#and that just makes me sick to my stomach

[lnfours]

Hi baby! Saw you need some inspiration and I thought, do you know the early stages of dating? Like, you are getting to know the person and there are aspects you don't expect and surprise you and I imagined the first time reader realises how much clingy Lando can be and it's just cute and lovey dovey 🥺 maybe he is sick or something and turns into a giant baby

hello, my love!!! 🥹 it's been a while, i missed you sm!!! i hope you're doing well! <3

also, i can totally see lando turning into a big baby when he's sick, and even when he isn't 😁

blurb day to cure my writers block

it was early morning when lando's name lit up your phone, a soft buzz following his text. you knew he landed late last night and when you called him just before bed he sounded a bit nasally, almost like he was catching a cold.

sure enough, the text you read on the screen confirmed your suspicions.

would you kill me if i asked to reschedule our lunch date? i'm feeling like i got hit by a bus 😩

you immediately texted him back, fingers typing quickly on the screen.

not at all! do you need anything? i can stop at the store and come by, maybe make some soup if you're feeling up to it ❤️

he felt guilty for canceling the date you two had planned out before he left, especially because he had been away for weeks. his head was pounding and his sinuses were all stuffed up, but as he read your message back to him, he couldn't help the small smile that spread across his face. the sweet words making his heart jump up to his throat.

depends, does the chef also provide cuddles upon request? 🤔

i'm sure they'd be able to make special accommodations, just for you 😌

oh, he was on cloud nine...

lovely, see you soon? ❤️

see you soon ❤️

you threw on the first pair of sweatpants and hoodie you could find before grabbing your things and rushing out the door, making your way to the store. after browsing the medicine isle for all different kinds of treatments and debating on wether or not to splurge for the extra strength medicine, which you did, you grabbed the ingredients to make the soup. the same recipe your mom used to make for you whenever you were feeling under the weather, the one that worked like a charm.

and shortly after, you were knocking on the door to his apartment. smiling sympathetically when he opened the door with tired eyes and a small smile, the hood of his black hoodie pulled over the mess of brown curls. he looked tired, and he definitely looked sick.

"'ve got every medicine i could find," you said, pulling all the packages out from the bag and placing them onto the counter, "and the ingredients for the soup my mom used to make."

he sat in the stool at the kitchen island, head resting on his hand as he watched you open one of the packets of pills. you popped one out of it's foil casing, turning around and grabbing a glass from the cupboard and filling it with water before sliding them towards him, "here, this should help with the head and stuffy nose."

he nodded, taking the pills before reaching out to you now that you were in arms length. you let him pull you closer, slightly giggling and wrapping your arms around him as his head rested on your stomach.

you had heard that men were big babies whenever they were sick, but with lando it seemed... different. almost like he had been hiding the fact that he enjoyed cuddling into you, not wanting to scare you off in the beginning stages of your relationship.

but you didn't mind, not one bit. you liked this, and you would've stayed like this for the rest of the day if you didn't have a recipe to start.

his words were muffled into your sweatshirt as he softly spoke, voice gravely, "thank you."

you leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of his hoodie-clad head, "'course,"

he picked his head up and you were met with the same grey-green eyes you were met with at the door, this time they screamed sleep deprived. you tucked the curls back underneath the hood, "wanna go lay on the couch while i start this? i'll join you when 'm done,"

he nodded, moving slowly towards the couch before flopping down, grabbing the blanket from the back panels and getting comfortable. he flipped the tv on as you tried your best not to be loud with the pots and pans, cautious of his pounding head.

and when the soup was finally at the stage where it had to be left to boil for hours, you made your way into the living room. you smiled softly at his cheek pressed against the couch cushion, eyes closed as he finally drifted off to sleep. you carefully joined him on the couch, stirring him awake shortly as he pulled you closer, legs intertwining with yours and his head falling to your chest.

the moment you realized you were slowly, but surely, falling in love with him. willing to do anything and everything for him as long as he was yours.

[sixpennydame]

Captain Levi had never planned to fall in love with you, the pregnant widow of a Survey Corps member.

Your husband wasn’t part of his squad, but he’d seen him fall, just seconds too late from being able to save him. He’d found a letter to you in his pocket and delivered it to you in person; it was the least he could do, he thought. You were gracious and thankful to have this last message from your sweetheart but Levi saw the depth of sadness in your eyes, and something else simmering just below the surface.

“I’m pregnant,” you confess. “Three months.”

“Do you have family to go back to?” he asked.

“I have no one.”

And that’s how Levi found himself visiting your house whenever he came into Trost. It was late fall, so the Corps was on hold from any expeditions, and after he picked up his usual cleaning supplies, he’d find himself picking up some things for you and bringing it by.

“There’s some tea there that is supposed to be good for morning sickness,” he says as he hands you a bag of groceries, “and some of my officer’s rations of red meat. I heard that’s good for a growing baby.”

“You’re too kind, Captain. You don’t have to do all this for me.”

You were right, he didn’t, but he couldn’t help worrying about you, a soon-to-be mother, raising a child on her own.

A month turned into two, then three, your belly growing rounder, your features becoming even softer. There was a glow about you he couldn’t describe, almost angelic.

His monthly visits had become weekly; you would cook him dinner and he’d stay until the fire in the hearth was embers, and your eyelids became heavy.

But this time, as he stood up to leave, you took his arm.

“Captain…could you stay? Just for tonight.”

He knows he shouldn’t. You’re still grieving and probably just lonely. But he can’t deny the pull you have on him. You’re beautiful and kind-hearted, witty and spirited. His thoughts drift toward you so naturally now, wondering how you’re feeling, if you need anything.

If you need him.

And so he follows you to the bedroom and lays on the bed beside you, making sure to stay on his side and give you the space you need. You toss from side to side, finally lying on your back.

“The baby’s too active tonight. I feel like I’m a human punching bag,” you sigh out, then you roll over to look at Levi.

“Do you want to feel it?”

You gently take his hand and place it on your belly. For a while, he feels nothing but the pounding of his own heart, touching you in what feels to him to be so intimate.

But then there’s a little bump under his hand. Then another.

Levi’s experienced many things in his life, but never has anything brought him so much awe than those two little movements.

He spent that night with his hand on your stomach as you drifted to sleep, and decided right then and there that he would do whatever it took to keep you and that little one safe, healthy, and happy.

[erinwantstowrite]

im so sorry you had to deal with batchest shippers so many time:( dont let it discourage you! there are still NORMAL PEOPLE that love your fic

hope they get the messagge unfortunately your fic has reached the wrong crowd🫶

for the most part i get amazing, creative, lovely readers and i love love love seeing everyone comment and make their own posts and art and writing. it's just that the minority (somehow, since the Batfam has majority ships in the Batcest category) of commenters will come onto my page or on the fic itself and tell me they ship two characters (usually Peter and Damian, and other times it's Tim and Jay, but a couple times it was Bruce and one of his sons). And it really really really makes me sick to my stomach.

What makes it worth it are all of the amazing readers I do have. There are a few of you who have reached out and told me your stories, and why you were thankful I've made my stance so clear. Just know that even if I didn't respond to the ask, I saw it and I think about you often. I hope I can continue making you feel comfortable and welcome with me.

[reidmania]

sharpest tool | s.reid

(chapter four, motion sickness)

'I hate you for what you did and I miss you like a little kid. i faked it every time but that's alright. i can hardly feel anything, i hardly feel anything at all, I have emotional motion sickness somebody roll the windows down, there are no words in the english language, i could scream to drown you out'

summary; you never had someone make you feel safe enough to open up, until spencer. now trying to cope with his sudden absence you learn to lean on your new found friendship with his coworker, penelope.

warnings; fem reader, mentions of bad relationships, ghosting, commitment issues, self doubt & overthinking, preettyy angsty idk guys, no comfort yet but there is some fluff, and theres penelope & reader friendship!! reader lowkey shit talks spencer but he deserves it. reader is embarrassed & upset. reader is lowkey really mean, but shes coping guys. i think this is my favourite chapter out of all of them.

2.3k words

taglist; @gghostwriter @lavonee @guiltyyassin @spencersinonlygf @criminalmindssworld @iknwreid @fortheloveofgubler @yokaimoon @sapphirecobalt-1 @eddiesdrummergf @livvyliv15 @lover-of-books-and-tea a @sebastiansstanswhore @bloodredrubyrose @sp3ncelle @nemobee777 @jencole214 @hazzarules

SERIES MASTERLIST

The lights are low, casting a soft, warm glow on the room, making it feel almost too cozy for the storm of emotions swirling inside of you. Penelope sits across from you on the other side of the coffee table, her vibrant personality seeming muted for once. She’s not wearing her usual bright colors, just a simple oversized shirt and pajama pants, the kind of clothes that scream comfort. It fits the night. It fits the conversation.

“You want to talk about it?” Penelope asks, voice gentle, but still full of that spark of energy that only she has. There’s no judgment there. Her eyes made you believe there never would be.

Your fingers tug absentmindedly at a loose thread on the hem of your sweatpants, the silence stretching between you like an invisible barrier. But it’s not an uncomfortable silence. Penelope doesn’t push. She doesn’t know you well enough to push. You’re not sure how to start, not sure how to talk about something you’re still struggling to process.

The night had consisted of making cookies, watching sickeningly sweet romance films you both gushed over — there were numerous times you had to stop your mind from drifting to Spencer, and when it did, you felt a sickening ache in your stomach. For the most part, besides those moments where the room fell quiet and your mind drifted, the night had been great.

“He just... stopped,” you whisper, voice barely audible, but Penelope catches it. Her eyes soften, and she leans forward slightly, offering silent encouragement for you to continue. "One day, Spencer was there, and the next... he wasn't. Theoretically of course..”

Spencer was different to anyone else you met, or at least he seemed that way. You thought he understood you. The way he listened, the way his eyes softened when he looked at you, the way he made you feel like you could breathe around him. No one had ever done that for you before. But then, when things had started getting real—when you both were on the verge of making it official—he disappeared. You couldn’t help but wonder if maybe it was a commitment issue thing. Or if he really just had been playing with you the entire time.

“I don’t understand why,” you continue, the words tumbling out faster now, as if saying them out loud will make them make sense. “One day, we were close. He’d text me every morning. He’d ask how I was feeling, what I was doing. He made me feel… seen. Like he actually cared. And then, nothing. No calls, no messages. He just—”

“Ghosted you?” Penelope finishes for you, and the bluntness of the term hits you harder than you thought it would. You nod, feeling the sting of it all over again.

“He just disappeared,” you say, the words coming out harsh, jagged. You laugh bitterly, but there’s no humor in it. “Like I wasn’t even worth an explanation.”

Penelope’s hand reaches across the table, her fingers curling around yours in a comforting squeeze. She doesn’t say anything for a moment, just lets you sit with the weight of your own pain. But her presence, her warmth, makes it feel a little less suffocating.

“I’m so sorry, sweetie,” she murmurs, her thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “Spencer… he’s complicated. I don’t know why he did this to you, but I can tell you for sure, it’s not your fault. It never was.”

You close your eyes for a second, trying to swallow down the hurt, but it lingers there, a dull ache that refuses to fade. It’s not just about Spencer ghosting you; it’s about all the hope you had pinned on him. You thought he was different, thought he could be the person who made you feel safe in a way you had never felt before.

You couldn’t help the embarrassment you felt, all you had been thinking about for days was ‘how could i be so stupid.’ You had your guard up for a reason. You didn’t date for a reason, and the fact that you had let him let you forget that. You were so mad at yourself.

You missed Spencer more than you were willing to admit. Sleep evades you, and when it comes, it’s restless—haunted by the ghost of his touch. Your limbs grew weary, not from movement but from the effort of carrying the silence he left behind.

Your lips twitch into a bitter smile. “Yeah, well, maybe that’s on me. I was stupid for thinking it would be different.”

“No. Absolutely not,” Penelope says firmly, her voice suddenly fierce in a way that surprises you. “No. You were not stupid. You opened up because he made you feel like you could, and that’s on him, not you. He gave you the signals. He made the promises, and then he broke them. Spencer—he’s got his issues. He’s been through a lot, but that doesn’t excuse what he did to you. You deserved better.”

You pull your knees up to your chest, hugging them tightly as Penelope’s words sink in. It’s hard to believe that sometimes, that you deserved better. Spencer had made you feel like you could finally let your guard down, but in the end, it just made the hurt cut deeper. — Maybe thats all you’d ever deserve.

“He made me feel safe,” you admit, your voice breaking slightly. “Which i know sounds stupid— But— I don’t know.. I trusted him.”

“And then he took that away,” Penelope finishes, her voice softening again, filled with understanding. “It’s okay to be hurt. It’s okay to be angry. You opened up to him because you trusted him, and he didn’t treat that trust the way he should have.”

You nod, biting your lip to keep the tears at bay. You hadn’t wanted to cry tonight. You hadn’t wanted to break down. But being here with Penelope, his friend, his co-worker, who was so sweet and so understanding, it’s harder to keep everything bottled up.

“I just don’t get it,” you say, voice shaking. “Why would he make me feel like I mattered, like we were something, and then just leave?”

Penelope sighs, leaning back against the couch. “Spencer’s not great at dealing with his emotions,” she explains gently. “He’s always in his head, analyzing things, trying to make sense of the world. But feelings aren’t always logical. And sometimes… sometimes he runs from things he can’t control.”

You shake your head, a bitter laugh escaping your lips. “Well, he sure ran fast.”

Penelope gives you a sad smile, squeezing your hand again. “I know it doesn’t make it easier, but sometimes people can care about you and still hurt you. It doesn’t mean what you had wasn’t real. It just means he is an idiot.”

You stare down at your hands, the weight of her words settling on your shoulders. Maybe she’s right. Maybe Spencer did care about you in his own way, but that didn’t change the fact that he left you when you needed him most. It didn’t change the fact that you were still trying to pick up the pieces of your heart while he was nowhere to be found.

“I mean, he’s so damn smart, right? So.. So smart, always figuring things out. But apparently, figuring out how to treat people isn’t part of his skill set.”

Penelope chuckles softly, though there’s no real humor in it. “Yeah, sometimes Spencer’s great at solving every problem except the ones that really matter.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” you mutter, shaking your head. The frustration still courses through your veins, and you grip the fabric of your pants tightly, trying to channel it somewhere, anywhere. “I’m not going to sit around waiting for some half-assed explanation either. If he wanted to tell me why he bailed, he would have.”

She nodded her head. “He is dumb.” She said.

A laugh passed through your lips as you nodded quickly in agreement. “How is he so smart — and sweet yet such a fucking coward? I’m so pissed that he couldn’t even end things in person — that he didn’t even say anything.” You ran your hands down your face.

Penelope smiled. Maybe you were being mean in order to deflect from the hurt in your heart and the way your brain fizzled with an overwhelming ache for the comfort of Spencer. “Are you sure you don’t want me to ask him about it?” She asked.

You were quick to shake your head. While you were desperate for an answer of what you could have possibly done — you weren’t desperate enough to go through his friends to get an answer. You refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing you cared so much. “No. No- Please don’t— Does he even know we have been talking?” Penelope was quick to shake her head with a grin.

“Nope! I haven’t said anything to him.. I sent a photo to JJ earlier of your bobble head collection, but I highly doubt she would’ve just shown Spencer?” She mumbled, shrugging her shoulders slightly. The words made you frown, yet glad. You didn’t care about Penelope sharing your silly bobble head collection, it was something you were very proud of.

“I don’t really care if he knows. Is it bad I hope he is really mad? Like I hope he is really really pissed off about it. Is that petty?” You tumbled out the questions as your mind swirled. You hoped he was mad because at least then in some way maybe you could believe he cared.

“Yes. Definitely petty.” Penelope nodded, a playful smile on her face. “But— If anyone has a right to be petty, it’s you.. You’re handing this better than I would. i’d want to egg his house.” She shrugged, the words made a string of laughter leave your lips.

“I really really do want to” You said honestly, “maybe then he would have to say something” It was silly, but it would lie to say the thought hadn’t crossed your mind. It was childish, and immature and so petty, but leaving someone with no explanation was also just as childish and immature so in your head, it evened out.

“I reckon he would start crying” Penelope giggled.

“God I hope so.” you huffed out, running your hands through your hair before a small smile made way onto your lips as you looked up at the blonde women. The last thing you expected was to get along so quickly with the girl. You had expected it to be awkward between the two of you, but it wasn’t. You two spent hours watching silly chick-flics and laughing, before this conversation even started.

“Thank you- by the way. For this” you mumbled, referring to her just being there. She didn’t have to. She didn’t know you, she didn’t owe you anything, she was Spencer’s friend, not yours.

Penelope grinned widely, “Don’t thank me. I love boy genius but he can be such a tool sometimes without even realising it. He fucked up and you need somebody, plus who else would make sugar cookies with me?” She teased.

You curled up by Penelope’s side, smiling at her gently. You really were grateful. “Speaking of sugar cookies, do you think we could frost them yet?”

[linos-luna]

Cameras 🔪

Yandere!Han x Reader

Warnings: YANDERE, violence, toxic behavior, manipulation, spying, 18+

———————————————— •

You sit at your desk, staring down at the open notebook, your fingers tracing its edges, but your mind is somewhere else. The house is quiet, a little too quiet, and that familiar, uneasy feeling creeps over you again. Lately, it’s like someone’s been watching you, even when you’re sure you’re alone.

You try to shake it off, just like you’ve done every other time, telling yourself it’s nothing. But deep down, you know it’s not just paranoia. The little things have been adding up. Your stuff is always out of place, your jewelry box lid half open, a photo frame slightly crooked. And Han… well, you had mentioned it to him once, but he brushed it off.

"You're stressed, Y/N," he had said with that charming smile. "You need to relax."

That smile you love. Now it just feels off.

Your eyes drift to your bedside lamp. Something flashes, just for a second, but you see it. You sit up, heart skipping a beat as you reach for the lamp. Unscrewing the lampshade, you freeze when you see it. A tiny, blinking red light. A camera.

What the hell??

Your pulse quickens as you stare at the small device in your hand. Why is there a camera here? Who put it here?

But you already know. You just don’t want to believe it.

Your breath comes in short gasps as you tear through your room. Behind the framed pictures, inside the air vents, even inside your stuffed bear. More cameras. Everywhere.

You feel sick. How long has this been happening? How much has Han seen?

Without thinking, you grab your phone and dial Han. The anger in your voice barely masks the fear. “Han, we need to talk. Now.”

It doesn’t take him long to show up. His face is full of concern—or is it something darker? You can’t tell anymore.

“What’s going on?” he asks, stepping inside like nothing’s wrong. Like he hasn’t been invading every second of your life.

You hold up the camera, your hand trembling. “Why are there cameras in my room?”

For a split second, something flickers in his eyes. And then, just like that, his mask drops. The concern fades, and what’s left makes your stomach twist.

“I did it to protect you,” he says softly, stepping closer. “You don’t understand. I need to know you’re safe.”

Your breath hitches in your throat. You want to scream, to cry, but all that comes out is cold, hard disbelief. "This isn’t protection, Han. This is control."

His eyes darken, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "You don’t get to walk away from me."

Your body tenses as he steps closer, too close. His hand shoots out, grabbing your wrist before you can react. Pain surges through your arm as his grip tightens.

“You’re mine, Y/N,” he growls, his breath hot against your face. “No one else will take care of you like I do. You don’t get to leave me.”

A wave of panic crashes over you, but underneath it, anger is building. You twist your wrist, trying to pull free, but his grip only tightens. The pressure makes your vision blur with tears.

“No, Han…” Your voice trembling with fury. “Y-you’re sick!”

Without thinking, you drive your knee up into his stomach, hard.

He lets out a grunt, doubling over just enough for you to yank your arm free. You stumble back, heart pounding, adrenaline flooding your system. But then Han straightens, his face twisting with rage.

Before you can react, his hand swings out, slapping you across the cheek. Pain stinging in your face, knocking you off balance. You crash into the dresser, books and other nicknacks scattering to the floor. Tears rolled down your cheeks as you whimpered a bit in pain.

He’s standing over you now, breathing heavily, his fists clenched, but then something shifts in his expression. His eyes soften, a flicker of regret passing over his face as he takes in your terrified look.

“Baby, I’m sorry!” Han pleads, his voice breaking. “Don’t cry, please! I-I didn’t mean to hurt you!”

The room spins as you force yourself up, your legs trembling beneath you. Your hand brushes against the dresser, and you grab the nearest thing, a heavy lamp. Without a second thought, you throw it at him.

It misses, crashing into the wall behind him, but Han still flinches, staggering back as he dodges. His eyes widen, and for a moment, you see hurt flicker there.

“Y/N? W-why are you trying to hurt me?” His voice trembles, and you pause, your heart pounding in your chest.

“You’re the one getting violent!” you shout, the words tearing from your throat.

For a split second, he looks like he’s about to cry, and something inside you twists painfully. He just stands there, staring at you with those sad, broken eyes, making your heart ache.

He’s manipulating you. You know it, you *know* it, but that pang of guilt creeps in anyway. You have to shake it off.

“Stop it, Han. It’s not working. Not this time.”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, the softness drains from his face. The mask drops, revealing the cold, eerie calm underneath.

“Y/N…” he says, his voice unnervingly steady. “You know I love you. Everything I do is because I love you.” He takes a step closer, his eyes darkening. “And I’ll do anything for you.”

Han’s words hang in the air, thick and suffocating. His eerie calm sends a chill down your spine, but your legs won’t move. His eyes bore into yours, dark and unwavering, and you realize with a sickening jolt that there’s no reasoning with him. He’s beyond that now.

You back up slowly, your heart pounding in your chest. “Han… stay away from me.”

But he doesn’t listen. Instead, he takes another step toward you, his voice lowering into something soft, almost tender. “I’m the only one who can protect you, Y/N. Don’t you see? No one else will love you the way I do.”

You feel the wall press against your back, cold and unyielding. There’s nowhere else to go.

“Please, Han,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “Don’t do this.”

For a moment, his face softens again, but you know it’s a lie, just like before. He closes the distance between you in two long strides, grabbing your arms and pinning you against the wall. His grip is bruising, his breath hot and uneven as he leans in, his eyes glinting with something dangerous.

“Why can’t you just be mine?” he whispers harshly, his fingers digging into your skin. “Why do you have to make this so hard?”

Panic surges through you, but your body feels frozen. You struggle against his hold, but he’s too strong. His hands move to your throat, not tightening, but just enough to make you realize how helpless you are in that moment.

Your vision blurs with tears as you gasp for air, your body trembling under his hold. This is it, you think. It’s the end. You close your eyes in defeat, bracing for the inevitable as his hands apply light pressure to your throat.

But then, just as quickly as it started, the pressure eases. You blink in confusion, feeling his grip loosen. When you open your eyes, Han’s expression has changed… his face etched with guilt, sadness pooling in his eyes.

“Baby…” he whispers softly, his hands still hovering at your throat, but no longer squeezing.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you watch him look down at his own hands, as if seeing them for the first time. Tears start to roll down his cheeks, silent and slow, before he suddenly pulls you into a tight embrace.

“I-I’m sorry…” he sobs, his voice breaking.

His arms wrap around you, almost crushing you against him, and the sudden shift feels jarring. You can hear him weeping, his breath catching between sobs. The warmth of his body, the way he clings to you, it's so different from the rage that had consumed him moments ago.

You stand frozen, your body still shaking, unsure of what to do. Was this another trick? Another way to manipulate you, to pull you back into his control? Or… was he actually genuine this time?

It was hard to tell, and that terrified you the most...

[dropsnectar]

Pollen and Potions: Bee-men x Afab!reader

PART FOUR

So I know I said this part would have smut but it would just mess with the pacing, so the whole next section is where you will find your spice. This part is a little shorter for that reason. Anyway, I hope you like!

When you woke up, you felt incredibly warm. Your legs were tangled up with… someone elses? You would say it was someone else but human skin didn’t feel like this. It was firm and a bit fuzzy, but not like hair.  Your nose was being tickled by… fur? Whatever it was smelled amazing. 

You recognized this scent. You opened your eyes to Lyith’s round, sleeping face. His impossibly big eyes were closed, revealing his long blonde lashes. His expression was serene, and a bit of drool had escaped his half open mouth. Your sleep-addled brain vibrated with excitement. He was so cute you could just kiss him… 

Nope! Awake brain was working now, bringing some clarity to your head. Lyith and Rena had made a habit of covering your face in kisses but it had all been platonic. Excessive affection was a Bee-men trait. Probably? You thought back to yesterday, when he had kissed you and you had kissed him… was that truly platonic? 

There was a heat in your stomach, butterflies whenever he would hang off of you or tease… A part of you wanted to face these feelings but you weren’t ready yet. After all, how could a bee-men be with a human? You had heard of monster-human relations being something that could happen, but was their species even compatible with you? Was there a future there?

“You're thinking awfully hard for 8 in the morning.” Lyith breathed next to you. 

 Your awareness returned to you, and you were very cognizant of the fact that he had been holding you in his sleep. You pulled yourself back a bit so you couldn’t feel his breath on your face. He narrowed his eyes and his lip jutted out. A childish but cute pattern of his.

“W-What are you doing in my house?”

His mouth twitched. “You are a sick person. You should have someone to look after you. I’m  glad though, you only slept for a day this time.”

You looked at him, eyes squinting, “Are you okay though? Don’t you need to be at the hive for your… bee duties?”

Lyith sputtered at you, his body rocking with laughter. “And tell me, what are “bee duties”, Little witch?”

Your cheeks heated and you sat up, crossing arms over your chest.

“I just wanted to make sure you wouldn’t be in trouble, is all. What exactly is your duty in the hive anyway?”

Lyith stared up at you under his long lashes. “I am a forager. A scholar. An ambassador who goes to human town to get our supplies. Actually..”

He brought himself up and stretched out his wings. They seemed sturdy enough not to get too bothered by him laying on them all night.

“.. I used to know your grandmother. She used to let me forager her garden. Of course, she was a lot more sparing with her magic, so it was nothing like what you do.” He gave you a pointed look, “But she taught me how to speak human. An interesting person, your grandmother. We used to buy seeds for flower monsters off her. She must have had quite a life.”

You stared at him in surprise. Your grandmother had always been somewhat of a stereotypical grandmother. She’d spoil you and laugh at your jokes, leave little candies in your pocket when you weren’t looking. You had never imagined her to be the type of person to deal with Flower Monsters of all things. It also explained why Lyith seemed so trusting of you, off the bat.

“Hey Lyith?” You breathed out, trying not to think about how your legs were still touching.

“Yes?”

“Do you want some breakfast?”

***

After that, you saw Lyith almost everyday. He made a point of stopping to talk to you every time he visited your garden. Once a week he would take you to see Rena and you would work more magic over the plants. As the spring progressed into summer, the flowers changed. You learned that your magic, while creating magical nectar, only stayed within the plant and not the soil. You were right in your worry that a different approach was needed.

You met a lot more of the hive, as on their days off, some Bee-men would come and watch you work on the flowers. Not all of them were able to speak human, but they communicated their gratitude through sharing their emotions. As you experienced this more and more, you started to pick up on what could even be counted as them asking you questions. You’d try to answer in kind, putting a hand on their arm or shoulder and trying to push images or feelings at them. This worked only half the time, but when it did, the Be-men would look so pleased they would dance. 

Rena, had always seemed a bit jealous by this.

“Why don’t you speak to us like that? We speak human for your convenience you know. Aren’t I closer to you then some random creature?”

“Don’t call your hive mates ' creature’, that's rude.”

Rena would get up in your face, throwing her arms around your shoulders and touch her nose to yours. In your mind you would feel her jealousy. A possessiveness that you couldn’t help but feel a little giddy about. You tried to straighten out your feelings, giving her a kiss on the cheek. Then, you’d try to project some calm, warm energy at her. She just looked at you, sighing.

“You humans are a lot more dense than I thought.”

 Then she’d buzz off to deliver her nectar to the hive, leaving you behind in the company of her Hive mates. Lyith and Rena had been giving you more space lately when it came to your magic. You’d take more breaks, and often were given time to socialize. The Bee-mens youngest hive mate, Haven had grown especially fond of your company recently. He was your friend in gossip. 

Rena and Lyith had a habit of glossing over the issues of the hive, but Haven was very different. He would answer any question you could think of. You had learned that Rena and Lyith were actually pretty high up there in the social hierarchy, as they were both scholars who taught the rest of the hive in their free time. 

He was also very honest about the struggles of the hive.

“It's been about two decades since the last Queen died. We were having some issues with ambassadors from hives from the northern hive when a squirmish broke out. A lot of Bee-men died that day. Several of the Queen's favorite drones passed on and upon hearing the news her heart gave out.”

“Immediately? She wasn’t sick?”

“Do humans get sick before they die of heartbreak? For us it is impossible. Our bonds are our happiness. Without each other, our home isn’t a home, but an empty structure…” Haven trailed off, his expression wistful.

“But what was the squirmish about? I thought Bee-men were a friendly species.”

“You see, the two Queens had been sisters. The Northern Queen never liked our late matriarch and had been up to some mischief. She had convinced the Bunny Hybrids and the werewolves to move out of our territory. Eventually, the flower monsters left as well, and all the magic in the area just… disappeared. And Queens usually travel and make their own hives, or pick up abandoned ones. We’ve been waiting for so long!”

“Thats got to be hard. I mean, your guyses population can’t grow right?”

Haven looked at you weird.

“It’s more than that! Our Queens Pheromones give our magic structure! Without a Queen our magic grows weak and it's harder to communicate! Even making our honey properly becomes difficult because our grasp of our magic slips. We are so lucky we found you, little witch! Your magic is so easy to convert. I told you, you are a blessing!”

“But if you guys haven't been able to make honey properly for a while, how have you survived?”

“We haven’t. It's like your mana sickness. Sometimes our magic just eats us up.” You stared at Haven, your stomach turning. Haven looked at you sadly. “You should know this. Your Lyith and Rena have been sheltering you way too much. You're basically part of the hive at this point.”

You reached forward and hugged Haven. He trilled happily. 

“Honestly it could be so much worse!”

You spent the rest of the day in silence. You had known they were starving, but you hadn’t realized how badly. Something else didn’t sit right with you either. The fact that the monster races had left their territory had been something that had been bothering you. That had to be the reason why the soil wasn’t absorbing magic, right? That was the only thing that had changed?

Then it hit you. What was soil? It was broken down waste. No Monsters. No decay. No shit. And how did the Bee-men manage their own waste anyway? Could you do something with this? Could it really be that simple? 

You got so excited to tell Rena about it that it surprised you when you saw her at your door. Rena never made the trek to your house, saying that human civilization had a terrible smell to it. When you saw her face, she was crying.

“You have to come with me. Now.”

“Rena whats wrong, are you--”

“It's Lyith.”

All you could hear for a moment was the large thudding of your heart. Without another word you jumped into Rena’s arms and she held you, giving you a huge squeeze before buzzing off into the forest.

Part Five (Beware NSFW)

[machveil]

KONIG + GHOST WITH AN S/O WHO WANTS TO DANCE I THE RAIN

making out with that beautiful brain of yours oh my god

dancing in the rain with: Simon “Ghost” Riley, König + Simon and König

Simon “Ghost” Riley:

Simon’s a little skeptical at first, it’s not a light drizzle after all - it’s a good summer rain. but when you’re practically dragging him out the door? his shoulders slump and he sighs, “Hold on, jacket— can’t have you getting sick, love.”

truth be told, Simon’s not much of a dancer. if a song he likes comes on the radio the most he’ll do is tap his foot, maybe bob his head. so when you’re hand in hand and he watches you kick a puddle, dancing around in the rain? he’s willing to embarrass himself for you

and, oh man, is he an awkward dancer. ridiculous, a Lieutenant, built like a tank, trying to dance for his partner. he’s all elbows, hands in tight fists as he tries to match your energy - he’s really trying. he’s tense, it looks like he’s gearing up to hit a punching bag rather than dancing

looks like you have to step in - taking his hands in yours. “You look like you’re trying to fight me, Simon. C’mon, loosen up!”, you laugh, trying to get him to shimmy with you on the pavement, “I am loose.”, he deadpans, footwork a little sloppy. but, as he gets used to the way you’re moving, his jaw goes a little slack, he becomes a little lighter on his feet. there’s one thing he can do, and it makes your cheeks feel a little hot against the cool rain

hand on the small of your back, Simon dips you - weight supported by his palm. and when he brings the hand he’s holding up to his lips, a firm kiss the back of your hand, he cracks a smile, “This loose enough, lovie?”

König:

“You want me to dance, liebling?”, he asks, amused by the request. he glances out the window - spring, budding flowers dotting the trees and leaves sprouting on bushes. he’s taking your hand and leading you out the door, “Ja, why not, Maus.”

he humors you, but he’s a romantic at heart. he can’t deny the feeling in his stomach, butterflies flitting about. his heart squeezing with affection as you spin, droplets of rain rolling down your skin. he’s mesmerized by how you move, it doesn’t matter if you’re actually dancing or just kicking puddles

it’s surprising how the giant man can be so light on his feet - and he’s matching the rhythm you set. he’ll spin you, twirl you around, and he won’t let you fall. he doesn’t say anything, just grins behind his damp hood as you laugh and smile

but when he stops suddenly you look up at him, eyebrows raising as he settles his hands your hips, “König? What’re you— König!”, suddenly you’re in his arms, his hands shifting to hold the backs of your thighs as he picks you up - and easily too. “Was? I’m just dancing, Schatz.”

now he’s laughing softly, accent thick as he shuffles, “Ich liebe dich.”, he coos. you’re both thoroughly soaked by the time you go inside, a small cold hitting you both - but that’s okay, it was worth it

Simon “Ghost” Riley + König:

it’s almost comical to them - their arms crossed as you beg them to come outside with you, “Please— guys, come on! I can’t go out there alone, I’ll look dumb.”. Simon silently cocking his head to the side while König chuckles, “Dumm? Oh, liebling, we wouldn’t want that.”, he hums

König’s always one to give into your whims, the people pleaser in him comes out when you’re around. Simon, ever the straight man of the duo, is making sure the Austrian doesn’t rush you out the door, “Easy there, I’m not taking care of your ass if you get sick.”, he huffs, tossing a jacket at König. walking up to you, Simon drapes a jacket over your shoulders, lightly ruffling your hair, “And you’re too good t’get sick, love.”

once everyone is ready to face the rain though? it’s Simon dragging you out the door, “C’mon, you wanted this.”, voice gravely as walks down to the pavement with you, König following close behind. it’s silly - your 6’3”/~190cm Brit and behemoth 6’10”/~208cm Austrian boyfriends getting drenched while dancing with you. they’d happily make fools out of themselves to see you smile - your laughter echoing down the street

it’s hard taking turns dancing with them, it ends in a pissing contest over who the better dance partner is König, sorry Simon. four hands pulling you every which way - they’re constantly moving, from your hips and waist, over your hands and tracing up your arms

it’s not long before you three rush back inside - the sky clearing up, your shoes damp and their masks soaked. the moods light as everyone dries off, clothes shrugged off in exchange for loungewear

they could definitely be convinced to dance with you again

[ssailormoonn]

❛ REPUTATION ❜

YANDERE!Chrollo Lucilfer X Fem!Reader

WC; 900+ | !MDNI! | TW/CW :: chrollo is a yandere here, well he def ats like one, fem!reader, virgin!reader, AGE GAP, gonna say reader is around 18-20 bc she a virgin and a good girl, chrollo is still 26, possessiveness, claiming + more

⋆·˚ ༘ * REQUEST :: (filled request) Hi! Could you please write with yandere Chrollo and virgin female reader(she likes him, but didn’t want to be with him because of his reputation) - ANON

HONEY'S A/NOTE :: I WAS FEELING DIFFERENT DONT MIND THE PINK/PEACH THEME LMAO, lmk if you like it tho 👀

m.list | hxh m.list

You knew this was a mistake the moment you caught his eye.

Chrollo Lucilfer was the type of man who commanded attention. He's dark, unreadable, and dangerous. You'd been warned by friends, by acquaintances, by common sense to steer clear of him. None of them knew that he was the leader of the Phantom troupe, but they could tell that something was up with him.

You, on the other hand, knew very well who he was. He had made it loud and clear that should you ever leave or do anything rash, Chrollo was in a position to threaten you with all he could do. Every time being on duty with him, fear always boiled up inside your stomach.

But the fear that was evident within you, there was just something so irresistible about him, something that couldn't make you stay away no matter how much you did. Chrollo's presence causes your heart to beat in ways that it really shouldn't. You, however, because of his reputation, are to be kept from him.

But standing now in this darkened room, boxed in by his stare, one knew there was no more escaping Chrollo.

Not anymore.

"I know what you're thinking," his voice is like silk. "You're afraid of me, you think you can keep your distance because of what you've heard. But you forget one thing."

He leans in closer, each movement intentional. His dark eyes never left yours, staring with an intensity that would make you want to shrink under his gaze, at the same time you wouldn't be able to look away.

"You want me, too."

Your breath had caught in your throat. How could he know? You'd tried so hard to conceal it, to deny the pull you felt whenever you were near him. It was wrong, all wrong. But his tone made it sound as though you had no say in the matter.

"Chrollo, I... I can't." Your voice less than a whisper. "You're dangerous. I don't want to get involved in. whatever this is. whatever you do."

He reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from your face, and the touch sent your heart racing even faster. You suck in the air shakily while your lip trembled softly.

"I know that's hard to accept," he whispered, almost softly. "But I've made my decision already. You are mine. "

There was a finality in his words that dropped the bottom of your stomach into a sick feeling. This wasn't a silly love confession, this... this was more like he was claiming you. And much as you tried to deny it, the thought stirred something within you.

"Chrollo, I... I am not." You had managed to stammer out the words while a hot fire had burned in your cheeks.

How would you even explain that you have never been with anybody in your life? That part of you does want him, but the fear of his world and your inexperience holds you back? You have never done a relationship in your life, never kissed anyone, never touched anyone, never had sex.

His fingers tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze once more. Something... changed in his gaze.

"You're scared of what you don't know," he whispered. "That's okay. I can be patient. But don't you ever think otherwise. I will have you. Every piece of you."

His hand slid down, stroking your jawline, and a chill ran down your body. There was no hesitation in his touch, no doubt in his claim over you. It was terrifying and yet you enjoyed it.

"You can run from me if you want," he said, continuing now in a voice so much lower it terrified you. "But I'll find you. Always get what I want."

Your chest constricted as Chrollo left you no choice. He made it clear no matter what you did, he would find you and when he did. he would take you in every sense of the word.

"I. I don't want to be a part of your world," you finally stammered out, beyond your shaking lips. "I can't."

He chuckled low and it was a shiver you felt run over your skin under his touch. "It doesn't matter. You're already a part of it. The moment I laid eyes on you, it was over. For both of us."

You opened your mouth to protest, but the words died in your throat as he leaned in, his lips caressing the shell of your ear.

"Accept it, love," he whispered. "You can't get away from me. Not now, not ever." "N-" Chrollo cut you off, his lips trailing up your neck, his voice low, humming against your skin. "You don't struggle against me. I'm going to take care of you. No one else can have you now. Can't you see? You're already mine, and nothing you say will change that."

His breathing was hot against your skin, the weakness rising inside you as the fear coiled in your body. But despite that, despite all you knew of him, the fact that he wanted you with such intent sent your heart racing within your chest.

Honestly, could you resist?

He drew back just enough to look into your eyes, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. He knew. Your gaze betrayed your thoughts, and he noticed, of course he fucking noticed.

"You're mine," he leans down, his warm breath dancing across your ear as your hands clench into fists against his black suit, trembling. "And I will make sure you never forget it."

Do not copy, steal, modify, etc. Relogs and like are appreciated.

m.list | hxh m.list

[natashaslesbian]

Another Mother | Part 3

Scarlett helps you out when you start to get sick, she hopes you’re getting closer until your dad tells you he’s needed back at work. All you truly want is your mother, not Scarlett

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings/Content: Sickness, Throwing up, Medication, One hint of non sexual nudity, One swear word

—————————————————————————

You followed slowly behind your dad into the living room, finding Scarlett already settled on the couch with a bowl of popcorn. “Hey you two” Scarlett smiled, a little too friendly for your liking, despite your earlier bonding time. “Did you apologise?” The blonde asked Colin “yeah” your dad nodded. “Good, now let’s watch a film, what’s your pick y/n?” Scarlett said as she adjusted her position on the couch, hoping you would join her. She was slightly disappointed when you took a seat on the spare armchair beside the expensive looking couch, wiping at your suddenly stuffy nose “terminator 2” you said as you slumped down. “Oh one of my favs, nice pick” Scarlett said as Colin came and sat beside her. Your dad sighed as he got comfortable “guess I gotta get used to being outnumbered again” Colin smiled as he wrapped his arm around the blondes shoulders “looks like you girls are already ganging up on me” he joked. “We make a good team y/n” Scarlett smiled at you “we’re not a team” you coldly replied “just two people living under the same roof who happen to get on occasionally” you said with a croaky voice. You didn’t see it, but Scarlett smiled at your words. Even if it was only occasionally, she was happy to be getting on with you, it was a start.

Your eyes grew tired towards the end of the film, a small headache forming behind your eyes. The exhaustion due to your restless night soon lulled you into a comfortable doze. “I think someone’s ready for bed” Scarlett whispered when she saw your head slowly bobbing to the side. “Y/n, wakey wakey!” Your dad called, using that annoying voice which he thought was hilarious. Your brows furrowed as you shuffled slightly “Colin!” Scarlett groaned. “Sorry kiddo” he laughed “you tired? Why don’t you go take a nap before dinner?” He said. You sighed loudly as you sat up, rubbing at your sore eyes “no I’m good” you said. “You sure?” Colin asked worriedly, to which you nodded in response. “You do look a little pale y/n” Scarlett piped up. “God I’m fine! What do you care anyway?” You snapped as you stood from the chair, leaving heavy footsteps in the path of your exit. “Hey! What did I tell you about the attitude!” Your dad called after you. “Leave it honey, she doesn’t seem well” the blonde said, running her hand along Colin’s arm in what she hoped was a soothing manor. “She’s fine” he huffed.

You made it halfway up the stairs before a rough cough escaped your lungs, as if being home sick wasn’t enough, now you were getting actually sick. You finally made it to your bedroom, where you flopped down dramatically onto your bed. Being too tired to change, you rolled over into your stomach letting your heavy head hit the pillow. You slept through dinner, Colin left you to sleep when he came to check on you. You slept so deeply, it was morning the next time you opened your eyes. You whined as the morning sun hit your gaze, making your pounding headache ten times worse. You were slightly dazed, but still knew it was Monday, meaning you needed to get ready for school. You peeled back your duvet and began shivering despite the sweat running down your head. You somehow made it to the door quickly, ignoring the ache of your muscles in each step. When making your way to the bathroom, the haze behind your eyes caught up with you, sending you toppling down to your knees. The crash against the wall had your dad awake in seconds “y/n?” He said as he swung open his bedroom door.

You saw a hint of worry come over your dad as he ran towards you “are you alright kid?” He said as he began to help you up “god you’re boiling” he exclaimed, deciding it would be better to keep you sitting. An inquisitive blonde appeared in the doorway, also awoken by the noise “is everything alright?” She said. “You were right, I think she’s sick” Colin frowned as he held you in his arms. “M fine” you whined “gotta school go” you slurred. “No sweetie I don’t think you’re going to school today” your dad said “I…um…I’ll call them okay, and we’ll…we’ll get you feeling better in no time” he stuttered, slightly unsure of what to do “let’s get you back to bed” he said. “I think she needs a shower first” Scarlett said, still standing in the doorway. “What?” Colin said, looking up at her. The older woman came to rest the back of her hand on your forehead, you shuffled away when she came into contact with you, pulling a face of disgust. “She’s too warm, she needs a cold shower” the woman said. Colin’s face fell into shock “right…well uh” he mumbled. “I’ll do it” Scarlett said “if that’s okay with you” she asked as she placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, thrilled when you didn’t shrug her off. Your dad smiled at the offer from his fiancé “you go call her school” she smiled back “I don’t know the number” Colin said in defeat. “I’ll find it later” Scarlett said as she rolled her eyes.

You felt a pair of arms scooping you underneath your arms, gently lifting you away from the floor “ok sweetie, come on let’s get you in the shower” Scarlett said as she took on all of your weight. Being too dizzy to notice, you allowed yourself to be helped into the bathroom and deposited into the toilet lid. The running water caught your attention and you furiously rubbed at your eyes trying to regain your vision. “Hey try not to do that okay, you’ll make them sore” Scarlett said as she reached for your hands. “Leave me lone” you said as you saw a flash of blonde hair “don wan you” you grumbled. Scarlett was getting used to your standoffish attitude, so she didn’t take your words to heart. “I know you don’t y/n but you need a shower and I don’t think you can do it yourself right now” she said as she checked the temperature of the water. Satisfied that it was cool enough, Scarlett began peeling away the shirt stuck to your skin “we’ll keep your underwear on okay but I need to take your shorts off too” she said soothingly. Despite your best ideas, you allowed the blonde to help you stand and step out of your shorts as they pooled at your ankles. “‘S cold” you groaned as you stepped underneath the water. “I know sweetheart but we gotta cool you down” Scarlett said as she helped you to sit in the tub.

You whined as more of your skin came into contact with the cold water, Scarlett gently shushed you as she helped you to settle against the tiles. You didn’t put up much of a fight once your body was supported by the tiles and Scarlett took the opportunity to search for your schools phone number. Once she found it, the actress poked her head out of the bathroom door and called for her fiancé. “I got the schools number” she said as Colin climbed the last few steps. “Thank you baby, is she okay?” he asked as he typed the number into his own phone. “She’s only just got in but it should cool her down a bit. I’m guessing Marie used to take care of this kinda stuff?” Scarlett questioned. Colin smiled at the mention of his late wife “yeah she did” he said, reliving all the times you would be napping with your mother when you had a cold. “Why don’t you go make her some breakfast, she needs to eat before we give her some medicine” Scarlett said as she held Colin’s hand lovingly “okay yeah” your dad sighed as he ran back down the staircase, still in his panicked state at your sudden sickness.

Scarlett returned to the side of the bath and leant over to gauge your temperature, she was delighted when you felt much cooler than before. “Okay let’s get you out sweetie” she said as she reached for a fluffy towel. “No tired” you mumbled through the droplets of the water “thought you said it was too cold?” Scarlett smirked as she helped you to stand up again. “Don wan your help if you jus gon make fun of me” you argued, your anger a stark juxtaposition to the grip you had on her arms. “Sorry baby” Scarlett said, the nickname sliding off her tongue so naturally. You grimaced in annoyance at her affection but allowed her to help you back to your bedroom nonetheless. “Sit tight okay, I’ll grab you some fresh clothes” the blonde said as she sat you on your bed “I feel sick” you groaned as you wrapped your arms around your bubbling stomach. Scarlett took notice of your movements and hurried across the room to place your bin underneath your chin. On cue, the small contents of your stomach came out, it was mostly acid considering you hadn’t eaten in almost 15 hours. “Alright sweetie, it’s okay, let it all out” Scarlett cooed as she ran her hands along your back. You pulled back when you were done, avoiding the bin as you moved your head forwards to rest on the blondes frame. She placed the metal can back on the floor and gently soothed the skin of your arms. “I…I need to get dressed” you stuttered as you slowly pushed Scarlett away, feeling guilty for relying on her so heavily. “Do you want some help” Scarlett asked. “No, I can do it” you said as you pushed yourself to your feet and turned your back to the older woman, ending the conversation.

Scarlett waited just outside your door while you pulled your clothes back onto your cooler body. Colin came rising back up the stairs with a tray of fever friendly food. “Hey, she’s just getting dressed” the blonde said as she leaned over the tray to give her fiancé a kiss. “Okay hunny, thanks for looking after her” Colin said “I made her soup and a few slices of toast” he sighed as he held out the tray, wishing you could get better quickly, he hated to see you like this. “That should settle her stomach a bit, she threw up” Scarlett frowned, also hating to see you like this. “Oh god okay, I’ll see if I can get the rest of the week off work, I’m due back tomorrow” Colin said. He placed the tray on the hallway table and pulled out his phone to call his boss when a small whimper came from your bedroom. “Scarlett?” You called out “yeah sweetheart” the blonde replied leaning gently against the door. “I think I need some help getting dressed” you muttered “okay I’m coming in” Scarlett said as she picked up the tray of food for you “I got her” she nodded to your father. Scarlett couldn’t help the pitying whine that escaped her when she came back into your room. You were half sitting on the bed and half sitting on the floor, you’d managed to dress your lower half but when trying to put a loose sports bra over your head, you failed tremendously. The older woman kept her eyes above your shoulders as she helped to pull the bra over your chest, when you were covered she grabbed the large shirt she had laid out and helped you to slip into it. “Thank you” you whispered, “don’t mention it sweetie.

You climbed back into bed as Scarlett carried over the food your dad had prepared “‘M not hungry” you whined as she set it down on your lap. “You need to eat y/n, you’ll feel better I promise. And after your done we’ll get some medicine in you then you can sleep okay” Scarlett said, unconsciously leaning forward to brush away a loose strand of your hair. You continued to moan in disagreement but soon you had finished the whole meal, you felt a little bitter though you were definitely not going to tell Scarlett she was right. Your dad stopped by as you were finishing up, arms full of medication as he wasn’t sure which ones you needed. You and Scarlett both chuckled as his frantic state “give it here” she blonde rolled her eyes and reached for the basket. “How are you feeling pumpkin?” Colin asked as he rested a hand on your forehead “sleepy” you whispered “we’ll get you tucked in soon I promise” he cooed. Scarlett found what medicine you needed and helped you to swallow it, despite your unwillingness. She stood back as her fiancé helped to soothe you to sleep “get some sleep” Colin said as he switched off your overhead light, leaving you to rest. “I can’t get the week off” your dad sighed as he closed you bedroom door “they’re behind on scripts for the sketches I gotta go in” he sighed. “She’ll understand baby” Scarlett said as held Colin’s hand tightly “and I’ll be here to look after her” she said. “I know it’s just, her mom used to watch her when she was sick, or on school holidays, practically all the time cause I was at work. I thought I would finally have a chance to be there for her” Colin frowned. “She knows that you love her CJ, and she knows that you’re always gonna be there for her, wherever you are” the blonde said as she brushed his cheeks in her hands. “Come on, I think we have time for our own breakfast while she sleeps” Scarlett smiled as she lead her fiancé back down to the living room.

The pair kept a close eye on you for the rest of the day, although you slept for most of it. Despite your sickness, Scarlett and Colin used this time to spend together, basking in each other’s comfort. You were awake now and enjoying a sit com in the silence of your room. The medicine was beginning to ware off and you felt the same bubbling in your stomach return from earlier. Colin shot up from his desk when he heard the retching coming from upstairs, he jumped into action as he ran up to you followed by Scarlett. The door swung open to reveal you with your head over the bin once again “oh pumpkin” your dad cooed. “Daddy” you whined as she came to your side. The blonde also appeared behind you, pulling your hair into a loose ponytail to avoid it getting in the way. Colin nodded in thanks to his partner as he gently stroked your back “it’s alright kiddo” he soothed. When you were done, you leaned back against your dad in defeat. He didn’t waste a second as he scooped you up into his arm, bringing you back to your bed. You saw the look in his eyes, the one that meant he had something to tell you “you have to go to work tomorrow don’t you?” You quietly asked. “Yeah baby, I’m so sorry there’s nothing I can do” Colin said as he reached around your shoulders to hold you against himself. “Scarlett will be here though, she can look after you okay?” He said. You drew your gaze to the blonde standing at the foot of your bed. You wished your dad could be with you, the comfort of your mother was absent and now so would your father’s, Scarlett was the last person you wanted around right now. “Okay” you sighed in defeat. You supposed it could’ve been worse, and Scarlett had helped you out today. Whether or not you wanted to admit it.

You soon fell back asleep in your fathers arms, feeling comforted by his presence. You didn’t join him and Scarlett for dinner, your stomach not being able to hold anything. Nightfall soon came and you resorted to having a movie marathon having slept so much already. You were feeling worse than ever as you couldn’t take any of the medication on an empty stomach, but you just couldn’t keep anything down, your tummy was constantly aching. It was around three am when you couldn’t hold back from stumbling over to the bin again. You had no concept of time and the world was going around in a blur. “Y/n?” You heard as you gently turned your head to the footsteps closing in. “Oh pumpkin” Colin sighed as he came to your side. “Dad” you whined as you leaned into him “what time is it?” You asked. “About 3” your father said. You glanced towards your window, seeing no light leaking through “am?” You said feeling guilty for waking him. “Go back to sleep daddy, you have work today” you said as you toyed with his necklace. “It’s okay baby don’t worry about me” Colin said as he too your face into his hands. “You’re gonna be tired” you frowned, your vision blurring slightly. “No, no sweetie it’s okay” your dad said as he helped you to stand.

“Come on let’s get you back to bed” Colin said as he supported your weight on the short walk back to your mattress. “I wanna go home” you said as water crept up behind your eyes. “You are home kiddo” your dad sighed as he began to tuck you back into bed. “I’ll never be home again, not without mom” you cried, thinking about your moms soft hands gently flowing through your long hair. “Pumpkin, you gotta let her go” Colin whispered. “What like you did” you snapped, sitting up with a sudden burst of energy. “You just let her go, moved on and forgot about her. You sold her house, drove in some new bimbo to replace her and just let her go!” You shouted, tears now streaming down your face. “Y/n” your dad sighed “it’s not heathy to keep holding on, she would want you to-“ he continued before you cut him off “don’t you dare say she’d want me to move on” you sobbed. Colin sat back in defeat as you flipped back down into bed, turning your back to him and pulling your stuffed bear close to your face. “Y/n” he whispered “just go dad. You’ve got work in a few hours. I’m not gonna be the reason you get fired for falling asleep at your desk” you muttered under your breath, shaking due to your small outburst and probably your once again rising temperature. “Scarlett’s here if you need anything” Colin said coldly as he headed off back to bed for a few extra hours. “Like fuck” you cursed.

—————————————————————————

A/N: Series Masterlist here<3

- Astara Bell

—————————————————————————

[Taglist]

@saraaahsstuff / @dannipotatoo / @tobiaslut / @nevaeh-daughterofvalcarol / @marvelnatasha12346 / @yelenasdiary / @mousetheorist / @ashadash0904 / @strange-night-owl / @kkreader78o / @hatergirl-69 / @asv-xx

[thirtysomethingloser92]

If you don't take requests that's so fine please ignore me but if you do can I request a plus size reader/ Gambit. I'm just feeling a little insecure today and i feel like he would be a thick person enjoyer. Thank you, you're my inspiration

My Darling I'm so sorry you're feeling like that today. I hope this cheers you up.

You stared at your reflection, frowning as you tugged at the hem of your shirt for the hundredth time. No matter how much you adjusted it, it still didn’t sit the way you wanted. The fabric clung to your stomach, revealing every curve and bump you didn’t want to see. Your jeans, which had once been your favorite pair, now felt too tight, pinching at your waist and making you feel like you were bursting out of them.

With a frustrated sigh, you yanked the shirt off entirely and tossed it onto the pile of rejected clothes on your bed. The mirror reflected your bare skin now, and you couldn’t help but notice the way your stomach rounded, the way your thighs touched, the fullness of your hips. All of it felt too much. Too much body, too much space, too much of everything.

You wrapped your arms around yourself, as if you could shrink away from your own reflection. It was one of those days where nothing felt right. The clothes that usually made you feel confident and comfortable now felt like costumes, ill-fitting and awkward. The little voice in the back of your mind, the one that whispered cruel things about your body, was louder than ever today.

"Why did I even agree to go out?" you thought, staring at the mess of clothes around you. Remy had asked you out earlier that day, suggesting a casual dinner in the city—just the two of you. He had looked so excited, flashing you that irresistible grin of his, and you had agreed without hesitation. But now, standing here in front of the mirror, you felt like it had been a mistake. You didn’t feel like yourself. You didn’t feel worthy.

Another sigh escaped your lips as you sat down heavily on the bed, burying your face in your hands. You loved being with Remy—he was charming, kind, and always made you laugh. But sometimes, it was hard to quiet the voice that told you he could do better. That he deserved someone who looked like the women he’d been with before—slender, toned, effortlessly beautiful.

A soft knock at your door pulled you from your thoughts.

"Chère, y' ready?" Remy’s voice was warm, but there was a hint of curiosity in it. "We gon' be late if y' don’t hurry."

You froze, your heart pounding in your chest. You didn’t want him to see you like this—not when you felt so exposed, so vulnerable. A part of you considered pretending to be sick, making up some excuse not to go. But you knew that wouldn’t fool him. Remy was too perceptive for that.

"I… I don’t think I’m going to go," you called out, your voice shaky despite your best efforts to sound casual. You hoped he’d drop it, that he’d understand without asking too many questions, "Maybe we can just do something here?"

There was a long pause, and for a moment you thought he might have walked away. But then the door creaked open, and Remy stepped inside. He shut the door behind him quietly, his eyes immediately scanning the room before settling on you. His brow furrowed slightly in concern.

"Now, what y' talkin' 'bout, chère?" he asked, his voice soft but firm. "Why y' don’t wanna go?"

You avoided his gaze, staring at the floor instead. "I’m just… not feeling up to it, that’s all."

Remy wasn’t a man easily fooled, and you could tell by the way he crossed the room to stand in front of you that he wasn’t buying your excuse. His eyes flickered to the pile of clothes on the bed, and then to the way you sat hunched over, arms crossed protectively over your body.

"Somethin's botherin' ya," he said quietly, crouching down so that he was on eye level with you. His red-on-black eyes, always so intense yet gentle, searched your face. "Talk t' me."

You swallowed hard, fighting back the tears that were threatening to spill over. You didn’t want to admit it. You didn’t want him to know how insecure you were feeling, how much you hated what you saw in the mirror today. But the weight of it all was too much to carry alone.

It had been building for a while, this gnawing pit of self-doubt that seemed to grow larger whenever you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. You couldn’t remember exactly when it started—maybe it had been creeping in for years, little comments here and there, comparisons to other women who seemed to glide through life effortlessly, their bodies molded to perfection. Or maybe it was something deeper, an old voice that had always lingered in the back of your mind, whispering that you weren’t enough.

And today, that voice was louder than ever.

Your chest felt tight, your throat constricting as you tried to hold it together. The last thing you wanted was for Remy to see this side of you—the side that felt small, fragile, and vulnerable. He was always so confident, so sure of himself, and you didn’t want to burden him with your insecurities. You didn’t want to be the one who cracked under the pressure of something as trivial as your reflection in the mirror.

But gods, it didn’t feel trivial. Not today.

Every time you looked at yourself, all you could see were the things you wished you could change. The way your clothes hugged your body a little too tightly, the way your stomach wasn’t flat, the way your thighs touched. It was as if every part of you was magnified, exaggerated, and you couldn’t escape it. You had tried—tried to brush it off, tried to focus on the things that you liked about yourself. But those thoughts were drowned out by the louder ones, the ones that told you that you weren’t enough. That no matter how hard you tried to convince yourself otherwise, you would never quite measure up.

And the worst part? Standing in front of Remy, with his eyes on you, you couldn’t shake the feeling that he must see it too. He had to. How could he not? He was gorgeous—dangerously handsome—with that smirk that could weaken knees, and a body that looked like it was sculpted by the gods themselves. He had been with women who were stunning, women who looked like they belonged on magazine covers, and here you were, feeling like you didn’t even belong in the same room.

The thought made your chest ache, the tears stinging behind your eyes. You didn’t want to cry in front of him. You didn’t want to break down and tell him how ugly you felt, how unworthy you felt. The shame of it was too heavy, too raw. But it was getting harder to hold it in, harder to pretend that everything was fine when it clearly wasn’t.

For a moment, there was silence between you. You couldn’t bring yourself to meet his gaze, your eyes fixed on the floor as if it could somehow swallow you up and save you from having to confront the truth. You could feel the weight of his eyes on you, though—steady, patient, waiting. Remy wasn’t the type to push if you weren’t ready to talk, but you knew him well enough to know that he wouldn’t let this go. Not when he could see how much it was hurting you.

And that was the thing—Remy always saw you. He saw you in ways that you sometimes wished he didn’t. He saw past the walls you tried to put up, past the bravado you sometimes used to hide your insecurities. He was always watching, always noticing the little things, the things you thought you were hiding so well. And that scared you, because it meant you couldn’t pretend with him. Not for long.

The silence stretched, thick and heavy in the air, and you felt the dam starting to crack. You didn’t want to say it. You didn’t want to admit how deeply the insecurities had burrowed into your heart, how much they weighed you down. But the burden of carrying it alone was suffocating, and Remy was standing there, waiting, offering you a lifeline without even saying a word.

"I…" Your voice broke, and you hated how small it sounded, how fragile. You took a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself, but the tears were dangerously close now, and you knew there was no holding them back. "I don’t feel good, Remy. With me."

It was such a simple sentence, but it felt like you had just ripped open your chest and laid bare everything you had been trying to hide. You could feel the tears gathering in the corners of your eyes now, and you quickly turned your face away, not wanting him to see. You hated how emotional you were getting over this, hated that you couldn’t just shake it off like you thought you should.

But you couldn’t. Not today.

You felt Remys hands on your thighs, his thumbs drawing small circles on the skin, the warmth of his presence wrapping around you like a protective shield. He didn’t say anything at first, and for a moment, you wondered if he even understood. Maybe he didn’t get it. Maybe he couldn’t. How could someone like him—so effortlessly confident, so sure of himself—understand what it felt like to look in the mirror and hate what you saw?

But then you felt his hand, warm and gentle, on your arm. His touch was so soft, so cautious, as if he knew exactly how fragile you were in that moment. He didn’t try to pull you into a hug or force you to look at him. He just crouched there, his fingers brushing lightly against your skin, grounding you with his presence.

"Chère," he said softly, his voice like a soothing balm. "I’m right here."

And that was all it took. The dam broke, and the tears spilled over, silent but heavy as they slid down your cheeks. You felt your shoulders shake with the effort of holding it all in, but it was too much. The weight of your insecurities, the fear of not being enough, the shame of feeling this way—it all came crashing down at once.

Remy didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. He just stayed close, his hand never leaving your arm, his presence a steady, unwavering comfort. He didn’t try to fix it or offer empty reassurances. He just let you be, let you feel what you needed to feel, and somehow, that made all the difference.

After a few moments, when the tears had slowed but the ache still lingered in your chest, you finally found your voice again, though it was shaky and weak.

"I just… I look in the mirror, and I don’t like what I see," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "I don’t… I don’t feel like I’m enough."

Saying it out loud felt like admitting a terrible secret, something you had been holding onto for too long. But the moment the words left your lips, a strange sense of relief washed over you. It was out now. The truth was out, and you couldn’t take it back.

You half-expected Remy to brush it off, to tell you that you were being ridiculous, that you were beautiful and didn’t need to feel this way. But instead, he was quiet for a moment, his hand still resting gently on your arm. Then, he stepped in front of you, his gaze soft and unwavering as he looked into your tear-filled eyes.

His brow furrowed even more, and he reached out to gently take your hands in his, uncrossing your arms. His touch was warm and reassuring. "What y' mean by dat, chère?"

You hesitated, biting your lip. The words felt heavy in your mouth, but you forced them out anyway. "I don’t look like the other women you’ve been with. I’m… bigger. And today, I just… I don’t feel good about it. I don’t feel good about me."

There. You said it. The ugly truth that had been gnawing at you all day. You braced yourself for his reaction, for him to say something dismissive or to tell you that you were overthinking it. But instead, Remy’s grip on your hands tightened slightly, and he pulled you gently to your feet.

"Come here, chère," he murmured, his voice soft as he wrapped his arms around you. He held you close, his chin resting on top of your head as he stroked your back soothingly. "I been waitin' t' say this for a while, but y’ve never given me the chance."

You blinked, surprised by the tenderness in his tone. "What do you mean?"

He pulled back slightly, just enough to look down into your eyes. His expression was serious, more serious than you were used to seeing on his face. "I don’t care 'bout that. I don’t care 'bout what other people think. Y' beautiful, cherie, jus' the way y' are. And I need y' to believe that."

You opened your mouth to protest, to tell him that he didn’t understand, that it wasn’t that simple. But he silenced you by placing a finger against your lips, his eyes soft but unwavering.

"I know y' don’t always see it, but I do," he continued, his voice low and sincere. "Y' think I’m wit' y' because I want someone who looks like everybody else? Non, chère. I’m wit' y' because y' one of a kind. Ain’t nobody else like y', and that’s what I love 'bout y'."

Tears welled up in your eyes again, but this time they weren’t from sadness. They were from the overwhelming warmth of his words, from the realization that he truly, deeply meant what he was saying. You had always known Remy was kind and compassionate, but hearing him say these things to you, looking at you like you were the most precious thing in the world, made your heart ache in the best way.

"But I don’t always feel beautiful," you admitted, your voice shaky. "I don’t always feel like I’m enough."

Remy’s expression softened even more, and he cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs gently brushing away the tears that had fallen. "Then let me remind y', every day if I have to. I’ll tell y' a thousand times if that’s what it takes. Because y' are enough. Always have been, always will be."

You let out a shaky breath, leaning into his touch. His words wrapped around you like a warm blanket, soothing the raw edges of your insecurities. It wasn’t as simple as snapping your fingers and feeling better, but with Remy’s arms around you, it felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders.

"You’re too good to me," you whispered, resting your forehead against his chest.

"No, chère," he murmured against your hair, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "I’m jus' tellin' y' the truth."

For a moment, you stayed like that, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world outside your room fading away. Remy’s presence was so grounding, so steady, that you felt the storm inside you begin to calm. The insecurities were still there, lingering in the background, but they didn’t feel as loud anymore. Not with him here, reminding you that you were more than enough.

After a while, Remy pulled back just enough to look down at you again, his signature roguish grin returning to his face. "Now, how 'bout we go out, eh? I promise y' gon' have a good time. An' if not, we can come right back home, no questions asked."

You managed a small smile, the warmth of his words still lingering in your chest. "Okay," you said quietly. "Let’s go."

Remy’s grin widened, victorious but gentle. "That’s my girl." He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before stepping back and grabbing his coat from the chair. "An' for the record, chère, y' look damn good."

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t fight the smile that tugged at your lips. "You’re unbelievable."

"Maybe," he winked, shrugging on his coat with a flourish.

As you followed him out the door, hand in hand, you couldn’t shake the warmth that spread through your chest. The insecurities were still there, lingering at the edges of your mind, but they didn’t feel as overwhelming anymore. Not with Remy by your side, reminding you that you didn’t have to be anyone else. You were enough, just as you were—and that was more than enough for him.

[allieslittlewritings]

*not my gif <3

Spencer Reid x daughter!reader

Sick Day

Summary: Reader has a cold and Spencer takes care of her

Warnings: Mild sickness, none that I know of

Word Count: ~1.1k

Dread filled your stomach when you woke up and felt the annoyingly familiar feeling of a sore throat and blocked nose.

You tiredly looked at the time on your phone and saw that you were almost late for school.

Begrudgingly, you got out of bed and started to get ready, doing your best to ignore your worsening sickness.

You heard your dad knock on your door and mentally prepared yourself to pretend to be fine.

Spencer was always incredibly attentive when you were sick, sometimes overly so.

Usually it was comforting and nice, but right now you just needed to get ready so you wouldn't be late for school.

You didn't fully register that you hadn't actually said anything yet.

"Sweetheart? Can I come in?" Spencer asked.

"Yes." You prayed he couldn't hear the difference in your voice from your stuffy nose.

He opened your door and entered your room, a plate of food in hand, "I know you're almost late but I made you some breakfast."

He put the plate down on your desk and noticed your frazzled behavior.

Your bed was still unmade. A few random items of clothing were thrown here and there, presumably from when you got dressed, and he noticed the frantic way you tried to make sure you had everything you needed.

"Are you okay? Did you oversleep?"

"Uh, yeah, apparently." You grabbed your hairbrush and started trying to make your hair look more presentable.

It was apparently one of those days where your hair would just not comply.

Spencer saw your breathing get heavier, a tell-tale sign that you were getting frustrated.

"Your hair looks fine," he remarked.

"Fine isn't good enough," you grumbled in response.

Your preoccupation with your hair meant you didn't see the way his eyes narrowed as he studied you a little closer.

It was nearly impossible for you to hide things from him, with his mixture of parental instincts and profiling skills.

"Are you sure you're okay?" It was honestly kind of a trick question, he could tell you weren't.

You swallowed less often than usual, an indication of a sore throat. Your breathing was quiet, and less frequent. And he could in fact hear the tiny change in your voice. He saw the way you paused to think about every little thing, like everything you did took a lot of effort.

You also showed no indication of being about to eat the food he brought you, your tastebuds tended to get weird when you were sick.

"I'm fine." A harshness you rarely displayed was evident in your tone of voice.

"Sweetie, I can tell you're sick," Spencer finally said.

"I'm not sick," you insisted.

"Yes, you are," he said more sternly.

"Why didn't you just tell me, sweetheart?" he asked gentler.

"Why would it matter?" You started heading to the door but your dad stopped you by lightly holding your shoulder.

"You can't go to school if you're sick, you need to rest."

"I'll be fine, just let me go." You shrugged his hand off of your shoulder in annoyance.

"Baby, I'm serious. If you force yourself to go out and sit through hours of school, you'll make your health worse, and you could get other kids sick."

You frustratedly looked at him. "I'm fine," you repeated.

"Come on, odds are you already know everything your teachers would say. And it's Friday, you'll probably be better by Monday."

He wasn't wrong.

But you had it so ingrained in your head that you couldn't miss a day of school. You couldn't honestly explain why.

Spencer was well aware of that thinking pattern of yours, but your health and wellbeing would always matter more.

He noticed you pondering it in your head.

"I don't have work today," he reminded you. "We can have a nice, relaxed day together, it'll be fun."

"Okay," you finally agreed.

Spencer breathed a sigh of relief. "I'm gonna call the school quickly to let them know you're not going."

Hearing that phrase left a bad taste in your mouth, but you also felt a weight lift from your shoulders knowing you could just rest.

You put your backpack down and got changed into comfier clothes again.

Spencer came back to your room after calling your school.

"I can make you something else to eat if you don't want to eat that." Spencer gestured to your still untouched plate.

You looked over at the food. "I don't want to be wasteful." You looked back at your dad with a twinge of guilt in your expression.

"You won't be, I'll eat it," Spencer assured you.

You nodded your head, not wanting to talk more because of your sore throat.

Spencer picked up the plate from your desk and started exiting your room, with you following behind him.

He made you food that was more appealing to your taste buds at the time and then you both settled comfortably on the couch.

Spencer grabbed a blanket for you and some tissues for your nose.

He let you pick a movie to watch. Unsurprisingly, it was the same one you always wanted to watch.

He didn't mind. Although it wasn't exactly his favorite movie, it was yours. Which automatically meant he loved it, too.

It made him happy to see the awe in your eyes everytime you watched it. The way you quietly mouthed the lines to yourself.

Spencer took your empty plate to the kitchen and came back with some medicine and a glass of water for you.

You quickly drank it and then turned on your favorite show.

While you watched your show, Spencer made your favorite kind of soup. Also the only type of soup he knew how to make.

You ate in silence, except for a few chuckles every now and then at the series you were watching.

Spencer read for a while after you both finished eating, seeing as he'd already watched every episode of your favorite show at least twice, and could recite almost all of them word for word.

You finished the last episode of the season you were on and just sat in silence for a minute.

The sun set and Spencer turned on a few lights before going back to his book.

"Dad?" You said quietly.

"Mhm?" Spencer hummed in response, turning a page.

"Can you read to me, please?"

A soft smile graced Spencer's face, "Of course I can. Anything specific you want me to read?"

You sat up slowly and shook your head.

Spencer held one of his arms open and waited for you to lay down on his chest.

He gently stroked your arm and pulled the blanket further up your body.

Although you didn't care much about the topic of his book, hearing his voice was soothing.

"Dad?" You interrupted him after a bit.

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"Thank you for taking care of me," you mumbled sleepily.

"You're welcome, sweetheart. That's what I'm here for."

"I love you," you said quietly, cuddling into him further.

"I love you, too."

Your tired eyes finally shut and you fell asleep.

Spencer let you sleep for a while before eventually picking you up and putting you in your bed.

Sick days weren't so terrible when you got to spend them with your dad.

fin. ♡

[slymanner]

Sonic x shadow generation's story trailer spoilers

I'm sick to my stomach the fact shadow and maria just IMMEDIATELY felt each other's energy from MILES AWAY GUY'S IM GONNA CRYYYYY

THE FACT THEY BOTH IMMEDIATELY KNEW EVEN WITHOUT BEING NEAR EACH OTHER THIS MAKES ME WANNA THROW UP ITS THAT SIBLING BONDDDDDD

[bidisasterevankinard]

so hard to choose from all these wips but pls gimme some of:

🔄🔄🔄

❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

📝📝📝📝📝

👨‍🍳👨‍🍳👨‍🍳👨‍🍳👨‍🍳

yeah months after but I finally got toanswer it (I'm sorry <333)

9 from 7x4 reverse with Sal:

“So, how was football?” Tommy aims for feigned disinterest, missing some lightness in tone for it to be believable, but Sal just drugs and smiles.

“It was fine. Kid got us good tickets. And it was cool to watch the game with someone who doesn’t moan every second about how bored he is.”

“Hey, I don’t moan!”

“Yeah, you're right. You whine like a baby who wants cuddles from their mama.”

“I don’t whine,” whines Tommy and on Sal’s smirk and a raised eyebrow answers with silence, changing the tactic.

9+ for break up and make up after 7s au:

“And then Sal …” when Evan says the name it’s like the lever inside his mind is yanked down and his brain is off. Evan’s voice is around him but he hears nothing. It’s like the headphones are put on him and he can make some outside noise, but not enough to actually comprehend anything. He just sits there, passing his food, not in the mood to eat. His stomach feels too easy to make sick.

“..my! Tommy!” the louder when before voice and the touch of his shoulder makes him jump in his seat and Evan takes his hand away. “Sorry, you just weren't answering me and I asked if you wanted to come to my place or you wanted me to come to yours as you seem pretty tired,” Evan smirks, but his usual playfulness and Tommy tries to answer but big blue eyes go sadder.

He guesses he didn’t fool Evan.

“Sorry, Evan, I’m really tired and have a headache. Want to be alone. If it’s ok?”

15 for Justin knows best:

“From what I saw he was,” Mr. Russo’s voice answers, “he was almost eye fucking you during renovations.”

“I’m sure he did it not to me, but to Eddie. Or should I remind you that it’s him he took to Vegas and I’ve got only one Harbor tour that I asked about.”

Justin nods to sadness in Mr.B voice feeling the anger on his uncle and Mr.Diaz getting higher. They broke his perfect plan and made Mr. B sad.

“First, Eddie was on the other side of the room and those big blue eyes were still taking off your tank top and shorts. Second, I remember about Vegas. You were mopping about it a lot recently,” Mr. Russo listed. “Maybe it was just a friendly fly? I mean they watched a fight together. If you ask me I’d fight a guy who takes me to a fight as a first date because I hate it. And you too.”

“Yeah, I thought it too,” Mr. says and then he somehow gets sadder, “but it wasn’t only Vegas. They also worked over Eddie’s Chavele. And yesterday they went to Karaoke trivia together. And Eddie asked me to babysit,” Mr. B whines the last sentence and Justin sees red. 

and 15 for second part on I wanna dance with you universe

“What is it?” Evan asks and Tommy shrugs, giving him a playful look, and waits for him to open the box, loving the laugh Evan makes when he reads the custom inscription.

Still laughing, Evan takes the bright pink apron out and turns it so that Tommy can read it, bold black lettering makes him smirk again.

He’s my favorite housewife

“So you want me as your housewife?” Evan asks.

“Do you like it,” Tommy ignores the question.

“I like the color and the title but only if it’s a joke. Because if it’s not, it's like a huge red flag and I’m gonna run from here right now.”

Tommy hugs the perfect waist, kissing the neck, loving the shiver that goes over Evan’s body, “just a joke, baby of course. And now as far as I remember,” Tommy nuzzles into Evan's neck, biting it, “I was promised that if I'll buy you apron you love, I can fuck you in it. Only in it,” Tommy whispers in Evan’s ear and  bites the skin right near it.

“I-I did say it, didn’t I?” Evan puts his hand in his hair pushing his head till their lips meet.

Using his body weight Tommy pushes his boyfriend till he’s near the counter and then sits him there, not breaking the kiss, with pleasure swallowing the moan Evan makes.

Ending the kiss Tommy gets back to working on Evan’s neck, while his boyfriend unbuttons his shirt.

[girlwtdragontattoo]

In your debt - Part 3

Young Halsin x Reader

Art belongs to @ozumii-fucking-wizard, I also used their Young Halsin headcanon list as a reference :) i love the idea of him being a bit hotheaded in his younger years hehe

Find Part 1 and Part 2 here.

Slow burn, sorry. But the next part will get spicy, I promise. >:D

Song in this fic:

Warning: Swearing

-----

You awoke on a huge matt, covered in a thick quilt. Your eyes adjusted to the dim light as you scanned your surroundings. You were staring at a large tent peak above you, which swayed sleepily in the wind. You turned your head slightly, examining the area further. Smoldering embers cracked softly in the middle of the room, with various tiny cushions placed around it. A kettle peeped, hovering above the low fire, green steam escaping its mouth. Adorning the tent were many little trinkets: dreamcatchers, windchimes, wooden toys and engraved clay pots decorated the walls and small shelves. The ground looked slightly sandy next to you, furthering the softness of your position. The matt was far too big for you, so was the quilt. You looked like a little mouse had sneaked into the cat’s bed.

You noticed a stinging sensation and remembered what happened with the goblin.

Your hands drifted under the covers to your pulsating side. A thick piece of rough fabric met your fingers and as you pawed along carefully, you realized it was bandaging. The pain was dull, but made its evil presence known.

That’s right. You were with Halsin. In his village.

You had no idea what else the dreamy druid had done while you were knocked out. You must’ve looked like a corpse.

You noticed you were wearing different clothes. This long sleeve tunic wasn’t yours and neither were the wide pants you spied while lifting the covers.

Had he…had he changed you? You blushed at the thought.

Had he seen you naked???

You attempted to sit up, quickly, which turned out to be a mistake. Deciding to prop yourself up carefully, you hovered over your unwounded side, relying on the strength of your arm. You eyed the large mug of water close to you, bringing it hastily to your dry lips.

It tasted so clean. You realized how gross the water really was back in the city.

You finished the water in a few gulps and placed the mug back where you found it.

Just then, your ears picked up a distant conversation. The voices were agitated. You weren’t able to get up and walk towards the entrance, so you strained your ears to listen carefully.

You recognized Halsin’s voice, who sounded exceedingly frustrated.

“So, your solution is just to ignore the looming threat? How on earth can you be so thick?”, he growled at an unknown male speaker.

“That is no tone to take with me, novice. You’re in no position to question my decision”, the other man answered, his tone so low it made the hairs on your arm stand up. Who was this?

You heard repetitive, thudding footsteps. It sounded like someone angrily pacing.

Halsin spoke again, his intonation louder than before: “If they tried once, they will do so again. And with more devastation. More goblins! They want our children for some sick game and you would rather do nothing!”

“The only person making that claim is lying halfdead in your tent. You do not know them. I do not know them! I will not send a group towards certain death because a stranger made a groggy statement!”, the other man met Halsin’s tone, with warning etched within.

You felt your stomach drop. The terrified faces the children had made while Izick was fighting you flashed before you. You knew you were telling the truth, but how could they know that?

“Uncle, they are the reason our children are safely returned to us!” There was a slight pause and you heard him step towards the tent, perhaps pointing. “If they hadn’t intervened, the drow-“

“Silence!”, the man Halsin addressed as uncle bellowed, the echo reverberating through the area.

“I do not care what could or would have happened. I care about the facts of the situation. It was YOUR task to watch over them. And YOU left Zacharia alone so that you could feel like a hero. Zacharia’s death and the possible fate of your brothers’ and sisters’ is on your conscien-“

A mighty roar interrupted the uncle’s chastising. A second followed with thundering thuds and tremors. Slicing through the chaos, you heard an assertive, older woman’s command:

“ENOUGH! Halsin, Dafydd. Stop this nonsense!”

The vibration in the soil ceased slowly, with one still insisting on remaining.

“Halsin…!”, she threatened.

You felt the shaking of the earth stop, finally but reluctantly. With vicious pants from both of the arguing parties, you heard the woman speak once again:

“Halsin, go check on your patient. And you, Dafydd, go do something you deem important. We do not have time for pointless squabbles like this.”

A pause and finally a few grunts of agreement. You heard footsteps leaving and two sets walking towards your tent.

Why were you panicking? It was ok for you to be awake, right?

You hastily pulled the covers over half your face as you lay down a bit too bluntly.  You didn’t want them to know you were listening.

The tent flap slid open and you saw Halsin hold it open for the other person.

An older elf woman walked in, her long grey hair tied neatly in elaborate braids. She had exceedingly kind, hazel eyes that met yours with a soft twinkle. Her dark skin glistened with tiny drops of sweat. Her attire was rather casual, it looked like she spent a lot of time outside, judging by her sun kissed, wrinkly nose.

She smiled and you returned it carefully.

“Ah, so this is the savior”, her voice matched the one who had scolded the two men before. Halsin didn’t say anything, but grumpily stomped to the other side of the tent to grab a piece of wood. He started aggressively carving at it with a knife that looked too small for his hands.

The elf lady rolled her eyes and kneeled beside your head: “How are we feeling this morning, duckling?”

You cleared your throat, blinking a bit confused at the last word, but sat up slowly, while she helped you up: “Uh… I think… ok?”

Your words sounded unrecognizably hoarse.

The older elf conjured a gentle, yellow light from her palm and lay her hand on your shoulder. Closing her eyes, you felt a wonderous thrum from her touch.

“Mmh, yes. Healing slow but nicely”, she opened her eyes, winked at you and turned her head towards the tall druid, who was still chopping viciously at the tiny block of wood.  

“Good thinking with the ginkgo leaves, son. Their organs are healing quickly”, she kept her gaze fixed on him. He met her eyes briefly, let out a rough “Hm” as a response and continued shaving.

You looked at Halsin, too. His furious aura engulfed the entire tent. His brows were frowning so intensely that you could barely see his calming eyes. This was his mother? They looked nothing alike. And she was so much older.

The woman turned back to you, deciding to ignore the brewing giant in the corner.

“I’m Anwen, elder druid of the High Forest. I assume you know who the sulking moose over there is”, she gestured vaguely at Halsin, who grunted and continued whittling more aggressively.

You nodded, trying to stop yourself from laughing. The hissy fit was a bit comical coming from such a large man, but you understood where the anger came from.

“Y/N…” you lay a hand on your chest, indicating yourself. “Thank you for … uh…” you were looking down at the clean garb you were wearing.

Halsin blushed excessively in the corner of your eye, turning to face the tent wall.

Anwen grinned: “Well, well, now I know where my sleepwear went.”

You stared at her anxiously.

“Oh, don’t worry. You need it more than I do right now”, she placated.

Your eyes wandered to the back of Halsin’s head. You could see the blushing had increased. So, he had changed you…

“Duckling, I am beyond thankful that you came to my children’s aid. They all won’t stop talking about you and your rescue. I’m sure they’d be happy to meet you properly, once your strength allows”, Anwen tugged at your cover, pulling it over you more and forcing you to lie back down.

You obliged.

“Halsin tells me you overheard something from the goblins. Something about the children…”, she patted the cover close to your chest.

You explained what you had heard before you intervened. Elder Anwen listened intently, nodding along as you described the attire the goblins were wearing to the best of your ability. She thanked you kindly and exited the tent, addressing Halsin to join her in prayer at sundown. This left you alone with the handsome druid.

He finally placed his craft on the sideboard next to his carving knife, leaning against the board and letting out a deep, irked sigh. You didn’t know what to say, so you just watched him.

The silence lingered between you for a bit, when he finally turned to you and tried to smile.

“Sorry. I’m glad you’re doing better.” He approached the side of your matt and squatted down. “I should change your bandage…”

You nodded after realizing you had been staring at him for too long and pushed the cover off your upper half. Hesitating slightly, you lifted the tunic to reveal your nursed belly.

Halsin sat down on the sand and started taking the binding off carefully. You let out small hisses, as he pulled the adhesive off your wound. You saw leaves sticking to the side of the band that lay directly on the most sensitive area. These were presumably the ginkgo leaves Anwen had mentioned before. He grabbed the teapot from the fireplace and filled a goblet with steaming, green water.

You beheld his work in silence, as he dabbed a soaking cloth on your abdomen. He conjured more healing magic with his hands, which hovered over your belly for some time. The comforting humming of his incantation joined the low purring of the fire. The dull light of the tent danced across his face, which seemed absent and deep in thought.

“Thank you for…all of this...”, you cut through the quiet, realizing you hadn’t really thanked him for saving your life.

Your words seemed to snap him out of something. He blinked hard and turned his head towards you, as his hand floated above your stomach.

His smile grew warmer and your heart skipped a secret beat: “You needn’t thank me. It’s the least I can do.”

He returned his attention back to nursing you. Watching him work, you felt a gnawing in your throat that you couldn’t ignore any longer.

“… are you alright?”, You had been wanting to ask about the conversation you overheard since he walked in.

Halsin hesitated for a moment, his eyes flitting from your face to his hands.

“It’s nothing you should concern yourself with. You’ve done more than enough,” he murmured.

You thought about the words the other man, Dafydd, had chastised the young druid with. Halsin seemed to be struggling with immense guilt and a need to correct it.

You accepted his unsatisfying answer and let your eyes wander around the tent, as you heard Halsin sigh once more. You didn’t know each other. Why would he share his woes with you? You were just a useless bard that happened to stumble into an unfortunate situation.

You spent the next few days in his tent, having Anwen and Halsin visit you every hour to bring food, drink and give you healing sessions. You were feeling better every day, the throbbing pain slowly dissipating from your lower body. It got to the point, where you even forgot you were hurt to begin with.

Anwen told you stories about Halsin, whom she adopted as a young boy. Most of the stories were quite embarrassing and you enjoyed learning about his mischievous nature. He carried himself with immense grace whenever he was around you, but you secretly knew he had a massive fear of moths and used to hide in baskets or pots to avoid druid training. He grew more relaxed each passing day, as well, showing off his collection of wood carvings you’d been eyeing in the corner of the tent, realizing you were someone easy to speak to.

You left the tent from time to time, as well, and were allowed to join in meals and share stories with the rest of the villagers. The village had been damaged by the attack, but not by too much. The druids seemed organized enough to fix things swiftly. Everyone treated you kindly.

The children were enthralled with you. They had carved a new, albeit extremely creaky and sad-looking, lute for you as a thank you, which you accepted with warmth surrounding your heart. Their eyes stared up at you, adoringly, as you haphazardly played on your gifted “instrument”, the notes plunking out strained and harsh. Gods, it was ugly. But you loved it anyway.

You learned Dafydd was the archdruid of the High Forest and Anwen’s brother. He was a lanky, older, but tall elf with the same eyes as Anwen, yet lacking her kindness. He had an intense authoritative energy and barely smiled, only nodding to greet you when you joined the circle. The only person he truly listened to was his sister and he was extremely harsh with the rest of the novice druids whom he trained, especially Halsin.

The children begged you to join them in their barn one night, where you learned Halsin slept while you occupied his tent. They dragged you to the heaps of straw, showing off their own attempts at carvings. You spied a larger wooden object hiding under a thin, massive blanket. That was most likely where Halsin slept, judging by the size of the bedroll. You decided not to pry.

The kids requested you sing them to sleep, as the orange sunrays drifted through the small cracks in the wooden walls. They were all snuggled together, glittering eyes blinking expectedly up at you, as you sat on a large bundle of hay.

How could you say no to them?

You started humming softly, watching them curl up closer to each other and stare at you with their little faces. You thought back to a gentle lullaby you had thought of, while you were wandering through a small village, which had a tradition of burning old keepsakes, in order to release them to the spirit world. You had been writing it below the Oaktree you always visited in the High Forest.

You didn’t need an instrument to keep the rhythm going, as the music flowed from your lips naturally:

I smelt smoke

On the wheezing of the wind when I awoke

A pyre of memory

Some fly-tipped treasury

Out there burning slow

Dark soaked fields

And the snuffling wet noses at my heels

Suddenly hackles raise

At the crackling of the blaze

Out there burning slow

And sometimes I catch him

With his axe in

The shadow

So secretive and private,

But I’m breathing in his life when

He’s out there burning slow

You repeated the lines a few times, until you noticed every chest of the children moving slowly up and down in a sweet cadence.

You heard someone behind you and turned to see Halsin leaning against the open door, the dark night behind him, his arms crossed:

“Beautiful tune. Been long since I’ve heard it.”

You blinked at him in stunned silence. He had heard it before?

He chuckled, noticing your confusion: “I told you Thaniel is fond of you. He likes to sing me your songs. The children do, too. Now I’ve had the pleasure of hearing it from the origin’s mouth, as intended.”

“Oh, wow… I didn’t know a forest spirit liked music…”, you pondered that thought, wondering what this Thaniel being was. If he had been listening all this time, where had he been hiding himself while you played on the riverbank?

Halsin joined you, sitting down on the hay ball. The might of his body made your side move up a bit, leaving your legs to dangle. He watched the children sleep, with a permanent smile on his face.

“Aren’t they precious?”, he cooed and you nodded with a silent chuckle, as one ork boy snored gently.

“Oh wait, one moment!”, Halsin stood up and tiptoed to the large bedroll, pulling the woodwork from under the draping.

He hid it behind his back, which worked amazingly, since he was so wide.

“Close your eyes,” he grinned.

You complied and waited with a secret shortness of breath. He had made something for you?

“Open,” he purred, sweetly.

As you opened your eyes, you were met with a beautifully crafted lute. The wood had been engraved with lovely vines and flowers.

Your mouth dropped open.

Halsin hurriedly sat beside you again, the hay ball raising you once again, as he handed you the intricately constructed instrument. The feel of the soft oak gave you goosebumps and the redness in your face was impossible to hide.

The strings were firm and carefully strung into place. You plucked a few softly. It sounded heavenly.

“This- what- how- why-…” you couldn’t string a coherent sentence together. Halsin chuckled.

“The children told me you sacrificed your lute to save them. The one they made for you is ...cute... , but I thought you needed a proper one.”

You gaped at him. You had never gotten such a thoughtful gift in your entire life.

You felt tears bite your eyes, but you blinked them away.

“Gods…thank you Halsin…I- I don’t know what to say. It’s marvelous!”

His smiled widened: “It’s the least I can do, I’m in your debt, remember?”

You smiled back, gazing at the artwork.

Moments passed as you both watched the sleeping children quietly. Your heart was still racing from the tremendous gesture.

You felt Halsin’s shoulders tense up as his face collapsed into the thoughtful one you first encountered in the tent.

You gulped inaudibly and decided maybe now he would be more open to talking to you. You had this urge to soothe him, especially after receiving the lute.

“Are you still bothered by what the Archdruid said?”, the words just spilled out of you. You realized it would indicate you had overheard the conversation and your throat closed up. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to pry…” your hands fidgeted around the lute as you nervously babbled on.

Halsin let out a brief gust of air between his nostrils. He nodded a bit, unbothered by your question.

“It’s just…”, he stopped himself. You saw his hands tremor slightly, “Dafydd is such a…such a…”

Your brows furrowed in concern.

Halsin took another deep breath, calming his slight shaking: “I didn’t abandon Zacharia. He told me to go and help. He told me he would take the children to the thicket and hide. I didn’t know those damned goblins were tailing us.” The words tumbled out of him with quiet agony staining his intonation.

You sat up a bit straighter, put the lute down on the ground and turned more towards him, unsure what else to contribute, but offering your ear.

Halsin balled a fist, as he watched one of the girls turn over in her sleep.

“Dafydd won’t go after that filth that tried to steal them. Says it’s pointless and risky and hotheaded. But what if they come back? Perhaps with an army of drow instead of stupid goblins. What if they get their hands on them and…” You heard his knuckles crack as he flexed his fist more.

He realized what he was doing with his hand and released his grip.

“I have to do something. I can’t just sit by and hope for the best.” His eyes scanned the barn floor, then finally met your worried gaze. The jade hue sparkled in the moonlight. You buried the thought about how handsome he was, while you focused on his problem.

You let his words swirl in your mind for a while. You never had any contact with Lolth sworn drows, just the kind ones that had escaped that fanaticism to Baldur’s Gate. At least you assumed they were Lolth sworn, you didn’t know of any other drow group that would do such a thing.

You agreed with Halsin. It was a terrible threat and a danger for the children to have the sheer possibility of another kidnapping exist.

“The thought haunts me, too. So, I understand how you feel”, your voice was almost a whisper, in fear of waking the sleeping souls, “It’s a huge risk to let them conspire in the dark.”

Halsin nodded. He leaned forward, holding his weight on his legs with his elbows. 

He seemed to be at war with himself, unsure if he should tell you something. His eyes scanned you and you felt your body shake. A thought of what his lips tasted like invaded you, which you blinked away ashamedly.

Focus.

You attempted to hide your racy thoughts with a stupidly fake cough.

Halsin sat up again and bit his lip. Then he grabbed your hands and held them within his own. A brush of heat sizzled up your spine. He was so close to you.

“I’m going after them. I need a few nights to prepare, but then I’ll track those miscreants down. Frelma and Danan have agreed to come with me. Three is better than one. I have no idea if we’ll survive such an assault, but it’s better than sitting here and waiting for the next attack. We’re still concocting a plan. The drow are too dangerous to let live.”

His eyes bore into yours, a shred of relief after finally telling someone clouding them: “Please. Do not tell anyone, especially not Dafydd.”

You stared into his forest eyes, that quivered with anticipation at your response. You tried your absolute most not to lean in and clasp your lips in his, although every sinew within you yearned for it. Why was he so Gods-damn fine?

FOCUS.

“I’m coming with you.”

The phrase escaped from you. You couldn’t believe what you just said. Neither could the druid, who still held your hands gently.

He tilted his head, pacifyingly, his eyes softening sweetly: “You are braver than anyone I’ve ever met. But that would be quite foolish. No, you will stay here until you’re fully heale-.”

“I insist.”

OH MY GODS, SHUT UP.

Your insides were screaming at you, what the fuck were you thinking? What would you contribute? Battle music? You would only be in the way.

Halsin let out a soft laugh, lowering your hands but still holding onto them. He shook his head and gazed at you:

“You’re a fascinating person, truly. But I cannot allow you to-“

You released your hand from his grasp and held up a finger. An idea sparked within you. An extremely stupid idea.

“I know I can’t fight. But I can run.”

Halsin’s brow furrowed, waiting for an explanation.

[saltofmercury]

"A cycle"

Pairing: Jason Todd x f!reader

A/N: Originally was going to make it back to spring but I lost the energy. Also excuse the indent I lost my page break and could NOT insert it due to lack of patience!!!

Words: 2k

Summary: You meet Jason again... but he's a little off. Brief mention of AK! Jason.

It’s been roughly 10 years. 

—Almost 11 since you lost him. You remember his last words spoken, 

“I’ll see you… unless death comes first.”

Gloom had surrounded the city, it was supposed to be another normal day. But you started to get worried when he never called. Days trailed on and you assumed he stood you up. 

Your life is at a standstill, you missing your other half, your best friend. It isn’t until you get the news and the invitation to a funeral.

Death came first.

Days turn into months, years. 

The numbness never goes away, it just settles into your stomach, carefully simmering until it boils throughout your body, releasing—erupting emotion of him on the anniversary of his death.

Some days are harder than others and when you finally think you can go a day without thinking of 

“Unless death comes first—“

the universe throws you another curveball.

He arrives on a spring day, almost re-birthed and renewed. 

He stands at his gravesite. Taller and broader. Your stomach twists and bile rises up your throat. But you tell your brain it's not real, you manage to count the petals on the daisies you’re leaving.

You stare up at him again, the wind knocked out of you. He’s breathless and pale, staring back at you. He’s got scars all over his face—including the shape of a J under his eye. His t-shirt hangs low on his collarbones and you can see scarring there too. His hair is longer, almost touching his eyebrows. 

“I’ll see you in the morning.” He says stone faced.  His eyebrows are knit together. Hoping you remembered what he promised.

You’re frozen, almost sick to your stomach. Bile is prominent on your tongue and this hallucination has taken over.

He can tell you don't believe him and he grabs your hand and places it on his face.

“It’s me, I'm here. I’m still here.”

He’s so much taller than you remember. 

His face aged and his eyes have turned green. There’s a new white streak in his hair that is so prominent. 

And he scowls now. It's like his lips have permanently stayed down.

You never know what to say to him. Where to pick up where you left off. He follows you home, like a stray dog. Loyal to his core. Loyal to you at least.

He never tells you what he’s up to these days.

You do have a clue. 

It’s not rocket science to place him and the Arkham knight together. It’s almost impossible to walk at night without becoming a victim outside. You’ve caught a glimpse of the man that strikes fear all over the city.

It’s not Robin in that suit.

You never bring it up. Assumptions linger.

He tries to fall back into routine with you. He still sleeps on his side of the bed. He still makes your coffee in the morning. Rubs your back at night, and settles into the crook of your neck. But it never turns into anything more.

When you bring up what you guys are, he shrugs it off, plays dumb. 

Did he come back worse? Or are you just sensitive?

There’s a time you remember when all he wanted was to be called your boyfriend. Say it loud, hold hands in public. But even then there were rules. It was kept a secret just between you two.

Now there’s a protectiveness to him, he’s sealed off from you. Tells you —

“We’re good at this. We’re good friends.” But even he doesn’t mean it.

Jason doesn’t want you to know what happened to him. He despises pity. He should’ve told you where he was going that night. He should’ve left a tracker with you.

It’s been years and the minute he was revived from the pit his brain told him Bruce but his heart told him to come back to you.

The pit also intensified his anger. He’s angry at the world. Angry that he’s been placed in this piece of shit city where the same criminals and sociopaths linger around every corner. Shit, he died a couple years, came back, and these same criminals are still here.

Nothing changes in this city. So maybe it’s time he changes it himself.

There's broken walls and broken dishes every time you come home. You think about leaving but he switches up. It's a sick game of hot and cold.

The days are longer and warmer now. There’s a humidity that surrounds the city and sunsets take your breath away. You come home exhausted from work. Your phone pings nonstop, your head pounding, cars and people outside your window are blaring.

He can sense your anxiousness. Your body language is limp. He can watch you chew your lip until it’s bright pink. He walks towards you grabbing your body with both arms towering over you.

“How about we sneak off, just you and me?”

He says with such intensity in his eyes that you feel the heat boil thick inside your stomach. 

He cowards you in until your back hits the wall. The coolness of it gives you goosebumps. He grabs your chin and then runs his hand down your hair, twisting at the ends.

“What do you say?” He says again, a little more agitated that he needs to convince you. 11 years ago you would’ve just said yes.

And maybe this time you’ll say yes…

“Where would we go?” 

“Anywhere that’s not here.”

He’s so certain you’ll say yes. He’s already thinking of setting this entire city on fire and restarting a life with you. A life where you don’t beat around the bush and you come home with a smile for him.

But you don’t. It’s not enough for you. There’s so much tension in the room. You say you need a bath and a nap.

He lets you go instantly, walking towards the balcony and slamming the sliding door.

You don’t even know him anymore. You dance around each other.

On the balcony he takes 3 deep breaths, then another 2, then another 4 until he realizes he’s on the verge of tears and he wishes he could just tell you the shit that’s in his head.

He sees how you eye him, nervous and on edge. He barely takes his shirt off around you because the thought of his autopsy scar disgusts him and he can’t have you be disgusted with him.

There’s so much hate in his heart. There’s so much violence that he beats the shit out of his henchmen and resorts to putting bullets on anyone he can’t trust.

He hears the water running when he enters the living room again. There are sobs coming from the bathroom and now he feels even worse.

He came back a monster.

Splashes of orange and red surround the skyline. Temperatures drop and the leaves crunch beneath you. You’re both home tonight. You’re so happy. The luxury of being in his presence at this hour. He tells you he can take a day off for his girl.

His girl. 

The nickname raises goosebumps on your arm to your shoulders. He’s changed a bit. He stays home more. Doesn’t leave you hanging as much.

After some take-out, you sit on the couch deciding to pick a movie. One of his hands curls up your spine to the nape of your neck, as the other scrolls down the movie list. His fingers play with the loose hair that won’t fit into your bun.

He knows you hate it. Especially when he starts to call it a little rat tail.

You peer over at him, slightly nervous. He knows what you’re going to say, but before you even open your mouth he cuts you off—

"What? I like it." 

His head inches closer to your neck, placing small kisses down your earlobe to your collarbone. The prickles of your skin now rise over your chest. 

“And I know you like it too.” He taunts into your ear. He’s pushing you back towards the couch, peeling your legs open with one of his. Both arms are above you, enclosing you.

His lips graze yours, you can smell the sweetness of the strawberry drink he had.

You inch closer, closing your eyes, but before you know what his lips taste like— he's up again, pulling a jacket and mask over himself and slamming the front door shut.

Tears cloud your vision. It’s always one step forward, two steps back.

The tv plays an interview with some citizens gushing over the new Robin. 

You know who’s under the Arkham knight. Telling him to either come clean or leave you alone.

The replacement hurts more than he thought. He was abandoned, forgotten, then replaced. There was no mourning. Jason thought he would at least be mourned.

It rains one night and your car won’t start. The tow truck service won’t be here for another two hours and there’s a flash flood warning for your side of the city. You stare at your phone, your finger hovering over his name. 

“This is only strictly for emergencies” his voice clouds your memory.

You dial.

“Sweetheart?” He picks up, tense on the other side.

“I-I.. hi. I know you said this was only for emergencies but my car won’t start and there’s a lot of downpour. Can you come get me?” You feel yourself flushed, embarrassed, and tired. Maybe you shouldn’t have called him.

“I'll give you a ride, don't worry. I’ll be there in 10.” 

You don’t even question how he knows your location but sure enough in 8 minutes there’s a motorcycle revving down the street from where you are. It stops in front of your car. 

He gets off the bike, knocking on the passenger side of your car. You unlock it and he climbs in. His side of the car bounces and sends waves throughout your car.

He pulls the red hoodie down. His cheeks are flushed and his eyes are a new shade of green. 

“You ready?” He asks gleefully 

“I’m not getting on that thing Jason.” Your head nods towards the bike in front of you.

He laughs. It’s one of the best sounds you’ll ever hear. The crinkles set around his eyes and how wide and toothy his grin gets.

“Why not?” He asks, the smile lingering on his lips.

“You know why.” You respond curtly. 

“You want to get home don’t you?” He leans in toward you, eyebrow raised.

He gets so close to you that you can feel the warmth he radiates. He’s nicer these days, less moody. He’s a lot more rested too.

“Come on, there’s nowhere safer than the back of my bike.” 

And you know it’s true. 

The safest place would be with Jason.

It still doesn’t comfort you knowing it’s pouring and he zooms in and out of traffic with no care.

“No, it’s raining outside and that thing only has two wheels!”

He laughs a little harder now. He shakes his head.

“Fine. We’ll stay until the tow truck shows up.” His hand finds yours as he reclines in your passenger seat. You recline too, watching the sunroof get hit with water droplets. His fingers rub circles around your wrist.

These days you’re not as tense around him. You shuffle in your seat to get a better look at him. 

His eyes are closed. The scar under his eye is fading, and the white streak in his hair is more prominent. 

“You’re staring” he says, opening one eye to look.

“I can’t help it.” You shrug. 

He turns towards you. Wrist still his hand, he pulls you over on top of him. You settle yourself, nestling your nose in the crook of his neck. He finds your neck and places kisses down your collarbone.

He stops. Pulls your face close to him. Hands encasing your face and he stares deeply into your eyes. It’s almost so unsettling you try to count the eyebrow hairs on his right brow.

“I’m sorry for...” He says quietly, trying to find an answer in your eyes.

“Hey, look at me.” He pulls your chin in between his fingers and kisses it softly.

“I’m trying to be better, and I know I can be… difficult. But I’m going to try harder.”

It’s the most he’s said to you all these months. He sounds like he means it. You peer down at his lip, caught underneath his top lip.

“Okay?”

You nod. 

A light halos above you. Jason gets out to talk to the man. He turns back to you — the helmet is snug on your head. Your stomach does somersaults as the rain and wind blow past you.

You hope that these changes come soon.

[crinkled-emotions]

When the world tilts

Tyler faces the consequences of his previous actions. Kate learns what it means to stick by his side.

Warnings: migraines and everything that comes with them

My first Twisters fic?? On tumblr?? It's only a couple of months late guys 🤦‍♂️

There's been a really big focus lately in AFL regarding head injuries/multiple concussions and the implications for later in life which slightly inspired this, but also. Tyler was a bull rider right? He definitely had one too many TBI's that weren't checked out properly.

-

“Ty?”

“Tyler?!”

Boone and Kate were the first people to crouch down beside him. Tyler’s eyes remained tightly closed but he could tell Kate was standing in front of him, Boone standing slightly to the side with a hand on his shoulder.

“What’s wrong?” Kate asked. The only thing Tyler could do was let out a groan of pain, pitching forward as the world around him went dark again. Kate didn’t even hesitate, gently cradling his head against her shoulder. Despite the throbbing pain in his head Tyler took a slow breath, coming up to wrap his arms around her waist.

“It’s a migraine,” Boone determined. Tyler couldn’t even nod or shake his head, too busy trying to block out any light with Kate’s body.

They’d been out storm chasing that morning; something that made the adrenaline pump in their veins and every worry fly out the window of Tyler’s decked out (repaired) truck. Kate now had front seat privileges, but only when she could beat Boone to it. They’d just finished up and come to a small town diner to analyse their data when Tyler had felt the rapid onset of a migraine. He’d had a feeling he had one coming on when he’d woken up that morning, buried under his pillow because Kate was already up with Javi talking about data for her research. She was making great progress on her thesis and the tornado wrangler viewers loved her. Things had gone a little blurry just as they were all walking out with full stomachs of waffles and coffee. Next thing Tyler knew he was on his knees on the gravel in the parking lot.

“What do we do?” Kate asked, adjusting to hold Tyler against her a little better. The gravel was rough against his denim-covered legs so he couldn’t imagine she was enjoying the feel of it on her bare skin. She was in shorts, considering how warm it was outside.

“We need to get him up,” Javi interrupted hers and Boone’s conversation.

“Wait,” Tyler blurted suddenly, “don’t move me yet.”

“Vertigo?” Kate asked. The hand on his neck moved up into his hair and tangled in his hair. In the past someone touching his skull when he felt like this had definitely made him puke; Kate’s fingers were light and comforting and... not vomit-inducing.

“Yeah.”

“Okay. You’re okay.”

Tyler shuddered. The longer he stayed down the more he knew he probably wasn’t going to be going chasing for at least another couple of days.

-

Gently closing the motel room door behind herself, Kate joined the rest of the Wranglers by the picnic tables and the RV. Boone was the first to glance up.

“He asleep?”

“For now. What the fuck was that?”

“Too many concussions not enough recovery time,” Dani said simply. She offered the laptop in front of them to Kate for look at. Kate did a quick check over it, but her mind was on her boyfriend. She hadn’t known Tyler forever like these guys but something told her this wasn’t entirely medically normal.

“How long has he had these migraines?” She asked everyone. Boone and Lily exchanged a look. Then, they shrugged.

“That last bull really fucked him over. Didn’t think he was coming home when he didn’t wake up after the first day in hospital.”

“Did he get them checked out?”

Kate’s stomach dropped when everyone nodded, Boone offering her a pen and a piece of paper.

“He’s been to a few doctors; all of ‘em said it’s a consequence of his past life.”

“That’s bullshit.”

Everyone’s eyes glanced toward the closed motel room door; Kate felt sick to her stomach at the thought of Tyler in that much pain.

“How often do these happen?”

“Too often,” Dani said simply. Kate stood, dusting her shorts off.

“I can’t just leave him like that.”

“He usually just sleeps ‘em off, give him time,” Boone said. Javi nodded.

“Dude probably just wants to wallow in self pity alone.”

“He was crying when we got him into the truck, guys.”

She left them to it, grabbing a book out of the truck and heading toward the motel room door she’d just left.

-

“Tyler?”

He wasn’t asleep- he was too restless to be asleep. The closer Kate got the more she got the gist.

“What can I do to help?” She whispered. Tyler’s eyes slowly opened and his brows knitted together tightly.

“Nothing helps,” he croaked. Kate reached out, hesitantly placing her hand on his back and rubbing in gentle circles.

“I’ll be right back. Are you nauseous?”

“Not yet.”

Kate took her phone into the bathroom and closed the door behind her, turning on the tap and searching for a cloth. While she waited for the water to cool she began doing a google search for home remedies. They were limited considering they were in a shitty motel, it was the middle of summer and the air conditioning was louder than Boone and Javi’s singing after a couple of drinks. Damp cloth in hand, Kate turned the lights off and slipped back into the main part of the room. Tyler had rolled on to his other side and was completely silent. For half a moment Kate hoped he’d managed to fall asleep in the short time he was gone, but then he let out a pained groan and brought his hands up to his head again.

“Hey,” Kate started carefully, “I have something I want to try. If it doesn’t help we stop, yeah?”

“Mmhmm.”

“It’s going to be cold.”

Kate perched herself on the edge of the bed by his legs, carefully draping the damp cloth over his forehead. Tyler shuddered, then slowly exhaled.

“Feels good,” Tyler whispered. The deep furrow in his brow, present since he’d collapsed in the diner parking lot earlier, began to ease. Instead of asking if she could stay Kate got herself comfortable against the headboard of the bed and turned the volume to silent on her phone.

“Y’don’t have to stay,” Tyler murmured. Kate squeezed his hand when it came up to rest on her thigh.

“I’ve got you.”

That seemed to comfort him. Tyler’s eyes closed again and, for the first time since he’d gone down, he seemed like he was ready to get some sleep.

About an hour later Tyler startled awake, groaning as he reached for Kate’s hand. She squeezed his fingers, frowning when he started trying to sit up.

“Woah, hey, what’s wrong?” Kate asked, trying to stop him falling off the bed.

“Gonna hurl,” Tyler warned her. She let go and he threw himself into the bathroom door before managing to get it open. By the time Kate scooted over the bed to go after him Tyler was doubled over the disgusting toilet, dry heaving uselessly.

“Oh, shit, Ty.”

She went to kneel beside him but Tyler put his hand out.

“Give me a sec.”

“Copy that.”

Kate’s eyebrows raised but she didn’t protest, slowly backing out of the room and closing the door carefully behind her. Listening to Tyler try to hurl his guts up through the bathroom door was hell but she respected his request for privacy- something told her he tended to tough these out on his own. She reached for her phone.

Kate: please tell me you know what to do

Boone: don’t try aspirin

Kate: that’s not useful

Boone: he’ll be fine in a couple days

Kate: DAYS

Boone: told you it was bad

Kate: not this bad???

Kate: what do you usually do when he gets like this??

Boone: he handles it on his own

Kate: you can’t see but I’m facepalming

Boone: vibes

Kate: BOONE

The bathroom door opened and Tyler was silent as he stumbled back to the bed. Kate didn’t have the heart to ask if he’d brushed his teeth as he pulled his knees to his chest and groaned in pain. He lifted his head, frowning.

“You’re still here?”

“Did you... not want me to be?”

“The violent puking didn’t turn you off?”

“Oh no, that was particularly disgusting.”

Kate could see he appreciated the sad attempt at a joke but didn’t have the energy to laugh, letting his head fall back on to the pillow. She made her way back to his side, offering a bottle of water.

“Try and get some of this down. What painkillers do you usually take?”

Tyler went quiet again, eyes closing as he tried to breathe through the pain radiating in his head.

“There’s ibuprofen in my bag,” he managed to get out. Kate frowned.

“Do you not take something to help when this happens?”

“Just comes back up.”

“Ugh.”

She took the water bottle back when he was done with it, leaving it on the bedside table.

“Could you stay?” Tyler finally asked. Kate dutifully got back into her previous position against the headboard, a little surprised when Tyler scooted closer to rest his head against her leg. He wasn’t burning up, thankfully, and he seemed to hurt just a little less when he was touching her.

“Thanks,” Tyler muttered into her thigh. Kate rolled her eyes.

“Get some sleep.”

-

Kate was relieved to see the sun when morning broke. She hadn’t slept all that much, caught between sitting up with Tyler and listening to him violently hurl from outside the bathroom door. She had no idea how intense migraines were until she spent time with him in the midst of one. Tyler wasn’t one to complain, not even when he’d had that huge gash in his leg and a fractured femur from being trapped under that water tank. If anything, he’d been quite jovial. She wasn’t sure if it was the migraine itself or if it was what the migraine reminded him of that caused him so much pain, but he wasn’t particularly chatty when he felt like his brain was trying to evacuate from his skull. He’d finally gone back to sleep around 5am and Kate heaved a sigh of relief, untangling from him to stretch and use the bathroom. When she returned she crawled under the covers and closed her eyes, throwing an arm over Tyler’s waist as an afterthought.

-

When Tyler opened his eyes almost twelve hours later, the first thing that was brought to his attention was how hungry he was. His burning migraine had decreased to a dull, mildly irritating throb and he shifted, rolling on to his other side. This caused Kate’s arm to fall off his side and he missed it immediately. Instead of accidentally killing her with his puke breath he shifted to tuck her under his chin, slowly exhaling when she sleepily leaned into him.

“Not sick?” Kate whispered, half-asleep. Tyler shook his head.

“M’okay.”

“Good.”

She patted his side, burying into his chest. Tyler yawned, enjoying the cuddle. Kate was not a cuddler by any means; she usually slept on one side of the bed and he chased her all night.

“Ty?” Kate whispered after a moment. He hummed.

“Yeah?”

“How long have you been having these migraines?”

Tyler frowned.

“I don’t know... a couple years. They just started one day.”

“Was it because of... your accident?”

A sore subject just as much as her accident was, Tyler immediately winced.

“Yeah.”

“Must be hell.”

“Sure is.”

Kate shifted, glancing up at him from her spot tucked in his arms.

“And you put yourself through that alone?”

Tyler shrugged.

“What was I gonna do, ask Boone to hold my hair back?”

That earned a soft snort as Kate held him a little tighter.

“Well, unfortunately for you, I’m not going anywhere. The next time you feel one coming on, tell me and we’ll stop you scaring the locals in a diner parking lot.”

“I didn’t scare the locals-“

Kate nudged him with her foot.

“You scared the shit out of me, let alone the locals.”

“Sorry.”

A moment of silence. A brief pause. Tyler’s stomach rumbled.

“Okay, I’m up. I’m going. Brush your teeth while I’m gone.”

Kate managed to get up from the bed, grabbing her phone to take with her. She paused by the door to the rest of the world, clearing her throat.

“And please, for the love of god, try and have a shower.”

“Are you gonna be there?” Tyler deadpanned cheekily just as Kate opened the door. He knew she heard it when she groaned right as the door closed behind her.

-