#anyways still thinking about them always thinking about them

[jeeaark]

Remember Auntie Ethel's victim who could see people's possible futures? Yeaaah, Greygold walked right into that prophecy.

In the Far Realms, they have memory foam beds

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA if

i had a falling out with this friend of mine, who is also a tumblr user. there have been a lot of reasons for that, and one of the many-many reasons were her political views, that are generally considered questionable by people around here. people usually wanna know if the person they're interacting with is that type of a person. disclaimer: she's not like. A Bigot. or something. it's just that a lot of people are uncomfortable interacting with someone who holds those views.

she's like, not exactly open about them but reblogs a ton from people who are and made a couple posts that make them obvious.

however, she likes interacting with all kinds of people despite their DNIs and stuff, because she thinks there's no harm as long as they don't know, even if it's all on her blog.

now, to the aita part. we don't follow each other anymore but tumblr recommends her posts to me a lot, perhaps because we used to be mutuals/i have some of her posts liked and i cba to go through all my likes to unlike them. no, i don't wanna block her because i don't block people. as a matter of principle. i tried filtering her username out but i end up always clicking on the post anyway. i'm one nosy bitch, what can i say?

sometimes, she posts about my hyperfixation. something that is very dear and important to me. i don't know the reason why she's doing it because she knows nothing about it and doesn't care about it, but sometimes she makes throwaway comments "based on what she heard" (so, based on what I told her while we were still friends).

and for every time she does so that i end up seeing (happened like 5ish times now), i send one of her mutuals who would be uncomfortable interacting with her had they known about her views an anonymous ask about it. i don't leak anything personal that she'd told me or anything of the sort, i just link the accounts of people she reblogs from and some of her posts on the topic like "hey, take a look at that". each time, it results in the person blocking her and thanking me for telling them in a separate post.

on one hand, i'm technically doing the right thing, since these people hate interacting with people like her, and they just didn't browse her blog enough to know that that's the kind of person she is, even though it's all open source. they're grateful i told them, too.

on the other, i'm doing it for incredibly childish and selfish reasons. had i not seen her bring my hyperfixation up, i wouldn't have done that because i'm not mother theresa like that. but for that reason, it brings me immense satisfaction to do so. especially when she posts stuff like "omg, (name) blocked me... why" and has no clue why. in my mind, it's punishment for touching something that i consider My Thing. i kind of want her to someday understand what's going on, even if it's stupid and territorial of me. like that's what's gonna continue happening if you continue touching My Thing, not giving it the respect it deserves at that too. as i've said, she only regurgitates the stuff i told her because she doesn't care about it. i have a suspicion she's only doing it to piss me off in case i still visit her blog. no idea but it does piss me off. and doing what i described really calms me down.

so, aita?

[hoshifighting]

virgin!mingyu x reader

warnings: first time experience, oral, hair grabbing, cock riding, slightly nipple play (m receiving)...

you and mingyu always bicker. it's your thing. teasing, mocking—it's all part of the routine. recently, though, you’ve been working on a college project with wonwoo, mingyu’s roommate. 

mingyu had just broken up with his girlfriend from campus a little while ago. wonwoo mentioned that his girlfriend lost patience with mingyu because he didn’t want to have sex with her. 

what she didn’t know was that he’s still a virgin. 

when you heard that, you felt sad. mingyu isn’t a bad person at all.you remember back in high school when you were the one being mocked for never having kissed anyone. mingyu, hearing all the fuss in the canteen, just walked over and kissed you. it made all the teasing stop.

you didn’t like that the gossip was about him now. one evening, wonwoo excuses himself, saying he needs to go to his parents' home. he leaves you at their dorm to finish the project, knowing mingyu is around.

“hey, can you pass me the glue?” you ask, not looking up from your work.

mingyu, lounging on his bed with a comic book, grumbles but gets up and hands it to you. “you know, you could get it yourself,” he says, a smirk playing on his lips.“

“yeah, but then i’d miss out on this delightful conversation,” you shoot back, rolling your eyes.

there’s a pause, then mingyu sits down across from you, watching you work. 

it’s quiet, almost too quiet, and you can feel his eyes on you. 

finally, you break the silence.“so, uh, wonwoo told me about you and your girlfriend,” you say, trying to keep your tone casual.mingyu’s expression darkens a bit.

 “oh, he did, did he?”

“yeah. i just… i’m sorry. she didn’t deserve to know anyway,” you say, fumbling with the glue cap.

he raises an eyebrow. “didn’t deserve to know what?”

“that you’re… you know, still a virgin,” you mumble, avoiding his gaze.

mingyu sighs and leans back in his chair. “it’s not something i’m ashamed of, you know. it’s just… private.”

“yeah, i get it. people can be really judgmental about stuff like that,” you say, thinking back to high school again.

“like when you hadn’t kissed anyone yet,” mingyu says, reading your mind.

“exactly,” you say, smiling a little. “that day in the canteen… you really saved me from a lot of embarrassment.”

he chuckles. “i remember. your face was so red.”

“oh, shut up,” you laugh, throwing a balled-up piece of paper at him.

he catches it easily, tossing it back. “i just didn’t want them to make you feel bad. you didn’t deserve it.”

“neither do you,” you say softly. “i think i... can help if you want to,” you say softly, feeling your cheeks warm up.

mingyu looks at you, confusion flickering across his face. “help with what?”

you swallow, feeling a bit nervous but determined. “with, you know, the whole... virgin thing.”

his eyes widen, and he sits up straighter. “wait, are you saying...?”

“yeah,” you interrupt, feeling a bit more confident. “i mean, if you want to, that is. no pressure.”

mingyu is silent for a moment, processing what you just said. then he runs a hand through his hair, a nervous habit you’ve seen a hundred times. “why would you want to do that?”

“because you deserve someone who cares and won’t judge you,” you say simply. “and because... i trust you.”

he looks at you, searching your face for any hint of a joke or insincerity. finding none, he takes a deep breath. “are you sure? i mean, we’ve always just...”

“bickered? yeah, i know. but there’s more to us than that,” you say, moving closer to him. “i think we’ve always known that, deep down.”

mingyu’s eyes soften, and he reaches out to take your hand. “okay. i trust you too.”

you both sit there for a moment, holding hands and letting the reality of the situation sink in. then, with a small smile, you lean in and kiss him.

you lean in and kiss him, feeling the softness of his lips and the tentative way he kisses back. it’s gentle at first, but soon the kiss deepens, becoming more urgent. your hands move to his shirt, pulling it up and over his head, revealing the smooth skin of his chest.

you break the kiss, trailing your lips down his neck and across his chest. you plant a soft kiss on each of his nipples, hearing his sharp intake of breath, a soft moan escaping his lips. his embarrassment is endearing, but you can tell he’s enjoying it.

“relax,” you whisper, your voice a soft command. “just enjoy it.”

you continue your path downward, kissing and nibbling along his stomach, feeling his muscles tense under your touch. when you reach the waistband of his pants, you look up at him, seeing the anticipation and nervousness in his eyes. you slide his pants down, freeing him from the confines of his clothes.

taking him into your hand, you give him a reassuring smile before lowering your mouth to him. your tongue flicks out, tasting the saltiness of his skin, and you can feel him shudder. as you take him deeper into your mouth, you hollow your cheeks and suck gently, eliciting a deep moan from him.

his hand tangles in your hair, not guiding, just holding, as if he needs the connection to ground himself. you start to move, slowly at first, getting used to the feel of him in your mouth. your spit makes everything slick, and you can taste the faint hint of precum.

you take him deeper, trying to relax your throat as you push him further in. his hips jerk slightly, and you feel his breath hitch. your fingers trail along his length, adding to the sensation, and you glance up to see his eyes half-closed, mouth slightly open in pleasure.

as you increase your pace, taking him as deep as you can, you press a finger gently against the slit at the tip, preventing him from reaching his climax too soon. he groans, the sound desperate and full of need.

“please,” he whispers, his voice strained.

you pull back, letting him slip from your mouth. “not yet,” you murmur, climbing back up to straddle him. you align yourself with him, and with a slow, deliberate motion, you sink down onto him.

the feeling is intense for both of you, and you take a moment to adjust, watching the way his eyes widen with the new sensation. you start to move, rocking your hips in a steady rhythm. his hands find your waist, holding you as if he’s afraid you might disappear.

“god, you feel amazing,” he groans, his grip tightening.

you smile down at him, leaning forward to kiss him again. the kiss is hungry, filled with the heat of the moment. as you move faster, you can feel him getting closer, his breathing becoming more erratic.

you adjust your angle, finding that perfect spot that makes both of you see stars. his moans grow louder, and you can tell he’s right on the edge. you pick up the pace, wanting to give him an unforgettable first time.

“come for me, mingyu,” you whisper against his lips.

with a final, deep thrust, he cries out, his body shuddering as he reaches his climax. the feeling of him coming inside you sends you over the edge as well, and you ride out the waves of pleasure together.

you collapse onto his chest, both of you breathing hard, sweat-slicked and spent. he wraps his arms around you, holding you close, and you can feel his heart pounding against yours.

“that was...” he begins, but he doesn’t seem to have the words.

“unforgettable?” you suggest, smiling as you nuzzle into his neck.

“yeah,” he agrees, his voice full of awe and gratitude. “unforgettable.”

[leclerity]

just another stranger

Charles Leclerc x Ex-Girlfriend!Reader count: 1.4k words summary: After Charles's win in Monaco, he seeks you out, to mend things. a/n: everybody cried at the monaco gp but let's cry some more! (happy ending)

He wins in Monaco. You knew he would—it was only a matter of time—but you always thought you’d be by his side when he won.

Yet here you are, in your friend’s apartment, watching him as if you were just another stranger to him.

“He won,” your friend says, a moment too soon, and then: “CHARLES LECLERC WON IN MONACO!”

The room erupts into cheers and you’re watching half the race playing on the TV, half the track from the window, hearing the roars of the audience match those of your heart. Your friend hugs you and the rest of your friends are screaming, popping champagne as if they were the ones in the car, not your ex-boyfriend.

You feel an arm around your shoulders – it’s your best friend. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

“You sure?”

“Promise,” you lie. “I’m fine.”

She goes away and you lean out of the window, hoping to catch the sight of his car passing by. If he drives slowly enough, if he remembers that this is where your best friend’s apartment is, if he looks up… You tell yourself not to hope, but your heart thumps in your chest, anyway.

The roars of the crowd come before the car, and then you see him – the striking red car with 16 stuck to the front. You’ve been here before—in Monaco, with him, in the paddock—yet now you’re watching him from a distance. It was his choice, all those months ago, but your final word.

He doesn’t look up.

Not that you see, anyway.

The victory lap finishes and your friends all rush to the couch to watch the podium, even though you can just about see if from the window. It’s not close enough to see anything more than tiny figures, dressed in splotches of colour, but it makes it just a little more real.

The podium comes and goes. You tear up, on the balcony, shifting between looking at the events in real life and on the TV. There’s the tiny voice in the back of your head, wondering if he’s wondering about you, too, but you try to push it down.

Still, on the podium, even with tears of joy in his eyes, you see him searching the crowd. They’ve already shown his family and most of his friends are down there and he knows it, and the voice suggests he might be looking for you, too.

“Let’s go out,” your friend says. “Celebrate.”

“I think I’ll sit this one out.”

“You don’t want to meet him by chance? Congratulate him yourself?”

You give her a look that tells her it’s just about the last thing you want.

Eventually, your friends leave, and you’re left by yourself, scrolling social media. He’s everywhere—all your friends from Monaco are posting about it, even those you haven’t seen since you moved away—and his face stares at you, guilt brewing in your stomach.

You’d made him choose.

He didn’t choose you.

When the door buzzes, you think it’s your friend who forgot her key—they’ve been out for a couple of hours now and they’d be at least a few drinks down—yet when you buzz them up and open the door…

It’s he who stares back at you.

“Hi, Y/N,” he says. “Can we talk?”

You let him in. He sits on the couch, still wearing his Ferrari shirt,

“I thought you’d have gotten changed by now.”

Charles shakes his head. “I, uh… I came straight here.”

You sit down, opposite of him. Through the open window, you can hear life from the streets of Monaco – loud, drunk people, celebrating the win as if it were their own. Your friends are there, amongst those people, but you…

“Why?”

“I know you moved away,” he says. “And I remember where your friend lives. And I hoped…”

He doesn’t finish. You see the cogs turning—the words flying around his brain, refusing to come out—and you smile at him. “Congratulations.”

He sighs. “Yeah. Thanks.”

“You’re not happy?”

“No.” Charles looks at you, his eyes crystal clear, and you know exactly what he’s going to say. “How could I be, without you?”

“Charles—”

“How many times have we spoken about this? About the win, at home, with you by my side?”

Your body shudders as memories flood you: the nights spent together, whispering about it in the dark… The dream of him driving up the car and running up to kiss you, knowing that you made it… The promise of being there to watch him step on the podium as the anthem is played…

The guilt grows bigger, and you stifle a sob.

Charles shakes his head. “I wish you were there. I wish I hadn’t pushed you away. I wish I’d appreciated you more.”

But you didn’t, you want to say, but you don’t.

Old you would. Old you wanted to be the first, the priority, the number one to the great Charles Leclerc – only to always fall second, behind racing. Behind the car. Behind practice. Behind excercise. There was less and less time made for you, until you told him to choose.

He puts a hand on your knee. “I know this isn’t fair, but it’s been nearly a year, and I… I was wrong. I was wrong, okay? Coming home to an empty bed, not knowing how your day’s been, not seeing you in the paddock every race, Y/N, it’s killing me.”

It’s killing me, too, you want to say, but you don’t. You can’t—won’t—admit that out loud.

Someone’s laughter pierces through the night. Charles’s eyes dart to the window before they’re right back on you and he moves closer, and the part of your thighs touching shocks you to the core.

You try to remind yourself you’re just another stranger to him. You weren’t worth more than racing to him then, you’re not worth—

“You’re everything to me,” he whispers.

A tear falls down your cheek – he wipes it away before you can, and then he’s looking at your lips with water welling up in his eyes, too.

“Charles…”

“I wish I could—I want to go back to a time before it was too late. I want to fix things. I want to do it right, and not be a damn fool again.”

His hands are on your cheek and you can feel his breath on your lips – all it would take is for you to lean in. Just a little movement, just a little show of faith. You whisper his name again, this time no more than a breath.

You feel him sigh. “It’s not winning if it’s not with you.”

Your lips are on his, tentative then desperate, trying to make up for all the words you can’t bright yourself to stay. His hands are on your cheeks, then your waist, then your back, and you feel like he’s touching you all over just to make sure you’re real, that he’s truly holding you, and not a dream.

You don’t say that the past few months have been the worst of your life. You don’t say that you were selfish, and that maybe you failed to account for who he is, and always will be—a racer—and maybe you were the one who was asking too much from him. Maybe you’d rather be second to him, than be anyone else’s first.

And maybe you’ve known this all along, but admitting it was too much – until today.

Until now.

The kiss comes to a close and Charles pulls you into him, skin on skin, and you’re melting into his arms. He places kisses all over your hair, your face, your neck and your chest, not letting go of you even for a moment.

Later in the night, when you’re lying in your friend’s spare bed, you see the winner’s smile for the first time as he kisses you yet again. Monaco is alive outside, with the night still a long way to go, but partying couldn’t measure up to the electricity surging from his touch.

“Y/N,” he says.

“Mhm?”

His thumb traces your lips. You’ve been here before—a million times—but this time, it’s different. It’s old and new, fresh and familiar, and just a little, you start letting yourself hope again.

“Now, I feel like I’ve finally won.”

[anifever]

Hii, can you make Johnny cade or the gang with reader kinda like Charlotte LA Bouff from princess and the frog because I'm just thinking that it would be so interesting having kind of s/o so spoiled but kind and not a brat too, I love Lottie tho✨😭

Gang w/ a Lottie!Reader ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

The Outsiders x Fem!Reader

୨୧ : The Curtis gang with a reader whose like Charlotte La Bouff from “Princess and the Frog”

A/N : AHHH I’m sorry this took me so long I’ve been busy w other stuff. Anyways, I always wanted to be Lottie when I was younger 🥲 hopefully I got this close enough to her character also sorry these are shorter than normal <\3

˖⁺‧₊˚ 🎀 ˚₊‧⁺˖

Darry

୨ He’s honestly a little jealous of you

୨ He feels like you have everything he doesn’t

୨ That being said, does NOT stop the man from loving you once he sees how sweet and generous you are

୨ Your personalities are super different tho

୨ You’re so bubbly and bright and he thinks it’s endearing

୨ You definitely keep him on his toes

୨ You also keep him young

୨ Whenever he seems to be struggling more than usual with finances, you swoop in and save the day

୨ He’s like “??? Honey, I can’t take this,” and you’re just like “Too late, Dare-Bear, don’t worry about it 😊”

୨ Whenever you sleep over you wear a frilly pink sleep mask he has trouble not smiling over

୨ You love his cooking and are always drooling over it

୨ It’s a habit for you to bring pastries, etc from a bakery on the other side of town whenever you come over

୨ Earlier in the relationship/before you started dating, he knew how spoiled you were and he was like “..how am I supposed to compete with this.”

୨ Luckily you find him extremely muscly, attractive, and sweet so it makes up for his money 😋😋

୨ Either way, he still buys you whatever he can when he has the spare cash

୨ You have him wrapped around your finger

Two-Bit

୨ Couldn’t hold back his laugh when he saw a childhood picture of you dressed as a princess for Halloween

୨ You guys honestly go together so well

୨ If you have the same type of accent Lottie has- even better

୨ The first thing you said when you met his sister was “Well aren’t you as pretty as a peach!”

୨ Safe to say that made him more smitten

୨ You walk him like a dog it’s so funny

୨ He doesn’t spend as much money on beer anymore cuz he saves a lot up for you

୨ Found a stray kitty on the street and you started squealing when he brought it to you

୨ He was cheesing from ear to ear

୨ Has tried to get you to kiss a frog before after you told him you always wanted to when you were younger (mwahaha) and you freaked out

୨ That being said, he picks up random bugs all the time to try and gross you out- which works

୨ You never hurt them though⁉️⁉️ You just run away and start screaming

୨ Whenever he starts insulting people if they’re mean to you or something, you start dying of laughter which spurrs him on more

Steve

୨ He’s torn between thinking you’re a brat to also being extremely attracted to you

୨ He assumes you’re a mean girl who lives off daddy’s money (the second part being lowkey true)

୨ Doesn’t stop him from drooling tho

୨ Contrary to popular belief, you were actually really nice

୨ Like you came into the DX one day, giving him a huge tip while talking super animatedly and he was just like “Ah..”

୨ Whenever he talks about cars you have no clue what he’s talking about

୨ You have a pretty pink ‘62 Ferrari 250 GTO and that’s all you know!!

୨ You buy new clothes constantly and have lil’ fashion shows for him

୨ “Yeahhh, could you jus’ spin around one more time so I can see the back? 😇”

୨ “….Steve.”

୨ Whenever nobody else is around (Soda, etc) at the DX, you give him WAY bigger of a tip than normal lmao

୨ Brags about you to Soda all the time

Dallas

୨ He thought you were so annoying at first I’m sorry 😭

୨ Even with that, he still tried to get in your pants

୨ You slapped him for it which just made him want you more (he’s on that freak timing)

୨ You know what you want and he’s honestly really attracted to it

୨ He ends up spoiling you though, he can’t help it when you give him puppy dog eyes and pout your glossy lips

୨ Hilariously different

୨ Whenever he’s in your room he’s so out of place

୨ He’s surrounded by so much pink, stuffed animals, expensive jewelry and clothes, a big canopy bed, a crystal chandelier, etc

୨ His ego gets boosted when he’s out in public with you

୨ Like he’s with the prettiest and richest girl in town??? Yeahhh he’ll never let this go

୨ You not caring about his/his friends status’ is really important to him and he appreciates it even though he’ll never outright say it

Soda

୨ You guys both have a big line of people who want you

୨ Power couple!!

୨ You’re really ditzy- not necessarily stupid, but not all there

୨ He relates.

୨ You guys just sit there and look pretty

୨ Like you definitely have won various beauty pageants and have kept all the tiaras and sashes

୨ Makes you try the tiaras on every time he comes over

୨ He takes you to a drag race or rodeo and you’re like “Shew- Soda, I’m sweatin’ like a sinner in church,” while fanning yourself

୨ Probably because you’re wearing some expensive dress from a boutique in town made with thick material, but he’ll never smart off to you by saying that 🤍🤍

୨ Has a habit of ruining his DX shirt and you always pay for him to get a new one

୨ He already knew he was attractive, but it was only when you came along and started buttering him up that he started getting giddy about it

୨ He sucks up so hard to your mom and dad; they love him

Johnny

୨ Probably teased you a bit with Pony before you guys officially met

୨ After the initial iffy feeling he had about you wore off, he was head over heels when he knew you better

୨ He genuinely sees you as a princess

୨ You’re always wearing some shade of pink and some form of pearls and he’s mesmerized

୨ He thinks you deserve a lot better since he can’t give you much

୨ You literally couldn’t care less though since he treats you so well

୨ He’ll save up random coins off the street if he had to tho

୨ Your house is huge so you let him stay in a spare room which eventually just becomes his own

୨ Your house also did nothing to help his idea of you being a princess since it was way bigger and more extravagant than anything he could’ve imagined

୨ Your cat(s) love him, he’s a little overwhelmed at first but after that you’ll always find him with one around/on him

୨ You’re so comfortable fawning over him constantly and he gets pretty embarrassed about it LMAO

Pony

୨ He has a thing for pretty rich girls so this is fitting

୨ Once again, he also assumed you were mean and stuck up

୨ When you guys talked for the first time, he was definitely surprised

୨ You were definitely a bit out of touch with reality, but who cares!!!! You were pretty and nice!!!!

୨ Saw you stand up for one of your greaser friends once and felt his heart skip a beat

୨ Heard through the grapevine (he asked around) that you were enamored with some ‘pretty boy’ and couldn’t stop talking about him and he was like “Awww shucks 😞”

୨ He became extremely confused and denied it when Two and Johnny kept saying it was him after they saw you two interact at school

୨ He finally picked up on the heavy flirting one day and was like “…OHHHH”

୨ Whenever you get excited about something, he has a hard time understanding you since you start talking so fast and freaking out, but he just watches with a lovesick grin

୨ Your sass put together is on another level

୨ It scares Darry.

୨ And Steve.

୨ Back to the point I made earlier, you’d stand up for him about his status no matter what

୨ So in love it’s nasty

୨ Everyone in the gang is confused about how he bagged you especially considering he’s the youngest

[yumenari]

Guys did you know today is the birthday of the loml (and their snake familiar)

[rebelfell]

I’m supes regular about him today, okay you guys? not feeling unhinged at all. nope, no way, nuh-uh, not me.

Anyway, here’s 659 words of something…

“What the hell did you do?”

The question popped out before you could stop it, sounding more like an accusation. You stood in the door of the Hideout, the only one who wasn’t currently surrounding the members of Corroded Coffin offering congratulations on completing their first ever tour. 

The rest of your friends had already filed inside, wrapping all the boys up in hugs after not seeing them for months, but you couldn’t move your feet, seemingly rooted to the sticky bar floor.

Eddie’s head turned at the sound of your voice and his mouth twitched like he couldn’t decide if he should smile or frown. He gave you a sheepish look, his head tilted and his chin tucked down as he squinted at you with one eye pinched closed and rubbed his hand over his head.

His shaved head.

“I, uh…” he chuckled weakly, almost guilty sounding, “I buzzed it about halfway through the tour. I was sweating buckets on stage every night. Dripping everywhere. It was kind of a hazard.”

“It was disgusting,” Gareth confirmed, giving a deep nod that sent his own tawny curls flopping before he absconded to the corner booth for a proper reunion with his girl.

Eddie took a careful step towards you, holding open his arms for you to fill the space in between.

Your body screamed at you to embrace him, to wrap him up in your arms and let him hold you as tight as he could with his; to bury your face in the crook of his exposed neck (fuck, his neck) and fill your nose with his scent you’d missed so much.

You couldn’t do it, though. Slipping past to get to the bar instead, your arms folded in front of your chest with your eyes glaring into the dingy mirror behind the rows of liquor bottles and beer taps.

You knew you had no real right to be pissed— you weren’t even sure what specifically you were pissed about. But seeing him again for the first time in months looking so different…

All you could think was what if his hair wasn’t the only thing that changed? 

What if he met someone on tour, or decided he could do better than the one at home?

What if he’d forgotten all that stuff he said before he left? When you were crying, clinging onto him, your fingers twisting in his curls as your heads bent close together but your lips never met.

“I don’t want our first kiss to be a goodbye,” he had told you. And you really bought it.

He leaned on the bar next to you, the side of his arm pressed up against yours. It was a little more muscled now, you noticed, but still radiating with his body heat. You kept your eyes down, staring at the scuff marks and graffiti that marred the wood, trying not to think about your initials carved into it next to his way down at the other end.

“So you hate it, then?” he asked, leaning in, butting your shoulder with his head and giving you that round and pleading, doe-eyed stare of his he was so annoyingly good at.

It still made you melt, so that hadn’t changed.

You paused, daring to take another glance at him, your face only turning a fraction of the way in his direction. Your eyes lingered on his profile, always nice, but more noticeable and pronounced now that it wasn’t surrounded by his wild mane and fluffy bangs. The sharpness of his jaw dusted with scruff you were trying really hard (and failing) not to imagine scraping against your inner thighs. 

The thick, muscled column of his neck that had never looking more appetizing.

A smile tugged at the corner of your lips and you shifted subtly as your thighs clenched, squishing with the arousal that had been collecting there from the moment you walked in.

“I didn’t say that.”

[synthetickitsune]

Hi!! I love your work sm and I was wondering if u could write a minghao drabble with the prompt “you don’t count- I love u” thank u 🤍🤍

The8 (SVT) | "You don't count - I love you" fluff | 0.8k | gn!reader A/N: thank you for requesting! also inspired by @hanniedream's froggy ring post and bibi being a menace feeding into all of my delusions

“Absolutely not.”

You pout at him, whine his name, whisper into his ear how cute it would be to have a matching jewelry - a silly piece, the exact opposite of the classy necklaces and rings and bracelets you already had plenty of. But nothing gets Minghao to change his mind, and so the little froggy faces can only watch as you leave the store without them.

You sulk about it only a little. At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter. Your relationship matters, and it’s loving and wonderful, and Minghao is the best partner you could wish for. What would be the point in wearing a matching ring if you knew he hated it? He always makes sure you don’t lack anything you want or need, silly or serious. You let it go and truth be told, the entire thing slips your mind.

Until today.

Until today’s afternoon, to be exact, today’s very ordinary afternoon when your boyfriend suddenly told you to close your eyes before putting a little box in your palms.

“Open it,” he smiles at you as he sits down next to you.

You feel a lump in your throat. There are two rings staring at you. Matching rings. One with a little black frog, its limbs spread as if it was swimming, and the other with little lily pads and a white blossom. Minghao must’ve had them made, you don’t think he could find rings like this in a shop somewhere. 

“Do you like them?” he asks with a small smile. His hand slowly rubs circles on the small of your back. You look at him in disbelief.

“Why Hao?” you take a shaky breath. He frowns, sitting closer to you and putting his other hand over your knee. 

“What do you mean why?” his brows are knitted together, “Do you not like them?”

“No, I do - I love them,” you sigh, “But you hate things like this.”

You look at them again. The sizes make it pretty clear which ring is his and which is yours. He’ll look even more like he came out of a fairytale with the tiny blossom adoring his finger. You truly love them. You love the cute little frog. And you appreciate the gesture, but…

“I wouldn’t get them if I hated the idea - or if I didn’t like these rings themselves,” he assures you patiently.

“But you hated the silly frog rings I showed you,” you argue back, making Minghao smile and pinch your cheek.

“And I didn’t get those, did I?” he watches you laugh and loosens up a little himself.

“These are still silly,” you shake your head, “More… tasteful and elegant, but silly.”

“I’m good at compromising with you,” he grins. His thumb strokes your knee absentmindedly. It’s good to see you relax again, good to see the tender look in your eyes as you study the rings.

He looks at the box resting in your hands and carefully takes it from you. He slides the frog adorned ring on your finger before handing the now half-empty box back to you. Suddenly he feels shy when you take his hand in yours. You stroke your thumb over the ring once it sits on his finger, tapping the little flower. 

“You know you can tell me if you don’t like them or if I hurt you before and you no longer want silly matching rings. I won’t be upset,” not at you anyway - but he doesn’t say that.

“I’m really happy, Hao,” you lean in for a kiss that he’s more than happy to give you, “I just don’t want you to do anything you don’t like.”

“I’m not,” he threatens the doubts in your mind with a slight pout on his lips.

“You always shut everyone down with things like this though,” you don’t give up, stubborn as he is.

“Well,” he smirks mischievously and leans closer again to steal another kiss, “You don’t count - I love you.”

“That’s so corny,” you scrunch up your nose, pushing at Minghao’s chest without any force. It’s only natural that with every push comes a pull, so you don’t struggle when he pulls you into his side.

“But I won’t wear mine all the time, just so we’re clear,” he says softly yet firmly enough to let you know it’s not up for debate. Still he looks at the ring with a smile.

“I guessed you don’t have that many fits to match it,” you tease, “But I’ll wear mine all the time just so you know.”

“I’ll wear it when I’m not running around schedules. And when I’m with you. We shouldn’t leave the frog without its home for too long, hm?” he laces your fingers together. You gasp when you see it - like this it indeed looks like the frog is swimming towards the lily pads. You can’t help but laugh and snuggle closer to him.

You guess it is a little like that - Mingao is your home.

And you’re Minghao’s whole life, giving his existence a purpose. Even if that might be too much for a little frog to convey.

[atlasmoonglade]

Joost Klein x singlemom!reader

I changed it to reader instead of OC

Chapter 1 ; Chapter 2 ; Chapter 3

Warnings: fluff in the beginning, smut, oral (f!receiving), PiV protected, +18 only

Chapter 4

You wake up to the sound of an alarm clock. You look at your phone. 8:00. Joost groans and reaches towards the nightstand to turn off the alarm.

He lays back down and turns to you noticing you are already awake. "Good morning" his voice is deep, his hair sticking out in every direction.

"Good morning. Why the early alarm?" you ask, pulling up the blanket to your chin.

"I always have it set up to go for a run." he says as he gets comfortable again and puts his arm behind his head. "I don't feel like it today though."

"No, don't let me ruin your routine. I need to get going anyway."

"You are not ruining anything. I don't need it today." he pauses "This is one of the few times that I woke up feeling at ease since I came here." he looks at you with a smile. He does seem well-rested.

"And why is that?" you start to like this game you two are playing.

"I don't know." he says with a teasing note in his voice and he mimics you laying with your blanket up to your chin.

He looks so pretty. Seeing him perform yesterday shifted things. Being mesmerised by his presence on stage, the energy that fills the room when he walks in, wanting to chant his name the way everybody does. But then sleeping in his bed, wearing his t-shirt, which smells like him, made you feel comforted, you have to admit this is also one of the first mornings that you woke with no need to rush. You remember the feeling of his arms around you, the feeling of safety, despite being in a strange to you environment. You want that feeling to last forever. These thoughts scare you, because you can't be with him, he is only staying here to write a song. What happens when he has to leave eventually? It will hurt too much if this progresses any further. But you are afraid it already has.

"What are you thinking about?" he asks.

"I'm trying to guess what your favorite breakfast is." you joke.

"And what are your guesses?"

You squint as you look at him pretending to analyse him. "You look like the type of guy who only needs a cup of coffee."

"I am that type of guy?" he pretends to be offended.

"You do."

"Actually spot on." you both start laughing.

"C'mon, let me show you my favorite breakfast place. Maybe you will be swayed to become a breakfast sandwich type of guy." you get up and he groans.

"Can we stay in bed a little longer?"

"You are the one who had an 8am alarm set up." you bend down to pick up your clothes from the floor where you left them last night. "How do you usually get up that early?" you turn to ask him, his eyes watching your every move. You suddenly feel a blush creeping up your cheeks remembering you are only wearing his t-shirt, which just about covers your underwear. You cover yourself with clothes you are holding.

"I need a second, baby" he says as he shifts to sit on the side of the bed. You quickly turn to face away from him pretending you haven't noticed his bulge.

"I'm gonna, um, shower quickly." you say and hurry off to the bathroom.

He loves the breakfast place you showed him.

"This is the best breakfast sandwich I've had in so long." he says finishing his plate.

"Told you it's good." you smile at him and look at your watch. "This was fun, Joost."

"It was."

"I have some errands I need to run. But you are welcome to come over later. We can watch a movie." you say, "If you want, obviously"

"I would love that." a smile spreads across his face.

It is getting dark by the time you are finished with the tasks you needed to get done. You get a text.

Does your invitation still stand?

I have something to show you.

Yes.

Oh, intriguing.

He is wearing a simple white shirt and black jeans, sitting on your couch, 20 minutes later. You cleaned your apartment in a rush to atleast make it semi-tidy.

"Do you want anything to drink? I have wine." you ask from the kitchen.

"Want to get me drunk already?" he jokes.

"Just trying to match yesterday's energy."

"Sure, I will never say no to wine."

You bring a bottle, two glasses and a bottle opener. He takes it from your hands, opens the bottle, then pours into the glasses.

"To you Joost, to the new friendship."

"To you Y/N, to the new beginning." he says and you both drink.

"I wanted to show you something." he pulls out his phone. "We finished the rough cut of the song I've been working on." he looks at you. "And I, uh, I haven't showed it to many people. But I want you to hear it. It's in dutch, but I prepared a translation, the best I could in a short time, for you." he looks so excited. You've noticed this some time ago, how proud he is of his music. His enthusiasm reaches your heart.

"I would love to hear it." you give him a bright smile. "Let me get comfortable." you sit further up the couch, your legs tucked under you.

He gives you his phone with the translation open and presses play.

The song starts playing, you are following the translation written on his phone. He is watching you, but you are lost in the melody and the lyrics. You don't say anything, scared to interrupt it or miss a word. The chorus starts, an upbeat melody with sad lyrics, you remember the run you went on together, when he said he finished writing it. A warm feeling spreads across your chest, goosebumps covering your arms. He hasn't stopped looking at you, but you can't look up at him. Not yet. You are not ready to meet his eyes. You can't explain it, but this song feels just like him - fun on the outside with so many deep levels you are yet to uncover, but you want it all. You are sitting so close to him, your knees are touching, the smell of him, cigarettes and cologne, filling your senses while his song continues to play. You think back to his warm comfortable bed, his concert, his name suddenly slipping from your lips.

"Joost" you say just above a whisper. You finally meet his eyes. He tries to read your face. The song stops playing. "It's incredible."

"You like it." he also says quietly.

You keep looking at each other. All you can feel is your knees touching, you want more of him.

"You are so talented. Everyone will love it." you pass him the phone, moving to sit even closer to him. "I can already imagine you performing it."

"Thank you. It's still in the process." he takes the phone from your hands, your fingers touching. "I am not sure when I will release it. But I wanted you to hear it."

There is a silence between you, he reaches to touch your hand, it sliding up your arm, bringing you closer to him.

Your whole body feels hot, you stand up. This is wrong. "I, um, will bring us some snacks for the movie." you go to the kitchen island.

You let out a breath. It feels wrong to want him. He is your friend, you shouldn't be feeling this way.

You hear footsteps, the heat of his body behind you.

"Y/N." he says quietly. "Tell me I'm imagining things." he touches your arms in soothing motion. "Tell me you don't want this." his hands sliding down to your waist, his warm hands against your skin.

Your breathing quickens. You don't say anything, even the slightest touch feels so good.

He turns you around to face him, but you look down at your hands. He takes your chin in between his fingers and lifts your head up to look him in the eyes.

"What happens when you have to leave?" you say.

"Let's not think about it yet." your noses are almost touching. "Let's just have fun for now." Fuck it, you think and close the distance between the two of you. Joost's warm lips are on yours, he pushes you into the counter, it is somehow both everything and nothing that you had expected. Soft and gentle and syrupy slow. His tongue sweeps across your lower lip, and you part your mouth, tilting your head, sliding your tongue against his, a little deeper and more insistent now. You push your fingertips through the hair at the nape of his neck, and you feel the breath catch in his throat, so you do it again, this time letting your fingers press into the muscle of his neck, and he groans against your mouth. Joost's scent of musky cologne and faint cigarette smoke sends you into a daze, a whimper sneaking past your lips as his tongue slides against yours.

You pull away from him to catch your breath. He smiles down at you. "Let's watch that movie, yeah?"

You laugh, "yeah".

He follows you back to the couch. You put on a movie, you try to sit still, but you can feel the heat radiating from his body beside you. You can't focus, thinking back about that kiss. You decide not to overthink it now, maybe he is right, let's just have fun. After 20 minutes of the movie, you put your hand over his. He looks down at it, then at you, his mouth turning into a smirk. His fingers interlock with yours and he turns back to watch the movie a smirk still visible on his face.

"This is my favorite part" he motions towards the TV, a double meaning hidden between his words.

You see what he is doing, he wants you to take matters into your own hands. You put your hand on the side of his face, making him look at you and reach up to kiss him again.

"Hey, I was watching that." he says breaking the kiss, you laugh and it makes him grin. His hands grab your waist and move you to sit on top of him. Your legs on each side of his hips. This time the kiss is wet and fast, your teeth clashing. His hands are spanning the soft skin of your stomach, pushing the fabric of your top up, letting it bunch under your breasts. You feel warm all over as you roll your hips against him, which makes him bolder and his hands drop to your ass, grinding you down harder. His mouth presses against the curve of your jaw, feeling your pulse jump, then slides down the column of your throat.

"Let's go to the bedroom" you say breathlessly.

"You sure?" he asks.

"Yes. Are you?

"Yes."

You’d led him to your bedroom then, sat him on the edge of the bed where he’d watched you with dark eyes as you straddle him. Your fingers moving to work on each button of his shirt purposefully, enjoying each inch of skin that was revealed to you with every passing second. Once you finished the final button, he helped you by shrugging the shirt off his shoulders. He leaned back slightly, and you drank in the sight of him. The tattoos covering his body, the hair on his chest. Seizing the moment, and driven by your own arousal, you grabbed the hem of your shirt and pulled it over your head in one swift motion. As soon as your top hit the floor, Joost's mouth was on your chest. A heavy moan was ripped from the back of your throat as his tongue dragged across the top of your breast peeking over the bra.

"Shit," you muttered, raking your hands through his hair and holding him in place against your skin.

He made his way up to your neck. He seemed to be everywhere all at once. He suckled gently, and your hips began to rock against the steadily growing bulge in his pants.

"Please don't leave any marks." you say and he nods continuing to kiss your jaw.

You climb off his lap, dropping the bra and immediately leaning forward to unbuckle his belt. He inches closer to you before sitting back up, and you subconsciously hold your arms against your chest. You start to wonder how many women he had seen naked, how many women he had been with. The age difference between you.

"You are so beautiful." he says his gaze fixed on you, he takes your hand and pulls you onto the bed next to him.

You face him, choosing to look into his eyes. Wanting to feel that way you always felt when you saw him. That calmness and connection that seemed impossibly intimate. He traced the lines of your collarbone and down your arm, ending at your fingertips. With one glance up, he could see the change in your demeanor. You were smiling again.

"Is this okay?" he says sliding your pants and underwear down your legs and allowing them to fall to the floor.

"Yes." you say and a groan leaves his lips as he raised one of your legs to rest over his shoulder, "So fuckin pretty" he says kissing your inner thigh with open-mouthed kisses before making his way back down to your aching pussy.

Pressing his tongue flat against your wetness, Joost took a long and greedy lick up your folds, repeating this a couple more times, before putting his finger inside of you.

“Fuck, Joost,” you breathed out. You feel close to your orgasm, you pull at his hair. "Come here. Need you inside of me." He stands up, finds his wallet in the pocket of his pants and takes out a condom. You watch him as he rips the wrapper with his teeth, he takes off his underwear and puts on the condom.

“You're so fuckin perfect” Joost climbs up onto the bed and kisses you, as he sinks his hips into the cradle of your spread legs. You can feel how hard he is.

"You are still sure about this?" he looks at you.

You pull him down to you, brush your lips to his, “Please.” Your voice is a whisper that sends a shiver down his spine. He thrusts again, and you feel his cock notch against your entrance and then push inside. He settles into you, he feels solid, his skin hot, hips slotted perfectly against you. One of his arms brackets your head, his other hand is at your neck, thumb stroking over the ridge of your jaw, palm pressed against your racing pulse. You feel surrounded and wanted and blindsided by the unexpected tenderness of it all.

He grinds into you again and again, swallowing down your whimpers and moans when you pull his mouth to yours. He drops his hand to push your thigh back, holds you there so that each snug roll of his hips hits that spot that makes you squeeze around him. He thinks you’re close, knows that he is.

"Feels so good" your head is thrown back against the pillows.

He tells you how good you are, how he’s so hard, how you’re going to make him come. And you can’t hold back any longer. He feels it, hot and so wet, the tight squeeze on his cock, which is enough to push him over the edge after you.

"Please stay with me tonight." you say to him.

"I will."

Chapter 5 will be the last one.

[thebisexualdogdad]

Headcanons for dating Felicia Hardy without knowing she's the notorious thief Black Cat.

Felicia Hardy x Male!reader

● you're just a normal guy living in new york city, with a normal job and a normal girlfriend

● (well, at least you think you have a normal girlfriend, you've seen plenty of headlines about the notorious thief Black Cat but never could you possibly imagine that her and your girlfriend Felicia Hardy were one and the same)

● Felicia doesn't talk about her “finance” job much, she says she doesn't want to bore you and prefers to separate business from pleasure anyways

● but you know it's gotta pay well by her luxurious apartment that overlooks the city along with her closets full of expensive clothes and jewelry

● she goes on “work” trips a lot

● most of the time she's still in New york but after you showed up at her apartment one night to surprise her with dinner and wine as she was climbing back through her balcony nearly catching her in her black cat suit she thought telling you she was going out of town for a couple days was safer

● but sometimes she actually does go on trips for heists to change things up and you get pictures from her hotel room saying ‘wish you were here’

● no matter how long you've been together she still flirts with you like it's the first time you met

● and it's become a bit of a game that when you go out she tries to pick you up like you're strangers

● it's how you discovered she is very much a fan of roleplay

● Felicia enjoys romance

● she loves when you plan spontaneous dates around the city

● or bring her flowers for no reason

● but cooking together is her absolute favorite thing

● the kitchen always ends up a mess because she'll toss flour at your shirt to start a food fight

● or put sauce on your lips to lick it off (which usually ends with you making out on the kitchen counter)

● you're out to dinner with Felicia when you notice a guy at another table staring at her

● “do you know that guy? He hasn't stopped staring at you since we got here”

● she looks over her shoulder and knows exactly who it is, “oh that's Peter, he's an old friend and that's his girlfriend MJ”

● “really? We should invite them to join us”

● Peter is super awkward when they do and is trying to figure out if you know about his and Felicia's alter egos or not

● “so Peter how do you and Felicia know each other?”

● “Oh uh- we… you know-” he rambles and Felicia has to save him

● “we used to work together back in the day”

● and MJ kicks him under the table to get it together

● at the end of the night you're walking Felicia home, “Peter and MJ were nice, we should go out with them again sometime, it would be fun to have more couple friends”

● “I'm sure they would love that too” she laughs

● you're watching tv on the couch one lazy afternoon, her legs thrown over your lap when a breaking news story comes on about a priceless jewel going missing with the number one suspect being the black cat

● “it's impressive”

● “what is?”

● “that after all these years spider-man still can't catch black cat, I mean it's not like she's causing any real harm to the city like green goblin or doctor octopus but still, it's impressive”

● she smiles to herself and puts her head on your shoulder

● she wishes she could tell you the truth but for now it's safer for you to not know that the black cat was sitting right next to you

[munsonsmixtapes]

Could you do a fluffy cute fic about Eddie being insecure about his scars after being attacked by the demobats, one where he wouldn’t show his body to reader anymore and then finally feels comfortable enough to show reader and reader comforts him!! Thank you!!!:)

Um, yes, I love this!! So sorry it took me so long to get to this!

cw: Eddie has body insecurity

Eddie x gender neutral!reader

You and Eddie had been together for a few months and he had yet to take his shirt off in front of you. It wasn't because he thought you would have judged, but more that he was so embarrassed about what his torso looked that he didn't want anyone to see it. He was so terrified that people would think it was gross and it was. At least to him.

You had been very aware of the situation and assured Eddie that he could show you when he was comfortable. That there was no rush. You had no idea what that felt like, so you thought that you had no room to rush him. But you could definitely sympathize. You wanted him to know that he was safe with you and that it wouldn't have mattered if he never took his shirt off.

The two of you were lying on your bed when he had made the decision. Being with you felt like being wrapped up in a blanket that was fresh from the dryer. He felt more safe with you than anyone else and trusted that you wouldn't laugh him and that you would have assured him that his scars didn't change anything about him. You'd still love him no matter what.

He crawled off of the bed and stood in front of it, completely blocking your view of the TV to get your attention. He felt tears welling up in his eyes as he slowly lifted his shirt up and you were quick to turn the TV off as you got off the bed to stand on front of him.

You rested your hands on top of his, your eyes searching his for any sign that he was uncomfortable, but all you could see were the tears. You wiped them away from his eyes and rested your hands against his cheeks, making him look you in the eyes.

"You don't have to do this," you assured him, wanting him to know that you weren't forcing him to do it.

"I know," he nodded. "But I want you to. I feel like I owe it to you."

"Honey, you don't owe me anything," You shook your head. And Eddie really didn't owe you anything. His presence was always more than enough for you and would continue to be for the rest of your lives.

"I know I don't, but I just want to show you. Please?" The last word came out as a whisper and you nodded and stepped away, but Eddie just grabbed your hands and guided them to the hem of his shirt.

Together, you lifted his shirt over his head and it fell to the floor beside his feet. You let out a gasp as you took in his torso. Not because it was ugly, but because of how deep all the scars were. They looked like they were painful, but he didn't seem to be in any pain, physically, anyway.

"Can I touch them?" You asked, your voice so low, as if you felt like you shouldn't have been asking that, but Eddie nodded furiously. The fact that you weren't disgusted by him made him let out a sigh of relief. The weight on his shoulders had lifted and he was finally free.

"Please," he begged and took your hands, guiding them to his bare skin. As soon as you touched them, you were thrown into a flashback. You remember getting the call that he was in the hospital and that the outcome didn't look good. You rushed down there just as they had assigned him a room.

Eddie was joking around with the nurses as if he hadn't almost just lost his life and you rushed to him and threw yourself into his arms and cried, so grateful that he was still there and that you didn't have to bury him.

"Eddie," you gasped. "They're beautiful," You told him, your own eyes getting misty.

"Really?" His face lit up.

"Really," you nodded. "Now come here," you beckoned him forwards and pulled him into your arms and the both of you cried into each other's shoulders as he reached a big milestone, knowing that you had his back literally and metaphorically always and forever.

[justjensenanddean]

Full disclosure- this was from 2011 to 2012 (ish) so I dont remember the smaller details of our interactions, but anyway…

I worked at a high end “executive car service”. Basically wealthy business people, agents, sports players, etc. would book us for an SUV or town car to take them to meetings, the airport, whatever. We didn’t have limos or party busses or anything, it was strictly for professionals in a professional setting.

Anyway, I had been talking with Jensen usually twice a week for a good 6+ months. I’d book him trips to the airport in Canada and Malibu? I think that’s where the CA side was. All I really knew was he “traveled a lot for work” and his wife and new baby were at home.

I worked with major assholes, which was to be expected. Attorneys assistants especially. They would get fired if they didn’t use the right colored post-it. That kinda crap. So they understandably were always stressed the hell out, which would get taken out on me. Whatever. That’s all part of the game.

But anytime I answered the phone and it was Jensen, I knew at least for those few minutes my job would actually be enjoyable. He’d always ask about ME. How my day was, what the weather in SoCal was like since he’d be on his way there. Small talk, but always SO damn nice. He’d occasionally mention how he’d miss his family during the longer trips or tell me how it’d be a short stay that particular week so he’d be able to get back home to his baby. SO sweet.

One day months later the owner of “my” company called me to ask about the schedule. Mentioned Jensen was to be picked up the following day and she chuckled and asked, “you know who that is, right?” Uhhh, no? Then she told me he was on tv and was traveling to film every week. Based on how humble, soft spoken, and incredibly nice he was, I figured he was just starting out in the business or was kinda an unknown. That’s when my boss told me he was shooting this huge show, he was really famous, etc etc.

I never woulda guessed it in a million years. With celebrities, we always dealt with their agents. Jensen would always pick up the phone and call me himself. He just seemed like a completely normal, humble guy who didn’t let his fame change who he was.

I worked there for another several months and then moved onto a different company, but damn did I miss “working” with him. I always knew there’d be no drama when he called.

To this day I still haven’t seen him in anything (or even a single episode of Supernatural) but I’ll always hold a soft spot for him just based on the way he treated me. I was relentlessly harassed but he was always so, so kind.

Reddit

Someone who worked for Jensen when he lived in Malibu, shares her experience.

[arlathvhenan]

I know it’s pointless to try and win over the people who decided ten years ago that they hate Solas and he’s the worst despite never taking the time to actually *learn* about the character or understand why he believes what he does. Despite the theme of Dragon Age having always been good people resorting to horrific extremes for what they believe wholeheartedly to be a greater good, even at the expense of all that they once valued, because they truly believe there’s no other way. If you still hate Solas, if you absolutely *cannot* accept that there is good in him, then forget Solas entirely. Put him aside for now, and think about Varric, and what this whole journey means for him.

For all his wit, and cheeky humor, and roll with the punches attitude, Varric has suffered immensely in his life. This will be the third game we spend with him. The third time Varric is being asked to let the ugliness and brutality of the world poison and destroy what he holds dear. It destroyed his culture, his home, his family, and has taken so many of his dearest friends.

His father’s greed saw the Tethras family disgraced and cast out of Orzammar before he’d even been born. They found a new home in Kirkwall, the only home he’s ever known, and tried to rebuild, but the damage was done. Despair drove his mother to alcoholism, and so great was his brother’s desire to undo the damage his father had done, it ate him alive. Varric had to put his brother down like a sick dog with his own two hands. Then watched as ignorance and hatred ravaged his beloved city. And he watched again as his friend—a man he’d come to know for his gentleness and compassion—was driven to self destruction by despair.

But he kept living. Kept going in spite if it all. Then along comes Corypheus, and The Inquisition, and The Venatori. Varric has already been displaced and separated from the people he cares about. Even those who survived Kirkwall can’t be by his side because this sick and wounded world demands everything they have to keep it from falling further apart. But he finds a new home anyway, new friends, and that’s ultimately taken from him, too. If Hawke was left in The Fade, then he’s also had to watch his best friend of ten years become another victim of despair. Of the world’s demand for suffering and sacrifice.

Now here we are with Veilguard. Yet again, he must watch as someone he cares about is crushed under the weight of their own despair. Solas is doing what he’s doing for the same reason Anders did. Or Clarel. Or Logaine. Or so many others. Just like them, his actions are driven by a sense of despair.

I can’t imagine Varric doesn’t look at Solas and see every other person the world has taken from him. All the people he couldn’t save. All the death and failure that weighs on him, because he either couldn’t help them, didn’t know how, or just didn’t make it in time. Again, he’s been asked to just accept things as they are.

“People die. It’s what they do.”

This exchange was more than a grim and fatalistic quip from Solas. It’s Varric’s own words being thrown back at him. That is the very reality Varric himself once told Solas to accept. The man on the island lost everything and everyone, but so what? That’s life. That’s the world. People die and you can’t do anything about it. Except, he can’t do it this time. He can’t just sit back and let the world keep taking and taking. He’s reached the point where it’s just too much. Too much loss. Too many sacrifices. Too many good people eaten alive, spit out as monsters, and discarded as lost causes. This time, he can’t be content to sit in the sun. He’ll save the world AND save his friend.

No more passive acceptance. No more sacrifices. No more broken heroes.

That’s what this one means to him. Hate Solas all you want, but Varric’s not letting him go without a fight, and I feel like that should mean something.

[shaunashoochiebae]

pov: you’re patrick’s.. situation

༄ can’t stop talking for the life of him. you could be trying to sleep, an important exam in the morning and he’d continue talking, “yeah. and then i wasn’t sure what to say, heh, you know? anyway..”

༄ he’s always asking you for favours and you wanna say no and that he still hasn’t payed you back from the last time. but he swears that he’ll pay you back. promise.

༄ flirts back with people in public, purposely in front of you to make you jealous.

༄ one hand always on your thigh

༄ possibly the most annoying person to date but he thinks it’s endearing when he whines and complains to you

༄ not big on compliments. usually only gives them when you’re half naked

༄ talks about you but never uses your name. his friends only know you as the mystery chick

༄ is into arcade dates. he says it’s because he’s a master at air hockey and not because he’s broke

༄ if you’re at the mall, he just staggers along behind you holding your bags

༄ movie theatre dates are tragic for you. if something is remotely funny he’ll burst out laughing and the whole theatre will turn and give him a look

༄ prefers to keep you private “it’s better for me” he says, though he flirts with anything that breathes

༄ his love languages are physical touch and acts of service

sorry these are so short i hate him explodes him with my mind

[whore-ibly-hot]

Hi!❤️❤️

How would Harrison react if reader outright confessed to him and wanted to be in a relationship?

Your writing is really nice btw

-Florida Man

He would be absolutely thrilled, if not a little disappointed only because he wanted to be the one to confess. He had some gran gesture halfway planned out, but maybe he put it off too long.

He's very physical when you confess, but also very cautious. He hides his yandere side better than the other boys, so he doesn't want to overwhelm you with questions. This relationship is all about your comfort. He'll pick you up in a big hug and spin you around, then immediately ask you about sharing his bed, sharing clothes and setting boundaries.

He'd be glad to continue doing the same things he usually does with you, but now under the guise of a date. He's so happy to finally hold you and kiss you, it's enough to make him ignore the stiffy he's gotten. Almost.

You aren't going to be allowed to sleep on your bed on your side of the dorm. You are now permanently glued into his bed. He'll hold you and whisper out sweet things about how happy he is that you're finally dating.

"M' so fuckin' happy..."

"Guess you'll have to wear my jerseys at my games now. Heh, maybe I can wear something of yours for good luck?"

He's determined that since you 'stole' the confession from him, as he so often teases you about, that he's going to be one step ahead from now on. Anniversary? He's got a cozy booth at a local diner all picked out. He likes to keep it thoughtful, and you both used to go there after his games all the time. If your able to get your period, he's all hands on deck. Its... odd he always seems to know your cycle, but he explains it away as just a 'roommate' thing. It's not like he's tracking it or anything.

He'd be more protective, you being the one to ask him out surely means you want all of him, right? He's willing to get more rough with Evan, or report Pez for getting you all high and fuzzy. You'll still love him, won't you?

Since you've agreed to date him, he's thrilled to introduce you to his family, he's always been there golden boy and he wants more than anything for them to like you. The first school break after he met you, when he was back with his parents, he had lots of time to look at family photos and see his parents being domestic. That's when he made up his mind, when he got you to be his, or when you got him, he'd propose not long after. He'd wanted that family life with you, a white picket fence and a home. You practically shared a home anyways, your roommates! He plans to propose quickly, he's not gonna let you beat him to it. Besides, your father wouldn't be thrilled, his schools star athlete dating his only child, it's a match made in heaven.

It's past three in the morning, and Harris9n should be resting, but every moment he goes to close his eyes feels like a moment he wastes, considering he could be looking at your sweet, sleeping form curled up in his big arm. He adjusts his position to let you further press into his chest, and he lets out a shaky sigh as quietly as he can. "Love you..." he whispers. "You're gonna look so pretty on our wedding day, yeah? Dress or suit, I don't care. I think I'd just wanna see you in white." He rambles on throughout the night until you wake up, and his quickly apologizes for talking too much.

[futurepastme]

SecretConsort!merlin

I had this fic idea before falling asleep, I don't know if anything like this already exists (probably). Be warned that I didn't revise this once.

First of all Arthur and Merlin absolutely love each other, but they start off as friends with benefits. Until one day Arthur can't handle anymore

“Say you're mine. Say you'll be mine and no one else's”

“I'll be yours as long as you're also mine”

And yeah, they go exclusive after that (they already were but now was official) and give them a few months or years, but eventually Merlin becomes Arthur's secret consort and they are officially official, mother's sigil and all, because like I said, they Love each other.

Anyways, eventually Uther finds out they are together and he gets tomato-red furious, and only calms down when Arthur agrees to marry for political reasons, whomever Uther chooses for him.

The thing is, Uther kind of learns to like them as a couple, not that they go all out and about telling the world, because is still supposed to be a secret, but Uther sees the sweet glances and the smiles, and most of all he sees how willingly they are to die for each other and it just sits right with him. Uther thinks Merlin makes a good consort for his son and is in no hurry to marry him off anymore.

But of course, nothing really stays the same, and the day comes where the only way Uther finds to keep peace with another kingdom is to marry Arrhur off to some other king's daughter, and he hates it because he knows and he approves of his relationship with the skinny boy that makes his son so happy.

And then comes the heartbreaking scene of Arthur telling Merlin the news and the even more heartbreaking scene before Arthur's wedding day

“I won't be able to be only yours anymore”

“Maybe not, but I'll always be yours”

And they cry through the night holding each other tightly as if the world were to end, because it just might.

And the next day, Uther can freaking see it 

They are both behaving, no one is causing a scene but from up close you can notice how bloodshot their eyes are. And he can see it in the way they refuse to make eye contact, he can see it as he sees Merlin silently crying as Arthur shows the crowd their future queen.

And Uther hates it.

And is not like the new princess is a horrible person but she just doesn't like Merlin, she doesn't want to share her husband. She makes Merlin leave Arthur's Chambers and forbids him to follow Arthur all day unnecessarily, but she knows she can't win.

Not when the King himself gives Merlin royal chambers on the same floor as theirs, and especially not when Arthur doesn't spend the night on his.

Arthur has duties, though. Husband duties. And he has to fulfill them and it kills Merlin.

And Uther can just watch helplessly as Merlin's gaze follows Arthur and his wife and he stays behind as the servant he is supposed to be and is so unfair because she doesn't even love Arthur 

And they keep growing apart but keep fighting for each other because they are fucking made to be together so they still try even if the best they can do for days is hold each other for a few minutes just breathing each other in because that's home and that's where they are meant to be

It continues for a while until one day comes where Arthur goes out without Merlin

And at the same time while he is away, his wife finds herself with child, and everyone's so happy and Merlin just has to leave for a while because he can't handle it

But again, things never go as planned and the knights return with Arthur's body, because something went wrong 

And you can honestly choose what it was, a curse, a spell, bandits, a boar, a mercenary, it doesn't matter because Arthur is dead now and Merlin wasn't there to save him

And now Uther has to deal not only with the death of his only son, and with his widow wife with child but he'll be the one to tell his consort and is so devastating 

Merlin's face turns from sad to haunting and it's like the world ended and Uther can see himself in him, he can see the death of his love weighting on Merlin the way it weighed on him, if not worse

Arthur's body stays inside the castle for two days before the burial so the people of the castle can say their goodbyes and no one has seen Merlin, they are not even sure he went to see Arthur 

And everyone is concerned about the poor widow all dressed in black, she is sad, sure, but the tears rolling from her eyes are just for show, Arthur was barely a friend, but he was good to her

Arthur's body is being prepared for removal, overseen by his family and close friends before the public ceremony took place, and that's when it happens 

Merlin just barges in and stops everything. 

He's spent two days working in it, and he just doesn't care anymore, as long as it works

And Uther once again just watches as this skinny boy fills the room with golden light, and he can't even care to do anything because honestly he would do everything for his love if he could 

And everyone watches as the light coming from Merlin starts being absorbed by Arthur through his chest and is so beautiful to watch

Arthur starts to sit up as Merlin lowers down and they just have a moment, a small second where they are both there and Merlin just rests his head against Arthur's 

“I would do it again. I would do it as many times as needed because I love you and you are my everything”

“Merlin?”

And then the light is gone, and so is Merlin 

And Uther watched as his widowed son holds his lover's body, just like he did over twenty years ago