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#writings by juls
websterss · 11 hours
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𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐓 — 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
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𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: Even the healthiest flowers wilt one day. It’s nature’s way of teaching us that nothing lasts forever. Azriel learns that the hard way.
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒): fluff, angst, mentions of being poisoned, mentions of dying, he fell first trope, idk what else?
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 6,107
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Azriel x fem!Reader
𝐀/𝐍: I hope you enjoy it! Let me know what you guys think throughout the series! Guys I learned to animate on photoshop asdfghjkl so I made the header for this masterlist lmfao. Anyway...surprise it's a mini-series yay! Don't know how many parts. I also don't do taglist!
𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒:  ‣ Part 1 ‣ Part 2 ‣ ???
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‣ 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐓𝐎: 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐒
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cranberrymoons · 8 months
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a love to last past saturday night
here's the first 3,500-ish words of the coffee shop au i've been working on!
There’s a little cafe at the end of Steve’s block that he’s only ever been in once. 
It’s called Corroded Coffee and it’s dark in there and maybe a little pretentious, but not pretentious as in… people reading classic novels or having discussions about French Cinema. Pretentious in the sense that there’s an intimidating collection of vinyl records taking up half an entire wall and they use single origin arabica beans and the scary baristas look at you sideways if you order regular milk in your latte. 
He knows this last part because the one time he did stop in, shortly after he moved to the neighborhood, he asked for an iced vanilla cold brew with cream, and the redheaded girl behind the counter looked him up and down as she punched his order into an iPad. 
“Okay,” she said slowly, disdainful and bored like she was barely concealing an eye roll. “I guess that’s eleven dollars, if you’re sure that’s all you want.”
Steve was sure. He was also sure that he’d never forgive himself for spending so much on a single cup of coffee that he could probably make at home for about fifty cents, but… support local businesses? Use his company card? Also, he was too embarrassed to tell her to cancel the order. 
So. 
Anyway, it’s about three months later when he goes in there for the second time. This time, it’s because his coffee pot broke (a shitty off-brand Keurig that he bought on Amazon for about twenty bucks, which for the record is less than the cost of two iced coffees from this place), and he really has to get to work, and the coffee at the office is – fine, actually, but – whatever. 
Whatever.
The coffee in the office is fine, but he’s walking toward the train feeling like his hair and his tie are somehow both on sideways, and a customer pushes out of the café and into the street, bringing with them a wave of caffeinated air, and before Steve has the chance to make a conscious decision one way or another, he’s standing inside the shop, eyes adjusting to the sudden shift to dim lighting.
When he comes to his senses, there’s a brief moment where he considers just turning around and walking right back out, but before he has a chance, the guy behind the counter leans an elbow against the shoulder-height glass pastry case and says –
“Hey man, what can I get you?”
Too late. 
Steve blinks and focuses on him. He’s tallish with long hair that’s been pulled back into a puffy knot on top of his head, dish towel slung over his shoulder, indecipherable band tee, nails painted black, a flock of bats and a long line of perfect crescent moon phases running up his forearm, and – yeah. Steve, in his crisp Brooks Brothers button-up and ironed slacks, is definitely not the right kind of cool to be coming in here.
“You do want coffee, right?” the barista prompts. He raises his eyebrows in question. “I just watched you Pepe Le Pew your way in here, so.”
In spite of himself, Steve laughs. Call it the exhaustion. He takes a step closer to the counter. 
“You saw that?”
The man grins. “You’re hardly the first exhausted corporate zombie to stumble his way through my door.” He reaches for a paper cup, pen in hand. “What’ll it be?”
“Just – coffee?” Steve suggests, then he flushes. “That was dumb. Sorry. I uh – I don’t really know much about coffee. Just a normal one with milk?” Then, remembering last time, he says, “Oat milk. I guess.”
“One drip with oat milk, coming up. You want a muffin or anything with it?” He taps the glass case with the end of his pen. “These just came out of the oven. The cranberry orange.”
“Oh, I –” Steve eyes the muffins in the case, crystalline sugar on top, shiny and perfect-looking. He does kind of want one, but he pictures himself juggling it and the coffee and his phone and – “No, that’s fine. Just the coffee, thanks.”
The man shrugs. “Suit yourself.” He punches a few things into the iPad then flips it around for Steve to pay. “Three seventy five.”
Steve narrows his eyes. That… can’t possibly be correct based on his last experience with the place, but he taps his card and punches in a tip, then nods to the barista as he shuffles off to the end of the counter to wait for his drink. He sends another look toward the muffins, and his stomach grumbles; maybe there’ll be leftover bagels in the office from the morning’s sales meeting?
By the time his coffee is ready, he’s lost in a very detailed fantasy about veggie cream cheese, and the barista has to wave to get his attention to pass him the cup. When Steve takes it, the man produces a little brown paper box and wiggles it in his direction. Steve frowns, confused.
“Oh, that’s not mine. I didn’t –”
The man raises his eyebrows and holds it further toward Steve. “On the house," he says. "Take it.”
Steve sets down his coffee on top of the case and accepts the box, flipping it open to reveal a cranberry orange muffin wrapped in crinkly parchment paper. He closes the lid and gives the barista a smile. 
“You didn’t have to.”
“Obviously I didn’t have to,” the guy says. He rolls his eyes, but it’s not – it doesn’t make Steve feel stupid the way the other girl had. “You looked like you wanted one, so you got one. Now be a good boy and say thank you."
Steve feels his face heat. “Thank you.”
The barista nods in approval then gives him the ghost of a wink before turning to help another customer, and Steve reclaims his coffee, retreating to the door and back out into the cold.
He doesn’t really mean to go back the next day, but – well. The coffee had been good, okay, and the muffin had been really good. And it’s Friday, and he’s allowed a treat, and he obviously hasn’t had a chance to replace his own broken machine yet, so.
He doesn’t really have a choice. He’s here by necessity. That’s it.
“You’re back,” the barista says, eyeing him up and down when he gets to the front of the line. “Was my muffin that good, that you had to come crawling back for more the very next day?”
Steve, more alert this morning than he’d been yesterday, manages to smile like a normal human being. 
“Your muffin?”
“Our muffin,” the barista says. He spreads out his hands in front of himself. “New York’s muffin. The world’s muffin.”
“No, I meant –” Steve laughs. “You made them? It was good.”
“I know it was.” He shrugs, then taps the stack of cups on the counter next to him. “Coffee?”
Steve glances at the menu on the wall. He has a suburban Starbucks level of knowledge when it comes to this stuff, which basically means he knows the difference between like… a cappuccino and a latte, sort of but – not really?
“Just the same again, plain with oat milk,” he says. “That was fine yesterday.”
The barista narrows his eyes. “Fine?”
“Good,” Steve corrects. “It was good. Like I said, I don’t know a ton about –” He waves a hand through the air vaguely. “Whatever.” He fidgets under the barista’s continued scrutiny, then adds, “Maybe sweetened this time though? I added sugar when I got to my office yesterday.” Then belatedly, “Sorry.”
“Tell you what,” the man says at last, apparently taking pity on him. He picks up a cup. “I’ll make you something that I think you’ll like, and I won’t even charge you for it. That way if you hate it, you can just – dump it down the drain or something. No hard feelings.”
“I can pay,” Steve says, frowning. “I don’t want you to get in trouble for giving me a bunch of free stuff.”
“Oh, I won’t. The owner likes me,” the man says easily, already busy behind the espresso machine. A burst of steam comes shooting out in a cloud, and he offers Steve a smile. “What’s your name, by the way?”
“Steve,” he says. He hikes his bag higher on his shoulder where it’s slipping down. “Sorry, you probably needed that for the… the cup, or whatever.”
The barista’s smile widens, and he gives Steve another up-and-down look as he waits for the espresso to finish bubbling into the cup. “Nope. Just wanted to know.”
“Oh,” Steve says, feeling himself flush. He shoves his hands in his coat pockets to keep himself from fidgeting even more than he already is. “Okay, what’s yours then?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
Steve raises his eyebrows. “Kind of why I asked.”
The man places the cup on the counter and presses a lid into place, sliding it toward Steve along with another little paper box that, when Steve peeks inside, contains a single croissant. He takes a sip of the coffee, and it’s… delicious, unfortunately, vanilla and caramel and maybe chocolate too? And he’s pretty sure that’s real milk, thank god.
“Come back tomorrow and maybe I’ll tell you.”
“We’ll see,” Steve says mildly, taking another sip. “Thanks for the coffee.”
He gets a teasing little wave in return. 
“Have a good day at work, Steve.”
Robin is aghast when he tells her at drinks later that night.
“You’re saying he’s been there this whole time, and you’ve just been – what, walking past and not noticing?!” she asks, leaning forward in her seat. She takes a distressed sip of rosé and widens her eyes at him. “This whole time?”
“Maybe not,” he says defensively. “Maybe he’s new. Maybe – I don’t know.”
“You don’t just give out free coffee on your second day, Steve,” she says, exasperated. She picks up a fry and jabs it into the little pat of mayo on the edge of the plate, gesturing wildly with it before stuffing it in her mouth. “Free coffee and free pastries! He’s totally been there this whole time, and you were just too chicken shit to go in there and see him for yourself.”
“I literally met him by going in and seeing him.”
“Still.” She groans in frustration. “Ugh, I can’t believe you’re getting seduced via baked good. Literally if I could find one single solitary woman in this city who would give me free baked goods as a mating ritual, I’d let her step on my throat.” She places a hand on his forearm and gives him a very serious look. “My throat, Steve.”
He laughs and shakes her off. “You don’t know he’s trying to seduce me.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. You’re right,” she says. She finishes her wine and sets the empty glass on the bar with force. “The hot tattooed barista who keeps winking at you and giving you free shit for no reason is totally just trying to drum up a loyal customer base for his coffee shop.”
“I didn’t say he was hot.”
She gives him a contemptuous look. “Is he hot?”
He pokes at the lime wedge that’s floating in his gin and tonic and doesn’t meet her eye. “Maybe.”
“You’re blushing. He’s obviously hot. I hate you so much.”
“Okay, don’t – we live in the Village. It can’t possibly be that hard for you to find a lesbian who likes to bake.”
She narrows her eyes at him. “Don’t stereotype. Just because we’re ladies and we have breasts.”
“I’m not stereotyping. I’m just saying: go to any plant store, pick a girl with a choppy haircut and a canvas tote bag.” He finishes his own drink and signals to the bartender for another round. “Odds are seventy thirty she’s a lesbian with a chocolate chip cookie recipe.”
“Literally every word out of your mouth just now was a stereotype. I’m breaking up with you.”
She turns her barstool away from him abruptly, and the guy seated on the other side of her blinks in alarm, looking at Steve over her shoulder with wide eyes. Steve gives him an apologetic look and places a hand on Robin’s arm, tugging her back around to face him. 
“Alright, come on, you’re scaring the public.”
She huffs, then gives the stranger a tight smile, then turns back to Steve. “You’re going back tomorrow, right? I’ll forgive you right now if you promise me you will.”
He sighs. “Why do you even care?”
“Because he’s hot,” she says, widening her eyes, “and he has tattoos, and he obviously wants to take you back to his place and do filthy, filthy things to you, Steve, and he knows how to make really good muffins.” She shakes him again. “Steve!”
“Yes!” he laughs, wrenching his arm free of her hold. “Fine, okay. Yes, I’ll go back tomorrow. I don’t even know his name yet. He said he’ll tell me if I do, so – I will.”
“Oh my god.” She buries her face in her hands. “I swear to god, if you fuck this up.”
Steve has always been a relatively confident guy. It’s not that. He’s not normally awkward or even shy. 
If anything, he’s better than average at blending in, even managing to convince his parents that he’s still the same person he was when he was a sports star back in high school: he finished his MBA without flaming out like half his class, he got a good-paying job in the city, he even goes back home to Indiana once or twice a year for Thanksgiving or Christmas. 
He’s normal. He’s… acceptable.
Just – he also knows when he doesn’t know something, and that’s when he gets flustered.
Like now, Saturday morning. He’s been standing in front of the full-length mirror in his bedroom and staring at himself for a long time – probably too long – fiddling with the cuffs of his jeans and the swoop of his hair and the weird little… thing his sweater is doing where it bunches up around his waist. 
Maybe he should change. Or just… not go? Robin would forgive him, right?
Robin absolutely would not forgive you, says a horrible little voice in the back of his mind that sounds suspiciously like the woman herself. She absolutely would not, and then she’d come directly over to your apartment and let herself in and drag you there herself.
Fine. Just go. 
He takes a deep breath and releases it in a sharp huff. He can do this. He can totally, obviously, absolutely do this. It’s literally just leaving his building, walking three hundred feet down the street to the corner, and entering a coffee shop. That’s all he has to do. That’s all.
He does it.
When he walks in, he casts a curious glance around the space since, for the first time in here, he’s not in a hurry. It seems like no one else is either: it’s busy in a different way than it’s been for the past few mornings, fewer people calling out orders and pushing back and forth through doors, more occupied armchairs and tables with laptops. There’s a record playing in the background, something scratchy and smooth, interrupted by the sound of occasional jets of steam issuing from behind the counter.
And behind the counter is – Steve feels disappointment curdle in his stomach. 
Oh. 
The scary redhead. She’s sitting on a barstool with a knee drawn up to her chest, studying her nails and pretending like she hasn’t seen him. He steps closer to the counter, too close to ignore, and she sighs, looking up at him like his very presence is an affront to her. In spite of himself, he feels a little bubble of nervous laughter crawl up the back of his throat, and he swallows it down.
“Yeah?” she asks.
“Just, uh – a coffee?”
“It’s all coffee,” she tells him in a bored voice. “Are you asking for a drip coffee?”
“Yeah, just that, with oat milk,” he says, then adds, “Thanks.”
She jabs at her iPad then flips it around for him. “Eight dollars. Oat milk’s at the end of the bar, you can add it yourself.”
He gives her an awkward smile as he pays, and she just stares back at him impassively. He’s slipping his card back into his wallet and preparing to run away with his tail between his legs when the door behind the counter pushes open, and Steve’s barista – the nice one who gives him real milk and doesn’t glare at him – backs through it, balancing a tray of cinnamon buns in his arms.
He turns, then spots Steve, and his face breaks into a smile. He sets down his tray.
“Knew you’d be back,” he says, tilting his head with a teasing smile on his face. “Max, this is Steve. We like Steve.”
“This is Steve?” She gives him a once-over, then turns to make a face at the other man. “Seriously?”
Now that’s – “Okay,” Steve says. “I’m literally standing right here.”
“Yes. This is Steve, and today Steve would like a white mocha with two pumps of cinnamon.”
“That’s disgusting.” She makes a face. “Anyway, he paid for a plain drip coffee.”
“I didn’t ask what he paid for. I told you what he’s going to get. Can you make it for him, please?”
She glares at Steve’s barista then slips off her stool with a groan and the deepest eye roll Steve has ever seen in his life. 
“Whatever. It’s your shop.”
“Ignore her,” he tells Steve in a voice loud enough for her to hear. “Max likes to think she’s funny, but she’s actually just judgmental.”
She sticks her tongue out at him then sets about ignoring them, disappearing into a cloud of steam. He lifts up onto his toes to lean forward over the top of the pastry case and get a look at Steve.
“You’re very comfy casual today,” he says, dropping back to his own side. He raises an eyebrow. “Cute sweater.”
“Thanks,” Steve says, feeling himself flush. He tugs at the hem of it as he casts another look around the room. “This is your shop? I didn’t realize when you said the owner liked you, you meant…”
“Yep, all mine,” he says. “I can shamelessly flirt with as many customers as I want. No boss to tell me to get back to work.”
Steve widens his eyes. “Flirting with me, and he won’t even tell me his name.”
The man grins at him, resting his face in one hand. “I guess you’ve earned it.” Steve feels his stomach do a flip. “I’m Eddie.”
“Eddie,” he says, trying it out. It suits him, Steve thinks. “Nice to meet you. Officially.”
“Likewise,” Eddie says as Max passes him the coffee and returns to her stool with a huff. Eddie slides it to Steve across the counter. “Your very disgusting sugary coffee, handcrafted with love by our sweetest barista.”
“Thanks,” Steve laughs, accepting the drink. He pries the lid off to peer inside. “Is this the same as yesterday?”
“Nah, I’m still figuring out what you like,” Eddie says. He waits for Steve to take a sip – another winner, maybe even better than yesterday – then says, “Are you busy tonight?”
Steve looks up from his coffee. Eddie is watching him with an amused tilt to his smile. Steve swallows.
“Am I busy tonight?”
“That’s what I asked. Are you?”
“No, I don’t think so.” Steve clears his throat. “No.”
“Okay,” Eddie says as he folds a cinnamon roll into a box and nudges it in Steve’s direction. “Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?”
Steve accepts the box, and before he can second guess himself he says, “Yeah, okay.”
Eddie’s smile is slow and easy. “Good. I wrote my number on the inside of the lid. Text me your address? I’ll pick you up at seven.”
When he gets home, he calls Robin, freaking out.
“I didn’t fuck it up,” he says by way of greeting when she answers on the third ring.
“What?”
“Hot tattooed… barista guy,” Steve says, pacing frantic circles around his living room and ripping a hand through his hair. “I didn’t fuck it up. His name’s Eddie, and he gave me a cinnamon roll, and it was really good, and – okay, so it turns out he owns the shop, he doesn’t just work there and –” He stops, staring out the window at the building across the street, unseeing. “And we’re having dinner tonight.”
There’s a beat of silence on the other end of the phone, then a shout, then more silence, and then she says, “Holy shit. What are you going to wear?”
After much debate and two facetime calls and eventually Robin just physically marching the three blocks over to help him decide in person, and then him forbidding her from sticking around to interrogate Eddie – when the buzzer goes at seven sharp, 
When the buzzer goes at seven sharp, no games played, he stares at the box on the wall in alarm, half expecting it to come to life and bite his face off. When it doesn’t, he recovers (barely) and jabs at the button to let Eddie inside. 
620 notes · View notes
mirrrorballs · 7 months
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seeing you tonight.
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pairing / jj maybank x fem!kook!reader
genre / fluff, fluff, fluff! slight angst if you squint (?) cute little established relationship read:)
warnings / mentions of an argument, drinking (not the reader), talks about insecurities, i'm pretty sure that's it ^^
synopsis / to say the least, you were pissed at jj. and you were pretty sure he shared the feeling. what started out as a petty little bicker escalated into an actual argument. however, you're going to have to deal with him sooner or later since you're both attending the monthly outer banks beach blowout. seeing him tonight, it's a bad idea right?
author's note / my outer banks phase has been resurfacing, and apparently so has my jj obsession! this is inspired by 'bad idea right?' by olivia rodrigo <3 it doesn't entirely follow the song's storyline, but the idea is there. hope you guys like the little homage to gilmore girls (it's fall, after all.) and the little jess and rory mentions. enjoy!
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"Woah, woah, woah- hold that thought, JJ. You argued with her over 'Gilmore Girls'?" Kie asked with furrowed brows and the most confused tone you could hear.
"Well- not technically." JJ replied, but it came out more as a question. Pope decided to pop into the conversation, "How on earth do you argue with your girlfriend over a show about a single mom and her mensa level daughter?" he asked.
JJ sighed sarcastically after John B let out a snicker whilst picking out some clothes for that night's party.
"We didn't really argue about the show. I just didn't like this opinion she had on one of the characters 's all. I think." he shrugged, saying the last part more to himself.
"Enlighten me then. What was this opinion she had?" Kie challenged.
It was early in the morning. JJ had slept over at your house the day before. It was now four am and you were both snuggled up together under a duvet on your couch, head on his shoulder as you both waited for your pop tarts to toast and for your coffee to brew.
You tore yourself away from him, causing JJ to groan and break the comfortable silence that engulfed the two of you.
You giggled lightly at his rather clingy state as you picked the TV remote up from the coffee table in front of you before settling back into his arms.
He held onto you slightly tighter this time, as if he didn't want you out of his hold.
As you turned the television on and started browsing through some shows on Netflix, JJ buried his head into your hair.
"What show d'ya want to watch?" he said all muffled, pressing a small kiss onto your head after.
"Gilmore Girls. You were binging it with me the last time you slept over, remember?" you said, looking up at him. He hummed in response.
"I remember. It's that favorite show of yours." he replied, smiling to himself when he noticed you didn't continue watching it without him, the episode displayed on the 'continue watching' panel being the one you left off on last time.
You both watched in silence filled with only the sounds of your reactions to some scenes. You both only paused to get your pop tarts and coffee, but JJ offered to get it for you before you could even stand up.
After a few episodes, you decided to speak. "Y'know, a lot of people like Jess, but I just can't see why." you said nonchalantly.
JJ looked at you with a confused expression and furrowed brows. Not that he was the biggest fan of that character, but he was curious as to why.
You took his look as a sign to expound on your stand. "Mm, he just doesn't seem to have the best influence on Rory. Not that he really influences her or anything, but you know what I mean?" you sat up straight to look at the blonde boy next to you.
"Not that Dean was either, I remember you droning on and on to me about that one house wife episode. What was it again? Diane Reed?" JJ replied. "Donna Reed. And you know I don't like Dean at all, I just don't think Jess was that big of an upgrade." you simply shrugged.
"And why is that? He and Rory have more things in common than she and Dean did." the blonde inquired.
"It's not really a problem with compatibility. He's just getting into fights all the time, he's incredibly disrespectful to both Luke and Lorelai, even Rory sometimes! And the whole bad boy, good girl thing they have going on isn't exactly the best thing." you said.
JJ doesn't know why, but he somehow felt himself getting defensive.
He scoffs. "So what, they're in love! Since when was opposites attract a bad thing?" his tone was shifting now, and this took you aback.
"He picks fights for no reason! I'm sorry that I'm not soft for him all because he likes to read books!" you met his tone with a hint of sarcasm.
"Is this because he's not some rich kid with a trust fund like Rory? Are those your standards?" he said. You were just bewildered by this argument now.
"Where are you even getting this?" you asked in disbelief.
"Look, I'm just saying that I don't see anything wrong with Jess! It just seems like you're nitpicking what he does." JJ was standing up now.
"Why are you taking this so personally? Is it so wrong for me to dislike a character?" you stood up as well.
"I don't know. It just seems weird that a character you don't exactly like is damn similar to me!" the blonde said, frustration mixed with confusion laced in his voice.
"What? JJ, you and Jess are two completely different people. I don't know what you're talking about--" you were cut off by him discarding your statement with a wave of his hand.
"You know what, I should really head over to John B's. I'll see you later." he said blandly, walking past you and heading for the door.
"You idiot!" Kie exclaimed once JJ stopped his retelling of that morning's events. "You know she would never even think about comparing you to someone in such an awful manner, gosh. That girl loves you so damn much it actually concerns me. Don't get me started on when you brought up the trust fund thing" she scolded.
"And dude, for the record, this Milo Ventimiglia guy is way hotter than you." John B said, showing them all a photo of him he found on google as if to say this was a reason the two couldn't be compared.
"Wow, thanks JB." JJ said sarcastically.
"Look, man, your girl's smart. She'll realize what you were implying with your argument and might get hurt." Pope added. Kie nodded furiously.
JJ's blue eyes softened at the thought of his words hurting his own girl. "Oh, man." he sunk into the couch, burying his face in his hands. After a few moments he sat back up properly. "Okay, hopefully she's still going to the party, if I can't make amends there I'll buy flowers and go to her house." he continued seriously.
Sarah was sitting on your bed as you threw clothes around your room from your closet in search of an outfit all while filling her in on your argument with JJ.
"I mean, how could he even think that I was comparing him with a character I was talking distastefully about? JJ's perfect to me, I don't see how he's as 'bad' as Jess as he thought I was implying." you rambled while inspecting one of your laced tank tops, nodding to yourself and throwing it onto your bed as a sign of approval.
"I didn't realize that what I was saying seemed to hit him where it hurt. I feel bad about that, but I'm still frustrated." you continued while eyeing two sweaters in your hands, deciding to go with the one that belonged to your boyfriend.
"You didn't know. Honestly, I think JJ still thinks he's not good enough for you. Not just with the whole kook and pogue thing he told us before." your friend said while tracing her finger over the lace on your top.
You paused and threw a pair of shorts next to your sweater and top before turning around to face Sarah.
"He thinks that?" you asked with soft eyes. "Oh.. I'm taking this as you guys haven't talked about that yet." she said.
"No, we haven't. I didn't even know he felt that way" you said.
Sarah smiled. "Well, a reason to talk to him later. Right?" she asked with a slightly tilted head. You gave her a tight lipped smile and a nod.
"Yeah. And here I was thinking seeing him later was a bad idea." you said, more to yourself than to your friend.
"You better get ready then, party starts in an hour. I'll help you with your makeup." Sarah said, standing up and handing you your outfit.
Your ears were filled with the sounds of party music, loud cheering, chattering, the opening of bottles of booze accompanied with the chants of some random guy's friends telling him to chug.
You were walking around the party on your own, Sarah already went her own way to look for John B.
Your eyes scanned the beach for the head of blonde hair and blue eyes you loved dearly. You were still eyeing the area as some guy randomly walked up to you and started trying to flirt with you by using pickup lines.
Your ears practically tuned his voice out from the get go.
Your heart rate seemed to have picked up when you saw your boyfriend from afar with some of his other friends that seemed only a bit familiar to you. He looked happy. Smiling widely and laughing after downing a red cup filled with beer with ease.
After looking at him for a few seconds, practically burning a whole into his skull with your gaze, he turned around and made eye contact.
You turned around almost immediately and shifted your attention to the guy in front of you.
"I'm sorry, what was that?" you asked in pure confusion, clueless as to why this man even approached you.
He smirked. "Well, my last statement was asking how a pretty girl such as yourself is alone at a blowout like this." he said.
You took a half step back in slight discomfort. Unbeknownst to you, this didn't go unnoticed by JJ and he immediately excused himself and made his way over to you.
You didn't realize the blonde boy's presence until you felt the all too familiar warm hand of his snake around your waist, pulling you close.
After looking up and seeing him, you faced the guy in front of you with a small smile. The poor boy seemed confused.
JJ shifted his gaze to you. "This a new friend of yours baby?" he gestured the hand that held his red cup towards him.
"Oh, uh- I didn't know you had a boyfriend." he scratched the back of his neck.
"You never gave me the chance to tell you." you simply shrugged.
"Okay then.. Bye." he backtracked as he stated before walking off in long and fast paced strides. JJ simply laughed at this.
"J, can we talk?" you turned to face him properly, looking around to to signal that the conversation should be held somewhere more private. He nodded and you both went to the empty side of the beach.
Once you were both just standing still, there was a rather awkward silence.
"You look gorgeous tonight, as always." he said with a smile that you returned.
"I'm sorry." he simply said. You looked up at him, confused. "I overreacted." he continued.
"JJ, I'm sorry. I didn't realize that what I said could come off as comparison." you said as you looked down.
JJ furrowed his eyebrows and held your chin, tilting it upwards so you were looking at him.
"Why are you apologizing? You couldn't have known. It's just- well, sometimes I can't help but feel that you're too good for me" he said, dropping his hand to your hips as he threw the red cup to the ground so his other hand could mirror this. He played with the hem of your sweater.
"Yeah, a little birdie told me you thought that." you said, the frown on your face somehow heard in your voice. "Sarah," JJ practically groaned to which you nodded.
"I don't get how you could even think that. I think the opposite at times, you're too good for me." you shook your head.
JJ tilted his head to the side as if his reason was the most obvious thing in the world. He scoffed slightly with a smile. "Just look at you. We're from two different social classes, you're a total good girl, and let's face it. I get into fights like Jess and I admit that I'm not the best influence." he said.
"Those social classes don't matter. And JJ, hey look at me, you are not Jess. You get into fights because you're defending your friends, you're defending me. You are loyal, amazing, a person with all these good adjectives and a great heart. You're respectful, my parents love you. I love you. So don't you ever think that you're not good enough because you're more than enough. Got it?" you said as you trapped his face in between your hands.
His hands were on your wrists, and he was smiling with tears slightly welling in his eyes. "I love you, so damn much." he whispered lovingly before pressing a kiss into the palm of your hand. You smiled widely at this.
"Let's ditch this party, wreck our plans." you said as you wrapped your arms around his neck. "Not a bad idea, let's hit the chateau this time." he replied, pulling you flush to him. You smiled and pressed a quick kiss onto his lips.
After pulling away you decided to message Sarah before leaving.
Hey, I'll be heading back early tonight.
You picked up JJ's red cup from the ground to dispose of properly before standing up and intertwining your hands together.
"You pick the show this time." you told him. "Sounds great to me." he smiled before falling into step with you.
Your phone dinged, indicating that Sarah responded. You shook your read with a smile as you read the reply.
Yeah right.
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juls speaks. I HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOYED! this was so cute to write oh my gosh, i swear, this had me giggling and all.
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lightbulb-warning · 10 months
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Saiuoma not-Week not-Day 4: pregame
discussing Hot Takes from your hyperfixation, loudly, on public transport, is a love language all by itself
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lilolilyr · 10 months
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A Berena (Holby City) canon-divergence getting together fanfiction on Ao3, 2k G, no warnings
I wrote a snippet that's kind of a version of this with Serena calling Elinor for her birthday a while ago on tumblr (under the cut) here, but ended up writing more of a version with Bernie and Charlotte, now it's on Ao3!
Thanks @squishmittenficfan for helping me along! <3 I know it didn't turn out particularly long anyway, but without you as a sounding board it wouldn't have gotten posted at all!
My Berena tag list: @sapphicdbc @akaanonymouth @starfleetwitch @shippingsincebeforeyouwereborn @lavendelhummel, let me know if you want to get added or removed from the list!
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goth-claudia · 9 months
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DEMOLITION LOVERS ON ROCKY BEACH
Laying back on the rock, I let it all fade. I see the lines in the sky, then the dapples of light shining through the pinprick holes in the blackout velvet curtain. Turning my head, I see the world lain on its side. The layers of the ocean breaking up the shining reflection of the city. The stars shift under my gaze, squirming as if they resent being seen. I let my body go, or perhaps I come back to it. I shrink the ever expanding bursting bubble of my world until it's just this. Just me and the sky with her shifting stars and the sideways world with its shining city lights. I breathe in time with the guitars. Nothing to remove me. I let it all happen.
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stargazerbibi · 9 months
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sometimes i feel really connected to another person. and then i feel foolish for thinking such a thing with so little grounds to think it. i feel foolish. i wish we'd just say everything to everyone and didn't worry about being perceived the wrong way, seen in the wrong light. i. feel. foolish. i wish i could come up to you and say that you're cute and that i'd love to get to know you better. but instead i feel foolish and can't get the words out. what if you think i'm creepy? a stalker? and never want to be near me again? how would i recover from that, from becoming one of the things i hate the most? everyone would talk. i know you know it too. you're on everyone's mouths, but i want to talk to you.
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myrxellabaratheon · 9 months
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I’m planning to marry Princess Myrcella off to Theon Greyjoy
Tyrion Lannister, GoT 2x03
If ONLY Varys were the one to spy on Tyrion for Cersei, if only!
I personally was robbed of two of my rarest ships (yup, I ship Theon with both daughter and mother) because Lannister men love to throw Theon’s name at random when speaking about wedding BUT NEVER FUCKING MEAN IT!! (I mean, Tyrion sort of meant it cause the he would have married Myrcella off to one of the three, and of course the most boring and useless one was the one who won)
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The songs
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When I listen to a song,
I somehow live it
Its like I'm feel it drowning me in its melody,
into another world, full of mystry.
With every song there is a different world,
Some feels like floating while some like drowing in hurt.
Some are rather warm while some cold,
Some feel shy, some rather bold
I imagine a ghost of a face helding emotions of the song,
I imagine the movement of its lips, how it forms words,
How the image is clearly unclear is rather absurd.
And to name that face feels mysteriously wrong...
I spy it's naked eyes,
What feelings it helds,
Is it vulnerability, anger or revenge,
Is it happiness, peace or strength.
I somehow how feel what the song feel,
Whether it is the weight of world on shoulder that makes on kneel,
I feel the effect of the words spoken on me,
Its like a second nature so i let it be,
To listen the unheard,
Feel the anguish of suffered,
See the hinden secrets behind the rhythm,
All the problems being overcomed.
I cry their tears and laugh their joy,
I observe it like a baby, observing it's new toy,
I feel the flutter of love in stomach
I feel the rush of the blush making one duck,
I rest in their peace and caress
I dance in their carefree funkiness
I partake in the battle they have raging on
I Also sense the squeezing of heart by the gone
Like a lover embracing it's Loved one,
I embrace it to my heart, leaving space for none,
Its just i live the song i listen,
I feel the song i listen.
Juls
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abybweisse · 10 months
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I know this is a Black Butler blog but I love your analysis and I would like to know your opinion on this one.
I don't know if you have read this before or not, so I will explain a little. A fanfic (about demon slayer)in which demons are taken  as pets. Akaza was harassed as a devil in a fighting ring, and now in today's society, after a long time, the reader has decided to take care of him as his pet. He is very damaged and it is hard for him to get used to a life without blood and bleeding and stuff like that. The reader helps him in this matter and he becomes attached on the reader. Now if reader brings one of her male friends home to hang out, is Akaza jealous when she sees the intimacy between these two? Do you think he reacts or is he so hurt that he is afraid of strangers to react?
I don't know enough about Demon Slayer to really discuss fanfics based on it.
I know my dog and cat came from shelters, and that they are jealous of each other for my affection. They vie for my attention, but it looks a lot like sibling rivalry. And they both act jealous of people and other animals if I'm focused on them (the others). Particularly the dog, Flanagan, who will start huffing/whining and then barking, if I'm paying attention to anyone else (human or otherwise) while not petting him.
All I can suggest, for fanfic writing purposes, is that perhaps Akaza acts up in some way in an effort to regain the center of attention. What form that takes is up to the writer... as well as how the "reader" is meant to react.
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one-half-guy · 8 months
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Me in the start: This will be a ship free fic! No romances, no couples!
Me now: Okaaaaay, I know romance isn't the focus here and these extras are just a plot device to lengthen this chapter and then vanish buuuuuuut... I think they would be such a cute couple 🥹👉👈
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websterss · 4 months
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𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐁𝐔𝐆 — 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐄𝐑
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𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐒: Can I do a request for Cole Walter where he and the reader are about to sleep together for the first but she figures that he just will hook up with her and go back to Erin. But he actually has feelings for her and he found out it is her first time ever so he makes sure to tell her that he actually has feelings for her. (Some mature content if you’re cool with that)😏
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒): Angst, fluff, only indication of smut at the end, no actual smut.
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 2,804
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Cole Walter x fem!Reader
𝐀/𝐍: I hope you enjoy it! I don't how to feel about this lmfao. Listen I suck at smut so I'm sorry there isn't any my love. Also, I don't do taglists anymore guys!
𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
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If there was one thing you couldn’t let go of it was trying and not being able to have a conversation with Cole. You found it difficult since he had been avoiding you like the plague. He’d brush past your shoulder in the halls, and if you locked eyes in public he was already walking the other way. Your friendship has been one for the history books. A long-lasting friendship since elementary, but you wondered when and if your bond was soon to expire. You wanted to keep trying though because trying meant you wouldn’t have to lose Cole for good. 
You had had your doubts the second Katherine had invited you to attend Haley and Will’s wedding. Your doubts clouded your mind as you felt your presence and attendance would cause a great deal of stress or frustration for Cole. Seeing as how he didn’t want to talk to you, you did your best to stay far away, sit far, but even then you watched as he left in the middle of the dancing. Heading towards the barn. You had wished you had gone after him sooner, but you waited, waited till everyone was asleep. Anxiety was all you felt as you faced his workshop shed. The light was on indicating that he was in there but if it hadn’t been for the banging and clanging of tools against metal you would have assumed otherwise. It was only one foot after the other. You thought to yourself. Some part of you told you to run and turn, but he was alone and in his element, this would have to be your only time to get your chance. You had to be brave, and strong, but you were not at the moment so you went head first, heart second. You had opened the door and made your way inside. You complicated whether to make your presence known but it ended up being one hesitant knock followed by two certain ones. You had barely made your way into the area before his voice made you halt in your tracks. 
“Didn’t expect you to be hanging around still. It’s late, shouldn't you be on your way home by now?” 
“H-How’d you know it was me?” You gape at him like a fish out of water, not having expected him to speak first. 
“You’re the only person I know that knocks after walking into a room.” He continued to twist a bolt. “Plus you do things in threes.”
You gaped at him. “No, I don’t.” 
You watched as he turned his eyes towards you, a shit-eating grin on his eyes as he leaned to his left. His hand curls into a fist as he reenacts your entrance. Tapping against the metal for effect.
One… two three. 
“Three times.” He smirked, raising his left brow. You wanted to slap him then and there. 
“Didn’t peg you as the type to pay attention to things like that?” 
“Like what? Like how you scrunch your nose and close your eyes when the sun is in your face, and continue to have a conversation like that. Or how you like to listen instead of speaking when you’re in a group. It's just how observant you are. Or how you do things like knock three times after entering a room.” He chuckles, pointing and mocking where you entered. “Or how you don’t ask or expect anything from anyone because you feel like you’re being a burden. Which you’re not. Or how you go out of your way to help others so much, even though some people don’t deserve to be blessed by your kindness. Or how you prefer bikes to cars cause it means you're helping out the planet a little bit more. Or how you prefer Custard instead of Murphy now because when we were younger Alex said you’d be fine riding him…but then you fell off and you got hurt, and it took a long time to get you to trust us again, and get you back on a saddle. Or… how you’ve been nothing but sweet to me when all I’ve done is treat you like shit.” He slams the hood of his truck down causing you to flinch. Regret fills him instantly. “Or…how you hate loud noises because it reminds you of all the yelling that happens at home.” If your heart could stop you’d have collapsed dead on the floor before him. But it hadn’t, it only skipped and increased in speed because you never thought he'd be so attentive to you. 
“Still don’t peg me as the type to pay attention to things now?” He opened his arms out and gave a tight-lipped grin. 
“What happened to us?” 
“I don’t know what you mean.” He brushes past you like he’s done so time after time again. He walked over to his work table looking for a torque wrench knowing the one he needed was over by the truck in his toolbox. He just couldn’t face you right now. 
“Cole…will you look at me, please? I’ve been trying to talk to you for months now and-“
“Have you seen my torque wrench anywhere I can’t find it?” He cut you off. 
“Cole, I’m serious, if you’d just give me a second-“
“Can we not do this tonight? I need to work on the truck okay? It needed more work after it broke down on me and Jackie the other day and I’d appreciate it if you-“
“Can you just look at me for once, dammit!” You walk over and bang your fist on the hood and flinch. You see his side profile first before his body follows, he raises a brow at you unimpressed. 
“On my truck.” He gestures to where your fist rests. 
“I have been trying and trying for so long now to get your attention. To talk to you.” You run your hands down your face. “Because I miss you…” You gesture an open hand to him. “I miss my best friend. I miss wanting to know how your day is going or if your knee has been hurting, but I can’t do those things because you don’t give me the time of day.” 
“I’ve been busy…” He shrugs. 
“Busy right? Yeah, I know what you've been up to.” You close your eyes. “Look Cole, I don’t know if I’ve done anything to make you want to avoid me but if I have then I’m sorry.” You let your head hang forward. “I don’t know what to do anymore…” You hear him before you feel his hands touch your skin gently. In a soft gentle caress, you can’t help but lean into his palm. “I’m sorry…” 
“Hey, you don’t have to be sorry for anything. I’ve been a jerk okay…I've been a shit friend and an even shit brother, but I’m working on it. I am. Things will be different. Okay, if my speech was anything to go off of, I meant every second of it. Meeting your person…When I met you, nothing, nothing else mattered to me. I should’ve realized it sooner too but when do I pay attention to you.” He joked slightly, causing you to roll your eyes. “I should've held you closer because as my mother likes to remind me constantly. You’re good for me, to me, and way out of my league…” Cole laughed lightly. “I guess what I’m trying to get at is I’m sorry…for everything. I know I don’t deserve to be forgiven for the way I’ve treated you.” 
“You don’t.” Cole retreats his hands from your face. Accepting that as your final word. He’d have walked off with a nod if you hadn’t given him the sweet smile he loves seeing on you. “It’s a good thing I forgave you two days ago then..” 
“Wait what?” 
“Thanks for fixing my bike by the way.” 
He breathes out a laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “How did you know about that?” 
“I had to take Luna to the vet since she got out the night before, she came back with a limp, but that’s a story for another time. Anyway, your mom and I chatted and she assumed we were on good terms again and asked if you had given me my bike back yet. It didn't take long to put two and two together. That and I’ve been missing my bike for a week now.”
“Can’t trust her now.” He joked. 
“When did you even take it?” You shook your head.
“When did you start asking people for rides again?” He raised a brow at you but laughed as you went to playfully smack him for he was the reason for your lack of transportation. “I was driving the boys home from school when I saw you one day kneeling beside your bike. I wasn’t spying by the way, I just happened to see you in all your damsel ness…” He dragged out the s. 
“Right…” You squint your eyes at him in amusement. 
“I figured it could’ve been the chain since you complained about it falling out one time, so it was either that or the tires finally gave out because let’s face it, sweetheart, that thing was ancient.” He started walking backwards with a smirk. “It was supposed to be a surprise but I guess now is as good of a time as any.” He grabbed a hold of the sheet that covered it and yanked it off.
Your heart did stop then and there. You gasped quietly as a cherry red bike was presented before you. Cole rolled it over in front of you before pulling down the support lever. Though it had been the basket with a pink bow on it that caught your attention. It was beautiful.
“You fixed it.” You reached a hand out to touch it but left it hanging mid-air. Too scared to ruin it. Break it. “And…painted it?” You raised a confused brow at him.
“No. I got you a new one.” He grinned sheepishly as you looked up at him in shock. “The basket was a personal touch I added to it though. I thought you could use something to carry your backpack and books, and the flowers you deliver on Wednesdays. You’ve always carried your bag on your back so I thought this could help take that heavy weight off your shoulders.” 
“Cole…T-This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. Thank you…” His heart swelled as you flashed him a smile. You looked back to the bike…thinking he must’ve spent his paycheck on it. You couldn’t believe he’d done such a thing for you. 
“You’re welcome bug.” He nodded. “You deserve something nice. Plus your old bike was on its last limb. That and I thought it’d be good for me to get some exercise in. Work the leg out some more ya know. Believe it or not, I don’t remember the last time I ever rode a bike.” He chuckled. 
"Bug...You haven't called me that in a long time."
"It's my name for you..."
"Yeah, I know it is..." You mutter softly. You thought about the name for a second before your brows furrowed in confusion. “Wait if you got me a new one…What did you do with the old bike?”
“Ah thought you’d never ask. I fixed it.” He jogged back over to the corner. Rolling over the old rusted red one out. He swung a leg over the seat. “Thought you can use the company on Wednesdays.” 
“Keep me company huh?” 
“Yeah, I think it’s time I find a new hobby.” 
“Sulking bored you out.” 
“Among other things…” He shrugs. “I want things to be different.” He cleared his throat and held your gaze. 
“I’m happy for you Cole.” You nodded. 
“Anyway…Let’s test this bad boy.” He pedaled out a few feet then you both watched and heard as the clank of the chain fell out. It lay on the floor. You looked up in time to meet his gaze. You had to cover your mouth to keep you from laughing. 
“Thought you said you fixed it.”
“Yeah…The chain won’t stay. So expect a lot of stopping when we go out on them.” He gave a sheepish grin. 
“You took the old one.” You stated. Turning back to your new one with a new sense of warmth and longing. 
“You were due for a new one. No way I could keep letting you ride this thing. I mean, look at it!” He judged the rusted two-wheeler. 
“Hey don’t make fun. She held out for as long as she could.” 
His eyes flickered onto you, lingering on your eyes a little longer before he let his eyes roam to your heels, up to where your dress ended, then his eyes raked back up to your pouty lips. The accidental double entendre wasn’t lost on him. You had held out for him as long as you could too and he’d been nothing but an ass. 
“Yeah, she sure did…” He nodded slightly. You hold his gaze for a bit longer then look away. 
“For what it's worth. I appreciate you doing this for me.” You grew closer to him, a timid stance as you fiddled with your already chipping nail paint. “I don’t think I can show you just how thankful I am, but all I got is this.” You exhaled, then leaned over to press a kiss against the side of his cheek. Cole closed his eyes wanting the touch of your lips to linger on him a bit longer. You pulled away the slightest, your eyes flickering down to his lips before you averted your gaze. Cole’s chest rose and fell at the sudden change in the atmosphere. He often wondered what your lips pressed against his felt like. Thoughts and questions he probably shouldn’t have had like what did you taste like? What noises he could get out of you. He was hungry for your touch, and he wasn’t about to ruin the opportunity to do the one thing he longed for. 
You watched as he stood up from the bike, letting it lean on the support bar. You took a step back as he closed the distance between you two. His hand reached up to find its place again against your cheeks. “I’m gonna kiss you now.” Your breath hitched at his words. “Let me know if you’d like me to stop.”
“Okay…” You had closed your eyes shut as you waited for him to lean in. It was the barely-there brush of his lips that had you gasping for air. It was the effect he had on you. When he was sure you wouldn’t pull away from him, he slid his hand underneath your jaw holding you there as he walked you both to his work table. The wood had met you back as he knelt to pick you up. Your hands slid over and into his locks. Tugging him closer to you as he stood in between your thighs. 
“Say the word…” He pulled away from your lips kissing down your jaw, onto your neck. “And I’ll stop.” He breathed out as he took note of each sigh of contentment you let out. 
“D-Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.” You lifted his chin to have him look at you once more. You curled a hand into his hair and crashed your lips onto his.
“I won’t stop then.” He pecked your lips, pulling back in a teasing manner. You grabbed both sides of his face to press your mouths together, having enough of his playfulness. You just wanted him then and there. You knew you were in for a long evening hearing him unzip his slacks. His belt buckle following next.
“P-Promise this isn’t just a one-time thing. That this won’t be like Erin or any of the other girls you’ve been with. That you won’t leave after this. This is my first time after all.”
“Is that what’s worrying you?” He leaned in and pecked your lips sweetly. 
“Would you be upset if it was?”
“No. Thank you for being open and honest about your concerns to me. But I promise you this time it's different, with you it’s different. I feel something when I’m with you, and I don’t want to find out what my life will be like if you aren’t in it any time soon, but as long as you’re game. I’m in this for the long run.”
“I thought Cole Walter didn’t do relationships…” Cole knew you were only kidding by the teasing in your tone.
“Yeah well that Cole didn’t know what love felt like until he met you.”
“You love me?” You grin feeling that warmth spread over your heart once more. 
“I love you.” He nodded certainly.
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vvanessaives · 2 years
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i was tagged by @indorilnerevarine to make some of the oc blorbos in this picrew, thank you so much allegra!! ♡
violante (bg3) || vesper (2077) selene (oblivion) || moira (fnv) viper (original work) || feng (original work)
i’m tagging: @arklay @uldwynsovs @morvaris @steelport @swordcoasts @faarkas @nuclearstorms @reaperkiller @montliyets @shepardgf @denerims @shadowglens @druidgroves @virassan @risingsh0t @florbelles @cultistbase and whoever else wants to do this!!
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mirrrorballs · 6 months
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stars around my scars.
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pairing / peter parker!spiderman!josh hutcherson x gn!reader
genre / hurt/comfort, fluff! slight angst (?) established relationship <3 heavily inspired by a scene from tasm!
warnings / mentions of injuries, mentions of physical brawls/fights, slightly flirty/suggestive peter, i think that's it..
synopsis / after a long and exhausting day that left your head pounding, all you wanted to do was rest. however, stress and agitation ensues when a certain spider boy shows up at your window in the middle of the night with cuts and bruises on his face paired with his blood stained suit.
author's note / josh hutcherson is like stuck in my mind 80% of the time lately and i freaked when i saw his audition for the amazing spiderman! thought this would be a cute thing to write after my friend and i gushed over it hehe. obviously written with josh's (somewhere in the multiverse) peter/spidey in mind, but can be read with any other peter in mind as well. oh, and this is very heavily inspired by andrew's spiderman (if you know, you know!).
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You were exhausted.
Actually, exhausted was probably an understatement.
Your day started off extra early due to the construction going on next to your house leaving you absolutely restless.
Your brain was buzzing and filled to the brim with everything and anything. School, Peter, your internship, tests and exams, Peter, the news spreading around about villains terrorizing Queens, your errands for the day, your secret-keeping boyfriend.
As if you didn't have enough things to worry about, Peter Parker just had to be added to that list.
You knew the boy well. Well enough to know when he was keeping secrets.
There was something to him, lately. Something different. He looked pretty agitated from time to time, like his surroundings were being heightened by his senses or whatever. There was more, but for the most part, he kept his distance from you.
Needless to say, after the tiring and busy day you had, all you needed was his comfort, his sweet nothings, his touch. But that boy just seemed to go out of his way to avoid you. Your gaze, your close proximity, your everything.
With everything that racked your thoughts and with everything that you needed to do and accomplish, all you wanted to do was rest.
However, just as you were about to doze off, you heard a loud thump by the iron stairs next to your window.
You immediately jolted awake, turning your lamp on and taking pepper spray (from Peter, for your apparent safety) with you as you cautiously approached the window, silently wishing it was just something that fell rather than a burglar.
As you pushed the curtains away from your windows rather quickly, a confused look etched your features when you saw that spider-man from the news about to knock on your window.
His head immediately perked up when he saw you.
"Can I come in?" his voice was muffled through his mask and the glass window.
"Excuse me?" you asked, the unsaid I don't even know you evident and loud from your tone.
He quickly looked around as if to see if anyone was watching, and when the coast seemed to be clear, he took off his mask.
You immediately recognized the boy in front of you to be your boyfriend. Except his face was littered with cuts, bruises, and blood stains that seemed to blend in with his suit almost perfectly. Your face fell at the sight of this and you immediately opened the window.
He climbed in swiftly with one hand clutching onto what seemed to be an injury located in his torso. A look of worry covered your face as you gently motioned for him to sit on your bed before shutting the windows and pulling the curtains together.
You gripped onto the curtains of a moment longer to take a deep breath before turning around to face Peter, who had the nerve to stretch a smile on his face at you.
You sighed before opening a drawer for a first aid kit before making your way towards him.
Much to his dismay, you stopped a few steps away from him. His smile faltering slightly.
"What is- You're- You're that spider guy from the news." you said while waving your hand around as if to clearly address him before crossing your arms over your chest.
He straightened his posture before taking in a sharp breath.
"Yep," he said, popping the 'p' sound while looking down. He looked up and saw the look on your face that told him to go on. "I was bitten by this radioactive spider, during the trip to the laboratory. All this- well- this kind of just happened afterwards."
You slightly frowned. "That long ago, huh" you said with a scoff disguised as a laugh as you opened the first aid kit in search of a disinfectant.
Peter sighed. "I wanted to tell you. So bad. But I was processing what had happened- and then the villains started appearing, I really didn't want them to target you to get to m-" you cut his rambling off by placing a finger over his mouth. "Pete, it's fine, don't worry. I get your situation now." you said with a small smile before you began to clean the wounds on his face.
He could tell by the look on your face that that wasn't all. Guilt overtook him when he recalled all the times he was told that you were searching for him at school, the missed phone calls, or when he would see you with a stressed look on your face as you roamed the halls while he couldn't find the guts to walk over to you and hold you in his arms.
But you were here now. Faces inches away from his as you tended to his injuries. He couldn't help but lean into your touch when you cupped his face to keep his head in place.
Now that you were here, he felt the guilt slip away. Gosh, was he selfish for you. He hadn't realized how badly he missed you.
You started to place bandaids over the cuts. "Who even did this to you?" you asked, eyebrows furrowed with worry.
"Just this group of robbers. Didn't seem like too much of a threat until they brought out these bats." he replied with a small wince.
You nodded in acknowledgement before moving a hand to the side of the torso he seemed to be clutching onto earlier. "Are you hurt here?" you said, same worried tone and expression still evident as you moved.
"No worries, no cut or anything there. Just a pretty large bruise, I think." he reassured, eyes chasing yours as you still eyed that area.
He smirked. "If you wanted my upper body exposed so bad, you could've just said so." he said as you rolled your eyes and pushed his chest jokingly to conceal the blush forming on your cheeks, the smile on your face a dead giveaway.
He pulled you flush to him with that stupid smile on his face until you were standing in between his legs and your chest close to his.
You admired his face for a while, pushing strands of his hair to the side as you combed your hand through the rest of his hair in the process.
When your eyes finally met his, Peter simply couldn't help himself anymore.
He pulled you closer into him by the back of your neck and gently placed his lips onto yours into a soft kiss. Your heart was beating erratically. You missed this so much. You missed him so much.
When you pulled away Peter immediately spoke up.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have pushed you away, I shouldn't have kept things from you. I just didn't want to risk losing you." your heart was acting funny again.
"Pete, it's okay, really. You're here now, your reason is valid. I'm just happy I have you back." you said genuinely.
He smiled, and a comfortable silence engulfed you both.
He could see your eyes droop ever-so-lightly. Shoot, he thought. You were probably about to sleep when he got there. Guilt overcame him again.
"If you're tired and need to sleep I can go." he immediately stood up and took a step back towards the window. Though, he really didn't want to leave.
You held onto his arm and shook your head. "Stay. You still have extra clothes here from the last time you slept over." you said with a lazy smile.
How could he say no to you?
And just like that, the string that pulled you two together tugged stronger. Weaving your paths and lives together in the process.
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julia speaks. i got totally carried away and this got pretty long... i hope you liked it though! josh hutcherson holds my heart in his hands right now, I couldn't resist the urge to write him hehe. and as spider-man too! we were robbed of his spidey for real.
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ishotforthestars · 1 year
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blame it on the mistletoe
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For the amazing @simons-purplehoodie for the YR Secret Santa fic exchange 💜
”You have all been given the name of one of your classmates. As their Secret Santa, you have to make sure this December is a little better for the person you’ve drawn, by whatever means you deem appropriate."
Wille glances down at his slip of paper.
Simon Eriksson 
Two words. Thirteen letters. And an erratic heartbeat in Wille’s chest.
Read it on ao3 here!
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kikizoshi · 2 years
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IRL photo of me trying to explain how BSD Pushkin isn't actually BSD Pushkin:
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Does my headcanon involve an entire reworking of Fyodor's plans in Dead Apple, Shibusawa's (second) death, and common sense? Yes. But more importantly, does it come up with a plausible explanation for how Pushkin isn't actually Pushkin?
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