#trying to get out of the habit of apologizing for this. I'm not sorry for being proud of my work

[teethmongerrr]

Helloooo!!! The ask about tenna's history with the dreemurrs made me realize: what's mettatons whole deal and/or backstory? Like we don't have the ghost or the robot body stuff with him, so how does he meet alphys? Are we keeping the whole dysphoria and 'not having the right body'? (beams him with my transgender ray.) What's his relationship with his family like? sorry if this is unorganized, didn't really know how to word this one, keep up the amazing work!!!! I'm loving everything about this au!! :3

No apologies required this is good..

AND OF COURSE HES TRANSGENDER‼️‼️‼️

I would never take his transmasculine swag from him that’s sacrilege… important…

BUT ANYWAY LOL. He had agoraphobia inducing levels of dysphoria pre-transition ( though , I don’t think that level of dysphoria just goes away completely post transition. He’s way better now but it still bites him sometimes) but I think he’d go out every once and a while (accompanied by Napstablook typically)

I Like to imagine him and Alphys had a sort of a platonic meet-cute in a video rental store. Like going for the same movie when there’s only one left or something tee hee. And they end up watching it together at Mettaton’s and forming a pseudo human fan club (more of a film/show Fanclub. They watch movies and tv together idk LOL)

I struggle making an equivalent to her LITTERALLY designing and making his body… but the idea that she just drew him as an anime boy once or something and then he had a moment like… wait… what if I did that…. And she tells him it’s possible. Like…. What if her support alone builds him the same way. Guys. Is this thing on. Guys. Gripping the mic. Guys.

As for his relationship with his family, I can only really. Imagine him living with his cousins.. and I think the three of them had been living together for a while. (I don’t know where the parents are it’s one of those things I’ll have to think about) but I think that Napstablook is a bit older and was Mettaton and Mew Mew’s legal guardian for most of their tweenage - early adulthood years.

And Napstablook does their best obviously but being a sensitive pushover (no offense) and pretty young to be taking care of the two of them adds some struggle.

I think Mettaton, very opposite to how he lives his life now, spent a lot of his childhood trying his best to be easy to manage. forgettable.

There was a big strain in his relationship with his family that was nobody’s fault in particular. Suffocating himself out of pure habit, on a long term corked spiral until he met Alphys and he knew he had to change or die. The massively built fear of the feelings of it all making him feel like the only option was to vanish and come back someone else.

Currently he has come back that new person and told them everything and apologized. Mew mew still gets bitter but over all forgives him and Napstablook is very understanding and is more so sad that they couldn’t figure out how to reach out to him before he left.

YA! Hope this answers your question….

[forest-hashira]

this absolutely would not leave me alone, in reference to this post. @fushigurro thank u for supporting/enabling me. divider by cafekitsune. this is omegaverse, mentions of heat cycles/sex but nothing explicit. minors dni.

it had been a few days since your synced heat with satoru had ended, and though it hadn't actually lasted longer than normal, it had felt like it, neither of you able to get the kind of relief you really needed. you'd given yourselves a day to sober up and recover, and then you'd had a much dreaded conversation.

you'd been everything to each other since you'd gotten together straight out of school. in all that time, you'd never needed anyone else for anything, even able to get each other through your heats with a little help from some toys. but this had been a brutal wake up call, a reminder that there were some things you'd never be able to do for each other, no matter how hard you tried.

it was unsettling to realize, though, and the following realization that you would have to find someone else to trust in your most vulnerable moments was downright scary. a new partner couldn't be just anyone, especially not if they were going to help both of you when you needed it. in fact, there was only one person either of you could imagine trusting with that.

and so you set up a coffee date.

"you feelin' okay, baby?" satoru's gentle voice pulled you from your mental spiral, and you offered him a weak smile.

"what makes you ask?" you set your drink down on the table, unable to stomach anything because of your anxiety.

"your leg has been bouncing nonstop since we sat down." he peered at you over the tops of his sunglasses, leaning in to rest his forehead against your temple. "it's all gonna be fine, you know that, right?"

"unless he hates us for asking this of him and decides he never wants to speak to us again." you weren't expecting the laugh your words drew from him, and you pinched his side harshly. "don't laugh at me! it's not impossible..."

you could practically feel him roll his eyes at you. "he's not gonna hate us," he soothed, the faintest hint of a purr rumbling beneath his words, easing some of the tension in your shoulders. "i doubt he'll say no, either. he's had a thing for you for years."

"he has not!" you turned and looked up at him, wide-eyed.

satoru cocked his head slightly, seeming genuinely surprised. "he has too! he told me once when we were drunk, before we all graduated and you and i got together. you didn't know?"

"of course i didn't know! he never said anything to me. i knew he was in love with you, though."

it was satoru's turn to look shocked. "you're lying to me."

"i am not! we all saw the way he looked at you. it was obvious."

your boyfriend seemed to pale at your words, as impossible as it was. "for how long?"

"from the very first day i met you guys. he still looks at you like that, y'know."

"who looks at satoru like what?"

suguru's voice startled both of you, and you looked up at him with burning faces. the alpha's brows pinched with concern as he sat across the table from the two of you. satoru pushed a black coffee towards him, but it went untouched as he spoke again.

"are you guys okay? you said you needed to ask me something important. is something wrong?"

you and satoru exchanged a look, your omega offering you an encouraging nod.

"sort of," you sighed after a moment. "we, uh. well. our heats synced last week, and it sucked. like it was really bad."

suguru nodded, worry still painted across his features. "even with each other and..." he trailed off, glancing around as if remembering you were in a public place, and that it was probably not a great idea to talk openly about sex toys.

"yeah, even with that," you confirmed. "it was really, really miserable, and we really don't want to be caught off guard if our cycles ever sync like that again. which is why we asked you here."

now he really looked confused. "i don't think i understand."

"we need an alpha," satoru replied, his blunt nature a true blessing in that moment. "and you're the only one we trust to help us – to take care of us."

there was a beat of silence, then another. your heart began to pound, and you felt a bit sick all of a sudden. because this was it, wasn't it? your best friend outside of your partner was about to tell you both that you were disgusting simply for asking, and that he never wanted to hear from you ever again. he was—

"oh, uh... really?" there was no mistaking the flustered look on your friend's face, and that surprised you; he was usually so confident. "yeah, of course. i'm honored you trust me like that. anything you need, just let me know. i'll be there for you."

the relief that washed over you was so intense it nearly made you dizzy, and you were certain you would've collapsed if you weren't already sitting down. "you don't wanna take some time to think about it?"

he shook his head. "don't need to. if it means helping you guys, the answer's always going to be yes."

"whipped for us already, huh?" satoru teased, attempting to maintain his composure despite his face being the prettiest shade of pink.

the smile that tugged at suguru's lips was affectionate, his gaze warm as he took in the two of you across from him. "yeah," he agreed softly. "something like that."

[luna-azzurra]

Ways I Show a Character Who's So Used to Being Betrayed, They Expect It From Everyone

Trust issues aren't always loud. Sometimes they show up in quiet, brutal little habits that scream, "I don't believe anyone actually has my back." It’s not drama. It’s survival.

They assume every compliment has a hidden insult stapled to it. You say "You're amazing," and they hear "for now" echoing in the silence afterward.

They never believe good news at face value. Promotion at work? Must be a setup. Someone loves them? They're just saying that to get something. They treat joy like a suspicious email from a Nigerian prince.

They constantly have backup plans. Backup friends. Backup escape routes. Backup excuses. You think they're chill on that coffee date, but mentally, they've already figured out how to bolt if things go south.

They apologize before anything even happens. "Sorry if this is annoying!" "Sorry if I'm being weird!" "Sorry if existing is a burden!" They’re trying to soften the blow they’re sure is coming.

They test people—subtly. Saying something half-vulnerable just to see if you’ll use it against them. Canceling plans last minute to see if you’ll still call. They don’t even know they're doing it half the time.

They make self-deprecating jokes before you can. If they call themselves trash first, it won't sting as bad when you inevitably agree. (Their logic, not reality.)

They hesitate before trusting anyone with even small things. You ask "Hey, want me to grab you a coffee?" and they look at you like you just offered them a cursed artifact.

They act like they don't need anyone. Rugged Individualist vibes. But it’s a costume. Underneath, they’re just someone who got tired of needing people who didn’t stick around.

They overthink every interaction. You took too long to reply? You hate them. Your text was shorter than usual? You’re planning your exit strategy. Trust is a game of walking on knives blindfolded.

They expect betrayal so hard that when it doesn't happen, they almost don't know how to exist. Happiness? Stability? Kindness? It feels fake. They're waiting for the other shoe to drop—except it's not a shoe. It's a whole goddamn meteor.

[yxngbxkkie]

just a fight (b.c)

hello!! it's been an extremely long time since i've posted any fics on here (or written them)! but i finally got the inspiration to write one for our lovely chris 🤭 i saw a tik tok from the new album intro and came up with this idea. i hope you all like it 🥰

feedback is greatly appreciated 🥰

It's about the fourth time in an hour that Chris has checked his phone, the frown on his lips staying there as there's still no texts from you. He releases a sigh before attempting to refocus on the task at hand; recording.

The two of you have been in an argument for the past two days. Longest time the two of you have spent angry at one another. You didn't argue often, so Chris is becoming a bit panicked when you don't text him on the third day.

“Hyung,” Changbin's voice snaps Chris from his thoughts, turning in his chair to face the younger member. “Is everything okay? I've never seen you this spaced out.”

Chris provides a fake smile, going to reassure him that everything is okay when his phone vibrates. He picks it up immediately, his heart dropping a bit when it's not you. He swipes away the notification without any thought, not really in the mood to converse with anyone.

“I'm okay, I guess,” he mumbles, setting his phone back on the desk. “Uhm, Y/N and I had an argument three days ago and…” Chris trails off, biting his lip to stop himself from crying.

“Have you tried calling?” Changbin asks, motioning for the other staff to give them a minute alone.

Chris blankly stares at the computer screen, moving the mouse around idly. “I get sent to voicemail,” he tells Changbin, not moving his gaze once.

“I'll try calling. This can't go on any longer. You can't work like this,” Changbin sighs, standing up from the couch. The younger member pulls his phone out of his pocket, finding your contact before calling your number.

Chris can hear the phone ringing, his heart beginning to beat a million miles a minute in his chest.

“Bin?” Your voice comes through the receiver, causing Chris to gasp lightly. He finally looks over towards Changbin, seeing him hold his phone out.

Take the phone. He motions, holding the device out to him. Chris hesitantly takes the phone as you continue to call out for Changbin.

“Y/N?” Chris calls out your name just after Changbin leaves the studio. He can hear your breath hitch at the sound of his voice, and he begins to think you might hang up. “B-Before you hang up… can we talk? Please?”

Silence fills the space as he waits for your reply. He swallows the lump in his throat, wondering if he's fucked up one of the good things in his hectic life.

“I'm really sorry, y'know? I've always had the habit of keeping shit to myself. You can ask the guys,” he starts to apologize, staring at your contact name. “I was doing really well on keeping you in tabs of everything, but these past few weeks have been pretty stressful. And, I know that's not a great excuse, but being cooped up in the studio hours on end has brought me back to my old ways. I should've told you what's been going on, but I promise, if you don't leave me that I'll change. I don't want to lose you.”

His heart is in his throat as he waits for you to say something, anything. When he hears you start to cry, his first instinct is for him to run to your apartment. “Baby–”

“How are you so perfect?” You whisper loud enough for him to hear. You sniffle and clear your throat before speaking again. “I should be so mad at you, Chris. But, you– you make it impossible to stay mad.”

“I'm sorry?” He mumbles, furrowing his brows in confusion.

A chuckle comes from your end, and his heart skips a beat. “It's okay. Uhm, are you busy? Is it okay if I come to you, or,” You offer to meet up, making Chris's heart race.

“Y-Yeah, no, yeah, you can come by. I'll let the front desk know. Text me when you get here?” He asks, a smile coming to his lips for the first time in three days.

“Of course, handsome. I'll see you soon, okay?” You reassure him.

~

You're nervous as you walk into the JYP building. You know everything's going to turn out okay, but for some reason, the nausea is still there. The receptionist clears you through, and you step into the elevator. After pressing the button for the floor Chris is on, you decided to take some deep breaths.

Your phone vibrates in your hand, seeing a single heart emoji text from Chris. Your heart flutters in your chest, beginning to believe that everything will be alright. The door to the elevator opens up, and you step out, walking in the familiar direction of the studio they're using.

When you round the corner to go down the slim hallway, you find Chris standing at the studio door. You stop in place, meeting his dark eyes. The first thing you notice is the bags under his eyes. A frown comes to your lips at how exhausted he looks.

“Baby,” you mumble and start walking towards him.

“You look good,” Chris smiles at you, his eyes a little glossy. “I missed you so much.”

Both of you wrap your arms around one another, embracing tightly. You tightly grip the shirt he's wearing as he takes in the scent of your perfume.

“I missed you, too, baby,” you sigh, combing your fingers through his hair with your free hand.

Chris holds on to you as if you'll disappear once he lets go. He moves both of you into the studio before shutting the door, giving you some privacy.

You pull away from him, keeping your hands on his forearms as you look back up at him. “Everything's gonna be okay, okay?” You reassure him, gently stroking his arms.

He nods his head, clearing his throat before wrapping you up in his arms again. “I honestly thought that this was the end, y'know?” He mumbles into your neck, kissing the skin lightly.

“I'm in love with you, Chris. I don't ever want this to end,” you tell him while massaging the back of his head.

His hands slip under the hoodie you're wearing, a breathy sigh leaving his lips at the feeling of your soft skin. You bring your hands to his face, making him look at you before your lips meet his.

Chris moans into the kiss, his grip on your waist tightening. “God,” he mumbles, pulling away for a quick second. He reconnects his lips to yours, putting some more passion into the kiss. “I love you.”

You can't help but giggle, resting your forehead against his. “You make me feel like I've got a high school crush, you know that?” You ask him while placing one of your hands to your chest, feeling how fast your heartbeat is.

“I feel the same about you, baby,” he grins, dimples on full display. Chris grabs a hold of your hands as silence fills the room. He intertwines your fingers, keeping his gaze on them.

“You okay, baby?” You ask him quietly, squeezing his hands. “Talk to me.”

He lifts his head, the smile still there, and he nods. “I'm okay. I'm just– really happy that you're back and that we're okay,” he releases a deep breath, bringing your hands to his lips, peppering the backs of them in kisses.

“I'm afraid you're stuck with me,” you joke with him.

“I wouldn't want it any other way, baby,” Chris pulls you close to him, capturing your lips in another kiss.

~

tagging: @strawboorybunny @reddesert-healourblues @spacegirlstuff @like-a-diamondinthesky @prettymiye0n @foxinnie8

[dcxdpdabbles]

Do you have any plans to continue https://www.tumblr.com/dcxdpdabbles/758079736394170368/dcxdp-fanfic-idea-lights-and-camera?source=share ?

It's just so good!

Tim was in the fetal position in the corner of his closet. The rest of his team was trying to coax him out with various offerings- Kon held up soda, Cassie had steaming brownies, and Bart was waving around comics- but nothing seemed to be enough to get Tim to crawl out of his hiding place.

Dick watched form the bedroom doorway, wondering if the Young Justice team were able to handle another one of Tim's meltdowns. He figured he would give them the benefit of the doubt and let them handle things until he needed to step in.

"Psh psh psh" Kon coos, croching just outside the open doorway of he closet. "Here, Timmy, Timmy, come on out, buddy. Psh psh psh"

"He's not a cat, Kon!" Cassie sighs before she lowers her voice in a sharp command while snapping her fingers. "Timothy. Come! Now, boy, come here!"

"Treating him like a dog isn't going to work either, Cassie." Bart laughs, looking far too amused to be leaning over the heavy hitters of his team.

Dick wasn't entirely sure what Tim had said to the Ghost King but whatever he said was bad enough that he had ran straight to his room and thrown himself dramatically in the closet with a wail. It's a strange habit he's had since he was young.

Once Dick witnissed Tim hide inside his closet for missing a step at WE and rolling down the stairs. Instead of being mad that he broke his leg, Tim was more horrified that the people in the lobby had watched him fall.

If Kryptonite was enough to stop Superman, Public Embarrassment was enough to stop Red Robin.

"I can never be seen by mortal eyes again!" Tim wails, hand reaching out to snatch the brownies from Cassie's hands. His following words were muffled somewhat by the treat he attempted to eat in one bite. "I told the prettiest boy to ever walk the Earth that I wanted to get him out of his pants for the right price and he thinks I called him a whore when I meant I wanted to buy his pants!"

"Just tell him, English is your second language, and you messed up the translation!" Bart offered cheerfully. "You can pretend to be Russian!"

"Or French," Conner counters, wagging his eyebrows. "You know the language of love. Let that pretty boy know what your intentions are."

"I think he let his intentions be known pretty well when he offered that money to get that boy out of his pants. How much was it again, Tim? A hundred dollars?"

The wailing increases in volume and Dick sighs deeply. He uncrosses his arms, moving away from where he was leaning on the door. Kon already knew he was there, but Bart and Cassie both sent him surprised looks when he moved to crouch down beside them.

It was always fun to scare people with the training that Bruce had carefully taught him.

He smiles at the sight of his brother, who is now lying on his side, in the fetal position. Tim was attempting to eat the brownies from the corner of his mouth, tears rolling down his face, and looking for all intents and purposes like he was having a proper meltdown.

"Hey there bu-dy" Dick sings grinning when Tim's eyes sharpen long enough to realize he's just teasing before he goes back to attempting to become one with the floor. "Bruce wants to have a debrief on how to apologize to the library boy."

"What?" Tim blinks, lifitng his head slightly to give Dick a overly hopeful expression. There are brief flashes as thoughts race through Tim's mind, reflecting in his eyes before he seems to brighten. "Bruce got me a second chance!?"

"Officially, this is to prevent a level 15 threat from destroying half the planet over a potential personal offense." Dick shrugs smiling more as Tim sits up, wiping the crumbs from his face. "Unofficially, he doesn't like his son to be heartbroken and set up a chance for you to apologize with the Level 15 threat."

"I'm sorry, what do you mean the library boy is a level 15 threat?" Kon cuts in, voice flat. "Was he not just some guy who could make really cool Fandom clothes?"

"Oh, Danny is the Ghost King, but that's beside the point,t" Dick waves his hand dismissively. "We have to go over the advice I gave you. I honestly don't understand how you butchered it that badly."

"You said to complement his interests!" Tim counters angrily. "To avoid giving compliments that involved his appearance, especially if it wasn't something he could change! I did, and all that happened was that he got upset!"

"Yeah, that's why Bruce set up an entire simulation in the cave, for you to practice with, because honestly, Tim, how could you mess up that badly with simple instructions?"

"I have to agree with Disco-man," Cassie says, disappointed. You need training before you talk to the Library boy.

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[1:11 am]

Husband!Jaemin was certain he was going to love you until his dying breath. He loved you so much that being away from you for longer than a minute, and he meant it. There was a physical ache in his chest when you were both apart, or arguing, or mad at each other.

You were actually arguing now, and he should have felt that ache, but he didn't. If this were a cartoon, his pupils would be in the shape of hearts and he'd be kicking his feet back and forth.

"Do you realize how gross it is to go to the bathroom and fall into the toilet water?!" You exclaimed, running a hand over your sleep-mussed hair.

Yeah, oops. Jaemin had an unfortunate habit of leaving the toilet seat up. He was good about remembering to lower the seat after he finished his business, but could you really blame him when it was the middle of the night? He was tired, he'd reverted to his old, single guy habits and he went right back to sleep with you in his arms.

You continued to rant, your voice raising and you recounted how you'd already tripped over one of his haphazardly thrown shoes on the way to the bathroom. You told him that you didn't even want to get out of bed until the urge became too much and how you were in the middle some of the best sleep you'd had all week and the cold water on your bare backside was a horrible wake up call. "And honestly, it would have been fine if it were the daytime, but I was sleeping so well. Now, I just feel dirty and cold," you sighed, crossing your arms across your chest.

Jaemin nodded, "you're right, honey."

"You're not going to apologize?" You ask in a calm voice.

Jaemin pouted empathetically, reaching a hand out to pull you back under the covers and press his forehead to your own, "Love, I am so sorry. I will regret this misstep until the day I die and work every day to make up for it. Can you find it in that big, beautiful heart of yours to forgive me?"

You snorted, shoving his shoulder lightly, "you're forgiven. I just need to go shower to get rid of this icky feeling. I want my spot warm when I get back."

He heard the water in the shower turn on as he fluffed up your pillows. He fell back against his own pillows with a sigh, he knew better than to leave the toilet seat up. It was a bad habit that you'd kindly spent many months reminding him to keep in mind. He just hated that it had ruined your sleep. You'd been tossing and turning, waking up early, and going to bed late all week except for tonight. He really did feel bad.

You reentered the room in a new pair of pajamas, smelling fresh and still looking sleepy. Jaemin held a hand out for you and clicked off the bedside lamp while you got comfortable against him once again.

Jaemin rubs your back slowly, his voice quiet and low "I'm so sorry I forgot about the toilet seat, honey. I know how poorly you've been sleeping."

"I'm not upset anymore Jaemin, I promise. I know you were probably really tired too, just try to remember, alright?" You ask while nuzzling against his chest "I'm sorry I raised my voice. I shouldn't have but I was feeling really upset."

Jaemin hums in acknowledgement, nothing the way your speech is slowing with fatigue, "I like when you yell at me."

You laugh in surprise, "w-what?!"

He keeps you in a calm state, continuing to lull you to sleep with the slow circular patterns against your back. He responds quietly, "well, no. I like your complaints and our mundane arguments. It reminds me that we don't have bigger problems to be fighting about. We have a good life together, we're lucky. I love the reminder that I'm not some stupid, single guy living alone now. I'm a husband, I'm your husband and this is our home. I love it."

"You’re such a sap at 1 in the morning," you whisper, your words slurred from sleep, "I love you though."

Jaemin feels his eyes getting heavy and can't fight the smile when he hears your breathing even out. You're fast asleep again and his heart soars, "I love you more, honey."

[theambitiouswoman]

Questions To Ask Yourself If You Want To Become The Best Version of Yourself

What do I really care about? What things are really important to me?

What am I good at, and where do I need help? What am I strong in, and what could I get better at?

What do I want to achieve soon and later? What things do I want to do soon, and what are my bigger, long-term goals?

Am I trying new things and not just staying comfy? Am I doing things that might be a bit scary but good for me?

How do I deal with problems and when things go wrong? What do I do when stuff doesn't work out?

Am I nice to myself when things don't go well? Do I treat myself kindly, especially when things are tough?

How do I use my time, and what's most important? How do I plan my day, and what things matter the most?

Am I learning new stuff regularly? Do I keep finding out new things?

Do I have a good balance between work and fun? Do I make sure to have enough time for work and for things I enjoy?

Do I have good friendships and avoid bad ones? Am I friends with people who make me feel good?

Do I take care of my body? Am I eating well, exercising, and sleeping enough?

Do I think about my feelings and thoughts? Do I pay attention to how I'm feeling and what I'm thinking?

How do I deal with stress and make myself calm? What do I do when I'm stressed out?

Do I help others and make the world better? Do I do things to make people's lives nicer?

Do I have good habits and get rid of bad ones? Are there things I do every day that are good for me? Are there things I should stop doing?

Do I learn from what people say about me? When people give me advice, do I listen and try to get better?

Do I say no when I need to? Do I tell people when I need space or when something isn't okay for me?

What makes me really happy? What do I like to do that makes me feel great?

Do I use money wisely? Am I good at saving and spending money in smart ways?

Do I believe I can improve and get better? When things are tough, do I think I can get through them and learn something?Am I being kind to others and making them feel good? Do I treat people nicely and make them happy?

Do I learn from things I do wrong? When I make a mistake, do I figure out how to do better next time?

Do I try new things, even if they scare me a little? Do I give things a shot, even if they seem a bit scary?

Am I spending time with people who care about me? Do I hang out with folks who like me for who I am?

Do I eat healthy foods and move my body? Am I eating good stuff and getting some exercise?

Am I sharing and helping others when I can? Do I give stuff to others and lend a hand when I'm able to?

Am I paying attention when people talk to me? Do I really listen when others are speaking to me?

Do I take breaks and do things I enjoy? Do I give myself time to rest and do things I like?

Do I say sorry and make up if I hurt someone? When I make someone feel bad, do I apologize and try to make things better?

Do I imagine good things for myself in the future? Do I think about cool stuff I want to do?

Do I stop and relax when I'm feeling stressed? When I'm worried, do I take a moment to calm down?

Do I ask for help when I need it? Do I tell someone when I can't do something on my own?

Do I try my best, even when things are tricky? Even if it's hard, do I give it my all?

Do I pick up after myself and keep things tidy? Am I good at cleaning up and keeping things in order?

Do I use my time for things that matter most? Do I do important stuff before other things?

Do I think about good things that happened today? Do I remember all the nice things that occurred?

Am I okay with making mistakes and learning from them? Do I know it's okay to mess up sometimes and learn from it?

Do I show appreciation for the people around me? Do I let others know I'm thankful for them?

Do I take deep breaths and relax when I'm upset? When I'm mad, do I breathe and try to calm down?

Do I believe I can do better and keep growing? Do I think I can get better at things and keep getting smarter?

Am I happy with who I am right now? Do I like myself just as I am?

Do I feel okay when things don't go as planned? When stuff doesn't work out, do I stay calm?

Do I think about good things about myself? Do I focus on the nice parts of me?

Do I let go of things that make me sad? When something makes me upset, can I move on from it?

Do I notice when I'm feeling worried or scared? Am I aware of when I'm feeling nervous or frightened?

Do I believe I can do things even if they're tough? Can I do hard things if I try?

Do I try to make my mind peaceful? Do I relax my thoughts when they're racing?

Do I find things that make me feel relaxed? What can I do to feel calm and at ease?

Am I patient when things take time? Can I wait without getting upset?

Do I talk kindly to myself in my head? Do I say nice things to myself in my mind?

Am I curious about things and want to learn? Do I like to find out new stuff?

Do I think about good times and happy memories? Do I remember fun things that happened before?

Do I try to understand how others feel? Can I tell what others are feeling?

Do I imagine nice things happening in the future? Can I think about good stuff that might come?

Do I take time to rest and be by myself? Do I give myself breaks and quiet time?

Do I let go of things I can't change? Can I forget about things I can't do anything about?

Do I believe I can do things even if I don't know how yet? Do I think I can learn new things?

Do I tell myself I'm doing a good job? Do I give myself a pat on the back?

Do I stay calm even if things are really busy? Can I be relaxed even when things are crazy?

Do I know that I can make mistakes and it's okay? Do I understand that everyone messes up sometimes?

[devotedlyandrogynousyouth]

genuinely tweaking over your OlderBF! Bruce headcannons omg. do you have any more Older BF! Bruce thoughts to spare? (I adore you and your writing <3)

I alwaysss have more Bruce thoughts to spare. I think this man takes over my mind more than my boyfriend does (not complaining :) )

OlderBF! Bruce Wayne (Part 2)

Sensitive content: Brief mention of kidnapping and stalking

OlderBF! Bruce Wayne who is so utterly devoted to you. This man is at your side and obeying your every will as often as he can. You saw a pretty dress you wanted in a shop window? It's laying on the foot of your shared bed when you come home. You need attention after an argument? He's cancelling his work meetings, if he can, to spend a bit of time with you.

OlderBF! Bruce Wayne who underestimates just how loud and angry he can get. There is never a moment where he isn't stressed, even when he's with you. And, as much as he tries to hold back, he loses his temper so easily with you.

"Im just saying, Im concerned, alright-?" You start, arms crossed over your chest as you take a seat on the edge of your lavish shared bed.

"What, that Im cheating?" He snaps back almost immediately, head whipping around to face you as he stops pacing. In all honesty, he regrets it as soon as he sees the look in your eyes, but he's far to stubborn to ever admit that.

"Bruce, you know that's not what I mean." You respond softly, choosing not to further escalate the situation by simply laying back on the bed and picking up your book from the nightstand. "You come home every night covered in bruises and disappear out of nowhere, so forgive your girlfriend for worrying about you."

OlderBF! Bruce Wayne who would rather you think that he's cheating on you than spilling his guts about being Batman. It absolutely kills him inside every single time you get misty eyed askinf if he's cheating, but he knows better than to risk your safety with the burden of knowledge.

OlderBF! Bruce Wayne who, god forbid, if you were ever to get kidnapped due to his line of work would push you away for good. All of your stuff would be packed away before you could even calm down for the situation. He wouldn't give you a proper goodbye, either. It would be too risky for him to ever be near you again.

OlderBF! Bruce Wayne who would absolutely develop a nasty habit of stalking you after a separation like that. He tells himself that it's to ensure your safety when he watches you walked into your favorite coffee shop every morning, but he's having a hard time convincing himself.

OlderBF! Bruce Wayne who knows just how unloveable he makes himself. Every woman he has ever been with has either been put in danger because of him or left. He doesn't think he could go through something like that with you, so he instinctively pushes you away like he always has with everybody else.

OlderBF! Bruce Wayne who, despite what he told himself about keeping his distance, finds himself knocking on your apartment door late at night. In his hands are a bottle of wine, your favorite flowers, and gold sheet-covered chocolates.

"Im sorry." His eyes are filled with utter guilt as he glances at your exhausted features. Bruce didnt even give you a chance to process that it was him at the door before he started throwing out apologies.

And the most you can really do for a moment is just look at him, your eyes not entirely focused as you stare out into space a little. "Thought you told me to stay away." You mutter softly, trying to blink the physical and mental exhaustion away.

"I..." How could he even deny that? He did, in fact, tell you to stay as far away as possible for your own safety. "I know." He continues after a moment or two. "But I'm selfish... I can't stay away. I... I want to explain a few things to you, if you'd consider letting me in.

Of course, you caved.

OlderBF! Bruce Wayne who can't bring himself to look you in the eyes as he explains himself and his nightly activities as Batman. He feels so guilty about ever putting you in danger in the first place, but he can't bring himself to stay away like he eventually learned to with Selina.

"I was scared." His quiet, honest response when you ask why he never chose to tell you about his double life. You want to be mad, you really do, but his fingers in your hair as he holds you against his chest after a few glasses of wine was just too good to resist.

"And you think I wasn't?" You ask softly, craning your neck to look up at him a lottle better. "I could handle the thought of you with other girls, Bruce..." You whisper, leaning your head back onto his shoulder. "But you have no idea how worried sick I was seeing those bruises every night. You have absolutely no idea how worried I was that they had gotten to you, too, when they took me."

OlderBF! Bruce Wayne who lets himself get a little tipsy that night with you, which is rare because he always finds excuses not to drink to stay in peak physical condition for his duties. Neither of you drank enough to be intoxicated, but just enough for everything to feel warm and fuzzy. And enough for you to forgive him.

"So sorry, gorgeous..." He mutters between slow, lingering kisses. Despite seeming so brooding and tough, his lips are absolutely divine and you missed them more than you'd ever admit.

OlderBF! Bruce Wayne who ends up getting a little frisky when he's drinking. His hands are almost everywhere, no matter where you are. You were honestly thanking god that it was just the two of you relaxing in your apartment. Hell, he practically had you seeing god with how well he fucked.

"I love you so much..." His eyes are closed as his hips slowly slot into yours yet again, face buried into your shoulder. Normally, you'd be begging for a bit of a quicker and brutal pace, but everything was just too sweet to want anything else. The prolonged sliding of his cock into your weeping hole allowed for you to feel absolutely everything, including his utter adoration and love for you.

OlderBF! Bruce Wayne who tries to keep you away from the paparazzi as much as possible after the kidnapping. Sure, he hated the prying eyes of tabloids trying to disect your relationship before, but he was just so much more paranoid and anxious afterwards. He barely lets you out of Wayne Manor without him or somebody else in the family.

OlderBF! Bruce Wayne who still struggles to communicate with you, even after he's told the truth about his vigilantism. He often finds himseld lying to you without even noticing it, even about the little things like how many thugs he took down on last night's patrol. But he tries to work on it, he really does. He's started writing things down on scrap pieces of paper or notebokks that he found himself being dishonest about.

Masterlist

[ashlinxsloves]

-AARON HOTCHNER HEADCANONS-

The promised hcs for our favourite hot dilf Aaron Hotchner 🤭 I hope you guys like them, it's gonna be a little lengthy and I've divided them between Basic, SFW Dating and NSFW.. Minors please don't interact with the nsfw content.

–Basic–

Hotch would be the type of guy who listens to classical music around the team, but once he's alone in his personal car, he has a whole collection of CDs in his glove box of his favourite bands and albums (The Beatles, etc.)

He'd also listen to audiobooks during long drives home. The genre can vary between the classics or just a light novel.

A huge overpacker. He packs the essentials during cases, but if the trip is personal, he packs almost everything – sunscreen, mosquito repellent, a map, extra batteries, a flashlight, etc. You'll never know if it might come in handy

Dad instincts are strong af, will know something is wrong before it happens

Wakes up at the crack of dawn. Became a habit after working so long in the BAU

Hotch is overall a light sleeper. Mostly because of emergencies or sudden calls from the BAU

The king of overworking. Before Haley died, he used to work so much that he got nosebleeds. He does it less now and spends more time with Jack than with paperwork.

Likes his coffee black with two teaspoons of sugar. He doesn't like it too sweet but isn't bitter either.

He most probably had a secret rockstar phase in his teens. Crazy shoulder-length hair, studded belts, band tees and EYELINER. Stopped after he became a junior in high school though.

Used to blame himself for failing to save the victims during his early years in the field. He tries to remember every person he failed to save in the past and compensate by saving more while being calm and tactful.

Spends a lot of time with Jack during the weekends. He's trying to make up for lost time after being so busy with his job than being a father. They would go on road trips, and theme parks and would do a whole lot just to see his son smile.

Hotch would unironically start drinking apple or pineapple juice after Jack just asked him to. Just for no reason at all.

He gets horrible migraines because of staying up late and not getting enough rest.

-SFW Dating-

When the two of you just started dating, he wasn't 100% sure of it because 1. your age gap (reader would be in her mid-20s) and 2. The fraternization rule in the Bureau.

The both of you kept the whole thing a secret for about four months until the team figured it out on a random Tuesday.

"I- I mean it was pretty obvious from how Hotch was hovering over you all the time and the ways his stoic face softens when he addresses you. Not to forget the way his pupils dilate-" "That's enough Reid."

When you were gonna meet Jack for the first time, you were quite nervous about it, but Aaron reassured you that he'd love you (and the little dude did).

Hotch would try to take you on dates, but it was kind of hard with your hectic schedules.

So it would usually be movie nights at his place along with some takeout dinner after putting Jack to bed.

It took Hotch a while to open up to you, but you were there to support him and he was worth the wait.

Picks you up for work and drives you home even if you told him that it was okay and you had your own car, he insisted on driving you home and seeing you get there safely.

Brings you coffee and something sweet from the cafe. It's his way of telling you he cares about you without the team teasing you after he goes into his office.

He would start to think irrationally after finding out you got hurt during a case. He wouldn't be able to think straight on the way to the hospital and blurted a mumbled 'I love you' while putting pressure onto your wound.

When you sleep over at his place, he loves seeing you wear his old college T-shirts.

Hotch thinks about Haley a lot and feels guilty for it, but you understand that she was his first love and he peppers you with soft kisses to apologize.

"I'm sorry, Sweetheart... I know I shouldn't be thinking about what could have been and focus on what is.. I'll do better, I promise.."

Calls you to his office sternly as if you were in trouble but in reality, he just wants you for himself in the office for a little while.

His heart clenched yet light when Jack asked him if you were going to be his new mommy.

Pet names would be rare when it comes to him. What really matters is when he calls you by your name. But the occasional 'Sweetheart' and 'Darling' might slip out.

He shows you his unserious side. It was a whole 180 for you and it made you fall for him even more. He's an adorable dork.

Even if the two of you are dating, there's a fine line between being together behind closed doors and pure professionalism. Hotch is still your superior and there wouldn't be any special treatment even if you were his significant other.

But when he realizes he gets too rough with you he will apologize in private after the case.

His love language is quality time, so he tries to be around you and Jack as much as he can.

Cheesy pickup lines to try and make you laugh during a hard day. Only in private though.

Knows what to do when you're on your period. He'll bring a heating pad, warm fuzzy blankets, your favourite snacks and painkillers.

NSFW UNDER THE CUT MINORS DNI!!!

-NSFW Dating-

• The sex is incredible. Hotch knows all the right places to hit and how to give you a godly amount of orgasms.

• He starts out slow, letting you get used to the stretch and how much he's filling you up. You can practically feel his cock in your throat from how full you feel.

• Gentle feather-like kisses on your forehead, telling you how good you feel around him while starting to move his hips at a quicker pace.

• From slow, gentle thrusts, it changes into something more primal and rough. As if he were lashing out all his frustrations from work into your tight, little pussy, trying to fuck you into next week.

• And he does it well. He fucks you senseless until you're coming on his cock multiple times before he finishes and spills his cum into the condom he's wearing.

• He just loves fucking you in the missionary position, because he sees how your face contorts in pleasure.

• The first time the two of you slept together was at your place after a really stressful case and the two of you had a drink too many.

• Obviously, Hotch was still a bit sober but you were out of it. He wouldn't do anything without your consent, but you had dragged him into your bedroom and things got heated.

• Bruised your cervix one too many times. The two of you rarely have any sex but if you do, you go all out. He apologises with an amazing bath and breakfast in bed.

• Amazing aftercare. He'll take care of you after the both of you are done, even if he's tired. He'd always clean you up, get you a glass of water and press soft kisses on your shoulders. Cuddling and whispered confessions under messy sheets.

• Not a big fan of having sex in public spaces. He needs privacy when he's trying to fuck and pleasure you.

• But he does know about the dirty fantasies you have about getting fucked on his desk. He's seen the books read and articles you look up. Not like you could've hidden it from him anyway.

• He fulfills those fantasies to the best of his capabilities when no one's left in the office and it's just the two of you. He looks through the last of his files, calls you to his office and closes the door.

• His tie was loose, sleeves rolled up, revealing his forearms. His hair was slightly dishevelled as if he ran his fingers through them multiple times.

• Hotch makes you suck his cock until you're gagging, being a little rougher on you. Then he got you splayed on his desk, pushing your pencil skirt up and ripping your stockings by the crotch area.

• When he noticed how wet you got, he smirked, moving the gussets of your panties to the side. He then flicked your sensitive clit, making you whimper as slick gushed out your weeping hole.

• “You like this, don't you, sweetheart? Lying on my desk, messing up my paperwork with your slutty pussy?”

• He's not the type to degrade you, but if you really wanted to he would. But he wouldn't go too far with the insults.

• He's a switch. Since he's usually dominant in most of his everyday life, Hotch lets you take over once in a while.

• Loves going down on you. He likes loosening your tight hole with his mouth and savours the taste of your essence on his tongue.

• Hotch goes weak when you go down on him even if he doesn't ask you to. Praises and soft grunts.

• Isn't the type to be loud. Mostly pants and let's out soft groans when your pussy convulses around his shaft.

• Loves hearing you whine his name and complain how deep he is.

• Once he saw you looking at a site involving different positions, but the one that piqued his interest the most was the mating press.

• Was curious and wanted to try it with you. Hotch was too riled up to put on a condom that night and filled you up to the brim, having you pressed into the mattress, your calves over his shoulders as he buried himself deeper, hitting so many new places that it made you see white.

That's all for now, I hope you liked it 🤭🤭🤭

[sturnioz]

fratboy!chris has no reason to hang out with girls if there's no fucking involved — but it's a little different with shy!reader.

the subway car is fairly quiet, the faint hum of the train along the tracks the only sound breaking the stillness. a few strangers occupy random seats, each absorbed in their own world — some listen to music through plugged-on earphones and bluetooth headphones, some are busy reading their books, turning their pages softly, and others have surrendered to their tiredness, their eyes closed, heads leaning against the cool metal poles or the windows.

you're sitting on one of the wall seats beside chris, your anxiety bubbling beneath the surface as your teeth gnaw on your bottom lip, a nervous habit. your leg bounces restlessly, tapping against the hard floor as you glance up at the digital clock on the train's schedule, the late hour staring back at you.

now, you don't have a curfew at all — but you've always been mindful of getting home at a reasonable hour to avoid worrying your parents, and with your phone dead and unable to call them about your whereabouts, a wave of unease washes over you at the thought of getting into some sort of trouble.

chris is calm and relaxed beside you, his legs comfortably spread, knee bumping against yours as the train ways. his head rests back on the wall, eyes closed, while he chews on a stick of a lollipop that he devoured minutes ago, the muscles in his jaw twitch with each chew.

spending the entire day together was a little odd. you were originally heading to the city alone (after mustering up the courage when your friends had told you they all had plans) and you had bumped into chris on the way into the station. he was straightforward with his questioning, wondering why someone as shy as you would go to the big city alone, before announcing that he was coming with you.

the two of you spent the day walking the busy streets of the city, going into your favourite little thrift stores — which you felt embarrassed with when chris followed you inside instead of heading to a different store, making small comments under his breath and snorting at the little trinkets he came across. when he had led you towards the large stores, the price tags that made you squirm, you trailed behind like a little puppy, feeling out of place.

and when you went to go eat, that's when time had seemed to go by so quickly. you were enjoying yourself in the markets, eating delicious foods at stalls that left your stomach full — although you definitely made some room when chris brought you to one of his favourite dessert stalls, sharing a chocolate fudge and cherry sundae.

"will you fuckin' stop, kid?" chris grumbles suddenly, interrupting you from your memories of today, and your eyes flit to him. his hand lands firmly on your knee to stop your restless bouncing. "you're pissin' me the fuck off with your thumpin'... like a fuckin' rabbit, jesus christ."

"sorry." you whisper an apology, warmth riding to your cheeks as you try to steady your nerves, but it only spikes when you realise chris' hand remains on your knee.

"you need to relax, a'ight? because you on edge right now is.. well, it's makin' me all fidgety 'n shit. just relax... breathe," he tells you as he shifts, his head rolling to the side to meet your gaze, his eyebrows scrunched. "seriously, kid, what's got you all jumpy? huh?"

"it's late," you murmur quietly, glancing at the digital clock once again.

"late?" chris echoes, the corner of his lips twitching in amusement. "what? don't tell me that you got a curfew or some shit?"

"no, no," you shake your head. "it's just that... i always make it home at a certain time so my parents don't have to worry about me, and not only did i go into the city today, but my phone is dead too. i'm really worried that they've been trying to call me and—"

"okay, okay, okay," chris interrupts your rambling, a huff escaping his lips as he shifts his hips, reaching into his pocket to pull out his phone. "you know your parents' number, yeah? jus' call from my phone, kid. tell 'em you got busy and your phone died — it's easy."

you nod slowly, taking a much more relaxed breath as you accept his phone to do just that. chris scoffs quietly, resuming his chewing on the lollipop stick while squeezing your knee, before slumping his head down nonchalantly on your shoulder, listening as you speak to your parents — completely unaware of you trying to keep your voice steady and ignoring the flurry of butterflies through your stomach at the close proximity.

© STURNIOZ

[luneariaa]

⋆˚࿔ — I DESPISE COFFEE, BUT MAYBE I'LL DRINK IT FOR YOU ; ➢ ; BOB REYNOLDS .

🗡️ SUMMARY — he makes you a normal coffee, forgetting that you didn't like coffee. but you drink it anyways because it's him doing it.

. A/N — wrote this randomly as someone who's unable to enjoy coffee without getting any unwanted headaches ;_;

. !! — sappy, fluff imagine, intended for fem! readers. English isn't my first language so there might be grammatical errors !

. dividers by @/cafekitsune and @/cursed-carmine .

One time when you were still asleep, Bob woke up pretty early after a ( thankfully ) good night's rest, and decided to brew some hot coffee in the morning in hopes that you'd love it.

But he completely forgot that you weren't too fond of the said drink. You despised it, as a matter of fact.

Given a few minutes during the morning as well, you groggily walk up to the kitchen island— your state of mind is pretty much still sleep-addled. Without even trying to think twice or anything else, you grabbed one of the readied mugs that's close to you; lifting it up to drink it.

That's when your eyes shot open wider, becoming even more awake than before as the realization dawned upon you, letting out a rather displeased cough. It's enough to startle Bob out of his own focused trance ( on whatever he's doing at the moment, and you fail to realize that he was there ).

The all too familiar bitter taste that you hated so much stayed on the tip of your tongue still, trying to get rid of it somehow.

".. tastes awful." Those words would bluntly leave your lips, not even trying to think twice.

He took an immediate notice of your current displayed expression, and even the words that you've just spoken; to which lead him to apologize to you profusely.

"I'm sorry–! I thought you.. might like it this time.." He had to mentally face-palm himself due to his own forgetfulness ( that you despise coffee ).

All he wanted to do is to make you happy in the morning; seeing all your smiles and lighthearted expression being directed toward him. But this isn't working, clearly— which is caused by his own silly mistake.

His words made your eyes widen, silently cuss at yourself due to your own choice of words.

"Wait no no— I'm sorry, it's just me."

"I bet it tastes wonderful, but I just can't drink normal coffee, you know.." You tried to reason with him. But it's not really working, presumably, since his brows furrow slightly, momentarily so— though it's not directed toward you.

"It's not your fault," he would state with a visibly understanding expression. "I should've known that by now, but I forgot.."

You stared at him for a few minutes in contemplation, before approaching him and standing in front of him; your head tilted upwards to meet up his own ( and almost ) unreadable gaze.

"I was hoping that I'm able to do.. like y'know— at least something, to cheer you in the morning."

Your eyes soften immediately after hearing his words knowingly.

"Well, my day is already starting to go well," you stated with pure honesty, reaching out to rub his arm out of habit. "Because you're here."

And it's true, even though it sounded a little too sappy to others that might've heard it— it's the mere truth if it comes to Bob. He did make most of your days better, even if he doesn't really do much.

Either his simple efforts of trying to make you some drinks, or even simply just reading and standing near you—

— it makes you feel content, knowing he's there with you.

"But.."

"Maybe I can try to finish the drink by adding something— I'll figure it out." A clear reassurance is being made as you change your mind, feeling a bit bad if the coffee goes to waste if you didn't drink it.

Also because he made it, especially for you.

"You shouldn't do that, baby.." It slipped out from him even without him fully realizing it. It feels natural.

"I know—" you insisted, before wrapping your arms loosely around his form, not minding his words. "But I wanted to. I think I can just add sugar, or milk— whichever works best."

A tinge of pink would immediately coat his cheeks, gradually returning the embrace that you currently are giving him.

"Okay, but don't put too much sugar, if you do.."

"It's gonna be unhealthy for you." He unknowingly rambles a bit, to which earned a playful eye-roll from you.

"I'm gonna be fine, don't worry."

But of course— you didn't really listen to him, and literally put some unknown amount of sugar in your coffee, much to his own concern.

He couldn't really stop you, and he wouldn't want to, as long as you're happy—

— and even when it might put you into a risk of getting some headaches later on. You can think about that later.

— written by @luneariaa . reblogs are appreciated. do not repost; all rights reserved . 💫

[citruswriter]

Cybersex

Listen with me! ↠ⁿᵉˣᵗ ˢᵒⁿᵍ ↺ ʳᵉᵖᵉᵃᵗ ⊜ ᵖᵃᵘˢᵉ

Warnings: Smut, dubcon (ish), phone sex, degrading, dirty talk, voice kink, begging, fem terms, afab reader.

Creepypasta Kinktober Prompt: Dirty Talk/Over The Phone

Pairings: BEN Drowned x Fem Reader

It had been a long, stressful even. And now all you wanted to do was to relax and find some release. You had a habit you see, of rubbing one out after coming home. It was an easy way to transition from work to home mode and help your body relax. You'd shed your clothes would shed and you'd find yourself on your bed with your fingers circling your clit until you were slick and shaking with sweet, relaxing release.

But tonight seemed to be different. You came home, ready to relax and let your orgasm wash away the troubles of work but no matter what you tried you couldn't find release. You tried everything. Fingers, vibes, grinding, everything. And still... nothing.

You huff in frustration as your hand hits the bed in defeat. You roll over and snag your phone, trying to distract yourself before you heard your phone ding and a text pop up in the message board pop up.

Ben 💚: hey wanna call while i game?

You ponder for a moment before replying with yes and telling him to call you. Ben calls a few moments later and you pick up. "Hey girlie." His voice comes, smooth and low. You smile softly as you hear the voice of your best friend. "Hey Ben. How've you been?" You reply softly. "Pretty good, pretty good. Can't complain. I'm playing a new game." He said and you hummed. "Tell me about it." You said, knowing how much he loved to ramble about new games he was playing.

As he began to talk, you couldn't help but enjoy the sound of his voice. How smooth it was, how it almost rasped when it dropped a bit lower, how his laugh sounded like music when he laugh at his own jokes and holy shit you're getting turned on by his voice.

You felt guilty as you felt as you felt heat pool in your core, felt terrible as you reached a hand down to rub your pearl. You couldn't help it, you needed that release, and what Ben didn't know wouldn't hurt him right? You rubbed your pearl as he continued to ramble about the game, growing more and more desperate as you finally started to get a hint of an orgasm.

Grasping onto the strings you rubbed faster and harder , trying not to keen and gasp into the phone as Ben continued to ramble. But Ben must have noticed your silence, because he stopped talking. You bit back a whine of protest, silently willing him to keep talking.

"Hey you ok? You've been pretty quiet." He says, concern lacing his tone and your speaking before you can stop yourself. "Please keep talking, I'm so close." You whine out, desperation in your tone as you hear Ben go silent in shock. You feel that feeling of guilt rise in your chest, you were a horrible friend. Masturbating to your friend's voice without his consent.

"Babygirl you getting off to my voice?" He asks slowly and you give a soft whine, fingers moving on your clit once more. He'd never called you babygirl before. You wanted him to call you more nicknames. "Y-Yeah." You say softly and you almost melt when you hear him give an amused laugh, the sound pouring over your ears like sweet honey.

"Well fuck, sweetness. Didn't realize you were such a slut for my voice." He teases and you shudder. "Tell me what your doing sweetheart and I'll keep talking." He promises and you whine out.

"I'm rubbing my clit. Fuck I'm so wet, Ben. So close to cumming. Fuck it's been such a long day and I couldn't cum after work and then you wanted to call and your voice just sounded so fucking attractive and I just couldn't help myself. I'm so sorry." You babble out, hand still working your clit to keep your orgasm from being ripped away from you.

"Don't apologize, babygirl. I think its cute. You're all heady and desperate just from my voice. Shit I can only I can only how desperate I could get you for my cock." He breathes out and you whimper, the thought of him fucking you on his cock driving you even further, working your clit furiously.

"Please Ben. Please I'm so close." You plead, your tone becoming high pitched and desperate and you can hear Ben groan. "Such a slut. Cum for me, sweetness. Be a good girl and cum." He purrs and you cry out as you cum, vision blurring as you orgasm and that familiar feeling of sweet relaxation washes over you and you can't help but sigh out in relaxation.

"I'm coming over." Ben's voice can be heard and you squeak. "What?" You breathe out and Ben chuckles darkly. "Yeah. Now it's time for you to cum on my cock."

You were well aware of the thrill of delight that went up your spine.

Only on my second day and I'm already late with my writing. Tsk, tsk. I'm really pleased with this one tho. So, enjoy.

Taglist: @rainrot4me

[m30wk1ttycat]

Daisuke x reader... Please... 🙏

*dies*

i gotchu, anon 🙏

daisuke x anya's intern!reader; pre-crash; not-so-minor injury (no stitches tho) summary: daisuke gets injured on purpose, just so you would tend to his injuries.

"this is, like, the sixth time this week," you scolded as you cleaned up the gash on his upper arm. apparently, he wasn't looking and bumped into something in the utility room, cutting his arm open in the process.

he winced. "yeah, so?"

"it's monday."

"oh! right."

silence; you continued tending to the injury. "sorry 'bout that..," he eventually said.

you sighed, extending your arm to grab the roll of elastic bandage right next to the brunet, placed on top of the medical cot he was sitting on. "just try to be more careful. we'll be out of bandages within a month if these accidents keep happening - and there's still eight months left of transport. who knows what we might need 'em for in the future."

"i know, i know! i'm sorry, i didn't mean to. you know that, y/n!" he frowned, as if betrayed you'd ever think he'd do something like this on purpose. which he would and just did, but you didn't need to know that - and neither did anya, who'd probably give him a 40 minute long scolding about how he shouldn't do things like this to get your attention.

"i didn't say you meant to do it, daisuke. i'm just saying you should be more careful." you paused and lifted your head up. "and stay still."

"i am staying still," he insisted.

a sharp intake of breath when you tightened the bandage. he bit the inside of his cheek; "mmngh.."

"sorry 'bout that," you murmured. the "mm," his only answer to your apology, was something that you'd grown used to after all the times - too many times - you've tended to him.

"all done!"

he moved his arm, rolled his shoulder, flexed. as if to test out how moving it would feel - also something he always did, a habit of his whenever you'd finish patching him up you noticed. "thanks, y/n! you're so, so, super awesome, thanks so much. you're a lifesaver - genuinely, no joke!"

you blinked.

he stiffened. did he say too much? no response surely meant that he said too much-

"i'm not that awesome, calm down." you chuckled.

"no, but, like, you totally are! i could never do what you do." you could already tell a ramble was brewing just by how his voice sounded. the excitement in his tone was telling - or maybe you just knew him too well? "how are you so good at this? the medical stuff, i mean. tending to people and stuff. dealing with blood. i mean, i get super duper queasy at the sight of blood - found that out after i pulled out my own tooth in third grade. traumatizing experience, i tell ya."

you clicked your tongue, contemplating your next words; "i dunno. i study a lot?"

"nerd."

"i prefer 'dedicated', thank you."

"is this you admitting that you are a nerd?"

"no-"

"okay, nerd."

you glared at him.

"okay, okay." he held his hands up defensively. "i'm going now-" standing up, he began to slowly walk away. slow, small steps. "-see?"

finally, when he was at the door: "bye, y/n!!"

"bye, daisuke."

once he was gone, a murmur from you: "dumbass.."

[theseventhdimension]

hi,

i have a rq for s!10 spencer reid, nsfw, the whole point is that he’s really sloppy while kissing. i have a dim restaurant on a first date in mind, really great chemistry, sexual undertones in conversation. they can end up either on one’s apartment or in the restroom

thanks so much, waiting xx

Loose at the Neck

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Top! Male! Reader

Word count: 2.1k+

DNI: Fem Aligned and Minors

Author's note: Ugh this is such a great idea oh my gosh. I'm.. gonna be so real with you guys, I'm only up to s!9 💔 I looked up some photos of him in s!10 for reference, saw the tie, and got this idea. Hope you enjoy!! :)

It’s times like these where Spencer has no idea if he likes wearing ties or not. Sure, he loves it when you grab it—fist curled tight in the fabric to yank him in for a kiss—but it also takes longer to strip off and just get to you.

But right now? Yeah. He thinks he enjoys them.

Dinner ended a few minutes ago. You’re both tucked away in the darkest corner of a booth at the restaurant Derek insisted was “classy but with potential.” Potential for what, you didn’t ask—but you’re starting to understand. So this is how he gets the girls, huh?

Thankfully, the BAU pays a pretty penny, so neither of you are sweating over the check. The only thing you have to worry about right now is if someone sees Spencer—unbuttoned, flushed—and you, clearly grinding under the low table.

You have him on your lap, his legs straddling your thighs in a position that would look ridiculous if it weren’t so hot. Both of you are hunched down just enough to stay hidden, trying not to rise above the privacy of the booth’s high back.

Spencer loves kissing you. He really does. But every time… he just gets so dumb for it. Can’t think straight. His brilliant mind fogs up, thoughts scattered like static electricity. All he knows is you.

It starts with a brush.

The corner of your mouth catches his when you shift, and that’s all it takes. Spencer freezes for a second—his lips barely parted, his pupils wide like he’s been hit with some kind of chemical high. Then he leans in again, chasing the warmth like he can’t help himself.

His mouth lands a little off-center. His kiss is open, wet, and just shy of desperate. He’s not neat about it—not at all. It’s like he forgets how to kiss with precision, all those sharp edges of his mind turned soft and unraveled under your touch. He sighs into your mouth, then hums, and then groans softly like the sensation is dragging something deep out of him.

It’s messy. His nose bumps yours. His bottom lip drags against your upper one. When he pulls back for breath, a faint string of spit stretches between you for half a second before it breaks, and god, he’s flushed everywhere. Cheeks, ears, even the tips of his fingers where they’ve curled into your shoulders, trimmed fingernails leaving marks through your dress shirt.

“Sorry,” he breathes, blinking like he’s just come up for air. “I—sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“You did,” you whisper, grabbing the knot of his tie again, pulling him back in. “You want to apologize?” you murmur, fingers sliding along his jaw to tilt his head up again. “You can do it with your mouth full.”

And he melts. You feel it—the way his spine gives, the way his mouth slackens and turns hungry, the way his long fingers clutch your shoulders through your shirt like you might vanish. He kisses you like he’s never kissed a man before. Or maybe like you’re the only one he's ever wanted to. He kisses like he’s never been allowed to want something this much before. Like it’s hunger, not habit.

And the thing is, you love it.

You love how he forgets himself. How he doesn’t care if it’s too eager or too much. How he falls apart with every touch of your mouth. Right here in the back of some overpriced restaurant, wrecked and panting. His tie’s already loose. His curls damp at the edges. And still—he doesn’t stop. He kisses you again and again, tongue against yours, then your cheek, your jaw, the space just below your ear.

The table creaks slightly as you shift, pulling him closer.

“This is…” he murmurs between kisses, “...probably not what Derek had in mind when he recommended this place.”

You laugh against his lips. “He never should’ve given us the booth in the back.”

Spencer grins, and then kisses you again—hot and open-mouthed, with more tongue than finesse, and you wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Not even dessert, considering he's sweet enough.

When you finally pull apart, both of you are flushed and unsteady. His curls are wrecked from your hands, your shirt is tugged halfway from your waistband, and your lips—his especially—are red and spit-slick.

You thumb at the corner of his mouth, wiping a smear of your own lip balm from his skin. He licks instinctively, tongue flicking out—and it’s done. You’re lost.

“I need you,” he whispers.

The words are soft, but you feel them like they’ve been shot into your chest.

You barely manage to breathe: “Okay. Your apartment or mine?”

He doesn’t hesitate. His eyes flick toward the hallway.

“That’ll take too long,” he says, already climbing off your lap, tugging you after him. “I need you now.”

The tension between you snaps like a rubber band. In a blur, you're both standing—though calling it “standing” is generous when Spencer’s dragging you behind him by the wrist, half-hiding your joined hands in his suit jacket like two teenagers up to no good.

You slip into the hallway unnoticed, heart thundering in your chest. The lighting is dim back here too, golden and quiet, the music from the main room muffled like it’s been swallowed in velvet.

Spencer shoves the door to the men’s restroom open with one hand. It clicks shut behind you a second later.

You spin him and press him hard into the wall. He gasps, lips parted—ready—but you just look at him for a second. Let him feel how much control you’re holding back.

“Now?” you ask, voice rough, just to watch him nod.

“Yes. Please,” Spencer whispers.

You smile, dragging him in for another kiss—hard, hot, claiming. His hands scrabble for your shirt, but yours are already there, gripping his waist, grinding your hips into his until his knees tremble. You keep him pinned, kissing him like it’s the only thing keeping him alive.

He moans into your mouth, needy and soft.

You barely pull away to mutter against his lips, “You’re gonna have to keep quiet for me.”

“I’ll try,” he pants, eyes wide, voice wrecked.

“You will.”

His knees nearly buckle.

Being a germaphobe, Spencer never imagined he'd willingly do anything in a public bathroom. But then again, he’s never had someone like you.

It's now you realise you haven't even made it to a stall.

It’s the wall. It’s always the wall—cold tile against Spencer’s back, your palms braced on either side of his head like you’re caging him in, devouring him whole, the back of his pants pull down slightly, with two of your very own fingers searching his insides for that spot that makes him go wild.

He's moaning and crying out, honestly a little scared that someone will walk in, but the pleasure from his lower half pretty much drowns it out, especially when you reach another hand around to his front to rub his very red tip.

"Mmmmph, fuckk.." He bites down on his lips. "S'mbody's gonna walk in.. in on us.." he moans breathily as you bite down on the junction of his neck.

His eyes cross a little inwards as your ring finger presses down on his walls, dead center on his prostate. Seeing his reaction as you put your head on his shoulder to stare at his pretty face, you know you've found it, and, admittedly, decide to abuse that spot.

Fuck, he wants to scream and cry and cum, but you told him to be quiet. So he will.

you gently run your hands over his torso, your fingers light touches contrasted the way your fingers thrusted into his hole, and it drove Spencer crazy, he wasn’t expecting you to be so rough and gentle at the same time, it was mind breaking and almost too much to handle — but he always handled it, he always took everything like a good boy and you made sure he knew that.

“m’gonna cum- oh fuck-” Spencer groaned, his eyes watering desperately as his hands claw at your wrist, blunt nails leaving little marks in their wake as he tries, and fails, to push your hand away from his leaking tip.

He’s so wet, the loud squelching sound causing his ears to go red, a constant reminder of just how horny you can make him — it’s a bit embarrassing really.

“please—, I can’t- fuck” Reid blabbers on, his eyes rolling back as his thighs quiver, ass clenching around your fingers. he’s close, he’s so fucking close and he’s sure you’re about to make him cum, hopefully for the first time that night.

“c’mon baby, can’t have you cumming this hard without my cock, hm?” you say, and by the time you finally, finally slow down and pull out your fingers, Spencer’s lips are wrecked—red and kiss-swollen, spit-slick.

His curls are damp with sweat, and his tie hangs off-center, rumpled and caught on one of the buttons you half-ripped open on his shirt.

He looks ruined.

And god, he looks good.

You keep him there for a second longer, body flush against his, your breath ghosting over his neck while he gasps softly in the crook of your shoulder. Your hand slips from his hip to cradle the back of his head, grounding him as his knees wobble.

Eventually, you pull back just enough to look at him.

Spencer’s eyes flutter open. They’re glassy and dazed, like he’s not entirely sure what dimension he’s in. His chest rises and falls in shallow breaths. He licks his lips, blinks once, and then leans forward like he needs to kiss you again just to stay upright.

You stop him with a hand under his chin, thumb brushing his lower lip.

“Breathe,” you murmur. “You with me?”

He nods, but it’s lazy. Distant. Like his brain’s still playing catch-up. “Mhm.”

When you finally let him go, Spencer sags a little, head tilted back to rest against the cool tiles. You reach down to fix his collar, tucking the edges of his shirt in just enough that he looks barely decent again.

He watches you do it, eyes fluttering every time your fingers brush his throat.

“…You are dangerous,” he mumbles, voice low and hoarse.

You huff a quiet laugh, smoothing his tie. “You dragged me in here, remember?”

“I didn’t know I’d survive it.”

You lean in again, brushing your lips over his jaw as you murmur, “You did more than survive, baby.”

The word makes him shiver. You feel it all the way down his spine.

Spencer stares at you, lips parted, absolutely blissed out. “You can’t just call me that after—after that—”

You raise a brow. “After what?”

He whines, quietly, and thumps the back of his head on the wall once. “You know what. You know what.”

You chuckle and offer him a hand. “Come on. Before someone walks in and you have to crawl out the window to save face.”

He takes your hand but doesn’t let go when he stands. In fact, he twines your fingers together and holds on like he doesn’t trust his legs yet. When you open the door to peek out, he ducks close behind you, still breathing just a little too fast.

The hallway’s empty. You pull him out, keep walking until you hit the front of the restaurant again. The maître d’ glances at you both—then quickly looks away. Spencer’s tie is crooked. Your shirt’s unbuttoned at the collar, your hair mussed. You look thoroughly disheveled.

Neither of you says anything until you’re outside, the warm night air hitting your face like a wake-up call.

Spencer blinks up at you, flushed and glowing. “So…”

You smirk. “Still glad you wore the tie?”

He laughs—soft and breathless—and nods, squeezing your hand. “Yeah. Though next time I might just wear a collar and save you the effort.”

You raise a brow. “Careful, doctor. I might take that seriously.”

He shrugs. Innocent smile, flushed cheeks. “Maybe I want you to.”

You stop dead on the sidewalk.

He keeps walking a few steps before turning back, smirking now—full of mischief, eyes glinting in the low light.

You take one slow step toward him, then another.

“I hope you know,” you murmur, catching him by the tie again, “you’re not getting out of my sight the rest of the night.”

“I was counting on that,” he says, breath catching as you pull him close again. “Your place?”

[lurochar]

Bad Habit

So I recently read somewhere that Alastor pulls out his hair as a stress reliever? Not sure if it's actually canon, but I thought it was interesting, so here we are!

---------------------------------------

You feel bad, guilty.

Horrible even.

It is why you are currently sitting on Alastor’s bed, waiting for him to come back from wherever he had disappeared into the shadows.

It was okay, Alastor had given you permission to come into his room and the magic that served as his room's lock allowed your presence inside, despite how uncomfortable you felt being in the room regardless.

It hadn't been the first time you had turned down his offers of protection, companionship, and whatever else you desired. If you wanted, he would grant it to you.

Was that worth your soul?

You were scared, terrified even though Alastor assured you again, again, and again that he would never abuse your soul and it would be his greatest treasure. Hell, he had even written a contract of rules on himself pertaining what he could and couldn't do to your soul.

And tired of being frightened by this overwhelming strange one-sided courtship, you fled.

You weren't sure why Alastor allowed you to flee to begin with, perhaps he was giving you space to sort out your thoughts, but you had unconsciously glanced back towards him when you did run.

You had never seen such an expression like that on Alastor’s face before.

You couldn’t get that expression out of your mind and so, only a few hours later, you found yourself in the last place you wanted to be: Alastor’s bedroom.

Still, you couldn't describe that expression.

Irritation, anger, vexedness, longing, agitation, hunger, stress?

It floored you that Alastor could even feel so many of those emotions considering you knew his background. It stunned you even further he felt them for you since you believed he was interested in you because you were the only female deer demon – the only doe – in his territory.

Was Alastor interested in you beyond your demonic characteristics?

You jump when the shadows in the room flicker around and Alastor materializes, clearly taken back by your presence as he takes a step backwards when his red eyes land on you.

You stand from the bed, ready to apologize. “Alastor, I'm sorry about tod–” You pause, eyes widening when you notice something. “Y-your hair…!”

A large chunk of his hair is missing. It looks as though it's been torn out.

“Did you get into a fight?!” You quickly move towards him to get a better look, vaguely noting Alastor’s smile is tight and he almost resembles a trapped animal with his tense posture. “Are you hurt anywhere else, Alastor?”

Alastor stares down at your sweet concerned face and almost lets a sigh escape him. “I am fine, my dear Doe.” He resists the urge to bristle defensively when you try to get closer to where his hair is torn. “I did not go on a rampage today.”

You blink. “If… if you didn't fight anyone, what happened?” You looked back to his hair and winced. It looked painful.

Alastor’s smile widens to grotesque proportions. “I did this to myself.” His eyes watched you heatedly as you stumbled back in shock at his confession. “It's a bit of a habit, you see. I tend to rip out my hair when I'm feeling stressed to the point that even slaughter will not relieve it.”

Your ears drop.

“I never thought you would run from me, dearest. Now tell me,” Alastor’s hands are creeping up towards his head as his eyes cloud with fervour, “why are you so afraid of me?”

“Alastor!” You rush forward, clumsily pressing yourself against him and grabbing his hands with yours before he can tug at his hair again. You lace your fingers with his longer ones, feeling your face burn hotly as your body shook nervously. “W-why do you need my soul? Can't we do it all without me giving you my soul?”

Alastor tightens his fingers around yours. “I admit I am a complete novice in the area of… romance,  but is it not a romantic gesture? I would give you my soul if I were able.”

You couldn’t help but to laugh and Alastor raises a brow. “If that's what you think, then you have thousands of spouses already, including Husk.” You snicker again when Alastor’s eye twitches. 

“Husker.” Alastor utters in disbelief. “My spouse?” He looks as though he just swallowed rotten meat.

“Romance can be almost anything if the partner appreciates it.” You smile. “A flower. A walk together. Dinner with each other. Stargazing. Anything really as long as you enjoy their company.”

Alastor raises your hand slowly towards his lips and you shiver (and not from fear) as he places a gentle kiss on the back of your hand. “My lovely Doe, would you care to accompany me on a walk in my bayou?”

Your face softens as your eyes move towards Alastor’s missing chunk of hair. “As long as you come talk to me when you get to that point again. I don't want you hurting yourself, especially over me.”

“It's not a big deal, Darling. My hair will be grown back by tomorrow morning.” Alastor lets out a hum at your glare. “But I suppose I can if you wish.”

As long as he got his sweet Doe in the end.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Arguments III

Hardersson x Child!Reader

Part of the Big Adventures Universe

Summary: You get put in the naughty corner

Magda watches as you rage but still don't move from your spot.

You scream and cry and throw your little limbs around but you do not move away from the corner Pernille has put you in. You stubbornly sit in it as you sob and screech and kick your feet out.

Magda has to turn away from your tear stained face and the little grabby hands you reach out to her when you catch her looking.

Pernille is still in the kitchen, cutting up some broccoli and completely ignoring the way you're screeching a few feet away.

"Pernille-"

"No, Magda."

"You don't even know what I'm going to say."

"I do." Pernille turns. "You're going to say to give her a hug and a kiss and tell her that it's all alright. Well, it's not and she knows actions have consequences."

A few minutes ago, you had gotten very angry. You'd woken up on the wrong side of the bed this morning and had been clingy and whingy all day. You had to have attention on you at all times. You had to have one of your mothers holding you at all times.

You'd been like that when you got home as well.

Magda had been keeping you occupied with a game while Pernille started on dinner but out of nowhere, you pivoted to want Pernille's attention. She told you to wait a bit until she was done with her food prep.

You hadn't liked that and shrieked at her.

Pernille told you if you did that again then you'd go to the naughty corner.

You shrieked again and knocked all of Pernille's cut-up chicken onto the floor.

Pernille put you in the naughty corner.

Which was how you found yourself now.

"But don't you think she's been there enough?" Magda asks," Pernille, she's crying."

"She's crying because she's not gotten her way," Pernille replies dismissively," She's been in the naughty corner before, Magda. She knows that acting out like the means time there."

"Pernille," Magda insists," She's learnt her lesson. Let her out."

"Magda," Pernille says in the exact same tone," If we take her out of the naughty corner early, it teaches her that she can cry her way out of things. That's not a good example to set with her."

"She's crying!" Magda continues," She's crying and she's distressed and you're being heartless!" She whips a finger to point in Pernille's face.

"I'm being heartless?!" Pernille scoffs," Well, forgive me Magda, for not handing everything our child wants to her! You're being soft!"

"She's a baby! Our baby-"

"She's not been a baby for a few years! She's perfectly capable of learning that actions have consequences. You're trying to teach her bad habits!"

"You're being cruel, Pernille! You just set her down and ignored her! How does she know that you still love her, huh? How does she know that you've forgiven her?!"

"Don't question my parenting! I'm the one that disciplined her when you were away! Me! Not you! I know how to look after her!"

The argument continues and neither of them have noticed that you've stopped crying.

Your head moves like a ping pong ball between them as one starts speaking over the other.

You're not meant to get up out of the naughty corner until either Momma gives permission or you've stopped crying.

Momma hasn't given permission but you have stopped crying and you don't like the way Momma and Morsa are yelling at each other, looking seconds away from pushing the other like they do to people on the pitch.

You head over, wiping away your tears with the back of a hand.

You pull on both of their hands, silencing the argument as they both turn to look down at you.

"I'm sorry, Momma," You say to Pernille because that's what you've always been taught.

The naughty corner is time to reflect and think about your actions and why they were wrong. Apologies mean that you've thought about them and you know why you were put there.

Pernille falls to one knee and gently wipes the remnants of tears off of your face. "And what are you sorry about?"

"For not waiting," You reply," And for throwing the food on the floor."

"Uh-huh," Pernille says," Thank you for saying you're sorry, princesse. Me and Morsa forgive you."

You nod. "Can I go play in my room?"

Pernille glances at the clock. "Dinner will be ready in half an hour. Don't start a long game."

"Okay!"

You hurry up the stairs and Pernille turns to Magda again, sighing.

"I don't like arguing with you," She says," But you've got to trust me. I know what works with her and what doesn't."

Magda sighs too, looking away briefly before meeting Pernille's eyes. "I don't like arguing either. It's just hard, you know? I don't like watching her cry and doing nothing."

One side of Pernille's mouth perks up. "It goes against every mum instinct you have, doesn't it?"