#i doubt this will happen but i so desperately want it to

[chelseeebe]

truth or dare

18+. mdni. smuuuut. yeah man it’s really just smut. eddie munson x female reader.

a/n: not sure if i really like this but i wanted to post something while i work on this other long ass thing that may never see the light of day el oh el a continuation to gimme a hand and bump n’ grind or can absolutely be read on it’s own!

steve and robin had made the right call, leaving a few hours ago before the storm really hit.

eddie’d stupidly offered another joint, not wanting to let you go so soon. optimistic that maybe something would happen after those two had cleared off.

you’d been darting around it all evening, watching the movie with your hand under the blanket, stroking his thigh. inadvertently, or perhaps purposefully, making his cock shift with every length of your hand.

you peer out of the window, clicking your tongue against the back of your teeth, “i don’t think i can drive,” turning back to face him, “it’s really comin’ down out there,” a hint of satisfaction in your voice.

“i’m sure wayne won’t mind if you crash here,” shrugging softly.

you used to stay around a lot when you were slightly younger, back when touch was innocent and there weren’t all these complicated layers to your relationship.

“can you handle that?”

his eyes roll back, “shut up,” sitting back in his spot on the couch. anticipating spending the night here rather than in his bed, desperate to prove that he could handle it.

“whatcha wanna do?” you sing, pursing your lips.

“i dunno,” he shrugs, “we could watch another movie?” knowing that ultimately, another movie would lead to you touching his thigh until he came or something.

“that’s boring,” scowling at his suggestion, “i mean.. we are stuck in here,” biting on your bottom lip, “let’s play a game,” you propose, cocking your head, “truth or dare.”

eddie groans, an unwilling participant in your silly little games.

“come on,” offering zero incentive for him to play, “it’ll be fun,” taking another swig of the surely luke-warm beer. “truth or dare?”

there is not a single bone in his body that wants to play with you. no doubt you’d have him confessing to something embarrassing or doing something dangerous or stupid.

“dare,” he says flatly, hoping you’ll dare him to jump out of the window or something.

“i dare you..” you ponder for only a second, “to take your shirt off.”

“wh-,” he starts, mouth falling open, “well i dare you to take your shirt off.”

“it’s not my turn, idiot,” pursing your lips, “off.. now.”

pouting your lips, watching carefully as he lifts his shirt off, tossing it to the other side of the room.

“alright,” honing in on this stupid game, “truth or dare?”

“dare.”

eddie’s eyes light up, “take your shirt off,” immediately getting his own back.

“you’re supposed to say i dare you before your dare,” tutting at his impatience, though you do as he says.

lifting your shirt over your head, revealing the lacy bra you had most definitely chosen on purpose. maybe this was your plan all along, waiting to get him alone to inflict your cruel wrath upon him.

he ogles just enough to not have you mention anything, diverting his attention back to whatever drivel was on the tv. desperate to just get over this dancing around each other and get to the inevitable.

“truth or dare?” you ask again, poking his leg with your foot.

“do we have to play?” eddie whines.

“yes.”

“okay truth,” he spits, leaning back against the cushions.

“why didn’t it work out with you and chrissy?”

he groans again, already sick of this, “we wanted different things,” different things being you, he means.

“like what? i thought you were testing the waters or whatever?” mocking him with his own words.

“you. you jerked me off and ruined my life forever, is that what you wanted me to say?”

you ponder in silence for a moment before that god awful smirk creeps onto your face, “actually yes, that’s exactly what i wanted you to say,” crossing your legs, all self-righteous and smug.

it’s not like you didn’t already know this, it was fairly obviously to anyone with eyes and two brain cells to rub together.

“your turn,” smiling pointedly at you, “truth or dare?”

you hum, contemplating your options, whatever you picked, he was surely going to make it worth his while.

“dare.”

“alright,” eddie sits up straight, poking his tongue into his cheek, “i dare you to run around outside in your underwear,” if you wanted to play stupid games, you could win stupid prizes too.

your smile grows, taking over your entire face, “fine,” standing from your spot on the floor, shimmying out of your jeans right in front of him.

he jumps up, rushing to the door as you bound outside, filling the silent trailer park with your squeals and squeaks.

eddie watches in quiet amazement, more focused on the way your tits move with every bound, your lacy panties framing your jiggling ass perfectly. he’s close to drooling, turning into a slobbering mess at the sight of you literally frolicking in your panties. he was a pathetic man, and he knew it.

you turn, running full speed back into the door, teeth chattering and your hands trembling from the cold. barrelling straight past him, back into the warmth, lashes coated in tiny, intricate snowflakes.

“fuck!” you screech, “you asshole,” picking up his discarded shirt to slip on instead of your own. he wishes you hadn’t. seeing you half naked in his shirt was far worse than seeing you actually naked.

eddie snickers, closing the door all the while trying to keep his composure.

a smirk erupts onto your face, something ticking away in your brain before you stomp over, grabbing his cheeks with your ice cold hands, grinning with pure self satisfaction.

he hollers, grabbing your wrists in defence. it becomes a flailing sort of dance, with you trying to keep your cold hands on his face and him fighting to get you away. a mixture of expletives fill the trailer, screeching over one another as you move around the room.

you trip over one of the discarded bottles on the floor, sending you flying back onto the couch, still breathlessly cursing him out.

eddie takes the only logical step, pouncing on top of your flailing body, bounding your arms together at the wrist, heaving for breath.

he freezes, the realisation that for once he had all the power dawning upon him, unequipped for the sudden change in dynamic.

he can feel you, underneath him, pressed into the couch by his body, sending shivers down his spine.

“you gonna do something or what?” you snark, no longer trying to wriggle free, accepting and even pleased in your defeat.

“yeah,” he adds meekly, despite not making an attempt to actually do something.

your brows thread together, knee sliding up the side of his body, spreading your legs further as his cock perks up in response.

holy fucking shit.

this was it.

or it could be it if he can gather his raucous thoughts enough to make a move.

eddie’s had sex before, multiple times in fact. he doesn’t understand why his hands aren’t doing the thing they should be, why he’s frozen in place, waiting for something to happen.

“we don’t have to, you know?”

fuck. he was going to fuck this up through sheer stupidity.

so instead of letting his brain worm his way out of what would probably be the best moment of his life, he thinks with his dick.

pressing his lips to yours in a hasty, rushed kiss. letting your hands free from his restraint, allowing you to weave your fingers through his hair just like he’d thought so much about.

his hands crawling underneath his shirt, touching your skin for what felt like the first time ever, gliding over your waist, appreciating the soft feel of your skin, lingering for too long.

he doesn’t want to take it off, how many times could he say he’d have sex with you with his shirt on?

you’d already stripped him out of his clothes, leaving nothing to the imagination as his hips grind down against yours, breathing shakily into your mouth.

your lips latch onto his, tongue sliding into his open mouth while your fingers pull gently at his curls.

even when eddie thinks he’s fully in control, you still take charge. rutting your hips upwards, separated by the thin layer of lace and his boxers that most definitely had a hole in them.

there’s a fifty percent chance that he’ll cum right away, already incredibly hard, teetering on the edge.

it’s genuinely incomprehensible that after months and months of longing and edging, this was finally happening. too caught up with trying to keep to your pace to really think about the implications on your relationship too much.

he hopes that this won’t change anything, at least not negatively anyway.

your hand slides down the tiny space left in between your bodies, toying with the waistband of his boxers before slipping in. unable to contain his groan from slipping out and into your mouth.

tugging the fabric down just enough to let his cock out, giving him no time to recover before your fist wraps around the base of his cock, pumping your fingers around the sensitive skin.

“fuck,” he breathes, bottom lip still latched onto yours. no hand had ever come close to yours, filling his thoughts since you’d touched him for the first time.

wayne’s ratty old couch wasn’t exactly the romantic location he’d envisioned this happening in, but beggars can’t be choosers and eddie certainly wasn’t going to complain.

he’s so dumbfounded that any of this is even happening, clumsily fumbling with the lace hem of your underwear, tugging them down haphazardly, with no care or grace.

his previous displays of desperation made sure you didn’t care about his composure, or else you wouldn’t be here.

your lips collide, all teeth and tongues and spit. eddie too focused on the feel of your hand around his cock to care.

he can feel your body shift from underneath, manoeuvring his cock to your soaked entrance, letting out the most ungodly noise as the tip glistens with your slick.

pressing your sweaty forehead against his, begging for his full attention, “look at me,” you insist, running your fingers around his cock, withholding him from full satisfaction.

he does as you ask, finding your wild-eyed gaze, holding it just long enough to slide into your slick cunt, grunting into the hot air that hung around the room.

“fuck,” you bite, weaving your fingers through his hair, tightening your things around his waist.

it’s dizzying. feeling you envelope around him just as he’d imagined countless times before. you’re so warm and so wet, so so wet. eddie can’t help but wonder if this is how you’d felt when you were grinding against him.

nothing could’ve ever prepared him for the fuzzy haze that’d encapsulate his brain, thoughts only of you and your body and your pussy.

his balls slap against your ass, slow and steady, hoping not to bust five seconds in. keeping his eyes on yours, encapsulated by the way they flit between his eyes and his lips.

heaven wouldn’t be too far off this, he thinks.

his rhythm is neither here nor there but he was trying, filling you to the hilt and then pulling back out again.

every soft, melodic gasp and cry you made was echoing through his brain, spurring him on to make them louder.

purely intoxicated with your pussy, gasping for more as he slams against your hips.

this wasn’t going to last long but he sure as shit was going to make it worthwhile.

you writhe underneath his body, fingernails grazing against his scalp, gentle and yet demanding.

“sh-shit eds,” you pant, jaw slack with your tongue practically lolling out of your head.

just hearing you moan his name has detrimental effects on his brain chemistry. his eyelids struggle, fluttering open just enough to meet your glossy eyes, pupils blown out and crazy. this was going to wreck him for the rest of his life, cursed forever by the image of you and your parted lips. the way you wail his name becoming a tune he’d revisit constantly.

he’d love to capture it, one day, if you’d let him.

no one would ever come close to you, your cunt and your god forsaken sighs. eddie promises to himself that if there’s a next time, he’s not leaving until you cum. unsure if he’d be able to control himself but more than willing to take that risk.

his thrusts become sporadic, losing his grip on reality as he teeters closer and closer to the edge. you can see it too, tugging gently on his hair to bring him back to this reality.

pressing a gentle kiss to the side of his mouth, too high off of your own pleasure to aim for accuracy.

eddie’s not sure if he prefers your goading or this softer touch, honestly neither were helping him not to bust his load right now.

“yeah?” you breathe, in response to his hoarse grunts, succumbing to the tightening pressure in his stomach, “you gonna cum?” sighing against his mouth.

he doesn’t want to, not really. hoping this’d last forever and ever because god knows if you’d ever let him touch you again.

hoping desperately to have not wasted his one and only time buried inside of you by cumming in five minutes flat.

but he is going to cum, in fact, he’s dangerously close to doing so immediately. the way you squeeze and tighten around him only accelerating the inevitable, his toes curling and mouth running dry.

he was seeing stars, dancing around the inside of his eyelids. woozy on adrenaline as he pathetically ruts his hips into yours for a final few lousy strokes.

“oh fuck,” eddie rushes, “no- fuck i’m cumming,” his cock slides out, thick ropes of his release covering not only your inner thighs but the couch too. collapsing atop of your perfect body, pinning you to the cushions as he attempts to gain some sort of semblance of control.

his face finds your chest, heaving for breath between your tits, his shirt pulled up just enough for your bra to peep underneath the hem.

“jesus christ,” words vibrating against your skin, almost purring at your fingers combing through his hair.

nothing he could ever dream would match up to that. the neurons in his brain had been frazzled, never to work or compute the way they should, ever again.

he places a measly kiss to your chest, looking up at you through his lashes, an insignificant gesture of appreciation that he felt he owed.

“you good?” you ask, lips twitching into a smile, unsure if you’re mocking him or genuinely concerned. either or would be fine.

“not really,” still floating up above the clouds.

“shut up,” definitely mocking, pulling tufts of his hair back to have him meet your eye fully, “you liked that?”

he nods enthusiastically, pining after your approval like the lovesick little loser he truly was. incredibly, you hadn’t run off into the storm, so maybe you had too.

“good,” abruptly letting go of his hair, his head falling back onto your chest, “get off me, i need a shower,” attempting to peel him off of your body.

eddie knows, or at least hopes, that your snippy, sarcastic comments were made out of love. you showed affection by being a bitch and he showed his by being a stumbling, pathetic loser.

if that was all he had to endure to get anywhere near your pussy again, he’d do it in a heartbeat. each and every time.

-

wayne’s knuckles wrap against his bedroom door, waking eddie from the already broken sleep he was suffering with, far too excitable to settle down properly. instead he’d spent his hours between drifting in and out of sleep and watching your dreamy face, trying to match his breaths to yours.

he slides out of bed, careful not to wake you, treading carefully to avoid the mountains of crap strewn across the floor.

“what the hell?” wayne whispers angrily, gesturing back to the living room he had neglected to clean. too caught up in you being in his shower and in his bed with his shirt on to care about empty beer bottles and discarded clothes.

“sorry,” eddie squirms, knowing he couldn’t exactly worm his way out of this one. “we had a few beers.. you know,” shrugging coyly. his uncle wasn’t stupid, he definitely did know.

wayne’s eyes narrow, flitting behind eddie to you, sleeping soundly in his bed. thankfully covered by the blanket as you slept in just his shirt.

“what happened there?” raising his brow at his inconspicuous nephew.

he shrugs, and then he grins. that great big toothy grin that wayne couldn’t mistake.

wayne shakes his head, tutting to himself as he backs away from the door, “clean that shit up before i wake up,” before disappearing into his own room.

eddie smiles to himself, sliding back into bed when you stir, humming softly, displeased to have been woken up so early.

“is he mad?” you mumble, muffled by the pillow.

“no.. no, not really,” eddie hushes, turning on his side to face you.

you’re still dozing, not bothering to open your eyes though he didn’t mind, you were peaceful this way, far calmer than your usual self.

“good,” settling into the pillow before slinging your leg over his thigh, pulling yourself closer, “he loves me too much to do anything anyway,” nestling your body into his side.

if the world ended tomorrow, eddie would die a happy man.

[justagirlobsessedwithwizards]

let me help you

dad’s bsf!theodore nott x fem!reader

minors dni!!!

summary: theo catches reader masturbating and helps out

warnings: age gap (reader is 20 and theo is in his late 30s), masturbation, piv, creampie, unprotected sex, degradation, overstimulation, oral (f receiving), fingering, lowkey perv theo? (kinda), squirting, bulge kink, breeding kink, subspace

Theo had lived next to your family for a few months now, and him and your dad had gotten pretty close. He was a little bit younger than your dad, but still a lot older than you, which is why you knew this was so wrong.

It was so messed up to be doing this, but you couldn’t help yourself. It was like he was doing it on purpose. The casual touches. The subtle glances. It was like he was teasing you.

That’s how you ended up like this, rubbing circles on your clit while biting your lip to keep yourself from moaning.

You imagined it was Theo’s fingers on your clit instead. Your eyes closed as your head fell back against the pillow, moaning quietly. “Fuck, Theo..”

You were so close, so desperate for release. Your hand moved faster, your other hand coming up and toying with one of your nipples.

Small whines and whimpers escaped you as felt your orgasm starting to approach.

“Damn, bella.”

Your eyes shot open to find none other than Theodore Nott standing in your door way, staring at you.

You threw the blanket over yourself, bright red in embarrassment. You could have sworn you locked your door.

Theo simply cocked his head in amusement, “I never told you to stop.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to utter actual words. And oh god, did he hear you moaning his name??

“C’mon baby, you were so close, weren’t you? Don’t you wanna cum?” He took a step closer. “Or do you need me to help you?”

You froze. Was he actually implying that he wanted to sleep with you? What about your dad? Wasn’t he downstairs?

“My dad’s-“

“At the store.” Theo finished for you. “Your dad went to the store. It’s just you and me, principessa. And i know that you must be so worked up,” he took another step closer standing right by your bed now. “Let me help you.”

You couldn’t help but squeeze your thighs together at that. He was so eager to help you. To make you feel good. You both wanted it so much. So it couldn’t be that wrong, right?

“Theo-“

“Shhh, I’m gonna make you feel so good baby, don’t worry.”

All your worries and doubts washed away as he pulled off the sheet that had been covering you, and his eyes darkened.

“dea,” he whispered under his breath, “please baby, i need to taste you.”

you couldn’t help but whine out at that. “please..”

Theo smirked slightly, kneeling down at the edge of the bed and yanking your body towards him. Before you could even react, his face was burried in between your legs.

“Ah- fuck teddy-“ you couldn’t finish your words, a loud and pitiful moan leaving your lips. Theo was eating you out like he was in the desert and you were the only source of water.

His tongue flicked your clit as he added his fingers to the mix, pushing two fingers into your cunt.

You whimpered at the stretch, but yearned for more. For him.

He was basically making out with your clit as his fingers sped up the pace, slamming in and out of you roughly.

Soon enough, you felt that familiar heat pool in your stomach, and your eyes rolled back, thighs shaking.

“Ah- Theo- I’m cumming- fuck-“

Theo moaned against your cunt, his tongue flicking your clit faster as his fingers curled, hitting your g-spot.

You couldn’t help but cry out as your orgasm rushed through you. Your body shook as a clear fluid rushed out of you and soaked the sheets and Theo’s face.

Theo’s movements came to a stop as he looked up at you. Once you came down from your high, you looked down and your cheeks flushed when you realized what happened.

“That was so fucking sexy, bella.” was all he said before standing up to rid himself of his clothes.

Once he was fully undressed, he hovered over you, and pressed a soft kiss against your lips. “Please let me fuck you, baby. I need it. I need to fill you up nice and full with my cock. Is that what you want?”

You mindlessly nodded, still dumb from your previous orgasm. “Fuck me, teddy, please.”

That was all the permission he needed before he guided the head of his dick inside you, moaning as he felt your walls stretching for him.

You whimpered, tears pricking your eyes as he slowly pushed himself all the way in.

“Shh, I know baby, I know. But you asked for this remember? You can take it.”

His thrusts started slow, but began to speed up once he noticed you weren’t in any pain anymore. Quite the opposite, actually.

You were a moaning mess for him, tears streaming down your face as he fucked into you.

“Yeah? You like that, hm? You like when i fuck you deep?”

You couldn’t reply, mind slowly going blank as he fucked you dumb. You could do nothing but lay there and take it.

Theo’s eyes drifted down your body, downright whimpering when he realized he could see himself fucking into you. He watched the bulge of his cock slipping in and out of you roughly.

He grabbed your hair, forcing you to look and see what he was seeing.

“You see that, baby? See how deep I am? How well you’re taking me?”

You moaned, clenching around him, screaming his name as his hand pressed down on the bulge, pushing himself out of you.

His thrusts got faster as he felt himself nearing the edge. “I’m gonna fill that perfect little pussy with my cum, yeah? I’m gonna fucking breed you, baby. And you’re gonna lay there and take it like the good little cumslut that you are.”

His words were filthy and disgusting, but you loved it. You loved how he treated you like nothing more than a whore for him to use how he likes.

Soon enough, you were cumming again, a second rush of fluid shooting out of you.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty squirting on my cock-“

Your orgasm seem to go on forever, making a complete mess of your legs as you kept squirting.

“Yeah? You just can’t stop cumming on my dick, huh?” Theo asked. Just as you thought you had finally came down from your high, Theo’s thrusts got faster, and his thumb rubbed rough circles on your clit.

Sobbing, your third orgasm took over, and you couldn’t do anything accept lay there and let him use you.

“That’s it, keep squirting on my cock you filthy fucking whore.”

He whimpered as you clenched around him, and soon painted your walls with his cum.

Theo whimpered slightly as he pulled out, his cum dripping out of you and down your thighs. You shivered at the feeling.

“You did so good for me baby, now let’s run you a bath before your dad get’s home, hm?”

(this is my first time writing a full oneshot im sorry it’s so bad)

[pomefioredove]

angelum

summary: morally insecure reader type of post: fic characters: rollo additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, yuu is at nbc now, hurt/comfort, a little fluffy, extremely self indulgent, rollo is ptsd coded as per usual

Perhaps he didn't know you as well as he thought.

But then again, perhaps he didn't want to.

Rollo had become accustomed to the comfortable home you had made yourself within his mind, warm and comforting and far, far away from the dark crevices he worked so hard to stave off.

It mirrored reality, in a sense; he saw it as his duty to keep you safe and away from all the evils of the world, the magic and sin and those who would lead you astray... some days, he felt that he could shrug the rest of his life off his shoulders and solely devote himself to your keeping. Others, he was bothered by nasty thoughts of doubt, those that told him he was only doing to you now what he couldn't have done all those years ago.

Rollo kept himself occupied enough to avoid thinking about it too much.

He did not see a reason to tell you of his mission, of course. You- pure, perfect, untainted by the sins of this world- wouldn't understand. No one would. But you never questioned it, either. Most days, you were simply happy to be treated well (the implications of which he did not want to dwell on; Rollo had made himself a promise not to pry too much about your experience at Night Raven College).

Always so grateful. So kind. Too kind, sometimes, that it caught him off guard. Rollo had not had a friend since...

...Never mind, that.

So perfect. So pure. Everything he could ever aspire to be, but never would, all captured in one person. An angel sent for him, and him alone.

But just as there were things you wouldn't understand about him, there was a sea of mysteries about you.

He can't imagine how you could cause yourself such grief.

Delicately holding your face between his hands, palms gently pressed to each wet, salty cheek, as if you were made of porcelain. He wipes away your tears with his thumbs, not bothering to pull away to retrieve his handkerchief. He can't even think of that right now. Seeing you in such pain is tearing him into halves.

"I'm a bad person,"

"No," he says, almost immediately. His voice sounds more desperate than he would have liked. He can't help it.

"I am,"

He had already spent thousands of nights wishing for some miracle that could heal unseen wounds, but that desire had become stronger than ever now. He would have gladly torn his heart out of his chest and given it to you if it would help.

He hates it. He hates that you make him feel this way. He hates himself for caring so deeply.

Yet, he still can't hate you.

Never you.

"You're not," he insists. "Tell me what's happened. I will make it better."

You don't respond, and it kills him. However you managed to get such an awful idea about yourself, he can't say. Perhaps it came from Night Raven College. Perhaps it's even older than that.

It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter, because it is not true.

It's not true.

It's not true.

After all, if you are a bad person, then what does that make him?

You avoid his eyes. "You can't," there's long pause to take a shaky breath. "You can't make it better. I've tried... I've been trying... it doesn't go away. It's like... I've been shattered into a million pieces, and I can't be put back together again."

Rollo winces, though he doesn't show it on his face.

There are these things you do, these brief moments, soft exchanges of words, certain looks on your face, that remind him all too much of himself.

He pities you. He pities himself.

"Stop it," is all he can think to say. "Do not say such things about yourself. You are not broken. You are not evil. Do you think I would dirty myself by associating with such people?"

You're quiet for a long moment. He does not like the silence, so he keeps talking.

"I cannot address what you won't tell me, thought you should know that no matter what you were told at Night Raven College or elsewhere, here, you are valued. You are wanted. You are the most..."

Rollo hesitates for a moment, taking but a second to compose himself and rephrase whatever it was he was about to say.

"...the most exceptional student I have ever met. Your humility is honorable, but I will not allow you to drown in it. Let yourself feel this, recover, but know that here, at Noble Bell, you are nothing less than an angel."

Failing to find anything else to say, another long silence is cast over the room, though this one significantly less tense than the last. The only noise between the two of you is of crackling fire, though it sounds miles away when he looks at you like this.

Eventually, you speak. "...Thank you,"

"My pleasure," he mumbles, finally releasing the hold he's had on your face for the past several minutes and leaning back to get a better look at you. "...Let me help."

He sits a little closer, bringing your head to rest on his shoulder as he's done a thousand times before within the private confines of his room. Though, this time feels...

The purple and gold of his handkerchief cloud your vision as he gently dabs at your tears until he's satisfied, which he marks with a soft hum.

"Don't get up yet," he says after, allowing you to lean against his body for much longer than he has before. "The fire is still warm."

[foxaftershocks]

Hello I love your writing and I fell in love with Lars (First Egon and Ray what can I say I love men with nerdy glasses and are smart)

I was thinking that the reader could be friends with a ghost that they captured. After everyone leave she talks to her about Lars. She talks to her how Lars and her are close friends but sometimes it is so hard to tell if he likes her too. The ghost comes up with the idea to process the reader and every night she will tell the reader what happens in the daytime. Like the ghost makes the reader flirtier and touchier but also tries to make Lars jealous. Which confuses but also flusters Lars because he does like this type of attention the reader is all of a sudden giving him. Finally the ghost does something that the reader would never do and Lars figured out she is processed but just waits until the reader actually gets the courage to make a move on him. He obviously is his sarcastic self but softens and can actually reciprocate his feelings for her.

I hope this made sense. I like the idea of a ghost wingman but Lars is too smart to not figure it out. Man would probably figure it out in like 2-3 days haha.

This made total sense. I actually had a lot of fun writing this one. I hope you enjoy it!

“I dunno, maybe I’m just making it all up in my head.”

You were sitting on the ground in front of the enclosure, finger drawing meaningless patterns on the floor in front of you. You couldn’t even look at your friend in the face, scared to admit it. Having the glass between you softened it a bit, the embarrassment contained if it’s behind some kind of barrier.

“I don’t think so. I think he just needs a push,” Jessie said from behind the glass.

You probably shouldn’t be confiding in one of the ghosts the lab had under observation. No doubt Lars would tell you off if he knew. Not that you ever would. Especially given what you were talking about.

“Yeah well, I’m not about to do that. What if he laughs in my face?” you said, “he won’t even be my friend anymore.”

“Or maybe he’ll grab you and kiss you,” she suggested.

“I can’t risk it,” you said, finally looking up to her.

A smile began to stretch over her face, pretty, like the kind of woman who would never be in this kind of relationship. You bet that if Jessie had a crush on one of her friends she would go after him. She had that kind of confidence. You weren’t sure any guy had ever not been interested in her.

“I have an idea,” she said.

“Should I be worried?” you asked, feeling dread already curdling in your stomach.

“No, no, it’s really good,” she said, “how about during the day I’m in control of you and then at night I can tell you everything that happened? If he doesn’t already, he’ll definitely like you by the time I’m done.”

“No, he’ll like you. This is such a bad idea,” you said.

“It’s a great idea,” she said, “give it a shot. If it doesn’t work then we can stop.”

“I don’t know,” you said, not wanting to admit just how desperate you were.

“One day. If you hate it we don’t have to do it again,” she said.

You thought it over. Lars would probably kill you if he ever found out. Winston might even fire you if it was revealed. It was a bad idea. It was such a bad idea.

“Okay,” you whispered.

👻👻👻👻👻

Lars was humming under his breath as he walked towards your bench. You were sitting there, spinning in your chair as you looked up at the ceiling. There was a smile on your face, a giggle falling from your lips like a child. He paused a moment, watching you. Something was different. You looked lighter, like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. He couldn’t help but wonder what had happened overnight.

“You look happy,” he said, dropping the notebook that was in his hands in front of you.

You looked up at him, your wide smile turning into a smirk, almost predatory. He felt warmth full his body as your eyes swept up and down his body, lingering in places he knew weren’t appropriate to look at in the workplace. And yet he liked it. He liked it a lot.

“Well hello, handsome,” you practically purred.

He’d never heard you speak like that. He looked down at you, curious, one eyebrow asking in a silent question. You lent towards him, fingers grazing over the cuff of his shirt, fluttering your eyelashes.

“You’re in a mood today,” he said.

“A good one after seeing your face,” you replied.

“Alright, well, I’ve got the observations from last night in there so give it a read and stick it in the datafile,” he said, nodding down at the notebook.

“Is that the only thing something is getting stuck in?” you asked.

“What?”

He had no idea what was going on.

“No other data?” you asked, “why? What did you think I meant?”

He blinked, then settled into a smile. It must have been in his head, the way you’d given him a heated look as you asked, the innuendo in your words heavy on your tongue. He shook his head.

“Nothing, nothing,” he said.

He left you there, acutely aware you were watching him as he walked away. Something was different, something in the air making it heavier, making it thicker. He glanced over his shoulder, seeing the way you were looking at him. His cheeks heated and he wished he knew what was going on in your head. It had never been like this before.

When you sat down at your usual table for lunch with him, your foot grazed over his calf. He could shrug it off as an accident in settling in your chair. When it happened again it was harder to brush off. A third time and he knew you had to be doing it on purpose. You didn’t mention it, but for a moment your eyes met his over your sandwich and he felt a jolt of electricity.

“Have you got something more entertaining for me to do with the rest of my day?” you asked.

“You could help me with Pukey,” he said.

“The six words every girl wants to hear,” you said, offering him a little smile, “but I suppose with you it wouldn’t be so bad.”

“You’ll want to wear your coveralls,” he said.

“Why?” you asked.

“Well, he’s not called Pukey for nothing,” he replied, as droll as ever.

“Aw you do care,” you said, fluttering your eyelashes again, “is it because I look so cute in this outfit?”

You lent back in your chair, spine lengthening, showing off your body. His eyes swept down and he had to admit, the confidence looked good on you. Not that you didn’t usually look good. He’d always thought you were beautiful, even when you weren’t being so outwardly confident.

Sometimes he thought you were at your most beautiful late at night, hair tied up in a ponytail half falling out, tired as you rested your head against his shoulder. Maybe he just like how soft you were, half asleep, talking about science in a low voice with him, curled up in a chair or resting against him. Those were the moments he treasured the most, when the lines blurred and everything felt more real.

“I’m just trying to save you from being uncomfortably wet and sticky for the rest of the day,” he eventually said.

“Well now, that might be fun.” You looked at him from under your eyelashes and he felt the flush travel up his neck at thought of you being wet and sticky, “we could find out together.”

“I’ve been on the receiving end of Pukey’s interest. Trust me when I say you don’t want to be,” he managed to get out.

“Perhaps we’ll save that for after work then.”

The wink you shot him made him feel flustered. He shoved back from the table, not quite sure what to make of the entire thing. He was used to the butterflies and the way you made his head spin, but this was something else entirely. It was usually so soft with you, so easy. Now it felt like things were about to get hard.

Clearly the euphemism problem was catching.

You spent the afternoon brushing your fingers over him, hands grasping at him every chance you could get, body brushing against his. It was infuriating and compelling and frustrating in equal measure. Every brush of skin, every warm touch, every small smile was driving him insane.

Until he was so distracted he found himself covered in the ectoplasm shooting out of Pukey’s mouth. He went home for the day after that.

👻👻👻👻👻

“He was definitely blushing.”

You groaned, head thunking against the glass of the enclosure. Jessie was sitting close enough she could reach out and touch it, palm pressed together.

“What?” she asked, “I thought you’d be more excited about this. He’s totally into you.”

“Or maybe he’s just a bit uncomfortable when I touch him and flirt with him,” you said.

“What are you talking about? He was so into it.”

“It’s inconclusive evidence,” you said.

“So we try again tomorrow,” she said, “seriously, give me another day and he’ll be confessing his undying love to you. Or trying to hook up with you. Either way, there’s your answer.”

There was a thought you hadn’t had before.

“Promise me that if he tries you won’t do that with him. Not even a kiss,” you said, pushing up onto your knees, frantic now, hands pressing to the glass.

“Aw, but I get it. He’s cute when he’s all flustered. I bet he’d be fun,” she said.

“I don’t want my first kiss with him to not be me,” you said, “please Jessie.”

“Fine. But when you do kiss him I want to hear all about it. I bet he’s good at it. Tender. Probably give his all to it. Enthusiastic but in a way that makes you feel special rather than like an object. You know?” she said.

“I’ll tell you all about it if you stop talking about him like that,” you said.

“Deal.”

👻👻👻👻👻

“Hey there, hot stuff.”

Lars jumped, not having heard you sneak up on him. Your warm breath brushed his ear, lips practically ghosting against the skin. He turned, too abruptly, almost falling off his stool. You smiled, a small giggle passing over your lips. Your eyes were sparkling with mirth and he found himself wondering why he’d never heard such a thing come from you before.

“What’s got you looking so deep in thought?” you asked, pushing up to sit on the bench beside his computer.

His hand, resting on the keyboard, was close enough to brush your thigh. You kicked your feet, looking down at him, popping a previously unseen lollipop in your mouth. He felt himself shiver when your cheeks hollowed as you sucked on the flavoured sugar.

“Just… looking over some of the readings from last night,” he said.

You nodded, leaning towards him. Your foot gently rested on the side of his stool, brushing his leg as you steadied yourself. Your pink tongue dragged over the red lollipop, staining it an enticing colour. He found himself leaning towards you in turn, focused on your mouth, watching the way you worked the lollipop.

“See anything interesting?” you asked, red stained lips forming the words so beautifully.

He certainly did.

“What?” he asked.

“In the readings from last night,” you replied, leaning back, shoving the lollipop into your cheek until it bulged.

“Oh, right.” He blinked, “some, although I’m unsure what caused them. I’ll run some tests later.”

“Need help?” you asked.

“Don’t you have your own work to be getting on with?” he asked.

“You don’t want me around?” You pulled the lollipop from your mouth to pout at him. The effect was… interesting. Very interesting. He wanted to see if it happened every time you did that.

You broke out in another giggle, shoving at his shoulder before you hopped down from his bench. Your fingers trailed over his shoulders as you rounded him, leaning forward again to whisper in his ear.

“Come find me if you want to have some fun.”

He turned to watch you ver his shoulder. He wasn’t sure if you were aware of his gaze but your hips were swaying in a way that made his mouth dry and his heart beat faster. He had to get a hold on himself. I mean, it was you. He didn’t want to make you uncomfortable with his feelings. It’s not as if you felt the same way.

Except you kept flirting with him.

He shook his head, certain he was misreading you. He’d done it before, early on in your friendship, and while his crush had never faded, he’d grown to accept that you’d never feel about him the way he felt about you. So he got stuck into his work, trying to ignore the way your lips had perfectly wrapped around that spun sugar, tongue flicking over it, cheeks hollowing with every suck.

Yeah, he was going to need a cold shower when he got home.

When he looked up a few hours later, he immediately found you across the lab, with Hank, the parabotanist. It was like the world turned to slow motion as you laughed, your hand coming up to rest on his bicep. You lent into him, just like you’d lent into him just yesterday and he felt his jaw clench.

Your eyes flicked up, finding him and you offered him a sweet smile and a small wink. It was like something hot came over him followed very quickly by cold. He kept watching as you lent closer to Hank, whispering something in his ear, laughing when he said something, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you looked up at him from under your eyelashes. His lips pressed together and his fist clenched so tightly his pencil snapped.

“Something on your mind, Lars?”

He jumped, Lucky having snuck up on him. He shook his head.

“No, no, no. Everything is fine,” he said, looking back to his work.

“That pencil might disagree,” she said.

“Ha ha,” he replied, the sarcasm dripping form his words, “do you need something?”

“Well I was going to ask for a pencil but…” She looked down at the pieces left on the notebook he’d been using.

“Moving on,” he said.

“They look close,” she said, pointing her chin towards you and Hank.

“They do,” he said, pursing his lips, refusing to look.

“Much to think about,” she said before twirling away, going back to the testing zone and out of his reach.

He looked back to you, only to find your fingers clenching Hank’s shirt, up on your tiptoes as you lent into him. Your face was so close to his. He felt ready to burst.

You giggled, pulling him down towards you. He pushed away from the bench, fists clenching at his side, stalking out the door. Maybe a walk would cool him off. Maybe dunking Hank in the Hudson would help.

Taking some fresh air, he stared out at the industrial wasteland that surrounded the lab. It made no sense, the way you seemed to flip flop on him. Sitting there in the morning with him, making him lose his mind over his need to taste the sugar on your tongue. Then to turn around and make him lose his mind by flirting with Hank.

You were going to be the death of him.

“Am I interrupting some kind of meditation?”

Why must you continually find him when he was trying to screw his head on properly? Your arms appeared in his peripheral vision, resting against the railing next to his. Your shoulder brushed his and his fingers clenched around the cold rusting metal.

“Just getting some fresh air,” he said.

“That’s not like you. Usually you have to be dragged kicking and screaming out of the lab,” you said with a small smile, intimate, like you knew him better than he knew himself.

“What can I say? Times are changing,” he said with a small shrug.

“Not too much, I hope,” you said, leaning into his side, “I like you just the way you are.”

“Not enough,” he muttered.

“What was that?”

Your wide eyes looked up at him and he shook his head.

“Nothing.”

“You know, if there’s something you want to ask me or say to me you always can,” you said.

He considered it, just for a moment, what it would do it he told you exactly what had been going on with him all day. All the thoughts he’d been having about you. The spike of jealousy at seeing you turn your flirtation on Hank. But the way you were looking at him was so open, almost like you were expecting him to say something life changing. He could do it, admit exactly what he wanted and get the girl.

Except then he remembered how easily you flirted with Hank and he had to wonder if he’d been reading it all wrong. That he wasn’t special. That there was no way you’d return his feelings.

“I know,” he said, “shall we get back to work?”

You wound your arm around his, huddling closer as you fell into step beside him. The feeling of your body brushing against him was almost painful. It was like you’d plucked his dream straight from his head, the feel of you going to be burnt into his head for the rest of his life. And you had no idea what you were doing to him.

He would have groaned if you hadn’t been close enough to hear him.

You kept close for the rest of the day, hovering around him as you worked together. Any time he looked up he caught your eyes already on him, eyebrows drawn together as if trying to work out some kind of problem, like he was a maths equation.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

“Sure.” You smiled brightly at him, “you’re just acting a bit weird today.”

“No I’m not,” he replied, too quickly.

Your hand reached out again, resting on his forearm, the warmth of your touch going through him. He looked down it then back at you. You offered him a little half smile, one that made his heart beat double time. He wanted to lean forward and kiss you. Maybe you saw something of it because you lent in, lips parting, eyes turning liquid.

He coughed, turning away. Now was not the time for that. He couldn’t be thinking those things. It was work and you were you and you deserved more respect than his thoughts were giving you.

When his eyes darted back to you he thought he saw disappointment on your face. He should just ask you, then he wouldn’t have to keep wondering.

Until you got up and rejoined Hank and his stupid plants.

Clearly he had misread that again.

He sighed, just wanting to get through the rest of the day. He loved when you flirted with him in the moment but then the moment you worked away he had no idea what to think. Beyond the fact that all he could think about was kissing you.

He needed some space to get his head on straight and breathe. Then he could tackle it tomorrow.

👻👻👻👻👻

“He was so totally jealous.”

You groaned, head falling forward into your hands.

“What?” Jessie asked, “this is good. When guys get jealous they do drastic things to win you over. Seriously. He’s going to like punch that plant guy or something.”

“I don’t want him assaulting anyone,” you moaned, feeling sick.

“Okay well he probably won’t punch him. He doesn’t seem the type. But he might kiss you,” she said.

“You mean you,” you said.

“No, because I promised I wasn’t going to kiss him,” she said.

You sighed. You’d been right. This was such a bad idea. You should call it off now. Let Lars think it was just two weird days, aberrations before you went back to normal. This was not going to end well. He was going to hate.

“Look, I have a plan. Tomorrow I’m going to push him to the brink. Seriously. Right to the brink. And then the day after you take over again when he’s so wild with desire all he’s going to do is grab you and ravish you.”

All you could do was gape at her. There was nothing you could say. Your life had turned into madness and there was no one but yourself to blame.

“Great plan, right?” she said, grinning at you.

“I don’t know.” You sounded faint, “I guess.”

“Just you wait and see. It’s going to be perfect.”

👻👻👻👻👻

Lars was on alert for your presence. He felt like he had to protect himself or else he was going to do something he regretted. Like confess his feelings at your feet. He didn’t know what had changed, but your behaviour was driving him insane. In all the best ways. But still insane.

He shouldn’t have worried. You were perched on Hank’s desk, fingers stroking along the leaves of his latest plant. It was a caress. And the way Hank was watching your hands, he knew exactly what he was thinking. Probably because he was thinking similar things. Things about having those hands caressing him.

So he did the reasonable thing. He slunk away so he didn’t have to watch as you made someone else fall for you. Or at least chat you up until you went home with him.

Only you had grown an annoying habit of finding him when he least wanted to be found. He looked up from the shadowy corner he’d found himself in, studying the newly returned possessor. The tennis ball bounced around the room, smacking against the glass as he noted down observations. And watched the senseless destruction.

“Are you avoiding me?” Your voice was sweet and he would happily drown in it under different circumstances.

“No,” he said, pushing his glasses up with his index finger, “of course not.”

“I was looking for you,” you said.

“Why?” he asked.

“Do I need a reason to want to spend time with my favourite parabiologist?”

The way you smiled at him was making his head spin. You took a step towards him, stumbling until his hands came up, catching you around the elbow to steady you. Your hand landed on his chest, burning through the layers of clothing. You were slow to drag your eyes up to his, fingers clenching around the fabric of his shirt.

You pushed up onto tiptoes, something fierce coming over your face. He stumbled back, inadvertently pulling you with him, his back hitting the glass of the possessor’s tank. You pressed forward more insistently, pinning him there as you tugged on his shirt, pulling him down towards you.

“Don’t you just find shadowy corners so sexy?” you whispered, lips brushing against his ear.

He shuddered. Your teeth nipped at his earlobe and a rush of something went through him. His eyes blinked open, resting on the enclosure behind you. Pressing closer, he felt you suck his earlobe into his mouth.

His fingers tightened on your arms and he wanted to drag you closer until your skin was against his. Only his eyes were still on the enclosure behind you. The very empty enclosure. His eyebrows drew together even as he felt the tug on his earlobe.

If the ghost was free…

It was like something thunked into place. Three days of such changed behaviour in you. Three days of something different. Three days of being driven mad.

He shoved you away, eyes scanning over you. Your cheeks flushed and he could see the sting of rejection in your eyes, something he never wanted to see there. But was it you? Or was it…?

“I’m sorry,” you said, sounding breathless, the well of tears in your eyes, “I thought…”

You shook your head, turning on your toes and fleeing. His hand reached out, wanting to stop you, to drag you back, to hide in an even more shadowy corner. Instead, he stepped forward, hand resting against the cool glass of the empty enclosure. Peering in, it felt as if his worst suspicions had been confirmed.

He wasn’t sure what to do.

👻👻👻👻👻

“You scared him off.”

All of those thoughts you’d had before were screaming at you. Of course agreeing to this foolish plan was a mistake. Lars was never going to speak to you again after the spectacle Jessie had made of you. You wouldn’t be surprised if you were fired for her behaviour.

“I can fix this. I swear it was all going to well. I can make it better,” Jessie said.

You were pacing backwards and forwards in front of her tank, not able to stop. You had to do something or else you might burst into tears.

“You can’t. You’ve ruined everything. He’s never going to so much as look at me again. I should never have agreed to this,” you spat.

“Don’t blame me. You were the one so desperately in love with him you needed my help,” she said.

“And all you’ve done is made sure he’ll never want me,” you said.

“I’ve always wanted you.”

You jumped, whirling around. A shadowy figure stepped forward, your heart in your throat. Tears jumped into your eyes and you found yourself taking a step back, even as the shadows parted and you saw the man standing back, keeping his distance.

“Lars,” you breathed.

“You know we’re not meant to let the ghosts out,” he said.

“I know.”

He took another step towards you, just one, and you felt the need to flee. How much had he heard? Enough to say that he… that he…

“You want me?” you asked.

“I’d rather not have this conversation with an audience.” His eyes darted to Jessie then back to you.

“Oh, don’t mind me. I’m pretty invested in this love story,” she said.

“And that’s why I’d like to do this elsewhere.”

He held out a hand to you. Without conscious thought, you went to him, his hand resting on the small of your back to lead you away. The warmth of his palm against your spine made you feel breathless. It wasn’t the first time he’d touched you, but it was the most significant. Or at least, you thought it might be.

He led to you to small couch you’d convinced Winston to bring in, for those late night work sessions. Many nights you’d curled up on it, you and Lars whispering theories to one another in the dark. More than once you’d nodded off against his shoulder. Now, you kept to your side of the couch, tensing your muscles to keep from sliding into the middle where you would inevitably touch him.

“You’ve been letting Jessie possess you,” he said.

You couldn’t look at him. The only response he got was a small nod.

“Why?”

You sighed, squeezing your eyes shut before turning to look at you. He was already looking back and when you turned, your knee brushed against his thigh. You looked down at it, the small connection between you. Fingers tilted your chin back up and you felt your breath catch.

“Please tell me why you would do that?” he asked.

It was dangerous how easily you gave in to him.

“We’re friends,” you said, “but the way I feel about you is more than platonic. And sometimes I thought you might feel the same way but I couldn’t tell. So when I was talking to Jessie about it she suggested that she… She knows how to flirt and make men like her. It was stupid, I know but I was desperate. Loving you has become torture.”

“That doesn’t bode well for what I’m about to say,” he said.

His fingers were still under your chin, forcing you to keep eye contact with him. His other hand slid along your knee, resting on your thigh, fingers gently digging in. You were breathless, falling into him like a wormhole.

“I wish you’d just talked to me about this. You wouldn’t have had to go through all of this,” he said.

You braced for the rejection.

“Because I feel the same way.”

The way he was looking at you was making you reel. A half smile, a cocky smirk, but eyes that felt liquid, smouldering as he looked at you. You were leaning towards him and his hand was climbing up your leg.

“You do?” you asked, voice soft, not quite able to believe it.

“How could I not fall for you? You’re perfect just the way you are,” he said.

He pulled you closer, lips brushing together. You gasped, pressing closer, fingers sliding into his soft hair, pulling him towards you. He fell into you, pushing you back against the arm of the sofa, body aligning with yours. He fell between your legs, keeping you pinned to the couch cushions as you arched into him.

His kiss was soft and intense, desire melting through your veins like ice. You wanted more, to feel him everywhere, to drown in him. The way his tongue licked into your mouth had you moaning, tugging on his hair until he growled into your mouth. His hips pressed more firmly into you, almost grinding against you.

“Hey, if you two are getting it on, can you do it where I can see?”

He grumbled something into your mouth but pulled back with a parting kiss. You felt drunk off him, hazy and needy. He was slow to stand, hands brushing over your body as he did, only making you squirm. Pulling you up, he curled his arm around your waist, pulling you closer again.

“Guys?”

You ignored Jessie, pushing up on tiptoes to press a chaste kiss to his lips. He hummed, arm tightening before releasing you.

“Are you guys still there?”

“Goodbye Jessie,” he called over to her enclosure.

His hand closed around yours, tugging you out of the lab, into the dark of the night. You stumbled closer, the cool wind making you shiver. You pressed closer, leeching his body warmth in the chilled night.

“Can you just…” You tried to figure out how to word it, “can you just say how you feel again?”

“I’m completely and stupidly in love with you,” he said without missing a beat, arm curling around your shoulder to keep you close, “and if you want to keep flirting with me I won’t be upset about it.”

“But as me properly, right?” you asked, “not like Jessie?”

“She was too intense. I want the real you,” he said.

He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear as you came to your parked car. You looked up into those blue eyes you’d been dreaming about, fingers curling around the collar of his jacket, tugging him down.

“Then you should know that I find you hotter than an exothermic reaction,” you whispered, lips brushing his.

He groaned, kissing you deeply against the side of your car, as if he couldn’t help himself. You laughed, nipping at his bottom lip as you drew back.

“I much prefer your form of flirting,” he said, forehead falling forward against yours.

“Good,” you said.

He kissed you again and you melted against him. Stupid plan, stupid ghost, stupid insecurities. You could get the guy all on your own.

[starfxkr]

i was listening to mother ethel as i do religiously and im listening to strangers and that’s understandably ode to eaters au’s anthem ( ill be back to my first love soon my brain hasnt been functioning the best lol ) but i couldnt help but think about tp!reader and jj during these lines :

“I tried to be good, am I no good?

Am I no good? Am I no good?

With my memory restricted to a Polaroid in evidence

I just wanted to be yours, can I be yours?

Can I be yours? Just tell me I'm yours”

I would still wait with you there”

it’s always like she’s yelling into a boid crying out for jj to love her back and its so evident in her phone call to john b whenever her leaves bc he never treats her the same for much longer . i think at time she definitely doubts her worth due to him being so closed off like this bc she just wants him to desperately love her back.

“And that I never blamed you for loving me the way that you did

While you were torn apart”

she obviously understands to some degree that jj’s harbored feelings are due to his past marriage with kie and i think she’s more so having these thoughts before/while she leaves him. she understands but why should she be the one punished and she is the one pouring out her soul to someone like jj no matter how soft he can be at time bc she knows it never lasts forever

.~ 🍮

"it’s always like she’s yelling into a void crying out for jj to love her back and its so evident in her phone call to john b whenever her leaves bc he never treats her the same for much longer . i think at time she definitely doubts her worth due to him being so closed off like this bc she just wants him to desperately love her back."

it literally tears me apart because goddamn if he could only show her how much he really loves her, but he's set in his ways and he's obviously scared because she's young and mercurial and in the back of his mind he's always waiting for the ball to drop and she's gonna get over this "phase" and go be with someone her own age or at least someone who's kinder and gentler than he is. and then add to the fact that she's the youngest person he's ever dealt with it adds to that feeling of unworthiness, that she's just a midlife crisis or something.

"she obviously understands to some degree that jj’s harbored feelings are due to his past marriage with kie and i think she’s more so having these thoughts before/while she leaves him. she understands but why should she be the one punished and she is the one pouring out her soul to someone like jj no matter how soft he can be at time bc she knows it never lasts forever"

and THIS like on a level she can never quite understand what happened even after she left and came back. during the before she never even knew how serious the relationship was for months because he refused to talk about it and it was relegated to hushed whispers so in her head its like "okay he had a girlfriend and they broke up why is he making it my problem" not yet understanding it was more than that. and when she does finally get it she tries to show him she really does love him and she wont leave but that makes it worse because he's preparing for it to hurt even more, knowing that even now when he's old and mean someone can still fall in love with him, so he keeps pushing her away and he keeps insinuating she's gonna leave him for john b because he thinks she should, and that hurts her so bad because why can't he see it's not like that?

[lessthanimpressedlesbian]

I hope the next episode begins with a Red Storm™️, and that Laudna isn't there to help Imogen through the aftermath

[licorishh]

*FONTAINE SPOILERS*

Y'all laugh at the fact that Tartaglia randomly falling into the Abyss one day as a kid ended up being the catalyst for Fontaine's eventual predicted destruction but all this means is that from the start Tartaglia was intended to fall into the Abyss and become a Harbinger and thus has always been doomed by the narrative

[wellthatschaotic]

scrolling youtube. "how to spot someone FAKING DID!!!" heavy sigh.

[vulpixelates]

got asked to make an npc in a picrew for the game i'm going to be running and ended up making another poison tiefling... i'm so predictable. her name is nightshade and she's very disappointed in your lack of an encyclopedic knowledge on the natural toxins found in and around waterdeep

[godsfavoritescientist]

How do I explain the ways in which the bill origins fic 'A Romance of Many Dimensions' by haley3 rewired my brain without needing to give paragraphs upon paragraphs of context. The fic is something like 200,000 words long. Almost every single good moment calls back to things that are set up earlier in the fic

[spaceratprodigy]

was thinking about somethin somethin nicky "breaking up" with iris while slow dancing with her

[themthistles]

not even joking i would kill for some kind of beyond evil sequel focusing on jihwa. it doesn't even have to be a full time drama. a mini-series, a movie, anything is fine i just need it

[beeseverywhen]

god the duality between 'I don't want someone in my house' and 'yeah I'd like my own kids and no way I'm doing that alone'

[soldier-poet-king]

My feelings toward Midnights are mostly eh, largely bc I'm not generally a straight vanilla pop music person (partially my audio processing issues meaning I can't follow lyrics and I'm an insane themes and lyrics person and partially bc I vibe more with pop that's adjacent to/pretending to be another genre, pop punk, pop rock, indie alternative etc)

THAT BEING SAID

midnight rain really does just 100% capture the vibe of : you're the only person in your tight knit friend group that went away for school or ever really left the place you grew up and you came back and everything is changed it maybe you are, but either way you haven't talked to those people in nearly a decade after being inseparable and yet they've simply all grown closer in your absence and they're all marrying each other and buying houses and you're the outsider looking in on their social media and you think of them but do they ever think of you with the same sense of grief and sorrow and loss? And despite that you know your decision was for the best and if you could go back you'd make the same decision again but that doesn't make it hurt any less

[strwbrymlkshake]

I feel like there's an obsession in me waiting to burst out, but so many horrible things have happened due to that, it's rotting in there. I'm worried.

[8241991]

Kamala Harris is clearly receiving the Hillary Clinton treatment & I’m just like :/ time is a flat circle I get it but how many times do we have to relive this