#sigh. anyway. thinking thoughts. as usual

[meadowfics]

tingled limbs

cho hyun ju x f!taekwondo!reader

synopsis: what is better than one girlfriend who is amazing at taekwondo? two girlfriends who are amazing at taekwondo!

warnings: 18+ since there is one sexual fantasy, but no smut!! no SQ. graphic descriptions of fighting injuries are mentioned.

being taekwondo powerhouses, both you and hyunju are.

however, your paths to mastery are worlds apart. hyunju's skills come from the military. since she was eighteen, far before her transition, she learned taekwondo before rising up the ranks.

by the time she was a first class sergeant, her kicks were silencing a room of recruits.

you’ve been at it since you were a kid, breaking boards with tiny fists before you could even tie your colored dobok properly.

your shared apartment with your lover tells the story of your talents...hyunju’s military medals are pinned neatly on a corkboard, all precision and order, while your world championship medals spill out of a shoebox under the coffee table.

it is a chaotic pile of gold, silver, and bronze, some tangled in ribbons, others dented from being tossed in after a win.

one evening, you catch hyunju on the couch, a wine in hand, staring at that box like it’s holds the worlds secrets. she’s holding a gold medal from your barcelona win in 2017, her fingers tracing the edge.

“babe, how do you just… leave these in a box?” she asks, her voice caught between awe and disbelief.

“this is from a world championship, and it’s just… sitting here with some loose change?”

you grin, flopping beside her and stealing a sip of her white wine.

“what am i supposed to do, frame every single one? we’d need a bigger apartment.” you nudge her shoulder, teasing, “besides, you’ve got your own shiny badges, sergeant. don’t act like you’re not a badass.”

hyunju blushes, her usual stoic vibe softening.

“mine are different. they’re… duty. yours are art.” she holds up the medal, the ribbon dangling. “you should display these. they’re you.”

you laugh, leaning into her, “if i put them all up, you’d never find the remote again. too much bling.”

you’ve been dying to go one-on-one with hyunju since you moved in together.

the thought of sparring with hyunju...both of you at your peak...sounds like pure adrenaline. maybe, its your hormones talking as well. one of your fantasies is having your girlfriend pin you as she drills into you.

anyways....you can already see it. the gym, the mats, the two of you circling, kicks flying like a dance.

unfortunately, hyunju shuts it down every time, her face getting all flustered like you’ve asked her to do something embarrassing.

one morning, you’re stretching in the living room, your black dobok a bit wrinkled from the laundry basket, and you try again.

“come on, hyunju,” you say, doing a dramatic high kick that nearly tips you over.

“one round. you and me. let’s see if a sergeant can keep up with a world-class spinner.”

she’s at the kitchen counter, sipping coffee, and nearly chokes.

“absolutely not,” hyunju says, eyes dodging yours, “i’m not fighting you, y/n.”

“it’s not fighting, it’s sparring,” you correct, catching yourself before you fall.

“come on, babe. scared i’ll win?” she rolls her eyes, but a smile tugs at her lips.

“you’re ridiculous. and no, i’m not scared. i just…” she pauses, setting her mug down, “i don’t want to hurt you.”

you burst out laughing, doubling over.

“hurt me? hyunju, i’ve been kicked in the ribs by girls twice my size in tokyo and had my teeth knocked in by others in moscow. i think i can handle you.” she crosses her arms, leaning against the counter, her expression stubborn but soft.

“it’s different, okay? you’re not some random opponent. you’re… you. i’d feel weird.”

you pout, dropping onto the couch with an exaggerated sigh.

“fineeee,” you drawl, “you’re no fun, sergeant. i bet i’d have you on the mat in ten seconds flat.”

hyunju raises an eyebrow, grinning.

“ten seconds? you’re dreaming, champ.” she walks over, ruffling your hair, “keep talking big, and i might just change my mind.”

even if she won’t spar, hyunju’s admiration for you is obvious. you catch her watching old videos of your matches on her phone, eyes glued to the screen as you land a perfect roundhouse kick.

one night, you come home from practice, sweaty and beat, to find her on the couch with her laptop open, rewatching your 2022 world championship final.

“are you… studying me?” you tease, kicking off your shoes and flopping beside her. she doesn’t flinch, still focused on the screen where you’re dodging a strike with inhuman grace.

“you’re insane,” she mutters.

“the way you move… it’s like you’re dancing with your opponent and not fighting.” your cheeks heat up, caught off guard.

“says the woman who could probably take down an entire platoon with one kick.”

she looks at you, her expression soft.

“i’m serious, y/n. you’re incredible. i’ve seen a lot of fighters, but you’re something else.”

you don’t know what to say, so you kiss her cheek, quick and playful.

“you’re just saying that ‘cause you’re stuck with me.”

“maybe,” she teases, pulling you closer, her arm around your lower waist as her nose pokes yours, “but i’m not complaining.”

since hyunju won’t spar, you find other ways to share your mutual bond.

you start “technique tuesdays,” taking turns teaching each other your favorite moves in the living room, coffee table pushed aside and you make sure that your two cats are in another room.

one tuesday, you’re showing her a flashy spinning heel kick you perfected years ago.

“okay, your turn,” you say, hands on hips, panting.

“show me that military precision you’re always bragging about.” hyunju smirks, stepping into the center of the room. her stance is sharp, controlled, and she nails a double knife-hand block followed by a low kick so precise it could’ve been measured with a ruler.

you whistle, impressed.

(a/n: upstair neighbor activites LMAOO)

“damn, babe,” you say while clapping, “you’re so sexy and its making me look bad.”

“please,” she scoffs, brushing hair from her face, “I think you’d eat me alive in a real match.”

you grin, stepping closer until you’re inches apart.

“then let’s find out. one round. no holding back.” you mumble against hyunju's soft lips. you nearly kiss them but hyunju groans.

the woman's grain turns into laughter, pushing you away gently.

“you’re relentless, y/n.” “and you love it,” you shoot back, winking.

she doesn’t deny it, just pulls you into a hug, her chin on your head.

“maybe i do,” she murmurs, “but i’m still not fighting you.”

“whateverrrrr. fine,” you mumble into her shoulder, smiling.

you’ll get her on the mat someday.

for now, having her gentle warmth is satisfying enough.

masterlist

[holdinsteddie]

prompt: scarf

(for @miss-bushido , originally posted on bsky here)

[cw: omegaverse]

Okay, so.

The thing is— well. Eddie doesn’t really know what the thing is, is the thing.

Let’s backtrack: Eddie is an omega. Not a very typical one, mind you, but he is one and actually likes being one, despite what others might think.

He loves nesting and scenting his friends and making people feel welcomed and loved. Yes, he can have a prickly exterior and has been known to growl or hiss should the situation call for it (and sometimes when it doesn’t), but the fact of the matter is he’s actually very soft and squishy. A melty-ball of tender omega goop wrapped up in a spikey metal-head exterior. He can be multidimensional, okay?

Anyway. Back to backtracking:

Eddie is an omega.

Steve Harrington is also an omega, much to the surprise of basically all of Hawkins when he’d first presented.

Eddie had been surprised too, until he actually got to know Steve after going through Literal Hell™️ together.

What better pack bonding than defeating an evil inter-dimensional wizard that looks like the human(?) embodiment of an STD, right?

Eddie learned that while he loved being an omega and that it fit him in a way that worked for him, Steve seemed born to be an omega.

Yeah, he could be bitchy, but he loved and cared for the pack’s pups with all the love of the force of 500 moms, give or take. He was like, the epitome of Omega Mom. Always making sure that everyone was properly scented and well fed and had unlimited access to the pack nest he’d set up in his house. And during the winter, he was wrapping everyone up in scent-thick winter gear.

The pups (re: Mike) had complained exactly one (1) time about it. Steve hadn’t said anything, but had looked so sad that Robin had growled in the way that only pissed-off alphas can and had scared the shit out of everyone present. (Eddie included).

Anyway, sorry, keep getting distracted. All of this to say: Eddie is confused.

Because Eddie is an omega, and Steve is an omega, and if it were anyone else, Eddie would think that he maybe possibly might be… being… courted?

Because, that— that’s what it’s starting to feel like.

It had started a few weeks ago, when Steve had wrapped a scarf around his neck before sending him off to play with the pups in the snow. It was thick and warm, a deep black color with delicate silver accents only visible when you look closely. It was beautiful and had smelled so strongly of Steve’s woodsmoke-and-basil scent that he had kept his nose buried in it the entire time he’d worn it.

And if he’d sighed despondently when he’d hung it back up in Steve’s coat closet, that was between him and God.

(And maybe Max. She’d given him a knowing smirk that had drastically increased his blood pressure.)

Which is why he was surprised when, a few days later, he’d finished up his shift at the shop and walked out to his van only to find that same scarf wrapped around the driver’s side mirror.

He’d stared at it for a moment before slowly approaching and carefully unwrapping it.

And because he was a weak, weak man, he’d immediately brought it up to his nose and inhaled deeply. God, he loved Steve’s scent so much — it made him think of dinners cooked over a fire, hearty and warm and home.

Eddie hadn’t thought about it much at the time, and had brushed the sudden re-appearance of the scarf as Steve being extra thoughtful and doing rounds on the pack.

Eddie had worn it home (and maybe had snuggled it a bit, shut up Wayne) and then the next day he’d made sure to drop it back off at Steve’s.

But then it had reappeared the next day, this time at the coffee shop waiting for him at his usual spot.

And it kept reappearing, anywhere and everywhere, no matter how many times he returned it to Steve’s.

Which is how we get to now, with Steve standing in Eddie’s room, just outside his nest with an angry pout on his face and his hands on his hips, and Eddie having no idea what the fuck is going on.

“Why won’t you accept my courting gift?”

Eddie understands each of the words Steve said individually, but he can’t for the life of him comprehend what Steve is actually saying to him. “…What?”

Steve huffs before holding out the scarf he’d apparently been holding the whole time.

The familiar black wool with the silver thread causes Eddie’s heart to skip a beat or three, and all Eddie can do is stare at it. Somewhere in the back of his mind, a part of him is screaming courting gift?? cOURTING GIFT??!! on repeat.

“What.” He gives himself a mental pat on the back for actually being able to get a single coherent word out.

The hands holding the scarf drop a little. “Look, I just—“ Steve starts, and Eddie tears his gaze from the scarf to Steve’s face.

He’s shocked to see that Steve looks… nervous, but not in a good way. “Is it— Do you— Do you not like the gift? Because I can get you something different. I’d already started making this before I’d thought to ask Robbie what I should get you but she said you’d lo— you’d like it and I thought— I just—“

Steve takes a deep breath and Eddie thinks he’s forgotten how to breathe entirely. Pinching the bridge of his nose, Steve keeps his eyes closed as he quietly continues, “I just need to know if you’re, if you’re rejecting the gift or if you’re rejecting me.”

A wounded noise punches itself out of Eddie, and before he can think, he’s tackling Steve into his nest.

Steve goes down with an oof but otherwise doesn’t resist as Eddie begins to shuffle him and his nest around until Steve is at the center, surround by all the softest and most comfortable parts of Eddie’s nest.

“Eddie?”

“Steve.” Eddie cradles Steve’s face between his palms and looks down into beautiful, confused hazel eyes. “Stevie, baby, honey, I am so, so fucking stupid.”

“Hey,” Steve retorts, brows furrowed, and Eddie wants to consume him whole.

“No, shut up. I’ve been stupid, Stevie, so stupid. You wanna know how stupid?” Steve opens his mouth but Eddie doesn’t let him answer. “I had no idea you were trying to court me.”

The way Steve freezes underneath him would be comical if Eddie didn’t feel like he was about to vibrate out of existence.

Steve blinks at him. Eddie blinks back.

“…you really didn’t know?” Steve looks so genuinely perplexed that Eddie can’t help the hysterical laugh that barks out of him.

“Didn’t have a fuckin’ clue, sweetheart.”

Steve blinks again, and his face smooths out. “Oh.” Then Steve looks up at Eddie through his lashes and Eddie wants to launch himself into the sun. “So, if I tried to give you the gift now…”

Between one blink and the next, Eddie grabs the scarf and wraps it around his neck way too many times. “Steven Harrington I am never taking this off ever again.”

Forget launching himself into the sun, all he needs to do is look at the way joy blooms in Steve’s expression to feel like he’s on fire. “Yeah?” Steve breathes.

Eddie nods vigorously, and because he feels so happy he could float, he flops over on top of Steve and attaches himself like an octopus.

“You’d better court the hell out of me, Harrington, ‘cause I’m gonna court your ass off.”

Steve laughs, and Eddie can’t wait to never get tired of the sound.

send me a 📝 and a one-word prompt and i will try and write a lil microfic for you!

[madam-herta]

💚 A Dragon's Treasure 💚

💚 Dan Heng/Imbibitor Lunae x GN!Reader

💚 1.0k Words

💚 Summary: Items of yours have been going missing lately, and at first you thought nothing much of it, and that you'd find your things again at some point. But you never did, and when your favorite shirt goes missing that does it! So you ask for help from the other Express Members about all your missing items. When you go to ask Dan Heng though, you find out something that you wouldn't have expected.

💚 A/N: Guys, don't worryI 'm still an HSR account despite all of the K-Pop Demon Hunters related posts lately lol. This has been idea I've had for AGES but hey I finally wrote it yay! It's inspired by this fanart by @pofusoup . Dividers by @enchanthings-a . Enjoy!

There is one habit about dating Dan Heng that is both really cute yet annoying at the same time. It starts off innocently enough not long after you and him started dating, you'd notice an item of yours randomly go missing like a piece of jewelry or a book and would search all of your room to find it. Though no matter how much you looked, you could not find your stuff, so you just assumed you'd misplaced it and it'd turn up when you least expect it. Yet they never did, and more items of yours would disappear without a trace. It was getting frustrating, that was for sure! The last straw though was when your favorite shirt went missing.

Enough was enough, so you asked the other Express members if they've maybe seen your stuff, but nothing. You still needed to ask Dan Heng though, and surely he could've helped you - he was the brains that held up March, the Trailblazer, him, and you together - so you found yourself entering his room ready to ask him for help when you stopped in your tracks. Dan Heng wasn't organizing the Archives like he usually was, instead, you found him in his little bed, curled up in his Vidyadhara form with all your lost items! Before you entered, he was dozing in the treasure trove he created of all your missing personal belongings, your shirt (the item that set this all off in the first place) was gently held into his chest. But now, he laid there staring at you, the sleepiness he was trying to shake off evident in his eyes.

“Y/N?” Dan Heng asked as he pulled himself up to his elbows. “What are you doing here?”

“I was going to ask you if you've seen my stuff around but clearly you have.” You said as you walked up and sat down next to him in a space that wasn't covered in trinkets. “What are you doing with my stuff? And why are you in your Vidyadhara form?”

He sank back down, a sheepish look on his face as he avoided your eyes. “It's a bit hard to explain,” he muttered, his face red at being caught like this. His eyes met yours again, taking in your tilted head before sighing. “But you deserve an explanation anyway.”

You silently watched as Dan Heng ran his fingers through the fabric of your shirt, touching it as if it was made out of gold instead of cotton, wondering what was it that had him like this, before he spoke, so softly you almost didn't realize he started speaking.

“It's an ancient habit of the Vidyadhara that when they have a lover, a Vidyadhara takes things of theirs that remind them of their loved one. It's kind of an… animalistic instinct.”

“Oh…”

Dan Heng still avoided your gaze, his face now buried in his pillow, worried at what you had to say about this secret of his. He kept playing with your shirt, silently cussing at himself for secretly taking your stuff when he knew better before he felt your fingers tucking a strand of his hair behind his pointed air. He looked up to see you tenderly gazing at him, a small smile on your face instead of the annoyed or even anger that he was expecting.

“Really? Is that it?” You giggled. “ That's actually pretty sweet~”

“But I do have to ask, why couldn't you at least ask?”

“I thought you'd think it was weird, that it was silly to ask you for something so selfish.” Dan Heng replied, sitting up to finally meet your eyes, letting go of your shirt and putting it to the side.

“I mean, it's definitely not normal.” You admitted, “But it's not silly. Though, I would like my stuff back, as much as I would love to leave it with you.”

“Right,” he said, looking around at all the items he'd have to give back. “Let me get them for you.”

You grabbed his arm before he could get up. “Wait a minute. You said you took my stuff because it reminds you of me right?”

“Yeah?” Dan Heng turned to you.

“So, wouldn't the thing that reminds you most of me be me?”

“What are you trying to say?”

You hooked your hands behind his neck, moving closer to him until you were nearly on his lap, Dan Heng's hands instinctively finding a place on each side of your waist. “What if instead of taking my stuff, you take me? Wouldn't that be better?”

A small blush crept up on his cheeks. “Would that really be okay?”

“Of course it would! You're my boyfriend aren't you? If it helps, then I'd love to spend more time with you.” You affirmed, cupping the side of his face. “Besides, it'd be a win-win for the both of us. I get to keep my things and you get me any time you want.”

Dan Heng gave you a soft smile before tackling you into a hug, the force bringing the two of you down into his futon, his tail loosely wrapping around your leg as he ghosted his lips on your neck and breathed in your scent. His hands tightened around you as he listened to your heart beat and the quiet sound of your shared breaths.

“My treasure” he murmured, placing a chaste kiss over your heart.

“Is this better then?” You asked, stroking his hair as he let out a content sigh.

“Yes” He stated simply.

“That's good. That means I can definitely take stuff back now.” You said, earning a soft laugh from Dan Heng.

“Don't worry. I'll help you with that. Just…let me hold you a bit more.” His tail moving up to your waist at his words.

So you stayed there, holding onto Dan Heng while he quietly mumbled praises into your skin, the way you were so lovely, and how he will protect no matter what. Being surrounded by your stuff was nice, but that was nothing but a reminder of the true treasure he loved.

[storiesbyshadow]

It's The Little Things

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Rating: Mature

Tags: Slight Angst if you squint, Fluff, Secret Admirer, and honestly I think that's it. Let me know if I missed one.

Word Count: 500+

Written For: @julybreakbingo

Square Filled: N2 - Secret Admirer

Dividers By: Bucky Divider - @super-marvel-dc and Support Divider - @cafekitsune

Bucky Barnes wasn’t used to kindness. Not the kind that came wrapped in ribbon and hope.

It started with a mug.

Left on the shared Avenger’s kitchen counter, it was plain black with white letters: “I Like My Coffee Like I Like My Past: Behind Me.” The first time he saw it, Bucky blinked in surprise. A sticky note was attached.

"Thought you’d get a kick out of this. No one said healing couldn’t come with caffeine." -A Friend

He washed the new one and used it anyway.

He looked around the kitchen, half-expecting someone to jump out and confess, but the room was empty. He hadn’t told anyone, but the old mug he usually used had cracked last week.

Was this just a coincidence?

The next week, a small potted succulent appeared on his windowsill in his room. Another note lay beside it.

“Even shadows deserve sunlight. Don’t forget to open the blinds.”

He stared at the plant for a long time. It was hardy, low maintenance, and something that could survive even if neglected for a while. Somehow, that felt...familiar.

More gifts followed. A first edition of The Hobbit that he mentioned in passing during a conversation with Sam. A pack of old vinyl records he thought no one cared about. A handmade bracelet woven in blue and silver was tucked neatly into his locker one afternoon. And as always, there was a note. Never signed, never a clue to who was behind them. Just warm, simple words that always managed to touch the parts of Bucky he kept hidden.

He didn’t know how to react.

The Winter Soldier had never gotten gifts. James Barnes, the man trying so hard to remember who he really was, hadn’t expected anyone to care enough.

By the time the sixth note appeared, left beside a fresh pastry on a paper plate, he couldn’t ignore it anymore.

“You looked tired this morning. I hope this makes your day a little easier. You’re doing better than you think.”

It wasn’t just kindness anymore. It was someone seeing him. Someone paying attention to the way his shoulders slumped, how he lingered too long in the training room, how he sometimes forgot to eat breakfast.

He started keeping the notes in a box in his drawer.

Bucky wasn’t exactly known for subtlety, so when he asked Friday to trace fingerprints or camera footage, the AI simply replied:

“Per the sender’s encrypted privacy request, all records related to the gifts have been redacted. Respectfully, maybe enjoy the mystery?”

Bucky sighed.

But the mystery tugged at him.

Eventually, he changed his approach.

He left a note of his own, right where the gifts always appeared.

“You don’t have to stay hidden. Whoever you are... thank you. You make my days feel lighter. I’d like to return the favor. I’ll be on the rooftop at 8 p.m. tonight. If you’re not ready, I understand.”

He waited.

The sky above the compound turned golden, then indigo, and stars flickered awake. Bucky stood alone with his hands in his pockets, heart awkwardly caught between dread and hope.

Then he heard the door open.

You stepped out slowly, biting your lip and clutching something behind your back. “Hey,” you said, voice uncertain.

He turned and softened instantly. “It’s you.”

You smiled, sheepish. “I didn’t think you’d figure it out.”

“I didn’t,” he admitted. “I just hoped.”

Silence stretched between you as you walked closer. Then you held out what you’d brought. This time it was a small journal with a leather cover. Inside were empty pages, except for the first one.

“For new beginnings. For letting yourself dream again.”

Bucky looked up at you, emotions swirling in his stormy-blue eyes.

“I’ve never had anyone do what you did,” he said quietly. “All those little things... they meant more than I can say.”

You hesitated, searching his face. “I didn’t want to overwhelm you. I just wanted you to know you were cared about. That you deserve softness, too.”

A long beat passed. Then Bucky took a step closer.

“You ever think about letting someone care about you in return?”

Your breath caught. “Sometimes.”

“Well,” he said, almost smiling, “maybe we can try... together.”

He held out his hand.

And when you took it, he swore it felt like the first time in a very long time that something in his soul began to bloom again.

[stellaspectral]

I randomly thought of the trope “fights physically x fights verbally” and I thought that would perfect for Raph.

I imagine this trope working best with 2003 or Bayverse Raph. But whichever you choose is fine.

A/N: I won’t lie, anon; I struggled a bit with this request. I was having trouble imagining a suitable scenario, so I hope you forgive me if this isn’t quite what you were wanting 😥 Anyway, I went with Bayverse Raph for this.

I hope you enjoy it, regardless 💖

Fault Lines (mild angst)

❤️ Bayverse Raphael/Gender Neutral Reader ❤️

CWs: Slightly toxic(?) relationship, worry/anxiety, verbal confrontation, and overprotectiveness. All characters are aged-up.

You enter the unusually quiet lair.

Immediately, a familiar tension coils in your chest. Because this kind of silence usually only means one thing: Raph is stewing about something. And sure enough, as you round the corner into the common area, there he is.

He’s a mountain of muscle and barely contained frustration, pacing a tight circle near the beat-up couch. His jaw is a rigid line, his brow a thundercloud. His sais are sheathed, thank goodness, but his fists are clenched, knuckles white.

He’s less a turtle, more a green, scaly volcano on the verge of eruption.

“Hey,” you offer, your voice carefully neutral as you drop your bag on the floor.

He freezes mid-pace, his head snapping towards you, pinning you with a glare that could melt steel. “Where were you?” His voice is a low rumble, like thunder gathering force.

Here we go, you think, a familiar script playing out as you meet his fiery gaze. “I was out, like I explicitly informed you I would be. I was hanging with Casey. At the arcade, a distinctly non-threatening environment.”

“Out,” he parrots, the word dripping with a heavy, disdainful sarcasm that could curdle milk. He takes a step closer, his sheer size filling your vision. “You were s’posed to be back an hour ago.” This is classic Raph: establish dominance through sheer physical intimidation.

You stand your ground, refusing to flinch. “No, Raph,” you correct. “I said I’d be back around nine. It’s nine-fifteen. ‘Around’ implies a degree of flexibility, which I would have thought even your impressively dense skull could comprehend.” A verbal jab, precise and sharp.

His nostrils flare. “I was worried, alright?!” he bellows, his chest heaving.

“Worried?” you counter, raising an eyebrow. “Or were you picturing every Foot Clan ninja between here and Times Square ambushing me? Because, for your information, the most dangerous thing I encountered was a faulty joystick on the Pac-Man machine and Casey’s questionable choice of pizza toppings.” Your tone is light, almost teasing, but there’s an underlying challenge.

“It’s not funny!” he snaps, his voice rising in volume. “This city ain’t a damn playground! You know that! Why d’you gotta be so damn reckless, huh? So careless?”

“Reckless?” You cross your arms. “Let’s review the facts, shall we? I was in a brightly lit, densely populated public establishment. A friend who is adept with a hockey stick accompanied me. I was in said establishment during daylight hours that transitioned into early evening, not the dead of night.” You sigh. “The only ‘reckless’ thing here is your tendency to jump to the worst possible conclusion and take it out on the nearest target.”

A low, guttural growl rumbles deep in his chest. He turns away, running a hand over his head. The movement is agitated, restless—because he can’t punch your words, can’t wrestle your logic into submission. It’s as if he’s flailing against an invisible opponent, his primary weapons rendered useless.

“I just … I worry,” he mutters, his broad back still to you. The raw, aggressive energy seeps out of him, replaced by that familiar, vulnerable gruffness that always lies just beneath the surface of his rage. His massive shoulders, squared and confrontational moments before, slump perceptibly.

Now, you soften. Your verbal sparring isn’t about winning, not really. It’s about navigating the minefield of his temper, about carefully disarming the explosive exterior to reach the anxious, fiercely protective turtle buried deep within. You approach him, stopping a respectful foot away, giving him space.

“I know you do,” you say, your voice gentle now, shedding its competitive edge. “And believe it or not, I appreciate it. More than you probably realize. Really.” You pause, letting your words hang in the air for a few beats before you continue. “But you also need to trust me. I’m not made of glass, liable to shatter at the first sign of trouble. And I refuse to live my life cocooned in bubble wrap inside this lair, simply because you’re perpetually afraid of what might happen out there.”

He turns slowly, his face still etched with worry, but the inferno in his eyes has banked, leaving only troubled embers. “It’s just … when you’re not here, and I don’t know where you are …” He trails off, shrugging his shoulders.

He can fight armies, but this fear—this gnawing uncertainty—is an enemy he can’t physically defeat.

“Then next time,” you suggest, reaching out to tentatively place your hand on his forearm, “instead of pacing a trench into the floor and mentally preparing for a one-turtle war, maybe just … call me? Or, and I know this is a radical concept, try to operate on the assumption that I’m capable of navigating the perils of an arcade without incident.” A small smile plays on your lips.

He looks down at your hand resting on his arm, his gaze lingering there for a moment before lifting back to your face. You watch as the remaining tension around his eyes eases, a slow, almost reluctant grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Yeah, yeah, smart-ass,” he grumbles, but there’s no heat in it.

He draws you into an embrace. His physical presence, which only moments ago felt intimidating, now wraps around you like a warm, impenetrable shield. You press your cheek against his plastron, feeling the steady, reassuring thrum of his heartbeat. His arms are a solid, comforting weight around you, a promise of safety that no amount of sparring—physical or verbal—can diminish.

He lets out a low breath. “You’re a damn menace,” he mutters.

You pull back just enough to look up at him, your hands resting on his arms. The worry lines etched around his eyes haven’t completely vanished. But they’re softer now, his expression almost tender in the ambient light.

“So,” you tease, a grin playing on your lips, “what’s the new protocol? Am I grounded? Confined to my quarters with a tracking anklet and hourly check-ins?”

He snorts. “Temptin’. Real temptin’.” He taps your forehead lightly with a thick, green finger. “But then who’d keep me on my toes with all that fancy talk?”

“Ah, so my advanced vocabulary and willingness to brave questionable culinary experiences are my saving graces?”

He laughs. “Among other things,” he concedes, his gaze warm as it meets yours.

You tilt your head, a playful challenge in your eyes. “And these ‘other things’,” you drawl, poking his plastron, “are they classified information? Top secret turtle business?”

He chuckles, pulling you closer. “Nah,” he says, his voice dropping to a husky murmur that sends a shiver down your spine. “Just … y’know. You.”

The simplicity of his words, so starkly Raph, lands with more impact than any eloquent speech could. You feel your own smile soften, the teasing edge dissolving into genuine affection. “Just me, huh?” you echo softly, resting your cheek against him again.

He makes a noncommittal sound, a sort of hum deep in his throat, and one of his hands leaves your arm to settle on your back, pulling you flush against him. “Still think you talk too much sometimes,” he mutters, the words devoid of any real annoyance.

“And you still think punching things is a viable form of communication,” you retort, your voice equally soft.

He squeezes you a little tighter. “Works for me though,” he grunts, but you know he’s smiling.

You lean back slightly, just enough to look up at him again. “It does, doesn’t it? But sometimes,” you say, gently tracing the edge of his mask with your thumb, “a few well-chosen words work better.”

“Yeah, well,” he says, his voice a low rasp. “Guess it’s a good thing I got you to handle the wordy stuff, then.”

“Guess so,” you agree. “Someone has to translate your grunts into coherent statements, after all.”

He rolls his eyes, but the corners of his mouth twitch upwards. “Har har. You’re a real comedian.”

“Only for you, Big Guy,” you reply, pressing a light kiss to his jawline.

He stills for a second, then a soft sigh escapes him, and his arm tightens around your waist, holding you securely. “Good,” he says, the single word resonating with a depth of feeling that makes your heart flutter. “Stay that way.”

There’s a few beats of silence as he nuzzles his face briefly against your hair.

“So,” he rumbles, his voice regaining some of its usual gruffness, “arcade again next week? Or you gonna try your luck with that new sushi place Casey’s been ravin’ about? Heard they got stuff that’ll make even Mikey think twice.”

“Maybe. But only if you promise not to dispatch a SWAT team if I’m five minutes late.”

“No promises,” he says, clearly joking.

You just smile, knowing that for all his bluster and worry, you wouldn’t trade your hot-headed, soft-hearted turtle for anything.

[httpssturns]

“Wait, don't forget your wallet!”

♡ sweet tooth!nick x carnie!chase♡

cw: nothing really, just cuteness, some flirting, goofy silly shit au masterlist ○ main masterlist

Nick loves the carnival. Not just loves, the carnival is his life.

If he could live there, he really would. With all of the lights and the diverse people, the delicious snacks, and most importantly, the stuffed animals.

He has always adored stuffed animals, since he was little, that was always just his thing. Nick has such a big stuffed animal collection that it's honestly quite insane, he's in need of a room upgrade because at this point? He's the one being moved out—not the plushies.

Despite being fully aware of this, he's still out on the hunt for more of the plush mammals, its a full time job at this point.

“Come on guys, the carnival isn't closing yet, I still haven't won one yet, Rich needs more friends!” Nick whines, tugging at Chris and Matt's shirt sleeves even though it's quite obvious they want to leave already.

“Nick, we're going to wait in the car, please hurry up and get your stuffed animal. We are not coming with you for another what, 10k steps? I speak for the both of us when we say we're good." Chris chuckles, nudging Matt's shoulder with his own and eliciting a small laugh of agreement from him.

Nick scoffs “Fuck you guys.. I'll do it myself then! And you two won't lay a hand on him either.” he grumbles, stalking off from the parking lot to the array of ring tosses and duck reel-ins.

He comes across a stand that he really likes, and a stuffed animal. Ever since he saw it today, he's had his eyes on it like a tiger laying eyes on rabbit. And what's really funny, is that's exactly what it is.

It's a medium sized bunny, a brownish fluffy one with soulful eyes and floppy ears. something that would immediately capture anyone that had a heart. Including Nick.

“Hello, how many horseshoe would you like? There's a 3 toss, but the 6 really gets you your money's worth.” The worker says with a cup of his hand, like he's telling a secret that no one else knows.

Nick let out a light laugh, already fishing out his wallet. “Are you sure you're not trying to get more money out of me?” he teases, although he grabs 6 dollars anyway.

“I'll take the 6. I'm Nick, by the way.”

“6, coming up.” The worker replies, and with a spin of his shoe and a lift of his finger, he's already placing the 6 horseshoe in front of Nick like he's done this a million times.

“And, I'm Chase, but you could probably see that 'cuz of my nametag.” The boy replies with a cheeky wink of his eye.

Nick begins to toss his horseshoes, attempting—and failing to ever get one around the pole.

“Fuck,” Nick murmurs with a slight chew of his lips, letting out a big sigh.

“I'm not usually that bad.” he says with a quiet laugh, an embarrassed lilt to his tone like it's so mortifying to lose a carnival game.

“Hey, it's fine, some people talk big money and lose even worse than you did.” Chase laugh, giving Nick a boyish grin.

Nick's heart flutters at the sight, but he shakes it off. “I would try again, but my brothers are going to be exponentially pissed at me if I take any longer.”

“i'm pretty sure you'll be back, I think I've seen you here before?” Chase counters with a half smile and a shrug.

“Yeah, I will,” Nick smiles. “But that bunny won't be.” he adds to his words, the statement more like a thought to himself. I guess it's time to kiss Rich's new best friend goodbye.

“hey,” Chase starts, looking around cautiously before grabbing the rabbit.

What is he doing?

“Just uh, pretend you won. I think this is against the rules.” Chase whispers with a grin, handing it to Nick and making a ruckus about how ‘he won’ just like he does with other winners, except this one didn't win at all.

“Really, it's okay.. I don't need it-” Nick protests, but Chase only waves off his concern.

“You've earned it, practically won anyways.” he smiles, letting out a quiet laugh at Nick's flustered behavior.

“Just don't make me regret it, yeah?”

“I—thank you, I won't.” Nick murmurs with a giddy excitement, clutching the bunny to his chest.

When Nick turns to leave, Chase lets out a soft, gleeful laugh. “Wait, don't forget your wallet!”

Nick turns back only to snatch his wallet from the counter, his face a bright red. “thank you, bye!” He squeaks, speedily walking over to Matt's car. He doesn't say a word the whole ride, only hugging the bunny to his chest and wearing a big grin.

Fuck, I should've asked for his number.

@strangergraphics-archive for the dividers!

☆soph's notes: first candy au real fic!!! yay yay yay!!! I hope you guys like this because I kind of don't like it but wtv. I also kind of didn't proofread 😚✌️

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ @sugarraez @ribbonlovergirl @slvt4subchratt @bernardsbendystraws @oopsiedaisydeer @backwardshatnick @izzylovesmatt @viviansturns @courta13 @coquettechris @matts-wife @matts-babytomatoes @whore4chris @lilssturns @bambi-cloud9 @sturns-mermaid @mattswrinkleton @irlbcmbi @pizzapocketpocketpizza

[dissolved-g1rl]

Just read your post about girldad!vergil and it literally had me screaming at 4am. Now I'm genuinely curious about nero's relationship with his new sister and how he would adapt to this new life and such thing as if he would be THAT protective brother or such things. I'll really appreciate it if you write something about it! Your writing is so good i literally live in your blog 🫶🏻

brother bear ⋆🐾°

Nero really needs to get his own place. He cannot handle another night of tantrums, he can hear the shrill cry of his little sister. He groans, rolling over and using his pillow to cover the top of his head. Nero thinks you and his dad are doing good a job, he thinks it’s pretty funny watching the two of you walk around like zombies. Nero can tell one of you got up because the crying stops, he sighs, able to fall back asleep.

He never realized just how delicate his father can be. It’s not his experience, Nero knows how loving he is, he’s seen how his dad acts with you and his uncle. He tries to act begrudging, but he can tell how Vergil worries about Dante in his own weird way. The same with him, curfews, checking up on his rest, buying all his junk food. Having a present dad is actually pretty chill. “Hi honey good morning” You yawn, kissing his cheek, can’t ignore the first baby of the family just cause you have a new one. “Hey” Nero murmurs back, he sees his dad walk out with messy bed head, with his little sister cradled to his chest. Nero usually skips all the babying, the highchair and dirty diapers. It’s just a lot, an infant. He held her the day she was born, impossibly tiny, soft, perfect. But not secure, her head is still floppy, her limbs too little—Nero is…nervous. It’s stupid, nervous about a baby? His own sister? What if he drops her, or holds her head the wrong way? The thought of it makes him sick. So he usually just…ignores it, you and Vergil have it covered anyways.

Nero needs to learn to keep his mouth shut, jinxing is no joke. Between you craving (needing…) a shower and his dad needing to make a store run, the two of you aren’t left with many options. And Nero is just oh-so-perfectly lazing on the couch watching tv, his ankles crossed with one hand up his shirt rubbing his stomach after a heavy lunch. He agrees after seeing the two of you looking all stir crazy with his cherubic little sister bundled up. Nero walks around with her clutched to his chest, lightly bouncing her with every step. His dad is gone but you’re just in the shower, so Nero figures it really should be okay…. “You sleep too much in the day, ‘s why you can never sleep at night.” Nero grumbles, poking her pudgy cheek. Her little eyes blink and Nero freezes when she stretches out of her swaddle, little fists raising before flopping, she yawns big, showing her little gums. “Heard me talkin’ too much.” Nero sighs, carefully adjusting her head. She babbles something back and he smiles, “Talkative eh? You really are a Sparda…” He laughs slightly, sitting back down on the couch, just watching her, and in turn, she watches him. “Not that I ever doubted it.” Nero adds on when she furls her nose, he’s unable to resist, tapping her little button nose with the pad of his index finger. “Bless you!” He feels guilt when she sneezes, it rattles her little body, he rocks her side to side. It’s unnecessary, a little sneeze won’t make her cry, tough girl.

He stares down at her some more, that quiet contemplation his dad is notorious for. The world is a cruel place, filled with monsters other than just demons. But how would she know that? Nero doesn’t think she knows anything besides milk and sleeping. He gives her a tentative sniff, he’s seen you and Vergil do it plenty, the two of you are hooked, and wow…he gets it. She really does still have that new baby smell. Nero feels a little enamored, how can something be so vulnerable? So dependent? He figures that she’ll need all the help she can get, especially when she’s older and has to deal with Vergil’s parenting. “I’ll be there for you, your mom is a pretty sweet chick, and dad’s pretty okay too, but y’know…just so you have someone actually cool in your corner.” He mumbles, he hears the shower turn off, he guesses he has a little while longer. He could always ask for more time, she’s his little sister after all.

dividers by @cursed-carmine

a/n: lolol thank u for ur support anon!! rise dissolved-g1rl nation…

[chronicallyonlin3]

ᕙ( •̀ ᗜ •́ )ᕗYandere Cowboys as Dads...

(Yandere! Cowboy Dads x Adopted Teen!Reader)

.

Yandere!Kacey who is the one who tries to get you settled at their place.

It's not like Alex doesn't care to. It's just that he would probably have a meltdown if you started crying.

"C'mon love. Look I know it's hard to get used to all this, given with what you dealt with before.". He sounded worried, and rightly so. You hadn't moved from your room all week. Plates of food from yesterday's meals were left sitting on your desk, clothes strewn everywhere, it looked like a hurricane went through your room.

He tried nudging your leg with his, in an effort to get you to say anything back. Though you were silent, still. Sighing, he wrapped his arm around you and pulled you close.

"I get it, really, I do. Must be real scary being in a new place with new people. But you gotta get used to us sooner or later. It'd do you some good I reckon, and get Alex to stop worrying so damn much."

.

Yandere!Alex who puts you down for the night.

Sometimes he wonders if you're actually there.

He's always wanted kids. He decided on that pretty early on in life, and meeting Kacey just made him want them more. But to actually have one, he can't but worry about you constantly. What if you hate them, what if you just up and run away, what if something happens to you, something bad?

He doesn't know what he would do with himself if anything happened to you.

So, as he sits on the edge of your bed, tucking you in and kissing your forehead. "G'night baby, sleep well for me.".

And before he leaves, he stares at your sleeping form, just for a bit. Before sighing, giving you one last kiss, then quietly leaving your room.

.

Yandere!Kacey who teaches you how to care for the animals on the farm.

By this time its been a few months since they adopted you. You, thankfully, grown accustomed to them, but not the farm yet. You knew they had one, it was pretty obvious since it was right around the back of their house.

Your curiosity spiked as time went on. Animals noise could be heard from the back all day and both of them could be seen going in and out of the back door. One morning, you just stared at the it. Your breakfast was left untouched and you almost seemed in trance, or at least that's what it looked like to Kacey.

"You wanna go back there?", He asked, cutting through to silence. "You can if you want. Honestly, I was wondering when you were gonna show some interest in the animals, seeing as you're all quiet like. But go on love, go look around. I'll meet you back there in a few, still need to wake your papa up."

.

Yandere!Alex who has to stop his husband from starting a fight with anyone who flirts with you.

Seeing as people come to their house fairly often, if not for some sort of good then just to talk. And usually they'd let people to talk to you, more specifically people your age. Mostly since you didn't get out much. If not for school and helping around the place, you'd practically be glued to your bed. You needed friends, fast.

Kacey never really worried about you socializing. I mean if he doesn't need it why would you? But with Alex being the social parent out of the two of them, he knows you need to talk to somebody that isn't just them from time to time.

"Sweetie, can you come down here for a second?!", He hollered from the base of the stairwell. Luckily for you, you were just about to take a nap when he called for you. And knowing that 'for a second' was never really a second, you decided to put some presentable clothes on. Just in case. When you finally came down, the first thing you could see was your dad talking to some guy who looked to be in his 40's. There conversation didn't pique your interest much, but seeing your papa next to someone else did.

"There you are! Thought you'd never come down from that room of yours. Well anyways, I got somebody here I think you'll like. Come on, sit down.", and of course he sat you right next to them. For a while he just kind of sits there with the two of you, as if expecting something to happen. Though he quickly sees that you need some space and excuse himself to go talk with your dad.

After he leaves, the person actually starts talking to you. You both go back and fourth over different topics and likes. And for a moment everything seems pretty normal. Until you notice how close they are to you, the way their touches linger a little to long, or how they seem to be looking at you. You've didn't think much of it, just assuming they were really friendly, so you kept the conversation going. That was until a voice cut you off.

"Hey! Get your hands off my kid! I don't remember y'all being this close last time I was in here!", yelled someone, loudly. And just by the tone alone you knew it was your dad.

Before you could even try to explain the situation, he was grabbing the kid next to you by the throat, damn near choking them out. If it wasn't for your papa getting in between them, and then right after him and the kid's dad, you were sure they were going to kill each other.

The fighting ended as soon as it began. Alex broke it up, took them outside, and came back just 30 minutes later. Though you couldn't hear, or see any of it happen, it was obvious they got into a fight. As your dads entered the house you could see they were visibly beat up, but more so your dad. And they did not look happy.

"God damn it! Why the hell would you just let them run off like that, I had that boy right-"

"Because you don't know when to calm the hell down! For fuck's sake! Did you really have to break that kids jaw?!"

"What?! You'd rather I let him off the hook? I ain't letting no sorry fuck like him touch up on my child like that and get away with it!" Kacey shouted back as he clenched his jaw. The house filled with a deafening silence after that. Neither of them spoke, and you were to scared to.

"Look, honey", Kacey started off as he took his husband's hand in his and pulled him closer, "I ain't never mean to go on and get you hurt. And for what it's worth, I'm sorry for lashing out at the kid. I just want the two of you safe, that's all I want.". Alex scoffed but didn't pull away, instead letting his head fall on the other's shoulder. "God, you're lucky that I love you.", he sighed.

"Love you too."

They stand there, holding each other, for a few good minutes. It wasn't until Alex turned his head a little more to the side to see you still on the couch.

"Jesus, I thought you went upstairs!", he gasped as he let go of Kacey and made his way over to you. Instantly, he was hugging you and reassuring you that nothing happened. Even though it was clear you had questions, ones that neither of them really wanted to answer at the moment. So, they pretended it never happened. Both of them looked at you then, at each other. Then before you know it, you were being guided into the kitchen by your papa, 'making something special for dinner' he said. You two got started on whatever dish he planned on making, all while your dad went out back to tend to the chickens.

Just like if nothing happened.

(This definitely went on for longer then i thought but I'm too lazy to make it into an actual fic/separate post so enjoyദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )!)

.

Yandere!Dads who dance in the kitchen with you, while the radio plays songs.

It doesn't usually get cold where they live. Most times it just gets damp, or humid, or windy. But this winter, was something different entirely.

Snow covered what used to be wide, green fields. And the frequent sounds of clucking and mooing were now more hushed, since all the animals got moved inside the big farmhouse until the weather cleared up.

And with little to do, and nowhere to go, you became bored. And it wasn't just you either, everyone was bored. The channels your dad used to watch were all cut off due to severe weather, and your papa could only draw so much with his hands practically freezing off.

"It's colder than a witches backside in hear. M'Making some tea so we all don't freeze our tails off.", Alex groaned while making his way to the kitchen area. Hearing something other than the wind pushing against the house, and ringing silence was all you needed to follow him. And tea did sound good right now.

He filled the kettle with water, and then put in whatever else he thought would be good, then set it on the stove. The bubbling water did as good white noise, plus the radio. It played the usual, which is to say, any and all songs you didn't like.

But today was different. Something new played from the dusted up radio, maybe pop or something indie. It didn't seem to pique Alex's interest but after a few seconds you couldn't help yourself from humming along to the lyrics.

"You actually like this stuff? Just sounds like a bunch a frilly slop.", he huffed. Though he couldn't deny that seeing you enjoying yourself was pretty cute. Soon enough, humming turned into singing, then singing into dancing. And what type of father would he be if he didn't join in?

Giggles and off-tune singing filled the room, and soon enough in lured in Kacey.

"What're you two all giddy about in here?", he questioned before immediately being pulled into you and your papa's little dance circle. He stumbled around a bit but soon caught on and joined you two.

It was just the three of you in your own little world, in your home, without a care in the world.

.

Yandere!Dads who go horseback riding with you as soon as you know how to.

They've been itching for you to ask about it.

From the moment you laid eyes on they horse to when you started to get attached, the were just waiting for it. Kacey was all for teaching them how to ride from the very beginning. He learned how to ride a horse when he was way younger then you, so it would only be right you get to learn too. But like always, his husband urged to take it slow. They didn't know everything about you, and they didn't want to act like they did.

That's why they were both equally surprised when you asked them if you could take one the horses for a ride. Well, more so Alex then Kacey.

They'd definitely take you on joy rides across town so you get used to the feeling. The wind in your hair, how the horses control, and more importantly, how to care for one when your riding out.

Alex would totally splurge and get you a custom saddle and everything. He wants you to enjoy yourself, especially since you're a first-timer.

Kacey only cares about you getting the basics so you don't get hurt. He's been in a few accidents with animals, specifically horses, and he knows that they can be a little wild at first. Also you are getting covered in padding and whatever else he can think of, he's not taking no for an answer.

[beardedhotchner]

El Tango De Roxanne

(Part 4 of Spencer Reid x Prostitute!Reader)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

A/N: bit of a short chapter as I wanted to do Reggie's separately and I wanted to leave Callie a kinda...mystery? But also show how she thought. I hope you enjoy, Amia xx

T/W: Prostitution, trafficking (?), physical abuse, sexual abuse, dad!hotch vibes, arguing, swearing, kinda OOC Spencer, Callie is a c*nt,

Camille's eyes narrow at Hotch as he carries in her son. She could hears his cries for his 'mama' from down the hall. Meaning she knew you got to see him before she did. I'm his mom, not her, she thought bitterly.

Her wrists, connected to the table with cuffs, made it hard to reach out for him. Not that she would anyway. When Hotch asks if she'd like the cuffs off to hold him, she sighs and mumbles "obviously."

The team behind the two-way glass could see the instant contrast between you both. Not only was Callie very immature (credit to her young age) but she was very detached from her son, who had clearly bonded with you. Rossi wondered if your connection to the boy was a sore issue for Callie.

Morgan moved to uncuff her, placing the key back in his pocket. Camille stared at Hotch, waiting for her son to be handed over. She was very different from you.

Just at a mention of Noah's name had you on your feet begging to see him. You had swooped straight in to hold the boy as soon as he was in sight. You held him tight and didn't move for over an hour, letting the small boy relax against you.

She didn't. She barely moved. When Hotch handed him over, the small boy cried out against her, hitting her with small fists. Camille, not reacting well, pushes him back into Hotch's arms.

"God, can he just shut up for 5 minutes?" She complained, "God, go give him to her. She calms him down in like 2 seconds flat." Callie turns away from the boy, denying Noah any affection or her attention. Hotch feels the boy slump in his arms, crying against his lapel.

Behind the glass, Emily murmurs, "She's upset that he isn't attached to her. But instead of building a connection, she pushes him further away." From that short interaction with her son, Camille had shown the BAU alot about herself.

"Do you think there's a reason why?" JJ muses, before she turns around to face the two-way glass into your interrogation room.

You were still on the floor, clutching at Spencer as tears fell. He whispered reassuring words to you, promising to take you away from all of this. JJ couldnt help but feel her heart tug. She had obviously misjudged you, assuming the worst. And now she felt nothing but guilt as she watched your body wrack with sobs.

"Mama!" Noah cries out, "mama!" Camille sighs, rolling her eyes, waving her hand dismissively. Hotch sits across from her, trying to calm Noah while they talk to Callie.

Morgan hovers behind him, far enough away to give her space, but still close enough to intimidate. "Who's his father?" He asks, "Or do you not know? A client maybe?"

Callie's eye snap up to meet his, her brows furrowed. Her scowl almost rivals Hotch's. "No. I know who his father is. I'm not an idiot." She snaps, "but he told me not to tell anyone. Especially his 'Angel'." She complains, her arms crossing in front of herself protectively.

Morgan's eyebrows raise.

Noah was Reggie's son.

No wonder you had such a bond with the boy, Reggie probably forced the connection, wanting his favourite girl to watch his son.

It made sense.

Especially as you seemed to have Reg eating from the palm of your hand. The man was in the next room trying to fight for yours and his own freedom, which was highly unusual. Most pimps usually let their girls rot in jail and move on to new pickings.

"God, no one can actually stand her. She walks around like she's better than us. But she's a fucking ditz. Nothing more than a dumb slut. The only reason he keeps her around is cause she feeds his ego. Reg treats us like shit and she doesn't bat an eyelid, cause she dont understand. She's too thick."

Callie knew she was being unfair. She could see how much it hurt you to see the other girls hurt. But she felt abandoned by you. You stood back and played it safe. Another sore spot with her.

She never saw how you'd be bruised when you stood up to Reggie. She didn't see the cut on your cheek when he slapped you so hard your skin spilt. She didn't see the limp you had for a week when he pushed you down the stairs. The marks he would leave. The threats he made. The abuse you endured. The way you had protected Callie when Reggie found out she was pregnant. The beating you took for that, as well as the promises you made to look after the kid in any capacity.

She would never realise what being his Angel entailed. The sacrifices that you made.

No. She would never understand that.

And for that you could only be grateful.

After getting almost nowhere with Camille, the team regrouped before they even thought about approaching Reggie. You sat cross-legged on the floor, Noah playing and passing you small blocks. His wide smile and bright eyes shine at you as he chats away to you.

Spencer had told you the importance of talking back to him as he babbles, how it develops his communication skills. So everytime he would babble, you would talk back to him softly and kind, but you made sure to enunciate properly so he could learn from you.

"Baba nmna, mama!" Noah held a blue block up to you, giggling when you took it from him.

"Thank you, Noah. You're right. It is a blue block, baby. That's my favourite colour. Do you have a favourite colour?" Spencer watches you from his spot by the coffee machine, he can't help but picture a future with you.

"Gwee! Mama! Boo!" He says, holding up a green block and another blue. You cheer him on, praising him for remembering the colour names. He beams at you, throwing his arms around your neck, "Mama!" You hold him as he settles into your lap, pulling his thumb into his mouth.

"She's great with him..." Derek muses aloud, coming to stop by Spencer. The tall brown-haired man nods, his eyes still watching you.

"She was made to be a mom. She's incredible at it..." he mutters. Morgan could see the light in Spencer's eyes when he talks about you, the way he looks at you, even the vicious tone in his voice earlier when defending you to the team, to Morgan. You were remarkable and Derek could see it. The whole team did.

JJ approaches you, kneeling next to you. Gently placing a bag of snacks for both you and Noah next to you, she passes you a can of soda, you notice it's your favourite and your eyes flicker to Spencer. The small smile on his face is enough to tell you that he asked someone to pick it up for you. You mouth a thank you to him before turning to JJ. "Thanks, Agent Jareau."

"Please, call me JJ." She said it softly, as if a hidden apology behind it for her actions earlier during your interview. You nod, offering a smile as your own apology. In your lap, Noah waves at her gently, his thumb still in his mouth. "He's a sweetheart." She says and he shyly hides his face in your neck, babbling to himself.

"Noah, you gonna say thank you for the compliment?" You crooned at him, your hand rubbing gentle circles on his back.

The pair of you chuckle as Noah shakes his head, mumbling "Tah", his face still hidden. It took a little coaxing to get him back out, mainly a small fruit bar you know he loves. He happily munches away, breaking off bits as you hold the bar through its wrapper in pinched fingers.

JJ and you sit there for a while, talking about her sons and about Noah. She even gave you a few stories about Spencer. It was funny to hear them from the other perspective. You hadn't realised Rossi, Emily and Hotch had left the room. Not until Rossi entered the room you were in, the open door allowing his voice to carry down the hallway to you. You froze and Noah went quiet, crawling back into your lap.

"WHERE THE FUCK IS SHE?" It was followed by the sound of a metal chair hitting a wall. "ANGEL? ANGEL!" Reggie called out. Your stomach felt like lead and your arms tightened around Noah, who was trembling. His big eyes filling with tears as he looked to you for comfort.

The door swung shut and Rossi mumbled an apology, pulling a tense face. Spencer shoots him a glare, crossing the room in moments.l

You hold Noah close to your chest, his tiny body shaking with fear. Your own breath shaky and ragged. The walls feel like theyre closing in as Reggie's shouts echo through the hall.

You feel the urge to run, to hide you both but your frozen in place, overwhelmed by sheer panic. Noah begins to cry, his chubby hands pulling at you. With your heart pounding, you swallow the bile that rises in your throat as Spencer's team watches your reaction. Your too panicked to be anxious about their opinions on you right now. You feel a warm hand on your shoulder grounding you, "Spencer.." You let out in a sigh, tear threatening to fall.

His voice is steady, gentle, "Hey, I've got you." He plucks Noah from your arms, holding him between you both as he moves to sit beside you, his arm pulling you close. Noah's cries turn to a soft whimper as he rests his head on Spencer's chest, his big eyes staring at you.

“You’re safe,” Spencer murmurs, his voice soothing you. “We’re all safe. I’ve got you. Just breathe with me, baby.” He guides you, "I've got you."

It doesn't take a genius (or a profiler) to work out why both you and Noah reacted to Reggie's yells that way.

[fawnbong]

Nil x reader since it's so heavily requested

"Stop the world ('Cause I wanna get off with you) - Pine Point

Nil x Reader

Romantic (??) like kind of platonic with romantic undertones but idk find out for yourself

Oneshot

Yeah I wrote this out on a whim it's stupid I'm sorry

I had to Google Canadian history for this

Don't take this seriously pls

-ˋˏ-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Your room is silent, dim, and comfortable. You'd passed on an invite to hang out with your friends in favor of finishing up an upcoming essay. They said they planned on smoking behind the school or something once everyone left. Truthfully, it sounds great. You just have priorities, unfortunately. So, you set everything you'd need up— a comfortable working space (your bed), food and a fun flavored Red Bull, and a curated playlist of decent music to keep you somewhat focused.

You crawl onto your bed and shuffle over to the wall it's pressed against, one hand clothing your laptop and papers while the other balances your drink. Immediately, you rest your band against the hard wall and get to typing, flipping through notes and references, switching between citation generators and Google Docs. You try to pretend you're actually sitting against the brick wall of your school smoking pot. You can only exhale and continue working.

Your fingers freeze against the keyboard when you hear rustling bushes outside your window. You perk up, eyes on the window as you slide your laptop off your lap. A few beats of silence pass, and you almost allow yourself to relax slightly, until a handful of pebbles come pattering down your window like heavy rain. You gasp and jump back from your place on your bed, still staring wide-eyed at the window. You don't want to go check it out, but truly, you know that you'd better do it sooner rather than later.

Begrudgingly, you creep over to the window, unwilling to stare down into the dark abyss of bushes and shrubs. Regardless, you do. Surprisingly, you're met with Nil— disheveled and panting lightly. He stands before your window sill, glaring daggers at you like he always does. You let out an 'oh' of realization and unlock the window, pushing it open and poking your head out a little, as if to check if it's really him.

It's Nil. A few leaves have found their way into his tousled hair. He looks about the same as when you last saw him only a few days ago. Only this time, he adorns a basic brown-ish sweater, rather than his usual bomber jacket littered with patches. Immediately, you smile. You like to think you're decent friends. You hope you are. He, however, looks the other way. Okay, cool. You have better things to worry about, anyway.

"Nil? What on Earth are you doing here?" you question, baffled at his sudden appearance. He takes your open window as an invitation and clambers into your room, lightly shoving past you and landing on your floor with a faint groan. He's quick to hop to his feet, still glaring at you— as he always does. You cock your head to the side in confusion.

"I got bored." is all he says as he looks around your room, his glare softening a smidge. You scoff as you shut and lock your window.

"Bored? And, what, you thought it'd be best to come visit me, of all people?" you half-question, half-laugh. The situation is a little ridiculous, considering he enjoys his solitude so much. Maybe it makes you feel special, in a way. But that's hard to admit.

Nil doesn't really respond, but he looks like he's silent fuming. Nothing out of the ordinary. You saunter back to your bed and sit on the edge as you wait expectantly. Silence settles over you two. He doesn't join you. He doesn't answer your question. He doesn't even take his shoes off. Just stands there in the middle of your room with a permanent frown.

"You can sit down if you want," you finally speak up, gesturing to your bed. He lets out a heavy sigh and walks over, only to plop down on the ground right next to your bed. You furrow your brows at him and he scowls in return.

"What?" Nil asks, all defensive.

Your puzzled expression mirrors his, just with less intensity and aggression. You inhale with the most exasperated look on your face. "Why'd you leave? Weren't you having fun? It sounded fun. I thought you guys would be out 'till late."

"I just told you. I got bored." His eyes can't even meet yours as he speaks. You can only roll your eyes and accept it for now.

"Huh. And you think it'd be more fun to hang out with me? I'm flattered," you gush, a hand on your heart as you give him a lighthearted nudge. He near-growls at that, and you back off, occupying yourself with the Red Bull sitting on your nightstand. You can swear on your life Nil's face looks the slightest bit redder from your comment, but it's better to assume you're just seeing things.

"Where else would I go? There's nothing else to do in this town," Nil responds bitterly. "Besides, you don't talk my ear off like Momo does. Well, usually."

Funny. Despite the fact you know he's just being stubborn, it's a nice thought— to think he's maybe somewhat fond of your company. Fond enough to actively seek you out. You tilt your head with interest and move to lay on your stomach. "Alright, I'll take it. So, what were you hoping for? I wasn't really doing much myself. I have an essay due next Monday, so I was kind of just working on finishing that up before-"

"Yes, I know. You told us about that. And I don't know. I just didn't wanna sit around in the woods." A brief pause. He glances away from you. "I couldn't sleep, even if I wanted to."

His admission— if you can call it that— pulls a quiet hum from you as your expression softens. Must've been lonely or something, you can only assume. At least him being in your room is better than him toughing it out in the woods all night.

"Okay. That's alright. I mean, I kind of didn't wanna work tonight anyway. Um, you're welcome to spend the night if you'd like. I have, like, a sleeping bag and clothes and stuff." You try to offer him a welcoming smile. Despite knowing each other for well over two years, the air seems to remain awkward and thick with tension no matter what you say to alleviate it.

"Don't bother. I'll be outta your hair soon enough. Just wanted to..." his voice trails off. He doesn't actually know why his first thought was to turn on his heel and head for your house. "Sit around, I guess. Talk. What's your essay about?"

"History stuff." You slip off your bed and sit by his side, your legs splayed out before you.

"What kind of history stuff?"

"Wars. Seven years' war. Conflict. Stuff like that."

Nil hums quietly, slowly but surely adjusting and settling into your unfamiliar room. He stares at your rug as he speaks, as if he's trying to count every fiber and thread. "You like that kind of stuff?" His tone isn't accusatory or mocking like how you'd expect— just curious, and possibly soft, compared to his previous tone.

In response, you shrug. "Kind of. It's interesting when you get to the weird, messed up parts. Otherwise, it's just a lot of trade and communication. I don't care much for it."

Again, silence settles over the two of you. But this time, it isn't quite as uncomfortable or tense as it was before. You sigh, almost in relief, at that. "So, you really didn't think smoking behind the school was fun?" You lean in slightly, your shoulder brushing his, not entirely convinced by the half-baked response he'd given to you prior. Nil doesn't flinch and scowl at you in response, at least. Instead, he huffs and shakes his head.

"No." That's it. You sit and wait for the rest of it, but nothing comes for a few moments. And then he groans. "I lied. I didn't even go. I wanted to have a night alone, just couldn't sleep. You were the first person I thought to come to, so don't think I really wanted to be here. I'll probably leave soon." He huffs once he finishes his "confession", growing quiet again. "I just wanted to see you."

Your eyebrows raise slightly as you process his response. Nice to know you're on his mind? It's oddly sweet, and it makes you crack a small smile in response.

"Oh. I see." Your eyes finally leave him as you slump back against your bed, unintentionally leaning against him slightly. "So, you need a melatonin or what?"

Again, Nil shakes his head. "I already told you. I just wanted to talk. Why do you do that?"

You give him a puzzled look. "Do what?"

He scoffs, and again you see the redness on his cheeks you convinced yourself wasn't there earlier. "You're, like, practically all up on me," Nil states bluntly. He almost looks offended, but makes no effort to back away. The accusation does make you gasp in mock-offense and shuffle away slightly.

"I am not! Yeesh, what's your issue?" you huff with a quiet, nervous laugh, pulling your knees close to your chest, a reasonable space between you now. Nil sighs, but doesn't give you a verbal response.

After yet another brief period of silence, you feel a gentle tug on your sleeve. It catches your attention, and your eyes flicker down to find Nil's halfway gloved fingers gripping the sleeve of your shirt, silently pulling you closer. You raise a brow and give him a questioning look he won't see because he's looking the other way, of course.

"I didn't actually mean it. You didn't have to move," he mumbles. "Don't take it seriously. I wouldn't come if I wanted to be away from you, anyway." Reluctantly, Nil turns his head and his eyes meet yours. A frown is still etched onto his face, but he somehow doesn't look mad, or upset. Not like he usually does. Just a little flushed and kind of awkward. This is new, and you struggle to give a proper response before simply scooting closer (maybe a little closer than you were before), shoulder pressed against his. Satisfied, Nil lets go of your sleeve, but doesn't necessarily remove his hand. It remains wrapped snugly around your forearm as if he doesn't know where else to put it. You'd almost consider it an attempt at holding "hands", but it's a little too far off. It almost makes you laugh a little at the thought.

"Your room is...nice," Nil mumbles.

"I like you a lot and I'm really glad you came," you suddenly blurt out. And just like that, Nil's hand has a death grip on your sleeve again. This time out of shock. He stares at you, silent and wide-eyed, and for once, he has nothing clever or witty to say back. There's not much you really can say to something like that. Suddenly, your room feels ten degrees too warm. You blink at him, shocked by your own words yet unable to backtrack and pretend it was a joke. Your predicament would be funny if it were happening to anyone but you. Thankfully, after a few painful beats of silence, Nil speaks up.

"What kind of a love confession is that?" he snorts, still bewildered and still quite red in the face. For the first time all night, he laughs. His brows are furrowed as if he's angry, but he doesn't seem to be. Your face still burns as you groan in annoyance.

"It's not a 'love confession'." You emphasize your words with air quotes. "I'm just saying, I like you and I think we should hang out more."

"So, a love confession." Now he's just being annoying. You scoff and shake your head, dropping the topic.

"If you want it to be one so badly, fine. It's a confession."

"Cool." He almost hesitates before he continues. "Then I like hanging around you, too. You're...bearable." From your peripheral, you can tell he's still holding the smallest smile. It's not all that funny to you, but at least he's loosened up a bit. You clear your throat and change the subject, hoping to clear the air.

"You're staying the night, right?"

"Hell no."

Your frown deepens. "Wait, why not? It's so late. Might be dangerous, y'know. Our neighborhood has a lot of...raccoons. Yeah."

"Is not! I do it all the time," Nil insists, rolling his eyes at your fretting. "What, you want me to? Creep."

"Yes I want you to. I just implied I did, didn't I?"

His face grows all flushed again and he clicks his tongue. "Fine, if you're so desperate."

With that, you get up to grab the sleeping bag you'd stowed away in your closet months ago to collect dust. Nil watches from the floor, visibly a little unimpressed. Moments later, the sleeping bag is rolled out on the floor. You plop a couple folded blankets on the ground by it, along with a couple small, decorative pillows you pulled from your bed.

"Sorry, it's all I have." You offer Nil an apologetic smile as he unzips the sleeping bag, observing the inside as if checking for a massive spider or something, before crawling in.

"It's fine. Thanks." You nod and get up to leave, but he catches you by the hem of your shirt. He swiftly retracts his hand, like he's trying to play it off. "You should stay. So we can talk and...stuff."

You're taken aback by his request. It's so out of character for him to act like he likes your company. Yet you agree and grab a blanket, pulling it over your lap and you stay seated on the floor, even shuffling to sit a bit closer. "You know, I meant what I said earlier. I'm glad you decided to stay," you admit, voice a mere murmur as you fumble with the loose threads of the blanket and tangle them around your fingers. "I'd be worried and...all that, y'know? That's all."

Nil hums, tired eyes boring into yours again. It's a little awkward for a bit— still quiet and calm, though. Better than before, for sure. Nil is first to break the silence as he sits up in the sleeping bag.

"Don't pretend this doesn't mean something."

Your mind goes blank at his statement. Don't pretend this doesn't mean something. The words drone on in your head as you stare at him, almost dumbfounded, but more embarrassed than anything. Before you can respond, he's wrapped a hand around your forearm, tugging you forward and against himself in some kind of embrace. Your head rests somewhere on his shoulder now. It takes you a moment to register the sudden gesture before you hesitantly reciprocate it to the best of your abilities.

"I-s this a hug or....?" you speak up, clearly unsure of yourself. Regardless of whether it's a hug or not, it's comfortable. You settle against him within seconds. Nil doesn't really respond, but instead shifts a little so that he can hold you in a proper hug— with both arms, this time.

"I guess. I don't know." His voice is gruff, reluctant.

A beat of silence.

"Does this mean something?"

An even longer beat of silence. You can just barely feel his face prod the crook of your neck and his hair tickles you slightly.

"I don't know."

You accept his response and hold him a little tighter, a little closer. Clearly, Nil doesn't mind. This is new, unfamiliar, and a little odd, especially for him— but you're not complaining at all.

A/N: lol why is nil so popular

I kinda left this a little ambiguous because I had a specific way I wanted this to go but I just didn't know how to make it work while also involving like romance and stuff idk it's kind of hard for Nil ig sorryyy

[cup1dlol]

Closed!

i’ve never written something AND published it before so if this sucks i apologize im not the greatest at writing😔🙏🏻

Erik CampbellxFEMreader. Reader wears all pink. Slight NSFW but no smut. NOT proofread. Nipple piercings. Needles. that’s pretty much it🤷🏼‍♀️

“Finally, Jesus i’m ready to close up and go home” Erik sighed as his last appointment walked out the door. For some reason he felt like coming in today even though he had just lost his dad days prior. 

He reached into the back pocket of his jeans for his phone, closing and cleaning up was his favorite part of the day. All he had to do was put on music, sweep up a bit, lock the door, then leave. But there was one thing he forgot to do. Flip the “Open” sign to say “Closed”.

Just as he went to tap the play button on his phone and tune out the rest of the world he heard it. The dreaded sound of the doorbell. 

“Hi sorry are you guys still open? I know it’s late but I just got off work and i saw the sign said open.” 

He faced the door only to see you. God you looked like pink glitter embodied. Blonde hair with pink tinsel in it, pink tube top with white embroidery, ripped white jeans that hugged your thighs, and platform flip flops to complete the look. 

“Well uhm we aren’t technically closed till 11 and it’s uhhh…” he said glancing at his phone.”1032”

 you swore you could’ve seen his eyes flash wide for a millisecond. 

“You know it’s fine i can just come back tomorrow, you’re about to close anyway.” you said pulling up your top getting ready to leave.

 “No no it’s fine we’re technically still open it’s uhm it’s cool.” Erik paused for a bit while you tugged up your shirt, watching your boobs go up and down with the fabric.  

He set his phone down and made his way behind the counter and you excitedly walked up to meet him there

 “So uh what did you have in mind?” he asked grabbing a clipboard and pen. 

“Well i was kinda thinking i wanted to get my nipples pierced” you said smiling while fidgeting with your nail. 

Even your nails were pink, you were like a walking bag of pink starburst.

 “Yeah i could do that, it’ll hurt like a bitch but it’ll look good after.”

 “I’m just gonna need you to sign this and then meet me at the chair in 5.” Erik handed you the clipboard which now had a waver attached to it.

 “Ok great thanks for doing this so late” you grabbed the clipboard and went to the chair to fill it out. 

As Erick walked to that back to grab the supplies he couldn’t help but think about you. The way your top hugged your tits like it was holding on for life and how he got to see them,  let alone poke a hole through them. 

Erik had done many nipple piercings before, mostly on men, but the couple of women he had done them on either came in with their boyfriends or weren’t into guys. You on the other hand were a literal doll, pink from head to toe, and on the opposite side of the color wheel from his usual blacks or greys. 

As he made his way back and closer to the chair he could see your bag sitting next to you with your shirt sticking out. He placed the needles and sanitizer pads on the tray beside the chair only to see you sitting there tits out and hands shaking a bit. 

His breath hitched. 

You handed him back the waver this time it was signed with your signature and a heart at the end. Your hands shook as you gave the clipboard back. 

“Sorry i’m a bit nervous.” you said sheepishly 

“I get it, it’s cool.” he said even though internally he was nervous himself, tits out for him and only him to see. 

“So what made you wanna get your nipples done?” Erik was now attempting to make small talk like he wasn’t rubbing an alcohol pad over your boobs. 

“Well I thought they’d look cool, and whoever i’m with will get a nice surprise whenever i’m topless.” you said looking up at the ceiling fan trying to avoid the awkward moment. 

“Yeah they do look nice  even with a shirt on” He said now getting the needle and clamp ready. “Now this is gonna hurt like a bitch i’m not gonna lie, so get ready.”

 “ready as i’ll ever be for someone to stick a needle through my tit” you said breathing heavy making your chest heave up and down. 

It took every ounce of strength Erik had  to not watch your boobs go up and down for a minute. 

“3…2..1!” the needle was in. You gritted your teeth and inhaled sharply. 

“Good girl you did great on that.” He said putting the barbell through the new hole. 

“God you were right that fuckin hurt. Do the next one before i change my mind please” you said gripping the chair and looking up. 

He chuckled a little and got the needle ready again. “Last one and 3…2…and 1, perfect” he said poking the needle and barbell in again. 

“Fuck that hurt!” You said while angling up your nipple and to look at your new piercings. 

“You like em, they look pretty good on you.” Erik said with a tiny smile. Piercing pretty girls was one of the reasons he wanted this job 

“ Now i’ll let you get your shirt back on and meet me up at the counter and i’ll get you your cleaning solution and everything else.” He said putting the needle in the trash and picking up remaining alcohol wipes. 

As you made your way up to the counter Erik couldn’t help but notice how the barbells poked out through your top. “Thanks again for seeing me, i know it’s late and you wanna go” you said while getting your card out. 

“It’s no problem really, you’re actually the first person to not scream during that.” 

“Really? That’s crazy usually i’m scared of getting a flu shot.” 

“Yeah tons of people come in here and make all sorts of noises. Needles really bring out the weird side of people” 

you giggled a bit. “Maybe another time i’ll come back and get another piercing. I’ll try to make it earlier than 10pm though.” 

He smirked then handed you a black plastic bag with saline solution and cute little heart rings. 

“Now just fwi you have to wait about 4-6 months before you change out the barbells.” He said while sliding back the clip board from earlier. “And you forgot to sign your name at the bottom.” He pointed out the blank part.

“Oh oops sorry” You said grabbing the board and jotting your name down. “Thank you so much” you said placing the clipboard down and walking out the door. 

Erik thought he’d never see you again, or you’d forever be the pink stranger who flashed him on their first introduction. Just as he sighed and turned his music back on he saw it. the words. 

“Call me sometime!” Signed with your name and phone number with a heart.

[batgeance]

the future (very future very far) potential for the absolute angst and resentment for a reevesverse d.ick grayson and j.ason todd to have with broose could be so powerful but also i’d be so leery about it too

[sovamurka]

I'm still thinking about that heartbreaking flashback Ekko has on the bridge in s2ep7.

How it managed to make me feel devastated in literal seconds.

Personally, I think it's the sound design that punches right in the gut.

This bitch right here? The reason why I'm crying in the middle of the night.

Ekko walks on the bridge after his argument with Powder. He's walking, deep in his thoughts, passing by all the bright life cities now share...

...WHILE THESE LYRICS PLAY IN THE BACKGROUND AND MAKE ME WANT TO JUMP OFF THE CLIFF:

And then it gets even better WORSE.

The violin that plays during this moment goes higher and higher, as if Ekko becomes more and more overwhelmed by all the things happening around him. And when he sees the line on the bridge, violin hits its highest point and then suddenly and completely stops.

The only sounds we're left with are the buzzing of flickering light, the sparks and embers burning mid-air and Ekko's heartbeat.

Ekko's terrifyingly fast and deafeningly loud heartbeat.

He was looking at Jinx and his heart was racing in such awful agony that it almost broke his chest.

And then he's snapped out of it. But he doesn't seem to be sure about anything anymore. Especially about his own feelings.

He suddenly looks like he's lost, like he's exhausted, like he's sad.

Because he actually is. He is lost, he is exhausted, he is sad.

He's haunted by the time itself - by the past, by the present, by the future. And yet he moves forward. Because there's no other choice.

[fatedroses]

I know I design him with the intention that he becomes an evasion tank, but there's an irony I find very amusing in making his new magitek armor lighter than his original.

[keeps-ache]

awkward way to have a convo but okay

[plain inks below cut]

[deus-ex-mona]

she’s so proud of herself…