#which was unintentional and i only realized after i started writing

[barkingatthemooninsteadofwriting]

“So, have you made it inside yet?” James asks as he turns the knob and pushes the door open, apprehensively peering into the darkness. “What’s the verdict? More seashells? Offensively gaudy wallpaper? Ocean themed sex dungeon? The severed heads of Orion’s interns who weren’t up to snuff?”

Sirius snorts as he fumbles around just inside the door, hand finally finding the light switch, and he winces as light floods the room, blinking the spots from his eyes.  

“It’s… just a house,” he says, glancing around. 

The interior is pretty much exactly what he expected, based on the exterior.

Well, as of that morning he didn’t have any expectations, because he was still expecting some sort of gotcha moment from the lawyers handling his fathers will, like maybe this whole thing was just an exceptionally fucked up joke, but once he saw the outside he knew exactly what would be in here.

The living room is all overstuffed beige furniture and white washed walls, with pale wood accents and peach colored bricks around the fireplace. There are gauzy curtains hanging in front of the windows, a rug beneath the coffee table that he’s pretty sure is supposed to look like waves, a pale blue throw blanket over the back of the couch, and the decor is all nautical themed. 

There are many, many seashells.

“It looks like Poseidon threw up in here.” Sirius dumps his bag on the floor, leaving his boots on as he treads further into the house, nose wrinkling as he looks around. “Apparently there’s a market for fishing nets as wall decor. They even have some of those, fuck, what are they called? The floaty things that go above fishing hooks.”

“How the hell would I know? I have literally never gone fishing in my life,” James says flatly, and Sirius hums out his agreement. The closest he’s ever been to a fishing pole was when he once snuck out on one of their yacht excursions and watched the staff fishing off the boat, though he was a little more focused on how short their shorts were rather than the mechanics involved in catching fish. He turns around and freezes when something on the bookshelf catches his eye.

The shelves are mostly empty, a few ratty paperbacks slumped over sadly amongst a collection of shells, but the thing he’s focused on is the picture. 

The frame is cheap looking, tacky yellow gold that he’d bet all the money in his pocket is fake, holding a picture of his father wearing a pair of khaki shorts and a blue linen shirt, his arm wrapped around a light haired woman in a sundress that’s the same color. They’re both laughing, looking at each other instead of the camera, and the thing that’s blowing Sirius’ mind is that he looks happy. 

He truly can’t remember his father ever looking like that. Not once in his life. 

The first chapter of don't look much like a lover (doesn't mean i won't try is now available on ao3. Weekly updates are planned, but don't quote me on that.

In the wake of his father’s death Sirius Black finds himself living on the North Carolina coast in the beach-themed love shack that Orion shared with his mistress. His plan for the summer is to finish writing his novel, get the house ready so that he can list it for sale, and get back to New York before the leaves can even begin to change.

Too bad his former college nemesis and fellow author Remus Lupin lives right next door, just as surly and withdrawn as he remembers him being, throwing a wrench into all of his carefully laid out plans.

[mismatched-sockss]

Follow my lead

» Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader » Word count: 5,8k (help, i got a little carried away..) » Warnings: 18+ only, MDNI, squint and you'll miss the plot, established relationship, reader hasn't been able to orgasm from masturbation alone, mentions of using sex toys to cum (f), guided masturbation, masturbation (f and m), praising / praise kink, dirty talk, unintentional edging (f), voyerism, multiple orgasms, some begging, a lot of check ins, unprotected p in v, creampie, i think this already counts as (soft)dom!Spencer, pet names (good girl for reader, baby, love) » A/N: and here we have my first entry for the bingo! it's my first time participating in a bigger challenge, i can't tell you all how excited i am about this whole thing. don't ask me what happend here, i was shocked when i checked the word count... also, this is the first time writing smut again after years, so bare with me please. hope you enjoy!

⚶ bingo masterlist | masterlist ⚶

“Never?”

“Never. I don't know, it just doesn't do it for me.”

“But you are- I mean, when”, Spencer mumbled, waving his hands around and pointing at you then him, back and forth a couple of times. “When we-”, he trailed off, his cheeks blushing as he got shy and a bit insecure.

“Oh? No”, you started but when his eyes slightly widened you realized it came out wrong. You stepped closer to him and took his hands in yours, softly squeezing them as you looked up at him with a reassuring smile. “Yes, it works when we are sleeping with each other. You do make me cum.” He huffed out a small laugh and blushed a bit more, but the insecurity that had bubbled up was leaving him again.

You pulled him in to you and placed his hands on your waist, then leaned against him and rested your chin against his chest, looking up at him. Shrugging, you wrapped your arms around his mid. “I just can't finish from only touching myself. Not without using toys that require batteries at least.”

Spencer softly squeezed your waist and started drawing circles with his thumbs. He slightly squinted his eyes and nodded his head a couple of times in thought; you could practically hear the gears turning as an idea formed in his mind. You raised your chin. “What?”

“Show me.”

“Huh? Show you? You mean, you...”, you trailed off. Now it was your turn to get shy, the heat rising up in your body, creeping higher until your face grew hot. “You want to watch me.. masturbate?”

Spencer nodded, one side of his lips turned up in a teasing half smile. “Yes. You said I make you cum, so there must be something I'm doing right.” Both of you chuckled at that. “You could show me how you touch yourself and I could talk you through it. If you'd like to try, I mean.”

Subconsciously you pressed you thighs together, which Spencer didn't miss. You licked over your bottom lip, then pulled it between your teeth as you thought about what he was saying. Spencer's eyes followed the motion as he was studying your face, studying your reaction to his proposition.

The thought alone made your heart beat faster and it ignited a raging fire in you. The thought of his eyes watching closely as you lie before him, legs spread and with your hands between your thighs. His voice and words guiding and aiding your pleasure, telling you what to do and how to do it...

Your breath hitched and you swallowed hard. He raised one of his hands to cup your cheek, his thumb softly brushed over the corner of your mouth. “Is that a yes?”, he asked, his voice low. Spencer already knew the answer just by watching your reaction, but wanted you to say it out loud. His other hand sneaked under your shirt, his fingertips caressing your skin on their way higher and higher until he stopped at your ribs.

If he would give you a second, just one second without him touching or teasing you in some way, you would be able to form a sentence and answer with more than a nod. As if he had read your mind, Spencer slightly pulled back, giving you space to breathe and without his hands on you.

And even though this was what you had wanted a few seconds ago so you could properly answer him, you immediately missed his touch and a whine escaped you. He just chuckled and raised an eyebrow, encouraging you to speak, still waiting for an answer.

“Okay. Yes”, you breathed out and nodded, “wanna do it.” A desperate plea still on your tongue, he cupped your cheeks and pressed his lips to yours.

You sighed against his mouth, your lips parting. Spencer deepened the kiss and both of you moaned when your tongues met. A shiver ran down your spine when you felt his hands slide down over your neck and collarbones, over your chest where he was careful not to touch your nipples through the fabric and down to your sides, where he pushed them back under the hem of your shirt, slowly making his way up..

The kiss only broke for a moment when he pulled your shirt over your head, his lips instantly reattaching to yours and his hands back on you, now able to roam freely over your skin without any restrictions. You slid your own hands over his chest and started to unbutton his dress shirt. You just undid the last button when you gasped and bunched up the material in your hands; Spencer slowly slid one of his hands under the hem of your panties and groaned against your lips when he felt how wet you were.

His finger slid through your folds, teasing at your entrance before he drew slow and gentle circles on your clit. When your breath hitched and you began to grind your hips against his hand, he stopped and pulled his hand out of your pants

“Nuh-uh, the deal was for you to make yourself cum; with your own hands”, he taunted, as if he hadn't started this himself just now. He lifted your chin and pressed a kiss to your lips. When he leaned back you tried to chase his lips, whining when he left you hanging and took a step back, shrugging the shirt off his shoulders as he did so. Then he took another step. And another. “Take the rest of your clothes off.”

The buckle of his belt rattled as Spencer opened it, your eyes followed his hands. You watched him pull it out of the loops and drop it to the floor next to him before he unbuttoned his pants – but kept them on – and sat down in the armchair. His eyes never left you, following each of your moves. You hooked your thumbs into the hem of your pants and underwear and pulled them down, letting them pool around your ankles.

“Sit down, spread your legs and put your hands on your knees.”

You stepped out of the pile of fabric and kicked them to the side, right onto the rest of your discarded clothes, then you did as he told you and sat down across from him on the sofa, slowly opening your legs.

Being naked in front of Spencer was one thing, but this? It was a totally new feeling for you; a different – a special – kind of vulnerability you had never experienced before, not with him, not with anybody.

You felt like your skin was on fire, inch after inch getting ignited as Spencer's eyes wandered over your naked body, lingering here and there for a moment; on your bottom lip when you licked over it and pulled it between your teeth, the swell of your breasts and your hardening nipples, down over your soft stomach to your glistening pussy, already wet from his teasing, and your hands loosely resting on your knees.

“Like that. Good girl.”

This wasn't the first time he called you a 'good girl', but today... Fuck... A shiver ran down your back and you were barely able to hold back a whimper, the ache in your core getting stronger and you felt yourself clench around nothing. God, you wanted to feel him deep inside you; tongue, fingers, cock. What ever you could get. What ever he would give you. Your hands shook in anticipation and you felt yourself getting wetter and needier.

Spencer's eyes darkened when he saw your intense reaction to the praise and his jaw went slack for a moment before he fixed his gaze back on your face, trying to gain back some composure. His hands held a tight grip on the armrests, his knuckles almost white, as if he had to physically hold himself back from just getting up and ravaging you right then and there.

You loved the effect you had on him, that just seeing you drove him crazy. It made you feel powerful.

He took a deep breath in through his nose and slowly breathed out, calming himself down. His grip on the armrests loosened then and he leaned back. “I want you to start by moving your hands over your thighs”, he instructed, his voice low and raspy. “Slowly.”

Without having to think about it you followed his words and let your hands glide over your soft skin with a gentle pressure; from your knees over the outsides of your thighs until you reached your hips, then you moved them up to slide them back down to your knees again.

“You can touch your inner thighs as well, but don't touch your pussy yet.”

You nodded and took a shaky breath. The insides of your thighs were more sensitive and you shuddered as you got closer and closer to your core and a soft moan escaped your lips. Even though Spencer told you not to, you wanted nothing more than to play with your clit or slide two of your fingers inside, thrusting them in and out.

And when he moved his hand to his bulge, palming himself as he watched you, you thought that maybe, he would let you do it. He didn't give you permission and you didn't ask, but you didn't stop moving your hands further up. But when your fingertips got too close to your folds, he clicked his tongue disapprovingly.

“Sorry”, you mumbled breathless and pulled your hands back. You slid them back down, closer to your knees, and grabbed your thighs.

“'s okay, baby.” Then Spencer chuckled. “And you can sit more comfortably if you want, by the way. You don't have to sit up with a straight back.”

You pouted with a smile on your lips as you looked beside you and grabbed a pillow to put it behind your back. “I knew that.” You leaned back, testing if the pillow was in a good position and when you where satisfied with the placement you scooted back some more and fully rested your body against it.

“Anything you feel like doing right now?”, Spencer asked. You opened your mouth, but before you could say anything he added with a smirk: “Except for touching your pussy.”

You grinned at him. “What about for you to fuck me?” But he just shook his head, chuckling.

“Patience, love.”

Well, it was still worth a try. You held back the disappointed and needy whine that wanted to come out and for a moment you tried to think about it, you really did. But you made the mistake to look down his torso and Spencer's hand was just too damn distracting. He was still palming himself over his pants, softly squeezing from time to time. And while he was waiting for your answer, he lazily stroked his thumb back and forth over his clothed shaft.

The words came out choked and barely audible when you finally forced yourself to answer, your fingers digging hard in to your flesh. “Don't know...”

“First thing that comes to mind.” His voice was lazed with amusement; Spencer was enjoying this so much and he knew exactly what he was doing to you right now. His tongue darted out to lick over his lip and the softly bit down in the tip.

After a deep breath you made yourself look at his face and softened the grip you had on your thighs. “Maybe... touch my breasts? My nipples?”

He smiled softly. “No wrong answers here.” With a tilt of his head he raised his chin as confirmation. “Go ahead. Keep your hands on your body.”

With a tender touch your moved your hands up your body, softly caressing your skin, up to your tits and cupped them with your hands.

“Gently massage them, play with your nipples.”

You gasped when you followed his instructions and rolled your hard nipples between your fingers, the sensation shooting waves of pleasure down to your core. With every flick and twist you grew needier. Impatient.

"Feels good?", he asked breathy, his voice shaking a bit when he moved his hand faster and with more pressure over his cock.

"Not as good as when you do it”, you whined.

Spencer chuckled again; his tone teasing. "Want me to touch you?"

You nodded your head eagerly, your back slightly arching into your hands. "Mh-hm, please."

"Wanna see you make yourself cum first, okay? You can do it. I'll touch you as much as you want after."

If you wouldn't get some kind of release soon, you would go insane, completely feral. Closing your legs to press your thighs together for some friction wasn't an option and with the way you were sitting you couldn't exactly try and rub yourself against the sofa. And maybe it was written on your face in big, bold letters, because Spencer – finally – gave you the go.

“Slide your hands down your stomach, move your fingertips over your lips and tease yourself for a moment – yes, good, like that. When you are ready, go ahead and touch your clit. Soft circles.”

The first stoke of your fingers over your clit felt like heaven and ecstasy flooded through your whole body. Your head fell back and you moaned loudly; it felt so good to finally be able to feel your fingers where you so desperately had wanted them that your body started to tremble. A string of mashed together words fell from your lips, you didn't even realize you were saying them. ”Thankyouthankyouthankyou-”

You melted back into the pillow, gasping and moaning as the pleasure became more and more; your other hand found its way back to your tits on its own, groping at the soft flesh and teasing your nipple as your fingers between your legs moved in slow, tight circles.

The sound of clothes rustling made you lift your head; Spencer lifted his hips to slip off his pants, letting them pool around his ankles. He adjusted his position and leaned back, his knees slightly falling apart and he wrapped his hand around his hard cock.

The sight made you whimper, the need to taste him and feel him overtaking your whole being. But you knew, even if you would ask – beg – him to fuck you, he wouldn't do it, not now; you hadn't cum yet. So you did the next best thing and pushed two of your fingers into your leaking cunt.

A breathy laugh fell from Spencer's lips as he watched you start to thrust your fingers into yourself as soon as you had seen him. His grip on his cock tightened and he started to pump his fist faster, not holding back his own moans. He so desperately wanted to bury himself in your tight walls and it took everything in him to hold back. “God, you look so perfect right now... So fucking pretty.”

The both of you worked each other up, the pleasure getting more intense with every stroke; hands moving, touching and teasing with more and more want and desperation.

But somehow it still wasn't enough. “Can I go faster?”, you whimpered, your voice wavering.

“Of course, baby. Go as fast or as slow as you want.”

The room filled with both of your moans and panting, and the sounds of skin hitting on skin – Spencer's fist hitting his pelvis and the palm of your hand slapping against your slick cunt – as you gradually picked up the pace until you were franticly fucking yourself with your fingers.

After a while you slowed down your pace again, trying to catch your breath. You felt the familiar knot form in your belly as you pumped your fingers in and out of your heat, your walls fluttering around them.

“Think I'm getting close...”, you breathed out, followed by a high-pitched gasp when your palm rubbed over your clit.

A groan formed in the back of Spencer's throat. “Touch your clit again; you can go slow or fast, in circles or not, however it feels right.”

You pulled your fingers out and swirled them over your clit, your fingertips effortlessly sliding over it. The muscles in your stomach tightened as your orgasm built up. You fought against the urge to thrust your hips up, trying to keep your focus on rubbing your clit. You didn't want to get distracted, this was the closest you had ever gotten yourself and if you had to concentrate on moving your hips as well as your hand and fingers, you wouldn't be able to keep up with both movements.

Your breathing got quicker and heat was rising up in your body. Just when you felt like you would burst – it stopped; instead of falling over the edge your body refused to go further, keeping you right on the ledge. As if it was taunting you, the sensation became weaker, not even leaving you on the edge any more.

It was always like this when you tried to finish without a toy; your managed to make yourself feel good and when you got close – which also felt like it took forever to even get there – your body refused to give you the release you had been chasing.

A whine left your lips, you were borderline sobbing, as you squeezed your eyes shut. The need to cum and the frustration that it wasn't working, together with the unintentionally edging had you close to tears. You slowed your movements, but kept going nonetheless. “I can't. Told you it doesn't work for me.”

“Don't fight it, you almost had it. Let your body take control and let it guide you.”

You nodded eagerly and met his eyes. “Okay, I- I'll try.” You tried to hold his gaze and after a deep breath you slowly pick up the pace again. Spencer matched your pace, the slow lazy strokes getting faster as he pumped his cock with the same speed your fingers were circling your clit. Your eyelids fluttered as your gaze flickered between his face – all flushed, desire burning in his eyes and slack-jawed, with his lips slightly parted – and his hand stroking his erection.

This time when your hips jolted, you let it happen and shifted your focus to what you were feeling instead of what you were doing. It took you a moment or two to fully let go and give into the pleasure, your movements faltering a couple of times until your mind cleared and your hips and fingers synced up to work together in a delicious, steady rhythm.

“That's it, baby. Just like that. You are doing so well.” Spencer's voice was low and his tone had gotten so gravelly, he was almost growling.

You leaned back, your moans getting louder again as heat spread under your skin until your whole body was on fire , the knot in your stomach began to tighten again. It got tighter and tighter until –

“Oh fuck”, you screamed out in between your moans as your legs began to shake, and when the coil in your lower belly snapped your thighs clamped shut. Your hand stilled and your fingers stopped working your clit; instead your hips kept jolting, thrusting up into your fingers and prolonged your orgasm on their own accord. Your back arched off the sofa and you slapped your other hand on the cushion next to you, tightly gripping it in your fist.

When your body finally calmed down you gasped for air and through the foggy haze clouding your mind you vaguely registered moaning and a string of words – probably an array of curses, maybe even some praise about how well you did, how pretty you looked when you came, good girl – but the blood rushing through your ears was too loud, making it hard to make out any words.

As your muscles relaxed more, your body got limb and let yourself slide along the back of the couch until you were lying down; pulling one leg onto the couch, the other still hanging down. The more oxygen you got, the more you came back to. The shaking in your legs had almost stopped, instead your shoulders started to shake as you began to giggle. “Holy shit.”

A low laugh made you turn your head to the side and open your eyes. Your were met with Spencer's face right next to yours, a proud smile on his lips as he took in your blissed out state. He had just knelt down next to you, his hand found its way to your forehead and brushed away a few sweaty strands. “See? Knew you could do it, 'm so proud of you, baby.” He moved his hand to cup your cheeks, then further down to curl it around the back of your neck.

Your smile grew bigger and you took a shaky breath to say something, but before you could Spencer pulled you closer and kissed you desperately; the need to be near you, touch you, feel you, overpowering him. You kissed him back just as feverishly and buried your hands in his hair. Spencer let his hand wander from your neck down to your breasts, his fingers leaving your skin burning up and begging for more. He cupped one of them, gently massaging it and started playing with your nipple, rolling it between his fingertips and pinching it with just the right amount of pressure that made you tremble and arch your back into him.

You whimpered and softly tugged on the strands at the back of his head. He groaned into your mouth in return and you felt him shift his position as he got up, pulling his knee up to hold him self up so he could lean over you. His touch and his lips, finally feeling his hands on your body, made you feel dizzy and reignited the ache in your core, your clit throbbing, desperately waiting for his attention.

The sudden feeling of his hand between your thighs made you jump a little, you broke the kiss and gasped which quickly turned into a high-pitched moan when he slipped one of his fingers in between your slick folds, only grazing your entrance as he collected some of your arousal. You were still sensitive from your orgasm, but the rush of him finally touching you was stronger and you started to move your hips.

He didn't make you wait long and so after a few tight circles over your clit, he slid his fingers down to your entrance and sank two of them into you, filling you up so much better than your own had done and reaching that spot deep inside you that you couldn't quite reach yourself.

The both of you quickly fell in an easy rhythm with each other and he had you a moaning and blabbering mess in a matter of seconds; it would almost be embarrassing if you would care about it. It blew your mind every time – every god damn day – how much power Spencer held over you, both body and mind. And if he would be anybody else, it might even scare you.

“You looked so beautiful, love, you have no idea”, Spencer breathlessly cooed against your delicate skin, kissing and softly nibbling along your neck and throat. “Could watch you play with yourself all day.”

You wouldn't be able to say anything to him even if you wanted, your mind getting blank and fuzzy; all what left your lips where breathy moans and pleas. A whiny gasp left your throat when he curled his fingers, pressing his fingertips against the very spot that made you see stars.

Spencer kissed his way to the sensitive spot under your ear and when he spoke again, whispering into your ear, his lips grazed it. “Can feel how close you are, it's okay, baby. Come for me.”

He asked and your body complied.

With his name on your lips, repeating it over and over like a prayer, your orgasm washed over you. Your eyes rolled back and when your whole body tensed up, you tried to hold on to something to anchor yourself. You blindly reached for his wrist and held it in a tight grip, your other hand curled around his arm, clawing at his biceps. Spencer kept the pace he was circling your clit with his thumb with and pumping his fingers into you as you clenched around them, trying to suck him in deeper.

Your walls were still fluttering around his fingers when you released his wrist from your grip and moved your hand to the back of his head, pulling him even closer to you. The vibrations of him chuckling against your pulse tickled your skin and you whined quietly when he slowly pulled his fingers out of your cunt, leaving you empty. He slightly leaned back and looked at you, a crooked smirk stretched on his lips. “Still want more, huh?”

“Please, baby, need you, please.” You keened, not at all caring how needy you sounded.

He shook his head at you, not to say no, but in a affectionate you are something else kind of way. “Think you got enough strength left to hold yourself up a little?”

“Yes, think so.” You swallowed and breathed deeply, nodding your head as you held his gaze. ”I will.”

“That's my good girl.” Spencer closed the small space between you and kissed you, swallowing the whiny sound you made, his lips lingering on yours for a moment, then he helped you to sit up. You watched him reach for the other pillows that had scattered around the couch and bunch them up, piling them against the back of the seats, right next to you. “C'mere.”

His hands found your hips and you let him guide you in to the position he had wanted you in, right against the pillows. He guided you to sit – kneel really – in front of the piled up pillows, chest facing them and gently pushed your upper body with a hand between your shoulder blades down. You lay against the pile, letting it support your body and after adjusting it a bit, you crossed your arms on top and placed your head down; you were practically hugging the whole thing.

He nudged your leg with his knee to spread your legs more so he could kneel behind you. With a sigh you relaxed your muscles and enjoyed Spencers hands roaming over your back. He planted a couple of kisses on your neck and shoulder, then placed his hand on the backrest behind you to hold himself up and craned his neck to catch your eyes. You shifted the position of your head slightly so you could look at him better.

“Are you comfortable?”

You smiled at him and hummed, nodding your head. Spencer returned the smile and leaned closer, to capture your lips in a kiss. It was supposed to be a quick one, just a small peck, but his front was now flush against your back and his dick had fit so perfectly between you, with his shaft splitting your folds and pressed against your entrance that he couldn't hold back any more.

So instead, he moved his hand from the sofa to the back of your head, holding you close as he slid his tongue into your mouth and deepened the kiss. You moaned into each others mouths, desperately rocking your hips against each other. He pressed himself against you as close as possible, leaving no space between your bodies, as if he wanted to make up for the time he hadn't touched you all evening.

All it took was for him to pull back just a bit more and his cock slipped right into you, bottoming out at once. “Shit”, you hissed at the sudden stretch, directly followed by crying out his name in pleasure when he pulled out just an inch or two and slowly thrust back in, even deeper.

His forehead fell to your shoulder and Spencer let out a long, deep moan. He placed his left hand back on the backrest – closer to your front this time so his arm was circling around you, more like he was holding you in a hug – and his other took a tight hold on your hip. For a long moment neither of you moved, just basking in the feeling of each other and trying to catch your breaths.

Every time you exhaled, a soft whimpering sigh left your lips. You pulled your left arm out from under your body and reached for his hand on the backrest, slotting your fingers between his. He moved his fingers slightly so he could gently squeeze yours.

Spencer was the first to move. You felt him lift his head and press his lips to your shoulder, before he repeated the same slow and deep thrust from before, not moving his body away even an inch from yours. He kept rolling his hips into you in a slow pace, pushing in deep and hard rather than fast.

Your whole body was pushed hard against the pillows in front of you every time he rocked into you, every thrust eliciting a low moan from you. You let your head fall back against him, leaning the side of your face against his. “Fuck, feel so good around me”, he groaned right by your ear, his warm breath hitting your skin.

He kept the slow and hard pace for a while, only moving faster when you pushed back against him, needing to feel more of him. You gasped with every quickening breath, the ache in your stomach was growing again. “'m close”, you breathed out, your hand tightening the hold on his.

With his nose he gently nudged your cheek. “You know what to do”, he said breathless.

You shook your head quickly, whining desperately. “No, no, no, nonono, please, need you to touch me. Please.”

“Aw, but you did so well earlier.” He planted a kiss to your jaw, then moved his lips to your ear and pulled your earlobe between his teeth, gently nibbling on it.

“Promised...Ah... Said 'yd touch me.. all I want...” You got quieter with every word, your voice high-pitched and shaky with need.

Spencer chuckled and leaned his forehead against your temple. “Mmh, I did, didn't I?” All you could do was nod, not trusting your voice any more. But there were no more words needed. He sneaked his free hand between you and the pillows to give you what you wanted, needed.

You hadn't expected to be this sensitive, but when his fingertips slid over your clit you jolted forward, crying out his name. “Fuck...” His chest rumbled with a deep laugh against your back and he pushed your body against the pile of pillows with his own to hold you in place. In sync with the quick flicks of his fingers, he picked up the pace he was thrusting into your pussy, his hips snapping against you faster and faster.

You tried to hold yourself up, leaning your forearms against the backrest, but your arms had gotten too weak so all you could do was hold onto it with your hands in a tight grip, taking what Spencer gave you; your head hung low and nothing more then moans left your lips.

When he felt you clench hard around him, Spencer groaned and leaned his temple against yours, his mouth near your ear. “Such a good girl, taking me so well”, he panted and increased the pressure on your clit; the praise did exactly what he had intended and it sent you over the edge, with a choked out cry your back arched against him and you came, your whole body shaking. He had been close before, but it took him by surprise when you pussy clenched so hard around him that you pulled him right with you, his dick twitching and he spilled himself into you.

Both of you collapsed against the back of the sofa, breathing hard, and you let out an uff when Spencer's weight got too much. “Sorry”, he said breathlessly and immediately pulled back; you hissed when he pulled out in the same move. He moved his arm around your torso and helped you holding yourself up. You tiredly grabbed pillow after pillow and just threw it blindly to the side to let them fall to the floor. The last one was a bit difficult to get out from under you, but after you got it out you moved it to the end of the couch.

You let your body fall into the cushions, ringing for air and with your eyes closed. Next to you, Spencer got up. You reached out to him, alarmed when you heard him stumble; he luckily had regained his balance before he fell over his own feet, but his knees were still a bit wobbly. “Are you okay?”, you asked, your lips stretching into a worried smile. He huffed out a laugh and took the hand you had reached out into his, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

“Yeah, I'm good. Just wanted to get us some water.” He gave your fingers a gentle squeeze before he let go and bend down to get his boxer shorts to put them back on before he slowly walked into the kitchen. Not even a minute later he came back and handed you a glass of cold water, his own already half empty.

When you had finished your water he took your glasses and put them down on the coffee table. You lifted your arms and reached for him, beckoning for him to come back and lay down on the couch with you.

“Five minutes”, you said softly, a wide smile on your lips; you already knew Spencer was about to shoo you up and into the shower.

He huffed, but took your hand and joined you. You made him some space and rested your head on his chest as he wrapped his arms around you. You hummed content, nuzzling your face deeper into the crook of his neck, closing your eyes. After a short moment you mumbled: “Maybe ten minutes...”

Spencer just laughed and pulled you closer.

[stellar-haikyuu]

no regrets ☆ sugawara koushi x reader

synopsis: before their third year starts, an evening walk changes everything between reader and their best friend, koushi. details: fluff | opposites attract | childhood friends to lovers | first kiss | ~1.7k words | gn! reader | requested by @liquidcatt as part of my karasuno writing event

One week before your third and final year of high school, you realize that you’ll soon be experiencing multiple “lasts” before a new chapter of your life begins.

Now, you don't normally care about these things, but you can’t help it when Koushi calls you that evening.

Apparently, he made an impulsive decision to go on a walk, and he now wants your company.

You groan at him through the phone and he laughs. Of course, he knows there’s no real anger behind it. He’s the only person in the world you would drop everything for without a second thought.

“I’m sor-” he tries, but you hang up on him, cutting off his “apology.” Huffing with amusement, you rummage through your closet for something that would keep you warm.

After pulling on a sweater, you let your parents know you’re heading out. They barely glance up from the television before nodding in acknowledgment. It’s been years since they decided that hangouts with your best friend no longer warrant further questions.

The cold wind greets you as you step outside. You shiver a little, but you slowly adjust to the temperature as you wait for Koushi. 

After a few minutes, you hear the sound of footsteps against the pavement. They stop right outside your gate, and you can see the telltale tuft of gray hair peeking out from behind.

“Koushi.” You greet him with an air of nonchalance as you open the gate. 

Your tone has always been a little flat—an unintentional habit of yours. You don’t have it in you to amp up the energy like everyone else does, but your friend has never minded it, even when he is the very definition of sunshine and chaos.

“Heh,” he chuckles sheepishly. “Hope you weren’t too busy.”

You half-heartedly glare at him, which makes him ruffle your hair. In response, you swat his hand away and try to smooth down the mess he’s made.

“You’re just lucky I was bored out of my mind,” you mutter, stepping out onto the sidewalk, and letting the gate shut behind you.

“This is the hundredth time I’ve been lucky.” He raises an eyebrow. “Maybe you do like me after all,” he teases.

Your stomach does a flip. 

Is he onto me?

“Sh-shut up!” You stammer, elbowing him in the side. 

“Ow!” He yelps, clutching at his ribs as if you’ve stabbed him. “Hey, I’ve got volleyball practice soon, don’t give me an injury.”

“You’ll be fine.” You roll your eyes at his theatrics, watching as he rubs his side in an attempt to soothe the pain. As he pouts and mumbles something under his breath, you brave a quick look at him.

He’s wearing that adorable blue scarf again—well, it’s yours, actually. You lent it to him in first year when he forgot his scarf on a chilly evening. For some reason, you insisted that he keep it, and now he wears it all the time with no fail. 

(His reasoning? “Maybe you’ll miss your blue scarf, so I’m just going to wear it every time we walk together.”

You remember staring at him in disbelief, but internally, you were maybe five seconds away from passing out.)

“Agh. Gosh, why didn’t you go for martial arts or something,” Koushi’s voice snaps you out of your reverie.

“I don’t have that kind of energy.” You raise an eyebrow at him. “Besides, I’m sure you wouldn’t want my punches to hurt even more.”

“Fair point,” he concedes with a laugh.

The two of you lapse into a comfortable silence, making the sound of leaves rustling much louder. When you glance at Koushi, his expression has shifted. He looks thoughtful, his gaze fixed ahead but distant, as though he’s turning something over in his mind.

“Why’d you call me out here?” You ask.

“Hm? It’s just…” Koushi hesitates for a moment, his voice softening. “We’re almost done with high school.”

The reality of his words hit you. “We are. But hey, I’m a year closer to my librarian dreams.”

“Ha. You’ve never really changed your mind, huh?”

“Nope.” You shake your head, popping the ‘p’ sound. “How about you, still wanna be a teacher?”

“Yeah.” He nods. “Dead set on it now, actually.”

“Good,” you say firmly. “You better keep your promise to apply to the same school. Don’t leave me to fend for myself in college or at work.”

“You’re not going to die, gosh,” Koushi laughs, shaking his head. “What are you going to do when strangers come up to you in the library to ask about different things?”

“That’s a problem for future me.” You scrunch your nose. Unfortunately, no job is exactly the way you want it to be.

“We’ll cross the bridge when we get there. But now, there’s one more year ahead of us,” he sighs.

“Yeah.” You tilt your head, brows furrowing slightly. “Is there something wrong?”

“Not really…” He trails off. “I just…I’ve been thinking a lot about how these months will be full of last chances.”

Last chances?

“I guess I couldn’t help but worry about how I need to make every moment count. I don’t want to waste opportunities.”

Oh.

Koushi stops walking for a moment and turns to you. “Am I making any sense?”

You study his expression. The faint lines of uncertainty on his face say enough. “You are. What brought this on?”

“It’s the volleyball team.” He confesses, his gaze flickering downward as he stuffs his hands in his pockets. “I still want to stay. I still want to go to Nationals. I know that we may not be the best in the prefecture, but…it’s not stupid to hope, right?”

For a few seconds, you think about it. You’re no stranger to hoping for good things, even when it seems impossible. 

You spent your childhood hoping for a best friend, even though most kids never wanted to approach you. Yet, here you are, years later. 

(Now, you’re just holding onto the hope that your feelings for him will be returned.)

“No, Koushi. It’s not stupid,” you reply, despite the subtle ache in your chest.

“Thanks.” His eyes brighten at your response, and you can’t help but let a small grin form on your face.

That’s my dreamer.

You recall how painful it was to see him realize that Karasuno was no longer the powerhouse he imagined. But, the fact that he hasn’t thought of giving up once is a testament to his true strength.

“Well, I just hope we’re lucky enough to get some more first-years.” A puff of steam leaves his mouth. “And I hope Asahi and Nishinoya come back as soon as possible.”

His voice falters slightly at the mention of his teammates. You instinctively reach out to take his hand in quiet support. That incident had upset him more than he let on.

“But no matter what happens, I’ll work hard,” he continues with conviction. “I want to finish this year with no regrets.”

“No regrets,” you echo his words in affirmation. Your heart hammers in your chest.

Should I do it?

“Hey, are you okay?”

What if this is my last chance?

“You’ve been staring for a while.”

What if someone else takes this moment from me?

“Hey.”

Do it. Come on.

“You’re scaring me. What’s going on?”

No regrets.

“Koushi?”

“Oh, there! Thank goodness. What happened?” His voice sharpens in concern.

You close your eyes, willing yourself not to chicken out.

“No regrets,” you murmur to yourself.

He blinks at you, taken aback by your cryptic behavior. “Um, yes, that’s what I said.”

“I wanna do that too,” you admit with a steady tone.

“That’s…good?” he replies, but the confusion turns his statement into a question.

“So, to start the year off strong…” You let go of your grip on his hands and take a step forward, closing the gap between the two of you.

“Koushi.” You look away momentarily, trying to find the words. “I don’t know when I started feeling this way, but…” 

You force yourself to meet his gaze, and you reach a hand out to tug on his scarf, bringing him closer to you.

Your faces are mere inches apart now; you can feel his warm breath on your face. The fact that he doesn’t protest or pull away gives you the confidence to continue.

“I like you,” you whisper. “Can I kiss you?”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, his lips crash into yours. You’re frozen, stunned by the fact that Koushi reciprocated. 

This is actually happening.

He’s kissing me.

One of his hands finds its way to the base of your neck, while the other wraps securely around your waist. His touch is gentle but grounding. It’s almost like he’s afraid to let you go.

You can’t take it anymore. 

The longing you’ve kept bottled inside for years finally explodes.

Releasing your grip on his scarf, you move your hands to the base of his neck instead, pulling him down a bit more. The height difference sends a quiet thrill through your body, leaving you giddy.

You part for a moment to gasp for air, but your lips find each other again. They seem to slot together perfectly, you think, as though you were made for each other.

You sigh at the feeling of shared warmth between your bodies, a stark contrast to the nighttime climate. Carding your fingers through his soft hair, you think about how much you’ve dreamed of spending the rest of your life with him.

No one understands you the way Koushi does. No one gets you like he does. Even when people questioned your friendship dynamics, you both found ways to defy the odds. The realization nearly makes you cry in the middle of this romantic moment, but there’s no way you’re letting Koushi use that against you.

As much as you want this kiss to stretch into eternity, your lungs are starting to burn. Reluctantly, you pull away once more, but this time, your chest is filled with something like peace and contentment.

Koushi rests his forehead against yours as you both catch your breath. He giggles with pure joy. “So, no regrets? I totally don’t have any.”

There may be last chances, but also hopeful beginnings.

“Yeah, me too. No regrets.”

masterlist

[abbyzmami]

pink toy.

• dom abby anderson x sub fem! reader

cw; explicit +18 content, exhibitionism, praise kink, praising, degradation, overstimulation, squiring, dom abby, use of toys (vibrator, dildo), masturbation (receiving), slapping, orgasm denial, finger sucking, fingering, dirty talking, hair pulling, kinda public sex, public masturbation… MINORS DNI

- notes: guys, this is my first time writing for tumblr, i have a lot of ideas and i hope you like them. sorry for any mistakes, i wrote this at 2am without proofreading much LOL 😭

laughter filled the atmosphere, the sound of glasses clinking and people chatting. it was one of those classic dinner nights with your group of friends at your favorite restaurant, everything was perfect. except for one small factor: you couldn't relax the whole night with a vibrator plugged into your fucking cunt, which abby controlled on the cell phone next to you.

as the desserts arrived on the table, everyone fumbled around trying to remember who ordered what, but everything was more than rattling around in your head, and all you could process all night were voices far away.

"are you even listening to me? hey!" dina says, completely frustrated as she tries to talk to you and gets no response. you keep your hand over your mouth, looking out at the street, trying your best to keep any sound or moan from escaping your lips.

"hey dina. i'm sorry, i'm a little distracted." you say, a little breathless but almost imperceptible to your friends who were already super drunk.

"you ordered the cherry ice cream, yea?" dina says, laughing and changing the words. you could feel the alcohol exhaling from her breath, while she was being pulled from side to side by ellie in her chair.

"yes, she did, thank you so much dina." abby says, picking up the dessert and placing it in front of you, one arm on the back of your chair. she moves closer to your face, speaking quietly enough for only you to hear. "if you keep panting like that, i swear, i'll put this on full speed and turn off my phone." she says, then kisses your cheek and smiles at you as if nothing is happening, picking up the glass of wine in front of her on the table and taking a sip.

you squirm once again under the table, crossing your legs in the hope of getting some friction for your relief, but abby immediately notices and grabs your thigh tightly, pulling them apart, leaving you completely open in the corner of the table which, luckily, was in a darker part of the restaurant. abby reaches up under your tight skirt, staring at you in disbelief as she realizes how wet and hot you were after all this time. the blonde decides to start an even bigger teasing game, massaging your needy cunt over the thin panties you were wearing.

she moves closer again, stroking your hair with the other hand that was resting on the chair, whispering in your ear. "if you make any noise, i'll stop."

you swallowed dry, desperate to feel abby's hands on you for the first time that night. god, how could she be so mean? you were practically begging for it with your eyes all night, while she slid her finger up and down on her cell phone, just giving you the most innocent, unintentional look of all.

abby uses one of her middle fingers to push your panties aside, massaging your throbbing clit painfully slowly in response, sliding in circles, in a light and extremely provocative touch, feeling all the heat exuding from your body at that moment. you squirm even more in your chair, feeling abby's hand squeeze your shoulder, silently scolding you. she stroked your hair so gently that anyone looking would never suspect that you were being completely fucked under that table.

"abby..." you said, sighing heavily, whimpering. "i can't take this anymore, please..." your legs were shaking more and more, accompanied by shivers that ran down your spine every time abby unlocked that damn cell phone to control the vibrations that were only expanding inside you.

"guys, we're going to the bathroom for a minute, we'll be right back." abby says, getting up and encouraging you to do the same, as she picks up your bag for you, holding out one of her arms for support. you look around and no one seems to notice that anything's wrong, everyone's too far away, laughing loudly and drinking their ass off.

as soon as you enter the bathroom, abby locks the door and immediately pulls you tightly by the waist, planting a violent kiss on your lips, as if she's been hungry for you all night. the taller woman sighs, helping you take off the short skirt that covers your hips. "god, you're such a slut, couldn't wait for us to get home to get fucked."

abby pulls you hard over the sink, standing behind you and inducing you to bend over for her, facing the mirror. she finally pulls the toy out of you, making your walls contract completely. "i'm fucking you in front of the mirror so you can see clearly what a whore you are" she says, bringing her own hand to her mouth. "open up and suck it good," she says, inserting her two middle fingers into your lips.

you completely moisten abby's fingers as soon as you open your mouth, which has been salivating for her for a long time, sucking carefully and eagerly, moaning muffledly as you do so. "you're a pathetic slut, all turned on just by sucking my fingers." she says, kissing your neck, moving down the area with licks and bites, making sure to give you goosebumps.

she removes her fingers from your mouth, patting your face twice before finally penetrating you. "that's my pretty girl, huh?" you moan in response to the pet name, leaning further over the sink, opening your pussy wide for her. "god, you're soaking wet." she says, slipping her two fingers into your hole, curling them inside you, with back and forth movements that make you moan louder, failing to control yourself.

she slid perfectly inside you, which was completely lubricated with your own juices and saliva. abby pulled you by the hair, wrapping it around her own hand, having complete control over you at that moment. in the reflection of the mirror you could see her smiling sadistically as she watched you in this situation, thrusting even harder inside you, hitting your sensitive inner spot several times. "will you be a good girl and cum for me? hm?" she said, making you melt even more, moaning and calling out her name, which was filled with even more lust, as if she possessed you at that moment.

you could feel your body weakening more and more as you felt all of your wetness dripping down your thighs, with her in and out of you with so much hunger, as she sucked on your neck like a fucking vampire, sucking your soul out of your body. using you as if you were nothing but a toy, with a completely devilish face, looking at you through the mirror with that stupid smile.

"abby, im gonna c-" you barely manage to finish your sentence when she speeds up her movements with precision, making you arch and tremble even more, moaning loudly as she laughs, watching you melt completely in her hands. "you're so fucking easy to please, such a needy whore."

a huge wave of pleasure-filled shocks unloaded over your body, after being overstimulated for so long, you felt your orgasm so strong that tears began to run down your face as you moaned her name, pulsing against the fingers still curling inside you. "atta girl." she says, chuckling.

"i think i might even need to order some dessert too, after fucking you all over like that." she says, teasingly as she watches you trying to come back to yourself, or at least recover enough to be able to get back to that table.

"i hate you" you say, annoyed by the cocky blonde's provocations.

"you know you love me."

[ecoterrorist-katara]

I really liked your meta about bloodbending, this is a big ask but how do you think that the whole bloodbending storyline could/should be rewritten? It’s clear that the writers are using bloodbending as a metaphor for slavery but it rarely comes across that way, and poor Hama was failed spectacularly by the writing

hello anon! thank you for this fabulous question & hope you don't mind that it took me ages to get to it.

TL;DR: I think making Hama into a serial killer/abductor was a terrible narrative choice. If it were up to me, Katara would have a (child-friendly) ethics discussion about bloodbending with Hama, who then joins them on the Day of the Black Sun. After the war, bloodbending becomes a lynchpin issue when the North attempts to colonize the South, but Hama and Yugoda find healing uses for bloodbending in the kerfuffle.

But first, my "ATLA bungled colonialism themes" soapbox: to me, bloodbending is a metaphor on two levels. The storyline about how Southern Waterbenders are captured and then transported to the FN certainly seems to reference the Transatlantic Slave Trade, like you said, though without the labour exploitation aspect; the storyline about Hama and bloodbending feels like an allegory for guerrilla resistance in general. Imo the narrative kind of cheapened these potential real-world connections by making The Puppetmaster a spooky Halloween special with a dash of “an eye for an eye” parable. The narrative's treatment of bloodbending, and Hama, feels like an unintentional reflection of “unacceptable” colonial resistance and "dark" knowledge of the colonized (fearmongering around Vodou etc). A common colonial narrative is that the colonized are sinister and underhanded for engaging in things like guerrilla warfare, which is either too violent or too cowardly depending on what’s more convenient for the colonizers’ narrative at a specific point in time. I think ATLA’s approach to bloodbending reflects this general sentiment, especially since Hama is drawn as this creepy Hansel & Gretel-style witch, a keeper of a sinister / untrustworthy / threatening type of knowledge. I also really don't like the part of the story where Hama became a serial abductor out of this indiscriminate thirst for revenge. While it's possible in real life for a colonized, incarcerated person to make those decisions, and good fiction can explore that effectively, a children's show is not the place. ATLA's target audience and general tone couldn't handle all the complexities around that, so they turned Hama into a cartoon witchy villain. Groundbreaking.

Anyway, I think the start of The Puppetmaster is actually very promising. Hama's story, and the children's discovery of her SWT roots, was touching. Katara's growing sense of unease at discovering the "darker" uses of waterbending (taking water out of flowers) is interesting. Katara is the perfect character to explore the intricacies of "how far is too far in colonial resistance." Because she's not a pacifist, like Aang, but she's also not a total pragmatist, like Sokka or Suki, and she cares about the fates of random people more than Toph. She's angry and compassionate in equal amounts.

I would love a conversation between Hama and Katara about bloodbending -- not in the dead of night while Katara has to protect her friends, but where Hama talks about the genuine hopelessness she felt in the Fire Nation prison. And Katara could talk about why she thinks bloodbending is wrong -- taking away someone's agency -- and Hama can ask Katara what she would've done in that scenario; maybe she can point out that she could have made the FN guards kill each other, but she only made them open her cell door, so it was the least violent escape she could have done; and I think, framed that way, Katara would have started to see bloodbending not through a lens of fear and disgust, but sheer pragmatism, and realize that all bending can be good or bad.

During the war, I think Katara and Sokka could convince Hama to join them on the Day of the Black Sun: Hama, for the first time in decades, has hope, and she gets to see some of the people who used to be just little kids when she was kidnapped from her home.

After the war, bloodbending would become a hot button issue in North-South relations. I could easily see the Northern waterbenders being horrified at bloodbending, in the same way Medieval Europe & puritan America have been horrified by witchcraft and other feminine-coded knowledge. I could envision the Northerners using bloodbending as justification for why women shouldn't be allowed to waterbend, and justification for why the South is backwards and therefore needs the North's influence (which would also tie nicely into the North and South comic). While Katara is busy with the political BS, Hama is swapping notes with Yugoda the healing master, and then they would eventually arrive at the conclusion that bloodbending could be used to heal.

(I can't take credit for the "Northerners horrified at bloodbending" idea, btw -- colourwhirled's Southern Lights has a storyline around it.)

Anyway, Hama deserved so much better. I like seeing her in AUs where she never had that stupid "kidnapping FN civilians" plot, like the aforementioned Southern Lights, or Lykegenia's The Things We Hide (which I read earlier this year and loved!). Hama and Jet's storylines are why I don’t trust ATLA’s politics, nor the politics of its creators. As much as I love Zuko and find his redemption arc to be an incredible story of a conscientious objector in the heart of the empire, Hama and Jet should have also gotten their redemptions too.

[malarign]

situationship

(when you’re not dating yet)

contains: bf!maknaeline x fem!reader | genre: fluff | tw! none i think! | wc: 0,5k

reblogs are highly appreciated!!!

author’s note: promise that after this i’m going to write the rest of reqs in my inbox 🫡 sorry for the wait anons!!

you’ll find hyung line version here!

Kim Sunoo | 김선우

shy

Everybody knew how sassy and confident Sunoo may be, but the moment you’re in the room with him, he becomes pretty shy and quiet. He enjoys admiring you talking passionately about your hobbies and can’t help a smile that tells everybody in the room how interested he is, including you.

To break the initial ice he calls you nearly every day for “school purposes” just to have an excuse to talk to you more. With time, your phone calls became more like a tea-spilling conversation, which you awaited impatiently every evening. It became your ritual, a tradition none of you wanted to break, even when things got pretty serious between you two.

After a while, he would become more and more confident, talking with you wasn’t a problem anymore, thanks to your regular phone calls. As a result, he established his new favorite spot to place his head which was your shoulder. During those energetic days, he would lay his head there to comfortably show you something on his phone, while during those harsh days, he would doze off almost immediately, the comfort of your touch making him extremely sleepy.

Yang Jungwon | 양정원

pretty shy

Jungwon is so shy but at the same time so good at hiding his nervousness around you, you didn’t even realize you’re actually in a situatinship with him. Everything about his feelings for you is so soft, so delicate, just like a feather. His interest in you is not loud, it’s rather like a whisper, but who would mind?

When I say he is shy, I mean too shy to even take your hand. He just can’t help the blush from making his nervousness obvious at even the slightest touch that involved you. Instead, to try to give you some clue, he intentionally brushes his hand on your while walking, just because if he really did hold it properly his heart would jump out of his chest (no lies, straight facts).

He’s very attentive to you and always takes his time for you. You could just mention you wanted to go on a late-night walk but you were too scared to go alone, he’s already putting his shoes on and getting ready to go to your place. Something about those walks specifically helped him calm down, all thanks to your comforting presence.

Nishimura Riki | 西村力　

both shy and confident

Just like Heeseung, when Riki likes somebody he makes sure the person he’s into knows about his feelings. He makes it very clear, not by his words but by his actions, that never were unintentional. Every smile, every laughter, every joke, everything he did was supposed to show you his heart is full of you.

His absolute favorite way though would be teasing you (you can’t prove me otherwise). Playful jokes and sarcastic comments were his default way to say: “hey! i like you!”. The problem appeared when you teased him back. He would be so taken aback by the way you could place a blush on his cheeks with total ease. His eyes would become bigger and his brain would start to malfunction, unable to stop thinking about it.

Riki sometimes still doesn’t realize how big his body grew, overestimating now only his size but also his strength. That would often result in you being pushed away whenever he playfully bumped into you. At first, he got worried, but soon after saw that as an opportunity to catch you.

thank you for reading! back to the masterlist

taglist: (open) @nicholasluvbot, @en-chantedtomeetyou, @skzenhalove, @nfrgirl, @kpoprhia, @redm4ri, @jaelaxies

[monkey-overalls]

Madoka Magica Headcanons!

I’m also posting a drawing of the Holy Quintet (which will go up immediately after this), but I wanted to write some headcanons for each of them to go with it! I was originally going to put them under “Read More” on the drawing, but I eventually settled on separating the two because of how long the document got hahah.

Sexualities: Madoka, Kyoko, and Homura are all lesbians, Sayaka is bisexual, and Mami is demiromantic-pansexual.

Gender Identities: Madoka is a trans girl (she/her), Sayaka is a demigirl (she/they), and Kyoko, Mami, and Homura are all cis girls.

Height Order (tallest to shortest): Mami (by far), Sayaka, Homura, Madoka, Kyoko

🩷 Madoka 🩷

Loves cheesy romance movies, especially if they’re also coming-of-age stories. As long as they have a happy ending, Madoka will sit through any crappy flick (or an entire marathon of them). Mami joins her most of the time.

As Madokami, she has shimmering star freckles.

Started incorporating more purple into her wardrobe after becoming friends with Homura. At first this was unintentional, but upon noticing it, Madoka leaned even further into the new color scheme, especially after the two got together.

💙 Sayaka 💙

Once tried to learn the violin to impress Kyosuke, but her highly self-critical nature prevented her from going far. She thought he’d find her lackluster performance embarrassing.

100% had a crush on Madoka at some point, and only fully realized it once she came to terms with her feelings for Kyosuke. In some timelines she continues to pine for Madoka, while in others she starts falling for Kyoko instead. Maybe they form a polycule in another timeline or two (they do, they definitely do).

Despite what she may say, Sayaka (taken by the Law of Cycles) can never truly bring herself to hate Homura. She can’t help but empathize with her struggles and her descent into despair, as Sayaka remembers each and every time she hurt herself and the people around her out of sadness and anger.

❤️ Kyoko ❤️

Has burns running down her arms from when she tried to save her family from the fire started by her father. As far as I know, it’s never explicitly stated how exactly he went about killing them, but taking into account all of of the fire symbolism surrounding Kyoko and the imagery of her father’s head turning into a shattering lantern, I’m going to go with arson.

Doesn’t actually like tea all that much, but for a while she drank it at Mami’s apartment to be polite—after all, food is how Kyoko shows she cares about others. Mami caught on pretty quickly, however, and now stocks hot chocolate with mini marshmallows specifically for her.

In timelines where Mami dies, Kyoko squats in her apartment until police eventually catch on to her disappearance. From there, Kyoko moves in with Sayaka… until, you know.

💛 Mami 💛

Sleeps with a massive pile of stuffed animals so she never feels lonely. She’s never gotten rid of a single one, and, knowing this, her friends’ go-to gift for her is another plushie to add to her collection.

The beauty mark on her cheek is fake; she paints it on every morning.

In timelines where she and Nagisa live (including Homura’s rewritten world) they live together in Mami’s apartment. Their favorite activity is playing board games. Mami always lets Nagisa choose, and they love going out to search for more.

💜 Homura 💜

Constant eye bags. This girl never sleeps. Even before the time loop she suffered from extreme insomnia, which only worsened as her mental state declined. Mami gives her tea to help her sleep better, which helps a little but not enough to give her a healthy schedule.

Never takes Madoka’s ribbon off, even when she sleeps. The only exception is when she washes her hair, because that would obviously ruin it.

Has a secret sweet tooth that only Kyoko knows about (she hooks her up with the best sweets). Homura likes to present herself as a “one black coffee” type of girl, when in reality she could never drink a cup without a substantial amount of sugar.

[shin-meddlesome-hero]

Some notes on Char’s Counterattack while it’s still fresh in my brain and right before I watch video-essays about how I didn’t understand the movie. (With spoilers)

For starters, it was as gay as promised. I’ve seen the Charmuro scuffle scene like a million times and it turned out to actually be gayer in context. For me, this is the aftermath of a very bitter and harsh divorce. The thing is already unsalvageable. They still try to talk it out every time they’re near each other, but Amuro is about to give up on Char completely (if he hasn’t, already). He even tells Lalah that he doesn’t want to be with that guy for all eternity as newtype ghosts, that’s how done he’s with Char.

As with Char, it feels that we needed another anime season or at least a couple of OVA’s to explain how he got there. I know that it had something to do with how disillusioned he was by the events at the end of Zeta, but the movie feels like it needed to give more context about him. It’s very clear that his ideals take a back seat in favor of his real motivations. He just wants to get back at the universe. Would trowing a meteor and freezing Earth actually help Earth’s restoration and humanity’s evolution? Did he stop to think that by doing such thing he’ll get Sayla and Kamille killed? Or was he too far gone to care about anyone that isn’t Lalah and maybe Amuro?

This may be unintentional but it’s amusing that the first part of Quess Paraya’s arc looks like a teen girl’s power fantasy: she meets Amuro, she gets adopted by Char, she happens to be the most special Newtype who becomes an ace pilot in a few days, there’s two boys after her, Char entrusts her to act on special missions and she even gets to kill her lousy dad. Under this framework it makes sense that she acts so selfishly all the time. Of course this later takes a dark turn when she starts feeling all the horrors of war and eventually gets killed by one of the older women she antagonized. Despite her not being a nice person at all, she was only a kid who was affected by her family situation and desperately needed a father figure. Amuro was honest enough to realize that he couldn’t fulfill that need (and he didn’t have to), on the other hand, Char admits that he took advantage of her and used her as a machine. He would’ve never done that to Kamille, that’s how low he’s fallen.

Finally, Char’s last words were about how Lalah Sune could’ve been a mother to him, showing that at the end he was unable to get over both his mother’s and Lalah’s death, which is very tragic from a man that most of the time came out as Larger than Life. However, none of this justifies his actions. Char’s Counterattack was the last piece in the puzzle that is Char Aznable, and after watching it, all I can conclude is that he’s kind of a loser, isn’t he?

(Yes, I’m aware that it’s way more complicated than that, there’s still much to say about how he projected on Amuro and the nature of his relationships with other characters of the franchise among other topics like Amuro’s growth and Hathaway’s arc, but these are just preliminary thoughts. I may do a more thoughtful review once I write more about Zeta and ZZ. Also those video essays about how I Don’t Understand Char are still on my to-watch list, my perspective could change after getting through all that).

[hismercytomyjustice]

My husband effortlessly outmaneuvered my OCD today. I am still in awe.

I didn’t want to go to my piano lesson. Last week was ROUGH. On top of still struggling with this more advanced piece, I had major migraine brain fog.

The good news is that I didn’t want to fake my own death or wind up in near tears after. Yay, progress! But it wasn’t the best experience otherwise. It was just really frustrating and humiliating to struggle so much.

This more advanced piece has been triggering my OCD like crazy too.

I told him I didn’t want to go today because I hadn’t practiced enough.

He responded with “So?”

It was exactly the right answer. Even though I still tried to push back with, “I haven’t made enough progress.”

And he was just like “The point of you going is to practice. And you did practice.”

“I haven’t practiced enough.”

“Not going isn’t going to help with that.”

T^T !!!

(extended OCD rant below the cut)

I had similar convos with my therapist where she’s insisted that the only thing I need to do for piano is show up for my lessons. That is the only expectation.

My piano teacher would disagree with that, lol. But I get what she’s saying. Because my desire for “doing it right/enough” is my perfectionism OCD talking.

Which is why piano is such good unintentional ERP for me. Because it upsets my perfectionism OCD so much. My therapist has said this multiple times now.

Lol, I also finally told my piano teacher I have OCD and that my OCD loves piano. In that it loves to tell me how bad I am at it. He was telling me last week, “Just play through, it doesn’t have to be perfect.”

Which has become his new mantra for me lately. orz I was playing some for my husband too to show him how far I’ve come and he said the same thing because I kept stopping when I’d mess up. “Just play it through.”

It is SO HARD TO though. Especially with how hard my OCD focuses on every single mistake I make. Which just leads to building anxiety and more mistakes.

I’ve had moments where I’m struggling while practicing and have literally had to tell myself “practicing will only help, it can’t make you worse at this.”

Because lord knows avoidance is one of my favorite compulsions. Because you can’t be bad at something if you don’t do it, amirite? (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

God, I also realized my OCD has eased up a bit when it comes to writing (sort of), but now it’s decided to focus on replying to comments on my fics instead. Something I genuinely enjoy doing because getting comments fills my heart with rainbows. It gets riled up with me trying to leave comments too.

My perfectionism OCD has decided this is a great time to overthink every single word I type. Just a constant stream of “You have to give the perfect reply to a comment, otherwise people won’t think you’re grateful enough for them taking the time to comment and they won’t want to read your fic anymore and they’ll hate you.”

And “You’ve left comments on other fics that people have said made their day. If you don’t leave a good enough comment or if you don’t comment at all, they’ll think you don’t like their fic anymore. You know how happy getting comments makes you. If you don’t comment on everything you read, that makes you a bad person.”

None of that is true, ofc. I know it’s not true. I know it’s not even logical. But it is all triggering my avoidance SO HARD. Because I can’t mess it up if I don’t do it at all! So now I have a bunch of comments that have piled up and a bunch of fics I’ve read that I haven’t commented on and I’m starting to ruminate on all of it.

And it’s just like…so objectively ridiculous. That’s not self-compassion, I know. But like, it feels so absurd to be in an OCD spiral over this. Where I am actively spending more time agonizing (ruminating) over the fact that I haven’t done either than it would take to just…reply or leave a comment on a fic.

Like. This is not a life or death situation. This doesn’t even have to be a situation! And yet the spiral continues. I stress, I avoid, I stress about avoiding. And I waste time and energy and brainpower on all of it.

I have the same issue with the other fics I’ve promised too. I’ve been deep into the final chapters of my kid!Alastor fic and hyper focusing on it as a result. But I have been talking about posting Part 8 of my Radioapple series for so long. I threw 8k words at it like a month ago and then started overthinking it and then started worrying about falling behind on my kid!fic. The same for the BG3 oneshot I drafted. All I need to do is edit it so I can post it. But editing to me = executive function (writing somehow does not…?). And, again, I wanted to get caught up on my kid!fic. So now I feel guilty for not finishing it and posting when I said I would.

None of this is anything I should feel guilty for! And I know that. I am doing all of this FOR FUN.

It is supposed to be fun!

AND YET.

Ugh. Not me over here like “My OCD hasn’t been that bad! Why can’t I get anything done?”

Because it picked new things to obsess over and I was late to the party on realizing that. ( ˶ •̀ ⤙ •́ ˶ )

I’m glad I’m meeting with my psychiatrist tomorrow. My depression has been better but now that I’m aware my OCD is ~clinically severe~, I’m hoping maybe she can help get me on something that will do more to help with it. Because while the meds I’m currently on are preventing me from a full blown relapse, I don’t think they’ve been very effective at straight up treating my OCD otherwise.

I’m really hoping a different medication will help. It’s just frustrating to be putting all this work into therapy and all, but not seeing more of a reduction in my symptoms.

Literally one of the questions on the YBOC is: “How anxious would you feel if you were prevented from performing your compulsive behaviors?”

I told her it wouldn’t make me anxious because I don’t WANT to do the compulsions. And if I had a magic button in my head that would make them easier to resist, it would be the greatest thing ever. The compulsions are what’s making me anxious. Most of the time I don’t realize I’m obsessing or compulsing.

So then I get frustrated and upset at myself for not getting things done and it’s only then that I’m like, “Wait, is this an OCD spiral?”

If I could get better at recognizing them sooner and acting sooner, I think it’d go a long way toward helping me. The thing is, I don’t know if this is a medication thing or a me thing and tbh I’m worried it’s a me thing. That I’m not doing something right, and that’s why I’m having such a hard time with it all.

I really hope that’s not the case. Like, I am DESPERATE to get out of these never-ending loops. I just really, really hope that the will is already there and that a different medication can help get my OCD under control enough for me to actually make progress.

T^T Guess I’ll find out tomorrow. Lol, not me stressing now that my psychiatrist is just gonna be like “Your problem is that you aren’t trying hard enough!” Because I think my problem is trying so hard to the point I unintentionally actively sabotage myself… Like I’m trying to fight perfectionism OCD with gasoline instead of water or something.

Ugh. Fingers crossed she can give me some better insight into all this tomorrow.

I’m just curious now too if my OCD has always been this bad and I’m only just now realizing it, or if it’s just been worse in general over the past year or so for whatever reason.

FIX ME, SCIENCE! FIX ME!!!

[sunflowersandsapphires]

Fall Drabbles, Day 10

Happy Halloween everyone!

prompt: halloween candy

pairing: Frank Castle x fem!Reader

summary: Frank has a frustrating habit of eating all of the candy meant for trick or treaters.

warnings: swearing, fluff

a/n: AHHHH I hope this is a good enough apology for my lack of writing. I updated my posting schedule and posted that, but everything has been postponed for 2 weeks so I can catch up. Thank you everyone, I hope you enjoy.

w/c: <1k

Honestly, this whole issue boiled down to you being an enabler, even if your enabling was unintentional. A couple of weeks ago, you’d started stockpiling Halloween candy. It made sense at the time; your local store was having a sale and there was no way that you’d eat through 6 bags of fun size candy in three weeks. 

Unfortunately for you and the prospective trick or treaters in your building, you had not factored in your husband nor his endless stomach. It was the 26th and you only had 3 bags left—one of which was currently opened and positioned between Frank’s legs for easy access. 

Sighing as you watched him add another metallic shred of plastic to the growing candy wrapper pile, you moved to stand in front of him and crossed your arms. Pointedly ignoring you, Frank peeked around your ass to continue watching the game on the tv. The barely visible smirk at the edge of his lips threatened to send you into a rampage. 

“Frank.” You said tersely, glaring at him. He refused to look at you, smirk no longer hidden as he tore open yet another mini Milky Way and popped it into his mouth. 

“Frank!” You growled, hands unfolding to land on your hips. Your husband, ever the asshole, opened two pieces of candy this time. 

“Francis David Castiglione!” You snapped, whipping the remote off the table and shutting the tv off. After the day you’d had, you were in no mood for his games. 

Seemingly realizing that you were serious when you pulled the full-name card, Frank turned to you with wide eyes, smirk vanishing. 

“I told you to stop eating the candy. Want to tell me why I came home to you eating from a new bag on the couch?” You raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Sweetheart, I—“ He started, but you held up a hand. 

“Don’t you ‘sweetheart’ me, Castle. I’m upset with you! I bought this candy so that we could give it out on Halloween! At the rate you’re consuming it, we won’t have a single piece this weekend,” You pouted, arms folding across your chest again as you waited for his apology. 

“My darlin’, beautiful wife,” Frank began, clearly not worried about pushing more of your buttons. “I am sorry I ate more of the candy, I didn’t realize how much it meant to ya, honey. If it’ll make you happy, I’ll go replenish our stock right now.”

Striding over to you, he held his hands out in a gesture of good will before pulling you into an embrace. Or, rather, trying to pull you into an embrace. You dodged his outstretched hands, throwing him a wicked look. “It’s the 26th, Frank. The 26th! All of the good candy will be sold out!! We’ll have to give out sixlets, or carrots or some other crap and the kids will hate us and then the word will spread and then we’ll be egged or something! And then—“ 

Interrupting you with a bellowing laugh, Frank beamed at you, unphased by your murderous stare. “Sweetheart, tell me you’re not serious.” 

“Of course I’m serious, Frank! I want the kids to like me and you’re going to ruin it!!” You groused, the small cloud of fear that you’d been carrying around this month seeping into your tone. Frank noticed the genuine emotion, eyes softening as he tilted your chin up so he could look into your eyes. 

“Hey, what’s goin’ on in that pretty head of yours? Talk to me, sweets.” 

Sighing, you collapsed against his sturdy chest, letting the confession bubble out of you as he stroked his large palm over your back. “It’s our first Halloween as a married couple, Frank. We just moved into this building and we’re one of the only apartments without kids. I just…I want them to like me, to like us. I want us to fit in, to be normal for a day.” 

Frank hummed in response, processing your words before speaking. “I didn’t know it meant that much to you, honey, I’m sorry. And I’m sorry that I can’t give ya the white picket fence and the 2.5 kids—“

“Shit, no, Frank!” Pulling back to cup his cheek, you traced a finger over his jaw. “I didn’t mean it like that, handsome. I don’t want those things from you, I love you as you are! I just want us to have a good Halloween, is all. And I’d really really prefer not to be egged. That would be great.”

Huffing a laugh, your gorgeous spouse pressed a few scratchy kisses against your palm before tugging you back against his torso, guiding your hands around his waist. “I’ll buy my own candy and replace the stuff I ate. And if any of those fuckin’ kids so much as think about egging our door, I’ll beat ‘em up.” 

Chuckling fondly, you stood on your tiptoes to plant a kiss on his mouth. “I love you.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

[littlechaoticwitch]

Winx Club Rewrite: Season 2

I understand this is me being very late to the party, but that's pretty on-brand for me at this point lol

A few years ago, I started to work on a possible rewrite for Fate: The Winx Saga but it soon became this monstrous project of rewriting the entire franchise. Because while this series is one of my beloved childhood series, it is also very messy with its world-building and plotlines, as well being done dirty over and over again by its countless reboots. As much as I would have loved to create a full-on alternative universe like the ones I've seen on tumblr for years, it just took up so much of my time that could have been spent on other projects and it was starting to feel more like a chore than anything else. Eventually, I did create some fashion boards for how to translate their outfits from the show into real life, and wrote up some concept ideas for their live-action costumes, which led to me just writing up the notes I had for the rewrite to share them with y'all.

Some of these ideas were inspired by other people's rewrite of the series, some of these ideas came to me while writing this up, and a lot of these are my attempt to make sense of Winx Club's fucked-up lore. While these were originally written with a live-action reboot in mind, these could also work for an animated reboot targeted for teens/young adults.

This is probably the extent I'll do for any sort of Winx Club rewrite, but it was still fun!

-Instead of Lord Darker, the main villain of this season is Acheron, the leader of the Ancestral Witch's cult. After freeing them from Light Rock, Acheron forced the Trix into accepting his "gifts" and do his bidding. In the end, the trio decide to help the Winx defeat Acheron, as the abuse they suffered at his hands had reach a breaking point, and afterwards, they are sent to Light Rock as punishment.

-Helia is a female Specialist. She is introduced trying to save the Pixies and finds herself at Alfea after barely escaping the first time, leading the Winx to help her out. Through the season, she ends up striking a romantic interest in Flora, and after saving the Pixies, she decides to rejoin Red Fountain after her great-uncle Saladin begs her to keep Sky's team in line.

-Nabu is introduced during the Red Fountain opening ceremony, where he pretends to be a hired bodyguard for Aisha, despite her being annoyed at the mere idea; the only time she is fine with him acting like her bodyguard is when it scares off potential suitors. Turns out, he ran away from home after overhearing his parents plan out his future, and upon realizing they share similar home lives, the two grow closer together.

-During a trip to Earth, Musa meets a Korean American tattoo artist named Nex Park, where they strike up a friendship after finding out they share mutual love for music.

-Unfortunately, Musa and Riven never get to make amends for what happened during their toxic relationship, as he actually does die when helping the girls during the final battle. The only positive impact is that upon seeing Acheron killing Riven (and attempting to kill Musa), it creates a crack in his control over Bloom.

-Bloom tries to have a relationship with Sky, but it begins to take its toll. This is a result of the pressure she feels of becoming queen consort one day (caused by his parents), the pressure his parents are putting on her to revive her dead planet (as they see it as an opportunity to strength their political statue), the guilt they both feel for how their relationship started, and the unintentional neglect she receives from Sky as he begins his royal training. Acheron uses this as a chance to disguise himself as a teacher and manipulate Bloom, feeding into her new to learn more about her home-world and birth parents by teasing at the idea that they might still be alive. While it is clear Sky does care deeply for Bloom, his own upbringing and high expectations (in terms of what a royal couple should be like) have a negative influence on their relationship.

-Instead of getting mad at him, Tecna accidentally shuts Timmy out when he starts treating her like an actual human being (the complete opposite to how people are treated back on Zenith). Once they begin to talk things out, it's clear they're in love with one another but not ready to make things official nor do they need a label

-Princess Amentia's role is taken by Chimera, who is the young leader of a Solarian coven. While the coven is not evil whatsoever, Chimera believes Stella to be a "brat" of a princess and takes a strong interest in Brandon, though her plans for marriage are foiled when Stella interrupts the ceremony.

-Jared's storyline with Musa is not included in this season

-Bloom's friends are the ones to break Acheron's control over her, as their love for her is much stronger than anything else.

-Musa earns her Charmix by coming to terms with her mother's death at the concert, Stella earns her Charmix by accepting her parents are getting a divorce (and they are not getting back together), and Aisha earns her Charmix by standing up to her parents, who do not understand her decision to become a fairy. Bloom is unable to earn her Charmix while under Acheron's influence, but once she is set free from his control, she earns it by admitting she lost faith in her friends and overcoming her need to do everything by herself, leading to them having their first successful convergence spell.

-Charmix is now the perfect blend of both the base fairy form and Enchantix, acting as a true steppingstone for the fairies as they reach their final form. The brooches will become their Fairy Dust bottles, and while they do not get bags, the motifs of their bags are present in Charmix's designs.

[teecupangel]

*Jumps through the window* Desmond after sacrificing himself is thrown into the time of Bayek (Maybe like a Yew Branches?). Maybe because of Issue technology or some bug of the Eye he becomes immortal and is know by the assassins as this hooded figure of the legends. There are record of people that saw him at the important moments for the brotherhood or is mentioned to give some forgotten knowledge or advice to people...... i just want people to think that Desmond is this badass figure in brotherhood history, when in reality he is sweating his ass and is full chaos mod.

*Jumps out of different window*

*stares at the only window in their room wondering how the hell nonny was able to fit thru that*

*rummages all over the blog for that specific ask that does have immortal!Desmond in it*

*search of immortal or mask does not yield the ask*

*ask for help from duckduckgo instead of tumblr’s sucky search bar*

Lo and behold!

Immortal!Desmond ask that I answered using sorta-kinda Outsider POV

He’s more or less deitified in that ask so it’ll be super funny to think that he’s making such a big impact in history and is known as an absolutely powerful figure and they all think he’s cool but, in reality, he’s flying by the seat of his pants.

Oh, don’t get him wrong.

He had sorta an idea of what to do.

But that’s because he went to Altaïr first and Altaïr felt both sorry for the fact that he has no idea what to do and annoyed by the fact that he has no idea what to do so the two of them spent most of their time just planning Desmond’s next moves for the next 600 years or so. 

Then Ezio came along and Leonardo was able to make sense of all his ramblings about techs he and Altaïr sorta started and kinda finished.

Edward was purely by chance, and he will never let down the fact that Edward had found him by fishing him out of the waters while he went diving for treasures.

Okay. Haytham becoming an Assassin was intentional. Matchmaking was not his strong point and he always fucked that up so badly because all his meddling only made Haytham and Kaniehtí:io sorta-kinda hate each other. Bless Edward for being able to fix that.

Desmond was only planning to take a vacay for a bit. That’s why he joined Shay. Realizing that taking out the POE would be bad? Yeah. That was unintentional. Making Shay freak out because he was freaking out because that POE looked ready to just drop off its container like the little bitch that it was? Yeah… definitely not intentional. Desmond and Shay swore never to talked about that incident. 

In Desmond’s defense… He didn’t help Arno broker peace between the Assassins and Tempalrs. That was all Arno and his supporters. Desmond had been… preoccupied by de Sade’s writings to actually be of any help. Oh. Well, Desmond guessed he did take the Sword of Eden and beat Germaine on the head with it while Arno was busy with the negotiations and trying to pretend that he hadn’t been banging the new Grand Master of the Templar Order for years now. 

Desmond would like to stress that he didn’t provide council to the Frye Twins. Unless one counts “Noooo, don’t do that” and “Wh… why are you doing this? No, seriously… talk me through your thought process on how you got to this plan” and, Jayadeep’s favorite, “Uh-huh… and then?”. Desmond spent his entire time in London in Kenway manor, just chilling then Jayadeep would come barging in asking for his help because of the next Frye patented idea one of the twins have. They weren’t bad. It was just… Evie might pretend that she’s good at planning and she is. The twins just see the word improvise as ‘the first thing we think of which is usually the most chaotic thing we can think of’ and double-down on that.

Honestly...

Desmond was already dreading the shenanigans that will happen after he takes this timeline's Desmond Miles under his wings.

But fuck it.

He'd been winging this from the beginning and he'll continue to wing this.

And just...

Hope for the best...?

[beckettj]

1 Year Repost: There's No Harm in Repeating (A CS oneshot)

It's been a year since I posted the oneshot I probably had the most fun writing so here it is again!

Summary: Killian Jones has lived in apartment 204 for a year and has never exchanged more than ‘hellos’ with Emma Swan in apartment 205. That is until a run-in with her son, Henry, results in the boy doing some unintentional matchmaking. For how else do you find out what a woman thinks of you, if not through her four-year-old son?

A Captain Swan as neighbors au featuring Captain Cobra moments.

Words: 4432

Read on AO3

A flask of coffee in hand, Killian Jones stepped out of his crappy apartment, into the just as crappy hallway, to the oh-so-familiar sweet sound of arguing travelling up the stairwell from the entrance hall below.

“Who the hell do you think you are, Emma? You have no right to stop me from seeing my own son!”

“Look at yourself, Neal! You can barely stand! You’re hardly in any fit state to look after yourself, let alone a four-year-old boy!”

Emma Swan. The irritation was clear in her voice, as it travelled up the pungent staircase that Killian started to take down, yet it was her voice which reminded him of the single reason why he hadn’t moved the hell out of the crappy apartment building at any point in the last year. Even when shouting, screaming at her dickhead of an ex with all her might, her voice was as captivating as a siren’s song, drawing him in as the rest of the world fell away around him.

“Every fucking time, Emma! There’s always something with you, isn’t there? You can never just hand him over without causing a scene.”

“Perhaps that has something to do with the fact that you are never able to turn up sober. You need help, Neal.”

“Leave off! I’m perfectly fine.”

“I’d almost believe you, if it weren’t for the slurring.” She let out a heavy sigh. “I can’t believe this! No, in fact, I can! I can totally believe this! This is textbook you, Neal! You get his hopes up and then you let him down.”

“Let him down? I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Yes, and utterly shit-faced, you damn asshole.”

Killian chuckled to himself, having heard enough of their arguments through the building's thin walls to be invested enough to back Emma over her alcoholic ex. He’d also overheard enough to know that when Emma resorted to cursing, she was well and truly pissed. 

Commotions were a frequent occurrence in the apartment complex. Day or night, the residents just did not care. Killian had quickly learned that the best way to cope with it all, was to just treat the whole thing like a soap drama; it was almost more compelling than the ones on television. It wasn’t just Emma and Neal; there was enough drama in the building for him to develop his own soap drama television show if he wanted. If it wasn’t Emma, his lovely neighbor in apartment 205, arguing with her ex, it was the guy in apartment 101 making direct complaints over noise levels, someone accusing the pickpocket in 219 of theft, the guy in 117 finding a megaphone through which to broadcast his crazed ramblings that no one could make any sense of, or the young man in 301 hosting his midnight raves which attracted all the youth in the city like the bloody Pied Piper.

Yes, life in Enchanted View apartments was just charming. And extremely entertaining, in a guilty pleasure kind of way.

The arguing continued as Killian made his way down the stairs, obscenities and insults getting thrown back and forth as Emma went for it in giving Neal a piece of her mind. Killian had to hold back a cheer of satisfaction that she was finally doing such a thing; making himself realize just how invested he had gotten. 

He stayed quiet, not wanting to draw any attention to himself. He hoped to get by unnoticed, to slip out onto the street, and go about his day, leaving them to their dispute. It was only when he reached the bottom step that he determined such a feat to be impossible for Emma Swan stood in the building doorway, blocking his way. Or rather, preventing her tool of an ex-boyfriend from gaining entry to the building. Neal was bladdered; completely and utterly bladdered. Killian had known, from his slurred words, that he was drunk, but the man stood before Emma was well and truly hammered, incapable of standing still, staggering around the doorstep. His movements were slow and shaky, resulting in any attempt he made to get past Emma looking weak and pathetic. The only danger there was of Neal getting over the threshold were if he were to fall flat on his face. Killian chuckled lightly to himself, amused by such a scenario playing out in his head.

“I promised I’d take him bowling so I’m damn well going to take him bowling.”

“Maybe you should have thought about that before you chose to go heavy on the booze for breakfast. It’s not happening, Neal.”

“I’m not leaving ‘til I see him. Where the hell is he? Henry! Henry!”

“Cut it out, Neal. You really don’t want him to see you like this.”

“Oh, lighten up, Emma.”

Killian moved off the bottom step, with the plan to slip out through the back door which led into the side alley. Yet, as he began said plan, his eyes fell on the very boy at the core of the adults’ argument. Henry. The four-year-old sat patiently on the bench, positioned opposite the out-of-order elevator, a book open in his hands. Peter Pan, Killian read from the cover. Henry’s head was buried in the book, avidly inspecting the colourful pictures within it but, every now and then, whenever his parents’ voices rose or his name came up, the boy’s head would shoot out of the book, sending an apprehensive glance towards the doorway in which his equally unrelenting parents stood.

Killian thought back to his own childhood, to all the times his mother argued with his drunk father. He recalled how much he hated it, how he always found a way to blame himself for their arguing, and how useless he had felt every time; the urge to help his mother conflicting with the fear of how his father may react if he did. Killian couldn’t help but see himself in Henry but with one key difference; Liam had been there for Killian, right by his side, throughout every argument. Henry had no one, an only child, sat alone on the bench, just a book for company.

Killian wondered over to the young boy, taking up the empty space on the bench beside him.

“What have you got there, lad?” Killian asked, nodding to the book in Henry’s hands.

“A book,” the four-year-old responded with the obvious.

Killian chuckled to himself; ask a stupid question.

“That a good book?” Killian tried again, determined to strike up conversation to distract the lad from the scene behind him.

The boy shrugged, lacking enthusiasm, “It’s okay.”

Henry’s head turned to the entrance again, just in time to see his father attempt to force Emma’s arm out of the way, only to stumble backwards and fall into a pillar.

“Do you want me to help you read it?” Killian offered, successfully drawing the boy’s attention back onto him.

“That’s okay, thank you,” Henry politely declined his offer. “I look at the pictures and make up my own story.”

“Do you now?” Killian replied. “Care to tell me one?”

Henry smiled at him and nodded enthusiastically. He pointed to the picture in his book, a crocodile circling the waters around the Jolly Roger.

“Once upon a time, Peter Pan took a girl called Wendy to a place called Neverland and they flied there but actually, properly flied, not on an aeroplane, with, like, magic and stuff, and it was an island but there were no animals on the island and Wendy was sad because she loves animals,” Henry began to tell his story.

“Oh, why were there no animals?” Killian asked.

“They went in the water with the crocodile,” Henry answered.

Killian wasn’t quite sure what the four-year-old was implying with that statement.

“So, they all went to live in the water with the croc?” Killian checked.

“No!” Henry protested, looking at him like he was stupid. “The crocodile ate them all up!”

“Well, that’s not very kind,” Killian responded.

“Duh, he’s the bad guy,” Henry said.

Killian laughed; that told him.

“Good point,” he conceded.

“Are you going to let me tell the rest of the story?” Henry asked pointedly.

“Sorry, lad, sure, go ahead,” Killian encouraged.

“There was also a very, very, very bad guy on the island and his name was Captain Hook! He was a pirate who got everyone’s treasure and didn’t like Peter Pan or Wendy,” Henry continued, putting a great level of emphasis on certain words. “Peter Pan and Wendy didn’t like Captain Hook because he was naughty and didn’t have kind hands or kind words so they went to fight him. With swords! And a tyrannosaurus rex! And a dragon! But Captain Hook was really stronger and a gooder fighter and he pushed the tyrannosaurus rex and the dragon and Peter Pan and Wendy into the water and the crocodile ate them all up!”

Henry grinned, looking really proud of himself for coming up with such an exciting story. Killian raised an eyebrow.

“Aren’t the good guys supposed to win?” Killian asked.

“But that’s boring!” Henry defended his story.

“True,” Killian conceded with a chuckle. “And I must admit, it was a twist I didn’t see coming. You’re quite the storyteller, lad.”

Henry beamed at him, completely distracted from the argument raging on behind him.

“That’s what I want to do when I’m bigger!” Henry spoke enthusiastically, bouncing up and down on the bench. “I want to be a story maker!”

“I’m sure you’ll make a fine story maker,” Killian encouraged, smiling at the boy.

“I’m going to make stories about castles and princes and princesses and space and pirates and dragons and dinosaurs!” Henry told him eagerly, speaking at a hundred miles per hour.

“Wow, that’s a lot of stories,” Killian remarked.

“My favorite dinosaur is the tyrannosaurus rex,” Henry segued slightly, once again impressing Killian with his pronunciation.

“Good choice, lad. Those are the big ones,” Killian replied.

“But they’re all extinct now,” Henry spoke matter-of-factly.

“That’s a big word you’ve used there,” Killian commented as the four-year-old continued to impress him with his vocabulary. “Do you know what it means?”

“It means they’re all gone,” Henry answered confidently. “They died and turned into fossils which is good because if they weren’t died they would eat us all up!”

“You’re just full of knowledge, aren’t you?” Killian mused.

Henry grinned at him, seemingly appreciating the compliment. Killian was just happy to have lifted his spirits slightly, even if it was only temporary. The commotion in the doorway was bound to end eventually and he couldn’t pretend to know how things would proceed from there. In the meantime, Killian was more than happy to keep the lad company; it was far better than the boy sitting on his own, listening to every word his parents exchanged.

“My name’s Killian, by the way,” he introduced himself.

He had seen the boy around the apartment building on multiple occasions. They had even nearly bumped into each other several times; the energetic boy didn’t have the best spatial awareness. They had smiled at each other, waved on occasion, and Killian had exchanged the odd ‘hello’ with his mother, but no official introductions had ever been made. Killian suddenly realized that his conversation with the boy meant that he had had more interaction with young Henry than with the boy’s mother. As good company as the boy provided, something had gone seriously wrong with that one.

“I’m Henry,” the boy introduced himself in return.

Little did the four-year-old know that Killian already knew his name. The apartment walls weren’t exactly thick, and Henry wasn’t quite as well behaved behind closed doors as he was when out in public. There were a few times each week where Emma got forced into resorting to shouting her son’s name to get him to listen to her.

“Nice to meet you, Henry,” Killian smiled at him.

The boy smiled back in return and Killian took a pause from the conversation to take a swig of his coffee whilst thinking of the next question to ask to continue his distraction attempts.

Henry spoke up first, “My mommy says fucking hell.”

Killian spluttered and choked on his coffee as it went down the wrong hole. He promptly recovered and looked at the boy beside him who was looking up at him with such sweet, innocent hazel eyes. There was no way, Killian decided, that such a young boy had said what he thought he had just heard.

“Sorry, kid, I missed that one,” Killian told him.

Henry replied, assured and matter of fact in what he was saying, “My mommy says fucking hell.”

Bloody fucking hell. Killian was out of his depth the second he had struck up a conversation with the boy, let alone when he found himself having to deal with a four-year-old cursing.

“I don’t think you should be repea-”

“That’s what my mommy says to my daddy.”

Killian couldn’t help himself and let out a loud laugh. He glanced at Neal and took in the man’s inebriated state; the way he staggered as he tried, and failed, again, to force his way past Emma who stood strong in the doorway, continuing to refuse to relinquish her position. A series of slurred insults poured out of Neal’s mouth, all directed at Emma and none of them harbouring even a slither of truth.

Killian turned back to Henry, his own chain of choice words coming to mind when he thought of Neal.

“Honestly, lad, I don’t blame her,” Killian remarked.

Henry glanced down at his book and absent-mindedly flicked through a couple of pages, barely glancing at the pictures. Killian took the momentary pause in conversation as another chance to take a swig of his coffee.

“Killian?” Henry spoke up again.

“What’s up, lad?” Killian returned.

“Are you going to have a sleepover with mommy?” Henry shot a random question at him.

Killian frowned, wondering where the boy could have possibly gotten that question from, before answering, “Not that I know of.”

“Oh,” Henry’s shoulders slumped, radiating disappointment.

“What makes you ask?” Killian questioned curiously.

Henry sat up straighter and set his book down on the bench. He turned back to Killian, his eyes wide with excitement.

“Once upon a time, I had a scary nightmare at night-time and it was really, really, really late because it was really, really black out my window,” Henry delved into what Killian feared for a moment was going to be another story ending with everyone getting eaten up, rather than an answer to his question. “And because I was scared, I wanted my mommy and I found her in the living room and she was drinking wine!”

“Did she drink it all up?” Killian asked.

“She drank loads of it. Mommy says wine is really nice but I don’t know because she won’t let me try because I’m not big enough. She says it’s a grown-up drink,” Henry said, instantly making Killian regret asking, distracting the boy from the original point. “Mommy says too much wine make you silly like Daddy, and not in a good way like a clown, but she said she needs wine sometimes to deal with Daddy. She says Daddy drives her round the bend.”

Killian laughed and made a mental note to watch every single thing he said around the boy, picking up on his habit to repeat things he heard. He guided the lad back to the original point, “What were you saying about a sleepover?”

“Oh, yes!” Henry grinned at the reminder. “Mommy was drinking wine with her friend Mary Margaret and I heard Mommy say that she wanted the man next door in her bed. That’s you.”

Killian knew it was him before Henry had even pointed it out to him, given the resident in apartment 206 was a woman. He smiled to himself and looked knowingly across at Emma. She still had her back to him, too caught up in dealing with Neal and was probably totally oblivious to his presence there. She wasn’t, however, oblivious to his presence in the apartment next door; her kid had just made that much clear to him.

She may have been drunk at the time of Henry’s earwigging, but drunk meant free of inhibition which meant there had to be some level of truth to her words. It had been a year since he had moved in, and it was the first hint he had ever received that she was at all interested in him. With nothing but passing exchanges of ‘hellos’, Killian had assumed otherwise but, after talking to Henry, he put the pieces together, realizing that she was essentially a single mother, single-handedly bringing up a four-year-old with a pathetic excuse for a father, which undoubtedly left little room for dating. If he wanted to be more than neighbors exchanging the odd polite hello, he was going to have to make the first move and, armed with the knowledge Henry had given him, he was suddenly extremely eager to do so.

If only Neal would give up already. The man was still arguing his case to Emma.

“So?” Henry spoke up, forcing Killian to take his eyes off Emma and return them to her son. “Are you going to have a sleepover?”

“We’ll see,” Killian responded, trying to be as careful as he could with his choice of words.

‘Killian wants to have a sleepover with you’ coming out of Henry’s mouth was not the way he wanted to approach asking Emma out.

“Are you going to be my new daddy?”

Killian was so glad he wasn’t drinking his coffee in that moment for he would have choked on it again. He stared at the kid, unsure if he really wanted to find out where that question had come from and yet, he was curious.

He couldn’t help himself, “What makes you ask that?”

“When Mommy said that she wanted you in her bed, Mary Margaret said that you would make a better daddy for me than my daddy,” Henry recalled then sighed, dropping his head and inspecting his shoes. “My daddy’s rubbish. He never does anything he says he’s going to do.”

Killian made a mental note to thank Mary Margaret, if he ever met her, for dropping him in it with that one.

“Your daddy’s not rubbish, Henry,” Killian reluctantly forced the words out. “He just needs… a bit of help.”

A lot of help. And Neal needed to accept that fact too.

Henry frowned, looking slightly disappointed, “So… you’re not going to be my new daddy?”

“You’ve already got a daddy, Henry. And maybe, if he gets that little bit of help, he’ll be able to be a good daddy. And if not, maybe in the future Mummy will find you a better daddy,” Killian replied carefully, not at all sure he was saying the right thing; he was so far out of his depth. “For now, though, I can just be your friend.”

A small smile crept onto Henry’s face, “Friends?”

“Friends?” Killian returned the question.

“Yeah!” Henry nodded enthusiastically.

The boy’s smile broadened into a huge grin, one which Killian couldn’t help but return. As they fell into a comfortable silence, the heated exchange in the doorway was the only sound which filled the room.

“You want to see your son?” Emma snapped. “Sober the hell up and get some help. I’m done playing these games with you.”

“Fine!” an exasperated Neal shot back.

“Fine!”

Killian watched as Neal turned and staggered off down the steps back towards the street, amazed and slightly disappointed to see him do so without falling flat on his face. Emma slammed the door on him, the loud bang making little Henry jump. She let out a heavy sigh, and took a moment to compose herself, before turning around to find her son. Her eyes landed on Killian and she narrowed them, confused and surprised by his presence, watching him inquisitively as she walked over.

“Hey there,” she greeted.

“Hi,” he returned.

An exchange of hellos.

Henry jumped up from the bench, bouncing enthusiastically on his feet as he grabbed Emma’s hand.

“Mommy, Mommy, this is Killian, the man next door. He’s my new friend. He’s very nice. He sat with me whilst you and Daddy were arguing again,” Henry told her excitedly.

Emma glanced to the door and there was a harder look on her face when she looked back at Killian, “You heard all that?”

“I heard all the stories your boy was telling me,” Killian responded, choosing not to acknowledge the argument that she didn’t seem too thrilled about him overhearing. Something told him she hadn’t realized just how thin the walls were in the building, and just how many of her behind-closed-doors domestics he had also heard in the past. “He’s got quite the imagination.”

“Did they end with everyone getting eaten?” she asked, a hint of amusement in her tone.

“They did, indeed,” Killian confirmed with a nod. “Quite the thrilling twist.”

“Predictable if you listen to too many,” Emma warned.

“That, I look forward too,” he returned.

She smiled slightly then spoke, with some of the sincerest words he had ever heard, “Thank you, Killian.”

“It was my honor,” he returned, matching her tone. “That’s one fine boy you’ve got there. He’s a real credit to you.”

Even if he has been dropping you in it.

Emma looked down at Henry beside her, ruffling his hair. When she looked back up at Killian, their eyes locked, his blue ones meeting her green, captivating him, drawing him in just as her voice did. Henry’s words echoed in his mind; I heard Mommy say she wanted the man next door in her bed. That’s you. It was him. Emma wanted him and man, did he want her. Not necessarily in his bed (though he certainly wouldn’t protest) but even in general; he wanted her there, with him, beside him, around. He wanted to be hers and, lost in each other’s gaze, he had the chance to take a step in that direction, to ask her out.

“Where’s Daddy?” Henry spoke up first, beating him to it.

Damn it. Bloody Neal.

Emma’s eyes left his, dropping down to her kid once more and Killian followed her gaze. Henry was looking towards the closed door of the apartment building, no Neal in sight.

“He said we were going bowling,” a disappointed Henry sighed.

“I know, kid,” Emma crouched down to his level, pushing the hair away from his eyes before taking his hands in hers. “But Daddy had to be somewhere. He’s really sorry. Maybe in a few weeks-”

“Let’s do it,” Killian spoke up, cutting her off.

Emma looked up at him, frowning, “I’m sorry?”

“Let’s do it,” Killian repeated. “Let’s go bowling.”

Henry gasped, his eyes immediately lighting up as he started excitedly bouncing around again. “Really?”

“If your mum doesn’t mind…” Killian hesitantly trailed off, realizing he probably should have spoken to Emma about it first.

He looked at her. The sharp look he received back from Emma told him he most definitely should have spoken to her first.

Bloody hell.

Had he put his foot in it the very first chance he had gotten? Had he screwed things up before they had even begun?

Emma stood up. She encouraged Henry to take a look at his book whilst she discussed some plans, and then pulled Killian away from the bench and towards the door. Her touch was light and her skin smooth against his arm. He was hit by a pang of disappointment when her touch left him, desperate for more. She folded her arms, guarding herself.

“Look, Killian, I appreciate-”

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, cutting her off before realizing he was developing a bad habit of doing so. “I should have spoken to you before saying anything to the lad. He just looked so disappointed.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, Killian, but all you did is delay the disappointment, probably even increased it. I can’t take him bowling,” Emma told him with an exasperated sigh. “I’m living pay check-to-pay check as it is and we’re only just scraping by. I can’t afford to take him bowling.”

“It’s on me,” Killian told her.

Emma gaped at him, “Why would you do such a thing?”

The question had multiple answers, as far as Killian was concerned. He could spend all day answering that one. After all, why wouldn’t he do such a thing? He decided to keep his response as concise as possible in an effort not to appear all gushy.

“Because your son is quite the charmer, in his own little way,” he told her. “And it’s about time I asked you out on a date and I can’t wait a week and I don’t expect you to find a babysitter on such short notice. So, Emma Swan, would you and your little prince care to join me on a bowling and pizza adventure?”

“You know my surname?” she didn’t miss a trick.

“I may have peeked at your mail,” he confessed.

“That’s crafty, Killian Jones,” she smirked at him.

He raised an eyebrow at her own crafty confession, “Is that a yes?”

“Hey, kid!” Emma avoided answering, calling over to Henry instead, whose little head shot out of his book like lightning. “Wanna go bowling?”

“Yes!” Henry exclaimed.

The four-year-old tossed his book aside on the bench and jumped to his feet, racing across to Emma and Killian before once again returning to his excited bouncing.

“Killian’s treating us to bowling,” Emma told the boy. “What do you need to say?”

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” Henry exclaimed.

Without warning, the boy charged at him, running straight into his legs, and wrapping his arms around them. The action knocked Killian off balance and he would have fallen were it not for Emma grabbing a hold of his hand and steadying him, saving him from that embarrassment. With his balance restored, Killian gratefully ran his thumb along hers as he let go.

“That’s quite alright, Henry,” Killian replied as he gently patted the boy on the shoulder.

“Come on then, kid, go fetch your book and we’ll set off,” Emma prompted.

Henry released Killian from his tight grasp and ran off back to the bench, doing as he was told. Killian’s eyes met Emma’s once more as she smiled at him, a gesture he automatically returned.

“You just made his day,” Emma told him.

“You just made my year,” Killian returned.

--

Tags: @teamhook@laianely@booksteaandtoomuchtv@exhaustedpirate@anmylica@hollyethecurious@kmomof4@winterbaby89@undercaffinatednightmare@resident-of-storybrooke@tiganasummertree@stahlop@lfh1226-linda@darkshadow7@fleurdepetite@captainswan-kellie@motherkatereloyshipper@soniccat@jrob64@whimsicallyenchantedrose@jonesfandomfanatic@myfearless-love

[theshippirate22]

as reparations for @ineffablyat221bboilingisles and my unintentional scare- some quality Willablues content for the people:

I’ve been thinking about the eventual Table Salt wedding quite a bit and while i do plan to write it out this is faster and more fun for the moment so here we are with some headcanons

-When Hunter and Lyn actually do get together, they say they’re gonna take it slow so they don’t fuck anything up. They’re engaged by the end of the month. (i mean, why waste time when you’re soulmates anyway)

-they get married the following April and their colors are yellow and lavender

-At one point Lyn gives Hunter a piece of paper and tells him to make a list of everyone he wants to invite. A few days later, she finds it wadded up underneath his desk and the only name on it is Eliza’s. Ignoring her stomachache, she figures out how to get out of him who his friends are and the numbers are… hurtfully low

-When Lyn’s brothers (she has three) find out about it, they get in a fight over who is going to say they’re Hunter’s brother

-Lyn invites every single queen from Hunter’s drag bar and every single one shows up

-He goes back and forth about it, but Hunter does end up inviting Matty and they have a relatively normal interaction

-Eliza is the Best Man and walks Hunter to the alter

-Caleb is an Honorary Best Man and when Hunter admits that he’s his best friend, Caleb just stared at him in disbelief for like twenty minutes and then finally just gives him the biggest hug and Hunter… doesn’t know what to do with that

-Hunter had a little bit of a freak out when he realized he was going to make Lyn a Stevens which to him is some sort of great curse because he’s never really felt like a Stevens so they decide to take her name instead. The priest introduces them as “Dr. and Mr. Lexie” and it makes Hunter endlessly giddy

-Lyn makes 98% of the decisions regarding the wedding because shes determined to make it perfect and Hunter is kind of in shock about the whole thing so he just nods along lovesick-ingly about the whole thing- he’s under the impression that the wedding will be perfect because it’s Lyn he’s marrying (he’s still endlessly helpful- it’s just weird for him to not have a million stubborn opinions)

-Hunter refuses to look at her dress before the ceremony because he’s convinced it’s bad luck but he accidentally sees it and starts freaking out only to find out later that the one he saw was some other wedding dress that Lyn’s insane grandma wanted her to wear and the real one was hidden safely in the back of Eliza’s husband’s closet where he’ll never find it. (Lyn laughs for an hour straight when she finds out because the one he saw is absolutely hideous and he didn’t even acknowledge it. he doesn’t admit that he just assumed it would look good on her.) She even tries it on for shits and giggles and both of them laugh until they cry because it really is so ugly (Hunter still thought she was so beautiful)

-Lyn’s best friend KJ is a photojournalist and takes an amazing picture of them together and it makes the news with the caption “A Willablues Wedding” and a bunch of the patients see it and go to the reception (including this really mean lady that they hate who gives them $400 and a hand mixer)

-The CEO of Willablues hears about it too and sends them a towel set that’s the Willablues colors. It’s the funniest thing to them and they argue over whether they should use them like they’re the nicest most expensive towels in the whole world or if they should only use them to clean up after sex

-they throw salt instead of rice (for reasons yet unknown to you but i promise it’s really cute)

-Lyn doesn’t drink at all and so she never picks out an alcohol package for the reception but Hunter has this great idea (based on a ficlet i have yet to write 🫣😔) to do shots of crème soda and ginger ale and at one point Hunter and Lyn go head to head against each other. (Hunter wins just because Lyn laughs and accidentally snorts ginger ale everywhere)

-Hunter is really careful to not get cake all over her when they cut it and she instantly shoves an entire slice into his face. He’s cleaning buttercream out of his beard for days

-Lyn loses her ring at the pharmacy one day and everyone starts searching and opening bottles to see where it went and she’s freaking out and they start calling patients to see if it fell into somebody’s bag and mid freak out, Hunter shows up with it and says she left it on the bathroom counter when she left for work

-Lydia (who you guys don’t know yet but was actually engaged to Hunter up until about three weeks before he got with Lyn) comes to the wedding (she’s actually Table Salt’s biggest fan- the breakup was totally mutual and all chill) and she makes a game of slipping a condom into Hunter’s pocket every time she walks past so by the time they get home he’s just unloading them on the dresser and Lyn is like. how much sex were you planning on having. and he’s just. so confused.

-they honeymoon in Mexico because Lyn insists the beaches there are more beautiful and Hunter would’ve been fine to honeymoon in a Walmart parking lot as long as she was with him

-Kelly, Missy, Erica, Caleb and even Taylor cry like babies at the wedding because who could’ve guessed that a delusional intern and big bad Hunter could be so irreparably in love with each other?

[mikuni14]

Hiii!

I want to ask them all haha, but I'll stay with 2, 3 and 15 (for the 2023 ql ask I mean)

Happy New Year darling!

Hiiiii! Thanks for your questions! haha I'd like to answer all the questions, but it would probably put me in a coma from pulling a brain muscle trying to remember what I even watched this year lmao

2. What show surprised you the most?

Be My Favorite because the unusual pairing actually worked, because I liked Krist 😮, because the series was simply very interesting

Laws of Attraction how the show is so well made and enjoyable, how Film is an EXCELLENT ACTOR

many series created couples this year that surprised me with how well-matched they are and won my heart unexpectedly (like To Sir, With Love and LoA, Love in Translation, Sing My Crush, and several other series from Korea)

The Sign surprised me with how great the show is and what a great couple BillyBabe is

Korea surprised me with amazing series in which they finally started kissing and even having bold scenes lol

Bake Me Please surprised me, I don't know if it was intentional, with how realistic the series is

not a series, but an actor: Mick surprised me as a seme character in My Universe

3. What show did you have high expectations for, but ended up disappointing you? oh boy, here we go: Step By Step, Between Us, Chains of Heart, Pit Babe (though if I focus on other couples, it's ok). I write mainly about series whose trailers and descriptions suggested something different than what I ultimately received. There are, of course, a lot of series that I had no expectations for, but which started out great and ended up disappointing me after I became interested in them.

15. What is your favorite scene from a QL this year? ohhhh "sweats nervously" there are so many of them???

To Sir, With Love (watched this year): Tian and Jiu's first meeting (I can watch it over and over), Yang realizing that his brother is gay, jealous Tian and Jiu running after him… oh they have so many wonderful things scenes together

The Eighth Sense: this series is made up of scenes that are carved in my heart, I really don't know which ones to choose

Sing My Crush: same

Our Dating Sim: same lol

Laws of Attraction: jfc SAME lmao 😆 from Charn's deranged smiles, to King Himbo I's Grand Entrance, to the shirt buttoning scene, flower scene.. omg..

Love in Translation: all their kisses, how is Yang with Phumjai, oh, and their making out session in the store? 10/10

Unintentional Love Story: Tae Joon "testing" Won Young, making him feel good in his car ;), tying a scarf around his neck, his scenes of being possessive, being shocked that Won Young doesn't want to go with him to the dinner..

Jun & Jun: Choi Jun pulling Lee Jun closer (daamn, I should add this to my recap as the hottest scene in 2023, silly me), the series has a lot of great scenes that I love rewatching

Our Dining Table: scene on the stairs 🥺

Chains of Heart: gift shop scene, love making scene

Be My Favorite: Piseang discovering his sexuality

PhayaTharn: I can't choose, I'm so sorry but they are perfect and have only great scenes that I keep rewatching all the time

I probably forgot half of what I liked lol

HAPPY NEW YEAR HONEY! ✨✨✨😘😘😘😘

[spring-lxcked]

GET TO KNOW THE MUN.

NAME.  nicole or aspen

PRONOUNS.  she / they (i sometimes have a slight preference for one over the other day-to-day, but overall either is fine)

PREFERENCE OF COMMUNICATION.  if you need me to respond quickly, IMs are probably the way to go. if you want to have a long-term convo/don't care about quickness, discord (nicolenostalgia) is best!

MOST ACTIVE MUSE.  currently it's obviously this rabbit bastard, but my other consistently most active muse has been kokichi (@takinghisbow). outside of him, i tend to go through periods of strong hyperfixation on specific muses. single muse blogs for me are pretty exclusively for muses i don't intend on taking long breaks from ever (outside of necessity)

EXPERIENCE / HOW MANY YEARS.  i've been rping since i was around 9 (and far too young to be freely online, but whatever). i've been on tumblr since i was ~14, but didn't start rping here until like. . . 3-4 years ago? prior to tumblr i rp'd on forums, via email with individual friends, and on furcadia (my longest experience and very defining for me ngl. i know it's, like, cringe or whatever, but <3).

BEST EXPERIENCE.  i mean, generally just the genuine friends i've made and continue to make on here. but also, to be slightly more specific, few things stand out in my memory as favorite rp moments more than the funny, crack-y, shit-posting times where me and some of my mutuals are just losing our minds. i love running jokes on my blogs, i love being @'d, i just love love love that non-serious sort of interaction sm.

RP PET PEEVE.  if you start public shit/write callouts about someone because they were slightly rude to you or you just don't like them? [cocks gun] (legally i'm joking, but i'm so glad i haven't seen this kinda shit in awhile. save it for dangerous people, please). other than that, i've had Experiences where my frequently-thirsted-after-by-fandom male muse just gets an Onslaught of ppl who will absolutely try to force ship with their OC. it hasn't happened here, but admittedly i'm like. sitting on the edge of my seat LMAO. (like, it's kinda funny but it's hella disrespectful).

PLOTS OR MEMES.  memes tend to be a better starting point for me unless you already have a specific idea in mind OR we're working off of one of our wishlist posts. i have this Thing where the moment someone asks me to plot every single idea i've ever had leaves my head fdkshfsd. the only exception to this is if it's not immediately obvious how our muses would meet. at which point, either plotting OR just specifying something in a meme you send would be great.

LONG OR SHORT REPLIES.  cursed to love long replies, forced to have executive dysfunction lmao. i mean, i love interactions of any length, but i do looooove getting really into my muse's mindset and exploring it. because of mental health, tho, longer thread usually = longer wait for my reply. not always, it depends on my muse. once we're getting 5+ paras, it might be a bit of a wait (even tho i still love it).

ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSES.  knee-jerk reaction was to say no abt william lmao. in all seriousness, i'd say. . . we have a similar sense of humor, regrettably. and more than that, i feel like my draw to writing muses in general who "wear a mask" and hide their real personalities has been a bit of an. . . unintentional exploration relating to my own masking. i've a only realized in recent years that i likely have ADHD (and maybe autism?), and the realization that the Me In Public is literally Not Me was. crazy. i think that, even though william is a complete bastard, there's something to writing a muse who is always performing. i mean, before i even understood what masking was i remember telling my mom that being around almost anyone irl felt like putting on a show to pretend to be "normal." so anyway me, kokichi, and william are holding hands (eurgh).

TAGGED BY. @gateway31 ( <3 <3 <3 ) TAGGING. whoever would like to do it!!