#anyway you and me both anon. can I say that if I'm the one drawing them lol

[mothcpu]

the way you draw the V models is um. uh 😳😳😳😳

you are NOT immune to cute murder machine

[pathologicalreid]

hiii I love ur fics <3 I am OBSESSED with the prompt “can you come get me?” bc h/c makes me 💥💥💥 so I was thinking:

reader has been kidnapped by the latest unsub and the team is trying their hardest to find her but all the leads keep coming up empty until one day Spencer gets a call from her and the first thing she says is “can you come get me?” she sounds extremely upset and afraid so Spencer and Hotch leave to go find her. when they get there, she looks like she’s been through hell so they rush her to the hospital to be checked out, all the while they can’t seem to get any info out of her about what happened.

Spencer & reader could be platonic or romantic, whichever you like. (also I was thinking maybe hotchner!reader ? if that wouldn’t be too many things to ask for lol)

I love how you do angst and h/c, so keep up the good work and have a wonderful day <3

can you come get me? | S.R.

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: kidnapping, hospitals, stitches, blood draws, catatonia, disassociation, brief mention of sa, ohio mentioned, general cm violence (let me know if i missed any) word count: 4.56k a/n: i have no idea how this got so long but i love the plot of it so much that i couldn't cut any of it! i'm such a slut for the "you came"/"you called" trope that i couldn't help myself! i wrote this with the idea that it would be in place of the m*eve storyline (which means our lord and savior blake is here)!! anyways anon i hope you enjoy this - i love you!

Any external sound was completely ignored as Spencer flipped through the same file for the eighteenth time that day. In his periphery, he saw JJ and Rossi nod at each other before Rossi split away, walking up the ramp to where Hotch’s office was.

It took him a moment to realize JJ had made herself comfortable by sitting on the edge of his desk. She had her jacket neatly folded in her arms as she eyed the file he had, grief filling her eyes as she registered what he was looking at. “What are you doing tonight?” She asked, trying to keep her voice as light as possible.

The question was entirely pointless, she knew exactly what he was doing tonight, but in an attempt to get her to leave him alone, Spencer humored her, “I’m working late tonight,” he answered simply.

JJ’s smile faltered ever so slightly before she shook her head, “You’ve been working late all week, what if you come over tonight? Will’s making dinner. Garcia’s coming after she finishes her system update,” the attempt to get him out of the office didn’t go over his head, but it wasn’t going to work. “Henry would love to see you – maybe you could teach him a new magic trick.”

Peeling his eyes off of the paperwork, he looked up at the blonde, “You know I can’t.” He felt so close to an answer, he couldn’t possibly leave.

“Look, Reid, I get it, but you’ve been working crazy hours for the past month. Maybe taking a night off would be good. You can start fresh in the morning,” she tried to coax him into leaving the case be.

It hadn’t been a full month; it had been twenty-seven days. Almost four full weeks since you were taken. It had been one week since Section Chief Cruz had told Hotch that the BAU needed to start taking new cases, as the trail to you had run cold.

Considering you were Hotch’s daughter, that discussion had gone rather poorly. Cruz had been able to give the team leeway. Both Spencer and Hotch had fully intended on taking advantage of that leeway, and the rest of the team helped when they had the capacity.

Turning back to your file, Spencer shook his head, “I’ll go if Hotch goes.” He knew there was no way Hotch would be leaving the office tonight, the only reason Hotch went home anymore was for Jack, and he was at a sleepover tonight.

JJ’s shoulders slumped in abject disappointment as her eyes followed Dave as he exited Hotch’s office, the slamming of the door enough to make the lingering BAU agents flinch. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said, defeated.

Rossi wagged a finger at Spencer, “Go home at some point tonight, kid,” he instructed.

Waving a quick goodbye, Spencer resumed making notes in the margins of the papers that were making a permanent home on his desk. He looked up when Hotch exited his office, eyes following him as he brewed a pot of coffee in the kitchenette. The two of them acknowledged each other with a nod before continuing on with the hunt.

Both of them knew the odds, that you had been gone this long and there was a good chance that they’d never see you again. Despite that, Spencer would head up to Hotch’s office in about an hour, and the two of them would confer.

Eventually, the sun set, and a thunderstorm rolled in, the flashes of light coming in through the windows as he began to consider going for another cup of coffee.

Wiping a hand down his face, he inwardly groaned as his phone started to ring. Half expecting it to be JJ, he was surprised to find that it was an unknown caller. Clicking the answer button, he lifted the phone to his ear, “Hello, this is Dr. Reid.”

There was an eerie silence on the other end of the call, if he strained his ears, he could hear the pattering of rain. He tried to greet the other person again, but when there was no answer, he started to lower the phone to hang up.

“Can you come get me?” Your quiet voice came through the receiver, effectively knocking the wind out of Spencer’s lungs.

Fiddling with his belongings, Spencer gripped your file, “Where are you?” He asked urgently.

You sniffled, “I don’t know. A payphone off of twenty-eight.” If he strained his ears, he could listen to the rain. Spencer wondered if he could calculate how far away you were by the sound of the thunder where you were compared to where he was.

His chest ached at the exhaustion in your tone, imagining you had gotten approximately as much sleep as he had recently. That is to say, little to none. Pulling the phone slightly away from his face, he called out for Hotch, getting his attention and waving him over. “Y/N, can you see any mile markers or exit signs anywhere?” Spencer asked, bringing the phone back up to his ear.

“I can’t see much of anything,” you admitted. That made sense, your glasses had been recovered at your abduction scene. Spencer kept them in his bag with the rest of your belongings that had been released from evidence. “I feel lucky enough that I was able to find a pay phone,” you said, and for the first time, he noticed that you were whispering.

Glancing at the inside of his wrist, Spencer checked the time. JJ had mentioned something about Garcia staying in her office for a system update – what were the odds the tech analyst was still there? Stalking out of the bullpen, he made his way to her office, Hotch hot on his heels.

After knocking on the door, her voice rang out, “Enter, mere mortal.” Once she had recognized who it was, she greeted Spencer directly, “Ah, Dr. Reid, did you need a ride to JJ’s?”

“Can you locate a payphone based on the phone number?” He asked hurriedly, the longer you stood out there in the rain, the more danger you might be in.

A confused look was plastered on her face, but she turned back to her screens and started click-clacking away. “Most def, boy genius. Run me the digits,” she responded, pulling up some sort of database that Spencer didn’t recognize – probably for the best.

She typed the phone number just as quickly as he recited it, turning around and telling him that the pay phone in question was approximately thirty minutes away. You had only been thirty minutes away this entire time. “Send the coordinates to Hotch’s phone,” Spencer instructed, stepping toward the door. “Tell the rest of the team to come in,” he continued, “it’s Y/N.”

Each stage of grief flashed across Penelope’s face as she nodded assuredly, scrambling for her phone as she took care of notifications.

Impatiently, Hotch held the elevator door open as Spencer entered, keeping the phone up to his ear, “Stay on the phone,” he told you.

A desperate whimper came from your end of the call, “I don’t have any change. I found a few quarters on the ground, but I don’t have anything on me.”

“Stay on as long as you can, angel,” Spencer amended. “We’re on our way.”

The rain was worse than he had initially thought, but Mother Nature was no match for Aaron Hotchner. They were only about five minutes from the coordinates that Garcia had shared, and the phone call had dropped off before they were even on the main highway. The dropped call certainly didn’t help the rising tension in the SUV.

“Did she sound scared?” Hotch had asked for the nth time.

Not taking his eyes off of the map, Spencer nodded, “She sounded like she was stranded in the middle of the woods in Virginia, in a thunderstorm, and was using a pay phone as a lifeline.” His entire body was thrumming with nervous energy as they sped down the road, “but she’s alive.”

He didn’t miss the way Hotch’s knuckles turned white as he gripped the steering wheel. You being alive would have to be enough of a comfort to the both of them for now, but Spencer knew what your life meant to your father.

“There it is,” Spencer said, interrupting his thoughts with the recognition of a phone booth on the side of the road, in front of a seemingly abandoned gas station. In a moment of uncharacteristic recklessness, Spencer clambered out of the vehicle before it came to a full stop, an umbrella and jacket in tow.

Hesitantly, he approached the crumpled heap of limbs underneath the pay phone. It wasn’t a full booth, it had just enough coverage to prevent the payphone from short-circuiting. You had jammed yourself underneath it, trying to keep yourself as dry as possible.

Kneeling in front of you, he swept his sopping-wet hair from his face, “Y/N.” His voice was no more than a breath, he didn’t dare reach out to touch you — lest you not want to be touched. A strike of lightning lit your surroundings enough for him to note the bruise that had bloomed on your cheek.

As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he watched as your lips parted in recognition, “You came,” you whispered.

He nodded, “You called.” His heart soared as you shuffled yourself closer to him, allowing him to wrap the FBI-issued jacket around your rain-soaked frame. “Let’s get you out of this rain, alright?”

Standing up on shaky legs, Spencer helped you walk to the SUV where your dad was waiting, shining a flashlight to help guide you to the vehicle. Based on how heavily you were leaning on him, he could tell that your left leg was injured. Despite your injury, you stepped away from Spencer to hug your father.

For a moment, Spencer felt like he was intruding on a family moment, but he recalled all of the times he had been invited to join in Hotchner festivities these last few years and allowed his eyes to meet Hotch’s.

The two of them shared an understanding look as Hotch pulled away, “We should get you to a hospital,” he said, cupping your face with parental gentleness.

Spencer helped you into the SUV, unable to put any pressure on your leg, you depended on the handles to pull yourself up. As you maneuvered yourself, he tried to determine what your injuries were. His eyes scanned your body until he made his way back to your face, “Angel, keep your eyes open.” He felt as if he was asking a lot of you, but he didn’t know if you had taken a hit to the head. Falling asleep could do more damage. “Hey, Y/N?” He said, watching as your eyes fell shut and your head slumped forward. “Hotch,” Reid said urgently from the backseat.

Understanding perfectly, Hotch hit the lights on the SUV and turned on the siren. Flashes of red and blue signaled to other drivers that there was an emergency.

You were silent.

As soon as they had gotten you to the emergency room, your entire demeanor had changed. Spencer guessed that you had been in fight or flight when they had picked you up from the phone booth, and now that you were getting the help that you needed, all of the fight had vacated your being.

In the white fluorescence of the hospital, he could see how drained you looked. Once the doctors got their hands on you, you refused to let him or your dad near you.

Hotch was in the hallway, talking on the phone with your Aunt Jessica while he tried to arrange childcare for Jack so he could stay with you - the leader of your care team estimated you’d be in the hospital for at least a few days.

While you had been mobile when they came to get you, your energy had left along with your adrenaline, and eventually, the best course of action was to just let you sleep. That was how Spencer ended up sitting cross-legged in a stiff hospital chair, watching over you as you slept.

Respectful of your wishes, he kept a fair distance from you, but you’d be hard-pressed to convince him to let you out of his sight. There were tubes and wires going every which way from your body, oxygen, an IV, and electrodes monitored your life. Boiling you down to a collection of numbers that showed Spencer just how alive you were.

The doctors suspected you had bacterial pneumonia, but they were still waiting on the results of your chest X-ray to make a formal diagnosis. Your presumed leg injury had turned out to be a bruised hip bone – part of a sickening pattern that reflected that of someone who had been thrown down a flight of stairs.

A knock on the window to your hospital room caught his attention, causing him to turn his head and come face to face with Rossi and Blake. Opening the blinds so that he’d be able to keep an eye on you from the hallway, Spencer stood up and joined his colleagues in the corridor.

“What’s the report?” Rossi asked, nodding in the direction of your room, and placing his hands on his hips.

Spencer rubbed the back of his neck before responding, “The doctor said that all things considered, she’s in good shape, but…” Shaking his head to wake himself up, he crossed his arms in front of his chest, “She’s sick and was beaten. Right now, she’s sleeping. We have no idea she was running in the woods, so it’s not surprising that she’s exhausted.”

He continued on to list other maladies that the doctors had provided, dehydration, malnutrition, one cut on your arm that needed to be stitched, and that was just scratching the surface. Dave nodded understandingly, “but the sooner we get to ask her questions, the better.”

Shrugging, Spencer looked over at your father, and then back to you, “When she wakes up on her own,” he murmured, watching as a nurse checked on your IV. He didn’t want to risk waking you up or asking too much too soon of you. “Can I ask you a quick question?” He lifted a finger inquisitively to the nurse who was walking out of your room, scribbling something on your chart.

The nurse hummed in response, raising her eyebrows as she waited for him to ask.

“Do you think the infection has anything to do with her silence? She might be hurting so she isn’t talking?” He asked, it wasn’t unheard of, when people were in a lot of pain, sometimes they coped with silence.

While the nurse might have an excellent bedside manner, the three profilers took note of the concern in her eyes. “The silence might have more to do with her psychological well-being than her physical well-being,” she responded, it was a healthcare way of trying to appease them. Really, they didn’t know much better than the members of the BAU did.

Blake’s eyebrows shot up in curiosity, “Could it be catatonia?”

“In order to diagnose catatonia, she’d need to display three of twelve symptoms. Those are stupor, catalepsy, waxy flexibility, mutism, negativism, posturing, mannerism, stereotypy, agitation, grimacing, echolalia, and echopraxia. So far, she really only meets one of twelve,” Spencer answered.

Shrugging, the nurse pointed at Spencer with her pen, “What he said.” She looked down at the chart before continuing, “Her care team leader called for a psych consult, but we won’t really know one way or the other until she wakes up.”

Nodding, Rossi nodded in acknowledgment, “What else could it be?”

Pursing her lips, the nurse tilted her head to the side, “Peritraumatic disassociation is another possibility, but again, we won’t know until she wakes up.”

The waiting game began. As luck would have it, an FBI agent being abducted created a lot of paperwork, so Hotch was holed up in a conference room while Rossi and Blake worked on the profile. JJ and Morgan stayed back at Quantico with Garcia to look back at what information Hotch and Spencer had been gathering over the past twenty-seven – now twenty-eight – days.

Spencer stayed with you, tucking your blanket around you when he watched goosebumps sprout along your arms. He paid close attention to everything that the doctors and nurses said about your condition, relaying everything to Hotch via text message. They ran a kit on you, and the only solace was that there was a chance that they could DNA match whoever did this to you.

He left that last part out of his message to your father.

As soon as you started waking up, Spencer had to leave the room, watching from the hallway as medical personnel flurried around your bed. At first, he had assumed your aversion to himself and your dad was an overall aversion to men, but you didn’t flinch when it came to the male doctor who was checking your vitals manually.

A nurse peeked out from the door, “Are you Dave?”

Furrowing his eyebrows, Spencer cocked his head back in confusion, “No? I’m not – why?” He asked, gaze flickering back into your room as you scrawled something on the piece of paper that a nurse had handed you.

“She said she’d talk to Dave,” the inquiring nurse shrugged, turning back into your room, and adjusting your pillow beneath your head.

Still confused, Spencer slipped his phone out of his pocket, nimbly typing a message to Rossi before returning the phone to its home in his slacks. Trying to respect your peace, Spencer remained in the hallway, leaning back against the wall as he heard the familiar sound of Italian leather boots turning the corner. “Are you sure she didn’t mean Aaron?”

Spencer shook his head, mirroring the older man’s confusion, “She physically wrote your name out. She’ll only speak to you,” he answered, trying to hide his own pain for the sake of ridding you of yours. If you wouldn’t talk to your father or himself, it made the most sense that you’d talk to Rossi. You’ve known him the entire time your father worked in the BAU.

Shrugging, Rossi walked into your room and approached you with the care of a man approaching a deer. He remained this way until he made it to your bed, and Spencer watched as he smoothed your hair away from your face affectionately.

You leaned into his touch, and Spencer didn’t miss the cue. When was the last time anyone had touched you with love in their heart?

He had kissed you goodbye before you went on your run, just thirty minutes before your location turned off and your usual Thursday route turned into a hunting ground. With what you did for work, you switched paths frequently, but someone had been watching you, or at least, that was the conclusion the team had drawn.

Watching as Rossi spoke with you, Spencer noticed one anomaly – you weren’t speaking to him. Instead, all of his questions were answered with blinks or scribbling on paper.

The two of you went until a nurse came in, telling the both of you that they needed to run a few more tests. Taking his leave, Rossi told you something that Reid couldn’t quite make out and rejoined him in the hallway.

“What did you say to her? Just now?” Spencer asked, his need for any sort of contact with you becoming so desperate that he’d now accept it secondhand.

Frowning, Rossi placed both of his hands on his hips, “I called her piccolina, I used to call her that all the time when she was just a little thing running around the old BAU bunker.” Taking a moment, Rossi pulled out his little notebook and read through it. “White male, late twenties to early thirties, sometimes gone for days on end citing ‘work,’ but she never figured out what he did for work.”

Spencer’s eyes burned at the realization that you had been working your own case while being victimized, he peered in through the window as a nurse drew your blood.

“She said he drove a dark American sedan, making it either blue or black,” Rossi continued to list off, eyes following Blake as she approached the two of you. “Y/N said the car was filthy like he had been living out of it when he couldn’t get to her in the woods. The car had an Ohio party plate on it with expired tags.”

Blake arched a brow at the new information, “Party plate?” She said quizzically, looking at Spencer for clarification.

Nodding, Spencer looked over at his friend, “That’s the colloquial name for restricted license places. They’re given to people who are convicted of DUIs, which is actually called an OVI in Ohio. In Ohio, they’re yellow with red print, and the only state to have something similar is Minnesota where they call them whiskey plates because they all start with the letter W.”

“Well, he’s confident. Maybe too confident, driving around with expired tags and a license plate that already puts a spotlight on him,” Blake said thoughtfully, adding to the profile in her mind. “We should get this information to Garcia, maybe look for people who recently relocated from Ohio with those plates,” she suggested to Rossi.

Rossi nodded, skillfully flipping the cover back over his notepad and gesturing for Blake to follow him to the conference room, effectively leading Spencer to his own devices. When the nurse left to bring the vials of blood to the lab, he returned to your room, taking his seat on the edge of the room – as far away as he could get while keeping his eyes on you.

He looked up to your bed, catching you staring at him. As soon as you knew you had been caught, you turned your head to the other side, averting your gaze toward the window.

Every thirty minutes or so, Spencer moved the chair approximately five inches closer to you, by four in the morning, he had closed half of the space between you. He kept his eyes on you, watching as you stared thoughtfully at the ceiling. You had that crease between your eyebrows that told him you were thinking too hard, and he had to sit on his hands to stop himself from reaching out and touching it as if he could soothe all of your bad thoughts.

In the doorway, Rossi had appeared, garnering your attention as you propped yourself up on the flat hospital pillows. “We got him,” Rossi announced to the room, a reserved smile on his face.

Spencer watched as you visibly relaxed on the bed, your face softened as your eyebrows relaxed. Rossi explained some next steps, but he was only half listening, he could only focus on you.

Once Dave was gone, Spencer took a leap of faith and shuffled the chair to your bedside, “How are you feeling, angel?” He asked, taking up a muted tone.

You stared at him, blinking at him until, eventually, your face crumpled, and you leaned toward him.

Not missing a beat, Spencer stood up from his chair so that he could sit on the edge of your bed, meeting you in the middle, he gently wrapped his arms around you, rubbing small, soothing circles along your back with the flat of his hand.

In the past twenty-eight days, Spencer thought that being reunited with you could fix all of the hurt in his chest, but this, right here, was a different kind of pain. Tears sept through the fabric of his shirt just as soon as they fell from your eyes, and all of the hurt that he had felt before just morphed into a different kind of suffering.

His heart ached at the sight of you in this much pain, so much emotional turmoil that you had silenced yourself. What was he supposed to say in order to comfort you? ‘You’re okay,’ was wholly false, and ‘it’s alright’ felt like a cruel joke. You very clearly weren’t okay, and none of this was alright.

“I’m here,” he reassured you, his voice no more than a croak as he tried to swallow his own emotions. “I’m right here,” he repeated, continuing his ministrations on your back until you had cried yourself to sleep.

With your body in its weakened state, Spencer carefully adjusted you onto the bed, making sure none of your tubes or wires were kinked before settling back down in his chair and taking your hand in his.

Around the time the sun came up, your care team came through for morning rounds and woke you up to thoroughly inspect your status. Once they left you to your own devices – with the promise of food in half an hour – Spencer focused all of his attention on trying to coax you into speaking to him.

Tenderly, he dragged a finger across your forehead before continuing down the bridge of your nose, “I’d really like to hear your voice, sweetheart.” His voice was gentle, maintaining a subdued tone in the early hours of the morning.

He watched as you sighed, deflating all of the air in your lungs as you tipped your head to the side, interrupting his movements. “I asked him to do it,” you murmured, voice raspy from lack of use.

“To do what?” Spencer asked, heart beating a little faster at the sound of your voice. He watched how you nervously gripped a fistful of sheets and looked at him. Only you weren’t looking at him, it was more like you were looking through him.

You took a deep, shuddering breath before you answered, “To kill me.”

The confession weighed heavy on his shoulders, but it wasn’t regarding anything against you. It was in the realization that you had been in so much physical and emotional turmoil while in captivity that you had asked for your own death. That even for a moment, you sat in front of a killer and asked for him to end your life as an act of mercy.

Noting Spencer’s lack of response, you continued speaking, “That’s why he let me go. I begged him to just end it and that took away any appeal for him.”

Last night. You had pleaded on behalf of your own demise last night. Carefully considering his next words, Spencer met your eyes and replied, “That must’ve taken a lot of courage.”

You faltered for a moment, evidently not having expected those words from him, “What are you talking about?”

It made sense to him now, why you wouldn’t talk to him or your dad. He felt like such a fool. You had been ashamed because you felt like your abductor had diminished your worth by breaking you down. Spencer knew better, “You stood your ground. You faced your own death, and you chose that over further suffering. Dying isn’t an undignified act, no matter how it comes upon you,” he reminded you, smoothing your hair away from your face as he watched your lip quiver.

“Thank you for staying,” you croaked as emotion closed your throat.

Spencer hummed thoughtfully, swiping a rogue tear from your cheek, “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

[pretty-little-mind33]

Tangerine x wife!fem!reader

Summary: When your sister's new mystery fiancé is someone you know from university, your husband isn't very happy.

Genre: fluff and hurt and comfort

Warnings: protective!Tangerine, reader is pregnant, mentions of stalking, knife/gun wounds, swearing, suggestive ending.

~ thank you to the anon who requesting this! ~

TANGERINE MASTERLIST

"Ah," you groan, burning yourself on the saucer as you transfer the pasta into the strainer over the sink. Your husband, who'd just finished setting the table to his liking, peeks his head inside the kitchen. 

"You ok, luv?" he asks, coming over and guiding your hand to the faucet where he turns on the cool water, "All better, yeah?" he asks, almost mocking in the kindest way and he kisses the crown of your head as the water runs over your wounded palm. 

"My poor girl," Tangerine is really laying it on thick now as he kisses behind your ear. "D'ya need me to finish up here?"

You turn, looking up at him, and nod, "Would you? They're coming over at nine and I haven't even showered or changed—and the warmth is making me feel all woozy." You emphasize this point by fanning at your face with your wet hand, water droplets cooling your skin, and Tangerine cups his hand over your stomach. 

"'Course my darlin'. What an awful husband I am havin' ya cook while you're pregnant. I'm sorry, my luv," he says genuinely, ignoring your attempt to remind him you'd wanted to make the meal since it's your sister's favorite, as he practically shoos you away. 

"I'll call ya down when they've arrived, hm?" 

You nod, smiling as you make your way up the stairs to shower and change for dinner.

As the oldest, you've always been protective over your sister. Andy had this tendency to jump into situations impulsively and when she'd called and gushed over her new fiancé, you had been slightly concerned for her considering she'd gotten engaged within just four months of meeting him. 

So, with Tangerine's approval, you had invited them both over for dinner. 

Once you finish adjusting your dress in the mirror, you make your way downstairs and smile at the familiar sound of Andy's rambling.

The room smells like the spaghetti you'd started and Tangerine had finished, and you see that he has poured both Andy and her fiancé a glass of wine.

He hasn't poured one for himself considering he doesn't drink when you don't. 

Seeing you, Andy instantly squeals and rushes up to pull you into her arms. "Oh my, just look at you," Andy exclaims and looks at your dress, which shows your baby bump, "You been taking good care of my darling sister?" She looks at Tangerine with a light-hearted frown and points at him accusingly. 

"Mmhm, only the best for my darlin'," Tangerine smirks and moves closer so he can kiss your cheek. You feel all warm and fuzzy inside as you smile at your husband. You're too preoccupied with your happiness to fully hear Andy introduce her new fiancé until Tangerine nudges your shoulder and you look up at your sister's future husband. 

You're happy you hadn't been holding a wine glass because it would have fallen onto the ground instantly.

"This is Oliver," Andy says, hugging him closely as she draws hearts on his chest. The man is tall and slim and he has dusty blond hair. His eyes, which the blue reminds you of Tangerine's, are piercing into yours and you shudder. 

You know him. 

Tangerine can see your discomfort and he squeezes your hand. He doesn't mention it. He doesn't want to make a scene and he's distracted by Oliver shaking his hand. "Hi," Oliver then moves his hand to you and he continues to stare. You feel sick but you know you have to shake his hand anyway.

"Hi," you answer and strain a smile.

Andy jumps in immediately with a new topic of conversation, happily introducing the man she loves to you and Tangerine. You feel like you're underwater as you stare at Oliver and all those memories; of the bundles of flowers and the endless phone calls swarm and drown you. 

Tangerine's hand in yours is the only thing now keeping you above water.  

"Excuse me," you say early into dinner as Tangerine finishes serving everyone some pasta. You've barely sat down but you suddenly feel sick to your stomach so you rush to the bathroom.

After only a moment, you hear your husband's worried voice from behind the bathroom door. 

"My luv, are you alright in there? Is everything okay?" he calls and raps on the door with his knuckles. 

You let him in instantly, your eyes round as you pull him inside the bathroom. Tangerine stumbles inside and looks you up and down with confusion. 

"The baby's okay," you reassure him breathlessly and his expression softens.

"I didn't ask if the baby was okay," he says gently but places his hand on your stomach as a way to show he's grateful the baby is okay, "I asked if you were okay, my heart." 

You look up at him, holding in your frustrated tears. "I know Oliver," you whisper. 

Tangerine frowns but he understands what you mean. "You do?" 

You nod and start to explain. "Yeah, I know him from university. We were classmates freshman year and then—it became weird. Remember that stalker I had? It's him. He was obsessed with me and would ask me out numerous times and when he finally asked for my number, he wouldn't stop calling and following me around. The university got involved and he left junior year. I haven't heard or seen him since but Tan, I know it's him. I just know," you sound scared and your husband hates the sound.

"Sweetheart," he says and pulls you in closer, his hands cupping your cheeks. "I believe you, darlin'. You wouldn't lie about something like this. What do you need me to do? Should I kick him out–or—"

"No!" you lean your head on Tangerine's chest, sighing as you clutch at his shirt, "Andy clearly loves him. I can't ruin this for her."

Tangerine's hand rests against the back of your head, his thumb soothing in your hair. "But, if he makes you uncomfortable—"

You interrupt him, "I can deal with one dinner and then I'll tell Andy about all this privately. It has to be her decision, okay?"

"I do not want your stalker as our brother-in-law, Y/n," Tangerine says sternly. 

"It's not about us! It's about Andy and– please can you pretend I didn't tell you anything tonight?" you say, "And I'll pretend I don't remember him."

Tangerine can see the determination in your eyes. He wants to protest and tell you you don't have to go through with this dinner but he can tell you want to protect your sister more than yourself and he knows he has to respect that.

So, he puts on his best fake smile as you both return to the table. Tangerine hates pretending like this, especially because now he's overanalyzing every look Oliver is sending you. His blood boils even more when Olicer asks you, 

"How far along are you?"

How dare that bastard ask about his baby?  

You take a bite from your fork and strain a smile, nudging Tangerine's calf to convince him to stay quiet as you answer the question. "Almost six months now," you say and Oliver uses this as an opportunity to look you up and down which makes you visibly tense. 

"Yeah, my darlin' has been a real trouper," Tangerine fakes a laugh at Oliver's question and rolls up his sleeves, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as he presses a kiss to your cheek. You know what he's doing instantly because you've seen the number of bullet wounds grazes and knife slashes he has on his forearms, as well as the tattoos that cover his skin. 

He's intimidating Oliver and by the look on the poor man's face, it's working. 

"And she has me to help 'er, right, luv?" He smiles and tilts his head in Oliver's direction, drumming his hand on the table as he brings attention to the scars there and the amount of rings he's wearing—especially his wedding band.   

Oliver stares at you less after that. 

As you say your goodbyes to Andy, you tell her you'll call her later, and then smile politely at Oliver—who doesn't say much to you or Tangerine and once your front door is shut you turn around and narrow your eyes at your husband. 

"I saw what you did," you say and Tangerine raises his arms in mock confusion. He winks and then starts to clear the table. You follow him, trying to do the same but he sends you a look and you retaliate, instead leaning against the kitchen counter as you watch him.

 "You didn't need to show him your scars like that. Andy doesn't know what you do for a living, remember?" you sigh. 

Tangerine hums, "I wasn't showing them to her," he shrugs and loads up the dishes into the dishwasher. 

"I wanted that bastard to know what I would do to him if he even considered hurting you again. I wanted him to know what I'm capable of," he finishes.

You sit down on a chair, holding your stomach and you sigh. Tangerine turns to look at you over your shoulder, "Ya okay, darlin'?" he asks, wiping his hands on a dish towel as he walks over and kneels in front of you, his hands on your knees. 

You nod. "I'm just a little tired," you whisper.

Tangerine caresses your cheeks. "See, this is why I had to intimidate the bastard. You were under unnecessary stress and that makes him a threat to everything I hold dear," he whispers and kisses your stomach over your dress. "Ya know I won't let anyone hurt you, luv, yeah?"

"I know," you say, running one of your hands in his curls and twisting one in your finger as you contemplate admitting this. "I did think it was hot," you admit, "Seeing you show off your arms like that."

Your husband's grin widens. "Yeah?" 

You glare at him and suppress a smile. "Oh, don't get a big head about it, you prat." 

Tangerine laughs and stands up, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your forehead. He straightens up and flexes his muscles, sending you a playful wink. "Is this making ya all hot and bothered for me?"

You shake your head but the way you're staring at him says otherwise. Tangerine helps you stand, smirking as he sees that look in your eyes. He knows your pregnancy sometimes makes you hornier than usual and he can read your moods easily now. 

"Want me to make the ache go away?" he teases and kisses your cheek. 

You laugh breathlessly and wrap your arms around his neck. "Okay," you say and then look at him seriously, "But you're doing all the work. I just wanna lay there," you pout, "I'm tired."

Tangerine smiles and nods, "Such a princess," he teases and then succumbs to your wishes, "But anything for you, luv'."   

[7ndipity]

When they call you clingy

Ot7 x Reader

Summary: different scenarios in which they've called you clingy.

Warnings: angst, swearing, depression, jk calls himself an idiot, not proofread.

A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon for this request! I'm gonna be honest, these are all over the place. Some are angsty, some are fluffy, Jimin's is just straight-up comfort because apparently he's part of my emotional support squad. Idk, I hope you like them anyway!

Masterlist

Requests are open

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Seokjin: Bickering with Jin was something that happened often, usually over something you both knew was ridiculous to fight over, like the validity of mint chocolate as an ice cream flavor, but both of you were too stubborn to back down.

Tonight's argument: whether holding hands while sleeping was clingy or not.

"I think it's nice." You argued.

"That's because you're clingy!" He retorted.

"I'm clingy?" You asked, offended. "Have you seen you?"

"What?"

"Last week at that party, you couldn't stand me being more than five feet away from you!"

"That's cause Wooseok kept staring at you and I didn't want him trying to make a pass at you." He exclaimed.

You blinked. "That was why?"

"Yes!"

You paused, caught of guard by his admission. "That's kinda sweet."

"Because I'm a sweet boyfriend." He said, still slightly defensive.

"You are." You assented, coming over and kissing him, making him finally crack and give you a small grin.

"Can we please just go to bed now?" He asked.

"Will you let me hold your hand?"

He sighed. "Yes."

"Then yes."

Yoongi: It was late in the afternoon when you brought him a coffee while he was working on his laptop and, noticing the concentrated frown on his face, leaned down and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

"Agh, clingy." He grumbled, not with any venom, just his usual tone, but it was still enough to make you draw back, excusing yourself so he could work.

Were you clingy? You knew you were more physically affectionate than he was, but he'd never seemed to find it bothersome, but you couldn't help second guessing yourself after his comment.

Later, when he came through to join you, he noticed you were a bit quiet, but didn't think much of it at first, until you sat down on the opposite end of the sofa from him.

"C'mere." He said, patting the space next him.

"I'm good here right now." You said, making him frown in confusion.

"Is something wrong?" He asked.

"No."

"Then why are you way over there?"

"I'm just trying to give you some space."

"I don't want space." He pouted.

"But you said I was clingy."

"I didn't say it was a bad thing." He said, sliding over next to you. "You know I'm not the best at showing my feelings, but that's one of the things I admire about you. You're not afraid to be the one to reach out first, and sometimes I need that. I need clingy."

"Really?" You quirked a brow at him.

"A little, just a little." He warned, trying to hold his hands up in defense, but it was too late, you'd already tackled him.

Hoseok: It was a clear night as the two of you walked around the city, enjoying one of your first proper date nights since he'd got back from tour, and you were taking full advantage of it, trying to keep as close to him as possible, whether holding his hand or wrapping your arms round his waist.

"My clingy baby." He chuckled as you wound yourself around him yet again. It wasn't said unkindly, but for some reason the word kept bouncing around in your head, making you self-consciously shift back to just holding hands. Were you being too clingy? You had always thought that Hobi liked your affectionate nature, but now you were worried if it was a little too much, even for him. Noticing your change in mood, he gave your hand a little squeeze. "You okay?"

"Mhm." You hummed, still thinking.

"You sure?" He asked.

"Am I being too clingy?" You asked, glancing over him.

"What?! Of course not!" He said, stunned. "I was just teasing you earlier, Baby. Trust me, you could never be too clingy for me."

"You sure?" You asked.

"Definitely." He said, opening his arms. "Now get back over here."

Namjoon: Joon had been working almost non-stop for weeks and you could tell it was taking a toll on him, the fatigue clear on his face, but he rebuffed you at every attempt to try and help him relax.

"Can you just give me some goddamn space, you're so clingy!" He'd finally snapped one evening, the final straw in your mind.

That was three days ago, and you hadn't been back to his place since, ignoring his calls and texts. You hated shutting him out the same way he had done you, but you also weren't going stand by and put up with his behavior anymore. If it was space that he wanted, he could have it.

Until you open the door the next morning to a very disheveled looking Joon.

"What are you-?"

"I'm sorry." He blurted out. "For acting the way I have, and for yelling at you like that. I know you just trying to look out for me, you didn't deserve any of that." He paused to catch his breath, seeming to brace himself before looking back up at you. "The past few days have been absolute hell without you, but it made me realize how much I love you, and I know it's shitty timing to say that, but I-"

You shut him up with a quick kiss, knowing if you didn't stop him, he would probably keep talking for at least a half hour.

"You wanna come in?" You asked, to which he quickly nodded.

He still had some apologizing to do, but it was a start.

Jimin: Some day are just shit. Some days feel like you're just circling the drain, constantly the verge of tipping over the edge into the deep abyss, and all you want is something to hold onto and keep you from falling.

Which is why, when Jimin came home late that evening and fell on the bed next to you, you had immediately wrapped yourself around him and refused to let go.

"What's got you so clingy?" He'd teased, trying to tilt your chin up, but you wouldn't let him, tucking your face further into his neck.

"Babe?" He asked, more worried now, noticing you shaking slightly against him. "What's wrong?"

You just shook your head. "Bad day."

"I'm sorry." He said softly, understanding the situation now. "Can I do something? Do you need anything?"

"Just you." You mumbled, your breathing unsteady as you tried to keep from crying.

He held you tighter. "I'm here. I've got you."

Taehyung: "I like this." He mumbled, tracing patterns along your back with his fingers.

"Yeah?"

"Mhm, I like it when you're clingy."

As soon as he'd walked through the door, you had latched onto him, having not seen him in over two weeks while he was traveling.

You frowned, propping yourself up on your hands to look at him. "I'm not clingy."

"That would sound a lot more convincing if you weren't laying on top of me right now." He chuckled.

Shooting him a look, you moved to roll off of him, but he stopped you, holding you tightly by the waist. "Where do you think you're going?"

"I don't wanna be clingy." You said stubbornly.

"But I like it!" He laughed.

"Well, I don't! Being clingy isn't supposed to be a good thing!" You said.

"I think it is, at least the way you do it." He said, rubbing circles on you sides with his thumbs. "It's nice to know that you like me as much as I like you."

"So, you're admitting you're clingy too?" You poked him.

"You had to ask?" He suddenly rolled till you were pinned under him. "Darling, you have no idea how clingy I can be."

Jungkook: It had caught you off guard when you overhead him talking to one of his friends after dinner. "Y/n's the same way, they're so clingy!" He'd laughed. It might have only been a joke, but it cut you deeper than you cared to admit.

You knew you tended to stick him more when you went out, but he'd always seemed okay with it. Till now now anyway.

For the rest of the evening, you couldn't help but shy away a bit from him, keeping a little distance between you, causing him to grow increasingly confused.

"Are you mad a me?" He asked, once you were alone in the car.

"Do you really think I'm clingy? You asked, not bothering to beat around the bush.

"What?"

"That's what you said to Mingyu." You said, looking down.

"That was- I was just joking around." He said trying to keep his tone light, but it became clear by your lack of response that you weren't amused. "I don't think you're clingy."

"Then why say it?"

"Because-" He sighed. "Because I'm an idiot. I was just trying to be cool, and I know that sounds dumb and childish, but I don't know how else to explain it." He looked over at you. "I'm sorry."

You studied him for a moment. "I expect cuddles as compensation for this."

"Of course." He agreed.

"And don't call my boyfriend an idiot."

"You got it." He grinned at you, starting the car.

[fairysluna]

Hello, I hope you are well, I saw that you were accepting requests and I wanted to ask you for one if you can handle the 47. “I-I have never done this before.” "Okay, I'll walk you through it." with creagan stark that boy needs more content here and if it could be in the modern era super sweet anyway

MASTERLIST

Hi, baby! first of all, thank you for sending and trusting me with your request, I absolutely loved it!! And yes, I do agree our babyboy Cregan needs more content, but we're working on it🫡. I hope you like this little - not so little - drabble I wrote for you, dear anon.🤍

PAIRING — Modern!Cregan Stark x Fem!Reader.

TW — porn w/o plot, smut (f!oral sex, face riding, face fucking(?, daddy kink - 1st time writing it pls don't judge, praise, after care), cursing, stablished relationship. If something is missing pls let me know!!

WORD COUNT — 1.6k

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤenglish is not my first language.

“I-I have never done this before,” you confessed. Your cheeks were burning at the touch, completely bewildered by your boyfriend's idea.

"Baby, it's okay, I'll walk you through it,” he reassured you. His deep, gray eyes looking up at you as you stranded his lap. Soft hands touching your naked thighs as his hardness was pressing right beneath your covered wetness.

“What if I accidentally suffocate you? What if I accidentally kill you?” Your naiveness made him laugh, a deep chuckle that was muffled by your neck as he leaned to kiss it again.

“Then it'll be the sweetest death of them all,” he murmured, giving soft bites on your skin - his hands grooping your ass, pulling you closer to him. You hummed when you felt him beneath you, rubbing against you. “Nothing would make me happier than to die with my face buried in your pretty cunt.”

“Cregan!” you scolded him, and he let out another breathy laugh.

“Please, baby, it'll be fine,” he insisted. “If you feel uncomfortable you can tell me, I swear I won't ever get mad at that.” He cupped your face, softly kissing your lips and brushing his nose against yours. “It's just something I really want to do to you, I would love to do it and I know you would love it too… and if I start to feel suffocated I think I'm strong enough to lift you up with no trouble.”

You leaned your head towards his touch. “Are- are you sure?”

“Never been so sure in my life…” he pulled away, looking at your face. “Come on, princess. Don't you wanna ride daddy's face?”

You bit your lower lip, thinking about it for a few seconds. He pouted his lips, puppy eyes almost begging you to say yes. It was hard to resist when he looked so pretty like that - eyes darkened with desire, almost making you drool with such a sight. Gods, you couldn't resist it, you needed him so bad; your whole body ached for him.

So you accepted.

A victorious smile appeared on his swollen lips before he grabbed your waist and slightly pulled you backwards - enough to slip your panties down your legs; he spread them apart, just to see you fully exposed to him. You were wet already, and all it took was a few wet kisses and some soft spanking on your ass; Cregan groaned, drawing circles around your clit, just to tease you.

“Whenever you're ready, baby,” he told you, a subtle smirk appearing on his handsome face.

He withdrew his fingers from your flesh, and you slightly pouted, silently complaining for the lack of stimulation. Cregan leaned back on the bed, pressing his head against the pillows and tapping his chest so you would come closer. You obeyed, crawling on the bed until you positioned your body on top of him.

He stopped you half way there. “Wait,” he said to you, “lemme kiss those pretty lips first.” He grabbed your chin, pulling you closer and reaching your lips with his. He moaned against you when your tongue entered his mouth, rolling and twirling against his in a wet, passionate kiss that left you both breathless.

“What's the safe word?” he questioned in a mumble against your lips.

“Dragonfruit,” you replied.

Shortly after, he gave you a smack on your ass that made you mewl. “That's my good girl. Now,” he murmured, pressing soft kisses all over your face. “Come here...”

You pulled away as you submissively nodded, licking your lips before you felt his hands on your hips, effortlessly moving you around until you were sitting on his chest. “Put your knees at each side of my face- there you go… mhm, such a pretty view I have here…” Your cunt was right in front of him, and you subtly looked down only to see him drooling, your hands were grabbing the headboard of your bed and you nervously sighed. His fingers brushed against your slit, collecting your juices with his digits to then put them on his mouth. You blushed.

“Fucking delicious, baby,” he praised you in a whimper, licking all your arousal from his fingers until there was nothing but his own drool in them. “Go on now, slowly start sitting on me… I won't suffocate, I swear.”

You do what you were told, starting to lower down your body until you feel the tip of his nose pressing against your swollen, needy bud. A gasp escaped from you as his lips started to press kisses on your core. Then, his hands abruptly grabbed your thick thighs, and suddenly you were fully seated on him. Cregan groaned louder than you've ever heard him before, and that was motivation enough to make you slowly move your hips on top of his face.

He would devour you, wet kisses all over your soaking cunt as you cried out, holding onto the headboard with all your strength as you closed your eyes shut, mumbling his name. “Fuck, daddy… just like that…” you would whine, gasping each time he would wrap his thick lips around your clit, sucking harshly, being far from gentle.

You could feel his stubble against your pussy and your inner thighs, adding a pleasuring burn in your flesh that intensified the pleasure. He would adventure further down, teasing your drenching hole with his tongue as his nose rubbed against your sensitive nub. You would moan his name without shame of being heard, it felt so fucking good.

His mouth against you made the most obscene and sinful sounds you've ever heard. He was hungry for you, eating you as if you were his last meal while his arms caged you in your position and making it impossible for you to move away from his skillful mouth. You were trapped, forced to receive all the pleasure he wanted to provide.

You felt his tongue invading your deepest points, he would move it in circles, then draw invisible eights to finally just flick your folds from one side to another until you were shaking on top of him. He would constantly moan against you, mumbling things that you were not able to hear; you would notice how he would move his hips upwards, as if he was trying to have some friction and release. You tried to reach for him, but his grip around your body became tighter, and he sank you deeper onto his face.

Soon the room was filled with the sound of your moans, along with the squeaking of the bed as you started to move your hips on top of him, properly riding him. Cregan would dig his fingertips in your skin, and you knew it would leave marks but you couldn't care less.

One of your hands went to his hair, pulling it as you moved your hips faster, the pleasure making you forget about all your worries from before, and only pushing you to find that desired orgasm that was about to come. Cregan's tongue fucked you so good, giving everything you needed to feel at the verge of extasis. You could feel the familiar knot on your belly, and you felt embarrassed how easy it was for him to take you towards the edge.

“Daddy! Daddy, please! I'm- I'm so fucking close!” you cried out, mumbling and feeling your legs trembling as your grip in his hair became tighter. “Keep- keep doing it, please. Please, please! Don't stop, daddy…”

You heard him moan, those vibrations hit your clit as he returned to suck and nibble on it, licking it so eagerly. You felt a heat running through your veins, your breathing becoming faster and uneven as stars appeared behind your eyelids. And then it snapped. Your body felt backwards as you came hard on his face, your hands barely able to hold your body as you cried out his name.

He let go of you and you squirmed away, sobbing as you closed your legs, trying to stop shaking after the most intense orgasm washed over you. You heard him chuckled, almost mockingly as you did so, and once you opened your teary eyes, your mouth almost dropped.

Cregan was leaning against the headboard, a smirk decorating his face as he looked down at your trembling body. His hair was messy and wet, it was a mixture of his sweat and your release. His lips were red and swollen - covered with your slick, which traveled down his body from his chin to his neck. His whole face was covered in your essence, and he was so fucking pleased because of it.

“It felt good, right?” his voice was so deep, almost sounding like a growl. The tent beneath his boxer was impossible to ignore. He crawled over you, towering your body and peppering kisses all over your chest and neck, while you were still feeling extremely overwhelmed. “Baby, you came so fucking hard… you soaked the bed,” he chuckled, and you felt your cheeks burn. “I love seeing you like this, all because of me. Was it good?”

You nodded.

“I might do that more often, then,” he said, softly giving a kiss to your lips. “You're my beautiful princess, you deserve a throne to sit on.”

A soft laugh left your lips, and Cregan's cock twitched inside his underwear just by the sound of it.

“Sh… just relax,” he softly said. “Gods, I made such a mess out of you, didn't I?” He brushed the messy hair out of your face and you smiled at him. “Are you okay, baby?”

“Never better,” you replied.

“Good,” he nodded before standing on his knees and spreading your legs once more. Your flesh was raw, drenched. “Now, if you allow me… Daddy's gonna fuck his princess' cunny. How does that sound?”

follow @by-fairysluna for updates!!

TAGS — @islandfantasydream

[modmad]

Hey Mod, I don't know what's going on that hurt you, I feel like I missed something that's happened, but I can tell from what I did see that it didn't just hurt you, but scared you and made you feel a Lot of doubt. I've also seen a lot of messages pouring in with support, and I want to share mine.

I have hypermobile type EDS, fibromyalgia, and a whole bucket's worth of faulty wiring in my brain. And I've always had stories to tell but I never felt I was good enough to share them. If it's because I can't focus enough to get through nanowrimo, or because I can't manage the focus and time towards drawing as a hobby, or the fact that an excessive amount of either for me leads to my hands wanting to shut down. But you? You *inspire* me. Your stories, all the ones I've seen, read, experienced in some way or another, they're so good. And you're open and honest with your fans about your own health, and of course, we support you and always would rather you rest and feel as best you can, instead of pushing out something and working yourself too hard. But all of this is to say that. I think I would have given up on my own stories if I hadn't found you and yours.

I hope whatever is going on sorts itself out, I hope you're able to keep telling your stories. At your own pace, in your own way. I think you deserve to be happy. If there's anything we (your fans, especially those of us too awkward to come off anon, whoops,) can do, to help in some way? Even if it's silly videos or cute cat pictures or whatever it is that could just help you smile. We're here. We love you.

woof. I woke up to so many messages I can't even read them all in one go I'm getting too emotional- I do feel I owe an explanation so I'll explain what happened under the cut but all you guys need to know is I'm okay, I got through it, I love you, and you're so important to me and I'm so grateful for all the messages that have asked me to stay.

tw for suicidal thoughts and all that

yeah so I have the bad morning of all mornings: was introduced to the fact there's this one character (Mr Puzzles) on a very popular youtube that. resembles RGB. incredibly strongly. like. I don't want to link to it just look if you want to. Anyway at the time I thought it had just dropped (seems to have been around for 6 months actually), and having commented on it I immediately got an inbox full of hate mail.

My website, meanwhile, had locked both me and my web designer out of it, and- already in a bad state of mind- I went into full on panic/paranoid spiral of 'they have hacked it, and they are going to delete any proof that I was here before them.' This of course wasn't true, and we have since recalimed control of the site (don't know what happened there but hey. it's fine???? haha. ha.)

On top of this my father has terminal cancer of the pancreas, which is horrible for everyone already but it means that- at some point this year- I am going to be the only person with an active income in my house. I am disabled, do not make a lot of money, and the cost of living is skyrocketing. Combine that with months of Despair at the world right now, with the multiple wars, genocide, corruption and AI and the loss of control any of us have over our IP or lives and I just decided it was time to end it all.

I somehow remembered this was a bad idea to act on immediately (hard during a period of entirely irrational thought) and instead went for a very long walk, crossed the bridge I could have jumped off and during that I came out of the worst of it. I then came back home to so much love online I felt deeply ashamed for ever contemplating it, and I cried a lot. My nose is still puffy and now my feet hurt! lmao

Anyway. Yeah. There's your context. I am not going to stop hoping, making, or living. I am prone to moments of weakness and this was one of the worst of them and I am still here, thanks in a large part to all of you. I might need you in the future to defend me against this, or people who take our ideas, but I hope you know that I will do the same for you. We need each other, and to be there for you I need to be here at all.

also fuck Mr Puzzles

[dira333]

diraaaa mattsun anon here!!!! 🗣️🗣️🗣️

can i please request something seijoh 4 related for your plot bun game? dealer’s choice. go hog wild. your writing’s gonna be fantastic either way!!

hello mattsun anon! How nice of you to chime in.

This is really hard, because I don't knooooooowwwww....

"Poor Iwa-chan," Oikawa teases, "I bet you'd get a girlfriend too if you tried not looking so scary all the time."

"No no," you disagree, "the girls dig it."

Mattsun snorts. "Which ones? The First-Years just run away all the time when he comes close."

"No, they just run away when they see you," Makki says, kicking your foot with his like he's doing his own version of a low-five.

"Very funny," Iwaizumi drawls, squinting at Oikawa. "And who says I can't get a girlfriend?"

"The fact that you don't have one?"

"At least I'm not just liked for my looks."

"At least I have looks people like me for."

"Guys, guys, you're both pretty," you wave a hand in between them, "but we still need to finish this group project. I'm not letting Tatsumo be first in class this year."

"Just date him," Mattsun drawls out lazily, "isn't he totally in love with you."

You pull a face as Makki snickers. Iwaizumi and Oikawa are still lost in their bickering.

-

"You know I'm a girl, right?" You ask Iwaizumi on the way home, Makki and Mattun walking ahead of you, Oikawa and his girlfriend a few steps behind.

"Yeah, why?" Iwaizumi musters you under furrowed brows.

"Just checking."

-

"There are no more chairs," Kindaichi calls out when you enter, "shall I get some more from the basement?"

"No, that would take too long," Oikawa looks like he's been waiting on all of you for hours when it had just been a few minutes. "You can just sit on the floor."

"No way, I don't want to get a UTI," you scan the room, "anyone letting me sit in their lap?"

"I volunteer Iwaizumi," Mattsun hollers.

"Yeah, strongest thighs in all Seijoh," Makki adds and although the ace blushes slightly, he nods, shoulders squared.

"Sit down," Oikawa orders immediately, "I wanna get started. Why do team meetings always take so damn long?"

"You good?" Iwaizumi asks, his mouth next to your ear.

He sounds completely unaffected. You are going to die.

-

"Would you please become my girlfriend?"

You stare down at the chocolate. Tatsumo went through all the effort of drawing your name on it with colored sugar.

"Sorry, I-" There's a noise that has you look up. Iwaizumi's at the door, an unreadable expression on his face.

"Didn't want to interrupt," he says, turning away. When you reach the door he's already out of sight.

There's no use running after him now, so you turn back, rejection already sitting on your tongue.

-

"So?" Mattsun settles in the seat on your left. "Did you confess to Iwaizumi?"

"What did he say?" Makki asks, leaning in from your right. "He looked constipated today."

"He walked in on Tatsumo confessing to me."

"Oh." Mattsun nods. "Well, maybe now he'll realize you're a girl."

You close your eyes for a moment.

"It doesn't matter," you tell them when you open your eyes again. "I've decided that I'm not staying in Japan anyway."

"You're leaving us?" Mattsun blinks, clearly surprised. "Really?"

"Yeah," you nod, fiddling with your fingers, "I just need... I just need to get away, you know?"

-

Your bags are packed and checked in, your passport sits safely in your purse and you've triple-checked that you're at the right Gate.

Nothing can go wrong now on this adventure, you're sure, even if your heart breaks a little.

But surely, on a different continent, in a different timezone, you'll find yourself. Isn't that how it always works?

Someone gets up from one of the chairs. Behind him, you spot a well-known bag, the color unmistakably Seijoh.

"Iwaizumi? What are you... Are you going to California too?"

[abyssalzones]

hey anon! I debated most of this morning what the best way to respond to your ask would be because I'm not going to lie to you it almost made me cry. hopefully a drawing is okay. I wasn't sure whether it was my place to share what you've sent but I did want to answer you properly, and it ended up getting kind of long... so I'll put that under the cut here (sa mention)

First of all you definitely have nothing to apologize for, a major element of my analysis (and what had made me so nervous to post it to begin with) was that it came from a very personal place, and I knew if I posted it I was going to be opening up a lot of doors. good or bad I honestly had no idea but I really hadn't anticipated such an overwhelmingly positive response, and I especially hadn't imagined so many people to share their own experiences with abuse and how what I wrote meant something in relation to that. it makes me extremely glad I bit the bullet and allowed myself to be a little vulnerable about something I enjoy.

there's something almost uniquely weird about being a victim and seeing yourself in a story but not knowing how to express that. it feels like one of those things you can't really say without crossing an extreme line, and any parallels you might be able to draw are therefore Reaching, biased by your own experiences. I've struggled with this a lot as someone who uses art not only as an outlet but a voice for my experiences- and what experiences I think deserve to not only be treated with respect but honesty. there's a lot to be said about the alienation of the victim from the rest of society when sexual assault is so overwhelmingly common in our world, and how difficult it can be to find truthful and respectful depictions of these experiences in... anything, pretty much.

I have no idea if that's what they were trying to do specifically, from a textual angle. but I do think it's possible, and am confident that they at least drew on the subject (both in the instance of Bill coercing Ford to drink and the scene later where Ford is paralyzed), which was honestly what led me to write the analysis in the first place. That "he's kinda like me" moment you describe is something I'd had for a long time but had never been able to say confidently without feeling like I was reading between the lines. But I think you're right. and I think there is a real reason why such a story could speak to people in that way, could be so important for the process of recovery... we can't always conceptualize what happens to us from our own perspective, y'know? we're trapped in our own minds for the most part. so I think fiction works excellently as a way to work through these things and see our worst struggles in someone else- and to come to vitally important realizations of our own.

anyway, all that to say I'm so glad what I wrote helped you come to that realization. hearing that makes me feel like I've done something not only to help myself find some closure, but for others to as well :] healing is always, always possible and I sincerely hope you find your happiness as Ford has, and as I've found mine.

[ballblender]

Could I request some headcanons for GoM + Kiyoshi helping their scared s/o on the train? I’ve never been on one before and I’d be so nervous. Death grip on their hands fr

a/n: Thanks for the ask!! I'll also include Kagami if that's okay! :) Btw anon, i recommend trying out the train (unless you live rural and far away from a station, or already know how to drive lol), it's honestly so convenient :) also jshdghd they might ooc because i honestly haven't watched the show in almost a year

GoM + Kiyoshi comforting their scared S/O on the train

cw: fluff, gn reader, idk - trains???, not proofread, my writing is never proofread LOL

Kuroko

"Y/N...what are you doing?"

It's a strange sight to see his usually smiley and happy partner currently cowering as the train rumbles. The carriage is full of passengers, standing tall above the pair.

"Don't laugh but, I...I don't use the train very often...or ever, at that."

Kuroko's face contorts to confusion.

"...so, this must be scary for you, right, Y/N?" Kuroko asks, smiling reassuringly as you bod in response.

"That's okay, I'm here with you. Just hold my hand."

He wasn't expecting you to grab onto him like he was your saviour, but giggled softly anyway.

He kisses your cheek, whispering how he'll have to take you out on dates more often so you can get used to the train.

Kagami

(having a little liberty this time since he wasn't technically part of the ask)

When your boyfriend told you that he'd show you around America, you were excited, as you should've been. Not much about the place seemed to matter to you right now though, as you stand, cramped up in the damp-smelling train of the New York City Subway.

Kagami himself appears unfazed by the way the carriage rumbles, the random coughing from every direction, the flickering lights, not even the rat licking up an old coffee stain on the floor.

"Taiga..."

"Yeah, what's up?"

"...I-I wasn't prepared for America to be this...how do i put it...ratholey?

Kagami laughs out loud, smiling broadly.

"That's a good way to describe New York."

You chuckle along with him, each other's laughter serving as a better light than whatever was short-circuiting above you both.

You hold his hand, and he holds yours, resting his palm on your thigh, as he rubs your knee with his thumb.

"LA is better than this, I promise."

Aomine

"Idiot...why are you scared?"

You can practically feel Aomine's mocking smirk forming, even if your eyes are shut and your face is buried in his chest.

"I don't use trains...you know I walk to school..."

Aomine's eyes roll as he sighs.

"Well, better get used to it now, or how are you gonna live in this city as an adult?"

It's these occasional moments of wisdom that draw you to Aomine. Until he of course ruins it.

"Unless you want me to piggyback you everywhere like a baby."

"Shut up."

He chuckles, stroking a few loose strands of your hair from your face.

"Kidding. I'm not gonna break my back carrying your ass."

You huff in annoyance at his comment, your hands finding his as your face buries into his chest even harder. He chuckles, squeezing your hand and kissing the crown of your head.

"I told you to shut up."

Midorima

"Oha Asa predicted (Your Star Sign) would not suffer any misfortunes today, you shouldn't worry." Midorima says this so matter-of-factly, it's scary.

"I-I know that...but it's still scary, Shin."

Midorima casually wraps a hand around your shoulder and pulls you slightly closer to him.

"You really should travel by train more often. In the future, what if a job you want requires you to travel by train? Don't be scared." he says his last sentence with a little smile, an uncharacteristic one at that, yet you find it so endearing.

Midorima has always been like this, acting less like a boyfriend, and more like a proper spouse, a husband you can share anything with, and be free of judgement, well, except from Oha Asa's.

You then feel him slip a small bangle onto your wrist.

"Your lucky item today is a silver bangle. But, I want you to wear it whenever you go on a train, okay? In fact, wear it everywhere, then I'll be with you."

You look down at the bangle, admiring the small 'M' engraved along it.

"I will...I'll wear it all the time. Thank you, Shin."

As he takes hold of your hand, you suppress a giggle; he'd already given you your lucky item earlier that day, a animal eraser. He must've been looking for an excuse to spoil you.

Murasakibara

The carriage rumbling: the murmurs of students: the ringing of phones. It was a lot to take in, especially since the last time you used the train was when you were a kid.

It especially didn't help that your giant of a boyfriend was crunching on snacks, the sound only adding to your unease.

"Mmph...this flavour's nice."

"Atsushi."

He turns to you and swallows the mouthful.

"Yeah, Y/N?"

"Could you...hold my hand?"

"Ehh? But how will I eat my snacks?"

"...use your other hand."

"But that hand's for holding the bag!"

This little dispute carries on for a while until he suggests, and you (hesitantly) decide to sit on his lap, perched on his thighs as he continues chomping away.

Weirdly, you do feel safe. Too bad you'll be getting crumbs all over you.

Kise

"So then my boss told me that-"

Although Kise is great at telling his stories, both about his modeling work and about Kasamatsu's never-ending impatience with him, you truly couldn't care less in this moment.

Your shoulders press together as the carriage shakes. The contact is hot and unpleasant, despite Kise's joyful face.

Your forehead begins to sweat, the air in the train is damp and humid.

"Kise, c-can you stop talking for just a second?"

"E-eh? Why? I was just getting to the good part!"

"I really don't feel well..."

Upon your words, Kise looks up at the announcement bar, and grabs your hand.

"Come on, Y/N, let's get off at this station."

"Huh? This isn't our stop though..."

He chuckles, the train coming to a stop, as he leads you out.

"I can't have you fainting on me! Let's cool down with a drink or something, my treat!"

You smile at the offer.

"Alright."

Akashi

While you and Akashi would usually walk together, or get rides in his limo, today he decided to use the train. You honestly didn't question it, Akashi always had his reasons for doing what he did.

What you forgot, however, was that you've never actually been on the train before.

It's more...suffocating than you were imagining, despite passing by the beautiful hills and landscapes. Akashi is drawn to them, staring out of the window with a small smile painted across his face.

You, however, can't ignore the other passengers. The sneezing lady, the sniffling office worker, the crying baby. It's a lot all at once.

"Y/N? ...What are you doing?"

You realize that, subconsciously, you covered your ears with your hands.

"Ah, sorry."

"...Do you not like the train?"

"...I...i've just never been on one before..."

A slight silence forms between the two of you.

Akashi's fingers slowly find yours.

As your hands squeeze together, you know it'll be alright.

Kiyoshi

You're with the rest of the Seirin team, walking back from a game (Kiyoshi managed to convince Riko to let you watch from the bench), when Riko rounds up everybody to get their attention.

"Okay everybody! We have to meet up early tomorrow, so let's get the next train out of here."

Everybody nods in agreement, and you realise, you've never actually been on a train before. Kiyoshi's hand squeezes yours as soon as your expression changes.

"Y/N? What's wrong?"

"I've...never been on a train before."

He blinks for a moment.

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah..."

Kiyoshi chuckles.

"Well, what is it that you're so afraid of?"

"Just...never thought i'd have to go on one."

Kiyoshi chuckles again, shaking his head slightly.

"We'll have to go on dates more often to help you get used to it then."

-------

a/n 2: sorry for the lack of posts, and more sorry to this anon for how late this post is. ill try better to post more often hehe

[parasolemn]

doodle of Authority? it is my fav skill...

ehe. whoopsies! sorry anon it's been. A Month. and no end in sight

anyways images for you

you can probably already tell some of these are. Older. but yea. there was a lot of "well it's just a doodle I don't need to go super hard on these" and then "this is awful we need to start over" so. there's. a lot of images. most I've drawn this freak ever actually

deserved though. big thanks to my New Buddy who made me see the light like two months ago. he [LONG RAMBLE I DELETED] 🤨 UUGHHH I can't go off on a ramble about authority rn I'm unnormal about him sadly but I have so many words in my brain about him and all the other skills ue ue ue

i should post images...

i did some doodles in my book too when i was working but. eeeh? wasn't really sure if this was what you were after either... also I always take an opportunity to draw encyclopedia hi ency hi. i love throwing ency at the other skills i love thinking about skill interactions

don't mind the date on the last image I accidentally dated it 1st jan instead of 1st feb and couldn't be fucked to fix it. as I said, Old (can i even say stuff is old if it's a month old. uhm. wll i changed my art style so it counts)

parcark: nobody else is autistic about DE skills like you are they won't want to see them blorbified in an ooc but funny way. also parcark:

this was not worth a month's wait. oops.

COUGHCOUGH BY THE WAY . volition design is from @tubrasko (this wasnt the image i asked you abt btw i'm doing a larger one than this RN!!!! grins) suggestion design is from @vesli1 sorry for butchering your boy a bit I only had a pen my pencil broke 💔 empathyyy i stole from @trialofasphodel waves at you Hi ! i know both of u have seen these imgs b4 btw srry for re @ ing you the auth and drama designs are froommmm spilledkaleidoscope I won't @ that's scary.cough

love him. ok bye anon !! i hope you don't mind i know these aren't the best quality o7

[cosmerelists]

If the "Chicken Dinner" Tradition Existed in the Cosmere...

"Chicken dinner" post requested by anon. :)

If you're not familiar with it, this is the "chicken dinner post." Basically, it's a tradition that Someone on the Internet has created, where you and a friend tear apart and eat an entire rotisserie chicken with your bare hands, fighting over it the whole time. Look, the post I linked explains it better.

Anyway, let's say this tradition (and also rotisserie chickens) existed throughout the Cosmere...

1. Sadeas & Dalinar: Firsthand Observations by Jasnah

--There was but a moment of sizing each other up from the edges of the tarp before both men charged directly at the chicken

--Dalinar kept his feet but Sadeas dove and so got the chicken first. He was able to get a few bites in before Dalinar dove onto him from above.

--There is now intense wrestling over the chicken.

--I observe that while Sadeas appears focused on getting as much chicken into his mouth as possible, Dalinar appears to be more focused on pinning his opponent to the mat--I mean, the tarp

--How did both men lose their shirts?

--Dalinar does now have Sadeas pinned, but the chicken is directly in front of Sadeas' head and he is STILL biting at it. I am not convinced that Dalinar has actually consumed any chicken at all.

--Sadeas has at length grown still. Dalinar has picked up the remains of the chicken carcass and is now holding it in both hands while he consumes it over Sadeas' prone form. However, I do observe that the most choice bits of the chicken do appear to have been consumed already--by Sadeas

--If this is a game with a winner, I do not know how to declare it in this case.

2. Tress & Huck: A Post-Chicken-Dinner Conversation

Tress: A-Again, I'm REALLY sorry. Huck: You don't have anything to be sorry about! Tress: Going in, I thought: well, it's just food, and Huck and I are friends, and I don't see why we can't just share the chicken peacefully. Tress: ... Tress: I don't know WHAT came over me! I ripped that chicken apart! I think I was growling at some point! Huck: Can confirm. Tress: A-And, worst of all... Tress: ... Tress: I can't believe I HELD you in one hand and ate the chicken with my other w-while LAUGHING that you were just a tiny helpless rat! Huck: Yeah, I sure hope that didn't awaken anything in me. Tress: ...what? Huck: A-Anyway, I think it was good for you to let go! Be wild and feral! It's probably healthy! Tress: It was...oddly freeing. Huck: That's the spirit!

3. Steris Rates People's Greatest Strength in Chicken Dinner Combat

--Wax: Airtime. Is able to fling himself and the chicken into the air and eat a great deal of it before they both land again

--Wayne: Hand-to-hand technique, lack of fear. Not afraid to get in close and literally eat chicken out of his opponent's hands

--Marasi: Surprising levels of savagry

--MeLaan: Stuck the entire chicken into her body, through her ribs. May be considered cheating

--Myself: No particular strengths. Did create a Chicken Eating Suit out of the same material as a tarp, and did replace the Central Chicken with a Fake Decoy while hiding the Actual Chicken in a place only I knew, thus securing my victory

4. A Series of Drawings by Shallan, Commemorating the 4 v. 1 Chicken Duel

[Adolin running toward the central chicken, alone, while four figures in Shardplate charge in from the opposite side]

[Abrobadar eating a chicken wing in triumph in front of Renarin, who is kneeling on the tarp]

[Kaladin Stormblessed, gloryspen swirling around him, holding up an entire chicken thigh on the end of his spear]

[Adolin sitting on a shouting Jakamov while he, Kaladin, and Renarin share the last of the chicken]

5. An Apology Letter Penned by Valette, To Elend

Dear Elend,

Sazed says that an apology letter is traditional after "something like yesterday." He is helping me write this.

I am sorry that I strangled your fiancée during our chicken dinner bout yesterday. When Shan Elariel grabbed that chicken thigh, I was overcome by an uncontrollable desire to take it from her by any means possible. And though I did win, strangling her while shouting that I was the Queen of Chicken was impolite.

I am also sorry that I punched your brother so many times. Zane was not even supposed to be there, but when he showed up and tried to take a bit out of the chicken while I was holding it, well, something came over me. But when he collapsed next to your still-unconscious fiancée, I did feel a moment of guilt...but only a moment, as I was soon overcome by the delicious Victory Chicken I was enjoying.

Finally, I am sorry that I also attacked your father. He wasn't even trying to get the chicken. But he was there. And he was looking at it. And I feel like the Zane thing was his fault. But I understand that it was probably disconcerting when a small woman covered in chicken juices launched at him suddenly while screaming.

I hope we can still be friends.

Sincerely,

Valette

6. Hoid & Kelsier: A Pre-Chicken-Dinner Conversation

Kelsier: I thought you couldn't eat meat. Hoid: Not if it's from a dead animal, no. Kelsier: And you can't perform violence. Hoid: Nope. Kelsier: ... Kelsier: So what are we even doing here? Hoid: Did you know that I was once challenged to a duel? Kelsier: Why would I know that? Hoid: Do you know what I did? Kelsier: [Looks to the side where Jasnah stands, wearing a giant apron that says "It's Chicken Eatin' Time", eyes glinting] Kelsier: [grins] I do love a fight I can't win...

[vendetta-if]

Hello

Winter break is over... and I'm not handling it well 🥲 (plz wish me luck).

But I was hoping that you could write (if you have time) some fluffy facts about Luka and Jackals relationship to counteract the soul sucking parasite that is school and work.

Thats all, hope you have a wonderful day! Byeeeeeeeee

Hang in there, anon and all the other readers 🥺 Time flies and soon it would hopefully be Summer break. And of course, I’d love to talk more about Luka and Jackal 🤭☺️

Luka was the one who ended up confessing his feelings first. It was not planned whatsoever, and one morning, he was just overwhelmed by his feelings and finally acknowledged it. (You can read the side story about it here [part 1, part 2]), if you haven’t 😉)

Even though Jackal has always been pretty insecure about the glaring scar on his lips, Luka has always been fond of it and tried to make Jackal feel more comfortable with it.

During the early days of them sleeping together, neither of them had ever stayed the night. Most of the time, it was Jackal who came over to Luka’s place instead of the reverse, and one night, Luka just grabbed his arm, stopping him from getting off the bed and leaving. Luka was the first one who asked him to stay and against his better judgement, Jackal relented.

Jackal loves laying his head on Luka’s chest and just listens to his heartbeat. His haemokinesis makes it easier for him to feel and listen to heartbeat and he is sure that he would be able to pick out Luka’s in a crowd of other people.

Jackal enjoys being the small spoon (not that he will ever say it out loud). It makes him feel safe and even though he’s more than capable of defending himself, it just feels nice to finally have someone he trusts so much that he can let his guard down completely.

Luka is on a mission to catch Jackal up on some movies that he likes and the ones that he thinks Jackal will like. Jackal’s not a film buff like Luka, but the thing he enjoys the most out of their movie nights is seeing Luka just talking enthusiastically about the movies. He thinks it’s cute that Luka has a dorky side that only he and some people Luka’s close to are privy of.

Jackal usually enjoys making simple breakfast for both himself and Luka whenever he wakes up earlier than Luka, like tomato and egg stir fry with white rice or steamed egg. Is also the one who first introduced Luka to the joy of eating instant ramen. (Jackal’s okay in cooking, but when he was living by himself, he rarely cooked and mostly just ordered takeouts).

Ever since Jackal spends more and more of his time at Luka’s place, Luka has started to pay more attention to what stuff are in his pantry and fridge. He wants to make sure that whatever food Jackal wants to cook or eat is available. Of course, since Luka’s mostly busy, he has relegated that task mostly to the house butler, Sebastian, who also takes initiative to learn cooking more variety of Asian food, specifically Chinese food.

Not sure whether this is fluffy, but I’m gonna include it here anyway 😂 Jackal likes to give Luka some love nips/nibbles hard enough to draw a little blood before kissing and licking it closed. Luka’s just used to it by now and just considers it Jackal’s version of giving hickies, but without actually leaving marks behind.

[biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer]

Imagine a poly relationship w/ geo and crowe just to spite sol 😹

The More the Merrier (Crowe + Geo x MC/Reader - Relationship HCs)

I'M NOT DEAD I SWEAR I'M JUST WORKING ON 4 ONESHOTS SIMULTANEOUSLY!!!! (2 of them will be out by the upcoming Tuesday I promise <3333)

Anyway, to the two anons who requested this, I pray you'll enjoy. I actually kinda cooked on this one muahahaha. >:]

- Signed by biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer T.W.: Mentions of sex, nothing explicit.

The more the merrier: a proverb indicating something is more fun with more people.

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

This is your formal reminder from me as to how lucky you are to have scored both of these pretty tumblrsexymen.

Crowe is essentially the furnace of you three. He’s warm, fuzzy and comfortable. and hot

He basically serves as the mediator for conflicts, and his charisma often means he gets people to like you lot more (because he’s nice af plus rich)

Geo’s the cold one, and he is often the ‘bodyguard’ of you and Crowe, he often looms behind you both with the most ornery side eye anyone has ever seen. He’s also your #freepass. Literally anywhere he goes, he gets VIP (and so do you and Crowe muahaha)

Did I mention rich? 

As in…both are so fucking wealthy it gives you a brain aneurysm????

AS IN BOTH CAN AFFORD PRIVATE JETS AND IT NOT MAKE A DENT IN THEIR ACCOUNTS?!?!??!?!?!!?!!?!??

It’s actually crazy.

Unfortunately, being rich means you’re all targets, mostly you though, because you’re the most financially ‘average’ of the trio.

Geo often has his bodyguards supervise you and Crowe 24/7.

This guy will set rottweilers on his enemies if he must, preferably the ravenous ones. <33

Crowe and Geo (especially Geo) are the type to wear extremely stylish things if needed, so you know your fashion sense is in good hands.

However, they both also have extremely comfortable homeclothes (imagine Geo being stuffed into an oodie or smth that’d be so funny…someone draw that right fucking now)

I headcanon that Crowe knows French and Italian, so you’ve got him rizzing you up in European romantic languages and then Geo lovingly dissing you in Japanese.

They’re opposite extremes on the spectrum. And you got the best of both worlds, so.

Remember that.

>:]

Anyway, when it comes to domestic life Geo is the cook, he just chills in the kitchen and prepares the most elaborate fancy food anyone’s ever made in the history of the universe (Geode powers activate!!!)

Geo also knows how to do makeup extremely well, while I’d say Crowe is more skilled in the hair department (they’re both magical when it comes to cosmetics).

Crowe would be the one to do shopping and get surprise gifts for you both.

Geo would only really buy fake plants for himself (real quick shout out to past me for coming up with the #bonsaibaby term for the eventual tree child Geo and I will have), so the home will be opulent and fancy (because of Crowe), while maintaining a somewhat minimalistic and naturistic appeal (because of Geo) and just being a generally comfortable residence (because of us >:})

You are kinda just told to not do anything except exist. They both feel obligated to ensure you’ve got the best life possible, and you bet your attractive ass you’re getting a banger life.

Oh also, just a quick heads up, if you and Crowe are having sex, make sure Geo is far away. You do not want this man to be projectile vomiting for the next two thousand minutes, it’d be very ungraceful for someone like him.

Speaking of sex, you and Crowe just kinda have it when you both feel like it.

You both sleep together I’d feel, Geo’d sleep elsewhere. Not because he doesn’t like you both (he loves you both lol), it’s merely the cultural differences between Asian and most Western/European nations and the fact that you and Crowe can just have sex whenever and he doesn’t wanna be involved or remotely nearby if that happens.

If you and Crowe solemnly swear to never fuck however, then Geo may or may not spawn inside your bed at some point and just squish you both into his much taller frame (usually you). he may or may not make you sign a contract on celibacy /hj

At this point you’re trapped between a living refrigerator and a breathing heater.

omg temperature play!

You'll hang out whenever and wherever it’s peaceful. Like y’all can just be stu(dying) and/or nonchalantly reading together and it’d be amazingly serene.

Geo will also be drinking tea 24/7. This man breathes…no, inhales that shit. He also will totally not blare Scaramouche's boss theme around your residence.

Geode is a Scaramouche kinnie I refuse to hear backlash on this.

He also is the most knowledgeable when it comes to medicine, so if one of you three gets sick, he’s gonna be the doctor (he is his own doctor ffs this man is too based to be lying in bed and dying).

Crowe is essentially the emotional support for you three, like he and Geo are polar opposites but that’s okay. One's weakness is the other's strength and vice versa. Whatever they both lack (having and being a pussy), you make up for.

At this point you don’t even know if you’re the hinge or not, you just serve as the ‘hearth’ of this relationship.

And frankly, good for you. Like that’d be fucking awesome.

And just a final thing…

Did I mention that they're rich fashionistas?

[lowkeyrobin]

hi! how are u???

i was wondering if you could do mcyt x reader where they go to an amusement park? i don't realky know the specifics :P

it's totally fine if not!

also, could i please be 🦑 anon?

your writing is so good, btw :3

ooo okay I can try! ; and welcome 🦑! (I'm gonna consistently think this is an umbrella academy fan goodnight 💀) hope you enjoy your stay! ; and thank you, I appreciate it! <3

MCYT ; amusement park

includes ; tommyinnit, badlinu, maxggs, quackity & slimecicle

warnings ; language

disclaimers ; idk anything about amusement parks outside kennywood and disneyworld so probably using references and names here / may be mixed up cause I don't remember all the different places / pretend like it's in Europe for tommy, freddie & max and in america for Charlie & Quackity

masterlist

TOMMYINNIT

he's so fuckin scared of the rides with insane heights that go really fast

soooo many pictures

he will NOT be going on them unless it's to impress you (shout out university crush)

if there's any water rides he's forcing you on them 🗣🗣

he buys any snacks/food or little souvenirs you want lol

you both go home tired and lowkey sleep on the train and almost miss ur stop

you're probably vlogging too

"guys, Tommy's scared of the phantom"

"look at that fuckin thing! I'm not going on that, ill fly out!"

"true, you're a six foot twig"

"I swear to god, y/n..."

FREDDIE BADLINU

he's getting on most rides w you

he loves the swings lmao

you got a handful of pics but you're mostly living in the moment

dippin dots go crazy

you go on the little kids rides for shits and giggles and adults are looking at u like 🤨😒

yk on that Winnie the Pooh ride line there's the screens and it's like honey and u can draw on it temporarily? yall stood there for a solid 10 mins cause the long line drawing dicks and random stuff

ice cream!!!! it's so good

you make a tiktok

"wheres harry potter land??"

"....y/n were at disneyworld"

it's your mission to piss of Disney adults

MAXGGS

literally up for anything

he got you both silly sunglasses and you wore them around all day

you literally go on Kalis River Rapids twice because why not

you SPRINT for Tianas Bayou Adventure (I wanna go so bad to see this omfg)

he makes you re-ride the barnstormer like 5 times (me core)

you immediately go for the fast paced / thrilling rides like space mountain and tower of terror (ik these are different just pretend I can't remember many rides...)

then at the end of the day you do the safari ride / avatar ride / ykwim

so many cute pics and videos 💔 literally spammed ur Instagrams when u got back

ALEX QUACKITY

he does not wanna go on things like space mountain or thunder mountain bro

you make him get on them anyway unless he just genuinley doesn't want to, you'll go with a friend if there is another person with you / alone and he'll wait / vlog from a safe spot

you meet a lot of characters and get pics all day long & they were so nice 💔

"OMG Y/N ITS OLAF"

he nearly vomits after the teacups...

you go on the pirates of the caribbean ride and he tries to speak like sparrow the whole time in line

you get some little leather bracelets with each other's names on them at the end in the little store (I had one but idk where it is anymore I'm so mad)

he keeps saying "I'm not hungry" ans when u stop for food he literallt devours his ice cream and hot dog bro

"I thought u weren't hungry???"

"... I was waiting for u to want food"

CHARLIE SLIMECICLE

literally the funnest ever

he's getting on everything istg

yall chill in the swiss family tree house when u need a break from walking / grab a drink and go to the enchanted tiki room to escape the heat entirely

over food you speculate what they may add for the little villain land they're planning (holy shit so excited for this even tho I'm probably never gonna be able to go again)

haunted mansion went crazy 💀 trust the vlog is funny asf

"woahhh that ghost looks like me!"

"yeah if you were dead"

"wanna go to mickeys philharmagic after this?"

"that's across the park.."

"we can make it lol"

he's on it with the puns idek how

u want a souvenir of any kind? he's got u trust

[sungbeam]

𝐧𝐨 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬

hwang intak x gn!reader

1k words, hurt/comfort, soft things, mentions of anxiety/being overwhelmed, mentions of discomfort around family members, head kiss, intimacy

a/n: requests now closed! *sighs* i love him 🙁 thank you to the anon who requested this! hope this brings u comfort <3

He found you perched on the curbside outside the restaurant, the sounds of merriment muffled as the front door closed behind him. You glanced up from your phone to watch him take a seat beside you, his head tucked into a black beanie and hands coming out of his jacket pockets to rest behind him.

"I saw you leave a few minutes ago, but I wasn't sure if you wanted to be alone or not," Hwang Intak murmured and tilted his head in your direction, eyes glued to the establishment across the street to watch people pass by the window. "I'm okay, here, right? I can leave if you don't want me here."

You notched your phone off and set it under your thigh. "No, it's okay," you said, drawing circles on the street. "I just… couldn't stand being around them for too long."

He looked at you now, dark, round eyes really looking at you. Your posture was off, your hair covered your face. Everything about tonight was so off, and he was hitting himself in the head for not seeing it sooner. "I didn't know you were so uncomfortable around your relatives."

You had invited Intak to come to a holiday gathering with your family this evening. They had booked out the mom and pop shop on Main Street that served a taste of home. You'd originally been nervous about inviting him, since the two of you only recently became an item, but you should have never doubted him. Your family seemed to love him anyways, but then again, they always did seem to adore everyone but you. There was always something to complain about.

"Yeah, I mean…" you swallowed. You suddenly found it hard to look him in the eyes. Maybe you were embarrassed. Didn't he say he had a good relationship with his family and relatives? "They're just a little much for me sometimes and I get a little overwhelmed. I'm sure they mean well and stuff but I can't—sometimes I can only handle being around them in small doses."

Intak was quiet for a moment as he considered this, a frown flitting over his pretty features.

You covered your knees with your palms. "I'm sorry I pretty much ditched you, by the way," you added with a grimace. "That wasn't very cool of me."

"It's okay; you needed some air, and I get that."

He had said it so simply that you were almost stunned. He was being so understanding about this, and yet, you still felt awful. Here he was, someone you envisioned to be near perfect, and here you were… You cleared your throat, eyes pinned to the ground. "Thanks for being here tonight. I know it must have been intimidating to meet my entire extended family in one night."

He gave a warm chuckle that enveloped your body in an audible hug. "No worries, honey. I was actually really excited to just, I dunno, hang out with you for a holiday that was important to you."

Your heart soared, and you turned your head to look at him.

Intak pressed his lips into a smile. "And it doesn't matter if we're in there or out here—I get the overwhelming part, I really do. We can take it at your pace."

The two of you shared a smile. The cliché was always that actions spoke louder than words, and he had just wielded both of them in emphasizing his respect and consideration for you. It was Intak who was making your jitters decrease and your worries lessen. You suddenly focused less on trying to drown out the sounds of people in the building behind you, and instead, on the boy next to you.

When you sat in a moment of silence, you saw his hand inch towards yours on the pavement out of the corner of your eye. Your lips curled upwards in a small smile as you angled your fingers to touch his.

Your eyes met again. "It's okay to hold my hand, you know. I won't break."

His smile was bashful as he laced your fingers together with his and tested your interwoven hands on the sidewalk. He scooted over to you and you met him in the middle, until you could set your hands on your knees, legs and arms pressed together. "You know that I won't judge you for your hardships, whatever they are," he said to you, setting his free palm over your hands to warm them.

"I know," you whispered. You knocked your head against his shoulder affectionately, and he patted your hands in acknowledgment. "I just never know what to do with all of this anxiety and I've never really met anyone who I could trust with them."

Intak took his bottom lip between his teeth. "I'm sorry you've ever felt that way."

"You don't need to apologize. It's not your fault."

"I hope I never make you feel this way, if I can help it," he said to you with a slight pout. "We can learn how to take on your anxieties together, maybe?"

A smile wormed itself onto your face and you leaned your head on his shoulder now. "Stop being so cool."

He laughed, the sound soft, yet brighter than the lights from the surrounding restaurants. "I just care about you." His words warmed you again, and you felt his lips press against the crown of your head.

"I know," you said quietly. "I care about you, too. Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me," he hummed. "Know any good dessert places around here? We can get ice cream and then come back in time to say goodbye?"

It was like he was a mind-reader. You made a comment about a favorite gelato place just down the block, and the two of you wasted no time in dusting your pants and setting off down the street. He never let go of your hand—only letting the pair swing between your bodies as he made you smile again and again and again.

p1h m.list

permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @kaaimins @shakalakaboomboo @bless-311 @leaz-kpop-life @pxppxrminty @fluorescentloves @mosviqu @haechansbbg @kflixnet @http-gyu @mvvnsseul @outrologist

[howlsofbloodhounds]

Erm so I. Accidentally started ranting. Oopsies

I think it's silly to draw Killers soul in a constant target shape in erm found family kinda trope. Yk. When everyone gets along and is happy and they also jokingly bully Killer and excessive amount. And Killers in stage 2 through all of it. How honest is Killer truly being?

And also (going off track) why does he get bullied an excessive amount, because I see no love coming from that,, to like jokingly shit on someone, yeah, sure I understand, people do that, it can be funny, but it's just.... so much..... like. Killer can't even breathe without being shit on. Maybe saying he's getting shit on is not the best way to word it but,,,,,,, anyways Killer gets bullied so much I don't even. I can't even see it as funny anymore. He gets bullied, and no affection given, and it's even more deprivating seeing how the others who surround him, the group he's supposedly a part of, is all love and affection and they obviously share affection and all 'at

And then there's Killer. Only there to mess things up and harass everyone. He talks too much, and when getting ignored he starts talking about sensitive topics for something to come out of the other. Just something to say he's real, something to show he's somehow still a part of whatever this is. He's not treated as an outside, but he sure as hell ain't being treated as someone that matters. It shouldn't bother him though. The treatment isn't new, he's used to this, he's fine. He shouldn't be petty about not getting a lil affection

Killers literally so hated that the version of horror that's so desperate to keep everyone healthy and to not let anyone starve, literally leaves Killer to starve for a day. Sighs idk I'm just not dealing with Killer constantly getting bullied all the time,,,, it's funny every now and then but Jesus it's so excessive I can't even— anyways I have no solution for this because the best situation is to leave the ones hurting you but. Sighsssssssss

I'm just. Stopping myself here, imma go eat

No, i completely understand you, anon. I used to also be a target of excessive bullying (both in school and in my family unit), so that shit doesn’t appeal to me. It’s not funny or cute, especially when it’s done to a character whose use that type of treatment and far worse, and keeps seeing examples of what the dynamic should and could be, but for some reason he’s not allowed to experience that??

I also hate it when in Bad Sans Family dynamics they treat Killer like he’s an idiot or an annoying child, always messing things up and everyone just fucking hates him for some reason despite claiming not to??

In my mind, if Killer is excessively in Stage 2 during these types of dynamics, then his ass is just playing along. They treat him like shit despite claiming to care or be family or be friends, no different than what Chara did, there’s no way he’d allow himself to be in Stage 1 around them. He can’t trust them not to fuck him up anymore than he already is.

And Stage 1 is excessively a lot more emotionally fragile and sensitive than he is in Stage 2. Killer doesn’t need bullying and degrading comments when he’s in such a vulnerable, fragile state. That’s not a sign of love or affection for Stage 1.

A lot of people don’t seem to understand that Killer is a victim of awful, prolonged abuse and torture—he’s not just a violent stupid serial killer, he is a victim of forced perpetration. He is not going to react to these things like Horror or Murder would.

In fact, even with a Bad Sans Family, his circumstances still mirror the one he had with Chara—killing people, hurting people, doing it with people who claim to be friends or family, even all those violent bloody fights people portray Killer and Murder having is no different than what likely happened with Chara.

Stage 1 is not going to be stabbing people to show affection or licking blood off knives or doing anything that he does in Stage 2. Because that is a version of Killer that is more Sans-like, you know, a Sans that never wanted any of this. A version of Sans who is constantly filled with overwhelming fear, guilt, shame, pain, longing for his home and his brother. Who is still out there, looking for him.

It reminds me of a quote a came across, but can’t quite remember. Something about how a girl wakes up in her bed in a house, screaming and crying about how she wants to go home—but the speaker and the family is confused, because she already is home.