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#like it's fine but you can't use it without it still subconsciously feeling like the waste canal
tooies · 4 months
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hi sorry i haven't been very active on here lately it's just i've been super busy these past few weeks and been putting most of my Posting energy into cohost both because of the whole Situation here and because cohost just feels so much nicer. twitter is like wading through a dirty canal flooded with knee-high wastewater with a bunch of people are all lined up on the sides of the canal yelling at you and each other while tumblr is like walking uphill through a nature trail on your way to work on an excessively cold day but cohost is like biking downhill along another nature trail on a pleasant summer's evening. if that makes sense
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telail · 6 months
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☆- [7:26 AM] Waking up with Wooyoung
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Pairing: Jung Wooyoung x Poc!Fem!Reader Tags: 1k wc, established relationship, fluff, suggestive, ateez scenario 🎧- PILLOWTALK by ZAYN note: a request for my pookie and current fave moot @kairoot hope u like it stinka. ^3^ - TAE
You had to move as slowly, and as quietly as possible.
That is if you didn't want to wake up the ticking time bomb next to you. Softly snoring with his mouth slightly agape, it looked as if he was in the deepest state of zen that an unconscious person could possibly be in.
But you knew better than to believe that. It was Wooyoung, for all you knew he’d crack his eyes open at the sound of a deep sigh. 
Your body had subconsciously woken you up without the help of an alarm about 40 minutes before you needed to head out for work.
Wooyoung lay still on his stomach, his head facing in your direction as his arm bent slightly above his head. Resting barley under your pillow but more so under his. 
You sat up and stretched, extending your limbs in the most subtle way possible in hopes that your boyfriend would not interrupt his own rest and wake up at the simple movement of your stretching.
Your hopes were in vain when just as you were about to relax your arms from their place above your head you felt warm slender fingers glide their way across the little portion of your slightly exposed tummy. Settling on the other side of your hip with a subtle squeeze.
The sensation of Wooyoung’s fingers tickled and caught you off guard a bit, causing you to jolt and bring your arms down in one quick motion.
“Morning baby..” He mumbles, a sleepy smirk making its way onto his face as he turned his head slightly away from you to yawn.
“Good morning, woo.” You respond, your tiredness still evident in your voice.
He hummed to himself, using the arm that had already secured itself around your waist to tug you closer to him.
“Hey..” You say, sighing. You were intending to start a sentence but when you moved to look at him you were met with Wooyoung’s tired yet love filled eyes. Making you cut yourself off just to admire his current appearance for a moment or two.
“Hi pretty.” He responded, grinning and resting his eyes shut for a little longer than a few seconds.
You thought he’d fallen asleep again, that is until when you went to move, his grip on you only tightened as he urged you to stay close to him.
“You work today?” He grumbled, opening his eyes to look at you once again. “I do.”
He whined at this, rolling himself over so that he was laying in your lap. He looked up at you, his plump bottom lip jutting out a little, he was pouting.
“Don't look at me like that, you know my schedule honey. I’ve gotta make money one way or another.” You said, running your free hand through his messy but layered blonde and black strands.
“You don't “gotta” make money, you just choose to. I make enough for both of us and more.” He negotiated, peppering light kisses over the scape of your navel. He’d rubbed his hand under the cloth of your cami so that the lower portion of your belly was revealed to him. 
“Call out,” He said between kisses. “Tell them you’ve come down with something and can't make it.” 
You sighed, it wasn't often but every now and then Wooyoung would get a break in his schedule and would want to sleep in, but not without you.
“I can’t do that, I’m fine. If I stayed I'd probably end up staying in bed all day.” You said, a small smile making its way onto your face as you thought back to you and Wooyoung’s last lazy day where you’d stayed in bed and cuddled, made out, and watched dramas all day.
“What's wrong with that?” He asked, lifting one of his eyebrows slightly as his body relaxed against his will at the feeling of your fingers dancing around his scalp.
“Everything when I’m supposed to be working.” You huffed. You tried to make a quick escape and shimmy your way from under him but you weren't able to get more than both legs off the bed when he clung onto you like a sloth on a branch.
“You know..” he started, a pinch of mischief in his tone. “I could really give you a reason to stay in bed all day. If that’s what you’re lookin’ for.” You groaned, fighting back a smile as you rolled your eyes and maneuvered yourself out of his grip. “I am not.”
He laughed at your reaction, loosening his grip enough to let you finally get up but not before grabbing your wrist when you went to walk away.
He puckered his lips expectantly, normally you'd oblige with his silent request for a kiss but you’d just woken up not too long ago and felt the need to brush your teeth more than anything.
You blew him an air kiss watching as his face contorted into that of disapproval. 
“I need to brush my teeth.” You said, suppressing a giggle at his offended expression.
“On my cheek then.” He said turning his cheek towards you, still a little puffy considering the fact that he’d just woken up.
You shook your head before leaning in to peck him on what you thought was gonna be his cheek before he turned his head at the last moment to meet your lips with his.
“Woo-” you went to protest and pull away but his hand had come up to the back of your head to gently hold you in place as he planted 2 more kisses on your lips then a third on your cheek. 
He pulled back with a proud grin, licking his lips as he watched you walk towards your shared bathroom, mumbling about him being gross.
“Love you too baby.” He said, stretching his own limbs and sitting up, preparing to mess with you throughout your entire morning routine until you eventually would leave him without you for a few hours.
He didn’t mind though, as long as you came back to him so he could do it all over again.
excuse any mistakes ;P
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mechanicalpiper · 2 months
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Hey so I know your busy doing important things (And hearts out for whatever your doing) but I just had another idea come to mind that maybe you could put in a catalog for the future!
"Villain has just been defeated in a long battle by Hero and has decided to try a bit of seduction to win the day. However, Hero is Touch Starved to hell and back and cries at the slightest nice touch/caress"
Bonus points for some heart clenching fluff
Yours truly!
Cooper
You ever procrastinate so hard you start and finish an entirely different project?
By FAR the sappiest and most hurt/comfort-y I've done and was stupidly fun to write. Enjoy :3
Snippet #8
The sounds of strike after strike rang out through the empty city street.
Hero and Villain were once more locked in a tense brawl- nothing new, of course. It had become second nature to them by now- when you spend almost every other day scrapping with the same person for years, it's not hard to get used to it. Hell, with how familiar the two had gotten with each other's fighting styles by now, it was easy for either of them to just let their mind wander while they brawled if they just weren't feeling too up to it that day.
Hero was certainly having one of those days.
They semi-consciously blocked Villain's strikes and threw blows back, less like they were brawling for the safety of the city and more like they were doing a boring day job. An entirely different focus was on their mind... one that had stuck around for a while now. A thought? A worry? A feeling, or the lack of one? Hero couldn't tell by now.
They quickly ducked out of the way just in time as Villain threw a kick at their head, knocking them out of their train of thought and back into full consciousness.
Yeah, fuck, they were fighting Villain. Almost forgot.
Villain certainly took notice of their sudden attention. "Oh, THERE you are. C'mon, can't you at least focus? It's so much less fun when you zone out like that."
"Whuh-? Pff, fun? I'm here to stop you from committing murder, not for a little playdate." Hero grumbled back at their rival, still not fully back at attention.
"Hm. Certainly not the attitude from our first battle. Losing your touch, maybe?" Villain taunted back.
"You wish."
"I don't think I need to. You seem to be dulling just fine without help."
"Still sharper than you. I was winning without paying attention! You couldn't beat my subconscious, how do you expect to beat the rest of me?" As Hero shot back, a tiny smile began to form on their face. Wow, it's been a while since they've bantered in combat like this... it felt nice to just speak with someone, even if that someone was Villain, of all people.
"PFFFF. Winning? The only reason you're not bleeding out on the concrete right now is because I'm having fun with this. I spared you there, y'know~" Villain taunted, a confident grin on their face.
"Yeah, riiiight. How about you actually do something threatening before making simple empty thr-"
Hero was cut off by a sudden feeling- they brought a forearm up to block a strike from Villain, but instead of the expected punch, they felt a grab.
A... grab?
Hero froze in place for the slightest moment.
It was only a split second, but it felt like ages, as if their brain was desperately trying to to cling onto the brief moment. The slightest sensation.
Villain's touch was soft.
Yet, despite everything, the moment was still over far too quickly. Hero hardly even considered why Villain would go for a grab in the moment- by the time they processed the fact it was an attack, it was far too late.
Villain turned around to throw Hero against the concrete wall of the building behind them.
They let out a yelp of pain as they slammed backwards into the wall. After the touch, the motion of being thrown, the hard hit... Hero was far too disoriented to get back into action, let alone stay balanced. Unable to stand up, they just slid down against the wall with a small groan of pain until they found themself at a sitting position, defeated.
Villain let out a small, cocky giggle, stepping closer to Hero to look down at them.
Hero, while still rather disoriented, looked up to see Villain towering over them. ...Wow.
"Is that 'threatening' enough for you, sweetie~?" Villain taunted once more, looking down at the defeated Hero with cocky confidence. God, they loved the feeling of the weakened Hero looking up at them. Always felt nice to win against them.
Hero was already ignoring the pain.
Their brain latched onto that one word- one Villain didn't so much as emphasize saying, like it was nothing special.
Sweetie??
A pet name. A pet name??? Villain called them a pet name??? Sure, they've heard of it being used for taunting before, and really never thought much of it, but- but something about it felt so, so different. When was the last time they were acknowledged like that? Was there a last time? Why did just being acknowledged feel so good? Fuck, they shouldn't like this, they were beat up and lying against a wall with their arch nemesis towering over them, taunting them, but- but not k-killing them? It shouldn't feel... c-comforting, should it?...
...'Sweetheart'...
Villain just looked down at Hero, their cocky expression switched to mild confusion. They certainly didn't react like they were in much pain... Hero's face wasn't that red before, was it?
"Hm. Losing focus agai-"
Hero shook their head 'no' almost instantly, cutting Villain off in mild surprise. They were definitely paying attention, alright, but...
Villain slightly cocked their head at Hero, thinking for a moment. The pause was only a second or two, though. They were quick to get back to teasing, assuming they were simply overthinking a weird reaction.
"Hmmm~" they muttered, crouching down to get level with their defeated rival, keeping that same smug, satisfied look.
"See? I could've taken you out like that aaany time I wanted~"
Hero looked off to the side, as if trying to hide from the other's gaze- Villain's confidence only grew seeing the embarrassment they wanted out of Hero.
At least, what they saw as embarrassment. While that certainly was an aspect of it... it wasn't why Hero's attention diverted like that. Their thoughts weren't the feelings of humiliation and defeat Villain assumed.
An entirely different focus was on their mind.
A thought?
A worry?
A feeling, or the lack of one?
It could be any of them. It could depend on the circumstance. It could technically fall under every one of them, with the right logic.
Hero didn't know nor care.
All they knew is what it felt like right now.
It's a fear.
A fear of this. This emotion.
The first time in memory they've felt so... acknowledged, so strangely comfy- the only time they could have this feeling was when their nemesis was using it to taunt them. The only thing they were ever really seen or known for is their protection of the city. The Agency was obviously impersonal and corporate, other Heroes saw them as an antisocial business partner, the citizens of course only liked them for the protection, and they had nobody else outside of that despite their years of previous efforts.
The only value others saw in them was the tangible benefit they provided. The only value they saw in themself was just that. They so, so badly wanted this feeling of comfort, but they so, so deeply believed they didn't deserve it.
Believed the only way they could ever be worth loving is when it was a punishment like this.
All Villain saw was Hero looking off to the side. Zoning out again? They mumbled something to themself, leaning down just a little more.
Hero didn't always used to do that. It had them worried, honestly. It only began somewhat recently, but it was absolutely constant.
Villain felt bad. Yeah, their public motive was always money or power or whatever evil plot they had for the week would accomplish, and while those certainty were good benefits, they weren't the reason they did it.
They did it for Hero.
They weren't joking when they said they were messing with them for fun earlier. It started as just a want to fight, but the second they came across Hero, they couldn't keep themself away. At first it was simply their fighting style being fun, as Villain justified it to themself. Then the wit in their banter was more entertaining than others. Then they provided the biggest challenge. Then... well, Villain couldn't deny a sense of warmth when they were around Hero.
They had so much personality, so much energy, but as time passed it felt like they got less so. Villain was almost scared to watch it. Not because it was more fun to fight them, but rather... well, they had to admit to themself they just didn't want to see Hero so thoroughly unhappy. So sapped of life.
Villain took one hand and gently swooped it under Hero's chin, turning their head back to face them and lifting their chin a little. Hero flinched a little, but didn't pull back.
"Hey. Pay attention, sweetie."
Hero's breathing got slightly quicker. Shallower. Starting off subtle, it ramped up.
Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit, hOLY SHIT, HOLY SHIT.
The feeling of Villain's hand was the best thing they'd ever felt. In their life. They didn't know anything could be this soft, any temperature could be this comforting and warm, that any grip could be so firm yet gentle, that any gaze could be so powerful yet soft- they were completely hyperventilating, tears welling in their eyes. They didn't want to trust it, but they wanted the comfort too badly to treat this rationally. They'd never felt anything so unbelievably wonderful. They wanted it so, so bad.
Villain couldn't stop themself from gasping. They certainly weren't expecting that reaction, but seeing Hero just break down like that, they were absolutely overcome with the heat of the moment need to just... protect them. Comfort them.
Only a moment later, the two simultaneously fell into an impulsive hug.
Villain squeezed Hero tightly against them as Hero buried their face in Villain's shoulder. Hero completely stopped thinking about their doubts- only one thing mattered right now, and that was Villain. It was so unbelievably comfy, warm, happy, soft, safe... years of built up serotonin was flooding out all at once, and it only got better as Villain brought one hand up from the hug to run it through Hero's hair.
They'd never been this much of an absolute mess. They'd never been this happy in their life.
Villain just continued holding Hero tight.
Minutes passed. Neither wanted the moment to end.
But finally, after what felt like years, Hero's breathing finally began to get deeper again. Villain let out a relived sigh, though didn't quite let go yet, allowing Hero's tears to dry and breathing to fully steady. Villain stayed patient as Hero got calmer and calmer until their desperate squeeze against Villain finally relaxed.
Hero felt the safest they ever had, and Villain couldn't be happier. The idea that they were rivals didn't even cross either of their minds- it just felt so right.
"...How're you feeling?"
Hero answered in a quiet, vulnerable, satisfied whisper, more emotion in their voice than Villain had ever heard.
"...n-needed this."
For the first time in ages, an entirely new focus was on Hero's mind.
A thought?
A worry?
A feeling?
They were certainly leaning towards it being a feeling.
That feeling was love.
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luminoustarlight · 9 months
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State of Grace | Anakin Skywalker
Anakin finds comfort in you when he can't sleep.
rating: general audiences | pairing: anakin skywalker x f!reader | wc: 1.3k | read on ao3 warnings: comfort, first kiss
I'd like to start a challenge called "how many fics can I think of inspired by taylor swift songs?"
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When there’s a knock at your door in the middle of the night, you know exactly who is standing on the other side. It’s become so routine over the course of the war, that you wonder if there’s a way for him to just stay with you. But of course, it’s forbidden. His attachment to you is forbidden. And yet… two tired blue eyes meet yours when you open your door. 
“Anakin,” you greet gently. Your heart sinks every time you see him so disheveled. He only bothered to put on a robe, the same as you before coming over. It’s tied loosely around his waist, revealing the various injuries on his chest and abdomen. His hair looks like it hasn’t been washed in several days. Even his face looks thinner, cheeks hollowing in ever so slightly. 
“I’m sorry,” he replies hoarsely. 
“Come in, Ani,” you ignore his apology and open the door further. Your apartment is dark, thanks to the thick curtains in your lounge and bedroom. Coruscant is a planet that never sleeps. The hum of speeders passing by your window at all hours used to bother you. Now you can’t sleep without it. And Anakin can’t seem to sleep without you. 
He stands awkwardly in the foyer even though it’s the fourth time this week he’s come by. He really tries not to. He tries getting himself back to sleep, to think of anything else but the nightmares that wake him up in a cold sweat time and time again. The nights when he doesn’t visit you are the nights he hardly sleeps at all. It’s easier to just stay awake than to feel the pain of losing his mother again… losing the war… losing you. 
 “Can I make you some tea?” you offer. 
“Um,” Anakin clears his throat, “that would be nice. Thank you.” He follows you into the kitchen and sits down on the middle stool at the counter. (It’s subconsciously his favorite because it swivels the most out of the other two). 
You’re simply filling the kettle with water and he’s entranced by you. He’s drawn to you in such a way that makes it impossible to ignore. How do you have so much kindness for him? He’s always coming over uninvited, unannounced, always in the middle of your sleep cycle. You must be exhausted, too. You never let him see it, though. “You are so—” 
“Would you like to—” you and Anakin speak at the same time. “Oh,” you giggle. “You go ahead.” 
Anakin shakes his head. He better not say it. As much as he wants to, telling you you’re beautiful opens a can of worms he’s not sure he’s ready to release. “That’s okay. What were you going to say?” 
The stove finally ignites after a few clicks and you place your cerulean kettle on the flame. You turn back to Anakin with a soft smile. “I was just going to ask if you wanted to talk about it.” 
 “Just another nightmare,” Anakin shrugs. “Nothing you haven’t heard before.” 
You reach over the counter to encompass Anakin’s hands in yours. You pay no mind to his artificial hand, even though he didn’t cover it with his glove. “You can still tell me if you like.” 
“I- I don’t feel like talking. I’m sorry,” he sighs. “I’m terrible company.” 
“You’re not, Anakin,” you squeeze his hands. “You are going through an unprecedented time right now. It’s okay to be overwhelmed, exhausted, defeated, dejected… it’s okay.” 
Anakin pulls his hands away from you and stands frustratedly. “That’s just it, though. The whole galaxy is going through the same thing— the council, the senators, everyone. And they seem fine. Why does it have to affect me so much?” 
You round the counter to meet Anakin once more. Tentatively placing your hands on either side of his face, you direct his attention to you. “Because you actually let yourself feel. And you feel deeply. I can’t imagine your burden, Anakin. But what you’re feeling, the nightmares you have… it doesn’t make you any less strong. It doesn’t make you weak. It makes you human. And just because you don’t see the council or the senators visibly struggling, it doesn’t mean they aren’t. You never know what battles someone is dealing with behind closed doors.” 
“What are you battling?” Anakin wonders.
His question gives you pause. You shouldn’t say. But the weight of it in your belly every time you’re with him almost makes you feel sick. “My feelings for you,” you answer against your better judgment. “I don’t want to make you feel awkward, Anakin. But I’ve felt this way for a long time now.” 
“Your…” Anakin’s eyes are searching your features for any sign of dishonesty. But you wouldn’t do that to him and he hates himself for even thinking for a second that you would. “Your feelings for me?” 
“I know you can’t have attachments, Anakin. I don’t expect you to feel the same way, but I… but you asked and I just thought there was no better moment than now. I know that there is nothing we can -” 
“Can I kiss you?” Anakin interrupts you. He knows it’s wrong, he knows he shouldn’t, but Maker does he want to. 
“You- you want to kiss me?” you blink up at him. Did you hear him correctly? 
It’s Anakin’s turn to take your face in his hands. He drags his thumbs over the apples of your cheeks and swipes his tongue over his bottom lip as he stares at yours.  “I want to kiss you very badly. If you’ll let me.” 
You’re not sure your heart could possibly beat any faster than it is now. Have you always been standing so close together? When did his thighs start touching yours? When did his mouth begin hovering over yours, waiting patiently for your answer? “Yes,” you breathe. And just like that, Anakin’s lips are meshing with yours, fitting together like they were made for each other. He pulls you impossibly close to him, noses smushing against the other’s cheek, breathing becoming one as you taste each other for the first time. You couldn’t be more certain that you are kissing the lover you’ve been waiting for all your life. 
Anakin wonders how something that is so wrong for him as a Jedi could feel so right. He is convinced he was made to kiss you. He was made to take you in his arms and hold on tight. He could kiss you forever if it weren’t for the whistling tea kettle startling both of you. 
You break away breathlessly and with a little giggle as you turn off the burner. “Do you, um,” you can’t help but touch your lips. The feeling and taste of Anakin still lingering on you. “Do you still want tea?” 
Anakin smiles, which only makes him smile more because he thought the muscles required to smile didn’t exist anymore. “Only if you’re having some,” he says. Although, he really doesn’t want tea at all. He just wants to kiss you. That is what will really nourish him, what will make his tummy feel warm and comforted. 
“I think I’d just like to kiss you some more,” you answer. 
So that’s what you do instead of having tea. You kiss in the kitchen, in the doorframe of your bedroom, on your bed until you both eventually fall asleep with your legs twisted together and your head on his chest. And for the first time in months, Anakin sleeps peacefully. He’s not even sure he dreams at all. He only feels. And it’s safe. It’s calm. Because you are his state of grace.  The rest of the galaxy falls away when he’s with you. This is something he is willing to fight for. These moments with you. Because when you are alone in your apartment, he can be whoever he wants. He’s not General Skywalker or Ahsoka’s master or “the Chosen One”. 
He’s just your Anakin.
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bye i love him <3
◂ anakin masterlist ▸ main masterlist
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cookinguptales · 10 months
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Do you think Nandor is actually dumb enough to think that a bird fucked a mouse and gave birth to a Guillermo lookalike frog? Or was he just looking for an excuse to dig into Guillermo cause he's a salty bitch who misses him.
You know, when I got the notification for this ask, at first all I saw was "do you think Nandor is actually dumb enough" and I just reflexively said "yes" without reading anything more, so there's that.
Genuinely, though, I think that Nandor often lives in a place of very deep denial, and he'll make up whatever he has to so he can keep living there. I do think he's dumb, don't get me wrong. But I think that Nandor often sees gaps but doesn't actually want to fill them. He knows Guillermo's acting weird, he knows Guillermo's never around anymore, he knows people are hiding something from him. But he's not letting himself fully think these things through.
Laszlo doesn't care about Guillermo -> (gap) -> Laszlo is spending all his time with Guillermo.
Nandor sees that gap, but he doesn't want to know the real answer, so he just comes up with one that's quick and easy and kind of stupid, which is that Laszlo is trying to woo Guillermo away from him.
Guillermo isn't around -> (gap) -> I feel lonely.
He sees that gap, but instead of talking to Guillermo about it or doing self-reflection about what his loneliness means, he just fills it with Alexander.
Everything is fine with Guillermo -> (gap) -> Guillermo is avoiding me and won't talk to me.
Again, he notices the gap. But he fills it with "obviously, I must have forgotten Guillermo's birthday." He doesn't even know when Guillermo's birthday is, but he just needs something to fill that gap and he will clutch at increasingly desperate straws to do so.
So that brings us to where we are now, when he is getting increasingly suspicious and frustrated and lonely and kind of scared, but he still can't bring himself to really evaluate what's going on.
Weird frogs that look like Guillermo are flying around -> gap gap gap gap gap.
And he could look at this and think, "holy shit, Laszlo is experimenting on Guillermo." He could look at this and think, "holy shit, something weird and supernatural is going on with Guillermo." He could look at this and think, "hey, do you think Guillermo is seeming awfully vampiric lately?"
But he can't think any of those things because they scare and upset him, so instead he has to fill that huge gap with literally anything else, and if that's gotta be a bird fucking a rat who fucked a frog who looks like Guillermo, well fucking so be it.
And if that idea seems to be suspiciously fueled by a friend doing something shady that he doesn't like (presumably Matthew the bird) and Guillermo not doing what he should be doing, well. Nandor isn't exactly going to examine what his subconscious is telling him there.
He's going to keep ignoring what his brain is slowly, slowly starting to put together in the background of his psyche and come up with literally any other option, no matter how inane it is.
He's good at that.
(But also yeah he's a salty bitch who misses him and wants to make Guillermo feel as bad as he does. 🥲)
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papercupids · 1 year
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are you sure?
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pairing -> mingyu x reader. (gender neutral).
words -> 600+
warnings -> none.
genre -> fluff, established relationship!au, comfort.
a/n -> tbh this is very self indulgent of me but i love writing these small scenarios for the loml so much <3
synopsis -> when a nightmare shakes you up, you’re just glad mingyu has strong instincts when it comes to you. inspired by "are you sure?" by loote.
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you're staring at him when his eyes open, and he’s sure he felt it subconsciously, why else would he just wake up at 6 am on a saturday without that, it takes a minute for him to adjust to his consciousness, let alone to the fact that you were staring at him. 
and you swear you didn’t mean to stare at him like that but it was one of the times when you're in deep thinking and you don’t even realize you're staring at something, which this time happened to be processing the details of your dreams. 
he squints and makes a questioning noise, in his morning voice, he asks, "what happened?"
"is everything okay?" he interrogates again after the lack of response from your side.
"hmmm," you hum, diverting your gaze from him and turning to lay on your back on the bed, as opposed to your body being turned to his side.
"you were in my dream,"
"is that, like, a bad thing?" 
"no, dumbo, it's not a bad thing but," you pause, would it be okay to say this out loud? you were never expressive in the first place and it wasn't a problem for you because mingyu made up for it but now, to admit that you dreamt that he finally left you after getting sick of you was to lay yourself vulnerable and you hadn't done that in any of your relationships. and you were scared that if you did tell, people would use it against you, not that mingyu would, you know that. his eyes, they're so concerned and looking at you confused, waiting for you to continue. 
"well, i saw you leaving me," you say finally, in a quiet voice.
"huh," mingyu lies thinking about the equation like that.
"i can't believe you would do that to me," you whine softly.
"baby, i-" kim mingyu is at a loss for words, it was funny and cute that you thought he had say in your dreams. so he wrapped his hands around waist.
"baby, that wasn’t me, you know that,"
"but what if, someday?"
he presses a kiss on your cheek. "it won't be, baby, i promise,"
"are you sure?" you look into his eyes. the dream felt so real. you just hoped you would never see hate for yourself in those eyes.
"i do, i love you, and i would never just up and leave. never ever, i swear."
you nod. he looks into your eyes to check if you believe him. there's a pause where he closes his eyes and leans in for a kiss, soft and gentle, with his hands cupping your face and he attaches your forehead with his when it ends. 
when he pulls away, he holds up his small finger. "i pinky promise,"
to that you can't help but laugh, you love this man so much.
"hey, wait, you didn’t pinky promise it to me,"
"i'm asleep, kim mingyu, already sleeping, i can't hear you," you tease, closing your eyes.
after a while, when the chaos has died down, he holds you close as you both attempt to fall asleep again, it's no time to wake up right now, especially with the exhausting week you've both had.
"you don't feel like i'm bothering you, do you? when i keep on asking for reassurance that you still love me?" you whisper-ask him, you have enough trust in him to know that it's not true but it keeps on creeping in your mind sometimes.
"no, baby, i understand, it's fine, i'm right here. It’s not a bother at all, in fact it just reminds me that i love you and to keep on reminding you of that as well," he emphasises his point by stroking your hair behind your ear, and just letting his hands softly remind you that he was here, just by your side.
"i love you," you finally conclude. and you can't see it with your back to him but you know he's grinning.
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Text
There's been a lot of "this character is so selfish" (mostly about Ray, but I already tried about that), and like. That's the point.
They're all selfish in their own way.
They're 22, they're all financially comfortable, they're emotionally illiterate.
Cheum and Mew have cast themselves as superior to the rest of their friends, and treat them all accordingly.
Cheum sees herself as a good friend, as a caretaker, as the one with their shit together; the rest of them are useless fuck ups. She can't even not complain about April-- who is basically perfect, because April wants validation for her movies, and Cheum doesn't get them, so she's annoyed at having to watch. She's constantly talking shit about her friends.
Mew thinks his not chasing sex and relationships makes him superior to his friends. He introduced them all in unflattering ways, while holding himself above them. He doesn't really see them as people, they're characters in his life, and that means he can't see them for who they are. And all this is before his revenge fantasy kicked off and he actively manipulated and used Ray.
Ray's addiction makes him selfish. He wants to be loved so he goes where he thinks he'll get it, even if it's not good for him. When you spend so much of your time trying to numb yourself, it's hard to see anything beyond that. He's still generous with his care and his money, but he doesn't share a lot of himself with most people in his life.
Sand let his need for revenge on Top drive him to do something that he knew would hurt Ray, and used Ray's feelings against him to do it. He lied to Nick and went through his phone.
Boston can't see much beyond his dick, and where his next orgasm is coming from, and even though he isn't particularly fond of anyone in his friend group, he plays the part while purposely doing things to hurt and work against them. He uses Nick's feelings to string him along so he has someone who will provide all the trappings of a relationship without having to commit to someone.
Nick went through Boston's phone multiple times, including before they knew each other for jerk off material. He was so focused on getting Boston to be his that he recorded him and Top, and then told Sand about it, which led to that whole confrontation -- Nick knew about Sand and Ray, and about Ray knowing Boston and Mew at this point, he had to know that that wasn't staying secret. Also, I think it's possible-to-likely that Nick is at least subconsciously manipulating Boston into moving his commitment line every time Nick mentions he might start seeing other people (a friend read this theory and I'm obsessed with it, going to rewatch with this in mind. If you're op of this idea, please lmk!)
Top... Top let petty jealousy over something that Boston-- who he doesn't trust -- told him happened convince him that having sex with Boston again was fine. And then he lied about it, and he consistently used the same "I win you lose" type of language about Mew that Boston does. (I know Top feels bad now, but I don't think he really realized that he loved Mew until Mew dumped him)
They're all dicks in certain ways and circumstances. They're all selfish and self involved and messy.
That's the show, friends. None of your faves are unproblematic. They've all got something that makes them sympathetic to varying degrees, too, but this is about a group of messy bitches who are struggling to keep themselves together, and to hold onto what appear to be the only relationships any of them have without destroying each other (which means lying, or hiding, or ignoring important things).
This is literally just a group of college kids, y'all. And they're here to hurt our feelings and entertain us.
(And maybe let's especially stop calling out the addict with mental health issues for being irredeemable and bad, eh?)
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modelbus · 9 months
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I wrote these three snippets ages ago, but they work :)
Pairing: Cc!Tommyinnit x Gn!reader
Flufftober 8 - Need A Hand? (Love languages)
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You’re talking with Wilbur, waving your hands animatedly in the air, when you sense the shift. It's subtle, like the ripple of a breeze, but it's enough. It tells you Tommy's behind you and definitely about to hug you.
And yup, he does.
Arms snaking around your middle, head resting atop yours. He's warm, like always. You can't help but relax into him. Wilbur, Phil, Ranboo, and Tubbo are the only ones he's this touchy around. You suspect it's because of his whole "big man" shtick.
To your credit, you don’t stop talking. "-It's just bizarre! Who even does that?!"
Wilbur eyes you with amusement.
"Wankers, man." He answers. "Hey Tommy."
"Phil went to get us food." Tommy tells you two, and you can feel his words. 
It's been a long day with a lot of filming. He's probably tired and desperately wanting physical contact seeing as he couldn't be overly affectionate on camera. Which explains him right now. 
"We didn't give him our orders." You point out.
"I told him what you wanted and just hoped he knew what Wil wanted." Of course Tommy knew what you’d get. "What? Wil, why are you staring at me like that?"
To suppress your smile, you try to bite your lip. It's really unsuccessful, and Wilbur gives a small laugh.
"You're a cute couple."
If this had been Tommy at the beginning of you dating, he would've rocketed away. Probably blurt some curse words. But instead, he seems to sink further into you. At this point it must look absolutely ridiculous.
You don’t care at all.
"Next up you have to find someone to date." You tell Wilbur. "Honestly, it's quite sad that we have more game than you."
Tommy snickers. "Yeah, Wilbur. Do you need some relationship advice? Hmm? We're the masters."
"Fuck you." Wilbur bites. "You look stupid."
"And you don't?"
"I-" He starts to sputter.
"Exactly." Tommy huffs, straightening up.
Subconsciously you chase his warmth, leaning back and up just a little. Somehow Tommy notices the subtle movements and takes his spot again.
"How do you deal with him? And… this?" Wilbur asks you.
"Eh. I love it." You blurt.
"...ew." He says, turning away. "That's enough of you two for now."
When Phil comes back with all their food, Tommy's forced to unravel himself from you. 
"Cute, mate." Phil notes.
"Fuck off."
-
"You are an absolute dumbass." You deadpan, backing away from Tommy slowly.
"Who? Me?" He grins back at you, eyes sparkling.
Hell no. Without much thought to it, you turn tail and books it out of there. Within seconds his footsteps are following you, echoing loudly on the sidewalk as you both sprint through the streets of Brighton.
After a second, you realize you’ve wound yourself through the grass park. And, of course, you realize this right before Tommy tackles you and tries to murder you.
Okay, that's an overstatement. He tackled you, yes, but quite gently for Tommy. And when they went down, he made care to be the one hitting his ass on the grass.
Either way, you both get the wind knocked out of you.
"Fuck." You wheeze, rolling onto a patch he isn't occupying.
"Sorry." Is his similarly wheezing response.
Tommy regains his breath quick, leaving you struggling to intake air. Really, it's unfair how fast he regains it.
"I'm going to kill you."
"Hey! We can talk about-" he lets out a yelp when you send an elbow his way, careful it doesn't actually connect.
You move closer to him, and he cautiously tugs you so that youre resting your head on his shoulder. Perhaps with a little too much caution than your elbow warranted.
"You're okay?" He asks, somewhat sheepishly.
"Yeah, fine." You quickly answer, propping yourself up on your elbow to overlook him.
"I swear I didn't mean for us to hit the ground so hard."
"It's okay Toms, I know." 
He still looks mildly worried though, so you press a quick kiss to his lips. Before pulling back and laughing.
"What? What?!" He questions.
"You've got so much grass in your hair!"
You run a hand through it, ruffling his hair to try and get it all out.
"So do you!" He protests, ducking away from your hand.
"I make it looks fashionable, you look like you're about to transform into a blade of grass."
He gapes at you, mock-offended. "How. Fucking. Dare. You."
-
"I look fine right? This isn't stupid?" Tommy asks, frowning at his reflection in the mirror.
You sigh, walking around him to block his sight of himself. He's been staring at himself for ten minutes already, stalling the video. It was technically a prank video, making Tommy nervous as fuck.
"Yes, you look fine. It is stupid, and that's why it's perfect." You tell him.
Reaching out, you help fold and flatten his collar. He holds perfectly still for once, watching you as you fix it. 
Part of you wonders if this is how he'll look when you get married. If he'll wear a similar black tuxedo, the same white button up. He hasn't asked you to marry him yet. You aren’t sure if you care or not. You don't need a ring and some vows to establish your love for each other.
But still. Eventually, one day, you’d like to marry him.
"Perfect." You hum, stepping back. "See?"
"I feel like a kid playing dress up." He scowls.
"Because you are playing dress up, Toms. Come on, you were so excited."
"I know, I still am! Just... what if he doesn't take it well?"
"Tubbo's your best friend. Take it well or not, it'll be fine." 
Tommy nods, tugging on his suit jacket. "Okay. Let's do this."
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coffeeghoulie · 1 month
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Mushy May Day 11: Papa Time
Touring takes its toll, but there's nothing a ghoul pile can't fix.
Thank you to @forlorn-crows for putting Mushy May together, and to @ghuleh-recs for making the dividers! <3
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If Copia wished to know anything about touring before he had become the frontman of the Ghost Project, he wished he had known just how exhausting it was.
He rubs at his temples, slumped on his back on the couch in the front lounge of the tourbus. It rockets down an American highway, one that he can't remember where it starts or ends up. It's late, a tear-down run late, another run of Rituals upcoming. The rocking of the bus, usually soothing, is enough to shift and rattle his protesting brain.
Copia's subconscious tells him he needs to ask Aether for some healing quintessence, but then he remembers he's back at the Abbey, helping to pick up some slack in the infirmary, taking a step back from the spotlight. Aeon is a skilled guitarist, but needs some more time and teaching to get a handle on their magick.
He tries, Lucifer he tries to sleep, he knows he needs it, but the headache pounds on the inside of his skull like a kick drum. Copia huffs, slinging an arm dramatically over his mismatched eyes in a pitiful attempt to block out the light, already turned down for the night.
He's just managing to slip into a restless sleep when a tiny hand touches the sleeve of his tracksuit. Copia grumbles, blinking blearily up at his smallest ghoulette.
"Come join us, Papa?" Aurora asks, voice melodic even when she's just speaking. There's traces of Ritual paint still smeared around the corners of her mouth, the fine lines around her eyes.
"My ghoulette," Copia hums, trying to keep his voice down. "My head is not agreeing with me currently. Perhaps, eh, a rain check?"
Aurora's dainty fingers, clawed with sharp nails even in human glamour, curl around the cuff of his sleeve. "Papa, we all want you to join us. Come join the pack. Promise we'll make it better."
He cracks a smile, and she's been wrapped around his little finger from the moment he helped her stand after pulling her through the brimstone of the summoning portal, and he lets her pull him up from the couch. He groans as his back creaks. Aurora leads him back to the back lounge. As they get closer, the sound of seven purring and chuffing ghouls gets louder and louder. She slides the door open, and seven pairs of glowing eyes snap open.
Copia's eyes adjust to the darkness, watching as all of his ghouls sit up, expressions brightening at the sight of him.
"You got 'im, borealis," Cirrus says, her feather tipped tail swaying lazily where it's wrapped around Cumulus's thigh.
"Did'ya think I couldn't?" Aurora giggles as she leads Copia to the ghoul pile, snuggling up in between Swiss and Dew, who nuzzle up to her. Cirrus reaches over and ruffles her bubblegum pink bangs.
"Never doubted you for a second."
Copia hesitates, eyes darting within the mass of limbs and tails, trying to figure out where he'll fit in best. You've been in ghoul piles before, his mind oh so helpfully provides. Just get in there-
Before he can spiral any more, two big hands shoot out of the pile and wrap around his wrists. Mountain and Rain, in sync, pull him gently into the pile with an oof.
"Evenin', Papa," Mountain purrs sleepily, helping him arrange himself comfortably in the pile.
"How long were you waiting for me?" Copia asks, hoping he hadn't kept his ghouls up any later then they'd wanted.
"Not really that long," Rain shrugs, nuzzling up to Copia's side, skin cool against his warm, human body.
"Just didn't feel right without you," Swiss says, glowing gold eyes blinking shut in the darkness. "Me, Bug, and Rory all could feel it, your mind racing. You need some juice, Pop?"
Copia hums, headache just barely beginning to subside, knowing how safe he is, in the middle of his pack of loyal hellbeasts, ones he trusts and loves. "Eh. It would not hurt, my ghoul."
There's a flash of teeth in the darkness, and Copia fights the animal impulse of fear at the sight before Swiss reaches over, touching his temple. There's a shock of something tingly rocking through his nerves. The ache and pressure eases, and he sighs in genuine relief.
"Grazie," he says, sinking further into the pile of limbs and tails and bodies. Something deep inside of him relaxes, finally at ease.
He rests his head on Mountain's chest, listening to the deep rumble of the earth ghoul's purr. Aeon shifts in the pile, resting their head on the soft pudge of his stomach, chuffing happily and wrapping their arms and tail around him. Copia reaches down, playing absentmindedly with their white forelock, and the chuffing gets louder. Not overly so, definitely soothing. The warmth and contact and the bone-deep, draining exhaustion of touring all creeping up on him.
"Sleep, Papa," Cumulus hums, voice trilling softly. "We'll be here in the morning."
He smiles, reaching to pat her arm fondly before he falls into a much-needed, restful sleep.
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talaok · 1 year
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I've dreamed of this | pt. X
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Summary: You are a part of the BAU, and for the longest time you and Dr. Spencer Reid had been best of friends, even when it was clear to everyone else, and at times to you, that you should be more than that, and when something almost happens on a night out with the team, everything is destined to change.
This is a double pov story (each chapter will be alternated between y/n's and spencer's pov)
Chapter summary: idk man it's the last part what do you think happens
warnings: angst with happy ending
<if you want to be added to the tag-list comment or write to me>
previous part 
Spencer
He hadn't slept. At all.
How could he?
He had had everything, everything he ever wanted, needed, and then, in a heartbeat, it had all fled away.
She had.
He could still feel her, smell her, there, on his couch, on his bed, in his kitchen,
she was gone and had left everything behind, everything, except herself, except what he had fought for, and hoped for so long.
Spencer couldn't believe it at first.
She had said "I don't know if I can do this" and Spencer, as stupid as he was, though
no, she doesn't mean that
because that would be impossible,
because everything was fine just this morning,
but then she had kept going,
she kept talking, and as the realization hit, as she presented him with more and more reasons, more arguments he had felt himself slip away, the sounds coming out her mouth getting muffled as a ringing started in his ears.
She had left him,
because of Hotch
because they're friends,
because she can't lose him.
But he didn't understand,
he couldn't.
His mind was always slower around her, but now it seems it had come to a full stop.
He had done it,
He had finally grabbed the thread, the same one he had been running towards for what felt like ages, his legs tired and his mind full of doubts, of fear. He had grabbed it, and god had it felt good,
better than he could have ever imagined,
better than anything,
So good that all the effort he had put into it disappeared, flew away with the clouds as the sun finally shone.
He had grabbed it, and he thought that was it,
Spencer was never someone sure of himself, he felt nervous all the time, but he wasn't, for once, nervous about this.
For some reason, he had thought that he had done it, and there was nothing for him to worry about,
He had forgotten, as stupid as that was, that it was him holding the thread, 
and who, in their right mind would want that?
No one
He knew.
But he still tried to fight,
not hard enough, of course,
he could have begged her, he could have taken her hand off his mouth and told her the truth.
Told her that he loved her,
from the start,
that he had been waiting for her his whole life,
that he couldn't live without her,
that he loved her more than anything,
more than life.
But he hadn't,
and that was because a part of him, if not all of him, already knew this was gonna happen.
Subconsciously, he knew,
and maybe that's why he wasn't nervous,
because he knew there was no chance, that this was too good for someone like him, too perfect,
and Spencer wasn't used to perfect, what he was used to, was this,
was not being enough,
because he simply wasn't.
So the fight he had put up was simply a farce to let himself know he had at least tried,
so that when he replayed the scene in his head for the millionth time just like he was doing now, he could at least tell himself he had tried, but that, as he knew, there was nothing to do.
Because once again,
someone had walked away,
and he had stood there and watched.
__ __ __
He had thought about not going to work, but when he turned his head to the right and saw his clock say 6 am, he decided he needed to get out, because if he had to spend even a minute more in his bed, laying on sheets still soaked with her sent he was never gonna get up again.
He hadn't undressed so he had just slipped his shoes on and walked out.
He didn't want to stay there anymore.
Too many memories,
not bad ones,
that's the problem,
to much hope
too many broken dreams.
As he walked he thought about it, really thought about it, not of how hurt he was or of the pit in his stomach, no, he had thought about it as if he was a spectator, watching what had happened from the outside.
He was used to this, he used to do it all the time when he was little, pretend it wasn't him living his life, but that he was just watching it from the stands, so at least whatever happened to him was just a show, a nothing, and he didn't need to be hurt or sad, because it wasn't him feeling those things, but someone else.
So, as the wind breezed through his hair, he had come to the conclusion that he had just gone through a loop.
He had reached again the initial situation,
they were friends.
He and Y/n, friends, just friends, as they'd always been, as they were meant to be, according to her.
And he had done that before, so he knew he could be, friends, just like he knew he could spend the rest of his life pretending he didn't want more,
so much more.
He had done it, so he could do it.
He had also realized that on one thing, she had been right.
He didn't wanna lose her either,
and even though, in his eyes, there was no possibility he'll ever leave her, he realized, that the possibility that the opposite could happen, was well higher.
He was Spencer Reid after all.
He had never been anyone if not himself,
and for that, he had been cursed.
He had to look on the bright side,
She was still there, not nearly as he wanted her to, but there nonetheless, with him.
__ __ __
"Good morning sweety pies" Garcia entered the conference room, all shiny and smiley, and Spencer just wanted to melt into the floor"Ready for a new case?"
"Morning baby girl" Derek smirked "You know I'm always ready"
"right" she nodded, "then we should get to it"
"uh-" JJ interrupted "hotch isn't here yet"
"Oh shoot," Garcia noticed "do we wait?"
"he's probably on his way" Emily said 
"Alright," she said, setting the remote on the table as she and JJ started talking 
"hey what's up man" he felt Derek's hand on his shoulder "you look... weird"
If there was one thing he didn't wanna do, was have this conversation.
"No, I'm good"
Derek frowned
"Are these the same clothes you were wearing yesterday?"
Shit
He glanced at them "uh- yes, I was late"
"mh" Derek hummed, a grin creeping up his face "didn't get much sleep last night, huh playboy?"
Spencer now not only wanted to melt into the floor, but into the earth's crust.
"what, you can tell me" he elbowed him " or don't" he raised his eyebrows, not wanting to intrude too much
"Just don't party too hard, kid" he chuckled, and spencer forced a smile, as he tried to think of what to say besides - can you please stop talking?-
"sur-" he had settled on, but Hotch's voice interrupted him
"Good morning"
"Good morning sir we were waiting for you" Garcia informed him
"Uh, yeah, You should start without me I just have to-" he glanced around the room, his eyes finding Spencer's "Reid, can I talk to you in my office?"
His heart had never gotten back up from his stomach, so, as much as he was confused, this was nothing compared to what he was already feeling.
"Sure" he nodded, getting up awkwardly in the silence to follow the man out of the room.
"what do you have to talk to me about?" he asked as Hotch started towards his office
"I'll explain inside" he nodded, opening the door for him.
He stepped into it, and as much as he thought the pit in his stomach couldn't get any deeper,
it did.
He had stopped breathing
"hi" 
y/n's voice echoed in his mind as if it was distant, and not right in front of him, sitting on a chair in front of Hotch's desk.
He turned to his boss without noticing how his mouth was slightly gaped.
"take a seat" he gestured, as he closed the door behind him.
His mind was blank, just like all the colors together create black, all the thoughts coursing through his mind turned to nothing.
He set down,
next to her,
next to her
Hotch cleared his throat "ok," he looked between the two of them.
"what's going on?" he heard himself ask, 
he had talked without even realizing it.
"well-"
Hotch seemed nervous, and he never was.
He cleared his throat again " y/n told me"
He creased his brows, his heart beating so fast he was certain everyone could hear it
"w-what do you mean?" Spencer turned to y/n and then his boss again, so many questions in his eyes.
"she's told me about you two"
"us two?" he turned to her again, and this time, he saw her, really saw her.
She looked worried, nervous as she answered
"us, spencer" she explained thinly
"but-"
but us doesn't exist
"I told him the truth"
He frowned again,
He felt as if every inch of his body was on edge
"the truth?"
He noticed her eyes unfocusing a moment before coming back to his, so many emotions under them he felt like he couldn't properly see them.
"I told him I want to be with you 
I told him I've wanted to,
for a very long time"
She paused, and Spencer now noticed how her eyes were glistening.
"Spencer"
she said
"I told him that I love you"
Spencer stopped breathing.
every part of his body stopped.
even time stopped, as he stared at her.
Had she said that?
Had she really just said what he thought?
was he dreaming?
Was he dead?
" You both know of the bureau's policy" Hotch spoke, but he didn't really listen, his mind was frozen
"I have to admit this is not ideal, but I won't have one of my best agents leave just because of it" 
what?
"what?"
" I came here to resign from the FBI" She murmured
"you- you can't"
"She won't need to" Hotch said " This is not the first time the bureau will turn a blind eye. I can pull some strings "
He sighed
" I will allow this"
Spencer, once again, felt like he just died.
" Hotch" y/n exclaimed incredulously "are you- are you serious?"
He nodded solemnly 
"This, however, cannot interfere with your work, you will have to sleep in separate rooms when we're on a case, and I'll send you the paperwork you'll have to fill in for HR" He listed
"of course" y/n immediately agreed
Hotch looked between you, something looking like contentment flashing beneath his eyes
"but other than that, I'm happy for you" a hint of a smile emerged on his lips "I can't say this was much of a surprise"
"ok, I'll give you some time now, but we need you in the conference room in 5" he pointed at Spencer, before getting up to the door.
Spencer could only nod, and Hotch took it as a yes, and walked out.
The silence was so heavy Spencer felt crushed.
he turned to her, and she was already looking at him.
"you-" He started, getting interrupted
"I'm sorry"
she got up
"I'm so so sorry Spencer"
her voice was weak, like it was about to crack
"I-I was awful and I made a mistake, and I understand if you won't forgive me, I was stupid and cruel, but you have to know that everything I said- I meant it. I love you Spencer, and I hate myself for having done that to you"
She paused to take a breath as he stood up too.
"and-and I didn't mean to tell him about everything, I just came here to resign because I wanted to be with you, or at least try if you had been willing, but then he asked why and I told the truth because there I thought there was no point in hiding it anymore "
"I'm sorry" her voice was a whisper now
"I'm so sorry Spencer, I-I-"a tear rolled down his cheek.
He got in front of her
"y/n-" he wiped the tear away
"I'm sorry" she repeated
"y/n, I love you" he smiled, a soft chuckle fleeing his mouth "I-I I love you, and I'm not mad, I could never be mad"
"y/n the moment I saw you I had forgiven you"
she raised her head to meet his eyes.
"I love you too" she sniffled " I was scared, I was afraid of losing you but then- the moment I left your apartment I realized I couldn't go back to what it was before, I realized how much I wanted this"
He smiled, sheepishly, like a teenager, and she joined him.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, and he placed his hands on her waist, both of their bodies feeling made for each other.
"I love you" she smiled, standing on her toes to ghost his mouth
"I love you" he kissed her,
all the life came back to his body, as everything set into place.
He beamed as he leaned away
"y/n" he said "you have no idea how long I've dreamed of this"
*Thank you so much to everyone who has read and enjoyed this series, you're amazing. that said, you'll never catch me writing a series again lol, too much commitment I definitely don't have*
previous part 
taglist
@jazzerbelle14 @nerdory10   @milivanili99   @cyb3rdollq  @ssababe​   @lou-the-confused-bisexual​ ​   @simpforspence​   @loviseamms  @gojutsu​ ​  @youbrokemelikeallyourpromises​   @baucriminalsstuff​     @fall-myriad​   @twelfthnightorwhatyouwill1998  @eevee0722​   @simrah1012   @queenofnothing07​   @ashray07   @wrenreid​    @moonmark98   @iloveyou-iknoww    @swxxtsour   @donttamethebeasts    @s1errasposts    @the-sun-died-out    @vthe​    @cherrypie5​    @hellooitsrose    @soundsprettyhumantome    @rrrogertaylor    @lilicy-secrets    @dankfarrick29    @lex13cm​    @zuckker-blog     @munson1968     @maybanksluvr    @halsteadssneakylink    @yourbloodyqueen​    @orangebitchsworld    @melinewton54     @mushy-mushroom04​    @killing-gremlin    @jaywinchestersalvatore    @fluffy-bnny    @r5court     @usuallyunlikelyfox​    @bella-columbus    @ineedsomezzz    @dellalyra    @classiclitfreak    @reidingspence    @l1lacthec0lor    @jaywinchestersalvatore    @mee22022    @lovejules888    @thornfield-blog    @instabull    @mspenguin99 @mokuflower @mommy-maia @bella-columbus @morningswewerehigh @mollenniumfalcon @lonewolf471  @fangirling-central 
181 notes · View notes
welcometololaland · 11 months
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WIP WORKING WEEK PART 2: PRODUCT PLACEMENT This is way more than the sentences I was supposed to do, but it's dialogue so I feel like I can get away with it. I'm also doubling this up as my (twenty) seven sentence Sunday. Thanks for the tags @freneticfloetry, @rosedavid @jesuisici33 @rmd-writes @three-drink-amy @alrightbuckaroo @lemonlyman-dotcom @strandnreyes @carlos-in-glasses and @heartstringsduet! I can't wait to dig into your snippets!
Carlos pauses. “Why do I get the feeling that you’re about to confess to doing something that you know I won't like?”
“Well—”
Carlos sighs deeply and pinches the bridge of his nose. “TK.”
“You can’t be mad, you don’t even know what it is yet,” TK protests. Carlos thinks he can hear Nancy snickering in the background of the phone call.
“It?” Carlos asks, shuffling into the kitchen, throwing a Nespresso pod in the machine and turning it on at the wall. He feels a little woozy after spending so much time asleep and wonders whether a coffee will make him feel better about this conversation. He loves TK so much it feels like his heart could burst, but the love of his life also spends a lot of time tap dancing on Carlos’ last nerve. 
“Okay, first of all,” TK insists. “It’s very small.”
“How small?” Carlos asks. “Like, Lou small? Or Buttercup small? Because sometimes you treat those two animals as if they’re the same size.”
TK scoffs. “Carlos, we have no idea how big Lou is now. He could be huge.”
“I doubt it,” Carlos says drily. “But we can go out to the Greenbelt and search for Godzilla if you like.”
“Okay, I meant huge for an alligator lizard. I think their maximum length is eight inches—”
“TK, what did you buy? It’s not…alive, is it?”
“Baby,” TK chides. “It’s super irresponsible to buy a pet without first consulting your partner. Unless you want to buy me a lizard, in which case you should just assume that the answer is yes—”
“You brought Lou home without consulting me!”
“Technically, I didn’t buy Lou because I found him in that guy’s leg.”
“That is not helpful.”
TK sighs. “Okay,” he admits. “I should have asked. But it all worked out for the best, right? We released Lou into the wild, and you got to finally redecorate the living room.”
“After I trashed it trying to find him,” Carlos says, rolling his eyes, but he can feel his resolve waning. TK has such a big and generous heart, something that Carlos loves intensely – even when it extends to reptiles. “Okay, come on. You need to confess before you get home or you’re going to be all funny.”
“What do you mean?” TK asks innocently.
“I mean, you’re going to simultaneously try to distract me with sex and a TV show we both know I don’t want to watch.”
“But the sex works, doesn’t it?” TK asks, his voice dropping to a whisper. In the background, Carlos hears Nancy make a retching noise.
“TK.”
“Fine,” TK relents. “I bought you something for work.”
Carlos pauses. “You know I can’t use costume handcuffs for work, right?”
TK practically chokes. “Mind out of the gutter please, Carlos,” he says. “I got you a desk vacuum.”
There’s a long pause, where Carlos tries to imagine how a vacuum cleaner is going to fit on a desk, much less what it is required for. The station has nightly cleaning and since the pandemic, each unit has been given a near-endless supply of anti-bacterial wipes which Carlos uses religiously on his office keyboard, even though he’s the only one who uses it.
“Thank you, babe,” Carlos says slowly. It’s not supposed to be a question, but it kind of sounds like one. “What’s a desk vacuum?”
“It’s like this mini vacuum that gets rid of all the crumbs and stuff on your desk,” TK explains calmly. “I bought one for Dad, too. He loves it.”
Carlos has heard those Freudian theories about marrying someone who subconsciously reminds you of your parent, but it still alarms him to realise TK considers him sufficiently similar to Owen that he buys them the same thing. 
“I’m a little concerned you’re starting to believe police officers eat doughnuts at their desk all day,” Carlos says weakly, trying to pass off his uncertainty as humour.
TK laughs. “Baby, I’ve seen your abs,” he quips. “Those are not made of doughnut.”
“The doughnuts never last long enough in this house for me to—”
“You do spend heaps of time at your desk though,” TK continues. “I thought a desk vacuum would be useful.”
Carlos frowns. “I do?” he asks, wondering where TK has plucked this idea from. In reality, Carlos does spend more time than he’d like to sitting down, but most of it is in a patrol car.
“You’re always complaining about the paperwork,” TK says mildly. “Right?”
“Right,” Carlos agrees slowly. “But it doesn’t mean that police work is a desk job.”
“I mean…it kinda is,” TK replies. “Not all the time. But you spend heaps of time inside.”
Carlos scoffs. “Are you saying that because the one time you’ve been inside the station you were handcuffed to my desk?”
“Very funny, Carlos,” TK replies drily. “Don’t get defensive because you spend way more time typing things on a computer than I do.”
“You do inventory all the time!”
“With a clipboard,” TK says hotly. “Standing up and waiting for the bell to ring.”
“Oh, when you’re not busy playing table soccer and cooking up four course meals?”
“I also do those things standing up,” TK points out. “And I don’t see you running into any burning buildings on the job.”
“Do not go there, TK Strand,” Carlos mutters. “You can’t seriously be starting a red versus blue argument with me.”
Pretty sure everyone has done this already but tagging @bonheur-cafe and @marjansmarwani just in case and @goodways because I know you love a good TK and Carlos argument dlfjlsdkjf.
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nerves-nebula · 7 months
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so, my original question was this:
how do you go about writing topics like abuse, sa, etc., because i had thoughts about adding these sort of things in a storyline of mine, but i'm not sure how i would do it without being seen as somehow offensive. i want to do it mainly for awareness purposes, definitely not to romanticize it or justify it, as well as vent a bit personally (thats more with the abuse topic though)
so i was just wondering how you think of it, is all. thanks!
this is really long and meandering so. under the cut. also, might be a lot of typos, i'm not re-reading all of this to make sure :P
i mean well. yknow. ok so like. i'm not really an expert here, cause I mainly write stuff how I'd want to read it, and there's a lot of people who do NOT want to read abuse stories the way that I write them and that's fine. me personally? I like getting into the graphic bits. I remember what happened to me, for the most part. I also like getting into the complicated feelings (like for example the weird kinks you can get from trauma) but I mostly avoid posting that stuff here because. well. because of a lot of reasons, mainly that people actually do not enjoy when abuse survivors aren't chaste about the ICKY parts of their abuse heahfshaf.
BACK TO THE POINT THO: the main thing that i've usually seen other survivors get annoyed at is the sa & abuse being used for shock and nothing else. like, the victims of the abuse not mattering or being used as fodder. and also, victims not having much of a life outside of their abuse.
I know that's rich for me to say cuz I can't stop abusing my characters and I tend to not have much time to do things other than what I'm REALLY interested in- so to a lot of you guys my characters can seem like they're kind of just going through it 24/7, but that's not really how I see them since y'know, I see the whole thing in my head.
but I've noticed that myself and others like it when abused characters also have like, other shit going on. imagine that, I know. A lot of people want characters who's abuse is kind of tangential to them. (not my preference, but this is something I've seen a demand for)
in a way I have a similar thing going on, though I frame it more as "let them get silly with it" hah. As in, I like when characters who are abused or sexually assaulted get to also be silly (editing this to be more clear: It's nice when a character experiences a full range of emotions & experiences. or has a normal day, or does things completely unrelated to their abuse. it feels jarring to some people but the reality of living with abuse is often jarring, as i'm sure you're aware. because one moment you're having a normal ass day at school or something and the next you're at home experiencing things that people consider too horrific to even talk to you about. so a kid hanging out with their friends being a normal silly kid can go a long way to making what happens to them feel more real, at least to me)
I also like it when abuse victims don't react in pretty ways to their abuse. when they get messy with it, when it makes them mean and preemptively lash out at people, when they fight back and aren't innocent. and maybe they never were innocent (which doesn't mean they deserved abuse, but a lot of people subconsciously believe that if you are a bad enough person then your abuse doesn't count or it doesn't matter as much)
one of my favorite characters when I was younger was (and still kinda is) Yuudai from Sakana. for a lot of the comic Yuudai was a genuinely mean person. Sakana is a comedy comic tho, so of course things don't get too dark for too long and people mostly ignored or just scowled at his jabs, but the main character was genuinely scared of him. So if you think about it, you really wouldn't wanna be around Yuudai irl because he was NOT fun or nice haha. long story short Yuudai's got some personal stuff going on, including (spoilers) an emotionally abusive ex who tells him on screen that no one else can stand being around him because he's so mean.
AND THE THING IS,, that's not entirely a lie??? like, it's a lie that no one else could ever love Yuudai, but it's not entirely untrue that Yuudai is kind of mean. which is what makes it effective. it also makes it clear that not all people who are mean are abusive. which i like.
OK THAT WAS A HUGE TANGENT so let me try to actually give some advice.
FOR ME, writing about abuse is akin to writing about, for example, race. in that you really do need to know why it's wrong to be racist in order to make an anti-racism story. You need to go deeper than just "we're all people" and really understand the malicious and insidious history of race science. you need to internalize that race, as it's thought of in modern day america, is NOT REAL. it's completely constructed. there is no genetic difference between people that you can figure out based on the color of their skin and their facial features.
you need to understand that all of that was made up and pushed by a lot of people to justify a lot of things. and you need to understand, at least generally, the state of various races oppression, and the histories there too.
it's like that, to me. which isn't even to say that you need to understand the exact histories, just the general mechanisms, y'know? (unless you're making a story about a specific kind of racism in which case you kind of do need to look into stuff. like, at least listen to activists and the like)
but like, you don't have to study every case of abuse to write about abuse haha. you just have to understand a lot of the contemporary issues abuse victims have. yknow, the reasons people get abused, the reasons people can't LEAVE abusive situations. how abusers get away with it. which is easy enough to do cuz the internet means you can listen to abuse victims by like, category or something. and that's another thing, not every kind of abuse is the same.
for me, I like expressing the feelings of abuse victims. especially parental relationships. including stuff like how much they might love or have loved their abuser. rage, pain, pleasure, adoration, helplessness, denial, the addictiveness of being given a sliver of praise, or the horror of living with a monster who does nothing but hurt you :D! the slow realization that someone who was supposed to love you absolutely does not. or at least, they don't love you in a way that's good.
umm this has all been very meandering and i'm not sure if its been helpful, so here's a very meandering bullet point list of things i try to do (these are NOT requirements for a good story or anything, they're just rules i follow for myself so I don't lose to the plot. you can and absolutely should do things outside of this these are my personal thoughts I'm spewing over here)
at no point should the narrative imply that the abuse was justified or necessary (for example, imagine a narrative where a magical child is abused and that abuse is said to be the reason they can control their magic instead of hurting people. in the broken earth trilogy, multiple characters with magic-earth abilities have their hands broken as children to prove they can control themselves. we're told this is for their benefit, but we later on see a small island that raises their magic babies just fine without hurting them, so the idea that this systemic abuse is necessary is disproven by the narrative. this is cause that's how it is IRL, corporal punishment has never made someone more disciplined or emotionally regulated and that's just a fact)
Focus on the abuser can be extremely minimal to extremely extensive. it really depends on the story you're telling, but how much you focus on the abuser vs the victim can majorly shift the tone & what the story is about so it's important to consider this going in (in Switch by A. S. King, the abusive sister who's fucked up the entire family isn't even named. She's a hole in the narrative. Switch is largely about taking the time to heal from something bad once it's over, so this make sense. in the Broken Earth trilogy, one of the main POV characters is both a victim and perpetrator of some pretty extreme abuse. I'd say that abuse wise, the broken earth trilogy is more about trying to fix things the best you can, moving on, and trying to be better, even if it hurts)
There are a lot of different ways to react to abuse and it will change you (I would recommend looking into different people's experiences, or common ways people react to abuse. a lot of people aren't aware they were abused until it's long over. or, if you're lazy like me, you can mostly just draw from your own experiences hah. but if you're gonna like, for example, write an entire cast of people who've been abused, it can be good to get more variety in there. some people react in ways that are completely incompatible with other people. which can be fun in fiction, cause then it gets messy :D)
What are the other environmental factors? (race, gender, class, sexuality, species, etc. these can all play a fun role in how someone reacts to being abused)
What's the point/Why does this matter/Why am I even making this? (I ask this about all my stories, sometimes it's just "because I want to share it" and sometimes it's like, "because I would want to read it" but it can also be more high concept, like for example, there are a lot of stories out there about the cycle of abuse and how abuse victims can end up reenacting things that happened to them because they've just internalized it as normal behavior.
don't forget to have fun :) (fictional characters are toys and if you're not getting silly with it in a fulfilling way then whats the point. loosen up a bit! it doesn't have to be a PSA!)
I would worry less about being offensive and more about being genuine tbh. really, even if i don't like the way abuse is written about sometimes, it hurts way more to see an author just using Tragic Shit as fodder. abused characters as nothing but place holder NPC's to be saved with no thought put into how they feel about it. that shit sucks.
if anyone else wants to add something more concise or important, or like, ACTUAL writing advice, PLEASE do. I'm only one person and I'm not even that good of a writer. i only write because if i don't then I'll die.
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cringe-but-proud · 5 months
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I just watched Bullet Train recently and I’m in love. I was wondering if you’re able to write a Lemon x fem!reader where basically Reader is one of those assassins coming on the train (like the wolf and the hornet) while going under the name The spider. But instead of reader trying to kill Ladybug and the twins. The reader is trying to stop them from killing each other but it’s just Reader and lemon bumping into each other a lot and having love at first sight 🤭 and every moment then keep bumping into each other, they just keep falling for the other.
OH MY GOD. I WANT HIM SO BAD...
Lemon x Fem!reader (Bullet Train)
A/n: This one's kind of long as hell, I can't lie. My requests are open (see pinned post for info)
WARNINGS: Cursing. That's it, I think 😛
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Why do you always get jobs like this? Jobs where there's some big, fucked up scheme going on, and you have to unfuck the whole thing. You're used to it, but it never gets less annoying.
Whatever. The sooner you get the job done, the sooner you get off this god-damned train.
You entered the train and walked from compartment to compartment, looking for one of your guys. Finally, you walked into a cart where you were immediately greeted by the sound of two British men arguing.
The twins.
You slowed down the pace of your steps as you walked by and tried to subtly look over at them. But, when looking over, you found that one of them was already looking at you.
You should've looked away. But, you couldn't. You'd only ever seen him in pictures, you didn't think he'd be just as good looking in real life. Your eyes locked on to his and time seemed to slow down. You felt your heartbeat quicken and-
"Shit!" You tripped over your own feet after a man bumped into you, not bothering to apologize or even acknowledge the fact that he'd almost knocked you over. You managed to catch yourself, shooting a glare at the man who was already walking into the next compartment.
"Jesus Christ! Fucking asshole didn't even say sorry!"
"Are you alright, love?"
Fuck.
You looked back at the twins and froze up for a second. He was looking right at you. Is it cliche to feel like you could get lost in his eyes? Yes. Yes, it is.
"... I'm fine." You managed to speak before regaining your composure and quickly walking away.
Holy FUCK. That couldn't have been worse.
You were in the luggage compartment, trying to calm yourself down.
For the love of God, you're a grown woman who does illegal shit for a living, WHY are you acting like a middle school girl with a crush?!
While in the middle of scolding yourself, something caught your eye.
Silver briefcase. Train sticker on the handle.
You were surprised that you'd managed to find the thing almost immediately. After a brief check to make sure no one outside of the luggage compartment was watching, you grabbed the briefcase and stuffed it in your bag.
Great. Now all you had to do was stop three grown men from killing each other.
Great.
It had been hours now. Hours without getting off this train. You sort of felt like you were going crazy.
Things were already getting chaotic. The son of the white death was dead, which couldn't be good for the twins. And there was a dead body near the back of the train wearing a bloodied white suit. You didn't even know how that happened.
At least you still had the briefcase.
You were sitting in an empty part of the train, going over the current plan that you had in your head when you heard the doors slide open.
You glanced up and-
Fuck.
One of the twins. The hotter one.
You immediately whipped out your phone and pretended to be busy on it. You thought that if you were focused on something other than the man, he wouldn't acknowledge you. But, of course things couldn't be that simple.
"Excuse me, miss."
Inside your head, you screamed. But, on the outside you casually looked up from your phone.
"Yeah?"
"Have you seen a bloke walking around with a sliver briefcase? Train sticker on the handle?"
You subconsciously brought your bag closer to yourself.
"He's got nerdy glasses, a stupid hat?" The man continued.
You tilted your head innocently. "A silver case?"
"Yeah."
"I don't think I've seen anything like that, sorry. Why do you ask?" This was your current plan: Keep him talking. The longer you kept him talking to you, the longer you'd be able to prevent a fight.
"Oh, uh..." The man trailed off. "He's with me. I've gotta grab something from the case, but he wandered off."
"Oh." You nodded. "I'll be sure to keep a look out. You said there's a train sticker on the handle?"
"Yup."
"Why's that?"
"Well, I put it there so that we'd be able to spot it."
"You just had a train sticker laying around?"
"I like trains." He shrugged.
Keep him talking. "Oh. I do too! My dad was a train conductor. So, I grew up going on a lot of train rides, I really wanted to be a train conductor too, so I learned about pretty much every kind of train you could think of," This was all untrue. You didn't like trains. Your dad was a dentist. But, again, you needed to keep him talking. Now you were just listing different train related topics and waiting for something to stick.
"I watched a lot of Thomas the tank engine-"
"Great show." He interjected.
There it is. "Oh, yeah. I was absolutely obsessed with it when I was little. Did you watch it too?"
"I still watch it."
"Oh?" You chuckled. "Um, yeah. That's-"
"I mean, because it's very nostalgic for me, a very comforting show. Plus, it's better than some shows they're putting out nowadays, y'know? It's got a lesson, it's got good characters, it's-"
He went on rambling. You noticed that he sounded... Nervous? Embarrassed?Flustered? Was he getting flustered while talking to you? Oh. Oh. This changes things.
"I think it's endearing." You said.
"What? Watching Thomas?"
"Yeah." You shrugged. This wasn't necessarily a lie. You did think the fact this man, who was supposed to be intimidating, watched and enjoyed a children's show was quite charming.
"That's... Thank you. I've never had anyone say that about.. You know, watching Thomas the tank engine."
"There's a first time for everything, right?" You smiled.
"Yeah, I suppose there is." He bit the inside of his cheek and averted his gaze away from you momentarily. "I should probably be going now, I've still gotta find my case and-"
He continued talking as you noticed the other guy. The guy the twins thought had killed the son and stolen their case. He seemed to be looking around the luggage compartment, probably for the case that was still stuffed into your bag. You couldn't let the man in front of you see him. Not if you wanted to prevent them fighting each other until they were both black and bruised.
"But, I did enjoy talking to you, so-"
You interrupted the man. "Hey, can I get your number or something?"
He was visibly surprised and was quiet for a second before nodding. "Yes. Yes, I can- I'll give that to you."
You handed him your phone and watched as he punched in his number.
If you were being honest, asking for his number definitely wasn't your last resort. You were actually glad you'd gotten the opportunity to ask, because this guy was very handsome and very charming.
He finished punching in his number. You glanced over to the luggage compartment and the other man was gone.
Thank God.
You looked back to him and smiled. "Thanks. I'll text you later." You promised.
He smiled, a smile you could tell was genuine, and nodded. "I'll look forward to that."
With that he walked away. You sighed in relief and relaxed into your seat. After a moment you looked down at your phone. He'd saved himself in your phone as a train emoji. You couldn't help but smile.
This whole thing was starting to feel less chaotic and-
IS THAT A FUCKING SNAKE?!
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shmowder · 17 days
Text
Certain characters that I feel like would be good at accommodating a reader who struggles with chronic pain, especially headaches, are:
Daniil Dankovsky
Most doctors are skeptical of patients, fearing they exaggerate their discomfort, especially when it comes to people with chronic pain.
Dankovsky is not most doctors.
You know your body and limit better than him, so when you complain about your pain levels getting unbeatably high, he takes your word for it.
His room in the still waters is very quiet and dark. You're free to use it to your heart's content until your state gets more manageable. He'll prescribe you relief medicine and bring it to you alongside some water without any fuss. If he happens to stay in the room too, he puts extra effort not to bother you or make any noise.
Yulia Lyuricheva
She's in the same figurative boat as you, with her leg, migraines, and general being as a whole. Yulia recognises the signs of fatigue in you before you realise it. She is incredibly sensitive when it comes to deducing when your pain is starting to act up based on your subconscious behaviour. And therefore, is prepared ahead of you.
The benefit of living in the trammel is how quiet and empty a library tends to be, not that people in this town are big readers.
She'll hand you one of her favourite books. If you're not in the mood for ready, she pats the empty spot next to her on the couch and invites you to lay your head on her shoulder and relax by her side. If massaging the pained like your back or leg might relieve the pain, she would oblige. She'd inquire if you're fine with her smoking in the room, offering you one, too.
Katerina Saburova
Have her morphine.
No, seriously, take it. She doesn't mind, and she doesn't care if you have a prescription or not. You're clearly in pain, and her fragile heart can't stand seeing you suffer like this.
Especially since she's been there, too. When the anxious hollows of her mind were too consuming to function, when only screaming at the ninth doctor summoned from the outer town in a row seemed to finally convince them of how real her suffering is.
At least have a nap? Her bed is very comfortable and no one dares disturb her room. She'd bring you a plate of fruits to eat after you wake up, cutting them up and preparing it herself. Watching over you sleeping, hoping that her presence would at least keep the bad dreams away.
Made this while waiting for my pain meds to be absorbed and worked into my bloodstream bc this migrane is killing me rn.
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pumpkinbirth · 1 year
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Build a birth, you say? 🤰🏽2️⃣🚎🩲🧠
"Fuck, it's hot." I murmured to myself, using my sleeve to wipe the sweat from my forehead. Even with the AC circulating through the bus it didn't seem to help.
I'd been feeling like this all day, sweaty and crampy and short of breath. Normally I thrived during the summer, but things were different this time around, and I didn't know why. People were being weird around me today too, asking things like if I was alright or if I needed to call anyone. Again and again I'd tell them I was fine, I was just hot and tired from work. One woman had looked at me really funny when I said that, asking if I 'should really be working right now'. I was a little short with her then, saying yes, adding that just because it's hot doesn't mean I should call out.
After she'd scoffed and gotten off at her stop nobody else had come around to bother me, which was a relief. It was bad enough that my stomach felt like it was stuck in the worlds worst core workout without having people come make me self conscious about it. I frowned as I leaned back against my seat, subconsciously sitting with my legs apart. The dress I'd opted for to deal with the heat was cute, but it didn't do much to hide how my stomach had rounded out over the last few months. I tried not to be too worried about it; now that it was summer I'd get a little more active and it'd be gone eventually, but still...I'd never put on this much weight this fast before.
"Hnnh..." I shifted uncomfortably where I sat, my stomach tense as that uneasy feeling came over me again. I couldn't even begin to guess what was causing it, but the way it was nearly constant was really bothering me. I tried to distract myself by looking out the window; my ride home was always long so I tried to enjoy the scenery to cope. But even that didn't seem to help, and I hissed out again as I felt that persistent pressure shifting, building...
There was a pop...then a splash.
"O-oh fuck...!" I barely had time to register what had happened when another cramp gripped me, and I pressed a hand to my mouth hard to muffle myself from anymore outbursts. The lower half of my dress and my seat were drenched, and I flushed with shame as I felt more liquid still dripping out of me, soaking my panties. My only social saving grace was that no one else was left on the bus by now, and the driver obviously hadn't heard anything.
"What the f-fuck is going o-oohh!!" This one fucking hurt, and I instinctively held my palms to either side of my stomach. "F...feels like I need to--!" I stammered to myself, trying desperately to wrap my head around what was happening, why it felt like I had to push. Desperate for any sort of relief I tried to listen to my body, my hands still holding my stomach as I bore down. What the fuck was going on, what was coming out of me?? Whatever it was I could feel it straining against the fabric of my ruined panties, my eyes wide with confusion as I felt my cunt being stretched wide.
"Please g-get out pleasepleaseplease...!!" I sobbed as quietly as I could manage, the pain reaching it's absolute peak. Hurriedly I pressed my hand over my mouth again, screaming into it as my panties bagged out with...something. Pulling them aside I felt down and retrieved what had been the source of all my discomfort, and my eyes widened.
"I...I-I was having a baby....?" I whispered, my breath ragged as I held it close. My mind raced as everything clicked, the reality setting in. How could I have not known? Why hadn't anyone brought it up to me?
...why was my belly cramping again?
"O-oh god," I whimpered, my breaths becoming panicked again. "I-I can't again, please...!" Tears ran down my face as I felt the contraction intensify, that same pressure was returning, and my only choice was to push. Now that one baby had already passed through, it's sibling was able to progress much faster. I barely managed to use my free hand to try and hold my panties to the side before I felt that burning stretch once more, my pussy stretching around the second baby's head.
"Ffffuck, it h-huuurts...!!" I sobbed, hardly caring if the driver could hear me now. The pain was still just as intense as it was the first time, so much so that I didn't even register the bus pulling over.
By the time the driver had parked I'd screamed the head out fully, and by the time he managed to find where I was sat he stood frozen in shock, watching as I tried to guide and push the rest of my baby out. At last I moaned with relief, my cunt gushing with more fluid as I delivered the rest of it's body, shuddering as I finally held both of my surprise twins to my chest.
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I'm writing a fanfic centered around Wally Linda Irey and Jai, but I can't find any comics where Irey and Jai have like. Actual personalities lmao. I've found like one where Wally helps Jai use his powers without being in extreme pain but other than that they just seem like Typical Comic Book Kids. Ik plenty about the rest of the FlashFam but for some reason Irey and Jai aren't like. Given personalities from what I can tell? Do you have any suggestions?
I'm not really sure what you have read but the Wild Wests established their personalities fairly well. Adams run has also done that.
Irey is a lot like her father. A lot like her father. She's quick to anger and even quicker to lash out. Unlike Wally at that age, her favorite weapon isn't her fists but her tongue. That kid can be mean when she's mad. Irey has an almost teenaged level of sarcasm and sass up her sleeve at all times.
Not to say that she isn't nice as well. She's extremely friendly and outgoing. She puts herself out there and makes friends in a snap. Again... she's a lot like her father. 100% full throttle into whatever emotion she's feeling at the time.
And yeah, beyond that she's a pretty typical speedster child. ADHD to the max. Wants to be a hero and save people even though she's like 9. Dreams of being the Flash's sidekick. Absolutely adores the Flash (Wally). Again, think young KF Wally to get Irey's personality. Even down to the 'wants to be smart about it but is still impulsive as fuck' thing. Irey is 100% the kid with the plan. She thinks things through. She also does things without thinking. No, they aren't mutually exclusive. She has ADHD.
Now Jai.
Jai is a good mix of his parent's personalities. Think 'Blue Valley' era Wally and 'pre dating Wally' Linda. Jai is shy and withdrawn. He prefers solitary activities like journaling, reading and playing videogames. When he's excited he can be hyperactive but he isn't really 'active' the way Irey is. He doesn't have an unlimited amount of energy to burn, just normal kid energy.
Jai is calmer. Personality wise and in general. He lets things simmer. He mulls things over and thinks about things. He is slow to change his emotions. Stubborn even. Jai's baseline is 'annoyed and snappy with Irey' or 'vulnerable shy child emerges from his shell to speak to his parents'.
He's a bit of a lonely kid. Not that you would pick up on that around his family. But at school or at the park? Jai doesn't know how to make friends with other children.
When he's with Irey, he's fine but Jai isn't very functional alone. Despite how much he says that he resents Irey, he's extremely codependent. I can understand his perspective. She annoys him but she's also always been there for him. She's the only one who understands him and she was quite literally the only child he had met until he was seven years old. And then he only started going to school at eight. So he didn't really get to develop his social life beyond Irey.
Jai compares himself a lot to Irey. She's the perfect golden child. Superspeed, extremely social, smart, ect. Jai envies her. He wants her powers, her friends and her grades. He was extremely grouchy and depressed when he didn't have powers because it exacerbated this comparison. He's a little bit better now. A little bit.
That's not to say that he hates Irey. He doesn't. They're siblings and they'd do anything for each other. They are extremely protective of their twin (Irey lied to Jai about their illness being fatal to spare his feelings, Irey comforted Jai when he found out, Irey had been subconsciously sharing her powers with Jai, Irey took them back when she found out it was hurting him, Irey gave Jai her powers again when he asked, Jai saved Irey from kidnappers solo, Jai saved Irey from the blowback in OMW, ect, ect) They just also annoy the absolute hell out of each other.
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