#sets the amount of parts this episode has down at your feet and. just. like. smiles @ u. :)

[oncewhenalongtimeago]

(SbITILYP request) I wonder what hiccup thinks about his dad burning holes into the back of the girl he has a crush on's head. Maybe Hiccup would try to apologize for it afterwards. + the almost-kissing-her thing

Sorry, but I Think I Lost Your Plot pt 21

Pairing: Onesided!Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III x Modern!Fem!Reader

Words: 2,700

Hiccup gets better at this romance thing.

Tags: Time Travel, Reader into Movieverse, Dragons: Defenders of Berk, Fright of Passage, post episode, Hiccup’s POV

<Previous - Next>

The incident with the Flightmare took up a lot of time and energy and after how quickly you’d fled once Thornado had landed back on Berk, he hadn’t seen you much at all, much less had time to talk to you.

He shifted on the short wooden bench, the unsanded grit of its surface and the uneven length of its legs causing it to feel odd and off balance as he shifted over it.

Hiccup glanced past the metal framing holding up an empty, crusted pot over the fire, whose heat was licking at his calves beneath his trousers and flickering against the majority of his torso.

He clutched a small, oblong glass shape as he glared forwards, cool against his skin through the fabric of his tunic, hidden away by his vest, securely stored in a secret pocket he’d sewed in for specifically this purpose.

The bioluminescent algae seemed to have been lost, for the most part.

The others had been a bit shifty around him, in a way that was more shifty than malicious. He had the sinking suspicion that they might’ve caught on to his little crush.

The heavy beating of boot and peg against old wooden floors. It was really ironic that the Chiefs; hut was the only one that hadn’t been burned on the regular. His Dad was very attentive towards his house.

His Dad’s face was set and shoulders hunched, a remnant from earlier when he had been awkwardly tending to his own meal.

Hiccup’s own face was slightly sour. He was still mad at his Dad for… everything.

Both Hiccup and Stoick ignored the sound of clattering dishes in the background.

Stoick grumbled as Hiccup’s expression turned just a bit scowlier, sitting in his large wooden chair which sometimes seemed yet as if it couldn’t hold every bit of him, across the fire pit from Hiccup, who had a bowl in his lap and was sitting in quite the hunched manner, “You like the… Delivery girl.”

“You know her?” Hiccup asked nervously, pulling at his tunic collar.

Stoick shifted, his brown fur cloak spilling over the arms of his chair.

“He has the lass come up here and clean around sometimes!” Gobber said, rifling around in one of the chests lining the wall, the horns of his helmet clattering against mounted shields and other sharp weapons and he turned carelessly, arms wide,

“What?!” Hiccup asked, voice pitch nearly at a screech.

He was scared immediately that you’d seen smoke things you shouldn't've. What had you seen?

Hiccup took a moment to pause and bring his voice down, maybe a bit deeper than it needed to be, even as his heart rate picked up.

“If you want ‘er, Ye need tae sweep her off her feet!” Gobber clapped Hiccup hard on the place shoulder met back, causing Hiccup to stumble forward as the big man swept his other arm outwards.

He grimaced.

He’d already been doing a good amount of sweeping. He doubted anyone would take well to being accosted in the way Gobber described. What did Gobber know about women, anyways?

He should put on his red tunic, though.

Hiccup was very attracted to that idea.

Oh, Gods, he really hoped you hadn’t seen too much.

“...Hey,” Hiccup said, looking at you, as always, basket in hand. A woven one this time, made of long grasses that brushed and scraped along the sides of your skirt.

He was sort of impressed with himself, and the fact that he hadn’t fumbled over anything at all yet.

You weren’t looking him in the eye at all, which meant he had definitely totally completely messed up.

“Hi,” You responded, voice pitched so he could tell you were nearly squeaking.

It only took a few days. That might have been to the effect of all the stuff he’d dumped in it, too.

The Flightmare left tracks, and from what little he could salvage- the spare scale, which was nearly translucent upon detachment, and some slime he picked up from some of the more plant-like dragons, he ended up being able to speed up the growth 

He’d… Nabbed some of Fishlegs’ notes for that. He wouldn’t mind. Hopefully.

Hiccup had lent him Toothless for the day, after all, albeit with more grump than was probably appropriate. 

The dragon seemed alright with it, too, ready to show off his tail, a sparking nadder blue, his replacement after the red one had been ripped back on Fireworm island.

Hiccup palmed the vial in his pocket, “I, ah…”

As an apology, he’d found someone willing to bring in some rose bushes. It took a lot, but it was worth it. For you, that was. He got some others in on it, though of course he never told them why. They didn’t have the bushes yet, but soon.

For the person you were, to him, even if you didn’t get it yet.

And he’d done something else, too.

He was going to try surprising you with it. Or not. 

He was worried he might scare you off.

“Sorry,” He started, “About my Dad. He’s just-Well, he’s…”

You shrugged balefully, “I get it? I’m not-...”

“Right,” Hiccup nodded, “Yeah, okay.”

It was silent for a few long moments.

You were both standing by the bridge out into the forest, the clear ends around it lined by trees, freshly planted.

At this point, the two of you had to have been experts in deciphering stutters and half-spoken words.

He could kill a large dragon and win over Astrid, but he couldn’t talk to you at all. He didn’t have the courage. Or, maybe it wasn’t about courage.

Hiccup wasn’t afraid. He wasn’t shy. 

He did stupid things all the time.

There was just something about you, or maybe something about him, that kept most things from coming out right. That made him just a little bit nervous. 

“I-well, I wanted to say sorry. Would you be fine following me for a bit?”

You paused for a second

“Just… Come on,” He said, somewhat hesitantly. He was sure by then his face was blotchy with flush, “It’s in the woods. Is that…?”

You nodded.

Hiccup held in a sigh of relief, “Alright. Well, then…”

Back in the village, it looked like a few vikings had taken to terraforming Berk, though you had no idea why. 

You weren’t sure where Toothless was. Probably… Off, 

Maybe they were inspired, you had no clue. Something about bushes or brushes or something and house paint.

You nearly tripped over a particularly large, gnarled root as you moved past Hiccup, holding aside a branch with leaves, half expecting to get murdered, or something. That’s what he brought you out into the woods for, right?

This was a particularly dark part of the forest, packed with leaves and moss in a way no spot on Berk had been before the Red Death had been defeated, with all the dragons burning most of everything down. 

It had already been darkening by the time Hiccup had asked you to follow, and though Hiccup had long since ceased to weird you out at all, the thoughts came unbidden.

You took a few steps forwards, shuffling slightly, looking around at the world, washed over with a blue filter, and at the vines crawling up the trees, before you paused, taking notice of a light, bright and gentle and nearly not there glowing against mottled bark.

You looked down, and then your eyes widened slightly.

You weren’t sure how you missed it, but below, there was a pool.

You stared down at it, glowing and dark under the canopy of the leaves above.

“So, what do you think?”

You heard Hiccup asked from behind you, his own boot and prosthetic shuffling against packed, fallen leaves and damp mulch.

Your face felt hot in a tingling, bright way as you stared down into the slowly moving water.

Was this all from the Flightmare?

It was something you might’ve seen in the news in the foreseen future, the same type of glow you’d see lurking inside a glow stick.

“Oh,” You said. You’d heard about it and you were sure all of the glowing algae had been washed out to sea. 

“I was hoping you’d like it,” Hiccup said hesitantly, “Do you?”

Your heart felt like it was on fire too, in the way that it only could when butterflies and bugs and other flighty, flippant nerve things were preening around in your organs.

Maybe Hiccup did like you, after all.

“Wow,” You stumbled forwards a few more feet until you were overlooking a small dirt ledge which had to be at least a yard tall, held together by roots and sticks and other dead plants. 

It overlooked the rest of the pond by a little bit, overseeing edges kept aloft in quite a similar fashion, like one of those deep, neverending kinds of pools made of a beautiful blue with no bottom, toeing the line between dangerous and beautiful that most people would only ever lay eyes on in photos. 

In this moment, perhaps heightened by the mood and atmosphere, everything felt a bit softer. You were sure the light of the pool was glittering back through your eyes, chest light and full of wonder and awe.

You said nothing yet, awkwardly turning so that your back hit the sturdy trunk of a large tree, sliding down slowly and displacing moss until you were sitting down against the uneven, steep packed, large roots of a tree, moss tickling your back through your shirt.

You felt like you might slide down into it if you loosened your legs just a bit from where they kept you steady, braced against moss and dirt. 

Small flecks of dirt tumbled down into the pool under them, hitting ferns and the occasional fungus, mushrooms that looked as if they’d just bud, hinting at a similar glow to the bright light of the pool as toes of your boots played a risky game with the dirt ledge over the pond.

“So... A good apology, all things considered?” He prompted. 

You nearly forgot about Hiccup, still standing by the streeline, which was, admittedly, also very close by the water. 

You brought your knees up to your chin, which you rested on top of your elbows, your cheeks feeling warm as you smiled into them, not in the hot way they had been just a moment before, but with a soft feeling that came from deep in your chest, feeling a lot like a crackling fire in the heart or the smell of a warm cup of cocoa, fluffy white marshmallows floating along the top.

You didn’t look over, but the hairs of your neck, which were standing, and a tickling in the corner of your still focused eye told you Hiccup was watching you. 

You wondered what his expression looked like. Was it fond, or goofy, or blank?

Did he feel anything at all at the sight? 

Had he really done this all for you?

The water rippled and the algae grew brighter as it did. There was a light dusting of blue foam across the surface and if you looked ever so slightly you could spot the occasional speck of something swimming around in the water, though you were sure it was too small to be a fish.

A sea monkey? A bug? A glowing speck?

You were certain it was not safe to swim in, but it was unbelievably gorgeous, framed by dipping and swaying ferns in the near complete darkness.

“Yeah,” You said mumbling into your elbow, noticing in your periphery as Hiccup moved forwards to stand by your side, “Yeah, I think so.”

You felt the hesitant dusting of a few fingers against your shoulder before they disappeared, twitching away and displacing the air by your ears, the feel of them there and gone causing all the hairs along your arm and neck to stand on end.

You found yourself tilting your head away from the touch, hiding the bashful flush of your face as Hiccup spoke again, “I also… I got you something else, too.”

You delicately took what was offered by a careful hand and held up the vial, smooth, clean and cool between your fingertips, a liquid inside glowing in a similar fashion to the pool in front of you and the mystical blue-washed world around.

Hiccup definitely wasn’t the type of guy to be able to keep something so clean- everything he had -books, blankets, papers, the occasional crafter compass for trade- they were all smudged by soot or the oil of skin and at the very least slightly folded in corners.

Against all odds, though, there it was. He must’ve taken great care with it.

You looked up at him.

You were sure you’d imagined it, because things like that didn’t happen in reality, and definitely not on the faces turned cartoon and whimsy to real and solid and in full, real life, completely discernable human graphic definition, but that glowing, sparkly feeling you were certain he clouds see plain as day- you felt fresh, believing for just a moment you could see it in his eyes too.

Hiccup’s head was in the clouds, his cheeks buzzing in a pleasant way, traveling up to his ears in a way that almost made him want to rub them, warm and heady and tingling in a way that was slightly ticklish.

His shoulder brushed against yours, your pinky fingers brushing together, slightly hooked, mimicking earlier when his fingers teased your palm in the imitation of a hold as the two of you walked back from the woods.

“Is it fine if we…” Your fingers came together again, the two of you turning to each other once the sound of boots and peg against wood turned into the softer, more muffled sound of weights padding against dirt.

Hiccup didn’t know he had it in him, but it was less an action made by choice and more led by an automatic zone, a feeling for what came next brought on by feeling and comfortability influenced by the ambiance, though that wasn’t to say he himself felt casual about it at all. 

Your hands were slightly shaky.

His heart was rocketing the whole time, blood pumping and beating in his eardrums.

“Separate?” Hiccup finished as you glanced off towards the darkened village, resisting the urge to shiver as a cool breeze blew by, fit to match the now dark sky, coming in from the side of him that faced the woods. 

On the other, closer to his back he noticed a very faint yellow light, warm and emanating from where he suspected the stairs to the hall lay, within which the larger half of Berk was most likely pulling together their nightly meal.

“You’ll be… fine?” He asked, breath nearly stuttering as the two of you tilted his head forwards, your foreheads so close they were nearly touching, “You can still- You can have my coat, still.”

“It’s okay,” You said, the focus of your eyes flickering from down by your hands to his face, before your hands separated.

“Thanks,” You said simply, before turning and walking forwards a few feet, a cool breeze causing your skirt to wave.

You glanced back as you left, unsure as if you were subconsciously asking if it was okay for you to leave.

Hiccup thought his legs might give out.

The night breeze was extra cold on Hiccup’s hands and back as he watched you go, though the warm, glowing feeling in his chest remained, moving down into the village, disappearing into the dark maze of alleys and open halls.

He was a night owl, as most of Berk tended to be after years of nightly raids. 

He wouldn’t be sleeping. 

He could work on blueprints for the sewage system. That was a whole project in and of itself. But with the tunnels below the village and all the dragon power they had in Berk, it might’ve just been doable. 

But as he stared out into the still quiet of the empty village, he realized he’d probably just be thinking about you instead.

#httyd #how to train your dragon #x reader #fanfiction #hiccup haddock #hiccup x reader #httyd imagine #fem reader #female reader

[wrenreid]

Off Limits

content warnings: mentions of death, talk of the case from season 5 episode 12, mentions of a gun and violence…

Part Two

“Dr. Reid?” I question, baffled.

I see the recognition click in his eyes as well. “Wait, Jade?”

“Why the hell are you in my dad’s apartment?” I ask the man a few feet ahead of me.

“He asked me to babysit Jack. Why are you here?” He asks then rephrases his question. “I mean, I didn’t know you were going to be home.”

“It’s spring break. I thought Jack was going to be with Aunt Jess?”

“He was, but she got called into work,” he tells me. “Why are you getting home so late?” It sounds like something my dad would ask, but Reid’s tone is a lot less harsh and judge mental than his would be; it’s more curious.

“I was at a party.”

“Oh,” he nods then takes his eyes over my outfit with a look that says ‘should’ve known that.’

“Jesus, Dr. Reid. I thought I was going to have to shoot someone.”

“Yeah, speaking of. Would you point the gun away from my direction?”

“Right,” I say with a half chuckle and unload the weapon.

I go back to the safe and put the gun up safely.

I hear light footsteps, and my little brother appears from the stairs, rubbing his tired eyes. “What’s happening?”

“Sorry for the noise, bud-” I start to say but am caught off by Jack running up to me and hugging my legs.

“Jade!” I hear the excitement in his voice.

I laugh softly and bend down to pick up my four-year-old brother. I rest him on my hip. He’s getting heavier.

“You’re home,” he smiles up at me.

My lips turn up into a grin as well. “I am. Did you miss me?”

“Mhm,” Jack nods, and I almost melt at this amount of joy on this kid’s face.

“I missed you too, Jack Jack,” I smile, kissing my brother’s forehead.

He giggles softly and wraps his small arms around my shoulders.

Dr. Reid gives me a look, but he’s smiling softly. I know he’s silently telling me that my father will kill him if Jack stays up any longer than this.

I set my brother down and offer him my hand. “C’mon, bubba, let’s get back to bed.”

“But, J-” he starts to whine.

“No buts. You need your sleep so you can grow big and strong.”

“Like Daddy?”

“Yeah,” I say. “Like Daddy.”

“Okay,” he says, still a little resistant, but walks with me upstairs.

I tuck him into bed, brushing his dark blonde hair back. I had that color hair too when I was his age, but once I was around the age of 8 it turned darker, and now I have medium/dark brown hair.

“Goodnight. Jack Jack,” I say softly, pulling the covers up around his body.

“Goodnight, Jade,” he looks up at me with a sleepy smile. “Love you.”

“I love you too. Sleep tight, bubba.”

I turn off his light and leave the door cracked just a bit, the way he always requests. Then, I head back downstairs to see Dr. Reid on the couch.

“So you’re the new nanny, huh?” I chuckle softly as I go to sit down on the chair adjacent from the couch. I kick my feet up on the coffee table. “Just needed more money out of Hotch.” I tease him. I use my dad’s nickname because that’s what they know him as.

“Actually, your dad isn’t paying me,” he informs me.

“Damn. When did he get cheap?”

He makes a slight chuckling sound. “He offered, but I told him he didn’t need to.”

“So you’re taking care of the little demon for free? Bad move, Dr. Reid,” I laugh softly.

“Jack’s not a demon.”

“Eh, he has his moments,” I shrug. “Usually he’s good, but God, you should’ve seen him during his terrible twos.”

The genius laughs at that. “I remember the stories.”

I mess with the him of my black dress, twiddling the fabric between my fingers. I’m quite glad to be wearing the least provocative of my dress options tonight since Dr. Reid is here. I’m not dressed like a hooker like I sometimes do for parties. The black dress I’m in is flowy and hits me mid thigh. The neckline isn’t too revealing, but the criss cross detailing is flattering.

“You’re different than the last time I saw you,” Dr. Reid’s voice breaks the silence.

“Well, I’d hope so. I was 17 and still in braces.”

He laughs softly. “They weren’t that bad.”

“Tell that to the senior photos ruined by the bright blue metal in my teeth,” I say. “Which by the way, were not even my school colors.”

“Hotch still has that picture hanging in his office. I don’t think the color’s that bad.”

“Thanks,” I chuckle. “You look different the last time I saw you too. You’re less teenage boy looking.”

“Thank you?” He breaths out a laugh, question in his voice. “24 year old me thanks you for the insult too.”

“No! I didn’t mean it as an insult,” I laugh, shaking my head. “I just mean you looked so young back then, and now you…”

“I?”

“Now you don’t. You look more matured.”

“Thank you, then. You do too,” Dr. Reid tells me, and a part of me feels a little fuzzy inside.

I had a huge ass crush on this man during the time we’re discussing. But I was 17, underage and a little awkward. I was nerdy and unsure of myself. I was still witty of course, I’ll always be witty, but I didn’t hold myself well. I’d like to think that’s changed.

Anyway, I thought I was absolutely in love with this man. He was so smart, and adorably handsome, and he’d talk to me instead of ignore me like most adults do to teens. Every time I went to Dad’s office or he hosted the team at our house, Spencer Reid would tell me interesting facts and win over my affection more each time. But of course, I was a kid and knew nothing of love since I’d never been in a relationship. I was infatuated with him, not in love.

I never told anyone about my crush, not even CeCe. I was embarrassed because I knew he was too old for me and would never see me as anything but Hotch’s daughter. Mom figured it out though. I know this because she made a few comments about how it was okay to crush on someone older, but I wasn’t allowed to do anything about it or make the poor guy uncomfortable. Of course, I didn’t. She never told Dad, thank God.

My crush finally went away when I went off to college and wasn’t around him anymore. He still showed up in my mind uninvited at times, but it was more memories than feelings.

Now, he’s changed. His features are grown into, and his body has gotten stronger… and his hair.

“Your hair’s even changed since the last time I saw a picture of you,” I say. “It’s a lot shorter. Looks like you joined a boy band.”

He presses his lips in a line. I see he hasn’t lost that habit. “You know, that’s what your father said.”

I chuckle, moving my hair out of my face with my pointer finger.

“So how’s college going? You’re at NYU, right?” He asks me.

I don’t know why he’s asking me since he has an eidetic memory, probably just for the sake of small talk. “Yeah, I am. It’s been good. I’m at the end of senior year, but it’s not like I’m leaving anyway. I’m going to grad school.”

“Really? What for?” He asks. His voice seems interested, and that makes me a little happy.

“Law.”

“You’re just like your dad, huh?”

“Hey, ouch,” I hit my own chest dramatically.

“That wasn’t an insult!” Dr. Reid chuckles, shaking his head at me.

“Feels like one. I’d like to think I’m not as serious or hardassy,” I say matter of factly.

“He is pretty serious,” Reid agrees.

“You can say hardassy. I won’t tell on you,” I tease.

“He’s a little bit of a hard ass, but I think that helps him at being the boss. He isn’t afraid to step on anyone’s toes to accomplish a goal.”

“You’re too nice, Dr. Reid. I would’ve stopped that sentence after ‘ass’.”

He laughs at my words once again. “Noted.”

“So how’s the BAU? Dad hasn’t told me anything interesting lately.”

“I guess there’s really not much to tell,” he says. “We’ve had some pretty interesting cases I will say.”

“Like?” I ask curiously. I’m used to my father telling me about some of the cases they have. He spares me the gory details of course.

“Well, we had one unsub who turned petite women into life sized dolls.”

“Oh my God, for real?”

“Yeah,” he nods. “Her story was actually really sad. She’s in a mental health facility now. I hope she can get better, but her brain won’t recover after what she’s been through.”

“Damn. That’s awful. Did the women make it?”

“Yeah a few of them.”

“That’s good,” I say gently. “That must’ve been a pretty horrify sight.”

“It was. Some of the unsubs we have… they do thing unimaginable. Just when we think we’ve seen everything, we get hit with brutal reality,” Spencer explains.

“Wow…”

“Anyway,” he clears his throat. “I’m sure you’re pretty excited for summer break?”

“I am, yeah, but honestly,” I breathe softly, “I prefer to be at school most of the time. It’s not that I don’t like being at home, but it can be too much sometimes. Especially when Dad’s gone, but even when he’s here I can tell that I remind him of Mom. And being with the two of them without her is hard.”

Dr. Reid looks down at his hands. “I can’t even imagine. I’m so sorry.”

“Please, I’m not asking for sympathy,” I say gently. “I’m not even sure why I just dumped all of that on you.” I let out a breath, chuckling with no humor.

“Don’t worry about. I’m all ears.”

“Thank you, Dr. Reid.”

He makes a slight chuckling sound. “You don’t have to call me that. We’re not working, and you’re not a kid anymore… you can call me Spencer.” He says the second sentence a little hesitantly.

“Right. Spencer,” I say and enjoy the way his name rolls of my tongue.

Spencer smiles softly.

“How’s the team doing? It’s been so long since I’ve seen any of you. I know Elle left, and you guys have Agent Prentiss.” I say.

He furrows his eyebrows and nods. “Yeah. She’s great. Everyone’s good. Agent Rossi is back which is an honor. We’re all still a family.” I can tell he misses those who are gone.

“I always did admire how tight knit you guys are,” I tell him. “Especially you and Morgan.”

Spencer laughs softly, nodding. “He’s a pain in my ass, but he’s like my brother.”

That’s the first time I’ve ever heard Dr. Reid say a curse word except for when I practically told him to earlier. I laugh softly as well. “I can understand that, especially since I have a brother.”

“At least yours is cute and doesn’t tease you 24/7,” Spencer says, rolling his eyes.

“I suppose that’s true. But you’d be surprised, one time this kid roasted me for not having a boyfriend. He was 3!”

Spencer lets out a soft laugh then gives me a confused look, eyebrows furrowed. “Roasted?”

“Oh right,” I chuckle. “You’re a grandpa, so you don’t know young people lingo.”

“I’m 28!” His voice is offended and higher pitched than usual.

This makes me laugh. “28 in body, 88 in mind and soul.”

“Should I be offended?” He cocks an eyebrow.

“Not at all,” I shake my head. “It’s refreshing to not be around college aged pricks who act like they’re 16.”

“Oh I remember those days, except I was around that age and they were yours,” he says with a slightly annoyed voice.

“Sometimes I forget just how smart you are,” I tell him. “It’s a little intimidating.”

“Really?”

“Mhm,” I nod. “But I’m sure you get that all the time, genius.”

He shakes his head, but I know he’s just being modest. “You’re smart too. Hotch loves to brag about you, but I already knew you were.”

My cheeks flush a soft pink shade. “If you’re trying to butter up your boss’s daughter, it won’t work. I’m not telling my father to give you a raise.”

Spencer laughs. “No, I’m serious, Jade. Not everyone can go to law school. Me included.”

“You could quite literally do anything, doc,” I tell him with a slight scoff.

“I’m being honest. I can get a little attached to cases at times, and locking up criminals seems a lot better than defending them.”

I nod in understanding. “I get that completely. Which is why I plan to represent victims and families. I want to bring justice to those who deserve it and leave the dealing with criminals to you guys.”

“I think that’s a pretty good idea,” he says.

“Me too. I don’t think I could defend people like the unsubs you deal with. I’ve heard too many things and even dealt with the actions first hand,” I sigh softly.

Spencer’s facial expressions change. He frowns slightly and gives me an awkward look. “I understand.”

I nod. “Well, anyway…”

“It’s pretty late, we should probably go to bed,” Spencer says then rephrases his sentence not for the first time this night. “I mean, we should both go to sleep.”

I laugh softly and his cheeks turn pink. “You’re right.” I stand up from my spot on the chair.

“Well, I’m in my bed for the week,” he pats the couch.

“Sounds comfortable,” I chuckle.

“It’s not too bad. I’m just a little too long.”

“I can get you some blankets?”

“Hotch has me covered,” he says with a soft grin and points to the blanket and pillow folded up on the coffee table.

“Well, goodnight, Dr. Reid.”

He raises his eyebrows up at me.

“Spencer. Goodnight, Spencer,” I correct myself and start my way to the staircase, smoothing down my dress.

“Goodnight, Jade.”

I shoot him a friendly smile from the steps and walk up the rest of them, making my way to my room. My room is across the hall from Dad’s and Jack’s who are right beside each other’s.

I open my door quietly as to not wake my brother up again. Sitting on the bed, a part of me is glad I don’t have to be staring at the contents of my childhood bedroom. Mom and Dad separated when I was already in college, so I moved into this room recently. When I would come back home from college, I would stay at both Mom’s house and Dad’s apartment. This room isn’t too personal, and I think that makes it better being here for spring break.

I donated most of my old bedroom decor and the rest is in storage. It’s relieving not having so many memories of my past and my mom to haunt me while I try to sleep at my dad’s.

It kind of sucks that he’s not even here to be with me while I’m home from school. He’s always working. Hopefully he’ll be home soon and we’ll still have time to hangout. That is if there isn’t another stupid case demanding he pack up and leave the state.

My mind shifts from the topic of my dad to Spencer. Spencer Reid, the guy who consumed my mind every day of senior year is just down the stairs, about 100 feet away from my door.

17 year old me would’ve pissed her pants trying to talk to him that long, but 21 year old me held the conversation and didn’t drool over the poor guy.

If teenage me saw him now I think she’d pass out. He’s changed. He’s older, his body’s more matured, he’s more sure of himself, his hair… Jesus Christ his hair. I take a deep breath, almost laughing at myself. 17 year old Jade took over for a moment, letting this man consume my brain. It’s just weird to see him again, a good weird, but weird nonetheless.

—————

It’s weird to see her again- not a bad weird, but weird nonetheless. The last time I saw Hotch’s daughter, she was not even 18 and not yet grown into herself. She was shy, which was strange because her father is such an assertive and confident figure.

Jade was always quiet and reserved every time I saw her. Around the girls, she was more relaxed and talkative, but with the rest of us she wouldn’t make eye contact or go out of her way to talk. I guess it was just weird for her to be with the people who were sometimes around her father more than she was. I can understand that.

When she barged into the kitchen with a gun in her hand a commanding voice, I didn’t even recognize her at first. She definitely didn’t seem like that diffident teenager I knew before. Jade has grown up- I can tell that just from the conversation we had. We haven’t talked that long since we met. I don’t even think I’ve heard her speak that many words.

Not only has her personality changed, her body has too. I hate that I noticed it, but I did. I never really paid much attention to her, especially not in that way since she was a teenager. She was my boss’s daughter. That’s all she was. And that’s still what she is, but she’s also nice to talk to, she’s more mature. I suppose she was never immature.

I wasn’t expecting Jade to be here, let alone come in past midnight in a pretty dress. Anyway, this may make babysitting Jack a little strange, but then again I’m sure she’ll be busy with friends and hardly be home. I’m kind of hoping that’s the case, but I can’t quite figure out why.

I pull the blanket up over my shoulders and close my eyes. I haven’t had much time to catch up on sleep since the team got back from a fairly long case two days ago. As tired as I am, I’m happy to babysit Jack this week. He’s a sweet kid, and he loves my magic tricks.

My eyelids grow heavier each second, and I’m finally overtaken by sleep. The last image my brain conjures up before I’m unconscious confuses me, but I’d like to think it’s just because she is fresh on my mind.

three

tags: @pauline5525mgg @theintimatewriter @lilibet261 @greysviolets @jazzymariexoxoc @one-sweet-gubler @thatsonezesty13 @necromaniackat @awhoreforspencerreid @sebs-oxygen @crynroom @scarredelirium @reid1nspiration @bts-sugaplum @awesomeness1679 @preciousbabypeter @yazzyu @cynbx <3

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[ofstoriesandstardust]

second chance pt. i (lt. bradley “rooster” bradshaw)

a/n: i’ve been feeling nostalgic lately as i start my senior year of college in a few weeks, so i’ve been re-watching girl meets world, you know, as one does. and upon watching the episode “the forgiveness project” i got to thinking. i am dying to hear what everyone’s thoughts on this after seeing everyone lose their minds of the teaser. 

summary: An unexpected guest at a Navy gala shakes the foundation of Rebel’s whole world. What happens after will alter the course of her life. 

title comes from hsmtmts’s “second chance” and this was originally inspired by “the forgiveness project” episode of girl meets world

pt. ii | pt. iii

part of same mistakes-verse

main masterlist | top gun: maverick masterlist

warnings: swearing, unexpected pregnancies, one night stands, cheating, top gun and top gun: maverick canon deaths, aftermath of a parent leaving, an undefined amount of time has passed since chasing stars but it’s not explicit, i was going to write this as an you want to hate her but can’t but then i decided say actually she IS the villain, does the Navy have galas? i don’t know but they do now

word count: 4,518

"i’ve got a second chance to fly/i’ve got a second chance to fall/what can make the tide turn?/what can make the fire burn?/a second chance is all”

“Holy shit.” 

You glance up to see Rooster frozen in the middle of his bedroom doorway as he takes you in. “Hey, I’m just about ready, I just need to finish putting on my shoes.” He nods, lips parted, but doesn’t say anything more. After finishing the last clasp, you stand up, letting the dress that had been bunched up in your hand fall to the floor. He’s still staring at you, an unreadable look on his face. “Hey, you good?”

He nods, swallowing. “Yeah, I’m just- You look good.” You blush, allowing your arms to wrap around his chest. 

“Oh you know, I pulled a little something something together.” He nods, his eyes wide. 

“Yeah, yeah, I can see that.” You smirk at him. 

“Did I make you speechless Bradshaw?” He nods once more, his hands finding their home on your waist. You take a half step back, straightening out the collar of his dress blues. “Well, you don’t look half bad yourself.” One of his hands makes it up to your face, cradling it softly. 

“I love you.” He whispers and you smile, leaning in, taking his chin with own of your own. 

“Well Bradshaw, you’re one lucky man because I love you too.” You whisper as you lean in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. He pulls away, but doesn’t go far, his hazel eyes twinkling. 

“I do consider myself a very lucky man. A very lucky man indeed.” Your smile doesn’t break as you place a chaste kiss to his lips. 

“C’mon, we’re going be late.”

-

“I hate Navy events.” You mutter as your best friend snickers at you. “My feet hurt like a bitch.” You hiss, bouncing on the balls of your feet as the two of you stand at the bar, waiting for your drinks. 

“Yeah, but Bradshaw’s been looking at you like you hung the moon and stars for him all night darling. You got that man in the palm of your hand.” He says as the bartender sets the drinks in front of you. 

“Oh please. Jake hasn’t taken his eyes off you once tonight.” 

“Touche, Rebel.” He says, clinking your drink with his. 

“Coyote! Rebel!” You both turn to see Leapfrog and you freeze, half thinking Shadow’s going to walk up to you out of nowhere, despite his dishonorable discharge almost two years ago. Coyote’s quicker than you though and sets his drink down to shake Leapfrog’s hand. 

“Admiral Thomas, it’s good to see you sir.” He shakes his hand, giving you both a sincere smile. 

“Leapfrog.” You say, bowing your head, offering him a small smile. 

“It’s good to see you both. How are you both doing?” 

“We’re good.” Coyote answers for you, because your heart is still racing from the sudden shock and flash of panic that had ripped through you. 

“Honey?” Someone calls and he turns. A stunning women approaches him and you straighten up. You know her. 

“Natalie, darling.” He says warmly as it feels like ice settles in your stomach. The woman takes his arm, turning to face you and Coyote. “Natalie, this is Rebel and Coyote. They both served under my instruction for a few years and they are some of the finest pilots I have ever had the privilege of teaching.” Coyote nods his head in greeting as you swallow, nausea crawling up your throat. “Kids, this my wife Natalie.” 

“It’s nice to meet you.” Coyote says. Coyote glances at you when you don’t say anything, but your head feels like it’s filled with water.

You’d recognize her anywhere. Her striking beauty, her twinkling eyes, the bright smile your Dad said you’d always inherited from her. You’d recognize her anywhere, even without the Polaroid pictures Dad had hidden the hangar (ones he didn’t know you had found).

You swallow, not daring to meet her eye. “Hi Mom.”

You feel Coyote startle, his hand brushing yours. You finally look up, taking in Leapfrog’s unphased look, and the warm smiling she’s sending you. “Hi honey.” You try not visibly flinch at the nickname that is usually reserved for Rooster, and on occasion, your Dad. “I was hoping you’d be here tonight.” Why? you want to scream at her.

You don’t say anything as Coyote watches you carefully. “So, uh, are the two of you,” a teasing smile appears on her face, one much too comfortable for what was happening, “dating?” That’s the first thing she has to say to you?

You shake your head, taking Coyote’s hand, squeezing it. “No, this is Lieutenant Javy “Coyote” Machado. He’s been my wingman for four, almost five years now. He’s my best friend and the best person I know. He’s my Goose.” She nods, the familiar sparkle in her eyes. 

“I’m glad the two of you have each other. How is Goose these days? Carole?” You swallow, noticing the way Coyote’s grip on your hand become tighter, keeping you upright. 

“Um, Goose died years ago. Training accident.” Her face falls. “Carole died of cancer when I was 16. But you wouldn’t know about any of that because you left.” If the statement phases her, she doesn’t show it. She doesn’t say anything for a moment, just silently observing you. 

“Listen, (Y/N) I-” Coyote clears his throat, interrupting her sentence. 

“Well Naomi-”

“Natalie.” She corrects and he narrows his eyes.

“Whatever. It’s been really nice to meet you but we better be getting back to our squadron.” He says curtly, hand never leaving yours as the two of you move away, drinks long forgotten, towards the corner where your group is stationed, talking and sharing stories, making the most of the often-boring and uneventful Navy events. Well, this one would certainly be a change. You arrive at the edge of the group and Hangman looks up at you. 

“Starting to think the two of you ran off to start a new life.” He jokes but his teasing smirk falls when Coyote doesn’t respond, simply looking at you. “What? What happened?” You place on your hands on the back of his chair, clutching it as you try to steady yourself. Rooster catches this first and stands up from his seat, moving closer towards you. 

“Hey, are you-”

“My Mom’s here.” You blurt out, causing Rooster to freeze as your Dad’s eyes go wide. You feel the tears prick at your eyes and you squeeze them shut. “I can’t be here.” You whisper, squeezing past Yale and Harvard and towards the big wooden doors of the ballroom. 

-

When he finds her, she’s standing out in the hallway, looking out at the stars through the large windows. 

“Natalie, what the hell are you doing here?” He seethes out. She whirls and takes him in. 

“Pete. Hi. How’re you?” 

“Pretty pissed you’ve shown up and upset my kid.”

“She’s my kid too.” She says firmly and fuck if that doesn’t light a fire within him-

“The hell she is.” He hisses but she stands unwavering. He sighs, straightening up. “What’s your end goal here Natalie? Why the hell are you here?” 

“I’m married to one of the Admirals-”

“Yeah, Richard Thomas. I’ve heard.” She sighs again.

“I want a relationship with my daughter Pete. I’ve- I’ve finally found a stable job, I’m married, and I want a second chance. Richard knows everything and he supports this. You’ve done a great job with her from what I’ve heard but I want a chance to fill in where I wasn’t before.” He has to suck in a deep breath through his teeth, counting backwards from ten before he responds. 

“You don’t get it, do you? You left. And-”

“Well it’s not like you gave me much reason to stay Pete.” He stares at her. 

“We had a fight and then you walked out. And you never came back. And I spent years fearing the day you’d show up and demand custody of her. Show back up and take her away from me. I was even more worried she’d one day decide I failed her and leave too. And you know what Natalie, fine, by all means, leave me. Lord knows I deserve it. But don’t leave our kid in the dust. She grew up without a Mom because of you. Don’t do this to her now.” She doesn’t say anything, just quietly observes him as he feels his chest rise and fall, the anger ever simmering. 

“We were kids ourselves, Pete. I would’ve done more damage if I had stayed. I couldn’t give her what she needed. We were at each other’s throats all the time and she needed the more solid one of us. You had Nick and Carole and I- I couldn’t be what either of you needed me to be.” She pauses. “I am sorry to hear about Nick by the way. I know how much you cared for him.”

“Don’t be, he never liked you anyways.” He spits. He runs a hand through his hair as he tries to sort through what he wants to say. “You’re right, we were kids Natalie. But fuck if she isn’t the best thing to ever happen to me. I stepped up and you left. She’s my pride and joy and everyday I am grateful we had her because she is the reason I kept going when I had no other reason to. You’re not gonna show up, not now, after all this time, and want back in on a kid you walked out on. If you cared an ounce for her, you wouldn’t be so selfish as to ask this of her.”

“She gets to make that choice for herself Pete.”

“She doesn’t need to. I’m not going to put her in a position where she ever has to. Stay the hell away from her.” 

-

The door of the bathroom opens and from your seat on the bathroom floor, back pressed up against the wall of the stall, you see the black dress shoes stop in front of your stall. Whoever they belong to sighs and slides down on the post separating this stall from the next one. 

“This is the girl’s bathroom, you can’t be in here.” They chuckle. 

“Yeah, I know. You see, I’m looking for my best friend. Her Mom, who took off when she was 2, showed up out of nowhere tonight and she was pretty upset. I wanted to check on her. You wouldn’t happen to see anybody like that come in here or anything would you?”

“Nope, not a clue.” You mutter. 

He sighs, kicking his legs out. “Well, let me know if you do okay? Cause she’s one hell of a girl. I mean just incredibly brilliant, and a downright badass. A fucking amazing pilot. Funny too, and her and I even have matching tattoos. She’s the most rebellious, chaotic person I’ve ever known and she makes me all the better for it every day.” 

“She’s sounds pretty awesome.”

“She is. If you see her, let her know her best friend is looking for her, okay? He’s pretty worried about her.” 

“Will do.” There’s a few beats of silence before he sighing again. “You wanna come out now?” 

“Not particularly.” He sighs. 

“Well, will you at least let me in? Unlock the stall door.” 

“No.”

“Rebel, this isn’t first time I’ve seen you cry, and it won’t be the last. C’mon, you don’t gotta hide from me or put up a front.”

“I’m not crying. That’s the problem. I mean, I want to, I feel like I should but I’m just... numb.” 

“You want to talk about it?”

“What would I say?” He doesn’t say anything in response and after a few moments he sighs again and stands up. You feel your heart rate increase as you began to panic. “Don’t leave.” You whisper, so quietly you’re not sure he hears you. 

“Never. I’m not going anywhere.” He pauses. “But the floor’s gross.” You roll your eyes but decide to unlock the door anyways, letting it creakily swing open. 

“There you are.” He says, smiling and you huff, looking at the ceiling.

“Here I am.” 

“Hi.”

“Hey.” You say dryly.

“You want to get off the floor?”

“Not really.” 

He sighs, sticking his hands in his pockets. “You might want reconsider because you have approximately four more minutes until Rooster is coming in here.” You groan, and stick your hand out, making a face. He laughs taking it and helps pull you up. “Hey.” He whispers. “She can’t hurt you anymore. You’ve come too far to let her set you back.” You squeeze his hand. 

“I know.” You swallow. “It’s funny, I- I thought seeing her would- I don’t know, make me freak out, but other than being shocked, I guess I just- I guess I’ve just realized that I don’t know how I’ve spent my life running from what makes me happy all for the actions of a-”

“Ghost?”

You shake your head. “For a stranger.” 

He smiles at you, squeezing your hand one last time. “She can’t hurt you anymore.” You nod and the two of you leave the bathroom. You look around, immediately spotting where your boyfriend is anxiously leaned up against the wall. In the distance, you see the rest of the Iron Daggers and Bob waves to you when he spots you. You offer a small smile and wave back. 

“Hey.” He whispers, pulling you into a hug. “You okay?”

“Could be better.” 

“Let’s go home.” He says pressing a kiss to your temple. You open your mouth to agree when the clicking of heels on the floor cause the three of you to turn your heads. You’re met with the sight of Natalie. She stops in front of you all, giving you a smile. No one says anything and after a few minutes of awkward silence she clears her throat. 

“Do you think you two could give us a moment?” 

“No, whatever you have to say, can be said in front of them.” You state and she nods slowly, clearly not liking the answer. 

“Look, I just-”

“What do you want Mom? Why are you here?” 

“Because Richard is my husband and-”

“No, I’ve got that. Why are you here?” 

She sighs. “I wanted to let you know that I would like a relationship with you. I want a second chance. I wasn’t ready then, but I’m ready now.”

“No.” You say, shaking your head, already grabbing Rooster’s hand to move back to the Iron Daggers. 

“Honey-”

“The only person who can call me that is Bradley Bradshaw and since you are not him, don’t you dare.” She sighs and you bit your lip. 

“Please, let me have a second chance.” 

“Why did you leave?” You whisper. Your Dad appears at your shoulder and out of the corner of your eye, you see Rooster gently put a hand on his arm, silently telling him that you had it under control.

“Your Dad and I, we were so young, we were just kids. Our relationship was never meant to go beyond a one-night stand, even just a fling and then suddenly I was pregnant. And I just wasn’t ready. For your Dad, you were like a happy little accident but for me-” 

“I was a mistake. Go ahead Mom, say it. I know what I was.”

“Kiddo, no.” Your Dad whispers. 

She ignores your statement, continuing on. “I wasn’t ready for the pressure or responsibility of raising a kid. Like I said, I wasn’t ready then but I am now.”

“Too little too late.” She huffs, clearly getting frustrated. 

“What would you have me do? Stay and be a shitty parent? It’s not like your Dad was exactly doing me favors after you were born.”

“The hell’s that supposed to mean?” Your Dad shot and she rolls her eyes. 

“Pete, you were sleeping with a new girl every night when I needed you. The word faithful had no place in our relationship.”

“Oh because you were so much better.” 

“Okay, hey, that’s enough. Believe me, I know. I know Dad wasn’t the greatest the first few years of my life. But Dad stayed. No matter how shitty of a parent he was at the beginning, he stayed. That’s the difference between you and him. How do you not see that?” She swallows. 

“From what I hear about you, your Dad did an amazing job with you and it shows everyday in the pilot and person you are. You didn’t need me to get in the way of that.”

“Bullshit. Bullshit. I love Dad but I needed a Mom. I needed you.” She looks taken aback and you decide to keep moving forward. “Look, I have a family.” You turn slightly to Coyote. “You already know Coyote. I don’t know what I’d do without him.” You turn to Rooster. “You remember little Bradley? Yeah, this is him. Handsome, I know. He’s my boyfriend and hopefully the person I’ll spend the rest of my life with if he doesn’t get sick of me.” You take a deep breath and step back, clutching onto your Dad’s arm. “And Dad, God, for better or for worse, everything I am is because of him.” He smiles down at you and squeezes the hand that’s on his arm. “I’m so glad that I get to call him my Dad. No matter the fact that he had nothing but scraps of a family he pieced together to offer me, he made sure I was safe and loved and happy. No matter what shit I threw at him, he was always there. They’re family. But you know who else is family?” You turn, pointing to your squadron. “Them. That’s Phoenix and Bob. There’s Fanboy and Payback, Hangman, Yale and Harvard, Omaha, Fritz, and Halo.” The group has noticed you’re looking and you wave. “Everyone say hi Iron Daggers.” You feel your Dad chuckle as everyone but your Mom waves to them. They wave back, the growing confusion evident on their faces. 

“They’re my best friends. We’re a little ragtag group, little rough around the edges. But they’re family and I love them dearly. And you know what separates them from you? They stayed. They will always stay, no matter what. And you know what, I’m not really in the business of looking for any more family members who have a history of leaving when things get hard.” You take a step back from her. 

“(Y/N), I-”

“Mom, tell me that leaving was your biggest mistake. Tell me that the day you left was your biggest regret and that you wished you could go back and change it. Tell me you never meant it. Please.” She shakes her head, eyes sparkling with tears. 

“I’m sorry.” You sigh, taking another step back from her.

“Goodbye Mom.” You whisper.

You turn, walking back towards your friends, Rooster and Coyote both by your side. You reach the group and the turn, making room so that you can properly join them. 

“I have to admit, you handled that a lot better than I would’ve.” Rooster says and you smile. 

“Did you make her wave at us?” Hangman asks, a smirk on his face. 

“I was making a point.” Phoenix barks out a laugh, shaking her head. 

“How are you doing?” Bob asks and you tilt your head. 

“Better than I thought I would be.” Rooster takes your hand and you look up at him. 

“Let’s go home. For real this time.” 

-

The kitchen is dark as you sit at the table, still in your dress, heels discarded somewhere in the living room. Rooster and Coyote are sitting opposite you, both looking at you with concern. 

“Rebel-” Coyote tries.

“I’m fine.”

“We should really talk about this.” Rooster says but you don’t look up at him. 

“I’m fine.” The kitchen door opens and it reveals your Dad whose blue top of his uniform has been discard, shoes kicked off. 

“Hey kids, why don’t you head out? It’s been a long night and I got it from here.” They both look at you hesitantly but when you don’t respond, they stand up. 

Coyote stands by the door as Rooster bends over, giving you a kiss and whispering “I love you.” They leave and you stand up as you hear the front door shut. 

“I’m going to bed.”

“Sit down.” He says gently and you do as he leans up against the doorframe. He doesn’t say anything, putting his hands in his pockets as you brain whirls, trying to process the night. 

“Hey Dad?” You whisper. 

“Yeah?” 

“How do- how do you know that you and Penny got it right this time? You guys have broken up so many times, how do- how do you know that this is the time?”

“I trust that our lives are finally in the right place.”

“And how do you trust that she won’t leave like Mom did?”

“Because she’s Penny Benjamin and if anybody does the leaving in this relationship, it’s me.” You don’t say anything as your Dad takes a few steps closer to you. “This isn’t about me and Penny though, is it?” You shake your head and your Dad sighs. “Kiddo, your Mom and I- we were explosive and fiery and we were always meant to crash and burn, whether you were here or not. I was busy trying to sleep with every pretty girl I saw-”

“Gross.” You say, giving a watery chuckle and he gives half a laugh. 

“And she was trying to sleep with every Navy pilot she found. And then she followed me out here for TOPGUN because she had to and it killed whatever relationship we had. One of us was always going to leave and she was just the one who managed to do it first. And kiddo everyday I’m glad it was me who stayed because I have gotten the privilege of being your Dad. I wouldn’t change it for the world because it’s always been you and me. Having you was never planned but I’m glad it happened because it, you, made me a better person. I’ve always got you, no matter what happens.” He takes a deep breath, taking another step closer to you. “Kiddo, look at me.” You finally look up at him. “You and Bradley are not me and your Mom.” 

“I didn’t-” He shakes his head. 

“The only people I’ve seen love each other as much as the two of you do was Goose and Carole. Whatever your Mom and I had- it wasn’t real and it most certainly wasn’t love. The love you have with Bradley is real and it’s true and it’s not going anywhere.” You let out a shaky breath, finally daring to speak the one question that’s been lingering in the back of your head since the day you got together with Bradley. 

“Do you- do you think there’s any way he’ll one day see what Mom saw? See whatever it was in me that wasn’t good enough and leave too?” Your words are no more than a small whisper as the tears you’ve fought down all night finally surface. 

“Sweetheart, it is not your fault she left, you understand me? There was nothing you could have done.” A sob escapes you as you stand up, colliding with your Dad’s chest. Your sobs echo through the kitchen as you break, your Dad holding you close. “I’ve always got you sweetheart, I’m not going anywhere.” 

-

You slam your car door and it catches his attention from where he’s sitting on the picnic table, overlooking the crashing waves. You wordlessly sit next to him as your wrap the leather jacket around you tighter, the ocean breeze passing through you. You wrap your hand in his and you scoot closer to him, setting your chin on his shoulder. 

“Mav know you leave?” You shake your head. “Ah, so it’s like high school all over again, you little rebel.” You roll your eyes. 

“Oh please, you were the troublemaker in high school.” He chuckles and nudges your shoulder with his own. 

“You’re right, you’re right.” He concedes. A silence falls between the two of you as you look out over the water. “How are you feeling about everything?” You shrug and swallow. “You know what she was wrong, yeah? She had no right to show up like this, to ruin your night and want back in.” You take a shaky breath. 

“Yeah, I know, but I guess... in a way, I’m glad she did. Got me thinking about a lot of things. About what I want and what I’m going to do moving forward.”

“Yeah?” He ask, eyes watching you carefully. You nod. 

“For the longest time, I thought that what she did was because of me. That her leaving was somehow my fault and I was so afraid that everyone else would see what she did and leave and I- I’ve finally realized that it was never my fault. I’ve gone so long thinking that the person I needed to learn how to forgive was her, but- but the person I needed to forgive was myself.” He squeezes your hand, pressing a soft kiss to the side of your head. “I don’t know, seeing her, her life together and happy, it made me wonder why I couldn’t have that for myself. It made me realize that constantly sabotaging myself was going to get me nowhere, just drive my family away.”

“I will never leave.” He whispers. You nod, scooting ever impossibly closer to him.

“I know. Do you remember how when we got called back to TOPGUN, that night on the beach, how I told you that I thought we were doomed to always make the same mistakes?”

He nods. “Of course I do, that was the night we got together.” 

“For whatever reason, the universe gave us a second chance. And I’ve spent so long waiting for the other shoe to drop. For us to make those same mistakes. But we haven’t and I- I’m not going waste our second chance. I’m not going to throw it away.” You squeeze his hand. “This, us, I- I have never been more sure of anything in my entire life.” His eyes are sparkling with unshed tears as he moves a hand to grasp your face. “I love you.” You whisper. “Thank you for loving me.” He nods, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. 

“I love you honey. I will love you for the rest of my life.” He whispers. His eyes search your face and he swallows. “Fuck- I- I was gonna do this differently- had it all planned out- but I- I have to ask. Now’s the right time.” You tilt your head in confusion. 

“What are you talking about?” You whisper. He takes a shaky breath, hands leaving your face to take your hands.

“Will you marry me?”

#bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw imagines #rooster bradshaw imagines #bradley rooster bradshaw imagines #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw fic #bradley rooster bradshaw fics #rooster bradshaw imagine #rooster bradshaw fics #rooster bradshaw fic #top gun maverick #top gun maverick fics #same mistakes

[dyonoi]

I'm not sure if you even look at this blog anymore, but I just wanted to say I MISS YOU!! I still look through your old meta posts and art every few months and while I know you prob won't come back to the fandom, a part of me still hopes it! I guess I was curious to know how you're doing, and whether you've gotten into any other fandoms and ships? You were really fun and if there's something else you're into and writing for I would love to follow you into it!! <3

god this feels like the worst anime timeskip episode. hey there, its been a while. surprised theres people still around who remember. in the past 4??? years i guess ive done some shit, yeah. cliffnotes: finally closed the long distance and moved in with my SO, became a stoner, found the perfect physical art medium for me and have been busy becoming IG famous 💅 and actually making a living off it, and most importantly i have a cat now. he's a manx cat with a little bunny tail and he is so unlike any other cat ive interacted with. he has absolutely no style, no grace. he constantly trips over nothing. cannot jump higher than 2 feet, will gently catch bugs and then lets them fly away, is literally incapable of feeling anger (the sole exception is if you blow air on his feet. this makes him so angry so fast for whatever reason and its hilarious to witness) ive only heard him hiss twice in the past 4 years. anyway things could always be better but lifes pretty good.

as for other media ive gotten into? uh, the truth is i have a VERY muted relationship with media at this point. i dont run any secret fandom blogs. to be honest, i probably will never allow myself to become even nearly as entangled with a fandom ever again as much as i did with homestuck. for all the fun i had, i was WAY too active in it to the point where it was frankly unhealthy and being candid, it played a big role in me stagnating as a human being for a good year or two. the amount of opinionated bullshit i was spewing 24/7 for years predictably made me a target for people who disagreed and wanted to bring me down a peg, warranted or not, and as thick skinned as i am it did eventually start stressing me out and making me act like a loon. thankfully most of this was in private but it still happened, if you know you know. ive alluded to the reason why i got like that, but putting that much energy and faith into a single author to the extent i did is a recipe for ruin on multiple fronts.

hs was a painful lesson in that most shit just…sucks, and even if something starts out great, the chances that the author will stop giving a shit, fuck it up for the ending or even just straight up die is decently high lol and its something you should always have in the back of your mind. (guess which dumbass started reading berserk in late 2020) this was made way worse by hussie just… being an unrepentant fucking asshole. in hindsight this wasnt a shocking reveal but the hopium that theyd make it right in the end was too strong for all of us. i could have forgiven them losing interest as an artist due to general life hardships, but in the end they ditched it after pissing on it and then setting it on fire. so much of hs's success was on the back of fan media and when your finale in return is to salt the earth to the point where no one gives a fuck about it anymore, even the people who liked the tail end petered out pretty quickly too on that. just….eugh. i have permanent media trust issues.

even in the rare instances where something good ends up canon, even if the premise and buildup is great, the fandom surrounding it will pontificate a combined million hours and 9 times out of 10 will write them better than the author ever will. its sad in a way, but its the truth.

i still think davekat is great, once in a while ill look over my folder of it and my art and smile like an old lady looking over a dusty family photo album. the dynamic is rock solid, and if you agree my advice is to steal them. just steal them. call them doug and kevin and export them into your original story. they deserved better, and you will probably do a better job anyway.

media i AM interacting with (lightly) is one piece again. NONE of you bitches that read the entirety of homestuck have any room to complain about how long it is. i have a lot of problems with it (read: sanji) but in general its pretty fun and enough to sink your teeth into. sidenote i have been shipping luffy/zoro since two thousand fucking six and its a testament to my unending great taste that it was and still is an excellent ship. though i have a curse of somehow always ending up in fandom c-tier ships in terms of popularity like that LOL i got memed into watching bnha (DONT LAUGH) and my ship of choice, todobaku? an absolutely hilarious dynamic and a total banger. but yet another c-tier. after being spoiled with davekat content domination for years this sucks haha

[saltygilmores]

Thoughts While Watching Gilmore Girls Season 2, Episode 15, "Lost And Found", Aka The Bracelet Has Breached Containment, Aka BraceletGate, Aka QuarterOnAStringGate, Part 5

We last left off in the eye of the storm...things are seemingly calm after Lorelai left work in the middle of the day to help Luke look for a new apartment, but of course, this being Mid-Season 2, shit's about to hit the fan as it often does in the last 10 minutes of these episodes. (You can find parts 1-4 and all other episodes in my pinned post). Lorelai thinks she has Luke Danes all figured out. LG: You'll meet someone one day. Probably at a Timberland (boots/ flannell/outdoor clothing) store. You'll ask her out, you'll pick her up, take her on a "patented Luke Danes' night of romance". Juice bar, batting cages, then you'll ask her back to your apartment... LD: I'll give you any amount of money if you stop talking. Allow me.

But Luke doesn't give her any money and she keeps going. "You'll lead her upstairs to the apartment door. You pause. Gaze into her eyes. The stage is set. Fate is waiting. You open the door. She sees your teeny tiny apartment. One room and no closet space and Jess' feet sticking up into the air, because you never did get rid of his dead body." (calling back to earlier in the episode where she said no one would notice for weeks if Jess died under a pile of fallen boxes). Why you gotta bring him into this. Leave his poor little feetsies alone. The feets are innocent.

I skipped past the end of A Tisket A Tasket and never took the time to #AdmireTheBaby in his white sockies so let's do that now.

Pictured: The Quarter on A String and veiny arms. He's wearing a shirt with his name on it. Where did he even find a patch that said Jess in Stars Hollow? Who sewed it on? Why are your arms so veiny? By the looks of that old fashioned phone Luke isn't getting internet in his apartment for at least another 10 years. Your watch is so chunky. Who's guitar is that? Can I borrow your hair tie? Why did your hair never look like this again? Me in Jess Mariano Overstimulation:

Okay, where were we?

“…Then, she sees it. The single bed. You know what they say, never ever date a guy who owns a single bed!” Lorelai’s not subtle Luke-Style rant about single beds evaporating Luke’s chances of getting laid any time in the next decade continues for another few moments, until Luke agrees to sign for the apartment just to shut her up and go home. Lorelai’s nagging wields such tremendous power.

Lorelai catches Jess emerging from Rory’s bedroom (Rory's not home, probably still stuck in the unfathomable hell that is watching movies at Dean's house). No doubt our boy here was up to something nefarious. They have a tense exchange of words which Jess eventually manages to okuh his way out of and go on his merry way.

#AdmireTheBaby

From Lorelai’s POV, I can readily admit that it might look suspicious. For once, Lorelai actually has a real reason to be sus and it’s not just her usual unfounded paranoia.

But because she just has to crank everything up to fucking 11, and she just can’t be *normal* about anything, ever, I will not be waving my Lorelai Gilmore Support Flag today. (Dean has one too. Yes, there will be maybe 3-4 occasions in the future where I side with Dean Forrester. Shudder).

Lorelai heavily side eyes Jess, then scans Rory’s room, as if she suspects Jess just got into the fat reserves of cash and valuables Rory keeps under her mattress. But she’s really just looking for a Quarter. Speaking of shady, suspicious characters, we then cut to Taylor intercepting Luke at the market, and find out that naturally, Taylor owns the apartment building where Luke wants to move.

In my horror spinoff titled: The Hollow: Jess Mariano's Revenge, who should snap and mow down Taylor Doose in cold blood first? Jess or Luke? First Taylor sabotages Luke's attempt at moving. He installs a traffic light in front of the diner without informing Luke first. He annexes the diner to build an ice cream parlor. And you best believe I'm definitely missing a few of them. Didn't he even try to open a competing breakfast service across the street or was that purely Kirk's doing? Taylor also has his slimy hands on the PTA, he committs censorship at the video rental store, and other ventures too numerous to remember.

Hallelujah for more glorious filler. Waste as much time as you possibly can, fellas.

Luke's gonna need some of that 75 cent Tylenol right about now.

WIth 10 properties + all the money he embezzles with the weekly festivals and "charity book sales" you would think he's so rich he could move out of Schitts Hollow (!!!), and like, retire to Florida or something, where he could live among his fellow Karens, measuring the heights of the blades of grass on their properties. Just leave everyone else alone. LD: What are you doing, buying up the town? TD: Well, not yet, but someday, who knows? That is truly ominous, but on my gritty Gilmores spinoff titled Schitt's Hollow, big coroprations are going to move in and flatten your 10 properties, including your market. Hello Walmart! (if during the course of production for Schitt's Hollow I can't afford to use the Walmart trademark, I'll just have a meteor flatten the town. Can't go wrong with meteors).

Cause Schitt's Hollow is filled with a bunch of spineless jellyfish. You're our only hope, Luke Danes. LD: You can't tell people what color to paint their buildings. TD: Someone has to. LD: No they don't! We don't live in a fascist country! TD: The fascists had their faults, but their parks were spotless. Oh dear.

They really had Jackson run for office in this show when Luke Danes should be the Mayor (or Town Selectman, or whatever) of Schitt's Hollow. Not that he'd ever want that bullshit job. Can you imagine Luke leading one of the town meetings? DELIGHTFUL.

Oh hey I found Jess Mariano's stunt double on the left.

In that moment, Luke Danes saw God.

Oh no, he didn't just go there. He goes on to explain that even though he's aware Luke has a sentimental attachment to the sign, it will confuse tourists. He wistfully describes his dream of opening an additional property where he can sell collectible plates. All that stands in the way of Taylor Doose's quest for power is a decent human being trying to make a living named Luke Danes. There are no tourists in Stars Hollow. They're just people who took a wrong turn and got lost trying to find something more interesting in Connecticut. Like the Pez Museum.

How Luke Danes has not completely stroked out from the stress of living in Schitt's Hollow, merely halfway into the second season, is simply incredible. His eyeball should be popping out. There should be veins throbbing in his neck. He is remarkably calm. We should all strive to be this calm in the face of overwhelming bullshittery. Please teach me your ways.

Alright, that settles it, in my horror movie spinoff titled Schitt's Hollow: Jess Mariano's Revenge, we're gonna have an uncle-nephew killing spree contest. Whichever relation can mow down the most annoying townies by the end of the movie will reign victorious. TD: It's people like you who keep Schitt's Hollow from being one of America's greatest towns! Luke is .2 seconds away from going nuclear and Taylor finally tucks his tail between his legs and retreats as he throws Luke's apartment application in the trash, sadly ending this entertaining b-plot. This leaves me with another 7 minutes to watch the rotting meat that is BraceletGate.

Okay Jess, you are one helluva slow worker. That gutter is still stuffed to the brim with leaves. The fuck have you been doing all this time?

Going back to my point that every word Jess says is imbued with meaning. That "How thoughtful" was as loaded as the earlier "that's ambitious". I'll call it Gourmet Sarcasm. Rory explains how she wasted her day looking for the QOAS in every place she could think of. What happened to Butthead's Bargain? The one where Rory agreed to watch movies all afternoon with Dean, a sort of torture condemned by most human right commissions? After all that she still had time to look for the QOAS? Maybe Butthead was merciful and released her from her end of the bargain. Allow me to break down some RorySpeak for you. Jess: It was just a bracelet. Rory: He won't see it that way (I'm scared of Dean). Jess: Not like you lost it on purpose. Rory: He'll read something into this (I'm scared of Dean). Things have been weird between us lately (I'm scared of Dean), but you don't care. Not only does Rory expect Jess to have a vested interest in her relationship with her mother but also with DEAN? And she also expects him to feel guilty for not caring enough about these things...? Narrator: Deep in his heart, Jess Mariano did care.

#AdmireTheBaby JM (with a mischevious lilt in his voice): I think you should keep looking. Things you lose are usually right in front of your face. Check the house again. #HintHint

Narrator: Dean Forrester, would in fact, not get over it.

Rory comes into the house to meet Lorelai where they discuss how they've turned the house upside down and looked 1,000 times. Rory is elated to find the QOAS under her bed. After she declares her plans to "celebrate later", she runs off to tell Lane to stop praying for her. Oh sure, millions of children are dying every day, but for some reason God answered the prayers of Lane Kim in Bumblefuck Connecticut who asked him to help her friend find her shitty boyfriend's shittyquarterbracelet.

Lorelai's got that shit-eating grin on her face, the one she always puts on when she's pretending to be happy for Rory but actually she's quietly seething underneath the surface and when her daughter is out of sight she's going to unleash holy hell on someone.

Target acquired. Oh dear. I'm really going to have go into part SIX with 5 minutes left in the episode.

#gilmore girls #denise rewatches gilmore girls #anti lorelai gilmore #luke danes #jess mariano #milo ventimiglia #gilmore girls season 2 #lost and found

[cowjust]

Cluster truck

#CLUSTER TRUCK FREE#

To Hell and Back: The 9th, and final, level is in hell, there is no discernible reason to be going to hell, you just end up there.Time Stands Still: There is an ability that allows you to stop time, making all trucks and gravity stop.Steampunk: The 8th world in the game is literally just called "Steampunk World".Adding to this is the laser trucks option Twitch users can vote for, which would cause lasers to sprout out the behind of all trucks for a limited time. Slow Laser: The Laser World is, naturally, this trope personified.Slippy-Slidey Ice World: The 3rd is simply a winter based world with a large abundance of snow and ice within it.Shifting Sand Land: The 1st level of the game is just a desert with a lot of trucks in it.Satanic Archetype: The final boss is most accurately described as "Truck Satan".Ruins for Ruins' Sake: The 6th world, "Ancient", has you go through antique ruins of totally unknown origin.No Plot? No Problem!: There is no reason or story as to why you are hopping from truck to truck, you just are.Medieval European Fantasy: The fifth level is "Medieval", and has a lot of medieval traps, such as spikes and flamethrowers.Level Editor: Integrated with the Steam Workshop to easily share and browse custom maps.The devs can also join the chat to induce effects that normal viewers couldn't, including talking directly to the players in-game.The Twitch chat command "Mini-Max" also counts seeing as it makes you constantly jump, move forward at max speed, and use your ability all at the same time.One of the events the Twitch chat can start is "Inverted", which inverts your commands for a small period of time.Intentionally Awkward Title: Let's face it, the name is close to "Clusterfuck".

#CLUSTER TRUCK FREE#

Halloween Episode: There is a free DLC world themed after Halloween.Green Hill Zone: The second level is called "Forest World" but is closer to this than The Lost Woods due to a more plain like level with lots of trees and rocks.Grappling-Hook Pistol: One ability is a simple grappling hook.Final Boss: The final boss is just Truck Satan.These points are then used to buy new abilities. You earn them by doing "stylish" stunts, finishing a level quickly and/or on the first try. Experience Points: The "style points".One of the chat options when using the Twitch integration is "Lasertrucks", which gives each truck a laser beam at their rear.The game also features Twitch integration allowing many odd effects based on the chat's (And if they're feeling particularly sadistic, the devs themselves) whims. You can then spend these points to buy various abilities, such as a Double Jump or a Grappling-Hook Pistol, to finish earlier levels even more quickly or to make later levels easier to beat. After each level, you get rewarded with "style points", the amount of which depending on how fast you finished the level and on stunts you may have done. The game operates on a level to level base going through a total of 9 worlds, each one based on a unique setting, with 10 levels each. The game's basic idea is you are jumping from a multitude of trucks, in what you would loosely describe as a cluster, and that is basically it, just jump. It is available on PlayStation 4, Xbox One, Windows, Mac, and Linux. If you want to, that is up to you, but I felt that it was able to run through the game better without needing to make any changes.Clustertruck is a high speed platforming game in a First-Person perspective developed by Landfall Games and published by tinyBuild in 2016. I did not adjust the Sensitivity or Invert the X or Y-axis. Throughout the game, I kept the basic control scheme the game gave me. What I mean is if you do to look down and your feet and keep holding it, you are now rolling and everything will be upside down, and when you land (if you land), it will give you the Level Failed screen. Looking up, down, left, and right is great, but you could overlook. The second part of the controls comes in with the looking around. The best advice for trying to do this is to turn and look in the direction you want to run and go from there. The second part of this is moving left, right, and backwards is really slow, and really hard to execute in short times when needed. It isn't too high where you over jump every truck, but enough where you might land farther than anticipated. First off, when it comes to movement, your speed for going forward it at a really high pace.

#Cluster truck

[favefandomimagines]

Give Me A Reason to Stay (b.b.)

Summary: the battle is over, you can finally breathe. but will bucky give you a reason to stay with him in Louisiana? 

AN: inspired by the finale of tfaws! so potential spoilers and obvs i’m gonna include some angst (stark!reader)

You finally caught a moment to breathe after what felt like years of fighting. After so long of going from one disaster to the next, you could finally stop and pause. Actually enjoy life for once. 

Since your father died, you never stopped moving. Being CFO of Stark Industries, helping Wanda escape the authorities after her grief induced episode and then Sam and Bucky called you for help. It never seemed to stop. 

But, after Karli died and the rest of the Flag Smashers gone, you could take your well deserved pause. At least for a little while before your inherited work called. 

Sam invited you to come to his home town in Louisiana for a celebration of sorts and you couldn’t say no. Him telling you that Bucky was going to be there was also a selling point. 

You and Bucky had a complicated history. You helped Sam and Steve stop him and HYDRA and then went on the manhunt for him. Even after finding out he killed your grandparents, you were still there. You understood that it wasn’t Bucky’s mind, just his body. You were there in Wakanda and helped set him free from his trigger words. 

But nothing ever progressed from the stolen looks, the longing glances and the quick touches. The amount of times Bucky Barnes saved your life and threatened others who tried to hurt you, you thought he felt something for you. But the nagging feeling in the back of your head told you that you were wrong. 

At the celebration, the many neighborhood kids were gathered around you as you created stars in your hands, almost like your own personal galaxy. The kids thought it was magic and you rather liked that perspective on your powers. 

Bucky and Sam were talking with Sarah and some other neighbors but Bucky couldn’t focus on the conversation when he was too busy watching you. 

Your smile was so wide that he thought it could light up a city block. You looked genuinely happy, a look he hadn’t seen on you in a long time. It was refreshing and your happiness made him happy. 

“You’re being creepy.” Sam commented, nudging the super soldier. “What?” Bucky asked. “You’re staring.” Sam said. “I-I was not staring.” He stammered. “You so were. Just tell her how you feel already. I can assure you she feels the same way.” Sam told him. “I can’t just tell her.” Bucky rebutted. “Yes, yes you can. What are you afraid of?” Sam asked.

The 106 year-old man paused for a moment as he continued to stare at you. “I can’t be the one that causes her more pain.” He said. Sam furrowed his eyebrows at Bucky’s answer. “She’s been through too much already. Losing Natasha, watching her father die, the nightmares she has. I’m not back to myself yet and I can’t cause her anymore pain.” Bucky explained. 

The conversation was cut short when you approached the two men. “I’m so sorry, Sam. Pepper just called and said the donors are pulling out of the eco-friendly power source project we’re working on. She needs my help fixing it.” You told them. 

“Do you really have to go?” Sam asked. “Unfortunately. Pepper says she can do it on her own, she did it before I was old enough but since my name is still attached to the company, I have to go. Board meeting at 9 tomorrow.” You explained. “I’ll go grab Sarah, she’s going to insist on giving you leftovers to take.” Sam said, giving you a nice smile. 

You turned to Bucky who was very quiet since you walked over. “So, you’re really going back?” He asked you. “Yeah. Unless you give me a reason to stay.” You answered honestly. And rather boldly.

Bucky wanted to say something so bad. He wanted to tell you that he loved you and wanted you to stay with him there but the words didn’t come out. And if he was already feeling bad before, the look on your face broke his heart. 

You gave him a tight lipped smile, a small head nod before you walked away from him. He watched as you slapped a fake smile on, say goodbye to Sarah and Sam before leaving the party rather quickly. 

“What the happened with Y/N?” Sarah asked approaching Bucky. “Nothing. She just had to go.” Bucky lied. Sam saw right through it obviously. Something had happened between you and Bucky and he was determined to find out and play cupid. 

“What really happened?” Sam asked. “She asked me to give her a reason to stay. And I didn’t say anything.” Bucky answered. “Come on, man. You love her, she loves you. Y/N wouldn’t give you the time of day if she couldn’t handle your baggage. You need each other more than you want to admit, Buck.” Sam said.

Bucky sighed and cursed himself for letting you go. “Okay, what do I do?” He asked. “Go to New York. Pull a rom-com move and crash that board meeting and tell her that you love her.” Sam answered.

And Bucky did just that. He got on the first flight to New York and came up with a whole speech in his head for what he was going to say to you.

He made it at the nick of time and was surprised he still had security clearance to the building. When he arrived to the correct floor, he saw Pepper standing in the hallway.

“Bucky, I didn’t expect to see you here.” She said to him. “Where’s Y/N? I need to talk to her.” Bucky said. “She’s in the conference room, preparing for the meeting.” Pepper answered.

Bucky practically ran to the conference room and almost broke down the door.

“B-Bucky?” You questioned. “I love you, Y/N. You asked me to give you a reason to stay and I was scared. Scared that I’d cause you more pain and you don’t deserve that after what you’ve been through. But I can’t deny that I love you anymore.” Bucky confessed.

You were at a loss for words, not really expecting a love confession from Bucky Barnes. “You love me?” You questioned quietly. “Yes. I love you.” He said. “Come back to Louisiana with me. We can start over, have the life we both deserve. Or, I can come back here and you can still help Pepper run Stark Industries. I don’t care as long as I get a chance at a life with you.” Bucky added.

“You really mean that?” You asked. “I really do mean that.” He answered. He watched you intently as you processed everything Bucky had just told you.

You looked down at your presentation notes before you picked them up and folded the papers in half. “Friday, can you bring Pepper into the conference room please?” You asked the AI. “Of course, Ms. Stark.” It said.

You and Bucky waited in a tension filled silence when the door opened. “What’s going on?” Pepper asked. “I think it’s time I sign those papers.” You told her.

Pepper smiled widely at you, happy that you were choosing yourself over the company for once. “It’s about time.” She commented. “I’ll go get them drawn up.” She added before leaving the room.

“Wait what papers?” Bucky asked. “I’m giving every aspect of the company to Pepper. I’ll no longer be listed as an executive for Stark Industries. Which means, I can go anywhere I want for as long as I want.” You explained.

“You mean-“ Bucky started. “I’m going to Louisiana with you. For however long you’ll have me.” You interjected. Bucky laughed lightly as he made his way over to you, cupped your face in his hands and kissed you deeply.

It was a feeling you both had been waiting for and it was one that was definitely worth the wait. You had been putting off your personal life out of fear it wouldn’t work but now you just wanted to be with each other. No matter what happens down the line.

“And if it wasn’t obvious, I love you too.” You said once you parted. “I’d hope so, doll.” Bucky replied.

—

You and Bucky approached the large gathering of people with food in your hands, saying your hellos and giving out hugs and handshakes.

“There you two are! I was wondering if you’d ever show!” Sam scolded you two. “What do you expect? We’re newlyweds.” You laughed. “And it’s about damn time it happened too.” Sarah commented.

You sat down at the picnic table, Bucky resting his flesh hand on your thigh. You stared down at the ring on your finger quite fondly and thought of your dad. Hoping he’d be proud of letting the company go three years ago and living your life to its fullest.

“Aunt Y/N! Can we see the stars again?” Cass asked with all of his friends behind him. “Can’t say no to a future leading astronomer now can I?” You teased the boy. You got up from the table and stood a few feet away, creating the stars with your hands like you had years prior.

Again, Bucky watched you fondly but this time he wasn’t pining after you, hoping he’d build the courage to tell you how he felt. He was watching you as his wife and as his future.

“You really do love her, don’t you?” Sam asked. “Yeah. I really do.” Bucky answered, a smile adorning his face. “You’re going to be amazing parents.” Sarah added. “Parents?” Bucky questioned. “Oh no she hasn’t told you yet.” Sarah said, standing up from the table.

“Is Y/N,” Bucky started. “Am I what?” You asked. Bucky turned to you and rose from his seat so he could stand eye to eye with you. “Are you pregnant?” He asked.

You looked behind him and glared at Sarah before staring back at Bucky. “Yeah, yeah I am. You’re gonna be dad James Bucky Barnes.” You told him with a watery smile.

Just the thought of bringing a child into the world with Bucky made you more emotional than you thought possible.

“I’m gonna be a dad?” Bucky questioned. You nodded your head and Bucky scooped you up in his arms and if felt like everything was falling into place.

After 109 years of not having an ounce of peace or feeling as if he was a monster and a burden, he was getting the life he had always dreamed of. And he got to do it all with you.

#imagine #imagines #marvel imagine #marvel #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan #tony stark #sam wilson

[unfoundhoney]

toe the line ; part three ↠

↠ slimecicle x fem!reader ; angst , the fluff will get here eventually i promise

↠ masterlist

↠ part one ; part two ; part three ; part four

↠ @ochabby @kiritokunuwu @pyrotechnics84 @nottheotheruser @d0vesatdawn @ashturnedtomist @bloopi @enderhoe @plaguenecromancer @prickypearpropaganda @phantom-aurora @starswspacey

It’s funny how true the saying “you never miss something until it’s gone” is. If Charlie had to describe how the last two weeks have been, it’d be like that. He didn’t think it was humanly possible to miss someone so much, to actually have every second of every day be taken up by the thought of you. He’d been trying to work but with a blatant lack of you, he hadn’t been able to focus and decided to take a walk to clear his head.

It wasn’t helping.

A man walks past with a big, floofy, white dog on a leash. You would stop to ask to pet it. You always loved dogs and Charlie has no doubt in his mind that if your apartment building allowed pets, there’d be at least one living with you and him.

There’s a bookstore on the corner of a street. You would poke your head in, look around for a while and buy some novel by an author you’d never heard of. It’d probably lay unopened for a couple months until you suddenly remembered it one day and binged it in under three days.

A street musician plays across the street in a park, improving on his saxophone over a jazzy backing track. You would insist on staying to listen, waiting until he finished this song, applauding, and giving him ten dollars or so. Charlie stuffs his hands a little deeper in his pockets and keeps walking.

What was supposed to be a head-clearing (and distracting) walk has turned into the exact opposite. Charlie knows he won’t be getting any more work done today.

It starts to rain as he walks but he doesn’t head back, instead walking farther and into a different park. As it rains harder, he finds a bench to sit on. The cold and wet he finds himself submerged in distracts him better than anything else has been able to.

Water drips inside his collar and soon he finds himself soaked through. Still, he just sits there, staring straight ahead of him and focusing on the uncomfortable feeling of being fully clothed and completely wet.

He doesn’t know how long he sat there. Minutes. An hour. Two hours. But suddenly the rain stops. He’s no longer being showered with water droplets, even as the rain continues pouring all around him.

“Charlie? You okay, man?”

Charlie looks up and funnily enough, there’s Ted. He’s holding an umbrella over Charlie, looking down at him in concern. He realizes how bad this must look, sat in the rain looking dead inside.

“What’re you doing?” Ted asks slowly.

“Just... chilling.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“You good?”

“I’m doing great.” He gestures generally, tries to crack a joke. “Can’t you tell?”

Ted doesn’t smile. “Dude, seriously. Are you okay?”

Charlie swallows, smile fading. He wants so badly to say “yeah, I am” and be able to mean it. He’s the one who messed everything up; he doesn’t have a right to be feeling this bad with you gone when he was the one who chased you away. And yet here he is, sitting in the rain.

“No.”

“...let’s go back to your place.”

Ted walks Charlie back home, sharing his umbrella despite the fact that Charlie is already totally soaked. Ted doesn’t seem to mind too much when Charlie drips on him; he’s likely more worried about Charlie than his left side getting a little wet.

They get back to Charlie’s apartment and Charlie changes quickly into dry clothes before joining Ted in the living room. It’s painstakingly obvious when Ted unknowingly sits in your spot.

After several minutes of awkward silence and even more awkward attempts at small talk, Ted finally asks the question he’s been meaning to for two weeks.

“How’s um... How’s Y/N?” Ted tries tentatively.

“She’s okay. Sort of. I think.”

“You think?”

“She’s kind of been avoiding me. She’s been staying at Schlatt’s for the past eleven days.”

“She has?”

“I think she needed some space, but it’s been over a week now and I’m kind of deteriorating away in the silence of our apartment alone.”

“Have you tried talking to her about... it?”

“You mean her feelings for me that she’s had for years and I’ve never noticed and then accidentally outed in front of all our friends and neither of us are sure our relationship will recover because we don’t know how to act now that we’re both aware one of us wants more than platonic friendship?”

“...yes.”

“No, I haven’t.”

“It sounds really bad when you phrase it like you just did but there’s no way around this,” Ted says. “I know how much you two care about each other. You two would be miserable without each other.”

“We- We’d be... fine.”

“That was the most unconvincing thing I have ever heard in my entire life.”

“I-“

“Not to mention the fact that you are literally living proof that you are not fine without Y/N.”

“Doctor Ted PhD is making a reappearance,” Charlie weakly tries to joke.

“Charlie.”

Ted did just find Charlie having a rather severe episode of “main character syndrome,” so there’s really no arguing with him. He is not doing fine without you. It’s only going to get worse the longer he goes without trying to reassemble the shattered pieces of your friendship.

Charlie’s will finally gives way. “I don’t know what to do, man. I fucked up so bad and now I’m terrified I’m never going to be able to get back to where we were. Everywhere I go all I can think about is her and she just- I have never been happier than I am when I’m with her and I just-... I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to lose her.”

Charlie buries his head in his hands, heels of his palms digging into his eyes. He’s finally letting himself be distressed over the very real possibility of losing his best friend instead of ignoring the situation entirely.

Meanwhile, Ted is connecting some very obvious dots.

“She’s all you can think about?”

“Yeah, like, I’ll just be going to the store or something and it’s like ‘oh, she’d smell those flowers,’ ‘she’d drag me to try that restaurant,’ ‘she’d go to see that movie with me.’”

“And you’re happiest with her.”

“Yeah, man. I’ve had other friends, other best friends even, but no one compares to her and how she just gets me. You’ve seen it; we have this synergy that I have never gotten with anyone else.”

“And you are very worried about the possibility of losing her.”

“...yes. Are you just repeating what I’ve said?”

“Just waiting for you to figure it out.”

“Figure what out?”

Ted doesn’t respond, holding the silence patiently. Charlie continues to look at him, confused. The apartment is quiet, not quite in the unbearable way it is when he’s alone but it still doesn’t feel right without you here.

For eleven days, you haven’t sung in the shower. You haven’t made breakfast just how he likes it. You haven’t distracted him from work to show him a TikTok, not that he ever minded. You haven’t fallen asleep on movie night and he’d willingly carry you to bed if you asked him sleepily, kind of wishing you’d ask him to stay with you one night.

You would grab his hand and ask him to stay. He’d do so without hesitation. Curled together under the covers, you would be close and warm and intimate in a new but welcome way. He’d hold you tight, your breath soft against his neck.

Wait.

Charlie looks up in horror. “No.”

Ted narrowly stops the shit-eating grin from spreading across his face. “Yes.”

“No. No no no, shit.”

“I am so happy I get to be here for this.”

“Shut the fuck up, Ted,” Charlie cuts him off.

He’s angry. Not at Ted but at himself. He rushes over to the door, shoving his feet back into his still-wet shoes.

“I’ve fucked up so bad. Oh my god, this is all my fault.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“God, shut up, you are not helping.”

“Sorry, just telling it like it is.”

Charlie glares at Ted. “Show yourself out.”

Charlie takes off out of the apartment without an umbrella again, completely prepared to get another set of clothes completely soaked. He prays to whatever higher power may be listening that you have the ungodly amount of forgiveness that will be needed to forgive his stupidity.

#mcyt #mcyt x reader #dream smp #dsmp #minecraft youtubers #mcyt fanfic #mcyt fanfiction #dream smp x reader #mcyt imagine #slimecicle #charlie slimecicle x reader #slimecicle imagine #slimecicle x reader #slimecicle fanfiction #slimecicle fanfic #charlie slimecicle #charlie dalgleish #slimecicle oneshot

[flareish]

Anxiety

kuroo x reader

summary: you hide your anxiety from basically everyone including your boyfriend, until he finds out for himself

genre: hurt/comfort

warnings: Emetophobia Warning! description of nausea/vomit, anxiety, bit of angst but ends in fluff

word count: 2.0k

a/n: I tried to make this as close to my anxiety since I hadn’t known anyone with my kind of anxiety(symptom wise) until I was seventeen, which was a good ways into when I realized I had anxiety. So here is some nausea anxiety representation!

masterlist

You tap your fingers in a mindless rhythm. Alternating the fingers and repeating them back and forth, trying to make it a game, a challenge. You did this over and over again to distract yourself from that all too familiar sinking feeling. That feeling like your stomach has managed to twist and knot itself a million times. Each bump of the bus made acid crawl up your throat. You crunched a mint in your mouth hoping the peppermint would soothe some of the nausea. It didn’t, but the thought was there. You just will yourself not to throw up on the bus, anything but that. The thought in itself makes you even more nervous, and in turn even sicker.

You don’t even know why you are anxious. Today is Kuroo’s big game, but it isn’t yours. You’ve been to a hundred of his games before but never before did you feel like this. Normally you get cute little butterflies, not an angry swarm of bees. The worst part is, there is Kuroo sat next to you happy as can be, completely oblivious. He keeps trying to drag you into conversations but you fear if you open your mouth for too long, all that will come up is vomit. So you keep your mouth firmly closed only smiling tightly or shaking your head at his prompts.

It's not exactly his fault though. He doesn’t actually know you have anxiety. It’s not something you really like to talk about. You are all for promoting the acceptance of mental health but you just find every time you tell someone the dynamic changes. Either they flat out don’t believe you since you “don’t seem like the type with anxiety”. Well duh, I don’t have social anxiety, I have situational anxiety. Like here in this situation. That or they suddenly treat me like I am incapable of handling myself. That whenever a slightly stressful event comes up, I am going to melt into a puddle of pure anxiety. Sorry but I’ve made it this far, I may have to throw up a few times on the way but I am still making it. 

So you just haven’t told Kuroo. You're just nervous that it will change the dynamic. You also don’t want to steal his spotlight. Today is supposed to be all about him. It's his big game. To suddenly speak up and tell him that his game is giving you anxiety would be selfish. So like you always have, you put a brave face on and face it head-on.

“Hey, are you okay?” Kuroo asks you, now facing you, “You look a little pale.”

“Hmm?,” You also turn to look at him, “Oh I am just a bit tired that’s all. I will be fine in an hour or so.” You hope at least. He nods relieved it's not something worse. 

You finally pull into the stadium and everyone is pushing their way off the bus. Luckily Kuroo is right by you to make sure you don't get accidentally pushed down the bus stairs and trampled. The team makes it’s to the bulletin board where they are given their matchups. Nekoma is paired with a pretty hard team. Suddenly, out of nowhere, you dry heave. You knew at the point you were going to throw up and within the next few minutes. 

“Hey I think I left something in the bus I’ll be right back.” You say to Kuroo before dashing off. He goes to reply but you are already gone. 

You make it around the back of the building before you throw up. At this point you’re kinda out of it, your mind is occupied on emptying your already empty stomach. Then you feel someone pull your hair back and gently rub your back. You don’t even have to look up to know it’s Kuroo. When you finish he hands you his water bottle.  You waterfall it and rinse your mouth out of that acidic taste. 

“What’s going on are you okay?” Kuroo asks full of concern. You hesitate for a moment, thinking of telling the truth. Then you remember this is supposed to be his day. 

“Sorry I must have caught a stomach bug.” He doesn’t completely buy it so you quickly add to it.

“I didn't feel great on the bus but I just thought it was because I was tired.” You feel bad lying, “I also don’t want to distract you before your game.” At that Kuroo quickly pulls you into a hug, “Your not a distraction, I just want to make sure you’re okay.” Your cheek is pressed against his chest and your hands grip the front of his shirt. 

“We should probably head back.” You mumble.

“Yeah.” He leans down to kiss you but you duck away. He looks incredibly offended and hurt at this.

“Dude I just threw up I don’t know if you want to do that.” 

“…Point.”

The two of you head back inside to the team, you feeling much better after throwing up. Before you know it, the competition has begun and Nekoma has won. You run down and celebrate with the team and it’s a happy day.

On the bus ride home Kuroo has a strange energy about him. Not like he’s mad more just like he’s just realized something. You nudge him and smile hoping to break him out of his little funk. He immediately smiles back and goes back to celebrating with the team. His reaction was almost like putting a mask on. You watch him for a moment before slipping into a conversation of your own.

When you make it back to school you go your separate ways. Him going to shower, and you to get home before it gets too late. A big hug before pushing away. You still refusing to kiss him after throwing up earlier in the day. 

You are laying on your bed, exhausted. Anxiety really takes a toll on your energy. Your thoughts are broken when your phone chimes with a text.  Leaning over to grab your phone off your bedside table you see it is from Kuroo. 

“Can you come over? I want to talk.”

No cute pet names. No slowly easing into it. Actually using proper grammar. Nothing in that message was a good sign. Just “I want to talk” was enough to make the acid begin to crawl again. You knew it had to be about today. Especially after you saw him zoning out on the bus. It had to be your anxiety episode. You knew he wouldn’t be happy you lied but going to this extent. Like he just found out you have anxiety and this is what he hits you with? The world’s most nerve-wracking text message. The only worse place than this would be “we need to talk”. That’s when you have really screwed up. So maybe you’ve only minorly screwed up since he said want not need. Does that mean you have the choice to say no? That was kind of tempting but you knew you would be tossing and turning all night thinking about what might be wrong. 

“Okay.” You reply to the text. Short and sweet. Putting on some shoes and grabbing a hoodie, you quietly slip out of your house. Kuroo’s house wasn’t too far but it was far enough. Enough to continue to stir in your intrusive and unstoppable thoughts. You eventually make it to his house and head in going straight for his room. Before you reach the door you hesitate and gather yourself. Preparing for whatever was about to come. 

When you go in you find Kuroo sat on the floor of his bedroom, back pressed against the bed. He jerkily looks up and you and gives you a tight smile. None of this is giving good signs. Something is very heavy on his mind. You sit down across from him, your back against the wall your feet almost touching. 

“So what was it you wanting to talk about.” You break the silence. He doesn’t respond for a moment. Just as you are about to try again he speaks up.

“Do you still love me?” Your face drops into confusion.

“Why wouldn’t I love you anymore?” You ask, suddenly realizing this wasn’t the conversation you were prepping yourself for. 

“You’ve been distant lately. You don’t tell me things like when you don’t feel good. I thought about it when I got home and I was wondering if you weren’t actually sick but just making the excuse because you got caught.” He’s very serious at the moment and his words hold a cold edge. 

“What do you mean get caught?” You match his tone. You weren’t planning on fighting but something about how he said it just set something off in you.

“You didn’t want to be there. Ever since this morning you were quiet and reserved. Even after the game, you wouldn’t even kiss me-”

“Yeah, cause I threw up! And how could I be faking it when I literally threw up.” You snap.

“You’ve been like this before though! Like last year’s big tournament you would barely talk to me.”

“That’s not true!” Although it kind of was just not the reason he thought.

“Oh yeah? What about at training camp you wouldn’t talk to me then either, you didn’t even eat with us you just sat on your own.” He threw back.

“Yeah, cause I have anxiety!” The words left your mouth before you knew it. Kuroo looked taken back.

“What?” His brow furrows, “Since when?” He’s not sure what to believe. You’re not surprised since you have worked very hard to hide it from everyone, accidentally sabotaging your own relationship without even knowing it. 

“Since forever. I just never told anyone.” You quietly say, ducking your head down.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” You didn’t even need to look up to see the hurt on his face, it was apparent in his voice. You start playing with your finger, tapping them in rhythms.

“I wanted to,” You mumble, “But whenever I do stuff changes and I didn’t want anything to change.” He shifts forward and you think he’s going to leave. Instead, he grabs your hands, stopping the pattern you had going. You look up.

“Did you think I would judge you?” He was staring straight into you, willing the truth to come out.

“Whenever I tell people they either don’t believe me and brush it off or treat me like I’m incapable of handling any amount of stress. I’ve never seen anyone react any differently so I was scared you would fall into one of those reactions and I didn’t know how I could handle that. I didn’t want my anxiety to be the thing to tear us apart. But I guess it still was.” By the end of your speech, your gaze has returned back to the floor, unable to hold eye contact for that long with him staring at you so strongly. You hear him sigh then you are pulled forward and into his arms. 

“I want to be your pillar of support. I want to be that third reaction that is one of acceptance, one that doesn’t drive you crazy.” He strokes your hair soothingly, his words making you tear up, “When you are ready I want you to tell me everything. From when you first noticed it, to where it is now, to how you deal with it, everything.” By now you are fully crying, absolutely collapsed into his chest. “I love you so much.” It gets muffled in his shirt but he hears it.

“I know, and I love you.”

It would take some time for Kuroo to get used to this change but slowly but surely he will be different from the rest and he will support you no matter what. Although he also respects your strength and knows you can handle your anxiety on your own, he is always there when you need it. He becomes the third unexpected and unheard-of reaction; acceptance.

#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu oneshot #haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #nekoma #kuroo #kuroo fluff #kuroo tetsuro imagine #kuroo tetsuro oneshot #kuroo scenarios #kuroo hurt/comfort #kuroo x reader #hq kuroo

[hansolmates]

me time (m)

summary; the first time virgin!mc meets her mans (but she doesn’t know it yet) pairing; jungkook x virgin!mc genre/warnings; fluff, college!au, boarding house!au, based on the virgin!oc discourse, female masturbation (thanks to the pretty bridgertons), a lil sad and longing at the end w/c; 1.3k a/n; y’all really brought manhater!mc and virgin!mc to life! this couldn’t be done without all of your fabulous input and support. obviously the virginverse is freeform at this point—think of this more as a prequel for these two. set in freshman year of college, when they’re just acquaintances. (do you guys think of cher from clueless when u think virgin!mc? very outgoing n’cute but also very innocent?) anyway, happy valentine’s day i hope you and your boo (whether digital or in-person) get your me/we time💖

Your wooden lap desk is toppled to the side. Good thing the space between the mattress and floor is small, your pink monstera-shaped rug softening the blow when your water bottle, pencils and laptop fall to the floor. In the back of your head you know everything is fine because the last episode of Bridgerton is still playing, an orchestral version of Ariana Grande’s Thank U, Next continuing on as if nothing’s astray. 

Yet you’re nothing but astray, forgotten about the episode and writhing against your too-small twin as you let yourself cum for the umpeeth time. 

You’ve lost track at this point (how couldn't you? Bridgerton is hot) but from the way your hair mats to your face like a second skin and your pussy feels spent and battered, it’s been awhile. This should be your new Valentine’s Day tradition, fucking yourself until you pass out on your vibrator. 

“Ah, ah fu—uck, yyyes!” 

The sheets are sopping. The grey cotton fabric does nothing to hide your juices that seep from your bare cunt to the mattress. Flinging your silicone toy to the side, you pull your hair up and out of your face. 

Water, you need water. Maybe a cup of green tea with a dollop of honey. Sugar always helps the immediate low after a good couple of rounds. 

However, you’ll never get used to the feeling of cleaning up yourself. The feeling that you’ve done something completely lewd all on your own, no one to assure you the things you’re doing are weird. It’s okay though. You love to be alone, it takes a lot for you to feel lonely. 

You slip on a pair of dolphin-cut shorts, too tiny that they are drowned beneath your emerald green slip dress. Quickly opening the door to your room, you’re met with absolute silence. White walls containing empty rooms and a living room without a soul. Just like you’re expecting in a college boardhouse on Valentine’s Day. 

What you’re not expecting however, is Jeon Jungkook staring at you the second you crack your door open. 

“If you’re screaming that loud, your partner must be doing a good job.” 

Jungkook lives on the other side of the boarding house, therefore you’ve never really interacted with him. Excluding the landlord there’s only five other tenants, a group large enough that you’ve never had to have one-on-one with him. 

You really didn’t think anyone would be in the house on Valentine’s, especially Jungkook. He’s an absolute cutie pie, even though you don’t know anything about him. The only thing you really know is that his sparkly brown eyes are to die for, they remind you of coffee milk tea, a craving you only indulge in at the end of finals season. 

To your surprise, Jungkook looks like he hasn’t gone out all weekend. Him, single? As if! Yet you can’t justify any reasoning behind him being home if did have a girlfriend or boyfriend. His dark hair is fluffy and freshly showered, and you can’t ignore the smell of linens from his soft sweats and long navy hoodie. 

Normally, you’d be quiet during Me Time. You’ve perfected the art, stuffing your mouth with your pillow or playing action movies to muffle out the sound. You thought you were in the clear. The thought of Jungkook overhearing you turns you on a little, makes the dampness between your panties even more evident, but you keep that self-indulgent secret to yourself. 

“Oh, well,” you curl your lips in a smirk, closing the door behind you so he doesn’t see that your room is actually very much devoid of life, “she’s very powerful.” 

She, meaning your favorite vibrator in your entire world. It has ten settings and a heating mechanism. More importantly, it’s rechargeable. You don’t know how you’d survive freshman year otherwise. 

“Okay, TMI,” despite the fact Jungkook’s blushing he’s chuckling, holding a hand out for you in the narrow hallway, “after you.” 

You quickly slip past him, walking into the shared kitchenette. Bare feet slapping against the hardwood, your eyes immediately gravitate toward the upper cabinet. Jungkook is following you, presumably to get his own late night snack. When you lift your arms to reach your mug, you feel a little bit of cool air brush against the uppers of your thighs. It’s a nightgown, a pretty satin slip  that falls over your curves and leaves much to the imagination. A couple more centimeters to get your mug and you’ll be definitely flashing Jungkook. 

“Um,” you practically hear the twisted face he’s making. 

“Sorry—I’m sorry!” you blurt, waving your fingers to catch the handle of your mug, “I’m really not trying to flash you—please don’t fill a harassment report! I just can’t reach my mug.” 

“No, that’s my mug.” 

“What, no! I’ve been drinking from this mug all year!” 

“You’ve been drinking from my mug?” Jungkook is affronted, walking past you to easily grab the mug you’ve been struggling to reach for the past minute. He flexes the bottom part of the mug in your face, where his initials are painted in black. “This is my mug, my parents put my handprint on it when I was a year old.”  

It’s then you notice on the lower shelf, there’s an identical mug. This mug has been buried all the way in the back, dust collecting on the rim. It also has a baby handprint on it, although upon closer inspection it’s smaller and in a more faded shade of black. That’s your mug. 

“Oh, Jungkook,” you feel your heart fall all the way to your ass, feeling guilty, “I’m so sorry. I’ve washed it and everything, if it makes you feel any better.” 

He frowns, holding the white porcelain between his hands. A litany of ideas run through your brain. Is he disgusted by using the same mug as you? Have you potentially ruined a prized family treasure? 

Thrusting the mug into your chest he says, “Make me a hot chocolate and we’re even.” 

You smile a little, eager to please. You quickly get to work, simmering the pan with warm milk and melting chopped chocolate. You rinse your mug with some hot water, letting it sit next to his awaiting mug. For a bit of flair you add a capful of vanilla extract, all while Jungkook watches you with mild awe. The smell of sweet late night confections fill the kitchen, a fitting theme for a Valentine’s night. 

“You’re not burning the milk,” Jungkook murmurs more to himself than you, watching as you pour the hot chocolate in cups without spilling a drop. 

Jungkook is known to burn things in the house. The only thing he doesn’t burn is ramen, and that’s purely due to survival skills. 

“What can I say, I’m an expert,” you wink, handing him his mug and you holding yours. 

With matching mugs, the two of you take your first sips of the melty beverage. You lean against the stove facing him, while he faces you against the marble island. Jungkook smiles and a bit of cocoa touches his petal pink lips. He says it’s perfect and you smile into your cup, absolutely swelling with pride. 

Jungkook’s probably working on his photos. He always says his editing bug is itchy at night. While in passing you’ve said you’d love to see his work, however that gesture of kindness never really amounted to anything. Maybe tonight’s the night. You like art, you’d love to be a little more educated with it. Just as you’re about to ask and strike up some conversation, Jungkook beats you to it. 

“Well, hope you and your partner have a good Valentine’s,” Jungkook holds his cup in salute, walking back into his room, “just keep it down.” 

Oh well. You sigh to yourself, letting Jungkook walk away without a fight or a retort. After all, it was you who implied you were sneaking in a bed partner tonight. Sinking your eyes into the brown liquid, you fall into a lull. The creamy liquid swirls in your grasp, making your muddied reflection ripple away. 

You love to be alone, but it takes someone like Jeon Jungkook to remind you that life gets a little lonely. 

#ficswithluv #kwritersworldnet #btsghostie #btsguild #btswritingcafe #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook fic #bts fic #bts fluff #bts smut

[alexa-crowe]

Signs

Episode: “Je Souhaite” | Rated M | @today-in-fic | Warning: if any of the symptoms of pregnancy are squicky for you, it would be best to avoid this fic. Also, a reminder that we use Fahrenheit in the U.S., so don’t freak out at the wonky temperature stuff, my Celsius loaves.

Scully feels a little guilty for sending Mulder home last night after teasing him all day about what she was going to do to him in bed, but she blames her upset stomach on being “forced” to skip lunch that day. Scully had waved him off after three hours of on and off vomiting, feeling like she sent the entirety of her pizza and soda into the toilet.

She’d sent him back to his apartment so he’d stop hovering, his incessant chatter only magnifying the headache beginning to build at the base of her skull.

Mulder had called as soon as he got home, leaving a voicemail for her to please not come in tomorrow if she’s still sick. Well, Scully had fortunately felt right as rain when she woke up, aside from the minimal gnawing feeling in her stomach.

She regrets eating two bagels with lox and her real cream cheese now. This must be her punishment for breaking the rule of saving it for the fair amount of bad mornings she encounters. Her stomach’s mutinying again at the smell of Mulder’s black coffee and she can feel another toilet session coming on.

“Oh, God,” Scully whispers, all intent to apologize and press a soft kiss to his lips going out the proverbial door as she sprints out the real one and hauls ass to the bathroom.

She must have a stomach bug, Scully reasons, trying to even out her breathing as she folds some paper towels and wets them before pressing them against her face and neck. She’s suddenly feeling strangely hot, evidence of her sick flushed away.

Mulder knocks three times on the bathroom door. “Scully?”

“Yeah?” she sends back, splashing her face with water. She groans as she feels another gag coming on.

“I brought you some ginger ale and—and some Pepto Bismol. And Tums. I know you don’t like the Pepto but, you know, I figured this called for all the stops.”

She can imagine the look on his face as he hears her vomiting again. Scully checks her watch when it’s over. It’s still only 8:27 in the fucking morning!? How the hell is she supposed to make it through the rest of the workday like this?

The door hinges creak and she looks over at Mulder. “I told you not to come in if you’re still sick, Scully.”

“I wasn’t! I felt fine this morning, and then I walked in the office and smelled your coffee and...”

He leans against the counter and crosses his arms, puckering his lips as part of his exaggerated thinking face. Scully stands up straight and shoots him a look. Mulder shakes his head and puts his hands up. “Look, all I’m saying is that it looks like the same thing happened last night. As soon as we got out the ice cream, you bolted to the bathroom.”

She sighs and shakes her head. “What are you getting at, Mulder?”

“Just that you should go home and at least take a nap or something. If you stay off your feet for a few hours and relax, I’ll be happy. Nibble on some crackers, catch a soap opera...” Mulder shrugs. “You’re clearly sick, Scully. If not for yourself, do it on the chance that it’s contagious.”

Scully places the wet paper towel on the back of her neck, holding it there. “Fine. But only because it might be contagious.”

“I mean—that doesn’t make it better, but thank you nonetheless. Do you want me to drive you? What if there’s a random smell that sets you off on the ride there?”

She rolls her eyes but tells him, “Fine.”

—

Mulder’s assertion that certain smells have been setting off whatever’s going on with her stomach seem to be proven true when she comes back to the office after a few hours of rest and relaxation to the harsh sight of a man whose... whose mouth suddenly disappeared and had to be surgically recreated. Not a twinge from her stomach aside from shock butterflies.

Scully’s relieved that she’s been able to keep down her lunch. To be fair, it was crackers with a little cheese and a full two cups of water to make sure she was hydrated, but any food is good food. She proudly announces to Mulder during their ensuing flight the next day that it seems whatever illness hit is gone.

—

It’s not cold in Creve Coeur, Missouri—certainly not in Spring—but Scully’s feeling every degree of the breeze through the open windows like it’s in the thirties. She’s shivering the entire car ride to the Mark Twain Trailer Park, and noticeably enough for Mulder to glance at her with concern before putting up the windows and turning the heat up.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little cold.”

He frowns at that but lets it go until they hit a red light, when he leans over and presses his hand to her forehead.

Scully quirks her lips in a smile. “What are you doing?”

“Checking your temperature,” he replies. “You don’t seem to have a fever...”

“I’m fine, Mulder,” she insists, leaning into his hand for the few seconds she gets the light turns green.

“Alright, but if you’re still sick, Scully, then you have to promise me that you’ll go back to the motel, okay? I brought the meds just in case, if you need them.”

She smiles softly and places her hand on his arm. “Thank you.”

“It’s what a good boyfriend does.”

—

Her stomach bug really does seem to be gone, which is a relief. However, she’s now insatiably hungry for two things: Mulder, and the bagels from the bagel place two streets over from her apartment. Well, she consoles, one is attainable, at least. And, boy, does she attain it. They’re both breathing heavily by the time Scully’s through with him, and even though they’re sticky with sweat, she curls her body around Mulder’s anyway.

Her breasts are tingly, which has never happened after sex before, but she chalks it up to Mulder’s harsh treatment of her only a minute ago as she nuzzles his chest. She inhales and sighs happily. “I love the way you smell,” she murmurs.

He laughs and she feels it against her cheek. “Coming from the woman who made me start using a different deodorant,” he jokes, squeezing his arm around her shoulders. “Your nipples are darker.”

“What?” Scully props herself up with her forearm to make proper eye contact as her brows furrow.

“Yeah. I don’t know. They’re darker. Feel a little heavier, too. You didn’t notice?”

She shakes her head and laughs. “Unlike you, Mulder, I don’t spend hours studying my boobs.”

He shrugs and rolls them over so he’s hovering over her on his forearms. “Your loss.”

—

“Fuck,” she swears, digging around in her suitcase, fresh from her shower. She’s only got one hand because the other’s holding her towel wrap together.

“What?” Mulder asks around his toothbrush, exiting the bathroom. His tie is slung behind his neck and his suit jacket is waiting for him on the bed.

“I don’t have any panty liners.”

“Do you want me to go out and get some?” he asks, heading back to the bathroom to spit.

“Yeah, that would be great.” Scully walks past him into the still-warm bathroom and lets the towel drop as she uses the one wrapped around her hair to dry the wet strands.

“Alright. I’ll be back in a jiffy.” She drops the hair towel when he takes the singular step needed in the tiny motel bathroom to invade her space in favor of pulling him down for a kiss by the ends of his tie. “Mmm, settle down or the plan’ll be botched.”

“I was just thanking you,” Scully says, affecting innocence as she does his tie for him.

“For buying you panty liners? What would happen if I surprised you with some ice cream?”

“I would eat the ice cream.”

“Damn.” Mulder presses a kiss to the top of her head before heading out to put on his suit jacket. “Do you mind me asking why you need panty liners? Also! What brand?”

“Any with wings. And I need them because there’s been an unusual amount of vaginal discharge in my underwear and I don’t want to ruin any more of them.”

“Right.” He steps back in view of the bathroom and takes in her naked body.

Scully raises an eyebrow at him. “What?”

(Their books on pregnancy are buried inside their storage closets from a time best forgotten.)

“Nothing. I just like looking at you.”

She smiles at him, drying her hair again. “Get going, hotshot.”

—

Halfway through the flight home, Scully discovers something that makes her a bit worried. She’s not supposed to get her period until next week, so the blood on the liner she quickly tosses away with shaky hands can’t be because of that. She tries to forget about it as she walks back to her seat next to Mulder, but he must see something on her face that prompts him to ask if she’s okay.

“I’m fine,” she lies, managing to give him a smile. “Just tired.”

He seems to accept that and leaves her be. It’s not even a lie; she feels exhausted after everything that happened over the past few days. Scully makes a mental note to book an emergency appointment with her Ob-Gyn when they land, and closes her eyes.

—

“Dana,” Dr. Namin starts, disrupting her patient’s thumb twiddling.

Scully abruptly stands up as her doctor moves to stand in front of the exam table, computer and several documents in hand. “You don’t look concerned,” she says, following Namin to the exam table.

“Because there’s nothing to be concerned about at this stage except plenty of rest, hydration, and eating at least three good meals a day,” Scully’s doctor replies, opening up her computer and spreading out the documents. “We’ve done all the tests you asked for, but nothing came up. However, based on the symptoms you listed, I performed one more, and that’s where we found the culprit.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re pregnant, Dana. Plain and simple. Congratulations.” Dr. Namin slides one of the documents towards Scully, who takes it. “You’re about three and a half weeks along. You can take all the papers. There’s suggestions for all the prenatal vitamins you’ll need to take and how much water to drink in a day. Resources for managing symptoms, too.”

Scully nods dumbly, tears gathering in her eyes as she stares at the diagnosis. “Um, when should I come back?”

“Don’t worry about that right now, I’ll have someone give you a call with that information. Just relax and enjoy the news. I remember how much you wanted this, Dana. I...I don’t know how this happened, but the baby’s doing well. Minor bleeding is completely normal and you don’t need to worry. If it gets worse or doesn’t stop soon, then come back.”

“Okay,” Scully chokes out, smiling widely as she wipes away her tears and collects the documents on the exam table.

—

She spends a few hours at her apartment trying to figure out how to tell Mulder the good news but gets nowhere. In the middle of pacing around her couch, one arm unconsciously wrapped around her abdomen, her phone starts ringing.

“Scully speaking.”

“Agent Scully,” Skinner starts, and she immediately knows that Mulder’s done something stupid again, “could you check on Agent Mulder? He snuck into my meeting and was yelling at my chair.”

“Yes, of course, sir.”

“Thank you.”

Scully hangs up the phone and sighs heavily. Looks like God’s giving her a sign to just get it over with. When she enters the office, however, the woman Mulder keeps insisting is a genie is there, too. She licks her lips nervously and tries to ignore her.

“Skinner called me, Mulder. Is everything alright?”

Sitting at the desk, computer on, she has to wonder what he’s doing. “You don’t remember disappearing off the face of the Earth for an hour this morning?”

She gives her head a small shake as she tells him, “No,” truly starting to get concerned.

Mulder just shrugs with a little smile and gets back to typing with a nonchalant, “Well, I guess everything’s okay.”

Get it out, just say it, she thinks, trying to psych herself up. She sighs. “Mul—” But the woman’s still there in the office. “Could you give us a minute, please?”

“Sure,” the woman—Jenn, Mulder told her on the plane—says with a nod.

Scully steps closer to the desk, butterflies in her stomach. Jenn isn’t moving, and it’s making her annoyed, quite frankly. “Like, today?” she says, turning around, but the black-haired woman is nowhere to be found, not even in the annex. Scully turns back to her partner, extremely confused. “Where the hell’d she go?”

Mulder childishly imitates a genie disappearing and she feels the sudden urge to laugh at the thought that this man is the father of her child. “No...” she says, softening the guffaw trying to escape to a scoff-laugh. “It’s gotta—” She scoffs for real this time. “It’s gotta be hypnotism, or—or mesmerism, or something.”

And thus begins the verbal sparring. As he lists all the things he wants for the world, Scully thinks, again, of how this is the father of her child. Something suspiciously soft is trying to emerge from her heart as she responds, and she’s a coward to boot, so she leaves without telling him. Driving back to her apartment, Scully feels guilty at how little effort she put into trying to break the news to Mulder. She just—she doesn’t know what to make of the news herself, let alone how to explain it to him.

An hour into The Exorcist, hugging a pillow as she wishes Mulder was watching it with her, the phone rings. “Scully, do you wanna come over and watch a movie? I’ve got your favorite popcorn...”

She grins. “Of course. I’ll bring the drinks.”

—

They’ve both changed their clothes for the movie night, and when Mulder opens the door, they’re sporting matching grins. “Oh, zero alcohol content?” he faux complains, taking the case of six drinks into the kitchen. “Is this your punishment for me, Scully?”

She elects not to respond as she follows him and takes out the package of popcorn and a pot. “Can you grab the olive oil, Mulder?”

“Yeah, of course.” He puts four of the drinks in the fridge before reaching into one of the cabinets to grab the oil and put it on the counter next to the stove, which Scully’s turning it on.

“I’ll never understand why you won’t just microwave them. It’s faster.”

“Yeah, but if you do it in the pot, it tastes better,” she shoots back, opening the package and pouring the kernels into the pot.

“That’s just because of the oil.”

“Well, you can continue to eat shitty popcorn for the rest of your life if you want, but I’m going to eat my good popcorn.”

They turn to face each other as the kernels pop and hit the lid, a staring contest beginning. Scully wins when she licks her lips and distracts Mulder enough to get him to blink.

“Ha! I got you! I win!”

“That’s cheating!”

“I won!” she says in a sing-song voice, emptying the finished popcorn into the bowl.

Mulder shakes his head with a smile. “Why don’t you take the drinks and get comfortable. I’ll finish the popcorn.”

Scully nods and does as he suggests, but as she’s crossing into the living room, she pauses and turns around. “No butter, please,” she says, and he turns around with a scoop of butter in a bowl in his right hand, the handle of the microwave in the other.

“No... butter...?” She nods. “We always put butter on the popcorn, Scully.”

“Well, I don’t want butter this time,” she says, and makes her way to the couch, sitting down and placing the drinks on the coffee table. She hears Mulder sigh heavily and put the bowl of butter in the fridge before making his way to the living room, bowl of popcorn in hand.

He shakes his head as he grabs the movie case from the table and inserts it into the player. “Can’t believe you don’t want butter on your popcorn. Eugh. It’s un-American.” He steps around the table and sits down next to Scully.

She takes the case from where he left it and makes a face. “Caddyshack, Mulder?” she questions.

“It’s a classic American movie,” he insists, grabbing his drink and propping his feet up.

“That’s what every guy says.” Scully grabs her own and untwists the cap, tossing it onto the table. Mulder does the same, but his bounces off onto the floor, and she laughs into the bottle. “So, uh... What’s the occasion?” she asks, as if they still take the justifying movie nights thing seriously.

Last week’s was I thought you might need some help feeding your fish.

“I don’t know. Just felt like the thing to do. Cheers.”

Maybe it is time to turn over a new leaf, especially considering the baby growing inside her, cell by cell. They clink their bottles—“Cheers,” she says—and drink. Tell him, tell him, tell hi—

“I don’t know if you noticed, but I, um, never made the world a happier place.”

They nod together and Scully knows that this is the moment to tell him. She takes a deep breath. “Well, I’m fairly happy. That’s something.” A smile slides onto her face and she looks at him, a lot more than fairly happy now. “Actually, I’m ecstatic.” She gives a little laugh and reaches into her pocket for the piece of paper she’d stared at for hours earlier.

“Really? Is there a specific reason, or...?”

Scully pulls the paper out and looks at the blue highlighted text on the portion of the paper that’s not folded back for a moment before handing it to Mulder. “That’s why,” she says, voice trembling a little out of happiness.

She watches his face as the words sink in. He reads it again, murmuring, “Diagnosis: pregnancy (3.5 weeks),” as he does so, a grin spreading across his lips. “Scully...”

“I know,” she says, setting her bottle on the table, and before Mulder can say anything else, she cups his cheeks and kisses him, unwilling to fight the urge.

“Scully, this is wonderful!” He laughs joyously and kisses her again, setting the paper and his drink on the table. “I’m so happy.” He brings her into his embrace and buries his face in her shoulder for a long moment, both of them starting to cry. He suddenly pulls away and puts his hand on her abdomen under her shirt, his other arm still wrapped around Scully.

“I love you,” she tells him.

“I love you, too,” he replies.

#txf #fanfiction #msr #mine #wahhhh!!!!! #i love: them #i had so much fun writing this ksdjhfkjs like an inordinate amount

[gubler-me-up]

Lost in Translation

Request(s): Hey :) Can i make a Spencer request? Something like that episode in Mexico, with a bilingual reader please <3 Like a trip and he realizes that the reader can speak Spanish, he's kinda mesmerized and she helps the team to get more information about the unsub

hey beautiful :) could u write something (literally anything) where the reader speaks another language or like they have an australian accent or smthg and they have to like translate for the team and spencer just thinks it’s the hottest thing in the world and then the reader gets real worked up and starts yelling in the other language and spencer is just like skdkdmend,,,,u don’t have to if u don’t wanna but like i love u sm ur amazing 

A/N: Thanks for the first request @cryingforwill​ and shout out to the anon who sent the second request! Can y’all believe this is my last fic of 2020? Being posted early? New year, new me (maybe)! Thank you to everyone who has been reading and supporting my work for the last four months of 2020 you literally ROCK 🗣 btw I am by no means bilingual (maybe a lil French but that’s it) so all the Spanish being spoken in this fic is straight from Google Translate so pls forgive me if it doesn’t translate properly and if you’re like me and don’t know Spanish pls have Google Translate on deck while reading

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!reader

Category: Fluff

Content warning: Swearing, semi-nudity, mentions of violence 

Word count: 2k

————-

It was rare that the team travelled abroad for a case but when an unsub was on the run to Mexico they had no choice to follow their tracks. The team landed in Mexico within a day of finding out the unsub had fled. They didn’t waste time scoping out places the unsub could possibly be according to eyewitness reports.

Unfortunately for Spencer he got stuck with surveilling at the beach with Morgan in the hot sun. They made sure to dress for the part by wearing swim trunks and sunglasses. Well, that’s what Morgan was wearing. Spencer opted to wear a white t-shirt,  brown khaki pants and a pair of black converse.

Morgan had begged him to change into something else so he wouldn’t stick out like a sore thumb. Spencer insisted that if he just stayed on the outskirts of the beach he would look like a tourist sightseeing. The explanation earned him an eye roll and look of disappointment from Morgan.

No matter the amount of disappointment Morgan felt, the surveillance plan went as planned. Morgan went on the beach to blend in with locals and tourists so he could ask people if they had seen the unsub as well as scoping the area for him. Spencer stayed just at the border of the beach surveilling the area. Whenever someone would pass by he would ask them if they had seen the unsub.

From a handful of people ignoring him to them just giving him a weird look, he felt as if he actually did look a bit weird in his attire. He sighed and decided it might be best if he did some surveillance from the car with his pair of binoculars. Before he could turn around to leave, a volleyball hit his feet.

He looked down and picked it up. He had no idea why he picked it up considering he didn’t know who to give it to. Even if he did he wouldn’t embarrass himself trying to hit it back to the person it belonged to. Volleyball was apart of his long list of sports he wasn’t good at.

“Hey, sorry, that’s mine.”

He looked in the direction of where the voice was yelling. He raised his eyebrows in surprise as he saw a gorgeous woman running towards him. He tried to be respectful and not stare for too long considering she was wearing a bikini. He didn’t want her to think he was a creep or even worse, the unsub.

She smiled as she made her way right in front of him. She held out her hands for him to give her back the ball. He looked down at her hands and then at his. He silently went “oh” as he realized he still had the ball in his hand.

“Sorry,” he said as he handed her the ball.

She looked him up and down with a questionable look. She looked back at his face. Spencer for sure thought she was going to treat him like the rest and pretend he just wasn’t there. To his surprise she smiled at him.

“¿Eres de eta zona?” She asked.

He shook his head. “No, no lo soy.”

She giggled. “Por la forma en que mataste tu sentencia, puedo decir que eres de los Estados Unidos.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Supongo que eras de la zona.”

She nodded her head. She reached into her bikini top. He watched carefully to see what she was about to pull out. He then realized there’s no way she could be hiding a weapon in her bikini top so he strayed his eyes away from her breast.

She saw how flustered he had become and laughed at how his pale face turned red. She pulled out her I.D. card to show him who she was. He looked at her surprised when he read her identification.

“My name’s Y/N Y/L/N. I’m originally from America myself but I opted to work for the Policía Federal after serving my time as a special agent at the FBI California headquarters. I’m here to be of assistance to you and your team, agent,” she said.

“How did you know I was-”

“My team was informed by your unit chief, Aaron Hotchner, that an unsub had crossed over to our borders, so we know everyone on your team. Also, no one dresses like that unless they’re undercover.”

Spencer looked down at his attire. He guessed Morgan had a valid point of him sticking out. She laughed and grabbed his hand to escort him onto the beach. He hesitantly held back.

“I hate sand in my shoes,” he complained.

“Well, you should have worn sandals. Aren’t you the genius of the group? Dr. Spencer Reid? How come you didn’t think of that?” She questioned as she yanked him onto the beach.

Spencer trailed behind her unwillingly. He could already feel the sand seeping into his shoes already. He would have been more upset but he was entering the beach for some reason Y/N hadn’t explained to him yet. Since she was on their side, there wasn’t a direct reason not to trust her.

“I wasn’t going to go onto the beach. My partner, Derek Morgan, is surveilling the beach,” he explained.

“The beach is the best part to surveil though. Seems to me you got the short end of the stick,” she said.

“It’s the stick I chose and I’m fine with it,” he said.

She giggled. “Tonto, tonto chico.”

“Uh, gracias?”

She led him over to an area where there was a blue beach towel set up with a cloth bag on it. She let his hand go and kneeled on the towel. He looked at her strangely as he watched her ruffling through her bag. She pulled out a bottle of sunscreen.

“Can you apply sunscreen to my back please?” She asked.

“I-I don’t know if-”

“Do you want to blend in or not, khaki pants?”

He looked down at his pants before looking back at her. She reached the bottle out to him and he didn’t feel as if he had a better option so he took it from her. She smiled as she scooted down to make some room for him to kneel behind her.

He went behind her and kneeled. He opened it up and squeezed a good amount on his hands. He rubbed his hands together before he started applying it to her lower back. He had to admit her skin was the softest thing he had ever touched.

“Crees que puedes seguirme si hablo español durante esta conversación?” She asked

“Intentaré,” he said.

“Excelente. Tengo un hueso personal que elegir con su sospechoso,” she said.

“Que hizo…Wait, what are you doing?” He asked.

Y/N reached one hand to the back of her bikini top and untied it. She held the front of it with her free hand so her breasts wouldn’t spill out, flustering Spencer anymore than he already was. She looked back at him with a smile as she saw him turn red again.

“You need to get the whole of my back,” she said.

“Uh…I guess?” He said.

“You sound unsure. Wait until you have to do the front,” she said.

“I what?” He choked.

“I’m kidding. We’ll save that possibility for another time,” she said with a wink before turning her head.

Spencer’s mouth was gaped open but he couldn’t find the words to say back to her. He honestly didn’t know what would be the appropriate way to respond to her. If Morgan was there he probably would have been even more disappointed by the way he was acting around Y/N.

“Your unsub, Eric Brown, almost killed my partner,” she said.

“I heard,” Spencer softly said.

“Ese hijo de puta nos sorprendió. Le disparó a mi compañero en el cuello y si no estuviera allí para evitar que se desangrara, habría estado muerto,” she said, gradually becoming louder in her tone.

“Lamento que tu y tu pareja hayan sido víctimas de él,” he said.

“¿Ser víctima de él? Si vuelvo a ver a ese hijo de puta voy a hacer que me caiga víctima,” she yelled.

He let her have her little moment because he knew how upsetting being in that type of situation could be. Even though he was upset for her, he couldn’t help think her yelling was tantalizing. It didn’t help he was enjoying rubbing her back with sunscreen and feeling her soft skin over and over again.

“Estamos aquí para ayudar en todo lo que podamos. Queremos hacer justicia a su pareja y a las otras víctimas de Brown,” Spencer said.

She turned around to look at him with a smile. He smiled back at her as he took his hands off of her. She looked down at the string that dangled at her side and then looked back at him. He didn’t need her to say anything and grabbed both strings on both sides of her to tie it around her back.

“Eres muy dulce, Spencer. Le devolveré el favor diciéndole esto: escuché de un informante hoy que Brown intentará esconderse en un carro de cargamento de drogas que se dirige a Cuba,” she said.

“Really?” He asked in shock.

“Sí. The shipment leaves in six hours, but the dock isn’t too far from here. If my hunch is right, he isn’t staying too far from the dock,” she said.

“Reid.”

They both looked up to see Morgan walking their way. Spencer immediately got up and dusted the sand off his pants. Y/N also got up and picked up all of her belongings off of the ground.

“Morgan, I-uh…I know what this might seem like but I was-um.”

“Hi, my name’s Y/N Y/L/N. I’m with the Policía Federal. I was informing agent Reid about Brown’s possible whereabouts,” she said.

“Yeah, apparently, he’s going to get on a drug shipment to Cuba in six hours,” Spencer whispered.

“He’s most likely hiding out somewhere north of Cancun,” she said.

“Great. Thanks for the information. Are your units scouting the area out?” Morgan asked.

She nodded. “Yes, but we’re not trying to penetrate the area directly. We have no idea what kind of people Brown has paired up with and he’s already attacked one of our own before, so we’re treading lightly.”

“Fair. I guess we’ll meet in six hours to catch him,” Morgan said as he reached out his hand.

Y/N grabbed it and shook it. “We definitely will, agent.”

As she let go of his hand, she looked over at Spencer. She smiled and reached out her hand. She noticed his hesitation to grab it, so she did him the favour and latched into his hand. She pulled him in and gave him a light kiss on the cheek.

“Gracias por aplicarme protector solar en la espalda. Tal vez después de atrapar a este hijo de puta, podamos ser más íntimos,” she said into his ear.

She pulled away from him and saw that confused yet intrigued look on his face again. She laughed before waving them both goodbye. They both watched as she walked off from their sight into the overcrowded beach.

Morgan flopped his arm around Spencer’s shoulders. Spencer looked at Morgan to see a grin spanning from ear to ear. He sighed as he already knew what Morgan was going to say.

“So you spent the time you were supposed to be surveilling rubbing on a hottie’s back?” Morgan asked

“How about we don’t talk about it?” Spencer said as he shrugged off Morgan’s arm and started to walk away.

“You can’t keep your secret move from me,” Morgan said as he walked behind him.

“What secret move?” Spencer asked.

“The “standing there out of place but yet attract all the ladies to me” move,” Morgan said.

Spencer smirked. “I would teach you if I knew why it happened.”

Morgan chuckled. “You know what, I think I’m more content with you finally not knowing an answer for something than I am with you getting a potential date.”

—–

MASTERLIST

Tagged: @shadyladyperfection, @slutforthegubes, @pinkdiamond1016, @spencerreidsthings, @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto, @slutforsr @bxtchboy69, @fallinallinmendes @haihappen5 @mgg-theprettiestboy @siltuz-png @ptrs-prkrs @tclaerh @agentadhd @alexmarie29 @closetedreidstan @mac99martin @blxckhearthood @jesspavlik0vsky @katexrichardson @keniaasf @reidbuck @corishirogane3 @thegoddamncrazycatlady @keniaasf @pastelbabygirl19 @shadybagelsludgecolor @bootycrackraisinjuice @vintagebeauty1496 @bluerose512​ @laneybobeczko-g​ @averyhotchner​ @littlewierdalien @cynbx @mggsprettygirl​ @jessalyn-jpeg​

#spencer reid #dr. spencer reid #Spencerreid #dr.spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid request #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem!reader #mgg #Matthew Gray Gubler #Criminal Minds #criminalminds #CM #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds request #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fluff

[tom-holland-parker]

Champagne Problems

Summary: Tom asked you a life changing question but you can’t give the right answer. 

Pairing: Tom x reader

Warning: Themes of mental health issues such as depression and Eating disorders

Word count: 1481

Note: Inspired by champagne Problems by Taylor Swift. 

Masterlist

///////

You sat on the uncomfortable cushioned seats waiting for the train to move. The thoughts in your head found their way to the hallowed out pain in your chest. Your throat dry, but your face still wet from the tears. You knew this feeling too well. Numb

As the train began to move you watched the bustling crowds on the platform become small. The train wasn’t full and if you were being honest you preferred it that way. It gave you time to think. Time to sit and feel hurt. You fought with yourself trying your best to stay awake. Every time you close your eyes it’s the same face.

His face.

Funny how in a few short hours you can find your whole life turned upside down. 

---

“My family is really excited to see you” Your boyfriend said as you wrapped his red flannel around your body. The November breeze was colder today, setting the tone for the terrible thing you were planning to do. You put on your best smile as you walked to the passenger side of his car. “Yeah I can’t wait to see them again. It’s been so long” 

Tom was nervous. You didn’t know why but you kept telling yourself it was nothing. Maybe you were wrong. Maybe he knew you were planning on breaking his heart. Maybe he was just waiting for it to happen. 

The second you reached his parents party the guilt inside of you multiplied. How could you be cold to someone so warm? “Y/N I’ve missed you” Tom’s mother said as she pulled you into her warm embrace “I keep telling Tom to bring you around more but he always says your busy” 

“Yeah well my new job has really kept me on my toes” You lied. Truly your job schedule wasn’t busy but you didn’t want to make things awkward by telling her the reason you hadn’t come around in 3 months was because you’ve been in the biggest depressive episode ever.  “Well at least you’re here now” She smiled as she moved back to talk to the guest. 

You felt Tom's hand meet yours again squeezing it tightly before he leaned it placing a small kiss on your cheek. “You look lovely tonight” He whispered. You chuckled looking you into his soft brown eyes, “Not as lovely as you” You joked as Harry walked towards you. 

“Y/N You look great” He complimented looking down at your black dress, “Do you mind if I borrow Tom real quick?” You nodded your head grabbing a glass of champagne from the table next to you. Him and Tom walked away whispering among themselves.

“Do my eyes deceive me or is that really Y/N?” You turned around when you heard Harrisons voice. He smiled taking another sip of his beer. “Hi Harrison” You rolled your eyes leaning in for a hug.”

“I see you're enjoying the champagne. Sam and Harry picked it just for tonight. It broke their wallets” He chuckled putting his empty beer bottle down to pick up a glass of the Dom Pérignon. You talked for a while catching up on the small things. He learned about your new promotion and you learned about the girl he’d been talking to. It was the small things like this that really kept you grounded. 

Tom returned shortly with a huge grin plastered on his face as he wrapped his arm around your waist. “Care for a dance love?” He asked shyly as Harrison chuckled. You put down your glass and grabbed his hand as a slow song began to play. 

“Have I told you that you look beautiful tonight darling?” He pulled you in closer as you rested your head on his shoulder, unable to hold eye contact. The lump of guilt in your stomach grew bigger. It wasn’t that you didn’t love Tom. You loved him with your entire heart. He was truly the love of your life. It's just you didn’t love yourself. You felt that you were holding him back from all that he could accomplish. 

While he tried his best to be supportive when you couldn’t leave your bed, or when you didn’t eat. Even when you spent most of your day sleeping. He was always by your side. It made you feel terrible every time he cancelled plans to stay with you. You could see the slight sadness in his eyes every time you had your ‘bad days’. It was unfair. That’s why you were doing it 

“About 100 times since you first saw me tonight” you chuckled. 

“And I’ll tell you 100 more times” He kissed your temple softly as you swayed side to side. One by one couples left the dance floor until it was just you and him. Tom shifted his position pulling away from you gently. “Tom?” You asked unsure of the sudden change in his mood. 

He grabbed your hand gently looking to his left to see his family staring at you both before turning back to you. “Y/N I want to ask you something” He cleared his throat as his grip on your hand tightened. Your eyes widened as he began to bend down, getting on one knee. “Y/N Y/L/N I have known you for three amazing years. You’re the love of my life. I love you and I want to make you a part of my family” 

He paused for a moment reaching in his pocket to pull out a small box. Tears flooded your eyes as he opened it exposing the ring his mother always wore. “This ring has been in my family for generations and I want you to have it. Will you marry me?” 

The lump in your throat prevented you from talking. You stood there frozen as the rest of the crowd waited for your answer. You closed your eyes, not wanting to see the pain in his face when he hears your answer. “Tom I love you but I can’t marry you”. Your voice was barely above a whisper but in the quiet room it was heard everywhere. 

You opened your eyes when you heard him gasp. The look of sadness and shock on his face when you gently pulled your hand away. It was unbearable. Your instincts told you to walk away but your feet stood planted on the grown as he slowly got back up. “I don’t understand” His voice cracked. “Did I do something wrong?”

A second wave of tears poured down your face as he moved to touch your cheek. You looked away staring at anything else except him. Harrison and his family stood there in shock. Your stomach dropped when you realized this would be the last you ever saw of them. They wouldn’t want you in their lives after what you’re doing tonight. “Can we talk somewhere else?” You say quietly looking down at your shoes. He nodded his head grabbing your hand to move you into the other room. “Baby what’s wrong? Did I do something?” He had tears forming in his eyes. 

“No Tom you didn’t do anything wrong” You took a deep breath trying your best to put your feelings into words. “I just can’t marry you because it wouldn’t be fair to you. You deserve so much more than I give you” 

“What are you talking about?” He sounded baffled at what you had said. You wiped your tears from your cheeks as more slowly came down. “Tom one day you’re going to find someone who will be able to give you the same amount of the love that you give them. And they’ll make up for the hurt I’ve caused” 

“I don’t want anyone else, I just want you. Why can't you see that?” His voice was filled with pain as he moved closer to you grabbing your hand, “I love you” 

“Tom I love you too it's just-” You were at a loss of words. “It’s just what Y/N?” His voice grew louder but still had hints of sadness.

“I’m holding you back. I know you don’t think I am but it’s true. You’ve missed so many opportunities because of me and my problems. It’s unfair to you. I need to work on myself alone. I love you but I can’t marry Tom” This was gonna be hard to do but the proposal made it even worse. “I’m sorry” 

He stood there frozen as you grabbed your bag and walked out the room. A whisper broke out through the crowd as you walked to the front door.

She would’ve made such a lovely bride. 

It’s a shame she’s fucked in the head

By the time you reached the front door Tom had walked back into the crowded area. His family comforting him was the last image you had as you walked out the door.

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader angst #tom holland x y/n #tom holland imagine #tomblurbs #peter parker x reader #peter parker #imagine #harrison osterfield #harry holland #sam holland #ceo!tom #frat!tom #dad!tom #mob!tom #tom holland fluff #tom holland fic #fluff

[charlies-gillespie]

reminence | charlie gillespie

paring: fem!reader x charlie gillespie

summary: reader stays the night in a hotel but there are no rooms. her ex, Charlie, overheard her talking and offers reader to spend the night in his room

length: mediumish

rating: PG

warnings: none

!! NOT MY GIF !!

MASTERLIST

You get out of the Uber you took to get here from LAX. You thank the driver and get your suitcase out of the trunk of his car. You drag your suitcase and dufflebag into the hotel that you plan in staying at tonight. It’s about five and the lobby is kind of packed. The parking lot was pretty full. You get in line at the desk behind a couple and their child.

The desk receptionist hands the couple a key and they walk off. You approach the desk with a smile and say, “Hi, my name is Y/N L/N and I booked a room here for one night.” The desk receptionist nods and types on the computer.

She makes a face and says, “I’m sorry, Miss L/N but that was our last room available.”

Confused, you say, “I called three days ago and made a reservation for a room.”

“I am all out of rooms tonight, I apologize,” she says. “If you’d like to stay and wait in case someone checks out then you can. I thought we had more than one room available for tonight.”

With a sigh, you open your mouth to say something until you hear someone go “Y/N?” behind you. You turn your head to see Charlie Gillespie standing behind you. You blink at him. You haven’t seen him since he broke up with you almost two years ago after a three year relationship. His hair has gotten longer and he’s gotten ... cuter.

You say, “Charlie, wow. It’s been a long time.”

Charlie approaches you and asks, “Are you staying here tonight?”

“I was going to but they just gave away the last room when I called three days ago reserving a room,” you say. “Why are you staying here?”

He says, “I flew in from Canada yesterday and have been staying here until my friend gets back from Canada so I can stay at his place. Wait, did you say that they don’t have anymore rooms?” You nod. “You can stay with me tonight. I have a second bed in my room that you can use.”

With a smile forming on your lips, you say, “Thank you, Charlie.” The desk receptionist hands you a key to Charlie’s room and the two of you take the elevator up to the fourth floor.

When you’re on the elevator, you take a second to look at the man next to you. His hair was much shorter than it is now. He’s wearing a blue and white button-up shirt that’s a little big on him and the top three or four buttons are undone, revealing his chest. He wears khaki shorts and converse sneakers.

The elevator dings and you get off with Charlie, who leads you down the hallway to his hotel room. He uses his key to let you both in and he lets you walk in first. You look around the room. The bed he probably slept in last night is a mess and isn’t made. There’s a shirt thrown over a chair at the little circular table. A coffee mug sits on the table between the beds.

“It’s a little messy but I wasn’t expecting company,” Charlie says, closing the door behind you. “Sorry.”

You smile and say, “It’s okay. It’s not like you need to impress me or anything.”

Charlie chuckles a bit and says, “I can run and grab us some food while you unpack. I know you probably had a long flight and probably need real food.”

“Yes, please,” you say. “Are there any McDonald’s around here? Or Taco Bell?”

He grabs his wallet and asks, “Your usual from either?” You nod in response. “I’ll be back in about fifteen minutes then.” Charlie leaves the room and you sit on the neatly made bed.

Sometimes you don’t remember why your relationship with Charlie ended. He’s a sweetheart, even after not seeing you for two years.

Your mind wanders while you unpack some of your clothes, putting them in an unused drawer. You check the minifridge to see what Charlie has. He just has a few cans of soda and a few water bottles. You sigh and sit back down on your bed.

Charlie walks in moments later with a Taco Bell bag and two drinks. He sets everything down on the little table and says, “Three soft shell tacos, Nacho Fries, and a Baja Blast. After all this time, I still know your regular at Taco Bell.”

With a laugh, you get up and say, “It’s not that hard to remember three soft shell tacos, Nacho Fries, and a Baja Blast. But thank you, Charlie.”

He smiles as you take your food, your drink, and a few napkins before sitting with your legs cross on your bed.

“What do the channels look like here? Any good ones?” you ask, opening one of your tacos.

Charlie shrugs and says, “There’s HBO we can watch. I know know what movie is on right now. Let’s check though.” He plops down on his bed with his Crunchwrap Supreme and his own Baja Blast. He grabs the remote and scrolls to HBO. He puts the channel on and you recognize the movie as Five Feet Apart. You look at Charlie and he switches to a static filled channel. “Not that one.”

Five Feet Apart was the movie you and Charlie watched the day before your relationship with him ended. You saw it in the movie theater a few weeks after it came out. You haven’t been able to watch it since.

Quickly, Charlie scrolls through the guide and puts on Friends. “This is a good compromise,” you tell him. “We both love Friends.”

“It’s one of the greatest shows ever,” Charlie says enthusiastically.

You laugh and say, “You made me watch this show so many times when we were together. The theme song always got stuck in my head after we watched it.”

Charlie swallows the bite of his Crunchwrap that he took before he asks, “Do you know how much Grey’s Anatomy you made me watch?” You laugh. “We’re even, Y/N.”

After swallowing a bite of your taco, you say, “You made me watch un ungodly amount of Friends, Charlie. It was everyday. I only made you watch Grey’s on Thursdays when it aired.”

He chuckles and says, “Okay, you got me there. You made me watch a lot of TikToks though, Miss L/N. You spent hours showing me videos.”

“You were laughing so I didn’t stop!” you say, jumping to your defense. “Remember that one time we tried making a TikTok by dancing to Obsessed by Mariah Carrey. It took us hours because you couldn’t learn the moves.”

Your ex laughs and says, “I did learn the moves eventually though. I still remember them.”

You finish your taco and says, “I wanna see this. Show me.”

Charlie smiles and gets off the bed. He stands in front of you and starts to do the Obsessed dance from TikTok. You laugh as you watch how badly he does the dance.

“For a musician, you have no rhythm,” you tease.

He sits back down on his bed with a sigh as he says, “For a small person, you eat a lot. I don’t know where it goes.”

With a laugh, you say, “I have no idea where it all goes either.”

It feels nice to laugh and talk with Charlie. Neither of you have spoken to each other since you broke up in late 2019. Just seeing him again has made you really happy. You didn’t think you’d see him again. He’s still his crazy self that he was years ago.

Both of you finish and you sit back against the headboard of your bed with a pillow behind you. You’re watching and laughing with Friends even though you’ve seen this episode a thousand times.

Charlie sudden asks, “Do you remember why we broke up?”

You look over at Charlie, who’s laying in the same position that you are, and say, “We just grew apart after high school. You moved down here part time after you graduated and I still had a few months left.” Charlie graduated early, you still had six months left. You were 17 when you and Charlie started dating at the beginning of your senior year of high school. He had just turned 17 right before the school year started. You were 20 when the relationship ended and Charlie was just about to turn 21. It wasn’t quite three years when you broke up but it was close.

He says, “I tried to make it work with us, Y/N. You know that right? Between living down here and acting, I did try.”

“I know you did,” you tell him, sitting up and looking at him. “It just got tough for both of us. We ended things on good terms.”

Charlie nods and says, “We did.”

You blink and ask, “What have you been doing since we broke up? Focusing on music, I hope.”

With a little laugh, he says, “I was on Netflix.”

Almost surprised, you say, “I didn’t know you were on Netflix, Charlie! That’s incredible. Was it a show or movie?”

“A show,” he says. “It’s called Julie and the Phantoms. We’re still waiting to be picked up for a second season but we trending in the top ten for a little bit on there after the show dropped in September last year.” Charlie tells you all about his time on set. He tells you about the show too, and you’re happy to hear that he was able to do two of the things he loves to do while being on the show.

You smile and ask, “Can I hear a song from the show? I know you have a guitar somewhere in this room. You never go anywhere without one.”

Charlie laughs and says, “You’re right.” He gets up and opens the closet door, pulling out a guitar he has stashed away in there. You laugh and shake your head. You know him too well sometimes.

He sits at the end of your bed and you cross your legs, looking at him. He pulls the guitar out of it’s case and he grabs a pick. He tunes the guitar before he looks at you.

“The song I’m about to play is song I wrote with my co-star, Madi,” he says. “It’s called Perfect Harmony. I may or may not have been kind of thinking of you when coming up with the lyrics.”

You smile and say, “Awe, I didn’t know you were such a romantic, Charlie.”

A laugh leaves Charlie’s lips as he begins to play the chords.

Step into my world Bittersweet love story about a girl Shook me to the core Voice like an angel, I've never heard before

As he plays, you sway to the music. You smile, having always enjoyed hearing his voice and watching him play guitar. He’d spend hours practicing or writing songs and you’d sit outside whatever room he was in or sit beside him while he sang and played.

Charlie looks at you occasionally as he plays, almost like he’s singing to you.

You set me free You and me together is more than chemistry Love me as I am I'll hold your music here inside my hands

You watch him intently, the smile never leaving your face as he plays. Hearing his voice again makes you so happy.

I feel your rhythm in my heart, yeah-yeah You are my brightest, burning star, woah-woah I never knew a love so real (So real) We're heaven on earth, melody and words

As he finishes up the song, you stop swaying and you look at him. Charlie finishes and he looks at you. He laughs a bit and says, “And that’s Perfect Harmony.”

“It’s beautiful,” you tell him. “And I’m not just saying that because you kind of wrote the song while thinking about me. I think it’s really good, Charlie. You’re so talented.”

Charlie’s face gets a little flustered and he says, “I’m just decent at guitar and decent at singing.”

You say, “You wouldn’t have landed a huge Netflix role if you weren’t crazy talented, Charlie. You know that right?”

He packs up his guitar and says, “You don’t have to lie to me like we’re still dating, Y/N.” Charlie gets up and puts his guitar back in the closet he took it about from. You get up and walk over to him.

When he turns around, he jumps a bit, startled that you were right there. You stare up at him and say, “I’m telling you right now that you are insanely talented. I’m face to face with you now so you can’t tell me that I’m lying.”

After a moment of staring up into Charlie’s eyes, he takes a step toward you. Your heart begins to race in your chest and you take a deep breath. You feel his fingers touch your hand and butterflies erupt in your belly. His callused fingers intertwine with yours and you gasp.

“Can I kiss you?” Charlie suddenly asks.

You nod slowly, tilting your head up. It’s been so long since Charlie’s kissed you, and you always loved his kisses. Whenever you were upset, he’d kiss your forehead or your cheek or your neck and you’d feel better almost immediately.

Charlie’s free hand comes up to your face, cupping your cheek. He leans down and ghosts his lips over yours hesitantly. You lean your head up as Charlie becomes more sure and crashes his lips to yours. You gasp softly before kissing him back. The kiss is slow and soft as you both take in the moment.

In the two years apart, you’ve never lost feelings for Charlie. You tried to date but it never worked out because you never were able to get over the only man you ever really loved. Being able to hold his hand and kiss him again feels heavenly.

Both of you stand like this for a few moments before you pull back, looking up at Charlie. He looks down at you and asks, “How long will you be in Los Angeles?”

You say, “I’m moving into my new apartment tomorrow. I just flew in a day early.”

He smiles and asks, “So you’re here permanently?”

“I’m here permanently,” you say, smiling. “So if you’re willing to try the relationship thing again then-”

Charlie cuts you off with another kiss, this one rougher than the last. You laugh as Charlie pulls back, saying, “Are you kidding? I’d love to try the relationship thing again. The only reason I’m staying with my friend is because I’m looking for a new apartment too.”

With a huge smile on both your faces, you wrap your arms around Charlie’s neck. You hug him tight and say, “Looks like we ended up finding our way back to each other.”

“Thank God,” Charlie says against your ear. You laugh.

You spend the night wrapped around Charlie in some way until you begin to fall asleep.

As you doze off to sleep, you hear Charlie begin to sing softly.

The truth is finally breaking through Two worlds collide when I'm with you Our voices rise and soar so high We come to life when we're In perfect harmony

A smile forms on your face as you snuggle against Charlie’s side, falling asleep in his arms.

#charlie gillespie imagine #charlie gillespie fluff #charlie gillespie x oc #charlie gillespie x reader #charlie gillespie x y/n #julie and the phantoms imagines #jatp imagines #jatp imagine #fluff imagines #imagines #imagine #fluff #fluffy

[whitleyschn33]

Color in RWBY’s Designs

I’ve been trying to reblog this post for a good 10 minutes, and Tumblr just refuses to let me, and I don’t think I’m blocked, so @strqyr​ , have a reply

...

Okay, ignoring the out-of-left-field (hah) pivot to politics that cropped up in the comments -

I’m not an artist, but I do follow a few that discuss character design and have attempted some recolors myself, and when it comes to the various designs and colors of the RWBY girls, it’s not so much about the in-universe importance of color, it’s about the more meta principles of character design. Once again, I’m not the most qualified person to talk about this, so excuse me if I get something wrong or ramble.

In visual mediums, a character’s design, more specifically their silhouette and their colors, is what makes them stand out and memorable to an audience; in a lot of cartoons and anime, you’ll likely be able to recognize characters by their designs long before you remember their names, and even if you don’t know their names, seeing the silhouette or even color palette of that character can bring their image to your mind. For example, I haven’t seen an episode of Sailor Moon in my life, but show me Usagi’s silhouette, and I can tell you exactly who that is. I can show you this, and I would bet that 99% of you can tell me what character this is meant to represent despite it literally just being 5 rectangles.

(On a slight tangent, in action shows, colors and the smart placement there-of are doubly important, as they help with keeping track of a character as they move through a cluttered environment and interact with other characters, and keep track of how they move their bodies in that space. To use a specific example from RWBY itself, check out the Nevermore fight from Volume 1 - despite all the debris flying around the screen and the amount of wide shots, it’s easy to keep track of how the characters move around the screen. Yang’s gauntlets help direct your eyes to her punches, and the splash of red in Weiss’s collar makes sure she doesn’t turn into a white blob moving around the screen.)

RWBY specifically is a show that quite literally advertised itself and its character on the premise of color. The show is named not just after the main characters, but the main characters’ colors. The first trailers were the Red, White, Black, and Yellow trailers. Their original designs, while of course using other colors in the palettes, give an overall impression of red, white, black, and yellow, making the characters pop against the stark black, red, and white backgrounds of the trailers, as well as stand out against the background characters that were literally empty black voids of silhouettes. Their initial character designs are tied completely to them representing a specific color, and this color gimmick also makes the girls stand out as characters. Ruby’s red cloak and ruffles, Weiss’s white side ponytail and dress, Blake’s black bow and tuxedo vest, and Yang’s fiery yellow hair and gauntlets are instantly recognizable from a glance, and that’s a sign of good design that makes them distinct.

So, when you get to the later volumes and suddenly the characters are wearing less and less of their original, iconic colors on top of getting new silhouettes, it makes them start looking less and less recognizable as the characters they were originally designed to be, and more like completely different characters. Lets look at Blake and Weiss as an example. If you’d never seen RWBY, could you tell me if these were the same characters?

Alright, let’s fill in the details.

They look like two completely different pairs of characters. It’s not even the clothes themselves, but the colors and shapes of their clothes combined with the radically different hairstyles make the V7 designs look very much unlike the original designs. The girls got alternate outfits in V2, but they all fit the general silhouettes and color schemes of their typical outfits, and were still very much recognizable as the main team, just with new clothes. Such a drastic shift in what types of clothes and the colors they wear in V7, on the other hand, makes them look like different character designs. If you’re going to change what a character is wearing to something very different, keeping the colors consistent helps with keeping them recognizable as the character they are.

Now, changing the design of your character beyond the specific clothes they wear isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Characters change as they progress through a story, and in visual media, changes to character design can be used to signify how they’re changing or how they’re reacting to their environment and new situations. For example, in the S2 premire of Avatar, Zuko cuts off his distinguishing topknot to represent his fall from a Fire Nation prince to an outlaw on the run, and in season 3, the GAang don red Fire Nation clothes as a disguise, ditching their usual blue, orange, and green clothing. In the Owl House, Amity dyes her hair purple to represent her making her own choices rather than letting her family control her life (and I picked this up from gif sets, without having even seen the show). Design changes, even to hair and color, can be used to represent change - and RWBY has managed to do this fairly well in the past! For example, Weiss’s V4 design is very different from her original design - her sleeves and collar are tight rather than poofy, her colors are muted and overrun with greys and blues, her whites are mostly hidden and her red is nowhere to be seen. This works, though, because it represents Weiss’s current situation - she’s being controlled by her father, her individuality represented by her whites and reds being driven out, and her dress is mostly tight against her wrists and neck, like shackles and being chocked. It’s a good way of showing a character’s changed situation, while keeping her recognizable from her side ponytail and poofy skirt remaining the same.

The latest redesigns of Team RWBY, however, don’t do this. They change radically, in color, hair, and clothing shape, and there’s no clear reason why. Why do they change how they look so drastically? What prompted them to style their hair so differently, to cut it so short? Why have they decided to choose different colors to wear? To circle back to the initial post, what part of their character development has changed them from the color they were representing to the color they’re now representing?

For more specific question/examples - what prompted Blake to cover herself in a heavy white coat in V4, when she was heading to a tropical island to recover? Why does she wear a bright white coat for official Huntress business when she’s meant to be a ninja? Why does she cut her hair so short? Why does Weiss cover herself in blues and greys in V7 when blues and greys were used to show her unhappiness and imprisonment by Jacques, rather than returning to lots of whites? Why does she go from a sleek ponytail to a thick heavy braid? Why does Ruby replace her cape and start styling her hair differently? Why does she go from a poofy skirt with ruffles to a very sleek, low volume skirt? Why does Yang not wear any yellow anymore? Why do none of them seem to wear anything suited for the cold? None of these questions have real answers. We can speculate all day, but at the end, that would still just be speculation.

Why does Lillie in Pokemon change her hair and clothes? To prove that she’s not just something for her mother to control and dress up to her ideal of beauty; that Lillie can make her own choices and is ready to stand on her own two feet and do what needs to be done, rather than relying on Repels and the player character.

Why does Blake cut her hair and start wearing so much white? ....

Why does Persona 5′s Akechi’s palette switch from bright white, reds, and golds to dark blacks and purples? To show the tearing down of the Detective Prince façade to the true darkness underneath.

Why does Weiss start wearing so many dark blues and greys? ....

I could go on, but I think I’ve made my point. Things just change on RWBY, key aspects of their designs like their hair and colors, and for the most part, there just seems to be no reason given to change. I’m not saying things like colors can never change, clearly they can, but for character design, especially in a show so heavily focused on colors and how characters are represented by their colors, it’s not a thing that should be taken lightly; if a character has grown so dramatically that the manner in which they express themselves as a character has changed, like the original poster is implying it can, it should be clear to see why this character has changed in this manner.

Without a good reason for it to change, it feels unnatural, like the character isn’t the same character - so when RWBY’s colors seem to be changing without good reason, creating designs that don’t look right for the character they’re meant to be in the situations they’re meant to be in, it causes people to want to revert back to the original palettes. Not because they’re denying individuality of the characters, but because the characters are no longer designed like the individuals they once were, and artists want to bring that individuality and striking design back through the use of the colors these characters use to define themselves.

#rwby #art #long post #please my more artistic mutuals #please correct me if i'm wrong #i'm not an artist

[inlovewithhisblueeyes]

Stuck in Your Head

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Reader

Word Count: ~2.7K

Warnings: Descriptive Depressive Episode and Discussions about Prescription Medications (specifically missing doses and having side effects)

A/N: This is my first time writing RPF so I decided to stick with something I know well. I substituted my own best friend’s name in so I didn’t have to deal with the pesky acronyms cluttering the story. 

Buried underneath the covers, you were safe even though sleep continued to elude you. The chill of the morning was unable to pierce the walls of your blanket fortress. While the soft pitter-pattering of rain on your window would normally be able to lull you to dreamland, you were left to watch the rise and fall of the fabric.

Early daylight had danced its way across the room a millennia ago. No matter how deep you burrowed into your little nest, the light would seep through. So you tucked your head underneath your pillow and fought the urge to continuously check your phone. Watching time tick past would only make these growing frustrations and anxieties worse.

You remained curled up with your knees close to your chest, willing your hands to stop their shaking. All those exercises you had been taught in therapy seemed fruitless. Nothing could alleviate this numbness that had settled in your bones. Time continued to pass as you laid there, only daring to leave your bed’s warm embrace when your bladder was screaming in agony.

The spot where you laid never had to the time to cool. You were always sucked right back to it in record time like every episode before. Brain fog would cause the same thing every time. The days would seem to just blend into one another, a cycle of light and shadows that would chase each other around the ceiling. You would have no idea if you took your meds, what day it was, or even the last time you ate. Time would be nonexistent in your little blanketed world.

A soft vzzzzt came from outside your safe zone. Moving your hand slightly, you could just barely feel the vibrations of your phone. You paused as you tried to decide if you had enough energy to answer. It was most likely unimportant, another robocall about some silly matter. Sighing heavily, you drew your hand back to its previous position.

Silence fell over the room once more and you breathed a sigh of relief. You forced your eyes shut in hopes that you could finally sleep. Not more than a few moments passed before the quiet was broken yet again. The soft vzzzzt returned, requiring you to begrudgingly open your eyes. You hissed as you slowly rolled over, just enough to reach over and drag your phone under the covers with you.

You flipped your phone over as your best friend’s face filled up the screen. You know you should answer it, but you didn’t want to worry her. Ariel has enough going on without you dragging her into your shit. You quickly shot off one of those automated responses saying you’re busy and you’ll call back later before declining the call.

Carefully shoving your phone back out from under your blanket pile, you tried once more to adjust and get comfy. Finally, it seemed that the sleep you craved is upon you. You yawned before nestling your head deeper into your pillow and letting your eyes fall shut.

You woke up sometime later and noticed that the bedroom is almost completely dark. You dare to glance at your phone and it’s only 6 pm. Stiff limbs quickly made themselves known as you tried to stretch. They crack and pop as you finally moved them, each crying out desperately for motion.

Slowly you sit up and allow yourself to slip out from your burrito. Every movement feels as if you’re wading through an endless pool of molasses. You rise to feet carefully and your knees buckle as they wake up to support you. Ambling towards the kitchen, you tried to scrounge up the desire for anything other than a few mints.

Your pickings are rather slim. Even then everything would take longer than you know you have the energy to stand for. Huffing as you grabbed handful of mints before you make your back to bed. You crawled back into bed, grabbing your laptop in hopes you can find someway to pass the next round of sleepless.

Popping a mint in your mouth and scrolling through the various entertainment options, you happened across a show you know very well. Another time you might have smiled at your luck. Of course it recommends something that he was in. Rolling over to grab your phone, you unlock it to check what time it is over there.

2 am the clock answered. You swallowed the lump in your throat, remembering what he said last time.

“I don’t care what time it is. If you need me, call. I’d do anything for you. “

You glance at the clock once more and you lose your nerve.

“He’s halfway across the world right now and under enough stress. You’ll talk to him again when Friday comes around” you rationalize internally, “That’s more than 3 days away. You’ll be back to your usual by then. You always are.”

You shake your head and push the phone off the bed. Tucking an arm under your head and curling your knees to your chest, placing your laptop on top of them. You settle in with Forensic Files, hoping that Peter Thomas’s voice will eventually get you more sleep.

Sleep doesn’t come. You’ve lost count of how many episodes of Forensic Files that you’ve watched. All of them have blurred together. Once again the sun’s rays slowly painted your room in an array of reds, oranges, and finally yellows. Two more rounds of soft vzzzzt that go unanswered cause you to retreat back under the blankets once more.

For how long you remain there is unknown. All you known is that you’re forced to get up by your throbbing bladder. Then you’re back in your bed, curled up around a pillow and begging for sleep to come. Your body is sore, your mind is all fogged up, and by the time you do feel sleepy, the sun must be high in the sky.

Here's to another day of waking up after the sun has set. Daylight Savings Time is a bitch. There’s no use in checking your phone. You stretched and tried to sum up the strength to move your feet, knowing you need to at least try to make your way to the kitchen. Each step causes a shooting pain in your underused appendages.

Leaning against the counter, you grabbed a package of Cup Ramen from the cabinet. Not the healthiest choice, but the one that will take the shortest amount of time to cook. Adding the water and setting it in the microwave is the easiest part; having the strength to wait the 3 minutes to cook is the hardest.

Anxiety seeps in as you watched the timer go down. Tapping your fingers against your thigh, you tried to pass the time without throwing yourself into an anxiety attack. Finally, the microwave beeps and you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. You opened the microwave and quickly stirred the contents of the cup together.

You make the trip back to the bed that’s been calling your name since you left. Although you’re not hungry, you have to try to eat. You ate earlier right?....Your stomach hadn’t give any indication of hunger. You ate as much as you could stomach before leaving the unfinished meal beside your bed.

Grabbing your laptop, you scrolled through for something, anything to distract you. In a moment of clarity, you remembered that last time he mentioned a nature documentary which he said you should watch. You found it easily and turned it on, curling your body around your laptop. In your bones, the numbness reared it’s ugly head once more.

The animals in documentary didn’t cause you to laugh at their antics like they usually would. You had to pause it. You felt like you were drowning in this void. What once might have been enough to drag you out of the darkness, no longer could do so. You had been doing so well; going to your appointments and working on coping with your trauma only for the empty pit to gobble you up once more.

Screwing your eyes shut as you take in one shaky breath after the other. Whatever strength that was left in your tired limbs, you willed to help get you through. You needed to be fine, he needed you to be fine. Every inch of you shook with hurt and sorrow as sleep waded in and out of your mind. It took forever to succumb.

A gentle chime woke you from your fitful sleep. You laid underneath your mountain of blankets and watched the gentle rise and fall that came with every breath you took. You blinked a few times as you attempted to stretch out your body. The chime had stopped by the time you were finally able to peak your head from where it was tangled in your cocoon.

The noise had emanated from your laptop. You inwardly curses yourself because you only know what that means. You left yourself logged into Skype and you reached a hand over to check who called. However, as soon as you did, the chime started up again, his name flashed on your screen.

A sob threatened to break loose from your lips.  It couldn’t have been Friday already. Skype dates only happened on Friday and Saturdays, that was your routine. You glanced around your room and contemplated slamming your laptop closed. Based on the colors of the sun that painted your bedroom’s walls, it was early, much too early for his call.

Deep down you knew he would keep calling until you responded and as much as it pained you to do so, you had to give into him. You moved the cursor to hover over the accept button. With a deep breath, you clicked accept. You waited for the swoosh that always came before his face filled the screen.

You couldn’t face him like this. He didn’t deserve this. Your stomach was already upset, it didn’t need your anxiety making it worse. Burying your face in your hands, you heard the tell-tale noise that the call connected.

“Darling, there you are,” he exclaimed.

You had no choice but to peek between your fingers to see his smiling face. He looked so happy and full of light. You couldn’t dare to bring him down from his high. He was worthy of so much more, someone who wasn’t empty. Surely he could see that.

“As much as I’d love to talk your lovely hands, I’d rather talk to that face of yours.”

“Hen-“ Your voice cracked from not being used in so long.

“Please,” He begged.

Every inch of your body quaked, the inevitable was here. He would see you, see how broken and lost you were, and wouldn’t be able to take it. The expiration date for your time together was today.

“Please, sweetheart.” He tried again, his voice no louder than a whisper.

You shook your head in silent agreement to his plea. Trembling, your hands pealed away from your face and finally you saw your boyfriend’s face fully. Messy curls were strewn across his forehead and there was an inkling of stubble making an appearance on his face. His eyes were bright and warm as always. You could just barely make out the brown amongst the blue at the top of his left eye.

“There you are,” Henry murmured, his voice dropping an octave.

“Hen-“

“Shhhh... I know it’s not Friday but I wanted to see you. Ariel was worried. I was worried.”

“I’m so sorry-” You started as you felt tears beginning to form in the corners of your eyes.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about, love. I’m happy to see your face. I would ask how you are, but I think I know. Have you been taking your meds?”

“I don’t remember. All I know my stomach is a bit upset,” you whispered as the first hot tears rolled down your cheeks.

“I’d reckon it’s been a few days then,” Henry sighed, ”Do you think could get up and make some green tea? That’s always helped in the past.”

You groaned, flopping backwards onto your bed. A few moments pass by in silence as you weighed your options.

“I can try.”

“That’s all I’m asking for, sweetheart,” admitted the blue eyed man,” How about you bring me with you?”

You nodded slowly. Henry was always good at reading you. It seemed that regardless of the distance between the two of you and the blurriness of the camera, his skill hadn’t waned. He knew you so well and right now you were thankful for that. There was so much you couldn’t say right now, you didn’t have the energy nor the clarity to do so.

Stretching your arms above your head, you winced at the stiffness in them. You had to do this, you had to fight that little voice in your head. You carefully moved yourself to the edge the bed. Taking a much needed deep breath, you forced your aching body to sit up. Gently, after a few moments, you maneuvered yourself to stand on your feet.

You glanced over at your computer screen and saw nothing but pride and encouragement in his blue eyes. It gave you the required push to grab your laptop and make your way towards the kitchen, tired body be damned. Normally, you feel safe and content in the silence with him. The freezing emptiness that had made it’s home amongst your bones and mortal flesh flourished in it.

“How’s filming going?” You croaked.

Henry was quick to fill the crushing silence “Remember that scene I mentioned to you last time…” His hearty timbre warming the outermost parts of your mind. Puttering around the kitchen, you put the kettle on and grabbed your favorite mug while listening. He could be speaking about blue-footed boobies and you would still be rapt.

Sooner than you would of liked, the kettle sung it’s annoying little tune. Carefully, you snatched it off the stove and poured into the waiting mug. You dropped the teabag in and leaned up against the counter. Glancing over at the computer, you saw Henry watching you with a smile on his face.

“Good job, sweetheart,” Henry beamed.

You tried to blink away the tears that remained in your eyes. “I boiled water. Nothing too special about that.”

“You know what I mean.”

Shakily setting the down the mug, you forced yourself to take some deep breaths, but it does nothing to stop the onslaught of tears. They blazed in hot trails down your cheeks.

“My brain doesn’t work, Hen. The fog sets in and it’s like I can’t do the simplest tasks. I can’t even just go through the motions,” You sobbed

“Oh, darling,” his voice barely a whisper and your gaze remained on the floor, arms wrapped around your quaking form.

“Nothing’s working…. I’m so tired of feeling like this. I don’t even feel alive anymore. Just empty and cold all the time.”

Silence fell over the two of you once again; only being pierced by your shuddering breaths as you tried regain control. It took a few moments to calm yourself. You brushed away the remaining tears and finally glance up at him.

“I’m sorry,” You murmured.

“Sweetheart, you don’t need to apologize. I know you’re struggling. I’m worried about you being all alone right now with everything that’s going on,” Henry admitted,” How about you ask Ariel to come stay with you? Just until I finish filming.”

“I…I can do that.”

“I want you to know you don’t have to stick to our schedule. I know you like the consistency it brings, but I don’t mind if you call other times, love. I’d be happy to hear your voice more often.”

Nodding your head, you grabbed your abandoned tea and took a sip. “I love you, Henry.”

“I love you too. We’re in this together, us against the problem.”

Somehow his words seemed to pierce at the remaining chill in your body. He was exactly what you needed, your lighthouse in the storm. No matter how far apart you may be, you’ll always find your way back to his loving embrace.

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