#but are we surprised? it’s soup :)

[add1ctedt0you]

What a plot twist you were. [x]

[fisheito]

yakuya in MY swamp? in MY ecosystem? no . i am still in disbelief. i hope you all know that my particles are bouncing off the everything. i am using periods as punctuation but the state of my mind is naught neareth final.

[incorrect-fnaf-quotes]

Boiling springtrap in2 a soup <3

Boil that bnnuy into a soup and send said soup to Spacie or something.

[kalolasfantasyworld]

Illustration for chapter 32. The man she loves of Paper Hearts Black Clover fanfiction.

Mellon soup pose reference

[curiositykilledtheradiostar]

HEY WHY THE FUCK DID NO ONE TELL ME WICKED IS GOOD

[panb1mbo]

i like being an adult you can have soup for breakfast and no one can tell you shit

[getoutofmytardis]

ed and stede staying with izzy and buttons coming to visit 😭

[crownconstellation]

I'm hiding under your sink stealing your bread and crab soup

NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! GET OUT FROM THERE!!!!!!!!!

[i-spilled-my-soup]

under assumption that platos dialogues take form of fanfiction some conclusions can be drawn

[writersmorgue]

What’s your most common “Additional Tags” tag?

...whump

[scrawlingskribbles]

oh look, here I go again reaching for the hot cheetos 😂 sweet, delicious hubris……..

[astrxealis]

i am so used to my pinned post i kinda don't want to change the format but i want to

[cleocatrablossy]

I’m so used to being near pasture that the concept of no coyotes, no turkeys, no deer, no cows, no risks of bobcats or mountain lions, no rattlers, and no random hawk circles is utterly bizarre.

Watching a video of a guy who moved to the US from Britain be surprised and mildly scared by coyotes.

The silly little dogs that you’ll see wandering the hills every once in a while.

Like… obviously you need to have a respect for them and being cautious in cougar territory or during snake season is important but being surprised or even scared of any of the animals around here is just a foreign concept.

[kn11ves]

something about me is that everybody fucking loves my soup

[ssahotchnerr]

👉🏼👈🏼 is it ok to request a fic where jack starts trying to take care of the reader the way he sees his dad does? like maybe hotch is away from a case and reader gets sick or sad or idk, so jack takes it upon himself to be there for reader? like maybe he even starts referring reader with the same pet name hotch calls her? tysm!

like dad does

aw 🥹 cw; fem!reader, established relationship, mentions of sickness, fluff <3

you awoke with a gentle start; a trail of cold water trickling down the side of your face, pooling vaguely in your ear.

likewise, a more concrete sensation was set on your forehead - a cold compress. most likely a washcloth, and one that hadn't been wrung out too much at that.

but it was relieving, a delightful contrast from your burning forehead.

"oops," a small mumble came directly from your left ear, as well as a soft exhale of a breath. "sorry."

"jack?" you muttered, rather drowsily. you forced your eyes open, finding jack's sweet, concerned face beside you. "what're you doing?"

"i'm taking care of you." he explained softly, his tone so nonchalant as if it were the most obvious and simplest thing in the world. he reached forward, adjusting the top of the blanket that was draped overtop you. "like dad does. he put the washcloth on you yesterday, you 'member?"

he was right; you were on day two, maybe three? of a nasty bout of the flu. quite honestly you didn't know what day it was, they all blurred together, and your scattered sleep schedule didn't help. you offered him a nod.

"thank you." you gave him a small, closed mouth smile. if it weren't for the germs, you'd reach out to touch his cheek. you sat up a bit from your position in bed, your voice hoarse. "where is your dad?"

"a meeting."

your eyebrows furrowed, the facial movement burning your sinuses. "he's home?"

jack nodded, "he's in his office, but he said it might take a long time. so that's why i'm helping you feel better."

his face brightened a bit, as if a realization struck him. he reached into his pant's pocket, retrieving a few cough drops he had shoved in there, dropping them onto your blanket covered chest.

"i'm sorry i can't make you soup." jack apologized, solemnly as his shoulders dropped. "but i'm not allowed to use the stove."

your face softened, the weak smile resurfacing. "that's okay bud, don't worry. you can help dad make some later when he's done, how 'bout that?"

he nodded enthusiastically, before hoisting himself onto your bed.

"hey no no no, i wouldn't," you protested gently, your heart also melting at his action. "i don't want you getting my germs."

"if i get sick i get sick." that's the same thing aaron had said, multiple times, when he insisted on getting into bed with you earlier. jack scooted somewhat close, staying mainly on his father's side of the bed.

"and if i get sick, i don't need to go to school."

you laughed softly, but finding yourself too weak to argue, you did the only thing you could - go right back to sleep.

it was restless; you were in and out of slumber, and could roughly process jack getting up here and there - solely due to the distant sensation of the washcloth leaving and returning to your forehead, dampened once more.

and once aaron's meeting had ceased, he went in to check on you, and was pleasantly surprised, and touched, to see jack accompanying you.

you were out, with jack diligently watching over, while also keeping himself busy - his sketchbook and colored pencils were scattered amongst the bed.

"how's it going?" aaron asked him from the doorway, the door producing a sharp creak as he pushed it forward a tad.

"good. i brought cough drops, the washcloth, and made sure she got lots of rest. just like you did." jack continued to draw as he spoke, before his head shot right up. "can we make soup?"

"sure buddy," aaron nodded, a tinge of pride pulling at his heart. he tilted his head towards the hallway, and jack immediately scrambled off the bed. "c'mon."

[mariasont]

Hii! I saw this gif earlier today and I literally had a brain wave of an idea for fan fic!

Based off this gif below. S2!reid x reader. Reader has called off sick for a few days now and Spencer has been “looking after them” (ifyky) and one of bau members actually comes to help them with their “sickness” and sees Spencer leave like the gif below and he is like “hey.. wow” awkward! (Can be light smug or implied, up to you!!)

Looking After You - S.R

a/n: um i loved writing this one tehe, ur mind is amazing and i thank you for trusting me to make it come to life

masterlist

pairings: spencer reid x fem!reader

warnings: 18+ MDNI, smutsy, spencer giving head (i just know that man gives the best head i really can't think about it for long), reader is sick (kind of), morgan and garcia being nosy per usual

wc: 1k

His mouth was on you, head between your thighs as you pulled at his hair, whining his name between moans. He was a genius, yes of course in the literal sense, but you meant in bed. He was perfect and he ate you out like he was a man starving and this was his first meal in weeks.

You had been down with a cold for the past couple of days, finally seeing the end of the tunnel after some help from Spencer. You had been surprised when he showed up at your door with a plethora of home remedies and even more surprised when one of those remendies included his mouth being glued to your cunt.

Each breath you took, you could feel yourself getting closer—an electric tingle spreading from your toes to your fingers, the tight coiling of desire in your belly. That elusive peak was tantilizingly close, deliciously aching, but just out of reach.

Fate apparently had a twisted sense of humor and decided it would stay out of reach.

The knock on the door was like a cold splash of water causing you to jolt up, but Spencer's large palms clasped around your thighs as if to say, I'm not done with you yet.

The sharp intake of breath was involuntary, a reflex as you sunk back into the mattress. Whoever was at the door would get the message eventually. Right now, you were writhing against the sheets with hands forming fists in the curls of Spencer's hair, and that was all that mattered.

"Oh—yes, Spence, please." You weren't certain you were making sense.

He hummed against your clit, sending full body shockwaves through you as you finally released, like a taut rubber band finally being snapped. You were panting, mumbling something incoherent as your hands sought out Spencer's.

Another knock, more aggressive this time. You struggled to sit up, your mind still hazy, but Spencer's gentle touch coaxed you back down.

"I'll get it," he said, fingers tracing constellations from freckle to freckle on your ankle. "Do what you do best, sit and look pretty."

You laughed weakly, pressing your lips against his before you watched him disappear from the room.

Spencer moved to answer the door, his hand barely grazing over the handle before turning it, but as it swung open, the color drained from his cheeks, eyes widening at the people in front of him.

Garcia and Morgan.

He was suddenly aware of how he looked—hair strewn in every direction, glasses resting lopsidedly on his nose, mouth no doubt still covered in you. That thought prompted him to bring his sleeve up to his face, wiping the remnants away as he simultaneously ran a hand through his hair.

But it was too little too late, they had damning evidence against him now. His first instinct was to slam the door shut, but he hesitated, certain it would worsen the situation. So he remained still, opening and closing his mouth wordlessly, his eyes flickering to the soup and tissues they presented.

"Are we at the wrong apartment?" Penelope whispered, not-so-discreetly, to Morgan.

"Nope, this is definitely the right apartment." Morgan said, smirking as he clasped Spencer on the shoulder. "You've been taking care of her, huh, Reid?"

"Time out!" Penelope squealed, her hands jumping up, almost dropping the soup in the process. "You and—, and you guys are? You're lying. Oh my stars, wait, what were you two doing? Why do you look like you've been... oh, don't tell me!"

Spencer could feel the pink suffusing his face, fingers pinching his brow as he started to shut the door. He should know better than to check the peep hole before opening the door.

Morgan's hand stuck out, preventing the door from shutting any further.

"Hold your horses, pretty boy," Morgan teased, nudging Spencer aside without waiting for an invitation. His eyes darted around your living room as if he would find you. "At least let us do what we came here to do."

Penelope started to set her stuff on the coffee table, her face displaying her thrilled emotions like an open book.

"I can't wait for JJ to know about this, she's going to freak," Garcia says, clasping on to Morgan's arm.

Morgan laughed, patting her hand as he shook his head. "No one is going to tell anyone. Your secret is safe with us, pretty boy. We're a vault, aren't we, baby girl?"

"Yeah, okay, fine," Penelope started, lips pursing as she peered into the kitchen. "But just so we're clear, this is going to be like swallowing a live grenade of gossip.

Now it was Spencer's turn to laugh, head shaking as he pushed his glasses to the top of his nose.

"Thanks, guys. I'm sure she's going to appreciate this."

He nodded towards the items, disregarding their comments as he awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, walking them both to the door and hoping to the gods you would stay put.

"Alright, we'll let you get back to... whatever this is," Morgan conceded, hands shooting up in defense as he stepped out the door. "But hey, you make her cry, and I'll be using those spaghetti limbs of yours to mop the floor."

"Morgan!" Penelope said, slapping him on the shoulder.

"Unnecessary, but understood," Spencer said, waving towards the exit. "Now, if you wouldn't mind..."

He could feel the migraine coming on.

"Oh my god."

They were both looking behind him, he followed their gaze, seeing you standing there just outside the bedroom door, wearing his boxers and one of his Star Trek shirts.

He slammed the door shut.

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