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tabbedtabby · 2 days

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good luck, babe! | chapter 2

regina george x reader

summary: After the Queen Bee of North Shore makes up rumors about you taking pictures of girls in the changing room, you decide to take matters into your own hands. You didn’t think that would mean coming to a reluctant agreement with Regina George.

a/n: i wasn’t gonna add cady but now i am because it’s convenient for me so just pretend she’s in the last chapter lol. also they get high way faster than what’s accurate but i wrote this in like 4 sittings it felt longer to me pls spare me. if the picture collage thing is ugly i’m sorry i’m not a tumblr native 😭 but anyways big thanks to everyone who interacted with the first chapter mwah!!!!! (photo creds from left to right: @/mediorcesav on insta, @/marvelsgirl616, casual mv by chappell roan)

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When the bell rings after 7th period, you’re already halfway out the door.

You’re already sober enough from earlier so you’re desperate to get outside, even if Regina will be there. You bite the inside of your mouth in annoyance. You like your after school alone time; you didn’t want the person who literally ruined your social life to be there. At least maybe she’ll leave right after you smoke. You realize she most likely won’t after you remember she drives. How could you forget that bedazzled orange Jeep?

You feel the dappled sunlight sink heat into your skin once you enter the woods behind the baseball field. It really was a nice day. You make your way to your usual spot and lift up the pile of sticks and leaves that hide your forest stash. The guy who sells to you charges a ridiculous amount for carts compared to just the plant so you try to use them sparingly. Even if this shit stinks up the whole forest.

You’re not sure if Regina will care or not if you start without her, so you pull out your phone to pass the time. Besides, you want to be sober anyway when she finally shows.

After about 20 minutes of standing there, you start to get impatient. You almost pull the bag out to start without her before you finally see a flash of blonde hair from behind the trees.

“Took you long enough.” you mutter, already opening the bag without paying Regina much attention. Your patience was windeled, and you don’t especially want to talk to her anyway.

“Sorry I have a social life. I guess you wouldn’t know,” she snaps back, her voice strained.

You feel the annoyance crawl down your back like a centipede, and you have to bite the inside of your mouth to stop yourself from saying something back to her. She holds basically your life in her hands since you’d be both fucked and poor if she decided to snitch on you. Probably not a good idea to start a fight on the first day of your little deal, but she made it difficult.

You grab one of the cans from under the pile of leaves as you see Regina cross her arms a couple feet away from you. Her eyes watching your every move makes you a bit wary on instinct. You feel like a mouse being stalked by a snake. You grab a decently sized piece out of the bag and put it on the crushed can. You couldn’t be bothered to roll your own blunts, so this was the next best thing.

“How much have you smoked before?” you ask, just wanting a general idea on how much she should have so that you wouldn’t have to drag her to the parking lot. Apparently, she takes great offense.

“What are you, my mom? Just hurry up so I can get out of here,” she says begrudgingly, like being out here was the biggest possible drag on her life. She was really grating on your last nerve right now.

“Trying my best.” you respond dryly, giving her a snide smile as you fiddle with the lighter.

“Well, obviously it’s not good enough. What are you even doing, anyway? This is the shadiest shit I’ve ever seen—”

You blow the first hit out of your mouth harshly. “Can you please just shut the fuck up? I don’t want to be out here with you either!”

“That’s shocking. I’m surprised this isn’t your ultimate wet dream, being alone in the forest with me,” Regina sneers, nothing but disgust on her face. Like you were some kind of animal instead of human.

“What’s that going off of? The photo collection that you made up?” you snap, putting the can down for a minute. “Believe me, I want nothing to do with you either. But since we’re gonna be out here every day, you could at least make it a little easier.”

You can tell she wants to rip your throat out just by the way she looks at you. Pursed lips, downturned eyebrows, piercing blue eyes surrounded by eyeliner almost as sharp as the look she’s giving you right now. She’s way too tense for someone about to get high.

“Whatever.” she finally says, although the edge to her voice makes you want to scoff. Better not to sour her mood more than necessary, though.

Pleased with the newfound silence, you light the piece on top of the can once more and take another hit. It’s strong enough to make you cough, and you sit down against the foot of a tree. Regina raises an eyebrow at you.

“I thought you were supposed to be some kind of professional,” she says, but her voice isn’t quite as taunting as before. It almost sounded like a joke. Maybe she was considering not making this hell for you after all.

“It’s not good if it doesn’t make you cough.” you respond with a shrug. She looks at you expectantly, but you pretend you don’t see. You don’t want to have to stand back up just to pass her the can.

Eventually, she sits next to you (albeit, begrudgingly) and you pass the can to her, lighting it again when she puts her lips up to it. She explodes into a coughing fit the minute the smoke hits her lungs.

You can’t help but snicker at the sight of Regina George coughing her lungs out with just one hit from the can. It was almost strange to see her not perfectly arranged the way she was at school. You were up close enough to see the strings that sew her together.

She glares at you from the corner of her eye, but it only makes you laugh harder. You’re acting stupid right now and you’re aware of it, but you can’t stop. It’s a nice sort of high. Not like when you smoke too much and everything starts to blur together, which happens more than you’d like to admit. But this is nice. You lean back until your back touches the grass.

Regina has a couple more hits until she’s smoked about everything that’ll come out of it, and you both just lay there on the forest floor. You’re surprised she isn’t whining about dirt getting on her outfit. Maybe she’s too stoned to care. She never did answer your question about her tolerance.

Your thoughts go elsewhere as you stare up at the sky. The tops of the trees cover most of it. The sun from behind the leaves make them look almost as if they are glowing. It’s so beautiful. You wish you could reach up and feel it between your own fingertips, the fabric of the sky.

“You don’t care about what I think about you.” You hear Regina say, her voice only a couple of feet away from you. It sounds more like a statement than a question.

You don’t why it’s funny to you, but it is. You feel the laugh escape your lips before you can stop it.

“I guess not.” you respond, even though you’re not certain if she wanted a response. It sounded like she was just thinking out loud. You feel that.

“Everyone else does. They grovel to me like lap dogs.” she says amusingly, although her voice drags and you can tell she’s starting to get tired.

“You don’t like it?” you ask with surprise.

“It’s the way it should be,” she declares, as if you’re stupid for even asking. “But everyone else is a less hot version of me. It gets annoying talking to the same clones that hang onto my every word. Like, just be normal for once in your life,” Regina complains, an annoyed edge in her tone near the end. Somehow you could tell she was talking about Gretchen. That poor girl really did hang onto every little thing Regina said or did. It was almost worshipful. But in an unfortunate, sad kind of way.

Her problems didn’t seem all that hard compared to others, but you don’t say anything. It’s intesting to you to hear her talk about this stuff, to see what goes on in her head. You’d never really considered what her life was like. You wonder if there’s a reason she’s the way that she is. There must be. Everyone’s a product of their environment in some shape or form. Of course, it doesn’t excuse everything she’s done, but that thought makes you want to get inside her head somehow.

You shake your head at the silly train of thought. Regina George was just plain mean. Nothing more to it. You turn your head to look at her as you realize you never responded.

Her eyes are closed, hair splayed out on the forest ground. She looks stoned as fuck, her chest rising and falling dangerously slow. You snort and roll your eyes. How low was her tolerance? You already felt mostly normal again.

Somehow she still manages to look perfect, even if you could mistake her as a corpse. You lay your head back down. Your parents wouldn’t mind if you were home a little late, right?

After that, you and Regina would meet to smoke behind the school almost every day, except when Regina had plans with her friends and you would just go alone. You still wish she wasn’t there, but sometimes she’s okay to talk to when she isn’t being a priss. She complains about her friends and boys and how sometimes in the morning her eyelash curler refuses to work. It’s entertaining to hear about how shallow her problems are. You still want to punch her most of the time, though.

This time around, however, she’s complaining about math. Something about her teacher failing her on purpose or something to make her have sex with him to get her grade up. You seriously doubt that’s true, but you listen anyway.

“Like, he’s totally obsessed with me. I know how to do the work, but he always marks it as wrong anyway. That Cady girl helps me with it, and she’s some kind of math freak.” Regina exclaims, taking a huge hit from the smoking can. She immediately sputters and you take the can back from her with a slight roll of your eyes. That’s probably enough for her.

“Is she, though?” you ask, taking a hit from the can yourself. “She’s in my Calc class and lately she’s been doing really shitty. I guess you guys are rubbing off on her,” you say with amusement.

Regina takes a deep breath, an agitated sigh coming out of her. “What’s the point of her tutoring me, then? They’re gonna take me off the soccer team if I don’t start passing like all of my classes. It’s like she wants me to fail.” she seethes, and she sounds genuinely upset. She could afford to pay attention in class instead of doing her makeup if better grades is what she wants, but alas.

You kind of want to offer to help her, but it’s her own fault so you bite your tongue. You put the can down with a sharp sigh. You’d rather not smoke too much around her in fear that you’ll start acting stupid and she’ll post it all over the internet. Just the slightly more giggly high is fine for now.

Regina stares bullets through you as your stash back under the pile of leaves. You pick up your backpack and get ready to leave. You feel fine enough to walk home.

“You’re not gonna offer to help me?” she asks indignantly, as if you owed it to her. You have to bite your lip to keep from groaning in annoyance. Could she be any more of a spoiled brat?

“Why would I do that?” you respond, feeling that your distaste seeps through your voice as well as your expression. You’re tired, both from school and from hanging out with Regina for too long. You just want to go home.

“Because I’m keeping your secret?” she says with that tone that reminds you of a viper. The one she uses to get whatever she wants from people by threatening to ruin them. Your chest bubbles with that same anger as that day in the cafeteria.

“Dude, I’m literally your plug. I’ve done enough for you to keep your mouth shut.” you snap, slinging your backpack over your shoulder. She was really starting to piss you off. That’s how it was with Regina; just when you think she’s all right, she starts doing this bullshit again.

“So what? I don’t need weed. I can break our deal whenever I want. Besides, you’ll only tutor me until the end of the month. It’s not that deep.” It’s only the beginning of October, so you’d be wasting more of your time with her for the next month, but of course she doesn’t include that. God, you’re so pissed off, but what can you do? Not be able to smoke anymore? Get suspended again? You hate that she can just hang this over your head until you comply. You bite your lip hard enough to draw blood as you stare at her, one of her hands on her hip and her eyebrows raised as if you’re a dog she just told to heel that won’t listen. Your hands bunch into tight fists until your knuckles turn white. You really wish you had seen her with that bruise right about now.

“Fine.” you spit, pushing your way out of the clearing and back towards the school. Great. Now it would take even longer to shake Regina off. You shoulder branches of leaves out of your way, your feet kicking at the dirt. You wished she could just be fucking normal and that she never started any of this in the first place.

“I better see you tomorrow, loser!” You hear Regina scream from somewhere behind you. God, you were gonna kill her. Or yourself. Whichever came first.

#mean girls #mean girls x reader #mean girls 2024 #regina george #regina george x reader #regina george x you #regina george 2024 #mean girls 2024 x reader

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egophiliac · 7 hours

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Hi there! I really love your comics and how expressive they are. How do you go about making the characters in your comic so expressive?

thank you! 💚💜💚 I am REALLY bad at explaining things, so my apologies if this doesn't make a lot of sense, but maybe there's something helpful in here somewhere. :')

1. warm up! drawing is a physical activity, after all! so if I'm planning on sitting down and drawing for a while, I usually start off by taking a couple of minutes to doodle a bunch of circles and lines and random shapes, just to get my drawing arm goin' again and get back into the physical groove. just stuff like this:

and just do that for however long you feel like! you can kind of feel when your arm starts to loosen up and your strokes get more confident. it makes it a lot easier to get those swoopy big lines and gestures!

2. play around with how you use your lines! paying attention to the shapes that they're making will change a lot about how much force and life your drawing feels like it has. (no way is better than another, it just depends on what effect you're going for and how it looks as part of the larger whole.)

and you can also use lines against each other to get different vibes:

it's not really a matter of "you need to make sure all your lines are always doing this all the time", it's more like...being aware of it, and getting that into the general thrust of a pose, if that makes sense? like a lot of smaller lines of action, beyond the big one that goes through the spine.

(just gonna use my own art as examples, apologies)

if you have a good foundation of tension, then all of the little bumps and contours of a character's details won't get in the way of it, and it'll still come through.

and don't forget about negative space either! the spaces between things have their own interesting shapes too!

I don't mean this to come off as, like, all these extra things that you need to be constantly thinking about and stressing over. more like...just try different stuff and then see how it works and how it changes the feeling! if you find a good shape, see if you can exaggerate it and make it more interesting, and how that affects things! angles and shapes are a LOT of fun to experiment and mess around with, especially when you're going more cartoony. :D

3. acting!

just...spending a little time to think about what the characters are actually doing! (aka the "figuring out what everyone is doing with their hands" bit.) this is more a personal preference, but especially in multi-panel comics, I like to have them be in the middle of doing stuff. not just big actions, but smaller things -- like even just how they're sitting or standing -- so that it feels like we're looking in on the middle of a scene, instead of a couple of characters just standing around neutrally and staring straight ahead while talking at each other.

this probably sounds really obvious, but it is one of the most fun parts for me! I love trying to find some little action or something that they can be involved in, especially if it's relevant to their character or adds an extra joke. (for some reason this usually involves me being mean to Sebek) (I'm sorry)

it doesn't need to be everyone Always! Doing! Something! all the time, especially if starts becoming distracting (sometimes they do actually need to just be standing around neutrally and staring straight ahead, especially if there's a bigger action going on that you want the audience to focus on instead). but even just figuring out some kind of non-neutral pose for them to be in can add a lot and make it feel less generic!

3. thumbnailing!

this is, again, very much a personal preference; unfortunately, every artist really is different, and we all have different processes that work better for us. so I can only speak to my personal experience! but I find what helps is to start REALLY rough -- not so much as in messy, as in not trying to start right into actually drawing everything out. like, literally just starting with stick figures and :O faces.

it probably doesn't sound relevant when talking about Drawing Expressively, but I find it's really, really helpful to have already figured out what everyone should be doing (acting!) and what the overall general layout and flow of things should be, before getting into the actual meat of drawing the characters. like having a sketch for the sketch!

(good compositional flow is something I struggle with, and text layout especially, so this stage also helps a LOT with making sure things are fitting where I want them and staying consistent/not breaking screen direction/etc.)

then after that, I can go ahead and focus on getting those Shapes and Lines and Angles and all that, without having to think too much about the layout or where things should go!

(of course, the downside of that is that my thumbnails are usually way better than my actual drawings, alas alas.)

4. this is more philosophical, but...give yourself some slack. the stress of Making Things Look Good is, ironically, often the biggest problem. (see: thumbnails looking better than the actual drawings.) so...let yourself draw shittier and without regards to accuracy. make things just for yourself without thinking about posting or showing them to anyone else. draw stupid faces and wrong proportions because they feel better that way. focus on what's fun and not on getting a perfect end result. "draw expressively, not well", as they say -- you can always tighten up things like proportions and details later, if you really want to.

that's all WAY easier said than done -- god knows I haven't really managed it -- but even just aiming for that attitude really, REALLY helps. if your lines are confident, they'll look a lot more alive and expressive than lines that are exactly technically precise but have no rhythm in them. (this is why tracing photographs tends to look so weirdly stiff and unrealistic, by the way -- even if you're drawing realistically, you usually need to exaggerate and stylize a little bit so it doesn't look lifeless.) it's a balance between caring about what you draw, but also being willing to let things go a little bit.

↑ I hope some of this helps! I don't know if any of this was actually what you had in mind, let alone much of it actually made sense outside of my head. :') but hopefully you (or other people) will be able to get something out of it!

#art #twisted wonderland #(not really related but since that's what the examples are)#i'm so sorry most of my art advice boils down to 'SHAPES ARE FUN'#(they are though)

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bellasprettywords · 3 days

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So High School (Spencer Reid x Reader)

a/n: It’s me, hi, so I’m kind of back, although I’ve decided to expand my horizons and also write for Doctor Spencer Reid from Criminal Minds; either way, I hope you like this little writing🤭💕

This one shot is inspired by So High School by Taylor Swift from The Tortured Poets Department, which is my current obsession, so if you are swifties, I hope you guys catch the references 🫶🏼

This is season 2 Spencer, cause I just really dig the shy-sweet vibe

This is not proofread, as it’s 2 am, but I couldn't stop

y/n – your name

Warnings: Friends to lovers (kindish), mentions of alcohol

Word count: 2,409

My Masterlist

Working at the BAU wasn’t easy, but every now, and then you’d have days when all you had pending was paperwork, and you’d catch a break. Like right now, sure, you still had a couple of reports to get through, but overall the mood seemed relaxed, even if you’d been working nonstop for the last 24 hours.

You were typing your reports and sporadically, you’d catch a glance of Spencer Reid’s concentrated face, whose desk was in front of you. Sure, you were work friends, but deep down you knew you had a small crush on the twenty-five-year-old Doctor. Your thoughts were starting to fly away, thinking about Spencer's hair, framing his delicate features, his big eyes, which seemed to move frantically over the computer screen, the way he bit the inside of his cheek when he was invested into his work, and the way his brows were crunching, making small wrinkles in his forehead; when suddenly, your train of thought was interrupted.

“You know what we should do? We should play kiss, marry, kill” Penelope suggested way too loudly coming into the bullpen with a huge grin and walking frantically to your desk.

“What are you even saying?” exclaimed Emily, standing from her chair and approaching your desk

“We still have to finish our reports” said Spencer, who seemed to be glued ho his computer, taping frenetically

“Did I just hear kiss, marry, kill?” Morgan approached your desk and one by one, the gang was coming all together

“Okay, first round, y/n, kiss, marry, kill with Gideon, Hotch and Rossi?” Penelope asked a little too excited for the question

“Come on, I’m not answering that” you said chuckling at the thought of even giving a response

“Comeeeeeee ooooooon” this time Morgan insisted and the absurdity of the question made you laugh so hard, Spencer looked up from his computer

“Fine, kiss Rossi, marry Hotch and kill Gideon, because he has way too much dad energy to kiss or marry him” you said, and your friends burst out laughing

“We are way too sleep-deprived to be here” Emily said chuckling, “Also, I’m starving”

“I have a frozen pizza at home I just can’t wait to devour” you said and suddenly your friend's eyes seemed to sparkle

“Now that I know that, I’m totally going home with you” Penelope said clinging to your arm

“I’m tagging along as well” Emily added clinging into your other arm

“They say three is a multitude, so I’m coming, just to keep you guys in check” Morgan exclaimed, and you couldn’t wait for Spencer to add himself into your plans, but unfortunately, the young doctor was back into his working frenezzy.

“Como on Spence, we are going home” you said hoping he’d tag along to your improvised plan, even if you were almost certain he’d say no, considering he didn’t really talk to you other than work related business; and rarely info dumped on you, which made you a little sad, considering his info dumps were one of the things that you most liked about him.

“Excuse me?” Spencer said crunching his eyebrows and staring over his screen monitor into your eyes

“We… we are all coming to my house to eat pizza, I was… I was wondering if you’d like to come” you stuttered and felt your cheeks become red. Anytime, you’d try to talk to Spencer about anything other than work, words would trip out of your mouth incomprehensibly, your cheeks would flush in a bright shade of red, and you were pretty sure anyone with a brain knew about your crush, specially considering you’d act like a high schooler in love around him.

“Come on man, we can even trow some poker to sweetener the deal for you” Morgan added

“Also, y/n told me that she has the new Grand Theft Auto, so we could play for a while” Penelope tried convincing Spencer appealing to his love for video games, and if it wasn’t obvious before, well, it was obvious now that you were eager to have the boy-genius at your place

“Alright, let me just grab my bag” Spencer said calmly, almost… oblivious to the fact that your friends were playing smooth wingman and wing-woman

“Penny and I are driving together, and Derek is taking his bike, so Reid, you can drive with y/n” Emily said and for a second, you couldn't believe how shamelessly uncool your friends were being about the whole situation

“If it’s alright with you, I’d appreciate riding with you” Spencer told you a little… flustered? No way, you were the one fangirling over him, maybe he was just getting secondhand embarrassment for the whole situation and your friend’s pathetic attempts to get you together.

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The ride home was quite nice, Spencer seemed to loosen up when he got the chance to share statistics on pizza consuming habits in the U.S. and somehow, he managed to incorporate the history of pizza:

“So, a precursor of pizza was probably the focaccia, a flatbread known to the Romans as panis focacius, to which toppings were then added. Modern pizza evolved from similar flatbread dishes in Naples, Italy, between the 16th and mid-18th century” Spencer kept explaining, while you took the chance to steal a couple of glances, even if it was a driving hazard “I’m sorry, I’m sure you are bored with my nonstop chatter” the young Doctor added shyly

“No way, I really enjoy your facts and stories” you said, and a shy smile formed into his lips, so you took a leap of faith, hoping with all your heart he wouldn't be uncomfortable with what you were about to say “I love the way your mind works, I find it amazing how you can just know so much, you know?”

“Thank you, it is called an eidetic memory, most people think it’s weird” Spencer said looking down to his hands, that were lying over his lap.

OH MY GO, WAS DOCTOR SPENCER REID BLUSHING? You were trying your best to hide your excitement, and luckily you were saved by the bell, as without realizing it, you were already parking in front of your apartment building

“So this is me, home sweet home” you said turning off the engine of your car and Spencer gave you a side smile that made your stomach flutter

“Thanks for the drive, and you know, for having me” he said, and you were high on his words; everything about him seemed to fascinate you, but before your mind could go wild, Morgan tapped your car window to let you know he was there, and after a couple of minutes, Penelope and Emily were outside as well

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“I’ll put the pizza in the oven, so maybe we can play a round of poker while we wait?” you suggested as your friends took a seat at the table, and you handed them a beer each.

“That’s what I’m talking about” Morgan said, already shuffling the deck of cards. The game was fun, although Spencer won each and every round. The night was everything you could ask for, Spencer seemed comfortable at your apartment, and he even got around to joking and laughing out loud.

“Truth or dare?” Morgan said spinning his empty beer bottle with mischief in his eyes, and laughs started bursting, until it landed on Emily

“Truth” she said glancing at Morgan with amusement

“Have you even come into work tipsy?” Morgan asked

“Alright, yeah, once when we were working with the Newport Police” she replied calmly “Now, have anything stronger?” Emily asked, lifting her beer bottle

“As a matter of fact, I do” you said standing from your chair and bringing different alcohol bottles, you had a wide selection of whiskey, wine, rum, tequila, and vodka

“What are you? A bartender?” Penelope asked, surprised by the alcohol selection.

“I tried, I even got a book, but between life and work I never got around to reading it” you added pouring your friends a couple of drinks.

Emily spun the bottle, and it landed on Spencer, who gulped a little too loudly, and you couldn’t keep your eyes from his Adam’s apple “Truth or dare, boy-genius?” she asked taking you off from your thought

“I… mm… truth?” he said almost too afraid of what your friends could think about asking him

“Alright, what do you think about y/n?” Emily asked bluntly, and you could see Spencer’s cheeks turning red. Sure, you loved your friends, but their mingling was getting way too obvious for your mental health

“I… I think she’s great, I mean, of course she is incredibly smart, she’s sweet, funny, and she has a special way to always makes you feel heard and taking into consideration. It is undeniably that she’s pretty, I mean, and… yeah that's what I think” Spencer said staring into your eyes, and you couldn't believe it, you literally were wonderstruck.

Did he like you? Did he just admit you were pretty? You were literally on cloud nine when you realized Spencer had spun the bottle, and this time it was facing you

“What’s… What’s your favorite movie?” Spencer asked shyly, and all eyes turned to him

“Come on man, that was your shot” Morgan said leaning into Spencer

“That changes, but right now I’d say American Pie” you said trying not to sound too embarrassed. Secrets were spilled, confessions were made, and shots were taken, until Penelope spun the bottle and once more, it landed on Spencer

“Truth or dare, lover-boy?” Penelope asked a little too excited, which once more made Spencer a little nervous, considering the situation, and of course, the fact that he pretty much just admitted having a crush on you

“Dare?” Spencer said, almost asking

“Uuuh I got a great one, read y/n’s bartender book, and then prepare us some fire ass drinks” she said almost euphoric

“Oh, okay, sure, I can do that” Spencer said released a breath he didn't realize he was holding “y/n, would you mind lending me the book? So I can read it, please?” he asked shyly, and you knew this was your chance to make a move

“Of course, although I’m not sure where it is, so… maybe you can help me find it?” you asked hoping he caught the subtext

“Yes, yes I can help you look” he said, and a little grin formed into his lips

“What about playing the Grand Theft Auto whille they go lok for the book?” Morgan asked smootly, giving you just what you needed, a chance to slip to the side with Spencer

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You were now in your room, with the guy that made your stomach flutter, and once again, you coultn shake away the feeling of being a sixteen year old girl approaching her crush for the first time. Okay, so until now you knew there was a chance he actually liked you, so for the first time, you tried to flirt smootly

“So, the book must me somewhere on this wall” you told Spencer pointing at the wall-tall-bookshelf that adorned your room

“That is an impressive collection” Reid said admiring your books

“Thank you, I like… reading, and of course, books” you mumbled and between the nerves of having him in your room, and the fact that he was aproaching you, starring directly at your eyes, your braing wasn’t braining it. This defenetly wasn’t considered smooth, or flirty

“Truth or dare?” Spencer said coming closer to you

“Truth” you responded almost instantly

“Why is American Pie your favorite movie?” he asked, and the question genualy threw you off

“I know most people think it’s a really stupid movie, but even in those crazy scenarios, the guys get to laugh, and learn about life, sure, it’s twisted, and watching to too your can defenetly cause issues, but I think it’s a great piece of cinematography”

“That’s impressive, altough I can’t judge, as I’ve never got arroud to watch it” Spencer said, moving a little, and turning back to your book collection

“Truth or dare, Doctor Reid?” you asked playfully

“Truth” he said chuckling, and once again, you confirmed his little laughs sent a dopamine charge into your brain that was almost adictive

“What’s your favorite thing from my collection?” you asked, moving your hand motioning your bookshelf

“While you have an impressive Aristotle collection, which I’m a big fan of, right now my favorite thing in this room is not exactly a thing, but a person” he said once again leaning into you, “Truth or dare, miss y/n?” he asked coming even closer to your face

“Truth” you asked playing it safe, as he had suddenly turned into Doctor Smooth Reid, and seeing him take charge, was a side of him, one that you were totally enjoying

“What are you thinking about right now?” he said, leaning a little closer to you

“Actually, all I can think about right now is kissing you” you admited, bitting you lower lip, but not giving him time to answer, you asked “Truth or dare?”

“Dare” Spencer said, with his eyes lingering from your eyes, to your lips and viceversa

“I dare you to kiss me” you said, and as you finished yout sentence, his hand was cupping your cheeck, his other hand was placed on your waste, and his lips were softly crashing into yours. The kiss was soft, and sweet, with a couple of bites in between. One kiss, then another one, and swiftly, Spencer made you turn, placing your back towards your bookshelf and getting closer to you, just like you, he longed for this moment, for your kiss, for your touch. You were enjoyoing yourselves way too much, when you heard a knock on your door, which made the two of you burst out laughing

“We should go back to them” Spencer said, placing a las kiss into your lips

“Maybe next Saturday you can come over, I mean, you can’t go though life without the rite of passage of watching American Pie” you said chuckling, hoping with all your flustered heard he’s say yes

“That would me wonderful, I can’t keep living like this, without watching American Pie, I mean” he said lacing his fingers with yours, and opening the door for you, so the two of you could go back to your friends, who were also laughing from the living room, as they were sure their mission of getting you together had been succesful.

Part 2

I really hope you liked it, let me know if you want part 2, as I'm pondering the idea of the American Pie date.

Kay, love you, bye 🩷

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #dr spencer reid

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zexapher · 2 days

Text

Vacuan Nights, Like Vacuan Days

They’re just so great together! I’d love for Jaune and Weiss to get a little downtime in Vacuo to live out a moment like this. They really deserve it, and I’d love to see Jaune’s guitar make a reappearance.

The comic here was inspired by u/Silverstar1243’s excellent piece of art, A Serenade Under the Moonlight. Send some love to them on their twitter, commission some art if you’re willing and able, they’ve made some great stuff.

You folks may have noticed I threw in a couple of references for those in the know; the Golden Oreos behind Yang (double stuffed, I might add) for the trio’s ship, Weiss liking it rough for Mallobaude’s great fic, and of course I made a whole theme around the Arabian Nights Disney song. A song, along with its Aladdin compatriots, which I spent the better part of a day finding covers for just to listen to on repeat while I worked.

This one’s now officially my longest comic project, with 14 panels, two over the past record since I added the White Knight kiss at the end. I’m pretty happy with how it turned out. Not sure I’d say it was more difficult than my Vanity of Vanities post, but for this one I actually knew how to use my editing software going into it (at least somewhat).

Put a lot of work into this one, been working on it on and off since February. Took a few breaks for vacation, to make my memorial post for Rooster Teeth, and another five meme edits or so, but I came back around to it. First half was pretty easy, relatively minor edits inserting characters into scenes and so on. The second half with Jaune and Weiss was tougher though, with color correcting, merging poses, redrawing features, drawing Jaune’s entire head to fix some lighting issues, etc. Really like how the edit to make Jaune strum his guitar turned out.

The time it took to make the whole comic got me down a little, until I did a bit of math. Including my side projects since starting this, all the scripting and editing and all, I’ve been pumping out a panel every two days. That seems pretty good to me, that kind of accomplishment makes me a little proud of myself.

Really need to get around to watching the second part of the Justice League Crossover movies. It’s got a few Vacuo scenes that might make things a little more authentic instead of me just using Saphron’s house and pretending it’s a suite in Vacuo. I do love taking yet more character stills from Jaune and friends experiencing deep trauma and turning it into something positive, been making that a bit of a personal habit. And I’ve got to say, the background for Jaune and Weiss’ scene is really beautiful, pulled it from when Sun and Neptune hear Ruby’s message about Salem. That’s just a really good shot all on its own, I even saved a copy for my computer’s wallpaper after editing out the two.

Posting a big RWBY White Knight edit, watching not one but two RWBY Beyond episodes, and all on the trail of the news that RWBY’s found partners that they’re negotiating with and that the creative team is expected to stay on. And I'm sipping bubble tea. Life is good.

Anyway, pardon the long write up. I’m invested in this one, and am quite pleased with how the comic turned out. I hope you all get a kick out of it as well!

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sugarwavelove · 2 days

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Dearest older brother...?

Notes: woke up from my nap and wrote this off the top of my head. Some of this is based off my own personal experiences. Not proofread.

Content to be found: 100% PLATONIC, implied bpd and ocd if you squint, unhealthy sibling dynamics (lmk if there's more I should add)

You remember asking Sunday that question all too well. And boy, how did you regret it.

“Is it ok if I call you… big brother now?”

You so desperately wanted to have a caring family, siblings, but younger naive you clung to the wrong brotherly figure.

He and Robin had such a tight bond, and you, being an only child, envied them. So when you were invited to playdates, you enjoyed every second being with them.

The fond memories of you and Sunday supporting Robin's dreams. Sneaking into the kitchen to grab snacks without getting caught. You three grew so close, you practically were their third sibling.

But happiness doesn't last long. The more you all grew up and followed different paths, the more distant you guys became. Of course, there are still attempts to meet up, but it was difficult. Most of the time, you were left behind with Sunday, the man you called big brother.

Could you really call him that anymore though? He made little effort to keep ties with you. Check in on you. You understand that him and Robin obviously had a closer bond. Therefore, he'd pay more attention to her, but you? It's like he was trying to erase you from his life.

No. That's not right. He distances himself from you and lets you fall into loneliness. Yes, that's true. But then why does he keep coming back every time you're at your breaking point?

“What's wrong? You can always tell me anything. I am your big brother, after all.”

It's the same thing every time.

He asks you what's wrong. You break down. He consoles you. Then leaves and the cycle repeats. And every time you refuse to talk, he'll manipulate your emotions to speak and cause you to break down even more.

Why would a big brother do this to his younger sibling?

You couldn't take the emotional hurt anymore. It's like he just sees this as a game. He always uses the big brother card on you knowing it's your weakness.

Things get worse though. Of course they do.

You caught news that Robin has been found dead. That can't be right. It can't. You loved Robin as if she were your actual sister. Why did she die??

So here you are. Walking to the estate where Sunday should be. Why are you even going to him? You should be distancing yourself and be grieving alone. As much as he emotionally hurts you, you still care about him. As much as he abandons you, you always come back.

As soon as you make it through his office doors, someone aggressively grabs you by the shoulders and backs you up to the nearest wall.

It's Sunday.

He's shaking, breathing hard, clearly angry, but hurt above all. He rests his head on your shoulder, still holding you but with less force.

You've never seen him like this before. In the past, you'd occasionally see tiny outbursts when he couldn't get things the way he wanted, but he never displayed this much emotion near you.

“...Don't leave me too” he said in a shaky voice, but you couldn't catch that. All you could hear was your heartbeat from the adrenaline of suddenly being forced against a wall.

Out of genuine care you still held for him, you embraced him. He stiffened up but soon accepted it.

No matter how much you regretted ever calling him big brother, no matter how much it hurt when he abandoned you, you couldn't find it within your heart to leave and move on.

Comforting him was clearly a mistake. For out of fear he'd lose his only other sibling, he imprisoned you in a spare room in his estate.

He still had to keep up appearances so you'd constantly be left alone repeatedly. The cycle repeats itself again. He'll come back home and comfort you for leaving you alone for so long, then leave again for a long period of time.

You'd never escape. You had so many insecurities and were so emotionally constipated. Sunday made things worse. He just had to keep you somewhere where he knew he couldn't lose track of you and possibly lose you just like Robin.

You still loved him. You always would. And he in return would offer you the type of love you never got from your actual family, even if it was just for a bit.

To you, he was your beloved older brother no matter what.

#honkai star rail #sunday x reader #sunday hsr #found family trope gone wrong #platonic relationships

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tommykinard6 · 2 days

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Okay so Tommy is happy to guide Buck in his first boyfriend relationship. He takes the reigns, wanting to give Buck the full experience in his tough guy gay firefighter sort of way. He wants to woo and romance Buck so bad. But THEN Buck discovers little things that make Tommy all flustered and caught off guard and he becomes obsessed with making Tommy blush as much as he makes Buck.

Oh absolutely!

Buck would probably be feeling a little off balance-not necessarily in a bad way-with Tommy taking the reins. He’d be ok with it. He’s also been a quick study. However, he becomes obsessed when he nibbles on Tommy’s neck and the man is redder than a tomato. He devotes himself into finding what else makes his boyfriend tick.

He discovers that Tommy has never had flowers given to him before and surprises him with a huge bouquet at home. But if that isn’t enough, he adds a small flower to the bag every time he brings lunch to Tommy. The man flushes every time.

He discovers that Tommy loves being the little spoon and Buck is just big enough to make him feel small. And the man goes oh so red when Buck is able to casually pick him up.

He stocks Tommy’s favorite snacks and pre-orders the next movie in his favorite series and sets up dates under the stars and on a picnic blanket. Because Tommy, for all his tough exterior, is a romantic and wants his happily ever after.

With Evan.

#911 abc #911 show #9-1-1 #tommy kinard #bucktommy #evan buckley #lou ferrigno jr #911 season 7 #tk6 answers #tk6 writes

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maikissed · 2 days

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and the day after that, and day after that part 2

jude bellingham x reader there's a bit of sexy times, so.. Jude likes them older so I here’s a part 2, what can I say...

Your stance awkward and stiff as you observed your surroundings, your gaze stopping a few times to glance in Jude’s direction. He didn’t seem much concerned or reserved regarding last night events and it filled you with such ire, that his confessions turned to be your burden to solve. Giving the impression as he’s been freed after voicing his decision, if u could call it that, waiting for you to make yours. As if there was any decision to make. You never wanted to make one. Your heart turned heavier at the thought of it alone, because every solution you considered in the morning seemed difficult. It was foolish. Would you break his heart? Could you? Something was telling you that he was not going to let you, and that was what frustrated you the most.

This whole day you’ve been very attentive and observant, and the revelations of many conclusions that hit you afterwards were astounding. He’s been benevolent, and caring, starting with the mug of warm lemon water waiting at you at the breakfast table. It’s been the fifth time that he prepared you your morning drink exactly the way you made it, but it’s been the first time you noticed that he remembered perfectly. He just shrugged it off. Simple gesture, with such new meaning suddenly. And then, twenty minutes later when Mia asked you if you’re willing to join her for swim, he nonchalantly stated the most obvious thing: “It’s only nine Mia, she’s not stepping one foot in the morning sun cause it’s too harsh”. He’s known you your whole life, of course he was aware of your habits and tendencies, but it struck you like a bullet after you realised not many people around you were so considerate. He’s always been close, always your favourite person to be around. He paid attention to every little thing there could be, that you preferred cauliflower over broccoli, the opinion that milk is for calves and not humans and it’s absolutely useless for our system, therefore you never drink it, so he always went on a hunt for a proper substitute for you. Even your brother frowned after you rejected the lactose free one in your coffee. Next, he remembered that you hate musicals, too big pillows to sleep on and creased, not ironed clothes. All of it, messing with your head the whole day, you we’re fuming. You swore something in your brain started to malfunction.

And it felt like bricks falling over your head when you caught yourself analysing his current encounter with a long-legged blond near the bar. What was it today? A nutter day? You took a big gulp of your sour drink.

“What is it with you today?” Mia slumped next to you on the settee “You’ve been having your little stuffy face on the whole day. Or is it the daiquiri?” she clicked her long nail on your glass.

“Don’t know, think I ate something bad” you murmured.

“You’ve barely eaten today” she snorted.

You sent her a sharp look.

“Maybe that’s it”

The eye roll she made at your answer did not slip your attention. Giving her a proper look you could tell your friend had already had one too many, as her accent turned heavier and her hair a little messier. She was a yapper when she was drunk, that’s for sure. She will not make this evening easy for you. And you’ve already been on pins and needles.

“You need a shag” she pointed out making you roll your eyes this time.

Well, we have an expert.

“I’ve had plenty just few days ago”

“From what I’ve heard, from you of course may I add, Alex’s not really living up to the expectations” she giggled quite proud of her valuable notice.

“He’s alright!” you fought back.

“Look around you! Maybe it’s time to taste something new”

Before you could really process what Mia’s intentions were, she suddenly stood up and your eyes widened, observing her wobbly stance, expecting the unexpected.

“Attention everybody!” she shouted and you froze, your eyes glued to her bright face “My gorgeous friend here needs a proper shag!” she accented the last word.

“Mia!” you gasped trying to grasp her arm to make her sit down because clearly, that was not very wise of her. Outrageous!

Many faces gathered on the terrace obviously turned your way to find the source of this blatant declaration. Your face probably beet root at the moment. What a night.

“She’s quite a treat, as you can see” she twirled to take a look down at you “Any possible suitors please report to me first!”

You could hear someone laugh in the distance and you flinched knowing for sure, that every hotel guest will definitely gawk at you for the rest of your stay.

You gaped at your petite friend with open mouth. Words blocked in your throat.

“Now, we wait and see” she sang sitting down and kissing your cheek in the process.

“There’s a special place for you in this world” you hissed “You should start rubbing dirt on yourself”

“Oh, death threats?!” she just laughed it off.

There was a movement on your side and you prepared yourself for the worst, turning your eyes up to spot Jude with an amused expression painted on his face. Oh, he loved that.

“Dance with me?” that was all that left his lips and you frowned, gazing at his palm extended to you.

“And we have the first candidate!” Mia chirped.

“Now I have to keep an eye on her, thanks to your little announcement, Mia”

You saw her sending him a small wink.

“I accept your application, Bellingham”

And as you had enough of this not very enjoyable to you situation, you stood up abruptly, taking the boy’s hand, letting him lead you near the dancing couples. The song was too slow for your liking. You lost the sense of your own body as he placed your palm on his shoulder, the other gripped lightly in his left hand.

“You’re wearing the necklace” he observed, his voice startling you a little since you were immensely focused on his fingers displayed on your bare back.

Big, almost covering it from side to side.

His comment made you remember that you indeed wore the delicate necklace he gifted you for your 24th birthday. White gold, because he knew you adored it. You never wore it on a daily basis because you found it too precious. And that he knew as well.

“What’s the occasion?”

“Well, obviously not because I’m being presented as an escort for tonight”

He laughed at your comment and you smiled at the sound of it.

“I wore it as a totem” you started after a few moments, your hand on his shoulder twitched uncontrollably “Of my undying… love and devotion for you, Jude” you watched his features turning serious. Dark, sparkling eyes boring into yours. “All of it, strictly platonic” you specified.

A soft smirk flashing before your eyes when he spun you around, pressing you much closer to him as you faced him again. Warm flesh, hard lines of his body, close.

“I am patient” he murmured quietly.

And you felt the vibration from his words on your skin! You realised you kept your mouth slightly agape. What an arrogant, self-assured little bastard. Making this hundred times more difficult for you than you expected. What will it take for you to put up this fight?

“My father once told me” he continued, taking advantage of a lack of response from you “That if you find a person that makes your heart serene, your head calm and your body light, it means you’re home. I have this and more when I’m with you, all I’m asking for is one chance”.

You remembered the boy, always around, not as loud as your brother, gentle, considerate, the boy who used to fix your bike when your brakes started to screech or share his last sour bubble gum with you because it was your favourite. The boy who held out his hand for you when you were jumping over the fences in your neighbourhood, the first boy who called you beautiful when you wore your awkward little baby blue dress at the end of the sixth school year. He resembled him so much now, in this moment. With his eyes big and shiny, honest, sincere.

You didn’t know but minutes has passed as you reminisced, taking in the sight of his face, changed over all those years, yet eyes still the same, always. You were still rocking gently into the music but all you could hear now was slow breaths of his and yours, felt the beating of your hearts inside your ribs that were touching. The rhythm was steady, synchronised. Serene. You stopped.

Taking a step back you still held his hand with yours and there was a glimpse of something close to dismay appearing all so sudden on his expression. For the first time. There it was, you could end it now. Finally the doubt showed it’s way to the surface and it was enough. With a heart on his sleeve he confessed. And you had the tool to became the executioner. But you didn’t let go of his hand and said nothing nonetheless, just took another step back wanting him to follow. Blood pumping in your veins as you wondered what exactly were you going to do? Maybe say? But you knew what you wanted to do, you just considered if you should. Not wanting to wait too long, you didn’t head to the stairs leading to your rooms as you planned at first, instead taking a turn to the small café near the lobby, empty now at this hour, with lights low.

You faced him again, slowly placing one of your hands on his neck, the other reaching for his cheek, your thumb grazing the skin there. He pulled you closer to him, his arm fully wrapped around your middle. You sighted. After counting three steady breaths you leaned in, realising you had to stand on your toes just a little to reach him right but he lowered his head to make you both comfortable. The soft touch didn’t turn into the kiss instantly, you gently swayed making the impression of leaning back again but you quickly realised you turned a bit dizzy. It was pleasant. So when you brought your lips back to his, you finally kissed him properly and he put the perfect pressure to it in response. Nothing about it was weird, as you considered for a second before making a move. A first kiss, yet felt very natural. Like it was promised. Like it simply waited for it’s right moment. Moving your hands further up, locking them behind his head you deepened the kiss, intensifying the movement of your lips against each other and there was a moment of your lips parting just a bit more, that he took advantage of, his tongue meeting yours in a stunning flick, making you let out a timid moan. Unwise. He pushed you back gently, your bum meeting with the edge of one of the tables around. You leaned back when he sped up, the kiss heating up and your heart skipped a bit. He took notice of a gentle push of your palm on his chest, breaking the contact.

“Don’t think too much, just feel me” he whispered against your lips.

He said it to simply comfort you but it sounded so sexy you could feel tingles spreading over every inch of your skin. You refused to open your eyes at first, but when you did (a mistake) you almost choked with your own breath at the sight of him. Towering over you, close, his palm on your cheek, the other hand gripping your hip. Oh, you’ve been so foolish.

And you kissed him again, the contact more firm, closeness more certain, you could feel your breath speeding up. You were practically sitting on the surface of the table right now. Another moan leaving your throat as you could feel him sliding in between your legs, your dress hiking up a little and you were inviting him, lewdly parting your thighs.

“Jude” you breathed pulling away “We should stop there”

He looked absolutely enchanting with his pretty eyes shining in the gentle lights around you. And you didn’t move or pushed him away, so he leaned in, brushing his lips on your neck, under your ear, going lower. The warmth and wetness of his tongue on this delicate skin made you loose your composure once again and you grasped his nape closing your eyes. It was way more than just a simple contact of two excited people. You felt drugged, ecstatic, freed.

“Stop” you whispered, not very convincingly but he stopped still.

You kind of regretted it.

“I might die if you stop me right there” he rasped.

“Bit dramatic” you smiled even though you felt like agreeing.

“I’m serious” he pecked your lips to kiss you again but you turned your head away.

“Let’s go upstairs”

“To have sex?” he whispered the question into your ear, spreading goose bumps all over your neck.

You laughed.

“To talk”

#football imagine #football fics #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham #bellingham x reader #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham fic #jude bellingham x reader

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pandoraslxna · 13 hours

Note

📝 neteyam + human reader with an age gap!!

Olo’eyktan Neteyam x female human reader, minors dni 🔞

The olo’eyktan has long suspected, the clothes of his people would suit you well.

You’re a vision bought to him by eywa herself when you emerge from the other room. Such a young, naive thing, with the most fetching, delicate blush creeping across your cheeks. There's so much to take in, Neteyam thinks his eyes might pop out of his head.

Those smooth, young, perfect legs peeking out from under the tiny little loincloth make him swallow the salvia that’s pooling in his mouth, but the sight of your barely covered chest is even better. Just a few feathers, woven together like a necklace, are covering your firm breasts and Neteyam has to hold back to reach out and touch them, hold them in his palm.

"You’re staring," you mumble quietly, biting a perfectly plump lower lip. "This is so embarrassing…" Great mother, you’re too precious.

"You look perfect, like a beautiful little doll," he assures you and your brows furrow, wondering how he would know what a doll even looks like. "Better than any na’vi woman."

You can’t help but snort and roll your eyes at that, because you know it’s not true.

"Now now," he says with a chuckle, "Aren't you being a little ungrateful? You shouldn’t roll your eyes at your olo’eyktan. Especially not, after you’ve just received a gift."

Neteyam tips your chin up with a finger and you feel yourself crumbling under the intense gaze of his golden orbs. "S-Sorry", you manage to force out. "Sorry, sir", you add quickly.

"I'm offended," Neteyam sighs, but the fainted smile is gazing his lips, telling you, that is is all part of the game. "You'd better make it up to me, little tawtute [human]."

And what a perfect little doll you make, surely, when you get down onto your knees and, oh great mother, he's already half-stacked just from the blush in your cheeks and those big doe eyes staring up at him. There's hesitance right before you gives kittenish licks over his rapidly stiffening cock. Neteyam groans, lays it all out over those wonderful soft lips.

"Sir, I, what if… what if I make them dirty?" You stammer, glancing down at the neatlywoven fabric of your loincloth, specifically made to fit your much smaller physique.

"Then you'd better not spill any, paskalin [honey]," he purrs, mapping the outline of your lips with his smooth tip.

And then he pushes forward, urging you to open your mouth and start to suck. What a perfect little angel in those perfect little clothes, he thinks with a grin. You do your very best not to choke on his cock, but it’s especially hard given the difference in size between the both of you. His tip is already in your throat, but he’s not even halfway inside you yet.

Still, you’re genuinely concerned about spoiling his gift, and so, when Neteyam releases (quickly, too fucking quickly when his young tawtute toy was working her magic like that), you swallow it with the most adorable little gulping sound.

#lunas10kfollowercelebration #avatar the way of water #avatar #avatar 2 #atwow #neteyam #neteyam sully #neteyam x female reader #neteyam x reader smut #neteyam avatar #atwow neteyam #avatar neteyam #neteyam fanfiction #neteyam smut #neteyam x human reader #neteyam x female reader smut #neteyam x reader #neteyam x you

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pharawee · 2 days

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Just some random thoughts on yesterday's Pit Babe 2 announcement because I keep seeing some theories floating around (really interesting theories, mind you!) on how Way and Tony could or couldn't still be alive and...

Apart from the fact that this is Thai drama and they don't really need a reason to still be alive beyond the fact that (much like Emperor Palpatine) somehow they've returned, the show itself has also given us plenty of possible canon reasons for what could have happened if we take the announcement trailer at face value:

That drug Babe's father used on Charlie could also have been used on Way.

Everyone was far too upset and distracted to check if Way was really dead. They didn't even administer first aid. For all we know Way could have felt like going for a walk five minutes after everyone left.

Fancy enigma powers (it's over for all of us if he ever learns to do mass-hypnosis).

Way has returned as Way the White.

As for Tony, he's rich and evil and eternally scheming so he totally could have planned for this. I could even see him using Kenta as part of his contigency plan - and playing dead is the perfect sleight of hand. If you want to get really dark, I don't think Kenta would have been in any position to refuse if Tony had roped him into at least somewhat taking the fall for him (granted, he did look surprised by whoever got them all out of prison but it could have been surprise at Tony actually returning for him). It would even add to that penultimate scene of him accepting his role as Tony's dog. One very satisfying stabbing indident doesn't really change the fact that, dead or alive, Tony will always have some degree of influence over him - especially if there's no one left to give him guidance (and Lord knows Dean and Winner can't even find their way out of a clown car).

Besides, neither Pete nor X-Hunter (seemingly) standing up for him (and that after they all gave him so much encouragement in season 1) and leaving him to rot in prison with Winner and Dean (I'm kind of taking that personally) actually somewhat confirms his skewed worldview of Tony being an inescapable reality.

And much like Kenta himself, I'm also still not over PeteKenta so I wonder how and if that will factor into everything - especially since with Way (presumably) still alive Pete again has the choice between two poor little meow-meows who are (un?)willingly trapped on the wrong side of things. Because he will try to save them both. It's just who he is (but yes, I'm also here for PeteWay so I don't mind either way; all I know is that the angst will be delicious).

I'm also just really excited for the baddie squad in general. We have Dean who's pragmatic and ambitious (and looking really good while doing his evil little thing), Winner who's making squeaky clown shoe noises wherever he goes (I know this and I love him) and Kenta who's tragically stuck with both of them. Those are some A+++ dynamics and I already love this team-up so much. I'd watch a whole series with just these three.

Then there's the possibility of the whole announcement trailer being one big sleight of hand and maybe KentaDeanWinner (don't mind if I do) aren't evil at all but more of a Suicide Squad kind of thing (again, would watch). They could be working for Pete (and the thought of Pete possibly having read Winner's mind and still deciding to hire him is incredibly funny to me).

Anyway, I want everyone to be still alive because imagine the shenanigans! The absolute high jinks! The angst! The possibilities are endless!!

#pit babe 2 #pit babe the series #pit babe #jane watches stuff #will i ever write serious meta?#probably not #that's just the winner in me #never mind me i'm just so excited and i have so many thoughts #and i need a place to sort them

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elisysd · 2 days

Text

12. Don't give me up, cause what about, what about angels

Masterlist - Previously - Next

Chapter soundtrack: What About Angels - Birdy

Charles saw you tensing after your mother’s cold greeting. He hated how you flinched as she was reminding you that being late was disrespectful towards your dad’s special day, that being away from home and in a big city had made you lose sight of the values they had taught you. But he hated even more how you simply smiled and apologized. He needed all his self control to not take your side, he knew how anxious this whole situation was making you feel, he didn’t want to make it worse by saying something he knew wouldn’t be well received.

The first thing he noticed in the house’s hall was the amount of family pictures, but instead of four people on them were only three. He recognised your mom, assumed the man beside her was your dad and when he thought he would notice you, it was instead your little brother. He couldn't be wrong, he looked exactly like you. The pictures were cut in a certain way that didn’t take him a long time to understand that you had been cut out of them. He felt a wave of rage hitting him. Why make you come here if your parents had gone to such an extent as to erase every trace of your existence? It was a twisted joke.

“You don’t even call anymore, Y/N. I knew it would happen, I’ve always said that being in a world full of sparks and empty promises would change you. You’re too gullible. You don’t even have time for your own family anymore. Not that you ever had.”

“You’ve never tried to ask questions about my job…” you mumbled as Charles put a comforting hand on your hip.

“I don’t need to. I know exactly what you do, you’re the talk of the town. The small town girl made it to the TV. There is no reason to be proud, playing a pretty face on tv… that is not what I raised you to be. And now you’re associating yourself with fair-weather friends…” she said, darting judgmental eyes on Charles. “I know exactly who you are.”

He didn’t have the time to reply as your dad entered the room and sat on the chair without a word. You sat too, Charles close to you as your mom joined your dad’s side.

“How nice it is to finally see you alive.” he said, making you gulp.

“I’m Charles, your daughter’s boyfriend. Nice to meet you.” he introduced himself in a desperate attempt to drive the conversation away from you and the relieved sigh you let out made him think that you appreciated it.

Lunch was awkward, punctuated with snarky comments here and there that you tried your best to ignore. Charles was trying to do the same but it was getting harder and harder for him to keep his calm. But it was when cake was brought that resentment and unspoken words finally came out in the open. You had taken your phone out of your pocket, wanting to show your parents all the beautiful landscapes you had the chance to witness.

“Aren’t you ashamed?” your mom muttered.

“Why?” you turned your head to look at her in disbelief.

“Ashamed of following the sport that killed your brother. Ashamed of being with the man responsible for his death.” she sternly said.

You felt like a million daggers stabbing your heart all at once. You took a deep breath, putting your hand on his thigh, squeezing it lightly to indicate to him not to react. It was something you had to do alone.

“F1 and Charles didn’t kill Luc, it was his leukemia, not anything else.” you replied, feeling a lump in your throat.

“If you had not introduced your brother to that stupid sport, he wouldn’t have been a fan and his illness wouldn't have turned that bad so quickly. He wasn’t talking about anything else than that sport and you. Until his very last breath. His last words were about Formula 1. It took my baby away from me and this is your fault. Both of you.” she finished, turning to Charles this time.

“If I can add something… I know I have no right to comment on this situation but even if I understand your pain, Y/N is not the one to blame. She…” Charles started, quickly shutted up by your dad.

“You’re right, you have no right to say a thing. You don’t know what it is like to lose a son.”

“Maybe I don’t, yeah. But I know exactly what it feels like to lose a parent. I understand your pain. Truly. But with all due respect, you’ve already lost a son, you should be more careful to not lose a daughter by pushing her away and making her feel like a stranger in her own family.”

“We’ve already lost her the minute she decided to not show up at the funeral.” your mom spitted, making you close your eyes, trying to not cry. You wouldn’t give that pleasure to your parents.

“I think it’s best if we leave. It was a bad idea to come here, anyway.” you ended up saying, standing up, Charles following you. “You shouldn’t have invited me in the first place, if it was to treat me that way.”

You took Charles’ hand in yours and dragged him out of what had been once your safe place. Without a word you made your way to his car and rushed inside and it was only when the door was closed and that he had taken place behind the wheel that you broke down. He didn’t hesitate to pull you on his lap and let you cry on his shoulder, holding you tight.

“It’s okay, babe… you’re okay. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. You don’t have to feel bad, you have nothing to feel bad about. If you were believing your mom’s lies, I understand why you were so mean to me at the beginning now.”

“She is not entirely wrong, you know.” you sniffed in his neck. “At least about one thing, I should’ve been there for Luc’s funeral. But it was too hard for me. I didn’t want to face the fact that I would never see him again. I didn’t want to make the nightmare I was in real. because if I was going, it would happen exactly that. It would have made the pain real and permanent. I couldn’t.”

You put your forehead against his, trying to find a way to ground you. Charles drew small patterns on your hips, comforting you the best he could.

“Let’s get some fresh air, okay?” he whispered against your ear.

You got out of the car and hand in hand you started to wander the streets of your childhood, telling him anecdotes and facts of any buildings and streets you were walking on and seeing.

“Tell me about Luc.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Everything. Whatever you want. Whatever you feel comfortable sharing with me.”

“He was passionate. About many things. History and art mostly. He wanted to work in a museum. And passionate about F1 of course. He knew a lot of mechanical stuff, more than I did. He taught me as much as I did, I swear. Maybe more. I was spending my weekends at the hospital with him to watch the races. When he was hospitalized, it was what kept him going. It was our thing, you know. Wait, I think I have a picture to show you.”

She took a photo out of her wallet and gave it to him. If he didn’t know it was a hospital room, he would have had a hard time guessing it. Everywhere were Ferrari and monegasque flags as well as a lot of merch. He was recognising one of his caps on the bedside table. Posters of his podiums were hung on the walls, his Monza’s win right above Luc’s head. Small replicas of his trophies were there too as well as miniatures of his helmets.

“A real fan.” he smiled.

“The best.” you sighed. “ You don’t know how happy he was when you won in Monza. It brought so much joy in his life. Even if it wasn’t for long. It was a tough time, he had just started to get hospitalized, he was very sick and pale and the shell of what he once was. And suddenly, he was feeling a little more alive. Because of you. Then, time went by and I had to leave for New York. It was the toughest decision I had to make in my life. At some point I was ready to take a year off so I could be with him…”

“What made you change your mind?”

“Him. With time my dream became his. He wouldn’t have forgiven me if I was giving it all up because he was sick. He was talking about how amazing it would be if I was interviewing you. I bet he is the happiest up there.” you smiled, looking up. “One of his dreams was to meet you.”

“Maybe it is not too late?” Charles hesitantly said and you looked at him curiously. “Is he buried here?”

You nodded and he felt you stiffened.

“I've never been on his grave.” you confessed after a moment of silence. “It’s too hard and too painful to go there alone.”

“Good thing you’re not alone anymore, then.”

As you were making your way to the graveyard, Charles had to hold you closer to his chest with each step you were taking. You sobs were getting louder and your legs were shakier. It was breaking his heart, trying to see how much you were trying to keep it together.

When you finally reached the grave, at the back end of the graveyard, you fell on your knees in front of the black grave. Luc hated black. A black and white picture of him was also in the middle of the gravestone. It made you shiver. It was well kept, your parents were coming often. The lump in your throat had not gone away in the slightest, it was even bigger now, making you choke up on your own saliva. Charles wanted to hold you, wanted to get you out of here. The emotional devastation you were in was making him want to join you on the ground and cry with you. But he also knew you needed it. It was the closure you needed to move forward. He took a few steps away, giving you privacy.

“I’m so sorry, Luc. So sorry. Sorry about how I wasn’t there for you when you needed me most, sorry to have let you down, sorry to not have stepped up and measured up when I should have, sorry to not have been the sister you deserved. There is not a day that goes by when I don’t regret not being by your side. There are so many things that I should have done differently, so many things that I feel guilty about but none of them compare to how guilty I feel to not have said goodbye. I acted like a coward and I know how much you felt scared about dying. And how I promised you I would hold your hand until the end. I didn’t. I chickened out and I failed you. If I could go back in time, I would, just so I could look into your eyes one last time and hold your hand tight. I wouldn’t hesitate. I would trade anything for one last smile of yours. I hope you can forgive me, I sure can’t do that alone. But despite everything I’m happy and I’m not sure I should be. I fell in love and you would be ecstatic to know who I share my life with. He is supportive and kind and perfect for me. I wish we would have had enough time so you could have met him. But maybe after all, it’s you I should thank. Maybe it’s you who sent Charles on my way. Maybe it is your way of telling me that you are not mad at me. That you want me to be happy. If only you could give me a sign. I just want you to know that everything I do, I do it for you. Because I love you. Forever.”

You felt Charles’ arms around your shoulders as he crouched down beside you.

“Hey, Luc. I know we don’t know each other but your sister talks about you so much that I feel like I already know you. I would have loved to meet you, I know how big of a fan you are of F1. I would have loved to show you around the paddock, maybe I would have let you sit in my car. Anything to make you and your sister smile. You are brave and strong and I have nothing but pure admiration for you. I wish I could have met you. Don’t worry about your sister, I take good care of her and I don’t want to let go of her. I’m here for her for as long as she lets me but I hope it is a forever kind of thing.” he whispered as you looked at him with big and glossy eyes.

He helped you stand up, asked if you were alright and if you wanted to leave. He didn’t mind staying but he wanted to make sure you were alright, the day had been emotionally draining enough. When you nodded, he took you in his arms, engulfing you in his jacket so you weren’t cold and kissed the top of your head as you headed out.

“I’m so proud of you. So proud.” he said as you finally reached his car.

“Thank you. For being there. I don’t think I would have been able to do it alone.”

“You’re the strongest person I know. You would have done it at some point.”

“Did you mean it? What you said up there… About us being forever.” you shyly asked.

“I’m sorry it was not the best time to say it. But to answer you, I do. I’m not kidding, Y/N, I swear I can’t explain it. I don’t know how either but I just know. You’re the love of my life.”

Author's note: In laws meeting incoming... how do you think it will turn out? .

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fluentmoviequoter · 3 days

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Constant Faith and the Life it Brings

Part 2 of Constant Faith | Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!worship pastor!reader

Summary: After your church is robbed, Tim learns how you got into faith and helps you learn to share your story.

Warnings: mentions of armed robbery and past arrests, basically a testimony based on the request, fluff and comfort

Word Count: 1.8k+ words

A/N: I loved writing this!! The worship pastor!r dynamic is right up my alley and I definitely sprinkled little parts of my own testimony and time in church in here.😊

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

The days following the robbery are strange, but you believe in promises and know that God and Tim keep them. As Tim helps the robbery unit work the case, you meet with different church members to pray together.

When Sunday rolls around, and the sanctuary is still treated as an active crime scene, your pastor welcomes everyone into his home for service and fellowship. You lead worship as usual, but hearing all the voices mixing and praising God together, trusting that He has the situation in His hand and would use it for His purpose, is a unique and beautiful experience. One you wouldn’t have had without a walk through the valley of the shadow, you think as you finish a song.

As you go home Sunday afternoon, you think about everything that has led you to this exact moment in your life and your faith. There are parts of your testimony you don’t like sharing with just anyone, not because you doubt what God has done for you or want to keep His message to yourself, but because it brings up memories that remind you of a painful time. Living through an armed robbery and experiencing how much your church family loves and cares for one another, however, gives you strength and encouragement that your story could help others who are in similar circumstances. That inherent need to help others who are hurting, to be there for them, is precisely what led you to become a therapist when you’re not singing at church.

Tuesday morning, your pastor sends out a video message with excellent news. He tells you and the rest of the church members that the offering collected on Sunday not only met their usual numbers but replenished the money that had been stolen. You’re unsure if God encouraged everyone to give a bit more and support His house or if one generous donor knew what had happened. Regardless, the church isn’t in fiscal danger, which is great but not the best part.

“The L.A.P.D. contacted me this morning to inform me that the thieves were apprehended and offered a full confession,” he adds. “In addition, they have recovered everything stolen from the safe and it will be returned to us in due time. Now if that isn’t proof that our God still works miracles, I don’t know what is!”

“I think that was the best run-through we’ve had in weeks!” Jerry applauds. “Not that they’re usually bad, you know.”

“We do,” you promise with a smile. “But, I agree, that was great! We’re back in the sanctuary Sunday, so let’s have a great service and welcome everyone back into church.”

You watch the worship team gather their things and leave, but you look up at the empty cross on the wall. Your Bible is lying with your things, and you squat to pick it up as Jerry exits the audio booth.

“You alright?” he asks softly.

“Yeah, I’m good. I think I’m just…”

“I understand. You’ve got keys, so take your time. We’re all here if you need us.”

You nod your thanks and wait until he leaves to sit in the front pew. Holding your Bible in your lap, you close your eyes and begin praying. You thank God for everything, including Tim, and you pray for him, too. He’s a big part of your life, even if he doesn’t know how much he’s done for you.

“Can I help you, Officer?” Jerry asks as he exits the church. “Or are you here on personal business?”

Tim is waiting beside his truck, dressed in his patrol uniform. He looks up when Jerry exits, and Jerry hides a smile at Tim’s disappointed look. Most of your church family knows about Tim, and Jerry knows who the officer before him is and what – or who – he’s there for.

“Just waiting for her,” Tim says.

“She’s in the sanctuary; may be a few minutes. You’re welcome to go in if you’d like.”

Tim looks over Jerry’s shoulder to the door and nods. He thanks Jerry and watches him walk away. You’re more at home here than anyone else, yet Tim doesn’t feel as if he’s trespassing when he walks through the front door and navigates to the sanctuary entrance.

The pew dips beside you, and you look up from your Bible quickly and see Tim looking at the stage. He doesn’t speak as he joins you, but his hand is stretched toward you.

“Sorry,” you murmur.

Your finger holds your place in the New Testament, the fitting story of Jesus and the “den of thieves.” Tim shakes his head and tells you to take your time. He sits back and closes his eyes. Maybe Tim is praying or giving you the privacy he thinks you need. Either way, you appreciate him and are glad he’s beside you.

“I- thank you for working so hard and catching them,” you begin. “On Sunday, we received enough money from tithing to make up for what was stolen. Between that and the arrest, I should be, I don’t know, jumping for joy or something.”

“But?” Tim presses kindly.

“It reminded me of my past,” you whisper. “And I’ve just been thinking that I can do more- that I should do more.”

“Do more how?”

You look at Tim, and his eyes are already on you. His focus on the here and now is appreciated, but he can’t understand what you mean until you tell him about your past. More than Tim, you can’t do what the Lord is calling you to do without learning to share painful memories.

“I had a really bad childhood; my upbringing, I guess you could say, was rough, Tim. Growing up, I never felt like I belonged or was loved, even in my own house, around people who were supposed to love me and protect me. So, I learned how to look out for myself and provide for myself, but I didn’t always do it right.”

Your eyes drop from Tim’s to look at your Bible instead. Tim keeps his eyes on your face as you speak, and his hand inches closer to your side.

“When those men came in here and demanded to know where the money was… part of why I stayed so calm is because I’ve been that person before. I was behind the gun once and it landed me in juvie at 17. I didn’t know why they charged me as a minor. I didn’t understand anything until I found this.”

You point to your Bible and pause. Tim doesn’t press, though you’re sure he has questions about your previous arrest. Because you went to juvie and were a minor with no prior record, everything was expunged, and most people would never know it happened.

“Someone introduced me to the Bible,” you continue. “I was carrying around so many sins, and they were a burden that never lightened. Initially, I thought it was desperation or boredom, anything other than a need for a Savior. I started reading and it felt like every sentence was written to me specifically. The thief on the cross beside Jesus, the gift of the Holy Spirit, and forgiveness of sins while healing physical infirmities… everything Jesus said and did felt like an invitation. I started praying and I felt that burden start lifting. After I confessed every sin, even the ones no one else knew about, I gave my life to Christ. At that moment, I started praying that God could use me and my past to help others who are hurting.”

You take a deep breath and apologize again. Tim finally moves his hand into yours, and your eyes drift to his.

“That’s what led you to become a therapist? LA’s best grief counselor,” Tim guesses.

You smile and chuckle as you nod.

“You’re good at your job, I’ve always known that. But the fact that you let a situation like that lead you to help others is exceptional. Not many doctors pray for their patients; I’d charge extra for that.”

You push against Tim’s shoulder as your smile grows. “If they’d told me that reading the Bible would lead to having two jobs without facing the price of sin, I wouldn’t have believed them. The worship pastor idea came in later. The day before I was released I read Acts 16. Paul and Silas sing praises in prison, and then there’s an earthquake and the doors are opened. No one leaves, but the jailer sees the doors and prepares to kill himself. Paul and Silas stop him and lead him to repent and be baptized. So, after nights of praying and praising in a cell, I knew I needed to keep doing it.”

Tim has been quiet since the moment he walked in. Though you don’t regret sharing your testimony with him, you begin to worry that he won’t want anything to do with you now. Learning that your girlfriend went to juvie for armed robbery isn’t easy for most people to move on from.

“I understand if you want some time,” you murmur.

Tim’s eyes are still straight ahead. You realize he’s looking at the pulpit in the center of the stage. He squeezes your hand gently, and you take a deep breath. You won't blame him for needing space, but that doesn't mean it won't hurt.

“I had a rough childhood, too. My dad was angry, and he got violent because of that. I actually thought for a while that he killed someone," Tim says.

His voice is rough, but you know why and you're here for him. You lay your other hand over Tim’s and turn to face him. His eyes are still forward, and you understand it can be easier to talk about stuff like this without looking at your audience.

“He was having an affair with a woman who was being abused. She killed her husband and my dad covered for her. That- that moment when he confessed and he seemed like a good man… it went against everything I had ever seen. He was a monster, and everything that I am is despite what my dad did.”

Tim turns toward you, and you see tears gathering in his eyes. It hurts to relive past pains, but your entire life is founded upon a belief that you don’t have to do it alone.

“I don’t want time or space. Your past made you the woman I love, and the strength and love you found during your darkest night… your story is special.”

“I could do more,” you whisper. “I don’t tell enough people.”

“You told me. That’s a start, right?”

You nod and lean your head against Tim’s shoulder. Your Bible folds closed with your movement, and you remember that your unshakeable faith will get you through the hard days to come, and telling your story may allow someone else to see the strength Christ offers.

“You’re amazing,” you say against Tim’s shirt. “Everything that you are, all that you do, shows that your past doesn’t define you.”

Tim turns to kiss your head and wraps an arm around your back.

“Did you come to give me a ride and a hug?” you ask.

“Yes. A ride home and more than one hug.”

#hanna writes✯#tim bradford x reader #tim bradford x fem!reader #tim bradford x y/n #tim bradford x you #tim bradford fic #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford #the rookie abc #fem!reader #requests #christianity

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jelzorz · 3 days

Text

176.

Soren has a dragon that he's had since he was three.

It's one of the few genuinely happy memories he has from his childhood. Most days he struggles to remember any at all—so much of it was posturing and conflict and useless efforts to win his father's pride. It was not the simplest childhood, certainly not the happiest, but Rexy is still in his quarters, and when Soren looks at him, he thinks of games and laughter and the warmth of his mother's arms against the winter cold.

He's still pretty fond of him, even now. He's dusty and old and beat to shit, his left eye loose, his dye faded, and Soren's not going to pretend he doesn't pull him down sometimes to defend him from invisible armies (a perfectly normal twenty-eight year old thing to do, thank you), but Rexy's definitely seen better days too, and Soren thinks of the twins that are supposed to be arriving any day now and thinks it might be time for a little bit of a makeover before Rexy goes back into the fray.

"That's so sweet," chuckles Callum, as he examines the loose stitching at Rexy's ear. "But I gotta be honest, Soren, I dunno that he's gonna make it even if I do fix him. Kids can be really rough."

Soren doesn't doubt it. Callum and Rayla's little girl is barely eighteen months old and she's a terror to anything in the castle smaller than her. "I still think it's worth trying," he says. "If he goes down, he'll go down in battle, and there's no nobler end for a toy."

"True," snorts Callum. He fiddles Rexy's loose eye and tugs it free. Soren tries not to wince. "You've had him forever though. I know he means a lot to you. Are you sure you wanna let your soon-to-be kids tear him up?"

"Mm." Soren shrugs, a little sentimental, a little heartbroken, but resolute all the same. "I don't really have anything else to pass on," he says quietly. "I've been thinking about it for ages, and I—" He huffs. "I just think that Rexy'll watch over them the same way he watched over me. Does that make sense?"

Callum laughs good naturedly and nudges his arm. "Yeah," he says. "I get it." He glances at Soren from the corner of his eye then, and Soren can feel the way Callum studies him, his mentality, his readiness to be a dad. "Are you okay?"

"Mm," says Soren again. This time he shifts uncomfortably, because the thought is terrifying almost more than it is exciting. "I just want to be a better dad than mine was."

Callum smiles and pats his arm. "You've got nothing to worry about there, bud. You're going to be just fine."

"Big assumption," snorts Soren.

"Call it more of an observation," says Callum. "You've done the work. You're always doing the work. That's half the job right there. The rest is just love. Isn't that right, Rexy?"

He raises Rexy then and pitches his voice up an octave. "Don't worry, Soren, I'll keep you in line."

"Good gods."

"Get used to it, man, funny voices are like ten percent of the job."

Soren swats at him, and Callum dodges it only to almost fall out of his chair. "So you'll fix him?"

"I'll do my best," says Callum with a chuckle. Then, more genuinely, he adds, "You're nothing like your dad, Soren. You're going to be fine. Rexy will make sure of it."

Soren barks out a laugh. "I'm sure he will."

(And he does).

#inspired by that one post of Soren and his toy dragon <3 #i also know that callum stitches an antimagic blanky so i imagine he can also fix a plush dragon #also also i specifically did not name the mother of sorens children but if you know you know #(the twins belong to raayllum)#rayllum #(tangentially)#in anticipation

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clubdionysus · 3 days

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[BAD DECISION #2] Park Jimin

warnings: alcohol, clubbing, smut, spanking, protected sex, taken from behind, desk sex, reader is bratty, jimin enjoys it, reader doesn’t finish :(

soundtrack: streets - doja cat, babydoll - ari abdul, sex money feelings die (slowed ver) - lykke li

wc: 3.2k

bd total wc: 540k (on-going)

minors dni | AO3 | series masterlist

You're three Purple Starfuckers deep when Park Jimin first catches your eye. You don't mean to stare, it's just that the way he moves is unlike anything you've ever seen before. There's a sensuality to his hips, a charm to his lips and - fuck it - maybe you do mean to stare. Maybe you want him looking at you too. Assessing. Undressing.

He's in all black. Black slacks, black shirt, black liquid in his cup. No idea what he's drinking, but you're wasted and think you'd quite like to taste it, too.

The thing about Park Jimin is that he's an absolute tool.

He knows he's hot. Knows when people are staring. Knows what to do, when to smile, how to glance over, look in your direction. Look you up. Look you down. Look away. Bite his lip. Returns his gaze. Focus 1...2...3. Look away.

It's a fine art. He mastered it young, and has been using it ever since. Can bed whoever he wants, whenever he wants.

And right now? He wants you.

You're ignorant to the rest of the club as he makes his way towards you. You're hot and clammy, skin a little sticky from sweat and spilt drinks. He doesn't mind. Finds it kind of hot. Likes to imagine that's what you'll look like in his bed too.

There's no real formal introduction - why would there be? He's not after your number; just wants to add to it.

Somewhere between the shitty base and the pressure of his lips on yours, he asks if you want to get out of Dionysus. Says he could do with some fresh air.

Jeongguk doesn't see you leave. A few hours later, he'll watch as Hoseok and Danbi dance around like lunatics to the final song of the evening, but they'll be missing their very own disco ball. It will be a shame, but Jeongguk will chalk it up to nothing of any significance. Will hope you got home safely.

The ride back to Jimin's is quiet.

His hand is on your thigh, and you're thankful to not be kissing him anymore. It's not that you didn't enjoy it - you just find kissing so... personal. So intimate. Fucking? Whatever. No big deal. But kissing? Something about it just puts you on edge.

It also does edge you slightly, but he'll reap that reward later.

"My room's at the far end," he says as he guides you into his apartment. It's dark, and he doesn't bother turning the lights on. No point. "I'm just gonna freshen up quickly. Meet you in there?"

You smile. Say yes. Are pleasantly surprised by a guy who -for once- seems to know he should really wash his hands before getting intimate with a woman. Perhaps you should do the same, but you don't really plan on getting that well acquainted with him.

It's no secret that this is just a hookup. A one-night thing. A craving settler. Frustration reliever.

His bedroom, disappointingly, is as you expect. A little bland, a little minimal. It doesn't excude the same sensuality that he does, but you're sure that when he returns, he'll have enough of that to fill the entire room.

There's a double bed in the centre of the back wall, and by the window, there's a desk. Not much on it. A laptop stand - the laptop of which is on his bed - and some pots full of pens. Books, too. Interior Design Anthologies by the looks of things - which is ironic, given how boring his room is.

You don't waver when you hear the click of Jimin's bedroom door. You smile, back turned to him, toying with the pens on his desk. His blinds are open, moonlight silhouetting you. The glow of silver satin makes you look ehteral; other wordly. If he wasn't tipsy, he'd admire it. Admire you.

Jimin's silent as he walks to meet you, the tips of his fingers sinking onto the satin above the flesh of your hips. The rigid metal of his rings against the smooth material of your dress is lethal. Has you thinking of all the little deaths you'd like to have.

He doesn't pull you back towards him. Instead, he draws himself closer to you, until his crotch rests against your ass. It's his belt buckle you feel first. His hardening cock, second.

Lips tender and plump, they trail down your neck, leaving a trail of his saliva. The cool air hits against it, the sensation giving you goosebumps - or maybe it's just him. You find yourself gasping, leaning into his touch.

You ignore him - or at least you try to - still tinkering with things on his desk. Disinterest turns him on a little. You're playing him well. Getting him right where you want him.

When he reaches your ear, his teeth graze against your lobe. "Stop playing with my pens, gorgeous. Need them for work."

You smile, wrapping your fingers around one of them. It's a fineliner, 0.3 nib. Nothing remarkable. You have the same brand in the art cafe you work at. His hand immediately reaches for it. Wraps around yours.

"Uh-uh," he hums. Removes the pen from you grasp and puts it back in it's holder. "That's my favourite. Can't lose it."

There's a pout on your lips. A soft moan escapes. Pretty, he thinks. "I like having my hands full."

Jimin's teeth graze your neck. Bite down. He sucks gently as a kiss is pressed to your skin. He's leaving a mark, and both of you damn well know it.

His hips push against your ass. You're trapped between him and the desk, his bulge undeniable. Has you wanting to bend over. You half think you might.

And then he whispers in your ear, "I think I have something you can fill them with instead."

He feels your ass move against him, the satin of your dress riding up ever so slightly. The hand of his that had put the pen back finds a new home: the top of your thigh beneath your dress. He pulls you back against him. Presses his stiff crotch to your ass slowly. Withdraws. Repeats. Slow. Deep.

You smirk. "I'd rather you fill something else."

There's a tenderness to the way Jimin pushes the skirt of your dress over your ass. Your underwear is black; lace, barely there. His finger hooks beneath the top of the waistband and slowly pulls it tight, the material taut against your soaked core making you gasp.

His other hand drops to your ass cheek. Grapples. Strokes. "Ask nicely."

You're whining a little from the friction he's still controlling. Your hips roll a little as your body sinks to lay flat against his desk, arms outstretched above your head. The tips of your fingers can reach his window. It's steamy. Covered in condensation.

Your silence is noticed.

You ask for nothing, for you're after a very specific something and - fuck - Park Jimin knows how to deliver. His hand pulls away from your ass, meeting it again with a sharp crack. It stings. Makes you gasp, but he can hear the satisfaction in your throat. Knows it's what you wanted.

"I told you to ask nicely," he reminds you, voice soft as he strokes against your ass again.

You don't. Instead, you repeat your movements. Slow, and languid, Jimin's trying his hardest not to just pull his cock out and start fucking you like he so desperately wants to.

But you're being a fucking tease, and he's not one to give into power dynamics all that easily.

And so his hand meets your ass again, the tips of his fingers digging in where they meet your skin.

"Fuck."

"Not the right answer," he tells you, spanking again, a little harder this time. Your hips are rolling so desperately that Jimin thinks it would be kind to put you out of your misery - but he also knows you can do it yourself.

You know exactly the right thing to say to get his cock pushing into you.

And yet you don't.

You enjoy this too much. Enjoy that he'll be the one begging soon.

It comes quicker than you expect - three more spanks, to be precise. Jimin's so hard he think he might cum in his fucking pants if this goes on for much longer.

His fingers sink into your hot core as he says, "Gotta fuck you, gorgeous. Gotta- uh, fuck. So fuckin' wet, aren't you? I made you this needy?"

Why the fuck he thinks you'll give him the answer he wants is beyond him.

You like a challenge far too much.

"Me? Wet? Baby, this is nothing," you tell him.

And just like that, it's all on your terms. He wants to prove himself. If this is nothing (it's not, you're soaked), then he wants everything.

You're in control of it all; the way Jimin can't control himself, the way he asks to fuck you raw but you insist on a condom, the way he pushes his thick cock into you so slowly that you can't help but whine. It's all orchestrated by you.

You think it's cute that he thought he had authority for a little bit. He still does as he thrusts his hips against you, the sound of skin slapping together echoing around the room. His cock burns and cools in the same stroke; filling you, and then leaving you empty. He's got a good pace. A good rhythm. Enough to have you moaning.

"Take me so well," he husks, before letting his palm crack against your ass again. You whine, and so he does it once more.

Again, very cute that he thinks he's in control.

You're whining cause you know it means he'll just do it again. And he does, and -fuck- you're close. He really had edged you with his teasing. His hand wraps around your ponytail, pulling your torso up. It's arched, and fuck if it isn't the sexiest thing Jimin's ever seen.

"You're gonna make me cum, gorgeous," he groans. "Gonna make- Oh fuck. You feel so fucking good."

It's been a while since you last felt like playing the role of a cum slut, but the idea of him spilling himself onto you has you mewling. You want it. Have missed feeling used like this.

Hoseok isn't the only one who's recently been through a change in relationship status; you're just dealing with it a hell of a lot better.

Or at least you're telling yourself you are.

"On my back," you tell him - and he needs no further instructions. He fucks himself into you - fast, frantic, fraught - until he's grunting. He pulls out, tears the condom from his leaky cock and wanks himself all over your spine. His cum is warm against your skin, his body shaking from his release. Thick. Well placed.

Credit where it's due, you think. He's got a great pull-out game. Makes sense, considering how much he'd pleaded to fuck you raw. Must have had a lot of practice.

"You fucking loved that," he tells you, spanking your ass one final time, and it makes you laugh. He's cocky, and it suits him well, but it still amazes you that he thinks he was in control.

"Just what I needed," you flirt regardless. You'll give him the ego boost. It's not like you actually came, but it was enough to satisfy a craving. "Appreciate it."

"Pleasures all mine," he smirks as he reaches for the tissues by his bed. If he were truly a gent, he'd clean it up himself. The angle is awkward for you, twisting uncomfortably to reach it. Fuck knows if you get it all. He pulls off his shirt and begins to actually undress himself, now. "You're welcome to stay."

It's a nice offer. Not one that you'll accept. The idea of snuggling up with a stranger makes your skin crawl. "Can I just charge for my phone for a bit? I'll order a taxi back to mine."

Jimin shrugs. He doesn't give a shit if you stay or go, but he does enjoy post fuck intimacy. Whenever Jimin discusses his hookups with his housemate, they're always confused.

They hate post fuck intimacy with strangers. Just like you. They like to shower; get the feeling of filth off of themselves.

Jimin isn't like that. He revels in it. Thinks it's the most humane feeling in the world. What we were built to do.

He yawns, clearly wiped out from the alcohol and mumbles something about 'wake me if you need me' - and then he's dozing off. You haven't even found his charger yet.

The clock on his desk reads 5:07 in the morning. You really do just want to go home. Get a couple hours sleep in. You're working the afternoon shift in the cafe today, so you'll be fine, but you'd still rather not crash here. Rather go home, sober up, have a shower.

Now that the haze of sex is gone, you're less enthusiastic about the way the skin on your back feels tighter; the remains of his fun drying out.

"Psst," you hiss, trying to get Jimin's attention - but he just snores a little harder. Is dead to the world. Always is after a few too many.

You don't want to turn the light on just incase you wake him, so you head towards the sitting room instead, hoping maybe there'd be a charger in there. You'll plug your phone in for a few minutes, enough charge to ensure you can make it home, and then that'll be it.

Park Jimin will be all but a memory. Not a bad one. Not a significantly great one either. Just a reminder of your reckless youth.

You're still in your heels, thanks to Jimin's decision to take you bent over his desk, so you try your hardest not let them click against the tiles. You're a little tipsy, but you think you're doing alright - that is, at least, until you realise you have no idea where the light switch is.

"Shit."

And then you're on the floor.

You hadn't meant to trip over the side table, but it was so low down that it had been hard to see. Already unsteady on your feet, it hadn't taken much for you to fall - taking the games console controllers resting on it straight down with you - but on the plus side, you've just found the floor switch for a lamp.

So busy trying to figure which wall socket to switch out, you don't notice the click of a door. It's from down the hall, the opposite end to Jimin's room.

Jimin's flatmate pads along the tile flooring, scuffing against them slightly. He's in nothing but a pair of boxers and socks. He's silent, bringing the heel of his palm to his eyes, rubbing slightly. Having only just fallen asleep, he didn't take too kindly to the rude awakening - but knew Jimin was a liability after a few too many. Nothing to be too annoyed about.

"Watcha lost?" he croaks, before you manage to flick the light on and his gaze falls on you. "Oh."

His brow pinch together, eyes scanning you. He blinks once, twice. Sneers a little in confusion. "What are you doing here?"

You stare up at him, eyes wide as you take him in; hair ruffled, exposed torso shining in the warm lamp light, tattoos trailing up his arm and spilling over onto his shoulder.

You're still in your party dress. What little makeup you did still have on when you left the club is now smeared around your eyes. Your ponytail isn't as sleek as it once was thanks to Jimin's earlier grip on it.

And then he notices the hickey, too. Ah. That explains it.

You furrow your brows right back. "Could ask you the same."

You wonder what brings him here at such an hour. Perhaps he's dating Jimin's roommate. Perhaps she was at the bar too, and he just went home with her? Perhaps you misread his flirting and it's not a 'she' at all?

His tongue runs along the inside of his cheek as you stand, straightening yourself out a little. You're awkward as you get to your feet, legs bowing a little. Your eyes are all big and wide, like they were when you thought he could smell smoke on you earlier. He feels a little bad.

You half expect to hear a 'baby, come back to bed,' from whoever he's sharing one with.

But instead, Jeongguk simply says, "didn't realise I needed permission to be in my own apartment."

Your eyes close as your whole entire body winces from the cringe. Of course. It makes perfect sense.

"Running out on him already?" Jeongguk smirks. It's arrogant. Feels like he's judging you. Taking it personally. "Cold."

"Places to be," you shrug. "He's out cold."

"Yeah," Jeongguk nods. "He does that. Sounds like Jimin."

There's silence for a moment. Neither of you know exactly what to say. Early morning is breaking, and it's casting the most glorious orange hues onto his toned abs. You've no idea what he does in the gym, but you know he must be there every waking moment to have a physique like that.

"Sorry-"

"I was just-"

Again, you both pause, a little bashful. Red in the cheeks. Heartbeat in your throat. You look down, and give Jeongguk the room to talk.

"I thought Jimin was looking for something. Sorry. I'll let you get on."

"Oh, no," you smile. "It's fine, I'm sorry for waking you. Was just about to leave."

"Only been home for about twenty minutes. Didn't wake me."

Your face turns a ghostly white. He laughs.

"Didn't hear anything, don't worry."

And now it's as rosy as his lips, which are breaking into a smile.

"Clear off," he says tenderly. "There's a taxi rank next to the CU across the road. I'll tell Jimin you had to get home. No biggie."

You nod. Bow because that somehow feels appropriate. He's laughing at you again, and you're laughing too and - fuck - you want to die. This is not how you thought your night would end. Didn't even get an orgasm from Jimin to make up for the awkwardness of such an encounter.

"Thank you."

"It's cool," he says as he shrugs, walking to the door with you in a casual silence. It's awkward but not uncomfortable - although it is a little funny, 'cause even though his roommates been inside of you, you somehow feel like you know Jeongguk a little better.

He says goodbye. Reminds you to text Jimin to let him know you're home safe (not that you have his number) and smiles as he says, "See you around, trouble."

And you know you shouldn't, but you really hope you do.

AO3 | MASTERLIST | NEXT

#by holly #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook ff #jk #jungkook x reader #jeongguk fanfic #bangtan #jungkook fluff #bartender!jungkook #non idol au #bts fanfic #jeongguk fic #bad decisions #dappleddaisies

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theheartofthestar · 18 hours

Text

Prompt 28 - Dogwalking AU

@wolfstarmicrofic - April 28th, 1284 words

The doorbell rings in the middle of a Saturday, and Padfoot, bless that big silly boy, barks and wags his tail in his better impersonation of a golden retriever.

When Remus picked him up from the shelter, he was told Padfoot was a dog not many people took interest in, big and black as he was, people assumed he'd be aggressive. No matter he was actually a sweet silly puppy at heart, no matter his previous owner had obviously trained him well. In French of all languages, but still, well trained once you got the hang of the right commands.

It was Lily who had called him, almost begging him to take this dog. Padfoot was clearly struggling to adapt to the shelter, needed extra cuddles from the humans, and although he was very friendly, the volunteers could see him getting sadder by the day. So Lily, in her endless wisdom, had called the one friend who also needed some extra company, who also needed those extra cuddles, and who struggled to voice that need. And so Remus had found himself with a lap full of Padfoot and jumpers that would forever be interwoven with black dog hair.

Enough to say it had been some very happy six months so far.

So here they are, cuddling on the sofa, Remus with a cup of tea on one hand and a dark romance novel in the other, something he's reading for the bookclub Mary roped him into. Padfoot lying down mostly on top of him, a happy dog smile on his furry little face as he drools in his sleep. The doorbell rings and Padfoot scrambles up, paws expertly finding and painfully digging in all of Remus' soft places.

"Coming! Just a sec! No, Pads, back, stand back- No, Padfoot, wait, listen you need to let me open the door-" Remus finally manages to push Padfoot out of the way and open the door just a crack. Outside, there are two handsome young men, one big and buff and sporting a pair of glasses that would look nerdy on anyone else but on him just look sexy, and one tall and lean, leather jacket and wide legged pants hugging a tight waist barely visible under a crop top.

Remus immediately can be sure of two things: one, it's been way too long since he got laid if he's thirsting so hard over strangers, and two, this is probably a type of scam, since how else would two people that looked like this ever knock randomly on Remus' door?

"Hi!" The dark skinned one says with a bright smile. Padfoot barks louder, trying to push against Remus' legs.

"No, Pads, please shh- Hello?" Remus answers.

"Is that your dog?" Says the man in leather, hands in his pockets, but head trying to peak behind Remus. Padfoot barks and barks and barks.

"Yeah?" Remus says, and it's almost a question. "Sorry for the noise, if that's the problem, we're usually a lot quieter than this, he's just excit-"

"He's a very handsome dog" interrupts the man, eyes shining.

"...ok" Remus doesn't want to be rude, really, but what ever? He almost closes the door in their faces, he would have, if he wasn't both trying to hold the door and stop Padfoot from pushing it open. "No, Pads, please, what is happening, love? Please shhh"

"I told you it was Padfoot!" Says the one with the glasses, slapping the other man on the back and then coming even closer, to kneel by Remus' door and try to pet Padfoot through the small crack. Padfoot goes berserk at this. "Name's James, this is Sirius-" James nods to the other man, and then his voice shifts to a baby voice "-and this is baby Padfoot, yes you are, yes you are baby boy, who's the bestest boy?"

"How did you, uhm, did you find my address from the shelter?" Remus says, thinking maybe Lily lead them here.

"The shelter? He was in a shelter?" Sirius eyes snap up to Remus' face, searching for something. His eyes are still shining dangerously.

"Oh no, I saw you two walking and I followed you the other day" James says casually, as if that's just the most normal thing to do, follow people home, and then adds, with a wink "I could recognize my nephew anywhere"

Remus finally opens the door, and Padfoot runs out, jumping up and down, around the two men. He then jumps right up onto Sirius chest, huge black dog being held like the most precious thing, and Sirius just starts bawling, right then and there, against Padfoot's fur. The dog licks his face and wags his tail. Remus is moved but also very, very confused.

"I was told he was surrendered" Remus says, doubtfully, after the sobs diminish. "His family couldn't take care of him anymore"

"They told me they killed him" Sirius says, and starts sobbing hard again. James runs a hand up and down his back, looking pained.

"Maybe Reggie took him. He's smart like that, and you always said he loves animals, he probably lied to them" James says, and looks at Remus as if asking for support on this. Remus almost throws his hands up. What can he even say? He doesn't know who this Reggie person is! Hell, he doesn't know who these two men are!

"So" Remus starts, feeling at a loss but also starting to feel slightly annoyed. Whoever these people are, they are clearly the previous owners, but Remus- well, Remus loves this dog, alright? And he's not going to let him go, especially not back to the family that abandoned him in the first place. "I'm sorry, but- you can't take him"

The two men look up at him, Sirius still teary eyed, James tilting his head as if confused.

"You can't take him with you, I mean" Remus says, hoping his voice sounds more confident than he feels. "He's- we live together, now, he's been living here for months, and he was in the shelter a long time too, so I don't think-"

"No, I understand" Sirius interrupts, and Padfoot finally jumps down. Wagging his tail happily, watching all of them with big, happy eyes.

"Sirius-" James starts, voice unsure.

"No, James, that makes sense. This is his home now and I think..." Sirius trails off.

"Remus"

"...I think Remus is right" he finishes, hand on his hips and nodding as if trying to convince himself.

James looks at Sirius with something close to heartbreak in his eyes, Sirius looks at Padfoot adoringly, Padfoot comes to Remus, all silly smiles and happy tail, and Remus says something he had never considered before.

"Maybe you could walk him, sometimes?" Remus says, and when two sets of eyes look up at him, he blushes. "I mean, he will still live here, but if you want... You could take him for walks, or to the dog park"

"Oh! Like joint custody!" James perks up with a bright smile. Remus winces.

"Like dogwalking" Remus corrects, but he sees Sirius' hopeful smile.

"Yeah, I'd- I'd love that, actually."

Remus' heart beats faster when Sirius looks him straight in the eyes. He suddenly has a feeling this will all be too much like co-parenting.

He blushes, and when Sirius says he'll stop by the next day and asks Remus for his favorite coffee order so he can bring some for him, Remus fights the urge to bite his lip like a teenage girl.

He closes the door, and slides down until he's sitting with his back against it, and a lap full of happy, panting Padfoot.

"Oh, Pads, what did we get ourselves into?"

You can read more of my work here

#astra writes #wolfstar microfic #wolfstar #Padfoot is a good boi #sirius black #Remus Lupin

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