#please i'm going to implode

[homosexualslug]

lauren ambrose sharing the same concerns I have for adult tai's storyline moving forward I see (also not tawny nicknaming other tai "felicia" 😭) (x)

[red-winter-is-coming]

Turns out, even a Soul Jam split between multiple cookies will awaken....

Or, a silly little AU I've been concocting for a couple months now! Gonna make a rp blog at some point but I at least wanna wait until the Eternal Sugar / Hollyberry updates finish!

The basic premise of the AU is simple: as a token of goodwill/trust/etc, most of the Ancients give a small peace of their Soul Jam to their most trusted allies.

Overtime, it just becomes second nature. A mark of how much trust they have on their shoulders, a way for the rulers to always know who they can trust.

And then Beast-Yeast happens. Turns out, when the Ancients themselves gained their awakened forms, the same happened to the cookies holding those small fragments....

And chaos ensues, because 2/3s of the Abundance holders should be dead and are Not, one of the Resolution holders has no fucking clue what's happening, and both Truth holders just woke up and have been transformed overnight with no word from Pure Vanilla in weeks

Light of Truth -

Although it wasn't until he lost his memories, Pure Vanilla did hand out two small fragments of his Soul Jam.

One to Black Raisin, even before he regained those precious memories. One as a gift to the leader he trusted to keep the village safe throughout it all.

One to Strawberry Crepe, as a peace offering. What harm could come if he indulged in the child's curiously just this once?

Crepe was a design I always had in mind, with small physical changes! They now have pretty magic freckles, lights glinting in the hair, and various other little stuff!!! I really just enjoyed the idea of the subtle stuff for them!

(I also like to imagine that they're now able to read the Soul Jams, and have an internal sense of if someone is lying or not)

Black Raisin gets wings :3 It's kinda hard to work with just the sprite, but they're white chocolate, as a reference to chocolate cover raisins!!! And honestly the hair was just because the wings felt a bit bland, so the idea of the Light of Truth taking over her hair was an idea that I figured looked awesome!!

Also the Crows and her can communicate without any hesitation. She just starts chirping to chat with a random crow in the middle of a meeting. does not realize this is happening

Light of Resolution -

Long before he closed the kingdom off, Dark Cacao gave his most trusted soldiers their own chip of his Soul Jam, trusting that they'd understand what it meant.

And understand they did. Crunchy Chip made sure that even among the coldest nights and hardest training sessions, that gem stayed safe. Caramel Arrow, even while exiled, treasured the shard of something precious with her life.

Dark Choco, on the other hand, only gained his due to sheer luck. Affagato had gotten his hands on the small chip of Soul Jam that had originally been reserved for the prince, and lost it in the wilderness. Dark Choco just happened to be in the right place to find it.

For the designs, I. honestly I wasn't sure how exactly the best way about changing them up would be. Aside from making Crunchy Chip a furry. that was a given lol

Tbh Crunchy Chip was kind hard to figure out a design for, but in the same vein as Carrow, I think at lot of the changes Awakening brought were in his instincts and shit. mans will know if you're acting shifty from a mile away

It's a bit hard to see, but Dark Choco has some draconic traits! Claws, tail, horns, and some scales on his face! Honestly I just liked the idea of him echoing his father a bit through that :D

Carrow my beloved I couldn't find much to change up about your design because in my head most of the changes were magic in nature. Just know that all her arrows are 100% magical now and will never miss any target. and small trails of purple magic follow them. please see the vision

Light of Abundance -

Mozzarella was always a candidate for this role, being one of Golden Cheese's most trusted allies. Golden Cheese thought the shard of her Soul Jam had died with her friend, but it turns out things didn't go exactly as she assumed...

Burnt Cheese, in the same vein as Mozzarella, was assumed to have died alongside the shard he was given. Until Smoked Cheese misplaced the Soulcheese's after defeating Burning Spice.

Smoked Cheese, by all means, should NOT have been given a fragment of untold power. But Golden Cheese saw something in him that caused her to pause. Maybe it was a small reflection of herself, maybe the hope that it'd placate him. Whatever the reason, when the Goddess of Eternal Gold regained her wings, her adviser as gained a pair of his own.

Smoked Cheese gets wings!! I liked the idea of him having smaller, but very capable, wings!! Some of his outfit was shifted to a more gold color, and the purple smoke is also gold! (this will be a theme)

Mozzarella gets cool horns! I also adored the idea of her Soul Jam fragment taking the place of the cheese slice on her head piece!!! I then proceeded to (attempt to) make it look like she was sprinkled in gold dust!!!!

Burnt Cheese... I'm so sorry my guy I had like no ideas ;-; I did end up giving him a small tail, and made him look like parts of his cape/head piece were coated in gold! Again I'm sorry Burnt Cheese fans I didn't know what to do for his designs ;-;

[lazylittledragon]

Genuinely rattling my cage knowing what's coming in season 2 your reactions will be INSANE

I'M SO AFRAID I HAVE NO IDEA HOW TF THEY'RE GOING TO FIX ANY OF THIS CLUSTERFUCK

[skibasyndrome]

.

[greyedian]

MAN I'm seriously so sad about season 2. Bc I wish act 2 had the same emotional impact on me as it appears to have on so many others. But rn I'm just somewhere between unable to care and actively annoyed by some of those writing decisions. Seriously the more I think about it the less I like it.

[naffeclipse]

do you ever sit and think about everything that is happening to you and what you need to do and what you want to do and you're sitting motionless completely locked into your brain and it all goes nowhere but it's filling you to the point of overload

yeah anyways

[borealflorist]

One thing that never fails to surprise me in retail is how angry customers get when they find out that you have a spine.

[chronomally]

Yin Hanjiang finally believes that Wenren E is actually alive and that his affections and irascible, two-faced behavior are accepted (we're still working on "he loves you too and thinks your murderous side is extremely hot") but they still can't see each other face to face because Yin Hanjiang will get so overwhelmed that his psyche will start to shred itself into pieces and in the middle of all of this Baili Qingmiao has the audacity to take three days to get dressed (she had an inconveniently-timed breakthrough and is now finally cultivating the Path of Indifference for real this time)

[hylianengineer]

Seething with rage because my DnD character might be about to die (mini boss fight, unconcious, already failed a death save, and I'm the healer), we won't get to resolve the cliffhanger for three more weeks (my job is making me do fieldwork on our game nights), and on top of everything else happening in my life right now that just feels unfair.

[canadianlucifer]

you ever just think about some characters a little too much and-

[nebulations]

[ID: Naruto fanart of genin Naruto and Kakashi walking through a snowy area whole being trailed by penguins. Naruto excitedly puffs breath into the air while Kakashi watches the penguin's antics. End ID]

🐧 by あい@i_sensei97

[nyxknowsnothing]

My financial aid didn't cover all of what I owe, so now I have to pay over $500, and I saw something that might be another charge around an hour ago and almost missed the bus to get to class because of how badly I panicked. It's due on Friday. I am sick to my stomach.

[sleepdeprivedfrfr]

inspired by this tik tok lol

you and velcrobf!satoru have been dating for over a year now. in just a few short months, your boyfriend has been basically attached to you by the hip. ever since your one year anniversary has passed, he's been trying to convince you to move in with him. he honestly wanted you to move in with him during the first month of your relationship, but he knew he would scare you away.

you told him that you would think about it, as it was a big decision for you to make. satoru respected your wishes, but that didn't mean he hasn't been absolutely miserable without you there with him every second of the day.

recently, your extremely clingy boyfriend has been inviting you to come over practically every day, which eventually leads to you sleeping over. its become a routine, and satoru fucking loves it.

tonight was movie night, and you and satoru were in bed having a marvel movie marathon. your legs were slung across his lap underneath the soft blanket that covered you both. you stared up at your boyfriend as he gently caressed you legs while being completely enveloped by the fighting sequence on the screen, you then had the idea to pull out your phone and record while pranking your boyfriend.

"satoru."

his head shot towards you as soon as he heard you call him by anything but a nickname, "what's wrong? are you feeling okay?"

you hid a smile and pretended to rub your eyes, "I think... I think 'm gonna go home now 'kay?"

he sat up straight while unknowingly gripping on your legs, "what? why?"

"im really tired, so I'm gonna leave—"

"no!"

you watched as your boyfriend pleaded before you could even finish your sentence and you couldn't help but giggle at his quick outburst.

"why are you laughing? sweets can you please stay?"

his eyes softened as they pleaded with you, your heart almost imploded right then and there.

"oh my god 'toru I was kidding."

he pulled you into him and pouted as you ruffled his hair, "that wasn't funny."

you smiled and gave him a peck on the cheek, "you mad at me 'toru? does this mean I can't move in anymore?"

satoru looked down at you with the biggest grin on his face, "you better not be prankin' me sweets."

ALSO THANK YOU GUYS FOR 1K HOLY FRICK ILY

[qlossytbh]

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGeuQ8EA6/

I am obsessed with this edit!

Can you do a spencer reid x bau reader where she is very closed off emotionaly so he doesnt know if she likes him back or not until she does the little "tuck her hair behind her ears thing"?

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐮𝐜𝐤 - 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐱 𝐛𝐚𝐮!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 you were someone spencer found very hard to read. that is until the day of your birthday, where you accidentally do the infamous double tuck

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 PURE FLUFF, my beloved awkward spence <3

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 2.5k

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 this is so sickeningly sweet. my heart is literally about to implode, they’re so awkward and wholesome. this request was so fucking cute i just had to do something with it

𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

"Garcia!" You smiled sweetly, immediately infecting those around with a mirror of your very smile. You held one of your favorite candles between your hands, tracing the glass beneath your fingertips— You had just been meaning to buy a new one.

Garcia beamed proudly, knowing she had nailed your birthday gift, a task many deemed imposible. It’s not that you were hard to please, not at all. You had always been closed off with those around you, opting to talk very little about yourself and allowing people to talk a lot about themselves, which is what people nowadays loved doing. As a profiler, you knew exactly how to prevent prying eyes from seeing anything past the depths of yours.

However, to Spencer particularly, it was absolutely infuriating to not be able to read you properly. Any hypothesis he made up in his head based on any of your gazes, your gestures, your small quirks and antics— only turned out being proven wrong since you'd completely redirect him in an opposite direction to what he believed you were thinking.

He was constantly thrown off by you, and Spencer wasn't the type of person who particularly enjoyed being wrong or not being able to perfectly calculate and analyze a situation. His job was profiling after all.

There was a single reason and he tried to remain completely oblivious. But he knew that the only reason as to why he wanted so desperately to know about you was because he liked you— he really liked you.

As in 'became a blabbering mess around you' liked you, as in 'couldn't formulate a coherent sentence around you' liked you— It was so hard for him to act normal around you. Anytime you appeared out of no where, asking how his day had been, and offering another one of those teeth-rottening sweet smiles, he'd go blank and feel utterly stupid. Every aspect of being a genius vanished into thin air when it came to you.

Morgan teased him persistently, being able to see his fuming crush from a mile away. Spencer sat down quietly, watching you hug Garcia happily as you sat the candle down onto your desk. When you pulled away, you tucked a single strand of hair behind one ear, smiling brightly.

"So, has she done it yet?" Morgan inquired, appearing right behind Spencer as he watched you silently from his own desk. Spencer flinched, turning immediately in his chair, looking over at his fellow co-worker and friend like a deer caught in headlights. He used his hand to push Morgan's face away from his with a shove. Garcia, who accompanied Morgan, stood by the side, bemused entirely by the situation .

Morgan lowered his tone, lacing it with implicit teases that flew past his familiar smirk. He leaned against Spencer's desk. "So how's the stalking going Lover boy?"

Garcia laughed to herself unwittingly while she mixed her coffee around in her mug with a spoon. Spencer glowered at the two of them.

"I'm not stalking," He defended matter of factly. "And stop with the 'lover boy'"

"But that's what you'd call someone who's head over heels for our dear little—"  Morgan began saying in a sing-song voice as he poked at Spencer's cheek, desperate to get a reaction out of his constant teasing. With a firm slap, Spencer shooed him away, blushing profusely.

"I'm not.!" He fussed. Garcia let out a soft snort, to which Spencer was not amused by. In the slightest.

"Really?" Garcia asked, almost in amusement. The only one truthfully believing what Spencer was saying was himself.

"I'm just looking t-to—" Spencer pulled his lips into a flat line, unable to come up with a plausible excuse quick enough. "—to figure out what she may want for her birthday."

Garcia and Morgan exchanged a brief glance before simultaneously regarding Spencer. He sputtered, still glaring at them.

"What?!"

"Oh nothing.." Garcia took a sip of her coffee with a smirk. "Has she done it yet?"

"I asked the same thing!" Derek turned to Garcia. They laughed together as if one big secret was being tossed around in front of everyone and no one else knew. Spencer furrowed his brows, looking at them oodly.

"Done what?" Spencer couldn't help but ask, curiosity tickling him.

"The double tuck," Garcia stated, looking back over at Reid. The furrow in Spencer's brow deepened as he opened his mouth to speak.

"The—what?"

Derek then proceeded to give a very specific demonstration of whatever it was Garcia was talking about. Derek batted his lashes, putting on the most innocent face he could muster and giggled nervously as he pretended to tuck hair behind both ears. Spencer cringed at his antics while Garcia let out a laugh.

"When she really likes a guy and gets nervous she tucks her hair behind both ears at the same time,"

Spencer looked back over at you as you handed a fellow co-worker a few files, talking aimlessly. You threw your head back laughing at something the woman who chatted with you had said and Spencer couldn't stop a small smile from creeping it’s way onto his face.

"She hasn't," He said, still looking at you intently. Garcia and Derek shared a look and with one more sip of coffee, she added.

"She will.”

"Watch out lover boy, she'll catch you staring—" Morgan whispered in Spencer's ear, which only caused him to reach back in protest and slap Derek away. He turned to glare at him while Morgan laughed.

You thanked Garcia one final time and turned your attention over at Morgan who was now laughing in a way that you felt intrigued enough to want to be involved in whatever it was the two of them were laughing at. You tilted your head slightly to the side, furrowing your brows with a smile.

"What's so funny over there boys?" Penelope asked, lips curving into a sly smirk while she crossed her arms across her body. Spencer froze, looking over at you immediately.

"Uh— we, uhm—" He stammered, cheeks beginning to buzz with heat. Before he could dig his grave any deeper, JJ and Emily walked into the room singing happy birthday with a tray of cupcakes in their hands.

You turned to them, eyes blowing wide. A nervous laugh erupted out of you, causing you to lower your face and hide it in your hands, feeling profusely embarrassed. Getting this kind of public attention wasn’t something you preferred, and it made you wonder if there was anyone that truthfully enjoyed getting their chants of happy birthday’s in public.

Spencer’s could practically feel and hear the way his heart bursted in his chest as he watched you crinkle your face in embarrassment. It was evident on every single fraction of his face— the awe that pooled behind his irises and the way his cheeks were tainted a specific shade of pink.

"Someone's fallin'—" Derek started.

"Shut up."

The day had gone by swiftly. It had been a slow and uneventful day, so no crimes were up for reviewing. You had instead, been drowned in paperwork that had your back aching by the end of the day.

However, being surrounded by all of your friends and receiving so much appreciation and love on your special day had been a plus, urging you further to push throughout the rest of the day.

Hotch had given you an okay to leave early, and knowing that your parents were waiting for you to take you out for your birthday dinner, you hurriedly packed up your things into your purse.

On your way out, you shot a goodbye to everyone with a bright smile plastered across your features. As you walked past Spencer's desk, you offered him a brief glance accompanied with a small wave. “Bye Spence,"

He waved back woefully, blinking rapidly and pressing his lips into a tight smile that inched sideways. Not wanting to give himself the pleasure of gawking at you further, he turned to his files, swirling his pen in his hand nervously.

Someone cleared their throat, catching Spencer's attention. He turned seeing JJ, Emily and Morgan peering over at him from their respective desks.

"Really?" Emily pinched the skin between her eyebrows with frustration.

"What?" Suddenly he was feeling mortified that all his co-workers had been watching his entire inner-turmoil.

"Did you even give her the gift you spent weeks putting together?" JJ tested, resting her chin in her hand. Spencer looked away sheepishly, scribbling something onto his paper and not entirely sure how JJ knew about it.

"I— I forgot.." He said, voice small while he tripped over his own words.

"Reid, just get out there," Derek urged. He was beginning to get restless with watching the two of you ghost around eachother like two idiots.

Spencer stopped scribbling and glanced over at you briefly as you walked out the main door that lead towards the elevators. He looked back over to the others who all shot him a look of encouragement. He supposed that it wouldn't be a bad idea just to— you know, give you your present.

The impulse in him was screaming and yelling at him to just get up and chase after you. But another part of him was forcing him to stay glued to his desk, letting you leave yet again.

It really didn't help him not being sure where you stood when it came to your friendship. At times, he’d get the smallest intuition that maybe, just even possibly, you were on the same page as him, but the insecurity that lingered within him was loud enough to prevent him from ever doing anything about it.

He had to get over himself— it was just a present. Everyone had given you one except him, and he didn't want you thinking he didn't care. He knew he didn't give it to you not because he didn't care but because he cared too much and he felt really scared that maybe by giving you his gift you may not—

He clapped his eyes shut, realizing he really had to stop overthinking and just, in the ‘wise’ words of Morgan, 'shoot his shot'.

Spencer, peered down at his pocket, and back over at the door.

You pushed the glass door open, looking down at your phone and tugging your scarf up to cover your nose from the piercing cold.

"Y/n!" You turned, surprised to see Spencer running through the lobby and out the main door, catching up to you.

You watching him, wide-eyed and taken aback as he jogged up to you, opening his mouth to say something but having to lean over to catch his breath. He didn’t know if it had been the brief run or the unforeseen anxiety that caused him to run out of breathe— whichever it was, he needed to work on it.

You let out a soft laugh, finding his behavior amusing. “You okay?”

You followed him with your gaze while he finally straightened himself. No words were said as his chest heaved. He looked into your eyes, immediately regretting it as his rapid pulse hammered against his head. You too began to feel your heart begin to pick up its pace until you found yourself reaching up and tucking your hair behind both ears, looking at the floor sheepishly

And there it was.

Spencer's mind stopped running the second he registered your movements and Garcia's words flashed across his mind so quickly he almost didn’t remember.

"When she really likes a guy and gets nervous she tucks her hair behind both ears at the same time,"

"I, uhm—" He started, trying to prevent a grin from rising onto his face at his newfound information.

You watched him curiously, starting to wonder if his cheeks were turning pink due to how cold it was or if he was possibly blushing.

Spencer reached into his pocket and took out a small chained bracelet. It was small and dainty— nothing too flashy or flamboyant. He held his slightly trembling hand out to you, revealing the small, nearly minuscule butterfly charm that sat on center of it. You stared at it in awe, reaching over and grasping it.

As you stared at it, you recalled the first conversation you had with Spencer. It was nearly spring and you were on one of your first cases with the team. As you inspected one of the crime scenes, a butterfly had suddenly latched onto your wrist.

You looked at the small insect, briefly startled, but once realizing the absence of danger, you quickly allowed yourself to gaze upon the bug with curiosity and awe.

Spencer watched you intently. He knew close to nothing about you, but something inside him twisted with your tender gaze towards something so small and fragile. He couldn’t stop himself from opening his mouth and beginning one of his endless rants on that specific species of butterfly and how butterflies were a symbolism of good luck and, oh so on.

He couldn't stop talking and that was the first impression you had gotten from Spencer. He was profusely embarrassed afterwards, realizing he had probably overstepped a boundary you had yet to set given since— he really didn't know you all that much.

However, you smiled at him and asked him to tell you more. Since that day, butterflies had become your favorite.

And since that day, Spencer felt his heart double in size any time you were near him.

"Spence," You looked back up at him. "This is beautiful."

He smiled awkwardly, and shuffled on his heels, feeling his pulse quicken. How fast can one’s pulse beat? "I didn't want you thinking I had forgotten about a gift I just, didn't really know when to give it to you and I though—"

You watched his every movement intently, noticing the small pool of fog leave his mouth with each breath due to the cold, not even trying to avoid lingering your gaze on his lips.

"No! No—" You waved your hands in front of him frantically, panicking at the thought of him feeling in any way obligated to get you stuff, even if it was your birthday. It felt too indulgent from him— especially from him.

“It's okay..! You didn't have to get me anything, much less something so special,"

"I—" Spencer looked to the side. With the simple confirmation of your little hair tuck, he decided to push his luck, relying completely on Garcia’s analysis. "I wanted to."

You felt heat all over your face. You grabbed the small chain and easily slipped it onto your wrist, looking at it in awe. You once again, unconsciously tucked your hair behind both of your ears. Spencer noticed this but this time, he allowed himself to smile widely like kid on christmas morning.

You smiled down at it. Spencer watched you, eyes pooling with affection. You looked back up at him, realizing the way his gazed lingered on you. There was some form of affection that was quite evident, but you couldn’t allow yourself to think anything of it. Nothing was said, and that made you incredibly nervous.

He opened his mouth, wanting to say something but not being able to. The mix of the piercing cold and the invasive anxiety wasn’t doing him any good as his shoulders shook lightly. You took notice, and it made sense since he had chased you down in nothing but a blue button up shirt. Without a single word, you reached for your scarf and unwrapped it from your neck. You’d do okay with the cold. You had enough layers— and you were blushing enough to heat your whole body up.

You pushed yourself onto the tip of your toes, wrapping it around Spencer's neck in order to give him some sort of warmth. Spencer immediately grew dizzy, failing to ignore how the scarf smelled just like you always did— a burnt vanilla mixed with the sweetest notes of sugared petals, warm and inviting. He also failed to ignore how close you suddenly were.

Something in you flipped and with a slap of encouragement, you once again pushed yourself onto your toes and planted a tender kiss onto his cheek, staining it ever so slightly with the soft red chapstick you were wearing.

"Blue looks good on you," You said, hands still playing with the blue scarf that sat comfortably around his neck. You wish you could’ve taken a picture of his face, starstruck and dizzy.

You caught the small red stain on his cheek. You smiled, reaching up and smudging your thumb across the stain. "So does red."

Spencer had nearly felt his knees buck. Your sudden bold moves were causing him to spin. It had always been so hard trying to decipher your intentions and antics, but with you standing so close to him, for the first time, he found everything so clear and evident. Like the last layer of secrecy had been ripped off in the matter of seconds and he was entranced.

That could be part of the reason as to why Spencer couldn’t stop himself from leaning down and placing a firm kiss onto your lips.

You froze momentarily, completely caught off guard, especially since you had always thought what you felt for Spencer was one-sided. But soon enough, you eased and smiled into the kiss. It was sweet and soft, innocent and pure, and it was perfect.

He pulled away harshly, suddenly realizing what he had done. "I’m—"

“No!—“ You were surprised at the lack of stability in your voice. “T-that was fine,”

Oh if one could kick themselves. Fine?!

He cleared his throat, words caught deep into his throat. You blushed profusely, wanting to slap yourself back into reality as you grew more and more fidgety and nervous.

"I—" You both said simultaneously. This was embarrassing.

You shot him a nervous smile as you both proceeded to stumble upon each-others words, neither being able to form a coherent sentance.

"Are— Are you doing anything tomorrow..?" Spencer asked, anxiety clawing at him relentlessly.

"No," You felt anticipation in your chest as you shuffled your grip on your purses strap.

"Would you want to?—” He asked, voice small, as if testing the waters and terrified to how you would reply. “You know, do something..?”

A giddy smile grew onto your face, as your hands reached up, and for a third time, tucked hair behind both ears.

"I’d love to," You said. Spencer felt like he was on cloud nine.

"Great! Uh—" He glanced down, pursing his lips. "Cool..”

You stifled a laugh, as he peered over at you with a smile. "I'll text you,"

"Cool.." You pointed over to your car, realizing that it was getting late. "I'm going to, uh—"

A grin that stretched from ear to ear was plastered across Spencer face as you began walking away, also smiling to yourself giddily. Once your back was turned to him, you squeezed your eyes shut, nearly jumping with joy.

"Happy birthday..!" He shot out. You turned, offering him a wave. Spencer watched until you climbed into your car and left the driveway, with the widest, most stupidly huge smile plastered all over his face.

Of course, when he reappeared at his desk, wrapped in your scarf, cheek stained slightly, and the most dazed look splattered all across his features, Morgan didn't skip the opportunity to tease the hell out of him— again.

[pomefioredove]

Hi! I love your writing style, especially how you portrait Rook, it's just how I imagine him💜

Could I request for Rook, Vil, Floyd and Azul reacting to reader calling them "love" or something affectionate for the first time? Maybe with reader realising and imploding on the inside?

Of course no pressure, I eat anything you write anyway!

-🔥

GUYS THESE PROMPTS. and thank you so much <3 I like thinking I do a good job 😭

summary: accidentally calling them "love" type of post: headcanons characters: floyd, azul, rook, vil additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not specified to be yuu, fluff!

𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐲𝐝 𝐋𝐞𝐞𝐜𝐡

it's a quick slip of the tongue, one he might not have even noticed if he was distracted by anything else

unfortunately, today it's you that's caught his attention, and so he hears and processes every honeyed word with startling accuracy

"Could you pass me that pencil, love?"

wait. that's not what you'd said in your mind

the embarrassment is immediate, and you would have apologized if not for the big grin on his face

he goes on to brag about it to everyone for the rest of the day

...or week

however long it takes for that fuzzy feeling to wear off him

of course, at that point, he'll find you and pester you until you say it again for him

you never did get that pencil.

𝐀𝐳𝐮𝐥 𝐀𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐨

perhaps your unfortunate habit of verbalizing your subconscious thoughts has finally come around to punish you

you're in Azul's office at the lounge, and he's explaining something about budgeting

you don't... quite understand, but he seems pretty pleased with himself, so you're happy for him

"I'm so proud of you, love,"

congratulations, you broke him

he forgets everything he said and everything he was about to say

and he just stares

his face burns a bright shade of red, and for a moment he looks around the room as if he's searching for somewhere to hide

you feel bad right away, and make an attempt to explain and apologize, though your own embarrassment makes everything you say unintelligible and even more embarrassing

after a moment of watching you stammer he just shushes you

"I appreciate the compliment. Just give me a warning next time... there will be a next time, won't there?"

𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐭

intentional or not, he's been waiting for this moment

it's late, you're tired; Rook had been dragging you around campus all day, showing you his favorite "people-watching" spots

by the time he walks you back to Ramshackle, you're happy, but completely drained

(being around Rook tends to do that)

you're too sleepy to even realize the words coming out of your mouth until it's too late

"Thank you again. Good night, love,"

his reaction is immediate

he launches into a very long soliloquy about his feelings towards you, what a wonderful day it was, and how he treasures your relationship no matter how you define it

already has some petnames of his own for you ready to go

amour, chou chou, chéri, miel, cœur...

prepare to never hear the end of this

𝐕𝐢𝐥 𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐭

Vil is actually quite used to being called all sorts of lovely things

...albeit, mostly by his fans

and if it were anyone else calling him their love, he wouldn't have even noticed

but hearing it in your voice immediately catches his attention

the sentence is so simple, of course you would've missed it. he'd simply been giving you some advice, and...

"Okay. Thank you, love,"

he would have teased you for it (lovingly, of course) if not for the fact that it made him feel flustered

him. flustered!

he stares at you until you realize what exactly you'd just said to him, and then, understandably, you freak out

trying to backtrack won't help, neither does trying to explain, or apologizing

after a moment of letting you struggle, Vil just laughs

"My, my. Don't worry yourself, I take it as a compliment. But we'll have to work on your confidence some more, won't we?"

[deardev0teddelicate]

the moon and the stars |

jmxf!reader

Pairing: jackson!joel miller x f!reader

To you he hung the moon and the stars, to him you were the moon and the stars.

WC: 2.7k

Warnings: blog & my work is MDNI, established relationship, hurt/comfort (?), fluff, sweetheart!joel, no use of y/n, descriptions of pain/headaches/nausea, my emetophobic friends may want to skip this one, established relationship, mention of Ellie/Dina/Tommy/Benjamin/Maria, mention of animal death (rabbit [for food]), pixel joel or hbo joel can be imagined for this

Author's Note: this had been sitting in my drafts for a while now, but i wanted to post something because i'm freaking done with finals (yay!), got a new job (yay!), but unfortunately have been suffering from consistent cluster headaches (not yay),,, so please please please enjoy this self indulgent fic for my headache/tummy ache girlies out there.

i love y'all sm, reach out if you ever want to connect with me,, i'm terrible at reaching out so i'm so sorry but i try i really do <3

You had felt it building up behind your eyes for hours. Your skull was a pressure cooker, as though your bones were pressing in on your brain. The temperature in the house seemed to be steadily rising, causing sweat to bead at the nape of your neck, just under your hairline—despite the shivers that slithered down your spine every minute or so. To say you felt awful would be an understatement.

Joel had the day off from patrol. After he had gone hunting—bringing home a fairly large rabbit—and taken care of a few things around the house, like finally fixing the leaky faucet in the bathroom and replacing the light bulbs in the dining and living areas, he made his way to his workshop to carve the little wooden figures he liked to give to Benjamin. You had your own chores to finish, and although you felt unwell, you didn't want to burden him with even more work. If you had told Joel that you weren't feeling well, he would have made you lie down and taken over your chores without hesitation. He liked taking care of you, but you couldn't help but feel guilty about all the things he did for you without question.

Pushing through the pounding in your head and the fatigue in your muscles, you, effortfully, dusted the windows, swept and mopped the floors, and stripped the bed sheets to be washed. By early afternoon, the sheets needed to be clipped to the clothesline strung between the trees in the yard, and your head felt like it was going to implode. To make matters worse, your stomach was now twisting and turning on itself, threatening to bring back up the contents of your breakfast. Every sight, smell, and touch—everything—was excruciatingly unbearable. It was all getting to be too much for you.

As you stepped back into the house, you made a beeline for the bed room, tears stinging your eyes. Breathing grew more difficult as you paced the length of the room you shared with Joel—door to dresser, back to the door, over and over and over again. Somehow, you found yourself in the darkness of your closet, curling into the far corner and resting your head on the floor. It was a soft comfort, to be hidden and enclosed.

Lying there, arms over your head and knees tucked into your chest, you didn't even notice as you drifted off to a space between the real world and a dreamlike state.

Joel sat hunched over his workbench, eyes beginning to ache behind his glasses from the prolonged, intense focus he had lost himself in. When he finally looked up, the sun was still high above the trees, casting pale white light through the windows of the home he shared with you.

He stood, stretching his tired, creaky back, and walked out into the kitchen, glancing at the clock you'd hung on the wall—6:26. You hadn't started dinner yet. Odd, he thought. Most days, you would've at least asked him to stoke up the fire or start prepping the meat by now. Assuming you simply just lost track of time, he started the fire himself and began peeling the potatoes to to go with the rabbit meat. Humming a soft melody he had heard you singing the day before, he tossed the potatoes and trimmed rabbit meat into a cast iron pot, along with some butter, herbs, and spices.

After hanging the pot on the fire iron, he began looking for signs of you. The sheets outside swayed gently in the soft evening breeze, and he noticed the broom resting against the wall by the back door, rather than in the hallway closet where you usually put it in. Walking into your bedroom, he called your name, only to be met with silence. He peeked into the bathroom, his brow furrowing when you were nowhere in sight. Rubbing the back of his neck, he sighed and glanced back across the room toward the closet.

That's when he saw you and your socked feet poking out from behind his flannels hanging on the bottom rack.

He hadn't realized he was holding his breath until he let out a long exhale the moment he laid eyes on you. He strode over to the closet, where you were laying on your side, head buried in your arms.

"Y'alright there, darlin'?" Joel asked, sinking down beside you. You didn't look at him, mumbling something unintelligible. He tried to make sense of what you said, but ultimately gave up and said, "Can't understand you, baby."

He had found you like this before. Every few months or so, he'd discover you curled up in the closet, lights off, rubbing at your temples in a desperate attempt to ease the ache.

"I'll tell y'what," he murmured, gently moving your arm away from your eyes just enough so he could see them unobstructed, "I'll go put on some ginger tea for you, and we can eat dinner. And later, after I make the bed, I'll rub your back for you. That sound okay?"

Tears welled up in your eyes again, but this time, it wasn't from the pain. It was from the unrelenting kindness Joel offered you, day after day, week after week, never once faltering.

"With honey?" you asked, your voice trembling as your throat constricted. Another spill of guilt rushed through you. Here you were, practically incapacitated, needing Joel to take care of you, yet again, on his day off. He deserved rest, a change to turn his mind off…not to carry the weight for the both of you.

Joel just smiled at you softly, and whispered, "Of course, darlin'."

He scooped you up into his arms and carried you to the living room so he could keep an eye on you while he worked in the kitchen. Placing you on the sofa, he left to get you a warm compress—just a warmed towel, really, but it meant the world to you.

"Is Ellie coming for dinner?" You asked weakly, digging your fingers into the space behind the bridge of your nose, hoping for just an ounce of relief. Ellie had been going to Dina's for dinner most nights lately, despite you and Joel extending consistent invitations. Earlier in the day, you had hoped she might've changed her mind, but as much as you loved her, you just wanted to eat, sit, and sleep in silence—something Ellie wasn't the best at.

"No, she's at Dina's again. You want me to call her over?"

"It's okay, don't worry about it. Maybe next week we invite the both of them over."

"If that's what you want, darlin'. I can take off patrol and make us somethin'. Wanna ask Tommy and his crew too?"

The thought of little Benji coming over to the house brought a smile to your face. "Yeah, invite them too. It'll be a Miller family dinner."

But as soon as the words left your mouth, another wave of pain surged, settling sharply behind your left brow. You grimaced, eyes squeezing shut, muscles tightening and seizing up. Joel looked up from the kitchen toward you, then quickly turned back to pour a spoonful of honey into the steaming mug of tea he had made.

As he carried the mug over to where you lied on the soft leather sofa in the living room, he couldn't help but want to savor the moment. He reveled at the thought of attending to you. He loved getting opportunities to take care of you, especially outside of patrol. It made him feel as though he had a sense of purpose. It was almost tangible, real. Something he could gauge in real time through the smile lines on your face and the sparkle in your eyes.

He moved through the steps of plating dinner and eating with you in a comfortable, loving silence. You always preferred the quiet when you felt this way, and if there was one thing that Joel was damn sure he knew he could do for you, it was that. When your meal together was over, he rose to clean up the dishes and to get you another cup of tea.

You had found it to be a struggle to eat more than just a few bites of the meal he prepared—not because it wasn't good; it was delicious. But your body seemed determined to reject anything of real substance at the moment.

Still, you quietly thanked him and tried your bed to keep down what you could of the food he had so lovingly made for the two of you. As Joel cleaned up the dishes, he tried to make as little noise as possible. But the hiss of the water against the pots, and the scrape of the brush against the plates, and the clattering of the silverware against the sink basin made your temples throb and your vision blur.

You made your way toward the bedroom, fingers trailing along the walls of the hallway to steady yourself. Joel was still tidying up, granted much faster now that he caught your migration out of the corner of his eye. If only the black dots in your line of sight would go away, if the nausea that was bubbling up in your stomach like an overheated pot of water would subside, then maybe you'd be able to actually want to lay down and catch some sleep. But all you wanted to do was to pace the length of your room again, willing the pain to go away, to dissipate into thin air.

You paced, breathing in for four counts, holding for four and breathing out for another four. You counted each beat in your head; 1, 2, 3, 4…1, 2, 3, 4…1, 2, 3, 4... Over and over, you repeated to yourself, pacing in the dark. Your stomach clenched, and a wave of discomfort clambered up your esophagus, burning your throat. With little time to think, you bolted for the bathroom, slammed the door behind you, and threw yourself over the rim of the toilet, heaving up your dinner—the dinner that Joel made for you.

Tears stung at your eyes as your body trembled, the cool air against your overheated skin sending a shock through you. It had been a while since one of your headaches had gotten so bad that you became physically ill. But even so, you were grateful. Grateful that you weren't alone when it was happening like usual, and that Joel was home to make sure you were alright.

Everything seemed to feel a little bit lighter with him in the picture.

When you had gotten up earlier, Joel glanced over at you as you made your way to the bedroom, then turned his focus back to the task at hand. He dried each dish with the same care and attention you always put into the very same chores yourself. But the moment he heard the bathroom door slam shut, he gently set the last cup down on the counter before making his own way to the bedroom.

His brow furrowed at the closed bathroom door—no light peaking put from underneath it, only the sound was your soft sniffles and strained, frantic breaths.

Joel knocked on the door gently before letting himself in with a quiet, "Darlin'?" In the dark, he saw your head resting on your arm, your body shuddering with every breath. You turned your head slightly, pressing your ear against your upper arm now. His heart ached, and his features softened at the sight of your pained tears streaming down your face.

Joel took pride in protecting you, in keeping you safe and secure. So when your headaches attacked you with all the stops, he did everything he could to take your hurt away, anything to ease the pain. He couldn't help but feel the little bit of guilt that would eat away at his gut when he couldn't immediately relieve you of your pain.

"It hurts," you simply said in a weakened voice. "I just want it to go away."

"I know, I know," he murmured, kneeling beside you, rubbing your back gently. Every now and then, he tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear or out of your face. "You're strong, though. You're my strong girl, right? You'll kick this before you know it."

A tear slipped down and over the bridge of your nose as another wave of pressure crashed against your skull.

"Joel, could you—" You winced, eyes squeezing shut. "Could you get me some water? Please?"

"Of course, darlin'," he said, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips as you finally asked him for something. "Y'wanna stay in here or move to the bed?"

"I think I want to go to the bed?"Your voiced wavered making it more of a question than a statement, but Joel didn't mind.

"Okay. Why don't you stay here while I go make it up for us?" He pressed a kiss to your temple before standing up and leaving to grab the sheets and bedding from the clothesline.

Continuing to breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth, you listened to the sound of his heavy boots pacing the wooden floors. He moved from corner to corner of the bed fixing it up the way he knew you liked it: fitted sheet, loose sheet, blankets and pillows.

A few moments later, he led you back to the room and helped you change into an old t-shirt of his, your normal sleepwear. After tucking you in beneath the covers, he left and returned shortly with a glass of water in one hand and a damp hand towel in the other.

You sighed at the sight of him. He looked so handsome and domesticated in that moment that, if you didn't feel like straight garbage, you would lure him into bed and kiss him, touch him. You would show him your gratitude through gentle hands and soft, low sounds. But his eyes shone with love when he looked at you looking at him. To you he hung the moon and the stars, to him you were the moon and the stars.

He sat down on the bed beside you, placing the cloth on your forehead and easing you upright just enough so you could drink the water without choking on it. You took a few gulps of water and he smiled, chuckling at you.

"Easy there, darlin', easy."

You laid yourself back down on the bed, resting your head on your folded pillow, reaching for him to follow suit. He obliged, slipping under the covers next to you and propping himself against the headboard. A faint smile graced his lips as you inched your way closer and closer to him, to the point where you were practically laying on his lap, your cheek moving from your pillow to his thigh.

He brought his heavy hand to rest on your shoulder, rubbing into the muscle of your upper back working out the tension. You let out a deep sigh, groaning at the relief he gave you, the pressure behind your eye shifting itself to the back of your head. You inhaled, feeling as though you could breathe for the first time in what fel like hours.

"Thank you," you whispered, sleep lacing your words and weighing down your eyelashes.

"Don't gotta thank me, just doin' m'job," he continued to press his skilled, calloused hands into your back, following the curvature of your spine. "Tell me next time, 'kay? When you get like this? I don't like findin' you on the floor of the closet. I'd rather take care of you from the start."

"It's comfy, though. I like it in there."

"Y'know, you're the strangest person I've ever met," he chuckled, his hands stilling to rest warmly on you. "Just tell me next time, so I'll know where to find you and where to bring you water."

"Yessir," you attempted to joke, though it came out as little more than a whisper.

"Attagirl," he smirked, resting his head back on the headboard, eyes drifting shut as his thumb traced soft, slow circles across your warm skin.