i like his knees

for @ladyliberty7476 who wanted some more usnavi and sonny,, aka the worlds best cousins who love each other very very much

i love this part enough that i wasn’t satisfied with the slow panning up of the ‘camera’ - i decided to copy and paste the images together to show the whole thing at once. thought i’d post it here in case others felt the same way (and also so i can find it again)

4
heartbeat pt. III

Title: Heartbeat Pt. III
Pairing: Josh Dun/Reader, Tyler Joseph/Reader
Rating: Very mature.
Warnings: Daddy kink, roughness, name-calling, drama, fluff. All kinds of chaos.
A/N: This stupid chapter is 8.3k words, and I’m so worn out because this has been driving me bonkers. I hope you’re ready for some drama, because this is where things start to get real. Let me know what you think, because this one was obviously very difficult to write.

Originally posted by giffingtop

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welp. i don’t really know how this happened, but it just kinda did. WC: 1510

klance, mild klangst, confessions, first kiss


Lance hums. “Really? You think?” 

The alien giggles, a small, tinkling laugh that makes Keith’s fists ball at his sides. He works his jaw, fixing his gaze on the beautiful red, blue, green, yellow, and black banners hanging from the ceiling.

The planet, Xylo, had been overrun with Galra, it’s inhabitants, the Xylans, being treated as slaves, working to harvest the precious gems in near the core of the planet. Many had died in the work, the heat, radiation, and brutal conditions too much, but those that lived fought side by side with Voltron, with a valor unmatched by any other planet they’ve ever encountered. 

It had been a sight Keith is unlikely to ever forget. He remembers this planet’s queen, Kani, charging an entire squadron of Galran sentries, ripping a blaster out of one of their hands and taking down each and every one before Voltron even had time to turn to offer her any sort of assistance.

Another tinkling giggle. Keith’s eye twitches, feels his nostrils flare. He needs to leave before he ruins a happy alliance before it even starts.

Keith grabs a drink off of the tray of a waiter, downing it one go, placing it back on the tray, and making his way for the door.

He pushes through the crowd. Everyone is gathered around the main floor, one traditionally used for ballroom dances, but all music had been destroyed by the galra. All the Xylans are still in their makeshift armor, and the Paladins still in their own colored suits. 

As he pushes through them, a couple pieces of their armor falls off, but no one seems to care. A hand places itself on his shoulder, he pauses, sees a large hand with Black Paladin armor, and shrugs it off as he resumes. There’s a sigh, but no footsteps follow him.

He trudges his way out the door and through the blue-brown dirt towards the Castle.

Fuck Lance. Fuck Lance and all his flirts. Fuck him and his crass carelessness. Fuck him and his stupid, beautiful face. Fuck him and his dazzling smile. Fuck him and his kind, caring heart. Fuck him and his ability to make anyone laugh. Fuck. Him.

He knows he has a crush on Lance. Knows he wants to cuddle him, kiss him, hold hands with him, boop his nose, peck his cheek, massage his legs. He knows this. 

But Lance doesn’t. Lance and his thick skull paired with Keith’s inability to do jack shit about his feelings means that that’s all he’ll know. He’ll never know how much Keith wants him. He’ll never know about how he dreams of Lance, hoping to wake up to his bubbly face and low, tired voice. He’ll never know that Keith is so far in over his head that he did a full on backflip. 

Finding himself somehow at the door of his room, he presses the control panel, clicking to slide it open.

God, he just wishes he could say something. At least if Lance said no, he’d be caring enough to not just flirt with every being in existence right in front of Keith. Well, that or he’d very purposefully do just that, but Keith doesn’t really think he would.

Keith flops onto his bed, armor still on. It’s uncomfortable, but he doesn’t care. He focuses on the armor digging into his back and thighs, trying to keep his mind off of Lance.

He takes a deep breath, feeling the twinges of anger leaving his body, only to be replaced by a deep-set ache. A loneliness yet to be filled. A hole so open in his heart, one that he knows one person could fill perfectly, and yet it won’t ever happen.

It sends a chill throughout his body as it weighs it down. As the knowledge that the one man he wants, the one man he knows he could truly love, has less than no interest in him.

He pushes his head further back into the pillow and lets out a huff. 

Knock knock

Keith raises his head slightly, but doesn’t say anything. If he’s quiet, they’ll go away.

“Keith?”

Lance. 

Nope.

“Go away, Lance,” says Keith, frustration tinging his voice.

He can almost hear the hesitation at the door.

“I’ll talk through the door if I have to,” says Lance. It’s meant to sound like a threat, but there’s an air of… helplessness in his voice. And it’s just that that makes Keith get up, walking over to the door and open it for Lance.

Keith doesn’t say anything to him, just turns and flops back down on the bed, leg hanging off the side.

Lance grabs it under his knee, lifting it up as he sits down before placing it back down, on top of his

Keith pretends like he can’t feel the sheer warmth coming from Lance’s thigh and pretends that merely being able to rest his leg over Lance’s isn’t make his face slowly become hotter and hotter. 

He doesn’t dare look at Lance, but he can feel a slight movement, probably him moving his arms or shaking his other leg or something.

There’s a long, awkward silence, neither of them willing to speak, but both waiting for the other to start. 

Eventually Keith gives in.

“What d -” starts Keith.

“I’m sorry,” says Lance.

Keith furrows his brows, but doesn’t say anything. Lance takes the hint.

“I didn’t… She was just…” Lance sighs. Keith feels his elbow through the armor on his calf. He raises his head slightly to see him, his head is in his hands, one elbow on his knee, other on Keith’s calf.

“I like you, okay? I thought that if I… If I flirted with people in front of you, you’d get jealous and you’d come running, and I dunno. I know that that’s dumb, everything I do is dumb, but I just wanted you to like me and more than just a friend and I just… I dunno,” Lance trails off at the end, fingers slitting open, letting one eye peek over at Keith. 

But Keith doesn’t hear the rest. He doesn’t hear anything after okay? Even if he wanted to, his pulse spiked, pounding in his ears. His breathing quickened, every inhale and exhale echoed five times over in his head. 

He bolts straight up, but his leg over Lance’s makes him lose his balance. Without hesitation, hands - Lance’s hands - land on his hip and shoulder, stopping him from falling back over. They burn him where they rest, for him to remember for the rest of his days.

Not even thinking, Keith surges forward, but he misses. He kisses the corner of Lance’s mouth, feeling it tug into a shy smile under him. Lance pulls away, but his hand on Keith’s shoulder slides up to the back of Keith’s neck.

Keith blinks at him, heart beating up into his throat as Lance’s shy smile disappears. As the hand on the back of his neck slowly pulls him in. As lips press a nervous, tentative kiss onto his own. Keith tries to kiss him back, add more - more flare to it, but only succeeds in colliding his nose with Lance’s.

He feels his face flush even more as Lance chuckles as they pull back. “It’s okay,” he whispers to Keith. “We can work on it.”

Keith ducks his head, a hand coming up over his eyes. Lance chuckles again, low and soothing, as he places a hand on Keith’s wrist, gently tugging it from his face. Keith lets him.

Bringing it up to his lips, Lance presses a soft, fluttery kiss to the inside of his wrist. Then in a circle around his palm. Then to the pads of each and every one of his fingers.

His eyes flick up to Keith, who wants to look away, whose every instinct is telling him to look away, but just can’t. Lance leans forward, tilting his head too much to be coming in for a kiss. No, instead, Lance places a peck to Keith’s cheek, nuzzling his nose into it before sitting back down.

They just stare at each other, happy with the silence in between them, happy to sit there and take in every single detail of the others’ face.

Keith had always known that Lance’s eyes were a blue, but he never noticed the slight green tint they had to them, or the fleck of brown in the top left of his right one. He’d never seen the smattering of barely-there freckles dotting his nose and cheekbones, or the one noticeable freckle hidden in the hairs of his right eyebrow. He’d never realized just how long his eyelashes were, nor how his deep brown hair framed his face so gently it seemed like it was almost too afraid to be around such beauty.

Keith’s heart flutters in his chest. He can’t believe this is real. He may not know exactly what they are yet, but that doesn’t matter. All that matters is that Lance likes him. Lance really, truly likes him. 

youtube

Today we are going to look at an amusing historical fact: The time that beloved poets Oscar Wilde and Walt Whitman met, got drunk, and slept together.

(Closed Captioning coming soon) 

Transcript Below:

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George Weasley x Reader Imagine: Just a Little Jealous

Imagine George saving Harry at a Quidditch game and all the girls drooling over him, so you show up and not so subtly, show them who he belongs to. But later, when you were the one who made a record amount of scores as a Chaser, all the boys are going crazy over you. That is, until George steps in and does the same thing you did, but much more extreme. ;)

Originally posted by obviouslyphelps

Originally posted by sorority-of-bitches

It was your 5th year at Hogwarts, and your 5th year of being a chaser. You were in the locker rooms, being given a speech by Oliver Wood, and you were about to play Slytherin. You hated the Slytherin Quidditch team. All they ever did was cheat, and Snape always let them get away with everything. (heh, get it? Snape, always? Sorry.) “Alright? Good. Let’s get out there, and win!” You knew the match would be tough, but it was taking forever. The score was currently 70 for Gryffindor, and 90 for Slytherin. You were trying to get the Slytherin chasers away from Angelina, but it wasn’t working. You were swearing under your breath and you didn’t even notice a bludger coming straight towards your head. That was, until, a certain ginger haired sweetheart flew in front of you, and hit it with his bat. “Thanks babe!” You said as you went to steal the Quaffle away from a Slytherin. You caught it, and threw it into the goal, the quaffle itself not being noticed the keeper, who was focused on you, but in a way that you didn’t care for. You could see that he was staring at your breasts, and smirking. “Ugh, gross” you thought before you yelled to him, “hey, what your problem pervert?!” He quickly looked towards Lee Jordan, who spoke into the microphone, “SCORE BY (Y/L/N), THAT MAKES 100 FOR GRYFFINDOR” the crowd screamed, except the Slytherins, who were furious. Luckily, George didn’t notice the keeper staring at you. You knew he couldn’t control his anger when he got jealous of other guys hitting on you, but when another guy did ANYTHING remotely inappropriate to you, he probably would’ve done something to get himself banned from the team, and right now, you needed to win. The crowd was going crazy, since Harry found the Snitch, and was about to catch it. He was just inches from catching it, when suddenly, there was a bludger headed straight towards him. Then, George swept behind Harry, in front of the bludger, and whacked it away from him. Only seconds later, Harry caught the snitch, and everyone, except the Slytherins, were cheering. Lee screamed into the microphone, “POTTER HAS CAUGHT THE SNITCH, GRYFFINDOR WINS THE MATCH!” You screamed along with the rest of the crowd, and you were so proud of your boyfriend, the crowd was was even cheering, instead of Potter, “WEASLEY! WEASLEY! WEASLEY!” You dreamily stared at him, and he winked at you, making you blush.

The next day, you were on your way to your next class, holding hands with George in the corridor, and you saw a few Hufflepuff girls walking past you. Normally, you wouldn’t care, but they were whispering and giggling when they said, “Hi George.” He said hey back, and they looked as if they might faint. “That was weird.” You said. “Don’t worry (y/n), I only have eyes for you.” “I know, I just don’t like other girls checking you out.” After that, things only got worse, but you figured out how to stop those hoes from flirting with George. When you saw them getting too close to him, which was annoying for both of you, (that loyal little cutie,) you simply walked up to him and said, “hi Georgie. You look really hot today.” And he would move closer to you, and put his hands on you hips, and say, “oh really?” And you would reply yes, and start kissing him passionately, then moving to his neck, leaving hickies everywhere. And then he would grab your bum, and start giving you hickies everywhere. And the whole time he did it to you, you stared the girl straight in the eyes, while she made a disgusted face, and walked away. The next week, you had another Quidditch game, against Slytherin again. The score was 200 for Gryffindor, and 60 for Slytherin. 160 of those points for Gryffindor had been achieved from you. You had scored this many goals before, but you were determined to beat the Hogwarts record for most goals. You even had hoped to be a Chaser professionally one day. You spotted the Quaffle and flew from behind to snatch it out of the Slytherin Chaser’s hands. You did this over and over again, and by the time Harry caught the snitch, the score was 370 to 120. Then 150 more points meant Gryffindor defintely won, and you had scored 300 points for your team, crushing the previous record of 240. You and the rest of the team, were so overjoyed that as soon as you came back to the ground, they gave you a big group hug, and the twins lifted you on their shoulders. Then everyone from Gryffindor came to the field from the stands, and were super excited as well. Beating the record meant not only did you get to be on the radar of professional Quidditch teams, and the Gryffindor team was officially the best, but it also gave Gryffindor house 75 points, and a shiny trophy in the trophy room, that would be remembered for generations to come. That night at dinner in the Great Hall, Professor Dumbledore called you up to accept your trophy, and rewarded Gryffindor house with 75 points. You had to hold back tears of joy as you walked back to your table. You sat in between the twins and George gave you a long passionate kiss on the lips, making you smile from ear to ear. Later that night, a huge party was thrown in the common room, where both you and George drank a little too much fire whiskey, making you both a little tipsy. However, this was a Saturday, so you had time to recover. On Monday, things started to get a little out of order again. At first it was OK, the guys from Gryffindor were giving you high fives and congratulating you on winning. But when it moved to other houses, and them touching you not so appropriately, since they weren’t your boyfriend, you started to get a little worried. Most of the girls had stopped hitting on George, but the guys had just gotten started. It was really starting to affect your relationship, you were arguing about it, and ignoring it, which made you ignore each other more. You really didn’t want this to happen, and you were trying to get all the boys to shove off. Luckily, you and George had stopped ignoring each other, but it was because of an argument. “You think I wanted this to happen? I hate this, I can’t stand us fighting, I’m starting to feel unsafe Georgie!” You yelled, with tears forming in your eyes. “Are you sure (y/n)? That you absolutely can’t shake them off? Seriously, you look like such a little slut!” The moment that word came out of his mouth, you both instantly regretted it. You let out a sob, and tears started streaming down your face. You were going to run to your bed and cry, but he started apologizing, and you knew he didn’t mean it. He held you in his arms, and you cried into his chest. “I-I can’t keep doing this, Georgie,” “I know, I’m sorry, you’ll be alright.” Just when you thought it would never stop, something happened, that you’ll never forget. Another Gryffindor was sitting in the common room next to you, flirting with you, of course, when he he took it too far. George was watching, as he always was, but he was getting a little jealous. “So, you’ve gotta be pretty talented to beat a record like that.” “Yea, I guess.” He suddenly put his on your knee, and leaned in for a kiss, but you put your hands on his shoulders, and shoved him away, then smacked him in the face. You made eye contact with George, seeing his eyes turn dark brown, and nodded with him, both of you knowing exactly what to do next. He moved to the couch where you were sitting, picked you up in his arms, and carried you to his room, most people watching. As soon as you stepped into his room, he locked the door with his wand. He then put you on his bed, went on top of you, and started attacking your neck with open-mouthed kisses, leaving hickies, making you gasp. He moved down closer to your breasts, and quickly unbuttoned your shirt, then unclasping your bra, throwing it across the room, as if he never wanted to see it again. He started kissing your breasts, then massaging them as well. He pinched your nipple, which made you loudly moan. He grinned when he heard it, so he did it to the other breast time, and you moaned even louder. He started kissing them again, but moved down to your skirt, and practically ripped it off you. He didn’t waste any time moving to your heat, then taking off your lacy blue underwear, and inserting his tongue into you. You immediately screamed with pleasure, and could feel his grin, as he sucked on your clit. You put your hands in his hair, trying not to scream with every move he made. He knew that the more you distracted yourself by playing with his hair, the less noise you would make. And that’s not what he wanted. He wanted you scream his name so everyone could know you were his, and ONLY his. He grabbed your hands and put them above him, still violently thrusting his tongue into you. You ignored this, and put them back in his hair, eyes still shut tight in ecstasy. He once again pushed your hands away from his hair, but you put them back in his hair. By this time, he had enough. He pulled away and said, “Jesus, (y/n), can you just stay still for one minute?” You managed you say, “Never.” “Fine.” He pulled away from you, grabbed his Gryffindor tie, and tied you up tightly. You liked his dominance, and were ready for more. He looked down at your folds and said, “so wet for me, huh?” And he began sucking on your clit again. You were breathing heavily, and moaning his name, which you could tell was turning him on. He could tell you were close to coming, so he rubbed your thighs, and laughed, which sent vibrations through your body, and as much as you tried to deny it, you couldn’t stop what he had done to you. You screamed, “GEORGE!!!!!!!!!” You came, screaming his name, releasing yourself, him taking in everything he could. He slowly pulled his tongue out of you, watching you panting from your orgasm. After a minute or so, you opened your eyes to see George, hovering above you, admiring your beauty, proud that he left you breathless and speechless, and you realized he had untied you. “So, I’ll ask you once again, could any other guys do that to you?” You weren’t finished though. You wanted more, you wanted him. It wasn’t just about him making all the boys know you were his, it was also about making the girls know he was yours. So you innocently said, “oh Georgie, that’s not fair.” He quickly responded, louder, “what’s not fair?!” You giggled, and said, “it’s not fair how you can make me feel so good, but I can’t do the same to you.” “Well I never said you couldn’t, (y/n).” “Good.” You flipped the two of you over so you were on top, and he was on the bottom. You slowly moved down from his bare chest, to his toned stomach, and finally to his pants. You breathed your hot breath onto his abdomen while you stroked his crotch with you hand, and you could hear his breathy gasp, and feel him getting hard. “You want this baby? ” he quickly nodded. “Are you sure? Just from me, no one else?” He nodded again, and you slowly started to unzip his pants, and take them off as slowly as you could. You could tell he was getting impatient, and you were glad. You slowly pulled off his pants, and by now he was squirming. He pulled himself up to try to strip himself, but you pushed him back down. “No, it’s my turn. I’m gonna make you feel amazing.” You moved back down to his pants, actually taking them off this time, along with his boxers. You told him, “baby, I want you to be as loud as you can. So all those other girls can hear who you belong to.” He whispered out, “and I want you to show me who I belong to.” You smirked as you grabbed his hard member in your hand and said, “don’t worry, I will.” You placed your tongue on the tip of his dick, and he immediately moaned. You laughed a little, and placed it in your mouth. He gasped, and you started to suck on it. He was already a moaning mess, and you were loving it. You were massaging his balls as you sucked harder and harder, until he pushed your head towards his cock, making you gag, you pushed his hands away, just as he did to you, but still obeyed what he wanted you to do. He kept moaning, and groaning, and you knew he was about to come, so you did the same thing he did to you to get you to come. You tightly grabbed his hips and moaned with his dick still in your mouth. That was it. He released himself in your mouth, and you swallowed his cum in gulps, not letting a drop of it go. You pulled away from him, and layed on your side next to him. He was still trying to catch his breath, and you smiled at him, proud of what you had done. “So, now do you know that you belong to me?” He had finally caught his breath, and said, “I don’t know, do you belong to me?” You smiled as moved your eyes to the ceiling as you said, “wellll, I can think of another way you can show me.” “Same here.” You were about to ask what, as if you didn’t already know, but his fingers were already stroking your vagina. You lightly moaned, and he smirked. He climbed on top of you, and you stared into his eyes, which were now a dark brown. He slowly slipped into you, and you softly moaned. “That’s it baby, louder” he said as he went slightly deeper. You wrapped your legs around his waist, telling him to go deeper. “Scream for me.” “Make me baby” “of course” he went faster as you scratched your nails on his back. He grabbed your breast with one hand, and held himself up with the other. Before you knew it, he was pounding into you, both of you moaning at every thrust. You flipped him over, and started bouncing on him, hitting your g-spot every time. He wanted to be the dominant one, so he flipped you over again, so now he was on top. He pounded into you, harder and faster than he ever had before. “George, I-I can’t f-feel my legs!” “Mhmm” Both of you were moaning, very loud, and as much as you tried to hide it, you were close. But George knew, he always did. He whispered into your ear, “come for me baby. Scream so the world can know you’re mine.” And with just one more thrust, you came, with following closely after. “GEOOOORGE!!!!!!!!” screamed so loud you were sure even the people in the Slytherin dorms could hear. He pulled himself off of you, both of you still panting, trying to catch your breath. “(Y/n)?” “Yes, Georgie?” “I’m so yours.” “Good. Because I’m yours.” He winked at you, making you blush. “So, should we go downstairs, and make sure everyone got the message?” “I would love to, but I’m not sure how.” “What do you mean? Did I hurt you?” “No, I still can’t feel my legs.” “Oh really? Let me have a look then.” He smirked, took the sheets off you, and stared at your naked body. Not in a creepy way, but in a cherishing way. “Well I don’t see anything wrong with them.” He ran his hand from your hip to your breast, then back down to your stomach, and he added a hand, and you knew what he was doing. “George! No! Stop!” He tickled you, and you laughed so hard you couldn’t breathe. He finally stopped, and you caught your breath. “Now how are those legs feeling?” You looked at him, and said, “they’re not feeling anything. I-I think, you’ll need to carry me.” “Well, I think you should get dressed first. We wouldn’t want anyone else to see what belongs to me.” “Of course not baby.” He grabbed all of your clothes from around his room, and watched as he slowly put everything back on your body for you. He started with your panties, blue, with lace, the ones that you knew he liked. As he put them on, he breathed his hot breath on your vagina, making you gasp, slightly turning you on. He let out a small laugh. “Don’t worry love, there’ll be time for that later tonight, it’s seems to me as that’s what you were planning on.” “You know you like it when I wear these.” “And how do you that Miss (y/l/n)?” “Because Mr. Weasley, I found them in your pocket the other day.” “Oh, right. Forgot about that.” He pulled your panties all the way on, then moved to your skirt, then your bra, and your button up shirt. While he was buttoning it up, he gave you small kisses on your breasts. Once he finished that, he moved back to your legs, slipped on your tights, and put on your shoes. Then, you watched him get dressed, looking for all his clothes around the room. When he finally got all his clothes on, he moved back to you, still lying on the bed, and said, “well, are you sure you can’t get up?” You playfully said, “I am absolutely certain.” “Alright then.” He wrapped his arms around you, and picked you up, bridal style. He then put you down, so you were standing up, and then you fell to the ground, him catching you before your bum hit it. “See, I wasn’t joking, I really can’t feel my legs Georgie.” He looked down and said, “oh, sorry (y/n).” You giggled and said, “don’t worry Georgie, I feel wonderful.” And with that, he carried you to the common room. There, some people cheered for you, while the girls gave you the evil eye, and gossiped about you. And the guys muttered words like, “lucky” and “I’m the one who deserves a piece of that ass.” But you didn’t care, they could talk about you two all they wanted, but they weren’t the ones in your relationship. You looked at George and said, “so, I know you already ate something, but did you wanna head to dinner?” “I’d love that” he carried you to the dining hall, and carried you back when you were finished. From then on, hardly anyone ever flirted with either of you again, and when they did, well, you know. ;)

anonymous asked:

um could you do jake dillinger's party except jeremy realizes he's being an idiot and he goes to find michael in the bathroom and then he makes him feel better and just soft boyf riends

y aal l l ar et o oo good  to o me

AO3 Link

Jeremy stormed out of Jake’s bathroom, slamming the door behind him and leaving Michael alone.

Why did I do that?

“Because you wanted to.” The Squip replied.

No I- I didn’t. Jeremy thought back, walking into the living room. I didn’t want to, Michael is my- My best friend.

We both know what Michael is to you, and we both know that you need to leave that part of yourself behind.” The Squip insisted. 

For a moment, Jeremy nodded to himself, before almost slapping himself for thinking it. No, I- Whatever.  I would never want to hurt him.

Well you just did.”

I didn’t want to though.

“Did you not?”

No. Jeremy insisted, glancing around the room, Jake smiled at him from across the room, motioning for him to come over. Jeremy did.

“Do you want any beer? You haven’t had any all night.”

No.” The Squip urged.

“I’d love some.” Jeremy smiled, accepting the red solo cup that Jake gave to him in response. He downed it as quickly as he could and refilled it, downing that too. Maybe alcohol would make his guilt go away.

It didn’t make the guilt go away, but the drunker he got, the less he could hear the Squip yapping in his ear, and by the time he was buzzed, the voice was gone.

“Oh my god.” Jeremy said aloud, swaying to the music. “It’s gone.” He grinned, “It’s gone. I have to tell Michael!”

Michael.

Jeremy all but bolted to the bathroom, knocking on the door. There was no reply. “Michael? Are you still in there? It’s…Its me.”

Jeremy heard a faint sob.

“Michael are you…Okay?”

“Fuck you, Jeremy.” Michael’s voice cracked.

Shit.

“Fuck…Michael…I’m sorry. I- He’s gone…For now.”

There was a pause and Jeremy heard the click of the lock. He opened the door. Michael was in the bathtub, knees curled to his chest, tearstains on the sleeves of his hoodie. 

“Shit, Michael, I-”

“Just… Close the door.” 

Jeremy did, locking it behind him. He climbed into the bathtub, sitting in the same position as Michael. 

“I’m…Fuck, I’m…So sorry.” Jeremy began.

“Don’t…Don’t worry about it.” Michael wiped his nose on his sleeve and dried his eyes. “I’m…At least you came back.”

“Of course I-”

“So the Squip is…gone?”

Jeremy nodded and then shook his head, “I’m…A little drunk. I think it shut him off for a bit.”

Michael nodded. “Okay well…Uh…I kinda wanna…Tell you something?”

Jeremy rubbed his eyes and nodded, “go ahead.”

“I…Like you.” Michael paused. “A lot.”

Jeremy sat in silence for a moment, figuring out what to say. “You….Like…Me?”

Michael sighed, burying his head in his hands. “I know it’’s…”

Fuck, no, Michael I-” Jeremy tentatively reached over to touch Michael’s knee. “I- like you too.”

Michael lifted his head up. “Wait- you…”

“Yeah.” Jeremy smiled as their eyes met. “I.”

Michael chuckled, “Well that’s good.” He fiddled with his sleeve.

Jeremy moved closer, turning so that his side was leaning against Michael’s legs.

“We gotta figure out a way to get rid of this thing.” Jeremy said, “But until then…Can I kiss you?”

Michael smiled, “Not if I kiss you first.”

“That-” Jeremy began, but Michael had already closed the space between them, pulling him into a long kiss.

Jeremy grinned, who would have thought that getting drunk would be the best think to ever happen to him?

miafuckingsucks  asked:

1, 14, 15 for the Drabble thing <3

1.The skirt is supposed to be this short.

JJ and Garcia had been the first to notice the new addition to your wardrobe when you entered the conference room that morning.

“Since when did you start wearing skirts to work?” JJ teased, taking the opportunity since it was just the three of you in the room at the moment.

“And ones that could be considered so scandalous?” Garcia joined in as she prepped the files for the rest of the team members.

“This skirt would only be considered scandalous back in ‘The Scarlet Letter’ times,” you laughed incredulously at your friend’s comments, “And besides, I thought it was cute and would mix up what I usually wear to work.”

“It is very cute,” Garcia confirmed, coming to where you stood and handing you a case file, “And very short.”

Throwing your head back and groaning, you chuckled softly, “The skirt it supposed to be this short!”

Tilting your head back down, you noticed that Spencer had come to enter the conference room, and when his eyes settled on the hot topic of your previous conversation, he swallowed harshly.

JJ and Garcia also noticed this and shared a knowing look between each other as Spencer took his usual seat right next to your usual seat.

“See something you like, Spencer?” Garcia whispered to the blushing man as she handed him a file while you took a seat next to him.

Rolling your eyes, you whispered a silent thank you to the universe when Hotch walked in and immediately began briefing the team.

At one point, Hotch turned his attention to Rossi and you felt Spencer’s hand come to rest on your knee.

“I do like your skirt,” his voice just loud enough for only you to hear.

“Thank you,” your own voice no louder.

“Do you think anyone would notice if we were a little late boarding the plane?” Spencer asked, trailing his hand ever so slightly up your thigh.

“Not at all.”

You prayed that no one noticed the smile you had to bite back or the hickey that would soon come to appear on your neck.


14. Take. It. Off.

“Please tell me that was the last box,” you huffed, taking a seat on the floor next to one of the many cardboard moving boxes placed sporadically around Spencer’s living room.

Nostalgia had struck Spencer after returning from a visit to Las Vegas to see his mother last week, prompting him to bring up the boxes of memories he kept stored in the basement of his apartment.

“There’s only one more,” Spencer assured, sliding a box labeled ‘photo albums’ out of the pathway you had created towards the door, “I’ll go get it and then we can start going through them.”

Humming in agreement, you scanned the boxes that were settled around you, wondering which one Spencer would want to open first when he returned.

Just to your right, the simple Sharpie label of ‘CHESS’ caught your attention the most. Imagining that it was most likely full of vintage chess boards that Spencer had collected over the years, you figured that was a good box to start with.

Standing up from your previous position and tearing back the tape that sealed it shut, you were pleasantly surprised to see a golden baseball hat residing at the top. Picking it up, a smile grew across your lips upon reading the black lettering of “Las Vegas Chess Champion 1989”. The thought of a little eight-year-old Spencer wearing the hat atop a mess of his untamed curls made you giggle before adorning the hat yourself.

As you began to carefully remove the chess boards that the hat had been on top of, you heard Spencer re-enter the apartment and close the door behind him.

“Babe, did you see a box mark—” Spencer stopped in the middle of his question upon seeing the familiar tone of yellow, “Where did you find that?”

“In this box with your chess boards,” your smile drooped, having expected him to be far more excited when seeing the relic.

“I thought I got rid of that,” Spencer swiftly set the box in his hands down and made a move towards you, “Please, take it off.”

“Why would you want to get rid of it?” you dodged his attempt to remove the hat from your head.

“Y/N, please,” Spencer ignored your question, the tone of his voice growing desperate, “Take. It. Off.

Before you had the chance to respond, Spencer was quick to close the space between you and wrap one arm around you while his free successfully snatched the hat from your head.

Squealing with laughter, you attempted to reach your arm just as high as Spencer’s to retrieve the hat back but settled back onto your feet when you realized your efforts were pointless.

“Alright, fine,” you feigned defeat, placing your forehead against his chest “But, Spence, why did you want to get rid of it in the first place?”

Lowering his extended arm to drop the hat on the sofa besides him, Spencer sighed, “The day after I won the chess tournament, I wore that hat to school, thinking that I was so cool,” his voice drifted off, “And well, we both know how uncool the rest of the high school already thought I was…”  

Your heart dropped at Spencer’s explanation for the embarrassment he had in regards to the baseball hat. Even if he had grown past the bullying he had experienced in school, it was obvious that some pain continued to linger.

Glancing down at the hat that was now by your leg, you smiled sadly before picking it up and placing it on Spencer’s head, right where it belonged.

“Well, if it’s any consolation, I bet you looked just as cool then as you do right now.”

And for the first time ever while wearing that hat, Spencer felt proud.


15. Well, you’re coming home with me whether you like it or not.

There were a million other places you would have rather been then an overcrowded bar right now. Most nights, you would be partaking in shots with Prentiss or singing a horrible rendition of some Journey song with Garcia and Morgan; but between the silent treatment that Spencer was giving you and the creepy stare you were receiving from a man at the bar, you had had enough of the night.

Pushing your way through the hoard of people on the dance floor, you made your way over to the spot of the bar where Morgan and JJ were stood, both of them ceasing their conversation at your arrival.

“Spencer still refusing to talk to you?” JJ asked sympathetically, being able to see the dejection that still resided on your face from the previous argument that the two of you had.

“Not a single word,” you shook your head, glancing back to see that Spencer was still sitting at the booth you had all chosen when you arrived, his eyes trained on the drink in front of him.

“So I’m just gonna head out,” you motioned towards the exit of the bar, receiving understanding nods from both of the agents.

“You go home and relax,” Morgan stepped forward to give you a hug, “I’m going to try and talk some sense into that boyfriend of yours.”

Lightly laughing for the first time in hours, you bid them both a good night before making your way back through the crowd of people and out of the bars overwhelming atmosphere.

Taking a deep breath of the fresh night air and reaching for your car keys in your purse, the sound of the door slamming caught your attention.

“Hey, there,” the voice was unrecognizable, but when you turned around, you were met with the man who had been staring at you since you entered the bar.

“Hi?” your response came out more as a question than a statement.

“I couldn’t help but notice that you left without the guy you came with,” his breath reeked with vodka as he came to stand closer to you, “And I thought maybe you’d be into leaving with me instead.”

Taking a step back, you scoffed at the complete stranger, “I’m not, at all.”

Sudden anger flashed across the man’s glazed eyes, “Well, you’re coming home with me whether you like it or not.

Even if you were a trained FBI agent, the man’s threat made your heart race and your palms go clammy.  

“Take one more step near her and I will not hesitate to shoot you,” Spencer’s voice rang clear and authoritative through the tense air, taking both you and the man by surprise.

“You don’t even have a gun,” the drunk man snarled, unmoved from his position near you.

Moving the jacket of his suit to reveal that he was in fact still carrying, Spencer spit venom in his words, “Back away from her, now.”

No longer willing to continue harassing you or run the chance of getting shot, the man was quick to practically run past you, in the complete opposite direction of Spencer.

A shaky sigh of relief had barely left your mouth before Spencer had pulled you into his arms, his own body shaking with fear at the idea of what could’ve happened if he had not come to apologize to you.

“Thank you,” you whispered against his chest, “I thought you were mad at me, I didn’t think you would come after me.”

Shaking his head, Spencer tipped his finger under your chin and made you look at him, “I will always come after you, I can’t lose you.”

Pressing a kiss against your forehead, Spencer pulled you into him once more, not yet willing to let you go.

i just don’t get why no one……. is worried…… about…… aaron…… like his husband cheated on him and the whole village knows and his mum is away so why aren’t paddy and cain or marlon or lisa or any dingle stepping in to be like aaron love do u need a hug

I Really Really Really Really Really Really Like You

[JayDick, AO3]


Dick blinked himself awake. Then he blinked again, just to watch the colors swirl.

“Hey buddy, how you feelin’?”

Someone was talking. Dick tilted his head, even though it was very heavy, to the right. Oh, there they were. Dick smiled at the man sitting on a chair by his bed. He was wearing a…

“Hat,” he supplied, feeling proud when the man laughed, dragging a hand down his face.

“Yeah, you probably feel pretty amazing right now, don’t you?”

Dick did feel pretty amazing.

“I feel,” he started, but then there was a door, and it was opening, and an actual angel appeared.

“Ah, you’re awake. About time, Dickhead, pretty sure Baby Bat was about to stage a revolution.”

Dick didn’t care about anything but this guy’s face, even when the man paused and just met his eyes for a long while. Not long enough.

“Why are you– why’s he staring at me like that?”

“Beats me, man,” Shush, hat. Angel was talking. “He’s on some serious drugs.”

Irritated, Dick flapped his hand (more like flopped it) at the man in the hat, shushing him. He wanted to touch that white spot in the hair. It looked soft.

“Are you soft?”

He had to know, it was vital.

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