#but that just means I'm not very witty I suppose

[plushish]

Adam with a reader who’s very witty and quick with comebacks?

just some silly pre-conference banter! | Adam x Reader

headcanon/drabble — how would Adam be like with a reader who is sharp-witted?

content & warnings — NSFW, fem reader, fem pronouns, fingering & cunnilingus, sexual act happening in a public place (workplace).

a/n — this takes place in some sort of office-setting, i dont know what goes on up there in heaven but i like to think its similar to what we've seen so far in hell, so i'm sure conferences aren't unheard of. i wasn't sure what format this idea should take, so it begins like a headcanon list but finishes up with a drabble. it's also rushed and i struggled with it a lot but. we ball!!!!!!

Adam considers himself to be a pretty funny guy, always dishing out 'sick burns' on others, but his pride gets hurt really easily. When it comes to a reader who can keep up with him in comebacks; he's definitely impressed by it, thinks it's hot as fuck, but he'd never openly admit it because it also a ignites a strong sense of competition in him.  

The tension between the two of you is uncomfortably palpable, how you twist him through every conversation and leave him to stammer like a fool just when he thinks he's bested you. Watching him seethe is endlessly entertaining to you, it brings you satisfaction, finding your own sense of pride in seeing that bad boy persona crack little by little.

The two of you will be going back-and-forth every time Sera calls for a conference, taking up half of the allotted time with your back-and-forths, and everyone graced with the luck to have been summoned there just wishes the two of you would fuck already so they didn't have to keep sitting through this.

But he secretly likes it, your flippancy towards his status and identity as First Man, how you're always so quick to shut down his sleazy remarks with an air of arrogance, going toe-to-toe with his own. Cute. 

Until one day, you finally give into him– He somehow manages to get you to fuck him, and for days after, his bragging around the office is incessant: "[Name] cries when she cums!", "Her orgasm face is just the cutest fuckin' thing, I mean could you imagine? Wait, actually don't, don't picture it–"

You start to get fed up, not only annoyed at his oversharing and his ceaseless bragging about things that simply weren't true, but because you hadn't even gotten to cum from the experience. Instead of confronting him, you had a plan in place that would get you what you wanted, so you instead opted to ignore the hushed whisperings around you all day.

...Until a little later, when you're in an empty conference room together, and he's sitting across the table from you. Licking the lid of his yogurt container with a smug look. Mimicking the disappointingly tepid treatment he'd given to you the night before.

"Should we... address what happened, [Name]?" He asks smugly, like it was a topic of business, leaning forward onto the table with his hands clasped together.

"No, I'm good." 

"Noooo?" Adam's voice is as sugary as the extra pumps of syrup he'd overloaded his coffee with this morning in the breakroom. You'd seen that diabetes-inducing horror as it happened. "Why not? I feel like it's something we should talk about."

"Why?" You ask simply. "It happened, and that's it."

That gets him a little annoyed. Confused, too; why weren't you playing along?

"Didn't mean a thing to you, then?"

"Nah."

"Oh please, [Name]," he scoffs. He’s getting offended at the thought now, his wings giving a small flap in indignance. He’s supposed to be the aloof one! You should be begging for it to happen again.

"Don't fuckin' play. My dick gave you the best fuck you've ever had and now you don’t know how to feel."

“The best? At putting me to sleep, maybe. I did get a good nap out of it afterward, so.”

To Adam, the only thing better than your negative attention is your positive attention, and the only thing worse than that is your indifference. He hates feeling desperate, but you bring him to that shameful peak.

“You were on my dick like you had a fuckin' crush,” Adam continues to ramble on, trying to find a weak spot. “Fucking me probably meant a lot to you, huh?” 

"I hump my pillow before bed and it means as much." 

"Your pillow can't plow you like I do."

"No, but at least it actually gets me to cum."

Adam’s dick twitches in his pants. You know exactly what you're doing. Those words, delivered with that cruel flippancy he loves and hates so much, are precisely tailored-- All to drive him over the edge. 

“Then maybe that was just a trial run,” He says after a long, fervent pause. "Maybe you need another taste."

You smirk a little, but only offer more disdain.

"No thanks, I've had enough to decide I'm no longer interested."

"Oh come on," He finally says. He's desperate at another chance now, he needs the validation of making you cum for his pride to be restored.

"Just give me one more shot?"

And so there you are, bottoms down, legs spread, Adam's fingers inside you, sitting on the edge of the table where a meeting is supposed to happen in about 25 minutes.

You're sopping wet. He drags a finger over your cunt before spreading it. "You're so cute, all blushing and shit. Makes me crazy hard."

"Your vocabulary is fucking terrible. Stop talking."

"You like it, though." He grins, teasingly lifting his fingers away from your aching cunt to show you your own wetness. You let out a small whine at the absence. "You sure you want me to stop?"

"Shut up, I said," You grab him by his hair and shove his mouth where you want it, aggressive and impatient. "-and start eating."

Normally Adam is not one to take demands like that. But in this position-- looking up at your stern face from between your legs--he obeys. He kisses at your cunt over and over, sweet little pecks like a first crush. The sensation makes your core tighten around nothing. Adam was not one to take his time; he was teasing you like this on purpose. You weren't having it.

And so pettily, you decide to say: "You can do better than that."

So naively, he does, he takes your dare and you're practically gushing all over the conference table by the time he gets in there and starts eating for real. Desperately suckling your clit between those smirking lips, that mouth that never fucking shuts up.

You cum with a satisfied sigh, as if you'd just had a good stretch rather than an orgasm on his face. He looks up at you expectantly, lips glistening with your aftertaste. Eyes wide and eager, waiting for the praise that is to come, only for you to lean in and whisper:

"Look who has a crush now."

a/n — pls forgive me for taking so long to answer this! i don't think it's exactly what you're looking for but i tried. it's more of an "adam with a reader who he has a sexually-charged, competitive work relationship with" type of deal. you just like to play with him and you know exactly how to make him desperate

#adam headcanons #hazbin hotel headcanons #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel x reader #adam x reader #adam hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #adam smut

[noyzinerd]

I feel like Stiles and I share the unique trait of shamelessly enjoying our hobbies without embarrassment (which I highly recommend trying, by the way, it's very freeing).

I'd love to see a Sterek fic of Stiles emitting the same vibe as all these times I startled a laugh out of people (and/or became instantly endearing by just refusing to feel ashamed):

Stranger: What are you looking at?

Me: Teen Wolf fanfiction.

Stranger: *startled laugh* W-what?!

Me: What? Am I supposed to be embarrassed? I'm married in my 30s. Who do I have to impress?

-----

Me, after finding where I placed my phone: Oop, wouldn't want anyone finding that.

Acquaintance: Ooooooo~ why? 😏 Are you hiding something?

Me: No. I just have a lot of porn on there.

Acquaintance: *shocked laughter*

-----

[After 6 hours of silently listening to our permitted music at work]

New Gen Z coworker: Hey, what do you think about when you listen to music?

Me: Naruto fight scenes.

Coworker: *horrified wheeze* How can you just say that? I mean, yeah, we all think it, but you're not allowed to just say it out loud! That's how you get S.W.A.T-ted.

Me: Don't be jealous.

Coworker: I am, actually.

-----

Stiles being sarcastic and witty is great and all, but Stiles answering honestly in complete deadpan I feel like is so much funnier.

Plus, the thought of Stiles startling a laugh out of Derek by just unapologetically living fearlessly gives my brain the happy chemicals.

#sterek #teen wolf #stiles stilinski #derek hale #mieczysław stiles stilinski #tyler hoechlin #dylan o'brien #Live fearlessly #Love what you love shamelessly #The Stiles way #Fun fact: all of my examples eventually became my friends #The coworker even ended up living with me and my hubby for 9 months when he was on the brink of being homeless and about to live in his car #The fastest way to make really close like-minded friends almost instantly #Gotta love Stiles openly talking about penis stuff

[aestherin]

privacy

38: daylight

"— but I hurt you!"

"And I don't give a fuck." He breathes. "Heck, I would even let you do it again — infinite times more if you wish. Pain me. Hurt me. Break my heart all you want — it's all yours, love."

"But for God's sake, [Name]... please don't leave me.

"I can't do that!" You cried. "You don't deserve that."

"And did you deserve receiving unsolicited hate left and right?" One of Ayato's hands left yours and settled on your cheek. "I don't think so, love."

His affection. You missed it.

"That wasn't you though."

"But I caused it."

Your lips parted in an attempt to contradict him, though you stopped at the lack of a witty retort. The man was satisfied at you letting him own up to his fault.

He slowly ran his fingers through your hair. "You should be mad at me."

Furrowed eyebrows were what he saw in return. "Wasn't me leaving you enough? I'm starting to think you're a masochist."

He chuckled.

"Besides, I still stand by what I said." You gave him a stern look. "Why would I be mad at you when you weren't at fault? It was those people, not you, Ayato. You've been nothing but doting and understanding and loving and —"

"It all started with me," he sighed. "I asked you to get into this fake relationship with me. I'm the one who starred in a drama with some actress whose fanbase's toxic portion is very vocal and active. It was I who failed to protect you. It was I who failed you."

Just when you thought it was nearing the end, you felt like tearing up again. Just like he did to you earlier, you rested your face against his shoulder in an attempt to hide yourself.

"No you didn't. You tried."

"It wasn't good enough."

"You did well," you reached out to caress the back of his head as well.

With his snug embrace, the stillness of the wind, and the stroke of sunlight — everything felt warm.

Wait, sunlight?

You swore there was about to be a raging thunderstorm earlier.

From where you were nestling your head earlier, you looked up slightly, just enough to get a glimpse of the skies enveloping the land. From what you saw earlier, it did a total one-eighty.

The sun has now ceased hiding behind the thick clouds.

Gone was the governing gray hue. The clouds, however, lingered. Through them, radiant rays seeped through, illuminating what once was not.

Now, tints of varying colors — mainly blue, lavender, pink, and orange — were present.

"It's pretty," you mumbled.

"You are," he said.

Still with a muffled voice, you spoke, "Are you hitting on me?"

"Is it working?"

You gave him a light smack. He let out a laugh, which distracted you from the noise made by the gate opening.

"I'd hate to interrupt, but..." Both of you turned your heads toward the owner of the voice. "How long exactly am I supposed to just stand outside the gate?"

"Manager!" You screamed, pulling away from your companion. You don't see the way he frowned and pouted, the way his arms reached for you before you started going off to the other person present.

"Manager! You liar!"

"I mean, I told you you were meeting the CEO of Cypressus, didn't I?"

"Oh fuck. I forgot about that! Where is he anyway?"

Your eyes followed your manager's palm, which was now pointing towards a certain blue-haired man. "Over there."

Ayato had to try so hard to stop himself from laughing at your comical expression, lest he invoke your wrath. He'd rather not, really. And shit, you really were a good actress. 'So beautifully expressive, love!' He thought.

"Ayato?!"

"Yes, love?" He smiled sweetly.

You looked at him in disbelief before turning back to your manager. "See? As I was saying before, I told you you were meeting the Cypressus' CEO. And Ayato's the CEO of Cypressus, so, technically... I didn't lie."

You inhaled sharply. You'll deal with him later.

"You locked me in here!"

"No, I didn't. I didn't lock the gate."

You were stupefied. "What?"

"Yeah," she flashed a genuine smile. "If you actually wanted to leave, you could have just pushed the gate open and you would've been out of here in no time. I was even ready to drive you away the minute I see you walk out of here."

"I —"

"You actually wanted to stay with him, didn't you?"

Unbeknownst to you, just like you, Ayato was holding his breath. He was waiting for your answer.

"You know what, you don't even need to answer that," your manager said. You and the man exhaled.

She looked past you, to Ayato, before returning her gaze on you. "Are you feeling better? Are you feeling better with him?"

You hummed. She patted your head. "That's all I wanted to hear."

Your manager turned away, facing the gate. She gave a small wave. "You can keep her. She doesn't have a schedule until next week anyway."

"Manager!"

"But if you dare hurt her, make her feel bad again," she gave one last look, though it wasn't pointed at you. "I swear you'll never be able to get close to her again. Not even hear her voice. Not even touch a strand of her hair."

Ayato shivered. He knew he wouldn't ever dare inflict you pain again, yet he was still frightened by the threat. He wasn't afraid of your manager, no.

He dreaded not being able to be with you again.

"I keep my promises."

The other woman simply hummed and left (not before telling you that she's only one call away should you wish to leave).

"Is that promise to love me?" You went back in front of him, fighting back a smile. "That. And even more, [Name]."

Your almost-smile resulted in a frown, which worried Ayato. Did he do something wrong? Did you perhaps change your mind and wanted to leave with your manager now?

"So..." You trailed off. "CEO, huh?"

"Oh, that." He chuckled nervously. You just raised a brow at him, attempting to intimidate him even more.

Ayato sighed. But then he realized something.

You were taken aback, however, when he immediately flashed you a playful smile, his right arm hovering above his abdomen. He then made a graceful bow.

"I fear I've been less than hospitable to you, my lady, my dearest guest. Would you care to join your business partner inside as we discuss more over tea?"

You raised a brow, slightly questioning whatever this sudden skit is all about. But of course, being the performance arts-inclined person that you are, you decided to go along.

"Gladly, my lord."

You'll never know this, but you almost killed the CEO of Cypressus with mere three words. Those weren't even the three words — the one sentence that everyone thinks of when they hear the phrase — but it still almost ended him nonetheless.

He imagines his impending doom with delight once he finally gets to hear you say the proper three words. He swore he could welcome death with open arms, if that was what it takes.

Ayato wrapped his fingers around yours as he guided you inside. The familiarity of everything calmed your nerves down. The foyer where he and someother helpers welcomed you, the living room where you used to always hang out with him and Ayaka. The visible dining area where you two ate often and sometimes had hotpot nights with his sister. And after that, the clean kitchen counter where Ayato used to always stay as he watched you make something for him.

It felt like home.

"Stay here," he motioned for you to sit on the living room couch. He said he'd make you guys some tea?

He would?

Oh no.

"Wait!" Hurried yet light footsteps can be heard against the hardwood floors. With a slightly disoriented face, Ayato turned his head at your direction. "Is something wrong?"

"Yes. Something is very wrong," you tried to catch your breath. "You're absolutely not making tea. Let me do it."

You knew him well enough to know that he is just physically incapable of concocting something edible at this point. Not even tea. Not even just instant tea.

He'd always find a way to make it suspicious and off-putting.

"But —"

"I know you're very rich, but please don't intentionally destroy your kitchen, 'Yato."

The man in question simply took a deep breath and raised both his hands in the air as a sign of surrender. You then marched into their kitchen as if you own the place, with the real owner trailing behind you like an obedient puppy whose leash you were holding.

When you both walked out of the kitchen, you immediately plopped down into the fluffy couch, while Ayato carefully placed the tray of teas on the table before sitting directly in front of you.

He would've loved to sit beside you, but you sat on a one-seater sofa.

He wasn't sure if that was intentional or not.

On the brighter side, it helped set the mood even better for this 'business meeting' of yours. You as [Name], the renowned actress, and the man across you as Kamisato Ayato, CEO of the famous bubble tea brand, Cypressus.

He took a sip first. "Just so you know, I was serious about getting you as an ambassador and endorser of our company."

You imitated his actions. "Where's the contract?"

"Not yet made."

"Why?"

"I want to make it on your terms." As he let his cup down, the curling of the corners of his lips were visible. "Ask for whatever you want and it shall appear on the contract. Easy as that."

You gave him a feigned frown. "That's not very smart of you, mister."

He merely snickered.

"I am stupid when it comes to you."

Your face flushed.

'The tea. Yeah, it must be from the tea,' you lied to yourself.

"Speaking of business," Ayato attempted to shift the topic. "We have something to take care of."

"Us?" You joked.

He let out a smile. "That too, but..."

"Hm?"

"I was referring to, uh..." His voice trailed off. It seemed like it was a topic he has a hard time talking about.

'Here goes nothing,' he thought.

"Well, what do you want to do about those malicious people online, love?"

"Oh? Knowing you, I thought you'd have done something about that by now," you truthfully said.

Ayato sighed. "Believe me, love. I really wanted to, but..."

"I promised to myself that I won't do anything else without consulting you first."

You couldn't say anything. You couldn't do anything but let his eyes entrance you once more.

You could only hold your breath.

"You know very well that I had to learn the hard way, [Name]." He leaned closer to the table, and by extension, to you as well. "And I'm not willing to go through the torture of losing you again because of that very same mistake."

"I don't want to put you, my love, [Name], the one I hold dearest, through suffering once more because of my faulty decisions."

With his every word, everything came crashing down. You thought about everything all at once, it was overwhelming — the memories, the feelings. The pain and pleasure, the angst and affection.

Swamped by everything, you couldn't help but tear up once more. Looking down was your last resort, attempting to shield him from the fact that you were about to cry for the second time today.

You began to fidget. "It's all me."

"Huh? What are you saying —"

"I was the one that broke us, wasn't I?"

"No." He immediately got up and stood up next to you, who was still sitting. "Shush, love. You didn't break anything."

You felt a hand caress your back. "But I —"

"It was already broken since the beginning."

Through small gaps, you were able to see him now kneeling down in front of you. Ayato started consoling you, his fingers running through strands of your hair and his voice in soft whispers.

"My reasoning was flawed. My methods were foolish... and after I coerced you into that faux relationship, I had the guts to fail you."

His free hand caught yours, followed by him bringing it to his lips. "I didn't get to tell you, to make you feel the truth: that unlike that relationship, my feelings were real from the start."

You stiffened up. Ayato continued, "Because I was a coward. And I am stupid — as you already know."

"Still, despite my imperfections..." The hand previously busy with your hair was suddenly on your chin, his touch as light as a feather. With his help, you managed to finally look at him once more. "I want to ask you an ambitious question —"

He took a deep breath, yet the affection in his eyes remained.

"— Would you accept me? Again? For real this time, [Name]?"

privacy — ayato x reader smau

prev. masterlist. next.

TAGLIST I (closed) @catsrkool @sukunasrealgf @redactedhimbo @layla240 @mxlkytea13 @itsactuallylina @milza12 @aixaingela @tatiratty @kimiesstuff @laventiseriou @kunihaver @bibisbestgirl @lunaavity @coquettemaiden @opchara @slvdsjjk @cotton-eee @lady-elodie @dearxiiao @wheneverthesunrise @heartswonder @chuduchok @headphonesrlif3 @lleoll @vnderthesunn @lizzardlady1234 @nekogakuro @rifran @atlatcaheart @ani-st @creammpuff @lunastarjay @kittycasie @poisoned-candy-apples @zannivrs @b0bafl0wer @moonlightaangel @elsoleil

#privacy smau #ayato x reader #genshin impact #genshin #kamisato ayato #kamisato ayato x reader #genshin smau #ayato smau #aestherin #genshin celebrity au #modern au #genshin modern au

[coconutcordiale]

do not disturb

pairing- jake 'hangman' seresin x female!reader (no use of y/n)

synopsis-

“It’s one hundred degrees in this room,” Hangman defends himself. “I can’t sleep in pants, I’ll die.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, considering just sleeping in the hallway yourself and ending this torture. “Is your penchant for drama genetic? Are your sisters like this too?”

warnings- 18+ only minors DNI, what's a plot never met her, explicit protected piv sex, lil corruption/innocence kink, choking (pls look up the correct way before doing it), hangman's dirty mouth, size kink (if jake doesn't have a big dick I'm staging a revolt), brat tamer hangman if you squint, inexperienced ish reader (tried but I'm a hoe so idk if I managed it), no kink negotiation here (talk to your partners first irl), safewords not explicitly stated but I promise this is consensual af, excessive pet names, exasperated sleepy friends to lovers

length- 4k this was supposed to be like 1k I don't know blame hangman

an- this is just smut w lil fluff sprinkles. i'm a hangman girl (read: I'm obsessed with glen powell) so I felt some type of way about being mean to him in tailspin & that's why this now exists. also idfk what this even is sorry! hope it's not terrible ok ily bye

Technically, it’s the middle of the night. 

That’s why you’re burying homicidal urges when you hear knocking on your hotel room door. 

Urges that increase tenfold when you open it to see Jake Seresin, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly in an old Navy shirt that looks way too soft for your sleep addled brain to deal with right now. 

“Hangman,” you greet drily. “Why the fuck.”

Rubbing sleep from your eyes, you’re not unhappy to see him, per se, but it’s well past acceptable social hours. He’ll have to forgive your less than enthusiastic welcome. Part of you thinks you might still be sleeping.

He at least has the decency to look sheepish for waking you up. Well, about as sheepish as Hangman is capable of looking. “Coyote said he was bringing someone back to our room. Can I crash with you tonight? Everyone else is either hooking up or dead asleep.”

Fucking weddings. 

You narrow your eyes. “What if I have someone here?”

He smirks and you kind of want to slap him. 

A testament to your willpower, you sigh instead, briefly wondering if it’s really that bad to force him to sleep in the hallway, before opening the door and stepping to the side. 

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he drawls, letting you feel the heat of his body as he passes by you, just a touch too close for comfort.

“Cool pjs.” He smirks again, raking his eyes up and down your colorful matching shorts and shirt set. 

“Bite me.”

Hangman smiles good-naturedly causing you to idly wonder if anything has ever bothered him in his entire life. 

“You’re real cute when you’re tired,” he says instead of being offended and now you’re debating if you actually should slap him, or maybe yourself for the way his compliment brings heat to your cheeks. 

“Where’s Phoenix? Thought you were sharing a room with her this weekend.”

Your stomach drops as you consider that Phoenix might be why he came to crash in your room, and you try not to make a face at its betrayal. 

“She’s probably in your room with Coyote,” you deadpan to cover up your discomfort, and then relish in the way his mouth drops open in surprise. “Christ, aren’t you supposed to be smart, Hangman? I’m kidding, she met someone at the reception.”

You know you’re being a little more abrasive with him than normal, but you can’t quite help the jabs that come out when you’re feeling uneasy. 

And Hangman does nothing, if not make you very, very uneasy. Especially like this, with his blonde hair soft and flopping all over his forehead, that old t-shirt clearly having been shrunk in the wash over the years straining across his chest, riding up a little high above his sweatpants. 

The gears are clearly turning in his head, no doubt forming something witty to gain back the slight upper hand you’ve gained in this verbal sparring. 

You should be preparing yourself for whatever he’s about to say that’s sure to make you lose your footing. But he looks like a goddamn sleepwear model like this, mellow and soft and cuddly, eyes drooping a little from tiredness and the whiskey he was sipping on all night, clothes begging to have someone’s hands fisted in them and…okay. Stopping that train of thought right the fuck now.

Nothing but danger lies down that road with a girl like you and a guy like Hangman.

You’re contemplating if you could get away with taking a cold shower when he finally looks around your room, its distinct lack of two beds apparently killing whatever comeback he had on the tip of his tongue. 

“I can sleep on the floor.” He’s rubbing the back of his neck again and his uncharacteristic awkwardness is starting to make your skin itch. 

Message received, Hangman. We both know I’m not your type.

You’ve seen the girls he usually goes home with. Even if every single one of them wasn’t annoyingly beautiful, you already know where you stand with him. For all intents and purposes, you’re just another one of the guys. Sure, you don’t take a different conquest home every other night like the rest of them, but you banter and compete with them like buddies. 

And since you and Hangman are just buddies, you roll your eyes for appearances. “Just get in the bed, Seresin. It’s huge, I’m not going to make you sleep on the floor.”

He shrugs, like he’s giving himself credit for his half-assed offer and goes to pull his sweatpants off. You give him a withering look of disbelief, studiously avoiding looking at the way his boxers stretch over his muscular thighs. 

“It’s one hundred degrees in this room,” Hangman defends himself. “I can’t sleep in pants, I’ll die.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, considering just sleeping in the hallway yourself and ending this torture. “Is your penchant for drama genetic? Are your sisters like this too?”

He just gives you a dazzling smile in response, and you spin away from him before everything inside you melts. 

Turning the thermostat down, you shoot an evident you’re welcome stare in his direction, but his sweatpants remain in their place on the floor. He’s laid out on the bed, all tanned skin and muscle, arms crossed behind his head in a way that’s surely meant to draw your attention straight to his biceps. 

Deep breath, you tell yourself. You can do this, just lay down on the other side and don’t be weird. 

You get in and pull the covers tight, hoping the shiver that runs through you as the air conditioning kicks on isn’t noticeable. 

“And I’m dramatic,” Jake huffs, getting under the blanket and rolling closer to you. You tense, merely out of reflex and a frown creases his eyebrows almost imperceptibly before he gets comfortable on his side, pulls you into his arms. “Relax, sugar. Just trying to keep you warm, since you’re always so cold. Been told I’m like a furnace.”

By who?  You want to snap at him, but instead you swallow the words and lean into his chest. He really is warm. 

“Would never do anything you don’t want me to,” he mumbles, but there’s a trace of a chuckle in his voice that feels like he’s making fun of you.

Mocking aside, that's definitely true.

You'd never expect him to do any of the things you want him to, either. There's a reason your apprehension stems from you crossing some sort of invisible line with him in your bed and not vice versa.

"I know," you whisper, not trusting yourself to say much else without divulging all the thoughts about him you've buried deep under your comforter at home.

“How come you didn’t ask anyone else to come up and keep you warm?” Jake teases, after a few moments of silence where you were busy focusing on the whirr of the air conditioner and trying to ignore your pounding heart. 

You squint, still kind of wondering if he can feel your pulse racing. 

“The curly haired guy, from the wedding,” he supplies helpfully to answer your confused expression.

Oh. You’re surprised Jake noticed you talking to him at all. “It’s not like I wanted to sleep with him. We were just chatting.” 

“Well, he definitely wanted to.” You’d love to imagine there’s a hint of bitterness in his tone, but you know that’s just wishful thinking.

“That’s not really my thing,” you say quietly, as if he doesn’t already know. He knew enough to know you wouldn’t have anyone up here with you, after all.

It’s so much easier, laying here in the dark, not having to meet his beautiful green eyes, to be honest. All your jabs having melted into smooth, silky edges at the warmth of his body.

There’s a playful lilt to Jake’s voice again. “Sex?”

You smack him lightly on the chest. “One-night stands. I can never get comfortable enough with a stranger to have a good time, things are just better for me when it’s more involved.”

When there’s feelings, you don’t say, because you’re pretty sure he can put two and two together without you having to spell it out.

You still kind of wish you hadn’t said anything, are kicking yourself for admitting that out loud when he cuts through the anxiety of your internal monologue.

“Nothing wrong with knowing what you want, darlin’.”

“It sucks sometimes,” you admit. “It can be a little lonely.”

“Better than being with the wrong person if it’s just going to make you feel bad.”

Part of you wants to roll your eyes and scoff at him, as if Casanova Jake Seresin has any idea what that feels like, but he’s rubbing small, comforting circles in between your shoulder blades and it’s short-circuiting your brain. You find yourself running your fingers up his spine instead, playing with the soft threads of his t-shirt like you’ve wanted to since the moment you saw him at your door tonight.

“Feels nice,” he comments, pulling you in closer.

Spurred on by his praise you keep going, wandering down his back to where his shirt rides up. You look down and see that little strip of blonde hair that disappears into the waistband of his boxers, slung low enough that you can see that stupid Adonis belt on his abs. Your hand moves to the front of him of its own accord, tracing the ridges there, brushing dangerously close to the strip of elastic at the top.

Jake’s arm pops up so he can support his head with his hand, looking down at you imploringly. “What’re you playing at, sugar?”

You take your hand back like it’s been burned, cheeks suddenly hot as you realize you’d gotten carried away. “I’m sorry, I just—I didn’t think about what I was doing. Got distracted.”

He’s definitely smirking, you can practically feel it in the air above you, but you’re sure as hell not going to look up and see that self-important grin for yourself.

He pulls your fingers back to his stomach, and you can’t help but immediately brush them over his happy trail. The dusting of blonde hair surprises you a little, having expected Hangman to be too vain to leave any hair around that might distract from his physique.

You’re silently wondering if he has any hair on his chest when he catches a finger under your chin, forcing you to look up at him. You see his green eyes darkened, studying your face for something. You’re not entirely sure what.

Apparently finding what they’re looking for his expression softens, the hand supporting his head going to brush hair away from your face and you break eye contact, feeling small under his undivided attention. His fingers hover for a second, like he wants to do something more, but go to rest on your pillow instead.

“Thought that I had you pegged wrong all along for a second there, using lines to get in my pants. That’s not really my thing,” he mimics, smile twitching at the edges of his lips.

“Oh, I’m—Jake, I’m not—” you stutter, certain you must be bright red now. Your fingers are playing with the hem of his t-shirt, nervous and fidgety energy working to get released.

I’m not like this, you want to say. I’m not like you.

He exhales audibly, looking down at you, at the cherry blooming on your cheeks, at where your dainty fingers pluck at his shirt. His hand clenches once in the pillow above your head, knuckles practically white, before releasing.

“I know, sweets, was only joking. Fuck, I get that you’re a good girl,” he breathes, strained like he’s barely holding it together. “S’why I always want to ruin you.”

What.

Everything inside your mind shuts off.

All you can hear is the humming of the air conditioner, the slow intake of air into his lungs. Something inside you clenches.

You’re fairly certain a sound that closely resembles a whimper breaks from your throat, but you can’t know for sure, since all thoughts have been erased from your brain.

You hear him suck in a sharp breath, breathing in and out evenly for a couple seconds, regaining control, before he speaks again. “Sorry, sweetheart. Shouldn’t have said that. I won’t, told you I’d never do anything you don’t want.”

You already know that. That’s not the problem. The problem is how many nights you’ve already spent wishing his fingers were on you instead of your own. How many nights you've spent biting back his name, too embarrassed to let your lips form the syllables of someone who you were certain didn’t want you.

Now, though, those walls of certainty seem to be crumbling at every edge. 

“What if I want you to?” You ask quietly, barely above a whisper. It almost gets stuck in your throat, but you force your lips to form those words and let them leave your lungs.

Jake’s entire body goes tense.

But then he rolls over, putting you on your back and caging you in with his arms.

“You mean that?” He’s looking at you intensely, so intensely you might be frightened if you weren’t distracted by the weight of him on top of you, by every single scorching point of contact between you. 

All you can manage is a nod, eyes starting to glaze over as he fills every inch of your vision.

He chuckles. “Guess that’s a yes.”

Jake ducks his head to kiss you, it’s sweet, sweeter than you ever would’ve expected from him. Sweeter than you thought it would be when you were hiding beneath the sheets in your bed, with your fingers on your clit, choking back his name. 

But then he slides his tongue past your lips, deepening the kiss as he tangles a hand in your hair, tugging hard enough to make you moan straight into his mouth. His lips move down to ghost over your neck, across your jaw. 

And suddenly his words are hot in your ear. “What do you want, sweetheart? Want me to ruin you? Tell you about all the times I’ve thought about taking you apart?”

Your thighs clench together, heat blooming in your stomach and you notice, all at once, how wet you really are, slick pooling between your thighs under the wispy material of your sleep shorts. 

You open your mouth to say yes, desperately trying to find your voice, to find your familiar jabs so you can go toe to toe with him like normal, but all that comes out is a squeak. 

His hand stops at your neck, just briefly, thumb rubbing on your pulse point. And it turns every last bit of you in you to sweet, sticky, melting caramel. Your breath hitches, you suck your bottom lip between your teeth, holding back a whimper.

He’s not even doing anything, not really, but your mind immediately latches onto what he could be.

Jake’s eyes go wide for just a second before something wicked glints in the thin ring of green left.

“Thought you were so fucking innocent,” he grunts, running his thumb from your pulse point to your jaw and back again. You bring your hands to his, pulling him closer, silently asking him to press down.

You open your mouth to respond, but you don’t know how to explain. You may not do this kind of thing a lot, but you know what you like. Your imagination has certainly run wild enough times.

But any words that might’ve been readying themselves to leave your lips wither into nothing the moment he squeezes your neck.

“Jake,” you gasp, words breathy underneath the fingers around your throat. “Jake, I…”

“Hmm, what’s that, sweetheart?” His hand relents a little so you can answer, but you immediately wish he’d tighten his hold again.

“Yes, Jake,” you whine. “I want you to ruin me.”

And you don’t know what’s come over you, if you were even an ounce more present in your own body you’d probably be embarrassed.

But Jake’s head drops next to his hand at the crook of your neck, and he makes a strangled noise, the moan reverberating through your skin. 

“Jesus,” he mutters against you. “Trying to kill me, sugar?”

You don’t have an answer for that because you’re not trying to do anything, you just want more.

Your fingers are still grasping his hand, the one still around your neck, tightly, like you’re scared he’ll pull it away, leave you to drift without his grip to ground you, to remind you this moment is real. It’s actually happening. 

He lifts his head up to latch his mouth onto yours again and it’s heavier, so much more desperate than before. You whine into him as he slides his hands down your body, pushing up your shirt and you want to laugh at the absurdity of it, that you’re more turned on than you’ve ever been in your entire life and you’re both still fully clothed. 

He peels your shirt up and over your head, letting out another obscene groan at the sight of your bare chest. 

“Fucking perfect,” he murmurs. 

You fist your hands in his shirt in answer, tugging upwards, figuring fair is fair. You’re trying hard not to blush, not to show how his approval makes you light and fuzzy. He grins and sits back on his knees, pulling his shirt up and over his head, ruffling his floppy hair in the process. 

Lips parting unconsciously, your tongue flicks out to wet them. You knew he was built, but it’s overwhelming, really, to have all that tan skin on display just inches from your face. You get to run your hands up the length of his entire chest now though, leaning up so your fingers can dance through the tuft of blonde hair near the top.

Jake pushes you down on your back, firm, into the pillows. Smiling deviously when you pout and immediately clench your fingers in the sheets beside you, when your thighs press together, seeking some sort of relief to the ache between them. The seam of your shorts presses just right against your center, and you let your head fall back with a soft moan. 

Something akin to dangerous flashes in Jake’s eyes, as he hooks his fingers in your shorts, pulling down in one swift motion and tossing them off the bed before you can gain any more pleasure from the thin material. He pushes your legs apart and groans at the sight of you, glistening wet for him. “God, sweetheart, look at you.”

Just when you think you might die if he doesn’t put his hands on you, if he doesn’t touch you, if he just keeps looking at you like that, like he wants to devour you; he swipes a finger up your slit, tip pressing lightly, teasingly against your bundle of nerves. It’s too much, but not enough all at the same time. He slides a finger in, curling it exactly right on the first try and you can’t help but keen, throwing your head back into the pillows.  

He sucks in a sharp breath at your reaction, eyelids going heavy as he presses rough figure eights on your clit. “Want to get my mouth on you, get my tongue inside that gorgeous pussy, but I can’t wait, darlin’, been thinking about this for too long.” 

Warmth blooms in your chest at the realization he might’ve imagined this even half as much as you have. You’re sure you’re smiling like an idiot. 

Reaching down to the pocket of his sweatpants, he pulls a condom out of his wallet, and you want to tease him, presumptuous much? But any semblance of thought goes out the window when he pulls his boxers down, hard cock slapping against his stomach. Your mouth is suddenly, immediately sandpaper dry. 

Fuck.

Of course he’s huge. No one with an ego as colossal as his doesn’t have a reason, or several to back it up.

You don’t even hear yourself saying it out loud, don’t even realize the curses forming on your tongue, until he grins, eyebrow raised, chest puffed out in pride. “Think you can handle me, sweetheart?”

It takes you a few moments to answer, to figure out that you should answer, since you’re transfixed on him, on the strong fingers rolling the condom onto his length. If you had any sense of self-preservation at all you might be genuinely worried about his question, about not being able to walk tomorrow. 

Hopefully you don’t sound as winded as you feel when you tell him to shut the fuck up. 

Before you can bother with any stupid survival instincts, you’re pulling him down on top of you, wrapping your legs around his waist, savoring the grunt it draws from him as his tip reaches your folds.

“Love it when you’re mouthy, darlin’, nice little challenge for me,” he promises, before pushing himself inside of you. 

He goes slow, tortuously slow, and you screw your eyes shut tight as your walls flutter trying to adjust to him. You don’t notice you’re on the verge of a sob until he brushes your hair back from your sweaty forehead. “Just a little more, sweetheart, you can take it.”

The stretch of him seems to go on forever, just on this side of agonizing, but way too good for you to care about the pain, too good to be real and you can barely focus on anything else. Can barely hear Jake’s molten honey voice repeating a slew of continuous praises in your ear, can barely register the weight of his body covering every inch of you. 

Any moment now you’ll wake up in your bed at home, covered in sweat, grinding into your bed, achingly alone. You’re almost certain of it.  

But then you feel his lips on yours again, hand holding your cheek, gentle, affectionate as he bottoms out. When he finally moves, the heavy, slick pull of him in and out of you reminds you that you’re here. 

You don’t even recognize yourself, mewling, long string of unintelligible noises tumbling from your lips. 

Jake practically preens. “Where’d my feisty little brat go? That all it takes to shut you up, sugar?”

You can only hope those were rhetorical questions because he’s hiking your legs over his shoulders, picking up the pace, new angle hitting that spot deep inside you again and again, and you can’t form a single thought, let alone words. 

Jake’s fingers find your center again and press against your clit in heavy, decisive circles, winding that coil in you tighter and tighter. 

“So close,” you whimper, fingers tearing at the bedsheets.

He smirks. 

“Did I say you could come, sweetheart?”

Your jaw drops in surprise, eyes rolling back and ears ringing, mind engulfed in the heat burning in your belly. 

He’s still grinning smugly as one of those large hands comes back to your neck. 

You whine, high-pitched and breathless, eyes fluttering closed, gripping the hand around your neck as he applies pressure, desperate for something to hold onto, and you think you’re trying to form words, some of them may even be making it out of your mouth, something along the lines of please please please, let me come, Jake, I can’t, JakeJakeJakeJake…

“So pretty all fucked out like this, stretched around my cock.” His gaze is fixed on where he’s plunging in and out of you, tone almost reverent. “It’s okay, sweetheart, come for me, wanna feel you, want…”

You don’t hear the rest because you’re focused on where his fingers dig into the sides of your neck, tipping over the edge, string of lights inside of you tangled and blowing a fuse. Everything bursts all at once and you’re clutching Jake’s arms so hard you’re positive you’re leaving marks, but it doesn’t matter, you don’t care because you’re in a free fall, toes curling in bliss. 

When you come to, you’re just barely aware of his pace growing erratic, hand on your throat loosening as it goes to brush your sweaty hair back from your forehead. His thrusts are getting shallower, mouth spewing a litany of jumbled praises so tight, so wet, so perfect baby, when suddenly he’s arching over you, hands tight on your hips as he empties into the condom. 

You’re not sure you’re still functioning. You’re not sure you’ll ever move again. You’re pretty sure you’ll ever have a coherent thought again.

Distantly you can hear his heavy breathing, feel his weight on top of you but you don’t fully register it. 

“Sweetheart?” He asks when you’ve been silent for minutes, or maybe hours, who knows. 

You look up at him, blinking slowly, eyelids made of lead, vision unfocused.

Jake grins, and it's almost boyish. It's annoyingly cute. “That good?” 

That cuts through the haze enough that you kind of want to slap him, for the arrogance littering those three little words. Or yourself, for helping his ego grow any bigger. 

As it stands, you’re too dazed to actually do either. You nod, silently burrowing your face into his neck. He chuckles again, and you decide maybe you don’t hate that teasing sound that much, maybe you’ll spend your days trying to elicit it from him as often as possible. You’re still thinking about it when he peels himself off you to clean you both up. 

When he settles back down, he pulls you in tight, curls around you in a way that should be uncomfortable, like he’d crawl inside your skin if he could. 

+

Jake is still glued to you when you wake up in the morning, and your heart clenches too affectionately to be irritated by the fact that you can’t really move. Or breathe. 

But you take one look at the smirk on his face, the mischievous glimmer that seems to linger even in his sleep and the butterflies in your stomach turn to stone.

You don’t think he’s that much of an asshole, you’re pretty sure the bravado is all a front. That he wouldn’t do something like this, knowing how you operate, without any intention of moving forward, but the anxiety still thrums incessantly beneath your ribcage.

You’re lost inside your own head, fighting the panic rising in your chest when he yawns, rubbing his eyes before tucking himself back into your side, impossibly closer.  

“Guess that fifty bucks I gave Phoenix to find somewhere else to stay was a steal,” he mumbles, fingers dancing across your bare skin. 

It’s his turn to pat himself on the back as your mouth drops open in shock. 

Jake grins, eyes sparkling as he presses a kiss into your hair. “Good luck getting rid of me now.”

#jake hangman seresin #hangman x reader #hangman x you #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x reader #hangman smut #hangman top gun #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin smut #jake seresin fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfic

[togglesbloggle]

In Defense of Bad Things

'Bad' here meaning mostly 'amateur'; stuff made enthusiastically by people at an unprofessional level. Art with visible gaps between what the artist imagined and what they achieved, products of flawed craftsmanship. I suppose everybody can appreciate them to some extent, it's a rare parent that doesn't put up their kid's drawings on the fridge in one way or another. But it turns out to be a fully general skill you can cultivate, and the more I do, the more I'm glad I did.

Partly, it's the teacher thing; finding delight in amateur work is one of the ways to find delight in the process of learning. Cultivating a love of striving-qua-striving can help make you a force for good in the world, as people start to feel safe trying to do things when you're around, even when their efforts are wobbly. You get to participate a little more in the process of atoms spinning themselves into ideas, even when there aren't any illusions about whether you're helping cultivate some revolutionary genius in the field.

And partly it's a fabulous way to build community. By necessity, our professional-level skills tend to be at the service of other people, performed for economic benefit; that's kind of how you get professionally good at something in the first place. When we're acting for our own sake, and among friends, most of what we do with one another is amateurish. I only cook middling-okay, I can't hold a tune that well, I'll never be a speed runner for anything. If you can only enjoy singing from the hundred best singers in the whole world, manufactured and polished by major studios, then you and your friends will sit shoulder-to-shoulder and passively listen to music. But it's so much richer an experience to sit face-to-face, actually singing together, even badly; you expose yourself to so many new ways to appreciate and respect one another, building relationships on what you've accomplished and not just by witty criticism or liking the same things.

And partly it's because some of the most powerful and innovative artistic experiences are in high-churn environments with low expectations and low barriers to entry, if only because those catch the passionate and driven young people that have been otherwise overlooked by our systems. The golden age of webcomics meant that a ton of the actual art involved was pretty lousy, but it also produced work that people still talk about today. D&D began as a profoundly unpolished collection of handmade rulebooks sold at cons in a plastic baggie. By the time these products of enthusiastic amateurs filter themselves through various levels of popularity and absorb mainstream cash influx, they're often risk-averse and missing a lot of the bold spark that inspired their fans in the first place; others will simply never drift towards the mainstream at all. I'm not saying you should be the person who goes out to dig through the slush piles of the internet looking for overlooked art, unless you want to be-- but sometimes a work of actual staggering genius also happens to be a Supernatural fanfic by a first-time author who's a little hazy on commas, and if that's a dealbreaker, you're going to miss out on some profoundly valuable experiences.

And hiding behind all of these things is, like...

Our appreciation of beauty has an odd structure, right? When things are done very skillfully, by brilliant artists with years of training, we can usually appreciate those accomplishments. And when we're looking at nature without human influence, and especially when we think very deeply about natural processes and understand them in context, we often rediscover that sense of beauty. There's just this bizarre hole in the middle where we declare things 'ugly'; as if a little skill is worse than none at all.

I really don't trust that gap. It feels like a trick my brain is playing on me, you know? It has me suspicious that a lot of what I consider 'ugly' or 'bad' is not a very direct experience of the world at all, or an informed judgment. That it is, rather, a declaration of (self-, social-) identity; a desire to be seen as a person of good taste, or as somebody who does things well, or just more primitively as one of the monkeys who is in the good-stuff-tribe and not one of the monkeys who is in the bad-stuff-tribe.

[zhongrin]

| ◆ ch. vago mundo ⑊ zhongli

--⟢ ii. little dragon, big dragon |   teyvat continues to change, and nobody can stop it. but morax hopes that some things stay unchanged.

𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑚𝑎𝑖𝑛 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

◇ tags ◇ fluff, rex lapis in the olden days is a (lovable) menace

◇ a/n ◇ everyone shush and hear me out!!!!!!! smol dragon!zhongli draped around your neck and purring like a cat. that's it that's the post.

"is that…"

"that improper animal… this new generation of disciples are just too full of themselves."

"the divine one is just far too lenient… i fear the young ones will continuously abuse their kindness."

rex lapis squints his eyes towards the whispers of the less fortunate souls, inwardly scoffing at the open jealousy in their words. it's your gentle touch that pulls him out of his musings, and he lightly cranes his eyes up to stare at your visage.

"this is quite a commendable feat, rex. to have such precise control over your physique… keep this up and you might even become an archon one day," you chuckle, fingers lightly tracing the small horns on the sides of his compact-sized dragon form.

he's unable to stop the instinctive purrs which are reverberating from the back of his throat, amber eyes closing in bliss as you let him curl even closer around your neck, though he takes extra care so his scales won't hurt you in the process.

"you know, a friend of yours came to find me the other day. guizhong, i think was her name? she told me about your… excursions."

the low purring immediately stops, and you hold back a laugh when you feel the little dragon shift uneasily around you.

"were those glaze lilies you gave me the other day from guizhong's little garden after all, hmm?"

".... maybe."

"oh, rex… you know how much she adores them."

"but you said you liked them the last time she showed you…"

"i do, but that doesn't mean you can filch them off guizhong's garden."

"but- she stole my treasures to give you those earrings last time, so now we're even!"

you had to laugh at that. the petty little squabbles from the younger acolytes are always one of your constant sources of entertainment, and this one is no different. you find the dynamics of this particular group amusing, and you can't deny that you might be a little biased when it comes to them. especially to the little dragon. he's witty and a little cheeky, just like all the hatchlings, but something tells you that he'll grow into an individual to be feared if he gains enough wisdom over the few hundred - or thousand, years.

you can only hope you'll be there to witness it when the time comes.

"i suppose, little wyrmling."

rex huffs, tail flopping back to your shoulder, snuggling closer around your neck.

"you didn't have to do all that, you know. i think they deserve to be angry."

morax shakes his head stubbornly as he closes the door of your bedroom behind the two of you. his hand lands on the small of your back and he leads you further into the room.

"while i have seen you making many mistakes throughout the olden times, i know you will always strive to do what you can to make up for it. i would never wish for dominion, but as long as i walk upon teyvat, there shall be no being who gets away with besmirching your name. and especially not in the nation i've cultivated to honor your very being."

you sigh at his tenacity and turn to face him instead, resting your hands on his chest and giving him your best patient smile. the hard lines on his expression smooth out, and you can feel him relax under your touch. soon enough his own hands fall back onto your waist, this time softly palming the sides of your hips, like a kitten making biscuits.

"though i'm honored, i think it's rather petty of you to go to such lengths when all they did was gossip… people have been working hard to rebuild the houses, right? an earthquake is just going to render their efforts useless…"

"ahem…. i'll admit that it wasn't my intention to react in such an… overly dramatic manner. it is my mistake. i realize now that i should have controlled myself better."

"oh, morax… this childish side of yours truly amuses me sometimes," you giggle when you sighted the reddened tips of his ears and the way he's lightly chewing his bottom lip in guilt.

sometimes you still can't believe that the rex lapis himself could be so… adorable.

"okay, enough of that! creator worship time is over! i want my dearest zhongli now, please?"

he perks up at your wish and you step back to watch him shift into his mortal form. it takes him a short few seconds, but it always fascinates you, the way he manages to do it so elegantly and the magical way his body transforms into a familiar appearance.

slender fingers absent of talons reach out towards you, and you meet him halfway, fingers interlacing as you nuzzle into his chest with a satisfied hum. zhongli's deep chuckle caresses your ears and he maneuvers the both of you towards the nearby armchair. but before he can sit down and pull you on top of him, an idea hits you and you pull away slightly to tug on his clothes.

"can i play with your hair?"

"it would be my pleasure, dear."

with a pleased grin, you grab the various cushions and blankets from the couches nearby, making a small nest-like surface on the floor instead. zhongli sits cross-legged on it as soon as you plop onto the higher chair right behind the small area you've made for him, and your fingers automatically tug off the hairpin that holds his hair down his back. you unconsciously hum a tune of ancient lullabies as you continue on to play with his long strands of brown-gold hair, and the god of contracts lets himself melt onto your hold with a contented sigh.

thousands of years may have passed, and you might have lost the memories of your olden days with him forever.

yet, as you continue to spoil him with your sweet words and comforting presence, he realizes that your love for teyvat, for him, no matter which forms and the identity he takes, has stayed true and strong even without those memories.

and zhongli realizes that it's all he could ever ask for.

© zhongrin | 2023 ◆ no repost. reblogs much appreciated. feel free to reach out to submit suggestions, feedback, comments, or if you just want to talk!

◇ taglist ◇ @genshinparty | @abyssmal-skies | @hamdehlesmis | @depressivecomforts | @sophiethewitch1 | @why-am-i-here-someone-save-me | @sunnshineflxwer | @heartonthemoon | @yuutasbabe | @percyval-archives | @carbs-need-more-love | @rebeccka | @queen-belial | @stygianoir | @silentmoths | @niktwazny303 | @dustofthedailylife | @herdrops | @diebischesther | @marina-and-the-memes | @angryhope | @mixed-kester | @shuangxo | @fiannee | @lordbugs | @anonymousficreader | @shizunxie | @ladylofspades | @sup-zfam | @ansy-tea | @irethepotato | @nachotrash | @algrimmammon | @sassy-cat-in-town | @syrenkitsune | @smokipoki | @pvbbyb0y | @shipperxchaos | @crystalflygeo | @n3r0-1417 | @ciexuvia

#astronetwrk #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #rin writes #zhongli #zhongli x reader #universe abound

[writting-for-a-chain-of-heros]

I have to ask the question of:

Cuddle headcanons you can pick the links.

Cuddling with Time,Hyrule and Legend

Hyrule

He is the worst cuddler you'll ever meet in your life

This man doesn't know how to cuddle

PLZ SEND HELP

He's never had much positive physical interactions and he's socially stunted due to his isolating environment

When the closest thing you've had to cuddling were cult members holding you down trying to sacrifice you for their leader, you tend to not be all that great with touching in general.

This guy is awkward as awkward gets with just hand holding let alone cuddling

He'll be stiff as a board just kinda laying there letting you do your thing when you first try to cuddle him

He doesn't know what to do with his hands so he keeps them at the side but he'll occasionally bring them up to give you a few pats.

.......

It's completely awkward and silent

It feels like your hugging a manikin more than cuddling with a person

He's just looking straight up while you're laying on top of him & he's just trying he's hardest to learn to relax into it but he's just not.

He just isn't, I am sorry

He'll start overthinking the whole time he's trying to figure out how to do it

He might be sweating a bit 

Oh hylia, is he sweating?

Is he supposed to sweat? 

Is that normal during cuddles? 

But it's only been 1 minute 30 seconds in, oh shit does he smell now? I mean he always kinda smells but he doesn't want to be THAT smelly, wait what if you're just putting up with his bad BO this whole time and you're suffocating now

Wait no he took a bath in the creek two hours ago or was it two weeks ago?? Oh hylia suddenly he can't remember??

Wait, is he suffocating you? What if you're already passed out? Why aren't you moving? Why aren't you making any noise?? Hold on, is it supposed to be this awkward? Is it supposed to be this quiet??? Can people die from bad  BO?Maybe he should just end thi-

And then he feels you shift in your position and suddenly you're both on your sides as you guide his arms around your shoulders then moved yours to wrap around his abdomen 

Oh

Oh this is different

And suddenly he relaxes a bit and leans in with his chin resting on the top of your head

This isn't so bad

As he breathes in inhaling your scent he allows his arms to wrap around you gently

“I'm not suffocating you right?” He asks

“no, you're not” you tell him as you lean in closer to him snuggling into his arms

“You smell nice by the way” you whisper to him

His body goes laxed into your embrace as a small smile creeps up on his face

It'll take him a while to get use to this but if you're patient enough he'll get there

…

......

...........

Eventually 

Legend

No 

Absolutely not

He doesn't do cuddles

He doesn't do hugs or any touchy feely stuff with anyone really 

Don't even think about touching him if he doesn't know you or you aren't close and even then that's still a shot in the dark to even think he'll open up to the idea of cuddles 

He used to be a lot more open about physical affection in the past before life beat him into being a prickly jerk, but now? You'll have to catch him dead before he's shown being sugary sweet to anyone in a 100yrd radius

You would have to be someone who's REALLY special to legend or a very young child since he has a soft spot for kids but even then that's still a maybe 

It's not that he doesn't want to be affectionate it's just he has his own way of showing he cares without getting mushy & that usually involves sarcastic comments or witty banter

A lot of nudges with his elbow, an arm over your neck & shoulders,some pats on the back or maybe a slight playful punch is what you're really all going to get out of Legend 

He's built up a big hardened shell around him & physical intimacy just kinda breaks it all down leaving him exposed 

He doesn't like feeling vulnerable and exposed 

So he avoids it like the plague

He sees his vulnerability as a weakness and is disgusted by it to the core so he stuffs it away where no one can find it

But he's a complete tsundere & secretly wants it but at the same time doesn't want to get it

So if you want to cuddle with him you'll have to be someone he feels he can trust with everything that he is

You're going to have to slowly build you're way up before you start cuddling with him 

You start off with hand brushes, light shoulder pats, a hand on his forearm when your leading him somewhere

Move your hands down to holding his fingers,not exactly holding his hand but the touch is enough get him use to your hold before moving to hold his palms then the next thing you know you're holding hands with legend without much protest

You'll have to keep up that steady rhythm before you get to the cuddling stage

All while this is happening he lets you do it & he doesn't realize just how touch starved he is for more

He's a bit stiff and awkward once you do cuddle for the first time, he's not as bad as Hyrule but it's been a LOOOONG time since he's been this intimate with anyone in years.

He'll be tense at first but after a few minutes he leans into it as you both hold each other close while cuddling

His face might blush a bit at how close you're being but he's absolutely smiling softly like an idiot during the whole ordeal

Don't make fun or tease him about it if this is your first because he WILL get up & leave

Don't test him

I am serious

It feels soft & warm while your holding him

His head is resting on your chest listening to your heartbeat as you play with his hair

His eyes lull a bit and he feels at peace, like he's relaxing a muscle he's been tensing this entire time.

“I'll kill you if you tell anyone about this” he says but his soft tone of speaking betrays his attempt at sounding threatening

All you do is give a slight hum of agreement to him not paying any mind as you continue to stroke his hair by the fire at the cabin inn.

Time

It's uncomfortably comfortable when your cuddling with Time with his armor

Despite the cold metallic pokes against your skin as you’re resting against his chest this wasn't all that bad

Time a pretty reserved person when it comes to physical affection which only gets shown to people he sees as family or mange to warm their way into his heart

You’d have to be someone really high on his list of love ones to get accesses to cuddle privileges from

He usually tends to keep his arms to himself with only a small burst of physical affection occasionally when the moment called for it and even then it's limited to a select few

He’s not as rigid or stiff as you’d expect him to be due to his stoic demeanor while cuddling

In fact he's actually surprisingly good at this whole cuddling business then maybe even you

He grew up in a forest full of children and Malon where hugging and cuddling was very the norm

Despite his dark past and somewhat limited experience with affection he’s still always been someone who’s had a knack for being comforting when the moment is needed

When he takes his armor off the cuddling experience gose from a 6/10 to a 100/10

But you only get Time without his armor cuddles at night,early mornings or when your resting in a town

If you want cuddles suddenly throughout the day you’re going to have to deal with cold edgy metal against your face, Hylia forbid the summer sun hits and the metal is burning against your skin

If anyone at all tries to make any snide remarks about your cuddling he’s shutting it down in half a second

It will be a cold day in hell before he allows someone to embarrass you or him out of your special time together

He can be a bit goofy while cuddling,it's the only few times he’s got his guard down and just relaxes

He’ll poke and tickle your sides to make you laugh, this sometimes devolves from cuddling into a semi wrestling tickle fight

If your someone he’s got a bit of a romantic interest in, he’ll sometimes lightly blow a breath behind your ear and tease you a bit to get you flustered but won't go too far if he’s making you uncomfortable

After all he’s a menace not a creep

He’ll rub small circles on your lower and upper back while your resting your head against his chest 

You'll feel his strong fingers press into the knots and a few satisfying pops can be heard

He does this throughout your spine & you feel your muscles ease against his touches

It doesn't matter how long the cuddle session is or how in shape you are, as soon as it's over your back always feels 10x better than it did before you came

You swear he’s using magic but it's just a few tricks he’s learned in his travels to help with his own back issues

His favorite positions are any where he has you under him or against his chest

He likes the feeling of being able to survey you as it feeds into his protective habits

If you fall asleep while cuddling that's all the better because it shows you trust him enough to watch over you and you feel comfortable enough to feel at ease in his embrace

Unfortunately cuddling with time is far and few, he’s a busy guy having to take care of a group of rowdy adventurers so any intimate one on one time has to wait in the back burner until the right moment arrives

So any cuddle time you get is spent in 20 minutes to an hour,maybe half a day if a miracle like that somehow happens 

Treasure the seconds you have with him because once it's over you're not going to know if you'll get it back again in 40 minutes or 40 days later

#lu hyrule #linked universe x reader #linked universe #lu legend #lu time #fluff #ask #headcanons

[normal-internet-user]

Sooooooooooooo~~~ I've got more DC brainworms. I have come to share. 🤲🏼

Picture this, wildflower. *throws arm around your shoulder, gestures to the empty space in front of us, envisioning* A young (eventual) bat!sibbie reader who has a very similar essence to Jason.

and I mean....... literally. a mini Jason. lmaooo listenlistenlisten — yn is a scrappy, free-spirited orphan who comes from the slums of Gotham; they've been here a while, only giving a noncommittal shrug and wry smile when inquired about any of it. same story for a lot of us 'round here.

—and wouldn't it just be hilarious if they came into the Batfam the same way Jase did? By STEALING 👏🏼 HUBCAPS. 👏🏼

except it don't gotta be hubcaps, yn is a ✨professional✨ and a 🔥savage🔥 and just straight up carjacked the Batmobile LMALAOAOAOO (they earn Jason's utmost respect right off the bat [BAT PUN 🦇]; Steph, Dick, and Duke are the runner-ups). Bruce probably gains a new neck vein but he'd be lying if he said he wasn't intrigued!

thennnnn you muck up when you give the slightest inclination that you know his secret identity bcz it'd be significantly more terrifying (read: hilarious) than if you were to fall victim to the cliche 'i saw something i wasn't supposed to and now I'm being taken hostage by these randos in masks and oh holy smokes it's actually multi-billionaire airhead himbo Bruce Wayne!? and his KIDS!!??'

time skip because seamless transition, bing bada boom, they're Bruce's newest ward and filling the tabloids. while it may be a hot story that the entirety of the paparazzi froth at the mouths at, it's a different story behind the scenes.

reader has a sweet, dear personality at the core, but they put up a detached front; if anything, their crude humor and witty deadpan sarcasm attests to their harsh emotional walls put up.

it's nothing personal to these guys, they're just... constantly in self-perservation mode. they ain't never had nobody like this before, 'cept for their fellow street rat friends who're like family.....

I imagine those walls get worn down by Jason the most.

I also imagine Jason would be.... angry?? not at you!! never at you — if anything he'd probably steal you away from Bruce every chance he gets because he's scared you'll be readily thrusted into an unwitting role as a cowl-donner — but at Bruce's initial and seemingly impulsive decision to take you in- because of just how fast everything moved. he was a bit withdrawn at first, but he became undeniably protective over you as time went on.

you appreciate this earnestly; one day on your outings with Jason, he passes by the streets where you usually hung out with your friends. sure enough, they're all there, looking horrendously forlorn. you give out the group whistle- one you all made up and agreed on a longgggg time ago- and they all look at you like you're a ghost before you're being yanked into a group hug.

some of 'em are mad tho; they all caught wind, ever since you were printed in black and white on the newspapers lil' jimmy still brought to them fresh every morning. thought you ditched us for daddy warbucks. and some of 'em are genuinely happy, not only to see you, but had been for you. thought you managed to finally get outta this hellhole. we knew you wouldn't forget us, tho.

you're smart, yvette - your bestest friend ever since elementary - murmured as she hugged you so tight you could barely breathe. you're smart and warm and so kind... i'mma miss your candy apple self not being around me 24/7 any more, but heavens above, you made it, ynnie any foster parent would be blessed to have you as a kid, y'hear? anybody and everybody. she pulls you back and rests her forehead on yours, staring into your eyes with her tear-filled ones. don't forget 'bout us, yeah? we still got your back. stay safe and take care of yourself.

and if you silently cried on the way back to the manor, Jason didn't say much about it. just wrapped an arm around your shoulders and took you for burgers.

—i feel that incident would settle you deeper into Jason's heart. he just sees so much of himself in you. in this scrappy kid who puts up such a carefree front, but is actually made of honey and caramel at their center. who has such a strong emotional intelligence at that age that Jason's sure is the only difference between him and you. in this child, who has a pure heart full of love with so much to give and just wants to be loved in return.

reader's softest with Cass and Alfred, as in they feel no need to put up pretenses with them. it's how they both find out that you're perpetually jaded and reminiscent of a long-suffering lamb: soft, tolerant, brokenhearted, shreds of innocence swirling about their heart still, maybe a little lost......

SPEAKING OF THE GRANDLER HIMSELF 🌹🎉: you get roped into baking with Alfred one day, and because Alfred is the actual MVP, you fall into his affections too.

it's when you're kneading at dough when a crestfallen expression suddenly overtakes your expression.

"mr. alfred," you drawl, inner city accent thickening with the melting of your posture. there's a heaviness to your tone that wasn't there before. it catches the elderly man's attention immediately. "you remind me a lot of my old man. not my father, but there was this elderly gentleman who took care of us street urchins. old man peaches. cuz every time we saw him, he sold us fresh peaches from his little milk carton in trade for some colorful bottle caps. dunno where he got 'em, said he grew them out the cracks in the concrete, the geezer. he was always talkin' like that — like there was some deeper meaning to everythin'. we groaned all the time, made all in good fun of him right to his face, but we all really loved it.

"one day, me 'n yvette were scouting 73rd and maryanne avenue; it's the curve that has all those connectin' alleyways that hide the abandoned warehouses, y'know? it's also where we hid out with peaches. had a small space heater and brought anything we needed from the foster care buildin'. sometimes we'd get dragged back but you keep doing something enough times, them folks who don't get paid enough for it just stop givin' a hoot... so long s'we made it back for inspections and didn't pilfer the good stuff, y'know?

"anyway. we went in there hollerin' for mr. peaches... he was usually napping by the space heater or stringing bottle cap jewelry for us, but he wasn't there. searched the whole warehouse, whole perimeter, nothing.

"then, vettie found him... " you pause, a smile that didn't reach your eyes spreading your cheeks. "right by the compost bin outside the back door of that same warehouse, chest not movin' and lips stained with blueberries."

alfred feels his stomach drop, beside himself. you looked up from the dough in your hands and simply regarded the old man, an uncharacteristic nonchalance marring your features.

"he was the only one that really understood and looked out for us the way he did. i ain't been able to eat peaches or anything of the like since then, but vettie is the one who couldn't sleep for the weeks after."

Alfie had long stopped chopping the onions for the dish at this point and all he could think was what has this poor child gone through?

TRAUMA TRAUMA TRAUMA TRAUMA TR

anywaaaaayzzzuh, I'm exhausted BUT yeah I just want to infect you lovingly with the brainworms of Jason bonding with a bat sibling reader who's a lot like him, and how he'd prevent a lot of pain that they ain't gotta go through because he went through the same.

And the things that he CAN'T prevent, because everyone deals with trauma differently, he's always gonna be there for you. And he wants you to know that.

reader is a bit wary of Dick because of his pure bubbliness and aura of flowers 🌸🌺🌻🌹🌷🌼💐and shooting stars — in Gotham?? — but Dick has an affinity to troubled kids and also . he's Dick Grayson, everybody loves him .

so he works together with Jason and soon enough, you're practically his respective child akshdjdhd

you and dami take a bit to come along BUTTTTT I hc that you come into their lives when Dami's a little older and therefore more matured.

I love Damian, I feel he'd be a pretty solid older brother figure.

the more time you spend there, the more you begin to trust your newfound family. (well, your pseudo siblings at least); the more you let your walls down, the more they get a peek into your true self- not just the distant exterior you put up.

you're thoughtful and generous; you like books and animals and know how to make ice cream from scratch with ice and plastic bags; you're resourceful and crafty - you learned how to hot wire cars and pick locks from the older kids down at the foster care home - but you don't try to give anyone headaches for it out of respect for Alfred, you claim solemnly.

you're a good kid.

it just takes a bit more for people to say that, and even more for you to let others see it.

I'LL BE BACK WITH MORE BUT PLEASE NOTE THAT I WROTE THIS THROUGHOUT THE NIGHT, CONTINUALLY PASSED OUT, AND IT'S THE FRICKIN MORNING ALREADY LMAOAOAOAOAOOO

OH MY GOD.

OH.

MY.

GOD.

ZEEP.

ZEEP WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO ME-

I just- Can I just-

If Brucie EVER tried to but reader in a cape Jason would lose his MIND.

How DARE you even THINK about putting the baby at risk? How dare you?

Totally just takes reader and brings them to his apartment until Bruce apologizes for even suggesting such a proposterous thing.

He's eventually forgiven but he's on thin ice okay?

Sleepovers at Jason's are also a very common thing.

Since he lives in the Narrows, it gives you the chance to roam your old stomping grounds and see your friends.

Poor reader has to go to all kinds of fancy dinner parties now.

Public appearences.

Such a drag.

Uncomfy clothes, and uncomfy people.

So, being the feral little street raised shit they are, reader says the most out of pocket freaky crap ever.

"Yeah, living in the Narrows as a kid was hard. Especially after the accident."

"Oh, yeah. I love my new home. The velociraptor in the backyard is a sweetheart."

"What do you mean Jason's supposed to be dead? He obviously got better. I've done it more than once. Yes I've died before. They said I can't tell you what comes after. Who's they? Don't worry about it."

And literally no one can say anything because their new dad is one of the richest men on Earth.

Also their first fancy gala something definitly went wrong.

Like lets says it gets targeted for some kind of robbery 'cus, ya know Gotham. And it's full of rich people.

Reader is literally like, "Fuck no. Get the hell out."

Grabs a bottle of champagne and breaks it over the ring leaders head with a loud shout of "ANARCHY!"

ALFIE AND OLD MAN PEACHES-

OH MY GOD I'M CRYING. I HOPE YOU KNOW I'M IN TEARS-

Also, the little punk stealing the CAR is hilarious. So much potential there.

Dick *interrupting Bruce for the upteenth time*: "Hey, B?"

Bruce *Severly annoyed*: "Yes, Nightwing? What is it?"

Dick: "Who's driving the car?"

*Que Jason wheezing over the comms*.

Dickie gives all kinds of nicknames.

Little wing, hoodlum, baby bird-

Him and Jason compete for your time.

Like there is an underground betting pool for who can get you to spend more time with whom.

Jason shows you all hid hidey places around the manor if you ever need a place to just- be

Tim helps with homework when Jason's not around (which isn't very often, Jason makes a point of visitiing often just to see you)

It makes for wonderful bonding with your busiest brother.

Damian, (though he will never admit it out loud), enjoys it when you join him in taking care of his animals.

Batcow and Jerry love you, and Alfred the cat has taken to sleeping in your room.

The two of you take Titus and Ace for walks, and Damian very smugly rubs it in Jason's face when a tabloid photo pops up of the two of you in matching sweaters and sunglasses.

"Clearly I am the superior brother, Todd. Even the media agrees."

"Well then I know it's bullshit because the media says it's true."

"Tt."

I HAVEN'T EVEN GOTTEN INTO STEPH AND DUKE AND CASS AND BABS UGGHHH

THERE'S OTHER STUFF I wanna ADD BUT I'VE MADE YOU WAIT LONG ENOUGH I'M SO SORRY-

#normie rambles #normies moots #the brain worms are SERIOUS UGGHHH #I'm so sorry it took so long 🥲🥲 #batfam #batfam x reader #civillian batsis #platonic x reader #jason todd #jason todd is best brother #dick grayson #x reader #dc x reader #dc comics #baby bat is an alley cat! (^U^) #i like that tag

[vroomvroomwee]

I don't think enough people realise how incredible Aziraphale is.

He's always known how good and kind Crowley is. Even from the beginning. Now imagine being in his place, after meeting such a wonderful and sweet angel, and hearing that he's fallen, that he's evil and wicked. No wonder he was sceptical and on edge at the garden... except Crowley was still the same, chatty, witty, and funny angel he met before the beginning. Crowleys fall terrifies him because in his mind, if someone like that can get sent to Hell, then what hope is there for me?

So he learns just how thin the line is between being an angel and a demon, just how close he's cutting it, just how little it takes for him to fall as well.

In his eyes, Crowley's brilliant. He's resourceful, intelligent, capable, everything he wants to be. Everything he's told he should be. And it creates so much confusion in his mind. How can someone like that fall while I'm still here? And it doesn't help one single bit that he's falling in love with him.

Aziraphale isn't stupid. Despite what everyone says, he's very in tune with his emotions. So much so that Crowley fails to keep up with his logic and decision-making. He realises that he's falling in love with Crowley, and that causes panick in him. He's an angel. He's not supposed to fall for temptation.

So he has two options: try to prove to himself Crowley's good and therefore justify his own feelings, or to prove Crowley's evil, and that's why he fell. So... in a way, he does both.

Every time Crowley tries to convince him of his malice, Aziraphale proves him wrong, sees right through him. All the while constantly putting a wedge between them, of good and evil. "But, you, are fallen." "I'm good, you, are evil." Even though he knows deep down that's not the truth, which is precisely why he's saying it, he knows Crowley is good, just as he knows he himself isn't fully. And no one must ever find that out.

Not only is he keeping Crowley at a distance for his own safety, but also for Crowleys. Sacrificing both their happiness for each others safety. He knows precisely what Hell will do to him if they ever find out how kind he really is.

And it would be very very simple if he just stopped hanging out with Crowley, except... he can't. No matter how hard he tries he's always pulled back to him. And over time he's testing his limits, what can I do? Am I allowed to do this? Food? That's forbidden? The Arangement? etc.

And you can't really blame him for fearing Falling. Not just burning in boiling sulfur as each of his cells is being transformed in the most agonising way, but also having to spend eternity there as well as the humiliation and resentment he'll get from Heaven. "My lot don't send rude notes." he knows how horrible and terrifying it is down there, and he is all too aware how he won't be able to cope. Too weak, too mellow, too soft.

Crowleys kindness is constantly putting him on edge because he just can't understand why he's a demon. While angels like Gabriel and Michael, who always put him down, are apathetic towards humanity, are narcissistic and emotionless... are still up there. 6000 years he's spent wondering when his time will come. When he'll be pulled down to Hell.

He's so goddamn kind that it took him 6000 years to realise Heaven is not all that it should be. Kinder than Heaven could ever hope to be (and after the "stay back" from ep6 we can see how thay he is capable of being harsh and ruthless, which means he actively chooses to be kind, which makes him all the more extraordinary and astonishing for it). And I'm not even going to go into the strength it takes to manage to break out of the brainwashing that Heaven has done to him. Thousands of years of being humiliated, feeling worthless, not good enough, not angelic enough, not even appreciated. And despite all that feedback and ridicule, he's never given in, never relented, never let anyone modify or change him, has never lost his kindness, his softness, his generosity even after all that he's seen and been through. And that is so fucking incredible.

Validation and praise being at his fingertips, if only he could let go of his individuality, his uniqueness. Of himself. Thousands of years of it, and he has never surrendered to it. Never betrayed himself, kept his pride and his self-worth despite other people trying to rid him of it.

And he knows this. He's too clever not to. He knows just how thin the ice is he's standing on. Even at the beginning, which is not long after the Fall if I might point out, he's defying orders and keeping Adam and Eve safe, risking his own safety for the safety of others. And he still doesn't back down.

But he can't for the life of him keep away from Crowley. Because of how much love he has for him, how much affection. "He's risking his entire existence," and he'll do it again because that's who he is. (Not many people will put their lives on the line for the person that tried to annihilate them, completely destroy them in every plane of existence. Actually, no one ever will. Except him.)

He. Never. Backs. Down. Not from Armaggedon and not from the Second Coming.

It's not that he doesn't love Crowley enough, it's that he loves him too much. This is an angel so full of love that he's scattering himself, breaking himself, tearing himself apart, trying to give it to everyone. To Crowley, to humanity, to Earth. He's risking destruction for the things he loves. Both physically and emotionally. He would sacrifice his own happiness, his own future with Crowley just to save humanity. And he does it again and again and that is so fucking amazing, so fucking incredible that I don't believe such a selfless character exists in any other piece of media or television.

(Also, this is all mostly referring to his emotional strength, but let's not forget how he faced literal Satan and smote around 20 demons in just a matter of seconds.)

Edit: Just wanted to add what one of you pointed out in the comments.

Aziraphale realises that running away with Crowley isn't really a relaxing and peaceful life as Crowley thinks it is. Far away from humanity and it's pleasures that they both love and engage with, something that brought them close in the first place due to their shared love for it, and constantly on the run from Heaven and Hell. Aziraphale is doing this for Crowley, so that he can be happy, so that both of them can be together. Not only that but he offered Crowley his angel status back, since he thought that would make him happy again, since he hoped that he could one day see that same smile that Crowley had when they first met, that smile that he hasn't been able to bring back all these years.

Aziraphale is now in Heaven, the last place he wants to be, the place he barely escaped with his life from, a place that hates him, filled with angels that despise him and want to see him suffer or worse, and he's utterly and completely alone.

He's trying to save the entire universe alone.

Think about that for a little bit.

Edit 2: I think it's worth noting that Aziraphale isn't perfect. And that's the point. He doesn't need to be perfect. He's naive and gullible and sees the world in black and white. He still needs to learn, to grow, to deal with these things. Soon enough, he'll realise that despite all the hope he has that he could fix Heaven, it just can't be mended, something Crowley has learned a long time ago and desperately tries to shoe him. He'll realise the system is corrupt, and no matter how hard he tries, it won't change because it wasn't designed that way. And it just makes him all the more brilliant. He isn't perfect. He has flaws, and he makes mistakes. He's an angel, but he's the most human of them all. And he's incredible all the more for it.

#to cut it short he's one of the most amazing characters ever written #good omens #goodomens #goodomenss2 #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #good omens 2 #aziracrow #good omens season 2 #goodomens2 #goodomensseason2 #good omens s2

[biteofcherry]

I’m binge reading your masterlist and I have this idea of Alpha Ari and Omega Reader’s wedding day. They get in argument the day before about something and the whole event is just tense.

Hey there 😊 Thanks for sacrificing your time and binge reading my works 😅

The ceremony of their wedding/mating will be tense in general (for Omega), they don't need an extra argument happening for that. Though if anything of that kind was about to take place, it'd be because of Omega's spur of the moment idea to maybe try running away again:

Bad Moon Rising

alpha Ari Levinson x omega female reader

Your heart hammers in your chest as you nervously glance around, foot impatiently tapping as you curse the bus for taking so long to get to the stop you're waiting at.

A broad silhouette on the other side of the street flashes between speeding cars, terrifying you for a second. Another car passes and he's gone - the mirage of your alpha...

Not my fucking alpha! You remind yourself inwardly.

But you were his omega, weren't you?

Every shifter in the area knows of Ari's claim. Every wolf can smell his scent on you. Though they don't mean you harm, no one would dare help you out in your reckless, last-surge-of-desperate-hope decision to flee before the mating ceremony.

If anything, they'd point him where to aim his chase after you.

Because the hunt belongs to the alpha as well.

You're not sure where you got the courage to try escaping, again. In the past weeks you somehow settled into the prospect of becoming his, accepted it. And Ari isn't bad. Not really.

Beside the stubborn determination to bind you to him, he's a nice, caring man. Witty and funny. You parents certainly don't mind him as their son in law.

He would care for you, you know that. Provide anything you, or your future children might need. Encourage you to stick to your goals, as long as they didn't steal you away from him. Hell, he mentioned getting you a new laptop, since the classes you start in a month are supposed to be online.

So why do you want to run? Is it the desire to be chased, which Ari loves to fulfill as it feeds his own dark hunger for hunting?

Well, you'd give him a serious mind-twist choosing a bus as a part of your escape. Your scent trail would cut that way, making it all the more harder.

You chance a look across the street again. No looming danger awaits there, people pass by, no one interested in you with your small backpack.

Before a sigh of relief fully leaves your chest, a large hand encircles the front of your neck. A broad, sturdy body presses against your back; strong arm settling across your midriff to keep you locked in place.

"The only reason my teeth aren't in your gland and you're not squirming on my knot this very second, is that I'm so fucking respectful of our traditions."

Ari's deceivingly soft, low purr sinks into your ear.

"I don't mind giving a good chase, you know that little omega." His teeth graze your earlobe. "We can play like that after our wedding night."

"If you're able to move, that is." He chuckles, rocking his hips against your ass.

#noseyrosey1597 #reply #bad moon rising #alpha ari levinson #alpha ari levinson x omega reader #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson x female reader #ari levinson x you

[lennadanvers]

Hi! I love everything youve written with my entire fucking heart like you dont understand there hasnt been a single thing of yours that I havent liked! Anyways, I was wondering if you could write some more Simon Riley? You write him so well it isnt even funny. If you cant, no worries! I think youre amazing!!!!

Hi! Thanks a lot for the praise, it means a lot (you don't even know how much, I'm pretty new to fanfic writing and posting stuff is still kinda terrifying, but when people say things like this it warms my heart). Anyway, I had this sitting in my drafts for way too long, and found the energy to finish it today. Sorry for the delay, I hope you still enjoy it.

Thanks for your patience <3

Every coin has two faces

Ghost doesn’t like to think about himself.

Maybe the mask is an effort to conceal his own face when he walks past a mirror, rather than to guard his identity. Maybe it has a double purpose. Maybe it’s just one: to hide. Whatever the case, Simon Riley avoided thinking about himself. Of how he looked. How he sounded. Or moved-

Until he had met you.

Fresh blood. As in a new recruit and as in that you were bleeding the first time he saw you. Despite the bloody nose, there was something there. A burn in your eyes. The sharp smile you threw to the recruit laying at your feet. To the one responsible for your pain. Sparring wasn’t supposed to be this dirty, but they had crossed the line. And you had slaughtered it in response. A fucking demon; you had become violence on the flesh and unleashed something nasty upon them.

Once you had won the fight -not fair and square, but they had asked for it-, you stopped. Put the leash on whatever it was that took over you, and stepped back, hand to your bloody face.

Simon smelled something rotten.

For the untrained nose, it wasn’t noticeable. Most people would have looked at you and seen a surprisingly skilled recruit, that’s it. But he saw himself. Broken recognizes broken, he supposes. The anger ready to jump out. The control; years of training that someone as young as you would only have if they started before even learning to talk.

That’s what it was, wasn’t it? You were another survivor. Another messed up past. Another broken child who grew into a desperate, cold monster.

Ghost saw himself in you.

It went downhill from there. Simon Riley knew it was a bad idea, he was a bad idea. But you were so good. Scary good. Too damn close to perfect for him to be at ease. He kept an eye on you. From afar. Very, very far. From a second-floor window. From his elevated position as a sniper in the field. From a couple dozens of yards in the training area. Through Soap’s gossip.

Simon Riley had never been so close to liking himself. You were fast, methodic, smart and precise. You were strong, witty, sarcastic and poisonous. He was interested, involved, captivated and weirdly vulnerable.

It haunted Ghost how much of himself he saw in you. It just made the few contrasts (sparkly smile, short body, soft curves) feel sweeter. Just made him want to be closer. If you were so… So beautiful, so elegant, deadly, appealing, valuable… Maybe he was, too. Maybe it happened to you too. Maybe, when you looked at him, you saw yourself. Maybe you understood.

That’s why the way you looked at him it chipped his heart a little.

He had never considered himself particularly handsome. Just a man. But this man had a good body -strong, healthy, taller than most. He was good at his job- effective, respected, he had earned his position. He knew not to get into other people’s business, and he had a decent sense of humor. Some women had even complimented his accent- apparently his voice was quite attractive. The few that had seen his face hadn’t complained, either.

Obviously, he didn’t expect everyone to be interested in him. Simon knew the mask weirded some people out. But it wasn’t the mask, was it?

It was him.

You looked at him like he was the president of the welcoming committee of the four horsemen of the apocalypse. Like you’d shoot him if he took a step too close (he never stood within less than six meters from your personal space, mind you). Whenever he entered the room, you stabbed him with your side eye. If Ghost had to walk past you in the hallway, you’d stick to the wall like a fucking tree frog, for God’s sake. And he hadn’t even talked to you directly.

Simon hadn’t been able to wrap his head around it.

Until now, that is. After you had been chosen to go with the team to a mission. One that was supposed to be easy. In and out. No more than a couple hours. No finding a place to stay the night. No ending up divided in a couple different locations. And definitely no spending the night hiding with you.

Alone.

There had been bullets flying everywhere. He was calm, fast. You knew better than to give him dirty looks when he dragged you to safety. But you were looking at him now. And he was terrified.

All this time, the scarred, broken kid inside him had recognized the scared, lost kid inside you. Ghost had seen himself in you.

But you had seen someone else in him.

His broad figure and trained muscles weren’t attractive, were they? They were menacing. His stealth, aim and training weren’t worthy of admiration, but fear. The hard-earned respect, the power, was nothing but a weapon, a strategic position from which to attack. Your dirty looks were the hate you had spent years nursing. God, the way you pressed against the wall in the hallways- your most basic instincts keeping you away from the predator.

Simon is a threat to you.

And you’re looking at him as if he was his father.

Ghost stares back at you from across the abandoned building you’re going to have to spend the whole night in. He’s going to be sick- you look sick. Simon knows how you feel. Being trapped in a house with a man who can beat you into a bloody pulp. Someone bigger, stronger and more powerful. Big body, hard knuckles and labored breath. Next to him, you’re so small. You’re weaker, have less experience and power over him. And you can’t leave: it would be worse. You’re trapped with him.

Alone.

It kills him, the way you step away from his body as soon as you can. How you don’t look him in the eyes, following his hands instead. He feels disgusting.

Simon takes a deep breath and forces his voice to sound calm- he’s not- and quiet.

“You alright? No wounds?”

He knows both answers: no and no. But he has to ask. Has to let you know he cares. He’s on your side. Here to take care of you. Not to hurt.

You shake your head.

“Good. Gonna stay ‘ere tonight. The others can’t be far. Contact Price to let ‘im know our position.”

A nod. He’s used to giving orders, but right now his voice sounded harsher than he would have liked to hear. Ghost winces.

“Thank you.”

It’s the surprise in your eyes that ignites his hope. He’s not an asshole. Maybe.

You don’t trust him, either way. After you eat- pressed against the wall, knees between you and him-, it’s time to prepare for the night. Simon knows how he’d feel if he was in your place. He’s more than sure you’re not happy sleeping in the same room as the big, creepy guy with military equipment who reminds you of a nightmare.

He takes off the gloves first. Someone told him he has nice hands, once. They’re brutal. But human. The mask is next. Usually- always- it stays on during missions, even if they last days. He can make an exception. His naked hand undresses the chin, the mouth, the nose- the scars. Simon bats his short eyelashes, as if the dim light of the sun setting was bothering him- he wants to show you he’s weak. He can be.

You stare at him from the other side of the room, still, a deer in headlights. Simon tucks the mask and his gloves into one of his pockets. Decides he’s keeping the bulletproof vest. But he can spare his gun. And the sniper rifle. And his knives- except for the one hidden inside his pants: he’s not undressing in front of your terrified eyes, and at least he has something to defend himself with, in case the enemy finds you. Everything else goes into a pile on the floor. He then steals a glance at you.

You’re looking at him unsure. He’s not only your superior, but a ruthless soldier. This is not the protocol. In fact, he’s being quite stupid by choosing to spend the night disarmed.

Simon shrugs. He’s not going to explain himself to you.

“’s uncomfortable to sleep with all that metal. ‘m a fucking bell.”

You give him another nod. It’s weird, how much you talk around other people. You’re usually loud, even your laugh. You laugh with other people. He’s seen you laugh at Soap’s jokes. He’s heard you teasing him about his accent.

Or, rather than that, the weird thing is how quiet you are next to him.

Ghost likes his recruits obedient and focused. Makes it easier to give orders if people have a cool head and are ready to follow. But you’re not. You’re ready to fight, flight or freeze, and you don’t trust him. You don’t trust he’ll keep you alive and well. Because you’re too busy making sure he can’t hurt you.

Except he can. He could. If he wanted. He doesn’t. For the life of him, he does not want to hurt you. Simon himself is terrified of the possibility.

Ghost knows it’s an absurd idea. He has no reason to. He is your superior, and you’re together in this. You’re supposed to watch each other’s backs. To be a team.

But right now, all you are is terrified.

And he doesn’t know how to make it stop. So he resorts to giving you choices.

“Wan’ the first watch?”

Say no, and he’ll make sure not even a cockroach crosses that door. You’ll be safer than in base.

You nod.

He bares his neck. Ghost has seen your teeth, and they’re more than enough to cause serious damage. Go on, he’s telling you, make sure I can’t fight back. Simon doesn’t say it, of course. Instead, he lays on the cold floor, away from the door and from you. Look, he’s out of the way. You can run, if you want to. You can wait until he’s asleep, grab his weapons and disappear. You can hide somewhere else until the sun rises. He just knows you’re good at hiding. He turns his back to you. There, it is yours to stab. If he ever gave you any reason to feel like this about him, by all means, go on. End his misery. But, most importantly, end yours. Take your pick, he left you an arsenal. He’s dying a death by his own weapons either way.

The shadow your body casts on the wall stays still a long time. It’s been well after an hour since he slowed his breathing down when you finally move into a comfortable position. The ruffling of your clothes and the little sigh you let out make him feel a little less cold. A little less like a monster.

When the sun wakes him up the next morning, you’re still sleeping. Ghost should reprimand you severely; should have woken him up, should have made sure someone was watching the door. But he can’t find it in him to do it, to betray this shadow of trust.

So Simon takes a mental picture of your relaxed face- he’s never seen it so close, it’s a sight worth risking his life for- and turns around. He pretends to sleep until you wake up and start making noise.

I hope you liked it, thanks again for the ask <3

If you (or anyone) have an idea/request/suggestion, I'll be happy to read them. It may take some time, but I promise I'll do my best. Also, I'm sorry if I made any mistakes, English is not my first language and today my brain was particularly confused. Just let me know and I'll fix it.

Masterlist here

#fanfiction #task force 141 #simon ghost riley #cod #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #lennadanvers #len answers #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x female reader

[calirph]

𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐑. 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐎𝐍 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒

All quotes are taken by Julia Quinn's Romancing Mr. Bridgerton, which the upcoming season three of Bridgerton is based upon. Change names, locations, pronouns as you see fit. Some of these are suggestive or spicy so beware but mostly, it's full of witty banter.

I love you with everything I am, everything I’ve been, and everything I hope to be.

 love you for the children we’ll have and for the years we’ll have together.

Do I look like a mess?

In three days. I will be your husband. I will take a solemn vow to protect you until death do us part. Do you understand what that means?

You are not going to waltz in here and distract me with a clever phrase and a beguiling smile.

You think my smile is beguiling?

You're in a rather odd mood today.

Isn’t it nice, to discover that we’re not exactly what we thought we were?

Just be quiet and accept the praise.

And why, pray tell, should I make it easy?

You're young, wealthy, and you're a *man*.'You can do anything you want.

You are a terrible liar, did you know that?

Actually, I'm an excellent liar. But what I'm really good at is appearing appropriately sheepish and adorable after I'm caught.

You’re the imperfect man of my heart, and that’s even better.

I believe we were discussing your dissatisfaction with life as the most popular man in London.

I suggest, that we flee the scene.

People are like fine wines. If they start off good, they only get better with age.

Why waste romance on a love that would never be returned?

Ah, now, there's the question I've been waiting for.

You can kiss me, too. A kiss is for two people.

When did I start needing you so much?

We women must look out for one another since it is clear no one else will do so.

Nobody ever thinks it's nice to see me...But I thank you for lying all the same.

But you’re mine, aren’t you?

You’ll find marriage a lot easier if you simply allow it to be.

Do you have any idea how dangerous it is for a woman alone in the City? Alone anywhere?

For God’s sake, Penelope. Are you going to marry me or not?

It has occasionally been remarked that I possessed a small modicum of intelligence in my youth, as well.

Half the time they didn’t even know I was there.

I didn't want you to think I stopped because you didn't please me.

You be quiet. It’s my turn to speak.

For the love of God, girl, don’t look! He’ll know you’re interested.

Suppose I told everyone that I had seduced you.

It wouldn’t matter that we had never even kissed. That, my dear Penelope, is the power of the word.

You’re not planning to refuse me, are you?

You’ve always been cheeky, did you know that?

Tell me what to do.

Tell me if I do anything you don't like.

I want to see you sitting up, so I can see them full and lovely and large. And then I want to crawl behind you and cup you.

And I want to do it in front of a mirror.

All these fools, trying to figure out what you did to get him to marry you, when all you really did was be yourself.

Colin, don't tease. I'm trying to be helpful.

I need a private moment with you, anyway.

You are beautiful, I don't know why nobody else sees it.

Anyone might see.

I want to dance with you.

Tenacity can be a very good thing, at the proper time.

I will always look after you, Penelope. You are special to me.

Ever the attentive nurse.

Are you going to tell me what is going on?

No, first I’m going to kiss you.

She’s lovely and intelligent and has a fine sense of humor. Who wouldn’t want to marry a woman like that?

You’re almost ready for me. So wet, but so tight.

Did you think I wouldn’t touch you like this?

So you’re saying you might like it like this?

You don’t like the dark?

I will make this right. I just need you to trust me.

What did she do to you?

My mother did say she would not forgive us unless we produced a grandchild.

I think that you were going to say that you wanted me to touch you 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆-

The way you were dancing with her looked rather interesting. You courting the girl, Bridgerton?

Oh, Penelope. Please tell me this feels good. Please.

Take a chance and see if you soar.

I don’t want to die without ever been kissed.

Sometimes I think I know you better than I know myself. And you would never do anything that would hurt me.

Good choice dancing with this one. I've always liked her. More brains than the rest of her family put together.

I don’t care what anyone says. No one can take that from me.

I am proud of what I’ve done. I don’t care what you say.

Is that a proposal?

I can’t believe you’re speaking to me like this.

You can’t believe I’m doing it or that I possess the nerve to do so?

Into the carriage.

Why, then do you grow so distant and cold.

You don't know my prayers.

Colin, you'll be ruined, too.

The dark, brooding types get all the women.

Penelope Featherington, I think you should dance with me.

One would think that a vital component of charity and grace is the ability not to draw attention to one's possession of them.

When did I gave you leave to interpret my sighs?

I want to strip you bare and sink into you and never let you go.

#meme #roleplay memes #sentence meme #( cali meme. ) #rp memes #rp prompt #rp musings #roleplay prompt #◟ ⋆ memes › roleplay sources. #bridgerton meme #polin meme #romancing mr bridgerton meme

[moralesluvr]

CABIN FEVER | SR

♡ pairings & aus : fem!reader x spencer reid

♡ summary: after jj plans a cabin trip for a group getaway, you unexpectedly have to share a cabin with spencer reid (who you aren't exactly very fond of), leading to a night of surprises and confessions.

♡ warnings: fluff, stupid spencer being mean, pining, two characters being hopelessly in love yet oblivious

♡ a/n: well HELLO!!!! its been like what....five months since i've written? crazy, i know! anyways i wanted to start writing for my darlings in the bau so here's a new fic! i hope you enjoy <;3

♡ got a request? | masterlist ♡

You'd like to say that you were a nice person. You got along with everyone, and you were always cordial to those that you weren't exactly close with, or even friends with, for that matter. However, this rule applies to everyone except one person- that person being Spencer Reid. 

You didn't exactly hate him- no, never, but the two of you were always butting heads. He was witty and often had to make a smart  or stupid comment about everything, even when the circumstances were far from humorous, and you knew he did it just to annoy you. The both of you had worked in the BAU together for years, and he was tolerable as long as the both of you were in the field, totally focused in on the task at hand. But any other time? Gosh, he could really be annoying.

JJ was one of your best friends from the BAU, and she had recently planned a camping trip for everyone to go on- just to get away for a little bit. And of course, despite you knowing that Spencer was definitely going to be there, you accepted the invite and began packing your bags.

It was Sunday, and you'd be staying for four days, so you packed one extra of everything, just to be careful. You grabbed your keys and other necessities and got into your car, typing the address into your GPS and cutting the radio on.

You're happily jamming out to your shuffled playlist when JJ's contact name flashes against your radio screen, and you click answer as you smile, "Hey, JJ! What's up?"

"Don't kill me," she starts, and that immediately starts to worry you. You sigh as she finishes her sentence, and you can hear the sincerity in her voice, "So...I accidentally under booked the cabins. There was supposed to be one for each person, but we're one short so..."

Your lips immediately flatten out as you sigh, "Please don't tell me I have to share with you know who."

JJ pouts on the other side of the line. "I'm sorry, I really am. He's not that bad-"

"Jen! He is terrible!" You protest, your GPS telling you that you're twenty five minutes away. "He's so annoying and he's always making fun of me."

"I know, love, I really am sorry. Do you think you can you deal for just four days?"

You give her a groan, but you know you can do it, so you agree to room with him. JJ claps on the other side of the phone and you can practically hear her smile in her voice, "I owe you one, Y/N! I love you!"

"Love you too," you grumble, clicking the red decline button as you turn your radio back up. Would it really be that bad to room with Spencer? Who knows, maybe the two of you might get along? He was kind of cute...

You shake your head to get rid of your absurd thoughts. He was your co-worker and your literal insufferable, built-in nemesis, plus, he was a couple years older than you- which was embarrassing, because you were way more mature than him. 

Almost thirty minutes pass until you pull into the lots of the cabins, the private residence beautifully decorated with vanilla colored decor and a bunch of land and activities set up outside. You spot Penelope and Emily roasting marshmallows by a bonfire, and you immediately get out of your car and lock it, joining them. Emily immediately jumps up to hug you, "Y/N! Hi!"

Penelope hugs you from the other side and you smile against them both, "Hello my loves!"

The three of you sit down and occupy yourselves with busy conversation until you hear a familiar voice, the same annoying, excruciating one that you hate.

Spencer.

He's being a usual chatterbox, talking Morgan's ear off, and you're glad that he doesn't spot you. A couple of more cars pull up and you assume that they're JJ, Hotch, and Rossi. You feel a pair of arms come at your waist and you instantly recognize your best friend, "JJ!"

She hugs you and you hug her back, your eyelashes fluttering as you smile. "Missed you."

You're catching up with a lot of the team members, and everyone gathers around the fire as they make themselves snacks and s'mores. You feel a presence next to you and you're awfully confused until you look over, and your jaw immediately clenches.

"Don't even think about it." You hiss at Spencer, who just gives you a warm smile, "Think about what?"

He's playing dumb, and you give it twenty minutes before he starts acting a fool.

And you were right. He's just talking away and making jokes and they would've been funny if all of them weren't about you. He loved to pick on you for a reason that you could never quite fathom, and it was starting to get a little bothersome. Everyone's laughing, though, and some of the jokes make your lips curl upwards until he makes one that you wish you didn't hear. Somehow, the topic of respect was brought up, and Spencer had said that the only reason people respected you was because you could never "look down" on anyone. And at first, you didn't get the joke, until you realized it was about your height.

You rose up from the log that you were sitting on and pushed the door open to your cabin, throwing yourself on the bed as a tear slipped from your eyes. It wasn't anything to cry about- maybe you were just being sensitive, but you had enough of his stupid jokes that were always targeted against you. You silently let the tears fall until you heard the door swing open, and you immediately dry your eyes. You look over to see who it is, and you nearly cry when you realize it's Spencer.

"I'm sorry," he starts, and for the first time, he actually sounds sincere. "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, I just thought we had that kind of relationship where we could make fun of each other."

Now you feel bad. Not because you're crying or because you're hurt, but because maybe- just maybe, you had gotten Spencer and your relationship with him all wrong. He notices that you're crying and his eyes soften, "Y/N, please say something."

"I'm fine," you wave it off, "It's okay. I'm just gonna get ready for bed."

You grab your belongings and walk into the bathroom, where you shower and slip on a pair of yellow pajamas. You tie up your hair in a ponytail and pad out back to the king-sized bed, and you groaned lightly when you realized that you'd have to share it with Spencer tonight. After his joke, you weren't sure if you wanted to even see him.

He's already in bed, and his hair is wet- so you assume that he took a shower at another one of the boys' cabin. He's reading, his glasses laying on the tip of his nose while his book rests in his lap. He's shirtless, wearing nothing but a pair of fuzzy socks and green sweatpants, and he actually looks kind of...cute.

Pull it together, Y/N.

You climb in on the other side and roll over, climbing underneath the covers and turning the lamp off.

"Good night, Y/N." Spencer says, turning his own lamp off and setting his glasses on the night stand as he sinks into the peeled sheets of the bed.

"Night..." you murmur, but you can't sleep. It's too cold and you're too lazy to get out of bed to turn on the heater, and plus, all of Spencer's shifting is keeping you from even falling into a small doze.

"Spence?" You call out, and he rolls over to face you. It's dark, so he can't see you, and your noses slightly bump as you turn onto your side. He laughs, and you laugh too, and for the first time, he isn't being absolutely insufferable.

"I can't sleep," you whisper, and he whispers back that he can't sleep either.

"Hey," you start, "I'm sorry I was such a jerk to you. You always just made those jokes and I deflected because...well, if you couldn't tell, I don't handle those things well." You laugh airily, and your eyes ache a little when Reid reaches over to turn the lamp on.

He's so cute. His curls are damp, some of them messily dried around his face. His nose has a little red indent from where his glasses were sitting, and you find it adorable as you smile.

God, what was happening? Were you catching feelings for Spencer?

His voice snaps you out of your thoughts, "I was the one that was being a jerk, I constantly made fun of you and made jokes without ever realizing that you weren't okay with it," Spencer says, "I'm sorry."

"It's okay, It's all good now." You whisper, smiling.

"You're really pretty."

What did he just say?

"Huh?" You ask, dumbfounded and a little nervous.

"You're...I said that you're really pretty." Spencer repeats, and you want to ask him to say it again, just to be sure. But you don't, you just reply, shaken, "T-Thank you. You're pretty too."

"I'm pretty?" He asks, a little confused, and you nod, blushing.

"Pretty boy." You smile.

"Pretty girl," he whispers, and you realize how close your faces are when you feel his warm breath fan against your face. He smells of autumn and cookies and all things warm, and your skin tingles with excitement as his lips graze over yours lightly before kissing you. The kiss is sweet, and you feel his hand snake around your waist underneath the covers as his other hand cups your cheek. You melt, and your smile breaks the kiss, "Oh my Lord."

Spencer smiles and rolls over, turning off the lamp before pulling you in by your waist, his head buried in the crook of your neck, "Goodnight, pretty girl."

"Goodnight, pretty boy." You smile, your eyes fluttering shut as you drift off to sleep.

#❝*⁀➷ gabbis.works #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x you #dr spencer reid #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds angst #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds x you #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction

[mycadences]

To those who claim that Azriel's bonus chapter doesn't mean anything because it's not in the actual ACOSF book, let me pose to you one question:

Whose book was ASOSF? In particular, whose POVs did it follow?

Now think. THINK.

It's a Nessian book. Were Nessian physically present during the bonus scene? No. No, they weren't.

So how was SJM supposed to include that scene in the actual ACOSF book when the scene didn't even have the POV characters of the book???

Was Nesta supposed to just stand there and quietly witness the failed kiss between Azriel and Elain? And follow Azriel to see the witty banter between him and Gwyn? One of the most important aspects of the scene, in my opinion, was the private uninterrupted time between Azriel and Gwyn, showing their dynamics when they were completely alone.

The fact that it was even included as a bonus scene is very, very telling. It wasn't crucial to the plot of ACOSF (I have no doubt that certain parts will be crucial in the future in the revelation of a certain mating bond ;) so why was it included as a bonus scene? What was so important about it? What did SJM want to emphasize in it? What did she want to set up?

I think we all know the answer.

Since we're on the topic of bonus chapters... Isn't it interesting that in Feysand's bonus chapter, Feyre did not associate Azriel with Elain (unlike in ACOWAR; did SJM change her mind? I mean we all know she's prone to doing that), but instead, brought up Lucien?

“I didn’t dare mention that if she had been wearing the enchanted gloves Lucien had gotten her last Solstice, nothing would have pierced them at all.”

As though SJM herself was consciously reminding us of his presence. Of their bond. Of the tension between them that remains to be explored. Of how their relationship is one that would be anything but boring because it's so filled with hurdles yet to be crossed. Gwynriel is my ride or die, but I also like Elucien because of their compatibility and how, for once, both of them found out the mating bond at the same time so that leveled the playing field a bit... and made things quite exciting. The bond snapped for both of them before they had a chance to even properly get to know each other, so there's a lot to play around with in terms of their bond.

I'm also pretty happy that certain anti-Gwynriels are denying the legitimacy of Azriel's bonus scene, because it proves that they view the interactions as irrefutably supportive of Gwynriel 😘

"But Azriel tucked away the thought, consciously erasing the slight smile it brought to his face. Buried the image down deep, where it glowed quietly.

A thing of secret, lovely beauty."

#gwynriel #pro gwynriel #antielriel #please give me their book already #I'm so impatient #and I know you are too #gwynriel supremacy #elucien #pro elucien

[greenerteacups]

also just read your favorite weasley post and !! love that Ron is your favorite he gets so much bashing in dramione works im like grrggr he’s not so horrible omg! he has his shortcomings but if you’re literally diving deep into draco as a character who in canon is overtly an ass then why are we destroying Ron’s character to justify the dramione relationship TT poor story building imo, but to each their own!

love your work, excited for what’s to come!!

I think Ron would've had better reception in the D/H fandom if — I mean, for one, if he wasn't a major obstacle to their ship going canon, which is like, not his fault, but also means he's never gonna be the most popular dude on the block — but also if the later books hadn't done him a bit dirty. Without even getting into how their characters change, Hermione becomes a lot more likable in later books when her enduring flaws of bossiness, paranoia, and know-it-all-ing become incredibly useful and appropriate in a literal war. Ron, in contrast, starts as an almost idealized "hero's best friend" archetype, friendly and witty and loyal, and then gets his flaws uncovered slowly. Whereas Hermione wears her faults on her sleeve from day one, Ron's self-esteem issues and empathy problems emerge realistically over time as the plot brings them to the fore. But because JKR doesn't conclude emotional arcs, he doesn't get an actual moment to overcome those flaws and triumph, restoring audience faith and making himself more likable by having overcome struggle.

Draco canonically exists to be a bully and antagonist. The stories are not terribly interested in him beyond that role. But there's something honest about that, since the reader never feels like the text expects you to like him. Draco is awful and owns it. He's narcissistic, cruel, and mean from the first interaction, so he has nowhere to go but up. If you like him, you like him because (probably) you're interested in where he could go in the future or in alternate universes, and how he could overcome his faults (making him extremely likable, because we love characters who struggle and win). He's not a three-dimensional character so much as he is the possibility of a three-dimensional character, and all that potential is really easy to like. Meanwhile, Ron is a three-dimensional character, full-stop. He fucks up sometimes, but in general, the text wants you to like him — problem being, the text doesn't always know how to make that happen, and sometimes it fails. Which can be doubly annoying, because then you feel like you're watching a character getting rewarded for bad behavior.

Now, me? I'm a consistent bitch. Blond or ginger, I'm equal-opportunity: give me a witty asshole with empathy problems and a fanatical devotion to the people they love, I'm locked in. I like Ron and Draco for a lot of the same reasons. I think they're very similar in a lot of ways that get overlooked. And if you ship Draco/Hermione, that should be great news, because you might suppose Hermione has a type.

#greenteacup asks #meta?

[vixstarria]

Ascended Astarion Headcanon

For the record, spawn Astarion all the way - if I ever ascend him it would be on an evil Durge run. Those two can have each other and be evil together, sure.

However.

The vast majority of Ascended Astarion fics that I've seen go along the following lines: Astarion becomes a cartoonishly evil villain, no common sense, no restraint, only flares of anger at the slightest provocation, just evil for the sake of being evil, senseless degradation of Tav who now lives in mortal fear of him, etc. And I think that is such an oversimplification.

Consider the following, at least with a non-evil aligned Tav:

[Btw I had the following typed up before the recent patch, and before seeing the vampire bride post, so if anything no longer checks out... Meh.]

More of a ruthless CEO / politician vibe for Astarion

Calculating, logical, more manipulative than ever

End always justifies the means, and whatever stands between him and what he wants can burn

Still not a details guy though

Still witty and has a sense of humor, but drier and without any trace of self-deprecation

Has more of a temper but is capable of restraining it

Incapable of love

I suppose I'm describing a sociopath, but perhaps not one at the very far end of that spectrum

Okay, you got me, I'm really grasping for straws here, BUT LET'S PRETEND, OKAY, LET'S PRETEND

Relationship with spawn Tav:

Basically views them as one might a prize racehorse or an exotic talking bird: pride, admiration (perhaps obsession is a better word), possessiveness, takes good care of them and ensures their needs are met, would rip off the arms of anyone that might hurt them

Still views them as his property or a possession, even if a favourite and treasured one

Still takes counsel from Tav, if reluctantly and with a likelihood to disregard it anyway, because remember - he is a logical being, and knows that Tav is the one person unable to betray him, who can be counted on to tell him the truth. Does not lash out at them for it. (okay, are you a Wheel of Time fan? Tav essentially becomes his Truthspeaker with filter-free privilege. There.)

Tav becomes a buffer between him and the rest of the world when he does have moments of rage-fuelled insanity:

"Darling, we can't block out the sun - the crops won't grow, animals will die, people will die, frankly everyone but us will die - what are you going to eat then?"

"My love, we can't decapitate the servants for accidents. Well-trained staff is so hard to find... Here, don't trouble yourself, I'll deal with them personally."

"Godsdamnit Astarion, what are we going to do with all these wolves?! They're shitting everywhere, put them away immediately."

Becomes the Yin to his Yang, so to speak

Tav accepts this role, as they know they are the only person with any sway whatsoever over Astarion

Tav yearns for pre-ascension Astarion, and is constantly searching for flickering glimpses of his soul, hoping he's still there, somewhere

Ominous locked door parties with the nobility? Oh absolutely, Tav's all about that though. Fuck the police. Eat the rich.

#astarion #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #astarion x tav #astarion headcanon #ascended astarion #and then they fucketh nasty style