#they just want someone to look after them and they can shut up when you pull out the Grown Up voice

[pathologicalreid]

what goes bump in the night | s.r.

in which Spencer's struggling with violent nightmares after prison, and you find yourself on the receiving end of his tossing and turning

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: reader gets whapped in the face. don't like don't read, please. blood, prison arc, black eye, a lot of guilt. therapy. word count: 1.89k a/n: (this wasn't a request but shout out to the anon who told me i had to repost this after i deleted it) this is some dark shit but i have to admit i do think about the possibility a lot. take care while reading my loves.

Several years in the BAU had inadvertently trained you to wake up at any slight movement or noise. While some might call it paranoia, you considered it to be a finely tuned skill.

Spencer didn’t sleep talk before prison, and even now, he only mumbled in his sleep when he was having a nightmare. Normally, he didn’t move, he just tossed his head around and begged for whoever he was seeing in his nightmare to just hold on. Tonight was different, he sounded like he was pleading for someone to leave him alone, and he was thrashing more than usual.

You knew there was a risk of waking him, but you reached out and gently shook his shoulder anyway. “Spence,” you whispered, not wanting to hurtle him out of his darkened dreamscape.

There was no response. No sign of him coming even close to waking up.

His thrashing became worse, and his mumbling became even less intelligible like something was covering his mouth in his dream. Reaching out from your side of the bed, you tried to grab his hand, hoping it would be something that he could use to ground himself. Gripping his hand, you said his name again, more forcefully this time.

The pain didn’t even register at first. The first thing you recognized was the sensation of having something stuck in your eye, a small twinge in the outer corner that sent your hands flying to the side of your face.

Oh.

With your uninjured eye, you looked up to see Spencer, awake. Breathing heavy, sure, but awake. Very slowly, his breathing slowed, but he had seemingly forgotten that he was sharing a bed with you until you felt liquid trickling from your nose and scrambled to the bathroom before you got blood all over the sheets.

His wide eyes followed your shadow through the bedroom, putting the convoluted puzzle pieces together as he came out from under his nightmare-induced fugue state only to find a different type of panic. You faintly heard him curse and rustle the sheets as you shut the bathroom door harder than you intended.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, your right eye was tearing up as a result of the impact, and your nose was trickling blood down your face. Grabbing a wad of tissues from the box on the counter, you pressed them to your nose, blinking the tears from your eyes to the sound of your heart beating through your chest.

Spencer knocked on the bathroom door, followed by a larger thud that you assumed was him leaning his head against the door. “Can I come in?”

You tried not to sniff, hating the sensation of your nose being covered, you responded, “It’s your bathroom.” Your tone was far too blasé, and Spencer was going to see through it immediately.

“That’s not what I asked,” he told you, a slight tone of desperation ringing through. You knew what he wanted to know; he was asking if you were comfortable with him being in the same room as you – if you’d feel safe with him in the same room as you.

Leaning your head back, you took as deep of a breath as your body would physically allow you before you answered, “Yeah, you can come in.”

Before you had even finished speaking, Spencer had opened the door to the bathroom, letting the light stream into the bedroom, “Fuck,” he murmured when he saw you, “Hey, don’t lean your head back. You don’t want the blood to run down your throat.”

“Okay,” your voice quavered, watching him lift his hands like he wanted to guide your head down until he realized he didn’t know what to do with his hands – he couldn’t bring himself to touch you. Leaning over the sink, you let coagulated blood fall from your mouth, watching it go down the drain before you looked up at Spencer, who watched on in horror at the mess he had created. “Can you grab more tissues?” You asked him, giving him a job to busy his idle hands.

Instantly, Spencer grabbed a handful of tissues and held them out for you, within your range of motion. Still leaning over the sink, you took the new tissues and held them to your nose, haphazardly dropping the soiled tissue in the basin beneath you. “I don’t… What-“

Cutting him off, you spoke, “Do you still have those ice packs? The first aid ones from last year,” you made a new request, giving him a job to perform so that he wouldn’t apologize to you. He’d apologize until he was blue in the face, but you still wouldn’t know how to respond.

He nodded, crouching in front of one of the cabinets and filtering through a first aid kit, hoping to produce a disposable ice pack for you to place near your eye. With the timidness of a newborn foal, Spencer set the plastic on the counter next to you.

Your boyfriend watched as you carefully peeled the tissues from your face, checking to see if the bleeding had stopped, only to quickly replace the tissue when you noticed a trickle of fresh blood making its way down your philtrum. “Aren’t you supposed to pinch it or something?”

“Yes, you can pinch the bridge of your nose to staunch the bleeding,” Spencer said, grabbing your discarded Kleenex and putting them in the garbage bin. He watched intently as you reached up your free hand to pinch your nose, “Does… does it hurt?”

Giving him a quick shake of the head, you met his eyes through the mirror, “I don’t think it’s broken,” you told him, avoiding answering most of his question.

He loosed a sigh of relief, “Thank god,” he murmured, keeping an eye on you as you wondered how terrified he must have been to invoke the name of a deity he didn’t believe in.

Once you were finally able to drop the last of the tissues in the sink, you were faced with an even worse reality. There was no way of escaping the black eye that you already had forming, the tender skin would be further marred with time. “I think it looks worse than it actually is,” you offered meekly, reaching to your side and grabbing the ice pack off of the counter. You popped the center of it before wrapping it in a towel that Spencer had set out for you.

Holding in a hiss as the towel touched your face, you allowed your eyes to wander across the rest of your body. Your shirt had drips of blood on it, but the larger issue was red encrusted all over your face. With the urgency of a sloth, Spencer took a different towel from the drawer and ran it under the tap, wringing it out before holding it up, “May I?”

“Yeah,” you breathed, thankful for your newly cleared airway as you extended your neck, giving him the access he needed to wipe the blood from your chin and neck. “Spence-“

“I’m so sorry,” he interjected, his movements faltering as he let his hand drop to your shoulder.

You shook your head, crinkling the icepack in your hand, you blinked rapidly, hoping to clear your vision. “It’s okay, I shouldn’t have grabbed you,” you told him, it was the truth. He had obviously been having a violent nightmare, and you grabbing him had likely triggered a fight or flight response.

Spencer sighed dejectedly, “I burst a blood vessel in your eye. I’m so…” his voice trailed off in the middle of his sentence, leaving you unsure whether he was going to apologize again or go off on a self-deprecating tirade. “I hit you,” he breathed, abruptly yanking his hands away from you, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have touched you.” Setting the washcloth on the counter, he put his hands up in surrender and stepped away from you.  

Leaning against the bathroom counter, you wished for an inkling – anything you could say to him that would prevent his auto-villainization. “I wish you wouldn’t say it like that. Saying you hit me sounds so…”

“Wrong? That’s because it is,” he said harshly, and you could almost see the storm of self-loathing that was brewing in his mind.

Shaking your head, you adjusted your grip on the icepack before looking up at him, “but it makes it sound like it was intentional. You didn’t hit me, you… thwapped me.”

Spencer loosed a shaky sigh, “I’m not so sure that’s better.”

“Would you prefer bonked?” You proposed, looking at him and hoping for a small smile, but being disappointed when you were met with the same haunted expression. “It was an accident,” you insisted, reaching out your unoccupied hand and taking his hand in yours, “I am fine.”

He scoffed dismissively, “I should have had a better handle on myself.”

You frowned, “You were asleep, Spence. You couldn’t have had a better handle on yourself. It wasn’t on purpose, and you’re taking care of me now,” you told him softly.

“But you’re scared of it happening again,” he challenged you.

When he had come home, you knew he had been changed. Not necessarily for the better or for worse, but he was most certainly changed. You had heard everything in bits and pieces, what had happened in Millburn, what had happened with Cat, but nothing had prepared you for the harshness of your new reality. He was capable of harming others, but that didn’t mean you thought he’d hurt you again. “You’re disappointed in yourself, but you don’t believe you get to feel that way. You’re projecting onto me,” you told him, taking your hand back.

Spencer flinched back, “Don’t profile me.”

“You, Spencer Reid, would never knowingly lay a hand on me,” you insisted, you believed it. You believed it even if he didn’t believe it himself.

The two of you sat in an angst-filled silence before he stood up straight, gently starting to usher you into the bedroom. Handing you a t-shirt from your drawer to change into, you could see his internal struggle as he grabbed a pillow from the bed and made his way toward the door.

Despondently, your shoulders slumped forward, “Where are you going?” You asked softly, hating to watch him leave your shared bedroom over this.

“I’m sleeping on the couch. I’m gonna… I’ll try to set up a meeting with my therapist in the morning. I just…” his voice trailed off as he looked at you with wide, sad eyes, “You’re okay?”

Your heart ached at his voice as you nodded, opening your arms for him and letting out a sigh of relief when he returned to you for a hug. Reaching your free hand behind him, you rubbed his back comfortingly, “We’re going to make it through this, mark my words.”

He nodded in affirmation as he pulled away, “For my own peace of mind, I’ll sleep on the couch for a while.”

You accepted it, knowing that he needed to deal with this in his own way, he closed the door behind him, effectively leaving you alone. Laying back on the pillows with your icepack still clutched to your face, you sighed, wondering how long it had been since your boyfriend felt any semblance of peace of mind.

[luveline]

Hotch’s little sister x Spencer, they gang up on her about her safety or health or something, and she’s like “I’m happy you’re getting along, but don’t love getting ganged up on” 😂

You thought that when things between Spencer and Aaron finally became less awkward again, things would be easier. It was never your intention to drive a wedge between them, but perhaps it’s not your fault. 

After all, Spencer’s the one who chose to date his boss’s younger sister. That was his idea. 

Of course, you ate up his flirting and agreed to all your dates, but still. Spencer’s fault for sure. So why are you in trouble? 

“Honey, I’m honestly a little surprised with you.” Aaron takes a deep breath. “It was a completely unnecessary course of action.” 

Surprised with you is more apt than he realises. “Wait a second, what?” You’d known you were in for a scolding from his weird text, but you have no idea what he’s talking about. 

“You went for a walk in the city alone at midnight?” Aaron frowns. “Have you learned nothing from me?” 

“How do you know I went for a walk?” 

Aaron raises his eyebrows. You look out of the window of his office and straight into the guilty face of your boyfriend. He has the decency not to look away, at least. “Spencer told you that?” 

“He did.” 

You meet the big, soft, beautiful brown eyes of your lovely boyfriend and quirk a finger at him for him to join you in the office. 

“Don’t start, honey.” 

“Aaron, I’m allowed to go for a walk.” 

“In the city? In the middle of the night?” Aaron gives you another unimpressed eyebrow raise. You glare at him, not fond of being questioned. 

“I had my phone.” 

He pinches his brow. 

“Aaron, what’s up with you? I’m well within my rights to go for a walk. I wanted to clear my head. I didn’t go down any side alleys.” 

“You realise you’re being defensive with me because you know it was a silly thing to do.” 

You bristle. The door opens and honestly seeing Spencer’s little frown makes you more annoyed than you had been. “Spencer, why would you tell him my business?” 

“It came up in conversation?” he tries. 

“Spencer.” 

“I was concerned! You can’t just walk around at night in the city by yourself! Who knows what could’ve happened to you, and Hotch agrees with me, it’s too dangerous…” He bites his lip. “I didn’t mean to tattle, and I don’t want to tell you what you can or can’t do.” 

“But I can,” Aaron says. “We all know you’re aware of the danger you put yourself in. Please, don’t do it again.” 

“I feel like I just went back in time a hundred years,” you say. 

“It’s an antiquated attitude, but it’s, you know, grounded firmly in reality,” Spencer says, and you’re surprised to find he isn’t shying away from you now. “It’s reckless. I don’t want to see you get hurt.” 

“It would destroy me,” Aaron says without preamble. “Honey. Please, you can’t do that again, especially without telling someone where you’re going. What if somebody hurt you?” 

You pause to digest what he’s saying. He’d profiled you correctly before —you’re defensive because you already knew you were taking a risk, and you knew if he found out this is how he would react. You hadn’t suspected Spencer would rat you out, but it’s not like he’d been very happy when he learned about it for the first time either. 

“Is this how it’s going to be?” you ask. “You’re going to gang up on me whenever I do something stupid.” 

Aaron’s smile is forgiving and a little bit sorry, too, “I didn’t say stupid, did I?” 

“Reckless,” Spencer supplies. 

“Well. At least you’re both getting along again.” 

“That’s yet to be seen,” Aaron says quickly. 

You wave a hand at Aaron in the universal sign for shut up and turn your full attention to Spencer where he’s laughing in the doorway. You push him out by the chest, not bothering to wait for the office door to close before you start in on him. “That was confidential information, Spencer Reid, which you were privy to as a boyfriend, and not my brother's colleague and conspirator.” 

“I’m sorry.” He smiles, and he’s sincere. “I just knew you’d listen to him.” 

Ugh. Stupid profilers. “Sure, I’ve listened. Now I’m extremely upset and in need of lunch.” 

“Where do you wanna go? I’ll buy,” Spencer says immediately. 

That’s more like it. 

[unluckilyimnot]

Playing with their hair – aether, kinich, wanderer, rin, sae, sakura

note: i'm just in love with aether and kinich recently and i needed to write something with aether's hair so why not had some of my fav characters along with them. that's probably not really good but i guess it's cute. ooc

m.list | rules

Aether is used to your hands suddenly laying on his hair, running through them when you walk behind him – it’s like an urge, you just have to. You stopped on your track, bowing to kiss his head, inhaling his shampoo a little and hummed at the sweet scent.

“You took my shampoo again,” you mentioned, not in a warning way, more like you appreciate it. He nodded lightly, delighting himself from the feeling of your hands still running through his hair, scratching his scalp a little before kissing it again.

Sensing that you’re about to go away, his hands take yours gently and his head bent down to look up at you. “Already leaving ? We can both take a break…” he said, subtly implying you to not stop yet, making you giggle.

“Sure, we can.”

That’s basically how he ended up sitting on the floor between your thighs, watching a movie while you brush his hair for him, kindly letting your fingers run down his beautifully long hair – trying small, low buns to one high ponytail.

“Having fun ?” You can hear the smile in his voice, amused as always when he let you enjoy his hair more than he does.

“Always.” you said while kissing his nose from above, hiding the tv from his sight for a mere second but he still whines at you for doing so. Such a crybaby.

Kinich sighs as he feels your hands examining his hair again. “Would you stop doing that ?”

He knows you’re not doing this to annoy him, yet it always kind of stresses him to picture you scanning his scalp without any invitation to do so. He also knows that you don’t care about what he says, continuing to play with his hair while you swipe away some dandruff here and there.

“What’s the matter,” you talked back, seemingly frustrated. “You never say anything when it’s to help you fall asleep.” you argued, feeling really satisfied when he doesn’t find anything to say after that. It for sure helps a lot, he can’t argue with that, but he really hoped you could realize that it works all the time and not only when he wants it to – which means he was getting sleepy, slightly closing his eyes while he still had a lot to do.

A satisfied sigh escaped his lips before he could hold it in and you hummed teasingly. Your hands moved from his head to his chest, your arms caging him against you and you laid your head on top of his. “Tired already ?”

“Shut it.” he sounded harsh but he still rested against your chest as well, feeling at peace being so close to you. He wasn’t really tired but if you let him, Kinich would for sure appreciate some quality time with his head in your chest and your hands in his hair. Not that he’ll say it to you.

Wanderer honestly never mind when you ask him if you can play with his hair, he’s usually already busy and not moving so someone touching his hair while studying doesn’t change much for him. He won’t say that it doesn’t make it easy to concentrate since he, sometimes, tends to focus on this more than on the words written in front of him but he still appreciates how peaceful it makes him feel when he’s particularly worried or stressed.

Your hand running through his short strands of hair takes him somewhere else where he doesn’t need to worry as much, he likes it, even if he would never be physically capable of telling you.

“You’re braiding it ?” he asks, half absent in his question – he just wanted to confirm the feeling of your fingers brushing past his cheeks repeatedly. You hummed softly in response, leaving the braid dying the second you let it go since his hair was too short to handle it. It doesn’t discourage you though, and before he can ask what you’ll do next, he can already feel your steady movement back to the same scheme and a soft chuckle left his lips.

“You want me to stop ?” you asked under your breath, probably still concentrated on what you were doing but still caught his sigh.

“No, it’s fine. Go on.” he assured before stepping back again into his study, more than relaxing by this short break.

Rin loves movie dates to his core, but it always gets him when you start touching his hair in the middle of the movie. It's like he's never getting used to it and he's jolting a bit every single time, making you chuckle. But you always kiss his head as an excuse after. 

There's something relaxing when your fingers start to twirl around his short hair, making him wonder who appreciates it the most between you and him. Because he for sure loves it. 

His mind drifts away easily despite himself and how badly he wants to follow the movie. He always finds some way to lean into you, craving for more like a cat and more often than not, he ends up laying on top of you. 

“Don't fall asleep this time Rin,” you joke while scratching his head playfully. He simply nodded, absorbed in the movie more than you gave him credit for. He just didn't want you to stop.

Sae hates it when he feels your hands finding his hair in the middle of the day. He spends quite some time styling his hair in the morning, even if it doesn’t look like it, and you being nearby automatically becomes a danger for that.

Not that he doesn’t like you touching his hair, he’s fond of it, he wishes he could die with you touching his hair, but not during the day. So as soon as he feels it, he immediately gets up and warns you. “Please don’t.”

But he knows it can't be helped and soon your lips meet his, kissing him sweetly – your successful way to distract him – so you can end up with your hands reaching the hair in his neck. Twirling your fingers around it, pulling ever so slightly to annoy him but he still lets you. Not without a sigh against your lips, but he knows damn well he can't hold you back when you're determined to do something. 

He wishes he could keep his hair pretty for the day at least once in a while but he can't blame you ; both of you like it very much. He can forget his image for yet another day if that means he can appreciate the relaxing feint of your fingernails on his scalp. Even if lately it's starting to be everyday, he won't mention it – or not seriously. 

Your smile is more precious than some good hair day. 

Sakura still isn't used to you touching his hair, he hasn't been used to gentle gestures in his life before coming here  –  especially regarding his looks. The second your hands find his hair, he flinches by reflex even if he knows that it’s only you around him. He doesn’t turn you down anymore though since you always let him know how you love his hair, for the color or the fluffiness ; it’s just the best thing in the word and it got to be your boyfriend’s hair. You must be blessed. 

You still try not to frighten him too much, and start by touching his shoulders then going up to his neck and finally the hair in the nape of it. Twirling it lightly with your fingers and you’re sure to catch him snapping his head to you with a blush. 

“What are you doing ?!” he asked as always, flustered but not telling you to stop anyway which made you smile sweetly. 

“I’m playing with your hair ? You want me to stop ?” you tilted your head to the side, trying to act cute and confused so he doesn’t have the heart to tell you no. And with a resigned look but his brows still frowned, he compiled without adding anything.It’s a win, once again. 

You then slowly but surely brush through all his hair, tossing it one side to another, mixing the two colors together then separating it again like a puzzle. That’s something you grew to love, separating his hair for him and that’s also your best excuse to touch it even when there’s people around. Even if he’s not fond of it.

He tends to lay a bit in your hand when you do so, or when you stop your hand in his hair, quietly liking the feeling now that you’ve given him some time. Not that he’ll say it to you, never, but he doesn’t need to for you to know. It’s just like you to notice how he relaxes around you and when you do it. There’s a small smile on your lips when he tries to catch your eyes but looks away instantly, blushing again, and it makes you wonder when he’ll stop blushing around you. 

“You’re cute, Haruka,” you said, brushing away his bang to kiss his forehead. And without a second of hesitation – when in fact yes, but you tried to ignore it –  he was arguing with you about how he is NOT cute, simply proving your point again and again.

Let me know if you like it !

[maruflix]

  — ★ hell hath no fury...

☆ — like a woman scorned.

featuring: narumi gen x f!reader

synopsis: it was at this moment narumi gen knew... he fucked up.

contents: female reader, reader is an officer in the first division, hoshina’s little sister!reader, narumi is an idiot, men who beg and grovel, no beta we die like narumi’s hair in the anime

word count: 1,8k

Heav’n has no Rage,

Narumi Gen knows he fucked up.

He can see it in his subordinates’ eyes, in the way they all ignore his silent plea for them to acknowledge the levity of his earlier statement.

“Without me to watch your back, you’re practically dispensable.”

Gen thought everyone knew he was just kidding.

He rethinks that, because you — the one who never backs down from a playful banter — immediately fall silent.

“I-I’m sure the captain didn’t mean that.”

“Of course I did.”

Of course he didn’t. But in the heat of the moment, he can only blame Kikoru for opening her mouth and forcing him to say words he didn’t mean.

Because what else could he do? Apologize?

There’s a heavy tension around the cafetaria table, and it still hangs in the air even after you gathered your belongings and left with a clatter.

like Love to Hatred turn’d,

“Here.”

You barely spare him a glance, opting instead to take a fresh towel from the rack.

Gen purses his lips, gripping the towel he offered you before bringing his hand down to rest on his sides.

“So, uh, you wanna play that new game tonight?”

You’ve been avoiding him these past few weeks and it’s killing him more than he’d like to admit. To usually have you by his side and suddenly be robbed of your company…

You straighten your chin. Gen feels like he’s going to choke.

He’s still standing in the same spot even after you stand up and leave. Behind him, he can hear you laughing with the other officers.

Practice used to be fun, now it’s like he’s walking on eggshells or the chill in the air will freeze him solid if he’s not careful. The worst part? They pretend like nothing is wrong.

It’s not like anything happened after the incident — life goes on as normal in the Ariake Maritime Base. The same practice, the same missions, the same meetings. No one spoke of the incident. Not even you.

Still, he knows your relationship with him changed, and not in the way he intended. He wants to continue being the person who everybody thought is your boyfriend, but is actually your best friend, but it’s complicated because he kinda has feelings for you. But now you won’t even acknowledge his existence.

Gen knows he has to apologize.

But he doesn’t know how.

Nor Hell a Fury,

“What?! You haven’t apologized?!”

Gen doesn’t understand what the big deal is. Everyone knows that you’re always involved in some sort of bickering with him.

The two of you compete about everything. To him, being able to compete with someone fair and square is rare — it’s proof enough that the two of you are on equal footing. So why is everyone acting like one nonsensical sentence from him discredits all your achievements and prowess?

If he says he’s the Director of the Defense Force, will old man Shinomiya instantly step down from his position and give him the spot?

“… No, I don’t feel the need to.”

Eiji shakes his head. “You’re gonna regret that.”

Gen sighs and looks to the side.

Truthfully, he regrets it already. Why else would he discuss his relationship with Hasegawa Eiji, of all freaking people? You ignore his texts, reject all his calls, pretends like he doesn’t exist, and you even exit the room when he comes in. He’s desperate, that’s why.

Gen admits that he was never good with words. He’s better at showing you how he feels through his actions. Now he can’t even do that, because you don’t let him.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Gen breathes out a shaky; “What should I do?”

“I have an idea,” Eiji starts, “but I don’t know if you’re brave enough to do it.”

When Gen opens his eyes, there’s a newfound determination in them.

like a Woman scorn’d.

“Sir, please, you can’t just enter like this..!”

Narumi Gen has never let a kaiju stop him, let alone a mere attendant. He storms his way past the flurry of housekeepers, gardeners, and household staff — all of them combined is not nearly enough to stop him.

He halts in front of the wooden steps leading up to the front doors, huffing and catching his breath.

The stately Hoshina Estate looks intimidating with the shiny thatched roofs reflecting the brilliant sun.

The attendants have caught up to him now, their footsteps thudding on the rocks behind him. Hushed whispers of his identity and his purpose of coming reverberates through the field, making his chaotic heart thunder loudly in his chest.

“(Y/N), please come out! I’ve come to see you!”

For a moment, no one dares to step forward.

What is the Narumi Gen doing here? It’s no secret that Japan’s strongest anti-kaiju combatant has always been at odds with the Hoshina Family’s Hoshina Soshiro, but why has he come seeking for their young lady?

They all wait with bated breath. There is no response. What will he do next?

Gen gets down to his knees.

“(Y/N), please..!!”

The attendant from before scrambles to his side, gripping his arm in an effort to drag him out. Gen stubbornly stays rooted to his spot. He’s prepared to do this, however long it takes.

“Sir, please don’t cause any problems!”

“I just need a few seconds, please!” Gen frantically reasons, “(Y/N), I want to apologize, so please come out, damn it!”

A second attendant seizes his other arm, and just as he thought he’s going to fail, the front doors slide open.

Gen looks up to see you staring down at him. Next to you, your brother crosses his arms as his gaze trails down to him in amusement. The two Hoshina siblings, dressed in hakama, katanas resting snugly on both your hips as it gleams in the sunlight.

A shiver runs down Gen’s spine at the coldness of your glare.

The attendants immediately bow in your presence, “Our apologies for the ruckus. This person suddenly broke down the gate and forced his way in, insisting to meet with the Young Lady,” The attendant throws Gen a glare, to which he ignores, “Young Lord Soshiro, should we throw him out?”

“Should we, Lil’ Sis?” Hoshina Soshiro wraps an arm around you protectively, “What’s this clown doing here anyway. Should I get Soichiro?”

“No, no, wait! (Y/N), I made a mistake!” Gen inches his body up but immediately bows back again to retain his kneeling position, his legs now shivering from adrenaline, “I didn’t mean what I said that day! I was wrong, and I.. I’m sorry!”

He’s pretty sure the entire household can hear him screaming, but he genuinely doesn’t give a shit.

“You’re indispensable to the First Division and you totally don’t need me to watch your back, I was just.. I don’t know what I was thinking,” Gen doesn’t even dare to lift his face up, “I really regret saying those words, I…”

“Look at me when you apologize.”

Your sharp reply makes his head jolt upwards.

He can see an amused smirk creeping on your lips as you finally humor his attempt of trying to get your forgiveness.

“So you stormed my family estate just for this? Can’t this wait ‘til tomorrow?”

Gen shakes his head. “I’ve waited long enough to apologize. Am I forgiven?”

You smile. “Well, now. No need to beg.”

Like a cue, the attendants finally let go of his aching arms.

You step to the side, inviting him to enter. “I was just training with my brothers. Wanna join?”

Gen practically beams as he makes his way to you. He trips on the last step, almost falling on his face, and smiles sheepishly when he finally reaches the door. “Pardon the intrusion.”

The two men watches as you walk back inside with a smile on your face.

Soshiro shakes his head. “Yer’ a mess.”

Gen laughs. “For your sister, I always am.”

They make their way inside, walking in a comfortable pace.

“Don’t let Soichiro hear that. Yer’ gonna get a beating.”

“If that means we can be brother-in-laws, sure.”

Soshiro scrunches his nose in disgust. “Wouldn’t count on it. Yer’ not even dating.”

Gen hums. Maybe he should ask Eiji how to go about that.

taglist: @bgyuus, @plsmarrymehioriyo, @o-sachi, @iamjellyfish, @vashyuu, @moon-cakiie, @17020, @eeiternity, @ryescapades, @vash-yuu, @yueliie (tags not working as usual so i will be tagging in the comments smh)

[pretty-little-mind33]

ＳＨＯＲＴ ＡＮＤ ＳＷＥＥＴ

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴏɴᴇ

muggle au poly!marauders x fem!reader

Summary: You introduce yourself to the bookstore next door.

Warnings: none

"𝒪𝒽, 𝐼 𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓆𝓊𝒾𝓉𝑒 𝒶𝓃 𝒾𝓂𝓅𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓈𝒾𝑜𝓃"

The air is chilly as you pull your jumper over your shoulders, balancing your silver tray in one hand. You blow some hair from your eyes and close on the door to your small cafe, the bell chiming after you. While technically you don't officially open until 10 am for brunch this morning, you had planned an assortment of mini-drinks and pastries to bring to the neighboring businesses so you could introduce yourself to them. 

Your first destination is the bookstore across the street. It's an old red-brick building, accompanied by a worn-out wooden door and a wooden sign where the name, "Moony's Library" is proudly displayed in chipped white paint. It looks homey and antique and when you walk over and can see that the small plaque on the door says closed. You knock anyway.

You receive no answer. 

Biting your lip, you hold your tray tighter against your sides, frowning as you raise your arm awkwardly to try again. Still no answer. You try the handle this time. You could have sworn you saw someone in the window. The door opens with a creak as you tentatively push on it and hesitantly, you step inside.

Just as you do, your shoe hits the slightly raised step of the entrance, bending your ankle awkwardly as you almost fall over. You gasp, catching yourself just in time as none of your drinks spilled or pastries fall. 

Thankful no one saw you—

"Clumsy, aren't you?" a voice drawls from the corner of the room and you jump, almost dropping the tray again. When you turn, you see a man sitting in an armchair in the corner, his left foot bound in a medical boot. His crutches lay against the side of the armchair.

The man is strikingly handsome, with his round glasses resting on his nose and his messy dark hair curls framed around his sharp hazel eyes. He isn't smiling, instead he is simply smirking like he knows something you don't know. 

"You scared me." Your voice sounds more intimidated than anticipated, and you walk towards the counter, placing the tray near some old books. You're careful not to ruin them as your cheeks burn warm. "I knocked," you point out, afraid he'll accuse you of being a trespasser. 

"I heard," the man says with a chuckle.

Your eyebrows scrunch and he reads your mind. 

"We're closed. Didn't want to stand and open the door when we are closed." The man shrugs and as handsome as he is, you don't like how he's practically making fun of you. His eyes land on the drinks and trays and his lips curl, his voice a little more lighthearted this time. He makes a guess. "You own Whisk and Whims Cafe?" 

You nod and walk over, holding one of your drink samples to him. "This is a Caramel Cappuccino. It's called Autumn Swirl," you say and then pause a moment. "My name is Y/n," you add quietly.

The man takes the drink and drinks it all in one go. He smiles and looks at you again. "Decent," he teases, wiping the foam from his lips. "Hint of cinnamon?"

You nod again as another voice interrupts you. "James. Be nice, will you?" The man, James, rolls his eyes at this and leans back in the armchair, adjusting his boot with a grunt. You look behind you at the newcomer and your heart leaps. It's another man, just as handsome as this one. He looks taller and lankier and he has deep scars adorning his skin, accompanied by faint freckles you can only see if you focus very hard. Which you are. His dusty dark-blond hair swooshes almost perfectly. He's breathtaking and you lose your train of thought. 

"Hi, I'm Remus," the man comes up and holds out his hand, "Ignore my friend here, he can be grumpy in the morning."

You nod, looking at Remus and then James.

"Shut up, Moony."

"Moony," you whisper, referring to the bookstore's name. You look at Remus directly and smile. "You're the owner."

Remus chuckles and hums, strolling behind the counter. He looks around the old-fashioned bookstore; the books are arranged on tall bookshelves all around, wooden ladders accompanying the slightly dusty shelves. The ceiling is painted mural style, adorned by golden trim. His hand smoothes over an old book and then he looks at your tray of pastries and drinks.

"And you must be my new neighbor."

You smile and point to one of the small sample cookies. "Chocolate chip," you say and smile at Remus, "you seem like a chocolate kinda guy."

"Couldn't have said it better myself, love," James interrupts from behind you. He's leaning on one of his crutches, his broad shoulders flexing as he rolls them. He's smiling at you, towering over you as he leans one of his arms on the counter. 

Your cheeks feel warm again. "Are you partners?" You ask. 

James laughs loudly, his pretty lips turning into a smile. "No," Remus answers, finishing the cookie as he wipes the crumbs from his lips. "Jamie here is just helping while he recovers from his injury."

Your gaze falls to James's boot and he catches your gaze, his jaw clenching as he captures your chin in his hand, keeping your eyes on him. Fuck, you think as you look at him and his touch sends a jolt of electricity, he's so handsome.  

"Eyes up here, darlin'," he grumbles. The boot is obviously a sour subject for him and your eyes snap up. 

You nod, entranced. James smirks and drops your chin, his hand lingering in the air. Remus clears his throat and your attention is pulled to him again. "Y'know, I was thinking we could do something fun with our businesses—" Remus offers, stealing your attention as James's smile disappears and he clears his throat, turning to look at some of the books on the shelf. 

You turn to Remus fully now, fiddling with the small sample cups. "Oh?"

Remus nods. "I mean, a cafe and bookstore? A match made in heaven," he explains his plan, "I'm thinking we could host some events. Perhaps an evening tea book club? And we could have opportunities to blend our businesses, for example, one book purchased here could earn them one coupon at Whisk and Whims and some bonus coupons if they read the book in your cafe. I could also have James build you a bookshelf, he's my personal handyman, with sample books from here to bring in more customers, ones they could buy potentially—"

"Who said I would build you the bookshelf— I'm injured—" James interjects.

"James," Remus sends his friend a glare and you smile.

"I'd like that," you interrupt, loving Remus's plan. You feel happy that you've found him and your smile widens. "Thank you," you say honestly.

Remus's heart leaps at that smile you wear and he has to shake himself, clearing his throat. "Oh, y-yeah, no problem," he says, his Welsh accent slipping out because he's nervous and James sends him a curious look.

When you return to your café, the interactions replay in your head. You switch the open sign, humming as the mental image of James's curly hair and Remus's smile causes you to feel an unfamiliar giddiness in your chest. The morning is slower, which you'd expected from your first day, but you don't mind as your mind wanders. 

Eventually, the clock strikes one, and that familiar bell rings. You look up from where you're rearranging the cookies in the window. There are only a few customers and you only have a few staff so you see him instantly. 

You jump up, rushing to the door to open it for him since he does have crutches at the moment. However, you almost slam into a doe-eyed redhead as she holds the door open for James. Your eyes widen and you stumble back, hand finding your apron as you suppress the embarrassment coursing your veins.

The girl turns to you, skin pale and eyes a shiny emerald green. Her cherry red hair is braided to the side and she looks behind her, smiling as James helps himself through the door. He lifts his head, staring at you.

"Y/n," he says your name, a little surprised to find you here and not behind the counter. Where you should be. He turns to his girlfriend—friend? And for the first time since you'd met him today, he smiles warmly, "Thanks, Lils," 

James looks at you again and this time, the smile stays. "Remus is still busy but I wanted to stop by and see how business is," he looks around the mostly empty room and his smile falters just enough for you to see the change. Your embarrassment grows. 

Lils interrupts him, "For your first day, it's quite good! It took Sirius months to fill out his store, right, Jamsie?" 

You look at her, grateful for the kind words, and unclench your hands from your apron. You push away the embarrassment and gesture to a small table near the window, "This one is free," you back away, your voice a little shaky as you ask them, "What can I get you?"

"I'll have another Autumn Swirl," James teases you as he staggers over with the girl's hand around his muscular arm. "Lily will have anything with matcha." He laughs and Lily rolls her eyes at him, but then she nods at you. 

"Thanks," she says and then smiles. Her smile is the prettiest thing you have ever seen and when you return behind the counter to make their order, you feel stupid. Of course, someone like James is already in a relationship! What were you thinking—developing a school-girl crush on a guy you'd met only hours ago? 

You shake your head, successfully diminishing the warmth from your cheeks but only worsening that pit in your stomach as you do your best to focus on the drinks instead of hearing James's, already intoxicating, laughter from across the room. 

tags: @nubigenouss

~ THANK YOU FOR READING! this is my first series. I'm nervous but hopefully you like this! very slow burn ;) ik Sirius isn't in this one, but he will be soon! ~

[li-x1nyu]

when someone insults you for being with il capitano

but you take matters into your own hands.

capitano x harbinger gn!reader, violence, mentions of blood, swearing, hanging, smidge of angst

a/n: help im so down bad for the fatui harbingers. if villain why hot??

"there's no way il capitano actually likes them." the sound of your lover's name stops you in your tracks. you were just trying to take a walk, but what's this?

"yeah," a different voice says, "i mean, they're so much weaker compared to him!"

"the first harbinger shouldn't settle for someone as low as the tenth!"

your heart drops.

in normal circumstances, you would tell capitano about it, who would track them down without a doubt. you try to appear friendly to your people, instead of unapproachable like certain harbingers.

but today is not a day where you feel merciful.

you turn the corner and see three drunk-looking men huddled in the alleyway.

someone has to teach a lesson.

there's waves of murmurs throughout the townspeople the next day. it's a clear morning, a cool crispness in the air.

capitano's hand rests on the other side of your waist, beneath your heavy coat.

the people huddling are blocking your view, but they are all pointing upwards and whispering.

the two of you follow their gaze to see three men hanging by the neck from the wooden beams of the city, bleeding out and barely alive.

your lover's hand finds yours with a gentle squeeze. "maybe you should head back, darling," he says in a low voice, "you don't have to see this."

"it's alright," you reply, eyes narrowing at the sight before you. you did it after all.

heels clicking, you let go of capitano's hand, making your way to the three. harden your heart, you tell yourself. the crowd parts for you, talking in hushed tones.

when the first man sees you, he starts to beg. half of you relishes in it, the other half feels sick.

"please," his voice is hoarse, blood dripping from his lips, "please, we're so sorry."

you ignore the churning in your stomach.

"we have families," he continues, "p-please.."

one of them has already stopped breathing.

"we didn't mean it, milady," the other stammers. "we've learned-"

the ropes are slashed and they all fall to the floor, dead or alive. gasps rise from the crowd.

you don't say a word. you're not sure you'd be able to if you wanted to.

the only sound in the square is heels on cobblestone, and then suddenly capitano is beside you as you walk away.

"chin up," he says sternly, but not unkindly. "shoulders back, don't break. you can do it."

so you hold your head high until the doors of the fatui's abode shut.

capitano's arms go around you, hands brushing your back. you tuck your head under his chin, avoiding the sharp edges of his helmet. "show them, darling," his voice rumbles with pride. "you did well."

[munsonsmixtapes]

If you’re taking requests I would love a fluffy fic between Logan and a usually sunshine! Reader with mutant powers similar to Charles (telepathic). Specifically, one where the usual gang decide to go to a rowdy club to let off steam after a mission. Usually the reader loves team bonding but due to the music, all the thoughts jumping out of the drunk crowd, and her own drinking, she gets super overstimulated and essentially shuts down. Maybe Logan sees her off on her own and trying to manage to get over her dizzy spell while some guy is bothering her and decides to step in and escort her out for a breather and a walk. ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡. Regardless if you pick this up, I hope you’re having a great week and I look forward to whatever you post next!

Thank you so much! I hope you're having a great week as well!

cw: mention of alcohol, reader gets anxious

The club was crowded when you entered it. You were all looking forward to letting off steam after your mission and you just liked to spend time with the team, Logan especially. Even though he never would have admitted it, he had a soft spot for you. You were the newest addition to the group and he just felt the need to protect you. You hadn't gotten full control of your powers yet and he wanted to make sure that nothing went wrong.

You made a beeline fore the bar and ordered your usual drink before sitting down on one of the stools, making conversation with everyone around you, even making them laugh with whatever you were talking about. That was one thing that Logan admired about you, that you were always able to make conversation with anyone you came across, which was not something he could do even if he wanted to. He didn't have your charisma or that bright, bubbly personality that he adored so much.

Once he saw that you were okay, he moved further back into the club, but decided to sit somewhere he could still see you. He didn't like drinking when he was doing things like that. He wanted to be one hundred percent alert so he had no problem volunteering to be the designated driver even though his mouth watered anytime he saw someone drinking one of his go-to drinks.

You sipped on your drink as you made conversation with the man next to you. You really hoped that he wasn't going to make a move, though. That wasn't something you were looking for and people often took your niceness for flirting which made the whole thing awkward.

I wonder how long it will be before I can take her home

Your eyebrows furrowed as the thought that definitely wasn't yours and you realized you were reading the mind of the man who was sitting next to you involuntarily. That had only happened when you were overwhelmed or if you had gotten a few drinks in you so you tried to not go overboard because of that.

And all of a sudden, so many thoughts that weren't yours were flooding your brain, making it ache. And between that and the loud music and the alcohol in your system, you were suddenly feeling overstimulated.

You set your drink down on the bar and clutched yor head with both hands, feeling it pounding, almost as if was going to explode. You didn't know what to do, but what you did know was that you needed to get out of there, and fast.

Logan watched everything unfold from his seat, watching you holding onto your head, seeing the tears streaming down your cheeks even from there. And before he could stop himself, he was making a beeline for you, scooping you into his arms before ushering you out of the building.

He was carrying you by the time you got to the door, knowing that you didn't have it in yourself to walk. And he just wanted to get you out of the madness as quick as possible. He had never seen you like that before and hated the feeling he got in his chest watching you struggle like that.

Logan got you out of the club in record speed and set you down, pulling you to his chest, hoping that getting you out of there was actually helpful to your situation. And it was. As soon as you got out into the open air, the voices fled, the pressure in your head slowly dissipating.

He pulled you to his chest as you cried, stroking your hair while his other hand rested on his back. You held onto him so tightly, convinced that if you didn't, he would just disappear. But he wouldn't. Logan would never leave you and he had told you that numerous times when he helped clean up your injuries after a mission.

"You're okay," he murmured into your hair. "I'm here. Just listen to my heart, okay?"

Logan had to admit that he was never good at comforting people, but with you, it was like second nature. He was able to do it so easily, always knowing exactly what you wanted or needed to hear. And he had gotten so good at it that he noticed you seeking him out for advice or help when you needed as opposed to going to the others.

You pulled away to look at him once you had calmed down and he reached up to wipe your tears away, trying to make sure that you were doing okay before leading you to where he parked his car.

"I have some ice cream in my freezer with your name on it," he said as he opened the passenger door for you.

"You know me so well," you smiled as you got into the car. And he did. He knew you better than you knew yourself and you were grateful for that. Someone needed to look out for you and you were just glad that it was always Logan.

[vrystalius]

sniff sniff I SMELL AN AMAZING BLOG!1!1! I REALLY LOVE EVERYTHING YOU WRITE KEEP UP THIS AMAZING MASTERPIECE!1!1! Also can i request the first 3 uppermoons with a female reader human who likes to bite them a lot? Like imagine training and you feel a bite on your shoulder or talking and then! BOOM! reader cutely bites their nose and cheek :3

Biting the Upper Moons

How will the Upper Moons react to their human biting different areas of their body?

Pairing: Kokushibo, Douma, Akaza x reader

Biting areas included: Ear, nose, cheek, bicep, arm

Kokushibo

Ear: 3/10

To reach his ear, you first have to brush some hair away, meaning Kokushibo will be aware of your intentions. You don’t whisper into his ear out of nowhere, but you do like to bite him there. So, most of the time, he’s simply dodging your attack before you could come any closer. He’s very hyperaware of his senses, meaning he doesn’t want anything to disturb them. Especially his vision and hearing.

“Do not even try.”

Nose: 3/10

Your face rapidly approaching his might suggest a kiss at first, but your mischievous grin told a different story. Similar with ears, Kokushibo simply dodges you. If you annoy him further with attempts to bite him, he’ll threaten to bite you first, flashing his sharp teeth at you. That usually shuts you down and leave him to meditate in peace. Sometimes, in a moment of weakness, he lets you bite his nose. His whole face would scrunch up in dissatisfaction and will remain like that for the rest of the day.

“Why are you so insistent of biting me? Did you have issues during childhood?”

Cheek: 4/10

He barely has any cheeks to bite onto, so you’ll resolve to biting his chin. Again, Kokushibo mistakes you leaning in for you wanting a simple kiss, so he obliged and parts his lips slightly in anticipation. He truly is too trusting with you, he learned that the moment you bit his chin and then scrambled away to hide. He didn’t bother to chase you, it was his fault that he’s letting his guard down like that. Perhaps he’s too lenient and loving with you.

“How foolish of me to think that you, my spouse, wanted affection from me.” (Is he even capable of sarcasm? Everything he says sounds to serious.)

Bicep: 8/10

Feeling you bite his bicep makes him feel oddly proud of his muscles. Is this your way of complimenting his body? Or a way to seduce him? Because weirdly enough, Kokushibo gets aroused when you bite him there. It reminds him of other moments where you desperately hold onto his bicep and shoulders and the way your face contorted into pure ecstasy. Perhaps you biting his bicep like that is your way to invite him into your bedroom? He’ll have to ask you why exactly you chose to bite his bicep out of all places.

“Are you trying to court me, dear? Just say the word and I’m yours tonight.”

Arm: 6/10

You biting his arm randomly during certain tasks amuses him slightly. It’s kind of fascinating to him why you are doing this. Do you crave his attention this badly? Once your teeth sink into his skin, his muscles would tense and Kokushibo might pull you around a little, like how someone would do with a puppy or energetic toddler. But do not expect him to look enthusiastic. His face will remain stone cold while playing tug-war with you. You have to be beware of how easily he gets fed up with the games though.

“Release my arm. Now.”

Douma

Ear: 6/10

It’s amusing to him how you continue to find ways to catch his attention. If Douma is busy preparing for another sermon, cleaning himself off after a feeding or just simply lounging around, you come up to him and bite his ear. He giggles loudly and would try to bite you back in any way. One time, he snuck up on you. As a payback for biting his ear very harshly that day, Douma wanted to bite yours in return! You jumped very violently once he pounced onto you and bit down onto your ear. From that day on, you now have an additional earhole in your ear for even more jewrely! That was his plan all along! Totally!

“How about I bite your other ear so you have symmetrical ear holes? That way, I can get you even more earrings! Wouldn’t you like that, lotus? …No? Okay.”

Nose: 7/10

It’s so cute to him! You mostly do it when you two nuzzle your noses together affectionately when you chomp down onto his. It surprised him, yes, but it’s so so cute! You being so adorable and just biting him stirs some kind of cuteness-aggression within him. Douma would trap you in his strong and large arms, squeaking and nuzzling his face against you. He’ll probably bite you in all kinds of areas himself during this fit, kicking his feet and grinning brightly.

“You’re so cute! My adorable little human! I could just eat you right up!! Lemme have a taste, hm? May I?”

Cheek: 5/10

Out of all the ways you bit him before, cheek bites are his least favourite. Not that Douma hates it, he just prefers to be bitten in other ways. Cheek bites remind him of cheek pulling, wich reminds him of a way a mother would scold her child. No mother ever bit her child’s cheek as a form of punishment (as far as Douma is aware of), but just feels like it. Gentle nibbles make him grin and pepper your face in kisses, but a whole bite and pull makes him whine loudly. He’d rather not get them.

“Mhh, don’t do that! Ouch… Give me a kiss on the cheek instead!”

Bicep: 8/10

Douma grins at your antics again, but this time, his smile is much more darker. You really are a brave one, aren’t you? Did you forget that he is still a demon? He only lets you bite him because you stir such strong emotions inside of him. Oh if only he can bite you back and taste your flesh on his tongue… You must taste like a heavenly feast, your blood rivalling those of marechi in taste and sacredness. Perhaps if Douma asks nicely you’ll let him try a droplet your blood. But for now, he’ll let you bite his bicep as you please. You look cute while doing it and he can barely feel it tickle, so why not?

“Dear Lotus, how about a little deal? I’ll let you bite down as hard as you like in exchange for a teeny tiny droplet of your blood?”

Arm: 7/10

Aren’t you just adorable! Douma’ll let you bite his arm and maybe even pull some flesh out if you like, as long as you’re enjoying yourself. He likes watching you entertain yourself like this with his body, it’s a great opportunity to observe some human emotions on your face. Seeing you so happy and excited about something simple like biting down onto his arm makes him wonder if you want to bite other areas in his body as well. Douma wonders if you’ll have different reactions to different firmness or taste of his skin. For example, will you bite him more often if he rubs some sugar onto his skin? Or how will you react if you bite his flexed thigh? Oh the opportunities! He might have to write down a list of reactions and behaviours he wants to test out on you!

“Lotus, how about you bite my chest? I can flex them a little and- hm? No, it’s one of my kinks, I’m just curious about something!… No, not like that! My, what a filthy mind you have.”

Akaza

Ear: 1/10

It sounds weird to him when you nibble his ear. It makes his whole body shiver, and not in a very good way. Akaza will side eye you in slight disgust whenever you even attempt to bite his earlobe. Playing it off and feigning innocence doesn’t help either and he’ll avoid you for the rest of the day/night. He doesn’t want to risk you even thinking about it.

“Don’t. You. Dare.”

Nose: 3/10

Nibbling his nose makes his whole face scrunch up in uncomfortableness. It tickles when you bite his nose and Akaza doesn’t like the way it makes him feel childish. He hates being tickled overall and almost always fights back as gently as he could against your tickle-assault, but you only biting his nose and immediately backing off feels like some kind of way to cheese his reaction. You get to see how his face scrunches together and how much he hates being tickled while also not feeling or seeing the consequences of doing so. Biting and running off is too fast for Akaza to process immediately since he almost always lets his guard down around you to show how much he trusts you. Yet, you prove to him how untrustworthy you truly are, you minx.

“Come back! You don’t get away with this again!”

Cheek: 6/10

Tolerates it at best, pushed you away at worst. Akaza doesn’t really mind you nibbling onto his cheek, as long as you don’t disturb him during something. He’ll actually welcome it when you two are cuddling, for example. He’ll even grin a little at your adorableness when you do, but if you draw his attention away from his training just to nibble against his cheek, Akaza will glare at you. Also, he doesn’t like to admit it, but he also likes to nibble a little on your cheek as well. Especially when Akaza is cuddling you and you blush. Your cheeks are very warm and nice to bite onto!

“Can we do that later? I’m busy right now.”

Bicep: 8/10

Akaza would also feel very prideful when you bite down onto his bicep. He doesn’t want to appear weak in front of you, so he’ll try to figure out when you’re planning to bite him. That way, he’ll flex his whole arm as a way of showing off. But also, that way, you started biting him more less. It’s not so nice to chew onto a boulder-like muscle, so you preferred softer areas in his body (like his cheek). But Akaza wanted you to bite his bicep! He wants you to feel how strong and powerful he is! So, he started offering his not-flexed bicep to bite onto. Now, it’s one of your favourite areas to nibble!

“You’re a really odd one. I chose the weirdest human to love.”

Arm: 7/10

Similar to his bicep, Akaza wants to flex his forearm in order to demonstrate how powerful he is! But after noticing how you preferred softer areas, he reluctantly offered his softened arm to you to bite down onto. Once you start biting down hard, he’ll notify you to stop immediately by flexing his muscle. It’s not like he feels any pain when you bite down as hard as you can, it just… tickles.

“Let go. Let go now. Hey! No! Let go of my damn arm!!”

💠

I am thinking about posting some sort of NSFW drabble for Douma I’ve been thinking about the oast few days… Maybe during Oktober. But anyways, thank you for reading! I hope you’ll continue to enjoy my blog!! Also, I have now written three fics that include biting in some form… does that say something about me or you guys? XD But keep requesting anything you like!!

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!!

Take care of yourselves <3

[violettwrites]

in the arms of the broken — daryl dixon

a/n: to the dear nonnie that requested this 🫶🏻 thank u sm i absolutely adored writing this (i rly should be sleeping but i can’t so here i am) i hope you enjoy !!

if you enjoyed reading this, please support me by giving me a like, reblog, and/or comment ! don’t forget to follow me either if you want to read more of my stuff !

request: anon said — “i also like the dialogue prompt ‘i don’t know… i’ve never seen her like this’ that tugs at the heart strings”

summary: reader cannot cope with the way the world has become, during a particularly hard night for themselves, daryl dixon is the one to comfort them.

warnings: angst/sadness ,,, thats it rly

word count: 1,241

recourses: divider by @adornedwithlight

➵ tp!daryl masterlist

➵ regular masterlist

here is my ask box !

the night was quiet except for the crackle of the fire, but it felt wrong—like the world had gone still, holding its breath. you sat by the flames, knees drawn to your chest, staring blankly into the flickering light. the heat touched your skin, but it didn’t reach you, didn’t chase away the cold that had settled deep inside.

daryl watched you from a distance, leaning against a tree with his arms crossed over his chest. he’d been keeping an eye on you for days, noticing the way you’d been pulling away from everyone, isolating yourself. you’d always been strong, always held it together for the sake of the group, but something was different now. something had changed, and it scared him. you were like a shadow of yourself, your spirit drained, your eyes distant.

rick approached him, eyes flicking over to you before meeting daryl’s. “how’s she holdin’ up?”

daryl didn’t answer right away, his jaw tightening as he watched the way you sat so still, your body hunched like the weight of everything had finally become too much to carry. he shook his head, his voice quiet and rough. “i don’t know… i’ve never seen her like this.”

rick nodded, his expression grim. “she’s been through a lot. more than most of us. maybe she just needs some time.”

rick can recall the first time they found you, smack bang in the middle of atlanta, all alone. you were covered in blood and guts, and if he hadn’t actually heard how you begged for help when he saw you, your voice barely audible, he honestly would have thought you were just another walker.

“time ain’t gonna fix what’s broken,” daryl muttered under his breath, the frustration simmering beneath his skin. time wasn’t enough when you were drowning, when you couldn’t see a way out of the darkness. and he hated that he didn’t know how to pull you out.

rick gave him a look, one that said everything he didn’t need to say out loud. “you’re the one she’ll listen to, daryl. talk to her.”

daryl stood there a moment longer, watching the way you curled into yourself, like you were trying to disappear. every instinct in him told him to go to you, but he hesitated, unsure if his words would even matter. still, he couldn’t just leave you like this.

he finally pushed off the tree and walked over, his boots crunching softly against the dirt. he lowered himself to the ground beside you, sitting close enough that you could feel his presence, but not so close that he’d crowd you.

for a while, neither of you said anything. the fire crackled between you, the only sound breaking the silence of the night. daryl wasn’t sure how to start, wasn’t good with words even on the best of days. but he knew you, and he knew the way you got when things started to spiral out of control in your head.

“you don’t gotta shut us out, y’know,” he finally said, his voice gruff but soft. “we’re all here for ya.”

you didn’t respond at first, your eyes still fixed on the flames like they held some kind of answer you were searching for. after a long moment, you sighed, your voice barely a whisper. “i’m tired, daryl.”

those words hit him like a punch to the gut. he’d seen people break before, seen the way this world could wear someone down until there was nothing left. but hearing you say it, seeing you like this—it scared him more than he wanted to admit.

“i know,” he said quietly. “we all are. but we’re still fightin’. you’re still fightin’.”

you shook your head, your voice trembling as you spoke. “i don’t know if i can anymore. every day feels like it’s getting harder. like… like i’m losing pieces of myself.”

daryl’s chest tightened. he’d always admired your strength, the way you kept going no matter how hard things got. but now, hearing you say you were falling apart—it made him realize just how much he hadn’t noticed.

“you ain’t losin’ yourself,” he said, his voice firm but gentle. “you’re still here. we’re still here.”

you swallowed hard, tears brimming in your eyes. “i feel like i’m drowning. like no matter what i do, it’s never enough. i can’t save everyone, daryl.”

that was it, wasn’t it? the burden you carried, the weight of trying to protect everyone, to hold the group together when everything was falling apart. it was breaking you.

daryl shifted closer, his hand reaching out to rest on your arm, hesitant at first, but firm once it was there. “you don’t gotta save everyone. that ain’t on you.”

your voice cracked as you spoke, the tears spilling over now. “but if i don’t… who will?”

daryl’s heart clenched at the raw pain in your voice. he wished he had the right words, wished he could take that weight off your shoulders. but he knew he couldn’t fix everything. what he could do, though, was remind you that you weren’t alone.

“you don’t have to,” he said, his thumb gently brushing your arm in a way that was more comforting than he realized. “we’re all in this together. you ain’t gotta carry the world by yourself.”

you turned to look at him, and the vulnerability in your eyes nearly broke him. he wasn’t used to seeing you like this, so lost and fragile. he hated it. he hated that you felt like you had to carry the world alone, that you felt like you were drowning.

“i don’t know how to stop feeling like this,” you whispered, your voice shaking. “everything feels so heavy.”

daryl swallowed hard, his own heart aching at how much pain you were in. he didn’t know how to take that pain away, but he could be there for you. he could be the one thing you could hold on to when everything else felt like it was slipping away.

“you ain’t alone,” he said, his voice low but steady. “you got me. no matter what, you got me.”

you looked at him then, really looked at him, and for the first time in days, you felt like you could breathe just a little easier. his words were simple, but they grounded you. daryl had always been your anchor, and in this moment, you needed him more than ever.

without thinking, you leaned into him, your forehead resting against his shoulder as the tears came harder, your body shaking with the force of them. daryl didn’t hesitate. he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer, his hand rubbing slow circles on your back.

“let it out,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “it’s okay. i got ya.”

and for the first time in a long time, you let yourself fall apart. you let the tears come, let the pain you’d been holding in for so long spill out. daryl didn’t say anything more, didn’t need to. he just held you, his presence steady and unwavering, letting you know without words that you didn’t have to carry this burden alone.

the fire crackled softly beside you, but the world felt a little less cold with daryl holding you. you weren’t okay. you weren’t sure when—or if—you’d ever be okay again. but for now, in his arms, you felt like you didn’t have to be.

and maybe that was enough.

[too-many-hyperfixations]

Transformers One Megatron Character Analysis

The movie calls him something else for a lot of its runtime. I’m calling him Megatron because that’s what we know him as and it’s cooler. Spoilers for the movie and a TON of paragraphs ahead.

Megatron’s arc in Transformers One isn’t primarily about betraying Optimus, it’s about his trust in authority is shattered and how that affects all other forms of trust for him.

We meet Megatron in this movie before he believes himself on the level of the primes and thus not having taken up the name of one. This movie is Optimus��� movie, as most transformers movies are, so we have to encounter Meg through him. Meg’s first time speaking his own mind rather than just covering for Orion is on the train shortly after his initial onscreen appearance, where he chided Orion for breaking into the archives yet a g a i n. The reason he does this is interesting to me though!

See, Megatron doesn’t just point out that it’s dangerous because this isn’t the first time security has chased him down, he says it’s an unnecessary risk. Meg cares as much about the source of the planet’s energon being revitalized as anyone else, but he wholeheartedly believes that their leader is not just looking in the right area in the first place, but that he is fully capable of wrenching free the matrix from the forces that be on the surface! Mind you that these are forces he nor anybody else can verify. Only Sentinel and his personal cabinet (who have everything to gain from keeping their mouths shut) have ever actually BEEN up there!

For all the faults of Orion in this movie before the consequences of his actions force him to discover what it takes to become a dependable leader, Orion forces Meg out of his comfort zone in the ways he has to be to grow as a person! This is what leads to Megatron getting into the race, which is the first time we see Meg having to make split second decisions, and doing really well at it! The two nearly get first by a close margin!

The next time that Orion manages to talk Meg into a situation outside of his comfort zone is when he gets them to go all the way to the surface, and even explore there, instead of going home! Meg’s journey on the surface marks the first time he really starts making choices for himself, because although he has a friend he trusts enough to follow the decisions of with him, there’s no authority up here with him. Sure, his former manager is there, but she was demoted earlier and he followed Orion’s judgement over hers even then. Megatron is now making decisions as part of a group in a situation with nobody qualified to give orders. Even when a sudden mountain formation starts taking out the tracks, listening to Bee and running is a conscious decision made in the moment rather than one made because he does this every day this is what you do. He can make decisions in a split second for himself, he's done it with hiding Orion in his cart, but never without the safety net of someone to defer to. When the quintessons are scanning, Meg is at equal standing in the group with their discussion agreeing that those ARE quintesson ships and then helping decide their course of action about the danger. This all comes to a head in the cave, when Megatron, loyal Megatron finds out his life is a lie. His own words on his LIFE BEING A LIE! The minute he fully processes that this information is real and what it means, he goes into a pretty brutal explanation of how he wants to kill Sentinel! This doesn't just break his trust in authority, however, he starts questioning if he can trust ANYONE he's meant to trust! He takes the capsule of proof the original prime gave them partly because he doesn't trust others with it, and partly because he now has a need to be the one in control, including over how that crucial information gets used. If he can't trust the person whose integrity is the most important for their entire society, can he even trust his friends? By the time they reach the Old Guard, Meg has already decided that the answer to that question is no. Even while running over Sentinel with a TRAIN, Optimus is set on using the power of broadcasting and entrusting truth with the people to do the right thing with it! Megatron believes Starscream's philosophy even before he's told the words of it, the strongest bot gets all the power. His trials out here have been those of combat as well, that have fortified his mind, made him worthy! The problem isn't in the system, it's in this one specific person who needs an example made of him for all time! "The rebirth of Cybertron cannot begin with an execution!" Says Optimus. To Megatron, it was always the only way. The strongest bot deserves all the power.

[rems-writing]

Fuckboy Hongjoong headcanon

-> Pairing: fuckboy!Hongjoong x amab!reader

-> Trope: strangers to lovers

-> Wordcount: 2,200 words

-> Rating: nc-17

Nets: @mirohs-aurora-society @othersideoutlawsnetwork @illusionnet

I'm also tagging @acupoftaewithsomesuga because why tf not lol

-> Kim Hongjoong was not your average fuckboy. Due to the punk aesthetic he always has with his fits (i.e. plaid skirts attached to black ripped jeans, combat boots, band tees, black leather jacket, and eyeliner that makes his eyes more alluring than ever), most students assumed otherwise. His antics and high body count (do not ask 💀) molded his personality into that of the type of rockstar that does drugs and sleeps with lot of women and the occasional man. Yeah, this boy was bi. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who is always seen getting turnt at either a frat party or a spring break rager, chugging beer and slipping his tongue down any woman’s throat before taking them to bed for the night and forcing them to leave the next morning. It’s either that or he leaves. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who even has professors fall at his feet due to his charm and that infamous smirk that everyone loves

-> Well… everyone except you

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who felt like his word had stopped when he laid his eyes on you walking through the entrance of the college campus,

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who felt a strange feeling in his chest when you brushed past him with your earbuds in and a CD player tucked in your hands alongside many notebooks and a couple of textbooks.

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who felt strangely elated when he found out that he shared the same literature class as you despite always showing up late to that class, as well as other classes. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who fought to stay awake just to listen to your voice as you introduced yourself to the class and explained why you loved literature so much. He usually falls asleep in the times that he actually shows up to class. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who waltzed his way towards you when the professor decided to have everyone stand up and walk around so every student can get to know each other. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who was surprised when you held your hand up and bluntly told him that you knew what he was and that unless they were paired up for a project together, you want nothing to do with him due to his reputation around the college. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who usually brushes off that statement with ease if someone else said it. However, since it was you, he felt his chest tighten with pain. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who kept up his nonchalant act and shrugged with indifference as he walked away from you. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who sat back down in his seat when the icebreaker was over and the professor started lecturing. Although, he just stared at you from afar rather than paid attention to the actual lecture. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who watched you leave after you had packed everything and left the lecture hall. He was enamoured with the way you moved. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who saw you walking down the hall and called out to you to join him at his table in the campus cafe. His smirk was painted on his face as usual. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who was surprised when he saw you gape at him like he was stupid before walking away briskly. 

-> “God he’s a tough one to crack.” He muttered to himself. “Oh well!”

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who found himself at yet another party with a girl straddling him, kissing his neck and moaning at the occasional squeeze of her hips. It was his way of encouraging her to keep going. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who looked up but instead of the random girl’s face, he was looking at yours. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, whose eyes widened before shutting them tightly and opening them again so he could see the girl’s face again. 

-> “Sorry. Maybe I smoked too much.” He reassured her. Or was he trying to reassure himself? Sure, he did smoke before this, but he didn’t hit the blunt that hard to visualize someone else on top of him. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who fell back into his usual antics when he took the girl to an empty room and fucked the daylights out of her in order to distract himself. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who immediately clothed himself after he was done with her and made sure she was fast asleep before leaving the room, cursing to himself when his clunky boots hit the hardwood floor. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who exited the party that was still going on and found himself wandering outside, thinking about what exactly was happening to him. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who accidentally bumped into you, causing you to almost drop the CD player in your hands. For some reason, he’d blame himself if it ever broke. Luckily, it didn’t since your earbuds were plugged in so it just hung there instead.

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who saw you widen your eyes and clutch your CD player to your chest before turning away from him. He felt his own chest tighten again. Surely, he didn’t think he was that bad to even break things on purpose. Right?

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who helplessly watched you walk away after muttering a half-assed “Thanks” to him. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who shook his head and scolded himself for caring about your opinion on him when he really shouldn’t before walking home. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who actually found himself walking to literature class not only on time, but early at that. Professor Park was pleasantly surprised with this. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who felt excited when he found out that he was partnered with you for a project. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, whose excitement died down when he saw you wearily approach him and cautiously sit next to him. Your hood was over your head and you kept looking down. Why did that hurt his heart?

-> “Oh, come on. I’m not that evil! Right?” Hongjoong joked with you, only to receive a silent yet serious answer when you didn’t respond to his attempt at making the atmosphere a little lighter. 

-> “Hey. Say something.” Hongjoong urged gently but to no avail. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who decided to focus on the project by opening his textbook. 

-> “It’s fine. I’ll take care of everything. Just… do whatever you want.”

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, whose eyes widened when he heard you speak for the first time. He was happy momentarily before he realized the weight of your words. You’d basically do all the work and he’ll just present the project before getting the grade. He’d hated how you assumed that he doesn’t care about schoolwork. He also hated how you were right. Most of the time, he could give two fucks about assignments. However, since your arrival, he found himself wanting to be in your good graces. For the first time, he actually cared about someone’s opinion on him. 

-> “No. You listen to me. And you listen to me well, Y/N.” Hongjoong said sternly. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who regretted speaking like that when you flinched and looked up at him before nodding once, indicating that you were listening to him. 

-> “You’re right. I don’t normally care about assignments. However, since you have this vendetta against me, how about I prove to you that I actually care about this class?” Hongjoong explained softly yet firmly. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who stuck out his overly ringed hand to you so you could shake it and be a part of this truce that he was putting out. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who felt flustered for the first time in a long while when you took your hand in his and shook it. Your skin was soft. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who found himself longing for your touch after you let go. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who found himself in the library with you after class to get a head start on the project. You would do the writing while he would do the research. The both of you would occasionally switch roles so you wouldn’t tire yourselves out doing the same thing. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who would notice that you’re getting tired and told you that they can continue either later on tonight or maybe even tomorrow. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who bid you goodbye before going back to his dorm room to study some more rather than go to the next party available. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who found you at the campus cafe the next morning and gingerly approached you. 

-> “Hey. I know we have all of the next class to do more of the project, but I wanted to ask your opinion on something.” He asked shyly. Hongjoong was never shy. Ever! Yet around you, he couldn’t help but feel this way. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who hung onto every word as you explained the part that he was stuck on for the project, nodding along and jotting down side notes in the margins of his notebook. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who walked alongside you to literature class before sitting next to you. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who felt proud of himself for contributing to the project and was extremely happy that you were warming up to him.

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who was about to bid you goodbye when you offered to hang out with him outside of class. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who couldn’t help but tease you when you explained that you felt bad for being indifferent with him when they first met before sighing lightly and reassuring you that it’s fine. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who found himself falling deeper and deeper in love with you as you two continue to hang out with each other every day. Yeah, that was it. Hongjoong felt love. That would explain why he felt his heart blossom at the sight of you every time he’s near you. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who, all of a sudden, hates his reputation and is racking his brain on how to change himself for the better. He even asked Professor Park for some insight!

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who was walking down the hall one day to his next class when he saw a group of girls (aka his past flings) surround you. He knew right then and there that the karma that attached itself to his reputation would bite him in the ass. And it did. Hard. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who took it upon himself to march over towards them and shove them away from you. 

-> “You’re seriously protecting him? I mean we get that you’re bi, but what’s so special about him? You do realize that he’s nothing more than a phase, right?”

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who felt his blood boil dangerously upon hearing their words and clenched his fist before speaking through gritted teeth. 

-> “He sees me beyond my reputation. He knows me. Inside and out. He is someone whom I would give everything up for. Because guess what? I fell in love with him. And I will not stand by and let bitches like you fill his head with lies and tell him otherwise. The moment you approached him and started harassing is the same moment where I realized that this isn’t the life for me. I don’t want my reputation. I don’t want a different person on my arm every day. I don’t want him to be scared of me. I don’t want him to push himself away from me. I want his trust. His love. So I suggest you scram before I make things worse for you.” 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who felt satisfied when seeing the girls run away. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who looked down at your hunched form and bent down to your height to get a better look at you. 

-> “Was that too much? I’m sorry. I know we’re just friends, but what I said is true. I’m willing to change for you.”

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who grabbed your hand and placed it against his chest, his heart beating steadily underneath your palm. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who blushed upon feeling your lips on his cheek. You had kissed him! If he was in his room, he’d probably kick his feet and giggle loudly like a schoolgirl. 

-> “Thank you… for standing up for me. And for returning my feelings.”

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who held your hand, savoring the feeling of your fingers intertwined with his.

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who gradually felt himself change overtime as his first romantic relationship was slowly progressing. Gone was the punk aesthetic (minus the many piercings on his ear and the half skirt attached to the pants. You expressed that it was a cool fashion statement and that you wanted to try it out one day). Hoodies replaced leather jackets, regular sneakers replaced combat boots (he would only wear the boots if the mood called for it), and his eyeliner was gone. In addition, anytime someone would flirt with him, he’d deadpan at them before bluntly stating that he’s taken.

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who’d roll his eyes playfully as you tease him for the harsh rejection. Deep down, you loved the loyalty he was displaying. 

-> “Oh, come on, Joongie! She was actually pretty.”

-> “Yeah, but not as pretty as you, baby boy.”

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who smirked in satisfaction as you blushed shyly and hit his shoulder playfully before laughing and holding you close to him. 

-> fuckboy!Hongjoong, who watched you fix his hair underneath the beanie he was wearing with adoration. 

-> Kim Hongjoong, who no longer identifies himself as a fuckboy ever since he has met you and would do anything to keep you by his side. Always and forever. 

[femsolid]

Can I ask how does separatism show in your life? Do you have male relatives you have to interact with a lot? I assume you don't have male friends, have you ever had them in the past and at some point you decided "nah, this ain't it"? Are you in a job where you have to interact with men a lot? Do you reduce dealing with men when it comes to other things like avoiding places with men? Sorry I'm just curious about it from someone who lives a separatist life!

It's been very easy. I have no interest in men any more. I don't like their personalities and the misogyny of our daily interactions always jumps out to me (weaponized incompetence, interrupting women, disgusting jokes, main character syndrome, viciousness etc) and I just have no tolerance for it. I'm not a lesbian so I'd say there's 0.1% of men who aren't ugly but they immediately become repulsive to me when the casual sexism comes out, which it inevitably does. I don't understand the "radical" feminists who, after seeing men for what they are, don't feel such repulsion and even claim that we need men to be fulfilled. So I don't date men, don't flirt with men, don't take an interest in their lives, don't play the psychologist for them, don't put extra work for them, don't offer my help etc. I just don't care about men. There's no male relative I still see except for my nephew who is a child. I've cut ties with my father years ago specifically for his misogyny and homophobia. I stand by my moral principals no matter what. I don't have male friends and I never have because I never trusted males nor related to them. And I could never be myself around them. I have male co-workers though, I talk about work with them when I need it. I only have real conversations with my female coworkers. And I only joke with women. As a result, I've noticed, only women sit around me and talk to me at work. The guys have given up. However, my manager is a man which is quite annoying. I keep it minimal with him just like with every other males I'm forced to interact with. I keep it professional and cordial, not friendly and sweet.

I make zero effort to please men physically. No make-up, no tight clothes, no long hair, no shaving, no shutting up, no dainty mannerisms. I'm eating what I want, when I want to, and show no remorse unlike a lot of my female peers. And when I'm angry, I don't hide it. And if I need to say something, I say it. A lot of people assume I'm a lesbian based on the fact that I make no effort to attract men. And it's true that I make no such effort. But I also think that if, to attract men, you have to pretend to be a helpless little thing, you can't call straight or bisexual women "lesbians" just for refusing this humiliation. It's called dignity, not lesbianism.

I like women, I try to help them, prioritize them, support them, reassure them, defend them and push them forward. When a woman speaks negatively about herself, I always jump in to correct her. And when a man attacks a woman I intervene. I distribute compliments and encouragements to women. And I point out the misogyny they confront when they don't see it for what it is. I only debate women because I only value women's mind.

If I have to see a doctor, I'll look for a woman every time. Only and only if I can't find a female doctor close to me will I pick a male doctor. My general practitioner is a woman, my podiatrist is a woman, my psychologist is a woman, my radiologist is a woman, my gastroenterologist is a woman etc. Same with a hear dresser, a masseuse, a fitness coach: only women. I only read books from female authors. I try to watch movies with a woman or girl as the main character. Same with video games or music. Though obviously I'm only human and might enjoy a movie or song made by a male sometimes. I try to support female artists and creators by promoting them, buying from them, giving them nice reviews. I avoid places that are filled with men like a gym or café or profession or online space, and I gravitate towards places filled with women.

That's it, that's my daily life. It's taking care of myself and valuing women. It's easy because I enjoy it and it feels natural. I'm following what my guts have always told me. Feminism simply helped me verbalize it.

[chippedshake]

I want to feel your heart beat

Johnny is eleven the first time Ponyboy sees him after his father gets drunk. Mrs Curtis tries to shoo him away but it doesn’t work, and Johnny tells her that it's fine. Ponyboy looks at him with sad eyes and traces his bruises and they fall asleep side by side, Ponyboy face up and Johnny curled up on himself. Johnny's hand rests on Ponyboy's chest and he falls asleep to the soothing rhythm of his heartbeat.

With my hand on your chest

It becomes a twisted sort of tradition. Johnny needs something constant to ground him when he gets to the Curtis household and listening Ponyboy's heartbeat with his hand or ear pressed onto his chest is calming in a way nothing else is.

When I look into those eyes

One day, Ponyboy gets paired with a Soc girl at school and her boyfriend (with his friends) corners him afterwards to tell him exactly what'll happen if he tries anything. He gets home with wide eyes and practically shaking. Johnny takes one look at him and grabs his hand.

"Just breathe, Pony. Can you do that for me?" Johnny meets his eyes and presses his fingers on Johnny's pulse point and reminds him how to breathe.

I will know what is next

They're sitting on the cold ground with a cold body next to them, both of them on the verge of a panic attack. They've killed someone – killed someone – they're going to get the chair, lifetime in jail if they're let off easily, what are they even supposed to do?

Neither one of their heartbeats is strong, steady for the other one to calm down to. Neither one of them can be strong for the other

I am lost in something

Ponyboy doesn't need to press his hand on Johnny's chest to hear his heartbeat. The machine beside them is doing a fine job of that, of reminding him that Johnny's still alive.

For now.

That has no way out

Dally's hitting the hospital wall and Ponyboy just might cry and he has to stay gold, whatever that means, and – oh god, he has to tell the gang, doesn't he? He doesn't know where to start and there's no heartbeat to ground him, to show him a rhythm that isn't the blood rushing through his ears and his erratic breaths.

Darry pulls him into a hug when he gets home and he presses his ear against his chest but his heartbeat isn't Johnny's, and he can't pretend it is even if he screws his eyes shut and imagines Johnny beside him.

It hurts but this is the last song that I write

"We are gathered here in memory of Johnny Cade."

[writercole]

Do It Again

Summary: Watching horror movies with Boone brings you closer...in more ways than one. Words: 1200ish Warnings: Fluff. Also discussion of horror movies but nothing explicit. Credits: @ryebecca on the title help :) A/N: Fall into Fall day 2 and my first Boone fic! He's definitely the weirdest, most awkward dude ever and I love him so much.

Knocking on the door, I felt a little self-conscious. I was either the first to arrive or the last, and neither was a preferred option. The crush I had on Boone rendered me incapable of being in a confined space as him without being incredibly awkward. 

The grin he had when he opened the door dropped, his shoulders drooping when he looked around me and found that it was only me standing there. A shy smile lifted his lips as he returned his gaze to me.

“Tyler said he and Kate aren’t really scary movie people,” I explained. “I think that means they want to be left alone to do ‘couple things’ instead of coming.”

“Sounds right,” he sighed, “Dani and Lily are taking Javi out. And Dexter is working a cross stitch that he’s almost done with.”

“So it’s just you and I tonight?”

He nodded in confirmation and wiped his free hand on his jeans, swallowing hard as he looked at me. I felt just as nervous as he looked. I doubt I looked as adorable, though.

“Or, we could cancel and each do our own thing? If you’re not comfortable with it.”

“No!” he blurted out. “Let’s watch some scary movies!” He stepped to the side and gestured for me to come into the room.

“If you’re sure. I wouldn’t want to -”

“You won’t.”

“You don’t even know what I was going to say.” I stepped into the room with a smile and marveled at how tidy it was.

“I’ve never been more sure. Of a movie date. I mean, a partner. I mean someone to watch movies with,” he fumbled. I managed to catch a hint of redness on his cheeks before he turned to shut the door.

Butterflies swooped in my stomach before my brain chastised them for getting excited. It’s not like he’s awkward because he likes me. He’s just awkward in general. And that’s one of my favorite traits about him.

Seating proved to be an overthinking hellscape. I could sit in the corner, making sure that I wouldn’t get scared and clutch Boone. Or I could sit on the edge of the bed, even though my back would be aching by the end of the movie. I could sit on the floor but…yuck.

The debate in my head raged on for what seemed like hours before I decided to head over to the foot of the bed and take off my shoes. After that, I’d follow Boone’s lead. See where he sat and what he said. 

He followed pretty quickly after, flopping onto the bed into the spot next to the remote. “Your back is going to ache if you sit there for the whole movie,” he said.

I swore internally. Of course he’d remember me saying that my back started to hurt if I sat without support for too long. “I’m just taking off my shoes. Outside germs and all.”

“Oh. Yeah, yeah of course.” 

I really hoped this was a good idea. As much as he said he wanted me here, he seemed more awkward than usual. I scooted up to the headboard and leaned against it. The space between us felt like centimeters. I could feel warmth radiating off of him but also, there was something comforting as well as stiff about his posture. 

“So, what are we watching first?” I asked.

“Slasher or monster?”

“Um…Slasher, I guess?”

“Okay, Freddy, Jason, or Michael?”

“Who?”

“Please tell me you’re kidding. Those are the three most iconic slashers of all time.”

“Which one is the one in Scream?”

“That’s Ghostface.”

“Can we watch that one?”

“Original franchise or reboot?”

“There’s a reboot?”

“Oh you need a horror education,” he sighed as he scooted closer to me, turning to face me slightly.

I tried to ignore the way my heart thundered against my rib cage.

“Original Scream franchise starred Neve Campbell  as the heroine. The reboot has Jenna Ortega. Pretty decent, in all honesty, compared to like, Nightmare on Elm Street reboot. And don’t get me started on how they tried to bring Michael Meyers back. H2O really sealed up the franchise and he just keeps coming back and I don’t understand it.”

He continued on about movies I’d heard of in passing and characters I had no clue about. I have no idea how long he talked but I got lost in the sound of his voice and the way his hands moved as he explained things. He stopped talking and I cocked my head, looking up to find him shying away.

“Sorry, I got a little overexcited there,” he apologized.

“I kind of enjoyed it.”

“Really?” His eyes lit up as he looked back at me.

“Yeah. It’s obviously something you really like and I love listening to my friends talk about their passions.”

“Oh, right, yeah,” he said, shaking his head. “I mean, I’d listen to my friends talk about anything, too.” 

“So, Scream reboot?”

“Sure, if that’s what you want.”

He pressed play on the movie and shut off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness until the movie started up.

Boone’s posture had fallen after I said I’d listen to my friends. I wasn’t sure what that was about, because he was my friend. I’d love it if we could be more but I wouldn’t want to break up the team that Tyler created. And I couldn’t help but be afraid that I’d end up crushing Boone at some point and he’d leave. They always left.

The villain popped out of a closet and I jumped, clutching onto Boone’s arm, just like I feared. Both of our eyes dropped to the spot where my fingers wrapped around his bicep before meeting again. I wasn’t sure what was in his eyes so I loosened my grip and started to pull my hand away.

Surprisingly, his free hand reached over and grasped it before the arm I was clutching draped around my shoulders. He pulled me close and I breathed a sigh of relief at the way he took it all in stride. I shifted against him and heard his heart speed up in his chest.

“You okay?” I questioned. “I mean, you don’t have to -”

“I’m fine,” he whispered as he tightened his arm around me, “great, actually.”

“Are you sure?”

He tucked his finger under my chin and lifted my gaze to his. His eyes searched my face for a moment before he leaned in, his lips touching my hesitantly. 

Shock and delight filled my chest before he pulled back to look me in the eye once more. 

“You kissed me,” I muttered.

“I did.”

“Do it again?”

He smiled and his brow relaxed. "You want me to kiss you again?"

“Please.”

"Okay." Boone slid his hand up my cheek and pulled me towards him, kissing me deeper than before.

Maybe movie night wasn't so bad, after all.

[satorisoup]

people will think im ordinary until they say one (1) thing about tmnt and all of a sudden im explaining the entire lore starting from the 1990’s movie & why donatello is the best turtle i fear… T^T

tag limit fights me… i must yap… please listen… SOB </3

[the-meme-monarch]

biggest complaint about you is your not a big enough hater about kralsei. Get rageful with it. Make a whole rant about how gross it is in canon. Let the rage take over

oh it takes everything i have to not say swears about it like every day trust me. i am kra/lsei number 1 biggest hater