#but childhood movie binge time!!

[knifegremliin]

tbh it's so funny to me that all but three of the movies on that poll i was literally obsessed with as a kid and watched on repeat. "traumatizing" huh. tell that to little me who burnt through so many tapes AND dvds of the last unicorn because i watched it so much

[lizard-dumbass]

Holy shit i can rewatch SU now omg

[fantasylandloser]

marriage pact

summary: besties that plan to get married

warnings: smut, mdni, dry humping, idrk what else I should put here so message me and lmk, steve's happy trail, slutty steve, big dick steve

pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

A/n: This started off as one thing then it manifested into something else, and this is 4k words of idk and there MIGHT be a part 2

update here is part 2

****

Steve loved your slumber parties that had carried over from your childhood. Initially the two of you would binge watch movies, while his parents were who knows where. Up until you were about twelve he slept in the bed with you until one day your parents decided that he couldn’t do that anymore and gave him his own room for when he stayed over. 

Your family was well off due to your father being in business with his and it was probably no big deal for them, but Steve appreciated it nevertheless. He felt so loved in your home, so he made it his second. He was there at least three nights a week, until the two of you got into highschool and his dad wanted him to get serious about basketball. Then it was late night practices and meeting up with girls. He still came around at least once a week for dinners, but usually he was busy. 

You were surprised when he didn’t go away for college. Even more so when he decided to get his own job and start at the community college in Hawkins instead of living off his parents. Eventually he was back to being at your house all the time, until one day your mom randomly asked him to move in, suggesting that he was there all the time anyway. Which he agreed to with speed. So, now your slumber parties were more frequent, and more fun now that you were adults and your mom took away the rule that Steve couldn’t stay in your room.

Now your slumber parties included the two of you gossiping for hours on end about who was pregnant, talking through movies, and newly you doing Steve’s skincare. At first he tried to pretend that he didn’t like it, until one day you decided you didn’t feel like it and he begged you to do it anyway.

“Close your eyes.” You say from your position on his stomach, your thighs fitting snug on each side of him. One of his hands resting on each one. You didn’t need to be sitting on him of course, but Steve claimed it would be easier on your back if he were laying down (which was not true) but you went along with it because it was Steve.

“So bossy.” He murmurs but closes his eyes nonetheless, his fingers messing with the hem of your shorts. You hum in acknowledgement not really able to focus on the task at hand. 

“Is this new?” Steve asks, referring to the cool goopy substance that you were putting on his face.

“Yeah, I’m testing it on you before I put it on my face.” You say jokingly. But not really, considering that's what you were actually doing.

The snort Steve lets out brings a smile to your face. “Well, I’ve been your test dummy since we were kids so I’m not surprised.” 

“Glad that you finally accepted the dynamic of this friendship. Now stop talking.” He huffs at the command but still listens anyway, a small smile resting on his face,that you could never ask him to wipe away. Your brain short circuits a bit when he pulls his hand back to the center of your thigh, his thumb continuously rubbing over the smooth skin. You couldn’t help but wonder when that got added to the dynamic of your friendship. 

“Now sit with that for ten minutes.” You could see him getting ready to protest so you quickly added, “and be still!” You know he’s gonna bitch about it when you go to take the mask off. He hates sitting still more than anything but he could deal for ten minutes.

When he feels the pressure from your body weight pressing into his stomach start to lighten, his hands finding your waist even with his eyes closed.

“Steve.” You huff, knowing he’s not going to let you move until he can, but it’s not like you actually put up a fight. Not like you actually wanted to be away from his warmth. So you stayed simply sitting on him for ten minutes. Watching him, thinking about how he was still so pretty even with the mask on his face.

When it was time for you to take it off. You almost didn’t want to, but you did , pleased to see that the product left him glowing. 

Steve finally opened his eyes after almost falling asleep when he heard you sigh sweetly. “All done?” He asks hoping that you weren’t even though he’d been laying there for about thirty minutes.  

“Yep.” You say until you remember the little gift you picked up for him at the store. “Wait one more thing.” Steve lets you get off him this time, a little hesitant but you don’t point it out. 

When you come back with what looked like a broken whisk, Steve was a little reluctant. “I think this is where my test dummy days end.” You roll your eyes at his dramatics sliding back to your spot on his stomach.

“You’ll like it.” You tell him. Despite the growing anticipation about whatever the device was, Steve is quick to accept you and it into his space, his hands on your hips to steady you as you sit down. 

“I doubt- fuckkk.” Steve moans raggedly, cutting himself off and surprising you, making you stop your movements with the hair massager. You catch your composure quickly though, continuing to massage his scalp.

“So dramatic.” You try to tease, to lighten the heavy feeling in the pit of your stomach. You knew Steve had a thing for getting his hair pulled. He hooked up with half the girls in your class, so his likes and dislikes tended to get around and made for some pretty interesting lunch room conversations.

You didn’t realize a scalp massage would elicit the same reaction. You also didn’t realize that his reaction would have an effect on you. His whole body seemed to glitch. HIs eyes are barely able to stay open and the grip on your hips tightening.

Once his initial dramatics calmed down, he began letting out soft appreciative sighs. His grip on you fades to soft circles on your thighs.

“I’m gonna marry you.” He tells you, with his eyes closed. You knew he meant it. He told you that he wanted to marry you one day in high school. He’d been drunk but he let you all the way in on his plan to make a life with you, one day when you’re both ready.

He told you how he thought about building a house for you, and having your last name be harrington and how he wanted to have a bunch of kids with you. You thought he’d been joking teasing him about it the next day, but he simply smiled at you with a blush forming on his cheeks telling you that he meant it.

Ever since then, every couple of months he’d say it again. Like he was reminding you, or really asking you to wait for him. Which you did. Neither of you had made much of a move or anything and sometimes one of you would date  someone else, but in the back of your mind you would always remember that you were marrying Steve and that’s just the way it was.

“Mhmm.” You hum, simply acknowledging like usual. To your surprise Steve's eyes open and he zeroes in on your face. 

“I’m serious.” He’d never done this before, made more room for conversation about it. He seemed like he wanted more than gentle acknowledgment.

“I know.” You say, pretending to busy yourself as you set the massager to the side, just to get away from the intense way he’s looking at you. When he sits up on the headboard you know he means business. You never guessed now would be the time you finally actually talked about it.

“Do you really?” He asks. Steve didn’t know if you knew how serious he was.

“Yeah.. we’re getting married.” You tell him, fidgeting with one of his hands in your, absently looking at his nails instead of him. “You’re gonna build me a two story house, two streets away from my moms. In that field we used to play in. And we’re gonna have six babies and I will not let you help me name any of them because I already have a list.” You catch a quick glimpse of his face. “I remember.” You tell him. 

You expect him to let it go now that you’ve rehashed the entire plan he layed out for you years ago. You don’t remember when you got so attached to the idea. Or when you started contributing your own dreams to the plan but it had grown for you and speaking it out loud you realized how badly you needed it to happen.

“You have a list?” Steve’s chest was warm as it dawned on him that you wanted a future with him the same way he did with you.

Your face warmed, embarrassed thinking that he would tease you. “Yes. They’re all non negotiable.”

“Can I see it?” He asks, his voice soft. “Please, honey.” Honey. This is no longer best friend Steve. This is future husband Steve, making his first ever appearance. 

When you shake your head with a shy smile, Steve can’t help but smile back.”Why not?” He asks you in that same soft voice that had you feeling gooey on the inside. 

“Stop using that voice.” You whisper, feeling flushed. Steve couldn’t help but chuckle. He’d never known you to be shy, but here you were being all bossy while hiding your face in his neck. 

“You’re so perfect.” He’s teasing you, trying to see how embarrassed you’ll get. He also means every bit. “Prettiest girl in the world.”

“You’re bein’ weird.” You tell him unsure what to do with yourself with all these changes being made so quickly.  

“It was weird not telling you how beautiful you are everyday.” You don’t expect him to keep listing. “So sweet, too.” He adds. “Always taking care of me and never letting me praise you for it. I can’t wait to take care of you.” The implications of that do not go over your head. “Bet you’ll be such a good little wife.” 

Steve expects you to make some little quip or try to play off how embarrassed you feel. He’s expecting you to descelate how quickly he’s moving. But instead your voice whispers “I hope so.” You’re right in his ear too, so he knows he isn’t mistaken and he knows that this is the last night you’ll ever consider yourself just friends.

*****

Steve should have kissed you last night. He can’t help but think about that over and over, as he realizes he didn’t seal the deal. He should have done something to prove to you how serious he was. 

But it was too late because he didn’t kiss you and the morning had been decidedly awkward when you realized you didn’t know what any of that meant for your immediate friendship. Because initially the plan had been to wait. Was the wait over? Did you want it to be over? You spent the majority of your day trying not to think about it. Steve however wouldn’t shut up about it. Sadly for Robin she had to be on the receiving end of this conversation.

“Robin, this is serious. What if I fucked everything up? What if she thinks I’m leading her on?” Steve runs a hand through his hair, seemingly deep in thought. 

“I doubt that. I mean you’re planning on marrying her- which I take offense to not knowing about this little pact or whatever,” she adds. “But that’s like the total opposite of leading on.” She tries to reassure wanting to really get Steve to shut up about it.

“No you don’t get it-” Steve starts again, only to be interrupted. 

“Ughhhh!! How can I not get it if this is your sixth time going over it? Steve, I get it! You’re overthinking this when it’s really simple.” Robin gestures. “You love her and you want to get married and blah blah blah, but before you guys get married how about you try to, I don’t know actually date?” She says sarcastically. “Unless you were just going to propose after a thousand years of sleepovers and dating other people.” She adds. 

And although it was unnecessarily sassy, Steve realized that Robin might have a point. “So I should ask her out?” He tries to clarify much to Robin’s dismay. Luckily for her the door opening saved her from another round of easily answered questions. And even more lucky for her it was you and not an actual customer.

“Hey what are you-” Steve was cut off by you taking his hand and dragging him to where you knew the break room was after bringing him lunch on multiple occasions. You had tried and failed to not think about this whole situation. 

The one thing that had been bothering you the most is how long it was taking. You realized it was because you let Steve call the shots, and you quickly remembered why you never let Steve call the shots. Steve took too long to make decisions and well you knew what you wanted. So you had always been the leader in your friendship, deciding what movies you’d watch, what games you’d play, the parties you would go to. Everything really. You could do that here too, you realized. 

When you close the door behind you Steve is looking at you expectantly. He’s half thinking that you’re gonna cuss him out, so he doesn’t expect it when you grab him by his shirt to kiss him. You’re all over him for about five seconds. Your scent. Your taste. Your skin. Your hair. Then you’re gone. Patting his shirt back in place, shakily. You’re nervous. Steve realizes. 

“Okay that was all-” Steve’s pulling you back to him before you can run off. Letting his lips capture yours just the way he’d dreamed of. Feeling you relax into him as he cradles your face.

“So sweet.” He murmurs against your lips. He finds it amusing how the words send you back into your shyness from last night. The way you went from determined to timid and unable to even look at him properly. Steve was curious about this side of you. You were never this easily flustered.

“When did you get so shy?” He asks and you know he’s taunting you. He’s still holding you close to him, his fingers messing with the ends of your hair as he tries to find any reason to keep touching you. 

“M’not.” You oppose half-heartedly. He lets out a gentle sound of acknowledgment, obviously ignoring you, and knowing he would press all those buttons later. Privately. 

“You’re so beautiful.” You think he’s still teasing you and you hate that it's working when you feel your face heat up and you’re hiding it in his chest. Steve really means it though, it was the first thought that came to his head when he saw you walking through the door. Your hair free and your face without makeup. A skirt that your mom would deem a few inches too short and a shirt that he’s seen a million times because you love it so much. 

Gathering your courage, you finally look at him. His kiss swollen lips are the first thing that grabs your attention the second is the way he’s looking at you. Like he’s waiting on you to call the next shot. 

“Will Robin be okay, if we go to your car?” The next few moments are a blur because now he’s the one dragging you out of the breakroom, pausing only long enough for Steve to beg Robin to cover for him. Which she agreed to with a poorly concealed smirk on her face.

You were expecting Steve to open the back door and usher you inside. Instead he opens the driver side and pats his lap expectantly, after moving his seat all the way back. When you hesitate he’s grabbing you by your thighs and maneuvering you to where he wants you. “What if someone sees us?” You ask, knowing how fast information like this whipped around town. 

“Nobody parks on this side, honey.” Steve tells you those big puppy dog eyes staring into you. And because he’s Steve, and he’s calling you honey, and you trust him more than anyone you know, you believe him. 

“Okay.” Is all you say before your lips are back on Steve’s. It was a sweet kiss really, and Steve tried to let you control it for a while, until you were trying to back away from him again. With his experienced lips working over yours, you’re so consumed you barely realize the way you’re grinding yourself over his lap. Well not until his hands are on your ass, pushing your skirt up and controlling your once sloppy movement.

“There you go, sweetheart.” He says breathlessly, when he finally comes up for air. His lips find purchase against your neck. He kisses his way up the slope of it, relishing in the sound of your little gasps, until one particular spot sends a shudder down your spine. He sucks that spot. 

Absent-mindedly, your hands find their way off his shoulders and into his hair, barely thinking about it twice before you rake your nails across his scalp softly. The soft hum he lets out gives you indication that you should continue. Your hands stay in his hair for a bit, and you’re too nervous to actually pull it, but it does get you thinking about the other places on his body he has hair. Namely his happy trail. It sat perfectly right in between his abs and you usually had to avoid looking for your own sake. 

You’re yanking his shirt out of his jeans before you give it much more thought. And even though you’re too busy humping Steve to get a good look, feeling it against your bare hands has you whimpering. 

“Stevie-” You’re cut off by your own moan as your clit catches perfectly against Steve’s zipper. It doesn’t get past Steve that you sound so fucked out. Your tone bordering on a whine, clearly frustrated.

“Look at you.” Steve coos. “Doin’ such a good job for me, sweet girl.” Pressing a light kiss to your lips. Steve couldn’t help watching you chase your own pleasure, shivering at his praise.. Your eyes pinched shut, but your hands are all over him like you know every part of his body. 

“Can you open your eyes for me?” He asks with his hands pushing your hair out your face. When you do, he admires how dazed you look. How you probably barely remember your own name. “There she is.” Steve knew he was about two seconds from coming in his pants. He was also aware of the fact that once you were done with him he’d have to go back inside to finish working his shift.

“Stevie” You start again, “M’so close. Feels so good.” You tell him, your movements becoming frantic causing your boobs to sway deliciously. You don’t register your top being pulled down, until you feel Steve licking at your nipple.

A hungry groan rising from the back of his throat. “Perfect fucking tits.” His hands leave your ass, leaving the pace to you. He pinches your right nipple between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it to test your reaction. When you lurch into him. Humping him harder than before, he knows he’s a goner. But you are first. Your orgasm hits you so fast, it surprises you with tears springing to your eyes at the intensity. 

Steve’s a close second behind you, leaving the two of you panting and trying to catch your breath. As soon as Steve recovers he’s tending to you, pulling your top back in place, trying to see how you felt. 

He can’t help but admire that after that you went right back to your embarrassed state, obviously self conscious. “You’re perfect.” He tells you again, pressing another light kiss to your lips. When you grin at him, his heart beats fast and he can’t help but be happy at the line the two of you just crossed. 

“You too.” You say, your head is still a bit fuzzy as you check the damage. You’re about to launch into an apology about the obvious wet spot on Steve jeans but he beats you to it. “Stop worrying.” He’d been watching the spot form as time went on and kept willing it to get bigger. Liked that you were making a mess all over him and yourself too. 

“You have to go back to work.” You state, guiltily. 

“I have an extra pair of pants in the backseat, sweetheart. We’re all good.” You’re relieved for a number of reasons, climbing off him into the passenger seat. You don’t know what you were expecting but you realized it wasn’t him yanking his pants off, revealing his now cum stained gray boxers. And you certainly weren’t expecting him to drag the boxers off as well, which revealed his huge fucking dick. The tip is now sloppy and slightly red, and you can tell it isn’t as hard as it was.

“Oh fuck.” You say barely recognizing your own voice. Only to repeat yourself when he uses his sullied boxers to wipe the rest of the cum off, watching it twitch from the stimulation.

“He doesn’t like to be stared at, ya know.” Steve teases you, reaching back for his jeans. 

Your eyes keep flickering back to his face and back to his dick, and you know there’s no way he’s been carrying that around for the entirety of your friendship and you simply had no idea.

“Steve.” You say dumbfounded. No words available to express your shock, as he pulled his pants on to cover himself.

“No more ‘Stevie’?” He asks, mocking you. The smile on his face tells you he’s just messing with you but you can’t help your cheeks going up in flames.

“You’re the worst.” You huff, but you’re still smiling despite your embarrassment. 

“Mhm.” He’s reaching over the console to kiss you again, this time sweet and chaste. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll stretch you open for me, before I fuck you, sweetheart.” You gasp feeling his hand on the band of your underwear.

“Lift up for me.” You do, allowing him to pull the drenched fabric off of you, you hide your face in your hands when he lifts it to his face to sniff. You were quickly coming to the realization that your best friend was dirtier than you ever realized, even with all the gossip that got back to you.

You feel yourself manage to flush even further when he murmurs to himself “sweetest fucking girl” he stuffing them in his pocket in the next second, then reaching back over for you when his phone lights up. 

Robin’s name lighting up the screen. He huffs a little as he reads the text and you know she’s getting snappy. 

“Come on, let's go before Robin kills you.”  There’s no use in asking for your underwear back so you just pull your skirt down as far as it will go before stepping out the car, trying to ignore the slickness of your thighs. After Steve walks you to your car, he presses a kiss to your forehead, stating that you’ll talk later. 

When he walks back into Family Video he looks disheveled, a completely new pair of pants, his shirt no longer tucked and wrinkled, but Robin is relieved to know that she won’t have to answer anymore stupid questions from him.So she leaves him be for the moment, but he definitely owes her big time. 

[reiding-writing]

HI LOVE UR WORK ESPECIALLY COLD READER IVE BEEN BINGING THEM AND I NEED MOREE

Soo speaking of i think prompt 15 could be a really cute cold reader prompt for something and I WOULD LOVE IT

HOMETOWN [CLIMACTERIC]

/ˌhəʊmˈtaʊn/

15. “I can’t believe you remembered.”

WARNINGS: fem!reader, mentions of spencer’s bullying, made up childhood bully (sorry spence <3), swearing as per, typical cold!reader antics

spencer reid x cold!reader || fluff?? || 3.0k || event masterlist!!

main masterlist!! ⋆｡°✩ cold!reader masterlist!!

a/n: great minds think alike huh? the fact that both these requests specified for it to be cold!reader as well is insane to me 😭😭

There’s that saying that the worst people in school always end up going into jobs that provide for others; The idea that petty school bullies take up careers in hospitality or community service despite all of their obvious social flaws.

Honestly, Spencer always found the idea ridiculous. They had just as much of a chance as going into a hospitality job as they did a 9-5 office job.

Their attitude didn’t have any causational impact on their future career whatsoever, people just focused on the people that did end up in those fields and then generalised it to the larger population with no reasonable backing.

But he’d be lying if that wasn’t the first thing that ran through his head when he walked into station 14 of the LVMPD and ran right into somebody from his middle school.

Somebody who fit that god awful false idea to a T.

“We’ll get you set up asap, Robinson, DeGaris, show the agents to 22B will you?”

Spencer knew the second he turned around. Some people’s faces never really mature through puberty. The bone structure doesn’t change and they just end up looking like a taller version of their child self.

“Would you look at that? Looks like we’ve made it to the big leagues,” Officer DeGaris nudges his partner with a raise of his eyebrows, and Robinson shakes his head with a short laugh in response.

“More like we’re doing such a bad job they had to call in the big leagues,” Robinson pushes DeGaris’ head away with the palm of his hand before clasping his fists together at his waist. “Welcome to Las Vegas, land of casinos, neon signs, and… serial killers apparently— Uh I’m Caleb, this is Will, chances are you’ll see a lot of us over the next however long you’re here,”

“Pleasure,” Hotch holds out his hand to shake the two officers’, who promptly move to shake hands with the rest of the team afterwards.

By the time the two reach you and Spencer stood at the back of the group he feels like he might throw up his heart from how fast it was beating, and he swerves the shakes with all the awkwardness of his usual evasions as he excuses himself to walk ahead of the team.

It was stupid really. It had been almost two decades since what had happened, yet even just being in his proximity was making Spencer sweat like he was a final girl in a horror movie.

“Excuse us,” Your words hold no social grace as you slide past the two officers to follow after Spencer. He wasn’t the best with meeting new people, but he never left the conversation before it could even start. “Reid-”

Although mildly confused, the two officers don’t seem all that disheartened as the two of you disappear into the meeting room, their attention turning back to the rest of your team.

“Well,” Caleb claps his hands together with a politely awkward smile. “We’ll let you guys get settled in, if you need anything at all come and find one of us and we’ll do our best to get it for you,” He gestures between himself and Will stood next to him, gazing half-blankly into the open shutters of the window into the room with furrowed eyebrows at yourself and Spencer like he’s trying to put puzzle pieces together in his mind.

“Thank you officer, we will,” Hotch gives the two a small nod before gesturing the team into the room and leaving the two policemen outside.

—

At least the station had a coffee machine. Spencer’s one saving grace in the fact that he was not only working on a case in his own home city but also in the same town he grew up in, a town with some very familiar faces.

The scent of the caffeinated beverage was enough to bring him back to his right mind a little as it hit the ceramic mug with a burst of steam, and Spencer watched the liquid flow aimlessly as he waited for his drink to be made.

Coffee solved all his problems.

“Hey,”

Most of the time.

With a slow breath and his eyes shut to compose himself, Spencer turned around slowly to greet the voice, hit lips pressed into a straight line as his eyes opened once more, greeted with an all too familiar sight.

“I thought I recognised you Spencer, or sorry, it’s Agent Reid now right?” Will raised an eyebrow slightly, his hands stuffed in his pockets.

There was no real malice behind his tone, no sarcasm or taunting, no twitch in his facial expression that could make Spencer think he was trying to get under his skin. But he did. And it made Spencer feel like a 9 year old all over again.

“It’s uh, Doctor Reid actually,”

Will gives a short laugh and a nod, like Spencer’s title was something he’d expected. “Right, right, of course, so you’re not an FBI Agent then?”

“I am,” Spencer answers shortly, hands wringing together behind his back as he leans against the kitchenette counter. “But the title of Doctor outranks the title of Agent,”

He could see that familiar glint in Will’s eye as he explained the reasoning behind his official title, like he was looking at some puny know-it-all rather than a person of his own age.

“Very impressive,” Will gives him a slow, almost animated nod, and Spencer has never been more grateful for the shrill beeping of an automated coffee machine as he tears his eyes from Will to pick up his mug, cradling it between his to hands.

“Well, it was uh, good— to see you again Billy I’m glad you got where you wanted to go in life—“

“I don’t go by that name anymore,” Will crossed his arms over his chest with a shake of his head, his expression cordial despite the way his fists clenched like the mae had caused physical discomfort to him. “I go by Will now.”

“Right, Will, I should get back to my team now,”

“I’m sure they can wait a few minutes, we should catch up, for old time’s sake,”

—

“Where is Reid?” You exhale exasperatedly, biting your tongue to keep yourself in check as you turn towards Morgan and Emily with a show of your hands.

“Maybe the coffee machine was broken,” Emily shrugs nonchalantly as she sorts through the scene photos, occasionally passing one over the table towards you to hang up on the board.

“As if I needed any more reasons to hate those pieces of shit,” You groan exaggeratedly, dragging your hand down your face.

“Calm down lover, being away from the pretty boy for an extra few minutes won’t kill you,” Morgan rolls his eyes at your attitude with a short laugh, tapping his fingers against the table.

“Oh shut your mouth,” You scoff as you walk down the length of the table, pushing the heel of your hand against Morgan’s temple as you pass him as an extra form of chastisation which he promptly laughs at you for as you leave the room in search of Spencer.

“Oh to be young and in love,” Morgan laughs to himself as he clasps his hands together, leaning his head backwards over the chair to look at Emily with a knowing look.

“$50 on less than a year,” Emily doesn’t even look up at her proposition, and Morgan laughs with a shake of his head.

“Oh no no, they’re playing the long game, it’ll be at least another two,”

“Deal,” Emily holds her right hand out in Morgan’s direction, and he grasps it in his own with a firm shake.

“Deal.”

—

Spencer is still standing by the coffee machine, a steaming mug in his hands. It does not take eight minutes to make a single cup of coffee.

Well it wouldn’t if he wasn’t stood talking to one of the local police officers.

More like the officer was talking at him.

And if the way he was fiddling with the cuff of his sleeve was any indication, he was not enjoying the conversation.

If it weren’t for the harsh fluorescent lighting, the furrow of his eyebrows would be imperceptible from where you were standing, but the way he rolls his ankles and shifts his weight onto the balls of his feet would be noticeable from a mile away even in pitch black darkness.

Time to go and save Spencer Reid from his own social ineptitude. Again.

He doesn’t acknowledge you as you approach despite you clearly being in his eye line, his sole focus on the man in front of him even as you near close enough to be able to hear their conversation.

“…were quite the character weren’t you Pick?”

Spencer purses his lips together uncomfortably at the nickname, and you take the break in the conversation as an invitation to get between the two.

You clear your throat with crossed arms, eyes flickering between the two of them as they turn their attention away from each other and towards you instead.

“You’re needed back in the meeting room,”

Spencer nods at you a little too eagerly, clearly ready to rid himself of his new companion. “Right, good bye Bil- Will, sorry,” He doesn’t make eye contact with the officer as he all but power walks past you to head towards the meeting room, and your eyebrows furrow ever so slightly as your glance wanders from Spencer to the almost smug expression on the officer’s face.

“Is something funny?” Your question is enough to bring Will’s eyes away from watching Spencer scurry off with his tail between his legs and towards you with horribly feigned innocence.

The look in your eyes is less than savoury, and it’s enough that small glimpse of condescension simmers in his irises to break through his pleasant facade.

You don’t stick around to have to speak to him any further, and with a final look over you leave him by the coffee machine to rejoin the team in the meeting room.

—

“You can’t avoid him forever you know,”

Your voice stirs Spencer out of his focus, and he straightens himself up in his chair as he looks at you, an eyebrow raised in confusion.

You hadn’t really said anything since you re-entered the meeting room, not even bothering to defend yourself against Morgan’s musings about how much you were complaining about Spencer not being present to help you with the profiles, yet less than a minute after Morgan and Emily left, your conversational battery had suddenly returned.

“I— What do you mean?”

“Officer DeGaris,”

Spencer looks at you like you’ve read his diary without his permission.

He forgets just how observant you are sometimes, how easy it seems to be for you to distinguish between Spencer’s general dislike for small talk and meeting new people and when his discomfort is specifically aimed.

You look through the meeting room’s glass window with roaming eyes, Spencer presumes it’s to find the Officer in question. “He acts like a glorified man-child so I can’t blame you for resenting him,”

“Did he say something to you?” He sounds almost afraid at the idea that Will might’ve said something distasteful to you, his face scrunching up in concern, but you dispel the thought with a quick shake of your head.

“No, he didn’t say anything to me,” Spencer can physically see the moment that your eyes catch on Will across the station in the way that your micro expressions change, the way your arms cross tighter over your chest and your nostrils flare. “He was more than distasteful to you though,”

You sigh in mild frustration. “You’d think that people would mature once they reach adulthood, but there’s always a few that cling to their childhood relevancy like their life depends on it. Pathetic really,”

he doesn’t know whether he should even be entitled to being surprised that you knew Will was character from his childhood. It doesn’t stop him. “I never said I knew him when I was a child,”

“He called you Pick, and you called him Billy,” You deadpan like it’s obvious. “You’re not exactly hiding it,”

“I can’t believe you remembered that,” You can see the genuine befuddlement in Spencer’s expression as you relay the cluing details into his past, like he seemingly can’t comprehend that you were actually paying attention and storing Spencer’s divulgence into his childhood in your memories.

“Believe it or not Reid, I do actually listen,” You sound almost offended at how surprised Spencer seems, and he back tracks immediately with a surrendering wave of his hands.

“That’s not— I didn’t mean to insinuate that, I just meant—” Spencer sighs exasperatedly at his failure to string together a coherent sentence. “I only mentioned it offhandedly is all, it’s not something people usually dwell on,”

“It’s not difficult to listen when someone confides in you Reid, it’s basic human compassion,” You move away from the window with a start, stopping just shy of the door right as it opens.

“Can we help you?” The small amount of empathy in your tone vanishes immediately as you meet Will’s eyes, your head cocked in obvious impatience despite the fact that he hasn’t even spoken a word to you yet.

And although mildly deterred by your expression, he follows through nonetheless. “I need to speak to— Agent Reid, it’s something about the case.”

You’d wager it’s definitely not about the case.

“Doctor Reid is busy, if you have something important go and find SSA Hotchner,”

Spencer can’t see your expression as you stand with your back to him, but if he had to make a guess based off of the way that Will’s face falters he’d say you were probably glaring at him. That signature glare that you never hesitated to utilise when deemed a necessary reaction.

He’s half glad he can’t see your face, because it means that you can’t see his, and the way his cheeks redden against his will at not only your intervention between him having to have another conversation with one of the nightmares of his childhood, but also how casual you were in correcting his use of Spencer’s official title.

“I can’t find SSA Hotchner,” He responds like he’s got you beat, but you barely so much as acknowledge it at all.

“Email him then, your chief supervisor has the details.” You take a small step forward to motivate him to step backwards out of the doorway, and you uncross your arms only to grasp the edge of the door. “Now if you’d please excuse us, we do our best work without distractions.”

You don’t give him time to reply before you close on him, but there’s just enough time for Spencer to see the astonishment dawn on Will’s face at your dismissal before he’s shut out completely.

Your frustration is still present on your face as you turn to walk back over to the whiteboard, and Spencer presses his lips together in an awkwardly endearing fashion before muttering out a soft “thank you,” in your direction.

“I don’t tolerate bullies Reid, it’s nothing to be thankful for,” You shake your head to dismiss him, a much lighter—much friendlier— dismissal than you’d awarded Will.

”You didn’t have to do that though,” Spencer sighs softly, playing with the sleeves of his sweater. “Let me buy you a coffee at least? There’s a cafe a few minutes away from here that I used to go to when I was younger, and I think I need the break,”

You can’t really blame his sudden want for fresh air, and you’d rather not slave away on the profile without him to filter your thoughts through, so you don’t really have much option but to join him.

“It’s not one of those ridiculously expensive coffee places is it?” You raise your eyebrow at him warningly and Spencer shakes his head with a soft laugh, one your happy to hear as a sign that Will hadn’t knocked him off his game too much.

“No no, last time I was here it was $3.49 a cup, perfectly normal,” He brushes a strand of hair from his eye with a small smile. “So you’ll join me?”

You let out a small exhale and a shrug of your shoulders, and Spencer knows that you’re feigning more begrudgement than you’re feeling. “I guess I could do with a break,”

Spencer’s smile seems to get just that little bit brighter at your response.

“But I’m buying my own coffee.”

“Okay—” Spencer gives you a small nod, joined by a laugh, and you wait until he’s got his back to you before letting a small smile invade your mouth at the sight.

[simplyhughes]

If you’re taking requests, can I get a Hughes brother (I don’t care which one) childhood friend to lovers fluff?

Lake House

The summer when y/n and Luke have given into their feelings (*^ω^*)

WC: 1743

Anon thank you so much for this request! It was a lot of fun!!!

Pairing: LH43 x Reader

Warnings: None (?) just fluffy fluff. There may be grammatical errors, my apologies!!

Stars decorated the sky, painting patterns across the earth. Crickets chirped softly while teasing banter and laughter mingled with the gentle melodies of the top hits radio, enveloping the outdoor patio of the Hughes’ lake house. You and your family had made their way to Michigan every summer, staying with the friends you call family. Your mother and Mrs. Hughes, who insists you call her Ellen, shared a college dorm, and the rest is history.

The two families gathered around a lit fire sharing stories from throughout the year, making up for the time spent apart. You stepped out onto the porch after using the restroom to see that all the folding chairs and loveseats had been filled. You gave a tug to your sweatshirt sleeve, scanning the seating situation to decide your next move. The youngest of the Hughes brothers, Luke, glanced your way, initiating eye contact.

Being the same age as Luke created a unique bond between you, distinct from your relationships with his two older brothers. When Quinn and Jack would sneak out to meet with some girls by the dock, it would be you and Luke in your makeshift fort binging movies. Or when everyone would pile onto the boat to go wake surfing, Luke would stay behind cause he knows you get seasick. It was the stuff like that growing up that made you two so close. Your mothers would gush behind your backs, betting on your future together on who would confess first. But you two were young and oblivious, just living in the moment, cherishing all the time you could be together before summer came to an end.

As your eyes met Luke's, his demeanor changed; his eyes softened but his body tensed. He raised his hand, tapping his leg, signaling you to come and sit with him. For some reason, you were slightly taken aback. It is not like you haven't shared a seat before… you guys used to have sleepovers and share a bed. But it may be the fact that you both are all grown up and that Luke got a whole hell of a lot more handsome. You mouthed “Are you sure?” over to the boy, and he just replied with a nod. The conversations around you continued as you walked across the wooden patio.

"Hey..." you began, glancing down at Luke. His gaze rose to meet yours, and a grin spread across his face as he wrapped one of his large hands around your waist, almost pulling you onto his lap. You followed his lead and took a seat. His arm then encircled your waist completely, and he rested his head on your shoulder. Your body initially tensed at the sudden display of affection, but soon you relaxed against his chest as the two of you eased into a casual conversation.

Luke's older brothers didn't miss his bold actions. Quinn nudged Jack in the side and discreetly pointed in your direction. Jack stifled a laugh followed by a playful jab to the gut by his older brother. “Who knew Lukey had game?” Jack joked with a stupid smirk. Quinn merely shrugged, signaling Jack to halt his teasing before you and Luke caught on.

Throughout the rest of the summer, Luke's gestures did not simmer down. Anyone who didn't know the pair would think they were a couple. Whenever you were together, one of you was always hanging on to the other, like a support beam. If one of you headed to get food, the other promptly followed suit. And if one of you emerged from the lake sopping wet, the other immediately wrapped them in a warm towel. Luke's actions weren't entirely surprising to you. Longing touches, tight embraces, the gentle tucking of hair behind your ear—all felt like natural extensions of your friendship. But both your mothers saw. They saw the subtle dance of affection that whispered of deeper feelings. It was in the lingering gazes, the softness of their voices when speaking to each other, and the way their laughter seemed to harmonize effortlessly. Luke's brothers could see it. They could see the unspoken attraction between you, clear as day. Deep down you knew it, Luke too. Yet both of you could not rattle the idea that the other didn't reciprocate.

The boat ripped through the water under the control of Jack. “Jack ease up man! You're gonna kill us all,” Quinn yelped. Luke, who sat lazily right next to you, just chuckled at their antics. You looked a little pale in the face.

“Hey… You okay y/n?” Luke questioned, dragging his hand through his damp curls.

“Does he not know how to drive this thing?” You complained sluggishly.

“Awh is someone feeling a little seasick?” He teased. “Jack slow down you asshat or let Huggy take over!” He shouted over to the two boys who still happened to be fussing at the wheel.

“C’mere…” Luke slung his arm around your shoulder and you instinctively rested your head against his.

Jack shuffled out of the driver's seat annoyed. He shot a glance over in your and Luke's direction.

“Oh my god, can you guys just kiss and get this over with already… Jesus,” Jack mumbled, letting out his frustration. The color returned to your face as Quinn took over, but the pale was replaced with an embarrassing red. You hid your face in Luke's chest trying to ignore Jack's words.

“Fuck off, Jack,” Luke retorted. “You're such a dick.”

The sun had set and the boat pulled into the dock. The sky was all different hues of pinks, yellows, oranges, and reds. Jack had rushed off the boat to meet up with this ‘rocket’ he was talking to leaving you, Luke, and Quinn. “Don't worry Huggy we can clean this up,” Luke said, gesturing to the empty beer cans, towels, and sunscreen that littered the boat. “You sure?” Quinn hummed. You could tell he was tired; I guess it is hard work being the boat's captain. Luke nodded back at his eldest brother while you let out a groan. The boat bobbed as Quinn stepped off. You shuffled across the boat's floor, grabbing a trash bag. Luke tossed the empty cans into the bag that you held open. “Maybe you picked the wrong sport, Lukey,” you joked as he threw another can in, mimicking a basketball toss. Your teamwork was pretty effective, only taking 15 minutes to get the boat back in good shape. Luke hopped off the boat onto the dock. His hand extended to grab yours.

“M’lady,” He snorted, taking a bow, helping you off the boat.

You hit him with your hips. “Dork,” you rebutted.

As the colors of the sunset faded into the velvety embrace of the night sky, you and Luke found yourselves on the dock, your feet dangling over the edge. The only sounds were the gentle whispers of the wind through the trees that seemed to be as tall as skyscrapers, the crickets that chirped into the early hours of the morning, and the crashing of water as it rolled into the muddy lakeside shore.

Luke let out a soft sigh, his gaze fixed on you with a look that made your heart flutter. You tried to keep your composure, your eyes focused straight ahead. But you simply could not help yourself any longer.

"What are you looking at, Hughes?" you quipped, breaking the silence.

"You," he replied simply, his voice barely above a whisper.

You turned to face him, your breath catching in your throat as his hand gently brushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His touch sent shivers down your spine, igniting a warmth deep within you.

"Me?" you echoed, unable to tear your gaze away from his.

"Only you," he murmured, inching closer until there was barely any space between you.

He took his hand, guiding a piece of your fallen hair behind your ear. His hand then stayed resting on your cheek. Placing your hand on top of his you spoke, "Luke…".

“Can I kiss you y/n?” he interrupted.

Your eyes dilated, still staring back at his. Your throat went dry, parched by the sudden rush of adrenaline, while your heart pounded against your ribcage, drowning out all other sounds. The only thing you could do was nod. He brought his face close an inch away from yours. His hot breath whispered against your cheek. Time stretched, suspended in a haze of anticipation before his lips finally met yours. His unoccupied hand quickly found a new place to reside, resting on your hip, pulling you in as close as possible. Your lips parted, both in search of air. That single kiss was not enough for Luke. He dove back in, pressing kisses to the side of your neck, trailing behind your ear, with his hair tickling your jaw. The new sensation made you gasp, locking your fingers into his hair. “Luke…” you groaned.

Eventually, the heat had worn down, leaving both parties in shock at the events that had just occurred.

“Y/n…” Luke started, “I have liked you- wait no…” he stopped himself. “I have loved you for the longest time. At the end of every summer, my stomach twists itself in a knot. I dread leaving the lake, I dread leaving summer behind, but I dread leaving you the most. I am not sure how I have been able to get myself through the long winters and the busy fall. It may be the lingering thought that I will eventually make my way back to you. You are my best friend, you always have been and you always will be. I don't wanna screw this up, and if you don't like me back we can pretend this never even happened…” he rambled.

“Luke.” You cut him off.

“Yeah?” He quickly replied, turning his eyes onto you.

“We literally just made out you idiot… I would hope I like you back.” His chest sank back in relief with an exhale. “I cannot picture my life without you.” You added with a more serious tone. “We have grown up together and I expect to grow old with you.” Luke didn't reply with words. He pulled you back into a deep kiss.

The sun had officially set, leaving a blanket of twinkling lights. The young couple spent the night together in the wake of new romantic revelations. This was the night where their friendship had blossomed into something more.

[trashhstarr]

★ zero day hcs ★

andre watches those guns & ammo programs that air on cable television

cal ALWAYS gets to choose the music when he rides in the passenger seat of andre’s car- it’ll usually be like stp, pearl jam, nin, silverchair- the typical 90s bands

they went to one of those sleep away camps every summer from like 4th-8th grade; andre CLAIMED he hated it, but he got so into capture the flag it’s not even funny

cal can’t cook or bake for the life of him

cal’s family 100% forces him to attend church almost every sunday, but he gets out of it by just sneaking out to andre’s at like 5am so they can’t come get him

they sit in the basement and just binge weird movies. probably drinking and having those late night conversations that get a little weird

ANDRE IS A SLEEP FIGHTER!!!!! cal has to push him back atp

if rachel makes any form of plans with cal, andre tries to make plans with him too to mess theirs up. overprotective friend!!

cal has a birthmark like on his back or somewhere that he hides

andre has holes in his walls from where he gets mad and punches them (twin)

cal and his dad listen to pink floyd by the fire when they camp (sobbing)

cal never got rid of his childhood stuffed animal or blanket

fav ice cream flavors; cal = strawberry, andre = some weird shit like pistachio or coffee, rachel= salted caramel, cal’s siblings = bubblegum 😭

chris always has a new girl over every time andre goes over to his place

cal hoards knick knacks in his room; his shelves are filled with cds, little action figures, excess ammo, probably random clay projects from school art class

andre on the other hand has ocd (genuinely) and keeps everything super neat. gets mad if anyone messes up his room, but just learns to tolerate it and fix it later if cal messes something up

andre can throw football, CAL ABSOLUTELY CANNOT

rachel has a red vw beetle!!! SHE GIVES PEOPLE RIDES IN ITTT and it’s the cutest car ever

cal watches cartoons with his siblings, but tries to sneak beavis and butthead on since it looks like a cartoon (he fails)

[comicwritesstuff]

okay this is so incredibly specific so please feel free to ignore BUT i’ve been wanting to read a fic for ages where the reader is Chase’s childhood best friend from Australia and she moves to New Jersey for a fresh start. She’s staying with Chase while she gets settled, and one day she comes to visit him at lunch at the hospital, where she ends up meeting House and he’s… intrigued by her 👀 either romantic or smut would be so very cool :^D <33 💐

YES. I LOVE THIS PROMPT IM SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG BUT IM FINISHED!!!

Gregory House x Fem!Chases bsf!Reader

Warnings: None really, just cussing and tooth rotting fluff >:) 3k+ words.

Chase's POV: 

“Well I was just wondering if we could go out sometime, I think you're really-” My attention shifted as y/n's call lit up my phone, interrupting the conversation. It was a more pressing matter than pursuing a one-night stand.

“Excuse me for a moment.” I say walking away, the woman having an annoyed look on her face. 

I answer the phone.

“Hello, y/n? Whats up” 

“Chase! Long time no talk haha.”

“You called me yesterday.”

“Learn to take a joke, anyways, I have some exciting news for you.”

“I’m moving to New Jersey!!” 

“Wait what? Really?”

“Yeah, I kinda forgot to tell you and i'm actually at the airport right now, so I hope you aren't busy tomorrow so you can pick me up.”

“Wow, um alright, yeah I can pick you up, do you have a place to stay?"

“Um…no…” I sigh, “Just stay at mine for now.”

“Don't even with the sigh i’ve known you my whole life you can put the nightly hookups on hold for your best friend.” 

I smirk and shake my head, “Yeah yeah, I’ll see ya tomorrow y/n” 

Y/N’s POV:

I smile as I hang up with Chase, grabbing my luggage and pulling it along the airport. Ahh yes, crying babies, rushed parents, annoying couples and that one insanely attractive person you see for a split second, I love the airport. 

Glancing at my ticket I realize I might have to hurry to make it to the gate, speed walking I see a text from chase, “Have a safe flight.” Let's hope so. 

Time skip (to lazy to write all the details about fucking airports)

Relaxing on a 21-hour flight proved challenging, especially with a toddler nearby. It was unclear whether the toddler would be a source of annoyance or just be tolerable. The flight just started. So to entertain myself I decide to do some digging about Chase's job, he brags about it all the time and the infamous Dr Gregory House. To be honest I thought Chase was gay for a little while with how much he talks about him. Still speculating. 

The plane lifts off and I start my look, at first just looking up Gregory House, a surprising amount of things show up. An article titled, “Gregory House, Talented Doctor? Or a lying Narcissist?” Oh well that's a good first impression.   

Scrolling down I see another article, “The world's greatest doctor, and his deepest secrets” 

Now that's enticing. I click on it only to find out his deepest secrets, including using 3 in one shampoo and how his leg got hurt. I guess people hardly know anything about him. I click on the photos of him, there's only a couple, most of them blurry but to be honest he's pretty good looking from the photos I can see. I’d honestly be gay for him if I was Chase. 

The toddler next to me starts giggling, I glance at her and notice her staring at a picture of House. She's kicking her feet too. That's so relatable. 

For the rest of the flight I find some stuff about this guy named Taub, who somehow also figured out that he cheated on his wife which is why he had to quit. How did I find that out? I took a coding class in 8th grade. (I got lucky) 

Lisa Cuddy the Dean of Medicine, unfortunately only good stuff about her, boring. 

Remy Hadley, oddly, can't find anything on her. 

Eric Foreman, his brothers in jail, fun. 

And the others are just as boring. For the remainder of the flight, the toddler proved surprisingly chill. I passed the time by binge-watching random movies I had downloaded earlier

*Another time skip to plane landing* 

Finally, 21 hours on a fucking plane is horrible. 

I check my phone after I take it off airplane mode, seeing a text from chase a couple minutes ago. 

“I’m at the airport, is your flight done?”

“Yep, wya.”

“I’m parked in the front.”

“That's specific” 

“There's no other front dumbass”

I roll my eyes at his text, and get off the plane as soon as I can. I walk out and see Chase standing outside his car waiting for me. His eyes light up as he spots me, and a grin spreads across his face. Unable to resist, I rush forward and envelop him in a bear hug.

“Man you’re a lot uglier in person” 

I say jokingly, smirking.

“Oh shut up”  

We climbed into his car, and he drove us back to his apartment. When we arrive he helps get my crap into the house, before he gets a call saying he had to head to work. 

Eventually a week or two passes, I've gotten more comfortable in his apartment, applied for a bunch of jobs, and looked for places to stay so I’m not invading his “man” space anymore. Unfortunately there aren't a lot of options, and no jobs have replied to my applications, which is weird since im overqualified, it's almost like they aren’t even getting my applications in the first place. 

I’m doing the dishes when I get a text from Chase.

“Hey, I left my wallet on the counter, so I don’t have money for food, could ya bring it for me?” 

“Nah”

“See you soon”

I breathe out a laugh and grab his wallet, putting a coat on then driving to the hospital. 

When I get there I walk in, looking around before I call Chase, “Where do I go this place is huge” I can hear talking in the background, actually more like arguing. “Uhm just wait at the entrance i’ll be right there.” He says in a whisper.

He hangs up so I just stand there awkwardly waiting, that was a weird ass phone call. To be fair Chase is a weird ass guy with weird ass coworkers so what do I expect at this point. 

Before I see Chase I see Dr Gregory House, limping quickly towards me. And damn he’s even hotter in person than the pictures I saw of him. 

“Hey, no time to explain, you need to come with me.” He grabs my arm dragging me into the elevator. Before it closes I see Chase come out of the stairway, he sprints towards the elevator but it closes. I hear him trying to say something, but it's muffled and I can’t understand it. Wait why the fuck did I even follow House? 

“You're real compliant, you’d make a great hooker.” 

I turn around and side eye him.

“Thanks, so would you.” I say giving a fake smile. 

“Speaking of compliant, why did you drag me away from Chase? What's going on?’’

“I made a bet with Chase.”

“That's really specific and helpful thanks” 

“Oh yeah no problem” 

Sarcastic asshole. 

“If you don’t tell me, I'll stop following you and go with Chase.” 

He rolls his eyes.

“Fine, Mom! The bet is that I can convince you to work as my assistant here.”

“Really? That's it? I need a job. Why would Chase even bet against that?” 

“He thinks you’ll fall in love with me so he doesn’t want that to happen, in his words, “She has a thing for homeless looking, narcissistic assholes with beards.” So he’s trying to prevent it, and he’s sure he can.”  

Damn- I feel so called out. I stay silent before nodding.

“Well to be honest he isn’t wrong.” 

I see House smirk before we get out of the elevator, he hobbles and leads me to his office, locking the door then having me sit down. 

As I sit down in front of his desk, he grabs a ball and starts throwing it against the wall, while sitting down. 

“So are you gonna interview me or something?” 

“Yeah, I’m just waiting for Chase to get back up here so he can watch me interview you.” 

He really is an asshole…it's kinda hot though. 

“Fair enough.” 

We wait a bit before Chase comes jogging up to the door, out of breath, he’s clearly been running plenty. He starts banging on the glass door that House previously locked.

“House!! Y/N! Let me in! This isn’t fair!” He exclaims, House is grinning when he leans over his desk, crossing his arms.

“Okay! Let’s start this interview now.” 

“Y/n! You traitor!” 

Did I abandon my childhood best friend for some disabled doctor? No, I did it for the job. At least that's what I'm telling myself.   

Turning my attention back to House instead of the Australian cry baby outside the door, he asks me, “First question, do you want the job of being my assistant?” 

“Obviously”

“Great! You have the job!” 

I mean, easy enough. I smile and shake my head. This hospital really has some unique people. 

House shakes my hand, grinning as Chase is sitting on the floor defeated outside. 

As the days turned into weeks at Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, I got to know everyone. Cuddy had to actually approve of me working as House’s assistant first, but once she saw a…normal enough individual, she welcomed me into the environment.

Getting to know House better, I found myself drawn to him in ways I hadn’t really expected. The bet between House and Chase, Chase thinking I would fall for House, I took it as a joke, until that joke turned more into reality. 

Despite House being a narcissistic piece of shit, there were small moments that I saw, or shared with him that made me fall for him. Ones where he seemed happy, or just easy to be around. At work he's serious but when Wilson dragged him out to bars, or other social environments, he could actually be fun. And though him being a dick is undeniably attractive sometimes, when he was…”himself” that's how I began to fall for him.  

One day, after an especially tough day for the team, and being forced to go break into houses and get coffee and food, I found myself alone with House in his office. The rest of the team had left, leaving us in a rare moment alone with each other. As I glanced up from the medical chart of the most recent patient, I caught House’s gaze lingering on me, his blue eyes intense and unreadable. 

“Something on your mind, House?” I asked, attempting to break the awkward silence between us. 

He smirked, leaning back in his chair with a casual ease, “Oh just wondering why a catch like yourself doesn’t have a boyfriend, or husband?” He responds, his tone laced with flirtatiousness.

I couldn’t help but chuckle at his response, a faint blush on my cheeks. House and I had gained an uncanny camaraderie, made from me running around doing everyone's paperwork, being the designated “you get to tell patients they are dying!!” person. And as you’d expect people didn’t respect me a lot, but if someone was blatantly mean to me, House would step in and destroy their self esteem in a second and walk away like it meant nothing. That's another thing that I think made me fall for him. 

“Believe me, I’ve been asking myself that a lot too.” I smile, placing the medical chart on his desk. 

“Do you want a boyfriend? Or girlfriend, or a pet or something.” He quips, his eyes looking like they are reading me, studying my every movement and reaction to what he’s saying, it's flattering and uncomfortable at the same time. 

“A boyfriend would be nice.” I say reassuringly, a laugh escaping me as I shake my head in amusement.

“Alright let's say *hypothetically* I asked you out. *hypothetically* what would your response be?” 

Raising an eyebrow I ask, “Are you trying to go on a date with me?”

“I said hypothetically, now answer the question.” 

A smirk plays on my lips as I roll my eyes in a mock annoyance. 

“Well.” I say, “Hypothetically, I would say yes.” 

“Great, meet me for dinner at (some random fancy place idk u make up a name i'm too lazy to), wear something cute.” 

 With that, he sauntered out of the office, leaving me to think about what just happened. Glancing at the clock, I realized I had just enough time to get ready for our “hypothetical date.” 

The anticipation bubbled within me, standing outside (IDK A RESTAURANT NAME IT), waiting for House to arrive. My heart raced with nervous excitement, unsure what to expect from a…unique…guy like House. I had used all the time I had to work on my outfit, settling for a simple dress (or suit, or just anything you're comfy in :) ). 

As I scanned the busy street, searching for any sign of House, I heard the obnoxiously loud sound of a motorcycle approaching. House rode in, parking his bike before getting off and walking (limping) towards me. My breath caught in my throat as I saw him, he looked impossibly handsome, in a tailored suit that made his rugged charm come out, good god he looked fine. 

“Y/n,” he greeted with a warm smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners in genuine affection. “That outfit makes your ass look nice.” 

I scoff playfully, hitting his arm. “So much for acting like a gentleman, at least you look like one.” 

He chuckled, offering me his arm in a more gentlemanly gesture. “Yeah yeah, shall we?” 

With a nod, I looped my arm through his, savoring the warmth of his touch as we mad our way into the restaurant. The ambiance was elegant and inviting, with a soft candlelight casting a warm glow over the decor. 

As we were seated at a table in a quiet corner of the restaurant, I couldn’t help but feel a flutter of excitement in my chest. I’m finally going out with House, damn Chase was totally right. 

Throughout the evening, our conversation flowed surprisingly easily between us. I had half expected him to be rude or stuck up, but he seemed actually interested in me, in my life. He was asking questions, laughing and joking with me. Sharing stories of his own, and treating me like an actual human. Honestly it was scaring me a bit, but it was making me fall harder for him. 

House raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes. ‘So, tell my Y/N. What’s the most embarrassing thing that's happened to you?” 

I laughed, shaking my head as I thought about the memory. “Well, there was this one time in college-” 

“Let me guess,” House interrupted, a smirk playing on his lips. “It involved copious amounts of alcohol and very questionable decisions?” 

I chuckle and nod in agreement. “You could say that. Long story short, I ended up streaking through the campus fountain at three in the morning. I'm pretty sure Chase might still have a video of it still.”

House raises an eyebrow, an amused laugh coming from him. “I wish I could say I was surprised, oh and also. I am finding that video.” He states, with a determined and mischievous grin. 

The dinner continues and our connection just seems to get stronger, fueled by shared laughter, stories of shit Wilson and him did in college, things Chase and I did in highschool. With each passing moment, I found myself more and more under House’s spell, captivated by the complexity of himself, his character. His gaze, laughter, even his personality. Maybe it was the wine or something, but House was being nice, he had charisma, and was being attractive in general.  

I don’t even realize that we’ve spent almost three hours in the restaurant just talking. I check my phone seeing that it's 9:30 already. We had got and paid the check awhile ago, but had stayed to talk longer. The restaurant closes at 10, and I felt a sudden pang of disappointment that our date was close to being over with. I didn’t want it to end, I was savoring this moment I was having, this seemingly perfect night. 

When the waiter arrived to take our dessert order, I couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment that the evening was drawing to a close. I wasn't ready for it to end—I wanted to savor every moment, to prolong the magic of our time together for as long as possible.

House notices my look of disappointment, “I’m aware how amazing I am, but if its up to me, this won’t be our last date.” 

A smile tugs at the corners of my mouth, my cheeks heating up as I blush. The butterflies in my stomach going absolutely insane. 

So with a quick glance around the restaurant, I rose from my seat, House grabbed my hand as he led me towards the exit. 

Stepping out into the cool night air, I felt a sense of happiness coursing through me. This was it, the beginning of a new relationship, a surprisingly healthy one so far. 

As House’s hand tightened around mine, his touch sent sparks of electricity coursing through my veins. I knew now that maybe Chase knows me better than I know myself, in all fairness he predicted this, but right now I wasn’t afraid to admit this, to admit the undeniable attraction that I had towards Dr Gregory House. 

His touch leaves mine, his hand pulling as we stand in front of the restaurant, close to each other, staring in each other's eyes. I glance at his lips before leaning in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, not sure if he expected it, but I pull back.

“Goodnight House. I’ll see you tomorrow.” And with that I walk away, to my car. When I get in my car, I look in the mirror, seeing House standing there with a lovestruck grin, one a child would have over some school crush. But it was cute, he was cute. And this was just the beginning of an annoyingly predicated relationship with a Vicodin addicted, asshole, who I suspect has a soft spot for me.

[katsukikitten]

Second eldest brother Sukuna keeps his eyes glued on you and you and your bestie Yuuji giggle over marathons late into the night, between binging a horror series or a rom com anime it didn't matter the two of you were glued to one another.

Inseparably but not in something that's romantic, no awkward lingering touches or glances, just tangled legs and laughter. Exchanged punches and occasionally wrestling over the remote to choose what to watch.

But most of the time it was a shared blanket, a shared, giant, bowl of popcorn and you each had your own sweet. Speculating what would happen in a series you've just stated, you're always right and Yuuji is always wrong, it's been this way since childhood. First forced to come over as a play date since you were close in age, you a year older or two than Yuuji and closer to Sukuna's. Until the friend group tripled in size through the school years and in college Yuuji would bring his pretty girlfriend, and you would bring your friend that fell for Choso. All of you pressed into the couch or love seat, crowding the TV as you and Yuuji argue over the best movie for the evening, in the end leaving it up to a violent game of rock, paper, scissors to decide. It was all so sickeningly warm and sweet.

Sanguine.

And yet still Sukuna stays on the steps, hiding in the shadows as he often does with unblinking eyes that stay fixated on you. You who feels the weight of his gaze, you who never fails to glare up at him with such sharp eyes they could slice through his skin. Normally he scoffs or smirks, normally he pushes from the wall to slip beside you to annoy you or to return to his room, either way unbothered.

But tonight your eyes cut him to his very soul and he isn't sure why.

[i-write-boop-spoops]

Guzma Fluff Alphabet

first piece of the year ignore that it's feb

thanks for the anon who requested this! gn! reader, some mild angst and insecurity. not proofread lol

Enjoy!

A = Activities (what do they like to do with their s/o? how do they spend their free time?)

He LOVES a lazy morning together, just snuggling and goofing off in bed, drifting in-and-out of sleep in each other’s arms. He loves to make you laugh and fluster by blowing raspberries on your tummy or kissing your neck. Your slightly raspy voice and bleary eyes and bedhead… it’s just his favourite image in the world

He’s also a capital G Ganer (well actually he just plays whatever the Pokémon world’s equivalent to CoD is) so he likes playing with you or just having you watch him play how riveting. Of course, he’s up for playing sone of the games you like, your Pokémon Crossing island is so cute!!

Guzma is a bit of a homebody when it comes to hanging out with his boo, so things like just snuggling together while you binge a show or movie, or while you show each other asinine Tiktoks, are totally up his alley. It’s just a no-pressure way of spending time with you.

Also, living on the beautiful Ula’Ula island, you visit the beach ALL the time (plus it’s free!)

B = Beauty (what do they admire about their s/o? what do they think is beautiful about them?)

You are just so… kind. So kind. Not just to him, but to everyone. He’s the big bad bug man, a bully, a (reformed) petty criminal and yet you treat him so well. You’re kind to his scary bug Pokémon too, kind to the grunts. You’re just a wonderful person, too pure for this world.

Plus, you’re cute as fuck AND you got a nice booty. The total package.

C = Comfort (how do they help their s/o when they feel down? what makes them feel better?)

Guzma…. he’s not great with words. He really doesn’t know what to say when you’re not feeling great, doesn’t know what words will help comfort you. But he can give you a hug, take you into his big arms, hold you to his warn chest, and gently stroke your back with his large hand. He’ll let you wet his shirt with your tears if you need to, he’ll hold you anyways if you don’t.

And when you’re ready, he’ll make a corny joke to break the tension and make you smile again, he LOVES your smile :)

Unsurprisingly, he hates feeling vulnerable. He’s the big, bad, boss, he shouldn’t be crying. He’s ashamed of this “weak” side of himself, so he tends to lock himself away, distance himself from you. He doesn’t want you to see him like this. Of course, because you’re concerned for his wellbeing, you weedle your way into his room, and let him bury his face in your stomach and hold him.

Just talk, about anything. Distract him with stories from your work/school, funny tales from your childhood, that one Togedemaru that keeps invading your garden. Play with his hair. Make him forget.

D = Dreams (how do they picture their future with their s/o and in general?)

Before he met you, he kinda stopped having dreams…. he failed his trials, wasn’t talking with his family, was just stuck in that ol’ Pokémon-evil-team shtick.

And then you came into his life, and suddenly, he’s thinking about getting a job, one that’ll probably be minimum wage and gruelling, but he’ll work himself half to death if it means he’ll be worthy of you. Maybe he’ll even go to college.

He just wants to be the kind of man you want to spend your life with, that you can give proud toasts about at your milestone anniversaries. Whether said life involves you two getting married and/or having a couple kiddos or not, he doesn’t mind either way.

E = Equal (are they the dominant one in the relationship or are they rather passive?)

Despite him being the big boss and all, he’s actually the more passive one. Honestly, he’s more into being chill and casual and cosy with you. So, you have to be the one to drag him out of the house to do something. You’re the one who suggests activities and food choices and all sorts.

F = Fight (how quick are they to forgive their s/o? what are they like in an argument? who says sorry first?)

Unsurprisingly, Guzma has a bit a lot of a temper. So, it means he’s quick to anger, and he’ll get quite thick. A lot of it is due to his insecurities, so seemingly innocuous things can set him off.

He’s very accusatory in fights, loud and in-your-face. Even a little mean :( (but he will immediately crumple if you start to cry)

He’s been working on himself though, so he will own up to his mistake. He’ll slink over to you, hunched over, hands buried in his pockets, gaze tilted downwards as he mumbles a “Sorry baby…”

He’s not embarrassed to say sorry, he’s embarrassed he got so emotional and angry in the first place. He NEVER wants to make you feel upset or unloved by him.

G = Gifts (what kind of things do they gift to their s/o? are they spontaneous or do they stick to special events like anniversaries?)

SNACKS. snacks. s n a c k s.

You will NEVER go hungry dating Guzma! Every time you see him, he’s at least got your favourite candy bar or fruit slices on him. He’s got a little basket in his room full of crispy corn snacks and chips for you two to munch on while you’re hanging out. When you tell him you’ve had a bad day, he WILL buy you a pint of ice cream for you to cry into.

Other gifts he likes to give you tend to be cute but small. Little plushes and keyrings and knickknacks. He likes picking out quirky things that he thinks suits you from thrift shops and markets and such.

For birthdays and such, he’s more likely to do a little collection of smaller gifts than one big gift. He’s always way more into giving you a memorable experience than anything else.

He’d really love to spoil you with diamonds and designer goods, but he ain’t got the money for that.

H = Heart Eyes (what are they like in love? is it obvious to others? how do they express their love? do they brag about their s/o to others?)

Guzma is so. fucking. happy. Like, genuinely on cloud nine. He’s sure of himself, cockier than usual, always having this smug grin on his face because he knows he’s caught a baddie.

The real question is, when is he not bragging about you?? He’s already boastful as is, so with you in his life. It’s practically comical how much he brags about you.

I = Impression (what first attracted them to their s/o? how accurate was their first impression to how their s/o actually is?)

Typically, when Guzma sees someone he’s attracted to, it’s all horniness on his part – but with you, it was different. You were just so beautiful, cute and pretty and kind and lovely. He was in awe.

He, of course, still thought you were incredibly hot and sexy, but he was feeling more than that for you, even at first sight.

J = Jealousy (do they get jealous easily? how do they deal with it?)

Very jealous. As cocky as he is, he’s deeply insecure, and is convinced he doesn’t deserve you… but that manifests as possessiveness. He’s terrified of losing you, especially to someone else.

When a love rival is about, he has an arm around you, using his large frame to shield you from whoever he’s worried about (whether it’s warranted or not). He’s all over you too, kissing you, touching you, making it obvious to everyone that you’re his.

And if anyone does try make a move on you? It’s gonna be a battle and not necessarily a pokemon one

K = Kiss (are they a good kisser? what was their first kiss like? where do they kiss the most?)

Oh, Guzma loves to kiss! He’s a playful, but passionate kisser, who loves making you smile with his smooches. He also can’t just give you one kiss, it has to be a flurry of kisses. He just loves having his lips on you.

His favourite place to kiss, other than your lips and neck, is your tummy! It makes you all giggly and squirmy and it warms his heart. He really likes your abdomen and he thinks it deserves all the attention!

more guzma kissing headcanons here!

L = Little Things (what are the little things they love about their s/o? are they attentive?)

omg when you hit him with that cute little smile of yours? His heart melts. And if you giggle too? Something get this man into heart surgery, his heart can’t TAKE the cuteness!

He loves your hands too, they’re so small compared to his, so delicate. He loves the way they fit in his hands, he treats them as if they’re delicate (which he has never done with anything before)

M = Marriage (do they want to get married? how do they propose? what would the wedding be like?)

Guzma would die if he got the chance to be your hubby. Spending the rest of his life with his boo, your love cemented and recognised by all AND a sick-ass party with CAKE? he’s sold.

Well, he would be, if it weren’t for his pesky insecurities getting in the way. He’s not good enough for you, he tells himself, you deserve better. You deserve the big white wedding and the stability other men can provide.

Of course, you knock him upside the head with the biggest reality-check of his life, and he finally comes to realisation he needs to marry you

Saves up to buy you a nice ring, and to take you out on a real night on the town (well mainly, that really nice Paldean place you wanted to try, and some ice cream afterwards). He takes you to the beach then, to watch the sunset. He’s sweating buckets the whole time, and when he finally gets down on one knee, he fucking forgets his whole speech and after a whole minute of awkward silence he eventually just says;  “..Marry me?”

You say yes of course, and later that year you tie the knot at that very beach. It’s cute and a little casual, there’s a buffet, one of the grunts are DJ-ing (your relatives are requesting 80s classics he’s never heard of). It’s genuinely just a really fun, amazing night, made even better by the fact that YOU’RE MARRIED TO GUZMA!!!

N = Nicknames (what do they call their s/o? what do they get called?)

Does he ever even call you by your actual name? In sincere, raw moments maybe. But most of the time, he’s calling you “boo” (his personal fave), “Babe/baby”, “cutie”, “cutiebug” (don’t let the grunts hear him call you that, he’ll never live it down) or some play on your name.

He even hits you with the “bro” sometimes.

You call him things like “Guz” or “Big guy” (He likes that one, makes him feel big and protective). Occasionally you’ll call him “Ma” which gets a chuckle outta everyone.

O = Open (do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? is it easy for them to share?)

Guzma puts on the big bad boss front a lot, it’s to protect himself. He is deeply insecure in himself – but he doesn’t want anyone to know that, let alone you, the person he loves so much.

But he can’t hide it forever, and as you become more and more serious about each other, those walls are chipped away by your kindness and your understanding nature. You start getting glimpses into his vulnerable side, into parts of his past that he’s not fond of. Soon enough, you’ve pulled away all that chitinous armour, and found the insecure boy beneath, who you love with all your heart nonetheless.

P = Pancakes (are they a good cook? how often do they cook for their s/o? breakfast in bed or fancy dinner dates?)

Guzma’s not bad at all… he just needs a little more practise, and a little more variety. He tends not to cook for himself, mostly eating takeout and ready meals. Sometimes he just has an energy drink instead of breakfast. He does cook for you though, because he wants to treat you right (and also because he doesn’t want you to think he’s a slob)

He can make a standard pasta sauce, a curry sauce, a toasty, pancakes and a chilli. As the two of you continue to date, he starts to up his culinary catalogue (sometimes to disastrous effect oops)

Sometimes you two are lazy, or just have cravings, and he’ll buy you takeout too. He tends to stick to pizza, but you can convince him to expand his horizons (he ended up really enjoying sushi!)

When bringing you for a night on the town, he mainly just brings you to fast-food places – he’s broke – but every now and then he’ll bring you to a nice restaurant to wine and dine you.

Q = Quirk (a random quality/ability that is beneficial to their relationship.)

You have scary dog or scary mon?  privileges. Absolutely nobody is gonna mess with you when you’re out with the big, bad bug man.

also you two lovingly recreate the “he asked for no pickles” meme all the time

R = Romance (how romantic are they? are they cliché or creative?)

Guzma is surprisingly romantic. He thinks you deserve the world, and while he doesn’t think he can give it to you, he tries his best. He likes to get you flowers when he can or take you on cute (but cheap) dates.

He’s bad with words, he’d love to wax poetic about your beauty and the love he has for you, but it never really comes out how he’d like. You get the sentiment though.

S = Sleep (who falls asleep first? do they need their s/o close to them? do they have any bad habits?)

It really depends, sometimes he hits the pillow and he’s out like a light, other times he likes to stay up and watch your cute face as you drift off.

Whenever you sleep in the same bed, you always end up with your limbs tangled in his, or with him enveloping you as the big spoon. You’re his teddy bewear, through and through. He needs to snuggle you to get a good night’s sleep

He snores SO LOUD and drools

T = Thrill (do they need to spice up their relationship with new things or do they stick to a routine? how often do they do new things?)

Personally, he’d prefer to just be chill and hang out – but he doesn’t want to bore you, or make you think he doesn’t care, so he does try and bring you on new and fun experiences, even ones he totally doesn’t have interest in, just because he thinks you’d like them. In the early stages, he brought you to things that neither of you enjoy, just because they were popular, and he was afraid he’d look like a bad boyfriend if he didn’t bring you there. He grew out of this once he became more secure in himself and in your relationship.

U = Unity (did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? what traits do they share?)

The introduction of you in his life is like a pivotal branching point in the timeline. From day one he wanted to be the kind of man you deserve, and he starts to fill that role little by little. If you’d ask him today, he’d still say you’re too good for him, but both of you can see the metamorphosis he’s gone through. He’s kinder, gentler, more patient, more understanding, more generous, and more confident in himself.

V = Value (how important is their relationship to them? what is it worth compared to other things in their life?)

You are Guzma’s number one priority. Nothing has mattered nor will EVER matter more to him than you. If you asked, he’d steal the moon for you. Your smile is the most precious thing to him in the world, he’d do anything to keep it.

W = Wild Card (a random fluff headcanon.)

Totally up for getting matching tattoos or piercings… or even just getting the ink by himself to honour you!

X = XOXO (do they like to kiss and cuddle? are they upfront about their relationship or rather shy when in public?)

The real question is… when is he not touching you?

He always has a hand on you, holding your hand, stroking your back, smacking dat ass… in public, in private. There is absolutely zero ambiguity whether you two are dating, because his displays of affection do not dwindle under the eyes of others.

Sure, he loves to cop a feel, but he’s also really big on hugs and kisses and cuddles. Having you in his arms just makes him feel whole, y’know?

Naturally, due to his body type, he is an AMAZING hugger.

Y = Yearning (how do they cope when they spend time away from their s/o? do they miss their s/o?)

Guzma does NOT take your absence well. You are his sunshine after all, his cinnamon applin, the cream in his coffee, the chocolate sauce on his ice cream. A day without you is a lifetime of misery for him.

When you’re apart you text all the time, and facetime in the evenings. Not being able to feel you physically hurts him, but being able to see your cute face and listen to your sweet voice definitely lessens it somewhat. You fall asleep on facetime with each other often.

Z = Zoo (do they have pets? do they want some in the future?)

Bugs, bugs, bugs, bugs. So many bugs! Small ones, big ones, cute ones, scaey ones… all the bugs!

[alcazarofthestars]

Can you do Blue Lock Sae x female reader x Rin fluff? The brothers are fighting for her love.

Hehehehe.... I don't know why but I'm a sucker for these types of fics, especially since it's about my two favorite bllk boys. But anyways, sure anon! I desperately need to practice writing fluff since I haven't done any for a while now. And I realized how hard it is to make a banner on a laptop because I originally wanted them to be placed on different sides... TwT

English isn't my first language so there will be some problems with my grammar.

Warnings: Nothing really, just Rin and Sae fighting for the reader's attention behind her back. Reader is implied to be their childhood friend and a bit older than Rin. Reader will be referred to as [Name].

3rd person POV:

Today in the Itoshi household, there seems to be a little... problem...

"Just what do you think you're doing here? Aren't you supposed to be in Spain or something." Rin spat as he glared at his older brother, Sae, who was sitting on the couch in front of him.

But to understand what is currently happening, let's start from the beginning, shall we?

Today is one of the few days where Rin could take a break from Blue Lock. Usually on days like these he would inform his dearest childhood friend (and crush), you, so the two of you can hang out before he returns to Blue Lock again. But unfortunately for Rin, there seems to be a change in his plans. And this rearrangement was caused by none other than his older brother Sae who just so happens to be on a break from his job.

And that leads us to where we are now. The two brothers are currently having an intense staring contests, the tension in the room is so thick that it could be cut in half using a knife. And to finish it all off, Mr and Mrs Itoshi are out of town on business so they couldn't separate the two away from each other.

It was at that moment that the person who would break the tension arrived, knocking on the door. "Hello? Rin, are you there?" The familiar voice of [Name] called, making both brothers freeze as they turn to look at the door. "I'm going to come in, alright?" She threatened as the door was slowly opening.

[Name] had just opened the door, but it seems like she hadn't realized that Sae was also there in the living room because she looked busy searching for something in the bag that she had brought along with her. "I know that you had just got back from Blue Lock and stuff, but I got you-?!" And that was her when she realized that Sae was there. "A-ah, it's nice to see you again, Sae." She greeted him, although a bit hesitant due to the fact that she wasn't expecting him to be in Japan right now.

Sae had now focused his attention on [Name], a small unnoticeable blush crept up on his face, as he just gave a small nod before looking away and focusing on the floor. Has it always been this clean and spotless?

A moment of peaceful (awkward) silence came after. "Hey Sae, we were about to watch a few movies together. Do you want to join us? It'll be just like what we used to do together when we were younger." As if sensing the tension, [Name] smiled as she tried to change the topic by inviting Sae to their little binge watching session. Much to Rin's dismay that was evident by the surprised look on his face. "Sure, I don't really have anything to do anyways." He responded although a bit blunt, he seemed rather excited when [Name] suggested that he joined them.

But this didn't escape Rin's sight. He isn't going to let his brother get in the way of his time with [Name], not on his watch.

If there's one thing that both brothers can remember well are all the moments that they had spent together with [Name]. But some of the most memorable has to be all the movie nights/sleepovers that they had together when they were younger. Though, most of the fun memories were made in the preparation for the movies, such as;

Making Homemade Snacks in the Kitchen

Usually before they'd start, they would prepare the snacks beforehand together. But Rin would rather not take any chances of his brother getting closer with his crush. So he had already prepared for this.

How you may ask? Well that's simple! He is way much better at cooking than Sae, he's been training for this moment since that one time you got bedridden due to a fever in middle school. So he will definitely impress you with his cooking skills!

So when you asked for them to help in preparing some snacks, he was more than confident in his skills.

He did not expect this to happen. Someone please explain to him why on earth his brother is getting all of [Name]'s attention while he just watches on the sidelines as he continues to peel the skin of potatoes in his own silent anger.

He swears that Sae is doing it on purpose too! I mean, just look at how whenever you weren't looking he would give a small but sly smirk to his younger brother before asking how to continue doing the next step in the cooking book. Sae doesn't even need help with most of the steps! Like come on, was he born yesterday or something cause he's acting like he doesn't know how to use a blender or cut some tofu.

Rin doesn't know why but he feels jealous whenever you would get close to his brother to show him how to do something or how you would put your hand on Sae's to guide him whenever he was cutting something. At this point, Rin is practically seething in jealousy. So much so that he didn't notice when he accidentally cut his finger a bit.

Sae may have won the kitchen battle, but he will not win the movie war.

Scores:

Rin: 0 Sae: 1

2. Preparing a Comfortable Spot to Watch

This is a tradition that would make their parents angry, you see, as kids both brothers would love to make a pillow fort together while you were busy usually with making the drinks. But sometimes, they tend to forget about it and their parents would scold them about returning things back to where it originally was.

Truthfully, Sae had forgotten about this little tradition. He doesn't really have any time for watching movies, and if he did it was either at a cinema with his teammates or on his couch in his house in Spain.

So during the time [Name] was preparing the drinks, Sae was just scrolling on his phone because he had gotten a lot of calls and texts from Shidou who somehow has his phone number now so Sae was trying to block him only for Shidou to use another number, but while this was happening Rin was turning the living room into a literal pillow haven. Most of the room was filled with pillows, blankets, and plushies (You gave one to each of them for their birthday and it's been well taken care of).

Rin wonders how Sae will react once he finds out that he was the culprit who gave Shidou his number. When Sae realized what Rin was doing (Sae made Shidou snitch on Rin), it was far too late. You already finished making the drinks and Rin had already picked out a movie.

Perhaps Sae was feeling a bit tired because he swears that he had seen Rin smirking at him as you compliment Rin. Yeah, he was definitely drowsy cause there is no way that he's losing against his brother out of all people, and even worse is that he's taking all of your attention.

No, he is not jealous.

He is definitely not jealous. Why would he be? He is way much better than Rin, so why would he be jealous? So what if Rin got a kiss on his cheek as a reward? when it comes to you; he won't lose to anyone, especially Rin.

If Rin wants to challenge him then he should know that Sae won't back down that easily.

Scores:

Rin: 1 Sae: 1

3. Movies!

When the three of you were still little kids you had a bedtime, but since you're now older you can stay up as long as you want. And back then there was a very limited amount of movies that you were allowed to watch since you were still young, but now you can watch anything you want although there is still some that you'd rather stay away from.

There are a large number of movies that the TV could offer, you were no longer confined to watching movies rated for kids so there wasn't much trouble with picking what to watch.

The problem is the two Itoshi brothers, you were aware of what had happened between them and the fact that their relationship isn't really the best. But this is too much! They've been glaring at each other since you came in. The tension feels almost suffocating, no scratch that- it is suffocating.

"How about we watch this one?" You asked as you had just picked a random movie, the two only nodded their heads as you started the movie.

Oh God that sure was a mistake.

Of all the movie options available you just had to pick out a horror movie, huh? Well, can't really back down now.

So this leads you to where you are right now, sitting in between Sae and Rin as you hold on tightly to Sae's hand after he offered it to you seeing how much you were sweating as Rin just rolled his eyes in jealousy. But the thing that you don't know is that Sae is afraid as well.

There was a scene halfway in the movie where the suspense was incredibly high when suddenly a jump scare appeared causing both you and Sae to scream as you hugged Rin's arm tightly for the rest of the movie.

The two brothers seemed sleepy when the movie had ended. You had excused yourself to use the washroom and placed a pillow in your stead. but when you got back there was a surprise waiting for you. Both Sae and Rin had fallen asleep leaning on the pillow that you placed in your stead.

Final Score:

Rin: 1.5 Sae: 1.5 [Name]: 2

Mission make the Itoshi brothers bond together has somehow failed successfully, but you aren't really complaining.

[spotlightlowlife]

Unpopular opinion, at this point, Blitzø is an issue.

Not because he's in the wrong, his situations suck more than him, so do some of those around him (*cough*Stolas *cough*Loona), he sucks because he's becoming more and more of an outlet for writers to play out power and sex fantasies with whilst being edgy and always quick enough to have a remark ready for others, always managing to be the centre of attention but will always be the victim too.

In every conceivable way, he's being wronged or he's punching up.

The arrangementship with Stolas is a case of him being a victim but for those who don't see it this way, Stolas x Blitzø is a chance at happiness, pauper being picked, even though their union was and will always be an inappropriate power imbalance which has now been the case since childhood, back where Blitzø was a victim of his dad, yet a few years later he somehow developed feelings for his friend who seemed like a sibling to him, but he seemed to envy him too? Either way we are too root for his unrequited 'love lost' that we can blame on a fire accidentally caused by none other than Blitzø, but we can also push blame others for this accident too.

Fizz and Barbie may be victims of his recklessness, but he means/meant no harm and he had it just as bad as them, hence the 'sorry but..' he offered Fizz.

Substance abuse got to be something Blitzø endulged in before we met Barbie who we had already been informed is an addict, Blitzø got to be both a boss and a victim during his binge which had even the sin of gluttony beat and concerned, yet when we meet Barbie, she is composed, working and has some success in being able to freely travel, having a human disguise and being able to easily manipulate others, which could have all been good, a change of tone from yet another downtrodden character and a change from a sloppy addict that may have expected, only, we had to be told Barbie was in rehab and recently so, we had to be informed that Blitzø looks out for her and is worried even though we never had never saw him track her progress previously. We meet her, there's nothing to indicate that they have spoken since Blitzø's fall out with Fizz, Barbie is pretty much work a similar job to her brother of causing destruction on Earth, yet morals come into play for just one of them? Neurotic, antisocial and traumatised, comes to earth as an assassin, excellent, no content yet and seems well put together but we have been told is an addict, comes to earth the deal, scum.

Barbie made Blitzø sad by not listening to him and washing her hands of him (again, when did they last speak? Has there been nearly 20 years of the same conversation?), which yet again has us pouring sympathy into him.

Then there's the clearly hurt and robbed Verosika, who's upset is totally glossed over because 'she's so iconic'.

The power dynamics are entirely power play, because there are too many characters supposedly of much higher standing who Blitzø easily rubs shoulders with, stands out to and crosses to no consequence, all for no particular reason, the dismissal of what he says and does is reminiscent of a movie where a ghost doesn't know they're dead or a character doesn't realise their friend is imaginary. All excluding Stolas of course but this but this is where the power play sex fantasy is.

Why are they together? Answer, Blitzø's desperation to have his business work, the whole plot to the show.

Like Hazbin, the pilot started out rather strong, it ticked every box mentioned in one episode, they were a wicked bunch but morally grey, the trip to hospital being a prime example, we met humans, we saw Earth, Stolas was a intimidating and regal, Blitzø was reckless with money and decision making, the advert on a low rating station being the prime example, along with blind nepotism.

How is it that this series hasn't had the time to return to its roots since half way through season one?

When does Blitzø get a break from all this trauma dumping and actually get to have other things going on in his life?

Realistically, someone who works has work to talk about, it is a major part of their life. Someone who runs a business tends to put in more hours than your average worker. Work gives you something to talk about, creates new experiences and problems to solve, has you mixing with other and takes up a lot of your time. Where is any of this?

Until it returns to the plot where he is a business owner actually running his business, having interactions with customers and victims, travelling to Earth more regularly, facing actual threats from those who don't care about how sad he is and are actually bothered by his obnoxious ways, I have a questions.

Where are the common teething issues business tend to have, like budget, landlords, tax, inflation, lack of exposure?

How do they pay their day to day expenses, especially since they have so much time on their hands?

Why aren't they out advertising?

How do I.M.P catch the eye of those who just died and how do these sinners pay?

When was the last time we saw a sinner?

Blitzø's direction gives the impression that he's being written for the chronically online people who wish this was them, that they were more feisty, outgoing and desirable whilst others just got them and felt their misery, something that can easily be done as a viewer, throw in the tried and tested powerful and dangerous royalty that worked so well for Twilight and 50 Shades and we have a character who can be vicariously lived through, basically the classic fairytale default damsel who people also want to criticize. It's like he's being reduced to an clownish caricature, looks the vibrant and animated character we were introduced to but that's all just in paper now, he barely stands out in any recent episodes because his presence wasn't nessessary and when he was relevant, it's for his ship or drama from his past.

While waiting to see him with his coworkers who he voyers on because he's sad and lonely, his rude and violent adult adopted daughter, or learn about the trauma surrounding his mother, or whatever is going on with his user dad, or when we will next see his troubled sister who is mad at him, his bitter ex, his best friend/ex friend/rival/friend who lives the life he should be living who he sexually harasses since reconciliation, or his transactionship, or whatever else is pushed on him and there no doubt will be more. What about his present? What about his daily life outside the misery forever sent his way for us?

He should be encountering strangers and a massive variety of situations he can't entirely control on the regular, having to draw upon his smarts, experiences and group dynamic to get out of binds or be efficient, his trauma, sadness and his sass could be a force of good.

How much of his likability is nostalgia, maybe from outside of show? Outside of the pity and sex jokes, what is being done with him?

This may all be harsh and funny enough I actually like this character, but never have I known a series where the solution to making a main character more deep was is a simple case of

'Let them get on with it!

Let them do their job!

Stick to the story!'

Well I do know one other case...

[amywritesthings]

something in the movies. / a gojo satoru holiday one shot

pairing: gojo satoru x f!reader ( jujutsu kaisen ) word count: 2.2k / rated mature summary: A romcom marathon for the holidays (and his birthday) with your colleague, Gojo Satoru, hits a little too close to home with your own accidental romcom moment.

tags: hidden inventory arc spoilers, colleagues in denial, childhood friends to lovers, holiday movie marathon, sexual tension, romance, fluff with a little sluttiness, fade to black, gojo get smooches for his birthday because he deserves it credit: dividers by @saradika

welcome to the fifth day of the twelve days of amymas 2023 !!

When Gojo Satoru suggests stopping by your apartment for a day-long movie marathon extravaganza, you expect the usuals:

Something pitifully 1980’s with much too goofy graphic violence;

Thrillers with a twist that's solvable by act one, though Gojo insists this one will stump you;

A science fiction exploration flick that’s a little outdated but fun nonetheless.

Yet when he’s standing outside of your apartment door, his hands are full of—

“Holiday movies?”

You squint and turn your chin to observe the titles as he proudly holds them out to you to take.

Every cover is an endless array of snowy backgrounds and people dressed in all sorts of ugly sweaters, with no distinction in sight.

(He always did take his December birthday very seriously, even when you were just kids at Jujutsu High.)

“Not just holiday movies.”

Gojo corrects your assumption, stepping into your apartment without a formal invitation.

He kicks off his black shoes at your door with a smirk.

“Shitty romantic comedies."

"I've never heard of any of these," you mumble when you pluck the DVDs from his hands.

"How could you? They're only available in a discount bin, so they're guaranteed hidden gems. These babies never made it to the big screen. ”

You watch him making himself at home, navigating your apartment like he owns the place.

The world's greatest sorcerer never cares to be polite, not when this song and dance has played on repeat for ten years.

Pretending he lives here, as opposed to being a frequent guest second to your mutual friend Nanami, is just part of the norm when school is in recess.

(But you’re not dating.)

You can’t date a colleague, not really.

Although Principal Yaga wouldn’t particularly care if you did, fraternizing with someone you work with — someone you've grown up with, someone you've bled with — isn’t a leap you’re willing to make.

Besides, you’ve lived long enough as a first-grade sorcerer to know Jujutsu Society has a habit of fucking up good things, both intentionally and accidentally — so you don’t. 

Which, in turns, leads you both to a hairy situation where you’re both spending all of your free time away from the halls of Jujutsu High to do…

Well, this.  

Whatever this is.

“So you bought a bunch of… Hallmark movie DVDs?” you clarify.

“Yep.”

“And you want to binge… shitty Hallmark movies?”

“That’s hilarious. You say that like there are good ones.”

Gojo flops down on his favorite side of your couch.

He stretches his long legs out on the extended cushion, one ankle crossed over the other.

“Besides, what else are we supposed to do?”

“I don’t know,” you reply, following him around the mouth of the hallway that spills into the small living room. “Maybe watch good holiday movies?”

His thumb catches the bottom of his black blindfold.

You never have to see his full face to know what type of mood he’s in, or how he’s looking at you: Gojo radiates his emotions like a neon shop sign whenever he’s around you.

Satoru pulls the fabric of the blindfold outward, teasing the reveal of his sparkling blue eyes.

(You’re not immune to their immense power. No one is.)

They’re not a flame to a wayward moth, but a fucking beacon.

“Don’t tell me you’ve never taken the time to binge these before.” He snaps the blindfold back in place. “They’re a riot.”

You shake your head.

“Not really in my wheelhouse, Gojo.”

“Well—”

Satoru slaps his hands against his thighs and uncrosses his ankles to stand, despite only just sitting down.

You’ve never seen a grown man so restless.

“—get ready for this stuff to knock your socks off, because I’m about to enlighten you on the true meaning of ‘tis the spirit.”

“You mean ‘tis the season?”

“Same thing.”

He fidgets with your ancient Blu-ray player you haven’t quite shelved yet as you make your way into the kitchenette connected to the living room. 

You know what he wants before you can ask — a White Russian mocktail to match your alcoholic one.

(But you're not dating.)

You mix the ingredients together, eyes following as he drops back onto your couch, long arm extended over the back.

Butterflies flutter when he pulls the blindfold off, pocketing it for later, and fixes a pair of black sunglasses over his eyes.

His hand then smooths over his white hair, curving at his freshly-buzzed undercut, and he settles in for the night.

Comfortable. 

An oasis of calm in the ever-present Jujutsu storm.

(But you’re not dating.)

And he’s right.

The movies? Fucking terrible.

Gojo doubles over when he laughs. You have to wipe your tears from laughing just as hard.

You find the back of your head dropping to the couch when you laugh, landing unintentionally into his open palm.

Satoru cradles your head safely in his hand to keep it from hitting the back of the furniture.

Two sappy romantic comedies and three drinks later—

You find yourself inching closer to the middle cushion of your couch acting as a zone of neutrality between you.

He isn’t much better, constantly fidgeting on his end. The white-haired man lets a long leg dangle over the arm of the couch, his torso scrunched in an awkward half-lay towards the middle.

With each peanut-gallery commentary and scathing review of unbelievable scenarios, you both find yourselves nearly shoulder-to-shoulder.

He’s sober as can be, and you’re warm from the alcohol’s influence.

Still, it’s only a mere dusting of tipsy — you can stomach a lot of liquor in comparison to most.

And you get lost in it.

This — the comfort, the familiarity, the way the main characters of this shitty Hallmark movie are holding one another.

The Christmas Prince is confessing his love to the small-town girl that wrecked all of his plans under the cover of a gazebo while snow falls around them. He admits he was in denial about her this whole time, the big dipper in his little dipper sky— 

“Oh my god, look at you.”

You turn your face to Satoru at the record-scratch jest.

He smiles down at you, bordering a shit-eating grin.

Close.

A stone throw away.

Blinking twice, you begin wiping at your face assuming something got stuck on it. 

“What? What about me?”

“You’re swooning—” Gojo points to the screen. “—over that.”

Your jaw drops, and he starts laughing — full bellied and joyous.

“I— Shut up, I am not!” you sputter pathetically in response.

“Are too! I see you! Starry-eyed over some bad pick-up lines.”

Gojo's head tilts, snow-white brow quirked high.

“Don’t tell me this cheesy stuff actually works on you.”

You gesture with a hand to the television to protest. “He’s saying she’s his big dipper! It’s cute!”

Gojo snorts, seemingly disinterested, but he reaches forward.

Suddenly you feel his thumb run along the high point of your cheek. 

All motor functions in your body cease to exist. 

“Please, I can do way better,” the white-haired man says. “This guy isn’t even trying to act.”

All you can do is stare, flushed with uncertainty.

(When did it become a competition to woo you?)

Gojo slides his thigh off of the couch’s arm to sit up, leaning in.

Danger.

Neon signs.

You need your white flag, but you’re too curious about where this may lead.

“First of all, he’s cornering her like she’s a hostage. That’s kind of creepy. He’s all about ‘you’re my big dipper’, but what does that even mean? They haven’t mentioned any stupid stars once in this movie.” 

He drags his thumb once more with a breathy chuckle. 

“Dumbass doesn’t even hold her face right. Why’s his thumb all the way on her cheek? You gotta scoot your hand up a little so you can — there.”

Oh.

The movie becomes white noise to your own predicament when Gojo glides his palm across your cheek.

His thumb, once stroking your face, dips to your mouth.

He runs it timidly along your bottom lip—

Then softly tugs it down, and you're not sure if it's you who gasped or if you imagined the sound.

“Anyone ever tell you how beautiful you are?”

Satoru murmurs, voice an octave lower, keeping the conversation in the space between you. 

The way the question veers this situation away from silly pick-up line mockery to something more — something real — has your body tensing.

You should shut this down.

You should laugh it off.

Your voice is barely audible when you protest his name.

“Gojo, don't fuck with—”

“I’m not fucking with you,” he interrupts, as if he anticipated you to protest. “I’m not. I'm genuinely asking.”

"Where is this coming from?" you ask.

"Just wanted to know, that's all," he mumbles in return. "Have they?"

“...people have."

You reply after a beat, purposefully watching his mouth as his tongue runs along the seam of his lips.

“In fact, I’m pretty sure you have. Before."

"Yeah?"

"Multiple times.”

“Yeah?”

“When we were kids.”

“Ha—" The mention brings a passing glow to his face. "And I totally meant it back then, too.”

He must notice the way your eyes grow wider.

“What? I didn’t have a filter when we were kids,” he says with a snort, seemingly mesmerized by the way your lip moves under his thumb. “I was too busy to lie. Still am — busy, I mean. But you stuck around.”

You look at him curiously, trying to understand where he’s going with this.

I was busy.

Sure — trying to be the best with Geto, to avoid getting corralled by Yaga, to beg Ieiri to meddle in the incessant hijinks.

In Jujutsu High, you were a year behind him with Nanami Kento and Haibara Yu. 

Quickly it only became Nanami Kento.

And, with so few young sorcerers in the world, it was crucial to befriend. To trust.

Geto defecting, Haibara dying, Utahime opting to teach in Kyoto, Shoko becoming a medical professional, Nanami choosing the real world over the land of curses—

It just left you, and it left Gojo Satoru.

For ten whole years, it’s only been the two of you — dismantling the old ways and ushering in a new wave of sorcerers who, hopefully, do not have to be in so much pain.

Your brows knit. “Satoru, where is this coming from?”

Talk to me, you want to say.

Calling him by his first name conveys enough.

“Bad Christmas movies, I guess,” he breathes, leaning a fraction closer.

The short puffs of his breath tickle the lower half of your face.

“Premonitions. Reflections. The holiday spirit.”

“That moved by a Hallmark monologue, huh?” you try to tease, and his lips do quirk upwards with amusement at your jab. "And you said that guy’s speech was bad."

“It was terrible, to be fair,” he replies, “but it did give me ideas, so thanks Christmas Princess 7: Deck the Royal Halls.”

You snort to laugh, but before you can, he’s pulling your chin up and over.

Soft lips press to yours, and the world ceases.

Before you can talk yourself out of it, you press a second kiss to his lips.

He briefly grunts, pushing you back until you're flush with the length of the couch.

Gojo cages himself over you, hovering with a long leg dangling awkwardly off of the couch so as not to crush you.

Third, fourth, fifth — you lose track of how many greedy kisses happen.

They grow longer, deeper, and soon his tongue is flicking over your lips to ask for access.

You easily open your mouth to moan into the kiss, and you feel him shiver above from the noise.

His hand crawls up your hip, seeking the hem of your shirt — seeking the warmth of your bare skin under his large hands.

You let him.

You'll let him do whatever he wants so long as he keeps going.

His glasses begin sliding down the bridge of his nose from the sheer passion of his kisses, awkwardly pulling you out of the moment when they nudge against your face.

You laugh and Gojo pants above you, blue eyes alight with a fiery desire.

There is an overwhelming ease to this, like you’ve waited your whole lives to try —

To enjoy.

To indulge.

To live.

"Happy birthday, by the way," you pant, and Satoru grins wicked and wide.

"Thought maybe you forgot."

"How could I forget? You're only very loud about your birthday every year," you joke right back, swallowing to coat your dry throat. "Did you wanna do something for it?"

He stares down at you over the falling sunglasses, blue eyes sparkling. "Was a shitty romcom marathon not my gift? Because that's kinda all I wanted."

Butterflies invade your stomach.

"Yeah?" you breathe.

He nods. "Yeah."

A moment of heavy air and anticipation passes over you both. He still pins you to your couch, hovering. His hands never left your sides, shirt scrunched under his wrists.

“I wanted to see how that movie ended, by the way,” you add.

That makes him bark with a laugh.

“I can act the rest out for you if you let me stay.”

He’s only stayed the night a few times, each ending with never happening again.

Yet history is doomed to repeat itself.

You’ve both learned that by now.

Still? It's technically his birthday.

“Fine,” you relent with an amused exhale. “Stay.”

(But you’re not dating.)

.

[beanmachine69]

can you please right a lance stroll fic where they both love each other but don’t know it yet?

Blankets | Lance Stroll

The season had ended, it was early December and as per tradition, your families were in their cabin in the mountains. It was a silly cliche, but over the years you’d grown to look forward to it, especially since Lance started his f1 career and you two would rarely get to relax together like you usually would. Having grown up around each other, you two were practically inseparable; falling into all the childhood best-friend categories you could find. You’d support his career as much as you could, cheering him on from home and sometimes the paddock- you two were seen so often together that at some point some dating rumors had sprung up too.  

You had known Lance all your life, you two had spent most of your childhood together. He was almost two years older than you, which made you the youngest of the bunch and though Chloe always treated you like a little sister, hanging out with her wasn’t always an option because of the major age difference. Your families had been together for generations, your fathers being family friends since they were kids themselves too- the Strolovich family feeling like your own second home. 

“Fires’ nice and warm outside.” Your mother commented, passing the lounge to reach the kitchen, “You two sure you wanna stay here in front of the TV?” 

“Yeah, I’m not in the mood to hang out with my drunk father, that's your job.” You replied, eyes still plastered on the large screen in front of you. 

“You both become the same person when you’re drunk y’know.” Lance mumbled, eyes not moving to look at your phony expression of betrayal.

You playfully shoved him away from you, only for him to bounce back and press his side against you again. You two were always close, having had very little physical boundaries around one another as you grew up. You’d had plenty of cozy moments, none of them meaning anything more than what they were to either one of you. Albeit, this proximity would look far more romantic than platonic to strangers, you two had learned to keep it reserved for private spaces, the last thing you needed were more rumors for Lance to have to deal with later.

Movie nights at the cabin were more than what the rest of your families had understood them to be. You could still recall how you two would bond over these nights, and how often you’d whisper secrets to each other in the blanket- secrets that neither of you would have the guts to share face-to-face. You had told Lance about your awful first kiss while some silly 90s’ comedy movie played, and he had told you about his first failed talking stage while you both rewatched Criminal Minds for the millionth time. These shared moments under the blanket and in front of the TV were sacred to the both of you, it was like a little safe space for any and all confessions, it was these moments which made your bond so inseparable; under the blankets, with the faint light of the television seeping through the fabric to illuminate the cozy space as the conversation was muffled from others by the blanket and the background noise- it was a weird tradition, but one which you both cherished. 

You didn’t mind horror movies, or the genre in general, but perhaps binging a bunch with Lance late into the night in a cabin far from civilization wasn’t the best possible idea. So there you were now, afraid in your bed after having been forced by the instagram algorithm to continue your horror binge, alone in your room with all the curtains drawn out of the fear of a mountain creature. Your fear was irrational, you had no reason to be as scared as you were, but it still managed to keep you from falling asleep. You decided if you were going to be consumed by a horror beyond human comprehension, you might as well get a snack before doing so. 

The walk downstairs to the kitchen was frightening enough, but now you could hear the wind a lot clearer now, and every breath that escaped you seemed to sound unlike your own, your own shadow frightening you with every surface that it fell on. As you began to eat the chips you and Lance had bought earlier, your mind managed to consume itself in more theories and possibilities- kidnapping, demonic possession, a gruesome death by the hands of a wendigo, could Slenderman be here somewhere?-

“What are you doing up?”

Those five words were enough for your brain to completely haywire, accepting all possible scenarios to be true all at once, your flight or fight response kicked in, making you scream and drop your chips. Not particularly fight or flight, but it was something, in the case of any of the terrifying scenarios you had pictured earlier to come true, this would have possibly been the last sign of you your family or friends would have heard. 

“Jeez, why are you screaming?” Lance laughed, aware of how his efforts to spook you had worked out. 

“Oh my God Lance, you nearly gave me a heart attack!” You scolded, shoving him in the arm. 

Your hand was on your chest, feeling your heart pounding from the sudden burst of adrenaline. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think you’d shit yourself.” Lance continued to laugh, clearly finding amusement in your reaction. 

You rolled your eyes as you tried clearing up the little mess you made by dropping the chips on the floor; Lance stayed in the kitchen, wordlessly grabbing you a replacement and one for himself too. You two stood there, not saying a word, only looking at the remnants of the fireplace outside as you finished your snack. 

“It’s really cold.” You mumbled, eyes on the burnt out logs. 

“Hm? Yeah.” He replied, moving his eyes from the window and back to you. 

The kitchen was dimly lit, with neither of you bothering to turn on any more lights than the countertop lighting that was already on. It was cozy, but for some reason the house was still cold despite the central heating. There was a dense silence between you two, your breathing being a silent acknowledgement of the other person, it was comfortable to be in someones’ presence and not feel the need to fill the space with words. 

“I can’t sleep.” Lance sighed, breaking the silence and prompting you to turn around to face him instead of the window.

“What, you scared?” You asked, teasingly nudging him a bit. 

His features looked enhanced in the dim light of the kitchen. You were never one to pay attention to how his face looked in different lighting, but the scarce light emitting from the below the cabinets and above the counters deepened his features; his brows almost seemed to cast a shadow over his dark eyes, making them seem black almost, the light shadows under his cheekbones and jaw seemed to be darkened in the sparse lighting- he almost looked intimidating to you for the first time. He didn’t seem like the pleasant and joyful friend you knew, but some serious and solemn man for a moment, only for a fleeting moment did you see that version- momentarily you quite literally saw him in a different light. 

“Shut it, do you wanna go upstairs? You could hang out in my room for a bit.”

The moment passed faster than it had appeared, making you question whether it had ever appeared or not.

“Sure.” 

Lance propped himself against the headboard, watching you as you sat across from him on the chair. The room was surprisingly cold too, was the heater not working or were you just cold?

“You never told me about that date you went on by the way.” Lance asked, putting his phone away from him; a gesture he did often to indicate his undivided attention was directed at you.  

“Which one?” You asked, not recalling any dates in the past few weeks. 

You brought your legs up on the chair, closer to your chest in order to prevent the cold you were feeling. His eyes followed your movement, tracing every bend and taking into account all of the little gestures you made, including the little hook your fingers made when you were confused.

“Y’know that stupid date your friend set you up with? The IT guy from the US?” Lance probed further, reminding you of an old date which you had successfully forgotten all about. 

“Oh that’s old stuff.” You mumbled, arms wrapping around your knees. 

“Yeah we haven’t really got a chance to sit down and talk for a while.” 

“I guess…” You trailed off, distracted by the surprise you felt by how cold it was and how Lance seemed to just not care for it. 

“So, the date?” 

“Right, yeah no it went fine, but I don’t know he just wasn’t it.” You replied, shrugging and sparing him the details. 

Lance pouted a bit, before adjusting his posture so he was lying down more than sitting up and patting the sheets next to him.

“Come on, you’re clearly freezing.” He noted, steering the conversation to a completely different route. 

You didn’t think much of it, you two would sleep in the same bed plenty of times when you were kids, it wasn’t odd at all. Even now, when Lance would crash at your house he’d sleep in your bed next to you- it wasn’t odd it was just the comfort you two had with each other. So when you crawled under the sheets and scooted closer to Lance, the both of you ignored the way your eyes locked for a moment.

“So, what was wrong with him? What made him not it?” 

Aversion. That’s what one would call it; he averted his eyes and changed the topic, that moment where your eyes locked as you moved closer to him under his sheets in his bed was nothing but a fleeting moment. 

“I don’t know Lance, he just wasn’t my type.” 

“I thought you said you didn’t have a type.” 

“I don’t… it’s just that I guess I hate having to get to know people romantically, it just seems like such a bother. Plus, remember the hell I had to be put through the last time that happened?”

Your ex wasn’t the peachiest person imaginable; he was manipulative and constantly accusing you of having a more complex relationship with Lance than you would admit to. “You two look at each other like nothing else matters, you don’t even look at me like that!”, accompanied often with several “There’s no way you two are just friends!”. His words hadn’t affected the friendship you had with Lance, obviously, but it did put a damper on the amount of time you two would spend with each other. In the end it truly wasn’t worth it considering he cheated on you with his own best friend. 

“God, he was a dick.” Lance mumbled, scooting lower on his bed and completely lying down, bringing the blanket up till his neck.

“Yeah, getting cheated on isn’t fun.” You mumbled, covering your face with the blanket; not because you were ashamed or wanted to hide your face, but because you were cold and your nose felt like it was going to freeze.

“Oh my god, how cold are you?” Lance asked, accompanying you under the blankets, swatting them a bit so the thick material wouldn’t hide your face from him. He reached over to grab your hand, only to let out a small yelp after feeling how cold they were. “Woah, you’re fucking freezing.”

“Yeah, I don’t know why I’m this cold.” You replied.

There wasn’t much need to ask or say anything, words weren’t a necessity in communication between you two sometimes. He just knew you well enough to know what you’d need and you knew the same, and so he covered the distance, and wrapped his arms around you, enveloping you in a warm hug. 

Several moments had passed and though you were still feeling cold, his body heat had managed to warm you up enough for it to not be a problem. As an unspoken token of appreciation, you had begun gently rubbing your fingertips on his scalp, something you knew he liked. 

“Do you remember when we were teens and we’d sneak into each other's rooms like this and watch all the shows we weren’t allowed to watch?” Lance whispered, not needing to talk at a higher volume due to the proximity. 

“We used to sneak into each others’ rooms all the time, remember that annoying nanny our parents would bring along? That old lady who was convinced we were up to no good?” You laughed, remembering how often she’d complain to your parents about your antics and how Lance wasn’t a good influence on a young girl like you.

“Oh God, she was the worst. She used to be on your ass about everything, she always said you weren’t proper enough.” 

“Ooh ooh, remember when we managed to sneak out with Chloe and go to that party with her friends in the summer?” You chimed, remembering something completely off-topic.

“Yeah, that time her friends forced us to kiss in that stupid truth or dare game, I swear I told your dumbass to sit next to me but you just had to sit next to that stupid guy.” Lance scoffed. 

“Oh my God yeah, that was my first kiss.” You replied, recalling how flushed you were and how glad you were now to have that memory be with someone like Lance and not with some weird, much older guy. 

“Wait, really?! I thought that was just something you were messing about!” He pulled away to look at you better. 

“No! Why would I lie about that?!” You asked, pulling away from his chest a little too, craning your neck to look at his face. 

“I…. I don’t know.” Lance replied after thinking for a while, pulling you back into his chest to avoid having to look you in the eye, “I guess I didn’t want to believe that your first kiss was with me.”

“Why not?” You asked, the question laced with confusion and several different emotions you couldn’t identify, “I never told you about my first kiss, I always thought you knew it was you.” 

A silence fell between you two, a sort of uncomfortable silence which made your hand stop stroking his hair, and made his grip on you loosen a bit. The cold hit again and though Lance was still close, it just didn’t seem like enough; for the first time in your life-long friendship you felt like a wedge had made its’ way in a moments’ notice, drawing you two apart. 

You had told him the night it had happened, on the way back to your house, you leaned in and told him that he was your first kiss. It was the earliest stages of his racing career, just a little before he debuted in F4. It was so long ago, you had forgotten about it, it really was just a silly little dare, but now you felt like you’d imposed a boundary you didn’t know existed. 

The silence between you two had lasted longer than either of you would prefer, yet neither of you had mustered the courage to disrupt this silence, hiding behind it from one another like you had never done before. The cold began to make its presence known to you once again, the blanket not providing much comfort any longer.

He had never given it much thought, it really wasn’t a big deal and he wasn’t upset, rather just confused. He had been looking forward to this family vacation more than he usually would, and until he saw and hugged you, he couldn't seem to figure out why. You were his best-friend and as cliche and silly as the title sounded, he couldn’t ever just call you a friend, you were so much more than that, yet whenever anyone called you his sister he’d just end up feeling uncomfortable; he’d never seen you in that light, the thought was just weird. Realizing that he was your first kiss made him feel something he had previously averted from a few moments ago, except now, aversion wasn’t something he could do- it wasn’t something he wanted to do. He understood the reason that he hadn’t consciously accepted the fact that he was your first kiss was because he knew he liked the idea far more than he should have; he liked that he was your first kiss and he liked the idea of having that card over all the other men you had dated, he liked that you two had shared that sentiment, he liked that he was your first and most importantly: he liked the idea of kissing you.  

The situation felt awkward and you mentally decided it would be better off to just go back to your room, and so you did, quietly moving out of his bed and making your way to your own room. You had gone as far as tucking yourself in till your thoughts finally started piling on.

What if I pissed him off? Why did he get so quiet? Did I fuck things over? God, how did I manage to mess up the one friendship I thought would last forever? Why does it matter, we’re just friends and the idea of us kissing shouldn’t ruin a life-long friendship, should it? Unless he has another girlfriend again, God I really don’t want to have to go through that again, Wait, why not? It shouldn’t matter if he dates someone, right? I mean I haven’t been the biggest fan of his exes but who am I to- 

Your thoughts were interrupted when you heard the door to your room open, followed by shuffled footsteps and a weight on your bed. You turned to make out what you correctly assumed to be Lance, crawling under the blanket with you. You heard a huff of breath as he got comfortable, wrapping his warm arms around you again and pulling you into him once more.

You were confused momentarily, not having been able to completely exit your mind palace before you had to register all that happened. However, it only took you a few moments to adjust before you hugged him back, adjusting yourself against him slightly before fitting perfectly into his arms. 

“Do you remember how we’d sit under the blanket and cover ourselves completely in our blanket forts to talk in private when we were younger?” Lance asked, his smile almost audible in his words as he recalled the memory, not addressing the conversation earlier.

“Yeah,” You chuckled, “We’d call for ‘blanket meetings’ and all….”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m kind of calling for one right now.” He said, pulling away slightly, preparing to hold the blanket over your heads. 

You didn’t need to say anything, you smiled as you grabbed your phone and sat up, adjusting yourself under the blanket as Lance sat up too, the blanket forming a little tent around you two as his head held it in place. It took a little more shuffling around till you both were completely covered and comfortable and it was then when you pulled out your phone, turning on the flash and placing it in between you two so you could see each other. Having done this your whole lives, you two knew exactly what to do. 

“God, the blankets seemed so much bigger when we were kids.” You laughed. 

“The blankets were always big on you, pipsqueak.” Lance laughed.

“Oh, fuck off.” You laughed, “Alright, so why did you call this meeting?” 

“Oooh, professional.” Lance laughed, locking eyes with you as his laugh faded.

“If it’s about our conversation earlier, then I don’t really wanna talk about that, can we just go back to pretending that that never happened?” You asked, eyes averting his.

“No, we can’t. I don’t want to pretend like that didn’t happen, if anything I’m really glad you had your first kiss with me, I’m a much better option than that creep you thought was cute, if anything I was the best option in that whole party.” Lance spoke, voice hushed to match the vibe.

“I mean yeah… Wait, did you just say you were the best option? You know my ex was there too, right? I mean sure we dated after years but we met for the first time at that stupid party.” You recalled, ready to contradict his statement, unsure of what your argument would be considering your ex was awful.

“Yeah, I stand by what I said.” Lance spoke, a determination present in his voice. “You know how I felt about that loser anyways.” 

“Oh please, you never seemed to like any of the exes I have.” You scoffed.

“Like you like any of mine.” Lance scoffed in return, eyes still looking into yours despite your attempts at looking away. 

“I mean-” You tried to defend yourself when he cut you off.

“Oh come on, you know we don’t like any of each other's exes.” Lance persisted.

“I mean yeah, but I don’t like them because I think you deserve better.” You replied, content with your argument.

There was a moment of silence before Lance spoke and in that moment you watched his face as he thought, the way his brows momentarily furrowed and how his brown doe-eyes looked into yours, not breaking contact and making you more nervous than you had anticipated. 

“Well, I thought the same, y'know, I kept comparing them to me and how I’d treat you so much better than those losers.” 

His statement was calculated, and you could tell. It had completely thrown you off and confused you beyond expression, it left you dumbfounded and staring at him with your mouth open to say words you knew didn’t exist. 

“Come onn, You never thought about it? You’re telling me you didn’t think about the kiss all the time after it happened?” He probed, examining your face for a clearer answer.

To be fair, the second Lance had found out the kiss you shared was your first, a whole barrage of feelings and thoughts had bombarded his mind and he had no idea what to do or say, so when you walked off he barely registered what happened and when he did, he decided to resort to old tactics to talk to you and try to comfort you. Admittedly, Lance knew he should have understood that something was up when he realized that he didn’t hate the dating rumors between you two, nor did he hate the proximity you shared, if anything, Lance looked forward to these holiday retreats with your family because it meant you two could live together for a few days and he loved that- he also loved how close you two were and how in all honesty he truly wouldn’t want to date anyone but you. The realization that he had been comparing all his past relationships with you and why they’d never work out wasn’t something he had expected to come to so abruptly, yet here he was, risking everything for a whim. 

“I don’t know about you, but I don’t want that to be our last kiss.” Lance smiled, hoping that this last statement would break the silent oath you seemed to have taken. 

He leaned in closer, looking at you for a response, which you gave in the form of a small nod, before he gently landed his lips onto yours, holding your face as the blankets around you readjusted to the movement. His hold was gentle, like he was scared he’d hurt you or something, while your lips clumsily, eventually found a rhythm. 

You were bright red when you two pulled away for air. You mentally cursed yourself for turning the flash on. The prospect of you two being more than friends always seemed like a crazy thought, it always felt like something you felt wrong thinking about, like you weren’t allowed or something. But kudos to Lance for somehow always managing to understand what you two needed faster than you, whether it was making road-trip decisions or Tim Hortons’ order decisions, credit where credit was due, that man could read you like a book. And now he had made it apparent that he was capable of reading in between the lines too. You never knew you had wanted Lance more than a friend and now that the option was brought to your notice, you couldn’t, even for a moment, consider giving it up. The kiss hadn’t lasted long, but it had erupted feelings in you that had laid dormant for far too many years, all of which overwhelmed you enough to not think of your decision again before crashing your lips back onto his, this time allowing your hands to find the back of his head to push him into the kiss, which he enthusiastically reciprocated, his hands landing on your waist to pull your whole body closer. Suddenly, air didn’t seem like much of a necessity as the kiss deepened and you two got more comfortable against each others’ lips. It wasn’t till you two pulled away again, locking gazes as your chests heaved against each other, stupid grins adorning both of your faces. 

“Why didn’t we come to this realization earlier?” You asked.

“I don’t know… I’m just glad we came to it, better late than never no?” He laughed.

Now you didn’t feel so guilty admiring the way his face scrunched up when he laughed and how the skin around his nose crinkled and how you could see the slight gap between his side teeth and his front teeth. There was so much about him that you had mentally noted and admired that seeing him this close didn’t even feel like anything new- it was just Lance after all. 

“I still can’t believe I was your first kiss and we still didn’t do anything up till now.” Lance smiled, his lips parting to show his teeth. 

“I mean, I don’t know I didn’t really understand what I was feeling till now I guess.” You mumbled through a smile, lips barely moving to get the words out.

“I know, I think we’re on the same page.” Lance replied, pulling you in for a hug, the blanket finally beginning to feel warm again. 

“I want you to be my last too.” You laughed, wondering if he’d get the reference. 

“Seriously? You’re quoting one direction right now?” Lance asked, exhaling as he felt your body against him, warming him from the cold he hadn’t even realized he was feeling. 

“Always the right time to quote One Direction.” You laughed, knowing you were the reason he’d secretly be listening to them now. 

“That reference barely made any sense y’know, technically they talk about wanting to be the listeners last first kiss, not their first and last kiss.” He corrected you with a cocky grin you could practically hear.

“Anndd you ruined the moment.” 

“You’re welcome.” 

-

-

-

-

-

A/N: I'm so sorry for posting this so late! completely forgot about it, hope you like it nonetheless<3

Also, no I have no shame throwing in a One Direction reference in like that heh

As usual, criticism and requests can all be sent in through the ask box!

[strangersmunsons]

christmas wrapping

“When what to my wondering eyes should appear in the line is that guy I’ve been chasing all year!” eddie munson x reader, ~1500 words

“I love the holidays, I love Christmas,” you mutter to yourself through gritted teeth as you wrestle with the roll of icy-blue paper. Cartoon snowmen and polar bears stare back at you with their unmoving little eyes, mocking your frustration.

Gift wrapping isn’t your strong suit. It’s like as soon as you pick up the scissors, you lose all motor function in your hands. The presents you hand out end up covered in more Scotch tape than they are actual paper.

Armed with a pair of big kitchen shears, you glide the blade as carefully as possible through the paper. The rectangle you’re trying to cut is almost free from the roll when the paper snags, and instead of following the clean line you were aiming for, it wrinkles and veers to the side, leaving you with a huge shred in the corner. 

An angry squeal escapes from your lips and you set the scissors down on the plush living room rug. You close your eyes and count to five, taking deep breaths in an effort to calm yourself down.

You swear you’re not usually this grumpy during the holidays. But it seems like everything that you normally love doing in the buildup to Christmas has just been so terribly exhausting.

First, there was a new promotion at work. While the better pay was wonderful, you were slightly unprepared for the extra stress that came with your new position. Every day it felt like you were scrambling to stay on top of everything, putting in extra hours just to make sure nothing slipped through the cracks. It left you with hardly any time to get your shopping done, so you ended up having to take multiple trips to the department store — always just before it closed, God bless retail employees for having the restraint not to kill you right where you stood — wandering around to try and pick out suitable gifts for everyone. Not to mention that there are a few you ordered from a catalogue, which are still nowhere to be seen, despite the fact that it’s Christmas Eve and you needed them like, yesterday. 

As if all this wasn’t hectic enough, you had been positively bombarded with invitations. Three separate work parties — office, departmental, and company-wide. Then dinner and drinks with the coworkers you actually like. White elephant with your buddies from college. Ornament exchange with the cousins from your Mom’s side, Secret Santa with the cousins from your Dad’s side. A Christmas movie night with your childhood friends.

The list went on. 

Finally, you’d put your foot down. No more parties, no more “fun holiday activities” that were starting to give you more anxiety than joy — you needed a fucking break.

That’s how you ended up alone on Christmas Eve, finishing up the last of your gift-wrapping. Soon you would tuck the final present under your tree, then stick the world’s smallest turkey into the oven, and lay on the couch waiting for it to be done, all in beautiful solitude. You even took the phone off the hook, just in case.

After another brief struggle, you finally manage to cut a substantial amount of paper to cover this last gift. You fumble with the box and clumsily wrap it up, sealing it with copious amounts of tape. There’s a flood of relief that washes through you when it's finally under the tree; it’s as though a weight has been lifted off of your shoulders.

When that’s finished, you bustle about in the kitchen to make your dinner for one. Bing Crosby croons in the background as you make small portions of your favorite holiday foods, and the sweet fragrance of a cinnamon-scented candle helps boost your mood even further. Gentle snow flurries whirl outside the window.

The afternoon passes by in peace, until you hit one little roadblock: you forgot the cranberries. You lean with your hip against the kitchen counter, tapping a rhythm on the tile with your nails while you debate your next move. Dinner without them isn’t a huge deal, really, you suppose you could do without them, but…there does happen to be a 24-hour grocery store that should still be open. And it’s only a few minutes drive…

Hey, what the hell. You’re rather partial to cranberries.

So you grudgingly slip your feet into your boots, and get bundled up in your winter coat. You jam a woolly hat on your head, sling your purse over your shoulder, and head out the door.

In less than ten you’re at the store. It’s swamped with other last-minute shoppers like yourself, all looking to buy that last ingredient they forgot, eager to return home to their families and friends. There’s a pang in your heart as you watch them mill about; maybe you were being too rash when you decided to spend Christmas Eve alone. Maybe you shouldn’t have let the stress of the season get to you.

God, you feel like the Grinch. Or worse — Ebenezer Scrooge.

You sigh as you pluck a can of cranberries from the shelf, and then unenthusiastically make your way to the checkout aisle. The line is long, clogged up as the overworked cashiers try their best to deal with the onslaught of antsy customers as best they can.

You’re so busy internally sympathizing with the employees (and also feeling guilty for adding to their burden by being there yourself), you almost don’t feel the light tap on your shoulder.

You turn on your heel in surprise, and experience a squirm of pleasure when you see who it is: Eddie Munson.

Eddie Munson, who you met about a year ago and liked immensely, but still somehow…failed to make something happen with. 

It wasn’t for lack of trying! The two of you had met at a bar where his band had been playing a show; when it was over, he bought you a drink and you talked through the rest of the night, until the bartender all but kicked you out. He left you with his phone number and a kiss on the cheek. You wanted to find time for him, you really did, but it had been a busy year.

You played phone tag for months, always trying to set something up, but never managed to follow through. Life had a funny habit of getting in the way. Even when you two bumped into each other in person again — and it happened more than once — there never seemed to be a time when you were both free. The exception of course being last Halloween, when he was supposed to pick you up for a party, which you're sure would have been a blast...if his car hadn't broken down and derailed you yet again.

And then, when you got your promotion, your love life went on the back burner. Any prospects of going on a date with Eddie pretty much flew out the window.

But now here he is, in the flesh. And God, is he cute.

His hair is damp and a little disheveled, probably the result of snowflakes catching in the curls and melting. He’s not wearing a hat, but there’s a red knit scarf knotted around his neck, trailing down his big black overcoat. 

“Hey, you,” he says, rosy cheeks dimpling as he gives you a huge smile. 

“Hi,” you reply brightly, overwhelmed with sudden happiness. “Merry Christmas.”

“And you as well, sweetheart. Forgot the cranberries, I see,” he says, pointing at the lone can clutched in your gloved fingers. 

“Guilty,” you shrug, unable to keep the silly grin off your face. 

He laughs, and his chocolate-brown eyes crinkle at the corners. “Well, I can hardly tease you for that, now can I?” He fishes around in the plastic shopping basket hanging from the crook of his arm, and comes up with an identical can.

“Would you look at that? Great minds think alike. Or don’t think alike, I guess.”

“Truer words were never spoken.”

The two of you inch forward in the line.

“So, you got big plans this Christmas or what?” he asks, eyes twinkling.

“Actually, no,” you admit. “I’ll visit my family tomorrow, but for tonight it’s just me. I love the holidays, I do, but I just didn’t have it in me to go all-out this year.”

Eddie stops midstep. “You’re spending Christmas Eve alone?”

You shrug uncertainly, once again doubting your plans. “Yeah.”

He cocks his head to the side, playful smirk on his lips. “What a coincidence. So am I.” He shakes the grocery basket, contents rattling around inside. “S’why I came to get the goods. I’m fending for myself tonight.”

You’re a little taken aback by that. “Really? What about your uncle?”

“Wayne? Well, his, ah, lady friend invited him to her family dinner up near Indianapolis. They invited me to tag along, but I said no. Didn’t wanna impose.”

“Oh. I see.”

In a moment’s pause, some understanding passes between the two of you. Eddie busts out laughing again, and you don’t have to ask him what’s funny.

Giggling yourself now, you straighten up and look him square in the face. “Eddie,” you say, trying and failing to keep your tone serious, “Would you like to join me for dinner?”

“It would be my pleasure.”

Eddie abandons his shopping basket. (You’ve no idea what he’d been planning on making, exactly; you glimpsed a package of hamburger helper and a jar of pickles, amongst other things.)

But he does insist on paying for your cranberries.

[milkyypastels]

🍼 My Regression Moods 🍼

🧸 The Sleepy Bear 🧸

♡ grabby hands grabby hands grabby hands

♡ yawning constantly but complaining i'm not tired

♡ fuzzy blankets

♡ cravings for any milk-based drink

♡ the sound of rain hitting my roof at night

♡ having to double check i don't accidentally baby babble in my texts / emails

🌧 Vent Regression 🌧

♡ that bubble in the back of your throat when you're holding back tears

♡ opting for non-verbal communication

♡ watching comfort asmr videos to drown everything out

♡ crying , even because of typically non-sad things

♡ the empty feeling you get after you leave a movie theatre

🎀 Typical Toddler 🎀

♡ " !!!! "

♡ losing track of time

♡ the soft snap of cracking open an old wii game

♡ opening a fresh crayon pack , and then insisting on organizing them by colour

♡ cuddling my cat until he gets annoyed

♡ “ can you order for me ?? ”

♡ oversized sweaters to cuddle up in

🫧 Needy Baby 🫧

♡ texting my cg every little thing i accomplish for extra attention

♡ bouncy legs + tappy feet ♡ becoming confused more easily

♡ the smell of childhood i get when i bury my face into old stuffies

♡ binge-watching agere youtubers to alleviate loneliness

[roseglazedlens]

I lieu of October coming up, how would some of the resident evil characters spend Halloween with the reader? ♡♡♡

𝗛𝗢𝗪 𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗬 𝗦𝗣𝗘𝗡𝗗 𝗛𝗔𝗟𝗟𝗢𝗪𝗘𝗘𝗡 ✧.*

┇LEON S. KENNEDY┇CARLOS OLIVEIRA┇ETHAN WINTERS┇ ┇CLAIRE REDFIELD┇ASHLEY GRAHAM┇ADA WONG┇ content: SFW! Ada's part is slightly suggestive! a/n: thank you for the request! I had problem with some of these for a while, but with halloween around the corner i found the festive vibes for this!! hope you enjoy, dear! thank you for requesting again!! « masterlist┇reblogs appreciated! »

LEON S. KENNEDY

Leon doesn't usually dress up. It's out of the way for him to do so usually. But he can be bribed with a good meal and hug.

Old man thinks he's too cool to enjoy Halloween. But he actually really enjoyed dressing up in his low budget vampire suit from the discounted section of a Halloween store.

This is the only time in the year he would slick back his hair with gel in spite of how you think it looks really good on him, framing his features and accentuating his blue eyes. He is very stubborn and likes his hair down.

Now he wears the same costume every year. So much that you're getting really sick of it. He insists that it makes him look good (and it does)

He tries to act cool, but he hates horror movies. When you are watching it together, his hand will be clasping your arm tight, shaking a little.

"Are you sure you don't want to watch something else?" You would ask, and he would respond with: "Pfft. Me? I'm not scared at all."

CLAIRE REDFIELD

Halloween is Claire's favourite holiday! She LOVES it.

And so does the kids in her neighbourhood. She always has a huge smile on her face with trick or treaters, will compliment everyone's costumes and give away extra treats.

I see her going all out for Halloween parties. She learnt SFX makeup and a bit of sewing so that her costumes and make-up are really scary.

Which is a stark contrast with her brother, Chris. He thinks dressing up is a chore and a waste of time. When he does dress-up, it's always in uniform (e.g. firefighter, cop). He thinks it makes him look cool. (He's not wrong but, what is up with Chris and uniforms?)

Already planned out her costumes for the next five years (Ideas keep changing too). She definitely wishes there are more days in Halloween because she has so many ideas.

CARLOS OLIVEIRA

Carlos is a menace during Halloween.

In no way is Carlos the best at making costumes or doing scary make-up, but Carlos is very creative.

Years ago, Carlos disguised himself as a stuffed doll sitting on the porch. Gave all the kids the fright of their life. He will watch them scram away in fear, and bellows a laugh. (traumatising kids is his favourite pasttime)

Another year, he devised a mechanism that springs up a shadowed figure anytime someone rings his doorbell.

He became infamous in his neighbourhood for his antics, and it's now an attraction for both kids and grown-ups every Halloween.

I also see him and Claire becoming really good friends from their united love for Halloween!

ASHLEY GRAHAM

I headcanon Ashley to crochet, so with Halloween coming, I see her crocheting a spooky themed sweater top, or a granny square bag to embrace the season.

I think Ashley loves to host Halloween parties. With the size of her dad's house, she can accomodate a lot of friends. Often going over the top with themes and decorations.

This year's theme is Harry Potter. She custom ordered a 3 metre (10 feet) tall animatronic of a Dementor in her party and everyone loved it!

She also loves bingeing spooky movies during Halloween. Ashley loves horror movies so much! I don't see her screaming at horror movies, she has grown an immunity to them from watching too many.

ETHAN WINTERS

We already know Ethan has meticulously planned for Halloween almost a month in advance just for Rose.

He is determined to make Rose experience the best childhood, and that includes Halloween too.

Ethan loves matching costumes (would never admit it though), especially with Rose and you too.

When he finishes dressing up Rose, he snaps a million pictures of her, claiming he will show it to Rose when she's all grown up. And Rose will say "Dad, I don't want to take any more photos. The treats are gonna run out!"

Very protective. If anyone has a scary costume, he will steer Rose away from the scary man. Same for people who are underdressed, or is just generally creepy. Not on his watch.

ADA WONG

Halloween is not Ada's cup of tea. She goes out of her way to avoid going out during these days.

For trick or treaters, she leaves a candy bowl on her porch for kids to help themselves. Ada enjoys seeing the silly costumes the kids wear, but she despises interacting with them.

If you are special to Ada, she will put on a sexy Halloween outfit in the privacy of your quarters just for you. She won't take responsibility for whatever you guys might do afterwards. But those are just for your eyes only.

Ada watches horror movies with a blank face. At this point, nothing phases her anymore. I think she'll find them boring and slightly frustrating, with the stupid things the protagonists do to get themselves in danger. She rather watch true crime instead.

thanks for reading! come check out my other works. —yours truly, rose. tags: @valsthea @kennedyswhore @emilzke @daydreamrot @j3llyd0nut @ovaryacted @obsolescent © roseglazedlens — please do not repost, plagiarise, or feed to ai.