have gotten tangled up in someone like him, but he knew, if the time ever came, he'd never be able to let you go. In fact, most days, he had to convince himself not to just pick you up and carry you around while he did chores or ran errands.

The very idea of losing you sent his heart into his stomach; hallowing his chest in a harrowing fashion that made it hard to breathe. Just a week or two ago, Lemon found Tangerine in the kitchen, hand to his chest as if he couldn't catch his breath, heaving for air; his worry spiking, but quickly realizing what was wrong.

"Bruv, you've gotta breathe - calm down," he tried to coax. "You're having a panic attack, you've gotta just focus on breathing."

"Fuck off with that!"

"Seriously, man," Lemon insisted, catching Tangerine in a vulnerable state enough that he actually listened without much of a fight. When Tan seemed a little more under control of his own emotions, Lemon asked, "What the hell happened?"

Tangerine shook his head, "Nothing t'worry 'bout - "

"Bullshit," Lemon snapped. "I've never seen yah like that, mate, the fuck happened?"

It was embarrassing, but Tangerine managed to answer, "Just... Just started thinking that if she ever left me, I'd fucking crumble, mate."

This made Lemon frown, "She's not gonna leave you, man. You know that. The girl's madly in love with you, yeah? Like madly in love - like to a degree it makes her stupid in the head, all right? Obviously, you too," he chuckled, shaking his head as he affectionately ran a hand over the back of Tan's head. "You're workin' yourself up, 's all right. You don't have to think about that - ever - 'cause she's it for you, mate. Yeah? Hear me? She ain't goin' nowhere, not without you."

Tangerine needed the assurance. Being alone after having a taste of your love felt impossible to Tan now, something he was never bothered by before. Seriously, why give a fuck about a relationship when he had his brother? Someone who loved him unconditionally and wouldn't leave? And then he met you and understood why people gave fucks about relationships.

It was as if every room you ever entered was brightened up simply by your smile. Your laugh wasn't always the most ladylike, but it was genuine and true and always made Tangerine smile to himself. During any public outing, Tan was always close - we've established this - but he liked to play a small game. One of your love languages was physical touch, so, you liked kissing him if even just for a single second. He was aware of your lipstick, feeling the tacky substance stain his cheek, but he wouldn't wipe it off. His game was to see how long it'd take before someone would point it out; his reputation didn't always warrant others to feel secure enough to speak up. Some nights, Lemon would motion to his cheek, and other nights, you'd return home, remove your make-up, and swipe make-up remover over his cheek to clear the color away.

However, it wasn't often you ventured in public due to Tangerine's innate introverted nature. You went if The Agency made it mandatory or if you were feeling stir crazy, but majority nights, Lemon would find you both lounged on the couch in various positions.

Sometimes, you'd be watching a movie together or binging a show. Other times, you were reading a book while Tangerine poured over paperwork. And once or twice, Lemon's come home to find you belly laughing and playfully scolding Tangerine as he tried to paint your toe nails. It was a homey sight to Lemon: seeing his brother so in love and at ease, hearing your laughter, the entire flat filled with warm smells of burning candles and homemade meals.

It wasn't evident at first, but with you laying in Tangerine's arms, clothes left on the floor, bellies full of whatever meal you had prepared that evening, favorite show playing on the bedroom TV, he realized that he loved what you had done with the place.

requesting rules and masterlist

Bullet Train masterlist

#tangerine #tangerine bullet train #bullet train tangerine #tangerine imagine #tangerine oneshot #tangerine x you #tangerine x reader #tangerine x fem!reader #tangerine x f!reader #tangerine x female!reader #bullet train #bullet train movie #bullet train 2022 #tangerine atj #atj tangerine #atj #atj character

[lightsoutletsgo]

anxiety gremlin — op.81

pairing: oscar piastri x anxious!reader

word count: 3.5k

warnings: mentions of anxiety and generalised anxiety disorder, description of physical symptoms including; nausea, headaches, sweaty hands, stomach pains, brain fog, mental struggles, mentions of panic attacks but reader doesn’t experience one, mentions of food and making food related decisions. PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!  hello loves! this one is very personal to me and it was a pretty selfish write tbh... I wasn't sure if I should post it but I decided to do it in the hopes that it brings people some comfort. Oscar's dialogue at the end is a message that I, as the author, want to remind you all. you've got this, even if it doesn't feel like it! happy reading love mimi

Sometimes, it felt as though the world was out to get you. You faced the world and your flight, fight or freeze instincts kicked in. When you woke up, it seemed like it was going to be one of those days. That unexplainable feeling of nausea turning your stomach and an unexplainable headache pulled at the back of your head. Your jaw tensed as the nausea hit you in another wave and you forced yourself to roll over and close your eyes. Maybe if you could get back to sleep you’d wake up feeling better. Your mind however, had other ideas. Instead, deciding to send you down the spiral of impending doom - a lovely gift first thing in the morning. Thoughts whizzed through your head; Why did you feel so nauseous? Why did your head hurt? Had you forgotten something? What were your plans for the day and was that why this horrible feeling was creeping up? You sat up, accepting that you wouldn’t be falling back asleep and decided to get ready for the day. Perhaps a shower would help? The warm water was soothing as it rushed over you and whether it was the heat or the steam or the fact you were doing something to distract yourself, for a moment you felt a little better. Exiting the shower you decided that while the nausea had subsided, it would be a good time to start hydrating and maybe think about eating something. Your phone rang and dragged you from your internal rambling, “Hi baby!” You smiled, despite the fact that your boyfriend couldn’t see you, “Good morning angel,” You could hear Oscar’s dopey lovesick grin through the phone, “how did you sleep?” You set him down on loudspeaker as you got dressed, “I slept okay! How about you?” “I would have slept better if you didn’t keep stealing the blankets…” You gasped, “I do not!” Oscar laughed, “You absolutely do! One night I’m going to record you for evidence.” You giggled, “You do that baby.” Oscar nodded then realised you couldn’t see him, “I’m just calling to find out what you want for breakfast? I figured I’d stop off at that little cafe that you like on my way home.” You gulped, you had no clue what you wanted or how to decide, “I’d love that, thank you handsome!” You thought frantically for a solution, “Uhh you can choose for me! I trust you!” There was a pause on the other end of the line, “Are you sure angel?” “Yup, mhm, so sure!” “O-okay…” After making Oscar promise to drive safely, you hung up. 

You realised that for a moment while talking to Oscar, you hadn’t even thought about feeling anxious but it was as if that realisation had summoned the feeling back. All of a sudden your hands felt shaky and it was hard to focus on anything but the disconcerting feeling in your chest. Sitting down on the couch you did your best to control your breathing. Sometimes you wished that it would just turn into a panic attack and be done with. Anything would be better than this on-off-on-off situation. It was like feeling a sneeze that wouldn’t leave your body. Unsatisfying and unsettling. 

The front door opening made you snap your head up and you realised that subconsciously you had been rubbing your hands on your sweatpants to try and get rid of the clammy feeling. You shook your head and smiled as Oscar walked through the door, you were just a little bit anxious, it was no big deal. 

Oscar beamed at you as he entered the living room. He noticed that you seemed distracted and almost a little shifty. Your eyes kept darting around the room and your hands were absentmindedly picking at a loose thread on the hem of your t-shirt - a habit you usually despised because it had the potential to ruin your clothes. He said nothing, just walked through the room to the kitchen and placed down the paper bags filled with breakfast. “You okay there angel?” You nodded at him but it wasn’t enough to reassure him, “Are you sure?” You nodded once more, why now of all times were you feeling sick again? You sat there grinding your teeth together and clenched your jaw, feeling too sick to open your mouth and reply. You wanted to reply, you really did! But your brain had decided that words were a step too far. “Did you do something while I was out, hmm?” Oscar joked but all it did was make you more anxious, ‘was he angry?’, ‘was he going to shout at you?’, ‘breakup with you?’, “Come on troublemaker, you can tell me!-” “Nothing! Nothing happened! Now will you please stop asking.” You snapped, immediately clapping a hand across your mouth in shock before the tears were welling up in your eyes. “Oscar I’m so sorry… I’m so sorry baby I shouldn’t have snapped… Please don’t be angry!” You rambled a million miles an hour as your hands began rubbing and grabbing the material of your sweatpants again, not even realising your breathing had turned heavy and you were sweating. Oscar stood there in shock, he had never seen you like this before, was this because of him? He slowly approached you, not sure of the issue and not sure how to resolve it. “It’s okay angel, it’s okay” He held his hand out to you but you shook your head, talking through a clenched jaw in the hopes it would help the queasy feeling in your stomach, “Hands sweaty.” Oscar nodded, “Okay then, can I sit next to you?” You nodded, he gently took a seat next to you, careful not to jostle or jolt you, “Is this a medical emergency?” You shook your head, “do I need to call an ambulance?” You shook your head once more, feeling like you wanted to cry.

How embarrassing that you were having an episode like this in front of your boyfriend after hiding it so well for so long. And even more embarrassing that you couldn’t tell him what was going on let alone why you felt the way you did, “Is this a panic attack?” You shook your head no. Oscar made a little ‘oh’ and sat quietly next to you, unsure of what to say or do. You took a deep breath and forced yourself to open your mouth, despite how heavy your tongue felt. “I’m just a bit anxious.” “What about?” You shrugged, “Nothing. Everything. Hard to explain.” Oscar smiled at you through your one word answers and short sentences, “Well I can wait, it’s okay.” You nodded, hands starting to tingle with how long you’d been rubbing them against fabric and you winced as a sudden cramping feeling started in your stomach. Oscar seemed to notice your discomfort, “Please let me hold your hand angel, I promise I don’t care if it’s sweaty and you think it’s gross, I just want to help okay?” You nodded, breathing deeply and letting him take your hand in his. 

As soon as your hand was in his, his thumb was rubbing gentle circles over the back of your hand. A soothing motion that you let your eyes focus on. Watching his hands and how they moved, anything to keep your attention off of the anxious feeling. 

As he sat next to you Oscar wondered how he should approach you to talk about this. Clearly there was something you weren’t telling him. He thought he knew what it was and he understood why you hadn’t told him. He knew that people got anxious, hell he was always anxious before a race, but he also knew that for some people it went beyond unsettling feelings. He guessed that that’s what you were dealing with too. He’d seen Logan feeling like this a few times and so he wracked his brain to try and remember what the American had told him was useful. How about distraction? It was worth a shot! “Want to watch a film?” You nodded, eyes still laser focused on Oscar’s hands. “I knew you had a thing for my hands but you are allowed to blink you know.” He joked, cracking the smallest sound of an exhale of laughter from you, that was a start. “What film should we watch, hmm?” He grabbed the remote to start flicking through options, his hand never leaving yours, but aware that there was enough space between you so you didn’t feel smothered. “I think something cute and funny? Yes that’s a goooood plan Oscar.” You gave a weak smile once more as he talked to himself and he smiled at you, “how about Tangled?” You nodded and he selected the film, settling back into the couch, head looking at you once more, “Do you want to cuddle?” You shook your head and he just shrugged, wanting to keep you as comfortable as possible,  “That’s okay, you just let me know when you do, okay?” You nodded and he squeezed your hand to comfort you, “Do you want to sit back on the couch?” Your body was still tightly wound and feeling like a live wire so you shook your head, physically unable to relax. And still all Oscar did was smile at you.

As the film started, you did your best to focus on it, finding yourself unable to stop smiling and releasing some of the tension in your shoulders at various points when your boyfriend spoke the lines along with the characters, with facial expressions. You watched on screen as Rapunzel and Flynn entered the Ugly Duckling Pub and you realised your body finally felt relaxed enough to sit back against the couch. Oscar silently breathed a sigh of relief, all he wanted to do was fix it for you but he knew that he could only do so much. 

By the time the next song had finished, your body was subconsciously leaning against him. Your head rested on his shoulder and he gently tilted his head to rest on top of yours. You gave a little contented sigh. As you sat there, a wave of tiredness hit you, the physical symptoms and mental strain you’d been feeling since you woke up taking its toll. With Oscar’s warm body next to you and the comforting sounds of one of your favourite movies on screen, it wasn’t long before you felt your eyes beginning to slowly close. Oscar looked down at you and saw that your lashes had fluttered shut. He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head and let his own eyes slip shut. 

When you woke up a couple of hours later, the TV was off and you were laying on the couch with a soft blanket covering you. You sat up and sleepily rubbed your eyes, “Osc?” You heard low music drifting through the door to the kitchen and you could hear Oscar mumbling to himself and humming along, cursing occasionally when pots and pans clanged together. He poked his head out from the kitchen door, “There’s my pretty girl. Good morning angel.” He cooed at you and the way you blinked back at him sleepily. “What time is it?” “It’s lunchtime! I was just reheating breakfast.” You nodded, sitting up and pulling your knees up to your chest as he padded across the room to take a seat at the end of the couch by your feet, “I’m sorry.” Oscar’s eyes searched your face as you looked down at your hands in your lap. Oscar’s hand rested on your knee, “Angel, you never have to apologise for something like that…” He trailed off, hesitant to ask you his next question, “do you want to talk about it?” You inhaled slowly, nodding, “Yeah I think I would.” He gently nudged you with his elbow and you shifted back to let him sit in front of you, both of you sitting cross legged. He held his hands out to you and you took them with a shaky exhale.  

“Umm… I’m not exactly sure how to explain it?” You admitted, your fingers playing with his own in an effort to keep yourself grounded as that familiar feeling of your shoulders tightening and nausea creeping up began to settle in. He followed your gaze, “That’s okay, we have all the time in the world. Explain it however you feel is easiest.” You nodded once more, “So obviously you noticed that I was feeling anxious,” He tilted his head to one side to show you he was listening as you continued, “That’s because I have generalised anxiety disorder. And the thing is… I feel like that most of the time.” You admitted shakily, desperately willing yourself not to cry. If Oscar was surprised or taken aback he didn’t show it, instead just linking your hand with his and squeezing, encouraged you continued, 

“There are good days and there are bad days but I’m always anxious… There’s this constant feeling of underlying panic or anxiety or this sense of impending doom.” You looked up and noticed how Oscar’s eyes searched yours, willing you to understand that he wasn’t going anywhere, “I feel nauseous, I feel shaky, my hands get clammy, sometimes it’s like I forget how to breathe, my head and stomach hurt for no reason, my head goes fuzzy and it’s hard to focus on anything but the feeling of how anxious I am…” “Baby…” Oscar breathed, you gave him a watery smile, tears filling your lash line, 

“It makes me irritable, it makes me bitchy, it makes me snap at people I love, it makes me sensitive and emotional, I cry a lot, I cancel plans at the last second, I keep to myself and I build my walls up…” You trailed off, meeting his gaze and noticing that his eyes were filling with tears too, “Sometimes it feels like I’m two people. Me and my anxiety.” You couldn’t help the way the tears fell with a choked sob, “Angel, can I please please give you a hug?” Oscar pleaded, itching to pull you into his arms and comfort you. 

You nodded through your sobs, finally feeling the huge emotional release that had been building since you’d woken up. He reached for you, gently grabbing your arms and pulling you forward onto him. Falling back against the arm of the couch with you against his chest as you both stretched your legs out. He held you for what felt like forever, tightly wrapping his arms around you and stroking your hair, gently murmuring to you and kissing your forehead. When your sobs had subsided a little, he wiped your cheeks, “My sweet girl…” He gently pressed kisses across your face, relishing in the way your crying eased and you let out a little sigh after each one, “Thank you so much for telling me angel.” He paused, “Can I ask why you didn’t tell me before?” He asked gently. You sighed, fisting his t-shirt in your hand as you fought the nervous feeling that made your stomach flip. His hand rubbed up and down your back in a soothing motion as he felt you tense up in his arms, “I’m not mad at you baby, I just want to know what I can do differently in the future. I’d hate it if you didn’t feel safe enough to come to me for help.” You nodded, nuzzling into his chest, attempting to block out the world and focus on Oscar. Just Oscar. 

“Everyone I’ve told has left…” You mumbled sadly, “Hmmm?” His voice was soft, like he didn’t want to scare you out of answering, “I told a few people growing up, uni friends and stuff, and they would always answer with the usual ‘oh yeah I feel anxious too’... Until I explained I had diagnosed anxiety disorder and then,” you sighed, “then they would tell me it was too much for them to deal with, or they would get mad at me for ruining plans, or tell me to just get over it when I tried to talk to them about it.” Oscar’s hold on you tightened a little as he felt a spark of anger burn inside him. How dare they? Anyone could see that you were trying your best, he gave you his full attention as you continued, “I guess all of those things mean that I have a hard time opening up and trusting people with the knowledge of my diagnosis because it’s always backfired… Please don’t be mad at me… I do trust you, I just…” “Hey,” Oscar’s voice was low to ensure he didn’t trigger you, “I’m not mad or disappointed at you baby, I’m frustrated with myself for not noticing sooner.” “I’m pretty good at hiding it,” you admitted, the two of you led there in silence for a moment before Oscar spoke again, “Well I’m beyond proud of you. For dealing with it everyday and for opening up to me.” You tilted your head up to look at him and pressed a soft kiss to his jawline, “Thank you for listening.” He smiled back down at you, “Of course.” 

You summoned up the courage to ask him the question that had been on your mind for a little while, “H-how did you know how to help?” Oscar breathed deeply for a second, “There’s someone on the grid who uhhh, struggles with the same thing. They’ve opened up to me and explained what helps them so I figured I’d try?” You pushed yourself up to look at him in surprise, “Someone on the grid?” Oscar nodded, “I won’t say who, because it’s their thing to disclose and explain,” You nodded, “Of course!” “But they’re doing their best to work on things and ask for help and they’ve been doing really well.” Oscar made a mental note to ask Logan if he would consider talking to you. “Well, Tangled was a great choice!” You giggled as Oscar nuzzled his nose into your neck, “Yeah? I wanted to pick something that wouldn’t make you feel worse.” You couldn’t help the way you threw your arms around him and cuddled into him, so thankful for him and the thought and care he gave to you. “I love you.” It was muffled against his chest but he knew what you wanted to say and so with a chuckle he kissed the top of your head, “I love you too, angel.”

You stayed there for a moment before he was gently pushing you to sit up so he could look into your eyes, “I want to say something.” He hesitated and you nodded at him to continue. He gently held your chin with one hand, keeping you looking at him as his other hand found yours in your lap, linking his fingers with yours and squeezing, despite the way your hands were starting to get a little clammy again, “You may have anxiety disorder but it’s not who you are, baby.” Your eyes widened, he continued, “You are not your diagnosis. There is so much more to you than that. You are kind and caring, you’re smart, you’re beautiful, you’re creative.” Your heart melted at how passionately he was speaking. “You’re loved and valued by me and so many others, angel… I love you, the anxiety gremlin that comes with you and all.” You giggled at how he referred to it, “Anxiety gremlin… I like it!” He smiled, kissing your nose, you scrunched it up and he kept talking, “I know I can’t fix it and make it go away, believe me baby I wish that I could. But I promise that I’ll be here through all the bad days and the good days. I’ll do everything I can to make it easier and more bearable for you.”

You couldn’t help the way you started crying again, happy tears this time, Oscar’s thumb gently wiping them away, “So when you’re feeling up to it, we’re gonna sit down and talk about how I can help. What I can do when you’re having a bad day, the things we can do together, how you like to be distracted, how I can help when we’re out in public, maybe a codeword?-” You giggled as he started speaking faster and faster, you stopped his rambling with a soft kiss, pressing your lips to his, your hand cupping his face, thumb rubbing over his cheek, “That sounds perfect baby, thank you.” Oscar kissed you once more, pulling you into him, “You just let me know when you’re ready.” You nodded, “I will, I promise.” “Good! But for now, we still need to eat our breakfast!”

#mimi.writes #tw anxiety #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fic #f1 angst #f1 fluff #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri fic #oscar piastri angst #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri oneshot #f1 oneshot

[sweatervest-obsessed]

Black Dog

Pairing: Spencer x Reader

WC: 758

TW: Love of Zeppelin, mentions of Satanism <3

A/N: Sorry I've been gone but now IM BACK. She's ALIVEEEEE

Have you ever woken up to Led Zeppelin's Black Dog playing distantly in the shower?

Spencer Reid has. 

It’s his own fault really. He’s the one who invited you back to his place, and he should feel guilty, should feel bad about breaking one of Hotch’s rules, but you were just so fucking pretty, it made his brain malfunction.

He should feel fucked about the situation, and he did, just not in the way he probably should have. 

You had walked out, wrapped in a towel, humming along, having turned the music back down thinking he was still asleep. 

The water droplets dripped down your legs caused him to blush slightly, smiling shyly at how fucking gorgeous you looked, embaressed by the thoughts of the previous night. 

“Morning Spence.” You whispered, dropping your phone on the bed, and moving over his body, placing a kiss on his lips, a dreamy smile across your face. 

“Morning.” He whispered, sighing your name as you kissed his jaw. His hands wrapped around your waist, letting you collapse and place your weight on top of him. 

“I just showered..” You mumbled, continuing to kiss his neck and jaw, examining the damage you caused. 

“And who’s fault is that?” He kissed your head. He took his hand and laced it through one of yours, bringing it to his lips. 

“We have work, handsome.”

“I’m actually not the one on top of someone else.” 

You huffed and rolled off of him, standing up. “Yeah Yeah, whatever. At least you don’t have to show up to work in the same pants as yesterday.” 

Spencer laughed a little bit before getting up with you. 

“I didn’t know you liked Led Zeppelin.”

You whipped your head around, eyes filled to the brim with excitement. “You, Doctor Spencer Reid, know who Led Zeppelin is, and like them?”

He pulled on a pair of khaki trousers you had seen a million times before. “Don’t seem too surprised. Jimmy Page was known popularly as a satanist, even though he wasn’t. He agreed with Crowley’s philosophy of personal liberation, however plenty of Led Zeppelin's songs deal with the supernatural, or more pagan like elements. For example, the cover of Zeppelin IV is commonly believed to be straight out of Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings Trilogy, but in actuality, it’s the symbol of the hermit from Tarot. I–” He stopped himself, and looked up at you, not fully expecting you to still be listening. 

But you were. Looking at him with such patience and adoration, and a genuine interest in whatever he was saying. “What?” You looked at yourself and then back at him. “Why’d you stop?” 

He opened and closed his mouth for a second, furrowing his brows. “Sorry. It’s just, uh, no one ever really lets me ramble, let alone listens…”

You shook your head. “Well that’s idiodic because you have a lot of very interesting things rattling around in your brain. And now I know that the very handsome man I slept with last night, likes one of my favorite bands…or at least has a good breadth of knowledge about them.” You pulled your shirt over your head, tucking it into your pants, starting to look around for your shoes. 

Spencer was still staring at you. 

“Spence do you remem–babe, please. Stop staring and keep talking please.” 

He swallowed and nodded, fumbling with the shirt in his hands. “I-uh-I, don’t remember, um–”

“That's fine.” You called from under the bed, having located where one of your shoes got kicked. “Tell me something else about Zeppelin.”

 “Uh-uh speaking of Satanism.” He pulled his shirt over his head, staring at your ass completely unashamed. “Did-did-did you know that, uh, Televangelist Paul Crouch believed that if you played Stairway to Heaven backwards, it would have satanic messages?”

You slid on one of your shoes, hunting for the other one still. “Oh please Spence, you’re slipping. Everyone knows that. And it’s a bunch of bullshit, kinda. It does sound like some devil words but truly who has the time to plan that out, and then execute it?” 

“T-that’s what the band said!

You smiled at him, kissing his cheek as you walked out into his living room, determined to find this other fucking shoe. 

“What’s your favorite song by them, Spence?” 

“Oh well I don’t actually listen to them…”

“Spencer please. You’re breaking my heart. I’m picking the music in the car, and you’re going to suck it up.” 

Spencer has never been more excited to listen to music at 7 am before.

#x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid angst #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader fluff #criminal minds fandom #dr spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader angst #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x gn!reader #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid

[blackbat05]

Thief

Rick Flag x Reader

Plot: The weather hasn’t done any favors, leaving you out of clothes. Thankfully, you know where you could grab some in case of an emergency.

Genre: PG-13 (Shared clothes trope)

A/N: I’m sorry if this was so brief and not as well written🥲 I realized I haven’t wrote Rick in a while and it proves because this was sitting in my draft for a good 3 weeks? Final semester so many things were going on. Still hope you enjoy it!

Yes, the yellow shirt makes an appearance😩

Sweating buckets, you stumbled into the shared apartment. Making a beeline for the fridge, you grab a bottle of water, gulping down the liquid like it’s your lifeline.

Curse the fickle minded weather. You swore the weather forecast saying something about breezy winds. It didn’t say anything about a blistering hot morning.

You immediately made your way to the showers once you were sure you could properly stand and not collapse midway.

Shortly after, you stepped out of the shower, satisfied with the cooling sensation lingering on your skin. Opening your closet to retrieve fresh clothes, you realize one problem…

You were out of tops.

Of course. With the unpredictable weather, you finally managed to get your clothes out to dry without having to worry about the torrential rain. Your friends around you convinced you to just get a dryer or head to the laundromat but you were dead set on not having to spend more money than you already were. So natural drying it was.

You racked your head for a solution. Sure, you would have been contended lounging around naked but the windows were too close to the building opposite your apartment and you had intention of jeopardizing you modesty with creeps these days.

An idea lights in your head. Of course! Why didn’t you think of that. You opened Rick’s part of the cabinet, pulling out a yellow shirt. Slipping it through your head, you were glad for the new soap powder you had bought just last week for the smell had mixed nicely with Rick’s scent. As his shirt had covered you nicely, you decided to opt for no shorts enjoying the cool air on your legs.

It felt as if like he was hugging you from behind while you went around your daily tasks. Heat long forgotten, you started to hum your favorite tunes, time ticking away.

The door rattles slightly before revealing Rick with a couple of brown bags in each hand. You don’t seem to notice him as you focused on making breakfast for the two of you.

His eyes can’t help but to roam your figure, specifically what you were wearing. Rick recognized that blindingly bright yellow shirt from anywhere. Honestly, it only reminded him of unsavory memories but when you wore it, the distaste for it somehow disappeared.

“Hey baby.” Rick gently calls out so as to not alarm you. You turn around, spatula in one hand and an infectious smile on your face. Now that you were facing him, Rick feels a flutter in his chest seeing how effortlessly elegant you looked despite the casual home wear.

“You’re back!” You made sure the stove was switched off before making a beeline to the counter where Rick was sitting. “Did you get everything on the list?”

Rick nods proudly. “And I figured you could do with some ice cream especially after that run.”

His brain momentarily short circuits as you give a bone crushing hug, feeling your skin exposed by the lack of shorts press against his own.

“You’re the best! What would I do without you.” An arm around Rick’s neck, you rummage the shopping bags with your free hand only to be stopped abruptly by him. You give him a puzzled look. Rick takes a few steady breaths.

“Is that my shirt you’re wearing?”

You glanced down, holding the piece of fabric between your two fingers. “Oh… this?” You carefully scanned his unreadable expression.

“Yeah, I didn’t have any fresh clothes so I kinda grabbed one from you… if you don’t like it I can change! I’m sure one of mine would have dried in this heat by now.”

Before you could ramble any further, Rick nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. “Don’t, I love it.”

He wraps his arms around your waist, bringing you closer to him. “In fact, take this shirt. I want to see you wear it more often.”

Rick’s sudden straightforwardness leaves you blushing. Despite how long you had been together, Rick always made you feel like you were the prettiest woman in the world.

You gently pry yourself away from him, looking at his gaze that was dripping with honey. “Alright then,” you decided to feel a little cheeky today, “I’ll keep it! Don’t say that I’m a thief or something!”

He laughs. “Darlin? That’s exactly what you are. A thief to my clothes and my heart.”

Rick turns away from you, preparing to help you with breakfast. He can’t help but to grin, knowing very well that you were left agape at his smooth delivery.

You barely managed to pull yourself together, mumbling how you were going to fold the clean laundry since he was at the stove. As you leave the kitchen, Rick can’t help but to stare at your thin underwear that was covered by his large shirt.

Yeah, he’ll get more of those darned shirts if he had to.

#rick flag x reader #rick flag #colonel rick flag x reader #colonel rick flag #joel kinnaman #the suicide squad

[murdocks-devil]

reciprocum - m.m.

Summary: According to Newton's third law, every action has an equal and opposite reaction. Matt Murdock is a giver, and does not believe in taking in return. You, however, decide for him anyway.

Warnings: Fluff, no angst

A/N: Uhhh this is not edited or anything. It's 3:23 in the morning and I've been up trying to get this out of my head because it won't let me sleep otherwise.

Taglist: let me know if you want to be added or removed @freshabogados @shedaresthedevil @mattmurdockspainkink @matt-erialgirl @phoebe-danvers @saintmurd0ck @nelson-et-murdock @skvatnavle @mindidjarin @itwasthereaminuteago @1800-fight-me

Matt Murdock is a giver.

It's not any earth shattering revelation to you, to anyone really. Matt Murdock gives and gives and gives till he has nothing else left, then he gives some more. He offers his head to the people he helps through the firm, devotes his hands to every living being in Hell's Kitchen, and reserves his heart for those choice few he loves the truest.

Primarily, of course, you.

The three words uttered over and over again in the very space you both call home cannot even begin to cover it. It's the coffee in the morning, the takeout on the bad days, the planned dates and unplanned surprises. The socks on late sleepy winter nights. The open windows in stuffy summer heat. The flowers because he thinks you deserve them. The ring on your finger despite the voices in his head that tell him he doesn't deserve you. Your favorite spicy food from the deli across the city though just carrying it makes his eyes water. Your songs playing in the loft even though he never really gave Taylor Swift much thought before.

The open arms every time you need to sob. The patient ears that holds all your rambles to the same altar as holy gospels. The pride blazing his smile as you reach your goals. The mischief sparkling in his eyes as he teases you mercilessly before giving in, every single time.

The kisses that whispers love in your skin. Every sweetheart and baby and darling that makes your heart skip a beat. The way he seems to take a deep dive for your pleasure, and doesn't let up till you pull him away. Doesn't stop till you're sated, happy and sore in the best way.

Matt Murdock gives, but never takes.

The need is there, he knows. He can feel it, the buzzing in the back of his mind gets louder and louder and harder to ignore some nights. The fog in his brain that gets a little denser to trudge through some time. The suspended air around him, almost like walking through sludge, viscous and syrupy and dark. He knows he needs something. But he doesn't know what.

Matt Murdock gives and gives, but he doesn't ask. Because how would he? How could he? How do you ask for something you don't even know you need in the first place?

You know that. You know him.

You know he'd never ask for what he needs. He probably doesn't even believe he deserves it, deserves to loved and adored and cherished and missed and kissed and fucking showered in affection. He nods fervently when you murmur these against his lips, against his skin, and for a second, it feels like he may just believe in the good you see in him everyday.

But then the city breaks him down, brings out the Devil you love so utterly. And it's like the sandcastles drowned out by waves, and he doesn't believe all over again.

So now, you just make sure to ask for him.

A kiss on the cheek while he wolfs down his breakfast just so he's not late for the millionth time. A hug from the back when he's working on the couch that lingers. His favorite food, because home cooked meals have been scarce before in his life. Sitting together for dinner so you can hear him talk about the anything and everything. Reading to him so he can focus on your voice and let his mind drift away. Watching the umpteenth YouTube video just so you're doing his bandages and first aids properly. Massages for his sore muscles because not even Matt can deny he needs them, despite his insistence that you don't have to.

Pulling him close and draping yourself all over him, covering both your bodies with the blanket as you lay on the couch, you feel him snuggle close, soaking up everything his touch starved soul can without feeling like he's asking for too much. You kiss him at every single opportunity, feel his cheeks flush and his breath stutter as you map his face under your lips. You shower him with praise and worship and whisper how good he is, how loved he is, and feel the tension bleeding out of his tense shoulders as the ugly voices in his head calms down.

And the ones you claim to need for yourself.

When the city he loves so much breaks him down over and over again, you pull him over yourself, your bodies touching from head to toe, tell him you're cold and he's warm. When you hug him tight and don't let go because 'I just really needed it'. When you pepper kisses over his face cradled in your arms, because 'you look so cute when I do this!'. Hold his hand when you go out even though you know he doesn't need it because 'what if I slip and fall, you know how clumsy I am!' Flowers because 'they match your glasses!'. His songs on the speaker because 'my fiance has grandpa tastes so I'm preparing for my future as a grandparent'.

Truth is, you're a liar. You lie to the love of your life every. Single. Day.

You lie, because Matt Murdock gives, and never asks for anything in return. And the only way to give him what he needs, is to let him give you. Because he may refuse himself every single need, but you. You he never would. And so you take, every single time. Greedy as a miser, pooling your wins together to shower him in every good thing he deserves.

Matt Murdock is a giver, and that's okay.

You'll make sure he gives to himself too.

#matt murdock #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x gn!reader #daredevil born again #daredevil #daredevil x reader #daredevil x you #daredevil fanfiction #daredevil fic #matthew murdock #matthew murdock x you #matthew murdock x reader #jace.fic

[ghost-orca]

Channeling Your Love; Chapter 2

Description: You're a music radio show host in Jackson, Joel meets you, what more can I say?

Warnings: PTSD, Trauma, Future Smut: Just pure fluff for now

You can’t leave

Your breath is hitching, you want to scream

No one’s gonna understand if I let you go

Panic, sweat, tears, all of it taking over you

You’re just gonna have to wait here with me, until you really understand girlie

 You wake up abruptly, sweating and breath heavy. “Goddammit” you whisper to yourself, raising the back of your hand to your sweaty forehead. Looking at the clock on your wooden cart bedside cabinet, you see it’s one minute before your alarm is supposed to go off. You lay back down on the bed, relieved to be where you are. You let the minute pass in bliss, jumping up to your feet in excitement for a new day ahead once the alarm finally goes off. 

You place the needle on your record player and press play to start your morning routine with Make Your Own Kind Of Music by Cass Elliot, starting up the shower. You keep the bathroom door open to enjoy the music.“Singgg your own special song” You sing along as the shower water hits your face, your hips swing side to side along with the song, face beaming with appreciation for a daily shower. You remember being prickly when it came to bathing before the outbreak, getting fussy when your mother insisted you needed to take a shower. Something you learned to never take for granted now. Exiting the shower you dry yourself down with a towel, unable to stop yourself from dancing around your studio along with the music after “Even if nobody else sings alongggg”

 Once you're fully dressed in some bootcut jeans and an old t-shirt, you sit yourself down in your office, writing your cue’s for the day you had planned the previous night, when you wanted to just talk with your audience of Jackson, hoping to build a stronger sense of community through your thoughts, even if it mostly comes off as rambling. Whatever works you tell yourself, at least you're trying. You suddenly hear a knock at your entrance door, surprising you. You walk down stairs to the entrance, opening your door to a young girl with red hair and green eyes. 

“Hey there! I’m guessing your Ellie?” you ask

“Um- yeah! That's me!” She responds, her eyes light up 

“Come on in, I've been so excited to meet you!” You say, holding the door open for her. She agrees to come in with a huge grin on her face.

 Ellie starts showing up at 9am everyday from then on, and you teach her everything there is to know about hosting a radio show for the next three weeks while she keeps her journal on hand, writing down almost everything you have to teach her. She watches you intently as you host, dancing with you whenever you do, asking about different bands and songs she’d find in your various selections. She’d start calling you Radio Queen, or R.Q. for short, and you’d found it endearing. Eventually in time, after playing Heart Cooks Brain by Modest Mouse, which Ellie had suggested to play,  you start speaking into the mic. She’s ready, you think. “Listen up Jackson, I think everyone should know that I've had a lovely young apprentice these last three weeks, her name is Ellie, and if you haven't met her, you should! She’s a really great kid, and if I'm ever out of commission, I think Ellie would be perfect for doing the job in my place.” You look towards Ellie, and she’s beaming with excitement. You give her a wide smile back, feeling a sense of pride. She runs over and gives you a hug once the next song starts and you hug her back. “Thankyouthankyouthankyou!” Ellie says, jumping up and down excitedly. You start to feel emotional in the embrace, holding back tears, “You’re welcome kiddo” is all you can manage.

 An hour passes, and you remember Ellie has to go back home soon, you look at her mouthing  ‘say your goodbyes' after the last song ends, she nods in excitement, running over. “Hey Jackson! It’s Ellie here! I'm sure you heard that I’m gunna rule this station one of these days, and it’s gunna be badass!” She shouts into the mic. You start giggling, waving your hand at her to stop before she’s even begun. A knock at the door is heard. You look to Ellie to encourage her to keep going and go downstairs to answer the door. You're still giggling when you open up the front door, shaking your head. Once you look up you make eye contact with Joel, his hand leaning against the wall with his other hand in his pocket. You didn't know he was thinking about how to pose himself for five minutes before knocking on the door in case you had answered. He gives you a subtle smirk, looking down at you. “Heard Ellie got a promotion.” he piped up, rubbing his fingers together with his hand still leaning his body in the same position. You’re dumbstruck by how he holds himself, straightening your shoulders back to perk yourself up as you clear your throat. “She, um, yeah she deserves it. She’s been working really hard here, and we’ve been having alotta fun.” You respond, shyly making eye contact. His hazel eyes look so pretty. You want to stare into them forever. Joel’s still smirking at you, play it cool, old man he thinks to himself. You both hear Ellie from upstairs “And with that, I bid you all adieu with- Liiizstoo-Listo-whata? I don’t fucking know how to pronounce that but it’s by Phoenix!” Her voice draws out the name as the music starts. 

 You slap your hand against your forehead, cringing in embarrassment “Lisz-to-mania.” you whisper to yourself. Joel chuckles, shaking his head “I’m sorry about that, I’ll be sure to talk to her about it.” You start pumping your fist lightly against your forehead, nodding in agreement. You’re aware that Jackson isn’t a judgemental community, but you try to keep things professional in the most light hearted sense to hold up a certain standard, even in a world that doesn’t care about professionalism anymore. Breathing out a sigh, you let it go as Ellie makes her way downstairs to you and Joel. “Hey kiddo, congrats on your big step up the ladder.” Joel says this as he pulls Ellie into an awkward side hug squeeze, Ellie rolls her eyes. “It’s not that big a deal, man.” Her response makes you pout, you thought it was a big deal honestly. You saw it as Ellie making a big step in continuing what you were trying to rebirth into the world, a small win for humanity in rebuilding. Joel notices your disappointment, nudging Ellie. “Not that I’m not fucking thrilled though!” She responds eagerly looking up at you, Joel nods in agreement, “Yeah and I’m real proud of you kiddo, honest to god I came running straight here to give ya a big hug and tell ya how proud I am when I heard the news from Tommy.” He gives Ellie another tight squeeze. Ellie blows a raspberry in response “Tsk, yeah right old man.” Hiding the blush creeping on her face as she looks away out of embarrassment. 

 You watch the two of them in awe, remembering when your father would come home to you and your mother from work, giving you a big hug and letting you go on and on about your day or whatever “cool” rock you had found. Then your mind flashes back to when he hadn't come home, the TV streaming panic on the news “Everyone needs to stay indoors for safety”, your mother crying over the phone dialing over and over “Pick up, pick up, god please pick up.”

 You interrupt your train of thought, “Well, I should get back to it.” putting a lid on your memories. Joel noticed your mind was somewhere else for a moment, “Uh, sure, d’ya need help with anything before we go?” He’s not even sure why he asked, just felt like he had to when he saw the look on your face. “Nah that’s alright, but thanks anyway.” you say, having fully found your bearings now as you pull your hair back, giving him a nod and smile to show you're alright. He nods, “Alright then, give me a holler if you need anything. Let’s get going Ellie'' he starts making his way back with Ellie, “Thanks Joel. Ellie, I’ll see you at 9 tomorrow?” You ask, “Yep! Seeya!” Ellie waves her hand up in your direction, already walking back a couple steps ahead of Joel leisurely. Joel stops a moment to look bad at you, “Sure you're alright?” he asks out of earshot from Ellie, drawling in a slight whisper with concern in his voice. You look at him as he doesn’t break eye contact, slightly taken aback by his concern for you, but find it endearing. “Yeah, just a bit tired is all.” You manage to answer as you feel your belly start to tighten, cheeks warming up. He smiles and nods again, “Alright then.” pacing his way down to follow Ellie home as you watch his back walk away from you, noticing how defined his shoulders are even in a winter jacket.

 A few hours pass in solitude, two glasses of bourbon in for the night to come to a close for your show. You watch snowfall cover the town as smooth jazz plays, it's so peaceful. You look down at a familiar small box in the cupboard next to your desk. Pulling it out and placing the box on your desk, you lift the boxes covering, staring at a lone silver lighter with the engraving of a topless mermaid, the edges of it smoky and blackened. You take the lighter out of the box, observing it, then switching the lighter on to see if it will still set aflame. It does, and you shudder. Still burning, after all these years you think to yourself. A hidden secret that no one dares to try to uncover. Placing the lighter back into its box and under the cupboard, you sigh, and take a long sip of your drink. 

 As the final note fades out you bring the recorder up to your lips to say goodnight to Jackson with a final song, Weak by SWV “I hope everybody has a somebody that they can dance along to this song with, ‘fore closin’ the curtains'' Your words are a bit slurred from the alcohol in your system. “And with that, I bid y’all a goodnight.” Cutting out you pick yourself up to sway along slowly, snapping along to the beat. Your head spins as you do, “Can’t explain why your loving makes me weak” sung along. A knock at the door makes you jump, and quickly you fix yourself to get ahold of your bearings. Going down to answer the door in frustration you assume it's Maria asking you to take on a patrol job for someone the night before, again. “Maria, I’ve told you before you have to give me atleast a day’s notice to- '' swinging open the door mid sentence, you see it's not Maria, but it is in fact Joel. He looks cold, like he’s been standing there in place for a while, waiting for you - He was, working up the courage to knock on your door- his eyes widened upon seeing you, not expecting that you would really answer. 

 “Sorry-” You start saying at the same time, both surprised at each other's company. “Uh, you go first, sorry.” you're flustered, what is he doing here? You think, but you realize that you're somewhat happy to see him. He looks away from you, rubbing his bearded cheek, embarrassed. What the hell am I doing here? He thinks to himself. “I was uh, I was at the bar and I heard you talking on the radio and thought, you might have wanted some company. It’s my day off tomorrow, so, I don’t gotta get up early.” Your face starts heating up, Is he insinuating what I think he…? It dawns on Joel what he’s just said to you, “I didn't mean it like- I don't- ah christ.” You blink, he is making this so damn awkward you think, you’d almost find it adorable if you yourself didn't feel so embarrassed. I am making this so damn awkward Joel thinks to himself, unable to bear it all. “I should just go, I’m sorry for bothering you so late. G’night.” Before he can make a run for it and huddle in shame in the comfort of his own home you call out his name, “D’you...do you wanna share a drink with me?” You start regretting your words once they come out of your mouth, your legs start to shake. Joel looks at you with surprise, letting the moment go quiet for what feels like ages. “Never mind, sorry, goodnight Joel-” before you could slam the door shut and cringe yourself to sleep, Joel catches his foot between the door and its frame. He holds back a pained groan from the fast impact and sheer strength you put into the doors swing. “Shit! Joel, I am so sorry!” You flail your hands widening the door away from his almost crushed foot. “S’alright” he winces out weakly, he’s trying really hard to act like it doesn't hurt that much, but it really does. “Come on, lemme put some ice on that.” You've fully widened the door to invite him in, and he agrees. 

 You attempt to reach a hand out to him to help him up the stairs, but he just raises his hand up shaking his head, insistent on helping himself up. You book your way to the fridge and open the freezer to grab some ice cubes and make an impromptu ice pack covering a small handful with a cloth hand towel, wrapping it up with the hair tie you were using on your ponytail.

Joel limps his way to your old couch, and sits, feeling the uncomfortable springs in the mattress. Should really get ridda this old thing, or at least replace the mattress, wouldn’t be good for their back, he thinks to himself. You sit yourself down on the couch to give him the icepack you made, telling him to put his foot on your lap, and he hesitantly agrees.

You almost take his shoe off for him but feel it would be overstepping, asking him to take his shoe off for you politely. Once it's removed he places his sock covered foot in between your thighs. You place the towel full of ice cubes against his foot and hold it there for a few seconds. “Be sure to hold this in place for a while.” You tell Joel, he nods, unable to speak or look at you at this point, feeling embarressed. He must be mad at me, you assume. You get up and grab the bottle of bourbon from your office and bring over two glasses from your kitchen cabinet to the coffee table. Pouring each of you a glass, you start by apologizing profusely, “this should help with the pain at least.” you say handing a glass to Joel, and he thanks you, taking a sip…

 You spend the next thirty minutes in silence, slowly sipping your drinks while you sit scrunched up at one end of the couch with Joel’s leg stretched out across it sitting opposite you. You finally decide you should play some music on your record player to fill the dead air. “Is there uh- any music you like Joel?” You ask as you get up to look through your various records that you could play. Joel thinks on this for a moment, and you watch him think with anticipation, excited to learn what makes this man enjoy himself. “Zeppelin. You got that anywhere in your collection?” He finally decides. You start grinning ear to ear, quickly digging through your rock albums stack for your copy of Led Zeppelin III.

Once you place the needle on the vinyl disc, Immigrant Song starts playing. You begin bumping your head along with the drum beat and chords. You turn and see Joel is nodding along as well, mouthing along to the “ah ah ahhh”’s of Robert Plant’s singing, eyes shut while his finger waves along with the melody. You start dancing along casually, staying in place as your arms raise and hips start to sway. In this moment what you share is so precious, two people without a worry in an uncaring and gruesome world. The music starts to fade out and you see him watching you, Joel’s been watching you closely the entire time. Swallowing, like your tongue is stuck in your throat, you turn the music down so as not to disturb any sleeping neighbors and plop down on the couch next to him. He watches you push your hair away from your face as he slowly takes a long sip from his glass, drinking you in. 

 Time passes while you both make small talk about the songs as they play, and you realize Joel has rested his leg on your thighs, must have two songs ago. You’ve both finished your drinks at this point and the stillness in the air makes you notice how fast your heart is beating in your chest. Since I’ve Been Loving You reverberates against the walls, and you share a long glance. Joel doesn’t blink, just looks stares and starts making a sultry grin at you. Your heart stops and you look away, pretending to focus on something, anything to peel your eyes away from him before you give yourself away. A heat is pooling in your cheeks and in between your thighs. Joel starts nodding to himself, with a quiet chuckle unheard by you as the music drowns it out. Mighty shy, that one Joel thinks. You let some time pass before deciding to speak, “Joel?” You ask shyly, still not looking in his direction. “Yes darlin’?” Darlin’? Oh man…You find courage and turn your head swiftly to look at him, “I’m really sorry I hurt your foot”, You whisper as you start rubbing your hand up and down the leg he has laid out on you. This cracks Joel up, and he slowly blinks, You are just the most adorable thing he thinks. “I forgive you.” Joel says finally, a smirk on his lips. You bite your lower lip and nod. Sitting in continued silence for what feels like hours, you both slowly drift off to sleep holding the same positions, comfortable in each other's company.  

#joel miller #Joel Miller x Reader #the last of us #tlou #Troy Baker #pedro pascal

[that-lame-ghoul9000]

Maybe a shower smut with eddie ? 😗

April Showers 🌧

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Its the beginning of track season at Hawkins High. And while your boyfriend is super supportive(from under the bleachers) of your athletic choices, you can't deny practice has taken up way to much of your time. And Eddie intends to make up for lost time.

Word count: 3.3k 😳🥲

TW: SMUT 18+ MINORS GO TOUCH SOME GRASS, DONT INTERACT, established relationship, Shower sex, semi public sex (girls locker room), its a quicky that feels like forever because im a slut for getting carried away rambling. Im sorry. swearing, Unprotected sex it's not stated but reader is on birth control. Just pretend. (don't be silly, wrap your willy. A pregnancy test is one Etch-a-sketch that can't be undid homeskillet) -Oral- (m receiving) Spit. He spits in readers mouth. Pet names(baby or babe i can't remember, princess & sweetheart) probably forgot something. If I did please tell me.

This is so unedited. And written. Late at night.

A/n: 1.) Thank you so much for requesting this. I was so exited exited write it.  With that said:

This is my first published work containing smut. Use lube and go easy on me I'll get better I swear. Give me feedback. Give me all the feedback.

2.)I never ran track. I don't know track season. So I'm sorry if this isn't accurate. I Googled HS track season and it said (training began oct-nov, with actual season being feb-may) and I just REALLY liked the title I picked. So sue me 🤣 and let me live in my fantasy world where after i had a choice I stopped participating in sports. Okay love you byeeee 😘

I do not give permission to have this posted anywhere else. (You'll only find it here and on my AO3 which is the same username) Please don't take my work. Ive worked hard on it and I'd like to continue doing it.

You were a good student. Reliable. Trustworthy. Responsible. Just a few adjectives thrown around by the faculty at Hawkins High. Which is why your guidance counselor and track coach had absolutely no problem giving you a spare key to the school gym and locker room only asking you clean up after yourself and lock up when you're done. Something you've been doing since last school year. You had a tendency to practice in the early hours of the morning. It was cool out. Quiet, with no one there to bother you. No overly horny teenage boys with way to much time on their hands and nothing better to do than yell scandalous risqué remarks at their classmates of the opposite sex simply because their little under developed, sex riddled, cavemen brains couldn't comput farther than: "Girls" "Shorts=ass" and running in a tee shirt was the closest half of them would ever get to seeing boobs bounce. Give them a few years. They may grow out of it.

For that late reason alone you preferred morning runs on the track. Reserving the after school evenings for team practice. Where you'd still try hard. But not hard enough to elicit said comments.

It's almost the end of April and most, if not all, of your time has been spent on this track. You began as soon as the leaves started falling in mid October at the indoor gym at the request of your coach. But it was a drive. Which is what prompted you to ask to use the gym in the mornings last year once it got semi warm enough to begin using the outdoor track.

If you weren't on the track you had your nose shoved in some AP class workbook. Grades were very important to you. Just as important as sports. As they went hand in hand. This unfortunately meant skipping out on plans with your friends. Often.

Which also meant having to "rain check" dates with your boyfriend. Claiming

"Unless you're going to throw 'Study' in front of that 'date' word, we're going to have to give it a rain check."

Now you'd think most guys would love a good 'Study' date. Not your boyfriend. It's as if the word itself was dipped in holy water and burned him simply thinking about it. Which is funny considering who he is. That's right. Little Ms. Straight A's Sporty McSportsPants boyfriend was none other than the infamous Devil worshiping, master of the occult, every parents worst nightmare for their sweet baby, friendly neighborhood bad boy.

Eddie. Mother fucking. Munson.

And although his chocolate button, puppy dog eyes were so close to making you say "fuck it" and toss your books in the air. You had to be the level headed responsible one of you both. Easier said than done. You'd not hadn't had much time together in months. Aside from the half hour at lunch, Mrs. O'Donnell's class (which she conveniently had you both on separate ends of the classroom) the few minutes after practice you got before having to rush home for dinner, and a night filled with homework. Your time together was really few and far between. And while it made you both sad, Eddie would still find cute ways to keep you from getting discouraged. From cute notes of encouragement in your locker on days you'd have track meets. (Especially the ones you were nervous about) Throwing rocks at your window after your parents had gone to bed to get some time in with you till you fell asleep. Even if it was only 10 minutes. And sometimes if you looked real close you'd see him under the bleachers cheering you on. You really couldn't understand why everyone thought the awful things they did about him.

On this particular morning it was cool out. Slightly windy. And very overcast. The gray sky looking like it would give way to rain at a moments notice. You almost opted to not practice this morning. But you had a big meet coming up this Saturday and there was no way you were losing. You pulled your Hawkins High Tigers hoodie off exposing your skin to the cool air. Letting out a shiver you jogged to the track. Looking at your watch

5:30am (this should be illegal)

Setting your alarm for 6:30, giving yourself exactly one hour before you needed to head to the locker room and hit the shower. Kids would start arriving by 7:30. This would give you the perfect amount of time to Shower, dry your hair and drop your clothes in your locker before grabbing a muffin and heading to class.

You begin running your laps and time just runs away with you. Though you're not racing a physical person you feel a sense of competition. You're racing time. And time is racing you.

~~~~♤~~~~~♡~~~~~♤~~~~

You made it 30 minutes in before you heard it. The soft low rumble of the incoming thunder announcing the imminent approaching storm. The wind began to pick up as well. Not that you'd complained it helped keep you cool for the most part.

Deciding not to chance it you run off to the bleachers and grab your bookbag along with your duffle that had your change of clothes, shampoo, towel and all important keys that granted you access to the areas of the school you needed. And with that you jogged to the school building.

As you reach the girls locker room you head into the shower room and turn the water on allowing it enough time to heat up. You exit back to the locker room and begin to remove your shoes and socks. But just as you're getting to your shorts you hear the door open. Causing you to pause.

"Hello? This room is currently being used."

Nothing.

"If there's someone in here you have exactly 3 seconds to make yourself known or I'll borrow Bethany's softball bat. And ive been told I've got a pretty good swing." You yell out.

"I'd love to see you swing a bat. Bet it be hot as hell."

You jump, turning on a heel to face the intruder. He's smirking at you from under that beautiful mess of hair.

"Edward Alan Munson, I can and I will if ever do that again. What are you doing here?" you ask confused. Knowing this man isn't known for getting up early.

"Firstly, just because Wayne let it slip the one night he came home early and saw us making out on the couch, doesn't mean my middle name is available for public use. Even if it's from someone as cute as you. And it is super cute when you use it in your 'I'm so serious tone." he boops your nose.

"Secondly, I knew you'd be here even if a tornado threatened to rip the school down to its foundation because you have your meet against Greenwood on Saturday and, for reasons I'll never understand in the world of sports, you'd rather die than let them win this year."

You rolled your eyes with a smile at his comment. It was a true statement.

"And thirdly, I'll take any time I can get with you." He smirks dropping his jacket and vest all in one go. "You just say the word. It's always better to shower with a friend. Conserve water you know. Great for the planet. Wouldn't want you to slip in there." His brain thinking of more excuses. But he's cut off as soon as he sees you slowly walk backward toward the showers pulling your shirt off and winking at him before dropping your shorts, grabbing your shampoo & body wash and walking through the door. And he's so quick to shed the rest of what's in the way almost falling and breaking his neck trying to get his jeans off. With a final tug his shirt falls to the ground and he's running after you like a kid in a candy store to the showers.

You were already under the water, in an attempt to try and at least was your body before all hell broke loose, when you feel his hands slowly snake around your hips a he pulls you closer to him. Until you feel his skin against yours. And his very prominent hard on pressed against your back. A shiver of excitement pulses through you in every direction as he slowly sweeps his hands across your body. Agonizingly slow. You lean your head back against his chest and he let's out a chuckle.

"Someone seems a little stressed." He says into your ear in a breathy voice that has your legs turning to jello. His hands feather light skimming across your breasts. So light you might have missed it if weren't for him adding the slightest of weight to his hand as he circled your nipper.

You felt yourself begin to relax under his touch. A breathy moan as you say his name,

"Eddie."

The verbal action making his cock twitch against your back.

"Yes Princess." He teased.

"Touch me, please."

"I am touching you." He laughed.

What he'd give to take his time with you. He'd have you so relaxed to the point you'd forget your own name. Only remembering his because he'd have you screaming it repeatedly. But he knew you were both on borrowed time so he cut to the chase.

"Okay sweetheart but only because you asked so nicely." He kissed the side of you temple as his hands moved lower and lower. Till he was still semi teasing you by gently rubbing your legs.

"Edd-" you didn't even get his name out before he said

"Let's see just how excited you are for me" and dipping his middle and ring finger to swipe through your slick folds.

Eliciting a moan that could only be described by Eddie as what the heavens must sound like.

"Jesus baby, even you can't play this one off as shower water. You're absolutely soaked." He said softly biting your ear. You're a mess, as he slides his fingers up slowly till he finds your clit and begins running soft figure eights into the little nub. Not enough to do to much but enough to get you more worked up.  If it wasn't for Eddie holding you up right now you'd fall to the floor.

Which gives you an idea. Since you're kinda on a time crunch. You pull his hand away, even though it pained you to do it. Turn around, and grab his face before he can protest bridging the gap you've caused between you two for the most intense kiss to ever exist at 6:48 in the morning. A clashing of teeth and tongue but only for a brief moment.  Because before the boy in front of you could register the series of events unfolding in front of him you drop to your knees looking up at him through wet lashes (which he's now moved to the top of his list of 'hottest images of my girlfriend burned into my brain to date')

Giving a slight devilish smile before running your hands delicately over his things in almost the same slow, agonizing pace he was teasing you with not moments ago.

Throwing his head back you hear him mutter a "fuuuuuck me" to which you replied "oh trust me i plan to" as you grasp his length in your left hand and begin stroking a few times. Making sure to run your thumb over his aching tip that's beading with pre-cum to gather it and as he looks down you stick in your mouth to suck off. A sort of pre-warning. One that he can barely handle. And with a pop you remove your thumb replacing back on his aching cock, pumping once. Twice. Thrice before giving the prominent vein under his cock a lick from base to tip finally taking as much of him in as you possibly could. Thank God for the wall behind him because he throws his head back and becomes one with the wall thrusting his hand into your hair and gathering it to keep it out of your face.

"F-Fuckin hell. You are so damn good at that. God's baby who knew such a good girl could have such a bad mouth."

The moan you release sending sweet vibrations to parts of him he didn't know existed. Its all going to his head. And rather quickly. You begin pumping what you can't fit as you continue bobbing your head up and down at a pace Eddie has deemed 'fucking perfect'.

"God baby if you keep up like this I won't last much longer." He looks down.

You look up at him with doe eyes through lashes coated in tiny water droplets. He's died and gone to heaven. He feels his release nearing and he's quick to remove himself before he does. Lifting you up to your feet.

"As much as I'd love to cum down your throat. Let's I don't know rain check it," He jests, 'because right now I want to fuck you up against," He paused looking at the 3 available walls in this shower wall eliminating the one with the knobs and shower head, "that wall. But first open, since i know you were so looking forward to having my cum run down your throat. Here's a substitute." He quickly takes his middle and ring finger, swiping them up your soaking cunt, returning them to his mouth to quickly suck and savor how you taste on his tongue. He taps your jaw and your quick to open for him. As he spits a mixture of your slick and his spit into your mouth.

"Swollow." He doesn't have to ask twice. And because he can't help himself his mouth is quick to seek out yours in a passionate kiss filled with teeth, tongue and the fact this will be way faster than either of you want it to be. Suddenly he's tapping your thighs signaling you to jump and you do. Your back is met with the cool stall wall as Eddie is quick to line himself up with your center. There's no slowness anymore. You've all but run out of time, students would start arriving soon. And from previous moments with Eddie you both came to the realization, you weren't quiet. And you couldn't be even if you wanted to.

As he slides in you let out a pornagraphic moan and let your head fall back against the wall. Legs wrapping around his waist, one arm half hazardly drapped around his neck the other holding his shoulder. He stretches you out perfectly. And you fit him just as well.

"F-fuckin hell you're so goddamn tight. Just sucking my cock in. God I can feel you tightening around me."

You rock your hips a little to signal he's okay to move. And boy does he move. He slowly begins to piston in and out of you. Breathing heavy as the shower water falls down like the impending rain. It's probably raining right now. He begins kissing down your jaw to your neck getting to your collar bone where he begins sucking and biting, just a small mark. He likes looking at them later.

You're a moaning, swearing mess. Praying no one hears anything and decides to come looking to make sure a student isn't hurt. Which would be very awkward and extremely frustrating as you can feel that coil in you winding up, so close to snapping. And as if on cue Eddie snaps his hips up in such a way he hits that magic button and just like that his name tumbles out of your mouth. The only name you'll remember for the rest of the day.

Eddie.

RIGHT THERE

Eddie!

EDDIEEEEE

FUCK EDDIE DONT STOP

IM GONNA CU-

He continues his pistoning into that spot with everything he has in him. He's chasing his high and yours. His free hand snakes down to rub on your bundle of nerves in such a perfect way that he has you coming undone in seconds. Following behind you moments later. He slows his thrusting down as you ride out your highs. You rest your forehead on his as you both try to slow your eradicate breathing.

After a moment he pulls out of you slowly, trying his best not to make you uncomfortable. Still holding onto you because you currently have the legs and dexterity of a newborn deer. He kisses your nose as he reaches over and puts some shampoo in his hand returning to massage it into your hair.

"God he's perfect." You think to yourself with a small giggle.

"And whats, pray tell does the lady find funny." He smirks.

"You give me an mind altering orgasm. And now you're washing my hair. It's just cute is all."

"I'm making up for lost time. I believe you have at the very least 30 more coming your way in the near future. Not all at once. But I'm sure I can pull a few out of you with each of our upcoming 'Study' dates. I do need to pass Mrs. O'Donnell's class if i want to walk that stage with you. And I fully intend to." He winks. His statement making you're eyes widen and a blush fall across your cheeks.

"As long as we actually study first Edward Ala-" He cuts you off with quick kiss tilting your head back enough allow the water to wash the shampoo away without it getting into your eyes.

"I recall mentioning the ban of using my full name. But I'll excuse it this time as your brain is still probably a bit to fried." He smiles giving your forehead a quick kiss. And then you hear it. Your watch alerting you that it's 7:30. Fuck you'd have no time to dry your hair. Both mentally cursing the beeping noise, Eddie turns off the water.

"I'll go out first. And quickly get dressed. I'll set your clothes in here on the bench." You give him a kiss as he nods at your plan.

You grab your towel and quickly wrap yourself. Walking fast into the locker room. Pulling your clothes out. Sliding on all the articles. As quickly as you could without paying attention.

Trying to use the towel to dry your hair as best you could before running a brush through quickly and tossing it into a ponytail.

You run to gather all of Eddie's clothes and then set them on the bench.

"The towels a bit wet but it's here too. I'll see you in a minute." You smile as you hear the stall unlock.

Grabbing your bag you make sure the coast is clean before waiting outside the girls locker room door. A few moments later Eddie emerges.

"Hey sweetheart, come here often." He winks at you. Making you giggle.

"Occasionally. Do you?"

"I sure as hell might start coming more often." He grabs your backpack from your shoulder slinging it over his are before throwing his free arm around your shoulder.

"What do you say we go find our rowdie band of weirdos. They can't be left alone for too long. Especially not with Henderson.

"Okay let's go find your freshman children." You say, lacing your fingers in the hand draped around your shoulder. "I'd hate to think what weird heated conversation topic Dustin has Mike and Gareth. Kid gets a level over passionate about many things." Causing both of you you break out laughing.

"It's his tone. I swear it's his tone." Eddie breathes out. As you approach the cafeteria you look outside.

Just like you thought it's absolutely pouring out.

"Eddie." You whisper into his ear at a sudden realization before finding everyone at the table.

"Hmm" He looks at you puzzled.

"Eddie. We're both wet. They'll know why I am. But you never this awake this early. This," you look him up and down before finishing, "wet. They're going to know."

As he looks out the window.

He looks back at you with a smirk.

"I'd blame it on the rain. But I doubt they'd believe me."

April Showers is an understatement.

#eddie munson owns me #eddie munson #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #they knew exactly what they were doing #nah. team eddie munson can fuck me up any day that ends in y #shower smut with Eddie Munsons #its filth pure filth #izzy's asks #anon ask #anon submission

[multiwreckedmess]

[08:15am]

A hard thought for Felix’s birthday.

Because it’s what he deserves.

okay well it was going to be a hard thought and now it’s a super unedited drabble that kinda got away from me i’m so sorry. still sub 1k words (barely)

MINORS DNI FFS. No real warnings, writing under the cut.

I’ve tried to write this smut as gender neutral as possible but i’m only familiar with what it’s like to have a vagina so i’m sorry it’s biased.

Felix would love cuddlefucking. It’s not about dom/sub whatever he just wants to be close.

He likes the parts of you that squish the most. If it’s your ass, he’s all about your ass. If it’s thighs, it’s your thighs. Chest? He will bury himself in your chest. He likes the squish because it feels like you are absorbing him a little. Like if he presses hard enough you could actually merge.

Sex is just another way of getting closer. Whether he’s inside of you or you are inside of him, it’s about being together. One. 

Lazy birthday morning sex is his favorite. Waking up with his forehead pressed between your shoulder blades, arm slung around your waist. Closing his bleary eyes he pulls himself tighter to you, morning wood pressed snuggly between your ass checks. 

He loves that you sleep in the silk pjs he’d given you after you’d complained about being too warm to cuddle. Not only were they breathable for you but as a bonus they felt amazing for him to touch.

You wiggle your hips, teasing him, testing him.

He groans. It rumbles both of you. You smile.

“Babe...please?” He mumbles, rutting against you in his groggy state. “It’s my birthday.”

Felix doesn’t need the excuse, you’d let him on almost any sleepy slow morning. You place your hand over his and squeeze, humming in agreement. Felix sighs. Somehow it all happens in two separate tempos, both so quickly and deliciously slowly. Felix pushes his boxers down to slip his cock out, barely pushing aside your silk shorts, and with one slow thrust nestles himself inside of you, eased in by the remnants of last nights activities you’d hadn’t bothered to shower away yet.

“You feel so good,” he rambles in his dreamlike state. “I love you so much. Really. You make me so crazy.”

Felix slowly moves his lips from your shoulder up to your cheek, deliberately planting kisses to not miss an inch of skin between. Too tired for his trademark overenthusiastic nips he settles for tucking his face into the nape of your neck. He loves how you love listening to the small moans and groans. He’s a performer after all and nothing is better than a captive audience. The way his breath fans across your skin sends pleasurable shivers down your spine. 

“Need you- closer,” his grasp on you reveals his need, the slow steady rocking of hips only providing enough stimulation to frustrate him. Not quite deep enough to really satiate his desire. 

A careful tango of limbs ensues, placing you below him, pressed chest to chest as he re-enters you with a deep groan of relief. Felix rests his head on your chest. Heart beating against your ribcage in time with his own, he feels whole again. In return you wrap your arms around him fully, hands grasping his back. Smooth skin, taut muscles, and bone create shallow crevices for your fingers to trace and explore like valleys between mountains. The additional pressure on your pelvis feels good to you too, able to grind yourself down against him as he fucks up into you. Your small, normally imperceivable noises reverberate in his ear, goading him on, each drag of his cock inside of you coming quicker than the last until his hips are snapping into you. 

“My-good-my-love-” you brain stutters, unsure of how to praise him, broken sentence punctuated by a moan. “my love. I love you. I love this. I love you in me.” You abuse the word love until your lips are dry and jaw is slack. The space behind your eyes goes blurry as blood rushes south. The spring in your stomach winding and snapping suddenly with a gasp. 

Felix grunts as you coat him with arousal, wall eagerly sucking him in. He loops his shoulder under the crook of your knee and pushes your leg into your armpit, folding you onto yourself, fucking you helplessly. The new angle puts new pressure, new restrictions. It’s harder to breathe as your lungs fold in on themselves. His dick presses more fervently against your upper wall, intensifying sensation of him rearranging your guts. His groans climb in pitch into whines and whimpers as he gets closer to cumming. 

“Fuck. S-so tight. oh FUCK. Close-” he barely manages to blurt out.

“Pleasepleaseplease” a chanted plea that diminishes to a hissed whisper as you pull his head down to press to yours. You cum again, blurring pain and pleasure, clenching around him. It sends him over the edge, pace erratic, snapping into you as he releases inside with a choked back “fuck”

Both of you pant, orgasmic aftershocks still rolling through your overstimulated bodies. Beads of bodily fluids trickle down to the mattress, the fluids trapped between you becoming uncomfortably sticky. Another careful dance to unfold and lower you hips without Felix slipping from you as he softens inside of you. A small ritual. He bumps his nose against your neck, worming his way closer, back into full blissed out cuddle mode. Your fingers run through his hair, scalp sweaty from exertion but you don’t mind. He’s absorbed into the post climax haze where the post sex stench still smells delicious. Neither one of you wants to move, so you don’t.  Felix occasionally leaving a wet kiss at your collar. 

“Happy birthday my love.”

#felix hard thoughts #felix hard hours #felix stray kids smut #skz smut #felix smut #I REALLY TRIED with not describing anatomy and when i had to making it fairly gender neutral but as a cis woman i'm definitely not an expert

[deranged-writer-no27]

Lee x GN Reader "You seem nice enough"

Here I am. Accept this, please

Summary:

You're a lonely drifter living in a motel when a certain someone finds you. You guys begin to bond and become something more!

2nd person POV

You've been on the road for a while, and the loneliness has been taking a toll on you. Currently, you're set up in a cheap motel. Though, you ran out of money a while ago and had to pretend to check out, even though you're still sleeping in the room and hiding from the janitors.

You wake up to the sound of a door opening and see a sliver of light peak through the doorway and into the room. Your stuff is everywhere since there shouldn't be any cleaning today, and there's no time to grab it all and hide like normal. Still, you need to try since you'll be kicked out anyway. You creep out of the bed to grab your bag as the door opens, and are greeted by a stranger that's surprisingly not in any uniform. He stares at you for a second before walking up to you, "What are you doing in my room?" Defeated, you begin to plead. "Please don't kick me out, I have nowhere else to go, please, please just let me stay, I'll sleep on the couch, I'll sleep in the bathtub, I won't even sleep, I just need this-" you ramble in a panic and can't seem to stop as he stands there and watches for a bit before cutting you off. "It's ok, you seem nice enough"

You stand there in shock and, not knowing what else to do, go back to bed now with a strange man in your room. He gets in the bed with you and you hear his breath begin to slow and even out as sleep takes him. You turn to get a better look at his face as he sleeps, tracing his features with your eyes as you drift off yourself.

You wake up yet again to the sound of the shower running. Still groggy, you get up and walk in the bathroom to take your morning piss (psssss). Even after you're done, you determine there's not much else to do but sit there, pantsless, waiting for this stranger to get out of the shower so you can have a turn. You peer at the shower curtain, almost as if you're looking through it at him. Soon, the water slows and turns off. The unknown man sighs and opens the shower curtain only to be met with your wide eyed stare and half-nakedness. He jumps and hurriedly grabs a towel to cover himself, but it's too late. You've seen it all. In watching him do this, your tired brain wakes up and realizes you're not quite dressed either, and you blush in embarrassment while trying to cover yourself with your hands.

He ends up shuffling past you as you do the same, though you're going towards the shower and he's going towards the bedroom for his clothes. Once he's gone, you close the door and strip, then turn on the faucet and step into the warm water of the shower.

After showering, you walk out into the room and start to change into your second pair of clothes when you realize someone's watching you. "What's your name?" you ask, thinking it's only rational to learn the name of the man you just saw naked. He responds, "Lee, and yourself?" You tell him your name as you finish getting dressed. It's been a while since you've last spoken with someone else, period, yet it almost comes naturally speaking to him. He seems valuable, like something that you don't wanna just pass by like nothing, so you muster your courage and ask him another question, "So, you looking for someone to travel with?" He gives the vibes of being a drifter as well, so you figure there's a chance he'll say yes.

He seems surprised. "We just met. For all you know I could be a serial killer on the run." You spit back at him almost immediately, "You seem nice enough"

Next thing you know you're in his car, abandoning your hunk of junk you'd left in a nearby field and driving down a winding rural road. He's blasting Kiss in the car and singing along leisurely. The sunny scenery passes by as it melts into night, talking and singing with him all the while.

Once low on gas, he manages to find a gas station and starts to fuel the car. It's late at night, around 3 or so, and he's just gotten into the car to wait for the gas to pump. He looks at you, closer now than he ever has before, really taking in your features. You do the same, subconsciously moving closer to him while observing his countenance. His gaze darts down to your lips and back to your eyes. You can't help but do the same, causing him to take the initiative and kiss you. He starts it off tame, with little pecks on the lips, then gradually rips into his sense of yearning. He pulls you in closer hesitantly, almost as if to ask for your permission. You agree and get as close to Lee as possible. He gently bites your bottom lip and illicits a gasp, allowing for him to slip in his tongue. He soon pulls your head away by the hair and begins kissing down your neck to the top hem of your shirt. He tugs on it and looks at you expectantly.

You nod and raise your arms to allow him to take off your shirt. He then trails kisses to your chest, twisting and fidgeting with your nipples and sucking on them. He kisses your chest and playfully pulls away.

"Looks like the gas is done," he smiles, gives you a peck and hops out of the car, pulling the nozzle out of the gas port and putting it back where it goes. He starts up the car and begins driving to who knows where.

Sorry to blueball you guys 🤭 I GUESS you'll have to request a part two if you want real action 😙✌️

#lee bones and all #timothée chalamet #bones and all #maren bones and all #cannibalposting #reqs open #send me asks

[kiraman]

I AM ON MY KNEES SCREAMING ALL OVER THIS VID goodness me!! it takes a lot of NERVE to stare into someone BURSTING like a mf firework with rage and beg “COOL IT COOL IT COOL IT”

he is so SLEEK. so focused, ruthless, relentless, an agent of his own will, he can already see the finish line and nothing’s waiting for him there but death but he’s already dead anyway, he’s got nothing to lose. LIKE.

i can’t explaing how much I LOVE writing modern mizu as yakuza-born vengeful, furious, tormented orphan unleashed like a raging inferno upon the world, hungered for revenge!!!!! this is my fav AU and i am OBSESSED

he is the boogeyman? mizu is the onryo. he kills for what’s been violently taken from him? so does SHE and she’s unstoppable, uncompromising, ferocious, unhinged I AM RAMBLING but some parts of my story just have me so floored because I frantically, fiendishly adore this modern version of Mizu SO BAD

“One of the russians asks him incredulously if he’s got a woman stashed away somewhere. ’‘probably in a freezer” Vladmir, the driver, comments later. Mizu does not answer. She does not smile. Apathetically she slowly dons her leather jacket, readjusts her shades on her nose. In the morning, a man washes up on the banks of the river. Vladmir does not show up at work.

LIKE SHE. SHE!!!

and when she cries out in desperation, says “Mizu please. Fuck, please—” Mizu stills the hand between her legs to complete motionlessness, growls. “No— ride my hand.” And she does, god, she does, she’s a wild thing on her lap, feral with desire; she clutches at her shoulders and rolls her hips violently back and forth, lets her fingers sink inside her again and again, snapping her hips forward, hungered for more. Mizu keeps her hand achingly still, tightly pressed against her pussy, but she, too, is completely gone, hanging on by a thread; she watches her ride her hand, feels her walls spasm around her fingers, feels them quiver, god she’s burning from the inside out, taking her in again and again, she’s barely lifting her hips off of her now, keeps her fingers buried so deep inside her, Mizu thinks nothing will ever be able to fill her like her fingers have,

LIKE BITCH. why are you so FERAL.

She looks like an electrical storm waiting to happen. There is thunder in the way she cracks her bones, slow, precise, everything about her is so, dark and hungered, even the way she looks at you has teeth. She wonders who Smoke really is at 4 a.m. when the rest of the world is sleeping. She’s never seen her fall asleep, just once, back in that room, overtaken by fever…

listen writing this chapter is absolutely DEMOLISHING me. I am trying so so hard to find the right words and ways to make you all understand how INSANE she is, trying so hard to somehow cross all the wires. all of them. every wire in her very human damaged beyond repair (huh) brain—rage and fury, love, desire, sex, hatred, hunger, repulsion, shame, pragmatism and choice; affection and how she LOATHES it because she is so unworthy she doesn't know what to do with it , her anger that eats her up right down to her bones, pride, betrayal, her selfishness. her lies. all of them, every single one—make it snarl up like a bunch of her lover’s necklaces left on top of her dresser before she leaves her.

She rips right through the night like a bullet, fills her hands with blood. when she comes back she sits soaked in blood that is not her own on the floor and slowly, perfectly, unerringly unpicks those necklaces left on her dresser, so that Geraldine can wear them again. She does not react when she thanks her but eats her out like she is starving for it and when she tries to return the favour Mizu shrugs her off and takes the COLDEST iciest shower possible. when she leaves, she does not look back. BYE this girl is insane I love her. Mizu in her dapper suit, shades on, neon light glinting off its pristine skeleton, that sleek curling strand of her hair falling into her eye, sprawled out, legs open, the two top buttons of her shirt undone and a perpetual cold snarl on her mouth which is very sweet and sometimes slick with lipstick.... PEACE OUT

#this is me just being EXCITED over my own fictional character of a fictional character based on ANOTHER fictional character BYE #sex cw// #violence cw // #for the snippets lmao #writing misadventures galore. #john wick tag. #killing strangers. #inspo tag #UGHHHH #john wick mizu i know u would DETEST me but pls give me one (1) chance

[beachy--head]

the land at the end of our toes (grey's anatomy, one-shot)

"If she, April, insecure, rambling, not-top-of-the-class April, can pass her boards all while losing her virginity and having a religious meltdown in front of her examiners, then it's obvious that Jackson has this in the bag and is just messing with her.

But he turns and slowly raises his gaze from his phone to her face. He looks at her, and she knows."

Jackson fails his boards, and April doesn't know what to do.

Note: Because apparently my brain only works on "what-if" scenarios these days.

(read on ao3 or ff.net)

___

She hears Meredith squeal, and sees Cristina and Alex link their arms and bounce together, and she smiles. She doesn't need anything else to guess that the emails they got, just like the own she just read, started by "The American Board of Surgery is pleased to inform you that you've successfully passed the General Surgery Qualifying Exam." She wasn't prepared for how elated she currently feels, a warm feeling of satisfaction and relief taking over her whole body, from head to toe. Every sacrifice, every late night spent studying, every teasing remark thrown her way was worth it. Nothing, absolutely nothing, can spoil this feeling.

And then she sees that Jackson, who has his back turned away from her, is completely still. Not talking, not moving, and her first reaction is "no."

If she, April, insecure, rambling, not-top-of-the-class April, can pass her boards all while losing her virginity and having a religious meltdown in front of her examiners, then it's obvious that Jackson has this in the bag and is just messing with her.

But he turns and slowly raises his gaze from his phone to her face. He looks at her, and she knows.

The part where nothing could spoil her happiness? She was terribly wrong, and the warm feeling turns into a cold shower. She takes a step towards him, but Jackson shakes his head and walks away. She hears more than she sees Alex, Meredith and Cristina realizing something's not right, feels their gaze on her, waiting for an explanation, but she can't explain what she can't process. Not yet.

___

At first, he doesn't talk. When she comes back to the apartment they share with Alex, she finds him sitting on the couch in front of a game, a beer in his hand. He doesn't say a word. Not when she calls his name, not when she asks him if he's okay, not when she joins him on the couch and looks at him. He flinches when she puts her hand on his shoulder, and shakes his head again.

"Jackson, I'm sorry, I know it's hard, but–"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"It's not, it doesn't mean anything, you can retake them next year, and I–"

"April. I don't want to talk about it."

"But I just–"

"April." His gaze is imploring, pleading, so she shuts up and looks towards the TV screen.

And she gets it, kind of. Jackson will listen to her ramblings, he will calm her when she panics, he will go out of his way to make her feel safe, but when it comes to him? The man is a feelings-burying machine. Jackson doesn't do emotions on a good day. So on a bad one? Well, she already knows what happens. The nightmares, and the PTSD, and the pretending everything's fine. The "I don't need to see a shrink", "talking about it won't help, it's done", "let me take care of you so I can ignore my own pain", and these are the moments she kind of hates the Avery family, because she's pretty sure none of them are big about talking about how they feel.

So she keeps her mouth shut, grabs a beer, and stays with him until the game is over.

___

His next step is avoidance.

The next morning, he's gone before April or Alex wakes up, and even though she kind of gets it, she's strangely hurt by it. At the hospital, he takes advantage of the fact that it's a slow day to lock himself in the skills lab, pretending not to hear her when she knocks on the door. Mark comes by to try to talk him into opening the door, but the Sloan charm is no match against the Avery stubbornness. Mark is stern, Mark is comprehensive, Mark is cajoling, but the door stays closed, and the attending shakes his head before going back to his patients.  

It's not a special treatment he reserves for her or Mark, though. Catherine Avery is the next victim, and in a sense, April gets it. Catherine can be a lot to deal with, and Jackson's worse fear was to disappoint her. However, him not answering her calls means Catherine has to find a new target, and the next time April looks at her phone, she sees a dozen missed calls from Boston, a few texts and one voicemail that she's not sure she wants to listen to. When her phone rings again, she gathers whatever courage she has left and answers. Catherine doesn't waste time greeting her and goes straight to the point.

"How is he?"

"I, I don't know, he's not talking much–"

"Can I talk to him?"

"He's in the lab, I don't–"

Catherine cuts her off and launches into a monologue about unfairness, legacy, hardships and life lessons, "and don't worry, I already gave Richard a piece of my mind about this," and April's not sure what Richard Webber has anything to do with this, but it's not like Catherine needs her to answer. She can read between the lines though, and Catherine's sighs and pshaws don't hide too well the fact that she feels guilty. Well, join the club.

When she finally hangs up, after Catherine half-promises, half-threatens to come to Seattle if Jackson doesn't answer his phone soon, she goes back to the lab and knocks again, to no avail.

___

The third stage of the ‘Jackson Avery failing his boards' response is getting drunk. They're at Meredith's house, at the party she's throwing to celebrate them passing their boards, and at first she doesn't get why he’s here. Watching people celebrate the exam you didn't pass cannot be good for you. But she sees him knock back three shots of tequila in a row with Cristina and she figures he deserves to let loose, to forget his problems for one night.

She manages to keep an eye on him from afar, ready to intervene before he suffers from alcohol poisoning, but she doesn't say anything until a few hours later. Maybe it's her own alcohol intake that makes her bolder, but she corners him in the kitchen and says she won't leave until he talks to her.

Jackson's "There's nothing to say, April" is met with an eye roll. She waits, and soon that statement is followed by the most un-Jackson-like rambling she's ever heard. She didn’t even know he could talk that much.

"And my grandfather, my grandfather is going to kill me. No, scratch that, he's going to disinherit me. Burn me off the family tree tapestry, like they did with that guy in that Harry Potter movie you made me watch, right? Leave a dark hole where my name should be on that tree, pretend I never existed and move on. I’ll be just like my dad. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree and all that. Then he's going to kill me for soiling the good Avery name. 'Averys don't fail'. Yeah right."

For someone who has rejected his family legacy his whole life, he looks so broken she can’t help but takes a step towards him. She doesn’t know how to act with him anymore, doesn’t know if she can touch him, if he would welcome it, but she tries anyways and put her hand on his arm.

"I was already the quack of the family, the dumb one, going into plastics, but now? He'll probably say that I should just stop wasting everyone's time and just become a model or something. 'Something where you won't need to use what little brain you have, son.'"

He laughs, a sour laugh she never wants to hear from him ever again, a laugh that breaks her heart, takes a sip of his beer and keeps going.

"And my mom?" He closes his eyes and shakes his head, not even wanting to entertain the idea, but doing so anyway. "She's going to come yelling in the middle of the hospital, then do the whole 'I'm not mad, I'm just disappointed' shtick, and the worse thing is, she'd be right! I'm an embarrassment."

She opens her mouth to tell him that of course he's not an embarrassment, that he should never be defined by his grades or the result of an exam or his family name, but he moves away, making a beeline towards the drinks table in the living room, and she loses sight of him for the next hours. When she comes back to the apartment, he's already asleep in his room, and she doesn't have the heart to wake him up.

___

She feels guilty. She's April Kepner, so of course she feels guilty, but this guilt has a special flavor. While rationally, she knows that Jackson failing is not entirely her fault, she can't help but think that she has contributed to it, and it's not a great feeling to have. She's not vain enough to think that their romps were enough to throw him off balance (he was of course amazing, but she was losing her virginity, and he's the guy who lost his with two girls at once when he was a freaking teenager, so their trysts were probably nothing he’s never seen), but she knows she could have handled the whole "you made me break my promise to Jesus" a little bit better. And maybe, just maybe, she shouldn't have started the whole dirty talk in a bathroom just when he was telling her about his mom being in the exam room next to his. Maybe she should have spent more time making him feel better and less time... well, making herself feel good.

But the thing is, she can't even apologize, because it's not going to help Jackson. If she goes to him and says she's sorry, he's going to be all "you have nothing to be sorry for", "it's all my fault", because he's a good friend that way, and it is annoying. She can't make him feel guilty because she feels guilty. He's the one freaking out, he has earned the right. Because if she were the one failing her boards? She doesn't know how she'd react, but it would probably not be anything good. So she decides to take a page out of his book and to bottle everything up.

Or at least she tries.

She goes home that night to find him on the couch, again, alone. Alex has volunteered to cover the night shift, which should have been Jackson's, and April speaks enough Alex to know it's his way to look out for his roommate without ever uttering the word “sorry”.

"You're okay?"

He’s not, but she feels like she doesn't know how to talk to him anymore.

He shrugs, not looking at her, and she can't really blame him. She's heard from Sloan today that Emory, Penn and Tulane have rescinded his offers, because they want a board-certified plastics surgeon. UCLA is apparently still interested, but she remembers Jackson's reaction after that interview, and knows that offer has mostly to do with his last name. They should talk about this though, about his options. She's pretty sure he won't want to go back to Boston, but maybe there's a way he could stay in Seattle.

"I'm sorry, that was a stupid question."

He shakes his head, still not looking at her, and she's sworn she wouldn't do this, but he just feels so helpless and she has to do something.

"I shouldn't have jumped you the night before. I should have let you focus on the boards and helped you out, instead of assaulting you and then guilting you. You didn't deserve that, and I'm sorry."

That manages to catch his attention. He finally looks at her, and she's startled by the emotions swirling into his eyes.

"You have nothing to be sorry for."

"Yes, I have. I jumped you! And, and instead of listening to you, I kicked you out, and then I seduced you," she whispers the last two words, because April Kepner doesn't usually seduce men, "in a public bathroom!"

"April, stop. You didn't seduce me. You didn’t make me do anything I didn–"

"So I would get it if you'd hate me, I would, because I'm not a good friend, I'm not even a good person, so you have every right to be mad at me!"

"I'm not mad at you."

"Well, you should! It would be completely normal, and I would understand, I mean it is in part my fau–"

"April, shut up."

"And I know that sex doesn't have the same meaning for you that it has for me, but I still shouldn't have distracted y–"

She finally shuts up, because his lips are on hers, hot, fervent, demanding. He kisses her like he needs it to breathe, and she answers with the same fervor. She needs him to be okay, and he's not, so she kisses him like she could make the whole situation better. 

The first time they kissed, it was soft, new, gentle. The next day, it was passionate, feverish, rushed. But this kiss? This kiss is desperate. It's full of I need you, of uncertainty, of longing. It soothes and hurts at the same time, it burns and swallows them both whole. She tilts her head when his mouth descends on her neck, and she moans softly when he sucks on her skin, when he slips his hand under her shirt, when he holds her neck to bring her even closer, as if he were afraid she’d leave.

It's when they start removing their clothes that her brain finally intervenes. Maybe we shouldn't do this, maybe we should tak about this, but he looks at her again, the way he did in that hotel room in San Francisco, and the next thing she knows, she's helping him remove his sweatpants and his boxer. I'm not taking advantage of him, he needs this, she tries to tell her guilty conscience, and then gets lost in him, his hands roaming her body, already knowing their way home.

She kind of needs this too.

___

The hospital is buzzing with anticipation, the residents making their final decisions for their fellowships. Everyone tries to guess who's going where, Meredith having already changed her mind twice between Boston and Seattle, and it's not rare for a "Good morning" greeting from an attending to be replaced by "So?".

So? April has no idea.

During a lull in the ER, her feet take her to the conference room, where Hunt has summarized the residents’ offers and decisions. The drawing board has never looked more menacing, and coming closer, she can see her name and a few lines coming out of it. UVA. Mount Sinai. Case Western. Seattle.

The name ‘Avery’, though, has a big question mark next to it.

Case Western had been her first choice, back when life was so much simpler and her focus was on studying and interviewing well. Back when Jackson was her best friend and she didn’t know the feeling on his lips on her, back when she was the girl who waited and never went first. But the jerk she punched at the boards had insinuated that maybe her skills weren't the only things she would be hired for, and now that the seed was planted, she couldn't ignore it. She had spent way too much time worrying about her surgical skills, about what people would think of her, and she's tired to do so, so just like that, Case Western is out of the running.

She knows there's no right or wrong answer. All three of her remaining offers are from renowned hospitals, with solid trauma departments, and she knows she’ll learn no matter where she goes. She could stay in Seattle. She could spread her wings and go to the other side of the country. She could go live the New York life, or try out something new in Virginia. She could meet new people, she could stay with old friends.

She can do anything she wants, and it's absolutely terrifying.

She feels him come into the room more than she hears him, and doesn't move when he comes to stand right next to her. He doesn't speak, looking at the white board that displays all these possibilities. She takes his hand and squeezes it lightly, her thumb drawing circles on his palm, because she figures being lost feels a little bit less scary when you're not the only one.

#japril #japril ff #japril fanfiction #jackson x april #april kepner #jackson avery #grey's fanfic #grey's anatomy #fanfiction #one shot #my fics

[nonbinarycringe404]

@angelcactus this one is for you buddy :}

Don't worry I'll make more bread and pasta for your tears.

Angel woke up alone in her bed, the sheets were comfy and warm, her pillow soft.

She rolled over to find another cold spot in the bed only to be met by two smiling green eyes.

“Morning bestie”

Angel screamed.

“VIN WHAT THE FUCK!?” she shouted at her freelancer best friend.

“Brother you are SLEEPING IN on your WEDDING DAY.”

“Oh shit for real,” Angel looked at her phone and checked the date,” IT'S ALREADY 10?! WHY DIDN'T MY ALARMS WAKE ME UP?!” She rushed to the bathroom and began her daily routine.

Vinnie looked down at her phone, “you had your phone on silent dingus,” they laughed and grabbed Angel's dress out of the closet right as she came out of the bathroom.

“Ok, I need hair, dress, uh shoes? Should I shower or smell?” she started a spiral of rambles until vinnie shushed her.

“Stop. First, you need food. I made you some pancakes, I can bring them up so you and David don't see each other but that's also not going to be a problem since he woke up early as hell to help him start getting himself and the venue ready.”

Angel took a deep breath.

“You're right, let's get this show on the road so Davey isn't kept waiting.'' Angel smiled brightly, and Vinnie chuckled.

“Alright, you get your clothes laid out and I'll grab your breakfast,” Vinnie said as they walked out.

Angel got to work, grabbed her shoes, and started looking for a hair curler. Vinnie came back with strawberry crepes, bacon, and a big glass of orange juice. After she ate, she took a quick shower, and then got into her dress while Vinnie quickly did her hair. 

While they were working on Angel, Asher was down at the venue with David who was nervously watching everyone set up everything. The venue was taking place indoors so the vamps could join and since William was officiating. The shaw pack, Solaire clan, and everyone who was friends or family were helping set everything up. Now with 30 minutes until it started everyone was finding their seats and taking their places.

“Vin just texted me, they're on their way,” Asher said, texting back and ‘I love you’ to his mate.

“Are they on their way now? With 30 minutes left? “ David sighed and sat down in a chair.

“Hey buddy, it’s okay! Look everything is done and you both are ready to go!” Asher smiled, resisting the urge to mess up his hair.

David sighed again, “true. Well, we should get down there so we can start when they both get here.” Asher nodded and texted his mate.

*time skip brought to you by max’s rustic pizza*

Angel and Vinnie got to the venue 10 minutes before it started. Angel was dressed in a pastel pink strawberry dress that matched her short red hair perfectly, while vinnie was in a tuxedo dress with a pink bowtie to match the bride.

Marie and Asher met the two at the front. 

“Oh, angel darling, you look great! You both look great! Don't they look great asher?” she asked in her heavy Italian accent. Asher however was attempting to pick his jaw off the floor after seeing how amazing his mate looked.

“Babe- you- i- '' Asher couldn't speak, his brain was fried.

“Hush puppy boy. Angel, “ vinnie took angels hands in their own,” you're gonna do great out there.`` They smiled and gave their best friend a hug before walking away to their spots.

“You ready?” Marie asked.

Angel took a look at the crowd in front of her.

“Born ready.”

**

The music started, everyone rose and watched as the groomsmen and bridesmaids walked down the aisle. Milo walking with Marcel, and Asher walking with Vinnie. David walked down with Gregory from the Keaton pack since his father sadly passed. Once they were at the altar, Gregory went over to his chair up front after sharing small words with William. 

The music slowed and soon came Angel, being walked down by Marie.

Even from a far distance, everyone could see how happy she was despite her tears, Asher looked over at David and saw he was crying silent happy tears. Once at the altar, Marie sat down and William began the ceremony. The two traded vows, promises, and rings with a simple ‘I do.’ 

#besties #redacted shaw pack #redacted audio #marrige #angelcactus #thiscountsasyourchristmaspresent

[iwannaban0nym0us]

ok so the past 2 days have been a ride—both good and bad—so I think it's time for one of my rambly posts about life!

ok to summarize: monday amazing, shop internship everything looks great, weird to see freshmen around tho, finished up my remote internship, soccer practice was actually good for once, and then it got late and my brian started running in circles and stressing about seeing my ex-girlfriend (M) again, then i talked to one of my friends for a while which was cool, today was quite a roller coaster, morning more shop internship which was great it looks even better in there now an i'm sad it'll only last a like week tho, then people started showing up and at first it was great because like friends, but then when i was moving some stuff down to the garage i walked past the main hallway and saw M and internally freaked the fuck out, and then i just went back to work and i saw them 2 more times but didn't have the nerve to actually go talk to them, then i had to go do orientation stuff but a bit before that i ended up running up to M to scare them and then i saw my asshole ex and their boyfriend so I patted M on the head while running past and then went to find my friends, then we did some orentation stuff, then we had lunch, at one point i left my friends and talked to M for like 20+ min, and then more orientation stuff, including some advisory time, and then i talked to M a bit more after that, and then my friends and i walked a block over to get some ice cream, and i just had soccer practice

Ok, starting w/ yesterday, I don't think this will be too long, the shop internship was great and keeping myself busy doing that stuff that a) i enjoy and b) is helpful for a space i spend a lot of time in is good for me and the shop, so win win. It was weird that the freshmen were around tho since thursday friday and the first week of the summer meant that I had gotten used to the campus just being teachers (and a few interns). I knew one of the freshmen from interning at our school's summer so it was cool to get to see her and I think I convinced her to join the robotics team so that's cool.

Alright, now yesterday's soccer practice, which was actually good???? So for context pre-season was a fucking shitshow we didn't play like a team at all and i felt like such an outsider since 2 teams w/ already established friend groups merged and i didn't come from either team. But yesterday's practice was the first slp (my team aka the lower team - really means state premier league) practice where the npl team (the better team - really means national premier league) wasn't around and I def think that helped. Also I'm like really glad I'm not on npl because the spl coach is much nicer and it seems like the players on spl are nice too (and the division we're playing in is still higher than what i played last year which wasn't even my intention when i joined the team).

So anyway, practice, for the first hour we did a build out drill that was really good for me as a goalie because it was specifically designed to use me as a goalie (which doesn't happen that often) but also just generally a good drill. Then for the last half hour we just sat and talked as a team which I know sounds cheesy but it actually wasn't really and we def needed it. Our coach like reminded us that we need to be one team and we did like a gratitude circle and said what we were looking forward to (didn't have to be soccer related) and then our coach told that despite what the npl coach says (which is that it's a disappointment if we don't win the league) all he wants from us is the put in the effort so that individually and collectively we will get better with each game.

Alright, and then I came home and it was kinda late and then I ate and showered and it was def late and so my brain started to spin in circles and stress about today and how exactly my first interaction w/ M since the breakup was gonna go. Then one of my friends called me and we first talked about their problems and then mine and then random stuff and so that was nice.

Ok, today, the fucking roller coaster of a day that was today. So it started of good, just more of the shop internship, like the usually stuff. It was still good when a few of my friends and just people I knew showed up and stopped by the shop and said hi, it was, again, weird to hear how loud the hallway got, but it was ok. But then at some point I took smth down to the garage and I felt like I was about to start crying or have a panic attack or smth in the elevator because as I walked over I saw M for the first time in 2+ months and it was just a lot and terrified me. Then I went back to the shop and tried really fucking hard to focus on shop tasks, which included at least one more trip to the garage (maybe 2 i can't remember) and so I caught a glimpse of M again and it freaked me out again I didn't have the courage to go up to them and say hi or anything. So I did some more shop tasks, at one point I saw a big group of my friends which was great, oh and I also moved 7 anvils which was fun and the physical moment both was a really good distraction and gave me energy.

So now, the part where I was mildly stupid because no one was around to stop me. So I left the shop like 15min before orientation started to go find people and say hi and I didn't see any of my friends around and so I was like 'ok I can start a conversation w/ my ex by sneaking up on them and scaring them and I should do it now while I have energy and before I totally overthink this' (to be fair sneaking up on them and scaring them is something I've been doing since we first became friends and they're not the only person I do this to) and so I just did it I fucking ran at them and then I saw that the only people around where they were sitting was my asshole ex and their boyfriend so I just scared M and sprinted away before they even had a chance to realize what was happening.

After that I ended up finding my friends and hung w/ them a bit and then like 2 min before orientation was gonna start (we were already in the room) I decided to run downstairs and grab my water bottle and that just happened to be the same time that M walked into the room and I feel kinda bad about that

So then the next thing that happened is lunch and it was pretty good to start, I was hella stressed about what to do about the M situation but I also got to show off the shop to a bunch of people equally excited about it. At some point I asked my friends 'do I do the mildly stupid thing' (meaning to those who knew what's going on, do I go talk to M) and most people (esp those who knew) said no but eventually my friends came around and realized it was smth I needed to do and so one friend was like 'go do it now but it better not take more than 2 min' and I was like 'ok let me finish eating first tho' and then when I was almost done eating I saw M walking by and decided to sneak up on them again but not run away this time and that lead to like a full on conversation, just us

I don't even remember everything we talked about but I asked if they wanted to see the shop and so led them over there and showed them around and we ended up hanging out just us in there for a while and we like shared schedules, I showed her photos of when I tried to dye my hair (w/ friends help ofc), we just like talked and it was really really nice and felt so good to just be like that w/ them again. At one point I was like 'fuck it I just need to do this' and I hugged them and it was fine and good and didn't feel awkward or romantic or bad or anything.

Then eventually some of my robotics friends showed up and we talked about some random things and then they told us another person was not gonna do robotics this year and that made M wonder if they were gonna do the play again (M's a theater kid) and so we ended up running around for a few min trying to find that person but didn't find them so we just ended up sitting down w/ M's friends. I ended up bouncing between talking to M and other people walking by (since I know a lot of people) and at one point I talked to some people in the grade below me and they were joking about 2 of my friends who aren't dating but act like it and so another one of them asked about M and I had to tell them we broke up and they ask what terms we were on and so I was like 'friends?' eventually when I was back to talk to M I asked if they'd watch star trek if there was a musical episode (at which point another one of their friends who kinda like star trek joined the conversation) and so that then led to me showing M photos of pretty star trek people and then we looked at the time and were like 'oh shit we should have been back at orientation 5 min ago' (since basically all of M's friends are not in our grade they didn't have to go yet) and so me and M sprint up to orientation together, so uh I def didn't listen to my friend's suggestion of only 2 min but I actually needed to talk to them for that long.

so then the grade dean talked for a bit and then we broke off into advisories and i find out that M's ex-boyfriend from freshmen year (who they broke up w/ in almost the exact same way as they broke up w/ me) is in the same advisory as me, so uh let's hope I don't say anything stupid to him about our mutual ex

that was it for the day so i got a chance after to go talk to M again and that was the weirdest fucking conversation, pretty quickly it turned into us hearing about my asshole ex's boyfriend's crush and how they confessed right after their crush broke up w/ their girlfriend and then my asshole ex showed up so i have was having a conversation w/ 2 of my exes and one of their boyfriends which is just weird as hell and then at one point my asshole ex (related to conversation) made a comment about being willing to ask people out over text and M (who was asked out by my asshole ex when M liked me and had heard my say shit about how much of an asshole that ex was to me) said smth about knowing that my asshole ex would do that and then I chimed in we all know that because all of us had been asked out by my asshole ex at some point not too long after that i ended up leaving to go get ice cream w/ other friends tho so that was good (and like half hugged M good bye which was cool)

anyways, boring afternoon things happened and i just had soccer practice, which was again a pretty good practice and again we didn't practice w/ npl and we also did that build out drill again which is really really helpful for me and my coach is giving me useful pointers and just getting practice in those situations is helpful

so yeah, things are way better w/ me and M now and i like needed to talk to them for a decent amount of time and for now i think i'm over them but i'm scared that won't last because i can kinda already feel myself falling for them again and i almost don't wanna stop it (and so one of my friends has promised to confront me about it if they notice me making heart eyes at M)

#me #personal #school #soccer #M #ex girlfriend #ex grayfriend

[ventcode]

I just wanna kinda,, ramble, I guess, so many thoughts on my mind, and I never really ramble on purpose (it's mostly an accidental thing..) so.

my shoulder still hurts kinda. it all hurts alot, actually. i don't know why. no matter what i do. ive stopped bringing it up over and over again though. nobody seems to quite listen. some streches, but the pain only subsides for a little bit.

im hungry, but i ate food all day yesterday. seems no matter how much i eat lately, ill still be hungry, and if i dont eat im starving, it makes my stomach feel horrible, the six and kyoko brain mix surely isn't helping.

im listening to my theme, six's theme part II, it's been calming me down, ive been humming along, im just making sure i dont have another panic attack, it surely does help, afterall its calmed me down before, as six. im not surprised it still helps now.

i keep having to change my shirt, it gets uncomfortable too much, its quite annoying, i put on deodorant too but it seems to wear off and it becomes uncomfortable again, maybe i just need to shower tomorrow (today? i don't count it as the next day until i wake up that morning.), that must be the case, im just not clean.

speaking of, its annoying but i seem to always need reminders to do stuff, or i dont take care of myself and do my own thing, with the food thing its gotten better since im always really hungry lately, so the first thing i try to do when i have time is eat food. but with the other stuff of taking care of myself, i seem to neglect it. showering. cleaning my room (i havent done that in MONTHS). drinking water. brushing my teeth. laundry stuff. i always need reminders. but i cant get reminders from my parents. "you're 14, you need to remember this stuff", and if I set a reminder on my phone, I always swipe away the notification and forget about it without fail. it's annoying. i hate that.

I miss my fort from last year, my matress on the ground next to the window, my tv there, just. ofc it neglected the rest of my room but. i miss my own little space there. it was from a calmer time. it had problems like bugs (i found a cockroach crawling on the tv once at night), but otherwise, everything else was okay, i miss just. i miss that, i guess. maybe I should use that tv again, it still works, just not my PS4, the Wii U works though, so, maybe I'll try that.

I think about holding your hand alot, anywhere, I don't really care where it is, but lately I just. have the feeling it'd be nice to just hold your hand, like you're there with me, I've just been holding onto that pillows sleeve more and more, like im holding onto your hand, it keeps the comfort, it helps just a little, I wish it was real, I want to hold your hand. When we meet, I don't think I'll let go of it. ^^"

My dreams have all been,, upsetting as of late, probably because of my anxieties before I go to bed. it sucks, it gets me in a bad mood in the morning, but I'm trying not to lose my hope for atleast a better dream, if dreams reflect subconscious, then I just have to think good things before bed right? I surely try but, I don't know why they all end up bad, I have alot of bad days, but, during the evening, it gets a bit better, and then bad again, I don't know what's really been happening. A horrible nightmare, they're stressing me, but I need to stop thinking too hard on them, if I do, then nothing good is bound to happen.

I think of those bad opinions on me, I'm really no monster, I'm a traumatized 9 year old, a kid, a child, I'm little. I'm surviving in a world that's trying to kill me. I really just wanted to survive, that's all I wanted. sure I ate a nome and I ate the ladys fucking neck and probably did something else Im unaware of in source atm and didn't save those kids in the maw, but, I really am no monster. I swear and promise. I didn't want to be the "hero who saved the kids", I wanted out, to survive, cause I'm a fucking child. I wish everyone knew that. but who'd believe me, if anything, everyone else would think im crazy, that I'm not really six, that im most likely just delusional, and that upsets me. so I can't be honest. that's such a stupid reason but, yk, the anxieties. (fun not so fun fact! during those hunger pangs when i was playing the game and watching you play as well, my stomach felt like SHIT dude. </3)

Speaking of, depending on the ID, I hate referring to myself in 3rd person (unless im speaking in 3p at the time), it just bothers me and I feel separated from myself, and it hurts. with some its fine and others its not. and sometimes I fuck up, so I'll accidentally refer to myself in 1st person with an irl friend and they'll look confused, I mostly just go oops and correct myself but, god does it really hurt, alot. But I don't wanna be honest abt that since it's easier to just refer in 3rd. even I just do it out of habit, but it just gives me a bad feeling, like I'm not me, and the others aren't. the others. I don't know. maybe I just have issues and shit.

idk why but talking about that just reminded me of that time I met a double and got them banned from using tumblr. bro is that mad !!! but srsly I got like so mad in the dream and spam reported them and Tumblr was on my side and banned the account and ANY NEW ACCOUNTS THEY MADE. bro dream me is winning everyday (/lie im having frequent nightmares!! /silly)

it's hard to talk but also extremely easy to talk, the words come out but I don't want them to, like I don't really want to talk to anyone, of course I make my exceptions, if nobody could tell /silly but, idk, it feels meaningless to talk, I'd rather just. do stuff. not talk unless needed, but, when most your friends are online, you kind of need to talk most of the time, or nobody understands what you're saying, even on voice calls, not like I wanna have my camera on at all times (depending on the person), so, it's still useless, I don't exactly know what to do about this, I feel myself talking more and more even though I wanna talk less and less. oops I guess.

me and toaster talked, we're still friends, but we wont contact for awhile, or atleast not every day, i apologized, and so did he, i really do feel bad for acting like an asshole. but everything's okay now, and it'll all be okay.

seems im getting teary eyed writing,, all this, there's so much I'm saying, yet I say I wanna talk less, that's funny, isn't it? I've written so many thoughts down that it's been like 40 minutes at this point, that's funny, how much is really on my mind.

enjoy my thoughts and rambles, I know atleast one person will read this, waving!! sorry I ruined my sleep schedule again, I'll do better.. :')

Goodnight. ♡

[bloodandfleshautism]

I just spent like five minutes straight brushing my teeth at 11:30 pm bc I am so anxious abt my teeth bc like. For the past ~4 years I have been so incredibly swamped by depression (I stopped showering regularly for a while, constantly rewearing unwashed comfort clothes, losing track of my oral hygiene etc). So like. My teeth are kinda mid rn. I got my braces off after three fucking years a few months ago and the orthodontist told me I might have like. The beginning of a small cavity. And it freaked me the fuck out bc my entire life I’ve never had a cavity and as a little kid I was so hellbent on hygiene all the time and even tho I lost track of it it still freaks me out when things aren’t visibly clean n shit. And I was like. AUGAGHGGH FUCKKK WTFFF. And like she told me to go to the dentist (which I keep desperately trying to get my parents to organise to no fucking avail bc they can’t do shit if I ask them to do anything ever) and my New Years resolution is to fix up my shit with all that but I’m actually like serious about it. I don’t wanna fuck up my teeth mannnn that’s like an actual major fear for me bc it just always has been???? That and eyes ig. And idk rn I’m just rly anxious about my teeth. I’m trying rly hard to get a proper and fully consistent schedule back on it but I’ve been so stressed and busy and tired and drowning in school and it all just keeps getting in the way of my brain and doing something actually good for once. I’ve decided to set twice daily timers now to try and get a routine up and running better. I hope it works. I think it might be the ol autism making it a struggle bc it’s so difficult for me to get things out OR IN to my daily routine. I’m kinda just pissed and scared at this point. And I’ve had such a shit week this week I won’t get into it but god it was shit. And I forgot to take my meds this morning and I got my “why are u here I have he in my bio” evil time today and I’m just sad and anxious and ready to cry again for no reason I’m so fucking tired man. What the fuck am I rambling on about I’m leaving goodnight

#uh #tw mental health #or something #idk #I’m fucking off now #I just have too many thoughts sorry