#even though i can't make a living off of art and still am a very small creator i just. you all being here means so much

[joshym]

Le Morte d'Arthur: Chapter 1

Paring: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader

Summary: It all began with a passion for literature. What was once a dream to walk the halls of the University of Michigan is now a reality.

You thought you were prepared for everything.

A new town, a new school, a new way of life,

but what you were not prepared for…

was meeting the enigma that is Jake Kiszka.

Word Count: 8.8k+

Warnings: (for this chapter) mentions of stress & anxiety, mentions of a broken home, mentions of an ill, disabled parent, mentions of an oxygen tank & medications, jake is an asshole, (if I missed anything, please let me know)

a/n: it's here! i can't begin to express how excited i am to share this with everyone. this story has been in the works for quite some time now, & it's been such a joy to write. i sincerely hope you all love it. please don't be afraid to let me know what you think. 🤍

also, huge thank you to @jakeyt for being the best editor, & being my right hand in helping create this. i seriously couldn't have done it without you. love you SO much. you're the best sister i could ever ask for.

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As you walk up the stone steps of Angell Hall, you feel as though you’re walking into a book filled with ancient Greek Mythology. The pillars that resemble the Parthenon temple, the delicate stone work motifs that portray Athena's owl and Pegasus; you’ve truly never felt more at home than you do at this very moment as you take your first steps inside the building that houses the English Literature courses. The inside is rich with artwork personifying poetry and myth. The intricate neoclassical design of the ceilings, complete with gold leafing and imperial medallions. The most incredible building you’ve ever seen, and one of the many reasons you decided to make the transfer to the University of Michigan.

It’s been no easy feat to get here. In fact, it’s been damn near impossible. It’s by the skin of your teeth that you’re here today, walking the very halls of your dream school.

The road to get here has been hell. Pure, unadulterated hell. You’ve saved every last penny to afford the move here, while trying to take care of your mom and her declining health. It didn’t help that your dad decided it was all too much for him and left a year ago, leaving the two of you alone with hardly the means to afford even the bare necessities. With two full time jobs, online classes at some bullshit university, and tending to your mom’s every need for the last year, it’s a fucking miracle you’re standing here today. 

It’s only been a month since you received your acceptance letter in the mail. You worked your ass off the last two years maintaining a 4.0 gpa to be sure you’d be accepted. You’d applied back in January and waited six excruciating months to hear back, obsessively checking the mail at least three times a day. 

One day, you noticed a rather large, crumpled envelope stuffed in your tiny mailbox. It was wet from a rainstorm that had hit earlier that day, but you could still make out the sender information. 

The University of Michigan

515 East Jefferson St. 

1220 Student Activities Building

Ann Arbor, MI 48109-1316

You knew that the contents of this envelope would seal your fate for the next two years. You were hesitant at first to open, scared of rejection. You let it sit for a few hours before finally ripping it open as quickly as your fingers would allow.

You pulled out the sopping piece of cardstock, stamped with a golden “M” at the top left corner.

Congratulations, y/n! 

You’re in! We are pleased to inform you that you are admitted to the University of Michigan College of Literature, Science and the Arts Junior class entering fall of 2023.

Within two weeks of receiving the letter, you and your mom packed up what little you had and left the sleepy town of Cherry Tree, Oklahoma. 

Up until now, you’d lived in this tiny town your entire life. You’ve been so ready to leave, to find adventure elsewhere that would allow you to spread your wings. You’d been held back there for so long. You knew it was time, and as much as she could, your mother supported your choice to leave and she was eager herself to get away.

You managed to secure a low income apartment in Ann Arbor that has accommodations for those with disabilities. It’s a shithole. But it’s your shithole. 

You’re solely responsible for any and all bills as your mom isn’t fit to work. You’ve got enough saved up to last about a month, so one of your first priorities is to find a job that will sustain you. 

Right now, though, your current goal is to find your first class in this massive building. It’s intimidating. Everyone here is walking past you in a hurry to get where they need to go as you’re stuck, still trying to figure out where room 3182 is. There aren’t signs anywhere to help guide you through the utter maze that is Angell Hall. You haven’t the slightest clue of where to start.

You try asking a few people, only to be met with vague points in general directions, or people simply telling you ‘up stairs.’

Where are the damn stairs? 

You start trekking along in an attempt to find them, when you see a large wooden door that’s cracked open just enough to see, finally, a staircase. 

Some progress.

Making your way to the third floor, you assume you’ve finally found where your class will be when you look at a room number… and it says ‘2548.’ 

Dammit. 

You head back to the stairs to make your way up to the next floor, and to your relief, the class numbers all begin with a three. 

You head down the long, dimly lit hallway in frantic search for room 3182, to no avail. The hallway has so many twists and turns with no guidance for direction. There may as well be a scarecrow with arms pointing in all directions saying ‘this way!’

You’re stuck yet again, unsure of where to go. You assume everyone is in their respective classes as the hall is barren, so there’s not a soul to ask. With only two minutes until class begins, you’re nearing the point of giving up. 

Anything is better than waltzing into class late on your first day, no less your first day at a university where no one knows you. What a fantastic first impression to make.

Suddenly, a man comes barging down the hall towards you. He looks a bit unapproachable, wearing a large brimmed black hat on top of his shoulder length hair, sunglasses that mimic ones worn by John Lennon in the seventies and a matching all black ensemble of linen pants and a button up, with only the last few buttons actually secured. He jingles as he moves due to an obnoxious number of necklaces sitting on his bare chest.

You’re not sure you want to bother him but desperate times call for asking strange men for directions.

“Hi, excuse me. Could you tell me where room-”

Without even acknowledging your basic existence, he seems to be in a hurry as he slams into you, knocking your brown canvas bag off your shoulder and effectively dumping everything out of it. 

“Sorry,” he mumbles as he quickly turns the corner, not even bothering to help you pick up the mess he’s created.

“John Lennon wannabe motherfucker,” you mutter under your breath as you bend down to gather your belongings. 

You hear footsteps coming closer to you, thinking just maybe he's decided to come back and make amends.

“Sorry about him, girl.” 

You glance up just as she’s kneeling down, offering to help with your scattered books.

“Don’t pay him any mind. He thinks he walks on water,” she says as she helps you shove the last of them in your bag, now all disheveled and out of your perfect order. 

“God, thank you so much. Would you happen to know where room 3182 is? I haven’t the slightest clue where I’m going.” 

“Just keep going down the hall until you reach the bathroom, take a left and it’s the second room on the right,” she says, with a warm smile.

You thank her again and quickly head in that direction.

At last, you breathe a sigh of relief as you approach room 3182.

With a deep breath, you open the door to the massive lecture hall that appears more like an auditorium with its pitched floor.  

All eyes are on you, the room dead silent as the professor glares at you. 

“I’m so sorry I’m late, I had the worst time-”

“No matter. Just take your seat and do it quickly,” he cuts you off.

You scan the room in search of an empty seat as everyone continues to silently stare at you, eyes burning holes in your soul.

This is exactly what you wanted to avoid.

Finally you spot one on the far right corner of the room. Swiftly heading towards it, you make a horrid discovery.

Mr. John Lennon wannabe is in the seat right next to the empty one. 

Of fucking course.

Grudgingly, you take your seat next to him. He shifts his body slightly away from you as you situate yourself, letting out a long, dramatic sigh once you're settled.

You decide to try and humble him with your southern hospitality, asking his name with a kind smile, to which he only responds by cocking his head in your general direction and not bothering to answer you.

What an ass.

“Now that it seems we finally have everyone here, let’s get things started. Welcome to English 450, The Quest for King Arthur. My name is Dr. Movack and I will be your instructor throughout the semester.” 

You start pulling out all of your books on King Arthur, annoyed that some of them now have bent pages thanks to the mysterious man wearing all black sitting to your left.

“One of the requirements to be accepted in this class, aside from the prerequisite courses, is to have more than just the basic knowledge of Arthurian lore.” Dr. Movack continues, “Taking that into account, there is no need to waste time in starting from the beginning. However, I would like to take a moment to test your knowledge. Each person who answers correctly will receive a point towards extra credit.” 

Dr. Movack begins going around the room, asking everyone basic questions and facts about King Arthur when he finally gets to you.

“I would like you to tell me which text offers the earliest reference to Arthur.” 

With booming confidence, you answer, “I believe it’s around the 7th century when he is briefly mentioned in the poem titled Y Gododdin.”

The John Lennon look alike on your left lets out an obnoxiously loud chuckle while shaking his head.

“Dr. Movack, it’s a well known fact that Arthur isn’t specifically mentioned until Historia Brittonum in the 9th century. She’s clearly wrong,” he blurts out. 

You know your stuff when it comes to this lore. You’ve studied it for the better part of your life and you’ll be damned if you let this man who, for whatever reason has developed a vendetta against you, try to outwit you.

“No, you are wrong. You obviously haven’t read the poem or you’d know he’s named when referencing the bravery of Gwawrddur.”

He waves his palm in your face in an attempt to silence you, the gesture causing your lip to curl in frustration. “Tell her, Dr. Movack. Tell her she’s wrong and has no idea what she’s talking about.” He asserts.

Talking about you instead of to you is a great way to piss you off and he’s on the right path towards it. His refusal to even look at you has you nearly in flames with rage.

“What’s your name, miss?” Dr. Movack asks.

“Y/n,” you respond.

Your heart is thumping out of your chest as you await the professor's response.

“It seems there may be someone here who knows even more than you, Kiszka.” Lennon’s jaw nearly hits the desk beneath him. “Y/n is absolutely right. Y Gododdin does, in fact, mention Arthur. The introduction is so slight that it’s often missed, but scholars argue that this piece does indeed contain the first true reference.” 

Even through his obnoxious sunglasses, you can see the frustration painted on his face. Proving him wrong in front of the whole class serves him right. 

Poetic justice at its finest.

You laugh through your nose and give yourself a metaphorical pat on the back, anticipating more praise from Dr. Movack when he says “However, miss, you will not receive your point for being late to my class.”

Lennon cackles at this, of course, feeling he’s somehow won this educational battle.

He answers his question correctly, receiving his point and commendation from Dr. Movack. 

He sits back in his chair, arms crossed with a smug face, wearing a ‘kiss my ass’ grin on his lips.

You just roll your eyes and look the other direction, envisioning yourself ripping those ridiculous sunglasses off his face. 

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Something you’re not used to yet, and perhaps will never get used to, is the Detroit traffic. Stuck in your beat to hell ‘92 Firebird in bumper to bumper traffic, you’re at a near standstill as you’re desperate to get home after a long day of classes. What should only be a fifteen minute drive home has already lasted more than thirty, and you’ve hardly moved an inch.

You’re sitting in silence as you don’t even have the luxury of the radio to keep you company. You’re lucky enough that this car even runs with as much shit as it’s been through. A hand-me-down from a hand-me-down, losing parts and gusto after each set of hands it passes through. You figure you’ll be the last to drive it before it meets its timely end in the very near future.  

WIthout much else to preoccupy you at the moment, your mind is wandering with recollection of your first day at the school you’ve had your sights set on since your first comprehensible memory. Feeling like a fish out of water would be the most comfortable way to describe your day. It goes far beyond that. 

You know it’ll take some time to settle. But you’re afraid that time won’t fix the fact that you may not truly belong here. You’ve never really fit in anywhere, even in your tiny hometown that you’d lived in your whole life. You were never fully accepted there, so what makes you think you’d be accepted here? You’d always felt so isolated in Cherry Tree, too small of a town to feel such a way. Now, you have the intimidation of a rather large city to amplify your isolation.

Aside from the nightmare that was finding your first class and the man who made you late to it, your other classes went about as well as you could’ve hoped for. You’d still managed to get lost a fair amount, but on the brightside, you’d found the campus coffee shop so you had been able to stay there for a while this afternoon.

The man, who you can only refer to as Lennon given he so rudely refused to give you his first name, was also studying in the coffee shop today, much to your dismay. 

And the way he’d locked eyes with you for a brief moment before quickly looking away…

You were not sure why, but now, you can’t pry him from your ambulant mind. Something about him, aside from his insolent demeanor, is oddly enticing. He’s dark, almost mystifying. There are secrets in the air he breathes. Whether or not you want to know them, you can’t quite decide. Nonetheless, you’re intrigued.

Traffic finally begins to move at a steady pace, breaking your trance and causing your disoriented image of him to return to one filled with anger.  

Mystifying or not, he was an ass for absolutely no reason. You’ve made up your mind that you will never give him the time of day again. 

You pull into the parking lot of your apartment complex, your car sputtering its cry of exhaustion as you’ve put it to the ultimate test far too many times lately. 

“I need you to hang on just a little longer, old friend.” You say as you throw the gear shift in park. “Just a little longer, then we’ll lay your heaping metal bones to rest.” 

You trek up the stairs to your apartment, stopping at door 264. You smile as you look down to see “Don’t Knock Unless You Brought Wine” stitched on the doormat beneath your feet. Your mom insisted on it, and as ridiculous as you think it is, you’re grateful for the smile it’s brought to your tired face. 

You search through your disarranged canvas bag for your key, silently cursing the fact that it’s not in its designated spot.

Finally spotting the shining silver, you pull it out and twist it in the rusted bolt to open the door.

Your mom is sprawled out on the couch, her oxygen tank filling the quiet apartment with a subtle humming. The living room television is on some old sitcom she loves with the volume muted, as per usual for her.

You don’t want to wake her, as it’s imperative that she gets as much rest these days as she can. You keep as quiet as possible while heading to the kitchen to start dinner for the two of you.

You decide on something simple; bowtie pasta with alfredo and grilled chicken. 

Your mom always had a knack for all things culinary. Her skill remains unmatched, although it’s not as easy for her these days.

You sadly missed out on that trait from her. You’re lucky if you don’t burn the water. But, over the course of her illness becoming increasingly debilitating, you’ve taught yourself some easy and quick recipes to get by. 

You spoon a healthy amount of pasta on each of your plates, even garnishing them with a few basil leaves for a little aesthetic.

You pour yourself a much needed glass of merlot before taking your mom’s plate to her. 

You gently wake her by carefully nudging her hand. 

“Dinners ready, mom. I hope it’s okay.”

She slowly begins to stir awake, looking happy to see you as you sit next to her. “I’m sure it’ll be great. Thank you, sweetie.” You help her to sit up and get stabilized before handing her her plate. “How was your first day?” She tries not to wince as she takes her first bite. Her years of being a culinary expert have made her awfully picky when it comes to food, but she’s never once outwardly complained about your cooking. Although you can tell she’s less than impressed, she would never tell you that. She knows you’re trying your best and she’s so grateful for it, especially since your dad left.

“It was alright, I guess.” You take your first bite and instantly understand her initial aversion to it. Undercooked noodles and over cooked chicken. You’re glad it’s not the other way around this time.

“Just alright?” she asks.

You don’t have the heart to tell her how draining today truly was, so you just tell her that classes were a little stressful but that it really was a great day.

You switch the subject and talk about the beauty of the campus and how badly you wish she could see it. “Maybe someday,” she says.

You want nothing more than to get her out of this dingy apartment for a day and take her around, to show her the wonder of the city. It’s been incredibly difficult watching battle her illness. She seems to grow weaker with each passing day. Although she tries to conceal it from you, you know your mom, and you can see her deteriorate before your very eyes. It breaks your heart in a million pieces, but you still hold out  hope that she will get better someday. 

Hope is all you have.

Until then, you just try to enjoy each and every moment you share with her.

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You’re situated outside of room 3182 nearly thirty minutes early this morning, drinking your steaming coffee and reading House of Leaves that was assigned to you yesterday in your Classic Horror course. 

The real inescapable horror, however, would be sitting next to him again, so you’re here early to avoid the unnecessary cruelty you faced the other day. 

Taking advantage of your extra time, you allow yourself to become immersed in the daunting novel. 

You read of a man on a slow descent to insanity, discovering a manuscript that details a home that transforms on the inside, yet stays the same on the outside.

Unlit hallways that continue for ages, doors appearing where they hadn’t been before. An architectural conundrum, this house.

The words in the book appear in strange prints, some pages with them upside down, placed in strange patterns; some pages with no words at all.

The word “House” is always in the color blue, even on the cover. 

The novel both fascinates you and terrifies you all at once, having read it twice before. You’ve yet to make your own interpretations on this book as they seem to change with each read. A bit of a mindfuck, as it were.

Just as you’re diving head first into the maddening depths of Danielewski's story, you hear keys jingling followed by the door to the classroom opening. 

You’d been so lost in your book you hadn’t even noticed that most of the students had joined you in the hall, waiting for class to begin.

You’re the first to head inside, much to Dr. Movack’s shock. You take your seat in the front row near the podium, the furthest one away from where you assume Lennon will sit.

The rest of the class piles in, taking their respective seats and gearing up for class. Here comes Lennon, clad in all black once again– sunglasses and all. He walks right past you, humoring you by ignoring your presence. 

Good. Keep walking. 

As more students pile in, you notice one mindlessly walking towards you before he abruptly stops and eyes you in your seat. You simply smile and nod as he stands there with a curious look about him. 

He slowly walks away, leaving you a bit puzzled but you choose to ignore it.

The hands on the antique brass wall clock strike 10:00 am, and you notice Dr. Movack is still out in the hall speaking with someone. Of whom, you can’t quite tell.

You and the rest of the class wait patiently, when finally Dr. Movack walks in, but he’s not alone. He’s with the student who glared strangely at you just moments ago. 

The student is standing near the professor, as if he has something to say, when Dr. Movack clears his throat and begins speaking. 

“I feel I needn't say this, but it’s clear some of you aren’t aware of how things are done around here, so I will say it this once so that we all understand. Once you choose your seat on the first day of class, that becomes your designated seat for the remainder of the semester. It is disruptive to your fellow classmates to decide to take the seat they specifically chose as their throne for learning.”

Your chest tightens and your face becomes flush with unease. 

You know instantly that he’s talking about you. 

“So, I will end this here: if you are not sitting in the spot you chose on the first day of class, I suggest you move to said spot immediately so we can get started with our business.”

Shit.

You’re utterly humiliated as you slowly stand up, you being the only one to stand up and making it abundantly clear to everyone in class that you were the cause of this.

You take your things and move to the spot you so desperately wanted to avoid, right next to Lennon who is covering his mouth with his hand, giggling at your shame.

The student standing by Dr. Movack takes his rightful seat as you take yours.

The class you had been most excited for this semester is quickly turning out to be the one you wished you had never signed up for.

You made a terrible impression on the first day by being late, and now on the second day of this class, you’ve broken an unspoken rule that you had no previous knowledge of. All of that topped off with the man sitting next to you who has made his distaste for you rather clear… the only thought tormenting your mind is how badly you wish you could crawl in a hole and never have to show your face in this class ever again.

“I have an important announcement,” declares Dr. Movack as he takes post behind his podium. “Through the entirety of this course, you will be working on a semester-long project relating to the appropriation of Arthurian legend. This project is fairly at your liberty, meaning there are very few stipulations for you to follow.”

Okay, this is something you can handle. Something to sink your teeth into, something you know you’ll excel at. 

“This will not be a solo project, however.”

Oh no.

“There are exactly fifty students in this class, so you will be paired in twos for a total of twenty five projects.”

Please no.

“As far as who you will be assigned with, that is very simple. The person seated next to you is who you will work with for the remainder of the semester.”

With Lennon being the very last seat in your row, and you being directly next to him, this means…he will  be your partner. For the entire semester. 

You were cursed from the first day you stepped foot in this room and had to sit next to him. Fate would have it so things would not work in your favor, it appears. 

“This project is not to be taken lightly as it is worth sixty percent of your final grade. Everything in this class will lead up to it, so I suggest you take your readings very seriously.”

He will ruin this for you, no fucking doubt. 

He won’t even give you the grace of telling you his first name, and now you have to work on a huge project with him for four months? A project worth more than half of your grade? 

That hole you debated on crawling in is sounding better and better by the minute.

“Well, guess that makes us partners.” To your disbelief, Lennon speaks his first words to you in lieu of his typical 'at you' approach. “The nice thing is that it guarantees me a good grade.” 

“Is that your way of admitting I know more about this than you do, Kiszka?” you snark. He cocks an eyebrow above his black lenses as you dare to utter his last name.  

“Not quite.” He snorts a condescending chuckle, “I can tell you’re the type to work towards the best grade possible, hence, ensuring my success in the process. Shall I thank you now or later?”

Lennon’s got you there.

You take projects like these rather seriously, and this one will be no exception. As much as you’d love to set him up for failure, that would warrant your failure right along with him. 

It’s the perfect scenario for him and a living nightmare for you.

Lovely.

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You walk through the open doors of the lecture hall for your next class, spotting yet another familiar face amongst the students, only this one much more kind and welcoming. 

You recognize her as the kind soul who helped you the other day when your bag was senselessly knocked off your shoulder by your favorite Lennon impersonator. 

“Hey!” she says as she notices you, “Come sit next to me!”

You’re nearly taken away by her beauty as you sit beside her, finally able to get a better look at her this time.

Her glowing caramel skin, her eyes light and honest with a sepia tone, her dark brown curls that are unruly yet flawlessly styled, held perfectly on top of her head with the most beautiful satin scarf. 

“Thank you again for helping me the other day. You’re a saint for that.” You hang your book bag on the back of your chair, pulling out its contents for class. “You’ll never believe this, but that guy that slammed into me with no remorse, he’s in my class. The one that he made me so late for. And because of that, we’re partnered together for a semester-long project.” 

“Ah yes, Jake,” she says under a giggle, adjusting her dark green, slouchy sweater off her toned shoulder. “He’s something else, that’s for sure. He’s got a good heart but he covers it with that mysterious, dark facade that he thinks makes him look so cool.” 

Alas, Lennon does have a first name after all. Although, you prefer the nickname you’ve given him. 

“Well, Jake has made it rather clear that I am not his favorite person and I can’t for the life of me figure out why. I’m not sure how we’ll manage to make it through this semester together with his shitty attitude.”

She hums under her breath, slowly shaking her head as if to say ‘just you wait.’

“My name’s Natalia. Where’d you fly in from?”

The way her name rolls off her tongue with her slight accent is nothing short of beautiful.

“Just a miniscule town in Oklahoma. Is it really that obvious that I’m not from here?” you answer in a hushed tone, half embarrassed to admit such a thing.

She grins as she sings a few words from the title track from the beloved Rodgers and Hammerstein musical, showcasing her stark white teeth that compliment her glowing, tanned skin perfectly.

“I hate to tell you Ms. Oklahoma, but you do kind of stick out like a sore thumb,” she quips. 

Having gone from a small, southern town to the outskirts of Detroit, you’re bound to look like an outsider until the culture shock wears off, much to your discontent. 

As much as you wish you could quickly adapt and easily blend in, it’s just not possible. Your face twinges as you remember your first day, specifically that one class you’d care to not mention any further. 

“Welcome, students, to Women in Literature. My name is Dr. Lacey and I’ll be your instructor through the duration of this course.” 

Class begins and you both submerge yourself in a study that’s particularly important to each of you.

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“I can’t call you Ms. Oklahoma forever, you know.” 

You and Natalia have the rest of the day free from classes, so you decided to walk with her to the Central Campus library to do some studying.

“I guess you’re right,” you say through a laugh. “My name is y/n.”

You walk across the large courtyard full of lush green grass, intricate steel benches and the most lovely hydrangeas colored a deep purple. 

The Michigan landscape is a far cry from anything you had ever seen in Oklahoma. Everything's so green and flourished, so full of life. Vibrant colors paint the scenery in the most beautiful vision. 

The weather is nearly perfect, with the temperatures never exceeding the mid seventies and the humidity far below the excruciating levels of the southern states. 

You’re in awe as you go day to day with the sheer beauty of the nature that surrounds you. 

Suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, your curiosity begins to take over your every thought. Jake Kiszka. Your semester-long partner. You need to know more about him, as much as you attempt to relinquish the desire.

You finally build up the courage to ask. “So, how do you know him?”

She looks at you upon your inquiry, squinting her eyes as she studies your face. “Who, Jake?” She says with a sinister grin about her. 

“Yes, Jake. What is it about him that he feels the need to treat people like they’re beneath him?”

“Ah, Sir Jacob,” she says. “He’s a bit of an enigma, I guess you could say. And yes, he is single.” She throws you a wink as you stare at her with utter disgust at her wisecrack.

“I do not care if he’s single,” you respond, causing her to snort a chuckle. 

“I’ve known the guy for years. We go all the way back to the golden days of our youth. He and his twin brother graduated high school a year before me, and their younger brother was a year below me.” A twin? There’s two of him? “I’ve known their family for the better part of my life. Good people, truly. I can’t begin to tell you how much they’ve helped my family and me.”

You’ve only just met him, but the words ‘good’ and ‘Jake’ don’t seem to belong in the same sentence. 

“Incidentally enough, his twin, Josh, and my brother, Malachi, have been partners since they graduated together. So, they’re kind of my family, too.” You walk up the steps to the library as she holds the large wooden door open for you.“I promise you, y/n. He’s not all bad. You’ve just seen what he projects to people he doesn’t know. Like I said, he thinks it makes him look cool.”

Your thoughts momentarily stop as you take your first steps into the library. You’re in shock. Though, you shouldn’t be. Every single building you’ve stepped foot into on this campus is absolutely immaculate, and the library is no exception.

It’s almost bewitching, with thousands of books lining the walls, reaching chandeliers that seem to hang from the clouds at their height. 

The alluring musty scent of aged novels fill your senses and take you back to a time long since forgotten. 

It’ll be far too tempting to spend all of your time here, getting lost in the pages that fill the space of grandeur.

You’ve been stuck in a near trance by the beauty surrounding you, you hadn’t even noticed that Natalia moved behind the circulation desk.

“It’s also his way of keeping his guard up. It’s rare that anyone gets to discover the true Jacob,” she says as she types away at the computer sitting at the desk.

“Um, Natalia?” You quietly ask. “Should you be back there?”

She laughs as she takes in your slightly terrified expression, “Well I would say so, ya know, since it’s the start of my shift.”

“You work here?” How could anyone be so lucky as to work in such an immaculate setting?

“It’s a pretty sweet gig. It’s not the most thrilling job but it’s nice and quiet. I get to spend my days among books, and the tuition break is a pretty nice incentive.” She secures her gold plated magnetic name badge to sweater, making her look rather official.

A job on campus would be utter perfection for you. You’ll be spending a vast majority of your time here anyways, and the tuition break would be a significant help in your situation. 

“Do you happen to know of any other jobs on campus that are hiring?” you ask, almost embarrassed, but you have a feeling you can trust her. “I’m kind of in a pinch to find something soon. Desperate, actually.”

She rests her chin between her index finger and thumb, seeming to ponder your question. “I know of a few,” she says. “One that just so happens to be in this very library, if you’re interested.” Her voice carries an almost sarcastic tone, she knows you’re interested. 

“Oh my god, are you serious? I would love to work here!” you say.

“I figured you would.” She rummages through the credenza and pulls out a sheet of paper entitled ‘Employment Application’ and sets it on the desk in front of you. 

“Go ahead and fill this out, and I’ll consider putting in a good word for you.” She winks at you as she hands you a pen. 

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

Classes have become increasingly difficult. It’s nothing you can’t handle, but you find it hard to make time for much of anything outside of work and school. 

You started your new job at the library one week ago today. You pick up as many shifts as possible, mostly evenings and nights as your days are taken up with your classes. The library stays open until ten o’clock, so most nights you don’t get home until at least ten thirty. 

You set aside a little time after class everyday to run home and take care of your mom before work, making her dinner and being sure her nightly medications are set out before you head back to campus.

As busy as you are, you truly love your job and you’re immensely excited about your studies.

Your friendship with Natalia has bloomed beautifully over the last week. 

You’re so grateful for her. She has been your saving grace lately as this last week has been a bit treacherous. Her companionship has been a major help in your adjustment to this new way of life and your somewhat rigorous schedule.

Jake, on the other hand–well, things are about the same. You’ve set aside your pride a few times this week in an attempt to get along with him for the sake of your project, but he just brushed you off, every single time. 

This project is massive, and not having it started yet, or even having a single idea about what you’ll do with it, is giving you serious anxiety. 

The tension with him seems to grow by the day and you’re almost at the end of your rope with it. You don’t know how to fix it, but you need to figure out something soon so you can bury this unnecessary hatchet and focus on your shared assignment.

–

After running home to make dinner for your mom and tend to a few chores, you make it back to campus just in time to begin your shift.

Tonight, you’re in charge of contacting students with missing books and tacking on late fees to their accounts if necessary. 

You’re sitting at the computer, scrolling through the seemingly endless list of students and calling them to let them know of the fees they’ve accrued. 

Most of them are rather displeased with you upon your notice, some of them even giving you a small piece of their mind before abruptly hanging up on you. 

You make phone call after phone call, trekking through the list organized alphabetically by last name.

At last, you’ve made it to the end of the J’s. Your task for the evening was to make it halfway through the list, and you’re nearly there as you begin contacting students whose last names begin with K. 

Upon reading the name of the next student, your heart sinks to the pit of your stomach.

Kiszka, Jacob T (1): Le Morte d’Arthur (Norton Critical Edition) - Mallory

“You can’t be serious,” you mumble.

You debate on ‘accidentally’ skipping him, but you don’t want anything to jeopardize your brand new job.

You have to call him, and you’re not looking forward to it.

You suddenly hear the voice of your boss in the back of your mind, “It’s proper etiquette to always state your name when calling students, so be sure to introduce yourself with each call you make.” 

You quickly make up your mind that you will not mention your name during your call to him. The last thing you need is any more awkward air between you two.

You dial his number and wait, listening to the ominous ringing from the other end. 

Your eyes are pinched shut, your palms sticky with sweat as you secretly hope he doesn’t answer. 

Then, the ringing comes to a stop, “Hello?”

Shit. 

“Is this Jacob?” You use your best professional tone, hoping to disguise your voice as much as you can.

“This is he,” he responds, the statement ending in more of a question.

“Hi, Jacob. This is y/n with the Central Campus Library.”

Fuck.

You throw your head in your hand, mentally cursing yourself for letting your name slip through. Maybe he didn’t notice, you think to yourself.

There’s an uncomfortable silence for a moment before you clear your throat and continue speaking.

“I’m calling about your overdue copy of Le Morte d’Arthur.”

“Y/n? Aren’t you in my class?” he asks.

So much for him not noticing. 

Ignoring his question, you proceed “It looks like you checked it out over the summer and it’s now twenty eight days overdue. Per policy, there has been a fee of seven dollars and fifty cents added to your account. If it is not returned by the thirty one day mark, you will receive anoth-” 

He patronizingly cuts you off before you can finish, “You’re in Movack’s class, huh? You sit right next to me.” 

With a sigh of frustration, you finish telling him that he must return it within three days or he’ll receive a much heftier fee.

“Yeah, okay. We’ll see about that,” he says before hanging up on you. His short tone has infuriated you beyond belief.

“Asshole,” you exclaim as you slam the phone down on the receiver causing a booming echo to erupt throughout the building. Luckily, the only other person here with you is Natalia. She’s been in the back sorting books while you’ve been dealing with overdue rentals.

Her boisterous laughter adds to the echoing bouncing off the walls. “I heard that,” she yells.

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

You’re especially dreading Dr. Movacks class today after your phone call with Jake last night. You know for a fact that things will be even more tense with him today, and you’re just not in the mood to deal with it.

The exhaustion from everything piled on your plate has really begun to set in. Jake is the last thing you want to worry about. With each unpleasant interaction with him, your impatience grows to new levels.

With the support of your large cold brew in hand, you gather the nerve to walk into class. 

“So you work at the library, huh?” Jake says as you take your seat. 

“Yep,” you say in response. You pull out your phone and scroll mindlessly, giving him the hint that you’re less than interested in talking with him.

Class begins, and Dr. Movack starts his lecture on Arthurian timelines. You’re trying to pay close attention, but you find yourself becoming increasingly distracted– by Jake. 

He smells so good– a mix of sandalwood and vanilla. You’ve noticed it before, but for some reason it’s particularly exhilarating today. 

You chalk it up to delusion from fatigue and force yourself to pay attention to the lecture. 

But fuck if it isn’t hard has hell to ignore. 

You reach for your coffee, glancing Jake's way when you make yet another intrusive realization.

The way he grips his pen so tightly– the veins in his hand and forearm protrude in the most captivating way. 

Your eyes slowly follow a trail to his pecks, the curve of them seen just beneath his partially open, black—of course—button down. You watch them tense slightly with each word he writes. 

Dr. Movack ends the lecture and you suddenly realize you’ve been staring far too long.  

“Can I help you?”  

You’re instantly mortified at him catching your stare. Desperate to find any excuse, you happen to see his copy of Le Morte d’Arthur sitting underneath his notebook. Thank god. 

“Your book,” you point to the novel. “You need to return it.” 

He huffs a laugh as he takes his sunglasses off, leaving you stunned. This is the first time you’ve seen his face without their obstruction—and the first time you’ve ever seen his eyes. 

His eyes are kind and warm. They glow amber brown like a glass of whiskey on the rocks, intoxicating you just as the smooth drink would.

“I still have two days, right?”

You saw his lips move, but the sound that came from them was muffled in your head as you’re entirely mesmerized by his eyes.

“Right?” he asserts, breaking you from your trance.

You blink your eyes a few times to bring yourself back to earth as your brain registers what he had said.

“What? Y– yes, you still have two days,” you say. “You know it’s not a required reading until later on in the semester, right? Why do you need it right now?”

“Maybe I wanted to get a head start,” he says while tossing it in his black leather satchel. “Maybe it’s not any of your business.” He swiftly gets up and walks away, leaving you completely frustrated yet again. 

Your journey to your next class feels more like a rigorous trudge. You’re walking fast and hard, stomping your feet with each step as your anger towards Jake exudes through your body. 

Not only are you pissed at his stupid fucking attitude, you’re pissed that you find him so damn attractive. 

How could you possibly find someone like him appealing? Appealing to the eye, yes, but that’s where it stops. He’s a walking rain cloud hovering over you, stealing all the sunshine from your day in only a matter of a single class period. 

You’re impatiently counting the days until this class– until this project– is over and done with so you can move on and live a peaceful existence. 

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

It’s just about time to close the library and you could not be more ready. The last few days have been incredibly draining. With homework piling up in heaps, multiple tests to study for and working nearly every night, your stress is at an all time high. 

Thankfully, tomorrow is Saturday. This will be your first day off all week and you’re beyond ready for some much needed relaxation. You just need to get through these next five, excruciating minutes.

It’s been awfully quiet tonight and you’re grateful for it since you’re the only one working, but the lack of students has made the shift feel much longer than usual. 

You glance up at the clock that says it’s two minutes until ten. Given you haven’t seen any signs of a student in hours, you figure it would be okay to go ahead and lock up a few minutes early.

Just as you're about to twist the lock on the bolt, someone from the other end hastily turns the knob and pushes open the door with great force, causing you to stumble backwards.

Standing before you with their overdue book in hand, and to your utter disgust, is Jake. 

“We’re closed, Jake.”

He takes a few steps inside as he points behind you at the clock. “According to that, you’re still open for one more minute and I need to return my book.”

Of fucking course he waited until the literal last minute. 

You want nothing more than to turn him away and tell him he’s shit out of luck, but technically, he’s right. He’s entered the building before closing and according to policy, you have to serve him.

Son of a bitch. 

You bring your hand up to rub your forehead, trying to relieve some tension before you begin this process with him. “Follow me,” you say as you head back to the desk.

There’s an awkward silence lingering between you two as you sign into the computer, the only sound being his fingers tapping away at the desk as he impatiently waits for you.

“You could’ve just put it in the drop box outside, you know. They would’ve gotten it on Monday morning,” you tell him.

“Yeah, but then it would’ve been late. I’m not letting you all charge yet another absurd late fee,” he retorts.

“You should’ve turned it in on time, then.” 

You seem to have struck a nerve with him given the way his jaw clenched at your statement. You just can’t bring yourself to care– he’s the one forcing you to stay late when all you want to do is go home and go to bed. 

You go through the return process as quickly as you can. You finish, giving him his copy of the document that states he brought the book back. 

“Thanks,” he says. “Now I would like to check it back out, please.” 

Are you fucking kidding.

You know he’s doing this just to spite you.

You throw your hands down on the keyboard, “Seriously? Why can’t you just come back on Monday?” 

“Because I need it this weekend,” he claims.

“What could you possibly need it for?” Any semblance of patience you may have had left has officially walked out the door.

“Didn’t I tell you it was none of your business?” 

You take a deep breath and push it back out in a long sigh. You just don’t have it in you to argue anymore, so you accept defeat and begin checking it back out to him. 

You don’t say anything as you hand him a pen and the checkout slip for him to sign. He grabs the pen, looking at you with a slight guilt-ridden expression before giving his signature. 

“I’m working on a film with my brother, and I need the book to help him write the script.” This is the first time you’ve ever noted a hint of sincerity in his voice. The features of his face have softened– you can tell this is important to him. 

You flip delicately through the tattered and stained pages of the book. “I have my own copy of this out in my car,” you say. “I’ll just let you borrow mine. It’s in much better condition than this one, anyways.”

He agrees as you take the slip from under his fingers and crumple it, throwing it in the trash can under the desk. He waits a few minutes, letting you lock up. 

Then, he follows closely behind you to your car to retrieve the book.

You bend at the waist to dig for the book in the mess of your backseat. When you do so, you hear him take a deep inhale, and then blow it out in an exhale.

Is he annoyed with you having to dig? Because he can get the fuck over it. 

Just as you hear him clear his throat in impatience, you’ve found the book. You stand and hand him the book, annoyed with him and ready to leave. He thanks you, and you nod, bidding him a hasty ‘good night’… you’re just ready to get home. 

He begins to walk away, but stops and turns back around to face you.

Fuck. You’d been so close to being in the car, on your way home. Dammit.

“This film my brother’s doing,” he says. “Its focus surrounds the adultery of Arthur and Guinevere. He asked me to help him, and I was thinking…” You nod your head to let him know to keep going. “Well, if we both helped him, we could use it for our project.” 

Your interest is certainly piqued. “Yeah, that could work. I’ve written a few scripts and designed theoretical sets for a couple film electives before… so I could definitely do that.”

“He could use more help with all of that for sure, but what he really needs are actors, specifically ones to play Arthur and Guinevere. He’s been begging me to play Arthur and I agreed, but now he’s on my case about finding someone to play Guinevere and, well...” He gestures his arms towards you, signaling that he thinks you should play her. 

“Um…,” you take a minute to figure out how to politely turn him down as you feel a blush rise to your cheeks. You’d never admit it, but just the mere thought of interacting with him so intimately in those roles has your stomach doing weird flips. “Jake… I– I don’t know about that. I’m much better behind the camera, acting just isn’t really my thing.” 

“Just give it a try,” he insists. Why does he seem so adamant? Geez. “And if you hate it, you can do something else. But I think you’d be great at it, really.” He smiles at you, the first time you’ve seen a true, genuine smile from him.

Well, fuck.

You want to say no, you should say no. With how he’s treated you thus far, you don’t owe him anything. But– you can’t deny how it would help your project. And this project in Movack’s class… It's important to you. It would be fantastic to have it to back up your own project… 

And, aside from that, his smile is making it awfully hard to turn him down right now. 

If you were alone, you would have slapped your forehead at the utter chaos in your head, leading to your ultimate decision.

With a little hesitancy, you speak up, “I guess I could stop by. Feel out the role…”

His features seem to lift more at that. You pay it hardly any mind. 

And with his final reply, his velvet-toned voice has a brand new, excited, air to it. “It’ll be really amazing, I promise.” Then, he chuckles, almost to himself. “It’ll definitely be interesting,” he shakes his head, a grin still lifting his cheek. “But really… I think it’ll be great. I know my brother and you will get along. He’s also one hell of a director.” 

Minutes later, as you’re climbing into your driver's seat, you take a few minutes to sit in the silence of your car. 

Trying your damnedest to block out the obnoxious fluorescent lighting of the parking lot, you stare through your windshield into the black night sky. 

And when normally, the blanket of black would bring you a sense of peace and comfort, tonight it’s different. Tonight, you can’t help but feel a burgeoning sense of timidness as you fail to find answers to your new predicament in the night sky.

What in the hell had you just agreed to?

taglist:

@jakeyt @alwaysonthemend @sacredjake @jakesgrapejuice @misshunnybee @reesetrippingthelight @way-to-go-lad @iffypanic @sinarainbows @klarxtr @brinlygvf @stardustjake @gretavanbear @gvfmelbourne @sinsofstardust @literal-dead-leaf @livkiszka @gvf-ficreads @jaaakeeey @capturethechaos @neptune2324 @jaketlove @thetroublegetssoloud71 @myleftsock @sanguinebats @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface

a/n: let me know if you'd like to be tagged, or follow this link to be added. 🤍

love you all SO MUCH

Le Morte d’Arthur Masterlist

Masterlist

#jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka fic #jake kiszka fanfiction #jake kiszka smut #greta van fleet fanfiction #gvf fic #jake fic #jake kiszka #le morte d’arthur

[promptthebear]

I love your writing so much - can I request 🐰 Arron Hotchner for number 13? I hope you are having a good day :)

Aaron Hotchner x Reader- Special kind of honey

Prompt: This is stupid...and kind of fun

Summary: Hotch just got back from a tough case. You've got a nice little homecoming surprise for him. Unfortunately things don't go as planned.

CW: A little bit spicy but not explicit. Some mild swearing. Established relationship between reader and Hotch. Reader has low self esteem. I can't think of anything else that needs to be tagged but please let me know if it does.

A/N: I am so very sorry this took so long and also that it kind of stinks. I really struggled with this prompt but what the hey, I tried.

Aaron wasn’t sure what he’d expected to find, coming home from a case well past midnight but it certainly hadn’t been this. Standing in the doorway of your shared bedroom, gun holster still attached to his belt and briefcase still in hand, it was all he could do to keep his mouth from dropping open as he stared at the display in front of him.

“Babe? What do you think?”

You were spread out on the bed, waiting for Hotch like an all you could eat buffet. The lingerie ensemble you’d chosen was one of his personal favourites, a royal blue chemise and thong set made almost completely out of lace that showed off the very best of your assets while still leaving something to the imagination.

This alone would’ve been a treat, but it was the swirls of golden pigment that decorated your arms, legs and collarbones that caught his attention. You’d seemed to have paid special attention to your inner thighs and breasts, with those two areas sporting the highest concentrations of gold. Each time you moved, the light from the bedside lamp made your skin glitter with an almost magical lustre. You looked inhumanly beautiful, like a piece of living art.

“Babe?”

Hotch opened his mouth to answer you, only to close it again seconds after. The sound of his heart pounding in his ears was making it difficult to think, let alone speak, and the fact that all the blood in his brain was now rushing straight to his cock wasn’t helping matters.

“Sorry, this was a bad idea. Let me get cleaned up and then we can just forget about the whole thing”

Not waiting for a response, you started gathering up pillows and blankets off the bed in a frantic attempt to cover yourself up. It was only when Hotch’s line of sight to your bare skin was interrupted that his few remaining neurons sparked to life.

Cursing softly under his breath, he dropped his briefcase and rushed over, hoping to catch you before you could flee into the bathroom. His fingers missed your wrist by inches, closing around thin air as you scrambled across the bed and slid off on the other side.

“Honey, wait!”

The sound of Hotch’s voice made you pause long enough to allow him time to catch up with you. As soon as you were within reach, he anchored one hand on either side of your hips and pulled your body flush against his. You offered no resistance, coming willingly into Hotch’s familiar embrace even though you kept your gaze trained firmly on the floor.

For a moment, the two of you stood there in silence, save for the sound of your laboured breaths and fluttering hearts. Hotch wondered if you were waiting for him to speak, to offer some kind of explanation for the reaction you’d misread as a rebuff.

Though you worked for the FBI, you weren’t a profiler. You wouldn’t have been looking for micro-expressions or subtle shifts in body language the way he did almost on instinct. At best you’d probably assumed he was too tired after his case for sex and just wanted to go to bed. At worst, you were now thinking he was a complete asshole who no longer found you attractive. Either way he’d dug him self a pretty deep hole and the only way to get out of it was to explain himself , but once again Aaron Hotchner was at a loss for words.

It wasn’t that he didn’t care that you were upset, he cared so much it almost hurt, but that didn’t change the fact that pulling you up against him like this had been a mistake. Because now, instead of coming up with an apology, his brain had become entirely too focused on the subtle brush of your hips against his to think about much else.

“Are you going to let me go, Aaron?” you asked, finally breaking the silence

“That depends,” he replied, his voice a little hoarse “Do you want me to? Or are you just asking because you think it’s what I want to hear?”

You sighed, the sound coming deep from the pit of your stomach, and blew a stray lock of hair out of your eyes. Hotch watched it flutter in the air for a moment, before reaching up with one hand to tuck it behind your ear. You leaned against his palm, some of the tension leaving your expression as you did.

“I missed you.”

A smile played about Aaron’s lips, and he leaned down to plant a soft kiss on your forehead. That wasn’t the answer he was looking for, and he had no doubt you were intentionally avoiding giving him one, but he was too intoxicated by the scent of your shampoo to care. He’d only been gone for a week, and yet he’d spent every day yearning for you like some lovesick teenager. Now that he finally had you in his arms again, he wasn’t about to let that be ruined by a foolish misunderstanding.

“I missed you too, honey. Now, are you going to be honest with me or are you going to make me chase you around the house a little first?”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, as Aaron’s comment brought up memories of wonderful nights past. It would be a lot of fun to squirm free and play the brat for a few hours before finally giving in, but your ego was still too bruised for that. All too quickly the smile fell from your face, and you began to bite anxiously at your bottom lip, a sign that Hotch knew meant you were far more upset than you were letting on.

“Sweetheart? Talk to me, please”

“I just-”

Your voice cracked slightly, and Aaron’s heart almost broke along with it. There was hardly ever a good moment to be a horny idiot, but this one was probably worst than most. You had gone out on a limb for him here, done something spontaneous and outside your comfort zone so he’d have a memorable homecoming. You’d been vulnerable with him and even though he hadn’t intended to, he’d all but thrown it back in your face.

“I…do you think this is stupid?” you continued, pulling back so you could look down at the golden sheen that adorned your skin.

“Well no, considering I’m not entirely sure what this even really is yet.”

“It’s…it’s edible body powder,” you blurted, your cheeks starting to turn pink “Honey dust, to be more specific. Penelope gave it to me. I wanted to…mix things up a bit. Make them exciting for you. I should’ve known you’d think it was dumb and-and vapid and-”

Any further self depreciation vanished the instant Hotch’s tongue touched your skin. It was all you could do to keep your knees from buckling as he licked a stripe up the column of your throat. His mouth was blazingly hot, and if the noises he made were anything to go by, he approved much more than you initially realized. The sensible thing to do now was to let him keep going until he’d licked every inch of you clean and fucked you six ways to Sunday, but unfortunately your brain wasn’t about to let you off that easy.

“Aaron hold on- Aaron, baby- could you please just-”

You had to grab a handful of Hotch’s hair and tug before he finally extracted himself from your neck, grumbling softly under his breath as he did. The way the heady sweetness of the paint combined with the salty tang of your skin was potent. He’d barely gotten a taste, and yet Aaron knew he was ready to get down on his knees and beg if it meant he could have more.

“You’re not stupid”

“I never said-”

Aaron brought a finger up against your lips, gently but effectively silencing you so he could continue. Biting back your annoyance, you let him, your sense of curiosity overcoming your wounded pride.

“Look, you’re welcome to spend all night arguing with me about it if you want, but I also know there’s plenty of other things we’d both rather be doing so I’ll make sure I’m clear about this. You’re. Not. Stupid. You’re brilliant, and gorgeous, and I am so incredibly lucky to have someone like you to come back to every night. ”

You thought about protesting again, putting Hotch in his place and demanding to know why he’d been able to walk in, find you waiting for him as you were and not crack so much as a smile. He was smiling now though, looking like the cat who got the cream while his eyes roamed freely over the golden shimmer that decorated your cleavage and neck. His hands were also doing their fair share of roaming, trailing across the lace of your chemise and slowly working their way lower. It was only when you felt him cup your ass that you relented slightly, letting out a small moan and dropping your forehead against his shoulder.

“Besides,” Aaron’s voice was soft and low in your ear, his breath warm against your skin “You worked so hard to set this all up. The least you could do is let me thank you properly.”

“I like the sound of that,” you replied, offering Hotch a warm smile as you brought your hands up to rest against his chest “Only…”

“Damn it, sweetheart, you’re going to kill me. What is it now?”

You laughed quietly, not even bothering to hide how much you enjoyed working big, mean Aaron Hotchner into a tizzy. If only the other agents at work could see him now.

“You still haven’t told me what you really think.” you said, as one of your fingers started to twirl around the end of his tie “About the honey dust, I mean.”

Aaron groaned, and affectionately rolled his eyes. The fact that you were being stubborn really shouldn’t have surprised him as much as it did.

“You’re still on that? I thought it would be obvious by now. I love it, though I’d love it if you were wearing a brown paper bag.”

At the sight of your furrowed brows and the hard line of your pursed lips, Aaron let out a sigh and gently grabbed hold of one of your wrists.

“Still don’t believe me? Look.”

With that, he pulled your hand down and brought it firmly to rest against his crotch. You gasped softly, feeling what was very clearly a massive hard on straining against the zipper.

“Holy shit,” you breathed, your eyes going so adorably wide Aaron had to fight the urge to smother you with kisses then and there. You’d been together for almost three years now, and somehow you were still oblivious to the effect you had on him.

“See? The reason I didn’t say anything before is because honestly, you had me too turned on to think. If I had been able to come up with anything besides “guh” and some drool, believe me I would’ve.”

For a moment you stood there, stunned and trying to process what Hotch had just said. Then, the laughter came. It bubbled up out of you like a freshly popped bottle of champagne and there just seemed to be no stopping it. Before you knew it, tears were streaming down your cheeks and you were clutching Aaron’s shoulders, trying to stay upright as your body shook with mirth.

He held you through it, his own laughter, rich and warm, soon joining your own. When the two of you were finally able to settle down, you found yourselves sitting on the floor, still holding each other for dear life. Your tears had carved a path through the honey dust on your cheeks, creating dull stripes in between the swaths of gold. Aaron was also covered in the stuff, with most of it on his lips and nose from when he’d had his mouth on you earlier. The sight set you off in a fit of giggles again.

“Oh god, baby, I’m so sorry,” you said, breathlessly between suppressed laughter “What a mess, and the bed’s probably a whole lot worse. This really was a stupid idea.”

You reached up and tried to wipe some of the gold powder off Aaron’s face, but only succeeded in dusting it down onto the lapels of his suit jacket. That didn’t seem to bother him too much though, and he caught your hand before you could pull it away. He pressed a kiss against your palm, deep and reverent, before licking up the tender skin on the inside of your wrist. You shivered with pleasure in response, and let out a soft moan.

“This is stupid,” Aaron agreed, moving to stand and gently tugging you to your feet as he did “And also kind of fun. Besides, we can always do laundry later and after the week I just had, frankly I could use a little fun.”

You gave Hotch a sympathetic smile, and allowed yourself to be lead towards the bed without any further resistance. Sure enough, you could see gold dust coating your navy sheets and comforter, most of it concentrated in an outline of where you’d been laying. Aaron shook his head fondly at the sight, before scooping you up in his arms and laying you out like you’d been when he’d walked in earlier.

As soon as your back hit the bed, you reached for Hotch, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a searing kiss. He lent into it eagerly, letting out a hum of appreciation as he felt your tongue brush against his lips. This was your first taste of the honey dust, and right away you understood the appeal. It was sweet. but not over powering, a nice little addition to Aaron’s already delectable kisses. With any luck, you’d be able to talk him into letting you cover him with it later on. The bottle said it could be put anywhere on the body, which had given you more than a few ideas you wanted to try out.

Despite the rough start, it seemed like the evening was heading towards a much more pleasant end. However, instead of climbing into bed and straddling you like you’d expected, Aaron suddenly broke off the kiss. Your eyes flew open and you propped yourself up on one elbow, watching has he turned away to walk back towards the bedroom door. His absence was already felt, your lips and body now caressed by the cold air instead.

“Aaron? Sweetheart?” you called out after him, trying to keep your voice calm “What are you doing?”

“Call it a do over,” he replied, flashing you a wide grin over his shoulder as he reached for the doorknob “An enthusiastic welcome deserves an enthusiastic reception.”

#easter event 2023 #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #criminal minds fic #criminal minds imagines #if you can tell me what the title of this is a spin on I will love you forever and ever

[butterfluffy]

Hello! :) Can I request a one piece x daki reader? Where the reader is just like daki and daki is really pretty. And so she shows her strength like her blood demon art and all and she can also regenrate, and so she meets: Katakuri, Luffy, Boa, Robin, Ace, Zoro and so what are their thoughts on her?

“demoness”

⠀⠀ੈ♡˳· various!op characters' thoughts on their s/o who is a demon like daki from kny!

⠀⠀➧ unlabeled | c. katakuri, b. hancock, n. robin, p. d. ace (separate) x f!reader | multi-character headcanons

⠀⠀➧ warnings — none, bit of violence though. mistakes may be present too.. so do ignore them, thanks!

⠀⠀➧ requests are closed until further notice!

⠀⠀꒰ 🍨 ꒱ notes: did something similar here, check it out if you want. but, it's the characs finding out that their s/o is a devil instead! ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

CHARLOTTE KATAKURI

with an s/o who's a demon!

“my wife is amazing, isn't she?”

mochi man is 100% just purely amazed of you, your beauty, your abilities—damn, everything, hon.

anyhow—on your beauty... kata is kind of smug with this, 'cause, you're the prettiest in totto land, and he managed to make you his.

sometimes flaunts you around with his hand on your waist, pulling you close to him to make others jealous, LMAO.

he's also pretty chill with all this... demon abilities of yours, like the regeneration and blood demon art stuff.

i mean, he literally lives on a world full of creatures with shocking traits and abilities, so it's not a surprise to him anymore.

and lastly, on strength.... we love a strong couple! katakuri absolutely adores your strength, loving how you can manage to defend and attack, like him!

to sum that up, kata admires you real lots, his demoness.

BOA HANCOCK

with an s/o who's a demon!

“...i am still a lot better than you, remember that!”

snake empress is a bit jelly of you, yk? though no one will know about that, she's keeping her thoughts to you to herself.

your beauty... is breathtaking, even for her, leaving her stunned for a second every time she looks at you

BUT OF COURSE, SHE WON'T SHOW, NOR ADMIT THAT, ESPECIALLY TO YOU, NOPE.

moving on to the abilities...! boa thinks that your regeneration ability is pretty handy, and weird 'cause—hello?? your leg just got ripped off, miss ma'am, then you're growing a new one????

low-key amazed by your blood demon art though. you get praises for that sometimes. pretty rare though.

last, strength—for the kuja's, strength is beauty. so she sees you worthy to be her s/o, being strong and beautiful like her.

in summary, a couple that slays together, stays together. xoxo.

NICO ROBIN

with an s/o who's a demon!

“you're truly something, aren't you, darling?”

impressed by you, just by existing there as a demon, her lover.

robin finds you very interesting for having such abilities that is non-human, interesting that she is researching about your kind!

thinks that her hana hana no mi ability and your ability to regenerate, looks, and title are matching and it's cute.

your strength is something she looks up on, being amazed each time you showcase it.

finally, your beauty. GOD, ROBIN PRAISES YOU A LOT BECAUSE OF IT.

don't blame her though, she can't help it, you're just so astonishing!

demon child x demoness best match, fr fr, no cap.

PORTGAS D. ACE

with an s/o who's a demon!

“hey everyone, that's my girl right there!”

proud, very, very proud to have you as his s/o who's level of amazingness is beyond lengths.

when you first showed him your ability to regenerate, ace's eyes widen, visibly shocked—soon amazed like a child watching a magic trick.

loves to watch you use your blood demon art, cuz he thinks it's real cool.

applauses your strength.

will sometimes go and challenge you into a small fight so that he could train with you, ahsahshaha.

and of course, ace, without a doubt, will be set a blaze by your blinding beauty that brings the sun to shame.

same with katakuri, he too, loves and admires your entire being.

© butterfluffy 2022

⠀⠀ʚїɞ · likes, comments, reblogs and/or feedbacks are highly appreciated!

#ੈ♡˳· butterfluffy #charlotte katakuri x reader #boa hancock x reader #nico robin x reader #portgas d. ace x reader #one piece x reader #one piece headcanons #one piece fanfiction #one piece

[the-fiction-witch]

Pouty

Media The Artful Dodger

Character Jack Dawkins

Couple Jack X Reader

Rating Flirty AF + Mild Smut

Warnings Gambling / alcohol

I sat on the well-stuffed armchair that I had moved over, replacing the cheap wooden chair of the card table with my usual parlour armchair, my bare feet on the soft rug, the fire crackling and popping to my side as it worked away at the wood and coal I threw on a few moments ago. My cards on the well-polished wood of the card table, the edges slightly buffed and worn down from people's arms, my cards face down showing only the patterned back, coins in the centre of the table stacked up nicely, his cards on the other side. He sat in his armchair, well it wasn't his but it may well have been, leant back with his usual fluffy hair, his white loose sleeve shirt, his blue waistcoat, his green tie undone allowed to hang low and his brown trousers,  his chocolate eyes leaving me with no place to hide, his smirk upturned on his lips. 

I sat similarly in my chair with my arms over my chest doing my best to look at anything but him, flicking my eyes around the room that was meant to be our parlour but my father merely used it as a card room, with tables, chairs, a bar to the side and as many games as could be imagined. We were... A little, not tipsy, nowhere near Pidgeon step, but... Giggly, and giddy. Which didn't help matters. 

He never moved his gaze though giving me very little choice in my proceedings. 

"I don't know why I play with you." I snapped pushing my cards into the centre folding, 

His smirk only grew as he moved the centre pile to his little pile proud of himself for his winnings, taking my cards and having a look before rolling his eyes "You had me going for a while at the start there," He smirked adding them along with his own back to the deck and beginning to shuffle them, "Again?"

"Alright," I sighed, as much as I didn't want to keep losing I didn't want him to go just yet, "I just need to be a bit careful..."

"Careful?"

"Umm... Last week someone took home my whole allowance!"

"Shouldn't bet it, if you not prepared to lose it." 

"And you live by that philosophy do you?" 

"I do indeed."

"No, you do not! I've known you to be in the whole for more than you make in a year?" I laughed "As I recall he was going to chop your hand off."

He smirked and very fragrantly moved his hands as he spoke making sure to draw attention to them "And do I have both still?"

"Yes, because you're a crafty little..."

"Ohh go on?" He chuckled leaning on his hand "I shall like to hear this,"

"You're a crafty little... fool."

"You're adorable" he smiled blowing me a kiss across the table as he dealt the cards I glanced at mine and had nothing but I wanted to keep him going a while, I did my best not to react watching him as he checked his own but god damn it he's good! not letting a single reaction make it's way though. He moved a coin to the centre so I did so too, back and forth this went on as the pile grew both of us constantly trying to read one another, I knew I didn't have much money left and I was no closer to knowing what he had so I folded before I lost everything and he smirked taking his winnings with a wide smile,

"Jack Dawkins, must you be such a .... Person." I sighed in frustration, 

"A person?" He smirked shuffling the cards again, 

"A... Person." I snapped,

"Aww, go on. you can do it. What am I?"

I know what I wanted to say but the words stuck behind my teeth

"Go on, I won't tell," He smirked winking at me as he delt the cards again 

"Dick." I sighed glancing at my cards and for once I had something good! really good! but I kept my face still, 

He laughed at me, "You are adorable. Come on you can do better than that" Not even checking his cards,

I huffed.

"Come on, I won't tell, I think it's cute when you swear. such a cute Wittle Wady saying the words her daddy won't Wet her." he playfully joked as he moved a coin to the centre "I'll even get you started. Cunt."

"Jack!"

"What?"

"You- You can't just-" I began,

"Cunt. See nothing happens. Cunt. god doesn't come and strike you down for swearing Y/n. He did... I would be in the pits of hell five times over by now."

"Dick." I sighed adding a coin 

"Yes, we've heard that one come on you can do better."

"I- I can't," 

"Your father's not here It's safe. I promise I won't say a word" he smiled adding a few more coins 

"Little fucker."

"Ahhh! there we go, Pouty little princess."

"I'm not pouting"

"Yes you are, you're mad at me. Awww pouty wittle princess mad I took her allowance?"

"I. am. not. Pouty."

"You're a ... " I began but I couldn't say it, he just glanced up at me expectantly "Bastard."

"Ooohhh sharp tonight Y/n" He smirked "Come on," he smirked as we had reached the point where I had no more money to bet from my weekly allowance but these cards were so good there was no way I could lose! So I slipped off my bracelet adding it to the pile "Very nice," He smirked adding more coins "Go on, how you gonna get out of this one?"

"Arsehole," I sighed pulling off my ring and adding it to the pile, 

"Confident little pouty princess tonight," he smirked simply adding more money, 

"Shit." I sighed as I had nothing else to bet with, "You open to an IOU?"

"Depends what it is," He shrugs slyly, 

"Half next week's allowance when I get it."

he smirked, "Why? I'll end up winning it when I come over anyway," 

"Please?"

"Alright" He smirked grabbing some paper from the bar and writing out and IOU "Go on," he smirked sliding it over so I signed it and added it to the pile, he smirked and simply added more coins "Ooohh now what are you going to do?"

"... Another IOU?" 

"For?"

"More of my allowance next week?"

"No."

"What?"

"If I take all of next week's allowance you have nothing to play with then. I'm just robbing myself of the future enjoyment of taking it." 

"Ughhh... what do you want then?"

"Anything I want?"

"Yes,"

"Anything?"

"Within reason."

"So all anything is on the table as it were?" he smirked leaning his elbows on the table, connecting his hands and resting his chin there, 

"within reason, you slimy little fish boy."

"Fish boy? Are you actually out of swears you know?" 

"Shithead."

He smirked still with the paper from the bar in handwriting on it in a way I couldn't see and slid it over licking his lip as he did, I took it a little confused and read it 

'IOU, One on the Lips Kiss. Signed _________'

"You're kidding?"

"I am not."

"Why?"

He shrugged "The sick twisted joy of forcing the pouty little princess to pucker up?"

"You're a dickhole."

"Oohh getting more inventive now. Take it or leave it." 

"How much do you value that?"

"Let's say to the value of four pounds?"

"Four pounds!"

"That's what the girls down the cat and bagpipes charge."

"Well, I ain't a girl down the cat and bagpipes jack, Twelve."

"Six."

"Ten."

"Nine."

"Fine." I sighed signing it and adding it to the pile, He nodded and simply added more money 

"Well, now what am I meant to do?" I glared 

He smirked glancing at the paper he still had on the table and I rolled my eyes, "Fine."

"Don't bet what you can't lose. You can fold at any time little lady." he chuckled writing on the paper and sliding it over to me waiting with an evil smirk, I flipped it and looked immediately turning red at the idea

'IOU, One lap sit lasting at least one minute. Signed _________'

"You want me to do what now!"

"Sit on my lap," he smirked leaning back in his chair slightly and opening his legs almost invitingly 

"One minute?"

"At least."

"Fine." I snapped signing and adding it to the now formidable pile 

"You must be very confident,"

"So must you" I smirked "...If I win? will you give me a kiss?"

"The IOU had no name so... Yes I suppose if you won they go to you."

"So you'd have to kiss me, Jack?" I giggled leaning on the table a little "And come sit on my lap?"

"I would, little concerned if I'll fit but yes if you win then I'll do it." He smirked "So... do you fold or are we going to keep adding here?" 

"Adding. Go on. You can choose."

"Ohh how kind of you princess" he smirked clearly getting a wicked idea writing on the paper and sliding it over so I took it 

'IOU, One Touch of an intimate area of the winner's choice. Signed _________'

"An Intimate area?"

"Yes,"

"Which would be wear?"

"Your tits. or your arse. Or your pussy if I was feeling like it." He smirked 

"And If I win?"

"My arse, or my cock."

"That still sounds like it would benefit you more than me." 

"Then I can't lose can I?" 

"How much?"

"fifteen pounds."

"Fine" I smirked signing it and adding it to the pile 

"Interesting you value a kiss at nine pounds but me fondling your tit is fifteen... I could in theory fondle your arse for less than the price of two kisses"

"Your turn" I smirked ignoring his comment and noticing he now had very little left to bet with so he slid the last of his money in "Not enough."

"Ohh come on-"

"Nope. you want to keep the stakes this high then meet them."

He rolled his eyes and slid over the pad and pen "Go on then."

I took the pen thinking for a moment this was all getting a bit intense but if I won! I got everything! and he was betting with my last three weeks' worth of allowance I had lost to him, as well as his recent winnings from evenings at the Cat and Bagpipes and wherever else he scampers off too to play cards that aren't just here with me when my father's out.  And I had to admit... the idea of winning and turning his perverted little request of me sitting on his lap and him touching my intimate places into something humiliating for him to have to sit on my lap while I slap his arse was too good to resist. But what to make him do, trying to think of what would humiliate him the most...

'IOU, One spanking session. Signed _________'

And I slid it over with a smile

"Uhh? So I'd get to spank you? That definitely sounds like it's more for my benefit."

"Does it?"

"yeah. That's hot as fuck!"

"No, winner takes."

"So, when I win I get to give you a spanking my pouty little princess?"

"If you win. yes. and when I win, I get to bend you over and give you a spanking"

"You'd really spank me?"

"I would."

"You can't even say cunt in your own house when your father isn't here you're going to bend me over and spank me are you?"

"I am."

"Alright" he smirked signing it and adding it to the pile quickly taking the pad back writing quickly and sliding it over 

'IOU, One tickle session. Signed _________'

"A what?" 

"I get to lie you down, tie you up. and tickle you to my heart's content."

"With my clothes on?"

"...some of them"

"To what end?"

"My amusement." 

"and when I win? I get to tie you up and tickle you?"

"If you win, yes."

"Alright" I smirked signing it and taking back the pad trying to think of something, and an evil thought came into my mind

'IOU, One orgasm. Signed _________'

and I folded the paper stroking down the fold line before kissing the fold and sliding it over to him, He watched me rather excitedly taking it kissing the fold line himself before opening it 

"Oh." He stopped short "Really?"

"Really."

"My pouty little princess wants me to make her cum?"

"When I win."

"And if I win?"

"You get one I guess, if that happens."

"You'll make me cum?"

"I will."

"How?"

"hands."

"Ohh no no."

"You're the one short on money. I get to decide."

"Fine. Hands" He smirked quickly signing away and adding it to the pile "Ohh look at that now you need to bet, so you fold or you bet?"

"Bet."

"Good girl," he smirked taking the paper and pen back and I didn't even need to check it really I knew what he was going to write and as soon as it slid back to me 

'IOU, One orgasm By mouth. Signed _________'

"So... when I win you owe me two?"

"One by hand, one by mouth to cash when requested." 

I smirked and signed adding it to the pile 

"Your turn, I'm not folding princess."

"Alright," I smirked taking the paper and pen, trying to think of something and then it hit me! god damn it why didn't I think of this earlier 

'IOU, full nude pose. Signed _________'

and I slid it back

"Pose?"

"Yep."

"why a pose specicily?"

"I can draw you."

"Draw me? why a cute little picture to keep under your pillow?"

"To display in town and humiliate you." 

"And when I win?"

"You can see me naked, I'm sure that'd amuse you."

"I'm a doctor. I see naked ladies a lot. Like... so much it's kinda boring now" 

"Boring?"

"It's just boobs. and a pussy. Yes, both of those can be spectacular but.. they are just boobs." He shrugs "Can I draw you?"

"Can you draw?"

"... I would try. and then I can put you up in my room above my bed" he winked 

"Fine."

"Deal" he smirked happily signing "My turn!" He smirked grabbing the pad back and quickly writing his own sliding the paper over 

'IOU, One Full Penotrational Sex Session. Signed _________'

immediately I turned red and he just smirked,

"No!"

"What?"

"No! No way!"

"Why not?"

"We are not betting with my Innocence Jack."

"Everything is on the table, you said so."

"No!"

"You agree to the IOU, Or you you fold." He smirked, 

"Fine." I sighed signing and smirking "I'll see you."

He smirked and revealed his cards, 

"...... you cunt." I sighed revealing my cards and he had beaten me!

He chuckled and pulled his pile of winnings to himself gathering all the IOU's and flicking them and then using them as a fan for himself "Well... isn't this just a lovely turn of events" He smirked taking one out and sliding it over to me "I'd like to cash this  one, Now."

I looked and it was the 

'IOU, One lap sit lasting at least one minute. Signed _________'

I sighed ripping it and throwing it on the fire before I got up and moved to sit on his leg, immediately he wrapped his arms around me pulling me to his chest

"Aww pouty little princess."

"I hate you."

"I know."

"You are an evil... conniving little man."

"I know" he shrugs "Now... what are we to do with the rest of our evening?" he smirked "Ohh. I have some ideas" he smirked waving his IOU's around suggestively "I have some rewards to cash" He smirked shoving the papers into the cleavage of my dress, grabbing my thighs as he stood forcing me to wrap them around him, so I quickly wrapped my arms around him so I wouldn't fall 

"JACK!" I squealed 

"Off we go then, princess. Don't worry you won't be pouty much longer" he smirked carrying me up to my bedroom... 

#thomasbrodiesangster #tbs imagine #tbs imagines #tbs smut #thomas brodie sangster imagine #thomas sangster imagine #thomas sangster #tbs #thomas brodie sangster #thomas brodie sangster smut #jackdawkins #jack #jack dawkins #the artful dodger #theartfuldogger #thearttfuldodger

[mistfallenmemes]

"𝚂𝙻𝚄𝚃!"

"Being this young is art."

"What if all I need is you?"

"Got lovestruck, went straight to my head."

"Got lovesick all over my bed."

"(I'm) lovelorn and nobody knows."

"I'll pay the price, you won't."

"But if I'm all dressed up, they might as well be looking at us."

"And if they call me a slut, you know, it might be worth it for once."

"If I'm gonna be drunk, I might as well be drunk in love."

"The sticks and stones they throw froze in mid-air."

"Everybody wants him."

"That was my crime."

"In a world of boys, he's a gentleman."

"We'll pay the price, I guess."

"You're not saying you're in love with me."

"You're not saying you're in love with me, but you're going to."

"It might blow up in your pretty face."

"I'm not saying 'do it anyway' but you're going to."

𝚂𝙰𝚈 𝙳𝙾𝙽'𝚃 𝙶𝙾

"I've known it from the very start."

"We're a shot in the darkest dark."

"I'm unarmed."

"The waiting is a sadness."

"(I'm) falling into madness."

"I'm standing on a tightrope alone."

"(I'm) halfway out the door, but it won't close."

"I'm holding out hope for you."

"I would stay forever if you say 'don't go'."

"Why have you led me on?"

"Why'd you have to twist the knife?"

"Why'd you whisper in the dark, just to leave me in the night?"

"Your silence has me screaming."

"You kiss me and time stops."

"I'm yours, but you're not mine."

"I'm trying to see the cards that you won't show."

"I'm about to fold."

"I said 'I love you'."

𝙽𝙾𝚆 𝚃𝙷𝙰𝚃 𝚆𝙴 𝙳𝙾𝙽'𝚃 𝚃𝙰𝙻𝙺

"You went to a party."

"I heard from everybody."

"You part the crowd like the Red Sea."

"Don't even get me started."

"Did you get anxious though?"

"I guess I'll never ever know"

"It looks like you're tryin' lives on"

"You didn't have to change."

"But I guess I don't have a say."

"It was for the best."

"The morе I gave, you'd want me less."

"I cannot be your friend."

"So I pay the price of what I lost."

"I cannot bе your friend, so I pay the price of what I lost."

"What do you tell your friends we shared dinners (and) long weekends with?"

"Truth is, I can't pretend it's platonic."

"It just ended, so..."

"She said to get it off my chest."

"I don't have to pretend."

"I don't have to pretend I like acid rock. Or that I'd like to be on a mega yaught with important men who think important thoughts."

"Guess maybe I am better off now that we don't talk."

"The only way back to my dignity was to turn into a shrouded mystery."

"Guess this is how it has to be now that we don't talk."

𝚂𝚄𝙱𝚄𝚁𝙱𝙰𝙽 𝙻𝙴𝙶𝙴𝙽𝙳𝚂

"You had people who called you on unmarked numbers."

"I let it slide like a hose on a slippery plastic summer."

"All was quickly forgiven."

"You were so magnetic, it was almost obnoxious."

"I was always turnin' out my empty pockets."

"I didn't come here to make friends."

"We were born to be suburban legends."

"When you hold me, it holds me together."

"And you kiss me in a way that's gonna screw me up forever."

"You'd be more than a chapter in my old diaries."

"And I can still see you now..."

"I know that you still remember."

"We were born to be national treasures."

"You told me we'd get back together, and you kissed me in a way that's gonna screw me up forever."

"I pace down your block."

"I broke my own heart 'cause you were too polite to do it."

"You don't knock anymore and my whole life's ruined."

𝙸𝚂 𝙸𝚃 𝙾𝚅𝙴𝚁 𝙽𝙾𝚆?

"I slept all alone."

"You still wouldn't go."

"Let's fast forward to three hundred takeout coffees later."

"You dream of my mouth before it called you a lying traitor."

"You search in every maiden's bed for somethin' greater."

"Was it over when she laid down on your couch?"

"Was it over when he unbuttoned my blouse?"

"Come here,"

"Was it over then?"

"Was it over then and is it over now?"

"Your new girl is my clone."

"And did you think I didn't see you?"

"At least I had the decency to keep my nights out of sight."

"Oh Lord, I think about jumping."

"I think about jumping off of very tall somethings."

"I think about jumping off of very tall somethings... just to see you come running."

"Three hundred awkward blind dates later."

"If she's got (blue) eyes, I will surmise that you'll probably date her."

"I was hoping you'd be there."

"I was hoping you'd be there, and say the one thing I've been wanting... but no."

#memes #roleplay meme #rp meme #meme #roleplay memes #rp memes #sentence starters #taylor swift meme #taylor swift rp meme

[chronicbeans]

Wally Darling with a Restoration Project Reader (part 2)

You found a picture of the boi!

TW: Scopophobia/Eye Imagery

🗞️ Daniel gasps in excitement, shocking everyone in the little circle you made on Finn's living room floor. He shows everyone a picture that was restored by Amy, saying "Look! We finally have a picture of just Wally Darling! Nothing is obscuring him, either! We have a good idea of what exactly he looked like!"

🗞️ He passes it around, with you being the last to hold and look at it closely. A large blue pompadour, yellow skin, a colorful outfit made primarily of primary colors. He has a smile on his face, which isn't surprising, to be fair. He also doesn't have a nose, which you think makes him stand out a little bit more than he already does compared to the rest. Something seems off about his eyes, though... Not as though they were restored properly, just... Something.

🗞️ Amy speaks up, chuckling "He has big hair, like Julie! Maybe they are kinda like a duo? The big hair crew! There was a picture that mentions that he and Barnaby are best friends, though, right? So that little guess might be wrong." Finn nods "Yep. Wally and Barnaby are best friends. (Y/N), can I ask something? (Y/N)? Earth to (Y/N)!"

🗞️ You shake your head in shock, looking over to him. You didn't even notice he was speaking to you for a moment. "Yeah, Finn?" Finn shakes his head slightly, muttering with a playful chuckle "Always spacing out..." He then speaks up, looking at you with a serious expression "Well, I have noticed how your mom hasn't been acting too kindly about all this, especially after you mentioned it was to restore Welcome Home. Do you... Think she knows something? Maybe you can take that picture to her after we photograph it and put it on the website?"

🗞️"Oh! That... I am unsure. I'll show it to her. I just think she doesn't really like my hobby. She's someone who is very... I don't know... Traditional when it comes to jobs? Would that be the right term? You know, doesn't see art as a job, or writing, like I do. You get what I mean?" Amy cringes. "Oooh... Yeah, I get it. I get it. That sucks."

🗞️ Daniel perks up "You write, (Y/N)? I never knew that! Can you help out with the blog? You can write some of the stuff on it about the show. I would myself, but my written English isn't so good..." You tense up, only to nod "Okay... I don't really like my writing, though. Finn is making the blog, right? He can go over what I write." The group seemingly all agrees to it, before you leave to show your mom the picture.

🗞️ As you walk out to your car, you look at the picture, again. Those eyes... something is off. You just know it. You stare at it as you get into your car. You almost can't stop looking. You put your bag on top of the picture, feeling as though you'd just keep staring if you don't cover it.

🗞️ It's a very short drive. Your house is only a fifteen minute drive from Finn's. You go inside, hearing your mother call out from the kitchen "I see that you finally came back! Dinner is almost ready. Come, sit at the dinner table." You take off your coat and boots, walking over to the table and placing the picture on the table.

🗞️ Your mother walks in, placing a tray of food on the table. As she does so, she sees the picture. Her eyes widen as she asks "Sweetie, what is that?" You grin widely, explaining "Oh, it's Wally Darling, from Welcome Home! He's the main guy, I think. Why do you ask? Do you recognize him?"

🗞️ Her face suddenly morphs into a grimace. Her eyes are locked onto the picture as she speaks, her voice sharp "Why are you trying to find out about this Welcome Home nonsense? You'll never know exactly what came before it was forgotten! It's pointless! Even if you find out a lot, you'll never know it all! Why risk your life in search of a puzzle, which will inevitably still have missing pieces?"

🗞️ Your eyes widen "Risk my life? Mom, what are you talking about-?" She cuts you off "If I tell you too much, you'll simply be more intrigued! I know how you are, sweetie! I love you, I really do. I know how harsh I seem sometimes... but I am that way because I know that you will just wander into danger if I don't correct you! So just... stop with this nonsense!"

🗞️ She storms off, crying out "Just eat your food! I already ate, anyways! Don't bother me with this foolishness!" With that, you hear her slam the door to her room shut. The table is now left empty, besides you, the picture, and the dinner she made. You become lost in thought. Risk your life? Over a children's show? What an odd assumption to make over a little mystery. Why does she think that you would be put in danger if you continued searching?

🗞️ She said that if she told you too much, you'd be more intrigued. Well, she already failed. As much as you are now terrified of what could happen, you are still so much more intrigued about this mystery. Looking down at the picture of Wally, you make a silent promise to figure out more about this show, no matter what it takes.

#welcome home #welcome home arg #wally darling #wally darling x reader

[peedpanties]

Hi! can you write a fic with Levi and a male reader that loves to make Levi sit in his lap cock warm him and make him hold :)

w/ lots of praise and kisses ofc

Hes just to cute how could you not torture him a bit? making him keep his legs open as you rub your hands over his soft tummy pressing on his bladder and playing with his pretty cock that so nicely came out of his vent

live laugh Leviathan 🥰🥰🥰

Live laugh Leviathan!!

I hope this is good, I'm not as practiced with writing as i am with making art. I'm used to writing really fluffy stuff so idk how tortured he is lol, it's really soft imo.

Levi had only been sitting in your lap for maybe twenty minutes, your cock buried in his ass the entire time while he faced you. He was getting squirmy. You had watched while he sat on your cock, gulping down the 2 bottles of water you pressed to his lips.

"Settle down." You command, placing a firm hand on his bladder that definitely does not help and has him clenching around you.

"I-i…" he gives you a pathetic look. You exchange it with one that reassures him he's allowed to speak. Never in your time with Leviathan have you ever discouraged him from speaking up, but he was just so shy still. Even though this wasn't your first time together, Leviathan still hadn't gotten used to it. It worked out, you loved reassuring him all that he needed. "My tummy is so full, I can't." He finished whining.

"Yes you can, pretty baby. All you have to do is ask for help!" You said, readjusting his bangs. The personal attention only made him squirm more.

He glances away, as if there will be something there that can help him.

"I'm right here, Leviathan, don't you want my help? I know you're so full, I can feel it right here." You emphasize your statement with a light press to his bladder that has him yelping. "But look," you continue when he looks back at you, "these poor cocks of yours are here all neglected. They need my attention, don't they?"

Levi makes a strangled noise as you run your finger from base to tip along one of his cocks. The lips to his vent quiver and release more slick. He ruts a little into the touch. You press your hands down on his hips.

"Try and stay still for me, okay baby?"

You scoop up a little bit of that warm slick onto your hands and work it down one of his shafts. The noises he makes are delicious. You use your other hand to tug on his chin and bring him in for a kiss, a reward for being so vocal.

Giving Leviathan a few pumps, he mostly manages to stay still until you swipe your thumb across the slit. You hold it there a moment until his shiver stops, a reminder that he's not allowed to let go yet.

"MC, i ha-have to go, please, pretty please??" You've barely started fucking him and he's already begging.

You give him another kiss and squeeze him lightly at the base of his cocks.

"Alright," you grin, "you can start moving at your own pace, sweetie."

Leviathan sighs in relief and places his hands on your shoulders to ground himself as he lifts himself off of your cock. Very slowly, and wobbly. His legs must be feeling weak from being so aroused and so full of piss. He swears he can feel the liquid in him slosh when he lets himself fall back down onto your length.

You're still playing with his cocks, paying special attention to the heads, lightly squeezing and pumping the tips of his cocks.

A couple more thrusts and then you feel a spurt against your fingers.

"Leviathan, you're leaking."

He moans in response; he stops fucking himself on you.

"'m sorry, didn't mean to, so full, i can- can feel you all the way- in my belly."

It's incredibly hot, the way he gasps in between phrases; so worked up. He's not even trying to stay still at this point. He's grinding down against you, hard against your hips, as if he is trying to be even closer to you.

The next time he lifts himself off of you, you pull out a little more, and buck up into his ass before he's fully ready, more of your cock sliding against his walls. More spurts dribble from his tips, and you begin fucking the piss out of him.

He doesn't make it through very many thrusts until you feel two warm streams pressed against your own stomach, coming in bursts each time your hips connect with the flesh of Leviathan's ass. He's moaning and whining nonstop.

"Look at this puddle, baby," you say, calling his attention to the floor. "You really did have so much inside you. My poor, poor baby." You coo at him. "You did so good for me, you held it for me even longer than last time! I'm so proud of you!"

He melts at the praise, unable to help the way he's clenching around you. He's still squirming, but no longer because he needs to pee.

"Thank you." he says, sounding exhausted. You hook your arms under his hips and he instinctively links his hands around your neck, ready to be carried.

You waddle over to the bed with your cock still inside, willing yourself not to come yet. You gently lay Levi down on the bed, letting his hands fall beside his head. You cage him in with your arms, making him feel so protected and loved.

"Can I move, sweetheart?"

He nods, giving you a look that says he might cry if you don't start moving soon. He's laying back and letting you do the work, but he's earned it. Besides, you both love it when he just lets himself be taken and used.

Leviathan is already such a fucked out mess, the slide is easy. The wet squelching sounds of your lube-and-piss-soaked dick fill the room, driving each of you crazy.

You give him no warning when you come inside, balling the sheets in your fists. He comes soon after, satisfied to watch from below you as you pump him full.

#obey me omo #obey me omorashi #obey me #obey me shall we date #omswd #obey me leviathan #om leviathan #levi #obey me x reader #male reader #p/iss

[canmom]

another night where i can't sleep...

it has long felt like, while in some respects certain things have come easy to me that most people find difficult, such as maths or computer shit or academic writing, in many other respects the rest of the world had a ten year head start on me. stuff like relating to other people, stuff like art and music, the basic activity of living. it's The Autism, and it's the habits I've accrued over the years.

head in the clouds, full of knowledge and theories and technical this and that, still that smoldering anger that's so abstract, aimed at the nature of the world and all the things that i don't know how to change. personally... i write and write and write on here, because i know how to write, i know how to talk about, i can expound and extemporise, but i feel like so often i don't know how to emerge from behind the scripts I've built up for navigating this or that situation, my ignorance of how I'm seen and what messages i give off, the idea of whatever it is people interpret me as (even those very close to me), and just... connect. see and be seen.

when i get the right kind of work of fiction, it feels like... at last, I've found someone who thinks in a way that i understand. this is what is so intoxicating about seth dickinson's books i think. the earnestness of the feelings that animate them, the way they construct people and motivations, the web of philosophical and scientific and emotional connections, the rhythm as they unfold into a desperate searching for the right question, the wicked humour and abrupt violence and the type of body horror imagery that they reach for. all of it feels like I've finally found someone who gets it. that's why i go crazy about it.

(and it means the world what seth has said about my articles - it feels like a mission.)

i don't know if i can expect anyone else to get what i get out of them. there are criticisms you can make - what i take as fearlessness you might call arrogance, overambition. my partner found it too sincere, too direct and 'mannered' in laying out what it's addressing. these are a matter of wanting different things, i suppose. it's not that i can't see why they say it, i just don't see any of it as a flaw.

but... because I've found that connection, because i want to reach back and say, i see what you're doing, i get it, i feel it too - i write the long exegesis articles, to hold it up to everyone and say look, see, this is how it works.

the last article in the series on The Tyrant Baru Cormorant was to be titled Replication, and it was supposed to attempt to ask how to draw out the spark that animated such books into existence. i had an outline in my mind, to talk about the fingerprints of sff culture of the 2010s and how it affected me and perhaps also seth - and about the determination to take the questions seriously, to push and push. the vulnerability to lay your soul bare.

but from there? i don't know what the answer is, only that i haven't managed to do it with any of the things I've created. what is my baru cormorant, my psycho nymph exile or serious weakness, my nier? what is the thing that only i can make, that will resonate with other souls in the dark? am i getting closer?

I'll keep searching.

I'm halfway through Exordia. i don't know how much I ought to say before the book comes out 'for real', but I'll definitely be writing a spoiler-light advance review. I'm so hooked. i can't sleep, even though i have to work tomorrow. it's 'just a book', but... it's what it's all about.

#baru cormorant #exordia #fiction

[jack-of-all-trades-21]

My brain came up with a very specific thing for Chishiya (which, beware, is my interpretation of his character), that kind of reminds me of something I've written before but this takes a very different route and also has a different format:

So my thought initiates from the idea that Chishiya definitely can be or become emotional, even if we might have not seen him much like it (or at all).

Since we share the same mbti I am kind off basing my things off of that, but it is also extremely humane to show bursts of emotions.

In short, he can for sure become frustrated when the moment calls for it.

When this happens, Chishiya might think that the universe is pulling his decisions and not him, like it is some sort of role he has to play because it fits the scene.

I think as an intj we are often watchers; Chishiya enjoys watching (much like we see him do during games in the show) and hopes not having to interfere with everyone's true nature. This is simply the most interesting and entertaining thing for him. So when he loses his temper or feels tears well up in his eyes he still feels like he is watching, whilst his body is driven by thing he "can't" control.

So I'm imagining a situation like the following: Chishiya is put into a spades game, and a difficult one at that. Normally he goes into games open-minded, though for this one he did not mentally prepare. Maybe it is due to his energy levels of that day or just his particular wish to do a diamonds or hearts game, but he really was not looking forward to an extreme physical challenge.

Additionally, and this is more for fun in my head, he is wearing his favorite white vest. This because he had a feeling beforehand it was not going to be an exhausting night, yet here he was proven wrong. He does not even acknowledge that this was a feeling; maybe too stubborn to admit that he was using his heart and not his head for once.

Then, it rips. His crisp hoodie is sure to not make it out this game alive. Normally he would stay pretty composed under things like these; his clothes are replaceable and it's not anything he could help anyway. Though today Chishiya feels a lot, mostly frustration and disappointment.

The sudden surprise and adrenaline that came with this game make him lose his composure. As much as he should be happy/satisfied to make it out alive, he is overwhelmed with negative feelings.

This only really happens when he is aware he can feel this way. For example when no other people from the beach joined the game. His surroundings allow his behavior; there were no other members of the beach in the game with for who he had to uphold himself.

And so the rip in his favorite jacket starts to resemble the crack in his normally perfect composure.

If we want to push it even further, we could introduce interaction with someone in the game with him.

With no clue on how they made it even out alive like him (their physique was not promising for spades games), there is someone by his side that is all too eager to aid him.

Their kindness and sociability almost trigger him more. Though he decides to play along. First, because they claim that they can fix his jacket. And second, because Chishiya just loves to see things play out.

He finds himself inside a makeshift atelier (it's just a room inside a rundown building but filled with all kinds of paintings and sculptures). The artist themself scurries across the room to a desk with coils of thread and such.

Now about Chishiya's scene partner: they didn't seem like the type that wanted to be defined or put inside a box. Though in the psychoanalyzing thoughts of Chishiya, he took a guess that they're numbing the pain and shock of the borderlands with their arts. After all, some attempt to deal with things you cant control by pretending to have control.

This way of living can actually anger Chishiya more than you'd initially think. I think this is due to a weird form of jealousy. He thinks he is not able to be as empathizing with anyone like them, let alone a stranger. However, he also believes it is in his nature to be this way (not realizing he can choose his behavior). He also knows that the kind stranger is dealing with things wrongly. Escapism in the borderlands is the dumbest coping mechanism he has seen anyone portray (probably from his realism standpoint). He could think you're wasting your time on materialistic and meaningless junk, whilst there are so many better things worthwhile (training, gathering food, finding a way out of the borderlands, resting,..). And the fact that you are a kind person makes it even harder for him. I am kind of reminded of Arisu here, also too kind for his own good if you get what I mean. Chishiya is at that moment so fed up with the idea that people like him easily can manipulate people like them.

Now how I see him out all of the things he is feeling can be through two ways. He either bottles up everything, can't sleep for a while due to all kinds of thoughts in his head he can't place, and remains like that until he can find logical reasons as to why certain things happened. Or, he snaps at the person he met, desperate to make them realize that the world they're in is real (or that it at least should be treated that way).

Chishiya assumes he's helping you out that way (like it's the thing he should be doing). Though how he then returns this favor is really up to how dirty-minded you view Chishiya.

(What better way to give someone a wakeup call of how real the world is by sharing physical intimacy?)

#aib #alice in borderland #alice in borderland fanfic #chishiya shuntaro #chishiya imagines #chishiya alice in borderland #chishiya x reader

[riftwirecrystal]

NINJAGO STARSTRUCK AU - SPINJITZU AT 25:00 OPENING

This is the opening of the Ninjago x Project Sekai Nightcord swap.

Hey guys, I worked hard to make sure I kept most of the character's traits present, while coinciding with N25's main story. It would mean a lot if you stopped by to read a bit!!

Harumi Yoisaki

"This isn't right. Maybe if I…? Yes, that works."

My name is Harumi Yoisaki. I am a digital composer.

I would be a second year student of high school, but I do not go to school. I live by myself and complete online courses. My parents used to work in music.

I work in a group. We meet every night on our night chat, Spinjitzu. Ever since my parents were hospitalized I promised to keep doing what they did.

I don't live in a very roomy apartment. I barely pay the rent. Sometimes I will forget to eat.

But, I continue. Because I must compose.

I visit my parents sometimes. They don't wake up. They never will.

Because they are dead. And it's my fault.

So I continue. And the cycle will go on.I must compose.

Even though sometimes it's hard, I continue. Because this is my place. I will save someone.

I just need to keep composing. And soon…I will be able to save someone from the same fate as my parents.

They went out to drive…

"No. I will not think about it. I will keep going. I must save someone…

"My screen lit up.

"Hey Rue, I finished arranging that part for you. Do you want the demo?"

It was from L. He arranges my music and adds lyrics.

"Yes please," I wrote back. He sent the file, and I pressed play.

A harsh, but sweet melody flooded the room. The composition flowed smoothly with the arrangements L did.

"Thank you, L. It sounds good," I typed.

"I'm glad. I think I'm going to log off," he typed back.

So early? That's weird…"Get some sleep! You must be tired, but it sounds good though," typed Nyad.

"Yeah, I heard you had class tomorrow, so rest well," added PIX.

Nyad works with our other member, PIX. Nyad does the art while PIX does the editing.

We post songs and music videos on our shared account, S25. Usually I get slightly more of the cut we make due to my living situation, but I still make sure to give them the amount they deserve too.

We've never met each other face to face, but I find joy in working with the three of them.

Even with that, I'm not doing this for fun.

I must compose.

Lloyd Asahina

I logged off the computer.

I am Lloyd Asahina, a second year high school student.

I glanced at the sheet of music on my desk, then the workbook that’s shoved to the floor.

Guess I should do that then, huh?

I slowly and miserably picked up the book from the ground, then placed it on my desk.

But I couldn't open it.

I didn't want to open it.

But I had to, didn't I?

I had to.

I ended up finishing the notes and assignments I was supposed to take next week.

Hopefully that will be enough…

My mother called from the hallway. "Lloyd? Are you still awake?"

"Yeah. Just finishing some things for next week," I said.

She softly opened the door. "Good. I don't want you being all caught up with those people online again. You know what happened last time. You're so talented and gifted, and I want the best for you… okay?"

It's hard to fight with her. I gave up a long time ago. Now I only hide.

"Yes, mom," I replied.

My mother is Dr. Misako Asahina. She is one of the most famous and world renowned doctors in the world. She has no interest in music, and expects me to take a similar career to her.

But I don't know what I want to do. I don't know who I am.

What do I want to be…?

But I continue to do whatever she says. I don't know why. I just can't defy her, no matter how hard I want to.

I'm supposed to be the best for everyone around me. Why stop now…?

I haven't known myself for a long time now. It's nothing new to feel like this.I can't help it. I still hate it.

But if that's the case, why can't I leave it…?Deep down, I knew the truth.I could not escape.

I have been forever alone.

I hate it.

I hate myself.

I have lost who I am.

Nya Shinonome

For forever, I have wanted to become an artist.

I have many names.

Nya Shinonome, for one.

But I can also be Kai’s sister, a little girl, the loner, etc.

I am all of them.

Yet I am none of what I want to be.

I do not go to school during the day.

I have never been able to choose my own path.

When I try, I am constantly told I’m not good enough.

I should give up.

I should stop trying.

I am not talented.

I am not valued.

But I persevere.

My destiny should be what I make. Not what anyone else says. I will be good enough. I can be good enough.

But am I really?

Yes, I always tell myself.

As I tell myself this again, I get a text message from PIX in the chat.

“Hey Nyad, can I see the storyboard you were working on for the next song?”

I quickly sent her the progress I’d made so far. “Here.”

“Thanks! You’re so talented, I’d never be like you,” she responded.

That made me feel a bit better.

Sometimes it does get hard.

Sometimes I feel like I can’t do anything right.

Sometimes I feel completely and utterly useless.

Sometimes I just feel like I want to disappear.

It’s the worst feeling in the world.

But I need to prove everyone who doubted me wrong.It doesn’t matter who tells me I can’t do it.

My parents, my teachers, my brother, none of them.

I will pursue my dream.

Even if it means I’ll have to fight all the doubts clouding my head.

Pixal Akiyama

I sighed.

Everyone else had logged off already.

What do I do now..?

I looked at my bag and remembered the schoolwork due next week.

"I really don't want to do that right now…"

I tried to ignore it and started working on the new music video. My name is Pixal Akiyama. I am a first year high school student.

I use my friend Nyad's art in edits for Rue and L's songs. Lately my inspiration has been lacking. I'm not sure why.

School life isn't much better either. It's been a while since I've talked to Sora… I noticed an influx in people calling me names and avoiding me too. I'm always excluded and made fun of.

I don't know why.

I miss my dad…

My dad is Cyrus Akiyama, a clothing designer with a very different approach to styles. He moved away to work for his company a few months ago.

I haven't had many people to talk to recently.

I miss talking.

It's been so long…

I miss having people to confide in. To run to. To trust.

No one accepts me. And no one will.

I am alone. Forever and ever.

#ninjago #project sekai #Pjsk #Nightcord at 25:00 #N25 #Lloyd Garmadon #Lloyd ninjago #Ninjago Lloyd #Lego ninjago #Ninjago fanfiction #Ninjago harumi #Harumi ninjago #Pixal ninjago #Ninjago pixal #Nya Smith #Ninjago nya #Nya ninjago #Proseka #25-ji Nightcord de #25 ji nightcord de

[orkbutch]

A Gender Feelings Dump bc i have my semi-public diary back now :)

I came back to tumblr because I got immediately obsessed with BG3 and knew I wanted to do it Proper Fandom Like. Possibly because its been a surprisingly nostalgic experience and the last time I was into something like this, I was on tumblr doing fandom (DA, fallout, ect.) so maybe its all regression, idk. But it has resulted in me drawing and writing the most I ever have in 6 years, since I left my bachelor of illustration and decided I couldn't do art as a career and I needed Real Work (tm) to live and meet my goals.

That has changed. I've realised I have been fighting my nature; I've wanted to be an artist since I was a child, and I was Always solely fixed on that goal. And one thing 6 years of drawing and creating a lot less did was... cut me off from a gender experience I have! Which I lowkey forgot about, and am now rediscovering? And its an odd (but also not odd at all) one that I gotta ramble about.

My name is Emmanuel Josephine [Redacted], and I picked Josephine because its my favourite name and because I was aware that sometimes, I simply am not... in Emmanuel headspace. Emmanuel is a Tom of Finland rough-housing cowboy priest. Which are often my vibes. But lately I have been a lot more Josephine, whose vibes are more ... 15th Century nun troubadour secretly in love with their fellow nun. Am I making sense? These are just vibes. Gender word association.

Anyway, I've realise these track to whether I'm more preoccupied, at that period of my life, with the outside world or my internal world. I phrase it that way because I don't want to imply that Emmanuel is just "Face", a social performance; I can be and am Josephine with other people. These aren't personality changes (Important to specify that because I have DDNOS lol), but maybe... the temporary moving of my perspective and perceptions.

I think when I'm feeling very creative and making a lot of things, I become very introspective; for me, art is always a conversation with myself. My Perspective and Perception inevitably shifts to be more internal. That makes me less responsive to social contexts, which is obviously a massive part of gender identity. And I just become a lot Less Gendered... I think?

Perhaps thats why Josephine is best described to me as a cloistered nun. I become less dysphoric about my body (because I think about it less) and I become fairly disinterested in having sex (though I am still just as interested in sexuality as a subject). I experience this broad, internal landscape that feels so intricate and distinct from the external world that it feels almost divine, or I guess metaphysical, even though I don't believe in anything spiritual. That is the shift in perspective; the internal world becoming the focus over the external.

Which, like... is this dissociation? I genuinely don't know. I have a dissociation disorder, so it would make sense. The separation from my dysphoria and libido, and the turn inwards, thats pretty dissociative stuff. I don't know. I feel pretty present. Its just weird.

I can't tell if this is an alternative experience that is gendered, what you may call A Gender Experirnce, or a dissociative episode (are the two really that different?), or more specifically, a regressive episode. Idk. Brains are wild.

#personal

[heronchildlove]

Ok, so I don't have the energy for a proper fic but I can't get this idea for a "drama student moonlighting as a live model for art classes to get some extra bucks" Matthew au out of my mind and it's gonna drive me crazy if I don't share it, so here it is. Under the read more cause it got a bit long:

Thomas heard Alastair is attending that specific art class but he is too nervous to go alone so he begs James to go with him.

James is all "Tom, I can't draw a straight line, WHAT am I going to do in an art class????"

He goes anyway because Thomas is his cousin and he isn't going to let him down and just resigns himself to drawing the worst fruit bowl any human has ever seen.

Except the teacher walks in accompanied by the most beautiful guy James has ever seen instead and he barely gets to register this is a life drawing class because he is too busy gawking at the guy and omg he just winked at James and his entire brain short-circuited.

The guy's name is Matthew and he is a drama student and he is very happy to be there and be able to help and of course the guy is an actor, James thinks, he looks like a renaissance painting and sounds like an angel.

The teacher sends the guy into a back room to get ready and James tries to pull himself together and pretend he knows what he is doing as he tries to set up his paper and charcoal. He was going to ask Tom for help but he is already busy trying to start a conversation with Alastair and he doesn't want to interrupt them but it's ok he thinks he has got this.

That is, until Matthew comes back in a robe and, and on a cue from the teacher, takes off the robe and does his first pose, and James thinks he is hallucinating because it seems like he isn't wearing anything under the robe.

Oh. My god. He isn't wearing anything under the robe.

He pokes Tom and very vehemently points that out and asks what the fuck happened with the fruit bowls and Tom just looks at him like he is crazy because of course there are no fruit bowls, he had told Jamie it was a live model drawing class.

James is pretty sure Thomas DID NOT tell him that and, even if he did, how was he supposed to know that meant it would be a nude model class????

Worst thing is that aside from some initial awkward giggling no one else seems to really care there is a guy naked in the middle of the room aside from James.

And yes yes he knows the human body is natural and there is nothing wrong with being naked and it's for anatomy practice and the artistic view and all that but James is 1 very much not an artist and 2 still very much attracted to the very naked guy in the middle of the room.

In fact there is nothing about him that takes away from the impression he is the most beautiful guy James has ever seen or will ever see again in his life.

James decides he is going to be the slowest artist to ever exist and spend the whole class on Matthew's face and not look down in any way until it all finishes.

(Though Matthew makes it pretty hard when the teacher gives him a break and he decides to stretch his arms out over his head for a bit).

James has never been happier for the end of a class than when the teacher announces that's it for today and that they can go and thanks Matthew for helping them out because it means Matthew is finally putting the robe back on.

James puts all the things Thomas had lent him away as fast as he can and wants to drag Thomas by the arm so they get away from there as fast as possible but of course Thomas is stalling so he can talk with Alastair a little more and James wonders if aunt Sophie and uncle Gideon would be very mad if he strangled their only son.

But as he is starting to consider just dragging Thomas away for real he hears a "hullo" and when he looks to the side, Matthew himself is there smiling at him and he gets torn between short-circuiting again and worrying that Matthew is there because he saw James ogling him and is about to slap him for it so he immediately starts apologising.

Matthew doesn't get why he is apologising and there is no way James is explaining that so he says it's his first class like that and he felt awkward for staring (which is true).

Matthew chuckles and says he wouldn't be trying to be an actor if he minded people staring at him. Specially other beautiful people with artistic souls.

James wonders if he is crazy or if Matthew just called him beautiful. He tries to deflect by saying he is also sorry for the atrocious drawings he made of Matthew because he isn't an art student and is just there to give his cousin moral support.

Matthew says it can't be that bad and tries to get James to show the drawings to him but that is one mortification James has no intention to go through, thank you very much.

The teacher calls Matthew back to discuss something for the next class and Matthew tells James he is going to keep helping out for the next 2 weeks and he would love to see him there again.

James gives a non-committal answer and vows to himself he is absolutely never ever setting foot on that class again.

(But when Thomas asks him to go with him again next class, the fight he puts up is just for show.)

#giggling kicking my feet up can't stop thinking about them #heronchild #james herondale #matthew fairchild #tlh #the last hours #tsc #the shadowhunter chronicles #fanfiction #sort of #original #nanda writes #modern au

[idleorbitals]

OF ep 2 watch through ...part 2

(part 1)

sand he was inviting both of you *so* explicitly what is your move here. sand will complain repeatedly about this into the next scene but no one asked him to cancel his date. baby is in denial

side note ray enjoying begging sand so much?? side note also this is how we find out ray blacked out and sand left him their last night together? ouch

ohhhkay the extensive flirting in the car. "one night stand boy, huh?" sand patently enjoying himself /so/ much but whining the whole way. they are both in trouble and neither of them know it yet but sand is going to find out really soon and ray is not going to find out until they both are in much more trouble

top has trauma-induced insomnia and he's serious enough about it to make this face. I'm still proud of mew for checking if he was trying to pull one on him and then being kind about it when it seemed like he wasn't

alright tho didn't we just establish that your much comfier bed is right over there? mew no one did this to you but yourself

I like these mockumentary cutscenes more than I thought I would. mew silently smirking as he checks off boxes is doing heavy narrative lifting and I'm into it

the foreboding music the lighting the lingering on the photo of ray and mew boston what are you planning?? is he about to become a real antagonist? can't decide how I feel about this

ray is sort of into sand insulting him? is this because he doesn't have the power to hurt him yet or masochistic kink

...ray baby no. you're gonna be Learning

sand brings up the /who are you, my dad?/ except this time it's /who am I, your dad?/ convo again and ray makes this face:

alright

alright

oh here we. fokking go

sand going "what am I supposed to be, your hooker" and ray saying "sure" and sand doing soft surprised pikachu for like ten seconds. ray doubling down and sand telling him to save it. instead of saying "I don't sleep with people for money" he says "I sleep with people I like for free" and we send silent thanks to screenwriters who understand the sex industry and have the cultural vocabulary to write compelling nuanced and still quippy conversations about sex. not to be heterophobic but queer people make better tv

anyway sandray are both playing a game and they both keep getting surprised to be one-upped. this is a very enjoyable dynamic to watch and they seem to be enjoying it too

...for now

at minute 8:30 sand's last vocal sound leaves his mouth. for thirty full seconds ray smokes and asks him leading flirty questions including "am I interesting enough for you?" and "are you open to someone like me?" and for thirty full seconds sand looks from rays right eye to his left eye and back again and lowers and raises his jaw infinitesimally and just generally:

this boy is done for and I can't even be mean about it I'm right there with him

anyway at shortly after minute 9 they break the tension and kiss each other. they kiss each other! ray is the one leaning around from his cigarette to do khaotung's little smoke plume of high art but sand is very much matching him in coming in for this kiss. I love this framing so much. firstkhao have the absolutely ideal dynamic to pull this off*

*if anyone saw that one person copy pasting SANDRAYYYY SWITCHHH into the live comment box the entire end credits that wasn't me but I was there with them in spirit

they break away and sand says if they go further they won't just be friends and ray says some kinds of friendship start from sex you watched the same thing I watched I don't need to describe it but here I am. do you remember though that this was the look ray was giving sand while he said that because ho boy

sand pronouncing that ray is going to keep wanting him but they're going to stay just friends right after he says we won't be just friends after this...what level to tackle this on. narratively this definitely feels like foreshadowing and I think he's right on the money on the first bit. but we know that sand is not going to get out of this remotely unscathed whether or not it could possibly be argued that he hasn't already lost that battle. sand showing his hand by contradicting himself out loud as well as internally?

they stub out their cigarettes Significantly and start making out again. can't coherently screencap this scene. it's so excellently done. top notch dynamic again. firstkhao are getting better at this with every go.

ok I do have one minor gripe

for some reason in the middle of sand pushing ray back onto the couch they have inserted a shot of ray on top of sand. it is from the beat that comes after the last little mockumentary cutscene—it's not a double, it's the exact same shot, just colored differently. screenshots below from 10:11 and 11:02

editing mistake? intentional insert to lengthen the scene? I like this shot too but it breaks up the flow of the scene oddly and I want it gone from the first part

mockumentary cutscene: even harder to focus on when I know what's coming back on screen right after but worth mention. obviously sand is reflecting on some past mistakes here. he knows he's playing with fire and he's denying it vocally and also not changing his behavior. self-awareness level relatable honestly. do we think he fell in love with someone he didn't want to? or fell in love freely and then got screwed over? why is he mr. one night stand boy

also don't know whether to credit ray or khaotung for this longest gayest look ever at his own pants. sublime

okay back to the couch for our not-quite-ten-second final indulgence. ray's on top this time. I don't even like sex scenes that much I know what I am saying

I see, like sand's, my words are not matching my actions. and yet

*trembling* sandray.... switch....

all ofts watch throughs

#ofts #only friends the series #ofts meta #firstkhaotung #raysand #sandray #that devolved a little #also it took me so long to finish i took two breaks and posted snippets forgive me #i'm overflowing with um. i don't even know #consider me truly fucked over by this show #where did my saturday go anyhow #ofts watch through

[themissakat]

Hi! First off I jut wanted to say I'm a huge fan of your work. Your art inspires me so much and I love all of the fanfics you've written. Especially pieces of you. Anyways, I was wondering if you have any tips for beginners. Anatomy wise I mean. I'm not very good at Anatomy and was wondering if you had any tips? That's all. Keep up the great work!

thanks so much!!

man i love talking about learning How To Art, lets get to it *breaks my knuckles*

I did a quick tik tok a hot minute ago rambling on my process with figures:

I am trying to narrow down my thoughts and i think that overall, human anatomy is easiest to grasp by starting simple, then narrowing your focus.

as i mentioned in the above tik tok, simplification of shapes can really help, as well as memorizing general proportions of the body. even if you cannot draw the specific detail of, say, the musculature of a neck, or every single finger joint, if the structure is there and is generally in the right place, it will be far more helpful.

my favorite phrase in regards to developing skills and then style is, "you need to learn the rules before you can break them."

Observation and reference is super important, especially with something as complex as the human form. Frequently refer back to real people, pictures, references.

(If you are able to, I recommend trying to attend sessions with live models. If you can't there's lots of websites that give a similar structure to those sessions, but with photos instead (most sites give an option to exclude nude pictures as well which can be nice). (here's one i found by googling "figure drawing")

To practice simplified anatomy, i would probably recommend gesture drawing, just very quick and loose doodles from reference (with the above type of website, 60 seconds a pose or less!) to help get an idea of your basic shapes and proportions. (Some examples below!!)

Reference is very much your friend. if you do have a specific pose in mind, ask a friend to pose for a picture, or take one of you! (or be like me and use a webcam, because you've already got a tripod for it, why not)

(tracing from photos can also be a good way to learn! though it is important to remember that it should be used as a LEARNING TOOL, not as a means to produce a final piece of artwork.)

my final note for this long ass ramble is that, often times people will pass along tutorials from other artists. HOARD THESE. so many people have really good tips for shortcuts, or how they think about things! (for example, this artist, Meg Syv, is someone whose work i really admire, PLUS she retweets a lot of tutorials as well as posts lots of WIP work, which gives some insight into her process!) (i think she's been coming back to Tumblr as well, @/bludragongal ) okay i think that's all i can word vomit for the moment. TLDR: Observe and Reference from Life, Simplified > Complex, Create a dragon hoard of tips and tutorials that other kind people post online. HOPE THIS HELPS!! All the well wishes for your art journey!

#ask missa #missa rambles #i dunno if this is an appropriate tag but #art talk #anatomy #art tips #yall i love talking about learning how to draw

[crabonfire]

hi . twirls hair nervously . idk if you're still taking requests but it would be so Awesome to see how the mercs would react to their s/o being an artist, like they see em painting or smth . preferably amab if That's ok .. (ngl im mainly doing this for more scout stuff .) + I LOVE YOUR WRITING SM makes me kick my feet with joy

heyyyyy!! giggles like a schoolgirl

TOTALLY! I'm always down for requests, just as long as they aren't too specific / out of my comfort zone :)

also I'm so glad you like my stuff!!!! it makes me very happy that you do heheheheh :) I'm also an artist so I'd love to write this!

ps I love scout so I understand we need more scout stuff tbh!!!

Mercs reacting to an artistic S/O!

warnings: none!

characters: all mercs

note: reader is amab in this one, gender isn't specified much but just wanted to let u know :)

oke so the situaaation ‼️‼️

Merc had noticed that for some reason you would be in your room all day, before and after matches. He didn't really ask about it, because you still spoke to him a ton. One day though, he walks in on you...doing art??!?!?!?! Wow!!!!

♡Scout♡

• holy crap...are you PAINTING??? WITH BRUSH??? WUTH??? BRUSHHSHSH??? STROKE?? WHAT AM I SAYINF

• omg!

• without saying anything, he comes closer to see what your painting. he admires it for a moment, it's so...wow

"Woah, this is amazin'...you neva told me you could paint!"

"Well...yeah! I do paint. It's just a hobby to release some stress, you know?"

"A hobby??? I thought Picasso made this or somethin...this is so good!"

• Hes also pretty artistic himself! He draws a ton, so he's very excited to find out that your just like him fr!

• He will be so enamoured by your art, asking if he could see more and even ask if you could teach him. The way you so delicately work on the canvas with that glimmer of creativity in your eyes, he can't help but be head over heels by it.

"That painting is so cool babe, just like you."

"Man, what's up with you today? Your so corny."

He pulls you close to him, wrapping his arms around your waist making your hands rest against his chest.

"Yer so handsome too, you know? Even more than the painting."

"You dork. Your just egging me on."

"Nah, I really mean it. Your the real masterpiece here."

He peppers you with kisses making you giggle at the sensation. What a guy.

♡Soldier♡

• when he enters your room to find you sitting at your desk, he thinks your working at first.

• but when he steps closer to see your drawing, oh my lordie lord

"WOW! WHAT IS THIS CADET?"

"OHFUCK-solly you scared the living shit outta me- I'm uhh...drawing."

• he takes the paper and inspects it carefully, a grin on his face. wow! this is so cool S/O :)

"It's just a sketch, but I've been meaning to practice more on my anatomy."

"THIS IS AMAZING! YOU MUST SHOW IT TO EVERYONE."

"Ah, thanks but nah. I'm not finished with it...plus I think my art kinda sucks."

"WHAT? NO. THIS IS VERY GOOD! I LIKE HOW YOU DREW THE FACE, IT IS FULL OF EMOTION!"

"Huh...thank you Jane. I appreciate it."

• he watches you draw a lot, and gets so happy when he finds out you draw him. if you give him any of your art, he will frame it in his room and show it off like a trophy. he finds it so cool you draw, wow.

♡Pyro♡

•WOWOWOWOWOOWOWWAAAAWWWWWWOAOOAOAOAOAOOAW?!?!?!?!? WWOOWOWOWOWOWOWOOWOW SO COOOLLLL!?!??!?!!

• oh m gosh...u draw...like...like he does..??? OH MH GOOOOODSSSHHHHHHHSH

"mmmfhh mffhh mmhfhh mmmfhhd!!" (This is so cool!!"

"Oh thanks man! I appreciate it."

"Mmmh mmh mmhhhf mmhd mmh? mmhfh??" (Can I draw with you? Please??)

"Yeah! That'd be nice. I've always wanted to draw with someone."

" the happiest squeal that has ever come out of any man "

• you two draw together all the time, heck youll even collaborate on the same drawing and it always makes him so happy when you do. if you ever draw you two together, he will cherish it forever and just like soldier, frame it. Though he wouldn't show it off, he would wanna keep it to himself :)

♡Demo♡

• hold up wait a minute

• you paint? oh my god you paint?? you...you paint???!?!?!?!??!??!?!?!?!?!!??!

• he's very surprised and very proud, he's like "HELL YEAH MY BOYFRIEND PAINTS LETS GOOOOOO!!"

• "Lad, you did this?"

"Oh-pff yeah. I don't paint as much as I used to but it's fun to do."

"This is amazing. Your so amazing, why haven't ye told me ye painted?"

"I didn't really think it was a big deal, nobody really knows."

"Big deal? This is gorgeous. You should show off some more."

"Hahdhfh thank you."

• talks about it a lot, practically shows you off like a medal when the topic is even related to it. He loves watching you paint and will even ask if you can paint him so that he can keep it and show it to his mother. He's so supportive of it and buys you the best art supplies, encouraging you to paint more. he's so proud of u omg.

♡Heavy♡

• when he finds you drawing he's very interested! he doesn't ask much about it, but watches you sketch. how you lightly press onto the paper when you want a soft feel to it, and when you press rougher for a thicker line, it fascinates him how you can be so talented.

When your done, he'll ask about it.

"May I see?"

"Oh, of course!"

He inspects the drawing, admiring how well you cleaned the linear and how well the shading blends in. He smiles softly

"This is beautiful. You are very talented."

"Aw-thats sweet, thanks babe."

"Da. Do you have any other drawings?"

"Oh totally! Wait lemme get my sketchbook."

• he let's you ramble on each piece, listening intently as he carefully flips the pages over. he's so amazed by it all, even asking if he can keep some of them.

• if he ever finds out you drew him, he will be so so soooo happy! he will have a very big smile and give you a big big hug. he will keep it secure, and tell his family about it. even giving some pictures of your art to show them in letters. he's very into your art, please draw for him more.

♡Engie♡

• woah, you draw? that's so cool.

• he's very happy, he draws himself but it's mostly blue prints for his machines. your art is so sick! my guy this is like...the shit that belongs in like...a fuckin museum. so...so cool

"Darlin'...this is amazing! Did you draw this?"

"Oh yeah, I draw when I got the time to."

"I had no idea, this is wonderful. Whyd ya never tell me?"

"Oh, I thought it wouldn't be interesting."

"Sweetheart this is too good to not be talked about, its an amazing talent and I guarentee I'd love to hear about it."

"Aww, Dell..."

• show him your art please. he loves to just admire your stuff, inspecting every single like and so appreciative of how much time you put into each drawing. even if it's a small doodle or an unfinished piece, he will cherish it and motivate you to do more.

• draw for him? actually freaks out. Will keep a special folders full of all the drawings you give him, keep it in the special safe he made just for stuff you give him. draw any of his machines? bro will actually smooch you so hard man...pucker up LMAOOOO

♡Medic♡

• fascinating!

• he watches your painting, your quite focused on the strokes and he finds it very cool. he doesn't say anything, just watches you. it feels a bit awkward but he's honestly just really into it.

"Zhis is wonderful! Jou should sell zhem. I bet zhey would be bought by anyone who saw zhem."

"That's sweet Medic, but I don't think I'm that good."

"NONSENSE! Jou are an excellent painter, I am delighted to know jou have talent in such fine arts. Zhis is not a small thing, mein liebe."

"Haha, thank you Ludwig."

• he will ask if you can paint for him, not forcing or anything but he is obsessed with your style. if you ever paint him something, anything at all, it will be in somewhere safe, probably his room. By his desk, so he can look at it while he works.

he thinks it's awesome you can paint, will ramble to heavy about it.

♡Sniper♡

• WOAHHHHH BUDDY YOU DRAW???@??!?!?@?@!?!?!?!?!?!? that's so fucking cool!!! Holy smokes

• he will be amazed, how did he end up with someone as hot and talented as you? My GUYYYYYYY he's even more in love with you than before which he thought wasn't possible.

"Roo...this is...amazing. I didn't know you could draw."

"Well-yeah! I just do it in my spare time."

He sits by you and continues to watch you draw, he likes the expressions you mimic when your drawing it on the paper. he thinks it's adorable.

if you ever draw him or for him, he will be a bit flustered.

"For...for me?"

"Yeah! I know it's sorta random but I really wanted to draw you something. Sorry if this is uh...weird and stuff."

"NO! no no, it's...its amazing. Thank you love."

He will be so red and so honored, he will have a bunch of your drawings lying around in the camper, one pinned to the wall of the van for him to look at. He keeps a doodle you made of the both of you in his pocket and looks at it whenever he misses you. He loves you soo much ughhhshhdfhfhf SNIPER MY BELOVEDDDD

♡Spy♡

• mf

• just when he thought he couldn't adore you even more than he already has, and you decide to be incredibly cool and awesome by your art

• you fucking DRAWWWW???? OH MH GODDD

He sneaked into your room to surprise you but he's the one surprised to find you drawing him. He stands by you as you smile at the finished product. Dammit you fucking KILLED HIM

the smile you have on your face at the drawing you made of him is actually fucking murderous it's so fucking cute he's going into cardiac arrest

he reveals himself, leaning into the table and taking a look at your drawing.

"HOLYSHIT- SPY WHAT THE HELL."

"Ma cher, this is wonderful. I never knew you had such a talent."

"OH-uh yeah! I draw...but also my fucking god dude your gonna kill me one day."

"I apologise, I merely wanted to surprise you. But it seems you have surprised me with your artwork. Do you draw me often?"

"I...uh...well-i mean-"

He finds it sweet you drew him, watching you get nervous and tounge tied. He will stop the teasing though, to admire your artwork. he's so...ighdhdhfhf why do you do this to him he's literally freaking out internally rn

like bro might be all cheeky and sly abt it but he's so...he's so jsjjf..HEHSHSHDHD... the urge to kiss you is strong

• he will buy you the best art supplies. after all, you deserve only as such. he will actually frame every single drawing you give him. I'm serious like they're gold plated, some are in his smoking room for him to admire and some are in his room to wake up to. bro is so INTO YOUUUU UGHHHHHHHHHHHHH stop it!! stop being so fucking cool!

I hope u enjoyed this! Sorry if its shorter than my usual ones, but yea!!!!!

#tf2 #tf2 headcanons #tf2 scout #tf2 soldier #tf2 pyro #tf2 demo #tf2 heavy #tf2 engineer #tf2 medic #tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #tf2 x reader #i love men #tf2 scout x reader #tf2 soldier x reader #tf2 pyro x reader #tf2 demoman x reader #tf2 heavy x reader #tf2 engineer x reader #tf2 medic x reader #tf2 sniper x reader #tf2 spy x reader

[fabledresources]

𝟏𝟗𝟖𝟗 ; a collection of prompts from taylor swift's 1989 tv! some prompts might have been slightly adjusted to work better as dialogue, but most remain unchanged!!

"𝐒𝐋𝐔𝐓!"

" being this young is art. "

" what if all i need is you? "

" got love-struck, went straight to my head. "

" got lovesick all over my bed. "

" love to think you'll never forget. "

" lovelorn and nobody knows. "

" i'll pay the price, you won't. "

" if i'm all dressed up, they might as well be looking at us. "

" if they call me a slut, you know it might be worth it for once. "

" if i'm gonna be drunk, might as well be drunk in love. "

" send the code, he's waiting there. "

" the sticks and stone they throw froze mid-air. "

" everyone wants him, that was my crime. "

" the wrong place at the right time. "

" i break down, then he's pulling me in. "

" in a world of boys, he's a gentleman. "

" you're not saying you're in love with me. "

" you're not saying you're in love with me, but you're going to. "

" it's a big mistake. "

" it might blow up in your pretty face. "

𝐒𝐀𝐘 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐆𝐎

" i've known it from the very start. "

" we're a shot in the darkest dark. "

" the waiting is a sadness. "

" i would stay forever if you say don't go. "

" why'd you have to lead me on? "

" why'd you have to twist the knife?

" walk away and leave me bleeding. "

" why'd you whisper in the dark just to leave me in the night? "

" your silence has me screaming. "

" you kiss me, and it stops time. "

" i'm yours, but you're not mine. "

" i'm trying to see the cards you won't show. "

" why'd you have to make me want you? "

" why'd you have to give me nothing back? "

" why'd you have to make me love you? "

" i said i love you, you say nothing back. "

𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐖𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐊

" you went to a party, i heard from everybody. "

" you part the crowd like the red sea. "

" don't even get me started. "

" did you get anxious, though? "

" i guess i'll never, ever know. "

" you grew your hair long. "

" you got new icons. "

" from the outside, it looks like you're trying lives on. "

" i miss the old ways. "

" you didn't have to change. "

" i guess that i don't have a say now that we don't talk. "

" i call my mom, she said that it was for the best. "

" remind myself the more i gave, you'd want me less. "

" i cannot be your friend, so now i pay the price of what i lost. "

" what do you tell your friends we shared dinners, long weekends with? "

" truth is, i can't pretend it's platonic. "

" i don't have to pretend i like acid rock or that i'd like to be on a mega yacht. "

" guess maybe i am better off now that we don't talk. "

" the only way back to my dignity was to turn into a shrouded mystery. "

" guess this is how it has to be now that we don't talk. "

𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐁𝐀𝐍 𝐋𝐄𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒

" you had people who called you on unmarked numbers in my peripheral vision. "

" i let it slide like a hose on a slippery plastic summer. "

" all was quickly forgiven. "

" you were so magnetic, it was almost obnoxious. "

" flush with the currency of cool. "

" i was always turning' out my empty pockets. "

" i didn't come here to make friends. "

" we were born to be suburban legends. "

" when you hold me, it holds me together. "

" you kiss me in a way that's gonna screw me up forever. "

" i had the fantasy that maybe our mismatched star signs would surprise the whole school. "

" you'd be more than a chapter in my old diaries with the pages ripped out. "

" i know that you still remember. "

" we were born to be national treasures. "

" you told me we'd get back together. "

" i broke my own heart 'cause you were too polite to do it. "

" you don't knock anymore and my whole life's ruined. "

𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐓 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐎𝐖?

" i slept all alone. "

" you still wouldn’t go. "

" i see your profile and your smile on unsuspecting waiters. "

" you dream of my mouth before it called you a lying traitor. "

" you search in every maiden's bed for something greater. "

" was it over when she laid down on your couch? "

" was it over when he unbuttoned my blouse? "

" was it over then? and is it over now? "

" your new girl is my clone. "

" and did you think i didn't see you? "

" at least i had the decency to keep my nights out of sight. "

" only rumors about my hips and thighs and my whispered sighs. "

" i think about jumping off of very tall somethings just to see you come running. "

" say the one thing i've been wanting. "

" if she’s got blue eyes i will surmise that you’ll probably date her. "

" you search in every model’s bed for something greater. "

#rp prompts #roleplay memese #sentence starters #sentence prompts #this might as well be a swiftie prompts blog at this point my bad y'all-