#I don’t know maybe I don’t make any sense but yeah

[reidmania]

a moment | s. reid

summary: two times there was a ‘moment’ between you and spencer, and one time he did something about it.

warnings; best friends to lovers, fem reader, pinning, this based off a lorelai and luke edit i saw, idk if its edited or makes any sense tbh!! sorry! longing, kinda self doubt idk, happy ending yay!!

an; this is for lia. And was written in like an hour so i really dont want the hate guys. If it sucks i cannot be held responsible.

You walk into the bullpen, scanning the usual chaos of the bullpen The day’s already running long, and it’s barely even noon.

"Look who finally decided to join us," Spencer says, glancing up from his desk. His eyes are sharp behind his glasses, but there’s a smirk tugging at his lips. He’s half-hidden behind a wall of case files, as always, but somehow manages to throw his snark with precision.

you and spencer had been best friends since you started together, you got along with anyone but gravitated towards Spencer more than anyone else. Him and Penelope were the easiest for you to be around, you loved everyone but you had your favourites.

While Penelope had been bugging you to either kick up the courage to do something about your friendship with Spencer, or move on, you did neither.

"Oh, save it,," you fire back, tossing your bag on your desk. "I’m fashionably late. It’s a thing."

"Yeah, fashionably late in a profession like this. Very chic. Theres other ways to get here you know — from your house-“

“Don’t even” you cut him off.

“Im just saying if you keep missing the same turn off every time maybe it’s a sign you should be going a different way.” He muttered.

“I didn’t miss the turn off.” You argued. You lied.

“You did.”

“No”

He said your name and you huffed.

You roll your eyes, biting back a grin as you sink into your chair. "Can we pretend, just for today, that you’re not right?"

"Well," Spencer says, leaning back in his chair, "I’m only right about ninety-seven percent of the time. So, technically, you’ve got a three percent chance of being right today. Want to take a gamble?"

You throw a crumpled paper at him. "Your math is annoying."

He catches it, eyes twinkling, and throws it back at you. "Annoying?"

“Yes, annoying. It hurts my head”

It’s easy between the two of you—this banter, this back-and-forth. It always has been, ever since the first case you worked together. Over time, it’s become second nature to tease him, push his buttons, and he always gives it right back. The tension slips away with every joke, but today, there’s something different about the way his eyes linger on you a beat too long, like he’s waiting for you to catch on.

You ignore it. You have to.

"So, what do we have?" you ask, holding out your hand for the file in his lap.

He passes it to you, fingers brushing against yours. It’s brief, but the touch sends a spark up your arm. Your eyes meet for a second longer than necessary, and for the first time in a long time, you don’t know what to say.

Spencer clears his throat, looking back down at the file. "This unsub’s a real charmer. I think he's using manipulation tactics to lure his victims. He’s got a pattern, but it’s subtle. Took me a while to piece it together."

"Took you a while? So, like... five minutes?" You grin, but the edge in your voice is gone, replaced by something softer.

He laughs, a sound that always surprises you because it’s rare, but so genuine. "Try thirty. It was a real struggle."

"Wow. I almost feel bad for you."

His smile fades just a little, and when he looks at you again, there’s that shift. Something hovers between you, just under the surface, where the teasing usually stays. His eyes flicker over your face, and suddenly, you wonder if he’s about to say something else, something that would cross the line you’ve never acknowledged before.

Your heart skips, and before you can stop yourself, you lean forward a little. Your breath catches.

"So..." Spencer starts, but before the sentence can land, your phone buzzes on your desk. The sharp sound breaks the moment like a snapped thread. You jerk back, grabbing your phone.

"Hotch needs us in the conference room," you mutter, more to yourself than him, trying to get a grip on the swirling thoughts in your head. "We’ve got a lead."

Spencer blinks, clearly shaken out of whatever that was, and you stand up quickly, focusing hard on the case and not on the fact that you were about two seconds away from… what? Leaning in? Kissing him?

No. That’s not what this is. This is Spencer.

"Race you to the conference room?" he asks suddenly, the playful lilt back in his voice, but there’s still something lingering behind his eyes, a question neither of you seems ready to ask.

"Race? You’re literally taller than me, that’s cheating. I’m wearing heels!!"

"You can run in heels, can’t you?" He shoots you a smirk, the tension easing just enough for you to relax, even if your heart is still racing.

"Could. But i don't want to damage my gorgeous shoes," you huffed, yet already heading for the door.

"Gorgeous shoes?" He repeated, raising his eyebrow.

"Yeah that was actually the name of the shoes when i bought them. They had 'gorgeous shoes' written in big letters across the box." You smiled, tilting your head.

"Really?"

"No."

You make it halfway to the conference room before he catches up, the two of you slipping back into your usual rhythm. But as you walk into the room side by side, the unspoken thing still hangs between you. You don’t talk about it, and maybe you never will, but it’s there.

“Are you still coming over tonight?” He asked, looking down at you, eyes lingering on yours. You nod.

“It’s pizza night. Of course I am.”

And once again, you’re reminded that with Spencer, things have never been as simple as just best friends.

You’re standing in Spencer’s tiny kitchen, flour everywhere. And when you say everywhere, you mean it—on the counters, in your hair, smeared on his cheek where you definitely didn’t mean to slap him with dough earlier.

“This is going really well,” you deadpan, holding up the limp, misshapen pizza dough.

“Um.” He squints as he looks at the mess.

“Well.. you’re the genius who can outsmart anyone but apparently can’t figure out yeast,” you argue, pinning the blame on him. “Is it supposed to look like this?” You muttered, tilting your head.

“I think it’s fighting back. Maybe we’re the victims now.”

You both dissolve into laughter, the kind that makes your stomach hurt. This was supposed to be simple. Homemade pizza sounded like a cute idea, something easy to do on a night off, but it’s turned into chaos. The dough’s not cooperating, the sauce might be too watery, and you’re pretty sure you added way too much garlic. But that’s what makes it fun.

"Okay," Spencer says, hands raised in surrender. "I officially give up. This dough has outsmarted me."

"You’re giving up? Dr Spencer Reid, defeated by pizza dough?" You snatch the rolling pin from him, trying to take over, but the second you press down, the dough tears. "Okay, maybe it’s smarter than both of us."

Spencer steps closer, leaning over your shoulder to inspect the mess you've made. You can feel the warmth of him behind you, and for just a second, everything feels different. The banter pauses. His breath is soft on your neck, his arm brushing against yours as he reaches to touch the dough. Your heart stutters, and you freeze, unsure of what to do next.

But then, with no warning, Spencer flicks flour at you.

"Hey!" you squeal, spinning around to face him, eyes wide. He looks so pleased with himself, a mischievous grin on his face.

"What? You had flour in your hair. I was just trying to help.”

"Sure, you were." You reach for the bag of flour, holding it up threateningly. "I will not hesitate to make this a war, Spencer."

He grins widely, almost daringly.

You grab a handful of flour and toss it at him in retaliation. "You are such a child."

“I’m just helping!” he protests, dodging your attack and grabbing the rolling pin like a shield. His laughter is contagious, and soon you’re both caught up in it, the tension slipping away into something lighter, easier.

You try to swipe more flour at him, but he grabs your wrist, stopping you mid-throw. His fingers wrap around your wrist gently, but the touch sends an unexpected shiver up your arm. You both freeze, the room suddenly too quiet again, his hand lingering on yours for just a second longer than necessary.

His gaze flickers down to where his fingers rest against your skin, and then back up to meet your eyes. There’s a pause, just long enough for the air between you to thicken, something unspoken hanging between you. His thumb brushes your wrist lightly, and you wonder if he feels it too—the tension that’s been simmering all night, just beneath the surface.

You swallow hard, pulling your hand away, but not before you catch the briefest flicker of something in his expression. It’s gone as quickly as it appeared, and just like that, the moment slips away.

His eyes narrow playfully, and for a second, you think he might call your bluff. But instead, he just chuckles and steps back, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. Let’s not escalate this. We’re adults, after all."

"Adults who can’t make pizza," you mutter, dumping the ruined dough into the trash. "Guess we’ll have to order in. Again."

Spencer wipes his hands on a towel, still smiling. "I’ll let you pick the place this time. As long as it’s not that one with the weird crust you made us try last month."

"Oh come on, that was a bold choice! You just have no sense of adventure."

"I have a very good sense of adventure," he says, leaning casually against the counter, his eyes sparkling in that way that makes you feel like he knows exactly how to get under your skin. "I just like my pizza to taste like pizza."

You roll your eyes, but you’re grinning, too. "Fine. We’ll get the boring pizza this time."

As you both settle into the living room, waiting for the pizza to arrive, you can't help but feel that lingering tension again. The kind that sneaks up on you when things get quiet, when the laughter dies down, and it’s just the two of you sitting side by side, closer than necessary.

You smile, nudging him with your elbow. "Who knew you were such a terrible cook, though?"

"I think we share equal blame here."

"Maybe," you admit, glancing at him. His eyes catch yours, and for just a moment, the playful air between you shifts. It’s small, like the brush of his hand earlier, like the way he’s looking at you now. Your heart skips again, and you wonder—just for a second—if maybe, possibly, you weren’t imagining it. You ignore it, there was too much that could go wrong if you didn’t.

It’s late in the afternoon when you hear the knock at your door. The sun's still out, casting a soft golden light through your living room windows, but it’s the last thing on your mind.

You’re dressed in something more put together than usual because, of course, Penelope had insisted on setting you up on this date tonight. It wasn’t exactly what you wanted, but she’d been so enthusiastic that you’d caved. You’d said yes to humor her, to get her off your back.

She had insisted that you needed something to get your mind off Spencer. You wondered if that was actually possible.

So when the knock comes, your stomach churns, thinking it might be the guy arriving too early. But when you open the door, it's not your date.

It’s Spencer.

He’s standing there, hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket, hair slightly disheveled, and there’s a look on his face you can’t quite place. It’s tight, maybe a little frustrated, though he's trying hard to keep his expression neutral.

“Spence?” You lean against the doorframe, arching an eyebrow. “Everything okay?”

He doesn’t answer right away, eyes scanning you briefly before he looks down, then back up again. There’s tension in his posture, the kind you recognize when he’s overthinking something. “Yeah. Yeah, everything’s fine.”

You don’t buy it for a second. “Uh-huh.”

His face tightens even more, though he tries to hide it with a half-hearted shrug. “Did Penelope set you up with some guy?”

“Yeah?” You squinted trying to figure out how he knew that. You hadn’t mentioned it, you didn’t want to talk about what had caused your sudden date or have to lie to him about why Penelope suddenly set you up when you have shown no intention of being interested in dating.

“Penelope told me. Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked, running his hand through his hair as if he was stressed. You didn’t understand, not really. You told Spencer everything so you could understand why he would be annoyed that you didn’t tell him this, but it seemed as if he took it personally.

You squint at him, crossing your arms. “What is your issue? You look like you want to strangle someone.”

He lets out a huff, avoiding your eyes again. “It’s nothing.”

You tilt your head, studying him. There’s something under the surface, and you’re not about to let it go. “Well you’re here so, obviously its not nothing … What’s going on?”

He finally looks up at you, his eyes sharp and filled with something you haven’t seen before. It catches you off guard for a moment. “It’s just—there was a moment.”

You blink, thrown by the sudden shift. “A moment?”

His voice drops, a little rougher now, a little more real. “Last week. When we were making pizza, and the week before that— and during- there was a moment.”

Your heart skips. You know exactly what he’s talking about, but you stay silent, letting him continue.

“I thought there was a moment,” he says, his frustration starting to leak through his words now. “I thought maybe something was… happening.”

Your chest tightens, the air in the room shifting as you meet his eyes. “There was.”

The confession comes out of your mouth before you even realize it, and the tension between you two spikes instantly, filling the space with an electric charge. You can feel it, the way everything has changed with those two words.

Spencer just stares at you, his brow furrowing slightly, like he hadn’t expected you to admit it. He takes a step forward, you step back almost unconsciously, and your heart beats faster in your chest.

“What are you doing?” you ask, your voice low, unsure.

He doesn’t stop moving, closing the gap between you even more, and his voice is soft but firm when he speaks. “Will you just stand still for a minute?”

Before you can say anything, before you can even process what’s happening, his hand comes up to cup the side of your face, and his lips are on yours.

The kiss is soft at first, almost tentative, but it’s full of all the unspoken things that have been building between you for so long. You feel the world tilt, your hands instinctively moving to grip the front of his jacket, pulling him closer. For a second, everything else fades away—your date, the case, everything.

When you finally pull back, breathless, you just stare at each other. His thumb brushes lightly across your cheek, and his eyes search yours, full of something that feels too big to name.

Neither of you says anything for a long moment, the silence thick and heavy with everything that’s just shifted between you.

Then, as if in slow motion, you take a small step forward. It’s your turn now, the tables flipped, and you can see the surprise flicker in his eyes as he instinctively steps back.

“What are you doing?” he asks, echoing your earlier words, his voice low and a little breathless

You give him a small smile, feeling the tension twist tighter in your chest. “Will you just stand still for a minute?” You mirrored his words

His eyes widen slightly, but he doesn’t move, and before he can say another word, you close the space between you and kiss him again.

This time, it’s different. There’s no hesitation, no second-guessing. The kiss is deeper, more insistent, and you feel his hands tighten around your waist, pulling you closer. It’s like everything you’ve both been holding back is finally breaking free, all the tension and the unspoken feelings rushing to the surface.

When you finally break apart, you’re both breathing heavily, faces inches from each other. Your hands are still gripping the front of his jacket, his fingers still digging into your sides like he’s afraid to let go.

You don’t move, neither of you do. You just stay there, staring at each other, and for the first time in a long time, you’re not thinking about the job, or the cases, or anything else. It’s just him.

He’s the first to break the silence, his voice quiet and almost disbelieving, He exhales, a long, relieved breath, his hand still resting on your waist. “I thought maybe I was imagining it.”

You shake your head, feeling a strange warmth bloom in your chest. “No. You weren’t imagining it.”

Another beat of silence passes, and then his lips quirk up into that small, crooked smile you’ve always liked so much. “Well, I guess we have Penelope to thank for this.”

You roll your eyes but can’t help smiling back. “Yeah, and she doesn’t even know it.”

His thumb brushes your side, a subtle touch, but enough to send a shiver up your spine. “Are you… still going on that date?”

The question hangs in the air between you, and for a moment, you almost laugh. The idea of leaving now, of going out with some guy Penelope set you up with, feels absurd.

“No,” you say, your voice steady and certain. “I’m not.”

His smile widens, just a little. “Good.”

You grin up at him, feeling lighter than you have in weeks. “Yeah? Why’s that good?”

Spencer’s gaze softens, and for the first time, you see the real reason for his frustration, for all of this. He steps even closer, so close that you can feel his breath on your lips, his voice low and sincere.

“Because, there was a moment.”

Your heart stutters in your chest, and you meet his eyes, that familiar warmth spreading through you again. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he says, his lips ghosting yours, and the last bit of tension that’s been sitting between you melts away completely. He smiles, and before either of you can say anything else, he closes the gap and kisses you again.

[cowboymcflurry]

To Be Alone With You | Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: After you had spent an entire rainy Saturday afternoon playing video games on your new Nintendo with your best friend Eddie, he wants to head back home to spend some time practicing the guitar, when the rain turns into a violent storm. He agrees to stay a little while longer when a power outage suddenly plunges the room into darkness…

word count: 1,7k words

includes: first kiss, fluff, making out, friends to lovers, no description of reader, no use of y/n, Eddie is a shy cutie, reader is oblivious, reader’s gender is not mentioned, Eddie gets a boner whoopsie

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“You are the worst person to play Gyromite with, Munson!” you laughed.

“It’s not my fault you can’t communicate!”

“I can’t communicate?” you gasped dramatically. “At least I don’t confuse the buttons - there are TWO!”

Eddie rolled his eyes, laughing out loud while nudging you with his elbow.

“Anyways, I gotta get going. I have to practice some more for our show next week. You’re coming right?” he asked.

“Of course I’m coming.” you laughed. “How could I miss that?”

“Good. If I don’t see you there holding up a sign saying ‘Eddie, I want to bear your children’ don’t even bother coming, okay?”

You broke out laughing. “Alright.”

Eddie would say these things sometimes, things that sounded flirty but you knew he didn’t mean them. It was simply his sense of humor.

“Are you guys like going out?” Robin had asked a couple of weeks ago, after school. Your face had immediately gotten hot and red.

“Uh, no, we’re just friends. Good friends, that’s all.” you’d said, while simultaneously imagining what it would be like if you weren’t just ‘good friends’. What it would feel like if he picked you up in his van, and you would go see a movie or get a pizza or do whatever it was that other people your age did, going on dates and stuff. But you knew that Eddie didn’t think of you that way. And you hoped he didn’t know that you in turn did feel about him that way.

Ever since he’d borrowed a piece of paper and a pen from you in Mrs. Marshall’s class you had been under the spell of his dark intoxicating eyes. Then you had run into each other at a concert in Indianapolis, making him realize that you were one of ‘his kind’ as he’d put it. He’d quickly ‘adopted’ you, inviting you to join the Hellfire Club, where you met Dustin, Mike, Lucas, Gareth and Jeff. You never really saw him talking to any girls at school but you knew that a bunch of them had a secret crush on him, whispering about what a great head of hair he had.

Suddenly you heard the rumble of thunder and when you looked out of the window you saw lightning striking in the distance. The storm had gotten worse, the rain violently pounding against your window.

“You sure you don’t want to stay until the storm is over?” you asked, worriedly looking outside. Eddie pulled a goofy grimace.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get home safe. But it’s cute, that you’re worried about me,” he said, winking at you when a loud crash of thunder made him flinch. “Yeah, okay, maybe I’ll wait until it’s over.”

You sat down on your bed, watching the raindrops dripping down your window, when Eddie joined you, sitting at the other end of the bed. Immediately you felt your heart beating faster and when you looked at him, you saw his mouth open, as if he was about to say something, when a lightning bolt illuminated your room for a second, immediately followed by another crash of thunder.

There was a clicking sound and suddenly Eddie and you sat in pitch-black darkness.

“Shit.” you hissed, feeling the hair on your neck stand up.

You heard him rummage through his pockets, when there was another clicking sound, only this time coming from his lighter.

“You have candles or something?” he asked, the flame illuminating his face.

“Uh… Yeah, sure…” you said, watching the flickering light dance off his face for a second too long.

“What?”

“Nothing.” you quickly said, before getting up and stumbling to your desk, on which you’d placed a small candle a couple of months ago. It smelled of fresh laundry and relaxed your busy mind when you were studying for school late into the night. Picking it up you handed it to Eddie, who lit it and then placed it on the window sill right next to you.

“So romantic.” you joked, hoping it would come across the same way it did when Eddie said things like that. But he didn’t laugh. Instead, you saw him looking at the flame, his lips pulling into something that you could best describe as a sad smile.

“Yeah, right?”

“What’s wrong?” you whispered, trying to get him to look at you.

“I don’t know… It’s just…” he slowly began, rubbing his neck.

“What?”

He paused for a moment until he finally met your gaze. His lips slightly parted, as if he wanted to say something only to press them together again. Slowly you reached out for his hand that was loosely placed on his knee, to which he flinched.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to-” you began, but then you felt him clasping your hand with both of his. You felt his thumb drawing circles on the back of your hand, giving you goosebumps which you hoped he didn’t see in the candle-lit room. You’ve never touched his skin before, never deliberately. It was always an accidental brush, that made your face turn hot. But now he held your hand in both of his.

His gaze shot up to your eyes, his thumb continuously stroking the back of your hand.

“I always thought you’d figure it out at some point,” he said softly, his eyes shifting between yours. “But you never did.”

You felt your stomach drop.

“Figure out what?” you whispered.

Another crash of thunder made both of you flinch. After the rumble slowly settled, Eddie bent down over your bed, rummaging through his backpack.

“Here,” he said, placing his headphones on your ears, before he opened his Walkman, turning over the cassette that had been inside and hitting play.

Some keyboard. A guitar riff.

“Lie down,” he whispered, catching you off guard.

“What?”

“Come on, lie down,” he repeated, before blowing out the candle and lying down on your bed, motioning for you to do the same. Reluctantly you did as you were told, lying down next to your best friend you were secretly in love with, while there was a storm raging outside and rain pounding against your window.

You turned your head to the side and caught Eddie watching you listening to the song he had put on, when you realized that he was still holding your hand.

To be something, to be with you Don’t say that you’ll never know

He mouthed the words along, making the back of your head tingle.

Half the time it could seem funny The other half is just too sad This west bound moon’s They rise and fall Lost you and I want you today

Slowly he brought up his other hand to your face, gently stroking your cheek with his thumb, before he gulped and anxiously looked from one of your eyes to the other.

Love to love to love you

You felt your stomach doing a flip. Too many thoughts were racing through your head, but when Eddie propped himself up on his elbows, his face hovering above yours, your mind went blank.

His gaze fell from your lips back to your eyes, his expression nervous, as if he was waiting for some sign, for your permission. Without wasting another second you pulled him down to your face by his collar, planting a short and soft kiss on his lips. When you opened your eyes, you loosened your grip, seeing the surprise in his eyes. For a second you thought you misread things when his lips pulled into a smile.

Slowly he bent down, lifting your chin with both his thumb and his index finger to his mouth. Your noses brushed against each other when he carefully kissed your upper lip, before turning to the lower. Softly you parted his lips with yours, a muffled moan escaping his mouth. Carefully you slid one of your hands up his neck into his hair, while the other was still grasping his collar. You never wanted to let him go and you didn’t know if you ever could. Your kisses slowly grew more passionate, more urgent, as the tip of his tongue slowly found its way to yours, gently brushing it, while his thumb was firmly running along your jawline.

Another crash of thunder made both of you flinch, causing you to break apart from each other, both of you gasping for air.

Eddie’s dark eyes darted from your eyes to your lips, looking both intoxicated and hungry, like an animal that has been starving and finally had gotten to eat. You probably had the same look on your face.

You took off his headphones, slowly propping yourself up on your knees, being less than an inch away from his face. You felt his hand cup the side of your face, his thumb brushing over your lips before pulling you in another passionate kiss. Eddie’s chest pressed against yours and as you felt something hard brush against your thigh another moan escaped his mouth, making him gasp for air and immediately pull away from you.

Red-faced he cleared his throat, trying to avoid your intoxicated gaze. You took a deep breath and looked out the window, realizing that the thunderstorm had moved on. Dizzily you fell back on your back, faintly hearing the beginning of the next song of Eddie’s mixtape playing while staring up at your ceiling.

When you closed your eyes you felt Eddie lying back down beside you.

“I’m in love with you,” he whispered. Your eyes fluttered back open and when you turned to look at him you now found him to be the one looking up at the ceiling.

“I have been for some time now.” he said softly, before clearing his throat, “And I didn’t want to tell you because I was scared it might mess up our friendship.”

You were silent for a few seconds, taking in what he’d just said.

“I’m in love with you too, Eddie.”

His face abruptly turned towards you. Softly, you let your fingers trace his features, his eyebrows, his nose, and his cupid's bow before carefully tracing the curve of his jawline.

“I’m madly in love with you,” you whispered, to which his lips pulled into a wide smile, pulling you closer to him. Your noses brushed against each other, as you looked into each other’s eyes, softly planting kisses on each other’s faces, while the rain continued to pound against your window and the thunder rumbled further in the distance…

[moonstruckme]

Hi Mae!! Congrats on 7K, and happy late birthday!

I would love to req an apple pie with Spencer (the way you write him is soooOOO cute) and ²⁸⁾ dark lipstick smeared on a cheek, possibly also along with ¹⁴⁾ laddered tights if it makes sense to you, but just the first one is ofc totally cool <3

Thank you for all the fics, the way you write is so so gorgeous and gives me a lot of comfort

Thank you angel!! I'm glad to have you here :)

cw: mention (implied mention?) of alcohol

Spencer Reid x fem!reader ♡ 578 words

Spencer finds you on the floor below his. You’re standing dejectedly outside a closed door with your arms folded across your chest. 

“Hi,” he says. 

You turn, your mouth falling open in surprise and glee. “Spence!” You start walking to meet him. “I was just talking to you on the phone!” 

“I know you were.” He accepts the hug you offer him. You smell like the lotion you use before going out, and it overpowers the smell of bar. “You were upset I wasn’t coming to the door.” 

“Yeah, because you weren’t.” You seem to remember your upset now, pulling away so you can frown at him. 

Spencer tucks away his smile. “I don’t live here, honey. I’m one floor up.” 

Your gaze moves away from his face, your brows furrowing. “Oh.” 

“But I can take you back there now,” he offers. 

Any trace of a frown vanishes. You’re simpering up at him. “Spencer Reid,” you say in a voice like honey, “you wanna take me back to your place?” 

“I—uh, isn’t that why you came here?” 

“No, it is.” You bite your lip, trying and failing to tamp down your grin. “It just sounds extra fun when you say it.” 

“If you say so.” Spencer laughs, and it comes out sounding more awkward than he would’ve liked. 

Your smile softens. You put your hand in his, letting him lead you back to the elevator. Your touch feels warm and sure. 

“Did you have a good time out?” he asks, pressing the button for his floor with a knuckle and then using his thumb to wipe at a bit of lipstick that’s smeared onto your cheek. Clearly at some point during your night out you’d forgotten you were wearing makeup. There’s also a long tear stretching up from the knee of your tights. 

“Yeah,” you reply, your cheek dimpling under his touch. Spencer lowers his hand, and you watch it go. “I missed you, though.” 

“I’m glad you came over. Did someone give you a ride here?” 

“No, I walked.” You’re still watching his hand. Spencer thinks about putting it back on your face, even though he has no excuse to anymore. Maybe you need two points of contact. 

“I would have come and gotten you,” he says. 

“I like walking. The air felt nice. It’s getting cooler out at night.” 

“Yeah, it is nice.” You’re close enough that he can reach down and lightly graze your laddered tights with his fingers. It’s a chaste tough, just above your knee, but still you shiver as if the chill outside has followed you in. 

The elevator dings. 

“Thanks for letting me stay,” you say as he lets you into his apartment. He didn’t lock the door for the short trip downstairs, though he knows several members of his team would have something to say about it if they knew. “Maybe tomorrow we can go for coffee or something. Let me get you a hot drink to celebrate the cool weather, and to say thank you.” 

“You can stay here anytime,” Spencer says, just to know that you’ve heard him say it. It’s not the first time he has. He watches you go straight for the bedroom, for the drawer in his closet where your pajamas are kept. “But coffee would be good, yeah, if—if you still want to tomorrow.” 

You laugh, turning to look at him over your shoulder. “Of course I’ll still want to. I always want to.”

[only-1-a]

Imagining this within the first week of Charles and Edwin knowing each other. Charles has helped Edwin catch up on a BIT of what’s happened in the last 70 years, but Edwin can tell that Charles’ knowledge and strengths are not in history (finding out there was an even worse world war right after The Great War was certainly horrific though). So Edwin decides his best bet is to look in the public archives. Charles is sitting in the room with him absolutely bored out of his skull when he comments “Wow, you weren’t joking about not being great at people, were you?”

To which Edwin’s patience runs out, and he snidely responds, “Evidently not. If my researching the events of the last seventy years is so off-putting to you, then you can leave.”

Edwin was expecting some kind of token protest, but instead Charles just hops up, and says, “Cheers mate. See you.” Then LEAVES. Just like that. Edwin would like to be offended, but he supposes he did tell Charles to go. He just thought there would have been more to it than that? It almost feels…anticlimactic. At least he and Charles barely knew each other. Better to cut their losses now than get attached. Even as he thinks it he can’t help but feel maybe he was already growing attached.

So he spends the whole day digging through the archive and he learns so much about the past half century. It’s amazing and daunting just how much as changed. No wonder Charles hadn’t been able to go over even a fraction of it. It’s like the world is a completely different place.

He’s engrossed in his research when a head pops in through the door, and violently startles him with a cheerful, “Hey mate!” Edwin doesn’t have a heartbeat, but if he did it would be running a mile a minute from that fright. Charles is just grinning as he walks through the door. “I have to say, that’s my favourite part of being dead so far. I can just walk through walls.” Charles continues to chat happily, completely oblivious to Edwin’s shock.

Eventually Edwin gains enough of his senses back to interrupt Charles and say, “You came back.”

Charles just cocks his head, but he’s still smiling. “Yeah bruv. You’ve been here ALL DAY. The sun’s started going down. I know we don’t need to eat or sleep, but I figure you should take a break. Plus all the people playing football at the park left, so I got bored.”

Edwin doesn’t quite know what to say to that. He’s still working on the fact Charles came back. Charles hadn’t planned on leaving in any permanent way. He just went to do his own thing while Edwin did his. Yet instead of anything intelligent coming out of his mouth, he says “Football?”

“Oh c’mon! I know you had football even a thousand years ago. Yeah, I went to play with some other guys at the park across the street.”

Edwin snorts at that, and isn’t that a strange and wonderful feeling, laughing after all this time. He doesn’t even know if he did it often before he went to Hell, but here Charles has been making him laugh on and off for the week they’ve known each other. “Yes, we had football. You’ll have to explain how you managed to play a team sport without being seen by either team. You are right though. If it’s getting dark out, they’ll be turning the lights out in here soon. We might as well leave for the day.”

“Cheers. Mostly it involved messing with the ball so it went the wrong way when they kicked it. Oh! I kicked one over a fence. Do you think we can go grab it? How about your day? Learn anything exciting?”

Edwin leads them out, and now in a much better mood he shares something he thinks Charles will enjoy. “As a matter of fact, there was quite a lot about how music evolved, and styles from the Americas really took off since the 20s.”

[cherubharrington]

I only have eyes for you

18+mdni

Authors note: this is part 2 to Rafe staring at reader.

You tried to rationalize him staring at you. Especially that intensely. Maybe he was zoning out. You decided to chalk it up as that. To not think so hard on it.

Until he did it more times than one. His eyes moved any direction you did.

You felt your niece tuck at the bottom of your dress. You looked down at her as she stared up at you. She gesticulated for you to come closer, so you bend on your knees to hear what she had to say.

“Why is that guy staring at you?” She whispered into your ear. So you weren’t the only one who saw that. “He’s creepy.”

You don’t know how you caught the attention of Rafe Cameron. You never would have assumed you were even on his radar. You always had your nose in a book. There wasn’t anything you thought made anyone think you were interesting. Which you took offense too because you felt like you were actually more interesting than people would think. But you knew you couldn’t control how people felt about you. So you just ignored it.

But Rafe Cameron? That was weird and didn’t make any sense to you.

“Don’t worry about it. He’s probably just zoning out.” But even your niece wasn’t convinced.

A few more instances of this occurred, and you were confused. You didn’t understand why he was staring so much. You tried to ignore it but finally, it was like he knew you were frustrated. He had finally decided to approach you.

“Hey, I’m Rafe Cameron. But you probably know that already.” He said smugly.

“Yes, Rafe. I know who you are. You’re all any girl can talks bout.” You say, annoyed. He smiles at you, his gaze drinking you in from head to toe. It’s silent as he does so, you can’t exactly hide from him. Your crop top and low rise denim shorts, didn’t really leave much to the imagination.

“So, how come I didn’t see you until midsummers?”

“We just moved here. Like two months back. Wasn’t really in the mood to go into the heat when the ac did me just fine.” He smiles at you, his hands finding yours. Rubbing his thumb on your skin.

“A pretty girl like you coop up in her room for two months. Must have been boring.” A blush appears on your face, betraying you. “You don’t have to worry about being bored anymore.”

His dick was deep inside of you, your hands on the sides of his face. You watched as he disappeared into you and out again.

“Fuck, this pussy.” He says, he’s bending your legs back for easier access. His hands on your thighs. “I couldn’t wait to get my hands on you.” He grunted.

“Fuck, Rafe. I-“

“Yeah, yeah. You love my dick huh? Can’t even speak.” His thrusts speeds up, more violent as he does so.

“Mhm. I love your dick.” You breathe out. He lets go of your legs, allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist. He cups your face, bringing your face up to stare at him. “Pretty girl. So fucking pretty. Look at you, the way I’m destroying you. You’re mine. Never letting anyone take you now.”

The lewd noises of him thrusting in you fills the room. You can’t even think, but a part of you is conscious enough to think “did I just make a mistake?”

Taglist

@sublimepenguinpeach-blog @queenvane64 @modesttiger

[ninjatrashpanda]

Home (Home is wherever I'm with You)

Written for @bucktommypositivityweek Round Two. Day Seven: "Predict the Future." Read on AO3 here.

“Oh yeah,” Buck exclaimed, handing another freshly washed plate to Tommy to dry. Evenings like this one were becoming more and more common. Buck and Tommy would meet up at Tommy’s house or Buck’s loft after their shifts, cook and eat dinner together, do the dishes together, and then settle down on the couch for a movie Tommy wanted to see, or a documentary to fuel Buck’s latest hyperfixation before heading to bed, either for a round of ‘Was I a good boy, Daddy?’ or to just sleep, depending on how tired they were after work. “My lease runs out in three months. Remind me that I have to talk to my landlord about a new one.”

Tommy nodded, putting the now dry plate on top of the stack next to him. “I can remind you, but have you thought about maybe… I don’t know… not renewing it?” His tone was casual, as it usually was, but Buck could tell that he was nervous from the way the blue of his eyes seemed to waver. For all that Tommy knew how to mask his facial expressions, Buck had quickly learned that his eyes had the tendency to betray him as long as you knew what to look for.

Buck let out a small chuckle, reaching for another plate, one of his eyebrows rising in confusion. “Not renewing?” he echoed, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “And what? Move into the station full time?”

Tommy laughed, shaking his head. “Not quite what I had in mind. I was thinking more… you know, here. At my place.”

An odd sense of quiet spread through the room for a moment, despite the soft clinking of silverware and the gentle hum of the dishwasher running behind them. It wasn’t an out-of-the-blue proposal, not really. In fact, Buck figured, they’d been tiptoeing around it for weeks, maybe months. Their evenings together were less about convenience and more about the deep comfort they’d found in each other’s company, the quiet routines they’d built together. On nights when their shifts kept them apart, Buck deeply missed and outright craved Tommy, and not just in the sexual sense either. He’d realized a while ago that he really didn’t want to be apart from his boyfriend for any extended amount of time.

“You… You want me to move in with you?”

Tommy stopped drying for a second, focusing on folding the towel in his hands to avoid meeting Buck’s eyes. “Yeah, I do. I mean, we’re here all the time anyway, right? You’ve got a drawer, you’ve got space in the closet, half your stuff’s already in the bathroom. It just makes sense. Plus…" He finally looked up, his expression softening. “I like having you around, Evan. It feels… good. Natural.”

Buck didn’t respond immediately. He reached for the next dish, but instead of handing it over, he stared at the water droplets sliding down the ceramic, his mind working through the unspoken implications. He wasn’t scared, exactly. Living with Tommy had an appeal, a strong one, but it also carried weight. The last time he moved in with a partner had been an absolute disaster (and Buck was mature enough to acknowledge that it wasn’t fully or even mostly on Taylor either) and he really, really didn’t want his relationship with Tommy to go down the same path.

He finally spoke, voice steady but thoughtful. “I like being here with you too, Tommy, of course I do, I love you. It’s just… moving in, it’s a big step. You sure we’re ready for that?”

Tommy’s lips pressed together as he kept playing with his towel, his lower lip caught between his teeth. He didn’t want to push, and Buck knew and appreciated that. This wasn’t about trying to goad Buck into doing something he wasn’t ready for; it was about opening a door that, deep down, he already knew they both wanted to walk through.

“I get that it’s a big step,” Tommy finally said, his voice a touch softer, though still carrying that cadance of sincerity that Buck had become so familiar with. “I’m not trying to pressure you or make you feel like we have to do this now. But I’ve been thinking about it for a while, and… honestly, I’m ready if you are.” His eyes met Buck’s, unwavering, calm but warm, and full of love. “No rush, no pressure. Just… think about it.”

Buck let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, running a hand through his damp curls. There was a knot in his chest that he hadn’t quite figured out how to untangle, a mix of excitement, anxiety, and an old, familiar fear of things falling apart when they seemed to be going too well.

“I do love being here,” Buck admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, as if saying it too loudly might somehow jinx what they had. “And you’re right. Half my stuff’s already here. I just…” He paused, words getting caught somewhere between his heart and his throat. “I guess I’m scared, you know? Last time I moved in with someone, I made a whole bunch of mistakes. It was a bad idea, and we rushed into things and it got… messy.”

Tommy nodded, leaning against the counter, his fingers still absently twisting the towel. “I know what happened with Taylor wasn’t easy, Evan. But that was different. You were different. And I’m not her.” He took a step closer, closing the space between them, his hand finding Buck’s in the soapy sink. The warmth of Tommy’s touch grounded him, and for a second, the room felt smaller, quieter. More intimate.

“You’re not,” Buck agreed, his thumb tracing lazy circles on the back of Tommy’s hand. “And I don’t want to compare what we have to that. I just… I want to make sure we’re doing this for the right reasons. Not because it’s convenient or comfortable, but because it’s what we both really want.”

Tommy tilted his head slightly, his eyes searching Buck’s face as if trying to read the thoughts that Buck was too afraid to say out loud. “If you need to think about it, that’s okay. You know I’m not gonna hold it against you, right?”

Buck let out a small sigh, feeling the weight of Tommy’s words settle over him. He knew Tommy meant every word. There was no hidden agenda, no underlying expectation. He was simply being honest about what he wanted, but ready to let it go if Buck didn’t. And Buck knew that should he say no, Tommy would be disappointed, but nothing would change between them. Tommy would know that Buck declining now wasn’t a never, just a not at this point. And that was what made this relationship so different from all the others. It wasn’t built on fleeting passion or some burning need to be wanted. It was steady, patient, and real.

“I know,” Buck said, his voice a little more solid this time. He turned to look at Tommy, really look at him. The man who had somehow woven himself into the fabric of Buck’s everyday life without either of them really noticing it happening. Tommy was everything Buck never thought he needed. Calm where Buck was impulsive, thoughtful where Buck was driven by instinct. It made Buck feel safer than he had in a long time.

Tommy smiled, a soft, understanding curve of his lips. “There’s no rush, baby,” he said again, letting his hand squeeze Buck’s gently before releasing it and taking the next dish. “We can talk about it whenever you’re ready. Or not talk about it. Whatever works.”

*

“So, what’s bugging you?” Bobby asked as he threw Buck’s apron over to him. They’d just gotten back to the station after a minor fender bender (three mild injuries, no deaths) and after sending everyone off to do their chores, he had quickly roped Buck into making dinner with him. Buck should have known it was a set-up.

“Wow, okay,” he said, grabbing an onion to dice for the bolognese recipe Tommy had gotten from his Nonna, a recipe both Bobby and Buck had gotten obsessed with mastering. “Not even gonna try to butter me up first, huh?”

Bobby chuckled as he started chopping the garlic, his hands moving with the kind of ease that came from years of cooking for the station. “We both know I’m not great at subtlety,” he said, glancing up at Buck with a pointed look. “Besides, I can tell something’s been on your mind. Figured I’d cut to the chase.”

Buck sighed, shaking his head slightly as he focused on the onion in front of him. The sharp smell of it hit him as soon as he sliced into it, and the familiar sting of onion-tears started piecing his eyes. He really should’ve known Bobby would catch on. If not him, who?

“I don’t know, Cap,” Buck said, his voice softer than usual. “It’s kinda dumb, really. I’ve just been... thinking. A lot.”

Bobby didn’t respond right away, just kept working at the garlic, letting Buck find his way to whatever he needed to say. Buck appreciated it. He hated being pushed to answer, and it always made him feel like he had to justify himself for feeling things. Bobby leaving him air to breathe and sort his thoughts, even if he was a little embarrassed that Bobby could read him so readily.

Buck did appreciate it. But it did also make him squirm.

“You know you’re allowed to think about things,” Bobby said after a moment, keeping his tone light. “But sometimes you get stuck in your head, Buck. And I’m not sure that’s where you want to be right now.”

Buck dropped the knife on the cutting board with a sigh, the rhythmic chop-chop of onions halting as he wiped his hands on his apron. “It’s not that,” he muttered, staring down at the half-diced onion, almost willing it to give him answers.

“So what is it?”

Buck looked up, meeting Bobby’s eyes for the first time since the conversation had started. He could feel the weight of Bobby’s concern, genuine and steady, like the man was always a step ahead, trying to make sure everyone around him was okay.

He swallowed hard, trying to find the words. “Tommy asked me to move in with him, and I’m scared.”

Bobby raised an eyebrow, pausing his garlic chopping for a second before setting the knife down. “Scared?” His tone was gentle, but Buck could sense the surprise there. “Of moving in with Tommy, or… something else?”

Buck let out a long breath, the air thick with the smell of onions and garlic now, the comforting scents of a familiar meal that should have helped ease his tension but only seemed to magnify the knot twisting in his stomach. He looked down at the onion, pushing it around the board with the edge of his knife. The words were on the tip of his tongue, but it was like they didn’t want to come out. Talking about feelings was never easy for him, especially not the deep, vulnerable ones. But this… this was Bobby. The man who had been there through the worst and somehow still saw him, still believed in him.

“I don’t know,” Buck finally said, the words coming out in a rush, like if he didn’t say them now, they’d never come. “I’m not really scared of moving in, I’m scared of messing it all up like I did with Taylor.”

Bobby gave a small nod and a hum, his expression one of calm realization. He turned and resumed chopping the garlic, the steady sound of the knife hitting the cutting board filling the silence between them. Buck appreciated the way Bobby let the quiet hang, giving him the space to work through his tangled thoughts.

“I know I shouldn’t compare the two,” Buck said, frustration creeping into his voice. He resumed dicing the onion, his movements a little too quick, the sharp knife clattering against the board. “Tommy’s not Taylor and I’m not the same Buck that I was back then, but it’s like I can’t help it. Every time I think about taking the next step with him, my mind goes back to everything I did wrong with Taylor. How I thought I could make it work, despite everything, and then… well, you know how that went.”

Bobby set down his knife again, wiping his hands on a towel as he turned to fully face Buck. His gaze was steady, not judgmental, just patient. “Buck, you can’t beat yourself up over past mistakes forever. You’ve learned from them. That’s what matters.”

Buck frowned, his hands stilling for a moment as he considered Bobby’s words. “Yeah, but what if I haven’t learned enough? What if I mess this up too? Tommy… he’s important to me. Like, really important. I think he could be it, you know? And the last thing I want to do is hurt him or make things awkward between us.”

Bobby gave a small nod, leaning back against the counter as he crossed his arms. “I get that, Buck. Believe me, I do. But relationships aren’t about never making mistakes. They’re about being willing to learn and grow together. From what I’ve seen, you and Tommy are already doing that.”

Buck stared at the sloppy onion dices in front of him, the smell still sharp, mixing with the garlic Bobby had finished. “What if I can’t handle the pressure? I mean, living together is a big deal. I’m just not sure I’m ready.”

Bobby smiled faintly, a hint of warmth in his eyes as he watched Buck. “Do you want to be ready, though?”

Buck blinked. The question caught him off guard. It wasn’t something he had considered, at least not in those terms. Did he want to be ready? Of course he did, didn’t he? But then again, that was part of the problem. He wanted to be perfect, to have it all figured out before he took the leap. The thought of messing up, of failing, of somehow destroying what he and Tommy had, gnawed at him.

“I do,” Buck sighed, his voice quieter now, more thoughtful. “I just don’t want to screw this up, Bobby. I’ve done that too many times already. What if I’m just not meant for this? What if...”

Bobby held up a hand, stopping him gently but firmly. “Buck, stop.” He shook his head slightly, his tone soft but unwavering. “You’re not broken. You’ve been through a lot, and yeah, you’ve made mistakes. We all have. But that doesn’t mean you’re destined to keep repeating them.”

Buck felt a lump form in his throat. He hated how accurate Bobby’s assessment of him was. How often had he thought like that about himself? That he was somehow defective, doomed to fail at every relationship he tried to make work? It was like a heavy weight tied around his neck, one that seemed to make it harder and harder to keep his head up.

Bobby’s eyes softened as he kept speaking, his voice filled with that steady, reassuring calm Buck had come to rely on. “You’re allowed to be scared, Buck. It means this matters to you. But don’t let that fear keep you from something good. You and Tommy… you’ve got something worth fighting for. And from what I’ve seen, you’re both willing to put in the work.”

Buck swallowed, his eyes burning a little, though he wasn’t sure if it was from the onion or the sudden rush of emotions coursing through his body. He wiped his hands on his apron again, more out of habit than necessity. “I guess I’m just scared I’ll let him down,” he admitted quietly. Bobby had done it once again. He had peeled back every single one of Buck’s worries and doubts and had nailed exactly what the source of his issues was. “He deserves someone who’s... not a mess.”

Bobby shook his head, stepping closer and resting a hand on Buck’s shoulder. “Buck, you’re not a mess. You’re human. And Tommy knows that. You two are building something together, and that’s not something that happens overnight. It takes time, effort, and yeah, sometimes it takes stumbling a little along the way. But that doesn’t mean you’re not worthy of it.”

Buck looked up at Bobby, his throat tight, the knot in his stomach loosening just a little as he heard the words. He knew Bobby meant them. He could see it in his eyes, could hear it in his voice.

“Do you think I can do this?” Buck asked, his voice almost a whisper now.

Bobby’s smile was small but full of warmth. “I think you already are. You’re asking the right questions, thinking about it the way you should. You care enough to want to get it right. That’s what matters.”

Buck nodded slowly, feeling a little of the tension start to melt away. Bobby’s words had a way of doing that, of making things seem less impossible, less overwhelming. Maybe he didn’t have it all figured out yet, but maybe he didn’t need to. Maybe just wanting to do better, wanting to be there for Tommy, was enough for now.

“Thanks, Cap,” Buck said, his voice steadier now. “I guess I just needed to hear that.”

Bobby gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze before stepping back to the cutting board, picking up his knife and getting back to the garlic. “Anytime, Buck. And hey, when you move in with Tommy, don’t forget to keep practicing this bolognese. I’m counting on you to help me perfect it.”

Buck laughed, a real, genuine laugh that he hadn’t realized he needed. He picked up his knife again, the rhythm of chopping the onion coming more easily now, less frantic. “Deal. But only if you let me make the garlic bread.”

“Done,” Bobby said with a grin. “Now, let’s finish this before everyone starts complaining about being hungry.”

*

“This is the last one,” Tommy called, carrying a box down the stairs to Buck’s former bedroom. Buck, waiting at the base with a duffel bag slung over his shoulder and his suitcase by his side. “You had a lot less stuff than I expected, baby.”

Buck smiled, though it didn’t meet his eyes. “Yeah, it’s… I never really needed much, you know?”

It was true. Buck had, for all intents and purposes, been kind of a minimalist with the loft. He lived at the station half the time anyway, so he had never really tried to accessorize or anything. A few pictures of himself and his family, from Maddie and Bobby to Christopher and Jee-Yun were about the only things that he figured mattered. He loved his family, and being surrounded by them, even if it was only through photographs, always made him feel better.

“You okay?” Tommy asked, putting the box to the ground. And that… was a loaded question. Yes, Buck was okay, technically. He wanted this. He wanted to move in with Tommy, was okay with letting the loft go.

But this had still been his home for the last six years of his life. It was still the end of an era.

“Just… feeling a little nostalgic is all.”

Tommy nodded, an understanding smile making its way to his face. “Makes sense,” he said quietly, running his hand through his messy curls as he leaned against the doorframe. “You’ve been through a lot in this place.”

Buck sighed, his eyes drifting around the room, taking in the bare walls, the empty bookshelves, the absence of the things that had once made this place feel like his. There was a time when this loft had been a refuge, a place to heal after he had hit rock bottom more than once. He’d been here after the ladder truck had crushed his leg, after the tsunami, after the lightning strike. His relationships with Ali and Taylor and Natalia had ended here. He had spent weeks in here all alone when he had filed the lawsuit that had almost destroyed his relationships with the people that mattered most to him.

“Yeah,” he finally said, his voice soft. “A lot happened here.”

And yet, it had also been a sanctuary, a place of endless laughter, and some of the best parts of his life. Getting this place had made him feel like an adult for the first time in his life. He had felt independent in a way not even traveling across the country on his own had made him feel. He and Eddie had made up after the lawsuit in here, he and Christopher had spent countless hours pummeling each other in fighting games, he’d first seen Jee-Yun crawl in here when she had made her way from the door to the couch. He had even delivered his Conner and Kameron’s child in here.

Tommy and him had shared their first kiss here.

Tommy watched him carefully, his eyes twinkling with fondness. “You don’t have to let it all go, you know,” he said, voice gentle. “You can take the memories with you.”

Buck smiled at that, the kind of smile that cracked through the melancholy even though it still didn’t quite fill out his face. “I know. It’s just… this place has seen every part of me, you know? The mess, the mistakes, the times I got back up again. It’s hard to leave that behind.”

“I get it,” Tommy murmured, stepping closer, his hand brushing lightly against Buck’s arm. “And it’s normal. Leaving your old home for a new one is always hard.”

Buck’s gaze softened as he looked at Tommy, grateful for the way he understood, the way he just… got it. That was one of the things that had made Buck fall for him in the first place. Tommy knew how to be present, how to listen without forcing an answer or solution.

“Moving in with you,” Buck said, looking down at the duffel bag and then back at the empty space around him, “it feels right. I just didn’t expect it to feel this… complicated too.”

Tommy chuckled softly and leaned in to kiss Buck’s temple, his arm moving around Buck’s shoulders. “Change always is. Even the good ones. But look, we don’t have to rush anything. If you need more time, I—”

“No,” Buck interrupted, though his tone was gentle. “I’m ready. I really am. I want this—us.” He turned to pull Tommy into a slow, soft kiss, resting his forehead against Tommy’s. “I think I just need a second to say goodbye to this place, you know?”

Tommy squeezed his hand, a warm smile lighting up his face. “Take all the time you need.”

Buck turned back toward the loft, his heart heavy but steady, while Tommy went to grab the box and stand in the doorway. Buck walked slowly around the room, letting his fingers graze the walls, each touch bringing back fragments of the life he’d lived here. The first time he’d stood in the kitchen, fresh from a shift, feeling like he was finally becoming the man he wanted to be. The nights he’d stayed awake, trying not to let his loneliness get to him, wondering if he’d ever be enough for anyone. The day Maddie had come home after getting treated for her PPD. The moment Eddie had told him that Chris thought of him as a hero, a title Buck never felt like he deserved but wore like armor anyway.

He stepped out onto the balcony, the Los Angeles skyline glowing with the soft hues of the setting sun. The view had always been one of his favorite parts of this place. It reminded him that, no matter how chaotic life got, the world kept turning, kept moving. And so did he.

With a deep breath, Buck finally allowed t’he tears that had built behind his lids to flow free, feeling the weight of six years lift from his shoulders. This place had been his sanctuary, his shelter. But now, he realized, it had also been his cocoon. It had kept him safe while he grew, while he healed. But he wasn’t the same man who had first walked through that door all those years ago. He was ready to spread his wings and step into something new.

Something with Tommy.

He stepped back in, his heart full but at peace, and caught Tommy’s eye. “I think I’m good now,” he said softly, smiling—a real, genuine smile this time.

Tommy grinned, his eyes twinkling with that infectious warmth that had always made Buck feel grounded. “Good. Because I was starting to think I’d have to carry all your boxes back up.”

Buck laughed, the sound light and free, cutting through the bittersweet air. “You’re hilarious. But no, I won’t strain your back like that, old man.”

“Oh, okay. I see how it is!” Tommy shot back, his expression playful as Buck picked up his suitcase and duffel bag. “Come on, let’s get out of here before you change your mind.”

Tommy grabbed the last box, and together, they headed for the door. Just before stepping through, Buck paused one last time, looking back over his shoulder at the loft. He let the memories settle in his mind, like pictures into a photo album.

“Goodbye,” he whispered, not to the loft itself, but to the man he used to be inside it. Then, he turned to join Tommy in the hallway. “Let’s go home.”

[bellamer]

I’m gonna start posting images of like what I mean for my body headcanons for BG3 characters so like

Halsin: Built like John Goodman from when he played Fred Flinstone or Dan Connor, tall, big, imposing but still very gentle giant and Dan Connor is kinda what I mean when I mean fatjacked, John Goodman is what I think of when I think “built like an actual bear” so like just John Goodman in general for Halsin since his weight and shape fluctuates and I think Halsin’s does too depending on the season

Astarion: David Bowie, Thin White Duke describes Astarion to a T so like yeah. Obvious as hell if I do say so myself

Karlach: Already said she’s built like Jackie from Love Lies Bleeding or for another comparison Rhea Ripley. Just like 15% to 20% bigger

Shadowheart: The closest thing I could find that describes how I think she’s built is Marylin Monroe in these pictures but like 15% to 20% more body fat if that makes sense ?

Gale: I’m a firm fat Gale believer and people don’t like that but I don’t really care so but I’ve already headcanoned Gale as being built like John Candy, Chris Farley and most recently Matt Berry and I can’t find pictures of any of them shirtless besides Chris Farley and any photos I find of him in the Chippendales skit is very low quality so here’s the best one. And I know certain people don’t find fat bodies attractive but I’m not one of them so while this skit was meant to be a joke targeting fat people, his body is just as hot to me as everyone else on this list.

Wyll: Anthony Mackie. He has the muscles, the waist and the cake. Nothing more to be said. Exactly what I think of when I think of Wyll. Just maybe 5% smaller

To be continued because I have to find a picture for Lae’Zel because I can’t find any examples of bottom heavy yet flat chested celebrities to use as an example like it’s actually aggravating and annoying because I know they exist. Like Shadowheart was a struggle too because I don’t even headcanon Marylin as her body type, it’s just the closest example I could find. Gale was also a struggle but I just settled on it.

[angel-gone-dark]

Kyle x Coquette girlie pretty please with sugar on top. 🤭

Kyle x Coquette!F!Reader

ok so like. i went off here. um, hope you like it bestie LMAO

CWs: unprotected sex, reader is a little bit of a shit, maybe a lil rough?

SMUT UNDER CUT. MDNI.

୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧

Kyle raised a brow at his friends in the hallway, who were all in various states of confusion. 

“What the hell are you all staring at?” He snipped, and Cartman pointed across the hall.

“Dude, look at her outfit. I’ve never seen anything like it.” 

Kyle looked over at the girl who had been pointed out. She was surrounded by the other girls, talking and laughing. He was entranced with the way she moved, flipping her hair over her shoulder. He’d never seen someone dress the way she did, her outfit consisting of white lace and pink bows. The mary janes on her feet clicked against the tiles any time she shuffled her pose. He swallowed, forcing his eyes back onto his friends. 

“Yeah? What, uh, what about it?” He asked.

Cartman cocked his head to the side, “What is she even going for?”

“Who cares, it works,” Kenny grinned. “She looks fucking hot.”

Kyle couldn’t help but agree. Her skirt was short over her tights, shirt showing off the smooth skin of her shoulders. He couldn’t help but shiver at the thought of it pressed against him, especially the skin on her chest and thighs. He had to take some deep breaths, attempting to force his boner down. Kyle was saved, literally, by the bell. He dashed off to his class, trying his hardest to ignore the pretty girl- and the bewildered cries of his friends.

୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧

The ginger slid his fingers through his curls, squinting down at his textbooks in frustration. He jotted down notes, rereading them at least 5 times over to make sure they made sense. He jumped, looking up with wide eyes when he was joined at the table… by the girl he was looking at earlier. You.

“Uh, hey,” he greeted. “Do you need something?”

“Yeah, I hear you’re a really good tutor. Can I get you to look over my work quickly?” You batted your lashes at him and he was suddenly extremely glad he was sitting down. 

“Yeah, yes of course,” He nodded, taking your notebook from you to glance over your notes. “This looks really good, but I think you have an error right here.”

You hummed, nodding. You contorted your face into your cutest pout, absolutely indulging in his eyes on you. 

“I don’t understand,” you huffed, moving your chair closer to him and pressing your chest up against his arm. 

He stammered trying to muster a reply, “W-well, uh, here. Look at the way I broke it down in my notes.”

Throughout his whole ‘tutoring’ thing, you acted your absolute cutest. If you were being entirely honest, you’d had your eyes on him from the moment you saw him. You were heavily repressing the urge to jump his bones in the very public library.

“You know, I think you should come to my house after school. I could use some more help,” you suggested, leaning further into him. 

His face was tinged deep with a blush that went from the tops of his ears down, down… you gnawed your lip thinking how far it reached. 

“Y-yeah. Okay,” he gave in. “Where do you…”

You interrupted him, “Meet me after school. We’ll walk together, handsome.”

He gaped as you retreated from the library, your little date secure. 

୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧

You waited for Kyle near the school’s main entrance, books clutched close to your chest. Your sickly sweet smile returned as he approached, and you gave him that innocent look that you knew would drive him nuts.

“Hi, Kyle,” you had put on your most charming voice. “Thanks for walking me home and helping me with homework.”

“No problem,” he smiled and it nearly took you out. “Can you scooch over? I’d rather be the one walking on the outside of the sidewalk.”

Oh, he was going to be the death of you. The walk to your house was mostly quiet, Kyle seeming content with the silence.

You opened your door, gesturing for him to follow you, and led him all the way up to your room. You sat pretty on your bed, tilting your head at him. He glanced around, trying to avoid your hungry gaze draping down him. You sighed gently, combing your fingers up your body to untie the ribbon holding your hair in its graceful ponytail. He sat in your desk chair, moving his textbook over his lap.

You stood, waltzing right on over and placing your hand over the thick book between you and heaven.

“Hiding something?” You teased, pressing down on it. 

He grabbed your wrist in his hand, speaking through grit teeth, “Stop it.” 

“Or what?” You taunted. He had had enough of your attitude. 

Kyle stood, grabbed you by the hips, and tossed you onto the mattress. He leaned over you, voice strained and hands gripping the sheets. 

“You’re making it extremely difficult for me to stay decent, do you know that? You asked me to help you study, and here I am trying, and you’re giving me those goddamn eyes,” he rambled, more frustrated than you had expected. “I can’t tell if you’re giving me permission to touch you like I want to.”

“Do it.”

As soon as he had your permission he was ravishing your lips with his, his hands moving to squeeze eagerly at your chest as he practically shoved his tongue down your throat. 

“You’re so fucking pretty, honey,” he breathed, face dipping to nip at your neck. “Why can’t you be this good all the time, hm?” 

You groaned as his lips moved downwards, and he left purpley blue hickeys on your skin. Those would be hard to cover, and you would have been angrier if one of his hands hadn’t moved under your skirt to stroke your slit through your tights and panties.

“Sorry about this, but the damn things are in the way.” He huffed, ripping a hole directly in the crotch of your tights.

As you made a move to protest, his deft fingers moved your panties to the side, thumb rolling over your clit and index plunging into you. You gasped, back arching under his touch as he stretched you out, adding his middle finger as well.

“Kyle, please.” You whined.

“Please what, pretty? Use your manners.” 

“Please just fuck me.” 

He chuckled, fingers curling inside of you teasingly, “Since you asked so nicely.”

You whimpered at how empty you felt as he retracted his fingers to undo his belt and jeans, leaning up on your elbows to watch. As he pulled his cock out of his boxers, you couldn’t help but salivate. He was thick, and wet, and blushing an angry pink at the tip. It twitched as he touched it to glide it against your slit, making you moan.

He was eager, too eager to properly undress either of you. All he did was flip your skirt up as he sunk into you, his jaw hanging open as he allowed you to adjust. 

“Shit, you’re tight,” he grunted, rolling his hips harshly into yours. “Atta girl, you can take it. C’mere.”

He pressed his lips on yours again as he began to move, pace quickly rising from the simple grind of his hips to roughly pound into your cunt. Your eyes fell shut, hands clawing at your cute pink bedspread. 

“K-Kyle, fuck.” You heaved, hips bucking up into his.

“Such a dirty mouth on you, gorgeous…” He smirked down at you, thumb moving back to roll over your clit. “Do you want me to make you cum on my cock?”

“Please, please, I need it, Kyle.” You begged, all sense of dignity out the window as he plunged in and out of you with wet slaps.

“Good girl. Such a good girl,” he groaned, increasing the pressure of his tight little circles. “So cute f’me.”

His cock twitched inside you, and he dropped his drooling mouth to your neck again, biting down hard before whispering in your ear.

“I’m gonna cum inside you, honey, you can take it. Fuck.”

You couldn’t hold it any longer, the tight coil that rested in your abdomen snapping suddenly as you came with a cry. You gripped him so tight he could barely move as he ground his hips down into you, his release not far behind, spilling warmth inside of you.

“Shit,” he cursed, gently pulling himself from your hole. “If you look this good with my cum dripping out of you we might be here for a while.”

୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧

he owes reader a pair of tights!!!!

word count: 1411

[ducktoo]

Syncing Dream [Aespa x M!Reader]

5. Ramen Breakdown

Note: thanks for showing interested in the series guys! Enjoy the fluff!

It had become something of a tradition.

After a long day of rehearsals, performances, or just surviving the chaotic world of the entertainment industry, Y/n would whip up some ramen for aespa (especially the bougee ramen that Winter always loved).

It wasn’t anything fancy, but somehow, Y/n had developed a reputation for making *perfect* ramen—something the girls had come to crave after late nights at the dorm ever since. No smoke alarms, no burnt pots. Just good old-fashioned comfort food.

But tonight was different.

Y/n had come over as usual, ready to make their favourite midnight snack as requested. The girls were all lounging around the living room, exhausted but still in good spirits after wrapping up some last-minute practice for their next performance.

Giselle was scrolling through her phone, while Ningning and Winter were sprawled out on the couch, chatting about the latest drama they were binge-watching. Karina sat in the corner, quietly observing the scene, the usual tension between her and Y/n slightly less palpable these days.

Everything seemed to be going smoothly at first. Y/n pulled out the usual ingredients, boiling the water and preparing the ramen just as he always did. The girls continued their chatter, the atmosphere relaxed and comfortable. It felt like any other night.

Until it wasn’t.

-

"Ya pabo, are you sure about this?" Winter called out from the couch, her tone half-joking, half-serious.

"Of course I am," Y/n responded, stirring the noodles with a grin. "I’ve been doing this for you for ages now. You know I’m basically a ramen expert."

"Yeah, but something feels off tonight," Giselle chimed in, her eyes flicking up from her phone. "I don’t know, maybe it’s just the vibe."

"The vibe?" Y/n was genuinely confused. "It’s just ramen, girls. Nothing to worry about. You watched too much K-drama now."

But then, without warning, the pot of water began bubbling more aggressively than usual. Y/n furrowed his brow, confused. He hadn’t changed anything about the recipe, and yet the water seemed to be boiling faster than normal. The noodles began to overcook, turning mushy, and the smell of burnt soup base wafted into the air.

"Dafuq...?" Y/n muttered, turning the heat down and trying to salvage the situation.

The girls all perked up, sensing something was wrong.

"Is something burning?" Ningning asked, sitting up straight on the couch.

"Y/n, what’s going on?" Karina asked, her voice slightly more serious now as she stood up from her spot.

"I don’t know," Y/n replied, frantically stirring the pot. "This has never happened before. It’s like the stove’s acting up or something."

Just then, the pot began to hiss and steam poured out, signalling that something had gone horribly wrong. The ramen broth, once the highlight of Y/n’s midnight snacks, had turned into a thick, sludgy mess.

"Uh... okay, this is definitely not normal," Y/n admitted, stepping back from the stove with wide eyes.

Before he could react further, the smoke alarm blared to life once again. The loud, piercing sound echoed through the dorm, sending everyone into a frenzy.

"Oh shit!" Giselle exclaimed, leaping off the couch as Winter raced to open the windows.

"Oppa, what did you do this time?" Ningning shouted over the alarm, already laughing despite the chaos.

"I swear, I didn’t do anything different!" Y/n yelled back, grabbing a towel and waving it under the smoke detector to stop the blaring noise.

Karina, despite her usual composed demeanour, let out an exasperated sigh and joined in the effort to fan away the smoke. Giselle ran over to the stove, trying to help, but the pot of ramen had already turned into an unrecognisable disaster.

"It’s like you’re cursed today," Karina said, her voice tinged with disbelief. “You’re like Junpei from JJK.”

Y/n couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. "I think you might be right. Mahito is trolling with me today."

-

Eventually, the smoke cleared, and the alarm finally quieted down. The girls, though slightly frazzled, were still giggling uncontrollably as they surveyed the damage. The pot was beyond saving, the ramen reduced to a sad, burnt sludge at the bottom.

"Okay, what just happened?" Giselle asked, wiping away tears from laughing so hard. "You’re usually so good at this."

"I genuinely don’t know" Y/n threw his hands up in defeat. "I swear I followed the exact same steps as always. This doesn’t make any sense."

Winter came over, inspecting the charred remains of the ramen with a teasing grin. "I think you’ve lost your touch, idiot. Maybe you should retire from cooking."

"And let you cook? Helll no" Y/n said, playfully defensive. "It’s just a one-time fluke. I’ll get it right next time."

Ningning, still laughing, pulled out her phone. "I’m totally sending this to the group chat. Youngji and Yunjin will love this."

Y/n groaned but didn’t stop her. He was too busy trying to figure out what went wrong. "This has never happened before..."

"Maybe you just need a break,” Karina said, her tone surprisingly soft. She handed Y/n a glass of water and gave him a small, almost teasing smile. "Even ramen connoisseur have off days."

Y/n accepted the glass, grateful for the gesture. Despite the tension that had lingered between them for weeks, moments like this—when they could share a laugh over something as simple as ramen—made things feel a little lighter.

-

After the chaos of the ramen incident had settled and the group had resumed their usual banter, the atmosphere in the dorm was light and carefree again. Y/n lounged back on the couch, the failed ramen saga now just a funny memory that would definitely live in aespa’s dorm history. The girls, still buzzing with laughter, circled around him, offering their usual teasing remarks and grateful smiles.

However, just when Y/n thought the night couldn’t get any weirder, Winter suddenly blurted out something that caught everyone off guard.

"You know what?" she said, stretching her arms over her head. "We should ask the CEO if idiot can move in with us."

Y/n choked on his drink, nearly spitting it out as he sat up straight. "Wait, what?!"

Giselle burst out laughing, while Ningning’s eyes lit up like it was the best idea she’d ever heard. "Oh my god, yes! It would make everything so much easier," Ningning agreed, nodding enthusiastically. "He’s always here anyway, and he’s practically our fifth member already."

"And imagine how convenient it would be," Giselle added with a mischievous grin. "We’d have our very own sl- I mean, chef, and he could handle all of the stuff that happens around here. No more running back and forth to help us at weird hours."

Y/n shook his head, trying to wrap his mind around the idea. "Guys, I’m not moving in. That’s not how this works."

Winter, undeterred, leaned forward with an innocent look on her face. "Why not? You’re here almost every day anyway. It would just make sense.”

Karina, who had been quiet during the initial exchange, smirked from her corner of the room. "I’m pretty sure the company would say no, but it’s an interesting idea."

Y/n’s eyes darted to Karina, a mix of surprise and amusement on his face. "Even you think it’s interesting?"

She shrugged, a teasing glint in her eyes. "It would definitely keep things organised. Plus, I wouldn’t mind having someone else to share the responsibility of keeping everyone in check."

"Exactly!" Winter chimed in. "And we wouldn’t have to call him at three in the morning to come fix the Wi-Fi or handle random emergencies."

Y/n groaned, but he couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips. "You guys seriously don’t want me to have days off, do you?"

"Not when it comes to convenience," Ningning quipped, her grin widening. "But seriously, let’s ask the CEO tomorrow."

Y/n opened his mouth to protest, but before he could say anything, Winter pulled out her phone and began typing furiously. "I’m sending him a text right now."

"Wait, Minjeong, no—“

But it was too late. Winter hit send, and the room filled with the girls’ laughter as Y/n buried his face in his hands. "Oh god, I’m going to lose my job over this," he muttered, only half-joking.

"Relax," Winter said, patting him on the shoulder. "He’ll probably think it’s funny. Besides, it’s not like we’re really expecting him to say yes.”

"I hope not," Y/n sighed, still overwhelmed by the entire situation.

“I bet 100 bucks he will move in” Giselle challenged.

“Aeri….” Y/n sighed. “I bet a month I’ll personally cook ramen for y’all”

“Deal, mister.” And they shook hand, with the remaining members stood as witness.

-

A few weeks had passed since Winter’s wild suggestion to the CEO, and Y/n had almost forgotten about the whole ordeal. Between managing aespa’s hectic schedule and his usual barrage of tasks, he’d pushed the whole “moving in” idea to the back of his mind. Surely, the company wouldn’t allow something as outrageous as that, right?

But Y/n’s life was never that simple.

One day, as he was going over some documents in the practice room, his phone buzzed again—this time with an official company email. His eyes scanned the message, and his heart dropped as he read the first few lines.

“Dear Y/n,

we’re writing to inform you that, due to recent scheduling and logistical changes, your move into the aespa dorm has been approved. Your role as manager will now include living in close proximity to the group to ensure better coordination and efficiency…”

Y/n blinked, reading the words again to make sure his tired brain wasn’t messing with him.

“What the f-“

He quickly scrolled through the email, but there was no mistaking it. His move had been finalised. The company had approved it. He was really moving in with aespa.

For a long moment, Y/n just stared at his phone, his mind racing with a mix of shock, disbelief, and a bit of panic.

How did this even happen? Was it Winter’s persistence? Or maybe the CEO just had a weird sense of humour?

Whatever the reason, there was no going back now.

-

Later that day, Y/n found himself standing outside the aespa dorm with a few suitcases and boxes of his belongings. He had no idea how to feel about this new arrangement—part excitement, part dread—but before he could dwell on it, the dorm door flew open, and he was greeted by the beaming faces of the girls.

"Oppa!" Ningning called out, bounding over to him with enthusiasm. "You’re finally here! Welcome home!"

"It’s about time," Winter added with a grin, already grabbing one of his suitcases and dragging it inside as if it weighed nothing. "I told you it would happen."

"Yeah, yeah," Y/n muttered, still in disbelief. "I didn’t think they’d actually approve it, though."

"Well, we’re glad they did," Giselle said, flashing him a bright smile as she took one of the boxes from his hands. "Now we don’t have to call you at all hours of the night to come over."

"You guys really think this is going to make my life easier, huh?" Y/n said, shaking his head as he stepped into the dorm.

"Oh, definitely not," Karina’s voice chimed in from behind him. She was leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed, a small smirk playing on her lips. "It’ll probably be way harder for you now.”

Y/n let out a groan as he set down his remaining box. "Jeez, thanks for the vote of confidence, Jimin."

Karina just shrugged, her smirk widening. "Just being honest."

With the girls’ help, it didn’t take long to get Y/n’s things inside. They bustled around him, arranging his boxes in the small guest room he’d be using. Ningning hummed a little tune as she helped unpack, while Winter darted in and out of the room, offering unsolicited advice about where things should go. Giselle, on the other hand, took the opportunity to remind her manager of the bet.

"Hey loser, remember the bet?" she asked, eyeing one of the boxes suspiciously.

"Ah shit, right. There's that." Y/n groaned, completely forgot about the deal.

"Well, I'll be looking forward to your meal, Chef." Giselle quipped. "We can’t have you slacking off just because you live here."

"It’s not slacking off," Y/n protested. "And it's gonna be a month anyway*"

"Eh…nah" Winter teased, plopping down on the bed and giving him a mock-serious look. "We did say a month, but it might go on for…."

"For?"

"…ever." Winter pouted, making the manager disgusted at his childhood friend's antics.

Y/n rolled his eyes, but deep down, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of comfort from their playful teasing. Despite the chaos and unpredictability of his new living arrangement, it wasn’t as awkward or uncomfortable as he’d feared.

In fact, it almost felt... natural.

As they finished unpacking, Y/n couldn’t help but notice Karina hanging back, watching the others with a thoughtful expression on her face. Their interactions had been better lately—less tense, more relaxed—but there was still something unsaid between them. It lingered, unspoken, beneath the surface.

Before he could think too much about it, Karina walked over and handed him a small bag. "Here," she said, her tone neutral but with a hint of something else. “I picked up some snacks earlier. Figured you might need a break after all this."

Y/n blinked, momentarily taken aback by the gesture. It wasn’t much, but it felt like an olive branch of sorts—an attempt to ease the tension between them. He offered her a small smile. "Thanks, Jimin."

She nodded, her usual confident demeanour softening just a little. "Don’t mention it."

The room was quiet for a brief moment, the weight of their previous awkwardness still lingering, but for the first time in a while, it didn’t feel so heavy. Maybe, just maybe, things were starting to shift between them.

Tl:dr - Y/n has been added to the dorm.

-

Y/n lay in bed, still processing the day’s events, staring up at the ceiling of his new room. Living with aespa, being a part of their daily routine, their ups and downs—it all felt surreal. He was still getting used to the idea of sharing a space with them, knowing that tomorrow morning, instead of showing up at their dorm with coffee or breakfast in hand, he’d be here—part of the group in a way that felt strange yet... right.

He was about to drift off into sleep when he heard the door creak open. Before he could fully register what was happening, Winter barged into the room, casually plopping herself down on the edge of his bed as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

“Yah, Y/n,” she said with a grin, pulling her knees up and making herself comfortable. “You thought you were safe in here?”

Y/n blinked, too tired and too caught off-guard to respond right away. “I... what? Minjeong, what the f-”

“Tomorrow. Breakfast. You better be ready to cook it,” Winter demanded, poking him on the forehead. “We’re not going to let you slack off just because you moved in with us. Actually, now that you’re here, we expect better ramen.”

Y/n groaned, rubbing his face. “I knew this was going to happen...”

“Of course it was going to happen,” she said with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “And trust me, we’re not going easy on you. Especially Karina. She’s still skeptical about your skills.”

“Karina? Skeptical? You’re the one who made me cook at midnight last time. And also every single time since we auditioned together.”

Winter laughed, leaning back on her elbows. “Yeah, but she’s the one who’s going to make sure it’s perfect.”

“Great,” Y/n muttered, half-joking. “First day in and I’m already a chef instead of a manager.”

Winter chuckled before giving him a more serious look. “But, hey... welcome to the dorm, Y/n. We’re glad you’re here.”

Y/n felt his heart warm a little at that. Despite all the teasing and chaos, there was a genuine sense of family that had been building between them. And also Winter look even more dazzling under the moonlight.

“Thanks, Jeong.”

She grinned, getting up to leave but pausing at the door. “Oh, and one more thing... you should check your face in the mirror before you go to bed. You might find something interesting.”

Y/n frowned, confused. “What are you talking about?”

Winter just giggled and slipped out the door, leaving him baffled. He groaned again, pushing himself out of bed to check the bathroom mirror. As he flipped the light on, his eyes widened.

Drawn across his cheeks and forehead in colorful marker were doodles—smiley faces, stars, and a few other unidentifiable squiggles. His eyebrows had been drawn into exaggerated arches, and there was a tiny mustache inked above his upper lip.

2-0 towards Aespa girls. And Y/n definitely knew it was Winter's idea.

"KIM MINJEONG!!!"

[tennessoui]

it’s like baby gorl there’s no way I, the author who wrote the fic you’re commenting on and who is the intended audience for this comment, am gonna agree with you 😿🙏 some things can just stay on your chest 🙏

[therealdistortion]

I just realized that we don’t actually know how the OIAR staff is being recorded. I assume that FR3-D1 is the thing doing it but even then we don’t know how. We know they’re being recorded through multiple sources (I. E. The computers, phones, etc.) because there is a difference sound effect depending on the device in the beginning of each recording. But it’s not like the tape recorders that just turn on and record, we don’t know how they’re actually doing the recording itself.

[smilesrobotlover]

Replaying phantom hourglass and I really don’t think it’s fair to characterize Linebeck as a coward. Like yeah he doesn’t want to go into the dungeons or the temple of the ocean king, but the temple of the ocean king sucks the life out of you, you see skeletons and spirits of people who died in there. He actually did go in there by himself and got trapped. Another thing to keep in mind is that he’s a normal person, he doesn’t fight and he prefers the laid back lifestyle. Now he does want treasure and that gets him motivated, but that treasure is also in a life threatening ghost ship that takes victims here and there. It makes sense that he’s nervous about that.

Another thing to keep in mind is that when you do fight monsters and bosses in the sea, he’s not scared at all. He tells you that there’s an enemy, he cheers you on, and even when you die he just kinda accepts his fate. He’s a competent and capable man on the sea, and you know that he knows what he’s doing. Also, as soon as you see the ghost ship after you get the second sea chart, he tells you to go straight ahead, to chase it down. Again, he’s motivated by Treasure, but he doesn’t hesitate to chase after the ghost ship.

Maybe as an adult he should go and help Link who is just a kid, but keep in mind that this is a video game and you don’t want your hand to be held the entire time playing. His role only seems to be sailing you around anyways, not traveling by your side like Ciela (I’d imagine it’d be different for a full grown man to be following you around, cuz most Zelda companions hide away while you’re playing)

Anyways, Linebeck is cowardly at times, but I wouldn’t characterize him as a coward. A greedy pathetic scoundrel, yeah, but not really a coward.

[dimsilver]

do y’all ever think about how badly hozier needs to read till we have faces

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

You’d think that with all this bike riding and lifting children off the floor that I’d be even more hungry, but no; I have the appetite of a little tiny bird???? The fuck

I don’t like it

[jackett-slut]

ok sorry if this sounds fucking insane. i need to write something out.

[peachinspiration]

dunmeshi mithruncore (every day I can’t get up to make myself eat at all or get up to use the bathroom or fall asleep or actually do more to help myself unless im told to or someone physically Makes me do it or I finally manage to do so for the first time very very late in the day cuz I forced myself to out of fear)