#it's just making normal conversation like..

[p1girlfriend]

pregnant wife is extra emotional – f1 grid reactions

lando norris you cry because you forgot how to spell “banana” he panics like there’s blood on the floor “WHAT’S WRONG???” you just sob, holding your phone and spelling it out loud he tries not to laugh. fails. but hugs you anyway “it’s okay. we’ll never eat bananas again. they’re banned.”

oscar piastri you’re quiet. emotional. tearful. he doesn’t say a word just sits beside you with a hand on your belly lets you cry it out, kisses your temple “it’s okay. cry if you need. i’ve got you.” asks if you want hot chocolate or a nap. maybe both. he becomes your emotional support husband™️

charles leclerc you get weepy over a commercial with a dog he sits there blinking, like ?? “is this hormones or do you actually want a dog?” you start sobbing harder he panics and brings tissues, chocolate, and every single pillow in the house also googles “what not to say to pregnant wife crying”

lewis hamilton you cry while folding baby clothes he walks in, instantly kneels down and holds your face “what’s going on in that heart of yours, love?” listens to everything, rubs your back, tells you you’re doing amazing tucks you into bed and puts on your comfort movie also cries with you, because he’s that emotionally connected

carlos sainz you yell at the oven. literally scream at it. he walks in like “…am i interrupting?” you burst into tears. “I BURNED THE TOAST” he pulls you into a hug, laughing softly “you’re not mad at me, no?” makes a new batch of toast and calls it “healing bread”

daniel ricciardo you get emotional because your bellybutton’s changing shape he gasps like it’s life-changing “YOUR BUTTON IS BLOOMING” calls it your magic center takes photos of you every day and narrates everything with an Aussie accent to make you laugh kisses your belly like it’s made of gold

gabriel bortoleto you cry while brushing your hair he slowly takes the brush from your hand “leave it to me, meu amor.” sits you down, brushes your hair so gently, tells you you’re beautiful “it’s normal, tá? feel it. i’m here.” makes tea and reads baby name lists out loud to distract you

franco colapinto you get emotional because your feet are swollen and “ugly” he kneels down, kisses each one and says “these feet are carrying our baby. i think they’re the most beautiful feet in the world.” makes you lay down, puts a pillow under your legs draws little smiley faces on your toes with a marker until you laugh

max verstappen you start crying mid-conversation he stares. stiff. nervous. “…was it something I said?” you say no, you’re just overwhelmed. he nods like he gets it (he does not) proceeds to cancel all plans, order food, and set up the coziest space ever sits beside you with one hand on your belly, quiet and steady “you cry as much as you want. i’m right here.”

©p1girlfriend | requested | requests open!

[marsdql]

Omg I loved the Heeseung boner fic 😭😭😭 can you pls write one where he actually cvms in his pants bc of his innocent bestie like she just wants to be close to him and he can’t control himself AT ALL

Heheheh anon anon hehehehehe smirk smirk idk if I should continue this tho lmk cuz it’s kinda short and not very detailed

You didn’t think twice when you plopped down next to Heeseung on his bed, blanket in tow and eyes still sleepy. Movie night turned into half-whispered conversations and now this—your head on his shoulder, legs tucked under you, fingers absentmindedly tracing the seams of his hoodie.

Heeseung swallowed hard.

You weren’t doing anything wrong. Not really. You were just… close. Sweet. Warm. So damn innocent it was driving him crazy.

“Your hoodie smells nice,” you mumbled, nose brushing the collar near his throat.

His breath hitched.

“Yeah?” he said, voice lower than usual. “It’s yours if you want it.”

You smiled up at him. “Really? You’d give it to me?”

He nodded, jaw clenched. “You can have anything, baby.”

You blinked, not catching the weight behind his words or the name he’s been constantly using on you.

Then you moved, curled closer to him, hand slipping under the blanket to wrap around his waist. Your cheek rested over his chest now, soft breaths brushing through the fabric. Like it was the most normal thing in the world.

Heeseung felt his body react instantly.

Shit.

His hand twitched on his knee, fighting the urge to touch. To grab. To pull you right into his lap and grind out the need that had been gnawing at him all night.

You let out a little hum, nestling closer. “You always make me feel safe.”

He squeezed his eyes shut.

He didn’t deserve that. Not with the way his cock was pressing up against his boxers, hot and needy, already leaking. From just this. Just you.

“Baby,” he whispered, tight and breathless.

“Hmm?”

“Don’t move.”

You stilled. “Why?”

He let out a broken chuckle, half a moan, half regret. “Because if you keep doing that, I’m gonna—”

But then you shifted again, just slightly, your leg brushing over his. it was too much. He gasped — low, strangled, as a sharp wave of pleasure crashed through him. His hips jerked before he could stop them, and then—

“Oh—shit—” Heeseung groaned, hand flying to his thigh as his release hit, sudden and overwhelming.

You froze. “Hee?”

He dropped his forehead to your shoulder, panting. Embarrassed. Shaken.

“Don’t look,” he mumbled, voice thick and hoarse. “Just… stay here a second. Please.”

“…Did you just—?”

He nodded against you, not daring to meet your eyes.

You blinked, stunned. “From cuddling?”

He let out a soft, wrecked laugh, unable to even answer you.

[archivegyu]

Heyyy

I just wanna know if that is Naeun going to have a younger sibling? If she will. Can I request like how Naeun life changes when she has a sibling or smth like that. THANKS 🤞😋

masterlist

The Princess and the Prince

Part 1: The Art of Being a Girl Dad

hope this gives justice @fwairychlo3 🤍🎀

The hospital room smelled like antiseptic and new beginnings, but seven-year-old Choi Naeun was more concerned with the fact that her new baby brother looked suspiciously like a wrinkled potato.

“Appa,” she whispered, standing on her tiptoes to peer into the clear bassinet beside her mother’s bed, “are you sure they gave us the right baby? This one looks… unfinished.”

Seungcheol nearly choked on his coffee, earning a warning look from his exhausted wife. “What do you mean unfinished, princess?”

“Well,” Naeun said with the matter-of-fact tone she’d inherited directly from him, “he’s all red and squishy, and his fingers look like tiny hot dogs. Also, his eyes are closed but he’s not even sleeping properly because he keeps making those weird squeaky noises.”

“Those are normal baby sounds,” Seungcheol explained, though he had to admit his son did sound remarkably like a rusty door hinge.

“Are you sure? Because Kkuma makes better sounds than that, and she’s a dog.”

His wife laughed weakly from the hospital bed. “Naeunie, come here. Do you want to see your little brother up close?”

Naeun’s expression shifted from skeptical to intrigued. “Can I touch him? Will he break if I’m not careful?”

“He’s sturdier than he looks,” Seungcheol assured her, though privately he thought his daughter had a point about the potato resemblance. “But we need to be very gentle. Here, let me lift him so you can see him better.”

Seungcheol carefully picked up Minhyun from the bassinet, supporting his head with practiced ease. Naeun moved closer, standing on her tiptoes to get a better look at her brother’s face.

For a moment, the room was perfectly quiet except for the soft beeping of monitors and Minhyun’s occasional squeaks. Naeun stared down at her brother with intense concentration, her small finger gently tracing the air above his tiny hand, careful not to wake him.

“Appa,” she said finally, “I think he might actually be kind of cute. Like… ugly-cute. Like those dogs that are so ugly they’re adorable.”

“That’s… actually a pretty accurate description of newborns,” Seungcheol admitted.

“Can I teach him things? Like how to hold a tea cup properly and how to make Kkuma wear bows?”

“When he’s older, yes. Right now he mostly just eats and sleeps and makes those sounds you mentioned.”

Naeun considered this information seriously. “So he’s basically like Kkuma, but less useful because he can’t fetch.”

“Much less useful,” Seungcheol agreed solemnly. “At least for the first few months.”

“But he’ll get better at being a person, right? Like, eventually he’ll be able to play games and eat real food and help me with my evil plans?”

“Your what now?”

“My plans,” Naeun said innocently. “You know, like convincing Mama to let us have ice cream for breakfast and teaching Uncle Mingyu that vegetables are actually poisonous.”

Seungcheol made a mental note to have a conversation with his daughter about the difference between white lies and psychological warfare. “Yes, eventually he’ll be able to help with… age-appropriate mischief.”

Minhyun chose that moment to open his eyes for the first time since they’d been in the room, blinking owlishly up at the faces hovering above him. Naeun gasped dramatically.

“Appa! He’s looking at me! Does that mean he knows I’m his big sister?”

“I think it means he’s trying to figure out who you are,” Seungcheol said, pulling out his phone to capture the moment. “What do you think we should tell him?”

Naeun leaned down slightly, bringing her face closer to where Seungcheol held Minhyun. “Hello, little brother,” she said in a voice that was softer than Seungcheol had ever heard from her. “I’m Naeun, and I’m going to teach you everything important. Like how to make Appa make his funny face when he’s confused, and how to get Uncle Jeonghan to do anything you want just by looking sad, and how to convince Uncle Wonwoo to show you magic tricks even when he says he’s too tired.”

Minhyun blinked again, and one tiny hand somehow escaped from his swaddle to wave in the general direction of Naeun’s voice.

“He moved!” Naeun exclaimed. “That means he likes me, right?”

“That definitely means he likes you,” Seungcheol confirmed, though privately he thought it was more likely gas. “I think you’re going to be an excellent big sister.”

“I’m going to be the best big sister in the history of big sisters,” Naeun declared with characteristic confidence. “I’ve been practicing with Kkuma, but she’s not very good at taking directions. Minhyun looks more trainable.”

“You can’t train your brother like a dog, princess.”

“Why not? They’re both small and they both need to learn not to make messes in the house.”

Seungcheol decided to table that particular philosophical discussion for later. “How about we focus on just being kind to him for now?”

“I’m always kind,” Naeun protested. “Remember when I shared my cake with Uncle Seokmin even though he ate the piece with the most frosting?”

“That was very kind of you.”

“And remember when I didn’t tell Mama that you ate ice cream directly from the container while she was napping?”

“That was… also kind. And we agreed never to speak of that.”

“So I’m basically an expert at being kind. Minhyun is lucky to have me.”

⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚

A soft knock on the door interrupted their conversation, and Mingyu’s head appeared in the doorway, followed by what appeared to be his friends in various states of excitement and concern.

“Are we allowed to come in?” Mingyu asked, though he was already halfway through the door. “We brought gifts and an unhealthy amount of enthusiasm.”

“Uncle Gyu!” Naeun called out, though she stayed close to where her father was holding Minhyun. “Come meet my little brother! His name is Minhyun and he looks like a potato but in a cute way!”

The room quickly filled with twelve grown men trying to get their first look at the newest addition to their extended family while maintaining an appropriate volume level. Jeonghan immediately pulled out his phone to document everything, while Wonwoo hung back slightly, observing the chaos with fond amusement.

“He’s so small,” Seokmin whispered with the kind of reverence usually reserved for religious experiences.

“All babies are small, hyung,” Chan pointed out with the wisdom of someone who was no longer the youngest member of any group.

“But he’s extra small,” Soonyoung added, leaning in for a closer look. “Like a tiny human.”

“That’s literally what a baby is,” Hansol said dryly.

“Uncle Jihoon,” Naeun called out, having spotted him trying to blend into the background, “do you want to see how good I am at being gentle? I can touch his tiny hands without waking him up!”

Jihoon approached with the careful steps of someone who had limited experience with small humans but unlimited respect for their fragility. “You’re being very careful,” he said seriously. “That’s proper big sister behavior.”

⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚

By the time visiting hours were over, Minhyun had been thoroughly introduced to his extended family, Naeun had established herself as the definitive expert on baby care supervision.

“We should probably head home soon,” he said as the room began to empty. “Kkuma is with your grandmother, but she’s probably wondering where everyone went.”

“Can we bring Minhyun home tomorrow?” Naeun asked, having positioned herself as close to the bassinet as possible without actually climbing into it.

“If the doctor says it’s okay,” his wife answered. “But he’ll need to stay in our room for a while, so he doesn’t wake you up at night.”

“That’s okay. I’m going to be too excited to sleep anyway. I have so many things to teach him!” Naeun’s eyes lit up with possibilities. “Like how to make that face you make when Uncle Jeonghan says something ridiculous, and how to get Uncle Jihoon to smile by doing something unexpectedly cute, and how to convince Uncle Joshua to tell us stories in English so we can practice understanding.”

“Maybe we should let him learn to walk before we start on advanced manipulation techniques,” Seungcheol suggested.

“Appa, you have to start early with these things. By the time he can walk, it might be too late to properly train the uncles.”

“Train the uncles?”

“Well, they’re going to spoil him just like they spoil me, right? But I’ve been working on them for seven years. Minhyun needs to learn the most effective strategies right away so he doesn’t waste time with inefficient methods.”

Seungcheol looked at his wife, who was trying very hard not to laugh. “Our daughter is terrifying.”

“Our daughter is brilliant,” his wife corrected. “There’s a difference.”

“Can’t she be both?”

“She gets the brilliance from me and the terrifying part from you,” his wife said with a grin.

“I am not terrifying!”

“Appa,” Naeun said patiently, “you once made Uncle Chan apologize for eating the last piece of pizza just by looking at him. That’s definitely terrifying.”

“That’s leadership,” Seungcheol protested.

“Same thing, really.”

The drive home was unusually quiet, with Naeun alternating between excited chatter about her plans for Minhyun’s education and thoughtful silence as she processed the reality of having a little brother. Seungcheol found himself watching her in the rearview mirror, marveling at how mature she seemed compared to just that morning.

“Appa,” she said suddenly as they pulled into their apartment complex, “do you think Minhyun will like me as much as I like him?”

The question was asked with uncharacteristic uncertainty, and Seungcheol felt his heart clench. “Princess, he’s going to love you more than anyone else in the world except maybe Mama and me.”

“How do you know?”

“Because you’re going to be the most important person in his life. You’re going to teach him everything he needs to know about being part of this family, and about how much fun it is to have uncles who bring cake and do magic tricks, and about how to be brave and kind and smart like you are.”

“And how to make you do your confused face?”

“Especially that. It’s a very important skill.”

Naeun seemed satisfied with this answer, and by the time they reached their apartment, she was back to planning Minhyun’s comprehensive education in the art of being a Choi.

Kkuma greeted them at the door with the enthusiasm of someone who had been personally offended by their extended absence. Naeun immediately swept her up in a hug, chattering about the new family member while Kkuma listened with the patience of long experience.

“Kkuma-ya, you’re going to love Minhyun! He’s like a tiny human puppy right now, but he’ll get more interesting as he grows up. And you can help me teach him important things, like how to be gentle with small creatures and how to give the best hugs.”

Seungcheol’s mother appeared from the kitchen, having obviously been waiting for a full report on the hospital visit. “How’s our new prince?” she asked, settling into her favorite armchair with the expectation of a detailed account.

“He’s perfect, Grandma,” Naeun announced, launching into a comprehensive description that included everything from Minhyun’s weight and length to the exact shade of his hair. “And I’m going to be the best big sister ever. I already have a whole plan.”

“Of course you do,” Seungcheol’s mother said with fond amusement.

The evening proceeded with the comfortable rhythm of family dinner and bedtime routines, though everything felt slightly different with the knowledge that tomorrow would bring a new addition to their household. Naeun was unusually cooperative during bath time, explaining that she needed to practice being responsible since she was going to be setting an example for Minhyun.

“Big sisters have to be role models,” she informed Seungcheol as he helped her into her pajamas. “That means I have to brush my teeth without being reminded, and put my toys away without complaining, and only have reasonable arguments with you about bedtime.”

“Reasonable arguments?”

“Like, I can’t ask to stay up until midnight anymore. Maybe just an extra half hour on weekends.”

“I see you’ve really thought this through.”

“I’m nothing if not thorough, Appa.”

As Seungcheol tucked her into bed, Naeun was unusually quiet, staring at the ceiling with the expression she wore when working through complex problems.

“What’s on your mind, princess?”

“Do you think things will be very different now? With Minhyun here?”

It was the question he’d been expecting, though he’d hoped she wouldn’t ask it quite so directly. “Some things will be different,” he said honestly. “Mama and I will be tired more often, and we’ll have to divide our attention between you and your brother. But the important things won’t change.”

“Like what?”

“Like how much we love you. Like our Saturday morning pancake tradition and our bedtime stories and the way you can always come to me when you need help with homework or friendship problems or anything else that’s bothering you.”

“And Uncle visits?”

“Definitely Uncle visits. If anything, there will probably be more Uncle visits because they’re all going to want to spoil Minhyun just like they spoil you.”

Naeun seemed to consider this carefully. “That’s okay then. I can share the uncles. There are enough of them to go around.”

“Very generous of you.”

“I’m a generous person, Appa. It’s one of my best qualities.”

“It definitely is,” Seungcheol agreed, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Sweet dreams, big sister.”

“Appa?”

“Yeah?”

“Tomorrow, when we bring Minhyun home, can we have a welcome party? Nothing too big, just family. I want his first day here to be special.”

“I think that sounds perfect. We’ll make it a day he’ll always remember.”

“Even though he won’t actually remember it because babies don’t form memories until they’re older?”

“Even then. Sometimes the most important memories are the ones other people keep for us.”

Naeun smiled sleepily. “That’s very wise, Appa. You must get your wisdom from Grandma too.”

“I get my wisdom from you, princess. You teach me something new every day.”

“Tomorrow I’m going to teach you how to change diapers without making that face.”

“What face?”

“The one where you look like you’re about to cry and throw up at the same time.”

Seungcheol laughed despite himself. “I’ll work on that.”

“Good. Minhyun is going to need you to be brave about diapers. It’s part of being a good appa.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“You always do, Appa. That’s why you’re my favorite.”

As Seungcheol turned off the light and closed Naeun’s door, he felt the familiar mixture of pride and terror that came with parenting. Tomorrow would bring new challenges, new joys, and undoubtedly new examples of his daughter’s remarkable ability to find wisdom in the most unexpected places.

His phone buzzed with a message from the group chat:

Mingyu: How’s our favorite big sister handling everything?

Seungcheol: She’s already planning Minhyun’s education in advanced uncle manipulation techniques.

Jeonghan: She gets that from you.

Wonwoo: I’m honored to be part of her curriculum.

Joshua: She’s going to rule the world someday.

Seungcheol: Probably. But at least she’ll do it with excellent tea party hosting skills.

He smiled as he put his phone away, already looking forward to tomorrow’s welcome party and whatever chaos his brilliant, terrifying, wonderful daughter would orchestrate in honor of her new little brother.

Some things never changed – like his certainty that life with Naeun would never be boring, and his gratitude for a family that chose to love each other through every beautiful, complicated moment.

The princess was ready for her prince, and Seungcheol couldn’t wait to see what they’d accomplish together.

[super-ion]

I didn't react well this morning.

I mean... no... I'm not going to finish that thought. I don't have an excuse.

And today of all days. The one day where I have meetings and deadlines and presentations all fucking day. I spent the entire commute this morning coming up with a wholly inadequate text of "Let's get coffee after work".

And then when I checked my phone at lunch was just a single letter reply of "k" that had me on edge all day long.

I already knew Amelia was a shapeshifter. It's kind of hard not to notice all those little moments when her attention slips, maybe her eyes are mismatched, maybe her chin isn't quite right. It happens when she's tired.

I guess I just didn't know exactly what kind of shapeshifter until this morning.

I never said anything about it. It seemed like it would be rude to bring up and maybe make her feel unwelcome.

She's a really good roommate.

Maybe...

Okay, so I'm in our favorite bakery right now and the cashier didn't even have to take my order before he started picking out one of those weird ube doughnuts that Amelia likes. He hands me the bag with a knowing smile.

Maybe there's more to this than me not wanting to go through the ordeal of finding a new roommate.

Maybe I don't want to lose a friend.

Maybe I've been wanting more than that?

I step back out into the early autumn sun and start making my way down to the park.

I smooth down the fabric of my skirt. Amelia helped me pick it out when I realized I didn't have any business formal clothes. She... well, she helped out with shopping. Back when it was horrible and terrifying.

I think she was one of the first people I came out to. Three months into our current living arrangement and the whole house of cards of my gender identity came crashing down around me...

No. Today's not about me.

Today. Right now. Is about me telling Amelia that it's okay. Whatever she is, that mass of eyes and tentacles, it's fine. I accept her for who she is because she did exactly the same for me.

I arrive at the park and there she is. Six foot three, golden skin practically glowing in the afternoon light. She's like a goddess.

She's dressed for the gym, tank top and leggings and slightly mussed hair. She only works out when she's nervous.

Seeing me, she plucks headphones from off of her head and stands to greet me with a strained smile.

"Hey," she says, handing me a cup, wet with condensation.

"Hi," I reply back. I take a sip of the coldbrew, half milk with the tiniest bit of vanilla.

I heft the bag of pastries.

See? This is fine. Perfectly normal routine. Two roommates out for a walk in the park. Two roommates that have eachother's orders memorized...

We start down the path. Tense silence stretches out. I should say something. One of us needs to say something.

"So..." she begins, finally.

"I love you!"

We both freeze. She blinks at me, mouth slightly parted in startlement as my face rapidly heats.

Probably not the best way to start this conversation, but I guess I'm committed now.

"Bottom line up front," I say. "I love you."

(Wow... that feels really good to say out loud...)

"You've been an amazing friend and I couldn't ask for a better roommate and I think I've fallen in love with you and I guess I want you to know that regardless of how else this conversation goes."

"Okay," she replies. "Wow... I'm... I wasn't expecting that, but okay..."

She relaxes. I didn't realize how much tension she was holding until her shoulders droop in relief.

Then she grins at me. Sweet and goofy and bashful.

"Okay," she repeats. "I guess I owe you an explanation. Let's start from the beginning..."

You scream, seeing a monster in place of your roommate. "Yeah," it says, staring back, "not my best morning."

[zen-not-a-llama]

you really get a perspective on how clinically insane the motogp fandom is when you look at the main “generic” ship compared to other fandoms…usually the main pairing in a fandom are two plain Guys who are just Dudes. they’ll be childhood acquaintances who barely graze eachother on track every once in a while or make eye contact during regular conversations.

but our main GENERIC ship is motorcycle god himself incarnated in the flesh x a maniacal child devotee that worshipped him, only for said God to spit in his face and try to ruin his career. it’s a filthy toxic 14 year age gap slash exploitative power dynamic yaoi that generationally divided even the FANS with on-track fighting so ugly that there’s still splitting discourse about it A DECADE LATER. his former idolizer has started desecrating his grave and breaking down his empire one brick at a time, taking records that were previously his, all while he watches on. their narrative is so deeply entwined and rancid that their red string of fate might as well be a chain slathered in blood.

mention it to a motogp fan and they’ll casually agree like “yeah that’s rosquez. duh.” we’re so conditioned to what’d be madness in any normal person’s eyes and EYE think that’s great. crackhead sport with fans to match its freak. fandom imitates blorbo or however the saying goes

[sevsevteen]

Filming that day had been a joy.

You remembered laughing until your cheeks hurt during the breaks - remembered being the one chasing after Seungkwan with the gopro cam when he tripped over the cushion - remembered guiding the camera into Vernon’s face mid-bite, making Mingyu snort his drink out of his nose.

You’d helped with interviews, cracked jokes behind the camera to make the members laugh, even offered to do the slate for some takes - just so you could be more involved. You remembered Mingyu grinning at your enthusiasm, how Seungkwan had declared, “Give her a PD-nim name already!”

So when the video dropped on YouTube that evening, you rushed to your laptop, practically bouncing on the bed. Your heart gave a little flutter of excitement as you immediately clicked the link, eager.

The intro played. Starting with a montage of everyone's preparations. There was BooSeokSoon's high energy, Joshua and Jeonghan fighting about a minor thing in the background. You smiled, remembering how it was over whether Joshua had stepped on Jeonghan's shoes. Then, a scene of them all rehearsing a formation – you were clearly there, in the middle, your laugh echoing with Seokmin's just off-camera. But the clip quickly cut away, focusing on a close-up of Jun's focused expression.

Your smile faltered. That wasn't anything, right?

You watched on, feeling a growing unease. Another group shot, then a quick pan that skimmed past you to focus on Vernon. A segment showing them eating dinner now, a chaotic, funny scene you remembered vividly. You were there, right next to Hao, gesturing wildly while you told a story about your off-day before. The camera lingered on Minghao, then cut to Seungkwan’s reaction. You were completely out of frame.

Your brows furrowed. Wait—what?

Clip after clip, scene after scene, you found yourself… missing. It was as if you were a ghost in your own memories. The wide shots that captured everyone briefly included you, but any close-ups, any significant interactions, any moment where you might've stolen a bit of the spotlight – they were edited out. It wasn't subtle. It was deliberate. By the end of the 30-minute vlog, you counted a mere two scenes where you were clearly visible and identifiable for more than a fleeting second. One was a wide shot where you were indistinguishable from the rest, and the other was a brief, awkward close-up of you laughing with someone who was then immediately spotlighted.

Your stomach dropped.

You remembered holding that camera. You remembered being there.

Leaned back, you blinked rapidly. Did you imagine it? Were you just…not good enough? Not funny enough?

Scrubing through the timeline, confusion gave way to disbelief. You opened the comments - chest tightening with each scroll.

“Where’s our girl??”

“She filmed a bunch for this, why’d they cut her?”

“Not again…this editing feels weird.”

But below that came the others:

“She doesn’t talk much in these vids anyway.”

“Maybe the addition just wasn’t there lol.”

“Honestly I didn’t notice she was gone.”

You quietly shut the laptop. Your room was too quiet. Too full of static.

You stared at the screen a while longer, chest tight, until the browser blurred from the tears you refused to let fall.

.

The dorm was quieter than usual in the morning.

You could feel it in the way Cheol looked at you with too much softness. In how Mingyu hovered but didn’t joke. Even Dino - usually loud and dancing to a random song - gave you space, almost like he didn’t know what to say.

You greeted them like normal, clicking your room door shut behind you.

“Morning!”

“Hey…” They all watched you too carefully, unsure if you knew — or if they should bring it up. “Did you see the new video they just released?”

But you didn’t want their pity. You didn’t want the conversation. Not right now.

So you smiled, that same practiced smile you’d worn through hundreds of stages.

“I haven’t watched the video yet,” you said breezily, sliding onto the stool beside Dino. “Was it good?”

The members exchanged looks.

“It was, but they had to do some more editing,” Vernon quickly cut in. “they forgot to cut a clip where Mingyu cursed - you should save the view till they re-edit, yeah?”

Your smile didn’t falter. But your eyes didn’t join in.

You pretended not to notice Seungcheol quietly slip out the door to pick up his phone right after.

.

You sat cross-legged on the bed, screen dimmed low as your thumb mindlessly flicked through the comments section again. Some messages were kind. Some weren’t. But they all echoed louder than they should.

You hadn’t even realized how long you’d been reading until a soft knock echoed against your door.

You quickly locked your phone, blinking hard to clear your expression.

“Come in,” you called out, voice level.

The door creaked open.

Joshua peeked in gently, holding two mugs of warm tea. “Hey. Brought you something.”

You managed a tired smile. “You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to,” he said simply, stepping in and setting one mug on the nightstand. The bed dipped beside you as he sat.

For a moment, the both of you just sat in silence. Just the quiet sound of AC humming and the weight of what wasn’t said.

“You okay?” he asked gently.

“I’m fine,” you replied quickly. Too quickly.

Joshua tilted his head. “That’s not what I asked.”

Your shoulders slumped, fingers curled around the warm mug, grateful for the way it grounded you.

After a long pause, you finally muttered, “I actually...watched the video already.”

Joshua didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to - the way his eyes softened with a sigh was enough.

“I just…” you exhaled. “Maybe I didn’t say anything interesting. Or maybe I wasn’t needed in the edit. It’s okay. Really.”

But then, your voice cracked just slightly.

“Maybe I just don’t stand out enough.”

Before Joshua could speak, a loud shuffle came from outside the room - then, the door burst open.

Seungkwan, Seokmin, and Mingyu stumbled in first, followed by Vernon, Woozi, and Hoshi right behind them.

“I told you guys not to eavesdrop,” Joshua muttered, but didn’t stop the small smile tugging at his lips when he turned to fac them.

“Not me, I didn’t,” Woozi said, leaning on the doorframe. “I was passing by. With intent.”

You blinked, a little overwhelmed. “Why are you all here?”

“Because the company sucks,” Dino said bluntly, earning a few groans from the others. “And because we’re going to fix it.”

Jeonghan sighed. “You were the one running around helping everyone. Holding the cam. Even the behind-the-scenes of the behind-the-scenes.” His tone softened. “We all saw it.”

“…It’s not a big deal,” you mumbled.

You shook your head. “It’s just one video—”

“It is,” he said. “Not because it’s you. But because you worked hard and they erased that.”

“It’s never just one video,” Hoshi cut in, sitting at the foot of your bed. “It’s your memories too. You were there, and it mattered.”

“Why didn’t you tell us sooner?” Minghao asked gently.

“I thought I was just overreacting…”

“Let them say what they want,” Jun said, nudging your chin up. “But they’ll never know the real Seventeen like we do.”

“Like we know you,” Chan added, softer.

For a second, you felt something in your chest loosen - something tight and tangled and bruised.

You smiled, really smiled this time. “You guys are so dramatic.”

.

And later, Wonwoo would slip into your room when you were asleep, dropping a USB on your desk that had every raw behind-the-scenes clip he personally dug out from the hard drive. A silent offering.

On the USB was a sticky note:

“You were there. We all saw it. Don’t let them make you feel like a ghost.”

--

[ohlawdthevoices]

PLS PLS PLS MAKE A MEETING SHOTOS FAMILY FIC I NEVER SEE ANY OF THEM 🙏

I literally love the way u write Shoto

him ->🧍

Meeting Shoto’s family | prohero!shoto x gn!reader

tags : pro hero shoto x gn!reader, mostly fuyumi and natsuo, fluff, shoto is very aloof but we love that, new years dinner, not proof read

word count : 1.8k

a.n : i had fun with this one lol so thank you so much for your request !!

shoto didn’t want to make his relationship public, so except his closest of friends, no one really knew you or even knew he had a partner.

that was sure annoying at times since shoto doesn’t get a hint when someone is flirting with him and usually doesn’t end the conversation, but you knew he did that for your own safety from all the medias.

so it was only when he took a very awkward selfie of the two of you— an almost constipated expression on his face, holding his phone with both hands like a father taking a picture, and sent it to his sister asking if you could join on their new year’s celebration— that his family finally learned about your existence.

shoto’s phone was blowing up the next 40 minutes or so, mostly his sister asking about you, your favorite food and dessert… you were nervous, sure, but fuyumi’s enthusiasm was definitely helping, you knew the rest of his family wasn’t like that but you still hoped somehow endeavor would be secretly chill.

still, when the day finally came and you were standing in front of the todoroki household—gift bag in hand, dressed in something that screamed “respectable but please still like me”—you couldn’t help the nerves climbing up your spine.

“last chance to pretend you forgot me at home,” you whispered. shoto glanced down at you, completely unfazed. “too late. fuyumi’s watching from the window.”

he wasn’t wrong. the door opened before either of you could even knock.

“YOU MUST BE Y/N!!” fuyumi beamed, launching forward to engulf you in a hug so sudden it nearly knocked the gift bag out of your hands. “i’m so glad you came! oh my god. you’re real. you know for a second a thought shoto photoshopped you in the picture.”

“why would i do that” he furrowed his brows,stepping into his home and taking his shoes off. you followed his actions a bit overwhelmed but still trying to keep up the polite and respectful act.

te house smelled like grilled meat and expensive furniture. it was quiet, warm, and intimidating in a subtle, rich-people way.

you barely had time to take your shoes off before someone else appeared around the corner—tall, broad-shouldered, and immediately recognizable.

endeavor.

your body tensed involuntarily, like your survival instincts kicked in. he nodded stiffly.

“welcome.” shoto didn’t say anything, just stepped a little closer behind you, like his presence would shield you from any lingering tension in the room.

“hi… thank you for having me,” you managed politely, though you weren’t totally sure your voice came out.

endeavor nodded again. the silence that followed was suffocating. you could feel Shoto regretting everything.

“anyway!” fuyumi saved the moment with a clapping gesture. “dinner’s almost ready, you can go sit in the dining room !”

dinner was… surprisingly normal. since his father left due to a work related emergency, the discussion seemed to be much more open.

at one point, fuyumi leaned over with a warm smile and asked how you two met. you blinked and said, “oh, at a coffee shop actually.”

“she yelled at me,” shoto added, like he was just stating the weather. “i did not yell at you,” you said immediately, glaring at him with no real heat.

natsuo raised an eyebrow. “this sounds promising.”

“she cut the line,” shoto continued, between two bites. you turned to him, raising your eyebrows “okay, wow. no that wasn’t it” he looked at you, calm as ever.

“there was a clear order. you broke it.”

“i was literally just going to grab a straw.”

“you had intent in your posture.” natsuo laughed while his sister clapped her hands like this was the best dinner she’d ever seen.

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “anyway, he accused me of cutting, i told him to mind his business, and then five minutes later he offered to pay for my drink because he ‘felt bad about the misunderstanding.’”

“i did,” shoto said, already sipping his tea like none of this was unusual. “you were wearing a shirt that said ‘caffeine and violence.’”

“…and?”

“i was scared.” he went back to eating as if he didn’t just admit that.

after dinner, you all insisted everyone help clean up, which turned into shoto getting kicked out of the kitchen for trying to load the dishwasher wrong.

“how do you even mess it up that bad?” natsuo muttered, yanking a plate out. “you put a bowl in the plate rack.”

“It fit,” shoto replied simply, as if that were the only criteria.

you were drying dishes nearby, biting your lip to stop yourself from laughing. honestly, it was endearing. shoto could calculate the trajectory of an ice attack down to the centimeter but apparently couldn’t grasp modern appliances.

eventually, you were shooed into the living room with a mug of tea, tucked beside shoto on the couch while fuyumi and natsuo bickered over whether or not anyone wanted dessert.

the tv was on in the background playing some new year’s countdown show, all loud music and glittery stage lights. you leaned into Shoto a little, warm and full and weirdly at peace for being in the house of japan’s most emotionally complex family.

“they like you,” he whispered, you turned to him. “yeah?”he nodded “i can tell. fuyumi didn’t start stress-cleaning, and natsuo only insulted me twice.”

you laughed and leaned your head on his shoulder. “I like them too, they’re nice.”

there was a pause.

“…did you really tell fuyumi my favorite food?”

shoto didn’t answer right away. then: “i made a powerpoint.” you blinked. “you what?”

“for her,” he added casually,his eyes on the tv. “so she’d be prepared. she asked for a list of things you like, so I made one. it had slides.”

you stared at him. “you powerpointed me.” he nodded, entirely calm. “It had transitions.”

youwould’ve teased him, but honestly, your chest just swelled with affection so fast it kind of short-circuited your brain.

the countdown on the tv hit ten. fuyumi ran back into the room, waving sparkling cider and glasses, while natsuo complained about missing the remote.

everyone gathered around for the final countdown, and when it hit midnight, the room filled with cheers, clinks of glass, and confetti from god knows where (you suspected fuyumi).

shoto turned to you, eyes soft, and asked—completely monotone—“would it be appropriate to kiss now?”

“let’s not do that here yeah ?” you smiled at him as he nodded not really trying to understand why but he accepted it.

[azuremist]

I did not cry about you saying “racism is bad even when you jerk off to it”. I agree with that. I said I agree with the rest of the post in my original tags, which you cropped out.

I was sad because my tags were, after agreeing with the sentiment of the original post, screenshotted for the explicit purpose of being publicly making fun of, for “lacking reading comprehension”.

After clarifying that, I’d like to start over, if you’d be so willing. This is quickly evolving into a stupid internet slapfight, which is not productive.

Hello. I’m sorry if I came across as aggressive in my original tags — I was being flippant about the general state of how Tumblr culture is hostile to those with OCD, and the cursing was not about you specifically.

I agree with this post, but I find that the final statement does not apply to everyone, and, in fact, sounds very similar to the thought patterns of someone with moral OCD, and may trigger someone with moral OCD.

I do not expect or desire an apology for that, though. Perhaps just consider how disordered individuals may have a tough relationship with morality and guilt in the future. If you consider it, then decide that you did not do anything wrong, then that’s alright, too. I would appreciate the thought, regardless of any confusion.

Under normal circumstances, I would not directly voice such concerns, as indicated by my keeping my original statement in the tags, but, since this conversation is now a reblog chain, I’d like to clarify my viewpoint.

Once again, I sincerely apologize for any misunderstandings, aggression, or general callousness on my own end. I did not intend to start an argument, although I understand how those tags may have gotten on your nerves, as my flippant language and cursing can be read as aggressive towards you — which, again, I apologize for.

Additionally, my initial reply to being made fun of was very emotional. I was having a very rough morning, and I got sad when I was mocked, so I responded with my emotions, but I should have de-escalated when I saw that my tags were being read as aggressive, and as dismissing the concerns posed in the original post.

I hope you can understand

porn should be exempt from criticism is CRAZYYY look at our sex positivity dawg we’re never getting out of here 😭

[yanadolls]

preying on u tonight

18+, mdni ୨୧

jealous!nagi x fem reader, unprotected sex, degrading, praising, overstimulation, size kink, sending ur nude pics to reo

part one

part two of this req <3

at first, nagi was overjoyed to be with you. after all, this was the girl of his dreams we were talking about. you were perfect- so sweet to him, always giving him a smile and cheering him on during his games and spending time with him when nobody else wouls. then, when he had asked you out and started dating you, it was only going uphill. you made him feel special and loved, always making sure he felt cared for and even making meals for him whenever he was too lazy to eat. nagi was sure he was in love with you from the very start.

so when he eventually found out that you had been sleeping with his best friend for MONTHS, it made his heart drop.

nagi felt betrayed for the first time in his life- both by reo who he trusted, and a bit by you. the white haired boy had gushed over you for god knows how long and the other man who was always supportive; how could reo have been fucking you while encouraging nagi?! then..there was you. after confronting you about this entire situation, he did understand that it was just a friends with benefits thing, and nothing more. he knew you had no feelings for reo and he really did believe you when you said you had loved nagi all along. you were just doing it for stress relief.

however, just because he understood didn't mean he wasn't seething with jealous, blood boiling the entire conversation. nagi didn't hate reo per say, he was just very angry with him at the moment. it was a normal reaction to discovering the fact his best friend was sleeping with his crush for half a year, and had even called you over to fuck the night prior to nagi's confession to you. it made his stomach twist in an uncomfortable feeling, and maybe even causing him to feel anxious.

what if you got bored of him, and went back to reo? what if he couldn't pleasure you as good as his best friend could? nagi needed to prove that he was the right choice, not the other rich man.

"hah..s-shit sei! aah, too much! slow down!"

nagi clicked his tongue at your crying, holding you down by your wrists with one of his larger hands which entirely covered both of yours, thrusting brutally in and out of you. nagi wasn't one to get so worked up emotionally, but this was different. he was jealous and angry, so what better way to make himself feel a bit less bad than burying himself deep into your pussy and showing you who you belonged to? you always took it like a good girl, anyway.

"shut up." he growled against your neck, "sluts like you don't get to command. take all of it and stop complaining."

he didn't intend to be so mean to you, but could you blame him? multiple feelings were bubbling in his chest, primarily jealousy and lust. his intense gaze locked onto your fucked out face, before bringing his vision down to your sopping little hole which had cum leaking out. this was, what- maybe the third time he made you cum already? you were so sensitive it was overwhelming, yet it felt too good to stop. your boyfriend's hand grabbed your face and squished your cheeks, slamming his lips down onto yours with a heated passion.

"do you even understand how it feels to find out- shit.. t-that my girlfriend was fucking around with my best friend before all of this? what are you, some hooker? were you with other men as well?"

he moved his hands to your thighs, pushing them up to your chest so he could dick you down even more. your mind was clouded at this point, and the only thing you could babble out unconsciously were apologies that fell from your lips like a chant, and cries of his name. you really were sorry- you felt awful about it.

"m'so sorry sei! f-fuck, so sorry!!" you choked a sob, trying to bring your eyes to meet his. "was only reo- m'so sorry, baby! please please, w-wish i never did it..!"

nagi's eyes softened at the way your dolly ones were filled with fat tears, guilt written all over them with a hint of lust from how good he was fucking you. he knew that you couldn't have known about his feelings for you while sleeping with reo- if you had, then you definitely wouldn't have been going to him instead of the lazy genius. the purple haired man was the one at blame.

"mh.. such a cute thing, aren't you? can't believe fucking reo got to see this as well."

the mere thought made him feel jealous all over again, although he wasn't mad at you anymore. if he was gonna be angry at anyone, it was 100% going to be his best friend who went behind his back knowing how much nagi liked you.

"m'sorry, so sorry sei! i-if i knew you liked me-"

"shh, love. i know, i know."

with another kiss to your lips, you felt more reassured. nagi wasn't really good at expressing his feelings, but he was starting to feel a bit bad for being so mean during the entire night you two were having sex, even if being a bit more rough with you was turning him on secretly. while the fact reo slept with you still would be on his mind for a month or so.. nagi couldn't find it in him to stay frustrated at you, even if he wanted to.

"you're mine now, yeah? reo could never fuck you the way i do, only my dick could make you get like this.."

nagi was confident in his words for once as he intently watched your expressions, slamming his heavy, fat cock into your overstimulated cunt over and over. you were squirming under him, smaller body bucking up into his larger, much more muscular one without even meaning to. the mere size difference between you and him made his dick throb in your gummy walls, groaning at the bulge his length made every time he thrusted inside you.

"i'm all yours, sei! love you so much..! haah, love your dick s'much.."

"such a cute little thing, aren't you? so tiny and easy to manhandle.."

he pressed deeper into you, tip kissing your cervix and stretching out your walls so deliciously. he didn't miss the way your walls clenched around his dick when he mentioned how small you were compared to him, silently noting that reaction. you felt so full, so connected to him on an intimate level- something you never felt when you were fucking with reo. you never wanted nagi to feel insecure or jealous again- you just loved him too much.

"aah.. g-gunna cum again! oh sei, please please please-"

nagi moved his head back to yours, pressing more gentle yet passionate kisses to your lips, tongue clashing with yours. his rhythm became more sloppy as he buried himself deep inside you, dumping his load into your tummy once more while you cried out and came on his cock.

looking down, the messy sight made his dick twitch again. your hole was leaking with both your cum, dripping onto the bed- and your sweaty, fucked body was just the perfect sight; eyes rolled to your skull, cheeks flushed, chest rising and falling quickly, hips still bucking a bit from how stimulated you had been..it was the hottest thing he had ever seen.

"stay still, babe."

nagi reached out and grabbed his phone from the nightstand, snapping a photo of you (and you were far too delirious right now to even acknowledge what he just did), before opening a certain someone's messages..

nagi: attachment: 1 image

nagi: you jealous, reo? ur never fucking her again lol

would he regret sending that in the morning? probably. however, he was far too tired now to care. with a lazy clean up and a kiss to your forehead, he held your tinier body in his arms and fell asleep, happy you were only his from now on.

AN; new layout! i hope yall like it xoxo i loved writing this sm ugh jealous nagi is so hot <3

[caitvi1room]

thought of you

18+ men dni minors dni : fingering , masturbaiting , cum eating , older caitlyn , thigh riding , sloppy making out , best friend older sister!c<3

word count :2.0k.

Masterbaiting to the thought of your best friend's older sister?

Weird. Something you'd never do right? But fuck , caitlyn was doing everything right today , and it started off when you got to your bestfriend – dina’s house.

It was a normal day , started off with you walking inside the door , the cool air and the scent off pinewood hitting your nose. The spaghetti smell coming from the kitchen , caitlyn standing in there , her dark navy hair flowing down her back onto the place where her back dimples was.

She was wearing a black turtle neck with some ripped jeans and one of those fancy- ass belts dina wears too that you had no clue how to take off. But god did caitlyn look gorgeous , i mean she is piltovers finest for a reason.

The first time you met her was after graduation , you are now in your second year of collage but come home frequently just to see dina , and maybe too see caitlyn – fuck you didnt know.

“Dinner is done”. Caitlyns said , her thick posh accent noticeable.

She was the cookers now , even though she fucking sucked at it. But she started cooking after the council was bombed by jinx. Killing her and dina’s mother and a few other council members , but her dad didnt cook because he was closed off now , or maybe because he didnt wanna see caitlyn because she looked too much like her fucking mother , cassandra.

Dinner went well , although tobias came out and didn't conversate at all.

You sat next to dina , caitlyn across from you and tobias at the end , you kept stealing glaces from caitlyn , god did her eyes make you push your thighs together.

“Fuck keep it together.” you said mentally.

Dinner was silent , except from the loud glances you and caitlyn kept stealing from each other , but hopefully dina didnt fucking catch on because that would be embarassing , having a crush on your bestfriends sister? Yucky.

After dinner you and dina went out to the pool to go and get some fresh air and because it was like a hundred degrees in piltover , but caitlyn stayed in doing the dishes.

You had on a two piece , it was pink but fashionable. But didn't show too much skin, dina had on a red two piece with a small bow on the side that she wore 24/7. She was obsessed with the bikini and wore it literally everywhere , she probably loved it because it was her stupid boyfriends favorite,

Maybe after 30 minutes caitlyn came out , dark blue one piece that matched her hair , the sun hitting her light blue eyes in just the right away , she looked like a fucking godess the way her cheeks were pink with sunburn and the small amount of mascara she had on her eyes.and her body , oh her body. It was just perfect.

The way her thighs were , her non existent waist , her hips shes was a living walking goddess , and the way the necklace she had on went in between her breast , it was just perfect.

Your clit twitched at the sight of her , your fucking clit. God she was so perfect how could you not be attracted to her? Okay yes you might've thought of her while masturbaiting ONCE. because dina had told you before that she likes to sneak girls in and fuck them.

She told you she had them really fucking loud , you'd like to imagine yourself in their place , laying face down , ass up – caitlyn with the hex strap on pounding you so hard it makes it hurt a little bit , her tits bouncing and the way her cheeks would be flushing.

The sound of the skin hitting each other , the squelching of your pussy as she pounds it. The way she would hold your hands down on her bed as she leans over you , tits brushing against your sweaty back , her sweat dripping on you as she whispers sweat nothings in your ears.

But don't get ahead of yourself , she was older. And obviously she didn't like you no matter how much a whore she was , her words. She called herself a whore before and she had no shame in it!

When she jumped in the water her top slightly slid to the side so her nipple was visible – god dude stop being such a fuckin perv!

While swimming you could swear she was staring at your body so you did it back , was she flirting with you ? no she couldn't be flirting with you , you were way out of her league , well at least you thought that because well you were from zuan ,and shes … from piltover.

After swimming she offered you her towel to use after her. Oh my god it smelled like her , she smelled so fucking good like flowers? No vanilla. No, she smelled like cherries. Well it was unexpected but not unpleasant.

After swimming dina went to go to a party with her boyfriend , you decided to stay back because fuck party’s and would rather be anywhere but with her stupid ass fuckass boyfriend who literlly was horribe but she never listened because she was very fucking stupid.

Tobias had left shortly after to go to work , he worked in a small building with tech , hextech. It was a way to get away from caitlyn , selfish but understood because hell did she ever look like cassandra i mean if you were in his shoes , a man who lost his wife and his kid is a copy and paste you'd do the same thing.

You were laying down in the bed in the guest room , because you didnt want to sleep in the bed dina and her boyfriend fucked in, disgusting. So you laid back on the mattress that sucked you in , right. Rich people nice shit. 

You turned on a show , it was a random one after scrolling on netflix for what felt like five hundred years because netflix is shit and doesnt have anything , but faintly you could hear caitlyn talking – she was on the phone or something.

Fuck hearing her voice sent a flood of the memories in your brain , the way she touched you , the way she looked at you god it was everything , she had you so turned on that you were going to masturbait to her? To memories and the sound of her sweet sweet voice. 

Slowly , you took off your pants , replaying the moment her sweet blue eyes meet yours in the pool , your slick already running down your thigh , you were wetter than fucking water honestly , its painful how long youve been holding back touching yourself

You slid your hand down your body , the other one grabbing your breast and touching your harden nipple from the cold , and arousal. The other hand slid your panties down so they were on your ankles , spreading your legs so your hole was more open– your middle and ring finger rubbing at your clit.

Her eyes. The way her sweet voice was deeper when she spoke to you was the only thing on your mind right now , simply everything else was faded out , and just so happened to be the noise too. because caitlyn walked through the door.

“Hey y– oh. Oh hello.” she said , her tone cheeky.

“Oh- oh my god caitly ign-” she cut you off.

She basically jumped onto the bed , going onto her stomach and one hand holding your leg open , the other one resting on your tummy  , your perfect tummy that she loved. Without another word she put her head down and her mouth latched down onto your clit , oh fucking hell.

You let out a whimper noise and that just made her grin against your soaking cunt.

She slid her fingers between your folds , gathering your slick so she could put them into you without any trouble , after gathering the slick she put her two fingers inside of you with ease , making you let out a loud moan. 

She was loving every second of it , god having a pretty girl who shes fingerblasting and eating out right now was a fucking dream shes had ever since her hormones started. ‘

She started pumping her fingers in you , harder and faster. The sound was pornographic ,well the moaning and whimpering noises coming from you and the squelching noises coming from your perfect pussy in which her fingers were still plumping into 

“Do you like this baby? Huh?” she replied , moving her fingers faster.

“Been dreaming of this? Dreaming of me fucking your tight cunt, your bestfriends older sister you slut?’ she added on.

Oh god , you couldn't help but let out a low moan , it was begging without saying words , her fingers moving faster and her tongue going through your slick folds , your taste was amazing , perfect , sweet. Oh my.

“Cant speak?’

That just landed you a slap on the pussy with her hand that was on your stomach , it was hard. But turned you on more.

“I– fuck! Ngh- cait.. I-” you replied in a moan.

“Poor baby.” caitlyn said.

Her long , slim perfect fingers curled in you in the right spot , hitting your g-spot and making you moan , loud. Allso making you climax.

Cum dripped out of your hole , caitlyn gathered it up with her fingers and slid them into her mouth , looking up as she did so.

“Cum taste so good mama.. Need to makeout with you.” she said , sitting up on your bed and pulling you onto her lap , well onto her thigh so you could grind onto it.

She guided your hips on her thigh , you were still fucking soaking and a broken whimpering mess for her.

“My cunt now baby , now i need to taste you.”

Before you could speak her lips crashed onto yours , her tongue already sliding into your mouth with a moan , it was a messy wet kiss , teeth , salvia dripping down both of your chin. She keep moving your hips on her thigh.

She bit down on your bottom lip , quickling sucking it so the pain would ease but then going back to sliding her tongue in your mouth , messy making out with you as your abused pussy was riding her thigh like a whore.

“You close mama? How close are you baby? Im gonna fucking come with you.” she said.

You spat on your fingers trailing them down her stomach , sliding them into her slick tight whole as she pushed you onto her thigh harder so you were fucking riding her thigh harder , she loe=ved the feeling of it but as soon as you slid your fingers in her she let out a loud moan.

Curling your fingers in her you kept moving them , her gummy walls clenching against them , her slick was dripping down onto the guest bed and so was your slick dripping down onto her thigh that already had some of your “perfect cum” as she said.

She kept guiding your hips so it felt the best for you , and she mustve hit the right spot making you squirt all on her thigh with your legs shaking and your fingers going faster in her.

“Sluts a squirter is she? Fucking hot i want you to do it in my mouth next time.” she said with a loud moan as your fingers picked up the pace.

Then , she came with a whimper  god she was fucking pathetic the way her brows knitted together and she frowned , she looked like a sad puppy. 

“You did so good , hell and so did I.’ caitlyn said.

“Baby next time – wait, I'm sorry.” the pet name slipped from your mouth. 

“Hey , its okay. I like you too you know , i was trying to give you hints – wait is that why you got wet? From me?’ caitlyn said

“Uhh yeah , it was like the eye fucking at dinner , um the eye fucking at the pool it was all of that and when i heard you on the phone that was the cherry on top.”

“Aw poor baby suffering from me , come fuck me anytime you want okay? But– lets not let my little sister know about this?” she said

God she was going to kill you.

[hhhwnr]

ꨄInk-stained affection — S.R

masterlist + navigation

genre: fluff/mutual pinning word count: 1,1k

pairing: post prison!Spencer Reid x sunshine!reader

warnings: brief mentions of prison.

summary: Some things are easier to write than say. Especially when he has forgotten how to say anything at all. But you were patient—and paper listens just as well as you do.

author’s note: post prison!Spence is my beloved. I’m new to writing on Tumblr and in English (which isn’t my first language), so please be kind. I’m open to suggestions or feedback, as long as it’s respectful :)

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

It started with a journal — not as some grand romantic gesture, but something quieter, simpler, something that didn’t demand too much. After prison, words weren’t easy for Spencer, not in the way they used to be. He still talked, of course, still rambled sometimes about quantum theory or 18th-century handwriting, but even those rambles were slower now, more deliberate, like each word had to be checked and weighed before leaving his mouth. Conversation felt like walking across a rope bridge in the wind — possible, but uncertain — and some days, no matter how much he wanted to connect, the space between thoughts and speech felt too wide to cross. So you didn’t ask him to talk. You just left a blank notebook on the edge of his desk one afternoon, nothing fancy, just a soft-covered journal with a post-it on top that read: In case speaking feels too loud today. You didn’t expect him to use it, but two days later it reappeared on your chair, opened to a page written in small, careful handwriting: Do you want to get coffee after work? That was all. But it was enough.

Over time, the journal stopped being just a bridge and became a home for the quiet parts of your connection—the kind of things too soft or too strange to say out loud. You took turns without rules, slipping it into desk drawers or messenger bags like a secret waiting to be found. Sometimes it was practical—grocery lists, book club notes, flight times for a shared case. Other times it was tender: a pressed flower from a walk you’d taken apart but thought of each other during; a doodle of his cardigan draped over your chair with a tiny “missing you” written in the pocket; a smudged coffee ring beside a scribbled line of poetry neither of you could quite finish. It was a slow, careful accumulation of small things—anecdotes, quotes, quiet thoughts in the margins. You looked tired today, but beautiful still. I thought of you when I saw a crow with a limp. This passage reminded me of the way you fidget with your sleeves. The kind of notes you don’t say aloud in case they sound too big or too honest, but that, written down, felt just right.

Spencer stared at the open page for a long time before writing anything. The journal sat between his hands like it always did—familiar, worn at the corners, faintly smelling of lavender and ink. He tapped the pen against the edge of the paper, like the rhythm could pull the words out of him. He’d written so much in this journal—facts and fragments and safe little glimpses of affection—but this felt different. This felt like crossing some invisible line he wasn’t sure he could uncross.

Still, he wrote.

You were humming in the elevator today. I didn’t know the tune, but it stayed with me all day. I think that’s what love does sometimes—slips in without a sound, nestles between your ribs, and makes a home there before you’ve even noticed.

I used to think of you when I was still inside. Not often at first. Just… little things. Your voice in meetings. The way you held a pen. How you always had a hair tie on your wrist, even when your hair was up. I think I was clinging to whatever felt normal, whatever reminded me that the world was still going even if I wasn’t really in it. But somewhere in those small, quiet thoughts, you became a kind of comfort. A light that wasn’t too bright, but steady. Familiar. You were one of the few things I let myself keep.

And now, here you are. Reading my bad handwriting, correcting my book quotes, drawing ridiculous doodles in the margins like it’s your full-time job. And I still don’t always have the words when I need them. Even when I talk, it’s slower now. Softer. I second-guess things I never used to. But you never make me feel like I have to perform. You listen like it’s second nature. Like I’m worth listening to. And that… that does something to a person.

So I guess I’m writing it here, because I still don’t trust my voice not to tremble: I am in love with you. Tell me in ink.

The next morning, he brought you coffee—your favorite, made exactly how you liked it, which he somehow always remembered even when he forgot to eat lunch or where he last put his keys. He didn’t say much, just set the mug beside your hand and lingered there a moment longer than usual. The notebook followed, placed gently on top of the folder you’d been reviewing, its familiar spine worn soft. He didn’t look at you when he left it there—just gave a quiet little tap against the cover with two fingers and mumbled something about paperwork. But his ears were pink, and you could swear he smiled when your hand brushed his knuckles in thanks.

He didn’t expect it back so soon.

But there it was, sitting neatly on his desk that afternoon like it had been waiting for him all along. The cover still smelled faintly like your hand cream—coconut and something citrusy—and there was a tiny yellow post-it stuck to the front, a smiling sun doodled in the corner. He opened to the next blank page and found your familiar handwriting, looping and full of warmth.

Spence, I read your note three times. Not because I didn’t believe it—but because I wanted to feel it over and over again. You don’t know what it means to me that you let me into your heart like that.

I think I’ve loved you in small ways for a while now—like how I always look for your face first in a crowded room, or how I find myself smiling when I see your name on my phone. It didn’t hit me all at once. It was like the warmth of the sun sneaking through a window on a cold day—soft, unexpected, and completely impossible to ignore.

And even if you’d never said it, I think I still would’ve kept writing to you. Because even before I loved you, I liked you so very much. And being liked by you in return? That’s already one of the best things that’s ever happened to me.

So… meet me after work? You can tell me in words this time. I’ll bring your favorite muffins. You bring that smile I like.

And there it was—at the bottom of the page, a soft lipstick mark, right where your signature might have gone.

Spencer let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, his fingertips tracing the edge of the page like he could hold the feeling steady just a little longer.

He couldn’t stop smiling the rest of the day.

Thank you for reading ♥︎

[gayofthefae]

@username0204 I love doing this with siblings too

Bc Jonathan apologizing to Will did NOT play like Mike apologizing to him. Swap him and it's gross.

Picture him looking at Nancy or Holly here. You wanna take a shower.

And this Dustin Steve comparison is also making me realize just how romantic the LINGERING is of it. It would be so much different without it adds SO much weight. Like little bits and pieces would probably work better if "Steve" didn't say "cool.......:)))))” but just "cool" then cut away at a normal immediate time

Lingering is romantic and they linger SO. MUCH. It's the only reason season 4 journalists were so fed with their article covers 😂. They just sit and look at each other for at least 2 seconds at least once every conversation they have.

Steve and Dustin are great but they would never linger like that. Mike and Will are great but they wouldn't "boundary set-fist bump" like Steve and Dustin.

Ok, here's a little experiment... since Will and Mike are just friends... this is totally normal and not at all uncomfortable, right?

Ok, are you calling the cops or should I?

Vol.2 Dustin & Lucas Vol.3 Hopper & Dmitri (Enzo) Vol.4 Jonathan & Argyle

[hxiiraeth]

The Gentle Sweetness to His World | Mafioso x Reader

(I love Mafioso sm. Not proofread, raw writing. Soz if it doesn't make sense, this is mostly going with the flow of the writing and feelings.)

Part 1?

Living in the world of his isn't easy, having plenty of enemies, getting their hands dirty, using any means necessary for those who owe him to repay their debt; sometimes requiring blood to spill. It wasn't pretty, never was. He's realized that a long time ago, moments when he had to fight to survive in the cruel place he was born in. While he lives a lavish life as a mafioso, easily having access to everything and having people at his beck and call, he still feels empty. As if something was missing.

Until he met you. You were just tending to your family's garden when you'd spotted him by the gate, assuming that he's the one your father was going to be speaking with. Most wouldn't even spare him a glance, let alone speak to them, given his circumstances and his position. He understands that. Why would anyone try to get close to him, a mob leader who's involved with all sorts of things, knowing fully well what he's delving into since he was young as a means to survive.

Either you were blissfully unaware of his stature or you were just trying to be nice, he couldn't tell when you gave him a smile before you continued with your daily life. He was lost, yet seemingly.. enthralled by you, somehow. It was stupid, really, to be reeled in by just a smile from a random stranger. For all he knows, you were probably trying to pull on the strings, to get on his favour, but that never was the case for you.

You were naïve in your way of thinking, looking through certain things in a rose-tinted glasses as you talk about how you wished the world never had to spill any blood, to live in harmony with one another. Yet you knew it'll only be too good to be true, the world being far too complex and dark for one to want such a change. Your father was an example of that — the leader of a mob group. He'd gotten his hands dirty to get to where you are now, to keep you alive, happy and well fed, spoiled even. You never liked it, hated it when it involves arguments, threats, deaths. But you relented, knowing that you wouldn't be able to experience the normal lives like everyone else does. The least you could do was to keep yourself occupied with the things you enjoy, ones that makes you happy despite your life being different than the rest.

You didn't know what you were getting into when you met him, enamored by his presence. He looked scary, yet somehow also, gentle? It was a surprising sight as well to see him keeping a white bunny by his side when you first saw him. Perhaps there's another side to him that he never lets anyone in the outside world knows. Either that, or you were only trying to see the good things in him just like you do so with everyone else.

You wonder, what sort of story would you hear from him, if you're able to have a conversation with him. What sort of person he truly is, what burden does he carry on his shoulders?; assuming he has a lot of responsibilities he shoulders on his own that no other knows of.

To him, you were a breath of fresh air; someone who’s able to live their life with innocence, purity, as if the darkest parts of the world never bothered you, as if the work your family is involved in never disturbed your peace. He’s seen you treat your attendant with genuine respect and gentleness as if they are one of your own. You live your life with all your heart, taking care of your environment and people around you with such care and love like it was something so easily given, as if it was all that you knew. Whilst it is admirable, it too, is a dangerous thing to do, given your family’s position. Seeing someone being so open about it has him drawn towards you unknowingly, evoking something deep within him he’s uncertain of. 

One evening, you caught him by the garden, taking a rest on a bench as he took a smoke of his cigarette. You noticed the tense look on his face, his lips pressed into a thin, unyielding line, seeming as if something is bothering him. He heard the sound of her footsteps against the stone path, weaving through the garden with each light step, a gentle presence that belonged to her alone. He turned his head instinctively at the slightest of sound, a flicker of surprise in his eyes to see you moving towards him. You’d never sought him out, your only interactions being the brief acknowledgement of one another by the front door or the garden before he disappears to meet your father.

“Hi,” your greeting was soft, carrying a kind of warmth his world rarely knew. “You seem.. tense. Are you okay?” You asked, stopping in your tracks as you stood by the bench, keeping a little distance from him in case it causes him discomfort.

Perceptive as ever, you were. Nothing escapes those eyes of yours, and it caught him off guard as you asked a question he never thought anyone would. His gaze lingered on you, a long, heavy silence settling between you both as the gentle breeze of the wind swept through the garden, carrying with it the faint scent of blooming flowers and the distant rustle of leaves.

He didn't speak at first. Just watched you, as though he’s weighing whether your concern was genuine or if it’s just another game he hasn’t learned how to play. “You shouldn’t be out here,” he spoke at last, his voice low, roughened not with threat but with something more uncertain, unfamiliar. You offered a small, tentative smile as you glanced at the blooming flowers in the distance.

“I just.. Saw you out here.” You muttered softly with a shrug of your shoulders. “Thought you could use a little company.” Your words caused a flicker of something passing through his expression — surprise, perhaps, or something dangerously close to curiosity. He didn’t know you that well. Not yet,  but it was enough to stir something unfamiliar within him.

His lips quirked into a half-smirk, his gaze didn’t leave her face as he uttered, “Not many would. It’s not a good habit to make, sweetheart.” There was no venom in his words, just a warning dressed in reluctant fondness. You quirked an eyebrow at him, giving a soft huff of laughter. You shifted your gaze towards him as you prompted a question.

“Why not, though?” Your question was soft but steady, like your curiosity to know the reasoning behind it was genuine. There was no challenge in your voice, no sharpness — just a quiet kind of curiosity he’s unfamiliar with, unsettling him more than it should have. He lets out a huff, the corner of his mouth twitching into something that wasn’t quite a smile.

“Because people like me…” He trailed off, his eyes flickering to the ground for the briefest moment before finding yours again. “We don’t do well with softness. And the ones who offer it either get burned, or learn to bite first.” It wasn’t a warning meant to push you away or scare you off, no. If anything, it sounded more like a reluctant confession — as if he’s telling you something that no one else has ever bothered to ask. Or, he’s only trying to convince himself that anyone involved in the line of work similar to his could never experience softness like any other normal individuals would.

You held his gaze, fingers brushing against your palm, muttering, “Maybe I’m not afraid of a little fire.” Your words hold a subtle challenge to it, wanting to test the waters and see how he’d react to it. For the first time, genuine surprise flickered in his expression, his gaze lingering a second too long, like he didn’t expect to get that kind of answer from you and he wasn’t sure on what to do with it.

You didn’t give him a chance to retort back, your next words earning a pause. “Besides.. I don’t think you’re as bad as you want people to believe.” His expression faltered, not obvious enough for anyone else to notice, but you did. You caught it — the faintest hitch in his breath, the slight narrowing of his eyes like you’d struck a chord neither of you expected.

“You don’t know me.” He scoffed, voice quieter, words thick with something unspoken. “I don’t.” You admitted, another shrug of your shoulders, hands absently toying with the ends of your sleeves. “But I can tell when someone carries too much weight on their own.”

Another silence stretched between you, filled only by the sigh of the wind and the distant hum of the city beyond the garden walls. For a moment, he looked like he might speak, might let something slip by — but he broke away his gaze, glancing towards the dark horizon. 

“Careful,” he murmured, almost to himself. “You keep seeing things like that in people, this place might eat you alive.” It sounded like a threat, yet there was no bite to it. As if he’s telling you to keep you safe, away from what the world, his world, specifically, and your father’s, could do to someone like you. As if, despite himself, some stubborn, unwilling part of him cared enough to warn you, even knowing that it wouldn’t be enough.

“Maybe.” You said softly, a faint smile appearing on your lips, the kind that didn’t quite reach your eyes but carried a quiet stubbornness all the same. “But someone’s gotta try, don’t they?”

He huffed out a breath, something between a scoff and a laugh, shaking his head as if you were foolish, like you didn’t know what you were asking for — and maybe you didn’t. There was a flicker of reluctance and wary drawn all at once. It wasn’t pity nor was it amusement. It was the look of a man who hadn’t expected anyone to still believe people like him could be anything but what they were. People like him didn’t deserve softness, never get to have them, because people like you couldn’t survive long around men like him.

“You’re going to regret that one day,” he muttered, though the warning felt thin, lacking the edge it should’ve had. Perhaps even sounding like a confession. 

“Maybe.” You said, your voice gentle but sure as you looked at him with a gaze that’s steadier than he expected. Not naive, not reckless. Just quietly certain. “But if I do, it won’t be because of you.” 

And that struck something in him. You saw it — the way his expression stilled for a heartbeat, like the words had cut too close, like you’ve reached somewhere deep within the place he hadn’t meant to let you near. He didn’t answer you right away, just watched you in the thick, breathless silence. Then, he gave a low, almost humorless chuckle, shaking his head. “You’re trouble.” 

But there was no heat in it, no longer a warning. He sounded almost resigned after hearing your words. You truly were trouble to him, cutting it too close to reaching deep within the depths of his heart, uncovering what lies beneath it. It’s as if you were starting to see past the blood on his hands, and he was starting to let you — and that might be the real danger of it all.

And then, because neither of you could trust what might come next, he stood up from where he was sitting, turning towards the garden path.

“Get some rest, sweetheart,” he murmured without looking back. “It’s getting late.” 

And this time, he left — but not without glancing over his shoulder once, like he wasn’t sure if he’s hoping you’d already gone inside or stayed to watch him leave. Of course, you stayed, watching his figure gradually retreat into the distance, leaving your family’s estate. You clutch the front of your shirt as you stood there long after he left, the quiet of the night settling around you like a heavy blanket. The faint echo of his voice threading through your head.

“You’re going to regret that one day.”

Maybe. But something in you knew you wouldn’t. At least not for this.

…

He walked the path back towards his car, the glow of the lanterns scattered by painting the stone path in uneven light. The cigarette in his hand had burned down to nothing, and he dropped it with a flick of his fingers, grinding the ember out beneath his heels as he walked.

It was stupid, reckless even, he told himself. It was a huge mistake to let the conversation go as far as it had. He wasn’t supposed to get attached, to not linger in the softness you offer — he shouldn’t. It’d only risk you even further, bringing you into the dangerous world he has lived in for years. And yet, your voice lingered. 

“Maybe. But if I do, it won’t be because of you.”

Trouble. That’s what you are — trouble in soft skin and bright eyes, in careful words that landed harder than any bullet. And yet, as he reached the gates of the estate, Mafioso hesitated. Just a second, one glance over his shoulder, and the empty stretch of the garden felt heavier than it should have. 

Part 2 (soon)

[whimsicalnancy]

— i got into the void state back to back 4 times

guys, i think I've found a cheat code to effortlessly reprogram the subconscious mind to enter the void state, tho it can be used for other things as well.

the cheat code:

so, I was honestly getting so bored of making and listening to the same old type of subliminals. you know… the typical affirmations on loop, layered with rain sounds or some aesthetic music. they worked, sure but I kept thinking, there has to be a smarter, smoother, unique way to speak to the subconscious.

so I was just sitting and thinking...umm if my future self already had everything I wanted. how would she talk? how would she act?

and this wild idea popped into my head out of nowhere:

“wait… what if I recorded a fake interview with my future self?”

like “hey, how has your life changed after the void?”

and me then answering the question and yapping as if I have already had mastered the void..

BRUH, HOLD ON

i’m not gonna lie, I felt like an absolute genius in that moment. like when I would be focused on the interview, background sub affirmation will sweep in through my subconscious. giggled so hard.

i did some research and let me tell you why this is a genius idea and why this would work.

• it activates neuroplasticity through simulation:

when you listen to a conversation that sounds like your future self casually recalling success, it triggers mental simulation a process where the brain mentally rehearses an experience. thanks to neuroplasticity, our brain begins rewiring itself to adapt to this new "reality," even if it hasn't happened yet.

• bypasses critical filters and reconstructs self-image:

typical affirmations often trigger the Reticular Activating System (RAS) to filter them out if they don't align with your current self-image. but when you're hearing a relaxed, believable conversation like "Yeah, it's just normal now, i don't chase it anymore" it flies under the radar. this style avoids resistance and quietly restructures your internal self-schema, making lasting changes to your identity without inner conflict.

• it engages the limbic system for emotional encoding:

subliminals that evoke emotion trigger the limbic system, the emotional core of the brain responsible for memory and behavioral shifts. when you hear yourself speaking from a place of fulfillment like joy, ease, or pride - it creates emotional anchors in your subconscious. this emotional charge imprints the new belief deeply, making the transformation stick in a way dry affirmations can't replicate.

my success with this:

i decided to make a subliminal based on that idea, for the void. i kept the affirmations low in the background and made the interview part fully audible. I recorded myself answering interview-style questions in my own voice, but as if I were already the version of me who had completely mastered the void. and putting it all together took over 2hr not gonna lie, but it was all WORTH IT 💅🏻🫶🏻

even while I was creating it, i kept getting this giddy, butterfly-in-my-stomach kind of feeling. like, listening to MYSELF talk about MY dream life? ugh, it was something else.

anyway, when it was finally done, i was like, "I'll try it out tonight." but of course, my curious little self couldn’t wait. so i hit play immediately. laid there, sometimes zoning in on the interview going on, sometimes just vibing with the calm music. halfway through, I started feeling symptoms but since you’re not supposed to focus on them, i redirected my attention right back to the interview.

and then BAM! everything went silent. like, really silent. the next moment i could hear the subliminal again. then it went all black. then i heard the sub again. it was like i was literally going in and out of the void on a loop. wild, right? 💀 i was laying there with my eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling, completely amazed. then before i could attempt again, my mom called me and i had to go.

now cut to that night, i literally jumped onto my bed like it was a trampoline, put on my subliminal, and just laid there. and yep, symptoms showed up again. then pitch black. i was like, “wait, lemme check if I’m in the void,” and that’s where I messed up, the moment i brought my awareness to the 3D, poof, i was out. AGAIN. i was like, girl, what are you doing???”

but I was too tired to care, so i replayed the subliminal, didn’t focus too hard, and just started making scenarios in my head to help me sleep. and then, out of nowhere, i felt this wierd, tingly pull, my heart was racing like crazy. and yup,

there i was, in the void, the pure consciousness!

calm 💅🏻 quiet 💅🏻 all pitch black 💅🏻

this time, i didn’t even bother checking or analyzing shit. i just stayed chill and eventually fell asleep ‘cause I was completely wiped out.

did i manifest:

not yet. after my last void attempt, i haven’t really tried to get in again. i’ve been working on upgrading the sub and fixing a few music issues. but guess what? i’m planning to use the sub to enter the void again on my birthday and manifest something special for me. something i had been desiring for decades:) and when i do, i’ll show y’all, just like I did with my other manifestations in the past. better be ready babe.

final words:

if anyone else has already played around with this concept or came up with something like this before, big love and credit to you<3

and people, steal this idea! just talk to yourself, literally.

sit down and have a full on convo like you’re the version of you who already has it all. whether you call it your higher self, future self, or just “that version of me” .. speak from that place. out loud. say how your life feels now, what you’ve created, how normal it all is.

stop waiting. start being.

[moecanpie]

Xavier... is kind of mean?

You realize this a bit late, embarrassingly, but he does it in such a way you don't seem to notice until you replay the conversation back in your mind.

Sometimes it's just normal enough to pass off— something you wouldn't really think back to... But when you do, it's like a condescending pat on your cheek, and you can almost hear his voice in your head.

"I'm not trying to argue with you, I'm just explaining why I'm right." He'd say, gently cupping your cheek and wiping at the dirt with his thumb, "I just don't want you to get hurt rushing into things like a child..."

Undermining you, softly. With care.

"Are you sure you'll be able to go alone?"

"Yes," you scoff, "It's not like I need you to babysit me on every mission.. I can handle this just fine."

Xavier pretends to think for a bit, pursing his lips, and you prepare yourself once again to decline his offer as your mission partner — but to your surprise he just relents.

"Mm..okay."

The way he says it makes you suspicious, like he's planning something, but when he sees your narrowed vision glue onto him, he just sends you an innocent smile. He almost looks too giddy, but you end up shrugging off your paranoia to focus on your assigned mission.

So you get to the designated area, only for the wanderers to be a bit too strong, a bit too advanced. If there weren't so many of them, you'd be able to clear the area quickly, but it's taking awhile, and you're starting to get tired— so you bite your tongue and dial for backup. You can only hope it's anyone else but him, maybe Tara? Even Andrew—

When Xavier does eventually arrive, using his evol and dispersing of the few remaining wanderes on site, he doesn't say anything to you— not even an, 'I told you so'— because he doesn't need to. His expression already speaks volumes.

You can already tell by the upturn of his lips, the soft crinkle of his eyes as he looks at you... But he says nothing, and all that comes out of his mouth is a soft,

"Those were tough, huh?" yes. But clearly not for him.

You rustle, feeling the need to defend your pride, "I got rid of most of them!.. Jus' got tired is all."

Xavier looks at you, and he just let's out a soft hum at your words, clearly unimpressed, but overjoyed at the fact that it's only a matter of time before he becomes your official partner.

If it's not a subtle attack on your abilities at combat (you're better than he is, you think, where you strike he dodges), then it's a jab at your intelligence.

"You're so clever. I'm surprised you didn't figure that out sooner." Xavier says, a soft smile gracing his features, full of affection— the sight of it renders your entire brain useless, and the only thing you can really remember from what he said is, 'you're so clever'.

It's frustrating, because it's not like he's really trying to mince his words — it's your brain doing it for you. Remembering his 'praises' instead of what they really were.

You're sure he knows this too, because everytime you see him— he seems a bit more collected: smug in a way only certain people are able to tell. In a way only you're able to see.

It gets on your nerves, prickles at your skin like any annoying itch— especially when he wears a look of innocence on his face, his eyes scanning your form and looking at the slight frown on your face, the furrow of your brows. He tilts his head to the side and asks, full of amusement,

"Wake up on the wrong side of bed?"

I also think some tiny (big) part of Xavier just likes seeing you a bit irritated at him.

[schrodingers-mack]

That was nice??

...

A-Apologies, Captain, I didn't mean to speak out of turn. Just... if that was nice, then whatever else he did must have been horrific.

I don't mind if you rest, you know. Even if he was being 'nice', you probably need it after that.

That... makes sense. I'm pretty sure I've read that i̸f̵ ̴y̷o̸u̴ ̶s̵l̷e̴e̸p̵ ̶t̷o̴o̵ ̴m̸u̸c̸h̸,̵ ̷i̸t̵ ̴c̸a̴n̵ ̴l̶e̴a̶v̸e̴ ̸y̶o̶u̴ ̸f̴e̴e̷l̴i̸n̸g̷ ̸w̴o̸r̶s̷e̸ ̸t̸h̷a̴n̶ ̴b̷e̴f̸o̸r̴e̷.̸

But you've been through a lot. And that whole... thing, just now. I feel wiped out just from watching, I can't imagine what it was like being on the receiving end of that. He was kind of a jerk to you.