#Writing Evolution

[prismaticpichu]

I’m feeling a little down; solution?? Here’s a self-indulgent collection of various wholesome fic lines from the past few years <33

I cast Floof upon ye! ✨

~~~

But Zack, holding the man who was supposed to be the strongest in the military, didn't care. Not at all. He simply took the other in, sheltering him, nestling deep into his neck.

"It's okay, bud…” Zack whispered. "You're safe now."

~

Face buried in the other's charcoal hair, heart pressed against the warmth of a hoodie, Sephiroth allowed himself to smile. He enveloped his best friend and held him close, letting his eyes fall shut as Zack tightened the embrace.

"I missed you..."

They said it in harmony.

~

“Merry Christmas, Seph..." Zack mumbled into his neck, his smile warm and bright as the firewood purring behind them. "Welcome to the Fair family.”

~

"G'night, Seph..." Zack was already drifting.

"Goodnight. And Zack?"

"Yeah?”

"I have a request."

"Go f'rit."

Sephiroth gazed overhead, his emerald eyes glimmering with warm resolve. "Never change."

I love you just the way you are

~

"Partners..." Sephiroth repeated to himself, tracing his finger over the word, feeling the light of Zack's broadening smile beam down on his shoulders.

"Partners," Zack agreed, his tone much more serious now. "You and me, bud. Forever.

~

Seph was broken right now... but he would heal. They both would. Maybe when the cracks were gauzed, they would leave the puppeteers and let the bodies of Nibelheim rest. He could bring Seph to Gongaga, home, where he would live under the care of parents and a brother who loved him dearly.

He would never leave his side again.

As the first winks of dawn smeared across the sky, Sephiroth’s breathing finally began to calm. The ice was thawing from his muscles, melting under the warmth of a furnace, the poison filtering inside of him and purifying into untainted blood.

Thump… Thump… Thump.

"Everything's okay, bud..." Zack repeated, and these were the words that sailed his friend to sleep. "Everything's okay..."

~

As far as Sephiroth was concerned, there was only one appropriate thing to say. It twisted his throat into sandpaper, struggling to mouth a trio of words that had never left his lips, had hardly ventured through his mind. Words he thought he might have known once, but had been taken away, their meaning warped and changed into something nearly nonexistent. Now, someone had championed them; Zack had earned it. His soul sang that it was true, and Sephiroth knew it, too.

"…Zack?"

"Yeah, bud?"

Cocooned in warmth and gratitude, Sephiroth closed his eyes, saying what should have been said without ever needing an occasion.

“I… I love you.”

~

"...Just, always remember that you're you. I think Angeal and Genesis forgot that. So..." Another melancholic smile budded on Zack's lips. "Even if it's just for me, just never forget, no matter what anyone ever says to you: you're still Seph. You'll always be. Winged or crazy-haired or crazy-eyed. I don't know if anyone ever told you that, so maybe I'll just have to be the first."

~

And Zack couldn't hold his any longer. “Seph….!” he squeaked, springing forward and practically gluing his arms around his best friend’s neck. “Seph!”

"Stop that!" Sephiroth tried to bark, but every thread of authority was cut along the way. He was completely powerless as Zack tightened his embrace, their laughter harmonizing into one, a velvet and bubbly song drowning out the rainfall.

"My buddy's laughing...!" Zack repeated, the words still so ethereal as they danced around him. “You’re really laughing!”

~

Sephiroth paused. "…No. I do not have a friend."

The emerald ponds rippled, and he looked over to Zack, still standing in the crowd, the woman nowhere to be seen, watching the boy's eyes widen into gaping blue sapphires . A small smirk budded on his lips.

"I have... a best friend."

He had a best friend. He had a best friend…

Murmurs erupted from the crowd, heads bobbing as people turned to face one another and even the scattered gasp laced between. It was clear that this was not the response they were expecting to receive.

"Who?" the reporter wanted to know, clearly just as stunned.

Sephiroth never unlocked his gaze with Zack’s. His smirk softened into a tender, calm, grateful smile.

“My lieutenant."

~

“...I love you so much…” Zack mumbled into his coat.

The velvety warmth from before sparked all again, a strong heartbeat turned into a swelling throb in the man's chest. There were no barriers in Sephiroth’s mind anymore, making him hesitant. Making him question. Just as they did before, the words left in all their heartfelt, effortless honesty as he held his treasured friend tighter, emerald eyes falling shut.

"I love you too, Zack.”

My hero.

~

For another long swathe of time, silence reigned over the duo. And Sephiroth was left to ponder his best friend’s kind words once again. He let them sink into him like soft layers of balm—let them sink deep into his body, let them knead the aches in his soul… and sank further into the embrace. There seemed to be only one appropriate thing to say. Only one thing was that right.

“Thank you…” Sephiroth whispered.

Zack’s lips budded with a small, teary smile, burrowing deep into the warrior’s neck. “My amazing friend…”

Flash!

Sephiroth tensed and bristled as the room came alight again. His heart jolted—leapt, flared—and Zack made sure it stayed in his chest as he held him tighter.

“It’s okay… I got you, bud. You’re okay.”

The warrior kept his eyes shut, cocooned in warmth and blessed blackness… And this time, his head was silent. Hojo’s voice didn’t echo in his ears; his silent screams of the past didn’t plague him. It all melted away as he melted further into his best friend’s arms.

Listening to the sound of the rain against the window, Sephiroth fell asleep.

~

The boy's face softened, relinquishing his hold on his arm…

To place a warm, ungloved hand on his chest instead.

"I know who you are..." Zack whispered now. "You've shown me. You're Sephiroth. You're kind, and loyal, and would never hurt a soul who didn't deserve it."

He nodded gently towards his hand, pressed firmly over his heart.

"This here, Seph... this is what matters. And you have a good one."

The words still eluded Sephiroth's tongue as Zack held his gaze steady in his own, unwilling to let him go. Gazing right into his eyes, into the inhuman feline slits that drifted in the jade waters like two black daggers... completely unafraid. Completely calm, completely honest. And without a single ghost of doubt.

"You'll always be you..." Zack continued. "And nothing on Gaia will ever change that. I tried telling that to Angeal, but… he didn't listen to me." Something wet twinkled in Zack's eyes, a misty glimmer of plea. Of hope.

"So don't ever forget that... okay?"

~

He opened his eyes again, slowly, the emerald waters tame and vulnerable. The feline pupils round and glistening. "You are... everything to me," he said quietly. "You made my life complete, when I thought it would be shattered forever. You filled it again--with meaning, with joy, with... purpose..." Sephiroth had to fight the smile from sneaking onto his lips, blinking it away. He kept his gaze steady as he continued to hold the blue eyes firmly in his own.

"I repeat myself: you are not Genesis's shadow. You are not Angeal's shadow. Genesis, Angeal... they never brought me coffee. They never shortened my name. They never snuck energy bars into my drawer so I would eat. They never left their doors unlocked for me. They never embraced me, even when they would see me again the next morning." Sephiroth blinked again, fighting again. Only somewhat successful.

"I loved them dearly, but they are not you, Zack. And I am very thankful that you are you.”

~

He felt Zack’s smile press into his shoulder.

“…Seph?”

“Hmm?”

“Thanks… by the way.”

Sephiroth hummed in response, another cozy spark and purr in his chest. “I’m honored to do this with you.”

"No," Zack continued to murmur. “I mean… for everything. For being here, for staying here, for always taking care of me…” He strained his eyes, inhaling deeply, letting his taut muscles relax again as he sank back into his embrace and clutched him tighter and found the words that finally rang right in his heart.

“…My hero.”

~

Zack was no longer resisting the tears—letting the weight of his burdens spill out into his shoulder, letting them flood, letting himself bleed out all the tainted blood that had been flowing inside of him over the past stretch of horrible, horrible months.

“I…” he sobbed, cracking. “I’m...”

“Shhh... it’s not your fault..”

“I… I…”

“…It’s not your fault...”

“I… I just…”

“I know…”

“…Why… why d… id this…?”

“I don’t know…”

“…I miss him…”

“Me too…”

“B… but you’re here…”

“…….I am.”

~

Swallowing, Sephiroth bit his lip, the guilty haze still clouding his mind. “Why did you fight for me?” he choked. “Why not fight against me? Why not try to kill me...?”

Zack’s eyes only softened at the question, taking a moment to compose a proper response. “Why...?” he eventually repeated. “Because you weren’t that creature, pal.”

“But you didn’t…” Sephiroth shook his head, then, realizing the weight of that question, amended with, “how...? How could you know it wasn’t me?”

Another beat drummed through the air as Zack processed the question, thinking long and hard of the response, keeping his forehead pressed against his friend’s and his arms wrapped wrap him until, gingerly, he lifted his bandaged arm, placed it against Seph’s chest, and just listened...

“I... I don’t really know...” Zack cracked another small, honest smile. “Gonna sound cheesy as Hell, but... I kinda just knew... kinda just sensed it, your pain... And then you turn around, at the top of that cord thing, look at me, and I just see all that Evil in your eyes... And I knew that wasn’t my bud...”

~

Eventually, Zack snuggled closer, resting his cheek against his chest, burying his face in the toasty material. “...I felt safer here, you know...” he murmured, his voice drenched in encroaching sleep. “And not just because of the blanket... in case you were wondering...”

A purr, a spark in the velvet fire, and Sephiroth just held him closer, pillowing his own cheek against his dear friend’s hair, strands of silver threading through the black quills.

“...I’m glad,” he murmured in return.

~

“Oh...” Sephiroth chuckled as their laughter began to die down, “I believe we almost forgot the most important affirmation.”

Zack’s smile gleamed brighter than moonshine. “...Yeah? What’s that?”

His own smile calm and content, Sephiroth scooted a few inches across the sofa, looping an arm around his treasured, kind friend as he added, with a swell of gratitude in his heart:

“That I am blessed enough to have the most wonderful friend by my side.”

~

"I'm... I'm never gonna leave you, pal..." Zack whispered, assured; a promise embedded in cement. "I'm... I'm never gonna stop cherishing our time together... Never. I'm never gonna forget how much you mean to me..."

And against the blackness, he felt the silken, feathery weight of Seph's hair falling over him, the comforting, understanding press of his dear friend's forehead against his.

"And I'll never let those memories spoil," Sephiroth murmured.

[dowderadorer]

writing evolution through my kiss scenes ?

erm yeah... 2020 vs 2024 kiss scenes

yes its bucky barnes x oc fanfiction. we all started somewhere.

[haveacupofjohanny]

From Whimsy to Darkness: How The Ordinary Bruja Evolved into a Haunting Exploration of Identity

✨ Stories evolve, just like we do. ✨ The Ordinary Bruja began as whimsical magic but became a haunting mix of psychological horror, coming-of-age, and self-doubt. Because sometimes, the scariest thing isn’t magic—it’s facing yourself. 🔮 Ready to step into Marisol’s world? #MagicalRealism

Stories have a way of taking on a life of their own. When I first wrote The Ordinary Bruja, it was a whimsical, magical realism short story—something light, something filled with wonder. It had a touch of enchantment, a girl discovering something extraordinary about herself, a narrative infused with the warmth of magic woven into the everyday. But as time passed, as I continued to grow as a…

[ancientroyalblood]

Finding My Writing Style: A Journey of Descriptive Exploration

Writing is an art that evolves with time and practice. When I started my writing journey a few years ago, I received valuable advice to stick to simple terms like “said,” “asked,” and “replied.” These basic elements provided a solid foundation for my storytelling. However, everything changed when a friend, who had been reading my books, suggested exploring a more descriptive style. This feedback…

[girllblogging777]

thinking about living with spencer reid

spencer, who’d never in his life been able to spend too much time with someone without feeling trapped or uncomfortable.

spencer, who, as much as he loved his job, needed silence and alone time at the end of the day, to “recharge his social battery” as he liked to call it.

spencer, whose entire life had shifted when he started dating you. because you saw him, and never made him feel different or weird. because you loved him.

spencer, who discovered what it felt like to share his space with someone. his books neatly placed next to yours on the shelf. his purple toothbrush next to your pink one above the bathroom sink. it all fit together perfectly.

spencer, who needed a bit of time to adjust. you respected when he needed to be alone, and you understood the moments when he didn’t feel like talking. after all, you knew him better than anyone.

spencer, who did everything to make you understand that despite his behaviour, he loved being the one to see you like this. with tangled hair in the morning and wearing his clothes while chilling around.

spencer, whose questionable diet you tried to fix. instead of his usual granola bars as dinner, you welcomed him with a warm meal every night. and he would eat anything you’d bake or cook, never without thanking you.

spencer, who would force you to stay in my bed “five more minutes” in the morning because now that he got to sleep with you every night, he was going to make the most of it. and his coworkers definitely noticed when he started showing up late at work.

spencer, who would cherish the moments he got to spend with you while he was off. he’d let you sleep in and attempt making pancakes, preparing your coffee just the way you like it.

spencer, who would also show his love for you in the smallest things. he’d stick post-its with cute “this made me think of you” quotes on the mirror before heading to work, and leave you messages on the fridge with the poetry magnets he’d bought when you moved in.

spencer, who did everything to be the best partner for you. doing the dishes, cleaning around and making the bed to relieve you because as comfortable as living with you was, he still felt like a burden sometimes.

spencer, who found himself looking forward to coming back to your shared apartment after a rough case. or anytime, really. because it was more that that. it was home.

[elbiotipo]

Some notes on worldbuilding with carnivorous cultures:

Animals feed more people than you think. You don't kill a cow for just one steak, this is a modern misconception since we're removed from the actual animals we eat our meat from; a single cow has several kilos of meat. In fact, slaughtering a single cow often means a feast time for possibly dozens of people. Every part of an animal can be used, and you can see this in cultures that live by ranching and transhumance.

Here, you should look at the Mongols and the people of the Eurasian Steppe, the people of the North American Plains, the people of the Pampas (fun fact; Buenos Aires was called the "carnivore city"), European and Asian cultures that practice transhumance, and those of the Arctic circle.

There are many ways to cook meat, but arguably, the most nutritious way to consume meat is in stew, as it allows you to consume all the fats of the animal and add other ingredients. In fact, mutton soup and stew historically was one of the basic meals for the for people in the Eurasian Steppe, who are one of the people with the highest meat consumption in the world.

Of course, meat spoils away easily. Fortunately, from jerky to cured meats, there are ways to prevent this. In pre-industrial and proto-industrial societies, salted meat was the main way of consumption and exporting meat. This makes salt even a more prized good.

Often, certain parts of animals like eyes, the liver, the testicles, the entrails, are considered not only cultural delicacies but as essential for vitamins and nutrients unavailable in environments such as the poles. The Inuit diet is a very strong example.

Pastures and agriculture have often competing dynamics. The lands that are ideal for mass pasture, that is, temperature wet grasslands, are also often ideal for agriculture. So pastoralism has often been in the margins of agrarian societies. This dynamic could be seen in the Americas. After the introduction of cattle and horses, the Pampas hosted semi-nomadic herdsmen, natives and criollo gauchos. The introduction of wire eventually reduced this open territory, converting it into intense agriculture, and traditional ranching was displaced to more "marginal" land less suitable for agriculture. Similar processes have happened all over the world.

This also brings an interesting question to explore. Agriculture is able to feed more people by density. What about species that DON'T do agriculture, because they're completely carnivorous? The use of what human civilization considers prime agricultural land will be different. They will be able to support much higher population densities than pastoralism.

Pastoral human populations have developed lactase persistance to be able to feed on dairy products even in adulthood. This mutation has happened all over the world, presumably with different origins. In any mammalian species that domesticates other mammals such a thing would be very common if not ubiqutous, as it massively expands the diet. Milk provides hydration, and cheese, yogurth and other such products allows long lasting food sources.

What about hunting? Early humans were apex predators and we are still ones today. However, humans can eat plants, which somewhat reduces the hunting pressure on fauna (though not the pressure of agrarian expansion which can be even worse). An exclusively carnivorous species (for example some kind of cat people) would have to develop very rigid and very complex cultural behavior of managing hunting, or else they would go extinct from hunger before even managing domestication. These cultural views towards hunting have also arosen in people all over the world, so you can get a sense of them by researching it.

It is possible for pastoral nomadic people, without any agriculture, to have cities? Of course. All nomadic peoples had amazing cultures and in Eurasia, they famously built empires. But they traded and entered conflicts with agrarian societies, too. They weren't isolated. Most of nomadic societies were defined by trade with settled ones.

The origin of human civilization and agriculture is still debated. It would be probably completely different for a non-human carnivorous society. One possible spark would be ritual meeting points (such as the historical Gobleki Tepe) or trade markets growing into permanent cities. But in general, pastoralism, hunting and ranching favors low-density populations that would be quite different.

Fishing, on the other hand, is a reliable source of protein and promotes settled cities. One can imagine acquaculture would be developed very early by a civilization hungry for protein.

Other possibilities of course are the raising of insects and mushrooms, both very uncommonly explored in fiction besides passing mentions.

Of course, most carnivorous species have some limited consumption of plant matter and many herbivores are oportunistic predators. The main thing to ask here is what the daily meal is here. For most human agrarian cultures, it's actually grain (this is where the word meal comes from). What about species that cannot live with a grain-based diet? You will find that many things people take for granted in agrarian society would be completely different.

As I always say: the most important question you can ask is "where does the food comes from?"

I hope you found these comments interesting and useful! I would love to do a better post once I'm able to replace my PC (yes, I wrote this all in a phone and I almost went insane). If you like what I write and would love to see more worldbuilding tips, consider tipping my ko-fi and checking my other posts. More elaborate posts on this and other subjects are coming.

[eternlmoonshine]

the alchemy of us ❥ spencer reid

summary: spencer has always been careful with the things he loves. and when he touches you, it’s with the kind of reverence that makes you feel like something divine pairing: spencer reid x reader warnings: a lot of intimacy, and very obvious allusions to sex but not explicit wc: 1k a/n: the inspiration for this was my pinterest feed being very cruel and showing me this quote and a picture of mgg from horse girl masterlist.

Spencer touches you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

Like you’re something he prayed for, something he never really thought he could have.

You feel it in the way his hands hesitate before they land on your skin, in the way his fingers tremble slightly when they trail down the length of your arm. He worships in a quiet way, all soft exhales and lingering glances, memorizing the shape of you like you might slip through his fingers if he isn’t careful.

You are the impossible thing he gets to hold.

And underneath his hands, you become poetry.

It starts slowly, the way all sacred things do.

Spencer has always been careful with you. He doesn’t rush, doesn’t push, doesn’t take more than you’re willing to give. He learns you the way he learns everything else- with patience, with curiosity, with something dangerously close to devotion.

At first, it’s just touches.

A hand on your lower back when he guides you through a crowded room. Fingers brushing against yours when he hands you something. The warm press of his palm against your knee when you sit beside him.

But then, one night, something shifts.

His apartment is quiet, dimly lit by the soft glow of a lamp. You’re sitting close- closer than usual, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from his body. The air between you is thick with something unsaid, something that’s been building for weeks, maybe months.

And then, with the careful deliberation of a man who has thought about this too much, Spencer reaches out.

His fingers trace a slow, reverent line down your cheek.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, almost like he didn’t mean to say it out loud.

Your breath catches. Not because of the words, but because of the way he says them- like the thought of your beauty physically aches inside him. Like it’s something too big for him to hold.

You don’t know who moves first. Maybe it’s him, maybe it’s you, maybe it doesn’t matter.

All that matters is the way his lips finally, finally meet yours.

It’s slow at first. Spencer kisses like he does everything else- with care, with precision, with an underlying intensity that threatens to consume. His hands settle on your waist, fingers tightening just slightly, like he’s trying to ground himself in the reality of you.

And then you tilt your head, deepen the kiss, and something in him unravels.

A soft sound escapes his throat- something caught between a sigh and a groan. His hands slide up your back, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between you. He kisses you like he’s starved for it, like this is something he’s imagined too many times and he needs to make sure it’s real.

Your fingers find his hair, tugging just slightly, and he makes a noise that sends heat straight to your core.

“God,” he breathes against your lips, “you-”

He doesn’t finish the sentence. Maybe he doesn’t know how. Maybe there aren’t words for what he wants to say.

Instead, he pulls back just enough to look at you. His pupils are blown, his lips are swollen, and his breath comes in uneven pants. He looks utterly wrecked, and all you’ve done is kiss him.

But when he looks at you, it’s with a kind of reverence that makes your stomach flip.

Like you’re something divine.

Like you’re everything he’s ever wanted.

When he touches you, he does it slowly.

Like he’s memorizing you. Like he’s trying to etch the feeling of your skin into his bones.

His fingers trail over your collarbone, ghosting down the curve of your shoulder, tracing the length of your arm with deliberate precision. Every touch feels intentional, every caress a silent worship.

He presses his lips to your jaw, to the spot just beneath your ear, to the hollow of your throat. You shiver beneath him, and he makes a sound of quiet satisfaction, like he’s cataloging every little reaction for future reference.

“Spencer,” you whisper, and he hums in response, dragging his lips across your skin.

His hands move lower, tracing the curve of your waist, settling at your hips. He pauses there, fingers flexing slightly, like he’s bracing himself.

You can feel the tension in his body- the quiet restraint, the careful control.

It’s almost too much.

“Don’t hold back,” you murmur, running your hands up his arms. “I want you.”

His breath catches. And then, like something in him finally snaps, he moves.

His mouth is on yours again, hotter, hungrier. His hands slide under your shirt, skimming over bare skin, and the warmth of his touch sends a shiver down your spine.

You gasp against his lips, arching into him, and he groans- actually groans- like the sound of your pleasure is something holy.

Like this is the alchemy that he does.

Turning reverence into heat. Turning worship into need.

Turning you into something untouchable, something sacred, something that only he gets to have.

And god, you want to let him have you.

When he finally moves inside you, it’s with the same slow, deliberate care.

He takes his time, watching you, gauging your every reaction. His hands grip your hips, steady but reverent, like he’s afraid of holding too tightly, like he’s still afraid of breaking you.

But you don’t want careful. Not now.

“Spencer,” you breathe, wrapping your legs around him, pulling him closer. “Please.”

He exhales sharply, something raw flashing across his face. “Are you sure?”

You reach up, brush your fingers over his cheek, and smile. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

And that’s all it takes.

The hesitation crumbles, the restraint finally shatters. He moves with purpose now, his rhythm deep and slow and devastating.

He touches you like you’re made of something precious.

He kisses you like you’re the only thing keeping him tethered to the earth.

And when you fall apart beneath him, he watches, eyes dark and reverent, like this is what he was made for.

Like you are the thing he asked God for.

And now that he has you, he will never stop worshipping.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

The Importance of Fear & Anxiety

Marks (1987) and Bracha (2004) outline 6 ways in which fear and anxiety can afford protection.

Freezing: This response aids the vigilant assessment of the situation, helps conceal one from the predator, and sometimes inhibits an aggressive attack if you are not sure whether you have been spotted or cannot readily determine the location of the predator. Freezing may be better than lashing out or fleeing.

Fleeing: This response distances you from specific threats. When you encounter a snake, for example, running away may be the easiest and safest way to avoid receiving a poisonous bite.

Fighting: Attacking, bashing, or hitting a threatening predator may neutralize the threat by destroying it or causing it to flee. This mode of protection entails an assessment of whether the predator can be successfully vanquished or repelled. A spider can be squashed more easily than can a hungry bear.

Submission or appeasement: This response typically works mainly when the threat is a member of one’s own species. Among chimpanzees, performing submissive greetings to the alpha male usually prevents a physical attack. The same might be true for humans.

Fright: This is a response in which the person “plays dead” by becoming immobile. The adaptive advantage of becoming immobile occurs in circumstances in which fleeing or fighting will not work—for example, if the predator is too fast or too strong. Predators are sensitive to motion by potential prey and sometimes lose interest in a prey animal that remains motionless for a while (Moskowitz, 2004). If the prey is “playing dead,” the predator may loosen its grip, possibly opening up an opportunity for escape.

Faint: Fainting is losing consciousness to signal to an attacker that one is not a threat. The hypothesized function of fainting in response to the sight of blood or a sharp weapon is that it helps warfare noncombatants, such as children, to “non-verbally communicate to. . . adversaries that one was not an immediate threat and could be safely ignored” (Bracha, 2004, p. 683). Thus, fainting might have increased the noncombatant’s chances of surviving violent conflicts that were likely to be common over human evolutionary history. If this hypothesis is correct, it follows that women and children would be more likely than men to faint at the sight of blood, and the evidence strongly supports this prediction (Bracha, 2004).

Fear - “the usually unpleasant feeling that arises as a normal response to realistic danger” (Marks, 1987, p. 5).

Fears are distinguished from phobias, which are fears wildly out of proportion to the realistic danger, are typically beyond voluntary control, and lead to the avoidance of the feared situation.

Source ⚜ More: References ⚜ Functional Defenses ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[sakasakiii]

some rumil doodles in response to @whimsicallywiddershins who asked: Oh my god I love your art!!! I'm curious about Rumil. I've never really heard of him and I'm curious about what happened to his eyes....

thank you for the ask!!!! im real happy to hear you like my art, and even happier you took the time to ask about rumil! <333 it took me until your ask to realise that, despite him frequently appearing in group concept sketches n doodles, i've never really elaborated on him haha 😅 i tried to illustrate and summarise some of the key points in the art, but more detailed yap incoming under the cut!

so! to start off, my version of rumil is pretty much at his core the same as canon rumil wherein he's a noldorin sage/scholar responsible for inventing the Sarati and later going on to write the Annals of Valinor. his whole being captured and enslaved in angband for a while comes from the other version of him the Book of Lost Tales, where he was a slave of Melko who learned the speech of monsters and goblins --essentially i thought it'd be fun to combine the two to give him a more complicated backstory ^^

in response to your query about his eyes, i hc that during his time in angband he was one of those who were experimented on by Sauron - acting on Morgoth's orders - during the initial testings for the evolution of elves -> orcs. (maybe sauron thought that blinding the first elf-orcs would make them more unlikely to disobey orders/easier to control? hmm) his band of captives were able to break him out in time and they fled back to safety before he was too far-gone, thus allowing him to reunite with finwe, miriel and co, and then eventually follow Orome to valinor :D

him being miriel's dad was also something i felt would be fun to explore, especially because i thought his ties to Sarati and Feanor would be an interesting dynamic! it's very very much noncanon, and incredibly self-indulgent on my part (im so sorry... 😭), but i like to go on tangents abt their relationship! i think rumil wouldve made attempts to dote on feanor and encourage his linguistic pursuits, but would have been held back a lot on truly being around him by both his health and his lingering guilt about miriel. he is incredibly proud when feanor refines his abandoned Sarati concepts and turns Tengwar into a near-universal system of writing however :D

other thoughts on rumil... hmm... i think he's kind of pitiful tbh. something about him being an absent (albeit not of his own volition) father to miriel, and then in turn him feeling unfit to offer feanor as much emotional support as would be ideal, is a theme i would like to keep exploring (^3^) adding on to the fact that he outlives his wife, daughter, son-in-law, grandson, and like 6/7 of his great-grandsons while miraculously not Fading himself gives him an essence with parallels to maglor that i do appreciate...

major apologies for going off on such a rambly tangent, but i do suppose an explanation on my rumil has been overdue for a few years!! i hope i havent misled anyone since i first drew him in that family tree, but thank you so much again for taking the time to ask about him! im always grateful for the interest in my absurd headcanons, and i hope you have a wonderful weekend ahead!!! ❤️

[call-me-mother-darling]

Breeder

Emily Prentiss x Reader

Authors note: I hope you guys enjoy. Thank you to Grey's anatomy for the idea. I couldn't not do it, Emily with gray hair is too die for. This is one of two fics this week. I will have one coming out on my normal schedule. Y'all deserve a gift though and this is that. I’m not gonna lie this is not my best writing. Later on I might re-edit and update this. If I do I’ll repost it and let y’all know. Much love 💋

Plot: You've just started at the BAU only to find out your boss is the woman you've been admiring at the jazz club. 18+

Warnings: breeding kink, strap on, dirty talk, consensually getting fucked into oblivion, anxiety, first day jitters, feminine reader, mention of teens getting tortured (Voit case in CM:Evolution), mention of whip marks, mentally drained, letting yourself submit to your boss ;) she’ll take care of you, (If I missed any lmk)

Word count: 3170

An alarm blares in my ear pulling a groan from my lips. God already? Today is my first day in this new unit. The Behavior Analysis Unit, a group of highly intelligent individuals that can tell how you're feeling with one glance. While you would think that is an amazing thing, I do not. Being a private and anxious person, the thought of the team knowing what I truly feel is terrifying, I can’t protect myself that way. It’s like giving up control. I stare at the ceiling while all these situations cycle through my brain. 

Deep breaths, you got this. They wouldn’t have picked you if they didn’t want you. You’re there for a reason.

I try to remind myself. I think back to my mothers words. ‘If you are feeling anxious, take a step back, take a deep breath and move on. The worst thing you can do is dwell on the fact that you can’t control it.’ As much as I hated her for that, she is right. I can’t control how my day goes but I can control how I react to them. 

I will myself to sit up and stand in front of my bathroom mirror. My hair is everywhere and I can practically smell my breath. I grab my tooth brush and handle my morning breath before pulling my hair into a tight slick back ponytail. 

My phone started to buzz and I run to my night stand to pick it up. A cheery voice on the other side played in my ear.

“Good morning sweet pea! My name is Penelope but you can call me Pen. Before you ask how I got your number, I would like you to know I am the Technical Analyst for the BAU. Your information was pretty easy to find.” I take a deep breath letting my worry go.

“I wanted to call you because newbies can get nervous coming in to work with such an amazing team. I wanted to reassure you that everyone here is beyond excited for your arrival. Your work is extraordinary.” She pauses.

“Thank you Penelope. I honestly really needed that.” I say and I can practically feel her beaming through the phone. 

“No problem sweet cheeks. See you in a little.”

“See you in a little, bye Pen.” I say.

“Bye hun.” She giggles and ends the call.

I really hope she was right. I even picked out an outfit last night so I wouldn't panic this morning. I put on my black slacks and a red sweater that has a neckline so low it’s not always work appropriate. If I just keep pulling it down in the back it should be fine. 

Should be. 

When I make it to the office I’m shaking. The anxiety has fully taken over my body. What if I don’t perform as well as they think? What if I just start word vomiting? Oh god anything but that. That’s so embarrassing. These people barely know me and the thought of me accidentally telling them some embarrassing story almost made me walk out of the building.

But before I could fully think of running away a squeal echoes through the lobby. A woman dressed in bright colors and a huge smile on her face runs towards me. Given her bright energy I can only assume this is the woman I talked to on the phone this morning. 

“You’re here! Can I hug you?” I let out an awkward giggle and nod. Who am I to deny a hug, especially from this ray of sunshine. 

“Yay! I’m so happy you're here! I’ve been looking at all your reports and I am just amazed at how your brain works.” Penelope squeals, wrapping her arms tightly around me.

“You’re too sweet Penelope but thank you. I am quite nervous.” I say shakily, wrapping my arms lightly around her. But she abruptly pulls back and holds my shoulders in her hands.

“You are going to be great. You may have to do it scared but you can and will do it. You can do things even if you're scared.” She says sternly but with a sweet smile.

I nod along and visibly relax at her words. I can already tell she is going to be my best friend. Someone I go to when I’m on the verge of going insane. I can already tell she helps keep the team grounded with just her energy. Given they see so much blood and dead bodies everyday I can only imagine how refreshing it is to have someone so aggressively positive. 

“Come on, let's get you upstairs.” She says, pulling me from my thoughts.

“Yes.” I say and begin to follow her to the elevators.

“Pen, I have a question.” I say and Pen looks my way once the elevator doors close.

“What is it sweet cheeks?” She asks.

“Is there anything I should know about the team? Like touchy subjects or how strict they are. Especially the unit chief. People have said she's scary.” I ask hesitantly and she lets out a small laugh.

“Oh honey you will get along perfectly fine with the unit chief. I can already tell she’ll take a liking to you.” She says, eyeing me up and down. I want to question what she means by that, and the look she's giving me along with it, but I choose to keep that question to myself.

“As for everyone else, they are very welcoming. Tara and Luke will act like your brother and sister once you get to know them, they are known for ‘adopting the newbies’. Rossi is like your old Italian grandpa. I think that explains him enough.” She giggles

“ JJ is the motherly figure of the group but she can be closed off so don’t pry with her. She will open up when she feels it’s time. Saying that though, she is the sweetest person you will ever meet. Now Emily, the unit chief. She’s your boss so treat her as such. She is the best of the best. She will know you inside and out within the first month. There’s no fighting it, I just want you to be prepared. I know that is a lot of information but these people will have you back no matter what. They are also super excited to meet you.” Penelope finishes. I take a deep breath just in time for the doors to open and Penolope to pull me to the bullpen. 

Okay this is it.

I follow her closely trying to keep my strides consistent. As soon as I walk in I am bombarded with greetings and three people surrounding me. They all introduce themselves politely.

JJ, Tara, and Luke. 

“Guys we have new information on Voit. Welcome to the team.” A low sultry voice rings through the office causing all of us to look in her direction. 

Oh shit. 

My eyes go wide. There's no way she’s my new boss. Out of everyone in the world, it’s her.

I have admired a woman at the jazz club every sunday for the last month or so. I thought it was something innocent. I would only admire from afar. I promised myself I wouldn't go up to her or try to find more information. I just needed something to look forward to, to get through my week. But no, here she is in all her glory. Looking even more beautiful. In this lighting I can see her whole face, the way the silver in her hair sparkles and how perfect her teeth are when she smiles. She has such a perfect smile.

No. That's weird, stop.

I come back to reality to see her staring back at me. 

This is going to be a long case.

The team and I make our way to the conference room. I had already been sent all the information on Voit the day prior. The man is way too good. I believe they are towards the end of the case. I know they are looking for the orphanage of these kids. What’s happening to them is unimaginable.

Upon entering the conference room all chairs were taken. 

Literally my worst nightmare.

“Hey, you can have my seat.” Luke offers me. I nod politely and let him push my chair in. The Ipad, with all the information I may need, right in front of me. 

God this is going to be rough. Scrolling through to pictures on Ipad it shows teens thrown on the concrete floor with whip marks on their back. Some look healed, others are still bleeding. My heart aches for these children. No child deserves to go through this. 

“I know these are horrendous but we need to keep a level head. These kids need us so let's figure this out.” Emily says reassuring the team, being the strength for the team.

We spent the next week working on this case, we were all so exhausted. Tara, Luke, and I go out for breakfast the day after we found the building, saving most of the children. Luke’s eye bags were dark and you could tell he could barely keep his eyes open. Tara being in the same state along with her slouching. I don’t want to know how I even look. The waiter has come and gone, putting water in front of us and quickly taking our order. While we wait Tara and Luke fill the silence.

“So now that we have time to actually get to know you, tell me about your crush on Em.” Tara says, eyeing my reaction. I couldn't help but be shocked.

“What? What do you mean?” I ask. There's no way I can tell them about my adoration for her. 

“Oh come on, we see the way you look at her. Like she can solve all your problems, like she's the only one in this world.” Tara says with certainty. Luke nods in agreement.

“There's no way you don’t know you're doing it. Even Emily can tell.” I look at Luke mortified.

“She’s noticed?” I ask in a panic causing them both to chuckle tiredly.

“Well you’re not necessarily sly about it.” Tara says. 

“Oh god, my first case and I'm already exposing my mommy issues.” The two laugh at that.

The waiter brings over our food when the bell rings above the door signally someone has entered. I don’t pay any mind to it until a strong hand rests on my shoulder, making me jump out of my seat a little.

“Sorry hun I didn’t mean to scare you so much. I hope you don’t mind me joining you guys, I'm starving.” She smirks at me while placing herself on my side of the booth.

The waiter comes over and quickly takes Emily’s order. Her hand rests on my thigh causing my cheeks to heat up. 

“So what were you guys talking about that got her so flustered?” Emily asks.

Tara smirks at me and my eyes go wide begging her to keep quiet.

“We were just talking about her little crush on someone with a higher ranking.” Even through her tiredness Tara still teases me. Emily smirks and looks my way.

“Oh yeah? Who might that be, cutie?” Emily says as her food is placed in front of her.

“That’s none of your concern.” I sass, there is no way I am telling her that. 

Being too focused on finishing my meal I miss the glance between Tara, Emily, and Luke. We all attempt to finish our meals and get a to go box for whatever we didn’t finish. The ride back was suffocating with tension you can cut through with a knife. With Emily glancing at me everytime we hit a red light, knuckles turning white as she grips the steering wheel. Luke and Tara had taken the car we came here in and Emily insisted I go with her. She said it’s a newbie's right, whatever that means. When we make it back to the office she looks at me with this longing.

“I know none of us finished our reports last night so when you finish them I want to see you in my office. Something came to my attention during this case that I want to go over with you..” I simply nod in agreement and got out of the car. Questions racing through my brain.

What if I fucked up the case some how? What if I did something wrong and I am getting fired? I hate when boss’s do this. Last time I got called into the boss’s office I got sent here. Theres no way I fucked up that bad.

I wander to my desk and type away on the computer, the one thing I’m not a huge fan of is these reports. They drag on and to remember every detail is difficult, especially when you're so exhausted. By the time I am done with these reports my fingertips feel like they are ready to fall off and my eye lids barely stay open. This part of the case is tough. These kids were tortured for their whole life. Not to mention our team almost got blown up. I understand why she did what she did, I would’ve done the same thing to a place that hurt me so deeply.

I hit print on my report and make my way to the printer which happens to be in Penelope's office. They told me since I am new I need to wait for them to install a printer at my desk, they said it was on backorder. 

“Hey hot stuff, you okay?” A calm sweet voice asks.

“Yeah I’m okay, thank you Pen.” I say with a tired smile.

“I’m guessing these are yours.” She says handing me the reports. 

I nod and take the papers from her hands. 

“I’m serious Pen. Thank you for being my sunshine this week. I really needed it.” I say rubbing her shoulder. If it wasn’t for her I would’ve had a breakdown.

“It’s no problem hun, this case has been difficult for everyone. You did well considering this is your first week.” Penelope comforts me. A tired chuckle escapes my lips.

“Yeah, well it sure ran me into the ground.” I say walking out of her office and make my way to Emily’s.

I knock on her door and wait for a response.

“Come in.” A tired voice answers and when I step in she looks so tired. She looks up at me and I swear her eyes light up.

“Hi, please sit.” She motions to the seat across from her desk. I sit in the chair handing her the report.

“Did I do something wrong?” I ask nervously.

“No, darling. You’ve just seemed a little nervous and I thought I could help with that.” her voice sultry.

She slowly pushes her chair back and walks around to the back of my chair, like a lioness hunting her prey. Her hands grip my shoulder, pressing her thumbs into my muscle massaging out the knots. A small hum escapes my lips. I can sense her bend down, breath close to my ear.

“Mmmm I love the noises you make.” She whispers.

“Come on baby, why don’t you go bend over my desk so I can admire you.” I nod my head quickly following her command. I let go of all anxiety and let her guide me with words.

“Before we start, let's discuss rules. If you are uncomfortable just let me know and we will stop, no questions asked. You can address me as ma’am or mommy. Whatever you are comfortable with sweet thing.” I nod along practically melting at the pet name. I stand in front of her chair facing her. She stalks around me once again. Putting her hand on my hips and pressing hers against mine. 

“Here is what’s gonna happen. I’m going to take these off.” She pulls at the waist band on my slacks.

“Then I’m going to bend you over my desk and fuck you till you forget your name. How does that sound?” Emily says, voice dripping with command. Her dominance taking over my being and I submit to her.

“That's it angel, I got you.” She hums, unbuttoning my slacks, pulling them down along with my panties. Leaving me in my black stilettos. She looks me in my eyes with so much love and desire. Like not only was she ready to ravage my soul but let me become her world. Like I am the only woman she’s ever wanted to be with. 

Her lips meet mine. She kisses with the same desire that I saw in her eyes. She kissed me like she’d never get the chance again. She pulled away, letting her hand turn me around and bend me over the desk. Her hands rubbing up and down my hips.

Her hands caress my inner thigh, slowly spreading them. When my full weight is on the table in front of me and legs are spread so much they are shaking, her fingers run through my slit. I can feel my wetness cover her soft fingertips.

“I’ve been dreaming about this.” She confesses, circling my clit. A moan is pulled from my lips and I try to move further into her hand, searching for more friction. 

“Patience, sweet thing.” She hums unbuttoning her pants running the strap through my folds.

“This okay baby?” She asks and I nod quickly.

“Please.” I whimper.

She slips her strap into me letting out a groan. Her hips move against mine, starting with slow rhythmic motions.

“You're just my little cum slut, huh baby? Letting me breed this pretty pussy.” Emily whispers in my ear. My breath hitches as her strap pumps into me.

“Yes ma’am. I belong to you.” I say breathlessly. 

Her thrusts start to become relentless, she pounds into me. Everytime our hips meet a moan escapes my lips. Her hand rubs up my back till she secures it around my throat applying pressure. My head goes fuzzy as her other hand wraps around my body to rub my clit.

“Yes, fuck. Right there ma’am.” I moan leaning into her touch. 

Everything feels so good I can feel the coil winding up.

“Awe is my pretty girl gonna cum for mommy?” She teases.

“Yes, please mommy? Can I cum? Please mommy I’ll be good, I promise.” I beg.

Her hand tightens around my throat as she pounds into me harder. Her skilled fingers rubbing tighter circles around my clit.

“Cum for me baby.” She grunts moving her hand over my mouth as I practically scream her name. Her thrusts become softer as she helps me ride out my high.

“That's it baby. Deep breaths.” She says pulling out of me.

Her hands move to my hair, gently moving it behind my ear and kissing my shoulder.

“You did so good for me baby.” Emily comforts me. I turn around, taking the strap off of her and hugging her tightly.

“It’s okay baby, I got you. I’m not going anywhere.” Her arms tighten around my body, kissing my forehead.

“I got you, I’m not going anywhere.” She repeats.

[exoticb-utters]

Hello!

Sooo happy I found your blog! I’ve been absolutely loving your Hank McCoy stuff (and honestly allll of your writings)

I was wondering if you might have time to write something angsty- confessing love kind of thing for the reader and Nightcrawler? I’ve always been a fan of his. He always seems to me that he’d be touch starved, despite being so charming.

FORGIVE ME FOR TAKING FOREVER ON THIS 😭😭😭😭😭😭

“Flufftober” series. 3 🎃 Kurt X GN Reader ‘Fluff’ Word Count: 1.2k

You stared at your ceiling. You couldn’t sleep, again. Try as you might, your brain wouldn’t let you get a wink tonight for some reason. 

You roll over to your side with a huff, looking at your bedside clock. It was two in the morning.

You smash your head against your pillow with an exasperated groan. You’d been like this for the past few weeks, on and off thankfully- but it was still annoying. 

You’d been under so much stress lately. Not just as an X-man, but a certain member of your team was driving you crazy. 

It was Kurt, obviously. 

The blue devil couldn’t stay out of your mind, no matter how hard you tried to shoo him away…so you could at least get some shut-eye.  

It was just so hard. He was so kind, nurturing, honest, passionate, and a goof- oh, you’re getting carried away when you should be sleeping…once again. 

You shouldn’t keep lying to yourself like this, giving yourself false hope. He was friendly to everyone, that was just Kurt. And you were no exception, just another X-Men…just another friend.

You sit up, rubbing your eyes with a yawn. Fresh air and a good ol’ walk by the tree line should do you some good. 

You quietly tip-toe down the stairs, careful not to wake anyone at this hour. However, it was unlikely for people with keen senses like Logan. But still, you tried. 

After throwing on a pair of shoes and a jacket, you slipped outside through the back door. 

You made your way down the grassy hills, leaves crunching underneath your feet as you made your way toward the forest. It was dark, with nothing but the stars and moonlight accompanying you tonight. 

A brisk autumn breeze rushes past you, dancing through the tree’s amber leaves. It was so calming, just watching nature move. 

You took a deep breath, the sweet smell of fall surrounding you. Just what you needed.

“Is everything okay Mein Freund?” A startling puff of air sounded behind you. 

You jump, yelping while grabbing your chest with a hand. “Kurt!” You whisper-tell, coughing from the smoke trails he left behind from his ‘bamphing’. 

“I’m sorry to startle you,” He said bashfully, flashing you his pointed canines in a toothy grin. “I noticed you sneak out alone- late in the night and I got worried!” He nervously chuckled, scratching at his neck.

You sighed, shaking your head with a soft smile on your face. “Oh Kurt, always worrying about others…” 

“I just wanted some…air is all.” You add with a shrug, huffing out a laugh. 

“Ah, I see…” He nods his head before looking up. “Well, it is a beautiful night out.” You hum with him in agreement. 

“Would you like to join me?” You ask reluctantly. His yellow eyes shifted back to you, a gentle smile still lingering in his expression. “Of course.” 

With that, you take his hand and pull him down to lie in the grass with you. You both land on leaves and soft grass, looking up at the stars littering the night sky.

While his gaze was directed upwards, his mind was freaking out over the fact you were touching his hand. 

He’s never touched- held hands before. This was all so new to him. Was he freaking out right now? He was definitely freaking out. He was feeling too hot. No, it was too cold outside to feel that warm. There had to be something wrong with him. Was there something wrong with him? Oh God, he’s going to be sick. 

“Kurt?” Your voice pulled Kurt out of his daze. 

“Y-Yes?” He shook his head, clearing his thoughts. “Nothing, just thought I’d lost you there.” You chuckle, watching Kurt’s eyes dart between you and your hand. 

You follow his line of sight before realizing your hand was still wrapped around his. “Oh! Sorry about that, forgot I was still doing that…” You release his hand, a little too quickly for Kurt’s liking.

His eyes furrowed in a frown. Did you not like holding his hand? It was a reaction he was used to, people not wanting to be around him because of his appearance. He was a mutant after all, and a very blue one at that. 

“It’s fine…did that make you…uncomfortable?” He asked you softly, voice barely above a whisper. 

You were taken aback. Had you hurt his feelings? This was all so confusing…

“No, I just..thought you didn’t want to hold mine…” You say, your gaze fixed on the stars, not having enough strength to look at Kurt. 

“It’s quite alright, I do not mind!” He smiles at you, taking a hold of your hand. “W-well as long as you’re comfortable with it.” You say as nonchalantly as possible. There was nothing nonchalant about this situation right now, you were making physical contact with the man you’ve been pining for the past few years! You were freaking out.

“I actually…really like you if I’m being honest.” He randomly blurts out, his statement effectively getting you to shoot up and look at him with wide eyes. 

“Oh, you don’t…feel the same, do you?” He states, rather than trying to find confirmation. He looks down at his hand still holding yours, disappointment written all across his features. 

Before you can explain yourself, he’s gone in a puff of blue-purple tendrils. You cough, waving your hand to clear the smoke from his vanishing act. Nice, real smooth. You scared him off. 

You get up, running to the mansion with nothing to lose…Well, other than sleep since it was late. But you had to find Kurt before he got the wrong idea. 

You spot him in a tree, sitting on a thick branch with his tail leisurely hanging off the side. Was he really just gonna sit there like you couldn’t see him? 

“Kurt!” You whisper-yelled, standing at the trunk of the tree. 

“Agh, I think I’ve embarrassed myself enough for one night! Let me wallow in self-pity alone…please…” He trailed off with a groan, leaning his head back to hit it against the tree. “Alright I’m coming up there-“ 

“WAIT!” You stop your advances up the tree, raising a brow questionably at him. “I-I’ll just come to you…” He mumbles. 

In a flurry of bamphs, he lands in front of you, his head hanging in humiliation. You let out a sigh before pulling him into an embrace. “What’s all this for?” He nervously chuckles, his arms moving stiffly to pat your back. 

First the hand holding, now hugs. Kurt feared he might explode from all the warmth and affection from you. 

“I like you Kurt.” You murmur, just loud enough for him to hear. 

When you’re met with no response, you open an eye to peek at his reaction, just to find a purple flush blooming on his blue complexion. And when you advert your gaze downwards, you notice his forked tail swaying. That was adorable…

“This might be the best day of my life.”

[iambrillyant]

“some people only loved the version of you that didn’t know your worth because they knew that by you stepping into your light it would expose their insecurities and you’d see them clearly for who they truly are.”

— billy chapata

[weaverofink]

oh shit metal stole tails' speak & spell

[wistfulwatcher]

[girllblogging777]

LATE NIGHT LOGIC 𝜗𝜚

husband!spencer reid x reader (fluff)

↳ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡 : 2k

��𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦 : after a leg injury, spencer has to stay home. you try to keep him occupied with games and enigmas, but your husband just happens to be smarter than einstein

click. click. click. the soft and repetitive sound of the your fingers on the keyboard was beginning to make you drowsy.

you couldn’t tell how long you’d been writing, but based on the way the moonlight was streaming through the curtains of you and spencer’s living room, it had been a while.

you looked up, blinking twice and slowly emerging from that article you had been assigned to redact. a soft smile creeped up your face at the sight of your favourite brunette in front of you.

today marked a week since spencer had come home injured. a week since the last case. a week since he hadn’t been able to work. and as much as you incredibly adored having your husband around, he was getting restless.

right now, he was leaning against the kitchen counter, eyes narrowed as he focused on the jar he was holding like it was his personal nemesis. you didn’t have much time to question what exactly he was doing with it, before he met your gaze and spoke up.

“did you know that the average american eats approximately 8.5 lbs of pickles a year ?”

you chuckled. of course, your husband would break a comfortable silence between the two of you with this sort of information

“seriously, babe ?”

he shrugged, shifting his weight to his left leg and trying to disguise a wince.

“i just happened to be reading the ingredients of your oh-so-lovely jar of pickles and-“

“woah, you’ve definitely reached peak boredom. this has gotta stop, spence.“

he sighed, leaning down to look back at the damn pickle jar, before putting it down.

“i know, i know. but i can’t help it, i’m going crazy. i’ve done everything i could, reorganised all your books on the shelf and re-read every single article you wrote since you started working. i need to do something with my brain or else i’ll go crazy-“

you cut him off gently, speaking in an understanding tone. anyone would enjoy a week off work, but rest was not a word in spencer reid’s vocabulary.

“put the jar down, you. come here”

he didn’t think twice, obeying you like he always did. in a couple of long strides, although he was still limping a bit, he sat down next to you on the couch, hands fiddling with the sleeves of his striped pj shirt.

you reached for your stack of documents, frantically searching through them. you knew exactly what you were looking for.

“hey, what are you doing ?” he asked curiously, shoulders sagged as if he was disappointed not to be getting your attention

“there it is.”

he looked at the sheet you’d just handed him.

“huh, eistein ? really ?”

you nodded, a playful glint in your eyes “yeah, the zebra puzzle. they passed it around at work, it’s a pretty difficult thing. you should give it a try”

and obviously, he wasn’t listening anymore. brows creased, nose scrunched, he was already back in working mode within seconds as his eyes scanned the enigma.

you couldn’t take your eyes off of him for a moment, a soft smile on your lips. he just looked so handsome like this, when he was so focused that you could practically hear the gears turning in his brain.

“see, this should keep you occupied for a while” you spoke, leaning back against the couch and shifting your attention back to your laptop.

he didn’t bother answering, way too concentrated to even be able to look up from the paper. soon enough, the comfortable silence between the two of you was back.

click. click. click.

for a moment, he seemed to have forgotten all about his injured leg and impracticality to work. no more reading off random ingredient lists or wandering mindlessly around the apartment.

just you and your wonderful genius sitting on the couch, keeping yourselves busy with your respective tasks.

“just so you know,” you said, glancing at what he’d began scribbling on the sheet, “it’s really complicated”

“no, there’s a pattern… it’s actually pretty simple to find out once i get the-“

“the color of the house. the pet. the drink. the brand of cigarettes.” you enumerated while you kept writing, picking up on something he mumbled incoherently under his breath.

his lips were shaped in that signature upturned smile you dreamt of kissing away, and you kept going. “i mean basically, it’s gonna take you a good thirty minutes before-“

“done.”

you looked up, your brows raising. “what ?”

“i’m done. first to fifth house, left to right. this one owns the zebra”

you couldn’t help but freeze for a second, before pinching the bridge of your nose. “are you kidding me ? it took me an hour to figure it out !”

he shrugged, head tilting to the side as he answered like it was the easiest thing in the world. “well, i wouldn’t deserve the title of genius if i hadn’t been able to do it.”

“yeah… you definitely are a genius. fine. and here i thought this would keep you occupied for more than a minute”

spencer leaned in, brushing a wild strand of hair behind your ear in the most casual way possible. instantly, the rhythm of your pulse accelerated, and you could simply hum when he pressed a soft kiss to your cheek.

“thank you, though. for keeping up with me.”

you shook your head, reassuring him “it’s fine. should’ve known i wouldn’t be able to finish up that article before you’d drop another fun fact”

“oh, you love my knowledge about pickles.” he attempted in a flirty tone, but since it was spencer, it just sounded like he was actually expecting you to agree and ask more about it.

you simply giggled, nodding before he spoke up again “by the way, considering how many pickles i’ve seen you consume within the past week, you’re way above average”

yeah. it was definitely going to be something, having to keep your husband occupied for the rest of his sick leave.

and even though the constant rambling and attention he needed should annoy you, those brown eyes of his were enough for you to selfishly hope he’d stay around forever.

a/n : had to solve this enigma the other day and my first thought was “i bet spencer could do this within minutes”… anyways, hope y’all enjoy whatever this is !!

@gf2bellamy @iamgonnagetyouback @reidscherrylady @xervoxs @kaz-03

[binniesangel]

Secret Sunshine | spencer reid x reader ｡𖦹°‧

genre: fluff!!

summary: spencer and reader were childhood best friends, until spencer had to leave. spencer left reader when he went to college and they haven’t spoken in over ten years. one might, at a some random local bar garcia dragged the BAU too, spencer finds someone he wasn’t expecting to ever see again. his sunshine.

content: sunshine!reader, use of y/n, awkward!spencer, but he starts to get more confident slowly? idk, lighthearted teasing, spencer left her, spencer and reader are childhood best friends, nervous!spencer, nervous!readet, bubbly!reader, lots of longing for each other, super fluffy and cute, spencer struggles with being affected by his job, baker!reader

notes: guys this is my first time writing like this please im so so sorry if it’s bad!! pls don’t be mean i will cry

word count: 2.8k

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spencer didn’t often entertain the teams schemes of bringing him out to a club or bar. however, their last case in particular got to him. the details still fresh and relentless in his mind. a case involving children. cases were hard enough, but when it involved children, that came with a different feeling. A stronger one.

Spencer hated how much his job affected him. Especially when he looked at his team members, they never seemed to have any issue. Sure, the pictures could be gruesome and disturbing, which the team were affected by. But Spencer, it wasn’t just the pictures. It was guilt that came along with it. maybe the only downside to an eidetic memory. He could never take his mind off of anything. The cases, the victims, the guilt. What if he could’ve done better? What if he figured things out faster? Would he have saved those victims? Was this his fault? It was eating at him too much, maybe that’s why he agreed to garcia’s team bonding event at a local bar.

“having fun, genius?” Morgan’s familiar teasing tone suddenly appeared. no, he was not. but Penelope was right there, and he wouldn’t hear the end of it if he said anything of the sort in front of her. he settled on “sure, a blast.” spencer wasn’t usually one for sarcasm, but an occasional snippy response happened here and there. “come on, spence..loosen up!! we all are in need of a break.” jj sat down next to him, her smile was warm and her voice kind. the teams teasing was playful and light, it always was. but spencer did not need any more stress, and this environment was starting to feel a lot more overwhelming than expected. too loud, music playing and people shouting over it, too bright, light for every corner yet it was so dark. and way too many people. he just needed a break, just a couple seconds.

“im going to get a drink.” spencer muttered, standing up and making his way to the bar. “uh, just, a sprite please.” he never liked alcohol, spencer liked control. and alcohol came with uncontrollable chaos. spencer lingered at the bar for a couple minutes, at first it was a bit calming. there weren’t many people surrounding him, and the music wasn’t as loud over here. that was until a swarm of people came over to the bar, shouting and practically pushing spencer out of the way. he sighed, a bit annoyed, and grabbed his drink. he returned to the table filled with his coworkers, and sat back down. jj said something to him, he doesn’t respond. he means to, but he just can’t.. his attention was somewhere else. on someone else.

her. those brown curls that bounced with every step. the dimples, you hadn’t changed much since he last saw you. which was, the summer when you both were thirteen. your tan skin glistened under the lights, and the smile stretched onto your face was so familiar, he almost felt pulled to you. he knew he couldn’t go over to you, what if you didn’t remember? but, he could just…look, right?

“Reid? Hello…pretty boy?” Morgan snapped his fingers in Spencer’s face. Spencer shook his head slightly “huh..?” He muttered, not turning his attention away from you. he took a quick glance at morgan, his attention springing back to you almost instantly. Derek laughed at him, “welcome back man, what were you..”

he trails off, following Spencer’s eyes. a low whistle followed by some deep laughter. “well, look at that, pretty boys’s got himself a crush.” Spencer shook himself slightly and cleared his throat. Taking a sip from his drink. “Shut up morgan, I uh..” emily shook her head at him “don’t even try Reid, he is never letting this go.” She was right; but Spencer couldn’t bring himself to care much in that moment. You were in the center of his brain, and you were hard to shake.

He thought this couldn’t get any worse, any more awkward. the moment he noticed you, he felt overwhelmed with nostalgia. Even though he was scared that you would notice him, and how you would respond. he still felt a longing for you. a longing for the person he had considered his home, and the person that he was forced to leave when college came around. the shock from seeing you and the embarrassment from his team, which he knew was coming, was all to much. just enough to make his hand twitch and sweat, which in result, the drink in his hand spilled. not all the way, but just enough to cover the part of the table in front of him. as he scrambled to clean it up, his ears turning pink from his teams teasing, he heard that voice.

you weren’t even talking to him yet, you had walked in the bar with some unfamiliar faces. friends of yours, he assumed. the feelings of embarrassment and nostalgia were pushed down. and the pain of guilt flooded through his system. spencer didn’t mean to leave you. you were, well, everything to him. but college was important to him, and even more important to his mom. he couldn’t say no. losing you was heartbreaking, but you encouraging him to go, that buried him deep into the ground. you were just so kind, so caring. even though Spencer was the only person you ever truly trusted, you told him to move across the country because you wanted him to chase his dreams. he still felt guilty, he still felt like an absolute idiot. maybe it was the creepy staring from both spencer. Or maybe it was the equally creepy staring from his team. but eventually you turned around, and you had noticed him. you had seen Spencer. The man you have been dying to see again since the moment he left. you walked over to him, not meaning to leave your friends behind, but doing it anyway.

“Spencer Reid? that cannot be you!” A warm voice flooded the area Spencer and his team were currently occupying. “y/n, uh..hi..!” He mumbled awkwardly, the teams glance stuck on Spencer, except for morgan, of course. Who was busy ogling over y/n. He did that with every pretty girl, but, y/n was different. Spencer didn’t understand the feelings arising, but he knew he didn’t want morgan looking at you like that for any longer.

laughter, soft and feminine broke out. “Spence, really? We’ve known each other for what? Over ten years? Don’t be so awkward!!” y/n spoke directly towards Spencer, not even acknowledging the rest of his team yet. Morgan nudged Spencer with his shoulder. “Pretty boy, ten years!! You’ve known this gorgeous lady for over ten years and you’re acting like a high school boy?”

“Shut up- morgan! I, I just didn’t expect to see her, okay?” Spencer responded, his voice unsure, which wasn’t common. “You didn’t expect to see me? Seriously spence, am I that forgettable?” You teased lightly. Not in a mean way, but in the childish way you had done all those years ago. “Wait, years? Oh you have some explaining to do!!” Garcias chirpy voice sounded out. The rest of the team, agreeing in hums and yeahs.

“right..” he cleared his throat, again. “Guys, this is y/n, she is, was, a good friend of mine.” despite the sting from his words, y/n smiled politely at everyone, “hi, it’s so nice to meet you all!” you were ushered to sit, by penelope, and you complied, taking the seat next to Spencer. you, feeling uneasy about all of the new faces, stared down at your feet. Spencer watched you, his eyes not ever leaving you. Not even for a second. His eyes were trained on you confidently, but spencer was nervous. His face was flushed, even though it was barely noticeable under the fluorescent bar lights. The team all watched the two of you with knowing eyes, their reactions pleasant to seeing their genius yet awkward Dr. Spencer Reid having such a connection. Morgan seemed the most amused, giving Spencer a playful slap on the back “my man!!” He joked before walking off with penelope.

Spencer had laughed at Derek slightly, but stopped when his eyes finally lingered over you again. he looked at you deeply, his eyes caressing over your features, he couldn’t believed how different you looked. but in a way, you looked the exact same. your hair was just as curly, your eyes bright with that same spark you held when you were young. even though you looked a little different, you still felt the same to spencer. like warmth, like home. spencer must’ve been staring for too long because you had noticed, giving him a small smile, biting her lip hesitatingly before saying.

“hi..sorry for, intruding.” you whispered, a soft, but apologetic smile on your face. for the first time during this entire conversation, spencer smiled. This was a good sign, you believed. At first, when you had sat down, you felt the nerves rush over you. It had been a long time, and even though Spencer was the one who had left. You felt worried that maybe, he wasn’t as fond that you returned as he made it seem. You wanted him to still care about you, and you were worried that the love he had for you may have faded over the years.

“hey, don’t be sorry. im glad to see you.” you had calmed down slightly at his words, spencer wasn’t one to lie unless completely necessary. So you trusted he was being truthful with his words. Even if he wasn’t, to hear them was so enticing, you just wanted him to talk on and on. About whatever, his voice and his words were all you wanted to hear anyway.

Spencer hadn’t realized how much he missed that, the simplicity of it. When life had been so cruel, you had been his escape, a source of light in a house full of shadows. ‘Sunshine,’ he used to call you, but now it felt more like a warning. Maybe, just maybe, you were the one thing that could make him feel like himself again.

And that voice, spencer swears he could hear that voice forever and never get bored. he would dream about you, often. your appearance was vivid, but as the years passed, the familiarity of your voice started to fade. when he finally heard it again, it was like heaven. you always spoke so beautifully. it was purely angelic. everything about you was an angelic. and was spencer glad that you were finally back in front of him, and not just in his dreams.

the smile on your face turned brighter, you took a sip out of your drink. “so..it’s been a while.” You comment, not sure how to start a conversation when the two of you haven’t talk for over 10 years. “sure has, sunshine.”

sunshine. that nickname, spencer used to call you that all the time. he said you were like his own personal piece of sunshine. quite poetic for a thirteen year old boy, but then again, it was spencer. warmth flooded into your cheeks, a soft look of joy and nostalgia filling her eyes.

spencer looked different, his hair was longer, and he looked a lot more mature. even though his outward appearance had changed, spencer was still spencer, and you liked that. when the rest of the team, who had been lingering, dispersed amongst the bar, spencer calmed down.

“what are you doing here anyway, not that im not happy you’re here, but..” you laughed softly and shook your head. “I just started working a new job here, speaking of jobs, you’re finally the fbi agent you dreamed of being!!” you said accidentally, putting a gentle hand on his arm. “im proud of you, spence.” his eyes softened, his other hand placed on top of yours. he gave it a quick squeeze. “thank you, sunshine.” the quick squeeze, the comfort that came with it was almost breaktaking. you hadn’t felt the calmness that spencer’s touch brought in years. feeling it, was almost overwhelming. even though spencer was the one who had initiated the sudden touch, he still felt the warmth flood through him. your hand, even just the simplest connection had almost knocked the wind out of him.

spencer wasn’t sure why he felt so comfortable. After all, you two haven’t seen each other in years. and, as cliche as it might sound, it feels like you two never parted ways. you were always his comfort, a home, in a way. between his absent father, schizophrenic mother, and the torment he suffered in school from his peers, you were always the person he went to. you were his little piece of sunshine. and now that he’s an fbi agent dealing with his own personal demons, maybe that sunshine is just what he needs?

Spencer shakes himself from this thoughts, turning to face you more. he hasn’t take his hand off of yours, and you haven’t made any move to retract your hand. so he keeps it there, resting gently on top of yours. it’s relaxing. Spencer realizes he hasn’t said much so he makes small talk. “new job, you said? what kind of job?” he asks, looking at you. his eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips. you smile, brightly. a sense of pride shining through. “a bakery!! you know I used to talk about owning one all time!!” spencer does know. you were an amazing baker, and the way you gushed and smiled over your job, almost made spencer feel giddy inside. he grins, a boyish and familiar sight.

“y/n, that’s amazing!! you truly are the best baker I’ve ever known.” you laugh, giving him a serious nod. “oh you bet I am!! so, back to you. big shot fbi agent, hm?” spencer dulls just slightly. but, of course, you notice. you’re about to spill out a string of apologies for even bringing it up but Spencer stops you before you even get the words out. “don’t apologize, it’s just hard. all the..victims, and cases. I used to think I was helping people. But now, it’s almost like im just losing myself more and more.”

your eyes get sad, a sympathetic look on your face. you know Spencer hates being pitied, but you couldn’t help it. “you are helping people. you always have spencer, that’s just the kind of you person you are! but trust me, we all get overwhelmed and we all get lost in things we don’t want to. im here, yeah?” you comfort him with your words, it was always something you were perfect at. you could always solve all of his problems, even for just a moment, with your words.

spencer looks deep in your eyes, for just a moment. “you haven’t changed at all, you know that, sunshine?” he mutters, his voice deep and gravely. you shiver at his tone. you couldn’t say the same for him. “you are completely different, did you know that?” he chuckles, his loose hold on your hand becoming just a bit firmer, his thumb rubbing lazily against the back of your hand. teenage spencer was your everything, but this new, more mature side of him? oh, you could get used to it.

you stir your drink with the straw, looking at him, lingering a bit too long. he was captivating, you felt drawn in by his presence. You weren’t sure if it was the slight buzz from the alcohol, or the adrenaline from seeing him, but you could not take your eyes off of him. obviously, Spencer had noticed. he laughed, the deep noise rumbling in your ears. “Careful there, sunshine. you keep looking at me like that..I might just start thinking im interesting.”

you laugh, Spencer always made you laugh. In every situation, every scenario. “Well we can’t have you grow an ego can we?” You nudge his chest playfully with your hand. Spencer is slightly stunned by the sudden and unexpected touch, but he raises an eyebrow and gives a slow nod.

“I don’t think I can help it..” you mutter.

“Help what?” He questions, looking down at you, his voice low.

“Staring at you.” You say, playing with you drink, a ghost of a smile playing on your lips.

“Good, I didn’t want you to stop anyway.” He plays along, getting bolder as the minutes pass.

you blushed at his words, spencer used to be a shy and awkward boy, and some of that old personality had shown through tonight. but right now, when it was just you and him. spencer was confident, and it was different. a good different. it made you never want to leave him again.

but It was staring to get late, and even though you both didn’t want to. You knew that this was going to have to end soon. But Spencer was determined, he wasn’t letting you go. Not again, not ever. He wouldn’t let it happen.

As the night began to wind down, you glanced at your phone, realizing how late it had gotten. You stood, your chair scraping softly against the floor. “I should probably head out,” you said, a hint of reluctance in your voice.

Spencer stood with you, his hands fidgeting in his pockets. He didn’t want the night to end, not yet.

As you reached for your bag, Spencer hesitated for a moment before stepping closer, his hand brushing lightly against yours. The contact made you pause, your eyes meeting his.

“Y/N…” His voice was quiet but firm, his usual nervousness softened by something deeper. “I don’t want to wait another ten years to see you again.”

The sincerity in his words made your chest tighten. You smiled, warmth flooding your features as you reached up and gently pushed a strand of his longer hair out of his face. “You won’t have to, Spence,” you said softly.

For a moment, it was just the two of you, the noise of the bar fading into the background. Spencer’s lips curled into a rare, boyish grin, the kind you hadn’t seen in years, as you slipped your hand into his.

It wasn’t a grand gesture, but it didn’t need to be. As the two of you walked toward the exit together, his hand still resting in yours, it felt like the first step toward something you’d both been waiting for, even if neither of you realized it until now.

And for Spencer, for the first time in years, the world felt just a little brighter.