#lea's lovely questions <3

[bitternace]

i held onto you, with a desperate strength with everything—with everything in me

i was feeling tender, it will happen again.

[Image  ID: A digital drawing of kingdom hearts characters, Lea and Isa. The background is transparent with geometric shapes, mostly in bold yellows,  pinks, and blues. They are shown sharing a kiss with their eyes closed,  Lea half-lying atop Isa, on his belly, his ankles crossed and held high.  He half-props himself up with his right hand, and the other lies gently over Isa’s collarbone. He is wearing burgundy jeans, a black sports vent tank top, a blue elbow brace, a gold sweatband, a purple hair tie on his wrist, and black socks with decorative flames. Half supporting his weight is Isa. Leaning back, Isa props himself up on his left elbow,  his other hand on the nape of Lea’s neck. One of his legs is pulled closer to his body, bent at the knee. He wears a grey turtleneck, black sweatpants with blue sidelines, and blue socks with decorative bananas.  His hair is held up with a grey transparent hairclip. /End ID.]

Close-ups under keep reading.

[Image ID: A close up of their faces shown from their shoulders up. /End ID.]

[Image ID: A close up of their hands and torsos, shown from the shoulder down. /End ID.]

[donuts4evry1]

Hi!!! I love your account with all of its fabulous jellyfish information. And I wanted to know, where are you getting aforementioned fabulous jellyfish information? Is there a book or a website or documentary or smth? Do you have any recommendations?

Tysm and I CANT WAIT for the advanced quiz :DD

Oh!! I'm glad you enjoy it ^-^

I get my jellyfish research from a variety of places, actually. But since I'm kind of obsessed with collecting my information in one place, asks like these are my cup of tea :)

My main source of jellyfish lore comes from Wikipedia. Just like the legendary Hank Green, I ended up downloading Firefox's tree-tab extension so I can organize the tabs by natural taxonomic order. It's really quite relaxing, actually.

Wikipedia, understandably, isn't always the best source though (Take the pages for Cephea cephea and Atolla wyvillei for example. The Cephea cephea page is almost entirely blatant misinformation while the Atolla wyvillei contains an incorrect and misleading throwaway line)

That's why the next logical step is simple- Wikipedia references! This serves as a beginning into further jellyfish research.

Let's take the reference page for the Aurelia aurita, for example:

The information citing citation 14 was super interesting, so I pulled it up on another tab to read it, and got this:

Then I just had a field day reading it all.

One big site that's used as a reference on Wikipedia is humorously named WorMS (World Registry of Marine Species), which goes into the specific classification of pretty much every jellyfish taxon (it is very. VERY comprehensive). It'll tell you how many species are in a genus, what scientific name has become synonomized with another, and even link to the original documents that describe the species (though they may be written in a different language and come in a scan- so tough luck if you don't understand the language since um... it's pretty hard to translate a scan).

Eventually that wasn't enough, though, so I branched out into searching scientific articles myself. My personal favourite website to do this on is ResearchGate, since the UI is the easiest for me to use, but I get plenty of research from other sites and publishers. (And pssst, if you can't access papers through a school or an institution, there's always sci-hub and libgen 😉)

The rest just depends on to how savvy you are with google. I despise normal reporting articles on jellyfish (Most can't tell the difference between them anyways), so I skip those and simply go to the jellyfish papers themselves lol. I've found out a lot of interesting things about jellyfish just by searching random questions on google.

Um, but I suppose I do have extra stuff to add.

Apparently, making a video game for jellyfish is a surefire way to learn more about them (especially when you write them as sapient beings lol). You start to crave niche, specific knowledge of them- like um... If they sleep or not, or what things can make them sleep.

Um... Another thing I've learned about jellyfish? The japanese are absolutely OBSESSED with their jellyfish. Their jellyfish spotlight sites are incredibly detailed (if not a bit region-specific), and I honestly trust them more than I trust our English-speaking sites.

In particular, I adore kurage-ya.com and gogo zoo aquarium, though you definitely will not be able to read anything unless you have a good translator (Kurage-ya is written in such an adorable voice.... and gogo zoo is incredibly detailed. I suggest going onto both for full coverage of your jellyfish knowledge, though)

(I also suggest going on different languages of Wikipedia- you can learn SO much stuff that normal Wikipedia doesn't give to you. Like the Chrysaora pacifica and Nemophilema nomurai have more robust Japanese pages, and the Spanish page for Order Semaeostomeae is a lot more beefed up, haha...)

To learn more about niche jellyfish facts, I also suggest looking through jellyfish husbandry sites (Especially jellyfish warehouse- travis knows so much more about jellyfish than I do it's actually pretty crazy).

As for Jellyfish documentaries? I only know of a few good ones, but I'll list them here:

^^ (not a documentary, but the jellyfish warehouse is friggin awesome and they even have a youtube channel)

Umm... So yeah that's pretty much all the things I got for free.

I think any jellyfan would suggest Lisa-Ann Gerswhin's book, Jellyfish: A Natural History.

I'm pretty sure you can find it in any major bookstore or whatever (online, at least), but it goes super in-depth about pretty much everything you need to know about jellyfish.

She goes SUPER in-depth about things like jellyfish life cycle, jellyfish anatomy, jellyfish ecology- and SO, SO MUCH MORE. She doesn't stay in Phylum Cnidaria, either, branching out into Ctenophora and even Chorodata(?) (Since Salps/tunicates are also there ig).

If you want to learn about specific jellyfish species, however, I would honestly just stick to Google and write it yourself. She only highlights about 40 different jellyfish species, and only mentions the textually relevant things in their bio. I would use the book just to learn about jellyfish basics, tbh (since it primes you to learn about the more technical jellyfish language you'll inevitably encounter in jellyfish articles). Overall, though, Lisa-Ann Gershwin's book is incredibly detailed, in-depth, and gorgeous and I could not recommend it more to anyone.

Other than that tho? All the English jellyfish books kinda suck, and I'm seriously considering branching out to japanese books instead (There's one that focuses on 114 species of jellyfish and you can bet your manus that I'm salivating over it rn i am enamoured with Japanese jellyfish culture)

Erm... Anyways?

TLDR;

Wikipedia is a good place to start. Reading Published Scientific articles is where you can get the bulk of your information, but Jellyfish-dedicated Websites will also be pretty knowledgeable as well.

There are a choice few Youtube documentaries you can watch, but if you want to read an actual book, Jellyfish: A Natural History is your best bet.

[nereidprinc3ss]

do you believe me now? | 3

in which spencer reid spends a rainy day teaching inexperienced fem!reader how to touch him. of course, her efforts don't go unrecognized, much less unrewarded

part one | part two | part four

18+ (smut) warnings: inexperienced reader, softdom!spencer, sub reader, oral m receiving, reader swallows lol, a truly sickening amount of praise, like really, you JOKINGLY refer to each other as dirty sluts, r has longish hair, spit mentioned once, thigh riding (moans loudly), its filthy idk what to tell you, i feel like i've crossed the desert on foot i don't even know what else is in here, your honor they're in love, i take you to dinner first, this part is stupidly long a/n: had a fucking field day the three separate times i had to rewrite this el oh el... but think i like how it turned out?! anyway, if u like this PLS lmk bc writing it took a small piece of my soul, and yes there will be a part four!! take care of yourselves!! i love you!!!

You give Spencer half a minute or so before knocking on his door for a second time. 

It’s miserable outside, and though the hallway you’re standing in now isn’t terribly cold, you’d much prefer to be in Spencer’s apartment, where it will be the same toasty 68.5 degrees as always. Not that the heating will magically dry you. And not that you’ll be there for long, if the date you’d scheduled last week goes on as planned. 

You’re getting worried, about to knock for a third time when the locks finally click and the door opens to reveal a disheveled Spencer Reid—not at all looking ready for a date. You take in his ensemble; blue checked pajama pants, FBI Academy crewneck, the usual questionably paired socks. He’s rubbing his droopy eyes, which slowly widen as he notices your attire. 

“Shit, I’m sorry, our date! I mean—you look really nice. I look… like this. Why don’t you come in while I get ready to go?”

He holds the door open a little wider and you step through, relishing in the familiar warmth as you pull your hood down and excess water droplets spatter on the ground. 

“When did you get in?” you ask, hanging your raincoat up on a hook. You know he’d wrapped up a case yesterday evening, but you’d gone to sleep before the team left Cincinnati. 

Spencer pauses in the middle of the room, staring at the antique flooring like he forgot what he was doing. 

“Uh… four hours ago.”

“Wh—four hours? Spencer, you must be exhausted.”

He laughs awkwardly, running a tired hand over his face. 

“I mean… I’ve definitely felt better.”

You kick your soaked shoes off and cross the room until you’re toe to toe with him. Immediately his hands settle on your waist and yours find his arms. His eyes are kind, and he’s clearly pleased by your presence despite his lack of energy. 

“The weather’s terrible, anyway. Let’s just go out another day.”

His features have softened and you can see how tired he truly is—not just in his bleary eyes, but the way his fingers grasp weakly to you, the way his head bows slightly. It seems bone-deep. 

“But I haven’t seen you in a week. I don’t want you to go home.”

Your lips twist. A clap of thunder rolls in the distance and the rain starts coming down even harder against the windowpanes. 

“We could hang out here. We can take a nap!”

Spencer sighs—half resignation, half disappointment. 

“But we made such good plans,” he laments. 

You kiss his cheek. 

“Plans that can be rescheduled. The bookstore will still be there next weekend.”

It takes him a moment to settle into the idea, but you watch the exhaustion win. 

“Okay. But no nap. I want to be awake for you. Coffee?”

You nod enthusiastically, beaming at the prospect of getting to spend the day doing nothing with him. Spencer mirrors your grin, before pressing a kiss to your head.

“You’re so cute.” Heat creeps into your cheeks and you can’t think of a satisfactory reply, but in the end you don’t need to, as he tugs gently on your hands. “C’mon. Tell me what mug you want.”

The kitchen counter bites into your palms as you lean with your back to it, watching Spencer putter all around the kitchen as he works on the coffee. It makes you tired just to watch. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to take a nap? Caffeine isn’t a substitute for sleep, you know.”

“I do know,” he agrees, measuring coffee grounds. “But other than last night, I actually slept fairly well this week.”

“You seem exhausted.”

“I… am tired in lots of ways. Not all of which can be resolved with more sleep.” he admits.

Your heart drops ever so slightly at the way his voice weakens as he looks through the fridge. Sometimes you remember there are still things you don’t know about him—sides you haven’t met. His work side is one of them, and it more than a little intimidates you.

“Bad case?” you ask, voice quiet and crackling with nervous energy. 

Spencer nods, approaching and setting a carton of milk on the counter behind you—caging you in with his arms in the process. It’s hard to find the words when he’s this close, but you manage to stumble through them. 

“Do… do you wanna talk about it?”

Spencer hums, tilting his head before gently saying, “not right now. But thank you for offering, lovely.”

“Okay, well—if you change your mind… if there’s anything I can do to make you feel better…”

Finally he stops with the teasing—the unabashed staring at your lips, the faux-attentive nods—and drops his head to your level to kiss you properly. It’s obviously an attempt to get you to shut up, you’re not dumb enough so as to miss that—but you don’t really care why he’s doing it so long as he does it at all. 

“I feel pretty great right now, actually,” he murmurs against your lips, a hint of a smile coloring his words. “Do you want sugar in yours?”

“Um…”

Your eyes dart helplessly between his as he pulls away and you struggle to un-fluster yourself enough to answer his simple question. Spencer seems to delight in this. The longer it takes you, the bigger his perfect smile gets. 

“You took too long. You’re getting sugar.”

“Are you sure there’s nothing I can do?” you plead later on the couch, for the third or fourth time, setting your mostly-empty mug on the coffee table. 

His eyebrows raise. 

“I’m sure, honey.”

“But I want to help,” you pout, pulling your knees into your chest. Spencer regards you for a moment from the other end of the couch, before beckoning you closer wordlessly. 

“You are helping,” he assures you, gently grabbing your wrist as you crawl into his lap. He rubs soothing circles into the delicate skin with his thumb. “You being here and being you is plenty.”

It’s the closest you’ve been to him since before he left, and while you’ve all but given up on asking him to sleep with you, it doesn’t mean you don’t think about it multiple times per day. It’s especially difficult to keep your thoughts PG when you haven’t seen him in a week, and his hair is all messy, and he’s got his pajamas on, and you’re in his lap, and he’s looking at you like that. 

“What are you thinking about?” Spencer murmurs, likely concerned by your lack of response and the glazed-over look in your eyes. You reanimate, averting your gaze to the spot on your thigh he’s now rubbing absentmindedly. 

“Nothing. I just missed you.”

“I missed you a lot, too.” You don’t even have to look up to know that his brows have twisted into a pleasant sort of bemusement, like you are a particularly complex puzzle—you can hear it as he continues speaking. “I’m still not used to having something external take up so much of my attention while I’m trying to do my job. I’ve never had that before. Not something good, anyway. It’s like every time I leave, I’m thinking about you more than the time before. And I was already thinking about you a lot.”

The corner of your mouth twitches as he rambles. 

“Really?”

“Yeah, really,” he chuckles. “You prove to be incredibly distracting even when you’re hundreds of miles away. Do you know how many nights I almost called you before realizing it was one in the morning?”

A slow smile spreads over your face. 

“Oh? Whatever could you have been calling about at one in the morning?”

You’re teasing him, and it works. He blushes adorably. 

“Um… probably exactly what you’d expect. In hindsight I think it’s best that I refrained.”

“What?” You grin, incredulous, forgetting your shyness and leaning closer. “You totally should’ve. I’ve never had phone sex before. I would’ve done it.”

“No, you wouldn’t!” Spencer laughs. “It would have just been me talking to myself with you on the other line. I don’t think phone sex is really up your alley.”

“Shut up,” you laugh as your lips meet. He smiles into the kiss. Before you get too lost in it, you pull away, leaning back when he tries to follow you. “I think you’re over-complicating it. It’s just dirty talk, right? I can totally do that. It’s just, like… blah blah blah, dirty slut, something something…”

You trail off as he gives you a look. Poker faced—aside from the slightly narrowed eyes sparkling with humor. 

“You want me to refer to you as a dirty slut?”

Maintaining eye contact is an uphill battle—you crack in a matter of seconds, resting your forehead against his and closing your eyes stubbornly. 

“No. For all you know I want to call you a dirty slut.”

It’s a ridiculous, but he recognizes the bravado for what it is, still smiling slightly as he rubs your hips. 

“Right. I apologize for assuming. But just for future reference, I don’t want to be called that, and I don’t think I’d be comfortable calling you that, either.”

“But you can call me other stuff,” you remind your boyfriend, pulling back and still not looking at him. 

“Yeah? Like what?”

And just like that, you’re shy again. 

“I don’t know… nice things. I like when you’re nice.”

“I like being nice to you.” It’s so sincere-sounding that you meet his gaze, examining his face. His eyes are clear and soft on you, the only source of warm light on such a grey day, as his hands keep running slow lines over your sides. “Kiss?”

And how could you ever deny him anything? 

As has happened before, the kiss starts out innocent enough. And it’s not that it gets particularly heated, or anything—it’s just that it doesn’t end, and after a few moments your mouth slips open and so does his and that’swhat gets both of you worked up over a period of minutes. Pressure and heat that you’re becoming accustomed to build between your legs, and you don’t even notice that you’ve begun rocking back and forth in his lap until Spencer is attempting to still your hips with patient but assertive hands. 

“Honey, that’s—slow down, sweetheart.”

Finally he gets a grip on you and you realize as soon as you stop moving that there had been friction occurring—and you’re pretty damn sure you know what you were grinding against. 

Your whole body feels hot with arousal and embarrassment. 

“Oh my god—I’m sorry,” you mumble, moving your hands from his shoulders to cover your face. “That was an accident, I—”

“It’s fine,” Spencer assures you, squeezing your waist gently. “I just wanted to make sure you knew what you were doing because I know we haven’t… gotten there, yet.”

A moment passes—your hands fall to the FBI stitching across his chest, studying the letters without really seeing them. You haven’t gotten there yet… but why not? Why haven’t you touched him, or even seen him? You think back to the few times he’s touched you and realize that you had been too busy with either your own insecurities or pleasure to genuinely consider how it might be affecting him. He says your name gently, drawing your attention. 

“You okay?”

You nod haltingly, brow furrowed as you think. 

“I—yeah. I was just realizing that I haven’t, like… touched you, yet.”

It’s silent for another long second, and you glance up, to where he’s studying you with a dissonant kind of relaxed scrutiny—a knowing confidence that probably comes with a lot more experience than you have. 

“Do you want to?”

Woah. 

Usually you have to beg on hands and knees and prepare a slideshow presentation before he agrees to doing anything sexual in nature. He’s never so overtly invited or initiated it before. Not that you’re complaining by any stretch of the imagination.  

You nod shyly, still fiddling with the fabric of his shirt. 

“If you want to, I can show you how. But it’s also absolutely okay if you don’t.”

Show you how? 

Your brain is melting into sludge at the idea. 

“I do,” you admit, meeting his gaze again. It’s kind, and you know he really wouldn’t be upset if you said no—but now that you’ve thought about it, you feel deeply compelled to try. 

“Okay. Come here, first.” You lean forward expectantly, eyes fluttering shut as his hand finds the back of your neck and he pulls you into another soft kiss. By the time your lips separate again, your head is spinning. “We’re just trying something, okay? You’re allowed to stop whenever you feel like it. Really low stakes. Got it?”

You nod, still close enough that your noses brush as you do. 

“Got it.”

He presses one more chaste kiss to your lips before pulling away and leaning back into the couch. 

“Scoot back a little, angel.”

Wordlessly you do so, heart pounding with nervous excitement as he lifts his hips and slides his pajama pants down just enough to where he can comfortably pull himself out, and—

Your breath catches. 

Now, you may be about as virginal as they come, but you weren’t born yesterday. You’ve seen porn, you’ve received unsolicited nudes—it is the 21st century. Yet never before have you thought to yourself; wow, that dick is the pinnacle of beauty. Perfect. Breathtaking. But there’s just no other way to describe him. 

So that’s what hits you first—how unexpectedly pretty it is. 

The size sinks in a quick second later. 

You can’t tell with perfect accuracy how many inches he is, but you’re pretty damn sure he’s big. That’s meant to fit inside of you?

No, no—that’s a consideration for another day. Right now you need to stop staring like an idiot. You glance up at his face, and he’s sporting a cocky little half-smile which lets you know you’ve been caught. Motherfucker he’s so hot. It’s unnerving. 

“Do you have something you’d like to say?” he asks politely, quite obviously containing his amusement. But you can’t summon a sufficiently sarcastic response. 

Your voice comes so soft when you reply, “you’re pretty.”

Spencer melts, eyes impossibly softening. 

“Pretty?” His smile is earnest now. He strokes your cheek and you can’t not lean into his touch. 

“Mhm. I want to, um…” your lips twist to the side as you look back down, finding he’s not gotten less intimidating since you last checked. “But what if I’m bad at it?” you whisper. He chuckles, brushing hair over your shoulder.  

“It’s kind of a hard thing to be bad at. And I’m gonna help you, okay?”

It’s the honesty with which he speaks to you that makes you feel so safe. There are no hidden intentions or words that seem to mean one thing but really mean another. Spencer wants you as a person more than he wants you as a body and that’s been clear since the first time he touched you. You take a deep breath. 

“Okay. What do I do?”

“First, you’re gonna spit in your hand.”

You look up, alarmed. 

“You want me to intentionally get my spit on you? Is that not your worst nightmare?”

“Believe it or not, I’m not super worried about yours,” he teases. “But if you’d prefer, I can spit in your hand.”

“Actually, mine is fine,” you laugh nervously. 

Hesitantly, you do as instructed, even though it seems frankly bizarre. 

“Good. Now just wrap your hand around it, like this.” His voice is quiet, focused as he guides your hand downward. Your heart rate ticks up again as he encourages you to wrap your hand around the base of his cock. He feels much warmer than you’d expected—his skin is silken beneath your touch but he’s undeniably hard and that sort of eliminates any sense of him being fragile from the equation. 

“It’s gonna be less sensitive down here—and then, up here—” he slides your hand back up, covering your thumb with his own and swiping it just below the head of his cock on the underside. He hisses and you look up in fascination. “That’s the most sensitive part.”

Without further instruction, you do it again, keeping your touch light and watching his face for a reaction. His drawn brows twitch, furrowing deeper for a second, and his lips part. A heavy exhalation passes between them and quickly builds into a breathy laugh. 

“What?” you murmur, over-eager to please and very nervous to do something wrong. 

“Nothing. Just feels good, that’s all.”

“Don’t laugh,” you pout. Of course that makes him laugh again, and he leans forward to kiss your head. 

“I’m laughing at myself, angel. I’m a grown man fighting for my life from a handjob that you’ve barely started. I knew it would be different with you but I didn’t realize it would be this different.”

Heat rises in your cheeks and you look away. 

“You don’t have to lie to make me feel better.”

“I’m not lying,” he urges, grabbing your free hand and encouraging you to uncurl your fingers. His thumb traces circles in your open palm, before capturing your entire hand in his. “Do you feel how much softer your hand is than mine?”

You frown, attempting to feel whatever it is that he’s pointing out. Despite the fact that you think he has very nice hands, you realize he’s right. By no means would you say that they’re rough, but you can tell where his gun normally sits in his hands, where his fountain pen rubs against his fingers. “Yeah.”

“Yeah. Anything you do is going to be perfect because it’s you.”

Spencer drops his hand to your leg, rubbing it soothingly. The other moves to cover yours—the one wrapped around him. 

“You’re gonna help me, right?” you ask quietly. Some adventurous part of you is very excited about this as an experiment—fascinated by the reactions you’ve already gotten from him and eager to push it. 

“I am. Little bit tighter, honey. I’ll tell you if it’s too much.”

You do as you’re told, and he’s murmuring more praise—slowly encouraging you to begin moving your hand with his own. A shaky exhale catches your attention, drawing your gaze to his face. His eyes are, of course, cast downward, but his expression is hypnotizing. Those lips remain slightly parted, and suddenly you wonder if he makes noises like you do. In that moment it becomes your life’s mission to find out. 

For a while you continue letting his hand guide your movements, but he keeps things so slow for your sake that you’re getting impatient. You forgo his direction, picking up the pace but trying to keep the rhythm he’d instilled in the motion. His hand slackens around yours. 

“Fuck,” he hisses to himself. The hand on your thigh rubs achingly deeper into the flesh. “Angel, what are you doing?”

“I want it to feel good.” Suddenly shy again, you slow down. His hips stutter, which you think may be a sign that it was working. “Am I—was that bad?” Spencer looses a breath, looking almost… frustrated?

“No, I’m just—I’m weirdly close to coming.”

“That’s a good thing, right?”

“Well,” he mutters, “not usually. Mostly it’s embarrassing.”

You giggle, a release of some tension, and begin pumping your hand again. His breath hitches and he finally looks up at you, meeting your eyes with his own lust-glazed ones. Heat pools deep between your legs. 

“I want you to come,” you admit quietly as you twist your wrist, brushing that spot underneath the head of his cock again. His jaw literally drops, and a look that is part confusion, part pleasure, twists his features. You see the surprise sparkling in his eyes and it only spurs you to keep talking. “I’ve never seen how you look when you do, but I’ve imagined it. I bet you look so pretty when you come, Spencer. ‘Nd then I would know that I can make you feel good, too.”

“You… you are making me feel good,” he assures you. The way his brow furrows and his  lips are parted give you a feeling that’s entirely new. Normally, you’re the one falling apart under his touch—but when it’s the other way around there’s a whole new kind of pleasure in it for you. You feel kind of powerful. Maybe even close to confident. 

“Really? I’m not this quiet when you touch me.”

“I’ve ha—ah—had more practice not making noise.”

“But why?” you implore, ignoring the fact that he’s slept with other women and enjoyed the sounds they made, and opting to brush your thumb across that extra sensitive part he definitely shouldn’t have told you about. His hips buck up and he hisses, which is immensely gratifying to you. 

“Because I like to listen.”

“What if I do, too?”

In a moment of divine inspiration , you cover the tip of his cock with your hand, swirling beads of pre-come over your palm. Spencer moans and his hips jut up into your grip. It’s a beautiful sound, just as you’d hoped. 

“Jesus, fuck.”

You understand why he seems to enjoy touching you so much. It’s so rewarding to watch as his breathing picks up and pleasure contorts his face—to watch him get messier and messier and lose his composure a bit more with each stroke of your hand. It’s so simple but Spencer looks at you like you’re exercising some arcane deviant power over him and he’s not sure he should be enjoying it as much as he is. 

Distantly you think about how it felt when he had his hands on you—and then, in clearer focus, how it felt when he went down on you. Both were perfect, but something about his lips so gentle on the most intimate, vulnerable part of you had felt like ascension. Maybe it was the emotional component, or maybe it just felt fucking good. Regardless, it seems an irresistible thought. 

You keep stroking him until his head is lolling on the back of the couch as he groans.

“Spencer?”

“Yeah, baby?”

He sounds so destroyed it makes you clench around nothing. Without any indication that you’re going to do so, you stop touching him, and the speed with which he lifts his head again is almost comical. Immediately, while he’s utterly defenseless and desperate, you ask, “can I use my mouth?” 

His eyes widen, and then shut, as he processes your request with a tiny shake of his head—probably trying to clear the haze of pleasure from his mind before he answers. 

“Honey,” he rasps eventually, opening his eyes and smoothing a hand over your hair, “you don’t have to do that just because I do. That’s not why I do it.”

“But I want to,” you murmur, shy and mildly embarrassed by what feels almost like a soft rejection. “I don’t think I could do anything, like, mind-blowing, but… I want to try.”

Your face is hot by the end of the sentence, and you can’t meet Spencer’s eyes as his fingers twitch over your hip. A quiet moment passes—but it’s short-lived.

“Okay. Go ahead, baby.”

Wide eyes dart up to his. 

“Really?”

Spencer smiles fondly, brushing an invisible speck from your cheek. 

“I don’t think I’m capable of turning that offer down. Not when it’s you.”

“Okay—um, should I just—” Spencer watches on, finding your sudden enthusiasm completely adorable as you scoot off of his lap and gingerly kneel in front of him. Your eyes are big and glassy as you look up at him, hands set politely on his knees. You squint suspiciously, eyes darting between his face and his cock, now about as hard as it’s ever been due to your toying. He knows it’s probably intimidating for a girl who has never seen one in real life, and he feels kind of bad about it. You do terrible, wonderful things to him that he doesn’t understand. “Wow. So... it looks bigger from down here.”

“Please don’t try to choke yourself,” he instructs hurriedly, leaning forward slightly. “I really don’t need you to do that. It’s fine if you can’t fit it all, I just—” he exhales shakily. Spencer is most definitely strong-willed but he can’t pretend like the sight of you on your knees for him, inches from his aching cock for the first time isn’t impacting his cognition. Most importantly he doesn’t want to make you feel pressured. He’s trying to not let how badly he wants this show in case you change your mind. 

Spencer watches as you psych yourself out—wilting like a thirsty flower. 

“But what if I’m bad at this?” you mumble, hands curling into loose fists atop his legs. Spencer pushes your hair back, tucking it behind your ears. 

“What’s your worst case scenario?” he asks. Your answer is immediate. 

“That I’m so bad you make me stop halfway through.”

Spencer can’t help but laugh again. 

“I’m sorry—I just… honey, you are really underestimating how profound your effect is on me. I just almost came from a minute long handjob. I can assure you that I won’t make you stop halfway through because I’d rather not have your mouth on me. That is… that’s just not going to happen.”

You lean your cheek against his thigh. He might actually pass away. 

“Will you tell me if I’m doing something wrong?”

“Honestly, as long as you don’t bite, you’re in the clear.”

Your eyes squeeze shut and your lips pull into an embarrassed little smile. 

“Great. Thank you for that invaluable advice.”

“Of course,” he smiles. It fades slowly as you take a deep breath and look up at him, obviously steeling yourself, before leaning forward and taking him in your hand again. He watches with bated breath, repeating no sudden movements to himself over and over as your hand moves up and down a few more times and your head lowers. 

You delicately, so lightly trace your tongue from the base of his swollen cock to just underneath the leaking tip, mapping a vein, and his hips buck as you take him into your mouth experimentally. Only the first few inches fit but the sight of your lips wrapped around him, the way you’re looking at him is so unbelievably erotic Spencer knows he won’t last very long.

From a purely technical perspective—he knows he’s gotten objectively better head. Still, something about the way you’re so delicate with him, so soft and timid in the way you lick and kiss and take him into your mouth has him fighting not to come already. Maybe it’s wrong, but knowing that he’s watching you do this for the first time in your life is obscenely arousing. The idea that you’ve never trusted another person this much; that you’re letting him be the one to help you navigate something as new and as important as sexuality. The more he thinks about it, though, the more he realizes: it’s not your inexperience that turns him on. It’s just you. Everything you do is so undeniably you—he recognizes your mannerisms in every tiny motion, in every glance, and it’s��killing him. You’re like a dream as you look up at him with big nervous eyes, (no, really, he has had this dream) and he remembers he wants to be reassuring you—not pondering life and human connection. 

“Look at you,” he murmurs, groaning and hips twitching as your cheeks hollow, wrapping his achingly hard cock in soft gentle warmth so sweetly it feels taboo. “So good, baby. So gorgeous like this.”

You whine around him, receptive as always to his obsequious praise, and he notices the way your hips wiggle as you seek friction. God, you must like this a lot. Spencer gathers your hair into a makeshift ponytail, resting his hand on your head as you begin to bob it. That, he wasn’t prepared for. He’d have been satisfied with just kitten-licks and suckling but he won’t complain about this. It’s slow, and so intentional as you keep watching him for feedback cues. Ever his observant girl, you’re constantly paying attention. Aware of his reactions. He needs to keep telling you you’re good or else you’ll assume you’re terrible. 

“Over-achiever,” he whispers through a little smile as you down even more of him. 

Spencer is for the most part a kind and gentle person. For better or worse he is also a man, and he can’t help but fantasize about getting you all teary and drooly as he holds your mouth open and sees how much of his cock he can push down your throat. But again—kind. Gentle. So when you get a little over-zealous, attempting to sacrifice your comfort for his pleasure, he pulls your head back slightly. “That’s far enough, angel. That’s—fuck. God, you’re good at this.” The words are thoughtless, muttered to himself more than you as he watches through a haze while you look up at him with glassy, half-lidded eyes, slipping him in and out of your warm mouth, a little faster now as you gain confidence. 

You whine desperately around him, like you’re the one nearing orgasm and not him. The sound of your pleasure as you suck his cock makes him dizzy. His hips buck, pressing him a little deeper into your mouth. “Jesus fucking Christ,” he exhales. “Slow down, baby. I’m—” a louder moan from him like you’ve never heard as he thrusts shallowly turns you on profoundly. He’s so much more vocal than you’d have imagined—sonically and verbally. He breathes out a quick, “fuck, fuck, fuck,” pulling your hair slightly, and you’ve never wanted to touch yourself more but you know you can’t focus on both. Instead you work on making him come—you can worry about you later. He says your name, with an authoritative edge to his tone that makes you throb. “Honey, if you don’t stop, I’m gonna come—”

You swirl your tongue around the top of him like candy and he’s done for. Spencer tries to pull out, which only results in cum both in your mouth and on your face. The orgasm is his strongest in recent memory, and he grunts, watching your lips part and a little squeak escape as he comes all over your face—but you keep stroking him all the while. Once he’s 90% sure it’s over, he falls against the back of the couch, breathing heavily and looking down at you through hazy eyes. Oh, he’s going to feel terrible about this in a few seconds—but right now you look fucking perfect. Your eyes are wide, nervous as his essence drips over your face and down your neck—he groans when you swallow cautiously, averting his eyes to the ceiling lest he do another thing he regrets. 

“Baby, I am so sorry,” he mutters, forcibly clearing the haze of orgasm from his mind and sitting up, fixing his pants and looking around before locating the box of tissues on the side table. “I’m so, so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” You look up at him attentively as he wipes himself from your face as gently as he can. 

“Why not?”

“Because I didn’t ask you first. I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

Spencer guides your head around by your chin, wiping your jaw and lips. 

“It’s okay, Spence, I—”

“No, it’s not,” he cuts you off, trying to at least turn his guilt into a learning experience for you. He’s not deluded enough to think someone like you will stay with someone like him forever, because sometimes he does things like that, and he’s reminded that there are certainly people out there more deserving of you. At the very least he can clarify that nobody should ever do what he just did to you. “It’s really not nice to do that to someone.”

“Do you care what I think at all?”

Spencer freezes, finally forcing himself to look you in the eye. Despite the fact that he’s mad at himself, he’s sure it’s coming across as being directed at you. And he knows you’re sensitive, especially about this kind of thing. 

“Of course, I do, baby. I’m sorry. Do you want to come back up here with me and tell me what you’re thinking?” he murmurs, cupping your jaw. Hesitantly you nod. The tissues end up on the table—which he will be thoroughlywiping down later—before you crawl back into his lap from the floor. Spencer helps you settle against him, hoping he hasn’t messed this up irreversibly. He keeps his voice quiet as he rubs your leg. “What were you going to say?”

“I was going to say,” you begin, “that it’s fine, because you’ll remember to ask next time. And because… I kind of liked it. I like when—when you do stuff like that.”

It’s a miracle he can hear you with the way your voice drops into an almost-whisper and you’re hiding against his shirt. 

“Like what?” he murmurs. Although he’s not sure he’ll be able to handle the answer. 

“Like… I don’t know. Like you can do whatever you want to me. Like I’m literally yours.” Each word makes you cringe further, but Spencer has to try hard to maintain a cool facade as he processes this. If he’s going to try and be chivalrous, you’ll have to move away from this topic—this revelation—immediately. Thankfully, you seem eager to move on. “So… how did I do?”

He almost laughs. It seems exceedingly obvious how you did, but as per usual, you require verbal reassurance. 

“That was really good, baby. You did well.”

You blossom. 

“Really?”

“I wouldn’t lie.”

“Was I the best girl out of all of the other girls?” 

I wasn’t in love with any of the other girls. 

Just barely, he manages to stop himself from saying it, pinwheeling his arms on the edge of a very steep verbal cliff. The realization that he’s been in love with you for a while hits him like a truck. But he can’t tell you that right now. He should wait until you’re less vulnerable.

Fuck. 

He really wants to tell you right now. 

“Actually—don’t answer that,” you decide, while all of this happens in his head in less than a few seconds. “I want to go back to pretending I’m the only girl you’ve ever seen in your life.”

“You’re the only one that matters,” he offers, relieved to express at least some portion of the much bigger truth. Then he frowns. “Not that the other women I’ve met don’t lead important lives. I actually know a lot of incredibly influential and intelligent people who are women. I have deep respect for all of them. Am I helping or making it worse?” he rambles. You giggle. He has his answer. “What about you? How do you feel?” he asks after a moment, tenderly, lowly, stroking your hair as you lean against his chest. 

It takes you a moment to deliberate, fiddling with the fabric of his shirt. 

“I feel good. I, um… liked it a lot more than I would have thought.”

“Well, that’s good. Much better than if you had hated every second of it.”

You hum in agreement, and he waits for you to say whatever you’re holding back. It comes sooner than he’d have anticipated. 

“I feel bad about the times before. How did you just… go to sleep after? Were you not, like—insanely turned on? Not that I’m, like, irresistibly sexy, or whatever—you know what I mean.”

Spencer smiles because he knows you can’t see him. 

“I wasn’t doing it to pressure you into feeling obligated to reciprocate, I guess. My line of reasoning was that it would be less intimidating if I didn’t even present it as an option until you wanted to try.”

“Oh.”

Spencer thinks he sees where this is going. 

“Why?” he asks, leaning back and encouraging you to look at him. “Are you insanely turned on?”

“Wh—that’s—I didn’t say that!”

Spencer can feel how warm your cheeks are as he presses his lips to the side of your face. 

“You can tell me if you are,” he murmurs, all smiley as he moves to kiss your lips. “If you want something, you need to ask for it. I’m not a mind reader.”

“Yes you are,” you grumble. “That’s literally what behavioral analysis is.”

Not quite true, but surprisingly, he doesn’t feel the need to explain to you the semantics of what he does for work right now. 

“What got you all excited?”

“You know what,” you mumble, trying to look away again. Spencer doesn’t allow it this time, gently grabbing your jaw. 

“Yes, I do. But I want you to tell me. If you want me to make you feel good, this is how you’re going to convince me that you deserve it.”

You whine wordlessly, looking at him with those big, lust-glazed eyes.

“You wanted me to teach you how to use your words, right? This is it. I’m giving you an opportunity. If you don’t want to, that’s okay. Maybe we can take a nap, like you said earlier.”

“No! I liked—um, I liked all of it. I didn’t know if I would, because I was really nervous. But when I first—you know—and you got all quiet… it was like you couldn’t even talk for a minute. I was kind of proud of that. Because normally nobody can ever get you to stop talking.” Spencer narrows his eyes incredulously, a small smile tugging at his lips. But he doesn’t interrupt—not when it seems you’re finally starting to get more confident in your words. “And I really liked the noises you made. I think that was my favorite part. I liked when you pulled my hair back, and how you spoke to me. And when… when you got me messy and I had to swallow it. I really liked how it felt because I couldn’t think of anything else, just making you feel good. I really wanted to… make you proud, I guess. Is that weird?”

Spencer shakes his head no, a fond smile on his face when your eyes meet his again. 

“No. It’s a pretty normal thing to feel when you’re nervous and wanting to impress someone you care about. And I would have been proud no matter what, for the record. You were being very brave.”

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, watching him expectantly. Spencer should have known you’re too needy to truly absorb anything he says to you right now. Which is actually pretty cute. Everything you do is endearing to him. 

“Stand up.”

You frown. 

“But—”

“Just stand up,” he demands calmly, preferring to think of himself as firm and not bossy. 

You do, looking rather annoyed and confused as you plant yourself in front of him. 

“Why?”

“You are so full of questions.” His hands slip up the side of your legs, under your skirt, and hook in the waistband of your underwear. Spencer looks up at you meaningfully and you nod, swallowing. 

As he pulls down, Spencer can literally feel the resistance of the fabric clinging to your soaked core. Under his touch the skin of your thighs is warm and soft. He wants to feel it on either side of his face, he wants to hear you whine as his stubble rubs against it, he wants to feel it clamp around his wrist, he wants it between his teeth and he definitely wants it pressing against his hips as he—

But no. 

There will be time for all of those things—especially the last one—later. For now, he’ll reach between your legs just to see—

“Oh, my god,” Spencer half-chuckles, half-groans, upon feeling how wet you truly are for him. He drags his knuckles from your dripping entrance up over your clit, pinching very lightly and earning a squeak from you which he ignores. “You really did like having your mouth full of me, huh?”

“I told you,” you breathe, visibly relaxing some as he continues to play with you for a moment. Then he pulls his hand away again, patting his thigh. 

“Sit.”

“You want me to…”

“Yes,” he says, simply. 

“But is it not going to… am I not going to mess up your pants?”

“You are even more neurotic about messiness than I am. I can wash them, honey. Come here.”

Spencer guides your hips over his thigh, watching your pretty face twist with uncertainty as you fully settle on him. Fuck, he can feel your warmth through the fabric instantly. Already he’s getting hard again. 

“What am I supposed to do?” you whisper, bunching his shirt in your fists. Spencer slides your skirt up higher, revealing the way you’re nestled against his thigh. He spreads you a little further apart, exposing more of your clit to the material underneath you. Immediately you press against him—he watches the delicate flesh rubbing gingerly against him and  his grip tightens ever so slightly. 

“All you have to do is rock back and forth. It’s easy.”

Already you’re starting to do it—but he guesses it’s like earlier where you don’t even realize it’s happening. 

“But… I wanted your mouth,” you admit, quietly, slinging your arms around his neck and burying your face there. 

“Do this for me first. Just get yourself off like this one time and then you can have my mouth. You said you wanted to help me feel better because I’m tired today, right?

“Yes,” you mumble, squirming over him. 

“Well, there are a lot of days when I get back home and I’m tired. I’m gonna need you to be able to get on top of me, just like this, and make me feel better. And I know you don’t know what it feels like to have something that deep inside of you yet, but it’s gonna be a lot. Even once you know how it feels to have me inside when you’re underneath me. I need you to practice for me right now so you’ll be ready, okay?”

You could come from the words alone. You nod, dazed with need as you roll your hips in a circle, pressing his thigh against your clit. 

“Back and forth, baby,” he murmurs, guiding your hips forward with his hands locked around them. “Back and forth, just like this…”

You moan quietly, shamelessly, eyes fluttering as you look down and watch your clit dragging over the darkening fabric. It’s easier if you isolate your hips, grinding down without moving your legs or upper body at all. 

“It feels really good,” you whisper under your quickening breath. 

“Yeah? Does it?”

“Mhm.”

“Good, angel. You look like you know what you’re doing.”

It’s audible now, quiet and wet and dirty. 

“I don’t,” you breathe. He sucks in a breath of his own, stilling your hips with fingers pressed deep into your flesh. 

“Sit up, baby.” You really wish he would stop making you stop, but you don’t want to keep going in case he needs you to quit—so you rise slowly, thighs trembling as you kneel. Spencer groans at the strings of your arousal momentarily connecting your core to his pants before they snap, getting your inner thighs wet. There’s a dark, very wet patch over his thigh, shining like glass. He thumbs over your slick clit absentmindedly as he looks up at you like you’re a miracle. “You’re fucking soaked. I’ve never seen you like this. Is this all from making me come?”

You nod feverishly, hips grinding against nothing in search of friction. He sits you back down on his leg, allowing you to sloppily find your rhythm again. Spencer bounces his leg lightly and you cry out softly, buckling forward. His arms wrap around you, still pressing you down against his thigh as you rut against it. 

“You’re sweet. Maybe I should have known how much you’d like it when I came all over your pretty face. You really like hearing that you did a good job, huh? I bet you like it even more when I prove it to you.”

You moan a “yeah,” barely processing his words. 

“My good girl even swallowed on her first try. Took it so well. And now look at how you’re taking this. You’re gonna love riding, baby. Just going to be another thing you’re good at as soon as you try it.”

“Spencer,” you gasp, overwhelmed by the praise. He’s bouncing his leg at regular intervals and everything is so sensitive.

“I know it’s harder to finish this way, but just one time, remember? And then you can have my tongue for as long as you want. You are my only plan for the day. Just give me one like this.”

But it’s not really harder to finish this way. Then again, you’re so turned on you could probably finish if a breeze hit you just right. Regardless, the thought of him going down on you again pushes you even closer to the edge.

You don’t know how much time goes by like that, you rubbing against him like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do, him pressing up into you until the pressure is so taut it snaps. There’s no time to warn him, but you suppose you don’t really need to. You writhe against him, caught between wanting to keep going and not being able to take more stimulation. He lifts you up just slightly, trying to separate you from his leg. You exhale deeply as your body relaxes, already close to dozing off against his chest.

“We can’t have you tapping out just yet. I still have to fulfill my end of the deal.”

In the end, he fulfills it three times over, and you end up showing your appreciation in kind one more time—much slower and more comfortably in his bed. He gives you plenty of time to learn what he likes, taking your teasing and coquettish explorations like a champ and never so much as tightening his grip in your hair. Turns out, you don't exactly spend the day doing nothing.

And you do end up taking that nap after all. Just... much, much later. And with less clothing on.

[flemingsfreckles]

Puppy Love

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Preview: you come home to a surprise from your girlfriend

Warnings: none

WC: 1.3k

A/N: here’s a very short blurb a wrote based off the middle photo of Jessie with the puppy. I’m in the process of working on 3 other fics that are multi part (better boyfriend is one, the other two are stuff that isn’t out yet) those just take a while so I’m taking time to write some small short stuff as well because it prevents my writers block from showing up.

“Oh no come back here with that” you hear your girlfriend yell at someone or something as you walk in the door. You set your keys down and begin to take off your shoes when you feel a warm soft body against the back of your leg. Turning around you see a small brown puppy standing looking up at you, one of your shirts hanging from its mouth.

Only a second later your girlfriend comes flying around the corner into the entryway, nearly slipping with the combination of her speed, her socks, and the tile flooring. She catches herself against the wall and looks up at you with huge eyes.

Jessie looks frazzled in every way. Her hair is sticking out in every direction, her cheeks are bright red as if she’d just been to training, she’s wearing only shorts and a sports bra. You can see a couple red nail scratches across her arms and she’s breathing heavily.

“Jessie.” It doesn’t take long for you to make the assumption that your girlfriend had brought home a puppy.

“Hi.” She gives you a tight lipped smile, just looking up at you before the puppy takes off running again, through your legs and off toward the kitchen.

“Oh my god” you hear Jessie mutter and she turns and chases after it. You’re not even sure if you should follow, still processing the scene that you came home to.

You take a few steps in the direction that Jessie ran off in and see her coming back toward you, a wiggling puppy in her arms. Your shirt now in her hand. She holds the puppy out to you, holding it under its arms like a small baby.

“Hold her.” You don’t have much of a choice so you put your arms out and take the puppy from her. The puppy is small and a little ball of fur in your arms, for a split second you forget that you should be questioning your girlfriend about what is going on. Jessie throws on the shirt the puppy had stolen and holds her arms out to take her back. You hand her back and you two just stand looking at each other, the puppy whining to be put down.

“Jessie, why is there a puppy in our house?”

“She needed a home.” She gives you a quick glance before her attention is redirected to the dog.

“So what? You thought ours was a good option?” You feel your voice raise slightly, you really weren’t mad, just more confused at the impulsive decision Jessie made, and a little frustrated that she hadn’t checked in with you before she brought home a huge responsibility.

“Maybe?” She looks at you with hopeful eyes. “Come on babe we’ve thought about it a couple of times.”

She wasn’t wrong the two of you had thought about adopting a dog on a couple occasions now that you lived together, you both wanted one but you never followed through in the process of actually picking out a dog. Something always got in the way.

“The dog came from Niamh’s neighbor, their dog had a bunch of puppies. The rest got adopted but no one wanted her because of her ear.” She holds the dog's ear up for you to see, but it was missing a large portion of it.

“It’s not her fault she was born like that. How could no one want her?” It looks like your girlfriend is on the verge of tears looking at the puppy’s face. “I know I should have asked babe but I didn’t. I’m sorry for that. She’s already house broken and can walk on a leash. Can we keep her please?”

You didn’t have a good reason to say no. You both wanted a dog, you were ready for the responsibility and you couldn’t help but admit how cute it was to see Jessie playing with her. She was poking its nose with her own, the dog trying to lick her face every time she leaned it.

“Sure Jess, we can keep her.”

“Yay! Did you hear that, you can stay.” She is back looking at the dog in her arms, talking to it as if she could understand. The dog just wiggles around, excited by the attention from Jessie not her actual words.

“I haven’t named her yet, I wanted to wait for you.” She sets down the dog and leans toward you, lips pursed waiting for a kiss. You lean in to place your lips to hers, giving her a quick kiss. It’s short and sweet, a nice welcome home.

“When did you have time to pick her up?” You point at the dog who has run over to the doorway and is rolling around on the rug scratching her back.

“After training, I went with Niamh, then we went to the store and bought all the things for her.” She points over to the pile of toys, a bag of food, two bowls, and a crate. You just nod. “She might want to go outside. She goes by the door when she needs to go. She’s so smart. Do you want to join us on a short walk?”

“Sure babe.” Jessie hurries over to where the puppy was rolling, grabbing the leash and harness that had been hung neatly next to both of your keys.

It’s warm out, the sun is just starting to set as you start your first walk with just the three of you as a small family. You walk for a couple minutes before the unnamed puppy starts sitting down, every couple of steps, bored of walking she sits and chomps at the grass.

“Come here.” Jessie says in a high pitched tone, the same tone she used earlier to talk to the puppy. She picks up the dog once again.

“Babe, what are you doing?”

“Her little legs are probably tired. She’s had a busy day.” You couldn’t help but smile, looking at your girlfriend grinning ear to ear as she held the puppy in her arms. She looks so content with the ball of fur. She carries her for the rest of the walk, letting the puppy lightly bounce in her arms as she walks alongside you.

You spent the rest of the afternoon playing with the puppy who you both agreed to name Maple both after her color and because you shot down Jessie’s original idea of naming her Moose but you refused to name the dog after another animal. Early into the night Maple found her own way into the large crate Jessie had bought and lined it with a bed and blankets.

“Look, she's sleeping.” You point out to Jessie as you both were standing in the kitchen waiting on a bag of popcorn to be ready. Jessie looks over to where Maple was, sound asleep in the pile of blankets.

“She’s so cute.”

“I cannot believe you brought home a dog.” You truly were shocked when you walked in the door earlier that day, the last thing you were expecting was a puppy.

“I know, I was a little worried you’d be mad.”

“How could I be when I had her cute face and your cute face both giving me puppy eyes?” You gently grab Jessie’s chin and place a kiss on her lips.

“Plus it’s good practice for when we have kids.” Jessie says when you pull away from her. The thought of having kids with her sends a flutter to your stomach. You knew it wouldn’t be soon, but in the future it was definitely something you both had talked about and wanted.

“Yeah it is but you better not bring home any kids without telling me first.”

[leaentries]

just stay | luke hughes

summary: troubled by luke’s continued absence, you just want him to stop. but he just wants you to stay.

warnings: angsty themes, mentions of abandonment, arguing, happy-ish ending (but also sad)

wc: 1.2k

a/n: this is my first angsty fic, so please bare with me! <3

You should have known better. You did know better.

Yet for some reason, you found yourself caught up in his chaos again. Luke was always a hard worker, this is something he prided himself on. The way he could completely immerse himself in his work and focus on nothing else. It was the only time his mind was quiet.

Sometimes it occurred to you that maybe his job was his only true love because, for the third time this week, Luke found himself walking through the front door at an ungodly hour. He assumed you’d be tucked away asleep, but was proven wrong when he saw your displeased features looming at him from the couch. 

He gently set his hockey bag down, clearly sensing the thick tension practically rolling off your body. Luke was scared to move or talk for that matter. Now of course, he knew why you were upset with him, as you had every right to be, but what you didn’t know was Luke would often find an escape on the ice, a way to heal scars he tried so hard to conceal. So it was easy for him to lose track of time, needing to expel all of his emotions. It was the only way he knew how to process. 

And with your ongoing relationship issues, Luke began to disappear. At least, that’s what it felt like to you. One of your biggest fears was Luke leaving you, so it truly felt like you were living in your worst nightmare when the distance between you grew. The feeling of abandonment engraved in your mind was impossible to get rid of.

Letting out a deep sigh, you couldn’t find the energy to scold him again. “Why, Luke?” 

The simple question hung in the air like a rope, tight and unwavering. Truth be told, Luke didn’t have an answer. He didn’t know why all he wanted to do was bury his head in the sand until morning when he could get back to the rink. He didn’t know why he couldn’t convey his feelings properly. He didn’t know why he felt so scared to be vulnerable around you. 

Taking his silence as an answer, you rose from the couch. Not taking a second glance in Luke’s direction, you made your way to your shared bedroom. Luke immediately followed suit. He watched as you grabbed an overnight bag, half-hazardly throwing things in. He reached out to touch your arm.

“No!” You yanked your arm away looking up at his guilt-ridden eyes. “You don’t get to feel bad. I told you. I told you how you being distant all the time made me feel. But you clearly don’t care enough to change anything.”

Luke roughly ran a hand through his messy curls.

“Look y/n, you know I care about you. But-” You quickly cut him off.

“See? There shouldn’t even be a but. You simply just don’t care, Luke.” Tears began to fill your eyes at this point. “I’m at a loss. I told you I wanted to work on us and I thought you did too. But apparently I was wrong.” 

Luke shook his head in protest, “Of course I want to work on us! You haven’t given me a chance to try and explain!” He tried tirelessly to let you hear him out. Unfortunately, his attempts were in vain.

“I gave you plenty of chances to explain, Luke. It’s too late.” The next words that left your mouth cut through Luke’s heart like a dagger. “I-I think we should take a break.” 

Luke’s breath quickened as his heart rate began to rise. Tears immediately sprung in his eyes, “Don’t say that. You don’t mean that. Please, please say you don’t mean that” He begged.

You had never seen Luke break down like that. The pain in your chest was hard to ignore as you tried your best to control the sobs that now shook your body. You didn’t trust your voice enough to speak, so you grabbed your bag and attempted to go around Luke’s frame. He gripped onto your bag, causing your body to sharply turn back. 

“Y/n, don’t leave it like this,” He sobbed, “Don’t leave us like this!” You scoffed at his last remark.

“I’m the one leaving? Luke, you left this relationship a long time ago. It just sucks I didn’t notice it until now. I could have saved us both the time.” Your voice became dull. You had lost all motivation to fight for what you and Luke had lost. You were tired. 

“I-I don’t understand. You told me you wanted me to try and here I am, trying. This time you are the one walking away. Not me.” Luke’s voice began to become unsteady. Overwhelmed with the severity of the situation. He was flooded with anger, confusion, and most of all: sadness. He felt completely helpless. Two hours ago all he wanted was to stay on that ice until the world stopped, but now it felt as though the world did. Except now, all he wanted was you. 

“Just stop it, Luke. This is it. What’s done is done, and I need you to understand that.” The tone of absolute in your voice made his blood run cold.

“I don’t want to understand, I want you to stay.” Luke felt his ears start ringing. He was pierced by your neutral gaze. You didn’t continue towards the door, but you didn’t make a move for him either. Luke was in agony waiting for you to say something. He chose to take your silence as an opportunity. 

“Just let me say something. Please.” He pleaded with you. “I know, I messed up. I wasn’t there for you, or for us. But I can’t stand the thought of waking up every day without you. Not hearing you sing in the shower when I come home from practice. Not smelling your perfume on my hoodies, or watching the way your mouth twitches when you’re reading. But most of all, I can’t fathom the thought of not having you love me. Out of everything in this world, you have been the one constant thing I can depend on. So please, please, just stay. Stay for me.” Luke’s bloodshot eyes bore into yours as his tears violently spilled from his eyes. 

You felt your own drip down your face at his words, leaving hot wet trails in their wake. This is the first time Luke has ever been this vulnerable in front of you. You felt as if you were truly seeing him for the first time, the real Luke Hughes. 

“Okay,” You whispered, “I’ll stay. I’ll stay with you, in this relationship. But I can’t stay here right now.” With that, you managed your way out of the bedroom to the front door. Luke desperately followed your steps. 

“Baby, please. Wait.” He stopped in his place when you turned towards him. You walked up to him, cupping a gentle hand on his cheek. You placed a soft but promising kiss against his swollen lips. The love shared between you lingered as you pulled your lips from his. You stepped back, readjusting your bag on your shoulder. 

“I need some time to think. But I’ll be back. I promise.” And with that, you left. 

Luke knew better than to follow you. But here he stood, staring at the closed front door. Left with a reassuring promise, yet a shattered heart. 

[thesmpisonfire]

*holds in a breath* *slowly lets out*

Okay so first. The biggest fucking problem for Quackity Studios rn to solve is the payment and working hours issue. They need to do a complete revamp structurally and Quackity fired core management since the mistreatment happened to those under their care. Payment and finances are a must care NOW issue due to the french syndicate pressure

So take everyone out of the discord server to reorganize it with new channels and categories and THEN go talk to them about coming back with a >> NEWLY MADE << contract and payment offer. They can't keep everyone around including in the twitter accounts bc of this revamp, or else it might be seen as unpaid work hours

Lea isn't even in the server anymore, she's getting some info from ppl inside and just immediately spitting it out to twitter without even thinking twice about it. A lot of ccs (Baghera, Etoiles and Fit) and Quackity himself said that BIG changes are being made in order to fix everything up. I get she's mad and so is the qsmpFRA admin talking about it, but all of this happened THREE FUCKING DAYS AGO. Quackity is starting from GROUND ZERO again so rebuild his life project right. I can see how a simple "oh yeah everyone got taken out of the server" can be turned into "THEY KICKED EVERYONE OUT WITHOUT A CARE 🔥🔥🔥". The info Lea is getting is questionable at best

Give some fucking time to everything be rebuilt again and we get information from trustworthy sources (the french ccs themselves, bc they talk openly about it, and others such as Bad and Fit and all the other ccs). You can not trust Quackity and I personally recommend not trusting 100% ex admins that are flammed and maybe petty, but trust the french, Bad and Fit for sure (i say these bc they're the most vocal about it until now)

Anyway. Have patience, take care, drink water, and have a support system if this is making y'all feel down or anxious. Love yall <3

[softpascalito]

Pedro Pascal x Reader - I'll look after you

Summary: Pedro is sick (but of course he doesn't admit it). You look after him. Hurt/Comfort (but the twist is that you're the one doing the comforting).

Relationships: Pedro Pascal / Reader

WC: ~2000

Tags/Warnings: RPF, Pedro Pascal, No use of Y/N, Hurt/Comfort, Sickfic, Sick!Pedro, Established Relationship, Mostly Gender-Neutral, Fluff and Angst, pedro pascal needs a hug, this is so soft and emotional and gentle-, author uses fanfic as therapy

AO3 LINK

Notes: hello loves! just a quick heads up: this is no medical advice because someone decided to got to film school rather than medical school. anyways: enjoy <3

songs recommended to go with this fic: look after you - the fray moon song - phoebe bridgers - lea

_________________________________________________________

“You're not going.”

Pedro let out an exasperated sigh:” It's just a small interview. I'll be fine.” “If it's just a small interview, surely it's no big deal for them to reschedule.” You retorted instantly.

You were standing in the hallway of the small apartment the two of you shared. It was a familiar scene. Pedro quickly slipping into his worn-out trainers, already halfway towards the door, balancing his phone, keys and a coffee in his left hand, a kiss on the cheek the last thing you got before he hauled off to whatever photoshoot or interview he had scheduled that day.

Today however, something was different. He had slept in later than usual, hence the hurry he was in now.

“I can see you're not doing well.”-”I said Im fine.” You could hear his voice straining a little more. Pedro was very patient- especially with you. But he hated being late and you knew he likely was already on edge with whatever he was going through:” I'll see you tonight.”

He gave another nod in the rough direction of you and turned towards the door. Your voice became a tad more gentle as you spoke.

”Pedrito.”

For a second, you thought he was going to ignore you, brush it off and hurry to his car, leaving you behind. But then he stopped his movements, his hand remaining on the handle of the open door as his shoulders slumped ever so slightly. You waited another beat before speaking again:

“Please let me give them a call and ask them to reschedule. I'll take the blame if you want.” 

The door closed as he took a step back and leaned against it. You barely caught his voice as he spoke:” Alright.”

You closed the distance between you and your gaze automatically wandered over him, taking in the beads of sweat on his forehead and the glazed-over look in his eyes that had made you skeptical in the first place. What you had failed to notice was the small tremor in his hands. “Give me those,” you said softly, and you were glad to see that he allowed you to take the keys and coffee out of his hands and place them on the small hallway table next to you.

“You wanna go lie down? I'll give them a call and then I'll make you some tea, alright?”

He noticed how gentle your tone was, how careful you seemed- all because he was running a small fever. Still, he couldn't help the tiny part of him that felt relieved at the idea of not having to go to the interview, not having to answer questions he had heard several times before, not having to sit under the scorching lights.

“As you command,” he teased. You knew he was doing this to take some of your worry away, to make you feel better. Pedro did this a lot. Whenever he felt like he had dug too deep or like he was putting too much weight on you, he'd simply play it off. After months together, you could see right through it. For now, however, you decided to let it slide, giving him a small smile, meant to lift his spirits.

The call didn't take long. There was a notion of annoyance on the other side of the line and you were reminded to cancel as early as possible in cases like these. You didn't give any explanation, simply reassured them that you'd find a new date and hung up.

You were just standing on your tiptoes to check the scarce collection of tea in the cabinet, when you heard the small commotion from the hallway. For a second, you assigned it to something falling over in the breeze coming from the sea or a sound drifting in from the outside. And then you remembered the exhaustion in Pedros face.

You were in the hallway in an instant, finding him leaning onto the small end table. The cup of coffee had fallen to the floor, a rug below catching most of its contents. For a split second, you got annoyed, knowing you'd have to throw it into the laundry. You opened your mouth to complain- and closed it again. The slight anger in you turned into genuine concern as you saw Pedros white knuckles holding on to the table, his face pale.

“Babe?” You asked softly as you stepped forward, ignoring the way the coffee was also soaking into your socks:” You okay?”

“Jus' a little dizzy,” He mumbled, closing his eyes for a moment as he tried to steady himself:” Sorry.”

“Stop apologizing.” You said firmly as you half crouched between him and the table and then raised yourself to full height again, allowing him to use you as a crutch:” Let's get you to the couch, big guy.”

It took quite some combined effort, and more than once you worried about him actually passing out- but eventually, he fell down onto the couch with a soft sigh. He leaned back, covering his face with his hands:” Fuck, I'm sorry.” He mumbled, again. Apologizing. Again. Always apologizing.

“Do you want me to call a doctor or something?” You asked, still unsure about how bad his state actually was.

“No, no, just need a minute.” You watched with concern as he took a few deep breaths, clearly trying to convince his body to stay conscious. The thing about unconsciousness though is that it doesn't have shit to do with willpower. If you fall, you fall. No matter how hard you're trying to tell your brain to keep pumping the blood towards where it's needed.

The water heater beeping dragged you back to reality.

“I'll get you that tea either way.” You mumbled and headed towards the kitchen again, muttering a ' you stay ' with another glance in his direction.

He did as told.

You quickly threw the tea bag into the mug, poured the hot water on it, grabbed a small chocolate bar for good measure and returned to the living room.

“Here you go.” You mumbled as you sat the steaming mug down and offered the chocolate to Pedro:” Will this help?” He gave you a small smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. They still looked glazed over and you hummed as you took in his face, gently bringing your hand up to feel his forehead.

“Pedge, you're burning up.” He looked up at you with his round, brown puppy eyes and he just looked so goddamn miserable that it truly broke your heart, instantly making you wish you could take all his pain away.

“Okay, let me get a thermometer-” Pedro frowned slightly:”Do we have one of those?”-”I bought one, remember? I said-”

”You said we'd need one eventually.” He offered.

Despite his pitiful state, you couldn't help but grin a bit:” That's right.” You hummed as you grabbed a small box from the hallway closet, filled with different medications and- ”Here it is.”

As you approached him, Pedro squirmed slightly:” You're not gonna try to put that up my butt, are you?” You rolled your eyes:” Your mouth is fine.” 

With a small wink, you added:” I'm saving your pretty little bum for another time.”

He blushed slightly at that but you barely noticed, already busy taking the thermometer out of its packaging:” You want me to do it?”

Pedro gave a small nod but you could tell he was conflicted about it. For a moment, he seemed to consider his words:” Baby, maybe you should leave. I don't want you getting sick too and-”

”No.” He opened his mouth to protest, but you cut him off by pressing a small kiss to his lips:” There. Already infected. Now open up.” 

He was stunned enough to not protest. You were as gentle as possible as you rested one hand on his cheek, the other leading the thermometer into his mouth:” No talking.” He grumbled a bit but did as told, his gaze lingering on you as you both waited for the beep that would signal that the temperature was ready. 

At this point, he knew you well enough to realize that you wouldn't leave him- no matter how many times he asked. On the other hand, you knew him well enough to realize he would still ask, always afraid of being a burden. 

Your brows furrowed a bit as you took the thermometer out and glanced at the small screen:” It isn't too bad but some paracetamol wouldn't hurt.” You deduced, already grabbing the pills from the box and quickly glancing over the leaflet.

The look Pedro was giving you didn't fully reach your brain until you realized how quiet he was. Immediately, you turned your attention towards him:” Are you okay? Are you feeling dizzy?”

To your surprise, he gave a small chuckle. He was glancing at you in wonder:” How do you know all this?” You raised a brow:'' Thermometers and Paracetamol aren't exactly rocket science.” He shook his head:” Still, you're- you're kind of good at that.”

You gave a small shrug as you poured him a glass of water:” I spent a few summers helping out at camp when I was younger. They didn't have a proper nurse so I filled in.”

Again, he stared up at you in amazement:” I didn't know that.” He said quietly.

“Well, we never- it never came up.” You replied, a little self-conscious:” I didn't think it was very interesting.”

“Everything about you is interesting. To me, I mean.” He blurted out. You stared at him for a moment and then sighed, shaking your head.

“Pedro, you have a fever.”-”So?”-”So, declarations of your deep love for me don't count because you're not in the right state of mind.” Both of you stayed quiet as you settled down on the couch.

“Are you sure you dont wanna leave?” You smiled at him gently as you drew a blanket over his legs:” Go to sleep, baby.”

Again, you fell into silence as you watched him close his eyes. You were beginning to think he'd already fallen asleep, when he suddenly spoke again.

“Querida?” He asked in a low voice. Your head perked up slightly:” Hm?”

“Remind me again tomorrow.” 

Your brows furrowed in confusion, your brain already zoning out:” Remind you of what?”

“To tell you how much I love you.”

You were too choked up to answer. You simply stared at him, his broad form nestled into the couch, two pillows below his back because it always, always hurt, his hair messy and sticking up into all directions and his eyes closed, seemingly already drifting off to sleep. He looked so soft and vulnerable and you couldn't help the strong urge to protect him, to shield him from all evil in the world. Including the evil of a sick day.

It didn't take more than a few minutes until his breathing became deeper and eventually he began snoring softly.

You watched his chest rise and fall from your spot on the couch and you thought your heart might leap out of your own chest and join in his, because you simply loved him that much.

With a small sigh, you got up again. You turned off the doorbell, threw both your socks and the coffee-stained rug into the washer, drew a few curtains and hid the script Pedro had been working on below some magazines. As far as you were concerned, he was on bedrest for the remainder of the day.

When you were satisfied, you returned to your spot on the couch, shifting slightly so that you were lying next to him but still giving him enough space to turn in his sleep.

“I'll remind you every day.” You mumbled, more to yourself than him.

I'll remind you every day as long as your answer stays the same, I'll have you as long as you'll have me . 

You thought distantly as you too closed your eyes and drifted off to sleep, your hand finding his in a gesture that conveyed more than either of you could say. 

But you knew. Both of you knew .

You knew now and you'd know the day after. And the day after that. And you had a feeling he did too.

_______________________________________

ty for reading!! i am afraid i am in fact a hopeless romantic. anyways, i hope you guys enjoyed it, please leave a comment if you did <3

[ghostsbimbo]

TF141 x Disabled!Reader; Cerebral Palsy

a/n: writing this from my own experience. i am mobile & independent w/o aids due to years of physical therapy, but it's getting harder. Please note, this disability is rare. There isn't much representation in media either, it's quite hard to find, there's 2 or 3 actors, a comedian or two. so I kind of want a small thing, y'know?

Task Force 141 [ General Statement ]

Okay, so this disability is rare (200k cases per year in the US - I do not know about other countries). I have the genuine belief that when they first meet you and you tell them that you have the disability, they actually start looking it up right in front of you. Not only out of curiosity, but because they want to help you.

John Price

He knew it was one of those days for you. He could tell just from you sitting up in bed and hearing the wince you had tried so hard to hide from him. He sighed softly, mentally questioning himself before finally deciding to ask it. "Wheelchair and cane day, love?" "Yeah...Wheelchair and cane day." You admitted, sighing softly. He sat up and leaned over, kissing your head before getting out of your shared bed, ready to help get you whatever you needed.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

You two were at home while he was on leave, eating dinner - steak, a favorite of yours - but you were struggling with cutting it with the knife. Growing up physical therapy focused on the use of your dominant hand - especially with writing - so when it came to using your non-dominant hand? it was beyond a struggle to do things. Cutting up foods was one of them. "You want my help, love?" Simon asked, tilting his head. He understood you didn't like asking him for help, he understood you wanted independence when it came to even the simplest things, but he could also tell when you were getting frustrated. You simply nodded, placing the fork and knife down and carefully pushing the plate over to his side for help.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

You tried your best to not be a messy eater. Like, to the point where you were constantly wiping your mouth, taking small bites of food, eating slow. but then there were days you just couldn't put that much brain power into being a conscious eater. It was a 'low spoons day' as you put it. Your body already hurt constantly due to your stiff muscles, which took a lot out of you on rainy days, so why make the effort to not be messy considering your body was already in so much pain. "Babe...You uh, got a little..." Gaz started, before getting a paper towel and carefully wiping the ice cream off your upper lip and the tip of your nose. You just blushed brightly and mumbled out a quick thank you and an apology. He just let out a soft chuckle and smiled at you. "It's alright, love, at leas you're enjoying something today, yeah?"

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish

You were scuffing your feet instead of actually walking walking. A habit that took years of physical therapy to break. You liked not having to think about not having to walk when you were in pain, but not many other people appreciated the noise. It irritated them. And that's how you got where you are now. In your work's break room, shakily texting your boyfriend to come pick you up. A customer had berated you in front of other customers and your boss in the store. He did get kicked out by your manager of course, but due to you being low spoons, that was your breaking point. Johnny was aloud in the break room on these kind of days. It was something your manager understood you might need on certain days. "C'mon love, you already clocked out, right?" You nodded and you guys walked out to his car, hand in hand with him rubbing small soothing circles on the back of your hand.

[thelarksang]

Clues on Neil Gaiman's Tumblr

Three identical posts of a script preview with one changed word

Crowley's Present-Day Filter

No nightingale

I'm still combing through Neil's Tumblr and I'll add to this if I find any more.

Case 1: Neil posting this message about the script three times; twice with the word "Dailies" and the most recent one with "Sides". Neil claims it was a Tumblr error but it's too fishy to not be intentional.

Case 2: Anytime the screen is slightly darker, it's considered "Crowley's present-day storyline".

For example, Tiffen Bronze Glimmerglass were paired with bookshop scenes; Black Pro-Mist was used for Hell; and Black Diffusion FX for Crowley’s present-day storyline.

Neil mentions there are a lot of secrets in that article and this stood out the most. I'm going to rewatch the series and see which scenes are dark.

The Gabriel memory scene seems to also be a clue which I'll expand on at a later time.

Case 3: There was indeed "No nightingale" but there was a lark

There's a huge emphasis on Crowley saying "It's too late" throughout the series (plus Anges Nutter and her time of execution) and the "No nightingale" line comes from Romeo's speech to Juliet. which is another metaphor for lateness.

It was the lark, the herald of the morn,  No nightingale: look, love, what envious streaks  Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east:  Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day  Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops.  I must be gone and live, or stay and die.

Which seems to mean: 

"No nightingale; the lark was there instead. It is morning and it is too late. I must leave." 

If the lark was there instead of a nightingale, does this point to a wrong timeline? Or maybe that their story doesn't end here and they must continue on?

The lark can be heard when Crowley leaves the bookshop.

Scene:

Lark sound:

Morever I feel like "Night's candles are burnt out" can go hand-in-hand with Job's passage on the matchbox which is "Out of his mouth go burning lamps, and sparks of fire leap out."

Side Thoughts:

Is Crowley the key to all of this? His memories being different from everyone else's, the oddly specific filter for "his present-day" scenes, the fire needed to light the lamps/keep the lamps going, him noticing there is no nightingale singing... (Btw, he is now one step closer to be eligible to ask God questions after fulfilling the ostrich question; not too sure about the peacock part though.)

What if there are actually three timelines if you consider the rule of three in a lot of scenes? Including the three concept art illustrations of the bookshop, the three telephone booths on the promo posters, etc.

[hard-core-super-star]

Can i please request that Griffin and reader are working on a car together, and hailee just stares and admires reader. (Who is in a tank top, showing off her arms.) And r has grease all over her hands.

like words left unsaid [H.Steinfeld]

pairing: hailee steinfeld x reader

summary: hailee can't ever seem to keep her eyes off of you and you can't really complain about that.

warnings: none; fluff, no plot; hailee being a dork in love and R teasing her about it despite being just as whipped; me pretending i understand car stuff; weird pov shenanigans again

wordcount: 1k

a/n: this is an unofficial sequel to remind me i'm alive because i can and i want to :) my hailee fics have lowkey been flopping lately and i can't even be mad because she's just so...confusing lately. and i think it shows in the way i write her nowadays. that being said, i attempted to write pure fluff with her again so we'll see how this goes, hope you enjoy <3 gif is lowkey irrelevant, i'm just gay

* * * * * * *

“This is so boring, how the hell do you guys spend hours doing this?” Hailee complains for the fifth time in the past twenty minutes.

Her comment makes you laugh, mainly because no one asked her to join you and Griffin while you do a full tune-up on your beloved Corvette but she refuses to leave despite how boring she seems to find it. Her stubbornness has more to do with you than anything else but you pretend not to notice in favor of teasing her.

“You’re free to leave if you want,” you reply.

Griffin chuckles but doesn’t say anything. He very clearly stays out of things for the sake of his own sanity, his head ducked under the hood of your car.

You, on the other hand, decide to take a step back and let him continue his inspection of your battery. Your hands subconsciously attempt to smooth out the wrinkles on your tank top which leads to you leaving oil stains on the fabric.

You mumble out a few curse words and motion for the brunette to hand you a towel.

Hailee’s focus is somewhere else though. And she’s never been more thankful she decided to stick around to watch you tinker with your stupid car all afternoon.

She swore it was only because she wanted to spend more time with you but that idea didn’t really cross her mind until she saw what you were going to wear while messing around with said car. Your beauty has never been something she’s questioned before and yet it’s not until moments like these that she’s particularly aware of it.

The sight of you in a tank top is more than enough to make her heart race but add in the way your hands effortlessly grip the ridiculous amount of wrenches you have to use and she’s pretty sure her feelings for someone have never been as obvious as they are right now.

“Earth to Hailee,” you speak up, a wide grin on your face. “You gonna give me a hand?”

Your words snap her out of her daze, her brown eyes wide from the shock of being caught blatantly checking you out. “I, uh…”

You can’t stop yourself from laughing at her reaction although you hold in your urge to tease her until later.

Despite having been dating for a few months, you still haven’t told her brother about your relationship. It’s not a secret per say, it’s just easier not to have to deal with his jokes while you two figure out how to make things work.

“Just go grab a towel from the kitchen,” Griffin says. “All the ones we have here are dirty already.”

“Sounds good.”

You stare expectantly at Hailee, who takes a few seconds to understand what you mean before following you back into the house.

“You’re going to have to work on those heart-eyes if you don’t want anyone to catch on,” you tease her the second you’re inside and away from Griffin’s prying ears.

“Shut up,” she replies with an overdramatic pout. “It’s not my fault my girlfriend is so attractive.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere, Steinfeld.”

You walk toward the sink, her laughter following after you, and attempt to wash away the oil that sticks to your hands. You fail for the most part but at least you don’t feel as gross anymore.

The second you turn around again, Hailee’s hands are on your waist, pulling you in toward her. You welcome the embrace and eagerly wrap your arms around her neck in response.

It hasn’t even been two hours since the last time you two were alone yet here you are acting like you’re starved for affection.

“Hi,” she mumbles while she leans forward to press her forehead against yours.

It still baffles you how soft she truly is. She plays the part of a self-assured celebrity incredibly well for someone who seeks out your loving gaze so often.

She’s a beautiful tapestry of mix-matched personality traits and you’re the lucky fool who gets to spend hours admiring each and every piece of her.

“Hey there,” you whisper in response. “Can I help you with something?”

“Let me think about it.” The words aren't fully out of her mouth before her lips find yours.

You smile into the kiss, letting her pull you impossibly closer to her while the air around you fills with the love you can’t quite hide.

A love you’ve technically not spoken out loud yet. It’s not that you’re not happy to feel it, you’ve just been caught up in some other, more passionate, aspects of being with Hailee.

Plus, if you’re being honest, you’ve been in love with her so long, you sometimes forget how new this still is. You’ve known her for years but now you get to know her better, in ways that make you regret hiding the truth for so long.

“I’ve got an idea,” she announces when she pulls away from you.

“I’m all ears, babe.”

She can’t resist giving you another quick kiss before speaking again. “How about we ditch my brother and go get something to eat? I’m starving and I don’t think I can watch you mess around with that car any longer.”

“I thought you were enjoying the view though?”

She rolls her eyes at you, the tiniest hint of a blush spreading along her cheeks. “I'd like to enjoy it somewhere more private.”

A million responses cross your brain yet you go for that one that will annoy her the most. “You'll have to pull Griffin away from my car for that.”

“Way to ruin the moment.” She doesn't break the embrace despite her complaints. “And I thought you guys weren't done yet.”

“We were technically done half an hour ago but your brother loves my car and you love checking me out so it seemed like a win-win,” you reply with a smirk and shrug.

“y/n!” Her over-dramatic reaction makes both of you burst out laughing. “You’re the worst.”

“You love me.” The words slip out faster than you can even think.

Thankfully, she doesn't give you the chance to panic.

She merely smiles as if you've said the words a thousand times before. And in a way, you have.

Which just makes it all the sweeter when she says,”Yeah. I do…but you're still a jerk.”

“We’ll have to agree to disagree on that.”

[cupid-styles]

Ok I know you said you’re tired so no pressure but I just had an idea for ymls so ima send it in and maybe for concepts laterrrrr <3

Ok ok ok so I know ymls started out as an enemies to lovers kind of thing but developed from there which has been the loveliest development 🫠 (seriously one of my absolute favs) but what about the night they met? ‘Cause you did a blurby on the first night they hooked up (thank u) but I had this thought that like, the first night they met, if they were all out with friends, y/n would be extra grumpy because she’d be irritated at how attractive and enigmatic he was and she didn’t wanna be drawn to someone like that bc literally who does and so he’d be flirting with everyone bc that’s just his personality which would annoy her even more bc she’s so (adorably) grumpy and so she would make an effort to talk to everyone but him and then THAT WAY you could have the little blurby/one shot you’d intended about them actually being enemies and like witty banter (which as we’ve seen obviously develops into H being a total softie and a total simp for y/n)

Can u tell I relate to a grumpy y/n

Just a thought do NOT mind me if you hate it

I LOVE THIS VERY MUCH TY HERES A LITTLE BLURBIE FOR YA (I changed it a little bc I got carried away LOL)

part of the ymls universe!!!!!

content warnings: none!

masterlist | talk to me

. . .

"God, he's so annoying."

Lea scoffs from beside Y/N, who looks on as Harry waltzes effortlessly around the bar, making any and everyone his biggest fan. She doesn't understand how he does it — or even why he does it — but they both know he's charismatic enough to convince anyone to sleep with him, bail him out of jail, or sell him their house. Or, all of the above.

"I don't understand why you're being so mean," Lea replies as Y/N wraps her lips around her straw, sipping her cocktail, "He's actually really nice."

"Yeah, I can fucking see that."

Lea snorts and shakes her head. "You could probably learn a thing or two from him, actually."

Y/N glares at her and slides her elbows off the bar, rising from the barstool and walking back over to their booth. She doesn't know who this guy thinks he is. Dom brought him tonight, apparently they work together, and everyone just... welcomed him, like he's the son of god or something. There was never a question of whether or not he fit in, and no one asked one another if they liked him. It was irritating because in fact, everyone loved him. Except Y/N, of course.

She'd known him for all of three hours and found his flirtatious nature annoying. She didn't have an issue with his kindness, but it had to be for show, didn't it? No one was actually that nice all the time. She would pay big bucks just to see him properly angry. Maybe then she would like him more.

"Wipe that scowl off your face. You look like you're gonna go on a murder spree."

Y/N rolls her eyes as she slides into the booth, ignoring the typical teasing coming from Dom.

"Me? I could never."

He chuckles and wraps a loose arm around her shoulders, leaning down to catch her ear. "He's the nicest guy ever. You're being really silly, Y/N."

She shrugs his arm off of her, "I don't have to like him."

"That's true," he says with a nod. They both look up to watch him flirt effortlessly with a blonde across the room, a wide toothy grin taking over her face as she laughs, reaching out to run her fingers over his bicep. Y/N resists gagging. "But you don't have a valid reason to hate him."

"I do, actually. He's flirted with nearly half of the bar."

"So you're slut-shaming him?"

"I am not." Y/N mutters.

"Don't look now, but he's coming this way."

She tries not to groan as she glances up. Sure enough, this mysterious Harry plops down at the booth, an empty glass in his large hand.

"You guys need refills?"

She goes to shake her head, but Dom cuts her off. "I think Y/N does, actually. Oh, and could you grab me one while you're up there?"

She sends him a glare through squinted eyes, grumbling as he forces her out of the booth. She passes Harry, continuing her trek up to the bar, and rolls her eyes when she feels him scrambling to catch up to her.

"Hey, Y/N, right?"

She nods, ignoring his presence beside her.

"Nice to meet you. I don't think we got a chance to talk tonight."

"Yeah." she says curtly, waving down the bartender. He misses her and she sighs out in frustration.

"Oh, lemme do it," Harry replies, using his taller stature to grab the attention of the bartender. She grumbles and pushes her elbows up onto the surface of the wood. She bets if she'd worn a top with more cleavage tonight, she wouldn't have to rely on Harry. "I'll take another tequila soda, please, and whatever she wants."

Y/N scowls up at him but nevertheless hands him the empty glasses. "Just two vodka crans, thanks."

"Is that your go-to drink?" Harry asks.

"Only when I'm feeling annoyed."

"Tough day at work?"

"Something like that," she mutters, turning around to face him. "What's with this whole nice guy act? Do you go home and secretly play with human bones or something?"

Harry's eyebrows furrow. "Like... like taxidermy?"

"No. Like psychopathy."

"Are you asking me if I'm a psychopath because I'm... nice?"

"Yeah. There's no way you act like this because you want to. It's weird and you're not fooling me."

Their drinks appear on the bar top and Y/N quickly grabs hers and Dom's, walking back to the booth. She sits down at the end so Harry can't take a seat next to her, only for him to slide in across from her. The tension is apparent as Y/N glares at him, and Dom clears his throat awkwardly.

"Harry's a psychopath." she blurts out. She hopes that's enough to maybe push him out of the group, but instead he just breaks out in loud laughter, a stupid, dazzling grin appearing on his face.

"You're funny," he says once he's calmed down from laughing, "I think we're gonna be good friends."

[fruitsoxs]

Hi!! can i request fluffy stuff about The Emperor and Omeluum? (it can be hcs or small blurbs,you choose!!) :3

yess! ive never written for them before so i hope i do them justice!

pairings; the emperor x reader, omeluum x reader warnings; none notes; struggled a tiny bit with this one - but i think i wrote something pretty cute. requests are open!

The Emperor 

Your limbs ache as you lay down to finally get some much needed rest. After a full day of adventuring through Faerûn, you deserve some time to yourself. The day you just had was particularly bad. Filled with battle upon battle. Your arms ache from swinging around your weapon, and your legs are basically screaming to be given a break. You may have come out a little worse for wear as well. You have bandages covering your mid section, along with bruises and cuts on your face. It was…an intense day. You stretch your arms above your head and groan, finally relaxing.

A yawn exits your throat, and you turn over. The moment you close your eyes, you find yourself drifting into a peaceful sleep. When you open your eyes, however, you are not back at camp. You sit up slowly, eyeing the area around you. Familiarity sets in when you realize you are currently in your dream visitor’s realm. You look around for the mind flayer in question, smiling when your eyes land on the figure. He’s in his real form, back turned away from you as he looks over the realm.

You push yourself onto your feet, walking over to him slowly. You go to put your hand on his shoulder, but his voice stops you before you can make contact. 

“You are very daring.” he says, still looking away. 

You’re not sure how to respond to that, eyes blinking in confusion. Is that all he pulled you here to say? “I’m sorry?” you ask. He lets out a low chuckle, one that seems more afraid than amused. “Don’t be sorry. It’s a part of you I have always admired greatly. Your determination, your bravery, it all makes you…amazing.” his words are calculated, with a bit of warmth beneath them. “However… It… makes me nervous when you charge head first into battle.” he says after taking a breath.

The realization that he’s worried about you hits you like a punch from an enemy. You stand there awestruck for a moment, letting a silence wash over. After a while you clear your throat, and let your hand rest on his arm softly. He stiffens at the touch, before turning his head down to look at you. 

“I’m okay.” you mumble, reassuringly. 

He doesn’t say anything for a moment. He simply reaches out and cups your face with his hand. “You could have died today.” he turns fully towards you, and in his eyes you can see just how scared he is. “But I didn’t.” you respond, nudging your head into his grasp. He takes his other hand and cups your other cheek. Now with both of his hands on your face, he tilts your head up to look into his eyes. “I don’t know what I would do if I lost you.”

He leans forward and rests his forehead against yours, his eyes squeezed shut. You let the moment play out, placing your hands on his. The two of you stand there in silence for what feels like forever. Here, you are safe. Here you are loved. 

He finally pulls away, letting hsi touch linger for a moment. “Thank you.” he whispers.

“For what?”

“For allowing me this moment to hold you.”

Omeluum

The thing about the Underdark, is that it is never really safe. You may find some places more pleasant than others, but danger still lurks at every corner. You never know what monster or spore you may run into. Even with having vast knowledge of the place, you are bound to get hurt at some point. That makes the moments of calmness extra special. Still, you wouldn't dare live anywhere else. Your research is very important to you. Not only that, but you’ve managed to find something truly special in your pursuit of knowledge. 

You hum a bit as you look over the resources you managed to score on your last outing, mind at ease now that you’re finally back at the Myconid Colony. A short gasp leaves your lips as a hand wraps around your waste, pulling you back. “ You should know better than to allow your mind to wander here.” the voice of Omelumm invades your senses. Your body unstiffens when you realize who it is, a smile appearing on your lips. 

“I need not worry here. I know that I have you to look after me.” You express, leaning back into his  touch. Omelumm hums at the thought, looking over your shoulder to see what you’ve brought back. “How was your outing?”he asks. You shrug. “It was alright. I didn’t manage to gather much. I didn’t really feel like putting my life in danger today.” You respond. “I would rather you not put yourself in danger at all.”

“That’s a little difficult to do here.”

You turn around to face Omeluum, hands resting on his chest. He wraps his other arm around you, face tilted down to meet your gaze. “Besides, who would gather all of your research supplies if not me?” you ask in a teasing manner. He lets out a deep chuckle. “I suppose you’re right. I should trust you to protect yourself.” 

“I don’t mind you protecting me a tiny bit.” 

You turn your face to the side, pressing a soft kiss in the palms of one of his hands. His voice wavers as he says his next words. “Then I shall protect you. You may depend on me.”

You smile up at him. His eyes are soft as he looks down at you. You know you can depend on him, and he may depend on you as well. Together you are safe.

Yes, the deep dark is rather dangerous. The work is hard, and you often find yourself longing for sunlight. There’s not a doubt in your mind that you would stay here for a million years though. If being here means you get to stay by Omeluum’s side, then you’re perfectly content with all the downsides.  

[cosettepontmercys]

books read in 2024!

books read so far: 58/100

— book blog: http://teatimelit.com  — bookstagram: @cossettereads — gr: http://goodreads.com/cossettereads — sg: https://app.thestorygraph.com/profile/cossettereads

as always, askbox + dms are open if have any questions or would like to chat about books! 🤍

⊹ indicates any (new) favorites of the month! previous months are under the cut!

april ⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚

1) the goodbye cat by hiro arikawa (reread) 2) the traveling cat chronicles by hiro arikawa (reread) 3) this is me trying by racquel marie (arc) 4) kill her twice by stacey lee (arc) 5) the pairing by casey mcquiston (arc) 6) swiped by l.m. chilton (arc) 7) lies and weddings by kevin kwan (arc) 8) the odyssey by homer (audiobook)

january ⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚

1) beach read by emily henry (reread) 2) on palestine by noam chomsky & ilan pappé 3) valley verified by kyla zhao (gifted) 4) the wind at my back: resilience, grace, and other gifts from my mentor, raven wilkinson by misty copeland & susan fales-hill (gifted) 5) check please: year one by ngozi ukazu (reread) 6) check please: year two by ngozi ukazu (reread) 7) check please: year three by ngozi ukazu (reread) 8) check please: year four by ngozi ukazu (reread) 9) raiders of the lost heart by jo segura (gifted) 10) the frame-up by gwenda bond (arc) 11) everything i never told you by celeste ng ⊹ 12) forgive me not by jennifer baker (gifted) 13) ever after always by chloe liese (gifted) 14) the summer of bitter and sweet by jen ferguson (gifted) 15) the lily of ludgate hill by mimi matthews (gifted) 16) last call at the local by sarah grunder ruiz (gifted) ⊹ 17) the sun and the void by gabriela romero-lacruz (gifted) 18) a line in the dark by malinda lo (gifted) 19) biting the hand: growing up asian in black and white america by julia lee (gifted) 20) play it as it lays by joan didion → january wrap up

february ⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚

1) mister hockey by lia riley * 2) collide by bal khabra (arc) * 3) a curious beginning by deanna raybourn (gifted) 4) breaking the ice by k.r. collins * 5) if only you by chloe liese (gifted) * 6) anxious people by frederik backman ⊹ 7) the catch by amy lea (gifted) 8) weekends with you by alexandra paige (arc) 9) happily never after by lynn painter (arc) 10) klara and the sun by kazuo ishiguro 11) good material by dolly alderton 12) in the event this doesn't fall apart by shannon lee barry 13) the night ends with fire (arc) by k.x. song 14) the good, the bad, and the aunties (arc) by jesse q. sutanto 15) where sleeping girls lie (arc) by faridah àbíké-íyímídé 16) sophomore surge by k.r. collins * 17) lighting the lamp by k.r. collins * 18) glove save and a beauty by k.r. collins * 19) home ice advantage by k.r. collins * 20) power play by k.r. collins * 21) grounded by k.r. collins * 22) line chemistry by k.r. collins * → february wrap up

march ⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚

1) happy medium by sarah adler (arc) 2) a darker shade of magic by v.e. schwab (audiobook) 3) expiration dates by rebecca serle (arc) 4) divine rivals by rebecca ross (book club) 5) the siren by katherine st. john (gifted) 6) light in gaza edited by jehad abusalim 7) how to end a love story by yulin kuang (arc) // reviewed here 8) rising from the deep: the seattle kraken, a tenacious push for expansion, and the emerald city's sports revival by geoff baker 9) les misérables by victor hugo (reread) → march wrap up

[creelmalfoylaufeyson69]

Different

Warnings: smut/ angst, and fluff

Y/n was in a corridor with The Doctor, and he kept staring at them very intently. They were trying to figure a way out of this maze, but he just stood there and watched. “Are you gonna help me, or what?” They turned to face him now with annoyance written all over them

“Sorry, it’s just I forgot how attractive you are darling” he walks towards them as a blush forms on their face now. “You think so, Doctor?” They ask him once he stood in front of them. “Of course” Y/n thought it was odd that he was flirting at a time like this

They thought that it was odd he was so focused on them, and not what could be on the ship. “You’re acting strange Doctor… like stranger than usual” they pointed out as he grins. “I’m just happy to have you around again darling” he places a hand onto their cheek, and begins to crease it

“That’s lovely, but we’re on a ship that has so many questions to it” he stops creasing their cheek, and removes his hand from their cheek. “That also would sound lovely to explore more, but I’d rather have me and you time” their face was redder now, which makes him chuckle

“Yeah… I’d like that Doctor…” they said without hesitation. “Good” he said as he starts to take his clothes off. They do the same; but whilst this was happening, the real Doctor was talking to the fake Y/n. The two were trying to figure out what the big mystery was about this ship

“I’m wondering what left 3 years ago?” Fake Y/n asked. “That’s an excellent question Y/n” he says, which makes the fake one smirk. “I know Doctor” the fake Y/n said as he now looks at them

He notices something different about their arm; it was bigger. “Shit!” He cursed as their sharp teeth showed now. He starts to run. The real Y/n was currently on the ground with nothing on at the moment, with the fake Doctor on top of them. He had nothing on either, and he was in them

Their hands were placed firmly on his back as he fucks them. Moans echoed throughout the room the two were in. Y/n never noticed his clothes had vanished either, because they were too focused on him pleasuring them. “Oh Doctor, I’m so close!” They cried out as a door opened

There stood the real Doctor with a shocked expression. He felt hurt, but he knew that they probably didn’t know that it wasn’t him. They noticed, and so does the clone. “Doctor…?” They started in confusion as they now looked back at who was fucking them

The clones hand became bigger, which makes them terrified. They kicked him off of them, and quickly got up. They felt so stupid for falling for such a stupid trick. Tears started to leave their eyes now as the creature got up, and had its clothes back on

They stood next to the real Doctor now. “You’ve made such a big stupid mistake Y/n” the fake Doctor says as the real one gave them his jacket to put on. “Don’t you dare talk to them like that” the real Doctor says as he wraps an arm around them. “But that’s how you feel Doctor, isn’t it?” The fake Doctor asked

Y/n looks at him, but he continues to stare at the fake version of himself. “You think that they like me a lot more than the real you” the fake Y/n comes in now. “That’s not true! We both know damn well that isn’t true!” Fake Y/n felt hurt for being left out of this now since both Doctors were arguing about real Y/n

“What about me…?” The fake Y/n asked. The fake Doctor looks at them. “You don’t think I feel any jealousy about what happened?!” The fake Y/n asks, which makes the real Doctor finally look at them. Y/n had looked away a bit ago, but now they were looking back at him

The fake Y/n stood in front of the fake Doctor now. “We should go Doctor… this is making me very uncomfortable now…” the real Y/n says in a whisper. “We should wait a bit to see if we can actually leave” the two looked at the fake versions again

“I thought it was part of the plan…” fake Doctor says. “I said to flirt, not to fuck!” The fake Y/n says with tears leaving their eyes. “I definitely think it’s safe to leave actually…” the real Doctor says in a whisper. They nodded their head in agreement, and soon the two were back in the main corridor

Y/n starts to cry now, which makes him worried. He hugs them, and then asks them what the problem was. “That version of you was right, you know? I was stupid for the actions I’ve done” they said in a somewhat calm voice. “Y/n darling, you didn’t know it wasn’t me. Don’t blame yourself for that”

“How do I not Doctor? Rose wouldn’t have fallen for that trick” The Doctor was taken aback from Rose being mentioned, and that they compared themselves to her still. “I am stupid Doctor… I don’t deserve to be your companion. You should just take me back h-“

He stops hugging them, and had his own tears leaving him now. “I’m not taking you back home. I’m not taking you back home because of a mistake you made. I’ve made so many mistakes too Y/n, and many of those mistakes hurt, and still do. But I continue to do what is right, even if it hurts” he explained as his tears begin to leave quicker

“And I definitely didn’t make a mistake by choosing you as my campion, and lover” he adds as they placed their hands onto his face now. They begin to wipe his tears away as they place their forehead against his now. The Tardis soon appears in front of the two. Y/n stops wiping his tears away, and let both their hands go back to their sides

They kissed his forehead as the two held hands now. “I’m really glad I met you Y/n” he says finally as he now takes out his sonic screwdriver from the Tardis. They held onto his arm now as a small smile forms on their face. “I’m glad I met you too”

[northern-passage]

i was scrolling back through a bunch of asks about lea and i stumbled upon one where you were asked "if the RO's had to chose between the city and hunter who would pick what" and out of everyone, Lea is like the only one without a doubt to save the hunter and IM SO ????? I LITERALLY LOVE THEM SM. ugh i want to draw/write a comic for that so badly now, im so deranged about the fact the lea would pick the hunter </3 im curious though, would that apply for the hunter even if their relationship is bad?? will lea always pick the hunter?

interesting question.... 🤔

i suppose it would depend on a few other things... like how bad their relationship is and also how bad the hunter's relationship is with other people. if they're just a straight up terror and making everyone around them miserable, then i think Lea would make the choice against them, in a "mercy kill" kind of way (and it would be very difficult for them). but if it's just their relationship that's bad... they would still pick the hunter.

they have that kind of blind, stupid loyalty.

[unabashedlyinlove]

I love that Jared gives these lil shout outs to his fans. He did it several cons ago to Gayle and now Lea. Its also nice that he remembers people who he met in cons before and lets them know or asks them a question related to something they talked before. As his fans, we do feel appreciated for these small gestures that shows that he really cares.

Source: 1, 2, 3