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#nostalgia hits you hard man
vioyume · 2 years
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Wtf and why?
Why is the beloved children's show from my childhood is trending out of nowhere?!
Good for you Steve for making the whole world cry.
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mushroomsleepy · 7 months
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going back and watching adventure time after so many years is a truly life changing experience.
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Same same same I was literally thinking of what RGG characters' zOMG! loadouts might look like earlier today help😭But I too was playing zOMG! on a horrid PC with a horrid connection... had to zoom out so far to get some slightly better performance from Flash that chat was nearly unusable...
I'm not totally sure I ever got to play the endgame areas like SS and DMS (definitely didn't get to finish DMS, it was just me and the besties + it's a reeeally long run), but those were some wonderful memories! My blorbo apparently lives in Deadman's Pass and it was a lot of fun crawling every inch of the map and coming up with headcanons and stuff. Sawmill was unusually un-performant though for sure, for how small the area is.
My friend group and I dropped it on account of the NFT investments and general downward trend, but sometimes... sometimes it calls to me...
my whole in-and-out bit with gaia is that sometimes i'd just feel too awkward to try and actually talk to anyone in the towns, so i'd just leave the site alone for a while until i felt brave enough to open it back up or i just really wanted to play zOMG (legit it had no business being as fun as it was)
i checked the creation date of my account and my sis actually made it when i was 8 ☠️☠️ but on that note i remember she wanted me to make an account so we could play zOMG together specifically but honestly i can only remember us playing a handful of times before we just played on our own
#snap chats#MEANT TO REPLY SOONER BUT I WAS FUCKIN AROUND WITH MY AVI LMAO#i had so much stuff i didnt even realize i had... also the capsule rewards are a lot Better ???#i remember you used to get like. bland clothes or like a spool of thread but now you get actual neat shit#but oh my god no i remember in deadmans pass (the base game was DMP the new one was DMS OOPSIE)#i would just hang out in that little cemetary bit and be emo as shit 😭😭☠️☠️#AND I REMEMBER I WAS SUPER OBSESSED WITH THE 'I Am' ITEMS#SO I WAS JUST SITTING THERE AS THIS LITTLE CAT WITH THE SCARF LIKE BRO WHY WERE YOU SO MOODY YOU WERE 8#god bring zOMG back let me be moody there now that i have actual things to be moody about#the shallow sea was such a good map but it was also long as fuck- it was undoubtedly the longest one#i dont think i ever even actually beat it ? like THATS how long and hard it was#i mightve come close with a group once but man that was so long ago idk#ok but help rgg charas + gaia like#like PLEASE i joke bout daigo making haruka a gaia account solely because of MY childhood 😭😭☠️☠️☠️#UGH...nostalgia you asshole... im lying gaia was fun back then and if flash was still around it'd still be fun to me now#like thats the real kick in the dick if 90% of the playerbase was gone but the worlds were still there#then i could at least hit up friends and we could just muck about there but naw... its ALL gone.....#i remember walking around the towns at least one more time back innnn 2020?? right before flash shut down??#it was all barren as hell but it was a fun lil trip while it lasted#GOD. yeah i love gaia... biggest surprise to find you also played it but i wont complain ty for chattin bout it with me..#i always feel insane when i remember gaia cause it feels like no one ever knows what im talking about LMAO
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looking at my suuuuper old ao3 bookmarks like babygirl you had sooo many things wrong with you <3
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faerieorbitars · 2 years
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sorry guys listened to the responsibility theme from the sam raimi spider-man trilogy i’ll be crying for the next few days
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mirkoscarrot · 1 year
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i watched all 8 episodes of the new bleach out so far and MY BRAIN ASCENDED
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ozzgin · 4 months
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Yandere! Yokai Harem x Reader (I)
This is probably my longest running dysfunctional daydream scenario, so I thought I'd share it here.
As stereotypical as it gets, you've fallen into an old well and found yourself in feudal Japan. Almost immediately, you're attacked by a yokai that calls you by a name you don't recognize. He insists you possess the soul of an ancient priest that would capture demons under a binding contract. Something isn't right, however, so your life is spared until further clues come to light. With two men unwillingly bound to you, you begin to uncover this mess as more 'collection pieces' show up. They might prefer you to their previous owner.
TW: violence, monsters
[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Character Guidebook]
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You vigorously cough out whatever grass you seemed to have bit into when you hit the ground. Was all this vegetation here just one moment ago? As you get up and dust your knees you're brought back into focus by the loud buzzing of insects. You look above and involuntarily squint your eyes. You didn't expect to see a full, bright sky.
"What the hell?" is all you can mutter.
You and your university friends had planned a quick trip to the neighboring Tokyo, just to visit some trending local cafes and shop around. You somehow wandered into the suburbs and found a very obvious path to a large shrine that was visible from the bottom of the stairs. Now, what's more stereotypical than finding a shrine, approaching it with shy steps, dangling the old rope of the bell and humbly clapping your hands together for a quick prayer that gives you a fake sense of meaningfulness? Then again, you love a good cliché. So you did just that, and then whipped out your phone to snap some artsy photos of the place. In your search for the perfect angle, you spotted a wooden structure among some pillars and zoomed in to realize it's an old well.
Here's where you awkwardly tiptoed away from your friends. You couldn't possibly confess to them that you're one of those anime nerds, and that you immediately thought of a certain classic title, and that this could make a very good impromptu cosplay shoot. You could smell the nostalgia as you carefully swayed your way behind the pillars and under the shade of the tiled roof. You bent over carefully (apparently not carefully enough) to asses how deep the well was. Just as you were about to exclaim its shallowness, you felt the gravity pull you inwards. Within seconds your head made contact with the moist soil and you briefly blacked out as the rest of your body arrived in proper position.
Unpleasant, but you've had migraines worse than this. Though now you're wondering whether you might've damaged some important brain parts, given the sudden change of scenery. Or has your dysfunctional daydreaming finally caught up to you?
You laugh silently and test the walls around you, feeling for some contact point that you can use to pull yourself back out. You finally crawl out, but freeze with your elbows around the frame of the well, looking ahead.
There's no building around, just tall grass and what seems to be the beginning of a forest. You remember to blink, and each time you close your eyes you hope to see the shrine once again, to no avail.
"I thought I'm past the risk age for schizophrenia", you mumble in a humorous attempt. The situation is so absurd that you need to share it with an imaginary audience.
You muster up the courage to step out and onto the ground, with extra caution as if it could vanish at any moment. After brief consideration, you slap a bunch of weeds in front of you to test their consistency. The hard stems hurt your wrist and you nod. This is a little too intense to be just a hallucination.
Alright, so you got trapped in some sort of feudal anime remake. What now? You glance around, almost hoping to see some white haired man sleeping against a tree with an arrow stuck into the chest. You check your phone. No signal, but thankfully it still works. You have a battery and its charger, but the latter is probably useless. Unless this remake comes with electricity. You chuckle at the thought. Who knows, maybe it's one of those isekai otome games instead and some timeline inconsistency or loophole will provide you with an outlet.
After trying the well one last time without success, you decide to at least find another human being. Then you can get some grasp of your whereabouts and situation. You notice a patch of grass that's been bent to the ground, probably from frequent stomping. That's a start. You follow the hints of bipedal movement and hope for the best.
The improvised path slithers downhill and around the mass of trees, and you question whether the fields ahead might have traces of houses on them. You pick up your pace in anticipation.
A sharp swish of an unknown object causes you to flinch and halt, and before you can process it, a thin blade lays inches from your nose. You follow its length and find the source: a tall, horned (???) man with silver hair.
Ironically enough, he seems to be more shocked than you. His facial expression flips from focused anger to unbelievable confusion within seconds. His eyebrows are raised and his lips part.
"Ah!" you yell as the gears begin to turn. "Christ, you almost made me question my sanity!
Now let me tell you, this is some great cosplay. I was about to beg for my life. Hah! How the hell did you pull the whole transition? Is the well a tunnel? I hope I didn't accidentally break into some event."
The man returns his sword into its sheath, still in deep disbelief.
"You're not him, are you? But then again..."
"Huh? Him? I'm sorry, were you expecting someone? If you show me the way out I'll disappear in a moment." you turn around, prepared to be led to the exit. "Who're you cosplaying, anyways? I'm a big fan of historical dramas, but I don't recognize the character design."
"I don't understand what you're saying." the man tilts his head in utter surprise.
"Alright, I get the point" you force a laugh, slightly irritated by the persistence. "You're deep in your acting, I get that. Focus and all the jazz. But my friends are around the corner and I don't have signal, can you please skip the theatre and show me the exit?"
"The exit to...where? You're outside."
You sigh, loudly, and click your tongue. "Enough of this, please. Where's the shrine?"
"Ah, I get it. You're trying to confuse me." he pulls his sword back out. "I've had enough of your tricks. You're in an early stage, aren't you? Not strong enough to fight back. I can sense it."
Oh God, it's one of those maniacs, you think to yourself. You raise your arms as a peace offering and hope you won't be featured in the 5pm news with multiple stab wounds.
"Listen man, I really don't know what you're talking about. I'll leave quietly and won't bother you again, I promise."
You gulp and await a response, but the man's mouth opens and the words are replaced by a foreign, disembodied shriek. There's a rapidly approaching heavy shuffle that sounds like the trample of many limbs. You feel your leg being hooked into something and the ground turns around at a dizzying speed.
Something just grabbed you.
Given the movements of the lips, you're assuming that the mysterious cosplaying maniac is yelling something, but your ears are ringing and throbbing as the adrenalin begins to pump. You're being thrown around by something and you can feel the skin holding your leg together creaking and tearing with every jolt.
You manage to land your eyes on the creature. The teeth are unnaturally sharp and it seems to have many arms and legs arranged in a scattered order along the scaly body. It trashes around in such a fluid, dynamic way, that you doubt it could be the result of any machine. It's a living thing and currently attacking you for whatever reason.
Once the bizarre reality settles in, panic floods your body and you scream for help. If not the maniac, then some godly intervention. You did offer a small donation at the shrine, it has to count for something.
The spectacle doesn't last long, since the silver haired man doesn't hesitate to behead the creature. You can see that he wasn't making empty threats with his sword skills. You'd prefer, however, if you weren't the next one to go under his guillotine. Your body rolls over the dirt, limp from the shock.
You tilt yourself upwards pathetically and let out a groan once you attempt to use your leg to stand. You turn around and notice the aftermath of your little air ballet. There's a deep wound and thick, red blood is oozing out, scrambling to form a protective crust.
"You... really can't fight at all, can you? You weren't lying."
The man is now standing in front of you, the same amount of disbelief he had at the beginning.
"How the hell would I have fought that...that..." you choke and can feel tears forming in your eyes. "I don't understand what's happening. I just want to go back home. I don't know what's happening." you start sobbing and angrily rub your eyes, hoping to trigger some sort of way to wake up. But your eyelids burn and you feel awake. This was never a dream.
Your sudden meltdown startles the man and he awkwardly hovers his hands over you, unsure of how to handle this.
"Sorry, if I had known, I would've stopped it earlier. I genuinely thought you're..." he sighs. "I'm really sorry. You got hurt because of me."
"Can you please tell me where I am? I feel like I'm going crazy. It's year 202X and I was out with my friends and fell into a well. I've never seen a creature like that in my life. I somehow ended up here and I can't go back. Where the hell is this?"
"I... I don't understand what's happening either. I came here because I sensed he's back. I didn't expect to see... well... you." 
You scan his face. His frown is sincere. Which, truth be told, is even less helpful. You're back to square 0, it's getting dark and your ankle is trashed. 
You just want to sleep.
You stare at the ceiling, hands locked together over your chest. The improvised hay mattress isn't exactly comfortable, but it's certainly better than nothing. You sheepishly glance at the horned man. He's sitting by the window, idly looking outside with hooded eyes. He seems to be tired, too. 
"Try to get some rest", he'd told you earlier. Easier said than done. After the monster attack, he carried you on his back until you found an abandoned hut. His way of apologizing for letting you get mauled. As you walked, he narrated his reasoning to you. 
His name is Kiritsubo. When he was a child, a human dressed like an onmyouji took him in for training. Said to be the successor of Abe no Seimei himself, the man was feared throughout the country for his supernatural powers. Most of his strength, however, came from the collection of yokai he'd gathered to work for him. None of them had agreed to it, but no one knew how to break the bond subduing them. Eventually, the old man succumbed into his eternal slumber, yet the yokai were still not freed from the contract.
Some of them suggested he wasn't truly gone. Merely reincarnated. And today, he felt it for the first time. That's how he stumbled upon you. You appear to have part of his soul within you, whether you realize it or not. But if you truly have no knowledge of it, he doesn't have the heart to slaughter an innocent. 
"What about the rest?" you blurt out, quietly.
Kiritsubo turns to you, mildly startled.
"What do you mean?"
"You said the man owned 12 legendary yokai. Are you the only one left?"
"No." He frowns. "They most likely know about you already. Let's try to send you back to your world tomorrow, because they will not be as forgiving."
A shiver runs across your spine. This one is scary enough already. You pray you'll be home before you can meet any other beast.
"This is where I found you, so the well shouldn't be far." 
The silver haired man surveys the horizon and you limp forward. 
"I'll check the area, since you can't walk much."
As soon as he says that, he vanishes. You're left with the heavy buzz of afternoon cicadas. You might as well do your own search. Keep yourself preoccupied. The idea of leaving this behind fills you with excitement and you find enough strength to push ahead. 
A few minutes later, you hear a shuffle behind you. Could it be that Kiritsubo already found the well? Enthusiasm fills your chest and a burning heat spreads out. Although it speedily pools in your left shoulder, and you notice in horror that it wasn't enthusiasm taking over your body. A blade is sticking out of your shoulder, avoiding anything vital as some sort of mockery rather than omission. 
"Found you."
The voice is deep and foreign. You barely manage to tilt your head and meet the glowing red eyes of a black haired man. Dark horns are twisting menacingly from his crown and his expression is that of pure wrath. As fresh blood drips down your chin, you wonder if this is the next yokai in line to seek his revenge.
How will you get out of this?
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reiding-writing · 1 month
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hello!!!! could i get a continuation fic for "breaking the ice"? this time it could be like after a hard case and reader actively seeks out spencer for comfort (CONGRATS ON 1K FOLLOWERS!!! <33)
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BREAKING DOWN [CLIMACTERIC]
/ˈbreɪ.kɪŋ daʊn/
spencer just wants to be there for you when you need him, but you get overwhelmed by his constant worrying and push him away, only to crawl right back into his embrace when you really need it.
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WARNINGS: fem!reader, reader is mean to spencer in the beginning but apologises later, child death, guilt, reader having an emotional breakdown, angst to hurt/comfort
spencer x cold!reader | hurt/comfort | 2.4k | climacteric event
a/n: hit two birds with one stone for this one, god sometimes i forget how much i like writing characters suffering man-
this fic is a continuation of ‘breaking the ice’, but can be read as a stand alone!
main masterlist!! ⋆。°✩ cold!reader masterlist!!
climacteric event masterlist!!
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You felt like an idiot the first time Spencer caught you crying, failing to compose yourself in the office bathroom for no good reason and looking like an absolute wreck because your brain had just decided it wanted to ruin your day.
There’d been a few times since then when he’d caught you on the brink of a breakdown, but you’d masked them better the more he tried to look into your psyche.
“It’s okay not to be okay sometimes,” He said those few months ago. “I’m here for you, whatever you need.”
That was all said and good but it didn’t mean that you wanted him to be there whenever you were overwhelmed or emotional. Sometimes you needed the space to work through your emotions on your own.
“Reid. Leave me alone.” You turn to him sharply, impatience written all over your features.
He’d been asking you about your emotions for the past fifteen minutes after noticing you turn down one of the sugary treats Garcia had brought into the office and using the small amount of favouritism you had towards him as leeway in terms of you not getting angry.
But you had your breaking point even with him.
The harshness spilling from your lips wasn’t something that was ever directed at him, so much so that it actually took him a second to register that it was him you were snapping at and not some invisible person standing behind him.
He didn’t even have time to respond to you. You were already around the corner by the time he’d come back to his senses.
He didn’t bother you after that.
At all.
There was no small talk at the beginning of the office days, no conversations on the jet between cases. He stopped waiting for you before leaving the office and picking you up coffee on days he knew you’d be late.
It threw you back in time to the first few years of working with him. And it seemed that the rest of the team was feeling the inherent ‘nostalgia’ as well, and not in a good way.
The small lingering glances and silent conversations you’d engage in had completely disappeared, and not having Spencer has the bridge of proper communication between you and the rest of the team made merging your psychological profile with the main behavioural profile for your most recent case three steps longer than it needed to be.
Because he was basically refusing to speak to you. Following your instructions to a T.
It didn’t help that it was a child case either. You always seemed to have issues with those. You worked twice as fast, but also made twice as many mistakes, and without someone like Spencer to filter your thoughts through to make sure that they were all objective it meant that your profile was lagging behind.
The child you were looking for died before you found him.
And by the time you’d reached the jet to fly back to Virginia, you’d already internalised his death as your fault.
You kept yourself together through the airport, through boarding and take-off and until you watched your team members fall into a blanket of uneasy sleep as everyone tried to brush off the emotional wreckage that they’d seen over the last few days and detach themselves from the child they’d failed to save.
You were usually pretty good at that part.
Separating yourself from your work came naturally for you, and it was something you were extremely grateful for when getting rest after a particularly hard case. But children were different.
They always were. Especially when it felt like you had a personal hand in their death.
With an internal sigh you accepted your fate of staring at the beige walls of the jet’s cabin until you inevitably couldn’t take it anymore and barricaded yourself in the bathroom for the remainder of the flight.
Now’s about the time where you’d probably distract yourself by starting Spencer on a tangent. Getting him to talk about something that was completely unrelated to the case you’d just sat through to drown out the voices inside of your head and allow you to rest peacefully despite yourself.
But you couldn’t do that right now.
Half because Spencer was already asleep and half because you’d pushed him away.
And now you had to lie in the hole you’d created for yourself.
You didn’t even end up making it into the bathroom.
You curled your legs up into yourself in the corner chair you’d bagged yourself, rested your elbows on your knees, and covered your face with your palms as the tears started a steady flow down your cheeks.
It was honestly one of the worst feelings in the world. Curled up into yourself with your hands cupped over your mouth to keep your staggered breathing quiet enough to not wake the other agents sleeping around the cabin.
As you sat there, the weight of your emotions pressing down on you like a heavy blanket, you couldn't shake the feeling of regret for pushing Spencer away.
His concern was always genuine, his presence a source of comfort even when you didn't realise you needed it. Now, in the silence of the jet cabin, his absence felt like a void.
Each tear that slipped from your eyes felt like another weight added to the burden you were already carrying.
The familiar ache in your chest threatened to consume you as you struggled to contain the flood of emotions threatening to spill over and wake your teammates.
Despite the exhaustion pulling at your bones, sleep remained unobtainable, lost in the emotional maze of regret and self-blame that you’d managed to lose yourself in to the point where you couldn’t even stand up to give yourself some privacy.
You felt utterly alone, isolated by your own actions in every sense of the word. Each passing minute stretched on for what felt like hours, dragging you deeper into the abyss of your thoughts.
You weren’t quiet enough apparently, and you hear a small shift from the long sofa to your right as your emotional breakdown seemingly catches someone’s ears to the point where they’ve woken up.
“…are-” Spencer’s voice is quiet and mildly groggy as he wakes from the sounds of your internal anguish, and he cuts himself off before getting his whole question out.
You wanted him to leave you alone.
“sorry…” He shifts onto his side until his back is facing you, not wanting to pry if you were uncomfortable with it but also not willing to watch you break down if he knew he couldn’t do anything about it.
“I’m not okay Reid…” Your words are caught in between stunted breaths and shaking movements. “I need help-”
Your words sent an ache right through his heart that made him think it was going to split in two. He can hear the tremor in your voice, the shakiness in your tone as you force yourself to be vulnerable with him. And it makes him want to join you in a fit of tears.
If you were actively reaching out like this, it had to be bad.
“I know…” His voice is barely above a whisper as he slowly turns his body, still hesitant to look you in the eyes but wanting to see your expression.
He doesn’t know if you want comfort or advice, but he knows which he’d prefer to give as his eyes land on your face and take in the sight of you, curled up into yourself with tear stains tracking down your cheeks in the cabin’s low lighting.
“But I don’t know how to…” The silence is the worst part of the conversation from his end of things – a silence that was deafeningly loud. His eyes dart between the cabin door and you.
But he doesn’t move. He doesn’t get up, or get closer. He just stays put.
He doesn’t know what to do.
“Tell me how to help you…”
“I don’t-” You barely get the chance to start speaking before your crying renders you effectively mute, your throat filled with sobs that leave your mouth into the palm of your hand as you attempt to silence yourself and not ruin anyone else’s slumber.
He can see your fingers trembling as you hold back the noise. From across the aisle, Spencer watches the way you shake until his stomach ties in a knot just from seeing you distressed.
But there’s nothing he can do.
“Can I try something?” He murmurs his words softly, like he’s afraid of frightening you further as he pulls himself upright on the couch seat to plant his feet firmly on the floor.
You answer him with a nod, too unstable to even think about trying to answer him verbally under the threat of breaking down further.
He pads across the aisle deftly, taking a seat in the chair beside your own and deftly bringing his arm across the back of your shoulders to rub lines against your back.
It’s a somewhat pathetic pat, a mix of fatigue and hesitation mixing in his movements and making his attempt at comforting you feel clumsy and mildly awkward.
But he was trying, and that was the main point.
The awkwardness really held no ground under your inherent need to just feel comforted in the moment, and you take no note of it as you turn your head into Spencer’s shoulder with your hand still cupped over your mouth as you tremble under his arms.
His hand becomes a little more confident once you accept his attempts.
He didn’t know how to help you.
He didn’t know how to soothe you.
And the thought of not being able to save you from yourself was tearing him up inside.
But the least he could do was this.
Spencer’s touch is gentle as he places his other hand onto the back of your head, fingers brushing along your hairline as he encourages you further into his embrace.
There’s nothing he should say right now, nothing he could say right now.
Whatever would come from him would be a string of false assurances he wasn’t sure he would even believe himself.
Instead, he settles for the soft touches, his gentle fingers and trying to soften your breathless sobs into something less heartwrenching.
It felt mildly awkward to be the source of someone else’s comfort — he’d usually been on the receiving end of it — but it was working, and he could slowly feel your shoulders relax under his hands, your sobs reducing to small sniffles as you calmed under Spencer’s influence.
“Breathe…” He whispered the words quietly against the top of your head, making a show of taking deep breaths that you could feel against his chest as a silent instruction for you to mirror.
The rise and fall of his chest underneath your hand was crucial in helping you slowly regulate your breathing to match his, the remnants of sniffles that caught in your throat slowly dissipating until they were non-existent.
The peak of your distress slowly eludes you as you sink down to a gradual calm, and the harsh beating of your heart against your sternum was slowly regulating itself as well until it was soft enough that it didn’t ring in your ears.
Spencer remains quiet as he continues to rub gentle lines over your spine. If he kept you him his grasp like this for long enough, your fatigue might catch up to you and make you fall asleep. And that would be alright with him.
“I shouldn’t have snapped at you for trying to help me,” You air out your half-apology once you’re confident enough that speaking won’t send you down another spiral, your words muffled slightly against his shirt.
It’s a sudden break to the small pocket of silence you’d created, and Spencer’s hand pauses for a fleeting second before continuing to trace its path over your back. “You were stressed and I pushed a limit, it was understandable…”
He wouldn’t lie to you and say that everything was alright and he didn’t take it personally. It did hurt for you to be so harsh to him, but hearing you try to apologise made it feel a little better at least.
“I just wanted to help…”
“I know…” You turn your head further into his shoulder until your face is hidden in the curve of his neck. “I’m sorry,”
Your apology, voiced properly this time, elicited a small sigh from his lips, and he adjusted his arm around you to accommodate the new position you were in.
The feeling of somebody leaning on him, relying on him so much for comfort was a rather novel experience. He liked his distance, his personal space, and his preference for not being touched always trumped anything else. But this was different.
“Don’t apologise…” Spencer shakes his head against yours as he murmurs out his words. “Just rest…”
You give him a small hum as your only indication of acknowledging his suggestion, letting out a small yawn into his neck as the consequences of your emotional breakdown catch up to you and riddle your body with fatigue.
You were practically melting into him by now, your weight resting against his side, but Spencer wasn’t complaining.
It made you seem so vulnerable, so small and relaxed and different from how you usually presented yourself to the world.
Once your yawn reached his ears he knew your body was preparing to slip into unconsciousness.
But he couldn’t bring himself to move away from you.
He’d seen you fall asleep before; he’d seen the way your mouth had parted slightly right before a small snore left your lips, the delicate rise and fall of your chest as your breathing evened out and the way your eyebrows furrowed when you fell into a dream.
He didn’t want to interrupt his comfort by moving away. So he didn’t. It wouldn’t hurt to hold you for a little bit longer.
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i will always flex the way that i didnt know ultra necrozma was coming yet defeated it because i had an umbreon with toxic <3
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ironicsmiles · 2 years
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Watching old vods really hits hard because you feel the wave of nostalgia coming every animal crossing song tommy plays in the background
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ashsolar · 2 months
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favourite thingᯓ★ln4
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chapter two, chapter three, chapter four, chapter five
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Coming back to a place you once thought of as your home is never easy, what's even difficult is saying goodbyes to the things you once cherished. It's been years since your grandfather died and you know it's time to sell the one thing you had been dreading to sell in order to set yourself free.
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chapter one
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Goodbye's were never easy, you learnt that the hard way. The wind knocked you off your feet. Monaco was still the same, the richness in the air, the sweet enveloping smell of the coast. You hadn't been here in years. Your grandfather's death had hurt you a great deal. He was the one who raised you after your parents death. You had hoped to leave your traumas and problems in Monaco when you left at the ripe age of seventeen to pursue your dreams.
The estate was exactly the same as it was before, posh, proper, it screamed royalty just like the whole of Monaco. You opened the large antique black doors and walked into the place you once called home. You felt as if you were four again. Hugging your teddy bear to your chest, balling your eyes out after you heard the news about your parents private jet crashing. Your grandfather trying his level best to cheer you up, trying to make you laugh. Growing up he would try his level best to be your cheerleader you never had the heart to tell him that his jokes were terrible. He just wasn't the kind of person who would sacrifice everything for just a little girl who now seems to have the world in her hands. The house was empty, all the furniture covered with cream coloured sheets. Dust bunnies all over the place. Your grandfather would have hated to see the house like this. You ran your hands on the railing as you walked to your teenage bedroom. The room hitting you with a wave of nostalgia. The grand bed and the large balcony. You placed your suitcase in a corner. You went to the store room to take out fresh sheets, you'd be staying here for a while, so this needed to feel like home the way it did once. While taking out the sheets, you found the little black book that once was your whole entire life. You ran your hands through the pages of the album, laughing and giggling as you saw photos of you as a rebellious teenage girl, partying, going out with boys that was your whole life at a time but now modelling was your whole life. You wanted to say goodbye to this place in the most grand way possible. It was time to take an idea from that little black book and put it to use. You texted everyone you knew from your childhood.
Your sundress floated around in the warm air as you walked back from the little birthday shop across the street, bags in your hand filled with balloons, banners. You were super excited you had been waiting for a party to come around. Monaco had the best parties and this was going to be one of them.
The sky turned to dusk, and people started to enter the house. You greeted everyone with a smile on your face ready to get this party. The kitchen was filled with expensive booze. The music was loud everyone was in the centre of the living room, giggling and dancing. Couples in the corner making out, people throwing up in the bathroom. It was a typical high school rager just how you liked it. You joined people in the garage, playing beer pong with your high school friends, when you saw a familiar face walk in. It was your older brother's childhood best friend, Charles. Only he wasn't alone, next to him was a curly haired guy, with a small moustache. You waved to Charles as you gestured him to come over.
"Hey Y/N, how are you? I haven't seen you since forever, I heard about your grandfather how have you been doing".
You shot him a smile and engulfed him in a hug, "I am doing fine now, I see racing's been going well".
He let out a chuckle, "It's going".
"Who's your friend". You gestured to the handsome man standing next to Charles.
Charles wrapped an arm around the young man "Oh, yeah this is Lando"
You immediately put your hand forward to shake his hand. His warm hand enveloped your perfectly. It was a perfect fit.
"Hello, I am Lando, nice place you got here"
You told him your name and gave him a smile. When your phone started to ring, it was the young couple who was going to buy your grandfather's estate.
"I am sorry, I have to take this, have fun" You spoke and left the garage
What you didn't expect was the call to leave you in tears. Here you were sitting in your bathroom, crying and clutching your phone tightly in your hands. You quickly wiped your tears as you saw the same man come inside your bathroom, a red solo cup in hand.
"Oh, it's you again, I am sorry I thought no one was here". He spoke nervously looking at his shoes.
You chuckled "It is my home after all"
"Do you mind if I sit here"
"Yeah of course". He grabbed your vanity chair and sat on it. "So why are you crying".
"You saw that, you didn't hear anything right". You spoke suddenly becoming conscious of yourself.
He started to fidget with his fingers "No but do you want to talk about it". You raised your eyebrow at him.
He raised his hands in defence "Geez, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to".
"It's fine, it's just I used to live here with my grandfather after my parents died, now my grandfather's dead and I have come here all the way from New York to sell this house and the buyers who were originally going to buy this house backed out of the deal so now I am left with no buyers and no one who can continue to maintain this house".
His lips fell into a thin straight line, "There are so many people who would love to live here why don't you sell it to one of them".
You let out a sarcastic chuckle, "You don't get it this house is old, it's been here at the same spot in the same state, it's in top notch condition but every single person who wants to buy this house wants to rebuild it from scratch and my grandfather wouldn't like that, heck, he didn't even like me moving to New York".
You saw his face light up as he gave you the biggest smile you had ever experienced, "How about I buy it".
You burst into laughter at his proposition, you pointed a finger at him, "You want to buy this house"
He gave you a perplexed look, "Yeah it's a beautiful house". He pulled out his phone and started to type something, he shoved his phone in your face.
"Lando, Lando Norris" You spoke reading the long Wikipedia page he opened on himself. "So your an f1 driver like Cha, and you want to buy this house".
"Yes" He gave you a wink
"Fine, I'll sell you my house but you have to promise you won't try to rebuild it from scratch like those other dumbasses".
He nodded and linked your pinky finger together, "Promise, for how long are you here though"
"I was gonna be here for a month but now that I have a new buyer I might stay here for an extra month, stay in this house for a little more time before you move in here".
He looked at his phone and his eyes widened, "It's late very late, I'll come tomorrow to see the house then".
"Yeah, pleasure doing business with you" You shook his hand, "I should probably shoo these people away
𐙚
You woke up next morning in the comfort of your bed, stretching your arms you removed your silk sleeping mask and kept it on your nightstand. You walked towards your marble bathroom to get ready for the day. Putting on a cute little white dress, you got out of your bedroom heading downstairs to make some breakfast. This place was starting to feel like home again, but you knew you had to get back to New York, get back to your busy life, to the fashion weeks and flashing lights. Your phone lit up, it was a text message from an unknown number.
It's me Lando, I got your phone number from Charles, I am coming to see the house today, if that's okay with you?
You totally forgot about that, you were drunk out of your mind, you didn't think he was serious but it was worth a shot. He was pretty serious about buying your house. A knock made you come back to earth. You opened the door and were greeted by Lando, "Can I come in"
You opened the door widely, "Welcome to my humble abode".
His smile soon faded and his nose scrunched up, trying to pick up on the burning smell in the kitchen, "What's that smell?".
Oh shit. Your food was burning, you ran into the kitchen and immediately switched the stove off, you threw the burnt toast in the dustbin.
"Sorry, that was my breakfast".
"How about this, I see the house and you and I can go out and get food to finalise the deal".
You looked down at the floor shyly and nodded, "I'd love that".
𐙚
"And this is my bedroom, it's very girly I know but it'd make a perfect guest room, the view is amazing, the coastline, the warm air, the smell of the sea wafting in the air, what more could you ask for". You tried your best to makeup for the kitchen fiasco, worried that your carelessness might cause you the very great deal you had made.
Your blood ran cold when he chuckled, "Did you really think I would cancel our deal over that".
"Yeah"
He walked towards you, "I am serious about buying this house, it's beautiful just like it's owner".
"Is this your way of flirting with me".
He came closer to you, "Maybe".
You patted his chest, swatting him away playfully, "Nice try, we just met".
"Then get to know me".
You gave him a light smirk, "Maybe, after we finish the tour".
"This is the backyard, there's a huge pool over there, for sunbathing and pool parties, we have a small patch over there to grow vegetables and fruits, though it needs some water, ahh here's my favourite part of the backyard the gazebo, the backyard should be enough to knock your socks off along with the view of course". You spoke enthusiastically.
He clapped his hands together, "Your right this is a great investment, I am ready to buy this house right here right now".
You laughed loudly. Your laugh was like music to his ears, "Woah, easy there tiger there are some formalities first".
"Now that the tour is over how about that lunch".
You grabbed your bag from the table, "Fine, fine you got me".
𐙚
You and Lando, took a seat at a small café, surrounded by the serene beauty of Monaco. You could feel him staring at you, trying to hold his laugh, "Why are you dressed like that".
You fiddled with the flimsy menu held together in a small binder, "I thought you would understand, paparazzi, fans, I just don't want to get ambushed".
You admired this place, this little corner where you could come and eat, surrounded by flowers, greenery.
"Unlike you, I actually care about my fans, if anyone asks for a photo you give them what you want".
Taking off your designer sunglasses, you scoffed, "Clearly, your experience has been different". You ushered a waiter over to your table, "Umm, can I have the creamy pesto shrimp pasta and Lando what would you like to have".
The young Brit pointed his finger at some spot in the menu, "I'll have the cacio e pepe".
"So tell me more about yourself, your hobbies, ex-girlfriends". You wiggled your eyebrows amusingly
"Well with formula one I haven't found many hobbies, but I love streaming, I have a twitch account you should check it out, secondly, I have a couple ex-girlfriends".
"Aren't you a casanova".
"I am hardly a casanova, I am just too charming but enough about me and more about you, I want to know about your glamorous life in New York". He spoke taking a sip of his drink
You played around with the small paper straw in your pink lemonade, toying with the huge ice cubes, "It's not as thrilling as racing, but I get to wear pretty clothes, own many bags, get to travel for work a lot and the perks are just an addition but it isn't my favourite thing in the world".
His attention was now all on you his pasta untouched, and his eyes focused on you, "And what is this favourite thing of yours".
"It's quite funny, I don't know that myself".
You noticed how his face shifted, his lips curled into a frown. A guy like him only deserved to smile and looked his best when he was happy, "Then that's what we're going to find out till your here in Monaco".
"Aren't you busy with races". You questioned
He poked his cheek with his tongue giving you a tight lipped smile, "Oh, you can come to them too, cheer me on you know"
"That sounds fun".
"Trust me it is, so what do you want to do first".
You took a bite of your pasta, eyes widening slowly, "What, you mean you want to find my favourite thing now".
He gave his credit card to the young waitress, asking her to get him the cheque, "Yes now".
Here you were walking with 'The Lando Norris'. Holding gelato in your hand staring at the sun setting down."In all my years of living here I never appreciated the coastline until now".
You watched him take a huge bite of the pistachio ice cream in his hand, you knew he was regretting that bite by the look on his face, "Shit, this shit's cold".
"Were you even listening to me". You crossed your arms together forging a playful pout in order to guilt trip him.
"Something about the coastline".
"I guess you were listening".
You couldn't believe the man sitting next to you, eating his gelato and making jokes like a little child, the sun casting a warm glow on his face, enhancing his features you swore you had never seen a man as perfect as him before, "Come on, I'll take you home".
Riding in his Mclaren, your head out the window, your hair flowing in the air, you had never felt this alive before and it was all because of some guy who wanted to buy your house as a favour to you.
Now here he was standing in front of you, dropping you back home after an eventful day with that same droopy smile. There was tension but you couldn't act on it so you just smiled awkwardly, "I had fun today, same time tomorrow?"
"Heck yeah, I won't let you leave till we find that favourite thing of yours".
𐙚
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thewulf · 2 months
Text
Echoes of the Past || Aaron Hotchner
Summary: Request - Sooo, i have such a 😩😩 Hotch x reader idea. What if they have been to school togheter (you can decide whatever age and school they were in) and they were madly in love with each other perhaps they were even dating!!... Read Rest Here
A/N: Okay, wrote this one a lil different. Let me know if you guys like it or not. Trying to mature/up my writing style! And thank you for the request!
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader
Word Count: 1.8k
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He was your first and truest love. It was the way his smile lit up the classroom of your first law school class at George Washington University that made you do a double take. The first words he mumbled to you all those years ago are etched into your memory. His eyes held yours for every single second of that very first conversation, making you realize that he was a very special person.
On your very first date with Aaron, you knew you would love him for a very, very long time. When he took your face in his hands and peppered kisses all over your blushing cheeks, it dawned on you that you did indeed love him. You fell for him hard and fast. He was the first man who made you realize that another human could possibly feel the same way you did about him. He was a marvel. An enigma. Aaron Hotchner stole your heart and never gave it back.
With him, it was the first time you could truly let your guard down. You could just be yourself unashamedly. He was the first man who truly saw you in your rawest form. It was the first time you felt loved. So loved, without a second trace of doubt. He loved you, and you loved him for four beautiful years.
But as they say, all beautiful things must come to an end, for isn’t that what makes them truly beautiful? Your last kiss with him was the first time you kissed someone while crying harder than you ever could have imagined. It was the first time you realized the tears would never cease to fall.
It was the first time that you understood that the man who made you the happiest in this world was also the man who brought you the most anguish.
He was your first love. The first time you held the metaphorical bow and let him pull back the arrow aimed square at your chest. Your first love was trusting him not to let go, trusting him to protect your heart.
Your first love was never thinking, nor expecting, him to let it go. But he did.
The loss of your first love was like watching the sunrise fade into the twilight, a gradual dimming of the light that once illuminated your world. It starts with a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, a gnawing ache that refuses to be ignored.
At first, it was a distant whisper, a subtle shift in the air that hinted at the impending storm. You felt it in the way his laughter no longer reached your ears with the same warmth, in the way his touch left a hollow echo in your soul.
As the days passed, the void he left behind grew larger, swallowing you whole in its depths. It was a constant battle between holding on and letting go, between clinging to the memories like a lifeline and accepting the harsh reality of their absence.
Everywhere you turned, reminders of him lurked in the shadows, haunting your every thought and action. The places you once frequented together became battlegrounds of nostalgia, each familiar sight a painful reminder of what once was.
And then came the moment of reckoning, the realization that he was truly gone, never to return. It hit you like a tidal wave, crashing over you with a force that left you gasping for breath. The tears came freely then, a torrential downpour that washed away the remnants of your shattered heart.
In the aftermath of first love's loss, there was a profound sense of emptiness that permeated every corner of your being. It was as if a part of you had been ripped away, leaving behind a gaping wound that refused to heal.
But amidst the pain and sorrow, there was also a glimmer of hope, a faint whisper of resilience that echoed in the depths of your soul. For in the darkness of loss, there lay the opportunity for growth, for transformation, for the rebirth of a heart that had been broken but not defeated.
And so, you picked up the pieces of your shattered dreams, one by one, and slowly but surely, you began to rebuild. For though first love may be lost, its memory lingered like a bittersweet melody, a testament to the beauty and the pain of loving with all your heart.
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The bustling streets of Washington D.C. hummed with the energy of a city in perpetual motion, a constant ebb and flow of life. Amidst the throngs of pedestrians, Aaron Hotchner navigated his way through the crowd, his mind heavy with the weight of his profession. As a seasoned agent with the BAU, his days were filled with the relentless pursuit of justice, often leading him far from the familiar streets of D.C.
It was amidst one such case, miles away from home, that the memories of you began to surface. You had been college sweethearts, your love a beacon of light in a world tinged with uncertainty. But as your careers diverged, your relationship faltered under the strain of distance and time.
The decision to part ways had been a painful one, a choice dictated by circumstance rather than desire. Aaron's commitment to his work with the BAU demanded his presence elsewhere, while you were on the brink of embarking on your career as a lawyer. It was a choice neither of you wanted to make, but one that fate had thrust upon you nonetheless.
And so, you said your goodbyes, your hearts heavy with the weight of unspoken words and unfinished dreams. It was a wound that had never truly healed, a scar that lingered as a constant reminder of what could have been.
As Aaron returned to D.C., the memories of your shared past haunted him like ghosts from another lifetime. And then, amidst the chaos of a particularly grueling case, fate intervened, bringing him face to face with you once more.
You stand before him, a vision of grace and beauty amidst the chaos of your surroundings. Your eyes meet on the busy streets of D.C., and for a fleeting moment, time seems to stand still as you take in each other's presence.
"Y/N," Aaron breathes, his voice barely above a whisper.
You smile, a bittersweet curve of your lips that speaks volumes of the years you have spent apart. "Aaron," you say softly, your voice laced with a mixture of emotions.
The air crackles with tension as you exchange hesitant glances, the weight of your shared history hanging heavy in the air.
"It's been too long," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.
Aaron nods, his heart pounding in his chest as he struggles to find the right words to say. "I never stopped thinking about you," he confesses, his voice raw with emotion.
And just like that, the floodgates open, words tumbling out in a rush of pent-up emotions and buried truths. You speak of the whispers of your long lost love, of the secrets that tore the two of you apart, of the regrets that haunted your dreams.
Over coffee, you expose your much more complex souls to each other, laying bare the scars of your past in hopes of finding solace in each other's arms once more. You reminisce about your college days, the late-night study sessions and impromptu road trips that had defined your relationship.
But amidst the laughter and shared memories, there is a lingering sadness, a sense of loss that hangs heavy in the air. For you both know that the reunion is bittersweet, a reminder of the years you have spent apart, the moments you can never reclaim. As the conversation progresses, you both find yourselves drawn deeper into the past, unraveling the tangled threads of your shared history.
"I still remember the first time we met," you say, your voice soft with nostalgia. "You walked into that classroom, and I couldn't take my eyes off you."
Aaron's gaze softens, memories flickering behind his eyes. "I was so nervous," he admits with a chuckle. "But the moment I saw you, everything just...clicked."
You share a smile, the weight of years melting away in the warmth of your reminiscence. It's as though time has folded in on itself, bringing you back to that moment when the world was full of endless possibilities.
"Do you ever wonder what might have been?" you ask, the question hanging between you like a fragile thread.
Aaron's expression grows somber, his eyes searching yours for answers. "Every day," he confesses, his voice barely a whisper. "I never stopped thinking about you, wondering if I made the right choice."
You reach across the table, your fingers brushing against his in a silent gesture of understanding. "We were young," you say softly. "We had our whole lives ahead of us, and we made the best choices we could at the time."
There's a heaviness in your words, a weight of regret and longing that threatens to pull you under. But beneath it all, there's also a glimmer of hope, a spark of possibility that refuses to be extinguished.
"We can't change the past," Aaron murmurs, his gaze never leaving yours. "But maybe...maybe we can learn from it."
The words hang in the air, pregnant with meaning. It's a fragile hope, born from the ashes of broken dreams and shattered promises. But it's also the only thing you have left to hold onto, the last vestige of a love that refuses to die.
And so, you lean into each other, seeking solace in the warmth of your shared embrace. In that moment, surrounded by the hustle and bustle of the city, you find a measure of peace, a fleeting glimpse of the happiness that once was and could be again.
The days that follow are a blur of stolen moments and whispered confessions. You walk hand in hand through the familiar streets of D.C., lost in your own little world of memories and dreams.
But among the joy of your reunion, there's also a sense of trepidation, a fear that history will repeat itself, tearing you apart once more. It's a shadow that lingers at the edge of your consciousness, a reminder of the fragility of your newfound happiness.
"I don't know if I can do this again, Aaron," you confess one evening, the words tumbling out before you can stop them.
Aaron's gaze softens, his fingers intertwining with yours as he pulls you close. "We'll take it one step at a time," he murmurs, his voice a soothing balm against the ache in your heart. "Together."
And in that moment, as you stand together beneath the star-studded sky, you know that you are embarking on a journey far greater than anything you could have imagined. It's a journey filled with twists and turns, highs and lows, but above all, it's a journey you will navigate together, hand in hand, hearts entwined.
For who said first loves can't also turn out to be your forever love? You are determined to prove them wrong, to rewrite the story of your love in a way that defies all expectations. And together, hand in hand, hearts entwined, you know that anything is possible.
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Aaron Hotchner/Criminal Minds: Permanent Taglist (If you'd like to be added to any or all works please fill out the form here: (Taglist Sign Up) @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @daily-evanstan @hardballoonlove @14buddy22 @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @mrs-ssa-hotch @panandinpain0 @viscade @kreepja @il0vebeingdelulu @hiireadstuff @kajjaka @guacam011y @kreepja
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g-xix · 2 months
Text
☁️Return from Sri Lanka | ArthurTV
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The sound of keys slotting into the door - the metal on metal you'd usually clench your teeth in anger upon hearing - alternately kindled explosions within your stomach, like little kernels popping into bubbles of elation and excitement as the keys turned in the apartment door.
Instantly you were up on your feet, throwing the duvet one way and skidding around the corridor in fluffy socks that would've almost definitely had you slipping over the hard floors, if not for the ecstatic sprint that carried you to the door.
The moment the door was pushed open - just far enough for you to catch a glimpse of a person behind it - you'd already jumped to close the gap.
Knocking the air out of him, you launched past the threshold and wrapped your arms around his middle, knocking the air out of him as you buried your head against his chest. With a huff of exertion upon having the wind knocked from his body, Arthur felt his waist being completely squished by your grip as you bundled him in a nearly bone-crushing hug - yet still the surge of oxytocin urged him to wrap his own arms around your shoulders, reciprocating your love as he felt the same smile blooming across his lips. All too happy to find himself within your arms all over again.
"I missed you, baby..."
You knew that it'd be straining when Arthur told you that Chip had asked him to go to Sri Lanka for a week for a video. And yet you hadn't considered quite HOW straining it'd be until day four hit, and you were spooning ice cream into your mouth at three am and watching Arthur's old videos on a phone screen under a blanket, sniffling and waiting to see a typing... notification to pop up with Arthur's name the subject.
Yet the feeling of Arthur's white cotton tee-shirt against your cheek, radiating his own body warmth through the thin material made everything feel complete again. The feeling of his arms pressing you into his body, curled so domestically perfectly and holding you so tightly that you could feel each defined muscle of his pecs to his lower abs through the shirt against your own body took your mind away from those lonely nights and filled you with such a sense of solace and wholeness that Arthur was with you again. 
"I can tell"
You laughed into his shirt, letting your forehead rest against his body as you took a deep breath to calm your whirring mind - the sole thought of Arthur and nothing else ricocheting around your brain - though Arthur's unforgettable scent simply filled your lungs with the deep inhale, only further fuelling your Arthur-centric thoughts. 
"I missed you too, gorgeous..."
That scent of pine and familiar cedar flooded your senses and filled your lungs, filling your circulatory system with nothing but nostalgia and fullness at that accustomed aroma you'd missed so much whilst he'd been gone.
You could feel every individual molecule of your body tingling like a firework, ready to explode into millions of colourful glittering specks as you pulled away from the hug - hands still attached to either elbow so that you could look up and admire your boyfriend live in the flesh, for the first time in what'd been a long week for the both of you.
"Fucking beautiful."
He was the one who said it, but you were the one who felt it as you took your sweet time looking over Arthur's face, savouring every sweet minute detail as though you were memorising a picture you never wanted to forget. 
Jet-lagged, scruff grown out into a fuller stubble, hair messy and sticking up in all directions - he was still the most gorgeous man you could ever imagine to lay eyes upon. His skin had a golden glow to it from the time he'd spent abroad - his pupils blown out and still demurely doe shaped, lips still their perfectly irresistible pink, illuminated with the warm white lamp which only highlighted the subtle curve of his triceps peaking out from beneath the white 'manwhore'  shirt, as you'd dubbed it. 
"I don't think I've ever been happier to see somebody in my life."
"Would you believe me if I said that's exactly what I was just thinking?"
You never realised what the phrase music to my ears meant until that moment, Arthur's voice calming every jumpy nerve within your body with his mellifluously husky voice. His voice sounded like honey being grated. So smooth, as though it belonged in a symphony - and yet gravelly and rough like a sandpapered morning voice. That harmonious juxtaposition that completed itself to make the sweetest sounds that could lull you to sleep whilst also simultaneously get you on your knees in seconds.
Not that giving head was concurrent in your mind as you basked in Arthur's presence lovingly for the first time in what you realised was undeniably too long.
"You don't understand just how happy I am to be home with you," Arthur sighed contentedly, letting his arms slacken and his backpack drop to the floor, warm smile on his face as he stepped through the door and locked it behind him, too.
You couldn't have been happier to have him back.
Seeing his gorgeous face, smelling his delectable aftershave, hearing that grated-honey voice - you'd mentally ticked off how each sense was stimulated by Arthur - and yet just one final one was needed noting, and lucky for you, Arthur had already beaten you to it.
You squealed as Arthur's hands found your hips, easily sweeping you off the ground and pulling you close to him instead - your legs instinctually wrapping around his waist as he lifted you up. 
His lips crashed into yours, a fucking frenzy of fireworks and passion igniting a wildfire within your core, his soft and cocoa butter flavoured lips moving so desperately against yours that you felt no shame in the way you bit his lower lip back - chasing his taste, his touch, his everything as your lips moved synchronously against one another.
Your hands running through his fluffy brunette locks, only spiking and messying them up more, his hands supporting your weight by sitting shamelessly on your ass - there was undeniable yearning between the two of you as neither backed down or separated even as you struggled for oxygen.
Only when Arthur's lashes tickled your cheek, you couldn't stop yourself from breaking the kiss to let out a laugh, almost unbelieving that Arthur was back already.
"God, I missed you."
"Let me make it up to you then..."
"Harry Potter marathon until we fall asleep, together?"
"My gosh, I missed you too."
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Ahh ATV fluff, we love to see it‼️‼️‼️ Hope that's fulfilled your goofy lil atv dreams for a while everyone :]]
Hope you enjoyed reading!! Feel free to interact- whether that be a comment, vote or follow! Requests open, feel free to submit what u wanna see... Much love!!
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And here's my WATTPAD, with 50+ more oneshots to read
198 notes · View notes
brandycranby · 4 months
Text
ce characters + their skill at wrapping presents (based on technique, style, and enthusiasm) 🎁✨
crocheting a last minute gift rn hehe
steve: 9.5/10. the military precision comes in clutch when it's time to measure out wrapping paper. if he's not doing the wrapping himself, he's at your elbow with tape strips and scissors when you need them. gift bags? hell no, back in his day, presents were wrapped (ok old man 🙄💕) heh expect steve to come home with half a dozen new tubes of gift wrap because he just can't resist the cuteness (target snoopy paper, beloved 🥺💕)
andy: 7/10. if he did it himself that is 😌 this is a man of experience and few close relatives. the holidays are a quiet uneventful time for him (besides the odd party) and he spends it with you, showering you in gifts and treats for the new year. most of those treats come with complimentary gift wrapping that he'll most definitely take advantage of hehe if not, he's a sparkly gift bag kinda guy
ari: 8/10. he doesn't have much skill at getting those sharp corners on a wrapped box but can he curl a ribbon or what? great color sense, he doesn't look like it but he can tell a french silver from classic silver 😌💕 whatta man whatta man. eight presents though, that's a lot of gift ideas to come up with. defaults to cash and gift cards for some nights, slaps a ribbon on top and adds mesh bag of chocolate coins and calls it a night
johnny: 6/10. look, he's a guy. still, he's a guy with a big sister. sue comes over and they make a night in of it. wrapping paper is everywhere, someone gets hit with a tube, nothing's lit on fire but reed's gift is singed and labeled "to: asshole". it's probably just fruit of the loom boxers. your gift though? he keeps adding stocking stuffers until sue makes him use a wicker basket to hold everything bc "it's chic, johnny, and a paper bag can't hold all of that."
ransom: 5/10 +3 effort points. ONCE HE TRIES?? HE TRIES!!! i mean not for his parents' gifts, he probably amazon shipped those to their house. but he'll pull out the ribbons, the glitter, the tinsel, the special wrapping paper just for you 🥹💕 ransom doesn't really Get It, not until you have a day of present prep with him. cups of hot drinks and a movie on in the back, that sort of warm nostalgia that's so familiar yet distant from what he's known 🥺surprisingly good eye for it
jake: 4/10. oh lord he tries. he tries so damn hard. the living room is a wreck, there's tape everywhere and mismatched wrapping paper. he measures a length of paper too small and worries about cutting another one because you like that paper!! you'd probably cry if he wasted it!! so he takes a discard piece and kinda... band-aids it together... oh baby 😔 also how do you wrap plushies??? (put it in a box, jake, please put it in a box)
curtis: 7/10. solid score because he goes for maximum efficiency and doesn't take a break until every single present is completely hidden in gift wrap, tissue paper, ribbons, bows, and a gift tag. would be a 10 if he was a little more fancy and a little less practical about his present style. but he has the assembly line efficiency and it helps you get everything done in one day so kudos 😊 points off for getting suspicious when you take a long pee break tho
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since i've started writing this hc list, i've redone my amigurumi THREE TIMES. why do i do this to myself. i also wrapped last minute gifts like a jake today heh
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tvgals · 11 months
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- SAVE A HORSE, RIDE A COWBOY !
- the mha boys being ur big himbo country husband !!
cw- black! reader, y’all both grew up in the country somewhat, this is self indulgent srry (especially katsuki’s)
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- IZUKU MIDORYIA
imagine him doing work on the farm w his hair js drenched and oil on his arm
“sweetheart? i have lemonade!” you beam, bringing out a tray of two lemonades for you and your hardworking husband. “hey darlin’. your dress looks real nice.” izuku compliments, wiping his forehead of the building up sweat.
“well thank you!” you grin, handing izuku a lemonade and plopping down right next to him. “been workin’ hard. gotta get stuff right for you nd our lil’ youngin’.” coo’d your green haired husband, a reassuring hand resting on your belly. “i know, and i’m so proud of you.” you whisper, kissing izuku on his temple.
- KATSUKI BAKUGO
he’s the cutest
he loves using your grandmas recipes
“whatcha bakin’, baby?” you ask, wrapping your hands around katsuki’s biceps. “peach cobbler. you said you missed the way your grandma made it.” katsuki replied, a sweet smile on his face. you grin, you can only reminisce when your grandma would tell you and your thirsty cousins you’d have to wait until the rest of the family got there to eat a slice, the nostalgia hitting like a truck.
“yeah?” you say, the smell of peaches hitting your nose, but you know you’d have to wait a while to experience it best. “yep. only for my pretty wife.” katsuki turns around and kisses your forehead, holding you close.
-EJIROU KIRISHIMA
he’s so
he’s such a husband
he loves you
“cmon love bugs,” says eijirou, shaking you and your four year old son awake. “needa’ get y’all up, got stuff to do.” you groan, rolling to face your beefy husband. “i’m up..” you whine, rubbing your glossy eyes. “sure you are.” kirishima teases, pressing a kiss onto your nose. he then gets up and walks into the kitchen to start breakfast. “wake up babes..” you rub your sons back, trying to wake him up.
“what ya want for breakfast, honey?” kirishima comes back, standing in the doorway with this apron on. “i already have those strawberries in the freezer from last night, could have some of those, biscuits, rice, and eggs?” kirishima asks, smiling at you and y’all’s son. “that’s fine. thank you baby.” you grin. “anything, precious.”
- SHOTO TODOROKI
he’s such a family man
he loves family gatherings where he can cook on the grill
“shoto’s outside cookin’ the ribs.” you direct your mom, she’d asked ‘where was shoto?’ just so she could ask him all about you two’s relationship. (like the two of you aren’t already married) the rest of your family fawns over shoto any chance they get. they love the way he carries himself, the way he treats you and your family.
“baby?” shoto calls from the deck outside, you weave your way through the mix of you two’s family (mostly yours) and walk up to shoto. “yes?” you reply. only to get a soft kiss as a response. “i love you.”
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The uncrowned king of no man's land
duke of the north!wriothesley x fem reader
arranged marriage, romance, kingdom setting
Part 1
People who came to the Fortress of Meropide dukedom were either officials, guards, or criminals. After all, it is the "wasteland" of the kingdom of Fontaine—though you're not sure you're fitted to any of the category mentioned above. A mere diplomatic pawn you are; that's right, you're going to that northern dukedom. The Iudex worked hard to solve everlasting (one-sided) feud between the noble faction and the current duke residing in the Fortress of Meropide, and have came to the solution that the relationship between the noble faction and the duke may be mended through marital means. He chose Count Hugues, a noble who publicly opposed the duke to present one of his many daughters as the soon-to-be bride of the duke. And out of six beautiful daughters, five of which he spoiled, he picked you, the adopted daughter who happens to be a great convenient scapegoat. Your talents in swordmanship and mastering the pyro elements fell short on the count's eyes now as he easily sacrifices you to keep his five beautiful, frail biological daughters at home, waiting to be married to a good, rich noble.
So here you are, the soon-to-be bride of the duke, accompanied by your escorts to the Fortress of Meropide dukedom. You secretly sneak a grin as you cover your face with your hands, pretending to quietly cry and be distressed. No one should know you're secretly happy about this whole arranged marriage, because then the escorts will find you suspicious.
I'm finally out of that hell house. Fuck them, that shitty count and his bitchy daughters. And his idiot wife too. And everyone in that house.
Should've burned the house down before I left, you thought to yourself. To kill time as you wait the boat to reach the end of the underground water tunnel, you continue letting your mind idly wander.
Piercing eyes stab you in the back as the escorts seated next to you look down at you in disgust—apparently bloodline is very important for the nobles of Fontaine. Used to their treatment, you roll your eyes silently, unbothered with their unsubtle attitude. The whole reason you're in this situation right now is also because of those fontainian nobles; backstabbing, judging hypocrites who find it outrageous that someone of criminal background could rise to equal standing as them. And the duke couldn't care less because he had all the money in the world to mind his own business.
Who suggested the count that you must be accompanied with a bunch of escorts to the dukedom anyway? This bunch of losers are killing you with their repeated poor attitude towards you. You're convinced that they're sent here to be with you so they make sure you suffer somewhat in the dukedom and then they could gather something to accuse the duke of. You wish you could just burn them all off, but doing so may will struck the already severed diplomatic relationship even worse, so you keep your lips shut and sit silently in the corner of the boat heading towards the dukedom.
The air feels stuffy and damp, as expected of an underground water tunnel. It smells like sea and iron. Someone could piss down here and no one would notice given the sharp tanginess of such scent—or, you bet, someone already has. The scenery of underground tunnels and murky water reminds you of your old home residing just below the capital; Fleuve Cendre. Not that you miss it, but the nostalgia hits hard. Fleuve Cendre was known as the ugly place in Fontaine, and based on rumors you've heard, The Fortress of Meropide dukedom is no different. The only difference is at the dukedom, there are more killers, while pickpockets and alcoholics roam the streets more often in Fleuve Cendre.
"We're here." Said one of the guards. The long tunnel finally reached its end, revealing a cold and unwelcoming entrance used to greet criminals. Clank, the tip of the boat lightly bump the entrance. Everyone's heartbeat start to race.
Anxiety engulfed the escorts as they get off the boat, while you try your best staying calm and composed.
I've experience a lot of shit in my life already. I can do this.
You change your stature and body language subtly, making sure you act and look like a noble you were raised as. The escorts cowardly stand behind you, afraid of what the guards could do to them.
Clink. Clink. Clink.
The sound of dangling handcuffs and a very nuanced footsteps can be heard. As the guards change formation to make way for the duke, you notice the deadly piercing eyes gazing upon you in alert. Pretty eyes, you admit, icy white irises that rekindles nostalgia.
"Welcome, the sixth daughter of Count Hugues and her escorts. We have long awaited your arrival." He spoke, and you can feel the vibration of his voice intimidating the whole room.
You hold your breath.
I can do this Can I really do this?
To be Continued.
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