#i hope someone is thinking of me!!!!!!!!!!!

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

girl i love your shut up mom and career day fic so much!!!!!! i was wondering if you can do something similar to bothh? no pressure if you dont wanna!

Baby's first words

Tags: fluff, crack, jjk men as dads x fem!reader, angst on Nanami's!!!

Synopsis: You and your husband have been trying to get your child to say their first words. Chaos ensues.

An: I hope this is close enough to what you were requesting!! I really couldn't think of much more. Also, I want to point out that I completely forgot that Todo's first name is Aoi. I want to clarify that it is completely unrelated to your baby's name with Satoru lol.

SATORU • SUGURU • TOJI • SUKUNA • NANAMI

SATORU

"Alright Aoi, say da-da, and I'll give you this yummy scoop of baby food." Your husband coaxes as he holds out a spoonful of baby food just out of your small baby's reach.

"Stop bribing our kid to say dada." You giggle as you walk up to your adorable baby sat in his high chair. You fluffed Satoru's hair affectionately with your hand. These were the moments that made life worth living.

"Hmph. I want dada to be his first word. Wouldn't that be so cool?" He asks with a small pout as he coaxes your baby's attention again with the spoon. "C'mon Aoi, da-da." He sounds out the word phonetically to try to teach Aoi.

However, your pretty blue-eyed baby looked up at you with the brightest smile. "Mama!" Aoi cried as he made grabby hands for you.

Yours and Satoru's mouths completely dropped. While you immediately started laughing and picking up Aoi out of the highchair to snuggle your baby, your husband just looked at you with a bittersweet pout. He wanted to be y'all's baby's first words, but it was worth it to see your reaction to Aoi saying mama.

"That's right, baby. Mama." You encourage, smooching him on his chubby little cheek.

"Alright, I get it kid. I'd say mama to get a kiss too." Satoru laughs as he holds out his cheek towards you with a playful grin.

Jokingly rolling your eyes, you press a kiss to Satoru's cheek too.

SUGURU

"Alright girls, can you say da-da?" You said to the two young twin girls in their highchairs. You pointed to Geto as he stood next to you.

"They're too young to be talking, darling." He muses as he looks at your twin girls.

"But they're not too young to learn. Don't act like you don't want to hear them say dada." You poke Geto in his side, causing for him to let out a hearty chuckle.

"I want to keep them as young for as long as possible. Watching them grow up is going to send me into an early retirement." He says as he lovingly rubs on your back.

A doorbell sounding throughout the house caused your husband to sigh deeply. He hated being pulled away from these moments with you and the girls.

"Were you expecting someone?" You curiously ask.

"No, it's probably just one of those filthy monkeys again." He gripes as he pinches the bridge of his nose.

"Dada!" Mimiko shouts with a giggle, garnering both your attentions.

"You really have to stop saying that in front of the girls." You chide as Geto picks up Mimiko from her highchair.

"My sweet girl." He grins at the baby in his hands and blows a raspberry on her cheek.

The doorbell rings again, and you sigh this time. "I guess I'll go get it." You say as you start to walk away.

"M-m... ma..ma.." Nanako quietly whimpered as your presence left the room.

"Oh, it's okay, little one. She'll be back." Geto soothes as he picks his other daughter up with his other arm. What's the purpose of having two arms if you couldn't snuggle both your twin daughters at the same time?

After scaring off a salesman, you return to the heartwarming sight.

"You missed it, darling. Nanako said mama." Geto informs you with a proud smile.

"I always miss the good parts!" You complain as you scoop Nanako up out of Geto's arms. "I hope they stay this little forever."

"Me too."

TOJI

"Okay Gumi, can you say ma-ma?" You say as you're staring with a bright smile at your flat expression baby. He honestly looks like he might be judging you for even insinuating that he'd say mama.

"Okay, tough crowd." You muse as you hand Megumi one of his toys for him to play with.

You have been trying to teach him how to say mama for the past month or so, but he hasn't really said much of anything. He'll babble sometimes, but it's rare.

You were concerned about his mental and social development, but his pediatrician assured you that there was nothing wrong with little Megumi.

"He just doesn't want to talk yet." The doctor informed you with a lighthearted laugh.

It was semi-funny, but you couldn't help and compare with other moms. You knew it was wrong and every baby developed at their own rate, but you really just wanted to hear your baby's sweet voice.

Toji walks in through the front door immediately kicking his shoes off. "No one touch me. I'm covered in blood." He grunts as he tries his best to maneuver and not spread the blood everywhere.

Given his job, you were already use to this. "It's not yours, right?" You ask as you look up at him.

"Course not, babe. What do you take me for? An amateur?" He asks with a cocky grin.

Megumi looks up from his highchair, and his eyes immediately go as big as saucers upon seeing his dad walk in through the door. "Papa!" He immediately cries out, making grabby hands towards Toji.

You stare at your son in disbelief. "You little traitor!" You whine, but you also feel the relief pool into you. Your baby really just didn't want to talk to you, but that's fine.

"Ahh you little shit. You would do this when I can't pick you up. Your mama will kill me if I get blood on you." He grins as he carefully pats Megumi's hair with a clean hand.

"Damn right. Go shower." You instruct with a small grin.

"Yes mam." He retorts playfully as he shot you a little wink.

SUKUNA

"Okay Ryu, say ma-ma." You say to your little pink-haired baby as he's looking at you from his high chair.

"That's so amateur. He's the son of the king." Sukuna says as he pulls up a chair and sits backwards in it, facing y'all's baby. "Say dismantle." He grins wildly, and your sweet baby just giggles at him.

"You dare laugh in the face of a king, hm?" Sukuna asks as he playfully narrows his eyes. Despite how scary he was trying to seem, Ryu just kept smiling at him and giggling.

"Stop trying to get our baby to say cursed techniques." You chide your husband while shaking your head.

"Fine. Say Satoru Gojo's a bitch."

"Ryomen!"

"What!?" Sukuna shouts defensively. "I'll never forgive that white-haired bastard for teaching his kid to say 'kuna sucks'." You quietly laugh remembering that random video that was sent to you two.

In their older age, Sukuna and Satoru had settled on having a baby race. Constantly filming their baby's milestones and gloating to the other.

Sukuna had practically cheered whenever little Ryu was eating more solid foods than Gojo's kid was.

"D...d.." Ryu babbles and tries to get his syllables right.

"Woman. Get your phone machine out. He's going to cast his first domain." Sukuna says as he's immediately grabbing onto your arm.

"Sukuna, for the last time. It's just called a phone, and he's not going to cast a domain." You say as you start recording your little baby Ryu.

"Da..da... dada." Your son babbles out reaching up towards his dad.

Sukuna's face slightly drops, but it wasn't to one of sadness. No, he felt surprised. His son was reaching to him, calling for him. To most people, he was the King of Curses, but to little Ryu, he was simply dada.

Your husband scoops your son into his arms, hugging him lovingly. "I'll let you slide just this once. Next time you'll cast a domain." He says playfully while cradling his son in his arms.

Later, you would get a text from Gojo after sending him that video.

Gojo: Cute kid. Sukuna looks happy. Fucker is finally softening in his prehistoric age.

NANAMI

"Say da-da..." Your voice plays over Nanami's phone as he watches the video you just sent him of you teaching Hana how to say her first words.

"Dada!" Hana yells with a cheerful smile while clapping her little hands together.

Your husband smiles, missing you two dearly right now. It feels like his heart lives outside his chest. If he could afford it, he'd go home and snuggle with you two.

Yn: Stay safe out there, Ken. Please.

He promptly texts back, promising that he'll be back home before you know it. Though, something about the air in Shibuya tonight gave Nanami second guesses about that.

He could leave. He could leave right now and return home to you and his daughter, but his students and his peers need him.

Yn: The power's out here, Ken. Is everything alright?

Yn: Jesus I can hear the explosions from here...

Yn: Please tell me that you're safe...

Yn: Hana and I are evacuating. I love you. Please text me as soon as you can.

Yn: You fuckig promised... you liedd to me.

Yn: What do I tell Hana every time she says dada?

[pathologicalreid]

litmus test | s.r.

in which Spencer needs your expertise to help solve a murder, but crime fighting is most decidedly not for you

find more chemist!reader here!

who? spencer reid x chemist!reader category: flangst (like. the end is a little angsty and it has case details) content warnings: typical cm violence, science talk, fem!reader, reader is not built for crime, morgan being an older brother, some fun banter!! death by firework is crazy lmao word count: 1.68k a/n: this is one of my favorite fluff pieces i've written in agessss i missed chemist!reader so much i learn so many things when i'm writing her. this was a request! i hope you like it as much as i do!!

“Do you have a second?” Spencer asks, his voice slightly choppy over the phone. Between his ancient phone and being inside concrete police precincts, some disconnect was bound to happen.

Saving your document to your computer, you rest the lab phone between your shoulder and ear, “If you’re asking me if I have any corrosive chemicals in my hands, the answer is no.”

He chuckles lightly, “I never know with you.”

You roll your eyes in response, even if he can’t see you, “It was one time and I needed a new phone case anyway.”

“You fused the plastic of your phone case to the material of your phone,” he retorts far too quickly for your liking.

“Yes,” you acquiesce, “but I know the exact chemical reaction that caused that phenomenon.” You cross your legs one over the other, maintaining your balance on your lab stool as you speak to Spencer over the phone.

He gave a light hum in response, “Speaking of chemical reactions – I need your help.”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, “You’re asking me for help in chemistry?” There really was a first time for everything, you suppose.

Spencer was more than capable of navigating a lab on his own, even so, he admits, “You have more applied practice than I do.”

Pursing your lips, you nod to yourself, “Fair enough. What’s stumping you, Dr. Reid?” Your inquiry, while innocent enough, garners a wolf whistle from your graduate assistant.

“There’s something burning a hole in these bones, and I’m not sure what would be causing it to happen this fast,” he explains, giving you minor background information on how long the bones were out and if the medical examiner had treated them with something.

You clear your throat, frowning at the notes you had scrawled down in front of you, “Burning or corroding?” What was seemingly a meaningless distinction would actually allow you to filter through approximately half of the possibilities.

“Corroding,” he corrects himself, “My mistake.”

Crossing off some of your notes, you purse your lips at the new possibilities, “No worries. Did you try flushing it out with water?”

You hear papers flipping on his end of the call before you get a response, “That would destroy evidence.”

“Well,” you raise your eyebrows, “It sounds like your evidence is destroying itself.”

“Baby,” Spencer says in a no-nonsense tone reserved for when he was deep in a case. You could’ve sworn you heard Morgan in the background of the call mocking him for the pet name.

Turning back to your notes, you sigh, “Yeah, yeah, all work and no play. Was the body buried?”

“Partially,” his reply intrigues you, “I can have Garcia send you the crime scene photos if you think it’ll help.”

Wrinkling your nose at the thought, you made an unsure sound, “Right, because nothing says lunchtime like getting up close and personal with a homicide victim.”

“What lunchtime? It’s three pm in D.C. right now,” he caught you, a slight chiding tone in his words.

Ignoring his questions, you ask more of your own, “Was the body near water? Did they test the pH of the soil and water?”

There were more papers flipping, likely someone presenting the results of those tests to him, “Yeah, the soil was a five-point two and the water was a seven-point eight,” he listed off for you.

While your knowledge of the pH of the soil in Iowa was limited, you did know that those levels were pretty on par for the northern Mississippi River. “O-kay,” you say, extending your vowels, “and they didn’t find anything else on the scene that points to corrosive materials. Hydrofluoric acid?” You posit, “No, you know what – maybe you should send me those files. My work email is encrypted, you can give it to Penelope.”

He speaks to someone else in the room with him and you resist the urge to ask him if he’s enjoying Iowa, “It’s sent,” he confirms with you.

Pulling up your email only takes a moment, and once you get over the initial shock of seeing a dead body on your computer screen, you lift your lab glasses to the top of your head in order to get a better look. “I mean,” you think for a moment, “those look like alkali burns to me. I’ve never seen them on bones before, but you should do a litmus test to check either way.”

“So, we rinse it with water?” He asks, seeking instruction from you in a way that makes you feel oddly powerful.

Your eyes widen, “No, no, no. If it’s a metal compound then it’ll be covered in a mineral oil, so rinsing it with water would actually make the burn worse.”

Pausing for a moment, you consider the possibility that Spencer didn’t have the luxury of time – he was trying to solve a murder, not do experiments in a lab.

“Alkali burns can be serious, it all depends on what caused them, and most are helped by rinsing with water. So, unless you have the time to test for metal compounds, I’d go ahead and rinse it. You might want to brush the damage to the bones with a dry brush first. If there’s lime on the bones it’ll foam, which not only will corrode the bones even further but it might release a toxic gas,” you have no idea how the corrosion would interact with bone marrow, but something tell you that you don’t want to know

“Wait a minute,” Derek interjects, being included in the conversation now that Spencer put the call on speaker, “I thought things like alkaline water were good for you.”

You scoff instinctively, “Oh, there’s no definitive evidence that shows alkaline water as having any real health benefits. Especially not the benefits that the internet says it has.” Straightening up in your stool, you continue, “In fact, there is evidence from the NIH that says drinking alkaline water could cause kidney damage. There’s a particular-“

“My bad,” he interjects, effectively stopping your rambling before it really took off, “I forgot whose girlfriend I was talking to.”

Groaning at your new vexation, you huff, “Oh, fuck off, Derek. Go kick down a door.”

Spencer quickly switches the phone back, “Thank you, angel.”

Squinting at the photos that were still on your laptop screen, a crude, disturbing thought came to mind, “You know, sparklers can cause alkali burns. It might be something to consider because of the diameter of the burns.”

Your boyfriend was silent on his end of the call for so long that you had to check and make sure the call hadn't dropped. “Did you say sparklers?”

“Yep,” you confirm, “like the ones you can get everywhere this time of year.”

He says something to Morgan, placing his hand over the receiver so you can’t hear, “There’s only one spot in this town, though. I’ve gotta go, see you soon.”

“Stay safe, please! I prefer your bones unburned,” you rattle off into the phone before it clicks, placing the phone back on the stand and deleting the crime scene photos from your inbox.

The front door to the apartment opens and shuts quietly, with Spencer under the assumption that you already went to bed, he was surprised to find you on the couch, nursing a cup of tea. “Hey, baby,” he chirps, unusually peppy for this time of night.

“Hey,” you say half-heartedly, threading your fingers through the handle of the mug.

Your somber tone gets Spencer’s attention, “What’s wrong?”

The slight panic in his voice causes your eyes to snap up to his, “Nothing,” you murmur. “It’s just… the woman who was in those pictures. There- the burns on her bones, they were signs of torture, weren’t they?”

You’d been thinking about the burns ever since Spencer showed them to you, “Yes,” he answers with a reciprocating softness, sitting down next to you on the couch. “The medical examiner concluded that she was burned antemortem.”

That woman had been burned alive by fireworks, sparklers had seared their way through skin and muscle until it finally met her bones. You blink a few tears from your eyes at the thought, “I like my lab, Spence.”

The confusion on his face was palpable, “I know you do.”

“I like my minimal human interaction and my chemicals, and I like knowing why certain things cause certain reactions. I like it when things make sense.” You take a deep, shaky breath, “Killing someone. Torturing someone with fireworks. That just doesn’t make sense to me.”

You had no interest in hearing the excuses that the killer had provided. You had no interest in hearing the psychological breakdown of that woman’s killer. Spencer knows that, “The photos got to you?”

Taking a sip from your mug, you nod solemnly, “I can’t stop thinking about the way it must have felt. Oh, the smell must have been horrible. That poor woman.” In theory, it was a ridiculous notion, killing someone with fireworks seemed neither probable nor possible. Yet here you are.

“But we got the person who killed her,” Spencer reassures you, resting his hand gently on your knee. “We couldn’t have done it without you,” he adds.

Your face warms at his compliment, “I wish I could have helped before she was killed.” You were grateful that Spencer hadn’t passed on any personal information about the woman, it was easier for you if you kept things in separate storage files in your mind.

Spencer hums, reaching out and sweeping a strand of hair behind your ear, “There’s always going to be another one. I’m sorry about the photos, I should’ve made sure Garcia only sent the necessary ones.”

Nodding absentmindedly, you look at him thoughtfully, “This will pass, but for tonight I just feel bad for the victim.”

“I can have Penelope share some of her favorite baby animal videos, if you’d like,” he offers softly, resting his head on your shoulder.

In return, you give him a small smile, “Well, I suppose it really can’t hurt.”

[writingmeraki]

...oops? ( f1! texts )

❝ in which you accidentally message the wrong number talking shit ( read:thirst ) about them but turns out the number isn't who you think it was.

( or where the f1 drivers are the annoyances of your life and you unknowingly bitch about them to their faces. )

feat. charles leclerc, carlos sainz, lando norris, oscar piastri, max verstappen, lewis hamilton, george russell. warnings : cussing. tons of it.

CL16

CS55

LN04

OP81

MV01

GR63

LH44

a/n : my f1 writing ( technically smau) debut!?! pretty much with the new theme comes the entire change of posting format hehe also i now realise how random this is....like but it is sort of based on this dream i had lmfaooo except it was actually someone who i absolutely hate..also i cant have any beef with oscar and lewis idk I tried guys but they're both soo sweet looking its hard to get mad at them for a sane reason ( not that the rest is sane because 99% is just being mad at them for being hot BYE) I hope you liked this and pls let me know what you think!!!

i am opening reqs for f1 and taglist for this so let me know if you want to be added cause I do have a lot more planned !

all written works as well as images and edits (unless credited) belong to pri. do not plagiarise, repost, re-edit or claim as yours. pics mostly found on pinterest.

writingmeraki Ⓒ 2024

feedback is always appreciated 💌 ! links : main navi ! | f1 masterlist ! | info !

[luveline]

hello might i ask for sassy badass reckless reader who is the #1 leading cause of aaron's gray hairs pls 🤞🏻 he is SO exasperated with her like he is TIRED™ but also tweaking bcs he's horrendously down bad for her he's gna throw up

Good morning. I hope you slept well, honey. Can you come to work early, say 6.10AM? I’d like to see you and talk about something in person. 

You squint at the text that’s just come through. Another follows as you’re finishing, lighting the dark of your room.

I love you. Sorry, I know you don’t like when I forget to tell you in the mornings. 

Your own response is sent without propriety. I love you too handsome. 6.10 is not gonna work.

Can you make an effort for me? he asks. 

You do your very best. 

“It’s almost seven,” Hotch says when you finally get there that morning, his frown audible and plain to see. 

You hold up the bag of sugar donuts you’d purchased from the truck on the square just outside of Quantico’s endless parking lots. “Necessary delay.” 

“Unnecessary. I asked you nicely to come early and you’re barely on time,” he grumbles. 

How adorable. You put the bag of donuts on the desk and ignore the paperwork laid out waiting for you in favour of his side of the desk. He smells like cedar, his suit sleeve starched under your hand. You lean back against the lip of his desk and pretend you hadn’t been thinking about climbing into his lap —he’s formidable and lovely and that’s the best combination for lounging about atop someone, especially when that someone is very good at pressing you backwards, and better at kissing your neck. 

He knows what you’re thinking. “You’ve woken up in a mood,” he murmurs. 

“A good one,” you promise. 

You take his coffee and steal a sip. Hotch, resigned, lays a hand on your thigh. “I have important things to talk about, you know? I thought I made that clear this morning.” 

“You made a couple of things clear.” 

“Don’t say it like that.” 

“Like what?” 

“Like I…” He tilts his head to the side. “Like I’ve been sending you dirty texts or photos.” 

“Is that an option? I don’t think I’ve subscribed to those emails.” 

“You make me out to be this salacious lark–”

“Aaron, I don’t do anything of the sort.” You can hardly hold back a laugh. “I’m sorry I implied you were sexting me, okay? I wish you had been.” He sighs a long-suffering sigh as you carry on. “But you were very formal. I’ll be sure to tell HR the same thing.” 

His hand slips between your thighs. Nowhere it shouldn’t be, just trapped between soft flesh. “Don’t tell HR anything.” 

His coffee is lukewarm and unsweetened on your tongue. Would it kill your uptight love to add just a dash of cream and sugar? Wrinkling your nose, you set aside the mug and press your mildly heated hand to his cheek. Just quickly, brushing a thumb up to the skin below his eye before you let it fall. “Tell me what you wanted me to come in early for. And, for the record, I’m sorry for not trying to get here before, just I didn’t sleep well, and my neck hurt too much to rush.” 

He looks like he wants to ignore your apology. He doesn’t ask you for much, and showing up when he’d wanted you to would’ve been the kinder thing to do —he can be annoyed as both boss or boyfriend. 

But he doesn’t have it in him. 

“Why didn’t you sleep?” he asks softly. 

“Thinking too much about my nice boyfriend.” 

“Really?” 

You slouch a little. Cover his hand where it rests between your legs. “I don’t know. It was really hot, and my mattress is getting old, probably.” 

He ushers you down for a sympathetic kiss. He’s always so sorry to hear about your minor ailments, he must like you too much. 

You attempt to crawl into his lap, curling an arm behind his head. He, disgruntled and yet far from reluctant, lets you take a seat. 

[sheyfu]

yappologist degree holder ༊*·˚

𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗜𝗥 𝗩𝗢𝗜𝗖𝗘𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗘𝗦 about you.

feat. dan heng, aventurine, luocha, jing yuan, gepard, jiaoqiu, argenti and moze (gn!reader)

cw. ooc (very); jiaoqiu talks a lot; [slight] sexual innuendos

note. TRYING SOMETHING NEW GRAHHHHHH i dont think i captured their personalities correctly but 🙏🙏 WE BALL LAMSDOASDI i hope you guys enjoy it >:DD reader is identified as [name] and uses they/them prns (GANG I TRIED MY BEST LAMSDOAMSD) if you see me use fem prns in this piece please tell me <3 lmk if you'd like a pt. 2 w other chars (WOMEN ASHDUASHDUH)

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ DAN HENG

about [name] [name]? what about them?

chat: significant other  [name] is my significant other. aside from the express, they’re one of the only ones keeping me grounded whenever i become… “emo”. their words, not mine.

chat: sleep sleep is something i found hard to come by; everytime i closed my eyes, visions of my past appeared. but now that [name] is by my side, it has become easier to fall to a peaceful rest.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ AVENTURINE

about [name] through a game of life or death is how [name] and i met. hm? unconventional you say? well, it’s one of the reasons why i fell for them.

chat: bet betting has become an integral part of [name] and i’s life. while it’s not a common way of expressing your love for someone, it’s how we do things. whether those bets entail having to have the other run errands or even give your own life up, it sends spikes of adrenaline up our bones resulting in a very fun game of cat and mouse.

chat: loss there are seldom games i lose — and most of the time, i still somehow come out as, partially, a winner. but for some reason, whenever i offer a game of chance against [name], i seem to lose every game we have. i can’t lie, i get somewhat annoyed at how i can’t seem to win a game against them. but then again, life would be dull if it were just an unending series of wins.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ LUOCHA

about [name] [name] is a travelling merchant i’ve come to know over the past years of my journeys as one myself. if i didn't have anyone to rely on before, i've got my dearest to thank now. 

chat: bargain as a merchant, it is important for me to know how to bargain, especially when deals presented to me are severely unfair for me. i must admit, i wasn’t very good at striking fair deals when i was starting off my path as a travelling merchant. but over the years, [name] has taught me a lot about this art. by observing their ways of negotiating, i am now able to attain very fair and valuable trades. 

chat: aromatherapy with [name]’s upbringing as an herb specialist, i get to experience their family’s aromatherapy service. with every scent i am presented with, i am able to clear my mind and slip in the embrace of solitude and calm. 

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ JING YUAN

about [name] [name] is someone who can ease my troubled mind with an embrace; the calm in my storm, the light of my life, and the heart of my soul.

chat: birds when little birds flock to my head, my spouse wonders if im this character called… snow white… *sigh* i am not sure as to who that is due to my upbringing as a military leader — i had no time for these trivial tales. but whenever they tell tales about this... gizney? no.. bizney? not quite right either.. ah yes, disney princess, the intent of me being dressed with robes of royalty are reflected in their eyes.

chat: mimi what was once a kitten, has now grown into a ferocious little lion. i remember when i first got her, [name] was all over the poor thing — smothering it with their love and words of praise — mimi didn’t complain though, she let herself get spoiled. and even up until now, she’s still that same, little spoiled lion she is. 

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ GEPARD

about [name] [name] is my significant other – how i was able to catch their eye? i don’t know. sometimes, i doubt my ability to love, especially with my role as the captain of the silvermane guards. but whenever those thoughts appear in my mind, [name] is there to quell my uneasy mind.

chat: family the way [name] treats lynx makes me feel… funny. i can’t really describe it but my heart beats whenever they entertain my little sister. oh, and don’t even get me started with how serval treats them. *sigh* what should i do to ease this beating heart of mine?

chat: de-stress ways on how to de-stress? well, after a long day i am usually greeted with the embrace of my beloved once i step into our abode… then after that i’m littered with- o-oh.. apologies. i was supposed to give advice. let’s start over again, shall we?

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ JIAOQIU

about [name] [name]? you want to now about them? well you see, as general feixiao’s doctor, it is important for me to have assistants whenever patients visit the clinic in a time when i am tending to duties involving her – this is where my dear [name] comes in. they’ve been with me from the start; us being classmates in the medicinal school we attended and all that. they’re easily one of the very dearest people in my life. most people only know them as my assistant due to their preference of upholding a “low-profile”; of course, i am very much alright with it. but when time comes and they’re ready to reveal our bond to the world, i’ll be the happiest man in the whole entire cosmos.

chat: sweets  oh? you liked the sweets i gave you? well, you have my dear [name] to thank. they’re quite the connoisseur when it comes to making them. speaking of sweets, i forgot to mention we have a pastry shop in aurum alley. if you’re able to drop by, i’ll consider giving you a bundle of sweets, and probably other pastries, free of charge.

chat: coriander whatever you do, please do not hand me a bunch of coriander. i will absolutely lose my mind having to deal with a coriander-obsessed lover. 

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ARGENTI

about [name] my love for [name] transcends even the distant stars of the cosmos. my heart, my soul, and my own being belong to them. 

chat: roses roses are my beloved’s favourite flowers, as they are mine. every morning, i wake from my peaceful slumber to see my dear tending to the beds of flowers with a gentle smile on their face that makes me fall in love all over again. *sigh* i miss them so much, trailblazer.. please bring me back to my ship. i would like to sink into my lover’s embrace at this moment. 

chat: baking my beloved takes time to make my preference for thick baguettes each and every morning. while it warms me to receive such a valuable gift, i am not sure if i am deserving of their unconditional love for i am just a mere knight of beauty, idiotically searching for the goddess i’ve devoted myself to.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ MOZE

about [name] i am [name]’s lover. i am bound to them by fate and affection which is why you shouldn’t come close to them — unless you’d like to request an audience with the weapon in my hand.

chat: shadow [name] gets frightened whenever i appear randomly — jiaoqiu tells me it’s a normal reaction as he too, gets startled whenever i show my face to him. although.. im not quite sure how my sudden appearance has them stunned...

chat: cleaning [name] and i share the same hobby of cleaning. whenever i am relieved of my duties assigned by the general, i watch them- no. they tell me of the rather… unconventional ways of cleaning our abode.

tagging: @ayrastv, @whatisnerotypical, @lia-loves

🐈‍⬛: thank you for reading! reblogs, comments, and likes are very much appreciated!

if you'd like to be part of my taglist, please access the gform below! thank you and hope to see you <3

© sheyfu on tumblr

[changetyre]

Hope uni is treating you well! Whenever you have time, could I request a carlos x bodyguard!reader? However u wanna play it but i need a kick ass fem reader. TIA!

Size isn't everything II Carlos Sainz x Bodyguard!Reader

SUMMARY: Carlos gets assigned a new bodyguard and you're not what he expected but he is happily surprised.

WARNINGS: Kinda sexist/cocky Carlos, violence ish, barely suggestive comments.

A/N: I kinda loved this request and it took me a sec to come up with an idea so hope you enjoy ;)

Carlos Sainz was a big name in Formula 1, a Spanish heartthrob used to the chaos that was his job—the screaming and shouting for his name and the often unwanted attention that came with being a Ferrari driver. With his recent rise in fame came an increase in security in every country he traveled to. His team had insisted on bringing in a personal bodyguard after a terrifying incident involving female fans almost getting into his hotel room. Carlos had laughed it off, said it wouldn't happen again and he could take care of himself.

That’s when he met you.

You stood at the entrance to his garage, arms folded, your expression neutral. Petite, a quarter of the size of all the other bodyguards Carlos had ever had. But he couldn't deny there was something about your sharp gaze and confident stance that made you stand out.

You dressed in a black workout set, your hair pulled back into a neat ponytail. If you were nervous about protecting one of the most sought-after names in Formula 1 at his home race you didn’t show it.

Carlos couldn’t help the cheeky grin as he approached you.

“You’re my new bodyguard?” he asked, the skepticism evident in his tone.

You raised an eyebrow. “Seems like it, yeah.” you replied firmly.

He chuckled. “No offense, but aren’t you… a little small for the job?”

Your lips twitched and Carlos was surprised to see a hint of a smile break out. “Size isn’t everything, Sainz.” Your eyes shamelessly scanned him, "You must know that."

Carlos huffed surprised at the insinuation. “Hmm, I guess we'll see.” There was a hint of amusement in his tone.

You just didn’t look like you could handle much. He figured you were probably hired because of your good looks, maybe people would think he had finally found someone and back off.

For the next few days, Carlos treated you like a shadow—hardly noticing you as you followed him from races to meetings, to hotel rooms, always a few steps behind, your presence barely noticeable.

You remained professional, never reacting to his teasing remarks or flirty comments. But there was an undercurrent of tension, a game neither of you had fully acknowledged yet.

It was on the evening before a major race when things took a turn. Carlos plastered on a fake smile as he attended a VIP event at one of Monaco’s exclusive clubs. As usual, he held a drink in hand, surrounded by suck-ups and sportsmen alike. You stood nearby, your eyes scanning the room, attentive.

Carlos had noticed a man lingering at the edge of the crowd, staring intently at him. Initially ignoring it, he was used to this attention from fans anyway. But something about the man’s gaze felt different. Too intense. He shifted uncomfortably, and you were quick to pick up on his unease.

Without a word, you moved closer to him, your posture subtly shifting into something more alert.

“Everything okay?” you asked quietly, your voice barely audible over the loud music.

Carlos's hand wrapped around your waist admiring the change of attire for tonight. The dress showing off your curves better than any of those sets you often wore could.

“Yeah, just… that guy’s giving me weird vibes,” Carlos admitted, nodding discreetly toward the man.

Your eyes flicked toward the man in question. You didn’t hesitate. Turning back to face Carlos you allowed him to hold you. “Stay close,” you instructed, firmly and with no hint of playfulness in your voice.

Carlos opened his mouth to tease, but before he could, the man had moved—pushing through the crowd toward him with alarming speed. In an instant, you'd turned Carlos' hold, blocking his body from the approaching threat. He could hardly believe what happened next.

The man reached out, but before he could lay a hand on Carlos, You'd moved at an impressive speed. Twisting the man’s wrist, using his own momentum against him, sending him crashing to the floor with a thud that made the crowd around them gasp. In seconds, you had the man pinned, screaming in pain, your knee pressed into his back, one hand expertly restraining his arm behind him.

Carlos stood there, dumbfounded.

“Security!” You barked, and within seconds, security rushed over to take the man away. You didn’t even look startled. Standing up, you dusted off your hands, tucked back a strand of hair that had fallen off place, and turned to Carlos, not a bead of sweat or hint of effort on your face.

“We should probably leave,” you said, as if nothing had happened.

Carlos on the other hand was still trying to process what he’d just witnessed. He’d doubted your capabilities, but that display of strength and professionalism had been something else entirely.

“What? How? Where did you learn to do that!?” he asked his tone a mixture of awe and disbelief.

You smirked, just a hint of amusement in your eyes. “Like I said, size isn’t everything.”

For the first time, Carlos felt embarrassed for having underestimated you.

“Right. Point taken." He admitted defeat. "You’re a badass.”

You raised an eyebrow, surprised at the sudden compliment. And for the first time, Carlos thought he detected a small blush. “Glad you finally noticed.”

The adrenaline still buzzed in his veins, and he couldn’t help but grin. “You know, you could’ve just told me you were basically superwoman. Would’ve saved me the embarrassment.”

You smirked slightly. “Where’s the fun in that?”

From that moment on, the dynamic shifted. Carlos no longer saw you as just a bodyguard. There was something about the way you carried yourself, that quiet confidence, that intrigued him. And despite the seriousness of your job, there was an undeniable spark between you—an unspoken flirtation that neither could quite ignore.

As you headed back to the hotel, Carlos couldn’t resist teasing you.

“So, you’re not just my bodyguard, you’re my personal guardian angel?”

You side-eyed him. “Don’t push it.”

He chuckled, leaning in closer as you walked.

“I’m just saying, if I ever end up in a fight, I know who I’m hiding behind.” his hand grazed yours.

You scoffed a laugh. “You’re welcome to try.”

There was a comfortable silence as you reached the elevator. Carlos pressed the button for his floor, stealing a glance at you.

“You know, I’ve gotta admit, I didn’t expect this. You’re full of surprises.” He leaned back onto the wall this time shamelessly scanning YOU.

“That’s part of the job.” you shrugged.

“Well, I’m looking forward to seeing what other surprises you’ve got up your sleeve.” his eyes dropped down your body once again.

For the first time, you allowed yourself a small, genuine smile. It was beautiful. “Just don’t get any ideas, Sainz.”

Carlos laughed, his heart skipping a beat at the reaction he caused. “Too late for that.”

You shook your head playfully rolling your eyes.

As you stepped out into the hallway, the air between you was charged with something new—something electric. Carlos realized that this partnership was going to be far more interesting than he’d ever imagined.

You might have been assigned to protect him, but there was no denying that the job had become deeper than intended.

In a world where speed and danger were part of everyday life, Carlos had found something, or rather someone, who could keep up with him. And maybe, you'd be the one to finally slow him down.

[hyunjins-orange-slice-too]

Hi can I request first time with chan with shy reader? 🥺👉🏼👈🏼

i’ll help you through it, yeah?

pairing: chan x virgin reader

genre: smut, fluff, friends to lovers

word count: ~2.6k

warnings: mutual pining, pet names, protected sex, praise.

authors note: i have this request in my inbox for other members as well, so look out for those in the future. i have so many requests (tysm btw) so it’s taking me a little while to get through them. i’m trying to do the oldest ones first because y’all been waiting so long. - not me blushing while writing this. i wish my first time was this sweet. lol

masterlist

"i’m just sick of it, ya know?" you complained. "i’m sick of feeling like this. like im unwanted and missing out on something."

your best friend looked at you, intently listening, but worry starting to mar his features. "are people being mean to you because you’re a virgin?" you could sense the anger threatening to rise up out of him at the thought of someone being mean to you.

"no. this is just pressure i’m putting on myself at this point. im too old to still be a virgin."

"i don’t think that’s true." chris said. "i thought you were saving yourself for someone you really loved? wasn’t that the point?"

he was right, you had always said that since you and chris were kids. you didn’t want your first time to be some fleeting, gross experience. you wanted it to be sweet and full of love. but, it didn’t seem like that was working out and you were tired of waiting.

"yeah well i don’t think that’s going to happen." you said, your voice soft, almost sad. "the person i love doesn’t love me, so im just going to have to give up on that." you chuckled sadly, the sound almost a scoff.

"i understand that. im in the same situation." he confided. "but i haven’t given up. i don’t think you should either."

you looked over at him, the space between you both on the couch was small. you could feel the warmth radiating off of him. that’s just how chris is. he’s warm. he’s warm and he’s safe and.. how could you not be in love with him? your heart longed for him to be the one to take your virginity. your heart ached with the thought of it.

he looked back at you with his big brown eyes, his curly hair tickling his eyelashes. and he thought you were the most beautiful person he had ever seen. why couldn’t you just see how in love with you he is? he hated himself for not being able to confess to you. for not being able to just come clean and tell you how you are the center of his universe. but he was scared. to have you as his best friend and to long for you but never have you was better than telling you and losing you all together. but maybe.. he could try to help you with your current problem? see how things went and then he could decide from there what he would do.

"i could maybe.. help you." chris said shyly, rubbing his sweaty palms together in his lap.

you were shocked. "help me? with this?" why would he offer to help you unless he also wanted to? you felt a small bit of hope bloom in your chest.

"only if you want to." he said quickly. "i’m not trying to push myself on you. i’m just trying to help. we don’t have to."

you thought about it for a moment, your body screaming at you to say yes. but your mind was telling you everything that could go wrong. what if he hated it? found you gross and laughed at your inexperience? you brushed those thoughts off. you and chris has been friends for over fifteen years. he would never do something like that to you. he was kind.

"i would be okay with that.." you said. "but it might not be very good."

"i’ll help you through it, yeah?"

you loved him. god you loved him. this was the right decision,you knew that.

he scooted closer to you on the couch, your thighs pressed against each other. he touched your face, turning you to look at him. he looked in your eyes before saying "if you want to stop, just tell me,okay? i won’t be mad." you nodded as he looked down at your lips. and ever so slowly, not wanting to overwhelm you or scare you, he leaned it. his pillow soft lips made contact with yours and you were done for. he moved his lips against yours, his hand moving to cradle the back of your head. your hands found their way around his neck, tangling in his curls.

this felt so right, but your stomach churned with worry. your body was still tense.

"sweetheart, relax." he whispered against your lips. "you know me." he kissed you again, his tongue grazing your bottom lip. you felt embarrassed. kissing chris felt like the first time you had ever kissed anyone,even though that wasn’t the case.he had you so flustered, your lips weren’t listening to your brain’s commands. you opened your mouth and let his tongue in. he tasted sweet.

he pulled away, admiring your flushed cheeks. "do you want to move to your bedroom?" he asked. you nodded, and he stood, offering you his hand. he led you though your apartment and to your bedroom, knowing the way by heart. standing at the edge of your bed, he pulled you close. he kissed you again, his hands finding their way under your shirt, tickling the skin of your tummy.

"can we take this off?"

your hesitation made him pull away, studying your face for any signs of wanting to stop. "would it help if i took mine off first?" you nodded again, thankful for his suggestion. "you want to help me?"

you grabbed the hem of his black shirt and pulled it up and over his head, discarding it on the floor. you looked at him, at his body. you had seen him shirtless multiple times over the years. summers spent together swimming and early mornings at his apartment after late night study sessions, but this was different. his chest was bare because he wanted you to see it. and that made your skin hot.

"now you.." he said, reaching for your shirt slowly, giving you time to protest. but you didn’t. you let him pull your shirt off, leaving you standing in front of him in your jeans and lacy black bra. his eyes grew wide, his breath catching in his throat. could he do this? you were so beautiful and he hadn’t even seen all of you yet. you were starting to squirm under his stare. his hands were warm and soft as they grazed over your skin, his arms wrapping around your waist as he moved to kiss you again. his fingertips danced up your back, until they unclasped your bra and it fell to the floor. he continued kissing you, not looking at your bare chest right away, giving you time to get used to being bare in his presence. you nipples brushed against his chest, growing harder. arousal pooling between your legs as his kisses moved to your jaw and then your neck.

he took his time with you, slowly placing wet kisses on your skin as he guided you to the bed. he laid you down gently, his body hovering above you. he kissed down to your collarbones, across your chest and down to between your breasts. he looked up at you, his lips still pressed to your skin. your cheeks were red, your mouth slightly open as you tried to draw in breath. he saw no signs of stopping in your eyes. no , they begged him to continue. his lips closed around one of your nipples, his tongue gently caressing the nub. his hand gripped your waist as he sucked on your nipple, your hands balled into fists at your sides.

"you can touch me if you want to, baby." he said, his breath blowing cold against the wet skin of your breast. "don’t hold back."

he kissed his way across to your other nipple as you brought your hands to his hair. he started to move lower, until his lips were against your belly button, and even lower still until his tongue was running along the top of your jeans. "can i take these off?" he asked, fingers grazing over the button and zipper. with your approval, he carefully unbuttoned them and slid them down your legs, revealing your panties that matched your bra. he looked up at you, his face only inches from your center. "you’re so wet, baby." he said. "i can see a little wet patch on your panties."

your face flushed and you turned your head, hiding your embarrassment in your pillow.

"hey.. hey.." he said, his hand finding yours, tangling your fingers together. "don’t hide, baby. let me see your pretty face." you did your best to look at him, trying not to focus on your insecurities, but trying to focus on him instead. you squeezed his hand, his kind brown eyes showing nothing but love. he kissed your hip, and across your skin until he was placing a gentle kiss on your clothed clit. you jerked slightly. "is that the spot baby?" you nodded, biting your lip.

he pulled away, standing up. he chuckled at your pout, your little whines of protest. "just let me take these off." he unbuttoned his jeans, and kicked them to the side. he was only wearing his underwear now, his erection causing the material to stretch uncomfortably. he admired your body from this angle. your arms wrapped around your middle, your legs bending, trying to cover yourself. "don’t." he said, grabbing one of your wrists in each hand and holding your arms out. "let me look at you, baby. god, you are so beautiful."

his hands found their way back to your breasts,squeezing slightly before his fingertips grazed down your skin to the elastic of your panties. he hooked his fingers around them. "can i take these off? can i see your little pussy?" you lifted your hips in answer, helping him slide them off. you were completely naked in front of him now but you didn’t have time to be self conscious about it. his lips were already back on your skin,kissing everywhere he could reach. "fuck you’re so pretty." he mumbled against your tummy. "been dreaming about this."

what did he mean by that? you wondered.

"can i see you too?" you asked, your voice sounding so loud to your own ears, having been silent for so long. but you were starting to feel more comfortable. he made you feel so safe.

"of course you can." he said, straightening again to take his briefs off. and now you got to admire him for a moment. the hard muscles of his chest and abdomen leading down to his hard and leaking erection. the first thing you thought was that he was big. but honestly, you didn’t really have much to compare it to.. so what did you know? "don’t worry baby. we’ll go slow." he said, sensing your hesitation.

he leaned down to kiss your lips once again, his fingers making contact with your wetness. he rubbed soft circles on your clit. you grabbed onto his shoulders, your small whimpers falling into his mouth.

"does that feel good?" he asked.

"yes.." you breathed. "so good."

his fingers traveled down through your folds and teased your entrance. "i’ve got to prepare you a little bit, okay? like this.." and he slid one finger inside of you slowly, pumping in and out. you had done this to yourself before but this was completely different. you had never felt like this before. "there you go, baby." once he felt you had gotten used to the first finger, he added a second. he moved them in and out slowly, his thumb rubbing softly on your clit. you could feel your orgasm building. you were embarrassed by how quickly it had come. but you had been waiting so long for him to touch you like this, you couldn’t help it. he could feel you fluttering around his fingers. "are you going to cum?" he whispered against your neck, his lips pressing soft kisses, his teeth nibbling.

"yes.. yes fuck." you panted.

"go ahead, baby. let go."

and you did, you clamped down on his fingers, his name falling from your lips as your body shook.

he had been fantasizing about you moaning his name like that for so long now that it took everything in him not to bust right then. he took a deep breath, pulling his fingers out of you. you watched as he brought them to his mouth and licked them clean, your pussy dripping and pulsing, begging for more. he leaned over the side of the bed and fished a condom out of his pants pocket.

"are you ready?" he asked, holding the condom up.

"yes please." you said, breathless.

"ooh so polite." he teased, giggling as he tore the foil pack open. you watched as he pumped himself a few times, precum leaking from his swollen tip, before sliding the condom down his length. he leaned down and cupped your face, kissing you softly. "remember, we can stop at any time. just tell me. okay?"

"i don’t want to stop." you said, desperate. "please don’t stop."

he smiled. "i won’t unless you tell me to." he knelt in front of you, his hands on your knees, spreading your legs. he lined himself up with your entrance before slowly pushing the tip in. you gasped and his head fell back, his mouth open. he slowly inched his way inside, giving you time to adjust. you whined under him, your eyes squeezing shut at the stretch. "i know, baby. i know." he said. "you’re doing so good." once you felt his thighs on the back of yours, he stilled. letting you properly adjust to his size. he could feel you pulsing around him, his cock begging to cum. "i’m gonna move now, okay?"

you nodded frantically. "yes. yes please, please."

he slowly pulled out and pushed back in, his pace increasing with each thrust. he wasn’t going to last much longer. he knew that. "fuck— baby you feel so g—good." he stuttered. his hands were digging into your hips as he pumped into you. his mouth open, his eyebrows scrunched together, his hair sticking to his forehead. "are you doing okay?"

"fuck yes.." you gasped. "gonna— gonna cum."

he could feel you squeezing around him. he fell down on to his elbows, his arms caging your head, his panting breath in your ear. he continued pumping in and out of you, the wet sounds filling the room. "cum with m-me baby." he said. "fuck- fuck-"

you squeezed him tighter as your orgasm washed over you, you vision going dark. his thrusts got sloppy and then stopped all together as he spilled into the condom. he collapsed next to you, his panting matching your own. he lazily kissed your jaw and your shoulder. "i love you.." he said.

you froze.

"shit- sorry." he said. "i- i didn’t mean to ruin the moment.. it slipped out."

you turned to face him, his brown eyes looking worried. "i love you too.."

his hand caressed your cheek, his thumb rubbing softly back and forth. "really? you’re not just saying that because your overcome with emotion right now?"

you shook your head no. "i’ve been in love with you for a while now.." you confessed.

he chuckled. "i’ve been in love with you for a while. guess we were both too scared to say anything."

you nodded, feeling blissfully happy. you nuzzled into his chest, wrapping your arms around his waist.

"are you okay?" he asked. "was that.. okay?"

"i feel amazing." you said, your voice muffled by his chest. "i’m glad i waited for someone i truly love."

"gahh my heart." he said, squeezing you tighter,

[aurumalatus]

𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐌𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐘

pairing. kinich x fem!reader

word count. 1.6k

genre/warnings. pixelprincess!au (princess!reader x knight!kinich), graphic depictions of violence/terrorism

summary.

when the abyssal army attacks the kingdom, you and kinich end up trapped in the chaos. battered and broken and pushed to his limits, kinich gives everything he has to protect you.

author's note. a more serious drabble between the two, a huge contrast to the first one LOL. this one touches a bit on kinich's lore on this universe (i.e. having dragon powers), and a lot of semi-romantic commitment to each other <3 i hope you enjoy, reblogs/interaction highly appreciated!

𝐩𝐢𝐱𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬!𝐚𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Your ears are ringing.

It had been sunset moments ago, you think. Your father had been delivering a speech to the people in the Capital square to celebrate your latest victory over the Abyssal army. Something had flashed in the distance, and suddenly, Kinich was saying something you couldn’t hear, running and leaping at you and tackling you to the ground, and—

What’s going on?

There’s a puff of breath hot against your neck. Your eyes open, and you flinch hard when Kinich is staring directly at you, multicolored irises boring into your own. He’s so close that your noses are brushing, that you’re sharing air.

What’s going on?

He groans, pushing the ruins of the building off his back—off of you. Your eyes sting from the smoke pooling in the sky. The distinct scent of ash and burning flesh permeates the air, and you nearly vomit from the stench.

“Kinich?” you breathe out.

What’s going on?

He hisses in a breath, hoisting the greatsword from his back—it flashes gold in the dying light. Taking a cursory glance around, he pushes himself to his knees.

“Listen. You’re going to stand up,” he commands, somehow calm, “and we’re going to run. Wait for my count.”

What’s going on?

You give him a once-over. He’s already injured, covered in fresh bruises and wounds. Your fingers twitch toward the growing patch of crimson over his stomach. “You’re bleeding—”

“Princess,” Kinich interrupts. There’s not a whisper of mirth in his tone, not like usual—this is the Captain of the Guard that you hear of so rarely. “Did you hear me? You’re going to stand up—”

Another blast rocks the ground, and you wince as dirt and gravel spray across your face. Kinich takes the brunt of it, shielding you with his body, and he coughs when a particularly large piece of debris slices across his back. The smoke grows thicker, you realize; you can see it coalescing above his head, snuffing out the sun.

What’s going on?

Your breathing comes in quick, but it doesn’t come out—in fact, you realize you can’t breathe at all. Your heartbeat quickens, pounding against your chest. You’re panicking.

Kinich glances over his shoulder at the carnage, then quietly curses; it’s probably much worse than you can see. You wonder if the citizens have already safely evacuated. You wonder about the king and queen—you hadn’t seen where they’d gone when Kinich first tackled you down.

What’s going on?

“My parents…where are they?” you choke out in a gasp. He attempts to pull you up, but you resist in your panic. “Kinich, wait—we have to find them. My parents, we have to—”

“Listen to me!”

A roar bursts from Kinich’s chest—it’s nothing compared to the cacophony that pierces the air, but it’s unfamiliar coming from someone like him. It shocks you into wide-eyed silence, and he takes you by the shoulders, touch contrastingly gentle. His gaze is hard, bypassing all your confusion and piercing right into your soul.

“You are my only priority right now.” Something explodes in the distance—he winces at the sound, tucking one hand under your neck and pulling you closer to his chest, protected. His voice echoes again, right at your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “I can fight, and I can kill, and I can die, but you are going to make it out of here alive. That is what matters to me. I will do anything to keep you safe. So please stand up.”

No matter how much Kinich annoys you on a daily basis, deep down you know you need someone like him—someone who doesn’t care much to sugarcoat things for you, someone who rarely bothers with formalities, someone who overlooks your title in favor of you. His words are the gravity bringing you back to earth, and you only nod in reply.

He nods back, relieved. “Good. Don’t be afraid. I’m with you.”

Carefully, he loops your arms around his shoulders, and on his count, you heave yourself upwards. It hurts—you scream as it happens, every single one of your muscles and bones aching in protest. Kinich’s jaw sets tightly, teeth grinding together so hard you can practically hear it.

“I know it hurts, Princess,” he murmurs. Your combined weight is too much; he stabs his sword into the ground, using it as a cane to pull you forward. “Stay with me here.”

Every step is laborious. Battle still rages on around you, and it’s difficult to navigate the ruins in your state. The smoke grows thicker—Kinich tears a piece off his tattered cape, commanding you to hold it over your mouth and nose. For himself, he pulls down his headband, letting it mask the bottom half of his face. His hair is longer than you remember, bangs falling messily over his forehead. It’s a useless detail, but it’s all you can focus on in the havoc.

“You still with me?”

Kinich’s hand falls over yours, squeezing it once—a comfort. You squeeze back, trying to hold back the tears pricking at your eyes.

“I’m still here.”

Your voice cracks.

The sound of Abyssal beasts echoes, and your heartbeat quickens—you’ll be defenseless if they catch you. Normally, it wouldn’t be a problem with Kinich by your side, but he’s more injured than he lets on. He grunts in pain with each step, a sheen of sweat coating his forehead from the exertion.

The more you move, the less everything makes sense. You can’t tell up from down or left from right. All you can hear is screams and moans of pain and the roars of monsters. One of them sounds from your immediate right—Kinich curses, and you sense something coming closer.

“We’ll have to fight,” he says hurriedly, scrambling to find somewhere to put you down.

Kinich always carries a dagger at his thigh, ever prepared in case he loses his sword, and he unsheathes it as he sets you on the ground. He presses the handle of it into your hand—your ribbon is still tied around the grip, a token of good luck, proof of your wish for his safety. 

“If I fall, or the Abyss corrupts me, use this. Don’t forget what I taught you.”

“Kinich—”

“Promise me.”

His eyes say it all—he’s desperate, curling your fingers under his own so that you properly hold the blade, willing his remaining strength into you. Your grip tightens on the dagger, and you nod weakly. Kinich’s body sags in relief.

“May the Abyss take my soul if I ever abandon you,” he whispers, quoting his oath. It almost makes you nostalgic. You remember the ceremony well—he’d exuded a quiet strength even back then. “May my skin tear from bone if you ever suffer.”

It feels like a goodbye.

For the first time in the mess, you take a good look at his face, at the state of him. His left eye is swelling shut quickly. You thumb over the purpling skin, a single tear sliding down your cheek at the sheer damage. He’s already lost so much blood, a crimson flower blooming across his stomach. His armor is dirty and dinged with scratches, even burned away in certain places. You’re not sure how he’s still even moving.

You’ve always held a deep faith in Kinich’s abilities. He’s been the calm in the storms of your life until now, every assassination attempt, every obstacle, every misstep. You know it’s due to your own hesitation that he’d gotten this hurt, and it scares you—after all, he’s still mortal just like you. In his current state, he stands no chance against the army of Abyss monsters around you.

Your hand drags down to his cheek. “Kinich, leave me.”

He pulls away from your touch, gaze flashing with anger. “No.”

Your jaw tightens. “Kinich, that’s an order.”

He rises to his feet, unsteady, his greatsword lifted weakly at his side. The monsters are coming, drawing out of the darkness. “And I refuse it.”

His steps are unnaturally heavy as he staggers forward, cutting down one of the beasts. He fights with grace, even now, not a single movement wasted in his battle. You wish you’d asked him to teach you more—you can’t even move, but your mind screams at you to help him.

One of the monsters catches him in the back, and he roars out in pain before turning and stabbing it through the neck. He’s still fighting, but the fire within him is burning out quickly, and you can sense it. A patch of pixel-like scales flashes over his neck, a power bubbling just beneath the surface, but he can’t seem to draw it out fully—he’s too weak, too tired.

You push yourself up on your arms, trying to crawl toward him. Your throat is raw from the smoke and ash, but still you find the strength to scream.

“I am the princess of Natlan! You are bound by your duty to carry out my orders—”

He turns to you, pulling his headband off his face, and you gasp in a breath—his skin is painted in hues of green and gold, lines of tattoos criss-crossing his arms and legs, cutting across his features. He’s glowing so brightly that it burns the smoke away, until all you can see is your knight standing before you, defiant. His eyes meet yours, and despite the power that pours out of him, his expression is pleading.

“Fire me then, Princess. Exile me. Have me executed for disobeying you. Do whatever you want to me when this is all over, but for now, they’ll have to cut me down before they take another step toward you.”

Three more Abyssal monsters approach, claws flashing, and you scream as Kinich turns back to face them. They lunge before he can react, millimeters from cutting into his skin, and then—

A pulse vibrates under your feet just as a white-hot light explodes in front of you, burning into your eyes. You can’t tell who’s yelling—maybe it’s you, or maybe it’s Kinich, but it makes your eardrums ring and sting. You reach out desperately but find nothing.

Everything goes dark.

[dixons-sunshine]

So Beautiful | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: Daryl had never fully shown you his scars before. He was too afraid of what you might think of him if he did. However, after being together for a while, he decided to finally bite the bullet and show you what he had kept hidden from your view for so long.

Genre: Mostly fluff, some angst if you squint.

Era: Prison, pre season four, post season three.

Warnings: Swearing, Daryl is insecure in this (I wanna hold him and reassure him that everything is okay), mentions of past abuse.

Word count: 1.5k.

A/N: This was meant to be a drabble, but it ran away from me lol. I hope y’all like this!

Daryl was breathing heavily. His chest was rising and falling quickly as he tried to control his breathing and ease his anxiety. It wasn’t the first time someone had seen his scars, he tried to remind himself. Carol had seen them. Merle had seen them. Hershel had seen them. It wasn’t like nobody knew of them, but he knew that this time was different.

This wasn’t some random person that had to patch up some injury he had sustained. This was you. His partner. The one he cared for deeply, on a whole other level than he did others, on a level that the archer was sure was love. The one he could see himself spending the rest of his life with, however short that might be. That made you different from the rest. You were so vastly different.

Talks of the abuse the archer had endured had come up from time to time, but only on Daryl’s terms. You never pressed to hear more about his childhood, knowing that Daryl would tell you on his own time if he wanted you to know. And sure enough, slowly but surely, over the months the two of you had been together ‘officially’, Daryl had slowly started opening up to you. However, he had never shown you the scars on his back before. He had allowed you to patch up a wound on his chest before, and that had been the most you had gotten to physically see of the cruel pain that had been inflicted on him in his life.

Until now.

The scars on Daryl’s back were on full display for your eyes to see as he sat on the edge of the bed in your shared cell with him. With his back turned to you, he didn’t have to witness the reaction you would give him. He feared a disgusted reaction, a sharp intake of breath as you fully gouged the extent of the pain he had endured that were gruesomely carved into his skin, a permanent, cruel reminder of his father’s abuse. He feared that you would shrink away from him, that you would see him like the worthless piece of garbage most people in his life had viewed him as, like he viewed himself as most times. And the worst part was that he wouldn’t even blame you if you did.

However, he had not expected to hear your voice calling out to him, that usual softness and love he always associated with your beautiful voice as present as ever.

“Is it okay if I touch them?” you asked him softly, your tone of voice gentle and sincere. You weren’t pressing, weren’t insisting on touching them. You were simply asking, and you would be completely okay with it if he said no.

Daryl did not turn his head to look at you, too nervous to do so just yet. However, after a few beats of silence and contemplation, Daryl hesitantly nodded his head. He anxiously awaited the soft touch of your fingers, but they never came. Instead, Daryl felt a soft, tender prodding from something soft against the highest scar on his back, a slight wetness being left in its wake. As the prodding slowly trailed down the scar and onto the next one, he quickly figured out that the soft prodding was caused by your slightly chapped lips.

Daryl sighed quietly at the oddly comforting feeling, an involuntary shiver rolling over his spine. He closed his eyes, relishing in the comfort your actions were bringing him. Slowly but surely, as your kisses trailed over each scar on his back, his initial uneasiness started fading away, instead being replaced by a sense of contentment and love, all thanks to you.

As you placed a final kiss to the lowest scar on his back, you raised up from the bed and moved to stand in front of him. Daryl ducked his gaze down to the floor beneath him, suddenly feeling nervous all over again, but you didn’t allow him to do so. You gingerly took a hold of his chin with your forefinger and thumb, and you gently tipped his head up, making him look at you.

Looking deeply into the eyes of the man you loved most, you sent him a small, soft, reassuring smile. “You’re so beautiful, Dar.”

Daryl scoffed at your words. “Ain’t beautiful,” he denied your statement. However, he couldn’t help the way his heart fluttered at your words. He had never been called beautiful before. He had always considered it to be a feminine compliment, a compliment reserved only for women, a compliment he reserved only for you. So why his heart started beating faster and his cheeks started burning at your compliment, he didn’t know.

You laughed softly at his denial, shaking your head as if he had said the most absurd thing humanly possible. And to you, he had. It broke your heart that the man in front of you could not see himself the way you saw him: loyal, fierce, kind, unendingly fucking beautiful. There were so many other things that could describe the archer, and almost none of them were negative. Sure, everyone had their flaws, and there was no denying that Daryl had his flaws as well, but they were part of what made him Daryl. They made him the man you loved, and there was little that you wanted to change about him.

Except the way he isolated himself when it mattered most to talk to people, and the way he viewed himself, but other than that, he was perfect.

“Well, you’re beautiful to me, Dar,” you told him, your hand moving from under his chin to cup his cheeks instead. You rubbed soothing circles over the stubbled skin of his face with your thumb, your eyes looking deeply into the ocean-coloured ones of your partner. “And correct me if I’m wrong, but don’t they say that beauty is in the eye of the beholder? Well, I’m the beholder, and this beholder is telling you that you’re fucking gorgeous.”

Your other hand came up to his chest, your fingers gingerly tracing over one of the jagged marks on his broad frame. “These don’t take away from the way I see you, Dar. If anything, it makes my view of you even better. All this shows me is that life threw you a lot of fucking curve balls before all of this, and you prevailed. Do you know how strong that makes you? How brave?” You shook your head with a huff of laughter, the sound one of wonder. “God, I can’t even begin to explain how much these don’t deter me at all. They’re relics of a time in your life you overcame, a time in your life I see you trying not to let define your present and future. If that’s not the epitome of strength, I don’t know what is.”

Daryl was rendered absolutely speechless. You truly believed that of him? All of that? You couldn’t, could you? Unwillingly, a lump formed in the archer’s throat. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He couldn’t believe that you thought so highly of him, even after he showed you what he considered the ugliest part of him, physically speaking. However, his heart swelled at the knowledge that you did not view him any differently than you had before. You still looked at him with such love, a love he oftentimes felt he didn’t deserve, but he definitely was not about to throw it away, either.

“Thanks,” Daryl mumbled awkwardly at your high praise of him. He did not know what else to say. He wanted to say so many things to show how much he appreciated your words, how much he appreciated you, but he just did not know how.

You smiled at the singular word that left your partner’s mouth. It was so simple, so underwhelming, so undeniably Daryl. To most people, that simple response would be a punch to the gut after such a heartfelt confession, but to you, the response was enough. Daryl was a man of action, not a man of words. He showed his appreciation to your declaration in the form of his hands coming to rest and your hips, slightly tugging you forward to stand closer to him, albeit in-between his legs. He also showed it in the way his eyes sparkled up at you, the emotions swirling around in his beautiful irises conveying more than words ever could.

“Of course,” you replied softly to his thanks, your hand trailing up from his bare chest, up his face and to his hair. Your fingers ran through his brown locks, gently untangling any knots in their wake. “You have no idea how amazing you are to me, Daryl Dixon, but I promise, for as long as you’ll have me, I’ll never stop trying to show you.”

Daryl’s heart both sped up and stopped simultaneously. Your admission made the archer want to cling on to you and never let you go. He had wanted something, someone like that his whole life. Someone who could look past everything and still love him unconditionally. And he had found it. He had found you, and he certainly did not intend to ever let you slip through his fingers.

“Guess yer gon’ be stuck with me forever, then,” Daryl said in his gruff tone of voice, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

A small chuckle escaped your chest. “I really don’t mind the sound of that.”

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hi, I just wanted to ask: If you end up writing something for the monsterfalls au do you think you could do something where reader helps to groom Ford or Stan's newly acquired wings and them just loving the attention and care they give them? Also, love your stories and thanks if you decide to do this.

Stan, while thinking his new appearance was great for scaring kids on Summerween, hated his stone wings that weighed like a pair of cinder blocks.

They made sleeping difficult! How do you make sleeping difficult?! Apparently becoming a stone gargoyle.

That wasn’t even the worst thing either. Ford told him once after he complained about how his wings felt itched and irritated, almost like an itch he couldn’t scratch, that his wings needed constant preening whenever necessary as to avoid such situations from happening.

However Stan couldn’t exactly reach everywhere that needed preening and grew annoyed but his saviour arrived in the form of you.

‘Doll face! Just the person I’m looking for, would you mind helping me with my wings? They’ve been a pain in my ass this entire morning and I could really use some help in getting to the spots I can’t reach.’ He says as you examined his wings, strong and durable just like him, but oddly enough were soft like clay underneath; also just like him

‘I’d be happy to help Stanley but why me? You could’ve asked the kids or even Ford to help preen.’ You asked and Stan stiffened as he remembered the fact that Ford told him about preening; it was a mating thing to display the bond between mates amongst other reasons, which was mainly why he wanted you to preen his wings for him.

Stan scratched the back of his head. ‘Eh, none of them are in the house, doing their own thing or whether and even if they were they’d probably pull out the wrong feather.’ He quickly explains himself, hoping you’d buy it.

‘Okay, why don’t you lay down on your stomach and I’ll get to work.’ You replied after a brief moment of silence and Stanley sighed in relief as he was quick to flop on his bed, displaying his beautiful wings for you to gawk at.

Ford maybe a sphinx with pretty wings but you found Stanley’s wings even prettier, they looked as though they have priceless minerals within them, glistening beneath the light. They were a beauty to behold for those who actually cared to look at them and it never failed to take your breath away. ‘Beautiful.’ You murmured to yourself as you began to gently pull out the loose stone feathers that weighted like a pebble within your hand.

Stan felt like he could’ve fallen asleep then and there with how therapeutic he felt, he could feel his wings getting lighter with each loose feather you pulled, growling lowly in content as he closed his eyes and focused his mind on the way your hands carefully navigated his sturdy wings. He could’ve told you to be a bit rougher as they were like ordinary wings, but he throughly liked the way you treated them like they were glass and the way you run your fingertips in appreciation of them while counting the minerals within them, thinking he wouldn’t notice but he did and he couldn’t help but smile softly to himself.

He could happily stay like this forever if he could but he knew he couldn’t, so Stanley will take whatever time with you he could and keep it close to his heart to remind himself that someone does care about him and his stupid stone wings.

Ford took immense care of his wings but he often forgets that he has them when he’s deep in thought, which leads to him knocking stuff over, smacking Stanley, you or the kids accidentally with them and so on.

His wings were beautiful, majestic and fluffy, unlike Stanley’s which were the colour of gunmetal or cold stone or even gravel.

So whenever he forgets that his wings needed preening, he won’t know until you point it out to him, which is what you did.

‘Ford, did you forget to preen your wings?’ You asked as Ford looks over his shoulder and at his wings, where he could obviously see there was a few feathers that needed to be removed.

‘Ah so that’s why I’ve been in such discomfort as of recently, thank you my beloved for pointing it out. I shall preen them as soon as I’m done here.’ Ford replied but you pressed your hand onto his shoulder.

‘Why don’t you let me preen your wings for you?’

Ford blushed, he has read somewhere that pressing one’s wings was a thing only done between mates, or even that of a courting ritual amongst some bird species, but not only that but preening one’s wings was also seen as a means of survival and self care of one’s being. So the thought of the of you doing his wings for him had a whole lot more meaning to him as he would very much like you to preen his wings, but feared that he might make some…noises of enjoyment from your actions.

You saw his hesitance and said. ‘I’ll be gentle but then again it is all up to you as they are your wings, that and I don’t want to see you in discomfort or pain.’

Ford’s features softened as the blush died down. ‘Okay my dear I trust you with my wings.’

You smile as you sat yourself behind him and began to get to work in easing the loose feathers as carefully as you could, making sure you weren’t using more forced them necessary while praising Ford and his beautiful wings. ‘Your wings are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen, but then again they only reflect the person blessed with such wings.’ You then sweetly kissed where his wings connect to his back, a sensitive spot for Ford, causing the man to take a sharp breath as you do so before relaxing once more.

He was a little tense to start off with but gradually Ford felt himself melt under your carful touch and caresses as he purrs low in the back of his throat, tail slowly swishing in a display of his happiness and content regarding the current situation. He knew from that moment as you placed the loose feathers into a neat pile by your feet that he didn’t want anyone else to preen his wings but you.

Then again he was never in dispute with this idea of you preening his wings, he was just a bit awkward and unsure how to ask such a task of you without it coming across too strong, or that you didn’t have a choice but to agree to preening his wings. He just wanted to spend time with you and it just so happened that his wings were also in a state of disarray when you came in, all of which was completely unplanned and purely coincidental, but Ford couldn’t help but thank fate for this moment for he would treasure it forever and always.

‘You okay Ford? I think you’re…purring.’ You spoke with a smile upon your face when you felt his tail hit against your foot, finding it adorable as the purring coming from him.

‘Yes I’m perfectly fine my dear, perfectly fine.’ Ford reassured with a smile upon his face. ‘Perfectly fine indeed.’

[hedgehog-moss]

hello & good morning/afternoon/night! feel free to ignore this ask if you don't want to or don't know how to answer. i have been following your blog for years now, i think, and i have been accompaning your life through the pictures you post. i always had similar dreams of living in a farm or just in a more "secluded" place in general - hiddem away from big cities, i mean, closest place being a small town or even village, you know - and though i have lived alone for 2 years now i have a lot of fears of living by myself in ambient where there is relatively less people (even if there are neighbors not that far away). yknow, classic fears, of being robbed, my house being broken into, etc etc. once again i know it's a different world and the probability of something like this happening is actually higher in places with a bigger populational number, but have you ever had experiences like this? have you ever felt a similar fear? i'm trying to find out if this is something i really want.

Hi ! I love that I read your message last week right after I fondly reminisced about hearing murder screams in my woods at night. I've been thinking about it and I think regardless of what statistics say, some people feel safer surrounded by people in a town while others feel safer in more secluded places—I mean there's probably a personal temperament aspect to this... I've always loved going out for walks in the middle of the night but I couldn't fully relax doing that in cities, while here I find it so relaxing. It's so dark and quiet it feels like walking at the bottom of the ocean <3 It's the closest I can get to the peaceful life of the sea cucumber. And since I'm alone in this forest and there's no one for several km around I feel like nothing bad can happen to me. But I have city friends who would never consider going for a walk with me in the woods at night.

Can't recommend having a medium-to-large dog enough! Despite his debonair manner Pandolf is a good guard dog—one time that I got to test this was when someone parked their car on the side of the road maybe 300m from my house, and stayed there for almost a week. It wasn't a camper van, just a normal car, and every time I went to see it during the day it was empty, but I saw lights in there at night. I didn't like it at all! Why park here in the middle of nowhere. Near my house. This isn't a convenient spot to fish or anything, so where are you all day...? I remember the night I noticed the light in the car from my window, and I sat in my bed like, okay, someone's over there, but even if he gets to my door I have 2 other ways to get out of the house, my nearest neighbours are like 40min away by foot through the woods, I know my woods better than this guy, I'll be fine.

It's the only time that I recall feeling a bit antsy at night—and Pandolf was very alert as a result, he could tell I was nervous and when I went to close the chicken coop in the evenings he went patrolling all over the place in a way he doesn't usually do. I have a natural talent for not doing anything about problems and hoping they'll go away on their own, but after a few days I eventually told a distant neighbour about this weird car, and he came the next evening to talk to this person—but the car left that same day. And when my neighbour came to tell me he hadn't found the car, it was already dark and he parked his car in front of my house and at first Pandolf refused to let him get out. Even though he knows this neighbour and the guy had half-opened his door and was like "Hey Pandolf it's me!", Pan just stood there growling continuously like Cujo. It was good to see that although he's a really friendly dog, if I'm freaked out he can get quite intimidating.

Other than that one weird car story I've never really felt scared being here alone at night, and I didn't worry about that before moving here either, I was impatient to go on nighttime walks in the woods, rather! But having neighbours I'm on friendly terms with that I can call for help if needed, and whose house I can reach by foot, is reassuring; so I think mostly it's a matter of finding the degree of seclusion you're comfortable with. There are all sorts of gradations between living in a big city and living like the first Desert Father :) Is there any way you could try spending some time alone in a more remote area for temporary stays, like holidays, to see if you get used to it and come to appreciate it, or if you feel safer in more populated places?

[pleasantlycrazyworld]

Logan's girl

Summary: Jessie's girl inspired; Jean has feelings for Logans girl and Logan over hears and gets insecure

Logan woke up to you in his arms and warmth fills him seeing you so peaceful in his arms. He hated that he had to get up, but he managed to move you away from him without waking you and he sneaked out of the room to start making breakfast for the two of you.

When he was heading to the kitchen, he overheard Jean talking to Storm while they were drinking coffee at the table in there. He didn't think anything of it and was about to continue going into the kitchen before he heard his name and your name, when he heard that he froze and started to actually listen to what she was saying.

"Logan is a great teammate, you know he's starting to be a good friend of mine but lately something changed itsn't hard to figure out, he got himself his girl and I-I really want to make her mine..." Jean admitted to Storm her feelings that she's been hiding for a while, and Logan felt his eyes widen.

He heard Storm gasps lightly "Jean you don't mean -" Jean cut her off and continued her ramble. "It's been killing me to see her watching him with those eyes, and she's loving him with that body, I-I just know it! And he's getting to hold her in his arms late at night!! I wish I was with Logan's girl, and you know I just feel so dirty when they start talking cute I wanna tell her that I love her, but the point is probably moot...she really does love him doesn't she?" Jean asked weakly, already knowing what the answer was. Storm felt for her friend, but at the same time, she couldn't believe what she was hearing.

No one has ever seen this side of Logan. Logan was actually in love, he really loved his girl. Anything with eyes could tell that she was the man's soft spot, and he was really starting to soften up with everyone around him, not just her. The two of you had been together for a few months now but in that spam of time Storm could see a change in Logan that she hoped lasted. Storm just hoped Jean didn't do anything stupid and left the couple alone. Hopefully, Logan never found out how the red head felt towards his girl.

Unfortunately, he heard the whole confession. He decided that breakfast was something the two of you could go out for and went back up to the bedroom as quietly as he could. While he was heading back to your shared room he was trying to remain calm and to keep his claws in so you wouldn't be able to tell right away that he was upset about something so early in the morning.

"Baby...princess," he shook you awake. You groaned and tried to ignore him, but after a while, you admitted defeat and just woke up. "Whaaat??? It's so early, bub." You groaned louder, rubbing your eyes. Usually, hearing you call him bub resulted in him giving some sort of snarky comeback reminding you that he isnt your bub he's your handsome man, but today, it just made him drag you out of bed. "We're going to breakfast, thought we'd go to your favorite diner angel." He got the two of you dressed as you leaned against him and practically slept on him.

He had to drag you out of the mansion, he couldn't be in there anymore knowing there was someone else in there who wanted his girl. He didn't want to see Jean or Storm or anyone, and he didn't want you to be around Jean anytime soon. The two of you got to the diner alarmingly fast and as the two of you sat across from each other, you could tell something was bothering him. His jaw was locked, his brows were furrowed, and when the food arrived he was violently stabbing his eggs.

"Lo... my handsome man, what's bothering you, baby?" You asked a bit timidly, your voice was full of concern. You could tell he didn't want to tell you, he was avoiding eye contact but finally the two of you met each other's eyes and he sighed before sitting up straighter. He cleared his throat before telling you what happened, "I overheard... something today. It was um interesting?" He cringed thinking about this morning before he sighed again and continued explaining, "Jean, she said she has, she's been having feelings for my girl." His jaw clenched harder than before, something you thought was impossible and made you worry he would actually break his teeth.

"Your girl? But that's me," you said innocently with a shrug, not connecting the dots. Logan nodded with a look on his face that read, 'Don't make me say it again, please.' "Yeah, my girl princess..." He said again, waiting for it to connect in your head, and when your eyes widened, he knew that everything was connected. "Logan....I..." You didn't know what to say, honestly. You hardly knew Jean. You worked with her a handful of times, and the times you do interact, she does get flirty.

You started to think back on the times she flirted with you in the past and the incidents that may have shown her feelings clearer.

"Did you change your hair? It looks beautiful," she twirled a piece of your hair, "and it's so soft. What shampoo do you use, sweetheart?" --- then there was the time after you made dinner for everyone. She thanked you for your hard work and amazing food, and she graced your arm with her hand softly before walking away. --- or the time where during a movie night you noticed how she sent glares your way while you were cuddled up with Logan on the recliner but you had just assumed she wanted to be in his lap, not wanting to have you in her lap.

You cringed at the realization and you were praying that Logan didn't know about the flirty past few weeks. You knew this would hurt him even if he had nothing to worry about. He didn't know why it bothered him so much, he trusted you, loved you and you loved him but the idea that someone else, someone strong, pretty and younger could love you better than him just ate away at him.

When the two of you got back to the mansion you avoided Jean as the plague, it was clear that the two of you may have overheard that she had growing feelings towards you and she was devastated. She had a strong feeling that even if she didn't confess to you, she still ruined your friendship somehow. It became more clear to her that you two learned about her feelings when later that night she overheard you two moaning each other's names loudly, as if to claim one another to everyone else in the mansion. The next morning she couldn't make eye contact with you, when she did her eyes immediately went to the hickies that covered your neck.

Tagging:

@userchai

@mahi-tamashi

@100percentlazybonez

@lanassmarty

@western-pyro

@misscrissfemmefatale

@marit332

@navs-bhat

@fluffy-b33z

@chaimshelii

@helpyourself-9

[luveline]

could you please write something with bombshell reader and spencer where there is a misunderstanding and she thinks he is cheating on her?? or anything angsty? love your work and just want to tell you how you are the best author in this fandom! besos <333

thanks so much, hope this is okay! fem, 1.2k

You bend forward and breathe. 

Rough breathing. Audibly disjointed, and panicked, and drawing attention. You clasp at the side of the counter in the office kitchen and everyone standing around you goes silent. 

Someone must tell someone who tells someone, because Anderson makes his way to your side soon after. “Y/N, do you need me to get someone?” he asks. 

“Hotch?” you ask. 

“Sure. Do you want to sit down?” 

Your mouth isn’t calibrated to your mind. Your answer takes time. “I’m okay.” 

You blink hard. Your lashes are sticky, mascara wet in the corners and pulling on each other as you force yourself to keep them open. When Hotch collects you, it is with an immense tenderness, and a poorly concealed confusion. “Hey, come on,” he says, guiding you toward the office doors, “let’s find somewhere quieter.” 

You’re three steps down the hallway when you stop. You cover your face with both hands. 

Your entire world just got rocked… you don’t even know how to say it. You can’t stop seeing it, his hand on her shoulder, his head tilted to one side like he always does with you, like he’s going to kiss her cheek. And she’d just let him do it. 

“What happened?” 

“They were kissing.” 

Hotch looks down at you patiently. “Who?” 

“Spencer and JJ.” You swallow down bile. Your voice sounds far away, “They were so close…” 

“Are you sure?” 

“No… Just, it looked like they were. She had her arms around him, he…” 

You blink hard again, but the panic, the agony remains. You could see it, Spencer kissing her, and it just tore you to pieces right then and there. How could he do that to you? The stereotypical you’d always expected to be above races through your head. Weren’t you too much to lose? 

“They were too close,” you say more firmly. 

“Alright,” Hotch says softly. Then, because he’s your friend, even if you’ve thrust him into an awkward position. “I can work this out for you, if you want. I can kill him for you if necessary.” 

“That’s not funny,” you say, because even if it were, it’s way too soon. 

“I’m not joking. If Spencer ever did that to you, I’d… well, I wouldn’t hurt him, but he would lose my respect, and he would lose yours. Do you believe Spencer would put that at risk?” 

“You think I’m overreacting.” 

Hotch gives you a look. Full Hotchner. Understanding, patient, a little humorous. “I honestly can’t imagine a world where Spencer does something that would hurt you, that’s all. I’m not trying to mock you. I’m not saying you can’t be upset.” 

You realise after a few deep breaths that he was trying to drive you from a panic attack, and he did it successfully. You swallow a nervous lump.

“Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome.”

“I think I can kill him.”

“I don’t doubt it. Do you want to?” 

“Depends on what I saw,” you mutter, turning away from the glass office doors as they open. 

“Well… perhaps you can–”

“Hey, what are you guys doing out here?” Spencer interrupts, breathless as he slides around Hotch and takes your arm in his hand. “Angel, I need your help, urgently. JJ’s earring got caught in my hair, I’m pretty sure I’m bald.” 

You squint at him, still a little breathless yourself. 

“Hey, are you okay?” he asks, looking between you and Hotch with regret. “What’s wrong? You look sick.”

“What did JJ do?” you ask. 

“Angel?” 

He squints. When you fail to offer a reason, he tips his head down to show you the top of his head. “Am I bald? She dropped her pencil case and I tried to grab it, and she yanked back. I tried to stop her from ripping it out, but she said I had to stop being a big baby.” 

He laughs. Hotch lets out an audible breath. 

“I’m hideous,” Spencer surmises from your silence. 

“I didn’t really look.” 

Spencer looks at Hotch. “Can you tell me what’s wrong? Please?” 

You send Hotch a look that says please, don’t.  

“I just felt a bit panicked,” you confess, a half truth to spare your dignity.

“I brought her out here for some quiet,” Hotch says. 

Spencer frowns and holds your arm again with more softness. “You did? Are you feeling better now? You know, the sudden onset of panic is often caused by a process called overbreathing, have you felt that happen to you recently? It’s accidental hyperventilation. Low carbon dioxide in the blood.” His frown deepens. “Unless it’s not that. Are you worried about something?” 

You watch as his hand glides further up, his thumb rubbing into the soft fat of your upper arm. 

“Worried about your hairline,” you mumble. 

Look, you’ll tell Spencer eventually, maybe. But for now your head hurts and you really had almost spun yourself into an anxiety attack, and you need the rest, and meeting his eyes isn’t easy. 

If he were lying about the earring, you’d be able to tell. If he’d kissed JJ, the guilt would be pouring off of him. 

“I can trust you to look after her?” Hotch asks. 

“When can’t you?” Spencer asks sincerely. 

Footsteps. A door opening. 

You and Spencer alone, his voice warm with concern. “Are you okay? Really okay?” 

“Can you hug me?” 

“Sure I can.” He slips his arms through yours and pulls you in. “Do you need something? Listening to music can help, I have my headphones on my desk. Or we can just– walk.” His hand spread wide over your shoulder. “You’re shaking.” 

“I am?” 

“Just a little…” 

You try your best to stand completely still. 

“Oh,” he says softly, pulling you with more force toward his chest, “I’m sorry, I had no idea you weren’t feeling okay today. But it’ll be okay, I promise. I got you.” 

It’s not often you feel like the smaller person in your relationship, and he doesn’t make you feel small, but the depth of his promise gives him this bigness that dulls the panic. Spencer… he really wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. You aren’t at fault for thinking they were too close, but there’s an explanation, and for now that’s enough to make you feel better. 

“How much hair did she rip out, sweetheart?” you murmur, leaning back just far to see his face, not wanting to disturb the stable quiet. “Does it hurt?” 

“No, I’m fine. Honestly I’m more worried about you than my hair.” 

“Can I explain it to you later?” 

“You’ll sleep over?” he asks, lips thinning into a smile. 

“Yeah.” 

“We’ll talk about it later,” he says. 

You close your eyes as he cups your face with both hands. Later, when you tell him, he isn’t offended, just sorry. Necessary or not, he apologises and holds you with so much tenderness you’re assured again that Spencer hurting you would only ever be an accident.

[hotvintagepoll]

There's something serious I want to talk about before the contest proper starts. I got a lot of submissions for this contest, and I tried to include a good variety of scrungly little guys. In my head this is a tournament dedicated to the funny, odd, weird character actors, and I'm happy that we have a range of talent here from noir to comedy to horror to drama. With that said—

A few of the submissions walked a line that I felt uncomfortable with, where a physical disability or a facial disfigurement was treated as the only reason to submit someone as scrungly. These submissions made me uncomfortable—the equating of someone outside the able-bodied norm with, by one of my own definitions, a scraggly-looking opossum. It crosses a line for me to frame a person as being odd for simply......existing in a human body. That's not what this tournament is about—this is a tournament about character actors who gave us fun, weird performances, driven by their own acting choices, not an excuse to think someone strange just for the way they exist.

I define scrungle as coming from a person's agency and skill as an actor, an energy and electricity brought by the actor themself, not from an appearance. I will not tolerate any propaganda that focuses on an actor's body in a demeaning or fetishistic context. I also won't tolerate propaganda that gets weird about race or class, comments that focus on a person's look over their performance, etc. etc. And if (against my best intentions) any of the propaganda in a poll post falls into this, I hope you guys will let me know and I'll correct/remove it. Please talk to me if I fuck up.

Some of the people here overcame significant barriers against a society that did not want to see them, making the most of bit parts and sidekick roles by giving warm, funny, weird, and masterful performances. That is a wonderful thing, and a brave thing. Some of these actors never truly got to shine, because Hollywood did not want to see them as more than a stereotype. I want to honor those comedians and character actors anyway for what they did manage to do. This tournament is about highlighting all these scrungly guys for the fun, purposely weird acting they gave us, and I hope we can be considerate in how we talk about their work.

tl;dr Respect for bodily autonomy and diversity of humanity is important in this competition, and it's important to me that we don't conflate "scrungly," ie an intentional performance of weirdness driven by the actor's choices, with "I think they look weird therefore they are weird," which is gross and dehumanizing. Do not do that. I won't tolerate anyone being weird about people who are just being people.

I hope this makes sense and I used the right language! See you guys Thursday :)

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Ace Trappola - Room Relaxation Vignette

"Happy Birthday"

[Exterior Hallway]

Ace: Well, it's gettin' about time. Guess I'll head to basketball practice… Hm? Who's that over there…?

Ace: Yo, Kalim-senpai! How's it going? Hey, hey, do you know what tomorrow is?

Kalim: Tomorrow? Hm, what's going on tomorrow…? Is there a dance competition? Oh, or is there some sort of feast planned?

Ace: Ooh, you're getting' close! The correct answer is… My birthday～!

Kalim: Woah! Tomorrow's your birthday!? That's awesome!!

Ace: Yeah, it's totally awesome! There's gonna be a party back at my dorm, and everyone'll get me a gift. It'll be a blast!

Ace: But, y'know, the crazier the party, the more lonely it feels the day after my birthday…

Ace: I always feel like it'd be great if these sorts of days come around two or three times more a year.

Ace: …Don'tcha think, Kalim-senpai?

Kalim: Oh, yeah, I feel you! It just doesn't feel enough to only have one birthday a year.

Kalim: Hey, I just had a great idea! I'll throw you another party the day after your birthday.

Kalim: That way you won't feel as lonely, right? It sounds super fun, so let me do this for you!

Ace: Ehhhh, you sure!? I'm tickled pink! Kalim-senpai, thanks so much!

Kalim: Yeah! I'll make it the best, most outrageous party you've ever seen, so I hope you look forward to it!

[Kalim leaves]

Ace: Nice, I got Kalim-senpai to celebrate my birthday! And he's making it an outrageously awesome party…

Ace: That might get a veto from Jamil-senpai, though…

Ace: But regardless, I at least secured a promise from Kalim-senpai for a celebration. I can't way for the day after tomorrow～!

[Heartslabyul Dorm – Ace's Room]

Ace: Huuurgh, today's basketball practice was insanely hard… Floyd-senpai just wouldn't quit guarding me!

Ace: Usually he just gets bored and disappears off to who knows where… Ugh, I'm so tired～ I just wanna pass out…

Ace: My roommates sure got it easy. Doesn't sound like they got any upperclassmen that cause problems or nag all the time…

Ace: …Augh, I'm definitely gonna fall asleep if I just keep zoning out. I'm gonna go jump in the shower.

[Heartslabyul Dorm – Ace's Room]

[roommates chatting]

[Roommate A greets Ace]

Ace: I'm baaack. Why did I take so long…? Y'see, Trey-senpai cornered me while I was brushing my teeth in the washroom.

Ace: He made me re-brush my teeth, and then handed me some floss and mouthwash. Then…

「Survey on Quality of Life Improvements for the Student Body」

Ace: Right, so he handed me this survey to fill out too. Ugh, it's short answers! Better if it was multiple choice or something.

Ace: Hey, can't any of you guys fill this out for me? I'm real tired from practice today, 'cause it was reeeal hard.

[Deuce refuses]

Ace: …Do it myself without tryin' to slack off? Fine, fine, guess that's what I shoulda expected from you honor student types. You're takin' it waaay too seriously!

Ace: Maybe I'll just jot down that it sucks to be stuck in a room with guys I don't vibe with, or something.

[Deuce argues]

Ace: …Oh, shut up, I was just kidding. Whatever, I guess I'll just start filling in the form.

Ace: First off… The dorm rooms are way too small! That's the worst thing, so I definitely can't leave that out.

Ace: Sure, we can ask each other to swap dorm duties, or help each other when we can't remember a specific Queen of Hearts' rule…

Ace: So I guess it's not the end of the world that there's four of us in here. But it'd be better if the room was just a bit bigger.

Ace: It's practically impossible to study in here. Sometimes someone else's stuff'll end up in my personal space, too.

[Roommate B speaks up]

Ace: …Huh? Pot, meet kettle? No way, I'm always tiding up after myself…

[Roommate B interjects]

Ace: Eh, you found my pen mixed in with your stuff the other day? Uhhhh…. Oh, dang, look at that, it's lights out time!

Ace: I gotta hit the hay! Mmkay, night!

Ace: Aaand, that's the way to shut them out! This is why I love canopy beds.

Ace: As soon as I draw the curtains closed, I can have secure myself a small, little private space…

Ace: The thicker curtains help to keep light and sound down, so even if I'm playing with my phone all night long, it's not bothering anyone else.

Ace: When I think of it that way, I think the only thing I really have to complain about my room is just that it's small.

Ace: …But once I step outside my room, I gotta deal with strange rules, scary upperclassmen, and insanely hard homework.

Ace: Oh, right, I have homework… I need to do that… But first, I think I'll take a bit of a breather and play on my phone for a bit!

Ace: Ooh, my middle school friends uploaded something onto Magicam. They look like they're havin' fun back in the Queendom.

Ace: I feel crazy jelly seeing that, especially since I'm stuck in the middle of nowhere on Sage's Island… Hm?

Ace: Wait, what's this video at the bottom…? Oh! It's an ad for the magic shop I was looking into the other day!

Ace: Woah, how'd they manage that trick? Yooo, I bet I'd look real cool if I could master that!

Ace: I really want that magic trick. Maybe I should ask for it for my birthday.

Ace: Oh, hey, that next manga chapter is out. I gotta check that out.

Ace: Oh, and there's an event going on in that one mobile game. Guess I can log in for that. Oh, and…

[Heartslabyul Dorm – Ace's Room]

Ace: Urrrgh… Mm… It's too bright… Is it morning already? I guess I fell asleep playing the game.

Ace: What time is it…? Huh!? It's already this late!? Hey, why didn't anyone wake me up!?

Ace: Didn't my alarm wake me? You opened my curtain for me? …If you're gonna do that much, you coulda woken me up!

Ace: At least I don't have morning practice today… But I gotta get ready on the double!

[Heartslabyul Dorm – Washroom]

Ace: My face is washed and my skin-care routine is done.

Ace: Ack, my hair's all over the place! Ughh, c'mon, I hate how my hair is…!

Ace: Maybe I can just fix it with some wax… Oh, but I want to make sure I have time to fix my makeup…

Ace: I got no choice, I should just use magic to set it! I screwed it up last time, but… I can totally do it today! Definitely! Hyah!

[poof!]

Ace: AAAAAAAAHH!? IT GOT EVEN WORSE, THIS SUCKS!!

Ace: What can I even do about this now!? Okay, first, let me try this spray to fix the bedhead!!

[spritz, spritz, spritz]

Ace: Ack, did I spray too much? Okay, I should just be able to rub it in here with my fingers… Guess I'll just have to see how it looks later.

Ace: I gotta set my makeup while I wait for my hair to loosen up. First, I gotta slap on some sunscreen…

Ace: Now, my eyebrows are the priority. I can kinda let everything else be half-done, but this's gotta be on point.

Ace: Back in middle school, I remember we were all laughing our heads off at this one person who did a terrible job drawing in his eyebrows, tryin' to look all fashion-y.

Ace: …I mean, not like I'd ever or will ever make that kind of screw up, though.

Ace: I saw a video yesterday that says that thicker eyebrows are in right now, so I'll just try to follow that tutorial and draw in where it's lacking…

Ace: Okay, nice. Not bad! I think I did pretty good for just trying to copy what I saw.

Ace: Now all I got left is my eye makeup… What should I do for the suit? I'd like to use something with a bit of lamé in it, but…

Ace: I bet the Housewarden'll get all huffy if it's too fancy. Guess I should just do what I normally do.

Ace: How's my hair looking…? Nice, it's tamer now! Probably was a good thing to spray too much on it.

Ace: Just gotta put some hair wax in to set it… Done. Whew, I feel a bit more presentable now.

[Heartslabyul Dorm – Ace's Room]

[roommates chattering]

Ace: I gotta get my stuff together ASAP… Wait, huh? If the rest of you are all here, does that mean we still have a bunch of time?

Ace: Maan, then I coulda worked on my hair a bit more. I think I'll dip into the washroom again… Huh? My enigmatics homework?

Ace: …AAAAAAAAAH!! I COMPLETELY FORGOT ABOUT IT!!

Ace: Oh man, I'm so screwed, Crewel's gonna tan my hide if I don't do anything… What should I do!?

Ace: …Hold the phone. I have enigmatics in the afternoon. That essentially means I'll have my lunch break before I have to turn it in.

Ace: I think the other classes might be ahead of us, so maybe they've already finished the homework already?

Ace: Even if the questions are slightly different, as long as I can figure out how they solved it, I should be able to bang it out… Oh yeah, it's all coming together.

[Roommate A speaks up]

Ace: Wheeew, I got all worked up over nothing～ Mmkay, then I'm heading out… Huh, what is it? You want me to help with your homework?

Ace: Hahahah, no waaaay! Here, I'll open the curtains up for you, so why don't you figure out the rest～?

[Main Street]

Kalim: Oh, there he is. Ace! Good morning!

Ace: Ah, Kalim-senpai! Good morning…? What's up? Isn't the party tomorrow?

Kalim: Yeah! But your birthday's today, right? That's why I thought I'd come wish you a happy birthday in person.

Kalim: So, yeah… Happy Birthday, Ace!

Ace: Haha, you really are the type of guy to show up the day of just to wish someone a happy birthday, huh.

Ace: Thanks a bunch! I can't wait for the epic party tomorrow!

Requested by @thelonepearl.

[a-b-riddle]

Runaway Love (kidnapper Price x captive reader)

cw: established kidnapping, violence, intimidation, unplanned pregnancy, miscommunicated threat of forced abortion, eventual Stockholm syndrome, housewife kink. Reader just accepts her situation at this point. Dub-con, non-con.

You couldn't think of anything except the pain that radiated with each step toward your room. You were lucky your work and home were the same place. It was incomprehensible, downright unbelievable how some of the other maids worked their shift and then either walked home or walked to the bus stop.

Granted, most of them weren't pregnant and had shoes that actually fit, but you didn't like to complain. You were lucky to have the job, even if it was back breaking. You had a roof over your head and although the pay was minimal, you were able to buy essentials and save up and with a baby on the way every penny saved counted.

Most importantly, you were free. You were safe and so was the baby. It had been the only reason that after almost a year, you had finally been brave enough to escape. Knowing that it would be hard to rebuild a life from scratch. Knowing that the consequences meant a punishment so severe you could only hope for death.

You had tracked your period religiously. Even with the stress of being held captive by a psycho military Captain, your cycles were fairly normal. So when you were five days off, you knew. In a moment in which you wanted nothing more than to be happy to finally be starting the family you dreamed about having as a little girl, fear enveloped you.

John had never mentioned kids. Only a wife. Someone to be at home waiting for him. Keeping the house in order and his bed warm while he was away.

All I need is you and the boys, Birdie. What more could a man want?

You considered telling him. Hoping that he would be as happy as you wanted to be. Yet anytime you came close to telling him over the next two weeks, horrible thoughts raced through your mind. What if he was angry? What if he blamed you even though he practically took you whenever he pleased? How would he terminate the pregnancy or would he be content in letting you give birth without any medical intervention and simply get rid of the baby after?

Would he just get rid of you altogether?

It was like the universe was telling you to run when shortly after you decided that telling him wasn't the answer, that he told you he was going on a mission. Won't be back for a couple of weeks. Sent the boys to pick up anything you'll need. I know you'll be good for me.

You had been good. For that last six months, you had behaved. Didn't pull away from his touch or put up a fuss. You lived in the epitome of domestic bliss, so John had no reason to send you down to the basement. Not when you had so many opportunities to try to escape and you didn't.

Granted, he had threatened to break your legs during your first and last stunt. You had been in the basement for three weeks. Living in near darkness as he brought all of your meals. You had been upstairs for about twenty minutes and barely made it to the door before he tackled you. Pinning you to the ground, breath hot against the back of your neck as he hissed in your ear. Ungrateful little brat.

Your apologies fell on deaf ears as he hauled you back down where you would stay for six weeks.

For months you built the relationship on a lie. A lie John deluded himself into believing. Anytime he told you he loved you, you repeated the words back. Wanting to scrub your body raw anytime he touched you and hating yourself anytime he made you come.

But it had been worth it. You were four months along, and given your ill-fitted clothes, not really showing, but knowing that in another five months you would be holding the baby you always wanted. A baby that you had went through hell for. Seeing his or her face for the first time, being their mom would be worth it.

You kept all of the lights off. It was a request of the motel owners to reduce their bills. So even if it was early December and you knew you would be walking back to a freezing room, they didn't give a shit. In truth, they were doing you a favor only charging you $400 in rent with unlimited access to their laundry services. You suppose having the pity of others did have its perks.

You hadn't even bothered to turn on the lights before pulling your shoes off your feet and plopping down on the bed. The grit and grim still felt thick on your skin, but you couldn't find the energy to care. You would shower and get on a fresh set of clothes you had gotten from the shelter when you first made it into the city, but for now you needed a moment. Just a few minutes to decompress.

A few minutes turned into five and then ten. Before you knew it, you had been laying in the bed floating in and out of consciousness for almost twenty minutes. You knew you needed to get up. Wash away the grime of the day that had settled on your skin. Your clothes smelling faintly of bleach.

Fuck you were tired.

You were always tired.

You got up and made your way to the bathroom, barely keeping your eyes opened. Not confident enough you would actually be able to take a shower without wanting to lay down in the tub and let all the strain of the day go down the train.

It's funny how the human body can make us teeter on the edge of sleep. We imagine things that may or not be there. But when you heard it, when you heard that voice coming from the corner of you room, you knew you weren't imagining anything.

"Wonderin' when you'd wake up."