#blueberry tea maybe???

[opens-up-4-nobody]

I want to like tea so bad. How can I possibly hate all the tea I've tried???

[sharky-the-idiot]

Doomed cookies save me... Save me doomed cookies.... [cast of that one thing under cut]

DOOMED COOKIES SAVE ME

[pancakeke]

How do you post all of your thoughts all the time? If I post something on discord half the time I'll think it sounds cringe or if no one responds my brain will go "no one wants to hear what you have to say" even if I know that's not true

I never really thought much about it. possible reasons (that probably overlap at different times)

when i get really into a project or something i focus all my thoughts and energy on that and don't really notice other stuff.

I talk about a lot of hobby stuff that aren't everyone's thing. but I'm not going to stop talking about fun stuff I enjoy.

I multitask most of the time so it's easy for me to forget what all I was doing, like waiting on replies.

other stuff I'm anxious about makes my interactions with people online seem like less of an issue.

lately I'm too physically tired to keep track of much.

I've experienced plenty of weird criticisms that were baffling/unhinged so it's kind of pointless/impossible to care a ton about what people think.

people online are functionally illiterate also so I can't reasonably expect everyone to read and write words.

I use my blog like I'm talking out loud. I don't really expect responses, even if I explicitly ask for them.

(probably moat significant one) after experiencing bullshit from a couple of parasocial weirdos, I purposely made it difficult for anyone to talk to me for a long time. I'm normal about this stuff now but i think it still probably impacts the importance I place on people interacting with me.

I am more likely to express negative feelings by posting more so I can bitch vs posting less and worrying quietly. I like to complain lol

edit: also i think im funny. even if other people dont

[birdyverdie]

The desire to buy a microscope

[radicarian]

Even if everything else in my garden fails this year, the first harvest is IN and it is DANDELION ROOTS

[luveline]

BABE i miss badass bau!reader!!! do you feel up to write something about her and spencer? 🫣🫣

—Spencer comforts you, even when you think you don’t need it. fem, 1.2k

You’d think that agents and staff working for the Behavioural Analysis Unit would use a little subtlety when gossiping about their coworkers. It’s in the name. You’re a profiler, after all, but you wouldn’t need to be to know that the sudden quiet that falls over the kitchenette area when you walk in is for a reason. 

You’re determined to act unbothered. Only, it’s high school all over again, the whispering and the staring boring holes in the back of your head, and you’re thinking What are they saying about me? What have you done now? 

Flustered, you make a cup of herbal tea and forget it on the counter by the sink. Humiliated, you rush back to your desk. 

Spencer doesn’t look up as you sit. Your desks are together again for now, but who knows what whim will have Hotch separating you again. Last time it had been for ‘enabling bad behaviour’. 

So what if Spencer likes to talk? He’d only think all the things he’s saying to himself. You’re speeding up the process if anything by listening. Plus, whatever the others might think, he’s interesting, smart and funny and he deserves to be listened to when he wants to tell you things. 

“Hey,” you say, trying to push the humiliation brewing in your chest back to a quiet place. 

“Hey,” he says. He talks to you in a way he doesn’t with the others. He’s more relaxed, less exuberantly friendly and more like a true friend. 

He’s the only one in this whole office you’d ever want to sit next to every day. “Hi. What are you reading?” 

Spencer folds his novel closed over his hand, an answer on his lips that stutters and fades. “Hey, are you okay?” 

“I’m fine.” 

“You look unhappy.” 

It’s that unfortunate moment that Morgan decides to arrive, a cup of coffee in one hand, a brown paper bag in the other. He shrugs out of his leather jacket, eyeing you both where you’ve stopped your conversation, the slight light of smugness to his eyes as he says, “Doesn’t she always?” 

“Around you, Morgan, yes,” you say, turning your body fully to your computer. “That would be accurate.” 

Morgan laughs heartily. “You love me.” 

Maybe. You certainly don’t like him. Or, you’re annoyed with him most of the time. You wonder occasionally if he and the rest of your teammates are emotionally blind, considering the way they treat Spencer. Everybody makes their funny ‘harmless’ jokes, you’ve never understood why. They’re profilers, aren’t they? Can’t they tell it hurts his feelings?  And they love to tell you that Spencer’s your soft spot, he is, but he’s also a nice boy who wants to be listened to above all else, so you’re a little bitter about it. You weren’t too sweet to begin with. 

Today, you aren’t in the mood. You ignore Morgan and open your emails. 

“You want tea?” Spencer asks, standing from his desk. 

“No.”

“You always have tea in the morning. I’ll make it. Sit tight.” 

You follow Spencer’s figure as he leaves. Morgan wiggles his eyebrows at you from across the divider. 

“Do you ever think about taking him out?” Morgan asks. 

“That’s an inappropriate question,” you say. You aren’t monotone, but you certainly don’t bustle with emotion either.

“You like him, he likes you.” 

That’s exactly what Spencer needs, you think bitterly, the moody girlfriend, another thing to make him an outsider.

“You make each other happy,” Morgan continues.

“You get the same blueberry muffin every day,” you say, clicking an email attachment Hotch sent this morning distractedly, the temptation to roll your eyes at an all time high, “will you marry the baker?” 

“I could. His wife might not like the idea.” 

You hold in a smile. You sort of maybe do love Morgan, even when he’s prying. Better when Spencer returns and Morgan asks about the younger man’s weekend trip to Quantico’s seven floor library. 

“It was awesome,” Spencer says, putting a mug down in front of your keyboard, his palm still warm from the mug taking temporary station on your shoulder. “There were more books about inmate crime than there were dictionaries. Is that okay?” 

You take a sip of your tea. “It’s perfect,” you confess once you’ve swallowed. How does he know how you like it? He must steep it just as you do. Even the water level. You’d think it were the tea you’d left behind if it wasn’t in a new mug, scalding hot. 

“Morgan, could you excuse us, please? For five minutes?” Spencer asks. 

Your eyes widen of their own accord. Morgan makes flirty winky faces to hide his concern and meanders up the steps to Hotch’s office, pointedly looking away from the bullpen and your mess of desks. 

“What’s going on?” you ask. 

“I was hoping you’d tell me,” Spencer says. 

He’s wearing his glasses today, a rare sight these days, less so at the office when you’re sure there won’t be a case to go on. His hair curls at the base of his neck and flicks out under his ears, brown eyes like the flat of a mirror against the light, dark and deep. You wince when you realise you’ve been looking him over intensely, averting your eyes to the cup of tea warming your fingers. 

“You know you can tell me anything,” he says. 

“Sure.” 

“I’d defend you. Just like you would for me.” 

You drag your eyes to his. “I don’t know what you mean.” 

“I mean, if you want me to go fight your corner, I will.” 

“Who says I need that?” 

“It’s Madge, right? The blonde woman with the pearl earrings. She and Andrea monopolise the kitchen in the morning and talk about all of us.” 

You hate profilers, but you could never hate Spencer. You can’t find it in yourself to be upset that he’s worked out what perturbed you so quickly. 

You cross your arms over your chest, leaning back in your desk chair slowly. “There’s no point arguing with them, babe, you’d end up at Human Resources by the end of the day forced to write an apology letter.” 

Spencer looks like he wants to touch you again, hand heistant, fingers moving as though he’s typing curled into his palm. “I’ll stick up for you if you want me to. I don’t care if they make me write a letter.” 

“Can’t argue over silence,” you say.

It’s a kind offer, and he really is so handsome. Everybody else in the office might drive you up the wall but he’s a sweetheart, through and through. 

“I like when you smile. Doesn’t happen much,” he murmurs. 

If it were anyone else, you’d tell them to fuck off. “Thank you, Spencer. I like your smile too.” 

He leans down for a hug. Again, if it were anyone else, you’d wriggle out of reach and give a speech on boundaries, but it’s him. He folds his arms behind your head and back, encouraging your face into the crook of his neck as he bends to meet you, gentle even when you don’t hug him back. “Don’t listen to anybody,” he says, rubbing your shoulder with his thumb. 

“I don’t.” 

“Who cares if they’re talking about us?” Spencer asks. 

You touch his waist. “Not me.” 

[casiia]

༉‧₊˚. — simon 'GHOST' riley; his girls.

warnings .: female reader, the SMALLEST bit of angst, just a lot of overly detailed domestic simon. baby daddy simon who is still in love with you! maybe ooc. unedited cuz :p

note .: ty baby suz for reading it over!! @dr4kenz <;33

.: masterlist.

baby daddy ! simon who walks with his daughter to school for her first day, he’s has her small disney-themed backpack tugged onto his shoulder, the straps too small and digging into his skin. but he doesn’t care. his other hand is accompanied by your daughter, her small fingers looped around only his index.

she’s babbling about random things, how excited she is to make new friends, the ladybug who landed on her shoulder and gave her good luck, how she’s going to pick out new hair clips when you take her to the mall later today.

she’s jumping around — her light-up shoes blinking wildly with every exaggerated step, and simon hovers his arm close behind her in case she slips and falls.

“you don’t have to, it’s early in the morning, and i know you’re busy,” you mumble over the phone, pressing the device between your ear and shoulder. you’re cursing softly, trying to fix up your daughter’s lunch while trying not to burn her special breakfast, the blueberry pancakes that you dyed purple with food coloring, a tradition she started when she first started pre-school. since then, as good luck, she would stuff herself with the artificially colored pancakes for the first day of school.

from the other line, simon can hear all the commotion, and he’s already slipping out of his pajamas and into warmer clothes. “how ‘bout i come over and help her get ready?” his question is more of a loose remark. he’s already heading down the stairs to slip his shoes on.

you hiss loudly, your hand brushing against the hot kettle you had put on for your cup of tea. “no, i couldn’t ask you to do that.” you set your phone down and put it on speaker, sighing loudly when the flames flicker over the pan. you had burnt her pancakes and would have to make them again. “just go back to sleep.”

“i’m already on my way,” simon grunts, the cold air slapping him in the face as he steps outside and into his car. “miss that little bug,” he utters, keeping you on the phone as he begins to drive. if he’s being honest, your frantic voice eases him a bit; it reminds him that he is still needed despite your relationship. whenever things get too rough for you, there’s not a moment of hesitation when you call him, and although you deny any attempts of his help, he knows that you’re just being stubborn. 

his drive to your place is short; he’s fishing into his pocket and pulling out the spare key you gave him. a childish giggle and tiny footsteps greet him before he can fully open the door, small arms wrapping around his leg. 

“daddy!” the young girl squeals, her arms hugging his thigh tighter as she forcefully drags him through the door. simon’s lips turn up in a soft smile, and he kicks his shoes off and picks up his daughter. “hey, kid. you givin’ mama a hard time?” 

the stubble on his chin tickles her when he presses a wet kiss to her cheek, another giggle rising from her chest. simon hoists her onto his hip, holding her close as he walks into the house to find you. 

for a moment, he watches you as you continue to busy yourself in the kitchen. pajamas loosely hanging from your body, your hair pulled into a messy bun – strands slipping from the rubberband and splaying over the nape of your neck. 

 “hey, ma.” simon greets, his voice gruff and deep from just waking up moments ago. he presses his free hand to your hip and lets his lips linger on the temple of your forehead. a sweet, friendly…good morning kiss. how he always greets his girls.

“mornin’ si.” you turn in his hold, glancing up at him in acknowledgment before you flip another large pancake. “can you get her dressed? i laid out an outfit on her bed.”

the girl squirming in simon’s arms huffs, her hands reaching out and grasping onto your loose fitted shirt – simon’s old shirt he’d left behind. “i can get dressed on my own! ‘m a big girl now.” she argues with a whine, her hands being pulled off you by simon’s calloused fingers.

“big girls don’t need hot chocolate before bed,” you say, turning to give her chubby cheeks a gentle pinch. a smile painting your lips when she pulls away, turning her face and smushing it into her father’s chest.

simon nods, and although you can’t see it now that your attention is turned back to the slightly burnt pancakes in front of you, you know he’s leaving with the way his hand falls from your hip. 

you hate the way that you’re so comfortable with him around, especially with the way your relationship with him ended. originally, simon never knew that you were pregnant. you had opted out of telling him one too many times, nerves overtaking you; the idea of being a mother alone was too much. but having to tell the man who had told you time and time again he wasn’t ready for kids, that he was to be expecting one – it made you more nauseous than the baby in your stomach.

although lucky for you, he broke up with you before you could tell him. unlucky for you, his reason for doing so was unselfish; you couldn’t find it in yourself to hold any hatred towards him. with a heavy heart, he told you things weren’t working out for him, he loved you so much, but with how busy he was at work, he found less time to see you and even less time to express his adoration.

most days when you were able to see him, it consisted of just cuddling, little words spoken except for your inquiries about his future and thoughts of having kids. he always mumbled that he didn’t have time to think about that kind of stuff, and just pull you closer to his chest, nuzzling his face into your skin and dozing off to sleep.

it didn’t bother you one bit; just being with him in his arms was enough for you.you didn’t mind that your time together was spent sleeping or sharing a quiet meal. it wasn’t fair to you, none of it was fair – but simon knew you deserved better. so he reluctantly had to break things off; it was the only thing he could think of. he didn’t know how to fix things, how to communicate that he didn’t want to be apart from you. he just didn’t have the time to be there for you at the moment, and he knew he was hurting you either way, so if you could find another to confide in, to turn your heart to, that would be enough for him. 

after years of being apart, simon found himself standing in front of your door, full gear still clinging to him tightly, his palms sweaty but hidden from his gloves. he pressed his head into your door, a frustrated groan bubbling in his aching chest. what was he thinking, showing up to your place unannounced? what if you didn’t even live here anymore? what if you had moved on and wanted nothing to do with him? 

it was selfish, but he needed to see you again. not a day went by where you weren’t on his mind, the barracks drove him to madness, and without escape, he found comfort in an old picture of you he had taken with him. 

you had opened the door after three of his hesitant knocks; confusion etched onto your face as you stared up at the masked man, his eyes familiar but looming with newfound hurt and trauma from the brutal battlefield. 

“did you need something?” you asked, the soft babbling from your television the only thing filling the air after he looked down at you in silence. just taking you in for a moment. you looked tired but beautiful as ever. your hair slightly tangled, old baggy clothes of his that hung from your smaller figure – but you still had the same friendly smile on your face, genuine and kind eyes that looked up at him.

he swallowed thickly; you looked happy. who was he to ruin that by coming back? he had come all this way without any regrets. seeing you again was all he desired. you were happy, and that’s all he needed to know; he didn’t want to know about the person who might’ve stepped in and mended your heart together after he broke it.

gripping his bag tightly, he turned, walking off without a second glance. it was time for him to move on. you had. he was a fool to think things could go back to how it had, how he could hold you so intimately in his arms, whispering in your ear how much he loved you. feeling your lips all over his skin, the way your soft hands would trail along his burning skin. he was so stupid.

“simon?” 

your voice was just barely above a whisper, and you watched with wide eyes the way he stopped in his tracks, muscles flexed under his tight-fitted uniform as he tensed. 

his heart was beating out of his chest, ringing in his ear. turning back to face you, he hooked two fingers under his balaclava and pulled it off. he hated how you looked at him, concerned, creasing your brows. you should hate him; you should be angry that he showed his face to you again. instead, you’re tracing your thumb along his scars, ones that you didn’t recognize and the faint ones that you had already seen before.

simon sighed softly under your touch, dropping his bag and wrapping his arms around you. he pressed his nose into your hair, breathing in your scent while hugging you tightly. he almost broke down when he felt your arms coil around him, pulling him closer and burying your head into his chest.

“mommy?”

just like that, simon’s world crashes down again. he pulls away from you and looks over your shoulder to see a small girl, no older than seven standing in the doorway. she was a spitting image of you, so there was no doubt that she wasn’t yours. although, in a sense, it felt like he was looking in a mirror. piercing brown eyes staring back at him with the same amount of confusion.

“we should talk, si.” you’re wrapping your hand around his wrist, gently tugging him inside. without any hesitation, he’s following close behind you. 

since then, and that very painfully confusing conversation. simon had made his way back into your life, calling every day, showing up unannounced, and accompanying you to your daughters' school events. you didn’t complain; a life without a father was a hard one. you were glad that simon was being responsible and stepping up, and you couldn’t lie; feelings from years ago still lingered, so you enjoyed that you could spend quality time with him again.

simon chuckles lowly when his daughter smushes his cheeks with her small palms, her legs kicking into his torso as he carries her into her room. setting her down on the edge of her bed, he glances at the outfit you’d picked for her – a cute, frilly, pink dress with little white sneakers and a white cardigan. 

he lets his daughter dress herself, only stepping in to help when she tries to stick her head into her sleeve. he kneels in front of her, slipping on her tiny shoes and tying the laces. kissing her knees, he pats her cheeks and fixes her dress when she jumps down and spins in a circle.

“pancakes are ready, sweetheart!” you shout from the kitchen, sliding the hotcakes onto a plate and setting it on the dining table. zipping up her lunchbox, you set it aside before grabbing two mugs and pouring tea for you and simon.

the pair hobbles into the kitchen, simon tugged along by the hyper girl. he shakes his head with a faint smile, lifting and setting her on the chair. you lean against the counter, mug in hand, while you watch as he cuts up her purple pancakes, popping a piece into his mouth and earning a loud complaint from the young girl.

you hand him the other mug filled with tea, brewed just how he likes. he grins, looking at the cup over and realizing it’s his favorite mug, one no one is allowed to drink from unless it’s him. simon leans in and kisses your cheek before leaning against the counter next to you, the two of you watching your daughter scarf down the purple pancakes like it’d be her last meal.

you lean over with a soft pout, grabbing a napkin and wiping syrup off the corner of her mouth. “are you excited for your first day of school?” 

she nods quickly, stuffing the last of her breakfast into her mouth before she leans back, patting her stomach with satisfaction. “gonna make so many new friends today,” she grins up at you with a crooked smile. 

“bet you are. we should get going. don’t wanna be late,” simon says, setting the dishes into the sink and slinging the disney-themed backpack onto his broad shoulder. 

you frown, during the midst of it all, frantic to get things done, you had completely forgotten to change or get yourself ready. you sigh heavily, pinching the bridge of your nose. one simple mistake after another, and now you’d have to miss sending your little girl off for her first official day of school.

simon is quick to notice your mood dropping; he shuffles over to you, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, tilting your head up. “why don’t you rest, i’ll wake you later, and we can pick her up together.” 

you sigh, your shoulders dropping in disappointment. it was silly, but you had been with your daughter every step of the way. it wasn’t a big moment you’d be missing, but a memory nonetheless. you wanted to push yourself, rush into your room and get ready as quickly as possible so you could walk with your simon, holding hands with your daughter while she swung between the both of you. but exhaustion was creeping from your muscles and to your eyes, your eyelids struggling to stay open.

with an unwilling yawn, you nod and let simon guide you to the comfort of your bedroom.

“c’mon bug, let’s tuck mommy in for a quick nap.” simon teases, pulling the comforter back and easing you down onto the mattress. he takes a step back and helps your daughter pull the blanket back up and tuck it under your chin. 

“night, mommy. dream of sweets!” the small girl loudly shouts, afraid you won’t be able to tear her with the blanket covering your face. 

you smile at her words, turning onto your side to look at her. “thank you, baby.” 

simon brushes the hair out of your eyes, leaning down and lightly pressing his lips to your temple. he then lifts his daughter so she can do the same, finalizing your tuck in with a goodnight kiss…or a good morning one. 

“alright, let’s get you to school, kiddo.”

the sun hangs low as simon walks hand in hand with his daughter, a short walk to the school a couple of blocks away. the air was chilling, and simon had tugged off his jacket and slipped it onto the young girl, the article of clothing hanging massively on her frame, the hem almost dragging on the floor. 

he adjusted the straps of the small colorful backpack, very snug on his broad shoulder and digging into his skin – but he didn’t care; he wore it with pride.

simon’s daughters’ chatter filled the quiet streets as she rambled about her hopes for the day. her small fingers clutched her father's index finger tightly, her words a delightful mixture of innocence and imagination. 

“daddy, you know what?” she asks, her voice laced with enthusiasm. she looks up at him with a grin before her attention is quickly redirected towards a small patch of flowers, a bloom of yellow bursting in a patch of healthy green grass.

simon watches as she lets go of his hand, crouching down and picking a couple of stems, gathering a few before returning to his side. “what, sweetheart?” 

“that ladybug that landed on my shoulder yesterday said i’m going to have the best day ever today!” she exclaims, handing the crumpled bundle of probable weeds to him, brushing her damp hands on the outside of her father’s jacket.

simon chuckles lightly at her action, his hands delicately holding the array of flowers. “the ladybug said that?”

“yep!” she said, continuing to marvel at the dream that she had that night; something about mayonnaise and mustard made simon smile, her infectious energy captivating him. 

as they walked, simon took note of the new shoes you had bought your daughter, the bright light-up shoes blinking with each exaggerated step she took. she jumped around, hopping over every line on the sidewalk, claiming that they would break your back, simon didn’t understand, but he held an arm behind her in case she tumbled backward.

approaching the school gate, simon couldn’t help but feel a frown forming on his face, the memory-filled walk ending too soon. he knelt at his little girl’s eye level, pulling her closer to him. 

“have a good day, kid. if anyone gives you trouble, tell me, and i’ll get it sorted out.” he teased, although only half of him was joking. simon slipped his jacket off her and fixed her backpack onto her shoulders, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead. 

“i will! give mommy those flowers when she wakes up.” she nods, glancing behind her at the many kids that walked into the gate before hugging her father quickly, stumbling out of his hold and rushing towards the school, excitement coursing through her veins.

simon wished she had stayed a little longer, hugged him a little more, and kissed him back. still, as he watched her run into school, he realized something, he was old – and that his happiness weighed out his disappointment. he might’ve been absent for the beginning chapters of her life, but this was the first big step he was here for. it made him realize how many more were to come; watching her grow up warmed his thoughts, and he could do it all by your side. just you and his daughter, his girls.

AN: i have so many parts alr written for baby daddy simon. SHOULD I MAKE THIS A SERIES, and do i name the kid...??

[honeytonedhottie]

honey's guide to spring⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪷

i've been preparing this post for a while bcuz i LOVE spring and for this spring i just wanna embody feminine, fairy, dream-like beauty in my day-to-day this spring, and just enjoy it fully.

THE MOOD FOR SPRING : planting new seeds, fresh fruit, and bouquets of flowers. tea parties and floral prints and perfumes. green grapes, hibiscus tea and waking up early to see the sunrise.

PREPARATION FOR SPRING : stock up on your favorite fruits and teas. if u want fruits that are in season, the fruits in season during spring include strawberries, cherries, blueberries, kiwis, bananas and nectarines. my favorite spring time tea is hibiscus and i love a good matcha during all seasons but especially spring, and lastly a good citrus tea is always something that i enjoy.

if ur someone who experiences rly bad allergies during the spring make sure that u go to ur doctors for a check up, and make sure that u have everything that you'll need to combat allergies.

THE PLAYLIST : a good playlist is always essential so my spring playlist consists of : eternal sunshine - jhene aiko. はるなつあきふゆ - ichiko aoba. afterglow - luna li. pisces - yerin baek. fairy of shampoo - TXT. scenery - red velvet. hydrangea love - TXT. cool with you - newjeans. salad days - iiso. pov - ariana grande. lyricist - heize.

REFRESH : time for spring cleaning both mentally and physically. analyze what habits are nourishing u and which habits are drying you out. analyze ur space and do a deep cleaning, that way u can feel lighter both mentally and physically.

wash ur sheets, maybe even buy fresh sheets (floral printed sheets for spring ofc)

go thru ur closet and put the winter and autumn clothes towards the back and bring the spring clothes where they're more accessible and visible

deep clean ur room and clean ur house -> get onto clean-tok for some cleaning motivation cuz watching videos of people cleaning and organizing always motivates me to do so too

create new pinterest boards and delete ones that u dont use, or if u want to, create a completely new pinterest account. i've grown attached to my pinterest account so i won't delete it, but i've made lots of other accounts on separate devices

oftentimes we forget to clean what we use the most, and that buildup can cause our tools to be counterproductive, and just carry a lot of unnecessary germs so here are some things not to forget to clean and organize ;

behind ur ears

ur earbuds or headphones

ur skincare tools and devices (gua shas, face rollers)

ur phone screen

ur folders, binders, and folders

CULTIVATING CREATIVITY :

create something - do some painting, start a sketchbook, start dabbling in some poetry, maybe write a short story, cultivate an elite playlist etc etc

connecting with nature - go and get some fresh air, wake up earlier than usual to watch and enjoy the sunrise. drink different teas that you've never tried before, go to a local crystal shop if ur into that, make urself an elaborate platter of ur favorite fruits. go for a walk in the park, pick flowers and speaking of flowers, go and buy urself a pretty bouquet.

create a spring-time mood board

TENDING THE GARDEN OF THE MIND :

ofc i MUST talk about the mind in any of my posts bcuz its just so incredible. but what you think matters!! what u think manifests! the thoughts that u continue to water and entertain are what you will experience. therefore when u change ur thoughts and water the seeds of the new thought, you'll get a new flower.

its like gardening. your thought is the seed, and ur mind is the soil. when u entertain ur thoughts ur watering the seed, and you'll get a new flower, the flower is the new experience. so this spring, plant new thoughts and entertain those thoughts ✨

FUN SPRING-LIKE THINGS :

picking flowers -> buying yourself a bouquet

have a tea party by yourself or with friends (reference my tea party post if u need some inspo)

make a bracelet or anklet out of flowers

take a bath and infuse the bath with things like rose petals, rose scented bath milks etc

crystal shopping (last year i added amethyst to my crystal collection, this year i'd love to add selenite into my collection)

watch a 90's anime (i've watched sailor moon about a MILLION times and im gonna rewatch it again this year bcuz its just the girliest, best anime i've watched and is one of my favorites)

so i hope that this post sparked some ideas on ways that u can enjoy your spring girlies ✨

[4theitgirls]

Tips for that time of the month?

when you’re on your period, your hormone and iron levels are very low, so this is the point where you have the least amount of energy. the best thing you can do for your body is to honor that the best you can. here are some ways to do that and some other tips i’ve found helpful!

stay hydrated! water helps cramps by helping recover your muscles and allowing them to relax.

do what makes you feel cozy. get under warm blankets, drink a warm drink, read a book, watch a movie, bake some cookies, etc.

gentle movement. yin yoga (highly recommend), light pilates, stretching, an outdoor walk, etc. there are some great yoga practices specifically for your period on youtube.

make sure you’re getting enough sleep.

practice breathing exercises to help calm the mind and nervous system.

know what’s normal and what’s not! if your periods last for a long time, are incredibly painful, cause other issues throughout your body, etc., you may need to see a physician and take steps to see what’s going on. maybe tmi, but i have had extremely painful periods my entire life and was told that everyone’s period is uncomfortable but to just deal with it and i ended up having endometriosis, which i am now on treatment for. understand what is supposed to be happening and identify if there is anything you’re feeling that isn’t “normal.”

foods to eat to support your body:

warm foods and drinks

soup

stew

tea

hot chocolate

etc.

foods high in protein, healthy fats, and iron

seafood

veggies

lentils

mushrooms

blueberries

blackberries

avocado

seeds

kidney beans

[bruciemilf]

Now I’m thinking of Alpha Martha scooping in like “is anybody going to love and cherish that omega” and not waiting for an answer. She uses every Wayne gala to flaunt her Omega and later, pup in Carmine’s face. The only reason she hasn’t killed him yet is that seeing his rage and sad plans to get Thomas back is amusing and if it ever comes down to that Thomas deserves the honors.

Gosh, I’m starting to fall in love with that concept. Just imagine stern browed, lethally beautiful Captain Martha Kane, infamously known for her service in the military.

She reeks of bloodied snow, and sweet pomegranate with a note of petrichor. Of gunpowder, grainy and dark and rich, and of something so alluringly nameless Thomas can’t shake off.

The rumors about her hawk like gaze aren’t just rainwater.

Her look is made of storms and winter and Thomas shivers when he sees her for the first time, walking aimlessly around Gotham’s museum. His mother’s museum.

Carmine’s now, legally.

She stops just besides him, — she’s tiny, for an alpha, and he’s big for an omega, and for a moment, Thomas feels vindicated. So they had anomalies, too. Good. They earned it.

“Beautiful.”

She’s referring to the exhibit they’re admiring together. She has to be. Thomas stays quiet.

“What’s your opinion about it? I’ve visited her hundreds of times and I just can’t understand it. Not correctly, I think.”

He scoffs, but otherwise, the silence continues to expand.

Of course no Alpha understands The Good Omega.

Right above them, exposed almost proudly, imprisoned behind a thin layer of glass with rose gold framing, with delicate ivory marbled in, The Good Omega displays an omega women kneeling by her alpha.

It’s not intricate, or complex in composition. It translates well, and it’s just detailed enough.

Her mouth is sewn shut.

It’s a blood painting.

“She used to be an artist, I believe, “ Martha continues, with just the barest twitch of discomfort in her face, but she doesn’t allow her attention to shift. “I thought maybe you’d have a better perspective about it.”

“I’m not allowed to speak to you. As you well know.”

She pauses for a bit. “I apologize. You have no collar on. Your alpha didn’t pick one yet?”

He hums. “He can collar me when I’m in the ground.”

Oddly enough, that answer satisfies her. Pomegranate blossoms on his tongue.

“It’s freedom,” he continues, not really caring about customs. He already defies them daily. “It means freedom.”

Martha listens, but she huffs, half confused, half incredulous. “That doesn’t look like freedom to me. “

“That’s because you’re used to it,” He grits, turning his own gaze on her. He’s been told he smells horrible when he’s angry. He hopes this tiny, beautiful alpha chokes on it.

“Suffering is the only freedom omegas have. It forces you to look, to awknolege. There’s no exits The freedom of existing, that’s all we got.” He scoffs, not even noticing she’s clingy to every little sound.

“ Enjoy it while you can. Its going in the junkyard next week.”

“The junkyard?” She echoes, almost offended by the idea, but the casual insult. “Who’d throw away something like this, omega? It’s too valuable. “

Omega.

Thomas wants to purr and he rages, almost.

His smile is nasty, and full of teeth, and he’s grown to love how alphas cringe at the sight of it. Not this one, thought. This little beast stares at it like it’s living art.

“The same people you fight for. Thank you for your service, alpha.”

Thomas turns, not bothering to bow, excuse himself, or make a respectful exit. One good thing about being a rich omega is that he follows no rules his alpha doesn’t specify.

Nowhere did Carmine say he wasn’t allowed to ditch gorgeous alphas.

—

“You’re back rather early, Madame,” Alfred greets her with a kiss on one of her brow, soft as anything, his like tea, blueberry and dark chocolate scent hugging her deeply.

He takes a whiff of her, frowns, both in intrigue and concern. “…Why do you smell like unhappy omega?”

“Alfred,” She says, “I want to retire. Would you be a darling and contact my lawyer?”

“Oh, thank heavens. Anything else?”

Martha’s gaze bleeds blue, her thighs buzzing with the sneer of Thomas’ anger still, “Can you ask him if I can legally kidnap a taken omega?”

[kai-anderson-whore]

Next chapter (kit walker x fem reader smut) (kinktober fic 5)

Summary: you and kit have been married for two years, neither of you thought of trying for a baby till kit brings the idea up again.

Warnings: smut, fluff, breeding kink, creampie, heavy kissing, cuddles in the kitchen (it’s giving mardy bum by arctic monkeys), trying for a baby, talks about trying for a baby, unprotected sex, romance, aftercare

Word count: 1,4k

A/n: we are officially half way through the kinktober masterlist this one is quite cute ngl.

•¤❅¤•.•°˚˚°•..•°˚˚°•.•¤❅¤•.•¤❅¤•.•°˚˚°•.

Married life was great to kit walker, he never used to see himself the type to marry until he met you. He knew from the moment he saw you, you were the one. Now two years into your happy marriage, routine was almost the same. You would sat together for breakfast, kit would go off to work, come home and have dinner then cuddle up on the sofa by the coal fire.

Kit was at work filling a families car up with gas, he couldn't help but smile to himself seeing the couple's toddlers carrying on the backseat. Kit finished filling the tank up with gas, the husband paid kit for the job thanking him. Luckily it was almost the end of his shift, he just couldn't wait to get home and see you.

"Have a nice day" kit smiled waving them off in his usual friendly manner. Walking back into the garage plopping himself down on the chair with a sigh. His mind drifted off, thinking what life would be like for you and him if you both had a couple of kids running around. His heart swelled at the thought.

You both previously spoke about children not planning anything, a mutual agreement that if you were to end up pregnant one day it would be great news, but it wasn't set in stone. For a few weeks now kit had been thinking about starting a family, he knew he was ready for a baby. But he also knew you would be carrying the baby for nine months 'would you be even ready?' Kit thought. Not realising the time kit's shift came to an end grabbing his jacket closing the garage, he set off home. Planning on maybe bringing the baby subject to the table later tonight.

You were at home just finished making dinner for you and kit, the radio playing in the background. Just like clockwork kit entered through the door with his usual room shining smile. "Honey I'm home" he sang making you smile. "Hey how was work?" You asked setting the tea towel down on the counter. Kit made his way over to you wrapping you up in a hug, "it was okay nothing special just glad to be back home with you" he smiled against your lips before pressing them to yours in a chaste kiss.

'Then he kissed me by the crystals' played making you grin at the coincidence. "Ironic" kit chuckled pulling away from your lips. "Then he asked me to be his bride, I'll always be right by his side" you sang along your arms around his neck. Kit just smirked letting you enjoy the song. "Dinners ready" you spoke up once the song ended. "Perfect" he whispered.

After dinner you were cleaning the dishes whilst kit got out his work clothes. The radio back on playing throwbacks 'blueberry hill by fats domino' playing, you hummed along it was one the very song that played when you met kit. "For you were my thrill, on blueberry hill" kit entered back into the kitchen singing along, wrapping his strong arms around your waist from behind still singing along, swaying you both gently to the song.

You smiled leaning your head back on his chest, shoulders deflated in comfort. Kit's chin resting on your shoulder peppering soft kisses along your exposed neck. A content sigh left your lips feeling at home with your husband's arms around your waist. "Let's make a baby" kit whispers into your ear, your eyes shot open. Turning your body to face him, arms still around your waist.

"A baby?" You asked unsure if you heard him right. Sure you would adore having a baby with kit but you always assumed if it happens. "Yeah come on, think about it honey a little mini us running around" kit's voice soft and gentle swaying you both to the love songs on the radio.

You thought about it for a moment sure you felt ready to start a family but didn't think kit was just yet. "Are you sure kit it is a huge responsibility" you question, "I'm more than sure, only if you want to have a baby after all it's your body" kit assures. You smile sweetly at your husband nodding your head. "Okay let's try for a baby" you bit your lip.

Kit smiled pressing his lips to yours gingerly making you melt into his lips. Your arms wrapped around his neck once again bringing him closer to you. From the sweet kiss turned heated and passionate, kit leading you both to your shared bedroom with little to no effort. You giggled nearly tripping over each other entering the bedroom.

"Now are you sure about this kit" you asked one more time taking your dress off along with your undergarments. "I'm more than sure, just the thought of you pregnant does things to me" kit groaned laying you gently on the bed, he took his clothes off before climbing on top of you. His lips back on you, your body reacting to his gentle touches, like putty in his hands.

Kit took his hardened erection between your folds using your arousal as a lubricant, slipping inside of you with a groan, your hands gripped onto his biceps a sigh leaving your own plump lips. Your head felt light at the sudden sensation your walls accustomed to his size. Kit peppers your cheek with loving kisses, his eyes were clouded with nothing but love and affection with the faintest hint of lust.

It was like on your wedding night all over again when he was the first person to ever touch you in such a way.  Now a new special moment in your life, kit wanted this moment to be as romantic as possible. He retracted his hips starting in a slow passionate pace. Soft sighs left your lips, your hair tossled around the pillows beneath your head. "I love ya so much suga" kit mumbles his rough hand guided your leg over his waist.

"I love you" you panted out running a hand through his chocolatey hair. "I can't wait for us to have a baby" he says his thrusts a little more faster but still as loving as before. You moaned at the sudden quickening pace of his hips. Your walls fluttered around him greedily around him.

Kit already felt close to the edge trying to contain himself for a little longer. Your hips lifted making kit hit that spot to make you come undone for him. "I'm so close" you moaned out your grip tightened around his toned arms. "Me too baby, I'm gonna to fill you up so fucking good" he whispers burying his head in the crook of your neck.

Your breath catches in the back of your throat as the overwhelming force of your release washes over you. “Oh my god” you loudly moan, back arched, nails sinking into kit’s arm triggering his own release. With a low moan kit released inside your velvety walls, not letting a drop go to waste. Your legs shaking with the slight overstimulation.

Once kit was sure he milked every drop of his cum inside you, he pulled out making you whimper at the loss of contact. You felt the mixture of yours and kit’s release drooling down your legs, kit chuckling to himself before grabbing a towel to clean you up. Your legs shaking ever so slightly, his hand running along your leg soothing you.

“You need anything, water?, food?” He asked stroking your cheek. “Just some water please” you replied with a lopsided smile. Kit nodded his head getting your water and discarding the towel. You sat on the bed thinking about the possibility that you created a new life just now. A huge milestone in your marriage, a smile creeping on your lips.

“What’s got you smiling?” Kit entered the room holding the glass of water, mimicking your smile. “Just thinking” you sighed as kit handed you the glass of water, you took a sip as he crawled into bed beside you. “About?” He questioned further. You placed the cold glass on your nightstand getting yourself more comfortable, head resting on his broad chest. “About the fact we’re trying for a baby”.

Kit’s hand stroking your arm, his other arm that’s free resting behind his head, deep in thought. “I know it’s crazy to think” he whispered with the same smile on his lips. “You know”- you turned your body so your chin rested on his chest, kit raised his eyebrow at you for you to continue. “It’s might take a good few tries till we get pregnant”.

“I guess we gotta keep trying then” kit smirks flipping you both over, a laugh erupting from your lips.

[pigeonpeach]

Love potion yandere <3

Cw: dub con, suggestive themes, drugging, yandere themes,

Prompt: You recently received a potion from a strange old lady you helped out. You helped her pick out a cute bunny plushie for her daughter and even helped pay for it. As reward she gave you that potion and payed you back. Telling you it will show wether or not someone loves you. If they don’t, then they will act as if nothing happened. But if they do then it will strengthen their love to the point they cannot resist showing affection to you. You were in fact: quite perplexed who to use this on. So you saved it for later.

Well later came.

Jean

You were preparing tea for your boss Jean when you got curious. She’d bene eyeing you for some time now so you wanted some answers. The potion came up again as you contemplated it. There was no way you could but… ohh… could anyone blame you. Yearning for someone is truly frightening. You yearn for her touch, to sit on her lap, to be her wife.. oh you just want to know.. maybe just a drop. Just a little? Half a drop maybe?

You caved. Who could blame you. You were horrible with signs and you needed to know. You didn’t put much. A single drop. Nothing more. You watched her lift it before the guilt overtook you.

“Wait! I just realized I didn’t use the right tea bags! I’m so sorry.” You said. She put the cup down looking at you concerned.

“Its no problem. I can drink this one. I’m not that picky.” She chuckled. You however still sweated.

“B-but I really insist I must get it right before you have it!”

“Is it poisonous?” She asked confused and skeptical.

“Of course not. I just.. this cup was… i- i um… its a really experimental tea I bought and I don’t know if you would like it.” You said nervously. You looked like a vein would burst at any second from your stress.

“Please relax, you look way too stressed over this. I’ll have a sip and tell you my thoughts.” She took a sip before you could interject. She put the cup down as she swallowed it. A smile graced her lips. “This is great actually. It has such a lovely taste.”

You felt relieved.

“Do tell me the flavor, this is excellent stuff I’d like to buy some myself.” She said.

“O-oh I’ll go check!” You said nervously.

With that you left as you clutched your heart. It seemed she was fine. Did… that mean it didn’t work? Or did she not love you? Oh well. What matters is that she’s fine and you got your closure without risking your job. You decided to try and come up with some exotic and outrageous flavor to tell her as you killed time in the library.

Meanwhile for Jean she felt herself growing restless. Her hands tingling as she slammed her fist on the table. “Where is she! Where is she!” She felt so fustrated. Her heart raced. Her mind blanked as it was filled with thoughts of you. She needed you this instant. She sat up from her desk as she vowed to find you herself.

Coming into the Library she found you dusting the shelves.

“O-oh Jean I’m sorry I got carried a-woat?!” You gasped as she suddenly lifted you into her arms and carried you off. “M-m-m”

“Don’t speak. I just… want to hold you right now.” She said, her voice as so stern, it was nothing like the woman you were talking to a hour ago. Her face on your neck taking a deep sniff making you surprised. “You’re so soft.. were you always this compliant? You didn’t even resist when I picked you up, you just went along with it.” She chuckled, her laugh holding a slight sinister feeling to it.

“G-grand master?” You squeaked. She seemed elated.

“Just call me Jean.” She said carrying you off to her office. You couldn’t help but wonder if even one drop was too much. But at least you got your answers… for her sake you hope its not permanent

Diluc

Maybe you were in over your head. You made muffins for the household and offered him one, you made sure it was his favorite, blueberry cinnamon. He thanked you and ate the whole thing. He even ate most of the muffins. They were gone before midday. But you knew it wouldn’t harm anyone who ate it. You had been hassled by Adelinde for the recipe when Milly came rushing to you.

“Ma-master Diluc requests your presence immediately.” Milly said urgently. You were a bit puzzled by her reaction. But you obliged heading to his office. You barely got the door open before you were suddenly pulled into a tight embrace.

“You… what did you do to me?” He growled. You tried to squirm as you panicked slightly.

“H-huh? W-whats going on? I- oh!” You were suddenly lifted as you pinned you to the wall.

“Those muffins… you.. you were already so tempting and now I can’t get you out of my mind. So what was it? A aphrodisiac?”

“I-it shouldnt be having those effects. I only did one drop… i just… wanted to see if you felt the same way.” You fessed up quickly. You were very conflicted, on one hand this was very scary, but also kind of hot. Being pinned against the wall, your crush pinning you and desperately pressing himself into you. Oh it was a battle between your sense and your heart.

“I knew it. You could’ve just asked you know? You have no excuse now.” His voice was so growly. Your body tingled as he spoke directly into your ear. “You’re going to take responsibility here. You are going to mine. I’ll make sure of that.”

Dehya

You had the biggest crush on Dehya. You hired her for a expedition you went on with your students but you ended up head over heel in love with her. Now that it was over you tried to find any excuse to spend time with or hang out with her. You wondered if sometimes she got annoyed or hated you because you worked for the Akademiya. But with that potion however you figured you would have a clear shot of figuring it out. Of course she wasnt a test dummy. You tested it on a lab rat who became quite cuddly with you. The rat survived with no damage done mentally or physically. So while you two were staying at inn together you slipped a drop in her cup.

“DEHYA!” You gasped as she just lifted you into the air, as if she were offering you to the sky, the. Lowering you to her chest. Then repeating that. You realized she was using you as s weight.

“Heh, you’re so light! It barely feels like I’m moving a muscle.” She smiles as you froze, not wanting to fall.

“Dehya please put me down this is so embarrassing!” You were quite worried about falling. You already had such a fragile back, you couldn’t worsen it even more.

“Why? You’re so cute like this. Heh, my little researcher is just so light.. makes me wonder how the wind never blew you away.” She teased. You weren’t even that skinny. She was just that strong. “I could keep you, just sling you over my shoulder and take you with me. Carry you around like a purse… a pretty purse. One I could fu-“

“DEHYA! Please put me down! Also are you drunk?” You were quite puzzled. None of your experiments yielded this. The mouse had simply become cuddly, your cat also became clingy for the day. Perhaps it was just the type of love. The mouse and your cat loved you as a caretaker so their love strengthened to make them more dependent on you than they were, her love must’ve been more than you thought.

“Heh.. I slipped out my flask for some firewater mixture I got. Wanted to see if you would have a sip or two.” That was concerning. You didn’t know she could be so devious. It was kind of exciting though… you had always wanted to try firewater.. getting drunk with her seemed like a great way to bond an- “stop thinking so much.” Dehya seemed angry as she swung you around once more.

“Please put me down! Dehya you’ll break something and that will be me!”

“Relax, I wouldn’t break something pretty like you.” She said, slinging you over her shoulder and tossing you onto the bed. You two had separate beds but you figured you wouldn’t be sleeping alone tonight. “So pretty, so pliable and soft. My little researcher..” she purred. You were struggling to maintain your composure or mentally write notes. Her body ontop of you. “Mine.. all~~~ mine. I won’t let anyone else take you. If they try I’ll cut their fucking hand off.”

“Dehya that’s a crime!” You were alarmed. You couldn’t let her do such things. “Let’s just get some rest. You clearly need it!” You attempted to roll away but she blocked you.

“Mm i’d get away with it.. there’s plenty of spaces to hide a body in sumeru.” She purred as if that wasn’t the most sinister words you’ve heard from her.

“Dehya! No! No murder no using me like a purse, and no-“

“Are you trying to leave me.” She growled.

“Dehya i can’t even get up right now.” You sighed.

“Good. I’m going to use you… like a pillow. We can do more fun stuff when I’m sober. Besides… I wanna do it under the stars. And also so anyone nearby can hear you calling my name~” she giggled. You weren’t actually too Against that. That actually sounded kind of hot to you.

“Please just lay down so you can sleep!” An Idea popped into your mind. “I’ll give you a kiss if you get ready for bed and promise not murder anyone!”

“Just one? Nonono I want more than just kisses her.”she said smugly. “What’s stopping me from taking some right now? You clearly don’t mind.” You sighed.

“I’ll… go on that starry night date of yours if you just comply here.”

“You mean the one where I’ll f*ck you?”

“Yes.”

“Deal.”

Neuvillette

Truth be told the potion wasn’t for him. You had a crush on someone else and when they asked for some water you dropped that in there.

You didn’t know it was for the Iudex of Fonatine. Not until you were dragged into his office and he curled himself around you in his more.. dragon like form. His tail was massive spanning what must be several feet, you couldn’t measure it though considering the way he curled himself, tail included, around you.

“Mine… mine..” he growled as you stood still and shaking. You liked the Iudex sure but you knew he was way out of your league. Apparently he wasn’t.

“S-sir… i- i have work…” you weren’t sure how to get out of this. His grip was tight. His bigger body wrapped around you as he sniffed you. You couldn’t get a inch away.

“Mine.” His growl was more deeper.

“Sir! I-i can’t.. ngh..” you gasped as he held you so tight you had difficulty breathing.

“Say it.” His voice was more stern than you had ever heard. The kind of tone he’d have when dealing with a unruly court.

“S-say what?” Your voice trembled. You wondered if he could kill you with this grip.

“Say that you’re mine.” His voice reverberated throughout your body, making your hairs stand on end. His grip only getting tighter as you became more alarmed.

“I-I’m yours… I’m yours!” You pleaded. To your relief he lessened his grip letting you breathe. However he started instead to.. bite you. You jolted feeling his bite at your neck, it was more like a nibble but it was still a alarming sensation. “S-sir! We’re in your office..” you wished you never used that potion at all. Maybe instead thrown it away. You might not get out of this in one piece.

“I don’t care.. I want you…” His tongue lapped at your sweat as if he was… bathing you? Do dragons clean themselves like cats? Maybe not but it was a jarring sensation. “You’re mine.. I’m not going to let anyone else have you.” He growled as his hands on your uniform pulled it open.

[lynnielovestlou]

can u please make something about abby comforting reader through an especially hard panic attack😔☹️🙏

thank you!

of course ml!! hope you're okay <33

cw: anxiety , panic attack comfort , gentle! abby , fluff , use of y/n , pet names (babe, baby, honey, etc) , reader is kinda insecure , readers hair can be brushed through with a brush

masterlist

you have had panic attacks before, so you were no stranger to the clammy hands, chest pains, and the relentless thoughts and fears clouding each and every corner of your mind. but this one was just different.

it hadn't happened all week. usually your anxiety would get to the point where you'd have one or two attacks over the course of a few days. but you knew when you went an entire week with no panic attacks that something was wrong. it was building up inside you, just waiting for it to release into something monstrous.

abby knew all about your anxiety. she knew how bad it tore you up, and she was better at dealing with it than you were. often times it made you insecure how much you felt like you were slowing her down. how you had told her a countless number of times that she would be better off without you dragging her down with your blasted anxiety.

of course, being the best girlfriend she is, she didn't listen. she didn't mind helping you through it, in the sense that you really weren't slowing her down. but she hates your anxiety too. she hates how sick you feel after every attack and she hates that you go through them in the first place. her least favorite part, though, is when you go through it by yourself.

which was happening right now.

you were curled up in a ball on the floor of your shared bedroom. you could feel the pent-up anxiety releasing from the very start, and you tried everything to soothe it; your weighted blanket, your breathing exercises, hot tea. but nothing worked. to make matters worse, you couldn't find your phone to tell abby what was going on.

you lost track of time an hour into the attack. usually they only lasted maybe ten to twenty minutes. but this one felt so dreadful and deep that you knew it would be grueling.

your muscles shook so hard they hurt. your eyes were red and puffy from the amount of vigorous tears that had come from them. your clothes were covered in your snot and drool, and your heart felt like it was attempting to head-butt itself out of your chest.

keys jingle outside of the door, quickly followed by the sound of the door opening. abby's heavy footsteps are heard through the thin walls of the apartment.

"babe, you won't believe what happened today." she begins to say, her tone lighthearted and breathy, "i went grocery shopping and this lady was trying to get the last pack of those blueberry muffins you like, but i grabbed them before her. she was so pissed i wish you could've seen her face."

when she doesn't get a response back her eyebrows scrunch and she freezes, "y/n?"

she abandons the groceries on the counter, heading straight towards the bedroom. the second she sees you slumped on the floor and curled in a tight ball her stomach drops.

she doesn't hesitate for a single second before scooping you right up, tucking your face into her shoulder, "how long have you been like this?" she asks softly, her usual happy tone completely sympathetic.

you open your mouth, but no words come out. just a single, dry breath. she sits you down on the bed, her fingers pressing into your pulse, "honey, your heart. calm it down." she commands softly, peppering tender kisses all around your face, "why didn't you call me?"

"didnt want to... be a burden." you choke out, the tightness in your lungs far from subsiding.

she keeps talking to you, knowing two things. one: her voice calms you. two: she knows that if you're talking, you're breathing.

"you're not a burden, y'know that? you are never a burden." she coos, rubbing her fingers through your hair, "how long has this one been happening?" she asks again.

"an hour." you mumble, grabbing and pawing at her hands to hold.

her stomach twists again, the thought of you being alone in this state for this long making her feel guilty, "that's too long. have you taken your medicine?"

you can only muster a nod. yes, you did take your medicine. has it helped? not. one. bit.

she picks you up again so fast it almost gives you whiplash. she carrie's you to the shared bathroom, setting you down on the counter. you grimace at the cold tile against your thighs, but the she soothes you with a peck on the cheek.

abby knew what to do.

she slotted her body between your legs, cleaning up your tear and drool stained face with a warm washcloth. she kisses your forehead every once in a while, talking to you the entire time. "breathe, baby." "it'll pass." "i'm right here, okay? i'm not going anywhere."

after cleaning you up she carefully peeled your dirty clothes off, replacing them with some of her clean ones: her favorite t-shirt and a pair of her boxers. she knew you love to wear her clothes. they feel and smell like her, and there was no greater comfort than to be surrounded by abby.

"better?" she asks softly, brushing through your hair with a hairbrush.

you nod, pulling the slightest of smiles out of you for the first time in hours.

[sn00pism]

Reo’s such a cutie patootie, have any ideas for reo fluff? :))

Hi! omg I agree so much! I do believe he needs therapy though.. (tbh all of them need it, maybe except Isagi??)I don't know if you wanted headcannons or a full fic, but I'm happy to expand on this!

Every second of every minute (I want to spend by your side)

Mikage Reo x reader, as per requested.

He's your biggest supporter!

He's also your hypeman!

TOTAL SIMP

He has to wake up early to train but sometimes ends up being late for wanting to spend five more minutes in bed with you

His styled hair ends up all disheveled

(Nagi teases him for it later, but who has a girlfriend? and who doesn't? aha, that's what he thought)

Makes breakfast before he leaves too

(really just buys you something cause homeboy doesn't really know how to cook. He's taking classes though, so sometimes you'll wake up to blueberry pancakes and a coffee (or tea))

Makes sure you're healthy and gets happy when you tag along to his trips to the gym or on walks.

Tries really HARD to make your parents or friends to get to like him.

(Goes overboard on the gifts and you have to hide his card from him to avoid that. If you can, that is.)

On that note, he spoils you as much as he can. He knows your love can't be bought and that your relationship isn't transactional but he just can't help buying you that plushie you told him you wanted the other day... or those earrings... or that book... Or the whole merch section of your favourite character.

Loves it when you wear his jersey to his games, his number on the back along with the big, bold letters spelling out 'MIKAGE'

He really hopes one day he'll get to pull out that ring that's been sitting on the pocket of one of his most expensive coats.

Mikage Reo loves you with all his heart because he knows you love him unconditionally. You've proved that much to him. Staying next to him even on his worst days.

"Reo? you leaving already?" Reo's heart shakes as he sees you slightly lift your head from the pillows, hair slightly disheveled and sleepy eyes, puffy from the sleep. A warm smile creeps up on his face.

"Yeah, big practice today, game's tomorrow, love" You nod sleepily, blinking up at him. "You'll be late today?" You ask as you yawn, hiding your face on the pillows.

He sighs, nodding, "Yeah... I'm sorry, pretty..." You smile at him, warm, understanding, "It's okay..." You reach to grasp his hand as he sits on the bed. "At least I get to see you play tomorrow" You raise his hand to kiss his hand, right on his ring finger. Reo melts.

"Mhm.." He checks his watch and makes a quick decision, motioning you to scoot over. You see right through him. "Oh no no, no, Reo, baby, no" You refuse to move but Reo is stronger, although his hold is gentle with you, and soon enough he's got you cuddled up, head on his chest, cologne invading your nose. A mix of jazmin and vanilla, not overpowering but nice, comforting. It's hard to not melt into his embrace.

"You'll be late, Reo.." You nudge him over but he doesn't budge.

"I've got.." He checks his watch again, "A few more minutes..." He hugs you tighter, kissing the top of your head "I jus' wanna have some more time with the love of my life, don't push me away, yeah?" You sigh into his chest and nod, "Few minutes, love, then off you go"

He nods, little did you know, he woke up an hour earlier than usual today, just to have a few more minutes with you. After all, you're what gets him through his rigorous training, you're the reason he gets up and faces his day with the goal of being the best. The best for you. Even if he already knows, you've told him so many times, that he is the best in your eyes.

You're the reason why, the next day, after finding you in the crowd, wearing his jersey, his number, his surname, he scores at least 3 out of the 5 goals that makes his team win.

After all, there is a shiny little thing stuffed away in his sweater that's laying near his bottle on the field. A little thing that will bound you guys together forever, as he's sure you're the one.

He just hopes you say yes.

I hope you liked this little blurb I pushed out of my tiny, university squished brain! I'm kind of getting back into writing so it may not make much sense and I'm also studying about script writing via Youtube so I'm sorry if it isn't the most coherent thing out there! I listened to 'A real hero' by College & Electric youth. The vibes were just immaculate if I'm honest.

[cactikiki]

Name your headcsnons about our boi Kieran (Apologies if you have done this already)

I HAVE SO MANY. this is probably a fraction of my headcanons honestly but I don't remember them all lmao. HERE WE GO!

Kieran

• he has anxiety, the tism™️ and BPD (twinning 🤝)

• stims include tapping his foot, rocking his hand to the side of him, bouncing his leg (or foot) when sat down. He also has vocal stims, which usually come from tunes or phrases he hears; wowzers is one of them!

• playing with his hair is a big stim. He ruffles it, pulls at it, twirls it, strokes it, runs his hands through it, etc. He likes how his hair feels and that's why so many of his stims involve it :]

• he often mutters to himself, whispering his inner thought processes

• his parents left years ago. He has no idea where they went, only knows that they didn't care about their kids. When he was young he was told they'd died, to 'protect' him. You'd think Carmine and the grandparents would've learned from that incident during teal mask, huh? (This is also the case for villain!Kieran, but normal Kieran would likely avoid ever meeting his parents)

• he is terrible at video games. Still, he likes playing them on occasion; definitely more of a 'cosy game' enjoyer with a biiiiit of threat. He'd play Minecraft, Stardew Valley and Terraria for example

• he's short right now– shortest of the friend group– but he'll eventually be pretty tall when he's 17. Shorter than Nemona and Arven at that age, but still tall enough that it shocks people at first

• chocolate wafer bars are his comfort food!

• his grandma taught him how to cook, while his grandpa taught him how to make tea and to knit.

• despite the above, he's not very good at cooking... he burns things. A lot.

• during his emoism™️ he would kick things, punch things, slam things etc and every time, he'd act cool about it until he was out of the room. Then he lets out a little owie or a hiss of pain </3

• started cursing more the moment his hair was tied up. He was convinced it made him sound more mature. Even after everything's said and done and he's doing better mentally + friends with Florian and co again, he can't quite shake the habit and curses every so often in conversation

• resting bitch face + talks in a 'moody' quiet voice a lot, leading people to think he's annoyed when he's actually feeling neutral or even happy

• if cat person vs dog person exists in the Pokémon universe, Kieran’s a cat person. I guess this means he likes Pokémon that are more like cats, whether they actually are cats or not

• he likes flowers a lot. That's it that's the headcanon. I think he'd like sketching them and studying them, maybe his original pokémon team and the open fields of Kitakami made him interested? And, funnily enough, his crush's name means blossoming, flourishing flower....

• he still stays up late and sometimes doesn't sleep at all, but this is much rarer now. Normally it's because he has a good(-ish) reason not to sleep– at least, that's what he says.

• applin was his first Pokémon!

• when he traded Florian an applin, Florian traded back a shiny applin. He actually started this search right after he left Kitakami, and found it a week before heading to Blueberry; he was prepared and wanted a good way to apologise. Of course, he didn't expect what'd happened with Kieran.

• Florian has a shiny furret. It was on his team when he fought Kieran and won; after Kieran boxed his own for being too weak. Ouch.... (based on the fact I had furret as one of my last pokemon when his ace went down </3) this is technically a Florian hc but!! It made Kieran rethink a little, later on. It was also extremely devastating at the time

• Kieran naturally gets really good at battling. He could 100% be part of the elite four or even the champion when he's older, even with him slowing down and doing battles just for fun

• Kieran doesn't always enjoy physical touch, but he's also pretty touch starved. He likes hugs and anything gentle, and usually only from people he knows well

Feel free to ask for more headcanons about him or candyapple etc in future, I love doing these posts!

[luveline]

hiiiiiiiii jade! <3

would you be willing to write a fic about girl dad!spencer x bombshell!reader? i can only imagine what an adorable riot their daughter would be!!!

tysm!

ty for requesting!! mom!reader

Spencer always thought you were too beautiful for him. Too funny, too brave, too confident. For years he feared he’d never be anyone you could love; he was the opposite of all your best parts, he talked too much about the wrong things, he went red whenever you so much as looked at him, and he couldn’t flirt back, not for anything. 

But it’s been a very long time since he felt that way. What good is a father who doesn’t believe in being yourself? Amanda deserved to be loved from the moment she drew breath, and he shouldn’t have been any different. 

Now, though, he’s wondering if he shouldn’t be so accepting of all her whims. “I am not wearing that, daddy,” she says. 

She’s just old enough to put together sentences but young enough that the individual words sound like building blocks, chunky and clumsy on her little mouth. Her lips are yours, her smiles and frowns one hundred percent you. (Though you argue with him often that the quizzical pout she does is all his.)

“What do you mean, angel?” he asks, bent over her sock drawer looking for a matching pair. 

“This is pink, and this is purple.” She points. 

“Yes, and you like pink and purple!” 

“I like pink… and I like purple,” she says. 

“But not together?” he asks knowingly. “You want them at different times, is that it?” 

She runs for his legs, hugging them tightly. “Thank you.” 

“You’re so much like your mommy it’s scary,” he whispers playfully, leaning down to pat her small back. “Okay, angel. I’ll find you a different dress to wear. Or maybe the dungarees!”

She lifts her chin up to smile at him. “Y’okay.” 

“Spencer, Amy!” you call, voice carrying from the kitchen. “Are you guys ready? We have to go soon and you haven’t even eaten!” 

Spencer used to sit at his desk daydreaming about you. He’d drink five cups of tea a day to get to walk past you for the kitchenette, hoping you’d be making a coffee, that you’d flirt with him over corporate rewarded donuts. Now you’re making him breakfast as he persuades your daughter into jelly shoes because she wants tall shoes like mommy. They compromise —Any will wear the wrong shoes if Spencer agrees to carry her to the kitchen table. 

“Sorry,” Spencer says as he pushes open the door into the kitchen. He's trying to be the best dad he can be all the time, but he doesn’t have a knack for the mornings like you do. “We won’t be late.” 

“That depends on how agreeable my lovely girl is feeling today.” You pick up the pink plastic plate you’ve filled with eggs, toast, and a mix of washed berries. “What do you think, Amy? Looks nummy?”

“Chocolate chip?” she asks, eyes already widening. 

“It’s breakfast, honey,” you say, scooping her out of Spencer’s arm to carry her to the table. “Chocolate chips are for dinner.” 

“Please?”

“If you promise to be really super duper good at Uncle Derek’s, then yes, you can have some chocolate chips,” you say, tucking her chair in, and kissing her chubby cheek. “You want me to make you milk or juice, mm?”

Spencer spots the two plates you’ve made up for you and him on the counter and quickly brings them to the table, sliding yours in front of you with a long-pronged fork, his hand on your shoulder to keep you in your seat. “I’ll get it,” he says, ducking down to kiss you on the side of the mouth. 

You turn to Amy. “See that, sweetheart? See how nice and kind your daddy is to me? He’s soooo nice. This is why we love him so much, and we appreciate him so much.” 

Amy nods emphatically, blueberries tumbling off of her plastic fork. “So much,” she echoes, her voice like melting sugar. 

He has a weird moment by the fridge where he has to grip the handle. “You know I used to dream about making you a cup of coffee in the mornings?” he asks. 

“Spencer, come over here and kiss me again, please,” you say, sympathetic and fond.

“Me too!” Amy says through fruit. “Me first.” 

“Oh, gosh, this is one of the hardest decisions of my life,” he says, sweeping in to dot your cheeks with kisses, hers then yours, three apiece.