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tbaluver · 3 months ago

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S/O That Wears Glasses- The Love And DeepSpace Men

pairings in order: xavier x reader, zayne x reader, rafayel x reader, sylus x reader, caleb x reader requested: by anonnie `⎚⩊⎚´ -✧ genre/tags: fluff fluff + silly a/n: hihi lovelies ! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ we're nawt gonna talk abt how long ago this request was ( ;´ - `;) this is a lil short but i should have other posts uploaded soon ! enjoy reading! (∩˃o˂∩)♡ thank yew @ilovemitsuya and @deusfoundry for helping MWAH ♡(˃͈ ˂͈ ) any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

he adores you with or without them

The type to remove your glasses as soon as you both settle in for bed, believing you should feel comfortable and relaxed without them.

Sometimes he playfully tests how bad your vision is by leaning his face close, causing your face to flush

Whenever your glasses break during a mission, he immediately works to fix them on the spot so you can see clearly again.

Goes "boop" whenever he sees your glasses slipping off your nose while gently pushing them back up for you

Zayne:

He knows your exact prescription so he makes sure to always have an extra pair on him whenever you forget, lose, or accidentally break them

When he comes home late at night and finds you asleep with your glasses on, he gently takes them off for you, carefully placing them on the nightstand or back in their case

He would carry a small cloth on him whenever your glasses get smudged

One time he accidentally grabbed your glasses when rushing back to the hospital, not realizing how much smaller they felt

Gets you matching sunglasses that he wears often in the cafe so you can wear them when the sun is too bright

Rafayel:

The type to act cute whenever he tries to put on your glasses for you but ends up poking your eye. He’ll end up rambling many apologies right after

Attempt two. Covers your eyes- unless your vision is already bad, to surprise kiss you. Sometimes he covers your eyes and he’ll say “guess whoooo cutie?”

Attempt three. When you were looking for your glasses, he'd place them on top of his head. When you finally spot them and reach up to grab it, he'd lean down to your level and press a sweet kiss on your lips before handing them over

He'd make you a personal and special goggles so you can dive into the sea together. He'd also make a cute case for your glasses that's designed perfectly for you

Sylus:

When your current glasses feel too uncomfortable, he’ll go shopping with you to find a pair that’s more comfortable and suited to your style. He’ll even engrave something special for you on the temples. The same goes for when your glasses break after you accidentally leave them on the bed or couch, making his fifty pounds of voluptuous ass accidentally sit on them. He would have to remind you to be careful where you place them.

He’ll offer to read things out for you if you’re reading a book, using a tablet, or trying to read a menu way to close to your face

Brushes your hair out of the way when your glasses start to slip down your nose or get out place

Whenever he leans in to kiss you, he gently lifts your glasses off to make sure nothing comes between the two of you

Caleb:

If you lost your glasses somewhere at the house, detective Caleb is on it. He’ll reassure you that he’ll look for it himself because he doesn’t want you to bump into anything or hurt yourself- depending on how bad your vision is

He’s playfully taken your glasses before just to see how they’d look on him but then he realized that they were too small for him. But really he just wanted to know how your vision is just in case he could be even more helpful for you.

Anytime you go out with him, he’ll help adjust your glasses for you whenever he sees them slipping off.

Finds it cute whenever your glasses get fogged up whenever you eat something steamy or cook something steamy with him. He’ll offer to feed it to you or he’ll let you cook with different ingredients instead

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zepskies · 21 days ago

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hiii lovely happy wednesday 🫶🏽:) random question while i’m on my 10 :D this kind of goes hand in hand with your coffee shop headcanons if you squint, but in your opinion what coffee shop pastry would the boys (your favorite jackles characters) choose? 🤎

if that makes sense, like I think beau would really like our dulce de leche cheese danish :p or like ben might like a jalapeño cheese bagel lmao

again I loveee your insights <3 it makes work more entertaining for sure cause then i’m thinking of your responses at random times lol 💗 + I hope you’re having a wonderful week !!🫂

Happy Wednesday, friend! 😘 Oh yay! I love your random questions, and I love coffee shop pastries. 🥐 ☕

Dulce de leche Danish sounds amaziiiiing. 😩 And thank you!! I'm flattered that you love my insights - and that my little rambles infiltrate your brain! lolol 🥰💜 Hope you're having a great week too, hun! Mine is ok so far. I have a lot coming up tomorrow, so this is a fun distraction until then! 😂

HEADCANON: Coffee Shop Pastry Orders

Dean Winchester

*snorts* You mean the human garbage disposal?

We all know Dean's not picky about food. Though since he's drinking an espresso in his coffee order headcanon, I think he'd go for something indulgent to fill his stomach, like a cheese Danish, a couple of donuts, or if they have it, a brookie. 😂

He's very happy to show it to you and Sam when he brings it over to your table, strolling over on those bowed legs. Sam, of course, wears that half amused, half judgy look of his.

"It's a cookie mashed up with a brownie, Sam. Best of both worlds."

Beau Arlen

Beau the basic latte guy needs a basic (but delicious) coffee shop confection to go with it, so I'm going to say he's into coffee cake.

He likes them crumblies on top and a nice, warm cinnamon swirl in his cake. 👌🏽

Just be warned. He's probably going to have you order him another slice of cake while he's still working on the first one.

Soldier Boy (Ben)

Like Dean, this guy's not all that picky about food post-captivity. Of course he likes good food, but he's also highly indulgent in most respects.

"I like what I fucking like," as he often tells you with a smirk. That goes for food, drugs, and frisky women (of almost all ages).

That being said, since we paired him with a cold brew, he'll probably want something classic, like himself: a glazed donut or a slice of marble pound cake with that thin strip of icing on top.

However, I think he could be persuaded (by you) to order something a little adventurous. He'd be game enough to try a jalapeño cheese bagel, with hash browns, and that donut and/or slice of pound cake on the side...

And he'll probably tell them to pack him up an extra bagel for the road. 😂 🥯

Russell Shaw

Russell's another one who's highly self-indulgent lol. He ain't picky about food, that's for sure. He'll eat junk food just as easily as a five-course meal from a Michelin star restaurant.

But since he got paired with a flat white, I think he'd get the biggest cinnamon roll he can find. He'd ask if they could warm it up for him, get that icing all warm and running down the sides, sticky and sweet.

And he looks at you mischievously while he licks his fingers afterward. ✌🏼

(He's only satisfied when he makes you blush.)

AN: Do you agree with these? Got other pastry orders for these guys? 💜

I love working on these HCs every time, no matter how simple or complex the prompt is. 😂

Join My Patreon ⟡ Get early access to new stories, bonus content, and first looks at upcoming stories. Top-tier patrons can even send me requests!

⋆˙⟡ Get notified when more HCs drop! Follow my fic library blog - @zepskieswrites - with notifications on. 💜

Dean Winchester Imagines

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Beau Arlen Masterlist

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Russell Shaw Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Dean, Beau, Soldier Boy + Russell Tag List (Part 1)

@kazsrm67 @foxyjwls007 @luci-in-trenchcoats @lamentationsofalonelypotato @waynes-multiverse

@mostlymarvelgirl @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester

@deans-spinster-witch @sanscas @hobby27 @kaleldobrev @spnwoman

@samanddeaninatrenchcoat @pieandmonsters @globetrotter28 @midnightmadwoman @chevroletdean

@lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @spnfamily-j2 @deansbbyx @chernayawidow

@mimaria420 @stoneyggirl2 @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @waywardxwords @twinkleinadiamondsky

@my-stories-vault @0ccvltism @rizlowwritessortof @cookiechipdough @mrsjenniferwinchester

@fromcaintodean @k-slla @jackles010378 @deanbrainrotwritings @alwaystiredandconfused

@mrlonelycat @deans-daydream @leigh70 @aylacavebear @kmc1989

@siampie @rubyvhs @winchestergirl2 @winchester-whiskey

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axolotsofluv · 2 months ago

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❝𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐞𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐘𝐨𝐮❞

this is my first attempt at writing here in tumblr. I'm still unfamiliar with the mechanics so forgive me if the format looks a bit plain ;-; This is also my attempt at challenging myself to write romance and capture intimate, domestic moments without excessively using kisses/hugs. Please excuse the writing mistakes here. Hope anyone reading this enjoys! (⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠)

✧─── ･｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

❥ pairing: veritas ratio x reader

❥ tags: humor, romance, fluff, domesticity, ratio x reader

❥ song inspo: to the bone by pamungkas

✧─── ･｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

➷ Him spooning you and covering your ears during a thunderstorm knowing how sensitive you are to the startling noise

➷ Extending a hand towards you out of reflex whenever you're seen bounding towards him, as though ushering you closer and not allowing a single millimeter of space to fester between you

➷‌ Him immediately sliding over his meal of choice to you when he catches you openly staring at it. You point at it and sweetly ask him if you could have a bite, and when he complies, he doesn't take it back until you are satisfied

➷ His firm tone when he chastises you for picking the cheapest option on the menu, repeating the phrase he often uses in situations like these: "I'm paying. Now, perish those thoughts and choose what you truly want". As you place your order, he notices that your current option was the second cheapest meal on the menu. This stunt garners his disapproving stare, and you eventually cave in from the pressure and order what you really want

➷ He doesn't partake in PDA often, or much at all, but people aren't oblivious to the way he tends to shift most of his body weight towards you when you're around just so his skin can make contact with yours or the way he seeks out every opportunity to touch you, whether it's a simple shoulder tap or a poke at your forearm (bro must have you within at least a meter radius, further than that and he'll pull you closer to him)

➷ ‌In the early stages of your relationship, he noticed that you frequently hold his bag for him, which was a gesture more commonly practiced by men. Not wanting your considerate gestures to go unreciprocated, he now takes the initiative to carry your belongings for you whenever you're out together. His arms now serve as a multifunctional tool for you to either hang your belongings on or latch onto when you're afflicted with a sudden bout of neediness

➷ Never turning down an opportunity to touch your hair. He sees a leaf on your hair? His fingers are already working on removing it. Not only that, but he goes the extra mile by also brushing your hair. He sees a few stray hairs sticking out? His palm swiftly mats it down with gentle, methodical swipes. You wonder why his hand lingers for more than a minute, but you make no attempts to stop him ‌

➷ Your arms are his stress ball. Whenever he catches you doing something cute, be prepared to have your upper arms seized and squished to oblivion. He's done it so often to the point that it developed into a habit. It wasn't until one of his acquaintances pointed it out did he realize it had long gone past the point of habit and into the territory of involuntary behavior. He'd do it even when he's ticked off by what you did/say that at this point, the line between cuteness aggression and sheer aggression is blurred‌

➷ Reflexively holds your hair back whenever you lean over something, especially food. He can tell when it's about to happen by the spark in your eyes and by the time your body tips over to gain a closer look at the object of interest, his lithe fingers shoot out from their previous position at breakneck speed to prevent the falling strands from getting dirty

➷ Those lips that are prolific in spouting soul-crushing, confidence-tearing remarks become pliable crescents whenever you speak. Even if the contents of your mindless ramblings are something he deems nonsensical, inane, and even outright idiotic, a smile will inevitably worm its way up his face. Additionally, as much as he enjoys teasing and berating you (lightheartedly), there is nothing that sates his senses more than your gleeful laughter every time he comes up with a clever quip or a bestows you with adulations. He's not one for sugar coating, but he'd be lying if he said your mirthful reactions aren't enough incentives for him to start doing so

➷‌ Always knows instinctively whenever you're confused by a term or saying, by that pursed lips of yours and the way you stare up at him with a distraught look as if fearing that admitting your incomprehension will garner his or his peers' disdain. When he spots these telltale characteristics of befuddlement, he will draw himself closer to your ear and explain to you in a voice as smooth as silk, yet as soothing as the nightfall breeze, with words meticulously formulated to aid you in obtaining a general scope of what's being discussed. Your apologies are met with a swift rebuttal as he assures you that it was best to be forthcoming about one's lack of knowledge than to feign understanding

➷‌ Him being extra careful with his words when you need his candid input. He goes the extra mile to mince his words when he would usually show no hesitation dishing out insults like flyers. You would ask him for his thoughts on an outfit, and he'd reply "do you want me to be completely honest?" At this point, you had resigned yourself to an inevitable fate of being on the receiving end of his critical and straightforward dissection as he picked on each and every visible flaw, supplying concrete alternatives to mitigate the mistake but not before bashing you for your poor taste. To your surprise, however, he actually... held back? Instead hearing something like "even the most mediocre of minds know not to go for this color scheme. Pray tell, is your goal to be presentable or a laughing stock?"; he goes: "The color of your top clashes with your shoes; perhaps, you can try this instead." or even something simple like "That won't do. You can achieve more with this instead."

➷‌ Watching a movie together and he sees your quivering lips, hears a whimper, and catches the indignant wipe of your eyes. With a sigh, he opens his arms for you to leap in to and make a mess of his freshly ironed shirt

➷‌ "Tell me why!" You angle an imaginary mic at his face, watching closely and expectantly. He breathes out an exasperated sigh, mutters something about your maturity, and then finally says the following line with a delivery somehow more monotone than gal gadot: "ain't nothing but a heartache..." It takes a year off his lifespan every time you initiate these spontaneous karaoke sessions, but he supposes that having the lifespan of a mosquito is worth it if it means seeing you burst into a fitful laughter

➷‌ As much as he finds solace in the moments shared between him and you, Ratio also relishes the times he is able to enjoy a good book and delve in his own ruminations. However, in the rare instances you show even the slightest bit of interest in what he's keeping himself preoccupied with, he'll scooch over to make room for you. No words are exchanged or needed. The moment you accept the silent invitation and the proximity amplifies, Ratio's arm rests around your shoulders like a seat belt securing you to his side before you both eventually embark on an academic journey together

➷‌ There's nothing that robs him of his composure more than when you say "thank you" and bat your lashes at him, playing coy. It sends his heart thumping wildly and engulfs his face in a disarming sense of warmth. It makes him weak—he knows it, you know it. He chases that high by making himself available whenever you're immersed in a task that he knows will require his assistance

➷‌ It's public knowledge that Ratio's productivity and looks can be ascribed to his habit of waking up early. He utilizes the time to read a page or two from his book, exercise, gather his bearings, and prepare himself a balanced meal for breakfast before he would eventually tackle his arduous day-to-day routine as both an educator and a scholar. But now, his morning routine undergoes a bit of change. The steaming cup of coffee becomes two cups. The table is occupied by two separate plates instead of one. And once all that is done and over with, he goes back to bed to wake up his other half

➷‌ You run to him, frantic, acting like the apocalypse is nigh, frazzled and distraught beyond words and he just points to the vanity without a single scathing comment, unfazed to the point of blase. You grab your missing phone with a hop in your step and thank him. The next time you do it, he just goes, "have you tried looking in the drawer?" Wallet found, breakdown averted

➷‌ When he laughs at your jokes (he actually doesn't; on a good day, the most you'll get is a faint, airy snort while the second best is just a blank stare) ‌

➷‌ When he puts his book down, tucks a bookmark between the pages, and ultimately relinquishing his source of entertainment to listen to whatever you have to say, trivial as he may claim it is

➷‌ When he calls you by a term of endearment and doesn't shy away from regarding you with light touches in front of people, despite being fully aware of how this would impact his professional life. This impact being employees gawking at him for actually having a love life, close peers teasing him for being a sap, and even a few brave students approaching him to offer him their best wishes (and surprise because, as a brazen student of his once said: "someone as prickly as him can get together with someone? damn")

➷‌ Even in the aftermath of a recent conflict, he keeps the door to his study room unlocked. He might not say a word to you due to his lingering annoyance, but at the end of the day, he wouldn't (correction: could never) turn you away if you come looking for him

➷‌ Gaining the doctor's interest is a monumental achievement as he is someone with a penchant for knowledge and discoveries that most people will take years to understand. Yet somehow, a simple text from you is all it takes to keep his attention riveted to his phone. If anyone ever sees his vision glued to his screen as though he has just seen someone solve simple addition incorrectly, they'll know who's responsible

➷‌ When he takes you out to your favorite restaurant and brings you to the beach at evening to watch the sunset, knowing how much this kind of scenery soothes your soul

➷‌ When he tosses an apple towards you while you were off collecting seashells, only for it to land on your lap, earning a dissatisfied grunt from him as he chides you for not catching. He retrieves the apple and tosses it again. You try to play it cool when you manage to catch it the second time, but it's hard not to get giddy when you see him with the biggest smile on his face

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simplyhughes · 6 months ago

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Reunion | Evan “Buck” Buckley x Reader

WC: 2.2K

Request: “Pis pls plss do a childhood friends to lovers w buck like she moved to La to be close to buck and everyone at the 118 thinks they're dating because of how close they are but they aren't dating YET and can you please try to throw in a heated argument between them that ends with a heated kiss!!!!!! Pls plss plsss”

Pairing: Evan Buckley X Fem!Reader

Warning: sad childhood ?? Idk nothing rlly

A/N: Please give me feedback!! I hope you like it!!!

It was always Buck and Y/N—everyone knew that. The two of you had been inseparable ever since you moved in next door in the second grade. It all started with Maddie babysitting you for some extra pocket money. You adored her; she was the sister you’d always wished for. And when Buck began tagging along, the rest was history.

The day Buck told you he’d been kicked out of community college, your heart broke for him. When you pulled away from the hug meant to comfort him, he shared that Maddie had given him some money to figure out his next steps. You questioned him, pestered him, trying to keep him from doing something irrational. By the end of the conversation, he stormed out of your apartment, slamming the door behind him, leaving you sitting there in tears.

Once Buck hit the road to California, his regret set in. He knew he had to do this for himself, to find himself. His guilt poured in like rainfall. After a couple hours of driving, A few hours into the drive, he pulled into a rest stop with a diner and ordered coffee and pancakes. Without thinking, he dialed your number, desperate to make things right. The two of you talked for over an hour, hashing out everything. You understood his need for a fresh start, but it devastated you that it wouldn’t include you.

When the call ended, both parties felt relieved. You promised to come visit when you finished school and both of you vowed to stay in touch. The vow was never broken. Everyday you hear new thrilling anecdotes of Evans' life. The trashing fire he put out, now that he was a firefighter, or the crazy new fling of the week. Though every time he brings up a new girl you feel your heart pang, you stay happy for him and you're grateful to hear his voice.

After you received your diploma, you wasted no time. With your degree in hand and a mix of nerves and excitement in your chest, you booked the next flight to the City of Angels. Maddie, now living in Los Angeles herself, was the one who gave you Buck’s current address.

You’d thought about this moment for years, imagining how it would feel to see him again. The two of you had kept in touch, but phone calls and texts could only do so much. You wanted to be there in person, to see him in his element, living the life he’d always dreamed of.

When you arrived, standing outside his apartment door, you hesitated. What if things had changed too much? What if the years apart had built walls that even your bond couldn’t break? But before you could overthink it, the door swung open, and there he was—Buck, with his boyish grin and those familiar eyes that held both surprise and joy.

“Y/N?” he said, his voice laced with disbelief.

“Hi, Buck,” you replied, your heart pounding.

Without a second thought, he engulfed you in a bone-crushing hug, sweeping you off the ground and spinning you around like a rag doll. When your feet finally touched the floor, his hands cupped your face, his eyes searching yours.

“You look beautiful, Y/N. I missed you so much,” he confessed.

Before you could reply, his excitement took over. “Oh! You have to meet my team! They’re going to love you…” He rambled on about how great they were, how much he’d missed you, and how everyone already knew all about you.

Grabbing your hand, he led you out of the apartment and down to the parking lot. It was crazy—like no time had passed at all. Everything between you felt natural, just as it had before he left.

Buck opened the door of his Jeep, helping you into the passenger seat before rushing around to climb in himself.

“Wait… Are we really going to meet them?” you asked nervously. You’d heard so much about his team, but this was all so sudden.

“Well, I was already on my way to work. This is perfect! Don’t worry—they already know all about you,” he assured you with a grin.

The firehouse was bigger than you’d thought. Buck leads the way with you trailing closely behind him, almost hiding yourself from the fire fighters inside the house.

“HEYYY BUCKAROO!” Echoed through the house, originating from on top of one of the fire engines.

“Hey Chim! Look- I brought someone!” Buck chirped.

“You brought someone?” Spoke a man who had walked out of the locker room. From all the pictures that Buck sent of his new LA family, you were pretty sure this was Eddie. Now standing in the middle of the fire house, Buck tugged on your arm pulling you out in front of him. You are now face to face with three members of Evans team. Chim, who was on top of the Engine, climbs his way down standing next to Eddie.

“Guys, this is Y/N!” Buck exclaims, acting as if this was an elementary show and tell.

“Wait, the Y/N?” A woman you “knew” as Hen questioned.

“Like Pennsylvania Y/N?” Eddie followed up.

“That's me.” You reply sheepishly, giving them a small wave.

“It is very nice to meet you Y/N, I’m Bobby” The older of the four introduced himself, sticking out his hand for you to shake.

“Captain Nash, right?” You question, shaking his hand softly. In return, he nods with a sweet smile.

You shuffle back, finding your place next Buck, whose beaming smile never left his face. He loops an arm around your waist, giving you a reassuring nod. Buck announces he is gonna give you the “grand tour” of the fire house. He clasps your hand with his as he pulls you off upstairs.

Hen, Chim and Eddie lounged across the couch, subtling watching you and Buck. Your elbows rest on the kitchen counter sipping on a glass of water Buck poured for you. His mouth is talking a mile a minute, subconsciously always keeping a hand on you. The other firefighters watch Buck, noting his eyes gleaming with awe. Buck sweeps his large hand across your forehead sweeping a strand of hair out from your face.

“I missed you” He whispers as he pulls you in for a hug.

“I missed you too—” You began to respond before you got rudely interrupted by the piercing sound of the alarm.

“Hey, you can go back to my place or hangout here. Whatever you want, mkay? I gotta go, but I'll see you too.” He quickly explains releasing you from the hug, placing a soft kiss against the top of your head. You didn't even have time to respond before he ran away with a grin. He shoots down the firepole meeting the rest of the team for departure. Overlooking from the banister, you watch him in action. The engine pulls out, sirens blazing. Now you are left all alone.

After a minute, you decided to call an uber back to Buck’s place. Only one problem, you couldn't find your phone. You retraced all your steps and still couldn’t find it. Ten minutes later is when you realize your phone was left back at Buck's apartment. You didn't want to take Buck's car and overstep, so your only option left was to hang around until the 118 got back.

A couple hours later, the truck pulls back into the bay. You watch the team file off the truck, shedding their heavy gear and recapping about the recent call. After a minute you spot Buck and his group.

“So, what's with you and Y/N?” Hen asks.

“What do you mean?” He hums, tossing his jacket over his shoulder.

“You’re like attached by the hip!” Chim jokes.

“You guys together?” Eddie pesters nudging Bucks shoulder.

“Huh? What? Nonono, she has been my best friend since forever! Like a second sister!” He defends himself. That felt like a kick to your gut. Suddenly, your stomach swirled with lost hope. A gloss film spread across your eyes, but you tilted your head up to rid the tears.

After the team put all their stuff away, Buck spots you in a similar spot to where he left you. He gestures you to make your way down to him. You sluggishly trot down the stairs, approaching him.

“I thought you woulda left.”

“I forgot my phone back at your place, I wanted to call an uber.”

“You could have taken my car! But m’sorry, I hope you were able to entertain yourself.”

“It was no problem.” You shrugged.

“You good “Y/NN?” He questioned, voice laced with concern.

In return, you nod offering your best smile. “Just jetlagged.” You lied.

“Here i'll get you an uber. I'm on call for a few more hours and I'll be home ASAP.” He smiled, opening the app on his phone.

You sprawled out against Bucks couch, flicking through the channels on tv. But you are too lost in your head to decide on a show. Not only did you realize your feelings for Buck but how could you have been so foolish to think he thought of you that day? He is a jacked firefighter with all the gorgeous LA girls at his disposal. You were just next door neighbor Y/N.

Buck arrives back at the apartment a few hours later, exhausted but grinning when he sees you sprawled on the couch.

“Y/N, you here?” he calls out, dropping his bag by the door.

“Yeah, on the couch.,” you reply, sitting up, though your voice lacks its usual spark.

He notices. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

You hesitate, but the events of the day are still fresh. He tosses a pillow off the couch, making room for himself, plopping down next to you. Finally, you blurt out, “Why did you say that to them?”

Buck freezes, confused. “Say what?”

“That I’m like a second sister to you,” you snap, the words spilling out before you can stop them.

Buck’s brows knit together. “Because that’s what you are! What’s wrong with that?”

The emotional dam breaks. “Because I’m not your sister, Buck! I flew across the country to be here—to be with you. Do you even realize how much you mean to me? And to hear you say that…” You trail off, your voice cracking.

He steps closer, his voice softening. “Y/N, I didn’t mean it like that. I just—”

“You just don’t see me the way I see you,” you cut him off, tears threatening to spill. “And that’s fine, Buck. But I can’t keep pretending this is enough.”

Buck’s jaw tightens, and his frustration rises. “You think I don’t care about you? I care about you more than anything—maybe too much. That’s why I said it, okay? Because if I lose you, I don’t know what I’d do!”

His words hit you like a freight train, and the room goes silent except for your uneven breathing.

“Then stop saying things like that,” you whisper.

Buck stares at you, his chest heaving. “You have no idea how hard it was to be that far away from you. And now to be this close to you and not—”

“Not what?” you challenge, stepping closer.

His restraint snaps. “This,” he whispers, and in one fluid motion, he cups your face and crashes his lips against yours.

The kiss is searing, all pent-up frustration and years of unspoken feelings spilling over. Your hands tangle in his hair as you pull him closer, melting into him as though the world outside doesn’t exist.

When you finally break apart, both of you are breathless, his forehead resting against yours, the only sound being you struggling to catch your breath.

“I’ve loved you for so long, Y/N. It killed me to leave you.” he admits, his voice hoarse.

Your heart swells, and a small smile tugs at your lips. “Took you long enough to say it Buckley.”

He pulls you into another hug, his strong arms wrapping around you tightly like he’s afraid to let go. “So…does this mean you’re not leaving anytime soon?”

“Not unless you want me to,” you tease, your voice lighter now.

Buck leans back, his eyes meeting yours. “I don’t want you to go. Ever.”

“You’re stuck with me, Buck,” you murmur, a soft smile playing on your lips.

“Good,” he says, pressing a kiss to your hair.

#simplyhughes #evan buckley x reader #evan buckley imagine #buck 911 #buck imagine #buck x reader #evan buck buckely #911 #911 imagine

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jungkoode · 4 months ago

Text

OFF-LABELS

→ PAIRING : Med Student!Hoseok x F!Reader (Brother’s Best Friend AU)

→ RATING: Mature, 18+, suggestive tones.

→ DATE POSTED: January 30, 2025.

→ NARRATED AUDIO:

→ SUMMARY: You’ve spent four years convincing yourself that your brother’s best friend is just being nice when he remembers your coffee order, quizzes you on neuroanatomy, or lets his touch linger a second too long. Because there’s no way that the golden boy of Seoul National’s medical program might actually be flirting with you. Especially when he keeps saying things that could be perfectly innocent… if only he didn’t say them in that voice.

→ TAGS: second person perspective, female reader, medical school au, brother’s best friend trope, age gap (4 years), pining, touch starved, overthinking reader, confident hoseok, gentle dom hoseok, medical terminology as flirting (lmao), study sessions, domestic moments, innocent (but not really), plausible deniability king hoseok, anxiety, internal monologue, guilty crushes, subtle teasing, emotional edging, gentle manipulation, praise kink undertones, intellectual attraction, competency kink, hand fixation, voice kink, medical intern hoseok, first year med student reader, home setting, casual intimacy, unresolved sexual tension (for now), secret attraction, nervous rambling, self-doubt, intrusive thoughts, anatomy lessons with ulterior motives, competent hoseok, flustered reader, close proximity, accidental touches that aren’t accidents, virgin!reader.

→ CONTENT in this chapter: plausible deniability king hoseok, subtext, dropping slight innuendo with that voice, gentle teasing, double meaning, sexual tension

→ MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQ | WORDCOUNT: 2.6k

→ A/N: So. Listen. I was out there, freezing my ass off at the bus stop, cursing my life choices because why am I even going to the gym at ungodly hours??? And then—THEN—the bus just had the audacity to drive right past me. Love that. Amazing. Naturally, I did what any rational person would do: opened my notes app and started writing instead of using those 45 minutes to, idk, reconsider my entire existence. And thus, Off-Labels was born. This drabble? It’s about the kind of man who is dangerous in the most insidious way—intelligent, competent, and hiding behind a veneer of plausible deniability like it’s a damn art form. You know he knows what he’s doing to you. You know he’s aware of the effect he has. But can you prove it? No. Because he’s just so nice. So helpful. So unintentionally devastating to your nervous system. It’s honestly sick and twisted and exactly my type. Am I a menace? Absolutely. First installment in what might become a series because apparently I can't stop writing about competent men in medical settings using anatomical terms as foreplay. Will I be taking criticism? Absolutely not. ❤️‍🩹🩺

→ MINI SERIES: NEXT

PLAYLIST

You don’t believe in stories like in books.

Sure, you like to read them—disappear into them, let them pull you under like a riptide until you forget about deadlines and midterms and the existential dread of being a twenty-something who still doesn’t know what they’re doing.

But that’s all they are.

Stories.

Fantasies about tragic, fated loves and brooding billionaires and dangerous men with wings. You like them because they’re not real. Because it’s fun to pretend, for a little while, that you’re the kind of girl who’s got a winged fae warrior at her feet. Or a CEO husband who calls her darling in an office with floor-to-ceiling windows. Or—God forbid—her hot math teacher, who lets her stay after class for extra lessons.

Or your brother’s best friend’s secret hookup.

Not that you’re thinking about that one.

Not that it would even be your case.

You shift on the couch, burying yourself deeper into the cocoon of your brother’s old hoodie. It’s massive on you, the sleeves swallowing your hands, the faded fabric smelling like dust and detergent.

Perfect. The ideal uniform for an evening of doing absolutely nothing.

Your e-reader is dead, so you’ve resorted to flipping through some random paperback you found wedged under the coffee table, something with an aggressively shirtless man on the cover. You’re only half-paying attention, your eyes skimming over the words without really absorbing them.

Caleb should be home soon. Probably. He has class—or he says he has class, but you’re not entirely convinced. He’s in that phase of university where it’s mostly networking and group projects and going out more than actually studying.

Not that you care. He does his thing, you do yours.

A sharp knock at the door pulls you out of your haze.

You ignore it. Caleb has keys. If he forgot them, that’s his problem.

The knock comes again. Then the doorbell rings.

You groan, untangling yourself from the blanket and shuffling toward the door with all the grace of a sleep-deprived goblin. Your hair is a mess, your socks don’t match, and you’re fairly certain you have crumbs on your face from earlier. Good. Whoever’s on the other side can suffer.

Except—

It’s not Caleb.

It’s Hoseok.

Oh.

You freeze, hand still gripping the doorknob, brain buffering at the sight of him standing there, all easy confidence and warm eyes and—why does he always look so put together? It’s unfair. He’s in jeans and a hoodie, nothing special, but it fits him just right, and his hair is slightly tousled, like he just ran a hand through it, and—

Stop.

You force yourself to blink, to breathe, to act like a normal human person.

“Uh,” you say, which is a stellar start.

Hoseok smiles. “Hey.”

He has the kind of voice that makes people listen, rich and smooth, the kind that carries even when he’s speaking softly. Which he is now, like he knows you spook easily.

“Caleb’s not here,” you blurt out.

He tilts his head, amused. “Yeah, I figured.”

Right. Obviously. Because if Caleb were here, he’d be the one answering the door.

You scramble for something else to say, but your brain is blank, completely derailed by the fact that he’s here. In your doorway. Looking at you. And you must look insane—your hair sticking up in weird directions, drowning in a hoodie that is definitely not yours.

And he’s still smiling. Patient. Like he has all the time in the world.

You clear your throat, gripping the edge of the door. “Um. Did you—need something?”

Hoseok shifts, rocking back on his heels. “I was in the area. Thought I’d stop by, see if Caleb was around.” A pause. “And you, too.”

Your brain does an emergency reboot.

You, too.

You swallow. “Oh. Right. Cool. That’s—cool.”

His smile twitches, like he’s holding back a laugh.

You want to throw yourself into traffic.

“Mind if I come in?” he asks, ever-polite, ever-easygoing.

You should say no. Caleb’s not here, and even though Hoseok is Caleb’s best friend—and a genuinely nice person, thoughtful and reliable and the kind of guy who remembers your favorite coffee order—something about being alone with him makes your stomach twist.

But saying no would be weird.

So you step back. “Yeah, uh, sure.”

He steps inside, and suddenly the room feels smaller. Or maybe you’re just too aware of him—his presence, the faint scent of clean laundry and something warmer, something mellow. He’s always been like this, always drawn your attention whether you wanted him to or not.

You watch as he shrugs off his jacket, draping it over the back of a chair like he’s been here a hundred times before. And he has, technically, but not like this. Not without Caleb.

Hoseok glances at the book on the coffee table. “Good?”

You stare at it, momentarily forgetting what book it even is. “Uh. Yeah.”

His eyes flick to the cover. His smile turns amused.

Heat floods your face.

"Interesting choice.”

You freeze. A slow, creeping horror slithers up your spine. Because you didn’t even look at the book before picking it up—you just grabbed whatever you had lying around, assuming it was something boring, something safe—

And now Hoseok is holding a novel titled My Professor’s Secret Temptation.

Oh.

Oh, you actually might be sick.

You scramble for something—anything—to say, but the words wedge themselves somewhere between your throat and your rapidly spiraling embarrassment.

Hoseok flips the book over, scanning the back cover with a curious hum. “Didn’t take you for the forbidden romance type.”

You want the ground to open up. You want to disintegrate.

“I—I didn’t even read it!” you blurt out, a little too fast, a little too desperate. “I wasn’t paying attention, I just grabbed something random, and—and it’s not—”

Hoseok glances at you, amused but not in a mean way, just…interested? "Oh, yeah?”

You nod. Aggressively. “Yes.”

His mouth presses into something thoughtful, like he believes you, but there’s still a flicker of amusement in his expression, like he doesn’t quite know what to do with this new information.

“Huh.” He flips through a few pages idly, head tilting. “He’s pretty bold, huh?”

Your stomach drops. “Who?”

“The professor.”

Your soul leaves your body.

You stare at him, mouth opening and closing, incapable of forming a coherent thought.

Hoseok just nods, easy, unbothered. “Some of these lines are intense,” he muses, flipping another page. “Do real professors talk like this?”

You are going to die. Right here. On the floor.

“I—” Your voice cracks. “I don’t know.”

He hums again, like he’s genuinely considering it, then—just as casually as everything else—he looks up and says, “You think he’s hot?”

Your heart stops.

Not in a teasing way. Not in a mean way. Just…like it’s a normal question. Like this is just an easy, natural conversation between two people who absolutely do not need to be having this conversation.

Your mouth opens. Nothing comes out.

Hoseok’s lips twitch, but it’s not a smirk, not a knowing smile—just quiet amusement, like this whole situation is genuinely kind of funny, and he doesn’t think it’s a big deal at all.

“Relax,” he says, closing the book with a soft thump. “I won’t tell Caleb.”

It’s so casual. So reassuring.

Like he really, really isn’t trying to mess with you.

Which somehow makes it worse.

Hoseok sets the book down with deliberate care, spine aligned parallel to the edge of the coffee table like he’s arranging museum artifacts. Your traitorous eyes track the flex of tendons in his wrist—medical resident hands, steady and precise, the kind that’ve probably held beating hearts in ORs. You bite the inside of your cheek until copper blooms.

He glances at the sofa.

You glance at the sofa.

Three cushions. Two throw pillows. Seventy-two inches of fabric that suddenly feels like the Grand Canyon between acceptable and catastrophic.

“Mind if I…?” He gestures to the spot beside your abandoned blanket nest, already moving before you nod.

The springs creak faintly as he sinks into the middle cushion, thighs spreading in that effortless way men do—knees wide, elbows propped, phone balanced on his lap. You sit next to him—two cushions away—and watch his thumb scroll through messages, the screen’s blue light catching the silver ring he always wears on his index finger. Surgical steel, he’d told you once when you’d asked. Sterile. Practical.

Practical.

Practical like the way his left knee now brushes the edge of your blanket. Practical like the faint cedar-and-disinfectant scent of his cologne. Practical like the half-inch of skin exposed when his hoodie rides up as he stretches his arms behind his head.

Don’t look.

You look.

Stop looking.

He shifts, a subtle roll of his hips that has no business being this distracting. The movement pulls the denim taut across his thighs, and you try—really, genuinely try—to keep your eyes anywhere else. The ceiling. The floor. The stack of medical textbooks by the TV. Anything but the way his thumb now absently traces the inner seam of his jeans.

“Told Caleb I’d wait,” he says, tilting his head toward you. The motion makes his throat work—Adam’s apple bobbing, chin catching gold in the lamplight. “Movie night. You’re welcome to join, if you want.”

Your tongue feels like it’s been replaced with felt. “I—I have… readings.”

“Readings.” His mouth shapes the word like it’s fascinating.

“For… neuroanatomy.” You gesture vaguely toward your backpack slumped by the TV stand, half-buried under a sweatshirt you’ve been using as a pillow. “Midterm next week.”

He hums, low and considering. “Limbic system?”

“Hippocampus. Amygdala. All the… emotional bits.”

“Ah.” His smile softens, crinkling the corners of his eyes. “The parts that make you want to throw textbooks at walls.”

You blink. “You… remember?”

“Your first-year meltdown over the cranial nerves? Yeah.” He chuckles, warm and rasping. “You called them ‘twelve little traitors’ and threatened to switch to art history.”

Heat crawls up your neck. You’d forgotten he’d been there that night—Caleb dragging him along for a pizza run, finding you knee-deep in flashcards and tears. Hoseok had quietly made tea while Caleb joked about selling your cadaver lab notes on eBay.

“Still think about it sometimes,” you mutter, picking at a loose thread on the blanket. “Art history sounds peaceful. No one dies in art history.”

“No,” he agrees. “But you’d miss this.”

“Miss what? The sleep deprivation? The existential dread?”

“The way your nose scrunches when you’re trying to memorize Brodmann areas.”

Your hands freeze.

He’s looking at you now—not the performative eye contact of someone making conversation, but the kind that pins you in place. Clinical. Observant. Like he’s cataloging your reaction.

“I don’t… scrunch,” you say weakly.

“You do.” His knee nudges the blanket again. Accidentally. Probably. “It’s cute.”

The air conditioner kicks on. You count the vents in the ceiling. Eight. Eight is a safe number. Eight is not the number of times you’ve imagined him saying that word in different contexts.

Cute.

Your lungs forget how to oxygenate.

Hoseok’s phone buzzes. He glances at the screen, then sighs. “Caleb’s running late. Some study group thing.”

“Oh.”

“You hungry?”

“What?”

He’s already standing, rolling his shoulders in a stretch that pulls his hoodie taut across his chest. “I’ll make ramyeon. You like the kimchi kind, right?”

You stare.

He’s in your kitchen now, rummaging through cabinets with the ease of someone who’s done this a hundred times. Which he has—game nights, birthday parties, that one time Caleb got food poisoning and Hoseok stayed over to make sure he didn’t choke on his own vomit.

But this is different.

This is him pulling two bowls from the shelf you can’t reach without a step stool. This is him filling the kettle with exactly 500ml of water because he knows your stove runs hot. This is him glancing over his shoulder to ask, “Soft or firm noodles?” like it’s a question that matters.

“Soft,” you croak.

He nods, turning back to the counter. You watch his hands—capable, unhurried—tearing seasoning packets with his teeth. The steam fogs his glasses when he leans over the pot, and he pushes them up into his hair, revealing the faint scar bisecting his left eyebrow.

Bike accident, he’d said when you’d asked. Twelve years old. Thought he could jump the curb like X-Games.

You’d dreamed about that scar for weeks afterward.

“Here.” He sets the bowl in front of you, chopsticks balanced across the rim. “Careful, it’s hot.”

You murmur thanks, staring at the swirling red broth. He sits closer this time—one cushion away instead of two. His knee brushes yours when he leans forward to blow on his noodles.

Accident, you tell yourself. Always accidents.

The TV murmurs in the background, some nature documentary about deep-sea creatures. Hoseok asks about your classes, and you answer in staccato sentences, hyper-aware of the way his sleeve brushes your arm when he reaches for the water glass.

“—and Dr. Park’s lectures are killing me,” you hear yourself say, chopsticks hovering over uneaten noodles. “She goes so fast, and the diagrams…”

“Want me to quiz you?”

Your head snaps up. “What?”

He shrugs, but there’s a glint in his eye—the same one he gets when Caleb challenges him to Mario Kart. “I handled multiple neuro cases last year. Could walk you through the basal ganglia.”

“You’re… busy.”

“Not really.” He sets his bowl aside, rolling up his sleeves. Your pulse thrums at the reveal of his forearms—dusting of dark hair, veins mapping paths you shouldn’t be tracing. “C’mon. Hit me with your worst.”

It’s a mistake.

You know it’s a mistake even as you fetch your notes, even as he pats the space beside him. Even as his shoulder presses against yours, radiating heat through three layers of fabric.

“Okay.” He scans your color-coded flashcards. “First question. What structure connects the hippocampus to the mammillary bodies?”

“F-fornix,” you stammer.

“Good.” His finger taps the next card. “Main neurotransmitter in the substantia nigra?”

“Dopamine.”

“And loss of dopamine here causes…”

“Parkinson’s.”

“Nice.” He shifts, knee pressing into yours. “Now point to your amygdala.”

You freeze. “What?”

“On your head. Show me where it is.”

“I—it’s—it’s medial temporal lobe, so…” You hover a hand near your right temple, acutely aware of his gaze tracking the movement. “Here? Ish?”

His chuckle vibrates through the couch. “Ish.”

“Shut up, I’m trying.”

“Try harder.”

You glare at him. He grins back, all white teeth and crinkled eyes, and something in your chest cracks open.

“Medial,” he says softly, reaching over to adjust your hand. His fingers graze your wrist—brief, clinical, devastating. “Deeper. Protected.”

You stop breathing.

The documentary narrator drones on about bioluminescent jellyfish. Hoseok’s thumb brushes your pulse point.

Accident.

Always accidents.

Then his phone rings.

You jerk back like you’ve been shocked. Hoseok answers with a calm, “Yeah?” while you stare at your knees, pretending your entire nervous system isn’t short-circuiting.

“Caleb’s downstairs,” he says, standing. “Forgot his keys again.”

“Oh.”

“You okay?”

“Fine.”

He pauses, head tilted. For a horrifying moment, you think he’ll call you out—on the shaking hands, the flushed cheeks, the way you’re clinging to a pillow like it’s a life raft.

But he just smiles. Gentle. Endless. “Thanks for keeping me company.”

The door clicks shut behind him.

You collapse sideways onto the couch, pressing your face into the cushion that still holds the warmth of him. Somewhere in the hallway, the elevator dings. Laughter floats up from the parking lot.

Four years.

Four years of this.

Four years of almosts and maybes and don’t be stupid, he’s just being nice.

Your phone buzzes. A text from Caleb:

𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫: 𝙷𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚘𝚔 𝚜𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚍𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐?? 𝙽𝚎𝚛𝚍. 𝚆𝚎’𝚛𝚎 𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚙𝚒𝚣𝚣𝚊. 𝚆𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎?

You type no with trembling fingers.

The couch creaks as you curl into yourself, knees to chest, forehead pressed against the spot where his ring had left a faint indentation in the upholstery.

Deeper.

Protected.

Somewhere in your medial temporal lobe, dopamine fires for all the wrong reasons.

→ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @cannotalwaysbenight @livingformintyoongi @itstoastsworld @somehowukook

no reposts, translations, or adaptations

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altacctforastarion · 2 months ago

Note

Okay, hear me out… Astarion with a Druid tav who has a whole “all life is sacred” mentality and had difficulty with the idea of taking someone’s life unless forced, until… they hear about what Cazador did and they are fully ready to rock his shit, their own morals be damned!!!

Hey @psychedelic—spaceman (did it tag you? I don’t think it did, ugh) thanks for requesting!

I did this one in hc format, hope that’s cool

Warnings: Cazador, Astarion’s trauma mentioned, sfw but still 18+, mdni, my works, my blog, and anything that has to do with me is strictly for adults.

Tag list: @astari0nsju1ceb0x @lotus-ignis @obsessionprofessional

- “I’m not saying I won’t kill them, I’m just saying I wish we didn’t have to! All life is sacred, and I don’t enjoy slaughtering those who oppose us.” You say defensively. Astarion stands before you, angry, having watched you try to talk your way out of a fight with the goblins that threatened the grove.

- “You didn’t have to kill them then, you could have simply told their drow where the grove was and then we could have looted what remained. Maybe kidnapped someone for information, but I could have handled that and you could have pretended it didn’t happen.”

- “Then the innocent people from the grove would have died-“

- “Innocent? That Druid nearly killed a child. That’s far from innocent. However maybe you could take a note from her book and stop getting so worked up over a few worthless lives.” He snaps at you, his annoyance bubbling over after your minutes long debate.

- “They weren’t worthless! They were living creatures and they mattered! I hated killing them, and I hate to think of how many more I’ll have to kill. Just fuck off, Astarion.” You’re anger fades into disappointment with your companion, and you turn away from him, walking back to camp in silence and ignoring when he jogs to catch up with you.

- the two of you stop talking unless it’s during combat or giving eachother/the group warnings, until one night he approaches you.

- “I shouldn’t have been so cold. I’m sorry. Maybe I’ve always been like this, maybe it was what happened to me if I wasn’t, I don’t know. And I don’t understand you at all, but I don’t have to, we need each other, and we might as well try to get along. Please forgive me.”

-He doesn’t make eye contact, his words have lost their dramatic flair, and in an effort to get a better understanding of him, you tentatively ask him about what he’d said, “What happened to you if you weren’t? What do you mean?”

- Astarion looks at you, surprised, “Oh, I suppose I haven’t told you much at all about Cazador, have I? He had orders, and as a spawn, you must obey your master. It’s not always a choice, sometimes he controls your body, other times he just sends you out to do his bidding. It’s not really a choice then either though, you either obey or you’re tortured. Believe me, you obey eventually, even if you hate what you must do. I did what I had to do to survive.”

- “I’m sorry, I had no idea it was like that, I shouldn’t have judged you so harshly. If it helps, I’ll help you kill him. That’s a man who deserves death.”

- “Kill him? You want to kill him? What happened to all life has a meaning?” He’s flabbergasted, looking at you like you’ve grown an extra head or two.

- “Not a life that has been spent torturing and murdering. He lost his meaning when he forced you, and the others, I presume, to do his awful bidding. He will die, and I will help, if you’ll allow it.”

- “Fine, if you’re so desperate to turn to bloodshed, how could I deny you. Maybe I’ll even help you plant something, or whatever you druids do. Though I don’t like to get dirty, maybe I tell you what to plant, and you plant it and I tell you that it looks nice. I’m not a fan of flowers though, perhaps those plants that catch flies? Those seem fun.” He rambled a bit, seeming almost giddy, and you can’t help but to play along.

- “Sure, when we kill Cazador, and whatever else, and rid ourselves of these tadpoles, I’ll let you pick out some plants for me. Thank you, Astarion. They’re called Venus fly traps, by the way, and I’d rather not have insects constantly dying around me, maybe pick something else?”

- “Ah yes! All life is precious extends to insects apparently, the more you know. Fine, fine, I don’t know, you’ll have to give me a list of Druid safe plants and I’ll pick from that, if you’re going to be so difficult about accepting my help.”

—

-Your “yard” in the Underdark isn’t viable for plants, so instead you take to bringing them home, dedicating a whole room to various plants you can keep alive, your own little place to reconnect with nature when you don’t have the time or energy to leave your spawn filled city.

- Astarion brings you little plants sometimes, little splashes of color that you can place around the home, in your shared space instead of the area you keep mostly to yourself (not that he minds, if he enters you will put him to work, and he gets dirty enough dealing with the livestock.)

- He gets you a cat, when he finds you sad one day, wishing you had more animals around to take care of and love. Saying he can’t deal with anything filthy, but cats clean themselves and keep the bed warm when you’re gone, which isn’t as often as it was when you first started building and planning in the Underdark.

- He’s not always kind to the other spawn, at least not at first, it’s hard for him, seeing versions of himself in them, knowing what he gave up even if he doesn’t regret his choice, but he adores the kindness you give them, even if it means you scold him when the two of you return home. He loves the care you have for life, sometimes he even feels like he might have gotten a touch kinder, a little bit softer. But maybe that’s just the cat on his lap and your head on his shoulder. Probably not though

#bg3 astarion #spawn astarion #astarion x reader #astarion #astarion fanfic #spawn astarion fanfic #bg3 fanfic #astarion headcanon #astarion fluff

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deanstead · 1 year ago

Text

With Spencer

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Requested: no

Summary: Y/N deals with the wave of anxiety that hits her after Spencer's conference

Word Count: 900+

Tags/Warnings: established relationship, anxiety, insecurities

A/N: Had to get this out of my head so I wrote this on a whim, then it sat in my drafts because I was worried it sucked (still am) but @halsteadlover once again threatened to kick my ass (because that's how we communicate love) so I'm posting this. Please do not shoot me if it sucks lol.

SPENCER REID MASTERLIST

You stood off to the side of the spacious conference hall, quietly watching as people approached him after his spotlight presentation.

You’d have been able to spot him anywhere he was standing even if the place was twice as crowded as it was now.

There seemed to be something that had drawn you to him almost automatically since the first time you met, and he seemed to emit a glow that only you could see.

Spencer raised his head slightly, his eyes locking onto yours effortlessly, and he smiled softly at you before his attention was drawn back to the person next to him.

You couldn’t help the small smile that flit across your face, accompanied by the familiar flutter in your gut that only Spencer managed to make you feel.

At the same time, a darker swirl of insecurity seemed to rise up to meet the innocent butterfly flitting around in your stomach.

It wasn’t new. This feeling of being inadequate next to Spencer, the feeling that he was made for greater things and that maybe somehow you were holding him back. It was totally irrational but the thought still greeted you once in a while. Sometimes it reared its head when he made a joke that you didn’t totally get or when he started rambling and you lost him halfway. But even if that wasn’t it, personally watching him stand up in front of an entire conference hall and deliver facts and research you didn’t fully grasp would definitely do it.

You didn’t know how long you stood there, lost in your thoughts while trying to keep the dark swirl of anxiety as controlled as possible.

“Sorry, I didn’t expect to take so long.”

His voice pulled you out of your thoughts and you smiled back at him, although the look in his eyes told you that he knew something was up.

Spencer didn’t ask, merely smiling as he let you lead the way out of the hall and to the car.

It was about halfway through the car ride back that you realized you’d been a little too quiet. But that realization was too late.

“You okay?” Spencer asked quietly.

You looked up into his hazel eyes and tried a smile.

Spencer didn’t say anything, his eyes flicking back to the road before he made a deviation in his route and you raised your eyebrows.

“Caffeine replenish.” He said quietly, as if he could read your mind.

You watched Spencer as he stood at the counter, letting the intrusive thought of ‘maybe coming with him wasn’t such a great idea’ creep into your head.

When Spencer had asked if you wanted to come, all you’d thought about had been how happy you were that he wanted you there, and about how you’d take any extra time you could spend with Spencer before work whisked him away again.

You wondered if you would still have come if you’d known how you would be feeling now. Yet, something told you that you would have. Nothing would have deterred you from time with Spencer.

That thought was merely reinforced when Spencer slid into the seat opposite you, armed with your favorite coffee order.

After a short silence, Spencer broke it. "You okay?"

You nodded, then you shrugged realizing how futile it was to try to hide your emotions from your profiler boyfriend who was sitting opposite you.

You looked back down at your coffee, and sighed.

“You were amazing today, Spence. Really amazing.”

Spencer smiled back at you, the shy smile that seemed to be reserved just for you and you felt your heart flutter once again.

“You are amazing. And I just… well, I’m not.”

Spencer blinked back at you.

“Actually, recent studies have shown that couples are indeed more likely to be similar than different, but it also shows that other than similarities, complementary skills and features are just as important…” He paused mid-sentence. “I’m rambling again, right?”

You couldn’t help but crack a smile.

“What I’m saying is, you are amazing.” Spencer concluded.

Now, it was your turn to blink back at him.

“You have no idea. I can explain a lot of things, Y/N. But I can’t explain this. I can’t explain why we fit together like the last two pieces of a puzzle that didn’t seem likely but are actually the only two pieces that are supposed to be together. We just are.”

You ran your finger across the rim of your mug and Spencer reached out for your hand, taking it and playing gently with your fingers, almost like a habit.

“We are meant to be, crazy as that sounds coming from me.” Spencer laughed as he said it.

You let out a small chuckle.

“So don’t…” Spencer said, his voice dropping lower just slightly as his voice trailed off.

You glanced up now, unable to miss the crack of slight insecurity in his voice and you realized he was just as scared as you were.

Spencer smiled. "See? Similarity."

Sliding your hand out of his grasp momentarily, you made your way to sit by him in the small corner booth, sitting as close as you could before you slipped your hand back into his.

“I could never.” You whispered, in response to the sentence Spencer hadn't been able to bring himself to finish.

Spencer didn’t answer, just leaned toward you, taking your face gently in his hands as he pressed his lips against yours, almost like he was sealing a deal. You smiled against his touch, pulling closer to him, before you nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck.

The dark swirl was still there in the pit of your stomach, although it was slightly muted, but somehow but it didn’t matter because Spencer was here as well.

And as long as you had Spencer, the dark swirl had nothing on you.

THANK YOU FOR READING!! PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU THOUGHT OF THIS!!

If you want to support me, buy me a coffee!

#resa.fics #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer x reader #reid x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fic #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n

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thefoxholecast · 1 year ago

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The Original Foxhole Court Extra Content (Archived from Nora Sakavic’s Tumblr)

We copied the following text directly from the pre-2024 version of the Foxhole Court Extra Content page on Nora Sakavic’s Tumblr blog (korakos.tumblr.com/fox). In March 2024, she did “some spring cleaning” by shortening the list of links and deleting/hiding old posts. The links in this copy lead to archived snapshots of the old posts on the Internet Archive Wayback Machine.

Some of the links are broken. If you have copies of these posts, please let us know so we can fill in missing content!

Because Tumblr only allows up to 100 links per post, we're unable to replicate the full list here. View the full list of links on our blog here: thefoxholecast.tumblr.com/FoxArchive

The Foxhole Court

ETA 2023: most of the posts here are from 2013-2015. Some of them overlap with older drafts. Some answers have evolved over time, even if they haven’t been updated here. Most I haven’t changed my mind on, for better or worse. Take ‘em or leave ‘em, and good luck making sense of ‘em around all the drunk rambling and detours. One day if I have the energy I’ll just sort it into a coherent reference.

Two sections here: the questions submitted by tumblr users, and a miscellaneous collection of stories & factoids pulled from the oft-neglected blog. The questions aren’t in any particular order, though I did try to organize them by subject matter. Ish. Once the dust is settled a bit I’ll try to find a better sorting system. Also, the tumblr tag I use for questions is http://korakos.tumblr.com/tagged/foxhole-court-questions-and-spoilers

Lots of spoilers for The Foxhole Court ahead!

Preface: Why are Asks disabled in 2016?

COURTING MADNESS

—Exy Rules & Regulations

—Exy: A History of the Sport

—Palmetto State University

—The original “What Happens After King’s Men” post

—SON NEFES, the cousins’ freshman year through Renee’s eyes

——One . Two . Three . Four . Five

—Nicky Hemmick

—Seth Gordon

—Aaron Minyard

—Matt Boyd

—Kevin & Andrew

—David Wymack & the Monsters

—Wymack & Andrew re: Neil

—Dan Wilds is recruited to the Foxes *

—Allison through Dan & Renee’s eyes *

——pulled from an abandoned, unfinished book about the Foxes’ women

TUMBLR

NEIL

—Neil’s life on the run

—Do they ever celebrate Neil’s birthday?

—What if Neil told the truth earlier?

—Neil through the Foxes’ eyes

—Neil through Ichirou’s eyes

—Neil’s looks post-book and relationship with his reflection

—Does Neil ever talk to Bee?

—Neil’s millions

—Neil’s fight training

—Who’s Neil closest to beside Andrew

—Neil’s fashion style

—Cellphone ringtone

—Christmas/birthday presents for Foxes

—Does Neil ever cry?

—Neil’s lonely fifth year

—When Neil’s overwhelmed

—Does Neil crush on his teammates?

—Neil & Ichirou’s intimidation

ANDREW

—Andrew’s sober look at his teammates & Neil

—How did Andrew react to Cass’s letter?

—Andrew’s medication and the follow-up

—Has Abby seen Andrew’s scars?

—Andrew & Mama Bee

—Andrew & Roland

—How far has Andrew willingly gone?

—What animal figurine did Andrew buy Betsy?

—Andrew’s eye color

—Andrew’s opinion of the cats

—What’d Andrew say to Nicky in TKM?

—Andrew’s honest opinion of Exy

—Andrew’s thoughts on Neil’s binder

—Andrew and his sexuality

—If Andrew had met Neil’s mother

—Andrew’s thoughts on Neil’s sexuality

—Andrew’s fondest memory of Neil

—Andrew’s aforementioned withdrawal

—Do you think Andrew is really really really awesome?

—Proust and Andrew

—What happens to Proust?

—Andrew’s reaction to Neil’s bday blood

—Andrew on Neil eventually changing out

—Does Andrew get grumpy?

—Does Andrew get less dead inside?

—Does Andrew call Neil by his name?

—Why give the Foxes crackers?

—Andrew’s first choices in winning a fight

—Who liked knives?

—What got chopped from Drake’s arc?

—Does Andrew get off thinking about Neil?

—Post Andrew & Bee’s side story?

—When did Andrew start thinking Neil was interesting?

—Any other words he can’t stand?

—What does he think about nicknames?

—Explain Andrew’s fatal disease in the comic version

—Andrew’s canon mental state

—How did Andrew not know about Tilda’s abuse?

—Why punch Neil for “Sorry”, and when Andrew is sick

—What’s with Andrew and promises

—Andrew’s thoughts on Roland’s premature confession

—Andrew’s arrest

—Wanting nothing vs not wanting anything

—Why was Andrew laughing after Drake?

—If Neil had chosen Dan & Matt over Andrew

NEIL & ANDREW

—The other 10%

—Which teammate caught on first?

—Do Andrew & Neil go on dates?

—When did they first hold hands?

—When did Andrew clue in?

—Exites self-censure

—Betsy’s & Aaron’s reactions to the news

—Roland’s opinion of things

—The breaking point

—Who tops?

—On tying people up

—Their domestic life aka Sir Fat Cat

—I love you

—Andrew and the bed issue

—Nightmares

—Do they learn to talk to each other?

—Blaming Neil for Drake

—Andrew comforting Neil?

—Neil’s fondest memory of Andrew

—Neil getting Andrew off for the first time

—Neil seeing Andrew naked

—Neil & the sex how-to

—How was the first time

—Where’d it happen?

—When was their first hug?

—“I won’t let you let me be”

—Their roadtrips

—Neil waking Andrew up

—Andrew’s real smile

—How does Andrew show appreciation for Neil

—Their happiest moments

—Does Neil ever make Andrew laugh?

—Does Andrew take comfort in Neil

—Does Andrew get protective/possessive?

—Doesn’t Neil crave affection?

—Andrew re: Neil’s panic attacks

—Media reaction to Andrew/Neil

—Further reaction to Andrew/Neil

—On “accidentally” sitting in laps

—What if Andrew died?

—What if Neil died?

—Reaction to getting hit on by others

—Do they celebrate anniversaries?

—The first time Neil pushes Andrew down

FOXES

—How tall are the Foxes?

—Why is everyone so short?

—Where did their names come from?

—What were their majors?

—What do the Foxes look like?

—What are their Hogwarts houses?

—Reaction to the kidnapping

—Do Neil & Renee become friends?

—What did Allison do with Seth’s urn?

—Nicky’s evolution over the drafts

—Do the Foxes get their skiing trip?

—Does Andrew know Nicky kissed Neil?

—When did Aaron & Katelyn fall for each other?

—How did Andrew and Wymack end up handcuffed together?

—Kevin’s favorite things

—Kevin and Andrew’s on-court kerfuffle

—Dan’s haircut

—Dan & Matt’s relationship

—Dan & Matt’s first kiss

—Matt bouncing back from Columbia

—Matt rooming with the monsters

—The other what-if OT3 aka D/M/N and the dynamic

—Do Allison and Renee have the hots for each other?

—Matt forgiving his father

—Any mistletoe shenanigans?

—Thanksgiving and the Foxes

—Kevin’s best friend

—Janie Smalls

—How did Kevin and Thea meet?

—Foxes’ favorite ice cream flavors

—Kevin & Andrew’s on-court argument

—Foxes’ taste in music

—Kevin’s middle name & drink of choice

—Do Kevin & Neil want to kiss?

—Which Fox would Kevin kiss, then?

—Kevin’s best non-Exy memory

—Allison’s three bets

—Why is Allison’s middle name Jamaica

—Kevin, Andrew, and Neil staying friends

—“Joan of Exy”?

—Can the Foxes sing?

—Some of the Foxes’ previous bets

—Do Nicky & Allison become friends?

—Are Foxes based on RL people?

—Nicky when Neil asks about friendship

—Dan & the monsters in Columbia

—What if Kevin was killed?

—Renee and her near-death experiences

—More background available on Renee?

—Why doesn’t Aaron let the Foxes in?

—Team’s reaction to Drake, Andrew’s reaction to being outed

—Andrew & Aaron’s time with Tilda

—Does Aaron reconcile with Andrew over Tilda?

—Nicky & his parents after Drake

—Foxes thoughts in Baltimore

FOXES POST-TKM

—The Pro Teams

—The Weddings

—Neil as the Best Man?

—Kevin after TKM —Thea, Jean, Foxes, and Riko

—How does Kevin & Wymack’s relationship evolve?

—Renee after TKM

—Nicky after TKM

—Aaron after TKM

—Allison after TKM

—Dan & Matt after TKM

—Dan and the US Court

—Any pro-period scandals?

—Andrew & Neil’s relationship with their team

—Would Neil hold Matt’s children?

—Neil & babysitting the Foxes’ kids

—Which Fox’s child would curse first

THE FUTURE FOXES

—Who is Robin Cross?

—Neil and Jack

—Andrew’s reaction to Neil punching Jack

—Foxes’ reaction to Neil punching

—Kevin and Jack

—Neil’s new recruit

—Andrew and Jack

RIVALS

—Who is Riko Moriyama?

—Riko & Kevin’s evolving relationship

—More about Riko & Kevin’s past

—How did Riko break Kevin’s hand

—Riko’s brutality toward Jean

—Any draft where Riko wasn’t killed?

—Were Riko, Kevin, and Jean involved sexually?

—Does the Fox-Trojan rematch happen? Also how do the Trojans & Jean get along?

—Do Alvarez & Laila (Trojans) have backstories?

—Thea’s number & thoughts on Raven brutality

THE “ADULTS”

—Kayleigh Day & David Wymack

—Abby Winfield & David Wymack

—Wymack’s parents

—Did Wymack cry during the trilogy?

—Did Kayleigh know about the Moriyamas?

Nora & the Foxes

—Fancast and Andrew

—Changing opinion of Foxes over the years

—Bits of the scrapped K/N/A threesome here and here

—The KxAxN AU where Kevin died

—Will there be a sequel?

—What inspired you to develop Exy?

—Fox fanfictions, collected by coldsaturn

—Why a pseudonym?

—What came first, characters or story?

—Were you the artist of the comic version?

—What did the comic-Foxes look like?

—What do you do when you’re not writing?

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typicalopposite · 7 months ago

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tease tidbit (turned tadton... lol) tuesday

thank you so so sooo much @theotherbuckley & @bangpop91 for the tag <3

take me back - Tommy amnesia fic (from ch 2)

Tommy nods, finally understanding what happened. Except–

Except… he doesn’t actually understand at all.

Tommy thinks about his gift to Buck– the Lakers tickets. Amazing tickets to an amazing game– a game that Tommy knows Buck doesn’t even care about. Tickets he hadn’t even bought. Tickets he had won and decided to use as a ploy for a deeper purpose.

Tommy thinks about Buck telling him that he had made the joke ‘he could even take Eddie instead… and die’. Such a silly, teetering into being a selfish request, in hindsight. But then he thinks about the reason he didn’t just want to be the one with Buck– with Evan… it was still Evan then– at the game, he had to be; and it actually had nothing to do with basketball at all.

After Billy Boils eulogy they went back to Tommy’s house to spend the rest of their day off tangled up in each other… in every way imaginable. At some point they migrated to the couch, Tommy fully prepared to watch hours of documentaries– paused periodically so Evan could load on even more information than was already being given. “No you pick,” Evan had said, then went on to insist Tommy pick out the cheesiest, sappiest, most rom-comiest (“That one hundred percent is a real word, Thomas… thank you very much.”) flicks for them to watch together as payment for Tommy not even thinking twice about going along to Billy’s makeshift funeral.

It was during one such movie that a couple were at a football game– it was on the tail end of a big fight, near break up, and she was only there because he said his friend couldn’t make it and he didn’t want the extra ticket to go to waste. The girl clearly only agreed to go because she seriously cares for the guy, but the “date” felt tone deaf… He was having the time of his life, and she was just there. Tommy spent the majority of the scene with his face scrunched up in disgust. It all came to a head when she got a drink and nachos spilled on her by some fans jumping up to cheer. She was humiliated and started to leave but the guy begged her to stay for half time. “You won’t regret it, I promise,” he said.

In true romcom fashion… he was not wrong. To the girl’s – and Tommy and Evan’s as well– surprise during the half-time game the guy had set it up to go out on the field and propose to her. By the end of the scene Tommy had teared up, which he had expected to do– it was Evan sniffling next to him that surprised him.

“I mean, come on, think about it Tommy…” he cried. “The whole movie the guy went above and beyond for her, but he was afraid of commitment so everything he did always seemed to fall short. But she loves him so she sticks around… and he finally realized she was it for him when he almost lost her… so he decides to step out of his comfort zone and tell her in what had to have been the most terrifying way because, he's in front of all theses people... what if she says no, you know?” he rambled on and on, wiping tears away as they steadily fell… and Tommy could hardly focus on what he was saying because all he could think about was how much it reminded him of them.

Tommy sits in the awkward silence across from Ev- Buck– it’s Buck now, he guesses… and thinks of what he was planning on doing at that Laker’s game. He had been falling in love for those past six months– reckless and impulsive as it may have been of him to do, he couldn’t help it. He had to tell him– he was going to tell him… He had called in and ordered a personalized spot on the Kiss Cam, he had a whole speech ready (written out and everything)… he was even planning on ditching the rest of the game after to take Evan home and show him just how in love he was.

Tommy wonders if that fire Evan– or Buck… no back to Evan– had ignited in him still burned a year later. Before his amnesia, did he still love Evan like his life depended on it? Was he still the person he thought about before he went to bed, and when he first woke up… Was he still very much the center of Tommy’s entire world?

He wonders if he ever tried to move on.

Mostly he wonders what could have changed his mind so drastically from their anniversary date to the day they broke up, because the Tommy that Tommy is in his mind at the moment… would not have ended things just because Evan— Buck— whatever he is to be called now— asked him to move in.

Tommy’s heart aches to say this out loud, instead of sitting quietly and letting it go unknown. A part of him wants to spill that whatever he was thinking back then he isn’t thinking now and if he could go back and do it all again they would be spending a different kind of anniversary— a year of living together (preferably in Tommy’s house and not squeezed into that tiny loft… but hell, just to be together… he might have made the sacrifice).

But a year has passed. Buck– His Evan has moved on. Tommy has no right to say anything now… so he doesn’t.

“I- I should go,” Buck says, more tears slipping down his cheeks. Tommy wants to stop him, to say he doesn’t want to part ways on painful terms… again. He doesn’t speak… he doesn’t move.

Evan stands up and sulks out of the kitchen, and Tommy’s skin is crawling with the want to chase after him. Get up, get up, get up!! His heart is starting to pound so loud he almost doesn’t hear when Evan opens the door. He’s almost out of time…

“Wait!”

<3<3<3

throwing out some no pressure tags for those who want to join in and those just following along! @30somethingautisticteacher @sunnywithachanceofbi @nine-one-wanton @judymarch15 @herrmannhalsteadproduction

@bidisasterevankinard @onthewaytosomewhere @kinardsevan @beanarie @quintessenceofdust88

@unhingedangstaddict @hyperfocusthusly @lavenderleahy @sierrarreads @rubydaiquiri

@somethingaboutfirefly @silversky9 @marvelousbuckley @leashybebes @saibowtie

@portinastorm @ladyeyrewrites @mmso-notlikethat @a-mel0n @rdng1230

@fenrirscarsback

(and if you want to be added or removed just let me know <3 the fic wont be posted until i finish it! but I am making pretty good progress!)

#bucktommy #tommy kinard #evan buckley #bucktommy fix it #fix it fic #tease tidbit tuesday #amnesia

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atimeofyourlife · 1 year ago

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A coffee delivery

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt: coffee shop/ tattoo au | rated: t | wc: 906 | tags: coffee shop au, tattoo au, tattoo artist eddie munson, barista steve harrington, pre steddie

Steve had something of a love/hate relationship with the morning shift at the coffee shop. On one hand, it meant he didn't have to take part in the evening cleaning, and he had most of the afternoon free. But on the other hand, it meant he had to be up early and had to deal with opening and set up. Rude customers occurred at any time of the day. In the morning it was the customers angry that they weren't willing to open thirty minutes before their scheduled time. In the evening, they were angry that they didn't stay open over an hour past their scheduled closing time. There were two main things that made up for the rude customers. Being an independent coffee shop over a chain meant they didn't have a corporate office to answer to, so the boss allowed them to talk back and deny service to any customer that was too rude. And the nice customers generally outweighed the bad ones, the ones who would tip generously, who were always polite and kind, who would stick up for them against the bad ones.

But Steve's favorite part of the job was the guy who worked in the tattoo store a few buildings down on the other side of the street. A guy named Eddie, who would come in five days a week without fail. Always ordering a large caramel latte with two extra shots. Ten, maybe fifteen minutes before the tattoo shop was due to open. His name was Eddie, and he always made the time to flirt with Steve when he picked up his coffee.

One morning, Steve was just waiting for Eddie to come in for his coffee. It had passed the normal time he would come in, and Steve felt a little worried. Eddie had, as usual, said the day before that he would be back the next day. Steve was staring out the window, on a lookout for Eddie. Unable to keep himself from getting anxious as the time ticked by. But then, about thirty minutes after Eddie would have usually walked in, Steve saw him run down the street, obviously late to open the tattoo store. He let out a sigh of relief, but couldn't help feeling disappointed that he wouldn't get to see Eddie.

"Look, if you're that upset that you don't get to see and flirt with him today, just make the coffee and take it over to him." Robin said from beside Steve. "We're not busy, and the lunchtime rush won't start for at least thirty minutes. Just don't leave me alone too long."

"Robin, you're the best." He hugged her quickly, before turning to start making the drink.

"Just write your number on it, or at least try to get a date. It's getting painful watching you both flirt everyday."

Steve ignored her, writing Eddie's name on the to go cup, and finishing the drink. He was about to walk out from behind the counter, but stopped and one of the cookies that Eddie sometimes ordered. He was nervous as he left the store and crossed the street. Unsure if this was crossing a line, or if Eddie would think Steve was stalking him.

Steve pushed open the door to the tattoo shop, and could see Eddie cleaning furiously.

"Hi, sorry. I'm running a touch late, so if-" Eddie started, trailing off as he turned around and saw Steve.

"Er, hi. You didn't come in this morning, and I saw you run past and it was obvious you were late. So I thought I would bring you coffee and a cookie?" Steve replied, holding them out to Eddie.

"Oh. Thanks, Stevie. You are a life saver. My van crapped out this morning so I had to take the bus, but it was running late, and part of the road was closed. And I had an appointment booked for opening, and I was already late. But the client hasn't shown up yet." Eddie rambled, taking the coffee and the cookie from Steve, instantly taking a drink of the coffee.

"Sounds like a real rough morning. I hope I managed to help make it a little better for you."

"You made it so much better. You are an angel among men right now."

Steve found himself getting lost in Eddie's eyes, and jumped as he heard the bell over the door signaling someone coming in.

"I've got an appointment this morning? I know I'm a bit late for it, I did try to call-" The customer said.

"Of course. I just need a few more minutes to finish setting up." Eddie replied. He placed the coffee down on a desk and grabbed a business card, scribbling something down on it, before handing it to Steve. "I'm really going to have to get on, but I'll see you around, Steve."

"Uh, yeah. I'm going to have to get back before Robin tries to kill me for taking too long." Steve waved, before leaving and heading back to the coffee shop.

"What's that?" Robin asked as soon as Steve rejoined her, her eyes focused on the card in Steve's hand.

"Eddie gave it to me." Steve replied, turning it over and looking at what Eddie had written on it for the first time. It was a phone number tagged with the words 'call me' and a smiley face. Yeah, the trip across the street had been successful.

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #pre steddie #coffee shop au #steddieholidaydrabbles #atimeofyourwrites

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thesummerstorms · 14 days ago

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OC WARDROBE

Tagged by @notyourmamasdeerbat. Thank you! I spent way too long on Pinterest and Canva, but I had a blast doing this!

RULES: Post pictures of your character's wardrobe and put your OC in the center. It can be other people wearing the clothing, it's just a moodboard.**

** technically Arsinoë is in the center of her row; that counts right? I just couldn't get the layout to work well. karma for the extra pictures, I guess lol

also, I don't think you have to... or are supposed to... explain everything, I am just incapable of not rambling

Top Row: Formal Crow parties/funerals/what have you as someone important to the Fifth Talon OR as the partner/fiance/whatever of the new First Talon.

First Three From the Left (Middle Row): Casual Crow business in Treviso or Salle, so she's representing the House, but not a contract and combat isn't expected.

First Three From the Right (Middle Row): Casual and sleep wear around the Lighthouse/ her old apartment in Salle/etc.

Bottom Row: Arsinoë wears something a half step in between mage robes and the existing Crow leathers, likely with Viago's dramatic wing-shaped cape, but Pinterest options were limited.

Genuinely not sure who's done this or who is interested in tag games, so feel free to ignore this, but I'm tagging @basedonconjecture, @pwney, @rookinthecrownest, and @beachhotdog. If you follow me or we're mutual and I didn't list you, please do it and tag me and then I will also know in the future I can put you on the tag list. 💜

I rambled waaayyyy too much about why I chose the things beneath the cut.

Generally, whatever Lucanis says about Antiva's one requirement being to have style, I don't think Arsinoë inherited any naturally. She's wears her mage leathers a lot, and outside of those, I think she's a "comfy shirt + pants in a Crow color scheme" person. Sometimes with a fun cape, but she isn't going to willingly deal with something like Lucanis's layering on the regular. That said, she does genuinely love the Crow blue and purple color scheme to death, and she's very fond of jewelry. Specifically she collects enchanted rings with different benefits for her magic or combat or what have you, and snake or crow themed jewelry to mark her as de Riva. (Snakes because of the poisoner thing, but it works out when she starts dating Neve.) The signet ring is actually a semi-official mark of authority/protection from Viago. When she does have to dress formally, I think Arsinoë tries very, very hard to strike a balance between looking like someone who is a senior House de Riva Crow/close to the Talon and thus "important" enough not to mess with casually, but also someone who is clearly NOT in the House leadership and is appropriately subordinate to her Talon. Hence she has nice fabrics and just-dramatic-enough shapes to blend in, but the dresses are still monochrome, have no embroidery, etc. I also think whether formal or casual, Arsinoë uses a bit of misdirection by using things like the many undone buttons on the in game casual wear or the open back and cut outs on the black dress in order to seem daring and exposed while distracting from how much skin she's not showing or the gloves she won't remove or how many weapons/poisons she's hiding. The scars on her upper chest/breasts (from the in game scar set; I didn't even make them up) and back add to the distraction factor.

#arsinoë de riva #rook de riva

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cryinginmyroomsposts · 2 years ago

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Easy - Seo Changbin

Pairing: Seo Changbin x Reader

tags: fluff, just pure fluff, boyfriend Changbin, oc overthinks a bit, subtle mentions of trauma ig, oc gender not specifically mentioned

a/n: not proofread, kind of a ramble, desperately needed to write cuz grad school has been kicking my ass

masterlist

The pitter-patter of rain keeps you awake through the night. You stare at the ceiling and then turn around to see your boyfriend lying on the bed next to you.

It was wild how quickly life can change. Just less than a month ago you were sleeping on this bed, in your new apartment, alone and cold. And now there is this beautiful boy right next to you, the warmth emanating from him lighting up your soul from within.

Changbin had come into your life like a whirlwind that calmed your soul. One moment he was a stranger giving you a kind smile when you dropped your books on the floor of the library staircase and the next he was a friend holding your hand through a tough evening. And now he is yours, in every waking and sleeping moment.

You watch as he breathes peacefully in his sleep, his chest rising and falling calmly. You trace mindless patterns on his arm that lay across your midriff. He stirs in his sleep and holds you tighter.

A year ago you would've absolutely despised the ides of going to sleep with someone because you're hyper independent brain could never fathom the idea of letting yourself be this vulnerable and close to someone. Your bed had been your refuge for a decade, no matter how incorrigible life became you could always come back to your bed and breathe peacefully in the comfort of the dark and let the acidic feelings out into the ever-absorbant pillows.

As you stare into the peaceful sleeping face of Changbin you realise that you haven't struggled to breathe in a while now. You could breathe freely around him, even on days when the whole world was weighing down on you. And especially on the days you got exhausted of him and yourself... you could still breathe freely and express yourself around him.

It all seemed like magic. Yet it felt like the most normal order of things. For this exuberant, softie of a boy to come into your life and turn it around the way the leaves turned orange all around you. During the summer you had taken all measures to spend the winter in your own comfortable company- even buying extra heating to stay warm as the snow falls. And yet, months later, you can see the snow fall out the window and warmth spreads around you from Changbin's soft breaths.

Changbin made it seem like loving you was the easiest thing in his life and for once you had someone to lean on without feeling inferior.

He was everything you didn't know you needed. He matched your loudness, played along with your childishness, and held you softly like a rare flower blooming only under his touch. Changbin showed his love loudly, proudly and ardently but understood that you express it in the little things. Sure the understanding hadn't come in a day, it had taken work.

You still remember the hurt on his face as he watched you ruin yourself because it felt impossible for you to let yourself be loved or taken care of. You remember the tears that rolled down your eyes on a chilly fall night as the both of you let your frustration at work get into your relationship.

It is that very pain, those salty tears and nights of apologies and condolences that made this very moment rewarding. Without the bad times, you would never know how valuable having Changbin by your side is.

"Slee-eep... babbyyyy..."

Your very erratic train of thought has been interrupted by a low grumble from your boyfriend. You titled your head away from the window on the other side to face him. His eyes were closed but you knew he was awake by the way he scrunched his nose and immediately snuggled into your neck when you turned to face him.

"Huh?" You mumbled back soft enough for him to hear but not wake up entirely.

Changbin's pretty eyes opened up slightly and he smiled softly at your face before leaning in and leaving a soft peck on your forehead (that never got old) before pulling back to see you.

"It's too early for your brain to be whirring." His morning voice was deep and his face was soft like a baby. This man was a living juxtaposition most of the time, but that's what made him special.

"Sorry, did I wake you up?" You ask tracing your fingers along his cheeks and nose.

"The noise from your brain running woke me." He said and nuzzled right back into your neck making you snuggle closer into his embrace.

"Sorry..." was all you could say before he gave a light peck on your lips and pulled you into a tight embrace against his chest.

"No need. just rest."

You couldn't really argue when you were smack dab against his very built chest and soft belly. It felt the closest to a home and the storm in your gut settled down. You could feel Changbin's palms caressing your back and his lips pressed lightly on your head as he drifted back to sleep. His steady breath formed a nice rhythm that made your brain relax and your eyes close.

Falling asleep in the arms of a man who patched your broken pieces with love that flowed and ebbed from every part of him as the snow fell down the cold streets like diamonds from the sky was all you could've asked for. You felt lighter in years as you drifted to sleep. A small smile formed on your lips, when you realised that Changbin's lips left a smile against your head as he slept.

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meo-on-prairie · 2 years ago

Text

Amor

Getou Suguru x Reader

Prompt: “Ladies and gentlemen, will you please stand? // With every guitar string scar on my hand // I take this magnetic force of a man to be my lover” - Lover (Taylor Swift)

Words Count:1.3k

Tags: Suguru x reader, AU, Fluff, pure fluff and good time.

Rambling: Back with my Swiftie agenda. This fic wrote itself ngl, I planned something completely different idk how I got here. Life has been putting me through the meat grinder so I’m writing fluffy fanfic to cope.

“We need to take down the Christmas light.” Suguru brought up while you two are washing the dishes after dinner.

“Yeah we should. Or… we can keep leaving it up for another month.”

Suguru pauses and gives you a pointed look, “Hun, it’s already April.”

“Exactly. We already procrastinated to this point, might as well procrastinate all the way. If we never take it down, we won’t have to put it back up in December.” you pointed out.

You just find it’s useless to take it down. Not like you guys have it plugged in so you're not wasting any electricity, they're just there. There is no reason to waste time to put it up and take it back down every year.

“You’re unbelievable” Suguru chuckled

“Thank you, my genius knows no bounds.” you joke as you hand him another plate to dry.

He leans down to kiss your temple, “You’re lucky I love you.”

“I know,” you said smugly “I love you too.”

After you finish with the dishes, the two of you decide to watch a movie before going to bed. You cuddle up to Suguru. You enjoy this little routine you two have. You both wake up an hour earlier than you need to cuddle with each other, you eat breakfast together before going to work. If possible, you two would have lunch together. Suguru would cook dinner, you would wash the dishes and he insisted on drying them. Then you would spend the night doing things together or doing your own things while being in the same room. It’s a mundane and boring cycle, but to you, it’s anything but boring.

You always thought that love is all about butterflies in your stomach, heart racing, excitement, going on dates to fancy restaurants. And yes, those are always fun and lovely. But if you really have to choose, you would choose this mundane life with Suguru over everything.

“Would you like to go on a date with me this weekend?” Suguru asked you out of the blue.

“Do you even need to ask?”

“It’s a polite thing to do.”

“Well then, Yes. I would love to go on a date with you.” you said with a small laugh. It’s cute, you have spent 3 winters with Suguru, but somehow he always manages to make you feel like you've been with each other for 20 seconds and 20 years.

“Where are we going?” you asked

“It’s a surprise, just dress pretty.” Suguru replied softly, placing a kiss on your hair.

You hum softly at his response, “How pretty would you like me to be?”

He takes his eyes off the TV and looks down at you. Feeling his gaze, you tilt your head back to look into his eyes.

“As pretty as you are right now.” Suguru muttered before capturing your lips.

////

You decide to wear a white tube dress you bought a week ago. You love the way this dress looks on you, it shows off all your curves in all the right places. But you’re not the only one that enjoys the way this dress looks on you.

“It looks lovely on you, but I think it’ll look lovelier when I take it off you.” Suguru whispers in your ears from behind. He has his hands wrapping around your waist, his face buried in the crook of your neck, breathing you in.

“I bought it so you can take it off.” you hinted, turning your head to kiss the top of his hair. You can feel his smile against your skin.

Suguru reserved a nice Italian restaurant downtown. You’re seated near the window. The dimmed light makes Suguru look extra alluring. The way the light cast over his form brings out all of his best features.

You watch as Suguru pours himself his second glass of wine. The foods you order haven’t come out yet and Suguru is already on his second glass. He’s also oddly quiet, usually he would flirt with you as if it’s a first date. You also noticed that he has his left hand in his pocket this entire time.

“What’s wrong?” you questioned, “You seem anxious. Did something happen at work?”

“Nothing, Love. you’re just looking so gorgeous it’s making me a little bit nervous.” He replied. You hum in response, deciding not to press it further. He’ll tell you when he’s ready.

////

After dinner, Suguru drove you to what looked like an empty parking lot.

“Where are we?”

“You’ll see.”

“This place is both dark and empty, and if movies have taught me anything, this place is a good place to murder someone.” you point out.

“I can’t with you,” he shook his head, laughing a little “come on.”

Suguru opens the door for you and offers you his hand. You take his hand and step out of the car. Your hands intertwine with his as he leads you to this flight of stairs you can't seem to see the end of.

“You’re making me climb these stairs, in this dress?” you lamented.

“I’ll carry you when you get tired, it’s shorter than you think.” Suguru compromised.

“Ugh, you’re lucky I love you.”

“I know.” he acknowledged with pride.

Suguru was right, it’s not as bad as you thought it would be, though it did take the wind out of you. When you reach the top, you can’t help but stop and stare in awe. At the top of the stairs is a small shrine with a few cement benches around the vicinity. This place is at the perfect height where you can overlook the town and see the wide sky at the same time.

“You like it?”

“Yeah, it’s gorgeous” you breathe out, not taking your eyes off the sky.

You have never seen so many stars in the sky before. They're glistening and shimmering, as if they are beckoning you toward them. You were so mesmerized you didn't notice how Suguru is kneeling behind you on one knee. A small box in his hand.

“My love?” Suguru called out to you.

“Yes?” you answer, finally taking your eyes off the sky. You turn around to face Suguru, gasping when you see the position he’s in. Tears welling up in your eyes.

“I have been practicing this for weeks, I have about 100 thrown out speeches. No words were strong enough to describe my love for you. Even the word “love” itself falls short. But even if I don’t have the right words, I do know what I want to spend the rest of my days waking up next to you, cooking dinner for you, and falling asleep with you. So will you grant me the greatest honor, of being by your side for the rest of this life and beyond?” he pleaded, voice shaking with every word.

You were crying at this point. Full on sobbing. You can barely see through the tears. You can’t find your voice either. So you nod. Furiously. Before dropping down to his level and throwing yourself around him.

“Hey now, don’t make me drop the ring.” he teased.

You pull away from him, still sobbing. He wipes your tears away with his thumb before taking your hand and slides the ring on you. You can see the reflection of your lips in his eyes.

To Suguru, your lips look like a question begging for an answer, so he answered. He kisses you hungrily, full of relief and sheer joy. He cupped your jaws to deepen the kiss. His lips move against yours like a well practiced tango. He can’t wait to throw out another 100 speeches as he writes his vow to you. You kiss him back desperately, trying to convey him all your joy and show him how much you love him. Because he was right, the word “love” does fall short. You can taste the wine he's been sipping on during dinner. His liquid courage, you realized. It’s almost unbelievable how much you love this man. You want to go wherever he goes. You want to be with him forever. You would gladly take this magnetic force of a man to be your lover, in this life and the next.

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