#by the time i noticed it it was too late to make changes

[requiemforthepoets]

Would you be interested in writing something for Oscar? I feel like he would be the perfect guy to have your firsts with, so understanding and cute like imagine having your first kiss with him. He would be so understanding and would kiss you with so much care and ugh I need me a man like him☹️ would you be down to write something like that?

in a world full of wrong, you’re the only thing that’s right 𖦹 OP81

PAIRINGS: oscar piastri x female!reader

SUMMARY: the idea of falling in love scares you, but at the same time, you long for it. wanting to experience how it feels like having someone by your side.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: thank you for your request! i’m sorry that this one took days, i had already finished the original version of this one, but i was not happy with it so i scraped it off and decided to write a new one. i had also took some creative liberty if it’s alright with you. i hope that this one is up to your expectations. enjoy! :)

REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WORD COUNT: 2.7k

WARNINGS: not proofread, typos, no use of y/n, traditional upbringing, reader is an only daughter, overthinking, anxiety, fear of falling in love, and some fluff

You had never been in a relationship before Oscar. In fact, you had no idea what being in love was even supposed to feel like at all. So when your friends came to you, venting about their partners or asking for some advice, you would just sit there, nodding along, and pretending to understand everything that they were saying. But the truth was that you were clueless. You had never experienced the ups and down that they spoke of. No fights over silly things, no making up with heartfelt apologies, no lingering fear of being left behind. Part of you had always wondered what it would feel like to have someone special, someone to lean on, but another part of you was terrified–utterly terrified of the vulnerability, terrified of the idea that maybe one day, that person you end up with could hurt you.

You had been raised in a traditional household, the kind where dating wasn’t just for fun, but that is meant to last with the intention of marriage. Your parents always told you to be very careful, that relationships were serious and sacred. It doesn’t help that you are an only child as well, so your parents can be really overprotective of you. So, when you found yourself daydreaming about having a boyfriend, the thought would always come with a sense of guilt. You’d see your friends with their partners and wish, even just for a second, that you could have that too. But then again, these fears would creep in–what if he cheated? What if he wasn’t who you thought he was? What if you weren’t enough? The doubts swirled around in your head constantly. But then, everything changed when you met Oscar.

You met him in a way that you never expected you would. It was during a vacation in Monaco with some friends. The week had been loud and chaotic–late night dinners, laughter, and a bit of madness here and there. Needing some peace and quiet, you decided to stroll around by yourself. The streets of Monaco were breathtaking, and you let yourself get lost in the gorgeous scenery, with your thoughts floating somewhere far away. So far that you didn’t even notice the guy speeding towards you on his bike. Before you knew it, he swerved, narrowly avoiding a collision, but you lost your balance and tumbled to the ground.

“Shit! Are you okay?” The voice was concerned but soft, and when you looked up, you saw a pair of worried eyes staring down at you. He had already jumped off his bike and was holding out his hand to help you up. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you there,” Oscar said, pulling you to your feet gently. His touch was warm and cautious, as if he was afraid you’d break.

“No, no, I should have been paying attention,” you quickly brushed it off, though your heart was racing for more reasons than just the fall. Up close, he was…well, you weren’t sure if it was the adrenaline or something else, but he was strikingly handsome. You didn’t know if it was love at first sight or from the shock of falling, but something inside you shifted in that moment.

“You sure you’re okay? I feel terrible about this.” He frowned slightly, scanning you for any sign of injury. “Let me take you to a hospital, just in case.”

You laughed nervously. “I’m fine, really. There’s no need for that.”

He didn’t seem convinced at all, but after some insistence, Oscar backed off. “Alright, if you’re sure. At least let me make it up to you. How about some coffee? My treat.”

Well, that’s pretty much how it all began. One coffee turned into another, then into long conversations about everything and nothing. You couldn’t quite believe how easy it was to talk to him. Usually you’d find yourself nervous around guys, but he was kind, thoughtful, and never made you feel uncomfortable and pressured. Slowly, those coffee dates turned into something more, and before you know it, Oscar had asked you to be his girlfriend. Though you couldn’t help but cringe when you thought back to the moment you said yes to him. You had never been so flustered, unsure of how to respond, that instead of a kiss like a normal person, you just gave him a hug. A damn hug. You had felt his arms wrap around you tightly, his laughter vibrating in his chest.

“So I take it that it’s a yes, then?” he had asked, his voice teasing but soft.

You had nodded into his shoulder, very embarrassed beyond belief. But Oscar being Oscar, he didn't care. He hadn’t even brought it up afterwards, as if he’d expect nothing more than that simple embrace–and that’s what you loved about him. Oscar never pushed you, never made you feel like you always had to rush into anything. He was patient and understanding in a way that felt comforting. Sometimes, late at night, you would lie next to him, just staring at the ceiling, wondering how you got so lucky. The fears you once had, the doubts that plagued your mind–none of them seemed to matter anymore every time you are with him.

One evening, after spending the day together exploring the city, you found yourselves sitting on a park bench, watching the sunset. It was quiet, the kind of comfortable silence that you loved and felt like home.

“Do you ever wonder if this is all real?” you asked him, your voice barely above a whisper. Oscar turned to look at you, his expression gentle. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know…sometimes I just can’t believe this is happening. I never thought I’d be in a relationship like this. Felt overwhelming and surreal sometimes.” he smiled, reaching out to take your hand in his. “I get it. I never thought I’d meet someone like you either.”

You blushed at his words, feeling the warmth of his hand in yours. “You really mean that?”

“Of course I do,” he said, squeezing your hand lightly. “You don’t have to worry, okay? I’m not going anywhere.”

At that moment, you knew. You knew very well that all the fears you once had, all the time you had spent overthinking and countless anxiety–they didn’t matter anymore. None of it matters anymore. With Oscar, you felt safe, loved, and secured in a way you had never imagined. He wasn’t just your first boyfriend, he was your first in everything–the first person to show you what love really felt like.

Six months into your relationship with Oscar, you had managed to avoid what most people would consider a natural part of being a couple–kissing him on the lips. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to, hell you definitely do want to kiss him so badly, to the point you had daydreamed about it plenty of times, thinking about how his lips might feel against yours. But every time you thought about it, your mind would spin, and your nerves would take over. You’d never kissed anyone before, and the idea of messing up, of completely not knowing what to do, terrified the shit out of you. Sure, you had kissed him on the cheeks, hugged him endlessly, but never once had your lips touched his. You couldn’t help but wonder how Oscar was so patient with you, how he never complained or pushed for more, he was very understanding in a way that made you feel safe. Sometimes, you even questioned how he could be satisfied or survived with just a few cheek kisses.

Yes, you had been raised in such a traditional household, but Oscar was special–so incredibly special–that the pressure you put on yourself to make the moment perfect felt overwhelming. Still, you knew that at some point, you’d have to gather the courage to just do it. But every time you tried to psych yourself up, you’d just freeze, thinking about it drove you crazy. There would be times where you’d hear people joke about you being a prude, or wonder aloud how anyone could go long without kissing their partner on the lips, but the truth was, you were just terrified.

Then came Baku. It was Oscar’s second win at the Baku Grand Prix, and you had traveled to the race with his family to cheer him on. The excitement in the air was evident as you stood by the barricades at the Parc Fermé, anxiously waiting for him to climb out of his car. Your heart raced as you watched him pull into the P1 space, his car coming to a stop, and pulled himself out of the cockpit.

Your heart nearly stopped when he stumbled slightly as he got on the top of his car, and you had to suppress the urge to vault over the barrier to make sure he was okay. But Oscar quickly steadied himself, he then pulled off his helmet and balaclava in one smooth motion, his hair a sweaty mess, but his eyes bright with victory. Oscar spotted you instantly, a wide grin breaking out across his face as he ran quickly towards you, and before you knew it, you were wrapped up in his arms. You held him tightly, feeling the energy and adrenaline coursing through him as he hugged you back.

“I’m so proud of you,” you whispered against his shoulder, the words almost lost in the noise of the crowd. “You were incredible.”

Oscar pulled back just enough to look at you, his hands finding their place gently on your cheeks. His thumb brushed your skin softly, and for a brief moment, the noise of the world around you seemed to fade away. He gazed at you with so much love in his eyes, the kind that made your heart flutter. Oscar had always been patient, understanding, never once pressuring you into anything you weren’t ready for. He knew about your fears, about how you hadn’t had your first kiss yet, but you had never told him why. Even without knowing the full reason, he had always respected your space and waited for you to feel comfortable.

But something was different today. The way he looked at you was different, and you felt it too–a shift inside you, a calmness you hadn’t expected. You weren’t scared at this moment, not with him. Somehow, Oscar seemed to sense that change too. He smiled softly, his hands still cradling your face as he leaned in just slightly.

“Is this okay?” he asked quietly, giving you the chance to back out if you needed to.

Your heart raced in your chest, feeling like it was gonna leap out from your chest, but for the first time in months, it wasn’t out of fear. It was out of love, out of excitement, out of knowing that this was the moment. You smiled up at him, nodding gently. That was all he needed.

Oscar’s touch remained as gentle as ever, his hands caressing your face as he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. It was familiar, comforting, something he’d done a thousand times before. Then, he kissed the tip of your nose, making you giggle softly, your nerves starting to melt away. Then finally, he leaned down and kissed you on the lips.

The world seemed to stop as his lips met yours, soft and warm, and everything you had feared about this moment vanished. It wasn’t awkward or overwhelming like you had imagined–it was simple, perfect. Oscar kissed you gently, not rushing, not pushing for more than you were ready for. It was the kind of kiss that made you feel safe, like he was letting you know that this was just the beginning, and there was no need to rush. When he pulled back slightly, his forehead rested against yours, both of you smiling softly, sharing a private moment amidst the chaos of the race celebrations around you.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Oscar teased you lightly, his voice warm and full of affection. You laughed softly, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. “I guess not,” you whispered, hands still resting against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingertips.

Oscar smiled, kissing your forehead again, and you knew in that moment that no matter how scared you had been before, being with him made everything feel right.

Later that evening, after all the chaos of the podium celebrations, press interviews, and flood of congratulatory messages, you found yourself in a much quieter setting with Oscar and his family. The energy from the race still buzzed in the air, but there was a sense of calm now, a comfortable warmth that filled the room as you all gathered around for a private celebration. You felt so at home with his family, like you were part of the family, and in moments like these, you couldn’t help but think of how lucky you were to have Oscar and this incredible group of people who treated you with so much love.

Dinner was simple but perfect, the conversation flowing easily between stories of the race and light-hearted teasing. You were sitting beside Oscar, with your hand resting comfortably under the table, something that felt so natural now, like an unspoken connection between the two of you. He would glance over at you every now and then, giving you that boyish smile that made your heart skip a beat every time. The moment you shared earlier at the track still lingered in your mind–your first kiss. It felt surreal, but in the best way possible.

After the dinner, Oscar had asked if he can spend the remainder of the night with you alone, to have some private moment. His family agreed and a few teasing had been made as well, but you and Oscar just laughed. By then, you decided to return to the hotel, to have some private and alone time with each other. Oscar sat beside you on the couch, his arms draped casually around your shoulders, pulling you close. His fingers played lightly with a strand of your hair as you leaned into him, your head resting on his chest. The bustling noise of the city seemed to fade into the background as you focused on the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath you.

“You know, I’ve been thinking about that kiss all night,” Oscar whispered suddenly, his voice low so only you could hear him. Your cheeks flushed, and you turned slightly to look up at him, your lips curling into a shy smile. “Yeah? What about our kiss?”

He grinned, eyes twinkling with amusement. “It was worth the wait. I’ve been waiting for that moment since the day I met you. Being it during my win made it more special.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes playfully, though the butterflies in your stomach refused to settle. “You’re just saying that.” Oscar chuckled softly, his thumb brushing gently over your shoulder. “I’m serious. I’m not sure you realize how patient I’ve had to be. But you’re worth every second.”

You felt your heart was about to combust at his words, and you felt yourself melt a little more into his side. There was something about the way Oscar always knew how to make you feel special, how he could say the simplest things and make you feel like the most important person in the world.

You smiled up at him, your voice soft as you said, “I’m really glad it was you. I’ve always been scared of what it would be like, but you made it…perfect.”

Oscar’s expression softened, his eyes full of that warmth and affection you had come to adore. “That’s all I wanted. For it to feel right for you.” Leaning up slightly, you placed a gentle kiss on his cheek, feeling a surge of affection as you did so. “Thank you for waiting.”

“I’d wait a lifetime for you if I had to.” he smiled, resting his forehead against yours for a moment before pressing a soft kiss to your temple.

For the first time, you felt like you were exactly where you were meant to be.

[inkdrinkerworld]

hi fawn! hope you're doing ok

so, sunshine!reader and post prison!spencer, but r is all serious during work situations and spencer only finds out about this sunshiney side over their time together ☝️

Spencer thinks you’re a hardass and he likes it, but he’d be a horrible profiler if he didn’t realize that there was more under the surface.

You’re rigid and unmoving in most everything you do in the field, and you’re never wrong. But the minute it’s not work, you’re lighter in a way he can’t put into words.

Spencer notices what he terms, ‘the changes,’ during your mornings.

You’ll make his coffee the way he likes it and set it on his desk, or you’ll bring extra of whatever you baked over the weekend for him and the office.

Also, on some occasions you walk in on the phone with this grin that he swears lights up the whole room and your voice light and sweet as whipped sugar.

He’s fond of those mornings for your smile but he’s also raging jealous, that much he can admit to himself, of whoever is on the other end of the phone making you smile like that.

“Morning, Spence.” You’re late today, only two minutes but over the year you’ve worked there Spencer knows you hate it.

Maybe it’s why your face is set in a serious frown as you set your bags down. When you yawn and stretch he thinks maybe not.

“Hi, how was your first night back on Eastern Standard time?”

You sigh, headed into the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. “Hell. I didn’t realize I’d be that jet lagged.”

Spencer coos something adorable, you feel it in your chest. He’s quite possibly the sweetest man you’ve ever met.

It’s possibly why you allowed yourself to get so close to him, why you’d become friends with Spencer and why you’re leaning into him as he stands next to you, your temple hovering over his shoulder.

He can smell your perfume this close and only hopes that it rubs off onto his shirt. It’s a scent so much like yourself he wonders if you realized that when you’d bought it.

It’s spicy and then after a couple seconds, amber and vanilla and something floral he can’t place takes over- it’s exactly you.

Spencer spots the change in demeanor the second on of the newbies pass by, the way you stand straighter and lean away from his space a little.

Still, he trails a hand from his side to the small of your back, a shiver racing down your spine as his hand touches you. Spencer bites back a smile- always pleased to be reminded by how he affects you the way you do him.

“Maybe if we’ve not got much going on here I can drive you home early.” The words are soft enough only you hear them, and there’s a touch of something you can place in his voice. Adoration? Love? You really shouldn’t assume.

“If Emily approves it.”

Spencer shrugs, mixing your coffee the way you like and handing you the warm mug, handle out towards you. “Or I can get you home first and tell you her you weren’t feeling well.”

You narrow your eyes as you take a sip of the coffee, relief and comfort flowing through you as your shoulders sag. Even you can’t quite make your coffee this well.

“Ask permission later, essentially?” You tease, Spencer smiles, a private smile only for you as you start making your way back to your desks together.

“For you? Yeah. She won’t mind either way.” It’s true, but the idea of Spencer possibly getting in trouble or going over Emily’s head to take care of you does make your heart flutter in a way you hadn’t expected.

“You flirt too much,” you say with a smile. Spencer hasn’t even shown you the half of it. “C’mon, I wanna hear my morning facts about orcas and ladybugs. Don’t keep a girl waiting.”

Spencer touches your shoulda as he gets past you, just to get his insect book and the orca book he’d gotten just for you. “Oh I’d never, honey.”

[harksness]

A/N: i was so feral over detective harkness i wrote a quick lil smut fic (thanx to the rings anon who gave me an idea for this lol <3)

also I KNOW SHES TECHNICALLY AGNES HERE SHHHH JUST GO WITH IT

Warnings: SMUT, oral, Agatha receiving, hair pulling, degradation and praise. Dom! Agatha as per usual. Sub! Reader as per usual.

WC: 2.1k

Carefully, you push the door to Agatha’s office closed behind you and twist the lock. She doesn’t even notice that you entered, hunched over her desk with papers and files sprawled out beneath her, pen clenched in her left hand as she bends over the mess. Strands of hair had slipped out of her ponytail, hanging along the sides of her face.

Once in a while you’ll surprise her at work like this. She’s been so stressed lately that she hasn’t been sleeping through the night. That's not abnormal for your wife, she is a bit of a workaholic afterall, but sometimes she just needs you to drag her back into reality. And that's been hard to do with your conflicting work schedules and her long days lately.

Slowly, so you don't startle her, you walk over to Agatha’s desk. Her eyes glance up to you but don’t seem to process you right away as the flick back down to her work, before landing back on you again. As the realization finally sinks in, a smile grows on her features.

“Hey, hot stuff.”

Your heart leaps into your throat at the way she shoots you a wide grin, legs spreading as she leans back in her office chair to look up at you.

“Hey, even hotter stuff.”

She snorts at your flirting, throwing her pen down onto her desk. It makes you feel a little too smug that it's so easy for her to forget her work when you're around.

“You don’t look in the mirror as much as you should. You’re obviously the hotter stuff.”

She argues lightheartedly as you turn and lean against the desk next to her, the plush of your ass digging into the edge of the tabletop as you smile down at her.

“Well I could say the same thing to you.”

Again, she snorts.

“I’ve barely slept the last few days, my eye bags are huge, my hair is a mess and I’ve got stains all down the front of my frumpy flannel. I’m not hot right now.”

Agatha's eyes are tired and her words make your heart ache in your chest. She's always the most beautiful thing in the world, the details don't matter. She's just always stunning.

You lean in towards her and take her face in your hands, her eyes fluttering closed as she leans into your touch.

“You’re always hot, baby.. It doesn’t matter the circumstances.”

You coo at her, a little laugh escaping her lips as you lean in and press a kiss to her forehead. You decide to speak up before she can continue arguing you, knowing her stubbornness wouldn't let this go unless you changed the subject.

“You look stressed, my love..”

Agatha groans at your words, frustrated.

“There’s just a lot going on right now.. Yknow?”

You nod your head in understanding. When you married her, you knew this is what you were signing up for. She’s obsessed with her job, gone for long periods of time and unable to take her mind off of her work. And that dedication is something you love about her regardless. You’re okay with being her anchor, tethering her and bringing her back to reality. She always floats back to you when you pull her back down to Earth, and that’s all you could ever ask for. 

You’ll happily keep doing this for the rest of your life.

Leaning down, you press your lips against her cheek in a lingering kiss, lips ghosting against her skin as you speak.

“Why don’t you let me help you take your mind off of things for a bit..”

You whisper against her soft skin, and she lets out an amused noise as you continue to kiss her, your lips moving to trace along her jawline as you guide her head to tilt to the side.

“Baby… Fuck.. We can’t-”

As she says that her hands are reaching for you, grabbing you and pulling you closer. You smile against her skin.

“Are you sure you want me to stop? I will if you really want me to..”

She doesn't answer, torn between doing what she wants and the responsible thing.

You pull back, admiring her beautiful, tired features for a moment. She looks up at you with love pooling in her eyes as you trace your thumb affectionately along her cheek, under the deep purple bags creasing under her pretty bright eyes before placing a lingering kiss on her lips.

Then, you quickly glance behind you at the door you locked on the way in, ensuring it’s still secure before you drop to your knees in front of her, right below her desk and between her spread legs. The firm carpet is rough on your knees but you don't care, the woman before you is more important. She groans and lets out a louder curse at the sight of you before her.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve imagined this..”

She breathes the words out and you smile up at her, leaning forward and running your hands up her clothed thighs.

“Then let me make your fantasy come true, baby.. Please?”

You beg sweetly, batting your eyelashes up at her. She digs her teeth into her bottom lip, eyes flickering greedily over you as she contemplates what to do. 

“Fuck, you’re worth getting fired over.”

You’re grinning ear to ear as you lean forward, running your hands from her knees all the way up her thighs and to the waist of her pants. She watches you with eager eyes, greedy smile etched into her pretty pink lips as she raises her hips off the chair.

Quickly, your hands scramble to undo her pants before grabbing the hem and pulling them down and off her legs, underwear and all, leaving her bare for you as more and more of her soft, pale skin is exposed.

She laughs softly at your eagerness, raising a hand to card sweetly through your locks.

“You begged for this, sweet girl.. Now, you better do a good job if you’re willing to risk my career over it.”

She teases and you lean in, holding her gaze as you press a lingering, open mouth kiss to the inside of her knee. You’re a bit insulted by her words.

“I would never leave you unsatisfied..”

You mumble against her plush skin, taking your time as you softly, firmly press your open mouth against her thigh over and over again as you trail kisses further up her legs.

Here and there you bite softly, dragging your teeth across the sensitive flesh. You feel yourself turning into putty beneath her at every soft gasp that slips past her lips, one of her hands mindlessly toying with your hair.

You start to repeat the actions on her other thigh, wanting to lavish her with sweet kisses and worship her when she lets out a frustrated sigh. Agatha winds her fingers into your hair, slumping down even further and spreading her legs wider as she pushes your mouth against her waiting cunt. You groan, immediately parting your lips as you breathe her in eagerly.

“No teasing, sweetheart… You’re gonna be a good girl and give me exactly what I want, aren’t you?”

She coos down at you, soothingly rubbing her fingers against your scalp. Immediately you let out a needy noise against her and nod your head, desperate to please.

“Good fuckin girl.”

Her voice is low as you drag your tongue through her wet folds. She lets out a controlled, quiet noise, only loud enough for you to hear as you lick up her sweetness. Your eyes roll into the back of your head at the taste of her heavy on your tongue.

You begin toying with her clit, first using your tongue to ghost over it in experimental patterns as you try to wind her up. Her chair creaks as she shifts a bit, hand tightening in your hair. 

You can’t get enough of the taste of her. Heavy and metallic and so good, you don't think it could ever be enough. You’d live between her thighs, eating and surviving off of nothing but her pussy for the rest of your life if you could. You make out to kiss the little bud, puckering your lips as you drag them over it before opening your mouth and sucking it between your lips. 

She groans at that, throwing her head back against the back of her seat as you flick your tongue along her clit in quick passes, groaning against her wet cunt as you do. You feel her arousal soaking your lips, and you want to lick up every sweet drop.

“Fuck, baby..”

Agatha curses, heavy breaths dropping from her lips as she looks down at you with lidded eyes. You look back up at her, squirming desperately from your place between her legs.

“You’re such a slut, just for me, hm? So desperate for me to fuck your mouth that you had to crawl under my desk and beg for it, hm?”

Agatha's voice is breathy and erratic as she rests one arm against her chair, canting her hips up against your waiting mouth, her hand buried in your hair and forcing you down and against her with each thrust. You groan against her cunt, breathing heavily as she grinds herself against your tongue. 

You just hold your tongue out for her, letting her guide you however she needs as she fucks herself against your mouth.

“Say it, say you’re my slut with your mouth full of my pussy..”

You groan at her words, nails biting into her calves as you gargle out the words that are muffled by her cunt. She laughs softly, dropping her hips back down onto the chair for a moment and pulling your head back. You heave for air, a stupid smile on your lips as you feel her wetness soaking your lips and chin.

“Say it again.”

Agatha demands, a sadistic grin on her features as she sharply pulls your head back by the fistfull of your hair. You can’t control the moan that bursts past your lips as the delicious sting settles across your scalp.

“I’m your slut, Agatha.. Just yours.. I belong to you..”

You manage to heave the words between breaths and she grins down at you with a satisfied smile on her lips.

“Good girl. Now, get back to work, slut..”

She demands, leaning back into her chair once again and you’re eagerly diving back between her soft thighs, warm and dewey with a thin layer of sweat. Her moans are more frequent now, soft and quiet and deep as they escape her lips. You suck her clit between your teeth gently, flicking your tongue over the nub as quickly as you can.

“Ooooh.. Yes..”

Agatha breathes out, jolting a bit as she raises her hips off of her seat, pressing your needy mouth harder against her wet cunt as she begins to rut against your tongue desperately. You moan into her, meeting each thrust, making sure each movement of your tongue on her clit is calculated and precise.

She gasps sharply, freezing and desperately smushing your face harder against her. You know she’s close, and with that you harshly suck on her clit, hands desperately pawing at her soft thighs as they squeeze around your head, her mouth hung open in a silent moan as she curls in on you, curses dropping from her lips.

Your whole world stops and she’s the only thing that exists as she seizes up, sharp gasps escaping her lips as her eyes pinch shut, body tensing all around you as she cums against your waiting mouth. You watch her with wide eyes, drinking in every little reaction.

A strand of her lovely brown hair sticks to the side of her face, her long, pale neck exposed. You just want to pepper kisses along every inch of her skin. The way her fingers are tightly gripping your hair burns your scalp, but you revel in the sting because it’s just an expression of her pleasure as she cums for you.

With one last relieved gasp her grip on your head loosens and she collapses into her chair, the wheels clanking as she throws her weight back down onto it. She starts breathily laughing, raising one hand to push her stray hairs behind her ears while she rubs soothing circles against your scalp with the other. 

“Ahh.. You’re right.. You never leave me unsatisfied. You’re so good for me, sweet girl..”

She coos, smiling lazily down at you before she leans forward, pressing a loving kiss to your forehead. You hum happily, a lovesick grin on your lips.

“I’m always happy to be good for you.."

You smile up at her, resting a cheek on her soft, warm thigh. But the sweet moment is short lived, because your features drop and panic sets in when a firm knocking sounds from her office door.

[carnelianly]

hi bae i recently followed you and i love every single thing you’ve posted,,, idk if this is a safe space but… like hitting art… him letting you and telling you he loves you and kissing you after

omg this is definitely a safe space babe let’s talk about this!!

hi this is my public service announcement that this is not a healthy relationship dynamic and you not ever put your hands on your partner. that is not okay irl unless there is expressed consent. this is also a very romanticized depiction and theoretically there should be more discussion and communication okay okay, end scene and with that out the way->

the first time you hit art being during an argument. you slap him after he says something a little too provocative, because art’s always been the type to say things to try and get under your skin when he’s mad. like he’s trying to get you to react and be the bad guy, stoop to his level.

but you slap him for saying something just a little bit too out of line, and the whole argument comes to a screeching halt as he stumbles back, holding his cheek in his hand as he looks down at the floor, and then back up at you in fear. he’s petrified.

and you just look baffled with yourself, not even realizing that was something you were capable of. you look down at your hands, like you didn’t know they could do that, and then back up at him.

he gulps. he thinks he’s in for it. but there also a weird feeling he can’t quite place. there’s that rush of adrenaline he got from the hit, and that bubble of shame welling up in his stomach.

he doesn’t want to admit it to himself, but it kinda felt good to watch you lose your temper, for you to break and fall from that pedestal he puts you on, and to see you for what you are. and you look hot when you’re angry. for a good second there he thought you were gonna kill him, and it was horrifying, sure, but.. god, is he getting hard?

he’s definitely lightheaded, standing there completely still, as if if he didn’t move, you wouldn’t notice that he’s getting turned on from the fact that you just hit him. you slapped him. you hurt him, god it stung so bad, why is he so fucking turned on from it?

“art?” you murmur, not wanting to cross the distance yet, “i… i’m so sorry, i.. can i get closer and take a look?” you sound unsure, tense, like you’re afraid that he’s upset at you. of course you’re worried, but he can’t help that it’s a hit to his heart. you’re worried that you’ve just ruined everything and he’s biting his lip trying to keep in the horniness.

he nods at your question, and you come closer, tentatively reaching out to pet his cheek, “oh.. oh baby, i’m so so sorry, i.. i really didn’t mean to do this. that doesn’t change what i did, but—“

“hey,” he cuts you off, trying to ease your nerves, “i’m not mad at you. we’re okay. you’re okay. it didn’t hurt that bad, just for a second there it stung.” and you sigh, closing your eyes.

art never told you how hard he came jerking off in the shower that night. he couldn’t have asked for sex right then and there, you were so frazzled and distracted and it wasn’t the right time, but thinking about how mad you looked for him going until he came so hard he was seeing stars.

a couple weeks later you’re making out with him on the couch, lips on his, straddling his lap, before he gasps out, “slap me,” his words move past his lips in a daze, he doesn’t even realize he said them until it’s too late.

you pull back, brows furrowed, “…what? uhm.. art, if this is some kinda joke—”

“no, baby, i.. i mean it.. please hit me, like last time. it was so hot..” he whispers, leaning in to kiss your neck delicately, “please, baby.”

and he eventually gets you to oblige, a good amount of begging usually works on you. so you slap him again, and he moans this time, surprising you both, but there’s something so hot about how his face contorts into pleasure when you slap him.

you lean back in to keep making out with him, and your hand brushes his cheek sweetly, as if apologizing, but he doesn’t need that. he needs you to hit him again and again until he gets dizzy.

and this begins the cycle of passionate make out sessions being routinely interrupted with a slap on his cheek or some other form of pain like your nails digging into his skin, carving moons into him.

and every time, without a doubt, he looks up at you with the most pleasure-filled look in his eyes and he mouth hanging open as he smiles slightly, whispering, “i love you,” even as his skin tingles from the aftermath. and when you lean back in to kiss him, gripping his face roughly, especially right over the sensitive skin you slapped, he knows you love him too.

[2amriize]

⟡˖ unexpectedly sharing room with RIIZE

ᡣ𐭩 masterlist genre crack, fluff pairing riize x reader

ᯓ★ SHOTARO

Due to a booking mistake, you and Shotaro ended up sharing a room. When you both realized you had keys to the same room, you couldn’t help but let out a nervous and awkward laugh. After asking the hotel staff, you found out there were no more available rooms, so you had no choice but to share. At first, it was a bit uncomfortable, but Shotaro tried to make conversation to ease the tension in the air.

When it came time to sleep, Shotaro looked at you nervously, unsure of what to do. "I can sleep on the floor if it makes you uncomfortable, I don’t mind," he said, grabbing a couple of pillows. You quickly refused, not wanting him to sleep uncomfortably.

"If you ever feel uncomfortable or need anything, just wake me up," he said as he lay down on the bed next to you. Although you covered yourself with the blanket, he decided not to, just in case it made you feel awkward. Despite the initial nerves, you both fell asleep pretty quickly.

ᯓ★ EUNSEOK

Eunseok couldn’t help but chuckle when he realized you were going to share a room, thinking at first that your friend was joking. But no, there was no mistake, and you couldn’t be placed in other rooms, so you had to share. While you got along well with Eunseok, you hadn’t reached the point where sharing a bed felt normal.

When it was time to sleep, you lay on one side of the bed, scrolling through your phone, while Eunseok showered. When he came out, already dressed in his pajamas, he looked at you and let out a small sigh. "How do you want to sleep? I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable."

Eunseok spent some time adjusting the sheets and pillows. He ended up putting a pillow in the middle of the bed to create a clear separation so you wouldn’t feel awkward. "Let me know if you need anything, or if I move too much... though I’m pretty hard to wake up."

ᯓ★ SUNGCHAN

Sungchan couldn’t control his expression when you both entered the room and realized you’d been assigned the same one by mistake. You stood in silence for a few seconds before letting out a small laugh, finding the situation amusing.

However, you couldn’t deny the slight embarrassment that came with the idea of sharing a bed. When it was time to sleep, Sungchan stood by the bed, looking at you.

"Which side do you prefer? You pick," he kept asking to ensure you were as comfortable as possible. He even gave you one of his pillows. Before finally getting into bed, he looked at you again, asking, "Are you sure you’re comfortable, right?"

ᯓ★ WONBIN

The first thing Wonbin thought of when he realized you’d be sharing a room was how to make sure you felt comfortable the entire time. Due to a booking error, you had ended up in the same room, and it was too late to change anything.

After you both settled in, Wonbin sat on the bed and looked at you. "Are you sure you’re comfortable? I can sleep on the couch if you want."

Even though you had already told him several times it wasn’t a big deal, he kept asking, even as you were about to fall asleep, constantly making sure you were comfortable.

"If I move too much or make noise at night, don’t hesitate to wake me up."

ᯓ★ SEUNGHAN

Seunghan’s cheeks couldn’t help but flush when he realized you’d be sharing a room. You had been friends for a long time, but you’d never slept in the same room, let alone in the same bed.

Although you weren’t uncomfortable, Seunghan kept checking on you, worried that you might feel awkward. As you both got into bed, he continued making sure you were okay.

"Do you need another blanket? Or maybe another pillow? Are you sure you’re comfortable with all this? I’ll try not to move during the night... you won’t even notice I’m here."

ᯓ★ SOHEE

Sohee was incredibly nervous when he found out you’d be sharing the same room. His first thought was to ask if you could switch rooms, but there weren’t any available.

"You’re okay with this, right?"

You reassured Sohee several times that everything was fine and that you didn’t mind sharing the room with him, but he couldn’t stop thinking about whether you were comfortable.

"Do you want me to ask for more blankets? Are you sure you’re not cold?" You couldn’t help but laugh a little every time he asked something.

When you finally got into bed, Sohee moved as close to the edge as possible, leaving you with more space.

ᯓ★ ANTON

You and Anton were quite close, but you’d never slept in the same room before. So when you both found out you had to share, it wasn’t awkward, but you were still a bit nervous.

You spent hours talking, sitting on the bed together, and even watched a movie on Anton’s laptop.

When you both started feeling sleepy, Anton got up and stretched a little before asking, "Which side of the bed do you want?"

"Let me know if at any point you feel uncomfortable or anything. I can sleep on the floor if I bother you too much."

You were both so tired that the moment you closed your eyes, you fell asleep instantly.

ᡣ𐭩 masterlist taglist: @regularsuh @gacktsa @totheseok @kkumistars @taroddori @enhacolor

[not-5-rats]

bodie, marco and/or timmy headcannons? maybe?

Hmmm okay, a please would be nice though /j, you didn't specify what kind of hcs sooooo you're getting silly ones :3

!!!Nonsense Gator Boys HCs ^^!!!

Bodie:

He is the only one that can navigate the swamps, nobody else has any clue where they're going

His posture is...not amazing, he's so used to bending down slightly when around Timmy...his posture has never been the same

He enjoys cooking with people, it's a nice way to spend time together

Dude would love Paddington, I feel no need to elaborate

An issue he has is his willingness to put others' needs above his own, it came out slightly when Bug arrived with their injured leg but it becomes very obvious when somebody he cares for is ill. He won't sleep, or look after himself properly because he needs to ensure they're doing alright.

He's fully prepared to die in the arena, he couldn't stand losing anybody else atp...he's ready to throw himself in dangers way at a seconds notice if it means everyone else will be alright

I don't think he could live with himself if he let anybody else die in the arena...if he lost the only people he had left, he'd probably lose himself as well

He has a vast knowledge on which fungi are edible and which aren't

Timmy:

Lost. He's constantly loosing his path, but he always finds his way back in the end

He spends most of his time climbing, whether it be trees, vines, piles of rocks, anything

Adding on to my last point, if you & him were together he would randomly drop from the trees and give you a lil kiss on the forehead/ cheek

Floor time - y'know when you're super burnt out and lie on your back, on the floor, just lie there for a few hours? Yeah that's Timmy

He doesn't always properly analyse the risks of certain activities, luckily he's nimble enough to often get out of these tight situations but he's received a couple injuries due to his impulsiveness

He's so overwhelmed right now, what the fuck is going on with his life. His parents are alive, his mother's a dragon, he's part dragon, Bodie's his uncle...everything is suddenly so different...he feels...lost

At points he wishes the Hunters had just went through with killing him when they found him...things would've been so much simpler then

He makes friendship bracelets, like the bead ones, he puts people's names on them

Marco:

Enjoys the rain, idc what you say, they're a rain lover

Why is Marco fruity? I can't quite put my finger on what type of fruit, but like...undeniably some sort of queer (I love them)

They would have had such an intense emo phase (which then evolved into kinda gothic adult)

They have like a mini museum in their bag, so many random things from such odd places, it's admirable

They could have stopped this from happening. Well maybe they could have, if they were around more maybe there was something they could have done that would've stopped Timmy from being taken...stopped this whole mess from happening

The guilt. It's fucking unbearable. Why did they constantly have to be gone, why couldn't they just stick around for 5 bloody minutes!

They want to change, they want to be there for their friends...but at this point, they feel like it's too late. Bodie and Timmy are so close and now it's revealed they're actually related!...is there even space for Marco anymore...are they even wanted at this point?

They like frogs

[citrus-writing]

noncon pussy eating phantom troupe ( + Hisoka if its possible) headcanons pls🫦

Thank you so much for asking! i'm so surprised so many people were interested in this!

----------------

yanderes who eat their darling out for their own pleasure, they cant get enough of their beloved darling, want to taste you all the time- 

Chrollo- 

Chrollo is obsessed with you, and of course, the faces and sounds you make for him when he kneels between your legs are no exception. He’s devoted to the task, almost worshiping you with his tongue and lips, determined to hear every little sound he can pull from your lips.

For a long while in your captivity in his home, he fantasizes about how you must taste, what faces you’d make, the little noises he’s so sure you’d make- but he leaves it a fantasy, because he doesn't want to scare you away. You’re inching closer to him with time, and he’s sure that if you knew the kind of things he was thinking you’d shrink away from him again, and he can't let that happen. But lately, you’ve been so tempting- wearing the little dresses he picks for you, short enough he can see the underwear he’d picked for you as well if you bent over even slightly. Everything about you makes him crazy, nearly desperate for a taste of what’s between your legs- what he’s sure is the most perfect pussy, made for him, just for him. 

So don't be surprised when he tells you to lie back on the bed and spread your legs- of course he’d taken the evening to soothe you into it. Your favorite food for dinner, your favorite movie on the tv, his arms around you all the while. His lips on yours- till your breathing heavy- his hands moving over your clothes to squeeze and toy with your chest. But it’s not nearly enough.

The look in his eyes tells you that there’s no getting out of this one, so you nervously lie back like he asked. “My love, what did I just ask from you?” he asks, nodding at your closed thighs. You struggle to fight the shame and embarrassment as you open your legs for him. 

He’s so romantic about it, taking his time to kiss and bite up your thighs, hands holding your hips still for him. He pulls your panties off slowly, making you whine in shame, but he’s convinced himself that you’re just as eager as he is. “Good girl.” 

Uvogin-  

Uvogin wastes no time at all in taking what he wants from you, and this is no exception. He’s imagined it so many times, has worked his fantasy over and over in his mind. He lays back on the bed, pulling you over him and manhandling you into the position he wants you in- kneeling over his face, wet folds hovering inches from his mouth. 

“Go ahead, baby, sit on down.” he encourages. His big hands are squeezing at your ass, your thighs, like he’s desperate to just feel you. You hesitate, looking for a way out of this, but of course once he’s made up his mind about something you know there’s no changing his mind. He looks up at you expectantly, “don't make me repeat myself,” and he says it with humor but it sends terror through you. You take a shaky breath and allow yourself to ease down, but it must be too slow for his liking because he grabs you by the hips to force your body down. 

The feeling of his tongue against your folds has you jolting from the shock, and maybe pleasure, but you don't want to admit that to yourself. It’s impossible to ignore how skilled he is with his tongue, something you’ve noticed when he’d kiss you, but something that is uncomfortably obvious right now, with you sat above him like this. He groans against you, the vibrations of his deep voice making you gasp, making you let out a tiny little noise of pleasure. He seems to like the sound, because he grows more eager- pushing his tongue inside you, lapping into you with a kind of hunger you hadn't expected. 

Illumi- 

Illumi isn't sure what about you has him so enamored- your smile? Your laugh? They way your eyes light up when you talk about something you love? He wouldn't be able to answer that if he was asked. But he knows what’s holding his attention right now. He can't pull his eyes away from your sleeping form next to him in the bed, blankets tossed off you and nightgown ridden up to reveal the underwear you're wearing. He’s seen you in less, of course, but something about this is different- you're unaware, completely at ease, all spread out for him to touch. 

He trails a hand down the contour of your waist, fingertips ghosting along the curve of your hip bone, letting himself touch the lace you're wearing. You dont wake up, only moving slightly when he first places his hand on your skin, but you remain peacefully asleep. 

He traces up and down the fabric with his index and middle fingers, teasing you and feeling your underwear grow damp at the sensation. You’re perfect- he tells you so all the time- but you’re absolutely perfect. He lets him dip under the waistline of your underwear, training his fingers down to gather up the slick gathering between your legs. 

You're starting to stir, moving a bit more, mumbling something incoherent. “Darling, go back to sleep.” he soothes. You mumble again, “illumi?” It seems sleep hasn't let go of you just yet, not really awake to realize your situation. When he brushes against your clit, you’re forced awake all at once with a desperate yelp. “Shh, you’re alright. I just want a taste of you.” 

Yanderes who eat out their darling in some kind of deranged attempt to make their darling feel good, to make their darling want them, beg for them- 

Nobunaga- 

Nobunaga is a delusional type of yandere, one who can convince himself that you want him the way he wants you. And he wants you all the time, anyway he can have you.whether it’s pining you down to the bed, forcing you to your knees in front of him, or spreading your legs to touch and taste your most sensitive places, he’s not going to take ‘no’ for an answer.  

Even when you struggle and shake, begging him not to, he just smiles at you with this soft look that makes you sick- he doesn't believe you. And how could he believe you don't want him when his fingers already have you so wet, dripping down his hands and down your thighs. He knows you want him as badly as he wants you, you must, by the way you whimper for him. Maybe someday you’ll be able to admit how badly you need him, but for tonight he won't force you to admit it. “You’re so good for me, aren't you?” he soothes, even as you continue to tremble. 

He pulls your legs further apart and settles his face between them, kissing at your thighs, licking at the slick gathered there. Licking up up up, towards his real prize. You’re all he wants, to touch you, taste you, feel you tremble when you cum from his tongue deep inside you. “I can't wait to taste you.” and, as if to prove his point, he drags the tip of his tongue across your entrance, not quite allowing himself to dip inside. No, he’s going to take his time with you. 

Hisoka- 

He’s always used you however he saw fit, taking anything he desired from you, because you were helpless to whatever he’d do to you. Most nights, that means carrying you to his bedroom- or the nearest surface, if he couldn't wait that long- before pinning you down and having his way with you. Hisoka is never a gentle lover, not even when he taunts you about how much worse he could be, but he does care for your pleasure- even if it’s only for his own satisfaction. 

That’s how you found yourself here, with your legs thrown over his shoulders, his hands keeping your hips still as you tried to fight and thrash. Of all the things he’s done to you, none have been so personal, so vulnerable. 

You want to be quiet so badly, but the way his tongue delves into you makes it difficult, even more so when he moans against you, sending vibrations up your body. It forces a little sound from you- a desperate little cry of pleasure, and no matter how much you don't want to believe it, it’s because it feels good. You don't want to be here- in his arms, in his bed, in his home- but the feeling of his hot mouth on you is so good you feel yourself getting almost lost in it. The sounds you made seem to excite him, and that thought makes you almost sick. He pulls away from you for a moment, looking up into your eyes, “are you enjoying yourself?” he’s taunting you, you know that. Before you can answer, he uses two fingers to spread you open, making you squirm. “Dont lie, darling, i want to hear how good it feels.” 

Phinks- 

Of course you’re scared, he knows that- you’ve made it very apparent, much to his annoyance. But it takes everything in him not to just take what he wants from you. And he could- that’s the thing, he knows he could do anything to you. It’s maddening, trying to coax you into trusting him, into coming nearer to him, into loving him. He promised himself he’d wait, and to be fair, he’s half honest about that. He won't take everything he needs from you, he just needs a taste, that’ll be more than enough. 

You’ve struggled your hardest, twisting around in his grasp for what felt like eternity, and now you’ve worn yourself out. It’d be pitiful if you didn't look so good under him, already out of breath, and finally- finally- plaint under him. He wastes only a second or two looking at your face before his hands move to remove your clothes. It’s agony not to fuck you, it’s all he really wants to do, but he reminds himself that he’d promised himself he’d settle for just the sight of your body and the taste of you. 

You're tense at first, when he pulls down your underwear and leans forward, bringing his face closer to you. You dont beg him not to, and he takes that as some kind of consent, though he’s not quite delusional enough to believe that. He feels you relax as he kisses your thigh, taking a moment to say “that’s right, just relax. I’ve got you.” before finally indulging in you the way he’s wanted to. He hears your breath hitch a little when he kisses just over where you want him. Your hands grip at the sheets, and he can hardly hold back enough to mumble, “I've waited so long for this.” 

Yanderes who eat out their darling as a form of punishment, making you beg and cry as they force you over the edge over and over- 

Feitan- 

Feitan has trouble expressing his feelings and desires for you in a way you can understand, and this is no different. How could he possibly explain to you the way you make him feel? How he has to fight off blushing when you’re close to him, how just the sound of your voice has his heartbeat racing, how just the sight of you in the outfit he picked for you has all the blood in his body racing south. It’s embarrassing- humiliating- and he won't stand for it. So when he sees you bend over in the little skirt, he has to do something about it. 

You yelp as he grabs you, his hand closing around your wrist as he spins you around and slams yur back into the wall. Your head hurts where it hit the plaster, and your wrist hurts where he’s still crushing it in his hand. “You did that on purpose.” he accuses. You don't even know what you did. “Don't move.” he demands, letting go of your wrist to drop to his knees. The action alone is so unlike feitan, it’s unlike him to touch you, and it’s unlike him to kneel in front of you like this. There’s something wrong. 

He reaches up under your skirt to pull your underwear down- he’d gotten a good view of them earlier, but it’s different when he’s taking them off you. Feitan pulls them off you, watching the way you shake slightly, but you don't move- exactly like he asked. 

He’s careful with you, methodical in a way that’s unsettling and foreign. You whimper when he brings his fingers to your folds, as if testing the wetness. He glances up at you, eyes not betraying any emotion. He traces his finger along your entrance, not quite letting his fingers dip inside. You try to keep quiet, try to stay still, but it’s so difficult when you can feel yourself getting wetter as he works at you. “Good.” he appraised.

He’s just as methodical and slow with his tongue when he angles his head to lap at your cunt, his lips sealed against you as he works his tongue into you. If he can make you cum like this, maybe he’ll consider forgiving you for your little stunt earlier. If not, he’ll eat you over and over again until you beg him to stop.

Shalnark- 

He looks up at you from between your legs, eyes shining as he carefully and skillfully swirls his tongue over your clit. Your whole body is trembling from the pleasure he’s giving you, the way he so deftly and methodically takes you apart. Shalnark knows he’s making you feel good, he can feel it in the way you clench around his fingers, the way your slick drips down his hand, the way that you taste so so good. 

He lets out a soft little laugh, his hot breath making you whine, and he pulls his mouth from you. You whimper at the loss, mind too foggy to really think of how you shouldn't want this. But he’s making you feel so good, and you can't deny yourself this- anything he’s willing to give you. 

“You want to cum?” he asks, voice obviously amused. You nod. He twists his wrist just so, making you gasp and arch up against him. “I don't know, you’re not acting like you do.” he taunts. Of course he’d take a moment like this to tease you- shalnark would never miss the opportunity to toy with you. “Maybe if you beg me, I'll consider letting you.” 

-----------------

[bogusbyron]

i never shared this, because it was just a sketch i wrote late at night while i was thinking about MsurM era javert. it's also not enough to post on AO3, being just a character description, so i'll post it here.

in case you wanted an explanation of my MsurM javert headcanons from the eyes of valjean..... (800 words)

The day was bright, yet the air was crisp - the citizens of Montreuil-sur-Mer all donned what coats and shawls they had. The overcast sky may as well have been glaring sunlight, and many a folk were squinting against the light of the day as they made their ways onwards.

One figure stood high amongst them, of course. He stuck out like a bramble in a bush, a watchtower on a distant hill. That much had not changed for him - at least, not to Jean Valjean.

What a formidable figure he had become! he thought, as Javert became clearer as he approached from the end of the street.

True, the new Inspector’s uniform he wore was certainly wont to make him stand out - surely that was the intention - and it contrasted his guardsman uniform in Toulon, which was worn by all guards. But there had been something about his presence, his gaze, the way he would hold himself, like he knew best, like he himself was the very system that was oppressing Jean Valjean and all these other souls - how could he not have attracted Valjean’s attention? His glare was relentless and haunting. Often his hat would cast a shadow across his face in the harsh yet dim lights of the prison, in the galleys - but even still, those icy pools like something from mythology would pierce through even the darkest of rooms, and bore themselves into Valjean’s skull.

Valjean, at the time, being burdened with far more pressing matters, had not bothered to remember much of Javert’s face. He remembered his name, yes, and how each of his features specifically came together to form the figure he recognised to be Javert - but now he could see him, really see him, and almost study him.

His hair, which had begun to silver at the temples, had grown long, and  he styled it by pulling it back and tied with a riband - unusual and eccentric, certainly, but Valjean could not comment, having a similar and arguably more eccentric haircut himself, as Madeleine. Valjean vaguely recalled Javert’s slim sideburns as a guard which had touched the corners of his jaw. Now they appeared much like the overgrown hedges of a neglected household, and the heavy squareness of his jaw only reassured this. His silhouette resembled that of a wolf’s - or a tiger, when he flashed his teeth.

Valjean had noticed also, when Javert came to introduce himself to the Mayor as the new Inspector, a scar on his face which told a story indeed. He’d chosen not to inquire about it - it was far too early in their acquaintanceship for amiable conversation between the two, and anyway improper. The scar was certainly not subtle, running the length from his bottom lip, past his piggish nose, nearly touching his eye. It made Valjean thankful for the placement of his own scars, easily covered where hair grew. He only had to drape his hair down his eye when he spoke to Javert - the man had spent a vast amount of time in Toulon staring, surely he would remember the placement of the scar?

His figure, always imposing, had somehow become even more daunting. He seemed to have put weight on, around the neck, shoulders and chest, and coupled with his notable height, what resulted was a broad and prodigious man that made effortless work of threatening unruly crowds with his sheer presence.

The final change that Jean Valjean had noticed, and perhaps the least important, was his sudden lack of hair. It had not been very long at all in the grand scheme of his life since he had last seen Javert, but in that time, he had lost nearly all his hair atop his head. Valjean knew he had had it, occasionally on a hot day Valjean would have seen him lift his hat for a brief moment in the sun - it was nothing to be remarked upon, simply black and cropped short. It was in Madeleine’s office Javert had taken his hat off in respect and it was only then did Valjean realise he had been expecting more hair. He had almost flinched.

Though he often avoided meeting them, and thus never got a good enough look to say, Valjean suspected that Javert’s eyes were unchanged. On bright days such as these, he could sometimes be found donning his strange tinted eyeglasses. They were almost as threatening as his unguarded eyes - with the wall of dark glass in front of them, it created his very own Panopticon, and Valjean imagined it worked just the same.

They passed each other in the street now, and Valjean felt his gaze, or so he thought he did. He nodded politely anyway, and did not see if it was returned. An icy chill found its way through Valjean’s body and he shuddered.

[mikibwrites]

Thank you so much @firstprincehornyramblings for tagging me :) Feeling very...not great abt anything lately so thank you for being interested! As always, more from time travel au, this time featuring June being Doneᵀᴹ and it's only day 1

“What are you doing?” she hisses.

“What do you mean? I’m mingling,” he says, shaking her hand off his arm with a small wince. 

“Alex, what is our number one rule? The thing we explicitly agreed on again when we figured out where we were this time?”

“I’m not going to change the course of history by talking to people, June! We do that all the time!” His voice is carrying a bit too much now, as they’ve garnered a few sidelong glances. He knows he’s not been loud enough for the words to be made out, but the fact that they’re arguing in public is probably considered a faux pas in this crowd, so he reels himself in. 

“You know that’s not what I mean, Alex. Don’t think I didn’t notice him this morning. And before we went back to dress.” Alex scoffs, because she’s sort of right but, like, he’s not going to admit to it. “Alex, the [redacted] is literally [redacted], and you’re having a fucking meet-cute!” Her voice is nearly into shrill territory, and she visibly tries to calm herself. 

“It’s not a meet-cute, oh my g–” but she cuts him off with another hiss. 

“I swear to god, Alex, if you tell him–”

“I won’t, okay? Fuck, I won’t. I know better than that.” Does he?

“Do you?” Her eyes bore into him, and against his own instincts, he breaks first. It definitely doesn't help that he subconsciously cuts his eyes back to the door, where he can just make out the tall, blond, broad-shouldered Duke shaking hands with some other stuffed up rich guy, and it makes Alex’s hands tingle just remembering what their own handshake had felt like. Electricity.

No pressure tags, and please please let me know if you don't want to be tagged and I'll remove you. @alrightbuckaroo @bonheur-cafe @porcelainmortal @catdadacd @henryspearl @theprinceandagcd @carlos-in-glasses @onthewaytosomewhere

@miss-minnelli @strandnreyes @thesleepyskipper @anincompletelist And as always, OPEN tag anyone else who wants to post! Please tag me :)

[pinkyjulien]

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[elegyofthemoon]

ok but do i want to actually sit and read through all the clockie animation stuff so i have better foundation for what i want to say? i guess

[autisticlee]

sometimes I think about how when I went to college for a year before I dropped out (basically failed out,) the counselors/dean told me they can't help me at all or give any accommodations unless I have an official autism/adhd diagnosis. that might sound logical at first, but when you think about it more, it's actually quite fucked up. if someone is struggling really bad, what's the harm in helping them? why do they require a paper to get even the smallest amount of help? people who don't need help aren't going to be failing miserably without help! even NTs could benefit from some adjustments to the horrible school system! (but changing the entire system is a whole other conversation that the school system isnt ready for)

but even if you do agree to jump through their hoops, you realize it's even more fucked up that the diagnosis process requires YEARS in most cases (in my case it took 4 or 5 years, can't recall exactly now, for autism/adhd diagnosis, which would have meant i finished school before getting it if i managed to mot fail out, or i wait that long before going back, which is a whole struggle itself) and they also tried billing me for THOUSANDS of dollars because of insurance issues!!

so you put a ton of time and money into this, and then get told the only accommodation they are willing to give you for autism and adhd is "a little extra time on tests"

....

my test scores were the best part of my whole class experience. that was NOT what I struggled with!!!!! those tests were all online and could be done in the comfort of your home where you can accommodate yourself and have plenty of time left over when you finish them because you are comfy in your own space, (and also, no one was stopping you from having your notes/books/google open to find the answers,) and you don't even need a time consuming, expensive diagnosis for that!

SO WHAT'S THE POINT!!!!!!!

[lastmidtownshowmp3]

I don’t think listening to tai for a month straight is going to fix this one!

[caffeinatedopossum]

Skgkfjf my girlfriend helps me so much I love her so so much >_<

Ever since I told her I thought I was autistic, she's done so much research and really paid attention to what I specifically need and idk she just goes so above and beyond everyday. Like the amount she accommodates me is insane- I wish everyone had someone this thoughtful and supportive.

[robyn-goodfellowe]

everything has been so fast lately i need time to just stop for a little

[katyspersonal]

Okay so like...

Back then I had a dream in which Micolash protected me from my abusive stepdad whom I keep having nightmares about all of my life, and I've had peaceful sleeps for a while. Then I had a dream where he attempted to trap my soul with a ritual by luring me, pretending he loved me too. Later I had a dream in which he outright murdered and resurrected me several times - to end up sparing me after I sacrificed a way to escape his torture for someone else - but scolded me very much for clinging to him and told me how much he did NOT want me to "force" myself on him (you heard it right, MICOLASH of ALL people found me too chaotic and cringe to manage with o_o").

But tonight, I had a (personal) dream about him again - in which he took me back in a moment of my teen years when one of my worst traumas happened, and tried to attempt fixing it by turning it into a pleasant memory instead. I woke up before he could, but I appreciate the intention (a very ironic one for someone called king of NIGHTMARE, lol)

But in all honesty, that's a very unstable relationship o_o" Mico pls