#and disconnected too 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

[tmpttion]

i feel like a truck ran over me

[luveline]

I love bombshell!reader omg they’re so cutie. Im in an angst mood so imagine reader finally being hit emotionally hard on a case and asking spencer to stay with her in the hotel?? The rest of the team tries so hard to help but only Spencer can help her omg 🥹

thank you for your request ♡ fem!reader

Morgan has an arm around you. It's the first thing Spencer notices, and he thinks, Thank fuck. Thank fuck someone's holding you together. And then he thinks, Maybe I should be that someone. 

He's never seen you shaking that hard. Your usual easy air, not unlike Penelope's, has shrunk to nought. There's no flirty smile sent his way as he approaches, no dramatic throw of Moran's arm. I'd never cheat on my baby, you'd say, though you and Spencer aren't really dating. 

"You okay?" he asks. 

Spencer feels powerless in the face of your despair. You're obviously not fine. Kids always hit you the worst, and so many? Your reaction is warranted if uncharacteristic. 

You don't answer him. Morgan squeezes your arm and stands with a kiss to the top of your head. "I'll leave you in the best hands," he says in way of farewell. 

Spencer sits in the space Morgan vacates, hand behind your shoulder, his fingers curling between your side and your upper arm. You've had blood wiped out of your eyes haphazard, crusting of crimson on your lashes like a morbid mascara. He feels like crying for you. 

"Hey," he says, giving your back a slow, heavy handed rub, "Sorry I wasn't here." 

"That's okay." Your voice is all shudders like a trapped moth. "I'm okay." 

He steers your face to his with a cautious hand to look at you properly. With want of a better method, he takes your untouched water bottle and holds it to his sleeve, pulling it over his fingers while the fabric is still saturated to wipe away the missed blood.

You follow his touch, eyes closing with a quick, pained sigh. Like he's pricked you with a knifepoint.

"I know you think you have to be perfect," Spencer says, sleeve turning a dirty orange, "but this is enough to affect anybody." 

"I am perfect," you say quietly. It falls flat. 

Spencer cups both sides of your face. Your eyes flutter open at the feeling. "You're perfect. And a perfect person would handle this badly." 

His hands look rigid compared to the soft slopes of your cheeks, but they're gentle. 

Tears like silver line your eyes. You wear grief like everything else until suddenly you don't, a crack, a sniffle and you're turning your face into one of his hands desperately. Spencer knows what you need before you're moving, pulling you into his chest with a hand braced behind your neck. 

"It's okay," he says, hoping that if he says it with enough conviction it'll be true. "It's not your fault. There was nothing else we could do."

You shake your head from side to side against his shoulder. "I should've been quicker. I knew what was going to happen, I knew. And I couldn't do anything about it, I couldn't–" Your sob is pulled from you on a hook, hard and sudden enough to end in a wheeze.

Spencer doesn't know what else to do but hug you and hope it calms you down. He's not used to being the most composed of the two of you, a disconnect between the salacious woman who hounds him relentlessly and the one who's falling apart in the circle of his arms. 

You shake. Spencer rubs your back, shielding you from the cold weather until Hotch shouts for the BAU to fall in and get ready to leave. 

"Will you stay with me?" you ask, pulling away from his chest reluctantly. "I don't want to be alone. The hotel's too…" 

Spencer frowns, eyes closed, his face crushed to the side of your head. "Of course I will." 

He knows what you were going to say. It's too quiet after all of tonight's noise. And alone, blaming yourself, he knows you'll scare yourself. Tear yourself to pieces. So Spencer sticks to you like glue from the SUV to the hotel to the jet the next morning. He'd do anything you asked him to do no matter how hard. 

When you're ready, you'll fall back into your flirtatious routines. For now, Spencer takes your twitching hands under the table and holds them.

[hysteria-things]

ive never requested anything ever so..

but ive read everything you've wrote and oml your writing is heaven sent 🙏

is there any possible way you could do something kinda like the trope u had w the fic zipper u wrote where the reader is nates sister and nate catches chris and reader doing it or almost doing it?

SECRET'S OUT (part one)

read part two here

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: soft dom!chris x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you are the little sister of nate doe, who so happens to be best friends with chris sturniolo; who so happens to be the boy you’ve been hooking up with behind his back for weeks.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, fluff, making out, swearing, p in v, praising, getting caught

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 872

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: thank you anon for the kind words🥹

decided to combine these two requests! hope i did you guys justice :)

i’ve been getting a handful of chris requests which is why i’ve been posting about him more, but matt will make an appearance soon i promise🙏

you tap the contact on your phone, acting like you’re calling your crush for the first time. you bite your lip and smile while bringing it up to your ear.

the person on the other line picks up after two rings. “hello?”

“hey!” you say with excitement.

chris chuckles through the phone. you almost melt at the sound. “hi, baby.”

the heart in your chest flutters. everybody on the planet knows chris cannot stand that nickname, but he always makes you an exception.

you walk over to the bed and lay on your side, your unoccupied hand rests on your cheek.

“soooo…” you drag out. “nate’s out right now…”

“uh huh.” chris says with amusement, knowing exactly what you want.

you clear your throat and get straight to the point. “come over, pretty boy.”

chris’s dick twitches in his pants. “give me twenty minutes.”

“make it ten,” you say before disconnecting the call.

what do you know? chris comes marching into your room about ten minutes later. the door must’ve been unlocked.

he smiles down at you — since you’re so much shorter. you stand on your tippy toes to give him a peck on the lips.

a peck turns into two pecks. then three. then to his tongue exploring your mouth.

the smacking of your guys’ lips echoes through the room as chris backs you up to your bed. when the back of your knees hit the frame, you fall backward onto the mattress. the kiss is still intact. nothing could be able to stop you now.

“y/n? are you home?” nate’s voice shouts from down the hall.

okay, maybe one thing can stop you.

chris immediately pulls away to scramble to his feet. it’s too late to shove him somewhere since nate’s footsteps eventually reach the door to open it.

chris stands like a statue next to the door. luckily, he’s on the side where the door blocks him from your brother’s view.

“i thought you already left?” you say breathlessly, sitting up to make yourself look less suspicious.

“i did, but i came back to grab something.” he explains, looking around your room. “are you good? do you need anything while i’m out?”

“no, i’m good. thanks though!” you reply enthusiastically.

he gives you a look of disgust before shutting the door and making his way down the hallway. chris sniggers at you.

“shut up,” you mumble as he starts coming over to you to continue what he started.

he starts to kiss your neck and collarbones, each one leaving you with a tickling sensation.

“you’re so gorgeous.” he says between kisses. “the best thing to ever happen to me.”

your cheeks flush a maroon. he gently starts removing your pajama shorts and underwear. his lips still pepper your skin as he takes off his lower attire as well.

he finally pulls away, removing both yours and his shirts. he stares at your naked body in awe. “so fucking gorgeous.”

you moan as he starts to push in slowly, resting his forehead on yours. you’ve been railed by this man more than enough times, but you’ll never fully adjust to his size no matter how hard you try.

he sits there for a few seconds, caressing the outside of your thighs with his thumbs in a soothing manner.

“you okay?” he asks, kissing you again and again.

you nod. he starts to thrust deep and slow, earning a ‘faster’ from your lips when you think he’s going too slow. he interlocks your fingers with his and holds them above your head.

“oh, fuck.” you say in a voice higher than your normal one. “just like that, chris."

his movements are at a decent speed. you spread your legs wider, forcing him to go deeper. he rests his head in the crook of your neck and moans with you.

you pant and whimper at each thrust, loving his warm and safe touch.

it’s not until he hits a certain spot that make your eyes flutter closed, a wide grin of contentment plastering your face.

“does it feel good, baby? hm?” he starts, lifting his head to look at your face of pleasure. “you like it right there, don’t you? ah, you’re so fucking tight.”

you clench around him, making him lose rhythm for only a moment. “chris, i’m cl—”

“i fucking knew it.”

the two of you pause and stare at each other in fear. your face turns pale when all the pleasure is gone in a snap.

you both take turns facing the source and cover yourselves with your comforter.

nate is standing in the doorway with his hand on the knob. you’ve never seen nate mad, and right now he doesn’t look mad, but something feels off.

he needs to let this sit for a moment before he explodes.

chris grabs his undergarments that are on the floor next to him and puts them on quickly.

nate glances at you, who’s too frozen in fear to do anything. he then looks at chris and exhales loudly.

“for future reference, don’t leave your fucking shoes by the front door.” his voice is in a low but dark tone. “now get out before i beat the shit out of you.”

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom

[breekento]

hello! I love your fics on Higuruma on AO3! wanted to ask if you take any requests for Prisoner!Higuruma who survives culling games and turns himself in jail, but reader regularly visits him and waits for his release ?🥹 A bit of angst but fluff at the end please 💞

thank you for being my first fic request! I probably won’t write these as long as my fics on AO3 because it would take me months lol! But these are fun writing practices for me!

(wc: 1.6k, no smut, just pain and fluff)

“How are you sleeping, doll? Are you getting everything you need?” His voice crackles through the phone.

Your fingers tremble, squeezing the phone so tightly you were surprised it didn’t crumble in your grasp. “I guess so,” you reply in a small voice.

“I don’t like the sound of that, baby.”

You knew better than to lie, he was intelligent and ever observant of every hitch or quirk in your voice. “I just miss you, Hiro,” you say shakily.

He sighs deeply on the other line. “I miss you, too, doll. More than you can ever know. You’re still coming to see me tomorrow, right? I need to see that beautiful face.”

“Of, course.” How could you forget? It has become your weekly routine. Every week, the night before your visits with Hiromi, tossing hangers draped in clothes over your head in search of the perfect outfit. Open toed, too short, mesh, crop top. At some point you would need to go shopping for appropriate clothes to visit your boyfriend in prison but for whatever reason, it felt as if you were accepting defeat.

You knew very little of Hiromi’s mysterious work-life and he liked to keep it that way. The world of sorcery was foreign to you and your knowledge was shallow. Hence, the ringing in your ears, the numb feeling on your fingertips as your brain struggled to connect the dots on that day.

“I just don’t understand why you’re doing this to me, Hiro,” your voice was raspy, tears flowing down your face as you followed him out of the door.

“I can’t tell you,” he says, cold and distant as if he were desperately trying to disconnect from the harsh world around him.

“Look,” his voice is softer. His hands cup your face, lip distorted and eyebrows twisted upward in agony. “I’ve done bad, bad things. I can’t live with myself like this. You don’t want me here.”

“B-but how do you know? You don’t know,” you fumble over your words.

“I’ll be gone for a while, doll,” his forehead pressed against yours. At that moment, it felt doable. How long? Why? What have you done? You never asked, worried that you wouldn’t accept the answer.

Years had passed and it was doable. Not short of late nights, curled under the covers, fingers searching for the smell of his cologne and hair gel. Elbow stretched as far as you could reach, hand fumbling for the zipper on the back of your dress. Shit, if Hiromi was just here. Small tasks felt big.

Sitting behind your desk, mindlessly searching through your emails as a thinly faced coworker pops her head over the cubicle. “Are you going to the office pot-luck tonight?” She beams.

“Oh,” you jump in your seat. “I have plans.”

She frowns, resting her head on the half-wall. “You never do anything.”

You shrug, looking toward your computer screen. Explaining that you’re visiting your prison boyfriend was not something you cared to delve into with a superficial level of coworker.

The clock strikes 5:00pm and you are your own version of Cinderella, tossing your purse over your shoulder and striding towards the door. Only in this story, you weren’t running away from the probability of your carriage turning into a pumpkin. You were running toward your murderer of a boyfriend, clinging to that 30 minutes of quality time.

It couldn’t have been Hiromi. Not your Hiromi. The Hiromi who stayed awake late at night, holding your body close as it ached on your monthly. The Hiromi with tender fingers that grazed your skin covered in bubbles as you leaned against his skin as warm water poured over the two of you. The Hiromi who replaced the fresh flowers on your dining table every week, knowing you loved the scent. He couldn’t have been a killer. Surely it was for a reason. Was there such a reason?

“I’m here for Hiromi Higuruma,” you say through the window.

The guard’s eyes flicker to yours. Nodding before lifting the phone to her ear. Taking your cue, you sit in the waiting chair. Your legs bounce in anxiety, it never got easier.

The door swings open, a large guard standing in the doorway. Gathering your things, you walk toward the room. The room you knew too well. The tension in the air dissipates as the tall, dark-haired man stands before you. Even in this state, he was strikingly handsome. His hair, slicked back with strands falling forward onto his brow. His lips curl into a smile, eyes twinkling at the sight of you. His orange jump-suit hangs off of his body, wrists clasped together by handcuffs.

“There she is. My beautiful girl,” he purrs as you join him at the large table. It was just the two of you, and the guards that lined the perimeter. How romantic.

In his usual gentleman fashion, he waits for you to find your seat before sitting down himself. You adjust in your seat, face heating up as you scan his face.

“I missed you,” you say bashfully under his intense gaze.

“God. You get more beautiful every time I see you.”

You lean against the table, propping your head on your hands, “When are you ever going to get out of this place?”

“Funny you should say that,” he says with a grin. Your eyes widen, lifting yourself off of the table. “I have a date.”

Your mouth dries. “A-a date?”

“Doll, I’ve been here for 6 years. In a few months, they’re letting me out early for good behavior. Well, parole,” he says with a grin.

You stand from your seat, jaw slack and eyes rapid fire scanning his expression for any sign of a joke. “Y-you’re coming home?”

His eyes soften, looking up at you with those gorgeous sleepy eyes. “I’m going home, baby.”

Every muscle in your body wanted to lunge forward, wrapping your arms around his neck and tackling him to the ground. You haven’t even touched the man in years. You opt for covering your mouth with your hand.

“Keep holding on for just a few more months, doll. I’ll be home before you know it,” his eyes are kind.

“15 minutes,” the voice from the guard echoes throughout the empty room.

“My life here is boring. Tell me about yours. How’s work? How’s the house?”

He had truly set you up for success. You stayed in his home, completely paid for and taken care of by him. You didn’t have to work but you feared insanity spending your days alone in his large house. Brushing your teeth and watching his, dry and unused black toothbrush beside yours. His loafers that sit in the doorway, unworn and clean.

“Work is boring. They had a potluck tonight. My boss somehow thinks I’m the biggest idiot in the world while also piling more on my workload,” you say. It felt silly to complain about your mundane work tasks while he lived here. But he hung on your every word, soaking in the way your lips curled and eyes creased.

“Oh and I spent hours getting rid of weeds last weekend. The second you’re out of this place, that’s your job,” you say with narrow eyes.

He chuckles, leaning forward in his seat, “It will be my pleasure, baby.”

“It’s time,” the guard says. Each week, shattering your heart little by little. You stand, unable to stop the tears welling in your eyes.

“Don’t cry, darling. Not much longer. Just stay strong for a little longer,” his voice pleads.

You nod, using balled up fists to wipe your face. You watch him stand, towering over you as the guards guide him back to the mysterious place he now lived. He turns his face to catch your eyes, face sad as he watches the human form of his heart shatter before his eyes.

The door shuts and once again you are left alone. Only a few more months. Those words propelled you, every action you performed had a meaning suddenly. When you couldn’t reach something on the top shelf, when you couldn’t lift the garbage bag over your head, when you ran out of toilet paper you thought soon he will be here.

And soon came quick enough. You stood in front of your full length mirror, adjusting your sundress that fell over your curves. Your hair was fluffy and soft, draped over your shoulders. He knew what you looked like but you needed his first sight of you to be special, breathtaking.

With shaky hands and clammy feet, you stand outside the prison. If you weren’t leaning your body weight against the car door, you probably would have fallen over. You tap your foot anxiously, any minute now.

The door creaks open, a tall, lanky man dressed in black jeans and soft white shirt, the outfit he had left on that day. Before you could tell your feet to quit, you were running, no, sprinting towards the man.

He matches your speed, arms wrapping around your body as he lifts you from the ground. You bury your face in his neck, giggling through tears that coat his white t-shirt. His muffled laughs find your ears as he spins you, holding your body tightly. It had been years since you felt his hands on your back, his breath in your ear.

“I love you, I love you,” he chants against your face. He set you down, pressing both of his hands on each side of your face. “Let me get a good up-close look at my beautiful girl.”

Your cheeks blushed red under his gaze, “Let’s go home.”

[chocostrwberry]

im curious of what gabriel/hawkmoth would look like in this au, but with your art style, im sure that it would look gorgeous!!! i love your art!! (⁠人⁠*⁠´⁠∀⁠｀⁠)⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

TY!! I try my hardest!! 🥹🩷🙏🫶

I don’t have a final design for Hawkmoth yet, only concepts!!

Gabriel is the character you never see the face of, and has more of a monochrome palette with a hint of purple, but overall he looks very designer-ish!

I decided to make Gabriel faceless because I think it would really show Adrien’s disconnected relationship with his father!

Adrien sees Gabriel as an authority figure that has complete control over his life but no presence in it. It also leaves room for the nature of Gabriel’s intentions towards Adrien for interpretation!!

Does he talk to Adrien with an irritated face, or concerned but too ill-informed to do anything about it? When Adrien was talking about school to him, did he look surprised or bored?? We’ll never know!!

And when do we see the big bad villain who has made everyone in the show’s life miserable? When we finally see the face behind the conflict?

When he’s begging Gimmi to give him his wife back.

It would so cool for it to be the first time we see Gabriel’s face is when he’s vulnerable, desperate, and exhausted. It would humanize him, but raise the question; was everything he did for the love of his family, or the actions of a man driven to insanity by grief?

[saintgoths]

since u do requests heheh i was wondering if you could do something like this: https://vm.tiktok.com/ZM66LSbW9/ bc omg i'm obsessed lmao and maybe with smut in the end? 🥹 thanks! 🤍

☾༺♰༻☽ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀᴄᴋꜱᴇᴀᴛ☾༺♰༻☽

mdni - intense dirty talking, grinding, possessive ghost, mutual masturbation, m/f sex-full nelson position and heavy breeding kink

simon riley.

1634 words.

“Don’t worry darling, you’re the prettiest woman in the room,” Ghost muttered, his masked mouth pressed against your ear, causing you to shudder in response to his pant. With a wide smile that sneaked upon your face, you had pressed your back against his chest, gently moving in rhythm with the slow music that sang through the large speakers.

The both of you had decided to go somewhere you barely go, well, together, Simon usually finds himself in a pub due to his co-workers, and you would rather go to the club. Though aside from the loudness that had filled the room, there was a subtle ambience that had moved the two of you.

“I know that,” you smiled. “I’m normally the prettiest woman in the room.”

“Cocky,” he replied swiftly.

“And you’ve never been…?” You raised your eyebrow, with a shorter smile that remained on your face, teasing Ghost of his previous arrogant behaviours, you could feel the covered bulge of his press against your back, aware that the cool and soft lewd tension that had been shared between the both of you had slowly peaked.

“T’s different,” he shrugged, his masked mouth moving to the bareness of your neck, “Keep grinding on me like that I’ll end up fucking you in front of everyone.”

Surprised, you had raised the both of your eyebrows, slightly excited---you had tucked your bottom lip behind your teeth. “Ah?” You breathed out. “The possessive Simon Ghost Riley allowing over people see the way he fucks me?”

“The sound of that vexes me,” he grunted. “I won’t be able to hold myself back if you continue to speak to me like that.”

“Well, you’ll have to be a good boy,” you shrugged. “You want all the men here to see my naked body, don’t you?”

With a click of his tongue, Simon shook his head. “Now, when you word it like that, luvie, my idea to fuck you in front of everyone is ruined,” he gently whined, which had caused you to release a breathy laugh.

“Now that the mood is ruined, I need to go to the toilet,” you smiled before disconnecting yourself away from his grasp, you could feel Ghost lightly slap your ass causing you to mildly smirk before you pathed your way to the pub’s toilet, leaving Ghost to return to his seat and silently wait for your arrival.

“Aren’t you a tall drink of water,” a voice smiled, cutting Ghost from his train of thoughts. His brown eyes landing on a slim blonde who had her hair tied up into a tight pony tail, she had worn a blue dress that had tightly wrapped around her figure, and Ghost couldn’t miss the strong fake-tan that had caked her skin.

While he had adjusted his mask, Ghost sharply examined her once more. “What are you doing?” He huffed.

“What?” The lady repeated, confused by his stoic essence.

“I have a girlfriend, love,” Ghost shared.

“You’re not married?” The girl pointed.

“One day I’ll marry her,” Ghost said.

Satisfied by the twisted look she had on her face; Ghost watched the way she placed her hands on her hips. “Well, I have a partner too,” she shrugged.

“Really?” Ghost grunted. “Where’s your husband out there?”

With a quick look, the girl bounced her shoulders. “Not here, but gon’ on one of his business trips. Where’s your one day I’ll marry her-girlfriend?”

Humoured by the woman, Ghost shortly turned to where you had stood. “My one day I’ll marry her-girlfriend is standing right over there, staring at ya.”

“She don’t seem much,” the girl shrugged. “I’ll handle her.”

“I don’t fight over men,” you smiled while nearing towards Ghost. “But if Ghost wants you, he’s all yours,” you winked, picking up your unfinished glass, you briskly saw the insecure look that shadowed over the woman’s eyes the second she saw Ghost’s unsatisfied expression.

“Nah, I don’t want er,” Ghost shrugged, his final statement enough to have the woman leave, and satisfied you had moved closer to your boyfriend.

Eyebrows furrowed you had gently cupped his face. “You should’ve ignored her.”

“I was bored, and I like seeing you jealous,” Ghost replied. “It was quite upsetting hearing that you would easily give me up and not fight over me.”

With a smirk you arched your eyebrow in response. “I don’t fight over men,” you re-stated. “Men fight over me, and the fights go and end pretty nasty.”

“Well, I’ll have to keep that in mind in the future,” Ghost said. “With a face like yours I know there’ll be dozens of men I’ll have to neb.”

Impressed you gently whistled. “Now, the idea of you fighting over and for me, makes me really horny…the concept of me bouncing on your cock in front of everyone now seems very exciting.”

“No,” Ghost shook his head, lifting his tall figure onto his feet. “That we do in the car.”

“Car sex,” you smiled. “I like the sound of that,” you agreed slipping your hand into his, his strong hold dragging you through and out of the pub. The erotic lust building higher between your legs within each step closer towards the vehicle the both of you had made, and once you had appeared near the skin of his car, he had pressed you against the vehicle.

He had quickly pulled down his mask, kissing your neck and groping your curves, hungrily, you had gasped, the swift touch of his fingers brushing past your clit the moment his hand found way down your pants. “Simon,” you moaned, “We have to do it in the car,” you whimpered, gently shaking at the mere touch of his digits.

“I can’t help it,” he moaned. “The idea of you cumming around my cock, drives me insane,” he whispered. “My cum filling you up and me licking it out of your sweet pussy, my mind is going nuts.”

After the struggle of opening the car, Ghost had eventually pushed you into the back seat, his lust eager and beastly as he trailed after you---closing the door beside him, once he had been able to pull you close to his physique, Ghost had melded his lips around yours, his mouth fierce and rough, swelling the sweet mouth that had been tucked into his.

You had sharply moaned, aided on pulling down your clothing---with the help of the large hands of Ghost; and the second your panties had been pulled off, his cold digits found way to circle around your nub while your hand had carelessly slipped down his trousers, your hand tightly wrapped around his large cock that had his pre-cum seep through the opening of his shaft.

“You are my weakness,” he whispered, the throbbing motion of his dick perfectly fucking through your hand. “So pretty, just for me,” he moaned, gently rocking his hips to the rhythm of your hand. “I need to fuck you, please, baby.”

Obedient, you had pulled yourself onto his lap, your core wet and used as a lubricant as you had rubbed it against the skin of his cock while the size of his hands travelled up your shirt, unclasping your bra and perfectly cupping your breasts, a deep sigh humming from the back of his throat the moment your wet warmness welcomed itself around his width.

You could feel by the way his lower body shivered to your dampness that he wouldn’t be able to last long the way he usually does, his grip had been protective, wrapping his palms around the back of your knees before he slowly began to thrust his hips upwards, “Ah,” he desperately moaned, “Sit there like a good girl, and take me,” he gritted while his length slipped and slugged inside of you, the wet erotic noises filling and heating the vehicle.

As you had squirmed in response to his roughness you had felt your walls close and pulse around him, over-stimulated by his hot and tough thrusts and his nurture around your nipples, you could feel the commodities in your body flounder and reticently twist. “Yes, I’m a good girl,” you hummed. “Your good girl.”

“Let me fill you up with my cum, huh?” He mumbled, “Have you forever as mine, have my child yeah?”

“Yeah!” You agreed fiercely. “I want it!” You whined while finding way to your hood, your fingers circling your pearl as the excitement resumed to peak and crest inside of your body.

“Say it,” Ghost compelled. “Say you want my child.”

Eyes rolled back into your head, the taste of Ghost’s cock licking and brushing your walls had sent you over to the edge. His acute touch coercing you into saying whatever he had wanted. “I want it,” you had desperately nodded. “I want your child, I want it to be mine,” you hysterically listed, your fierce sentences pushing Ghost into frenzied orgasm, cumming inside of you, his dick twitching and edging inside of your hearth---while his juices trickled and spread down your body, you had slowly bounced on his cock, over-stimulated and intoxicated by his size pressing inside of you.

Your hip rolls weak and heavy as you could feel your orgasm round up while the tip of his digits twirled and pinched your nipples, your drool sleeked against your lips which had then slipped down your chin as your spasm and peak wrapped and enclosed all over his cock.

As you had lifted yourself off his member and allowed your body to rest against his physique, you had deeply breathed in, gently tickled by the light touch his lip had made against your ear. “Round two at home?” He questioned and randomly energised, you had slipped yourself off his lap, an encouraging look plastered on your face.

“You bet.”

POSITION REFERENCE ONE

POSITION REFERENCE TWO

[jennyfk13]

TNMN OC DOODLE & HCS ‼️

I haven’t posted properly in SOOOO LONG and i lowk feel a lil disconnected from the fandom lmao 😭 so i drew my tnmn oc, Alice! And i also wrote some hcs (hope you guys love her as much as i do🥹)

HCS:

- Her and Margarette live together, they have a childhood friends kind of relationship, they were inseparable back then, they’re still close however! They go to each other for the other’s opinions, like Alice tries on some clothes that Margarette made, and Margarette listens to Alice playing piano and gives her opinions, AND SO FORTH!!!

- She has a great singing voice, she often pairs a nice piano piece with some lyrics, although she’s too shy to sing publicly, only a few neighbors have been able to hear it (those she’s closest with‼️)

- She’s a raging (but unaware) bisexual, she doesn’t even realise it, during 1955 it was most likely normalised being homophobic but she’d see a woman and lowk desire making out with her (same same)

- Her fingers are sore 24/7, from playing piano so much.. Well, she does it for a living, and some things come with downsides.

(I’m still coming down from artblock so sorry if it looks a little off 😭)

BUTTTT SHOULD I MAKE A RP BLOG FOR HERRR??

[accio-victuuri]

(zing) a famous make up artist talked about wyb in this interview. so he basically said that bobo is beautiful, and that he looks his best when he is on day day up since that’s the time that he has less make up on. he said that when he first saw wyb, he didn’t understand what makes him good looking. but when he saw him (wyb) take off all his make up, he understood. he said wyb is real and so handsome!

i know some of you here have seen wyb in person and i’ve always been so curious about how different he is from the screen to irl. on btf + ono, the staff had to make him less handsome lol. give him flaws. i am a fan of his eyeshadow-era and all the idol make up but i have to agree that bare faced yibo is something else too.

which reminds me of when xz said he prefers wyb with light to no makeup at all 🥹🥹🥹

this was such a sweet moment, and i’m cackling at how wyb was probably embarrassed ( but happy on the inside lol ) ; the way he was speaking about “idol wyb and actor xz” hahahahahahaha!

xz saying stuff like “i like the natural-looking you” / “the way you are like this (light makeup) is pretty nice” and wyb’s face was all “go on clown, tell me more…” there seems to be a disconnect in this conversation. the way i see it, wyb was half flattered and the other is defending the way he prefers make up and how it’s necessary as an idol. xz on the other hand was truly complimenting wyb.

this is truly in my top 10 favorites for unreleased bts.

and the best part? xiao zhan’s freakin face 😂😂😂he’s like — how the hell did he interpret it like that??? i was literally saying how much i adore him??? that he is perfect just the way he is???

[dabisbratz]

boxer Toji hcs? 🥹

whaaokayokayyeayeayea!!!

he actually got his scar from a dirty fight. first he’s stepping into the ring, riled up and bouncing on his toes, next thing he knows a brass knuckle is flying into his face, splitting his lip right open! he’s lucky it was just that, though. he even denies the default win, finds it more thrilling to beat the guy to a pulp and actually win on his own terms. there’s a viral clip of him smiling with blood running down his face, probably what made him so popular in the first place.

he prefers practicing on his own, he has a small gym in his basement that he basically abuses, it’s hard to see him without hand wraps around his knuckles.

that being said, his big hands are rough. not just cause of his constant manhandling, the skin there is pretty rough because of so many injuries! He’s a very touchy guy, used to using his hands (obviously), so when he’s with his boyfriend his hands are never to himself. if he’s walking by he’s sliding his hand across the small of your back, if he’s off to leave he’s caressing your cheeks with the rough pad of his thumb n telling you to lock the door behind him. if you’re in his way he’s grabbing you by the waist or shoulders and moving you to the side. he knows he can just ask you to move but that’s no fun

do not go to his matches. don’t do it!!! he’s usually a very collected man, always able to keep his composure and stick to the task at hand. but if you’re in the crowd, even if he can’t see you, he’s more jittery than usual. and also such a show off, his performance magically becomes more flashy if you’re there to watch. also the adrenaline gives him a boner every time. do with that information what you will!

he has a raging size kink. it’s so bad. doesn’t have to be a height difference. could be hand sizes, dick sizes, thigh sizes. anything. as long as his shirts have at least an inch or two on you, he’s sold. all rationality leaves his brain when you’re wearing his clothes, just straight up overrun with the desire to pound you full of cum.

spanking is a death wish. he knows his strength, knows how to use it, and especially knows how to shut you up. don’t even think for a second you’ll be able to walk or sit down for the next few days. luckily for you, though, he’ll be there to dote on you!

his favorite positions are anything that displays his strength! full nelsons, mating presses. against the wall, standing missionary. anything that has him lifting you up n using you like a fleshlight. he also loves play fighting! just don’t get him too excited or he’ll end up pinning you down for longer than two seconds. his favorite is when he has you propped face down ass up, thrusting into you from behind with one foot using your head to keep him propped up. he likes seeing you helpless!

his dick is just as big n thick as he is, the head is pinkish-brown (like his nipples), with a vein that disappears into his base and streams along his shaft. despite his straight hair, his pubes are kinda wavy! smells warm too, you could probably fall asleep warming his dick (he would slap you awake with it though) ):<

he usually gets home pretty late. he meal preps but sneaks in homemade stuff if you make it. might sound a little disconnected from each other, but if he comes home late to find you’ve made something for him he’s marching straight into the bedroom spreading your legs as thanks, making you suck on his thick fingers even if you’re still groggy.

does that thing where he crosses his arms, biceps bulging over his closed fists, and chest expanded while he looks down at his opponent or you from the bridge of his nose. photos of this exact pose has been used for several article covers n will continue to be used until the end of time.

[hey-august]

omg #5 for a blue bottle with quotes #1 “Give me that.” and #6“I like this.”? and super congrats on 250!! Your writing is wonderful <3 <3

Thaaaank you so much, anon!! I appreciate this so much! 🩷 I'm glad bottle was the first one I got to write - it was the first one I came up with when creating the prompt list. 🥹🥹

Prompts: Bottle (blue), "Give me that." "I like this." Teaser: "Messages in a bottle - feelings and thoughts sent into the world by cowards who were too afraid to keep them." Warnings: SFW. Not an established relationship. Some negative feelings of not being enough, stagnant, and not fitting in. Word count: ~1.4k

Check out my 250 Follower Prompt Event and see fulfilled prompts here.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

“Captain, we found another one!”

Buggy’s head whipped around before the rest of his body turned, facing away from the shoreline he had been studying. Cabaji held up a bottle. It was sealed and unlabeled. The blue glass turned translucent in the sunlight and revealed a shadow within.

“Give me that!” Buggy shouted as a hand zoomed over to snatch the bottle. He held it aloft to study the movement inside while questioning Cabaji. It was by luck that one of the crew noticed the odd bobbing in the water not long ago. 

The pirate captain retreated to his quarters, footsteps moving in time with the drumming in his chest. He was certain this was another one. The bottle and the wax coating the top were familiar. Fingers picked at the trails that hardened along the neck of the bottle, a fruitless attempt at assessing how long ago the container was filled, sealed, and tossed. Just like all the others, the material stuck fast. No softness indicating recent activity, nor crumbling from an extended passing of time.

Buggy pulled out a knife from one of his coat’s interior pockets and deftly cut along the mouth of the bottle before sticking the knife into the wax covered cork. He tugged. And tugged again. And once more. Barely any movement. He slapped the heel of the bottle, hoping it would jostle the cork. Nothing. Shit. Gripping the wooden handle tightly, he tried twisting next. And tried. An awful screeching squeak filled the room as the cork whined from the motion. Satisfied with the movement, he pulled again. Nope.

Frustration coursed through his muscles, trembling his hand and shaking the bottle. If he wasn’t so worried about the object inside, Buggy would have welcomed the tinkling of smashed glass long ago. The captain collapsed into the chair behind his desk and eyed the sapphire bottle. He chewed on his lip and sucked his teeth, letting the thoughts in his head run their courses. With a silent nod, he nested the bottle between his knees and gripped the neck in one hand. Disconnecting an arm, that hand gripped the knife handle once more and drew back. After a few tense seconds, the cork popped with a hollow sound. As if his lungs had been corked as well, Buggy released his own breath.

Finally, he was able to tease out the paper inside and unfold it. The papers were never rolled, always folded. It seemed to be easier to stuff them inside the bottles this way. Familiar handwriting filled his vision. Familiar, yet unknown. Buggy didn’t know the author, but had come across enough bottles and letters to create a one-sided connection. Well, sort of one-sided. While the pirate had read seven (soon to be eight) letters, he currently had six bottles in his possession - three brown, one green, and the newest blue bottle. He had used two other bottles to send his own letters out to sea, filled with anonymous responses and shameless hope that they may find their way back to the owner.

Why, though? Why did these writings have such a hold on him? Buggy wasn’t sure. At first he thought they were silly. Of course he expected the first few to be treasure maps, not words from an unknown person. Messages in a bottle - feelings and thoughts sent into the world by cowards who were too afraid to keep them. But in each one, he learned more about the author. About you. He felt special reading your innermost thoughts. The ones that you couldn’t trust to anyone, so you released them to find their own journey or disappear.

You wrote about sunrises and sunsets. How you wished you could live among the colors on the horizon. The ink captured your loneliness and longing in words that matched the ache Buggy held inside. Feelings of not belonging, of not being enough, not doing enough, of fear, and of regret. You wrote about pain. And happiness. Sometimes you drew pictures of seashells you found. Of the seagulls that woke you up each morning. The crabs that you believed bullied you whenever you walked along the shore. So many details, but never enough about who you actually were.

Buggy wanted to know more. He wanted to offer you what you wanted - to live in a world of color. To find a place where you belong. Even though there was a slim chance his own responses would find you, there was a chance. Maybe. Eight of your own letters found their way to him, so perhaps that luck could extend the other way.

Afraid of skimming your letter too fast and speeding through the moment with excitement, Buggy dragged a finger below each word. He paced himself, wanting to savor the warmth of another new connection with you. He also admired each detail, as if it were art. Splotches where the ink flowed too fast, the places where you forgot to dot your i’s, the inconsistent spacing when you wrote too fast or worried about running out of room, the way your a’s always tilted to the side. 

In this letter, he could see your handwriting change along with the intent behind your message. What started with lighthearted musings and observations soon turned emotional. Shakey thoughts about the world beyond the one you knew. Concerns that you were wasting your life just dreaming. Hopes for a sign - something that would pull you out of the pit you felt trapped in.

Despite all that you poured onto the paper, there was still space for your little scribbles. Scattered seagulls looked at Buggy from the margins of the paper, as if waiting for him to do something. Even though he was only seeing them second-hand, the pirate could see the annoyed endearment you held for those noisy shits. But it was the picture you drew towards the bottom of the paper that really caught Buggy’s attention.

“Oh, this works. I like this…” he muttered to himself while leaning in. 

He pulled the paper close to scrutinize the lighthouse you drew. Your house. In a previous letter you mentioned living in a lighthouse, but that was barely enough information to do anything with. There was no way he could go up to each lighthouse he sailed past and successfully ask if someone had been sending messages in a bottle. Well, he tried it once and nearly got knocked out. You must be somewhere in this area, based on where the bottles were picked up. Now he had a visual to reference and a little more hope to hold.

---

Stepping around the crab holes littering the beach, you headed towards the edge of the water for your morning walk. A cool breeze swept past and dragged grains of sand to meet your bare feet. Unlike you, the sun was still waking up. A blanket of creamy orange and fiery red blended into the slate-blue of the retreating night.

Among the caws from the seagulls and the whispers of incoming waves was a soft but high-pitched scrape. The sound of something being dragged along the sand. It wasn’t long before you came across the source - a blue bottle rolling on the shore. You picked it up cautiously, wondering if it was one of your own tossed bottles.

Back at home, you picked off the wax top and untied the soggy red and white striped fabric wrapped around the neck. It took a few tries before you were able to pull out the paper inside. A paper filled with loopy handwriting in blue ink. A letter that felt like it was intended for you. Someone wrote about receiving a message in this very bottle, a message that they read multiple times before finally replying, in hopes the bottle would find it’s way back. The swirls of ink were comforting, building words that unfurled in your chest. Words that made you feel seen and heard, despite the anonymity.

You had started writing to release some of the thoughts that had been plaguing your mind. A part of you hoped they would find someone who felt similarly, but you believed it was more likely that the pieces of you would sink to the ocean floor and cease to exist. And if your bottles were found, you never expected the sentiments would be returned. And yet, fate felt differently.

Hot tears stung your eyes and fell onto the paper before you pushed it away. Tears brought by the comfort of a stranger. Someone who also experienced hardships and struggles, and carried fear. But they also lived. They described a vibrant life, the kind you dreamed of. The kind you’ll keep dreaming of, growing from the seed embedded in this letter and from the care a stranger held for you.

[jung-koook]

this day in 2012 little sky was bored and decided to turn on her laptop and checked some kpop forums (after a few years I realised that these forums were sasaengs forums. this is the only explanation for why they have so much information, especially about a group that hasn't debuted yet.. at that time I think it was quite ~common~ to share these information, but those were different times, now we see how wrong that was.) until she read one about the new group that was about to debut. she was literally mesmerized by everything she was reading and seeing there. while humming 소녀시대 '소녀시대' she decided to research more about this new group and the members, a new group that seemed like it would bring something very interesting and new to the world of kpop. she spent the last few days of 2012 literally doing just that. then she found more things about namjoon, then jin. at this point she was already obsessed. she would come home from school and immediately go to see if they had posted more about them, more videos. then in 2013 almost close to them debuting she found out about the other members and found out about jeongguk. and omg......... there she knew that he had chosen her and she had chosen him. 🥺 lmao let me stop talking about myself like that 🥹

the part below is hard to share and may trigger some people, so please don't read if it will trigger you. (I'm going to talk about depression and not wanting to live anymore) but I want to share a little more of what bangtan did in my life with you guys. maybe I'll delete it later lmao.

2012 was a very hard year for me. at the age of 12 I was already diagnosed with depression. I was very much a person who didn't like life, I didn't like living. in 2012 I was diagnosed with "su* c *dal depression". I didn't even know this term existed, but I was hospitalized in 2012 because my doctors said I needed to have someone watching me for 24 hours. finding out about bangtan was really a lifesaver for me. I really needed this distraction. I really needed something that would make me disconnect a little from what I was going through. a lifesaver, that's what they were for me and my life. bangtan has no idea how much they helped me, how much they saved me, how much they were my friends when I needed it most. I never cared about these holidays at the end of the year but since 2012, holidays at the end of the year have become something so special for me and so emotional too. I will always remember this moment and how grateful I am for it. and no matter how old I am, I will be 60 years old and I will still be grateful for everything bangtan has done in my life. I will always be grateful for finding them when I needed them most and for them existing. the positive impact they had on my life and still has will always shock me. because they are people who don't even know me but they helped me so much, often much more than these people who did. thank you so much for bangtan existing. thank you so much for each member and for everything they did for me without even knowing me, and for being my lifesaver. ♡

[galvanizedfriend]

Fic Update: The Wolf III [21/21]

Summary: Months after their return to New Orleans, Klaus and Caroline try to settle into a semblance of normalcy, while Elijah struggles to forgive his brother's sins. But a mysterious prophecy that foretells the downfall of the Mikaelson family brings them all together in a war that will reopen ancient wounds and see each of the siblings doomed: one by friend, one by foe and one by family.

[It's The Originals Season 3, but Caroline had Klaus' baby, now she's a vampire and they are back in New Orleans after a stint in Mystic Falls. It's mostly about Klaroline, obviously.]

---

S03E21 The Bloody Crown Caroline wakes up from something that doesn't really feel like sleep. It’s as though her brain disconnected and went into a blackout state for a few hours. She doesn't feel well rested, not even close, but there's a soft tingle chasing across her skin that is oddly soothing.

She blinks out the drowsiness and follows the sensation, finds Klaus tracing the arm she has draped across his middle. It's a feathery brush, an absent-minded movement he probably doesn't even notice he's doing, but it still has the power to awaken butterflies in Caroline's stomach. Even after years, she feels it every time he touches her. Fire at the tips of his fingers.

He's facing away from her, staring at the sliver of daylight trickling in through the curtains, his usual dark and devious look replaced by something weary and distant. Caroline watches him for a long time, trying to peer through the mask of impassiveness, past the glacial ice in his eyes. She hates it when he's like this, lost in the corners of his own mind where she can't follow. With Klaus, that always spells trouble. The anger she knows how to deal with. The barks and snarls she can handle. It's the blank stares, the emptiness and the silence that scares her the most.

Read the full chapter here

---

😃 Two updates in less than a week, and TW3 is over. 😃 Who am I, what am I doing with my life? 😃

There are loads of info on the actual story about how this will continue and some other stuff as well. We have reached the 1M words mark and I can't decide if this is impressive or if I have just completely lost control of my life. Either way, thank you so, so much to everyone who had read my long-ass fic and stayed with me through all of this. 💜 It's a mess, but I have loved living in this universe, and I hope some of you have too. 🥰

A special shout-out to my friend @definedareasofuncertainty, who was holding my hand when I posted the very first chapter, almost five years ago, and who is still somehow my friend. 🥹

I hope you guys enjoy it! And as always, your reblogs/comments/kudos mean the world to me, please support your local insane fic writer. 🥹

[the-s1lly-corner]

I’m hoping this is the inbox- pls help I’m used to just reading what’s in the tags on tumblr and never requesting anything 🥹

I hope you’re having an amazing day/night/whatever time of day it is for you-!!! I just found your blog and I am so happy I did!! I’ve been binge reading it but the fact that I found someone who writes for Creepypasta???? I’m??? In luv??? (platonically ofc) may I request some LJ with a fem!reader who has bpd and he’s their fp, carries his little music box everywhere she goes and always “talks” to him in public, not caring about any crazy looks she gets from people?

Also politely asking to be 🩶 anon (if you’re taking any ofc-)

Laughing Jack x fem!reader w/ BPD who has him as her FP!

UEUEUEUE im so happy to hear you love my writing sm ehehehe! always thrilled to hear people enjoying my stuff/that it makes them happy! i hope you enjoy this, i havent written a reader with BPD before so i hope this is decent! also also youre doing wonderful; requesting i mean! i dont think theres many rules against how youre meant to request (every blog is different though!!)

honestly i think hes genuinely thrilled to be taken around and about with you in his little box! usually hes sitting in his box waiting for an unfortunate soul to take it home; its been like this for... a while now... so actually being able to go around and see things is a nice change of pace! plus it makes him feel more included in your life rather than just being an "at home friend"

i think in the beginning youre going to have to ask him to pipe down a little since he might talk a little too loud... like near yelling because hes just so excited

loves helping you shop :)! quick heads up though he might beg you to buy stuff you guys dont need

general silly ideas aside, i think hed be chattering the entire time so you two probably always have a conversation going on whenever you guys are out

probably sneers at people who give you looks tbh, will probably trip them if they decide to be a little ruder and mutter something under their breath while theyre passing by you... i mean they cant prove anything! they just tripped on air! jack totally didnt swipe one of his long arms out and tug their ankle back!

the only downside is that jack cant do much outside of talking and sneaking stuff around since him just fully popping out his box might blow his cover, you know? doesnt mean he doesnt have the urge to jump out when he sees you getting a little stressed out or overwhelmed about your surroundings or when someone is being particularly cruel

though i dont doubt hes remembering faces; i mean at the end of the day hes still a clown that specializes in torment, do i really need to say what hes cooking up in his brain?

no in cases where you're beginning to struggle hes probably going to try to quietly urge you to disconnect and take a breather

keeps your favorite candies on him at all times and slips them into your hand, probably does the same to any stress/fidget toys you may or may not have.. though i do hc he can just materialize certain things and i can easily see that sort of thing falling into something he can just yoink into existence

very good at reassuring you of your worth and how much you mean to him; this is a general thing but i think he makes it more of a point if self image is something you particularly struggle with

who would have thunk it, the clown with abandonment issues is good at reassuring others that hes not going to go anywhere

[ofmermaidstories]

This might be a weird question but how do you think the in another life y/n’s would react to fanfiction about their heroes? Would they read it🧐🧐🧐

Omg. Okay, okay, I have thought about this and ConsultedTM and here are my thoughts:

Weeds would like, know about Real Hero Fiction, but like, try to avoid it after dating Bakugou. 🥹 I think it’d be a weird level of disconnect for Weeds!!! 🥺 Like, that’s not Katsuki. 💀 That’s Kenneth, and he growls too much. 💀 Plus also Weeds is a bit of a Jelly Baby, so I think Weedsie-Woo would be smart enough to avoid it.

(Denki though absolutely sends Weeds his personal favourites though. Pirate AU longfic where Kacchan is some dashing, grump captain. Cowboy American AUs that have clearly been well, well researched, even with the UFO sightings. I mentioned this to @/andypantsx3 and she thinks that Denki absolutely retweets his faves.

light it up like an ELECTRIC STRIKE ⚡️: does bakugou actually do this, yes/no???? the fans need to KNOW

light it up like an ELECTRIC STRIKE ⚡️: ao3.com/inthemiddleofthenight-we’llbealright

light it up like an ELECTRIC STRIKE ⚡️: dw about the watersports warning it’s not that bad and it happens on someone else

SCRIBBLES on the other hand—yes, lmfao. Scribbles has like, absolutely bought Pro Hero Deku doujinshi, so like. Yes, LOL. Scribbles actively reads the most depraved of them out loud to Izuku, which ends up with him horrified and Scribbles rolling around on the floor, unable to breathe with how she’s laughing (at least until Izuku lets himself slide from the bed to join Scribbles on the floor, burying his hot face into the side of her neck).

(Jewels—Shouto’s Reader—gets sent Shouto/Reader fics via a Bestie, and reads them after work and absolutely has a slew of favourites that will never be shared)

[buddie-fic-recs-this-way]

now our love lives in the radio

—if you love college buddie, this one's for you!

author: heartbeatdiaz | rated: e | words: 9.1k |ao3 link

summary:

"And now, folks, let's begin with your favorite part of the night." Eddie can practically hear the smirk on Buck's face. "9-1-1 Cupid, what's your heartbreak?"

Eddie smiles despite himself and gets more comfortable on the couch.

"Who will be our first caller tonight?"

He doesn't register what he's doing until it's too late. It's like his brain temporarily disconnects from himself and when Eddie comes back to reality, his phone is on his hand and glued to his ear.

"I have a crush on you," he blurts out the second Buck picks up, surprising even himself. Seriously, why is he doing any of this? Why can't he stop? Maybe he drank more beer than he thought. He should've kept a better eye on it.

or: buck is the host of a college radio show and eddie has a big fat crush on him, what else can i say? featuring cinderella references and a bunch of himbos from buck's football team. <33

—kels reasons to read—

radio host buck is so special to me; its the perfect job for him fr 🥹

eddie being so stupidly in love

they're so oblivious and in their own world on a PUBLIC show; they're so embarrassing. i love them

and when they finally meet?? the cutest

@loserdiaz

[universitypenguin]

Hey Alice :) I know you did something already for Valentine’s Day where Lloyd spoiled princess but I was wondering what if the roles were reversed? Would princess 👑 do anything sweet for Lloyd? As always thank you so much for writing this amazing story 🥹

Thank you so much for this ask! 🥰

I had a lot of fun thinking about what Princess would do for Lloyd on Valentine’s Day if she were the one planning their celebration. I know for a lot of men it feels like a one sided bargain which is something a guy like Lloyd would find incredibly annoying. Of course he loves Princess, so his perspective on the holiday has shifted, but I feel like Princess would want to do something special for him, too.

When I was pondering the dynamics between the characters, I did a lot of thinking about that piece I wrote about Lloyd’s approach to Valentine’s Day. It’s clear that his plan for the day was mainly driven by his need for social validation. Yes, his overall goal was to please Princess, but his actions in the story centered around impressing her social circle and gaining attention. This is quintessential Lloyd Hansen behavior. He’s motivated by a very superficial type of recognition, because that’s all he’s ever known before.

Princess is very aware of this because she understands Lloyd and knows how to read him. That said, by the end of the day she was getting sick of the extravagance and the theatrical, exhibitionistic display it had become. She did appreciate his efforts, but what she really wanted was a personal connection that memorialized their relationship, not ones driven by external validation.

Side bar: The fact that Jenn was the one who realized the disconnect between Lloyd and Princess was so funny to me. Like, if you’ve read the backstory pieces you know Jenn and Lloyd absolutely despise each other. She really proved her devotion to Princess by going to Lloyd in private and re-orientating him in the right direction. It was kind of like watching the Grinch save Christmas. 😂

So, after all this reflection on what Lloyd’s take on Valentine’s Day represented to the characters, I came up with a plan for how Princess would choose to spend the holiday if planning it were up to her.

First, she wouldn’t try to steal Lloyd’s thunder by planning something for the actual date of Valentine’s Day on her own. Knowing how important it is to him to have center stage and step up to prove his worth as a boyfriend to her (and all of their friends and coworkers) she’d sit back and graciously indulge his extravagant public display of affection. Princess would wholeheartedly mask her desire for more intimate gestures in an effort to honor his intentions.

Which is why she would plan her own Valentine’s Day celebration… but in deference to Lloyd, she’d arrange it for the weekend after V-Day.

Her take on the holiday would prioritize their shared interests and revolve around activities they both enjoy, starting with a relaxing morning at the spa and a leisurely brunch. For the afternoon Princess would reserve a cozy spot at one of Lloyd's favorite restaurants for a late lunch, ensuring a quiet, private ambiance for uninterrupted conversation.

As for his gift, Princess would cater to Lloyd's interests, by arranging a golf trip to Myrtle Beach for him and his friends. The rest of their afternoon would be spent wandering through the D.C. botanical gardens, a favorite pastime of Princess’ that Lloyd has also come to appreciate. In the evening they’d go on a romantic sunset catamaran ride down the Potomac River to cap off the day.

The rest of their night unfolds at home. Having spent the day out on the town, Princess would opt for reheating leftovers at home over going out for a fancy dinner. After all, Lloyd’s homemade Coq au Vin from their Valentine’s Day meal is even better the second time around. Then they would cuddle up on the couch with their dinner as Lloyd picks out a movie for them to watch. When he suggests turning the weekend after Valentine’s Day into their own personal holiday, a warmth spreads through Princess’ chest.

For some, it would be devastating if their partners’ approach to celebrating a romantic holiday like Valentine's Day was very different from their own. However, at that moment Princess realizes that she’d never want to spend Valentine’s Day with anyone else. Despite the fact that they have incredibly different perspectives and values - something which could easily drive a wedge between even the strongest of couples - she and Lloyd somehow always come to a unique, peculiar state of equilibrium. They balance each other out, and in the end, that’s the best gift he could ever give her.