#decibel anon

[section-chief-prentiss]

Love Story Part Two

PART ONE 

Note: Thank you to the kind anon who suggested this; I had so much fun writing it! I hope you enjoy! 

Summary: Follow-up to “Love Story,” in which you and Emily tell the team you’re engaged.

Pairing: Emily Prentiss/Reader

Word Count: 1214

Ao3

Your first day back at the BAU, you and Emily wore matching black pantsuits. The only differences in your outfits were the blouses you wore underneath—Emily wore purple, and you wore red.

It hadn’t been intentional, but when you came out of the bathroom to find Emily in a variation of the outfit you had put on, you both laughed and decided to embrace it.

“Rings on or off?” you asked, admiring the sparkling band around your finger.

“On, but be subtle about it,” she winked. “Stick to the plan.”

Like so many things, your fiancee was right when she said you’d miss work by the end of your vacation.

Though seven uninterrupted days with Emily, spent either in your hotel room or on the beach, were utterly blissful, as your trip neared its end, you couldn’t help but wonder what was happening back home. Thinking about all of the people who needed your help.

On the nearly 10-hour flight back to DC, you kept yourselves preoccupied by debating how you’d tell the team about your engagement. Neither of you had told them what you’d planned, and you looked forward to surprising them.

When it came to working with profilers, surprises were difficult to come by.

“Should we see how long it takes them to notice?” you’d giggled. “Just say nothing and wait for them to see the rings?”

Emily smiled. “Tempting, but you know Spence or Pen would sniff them out immediately.”

“Mm, good point,” you conceded.

“I actually have an idea,” Emily said, wagging her eyebrows mischievously.

You leaned forward in your seat to grab her hand, “Tell me.”

“What are you thinking about?” Em asked, pulling you out of your memories.

“You,” you said, pecking a kiss against her lips. “Ready?”

Emily offered you your briefcase, holding hers in her other hand. “Don’t forget your prop.”

“Never,” you said, taking the accessory from your fiancee.

The drive to the BAU was shorter than you remembered. You were excited to reunite with your friends and tell them about your trip. Neither you nor Emily were particularly close with your families, so telling the team—your chosen family—would make the engagement feel real.

You held hands on the elevator ride to the sixth floor—your legs shook with excitement and anticipation, but holding on to your fiancee kept you steady.

When the doors parted, you half-expected to find the team waiting for you on the other side, but you were relieved to find the hallway empty.

A few steps forward revealed the team gathered around Spencer’s desk in the bullpen. You and Emily nodded at each other once, moving your briefcases to your left hands, and walked slowly to join your team.

As you approached, you both slouched to your left side, seemingly struggling with your completely empty briefcases.

Penelope was the first to spot you, grinning as soon as you made eye contact. “You’re back!”

Spencer looked up from the book he was reading and jumped to his feet, JJ standing just over his shoulder. In front of them, Rossi and Morgan turned around to face you.

Morgan, picking up on your strange walking immediately, frowned. “Why are you walking like that?”

Emily stepped in front of you. “Derek, can you help me?”

He jumped forward, reaching for Em’s briefcase, and Rossi reached for yours. You both handed off the bags and shook your shoulders out.

“I’m having a hard time lifting things with this big rock on my hand,” Emily bragged.

Just as you’d practiced, you both held up your left hands, letting the light bounce off the diamonds.

Rossi and Morgan dropped the empty bags, and Penelope was in front of you in the blink of an eye, both of her hands holding yours.

“What?” Penelope screeched at a decibel that seemed high enough to cause hearing damage.

“Surprise, we’re engaged!” You sang.

Hotch, alerted by the sudden screaming, peeked out from his office to find the team talking over each other. Frowning, he jogged down the steps into the bullpen and held up a hand.

“What’d I miss?”

“We’re engaged,” Emily said, grabbing your hand.

Hotch’s lips turned up in a rare smile. “Congratulations!”

“You have to tell us everything,” JJ insisted, taking your hand and dragging you toward the round-table room.

“Give them a chance to sit down,” Hotch called from the back of the pack. Just behind you, Spencer was dragging Emily along, and the rest of the team followed.

You took your usual seats around the round table, noting how rare it was to feel joy within these particular four walls. But you didn’t mind changing the association with the room where you spent so much of your time, and the engagement story spilled out of you, Emily filling in the gaps where her part of the story differed.

“And then Emily got down on her knees and proposed,” you said, smiling at the memory.

“And then, Y/N got down on her knees and proposed,” Emily said, leaning over to kiss your cheek.

“You proposed at the same time?” Spencer asked, glancing between you.

You nodded, and Penelope threw her hands in the air.

“Both of you proposed, and neither of you told me before you left?!”

“Pen, you’re not exactly known for your secret-keeping,” Emily hedged.

“Name one example,” she protested.

“Last month you told Henry what you were getting him for Christmas,” JJ said, crossing her arms over her chest.

Penelope flushed. “I can’t help it; I got too excited!”

That earned a laugh from the room. The group broke off into separate conversations, and JJ pulled you in for another round of questions, when something flashed in the corner of your eye, claiming your attention.

As soon as you turned your head, several of your team members threw their hands under the table, and you frowned.

“What’s going on?” you asked.

“Nothing,” Morgan said a little too quickly.

Emily squinted at the four men—Hotch, Rossi, Morgan, and Spencer—who were doing their best not to return eye contact.

Eventually, as you knew he would, Spencer broke, putting his hands on the table to reveal money in them.

“Fine, we had a bet that you’d come back from your trip engaged,” Spencer said.

“And I won, thank you very much,” Morgan winked, collecting his earnings from the other men.

Your jaw dropped, and you turned your attention to Hotch. “Hotch, you too?”

He shrugged. “It seemed like easy money. But since we all agreed you would come back engaged, the bet came down to which day you’d propose on. Morgan was closest; he guessed day one.”

“I guessed day seven,” Spencer grumbled.

“Day six,” Rossi sighed.

“Day four,” Hotch said.

Emily rolled her eyes, and you threw your hands up in frustration. “Really, guys? Is nothing sacred?”

“We have a second bet going about how long before you get married; you want in?” Spencer asked.

“No!” you said.

But next to you, your fiancee said, “Yeah!” at the same time.

You turned to her with one eyebrow raised.

“Really, Emily?”

“Why not?” She laughed.

“Actually, I’ll take that bet,” JJ said.

“Me too!” Pen added.

The room looked at you expectantly, and you knew that you wouldn’t win this battle, so you sighed.

“Fine, I’m in.”

Tag List: @yena-reyna, @propertyofemilyprentiss, @chaekhan Join my tag list!

#criminal minds #fanfiction #emily prentiss #paget brewster #pagetbrewster #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #emily prentiss x reader

[bro-atz]

that sumin fic was crazy af i’m obsessed w your writing… could we possibly get a university au w music composition major minjae x f!reader?? and w some smut in there too pls thinking a lot abt rapper minjae being good w his tongue akdjjsjsjsj

the theory of music

in which: there's a rumor about minjae that you want to find out more about.

pair: uni student!minjae/uni student!afab!reader

word count: 3.4k

content: college!au, smut, heavy sexual tension, oral sex, completely consensual!

author's note: you wanna know what's crazy anon? i know someone like this irl HAHAH nd he's truly one of my favorite people (if i ignore the fact that he had a threesome in my living room once but that a story for a diff day) but yes this is something i can def do and just did for you (^з^)-♡♥︎♡ seriously tho im glad you requested this bc i wanted to make a lil series for xikers so this was perf

tag list: @eyeryis @sinnarols apply for the permanent taglist here! university!series: sumin, minjae, junmin, hyunwoo

You weren’t one for parties, especially rooftop parties. You only went to this specific rooftop party because it was your friend’s roommate’s birthday, and she promised you that it was going to be lowkey and fun when it was anything but. Yet, you had a good time— when the company is good, why wouldn’t everything else be good? Some kids were still yakking off the roof while others were getting completely stoned or crossed, but the ones that were still somewhat coherent were cool. There was one person in particular that you were drawn to the most, not because you were attracted to him (although he was very attractive, you’ll give him that), but because the air around him was so calming and he seemed to vibe with literally everyone.

“Him? That’s Minjae,” Junmin, one of the boys you were talking to at the party, told you when you asked. “How do you not know Minjae?”

“I mean… It’s my first time seeing him—”

“Still, he’s infamous at these parties.”

“This is my first time at one of these rooftop parties. Cut me some slack, Junmin.”

“Well, I’d just warn you and say don’t get too close,” Junmin brought his voice down and said ominously.

“Why do you say that?” you matched his decibel, clearly not taking him seriously.

“He’s… A character. Kind of loose. I mean, you see how many girls go swarming to him. It happens all the time, and it happens for a reason”

“Dude, I’m not looking to fuck him. I just want to befriend the guy, is all.”

“That’s what they all say,” Junmin sighed loudly. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Heard loud and clear.”

You wanted to defy Junmin, but he was just so sinister with informing you about Minjae that you dropped the idea of befriending the guy in general. You spent the rest of the party interacting with other people, completely unaware that Minjae’s gaze kept flickering to you every so often.

You saw Minjae again at Junmin’s rooftop party, but you paid no mind to him. This time, you steered clear of him because he was surrounded by a bunch of girls— girls that definitely were not at the party you were at the other night. You knew after what Junmin said that Minjae was a popular guy, but it didn’t fully register in your head until that moment. Maybe it was his soft, brown hair that spilled over his face and gave his eyes a mysterious charm that made the girls fall for him, or maybe it was his irresistible smile and laugh. Whatever it was, there was just something about him that drew girls to him like a moth to a flame.

You kept to yourself for the most part during Junmin’s party. Junmin was running around the rooftop trying to make sure his friends didn’t fall over the balcony or throw up anywhere that wasn’t a toilet— honestly, seeing him scramble all over the place did not make you jealous in the slightest. If anything, it was entertaining to see him break a sweat and make sure the party didn’t completely fall apart.

While you were observing Junmin, you didn’t realize that Minjae actually approached you and stood right next to you with every intention to flirt with the one girl at the party that wasn’t all over him.

“Hey,” you heard him speak into your ear, startling you completely.

“What the— Oh?” you were fully prepared to fight whoever it was that scared you, but when you saw Minjae’s beautiful face super close to yours, you short-circuited. “H-hello…”

He held his hand out for you to shake.

“Minjae.”

You nearly said “I know” in response, but you choked back that first instinct. You shook his hand.

“Y/N.”

There was a beat of silence. Honestly, you didn’t know what to say to him because Junmin truly scared the shit out of you, so the only questions on your mind was just to inquire about his reputation.

“You know, I saw you at the last party and wondered who you were because I’ve never seen you at any of these parties,” Minjae said, trying to continue the conversation.

“Yeah, I’m not really a party person,” you admitted.

“But you’re here at this one?”

“Because Junmin invited me.”

“What about the last one?”

“My friend invited me since it was her roommate’s birthday.”

“Oh, okay that makes sense.”

Minjae nodded and smiled at you, making you feel slightly guilty that your impression of him was so tarnished thanks to your own assumptions. He ended up getting more words out of you and got you comfortable enough to have very candid conversations about everything. He had a very complex view on the world that you resonated with, and it made you want to know more about him. There was definitely a deeper side of him that he was hiding, and you wanted to find it.

You were so engrossed in your conversation with him that you didn’t realize how much time had passed and that most of the party had cleared out until Junmin approached you and Minjae, his hair and clothes completely disheveled.

“I appreciate you both so much, but I’m going to have to ask you both to go the fuck home,” Junmin said with a heavy sigh.

You checked your phone and saw many, many missed calls from your roommate, and you also saw that it was four in the morning.

“Damn, it’s already this late? Sorry, Junmin,” you apologized.

“We’ll leave now,” Minjae added.

We? You looked at Minjae with slight confusion.

“Thanks. Get home safe— And, Y/N, text me when you get home,” Junmin instructed.

“Ow, you don’t want to know if I got home?” Minjae asked feigning hurt.

“You’ll be fine,” Junmin rolled his eyes and pushed Minjae away. “Get out.”

You and Minjae left Junmin’s apartment building, and before you could bid adieu and head home, Minjae asked, “What direction are you headed in?”

“There,” you pointed.

“I’ll walk you home,” Minjae stated.

You eyed Minjae suspiciously, wondering if he had any other intentions by walking you home. Deciphering your look, he held his hands up and said, “No, I just want to make sure you get home safe, too. It’s four in the morning, and you are a woman after all.”

You were still not convinced of his intentions. It was only when he held out his pinky and looked at you with the most sincerest of eyes did you cave and let him walk you home.

During your walk, you both continued to have a deep discussion about the world to the point where you didn’t even realize that you had already gotten back to your dorm. Before you went inside, Minjae stopped you.

“Wait, I have a question for you.”

“What is it?”

“If I invited you to one of my parties, would you come?”

You briefly pondered the thought before nodding. He grinned at you then held out his phone. “I’ll text you the next time I throw one,” he said.

You gave him your number, and with that, you both parted ways.

You seriously wondered why Junmin told you to avoid Minjae in the first place. He didn’t seem so bad.

You and Minjae became friends since the night you exchanged numbers. Not once did you feel like Minjae was trying to get into your pants or anything—especially because he mostly texted you— making you doubt Junmin’s explanation of the guy more and more. When you asked Junmin, he refused to elaborate on it further, so you had to settle for a shrug and acceptance that Junmin was probably just really wrong about Minjae.

you:

what’re you doing rn?”

You ended up texting Minjae right in the middle of class one fine day. You shouldn’t have been on your phone, but the class was such a drag that you desperately needed the distraction.

minjae:

studio why

you:

ah okay nah i was just bored is all

minjae:

you can come to the studio if you want

you:

yeah? you sure?

And immediately, Minjae sent you an address along with a room number— it was one of the buildings on campus, but you had no idea which one it was until you got there. It was the music building on campus, also known as a building you’ve never entered on campus and never thought you would enter because you were not in the music composition major. You were nervous as hell the entire time you were making your way to the studio that Minjae was in until you saw him down the hall, half his body out the door as he looked and waited for you.

You had never seen any sort of music studio before, and were honestly quite surprised to see that your school had such a professional one— well, multiple professional ones since the entire hall you walked down was filled with studios— readily available on campus. It was completely soundproof inside, and it was also dark as hell in there. There were no windows or anything. Just a room, a chair, a computer, a monitor, a bunch of keyboards, and an audio mixer.

“I thought this was a recording studio?” you questioned.

“This is the mixing studio. So if we don’t have to record vocals or instruments and just need digital, we can use this room,” Minjae explained.

“Oh…”

“Want to listen?”

“Sure.”

Minjae let you have a seat in the singular chair in the room and gave you the headphones. As soon as you were comfortable, he played the song for you. It was upbeat, but also melancholic in a way. You found yourself nodding along to the beat of the song the more you listened, and when the song ended, you were amazed but also confused because that was super short.

“This is really good,” you told the boy as you handed the headphones back.

“Yeah, but it’s still not done. I only played you the intro into the first chorus since that’s all I got right now,” he said with a tiny sigh.

“Still, what you have so far is so good. I can’t wait to hear the whole song now.”

With a small smile, Minjae reclaimed his seat, leaving you standing. You looked around, trying to find a place to sit, but the only place to sit was the singular chair in the room that Minjae was using.

“I’ll head out then, leave you to it,” you told the boy as you reached for the door handle.

“Honestly, you can stay if you’d like,” Minjae said without tearing his eyes away from the screen.

“Won’t it be weird if I’m just sitting on the ground in the corner?”

“What? You can sit in the chair with me.”

You eyed the chair, then looked at Minjae skeptically. “You really think that we’ll both fit in the chair?”

“Yeah, the arms come up. See,” Minjae said as he proceeded to demonstrate— and they did.

You somehow found yourself sitting on one edge of the chair while Minjae sat on the other. You though he would be uncomfortable working like that, but he seemed perfectly fine and completely focused on his work. You tried to keep your eyes on the screen, but for some reason, your eyes kept straying towards the boy.

Minjae was very attractive usually, but he was absolutely breathtaking from the side. His chin was tilted upwards since the monitor was on an elevated desk, so you got the best view of his jawline. He unconsciously licked his lower lip as he clicked on the screen, and he bit his lower lip while he focus, the mere acts send flashes of heat through your body.

He usually looked like a very soft, very cuddly boy, but this version of Minjae you got to see was incredibly sexy— unbelievably and unbearably sexy. He was so immersed in his work that he just oozed charisma, and the way his arms would subtly flex when he moved the mouse around or clicked or typed made you pay more attention to the way he was built— so much attention that you started wondering what he looked like underneath since his arms were pretty muscular.

It was only when he turned his head to look at you did you suddenly snap out of your daydream. You looked right at the monitor thinking you barely avoided Minjae noticing you staring, but he noticed well before he even turned to look at you. In fact, he felt you staring him down, and despite the fact that he was playing the song, he heard you gulp the building pool of saliva in your mouth. Plus, it did not help your case that your face and ears were reddening slowly.

“Y/N,” Minjae said, nearly startling you out of your skin.

“Y-yeah?”

“You good?”

“Y-yeah…”

“You sure?”

You were going to respond with another yeah, but the words got stuck in the back of your throat when you felt his hand on your thigh, his hand rubbing inwards ever so slowly. Butterflies rampaged through your entire body when you felt his burning touch, the impure thoughts in your head getting dirtier by the second.

“You know, if you wanted, you could just ask.”

“What’re you talking about?” you deflected while trying to reclaim your thigh from him; but, you were unsuccessful, and he ended up moving his hand along your thigh, closer to your crotch. “Okay! Okay, I know, what you mean!”

“I can help you relieve that tension right now if you’d like.”

“Right now? In here?”

Minjae nodded.

“Are you insane?! In here?! What the fuck?!”

“Got a problem with that?”

“A bunch!” your voice nearly shrilled. “Aren’t there cameras? What if someone walks in? And—”

“No one will come in here since you need to have the key card to get in, and there are no cameras in here.”

“Still, but…”

You tried to find more reasons to object to having sex in the studio, but when his hand reached for your face and his fingers held your chin, your mind melted. He brought your face closer to his, and your eyes fluttered close when he brought his lips towards yours, but he stopped, his lips mere millimeters from yours.

“Is it because you don��t want to do this with me, or because you’re just nervous about the location?”

“…The latter.”

“If that’s the case, then don’t worry about it.”

“How a can I not worry about it when that’s all I’ll be thinking about?”

“Then I’ll fuck you so hard that you won’t even be able to think.”

Without a second to lose, Minjae’s lips were on yours. You didn’t think he was going to be so intense with you right off the bat, but when his tongue pushed into your mouth, you were completely taken aback. You leaned into him and held onto his shoulders when you felt his hands move down to your waist. His fingers slipped under your shirt and tiptoed their way up, leaving goosebumps in their wake. When his hands went over your breasts and started massaging over your bra painfully well, your grip on him tightened, and you pushed yourself further into his chest, a slight moan leaving your lips. You for sure thought Minjae was going to laugh at your reaction to his touch, but he was so intently focused on you that he was just eating up every single noise that escaped your soul.

You whimpered and whined slightly when his lips left yours, a thin string of saliva barely connecting his tongue to yours before being broken the second he brought his lips to your neck and started sucking lightly on your skin. His hands held the bottom of your shirt and pulled it upwards, your bra getting pushed up shortly thereafter. You flung your head back and let out a gasp mixed with a sigh when he started sucking on your nipple, his teeth nibbling slightly as he did so. He pinched and twisted your other nipple, sending shocks down your spine.

Next thing you knew, you were fully naked and sitting all by yourself on the swivel chair, the arm rests down for you to grip. Minjae lifted one of your legs and set it over his shoulder as he pushed the other to the side to fully reveal your soaking wet cunt, your slick glistening with the lights of the monitor. You felt Minjae exhale lightly, making your toes curl with excitement and lust. You face was burning up when you looked down to see Minjae looking up at you with shining eyes and a little smirk on his face. He didn’t have to utter a word for you to know that he was thoroughly entertained by your reaction to his being.

It was when he licked a stripe down your cunt did you fully lose your mind. Yellow and white sparks filled your vision as Minjae took his time with you. His tongue swirled around your clit, and he slipped a delicate finger through your folds. He curled the finger inside you and left it there the more he slurped you up and let his tongue wildly flick against your raw bud. You gripped onto the arm rests for dear life and bit your lower lip painfully hard when you felt the finger slip out and his tongue replace its position.

“Darling, you can be as loud as you want. No one’s gonna hear a fucking thing,” Minjae said softly as looked up at you with devious eyes and a slight smirk, your arousal fluid completely coating his mouth.

You weren’t planning on taking him up on that until he sucked on your clit, the feeling of the suction absolutely driving you up the wall. A sweet, loud moan sounded in the studio, more gasps and moans tumbling out of your mouth when you felt him slip two of his fingers inside you, fingering you slowly but with immense intention. Your hands left the arm rests and moved to his hair, his hair bunching up in your fists as you pushed him closer to your pussy.

“Ah! Mmm— Min-Minjae,” you cried as you tugged at his hair, prompting him to look at you. “More…”

Wordlessly, Minjae delivered. He kept curling his fingers inside you every time he pulled his fingers out, and he fingered you way faster as he slurped obnoxiously, your arousal filling his mouth completely. It was when he left your clit with a sickly sweet kiss did you cum, white filling your vision as you flung your head back and moaned loudly. You squirted right into his mouth, the boy downing everything like it was his last meal. You felt your face get hotter the more lewd noises he made with just his tongue and your pussy.

You thought he would be done, but he was far from over. He barely gave you a second to rest before diving in again, his fingers ruthlessly fingering you and rubbing along your g-spot repetitively, overstimulating you to the max. You were still riding your high when he pushed further, and it felt like you were seeing heaven and hell at the same time when you came for the second time, white filling your vision as you felt your body nearly burst into flames.

“W-wait, Minjae,” you said while breathing heavily, your hands desperately pushing his head away from your cunt. “I just—”

You cut yourself off when you saw his face, your arousal dribbling down his lips and dripping from his chin, his face pink and rosy. You were completely shocked— not once had you cum like that for any boy you had hooked up with in the past, and you definitely did not expect yourself to cum that hard ever in your entire lifetime. So, when you saw that the collar of Minjae’s shirt was also drenched, you wanted the Earth to swallow you whole.

“I guess I have to,” Minjae said as he stood up. He used the bottom of his shirt to wipe his face, giving you the slightest peak at his toned torso. “I’ve got to check out of the studio soon, so we’ll continue this back at my place if that’s alright with you.”

You finally understood what Junmin was hinting at. Minjae was going to be the best sex you ever had, and there was no going back from there.

“Fuck, yes, please.”

#broatz request #xikers #xikers minjae #kim minjae #minjae smut #minjae x reader #kim minjae xikers #minjae xikers #minjae xikers smut #xikers minjae smut #kim minjae smut #broatz

[florianbrandd]

General info

Name: Florian Brand

Role: Survivor

Birthday: ????

Age: 21+

Gender: Male

Pronouns: He/him

Abilities (copy pasted from Otakusparkle)

External Trait: Inflatable Airbag

Florian carries 2 asbestos airbags and a utility box filled with chemical solutions.

(Inflation)

Florian injects chemical solutions into his airbag and releases it. This creates a chemical reaction that generates a large amount of gas, rapidly inflating the airbag to expand according to its surroundings. When the airbag expands, it swiftly repels all characters within range.

(Repulsion)

Florian's airbags are highly elastic. When inflated to a certain degree and then squeezed by a Survivor, they can propel the survivor up to 9.6 meters.

(Deflation)

Florian has designed an easy-to-operate exhaust method for his airbags. Survivors can deflate the inflated airbags, causing them to rapidly shrink and lose their size. The deflated airbags will remain in place, and only Florian, who is familiar with their structure, can pick them up again to replenish his airbag count.

(Destruction)

By virtue of the special materials used in their creation,Florian's airbags have excellent resilience and can only be destroyed when struck with 1 charged Hunter attack. Their formidable repulsive properties will also cause the Hunter to recover more slowly after attacking. However, destroyed airbags cannot be recovered.

(Expertise)

Florian's expertise allows him an airbag repulsion cooldown of 10 seconds,while ordinary Survivors have a cooldown of 15 seconds.

External Trait: Temporary Threshold Shift

Florian's hearing has been impaired dueto prolonged exposure to high-decibel noises, which makes it difficult for him to concentrate while decoding. His ability to focus is only restored when he is in environments without disruptive noise sources. Florian's Decoding Speed is reduced by 10%. When restraining Hunters, Florian's Decoding Speed gradually increases by up to 15%.

External Trait: Firefighting Training

Florian's dedication goes beyond post-incident investigations,as he has intentionally honed his skills to execute rescues during life-threatening fires. Florian's Interaction Speed increases by 10%. After using an airbag to repel a Hunter, Florian gains a 35% Speed Boost that lasts for 2 seconds.

Rules/Boundaries

This blog is very headcanon-based, I'd say that's obvious since we don't know much about him yet. I'll add in canon bits here and there as we get them though.

Bringing Florian ships onto this blog is fine whether they're OC x canon or not. I headcanon Florian as mlm.

No NSFW.

Magic anons, au's, crossovers and the like are all fine.

No TERFS or exclusionists.

If you don't wanna see posts that aren't rps or in character asks/aren't important to the blog blacklist the tag #|| mun posts || (I forget to add it sometimes but it should be there most of the time).

Follows and likes come from @muralconservator

Other ask blogs

Neville Linton (original character, hunter)- @h3smoremyselfthaniam

(official concept art from NetEase)

#// I didn't add his backstory on this post because you can like.... #go on the idv wiki if you wanna read the translation of his weibo announcement JDGHDJFGH #anyways boys when they make a blog for their new silly one day after he was announced #idv askblog #identity v askblog #florian brand #divider by cafekitsune

[myriad-writings]

head over heels - b.h.

-billy hargrove x reader

-1.4k words

-requested by anon! i changed a little bit of the requested storyline but i hope you still like it! it’s more like a slightly cliche girl-next-door piece :)

-warnings: a really bad romanticization of smoking, sorry :/

Being Billy’s neighbor came with its drawbacks, in fact there were a lot of them. 

First of all, he always played his music at an ungodly decibel late into the night, and the music itself wasn’t the problem. You actually didn’t mind most of the bands he listened to, but the volume often kept you up at night. This was only made worse by the fact that your bedroom windows faced each other, and he often kept his open. 

Though, when he didn’t have the music on, that meant you could hear every vulgar interaction between him and his father, who had a tendency to argue when most of the world was asleep. With the two things compared, you would have to say you preferred the music. 

The worst part, though, was how nasty he was all the time. Due to the close proximity both in distance and age, one would assume that the two of you would at least be acquaintances. In reality, Billy acted like you didn’t even exist. You assumed it was because he didn’t consider you to be “his type,” which made sense because you weren't even your own type. 

The whole straight-A student, church girl thing was just to appease your parents. You really wanted to act out, listen to the music that your dad would have deemed ‘satanic’ and wear the clothes that your mom considered ‘whorish.’ Instead, you were raised with strict rules and high expectations to meet, so you fell into the role that was carved out for you without much protest. You just had one more year to go though, before going to college, hopefully several states away, and finally expressing yourself properly. 

It was just unfortunate that Billy didn’t even glance at you, because he was exactly your type. Rough around the edges, kind of mean, and he gave off a dangerous energy. But you occasionally saw when he would bring home his nightly girl, and they were never the same as the personality you projected publicly. So you gave up before even trying to pursue it, you were going to get out of Hawkins soon anyways. 

Despite the watchful eye of your overbearing parents, you were still able to microdose little bits of rebellion here and there. You often smoked out your bedroom window, hiding your cigarettes and lighter in one of the throw pillows by your headboard. You also kept some of the ‘whorish’ clothes you owned in a garbage bag in the back of your closet, for whenever your friends wanted to go out. Friends that your parents didn’t know about, of course. They’d burst a blood vessel if they knew you were sneaking out late at night instead of tucked in bed with the lights out by 9 p.m. 

One of these nights that you were sneaking out was when Billy caught you, startled by a noise outside his drawn-shut curtains. With your body half out of the window, you turn abruptly to meet his eyes, and you’re relieved that it’s just him. Even though he had never acknowledged your presence before, something in you knew he wasn’t going to snitch on you, not when he did things way worse on a more regular basis. Still, you hold your finger up to your lips in a ‘shh’ gesture before jumping down to the ground and pulling the first-story window shut behind you. 

Billy watches in confusion as you give him an uncharacteristically cheeky wave before rounding the back of your house to god knows where. He’s perplexed, and very intrigued. He’s never seen you in that kind of nature, but now he starts to reconsider things. Watching you sneak out contradicts everything he assumed about you, and the curveball you’d just thrown was actually really attractive to him. He’d have to pay closer attention to you from now on. 

From that point on, it’s actually a lot easier for him to observe your rebellious tendencies, but that’s only because you don’t bother trying to hide them from him. You actually start to chat with him while smoking out your window, and it doesn’t take long until you’re bumming cigarettes off him when you were out and hadn’t snuck out to get more in a while. He lends out some of his mixtapes to listen to when you’re home alone, a gesture that surprises both of you. Whenever you give them back, you make the promise to make him a mixtape in return at some point, even though both of you know how unlikely that is.

On the flip side of that, you end up lending him your notes when his grades start to slip, therefore saving him from the wrath of his father. He’s grateful, and shows it in his own weird way by not being a complete asshole to you, which is all you really need in return. 

You still don’t interact with one another at school, which is probably for the best. While people probably wouldn’t think twice about Billy chatting up any of the girls he sees, it would definitely raise some eyebrows if you two were publicly as friendly as you are in private. So he respects the reputation you feel the need to uphold, which wasn’t terribly difficult. The whole ‘forbidden flirtation’ thing you two had going on was a little addicting, very Romeo and Juliet-esque. 

One night, though, a tap outside his window catches his attention, and he opens the curtains to see you standing outside the house patiently, face lit up when he pushes the window up. “What’s up tonight, babe?” He leans on one arm as he greets you. 

“My plans fell through tonight, but I’m already dressed. Wanna go out?” You ask, rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet. 

He pretends to consider it before giving you one of his mischievous smiles. “Depends, is this you asking me on a date?” 

Your face flushes in the sparse light coming from his room. “Sure, if you drive.”

His eyes flash with an excitement that anyone else wouldn’t have noticed. “Alright, give me five minutes and I’ll meet you by my car,” you give him an ‘okay’ before he shuts the window again, fixing his hair and giving himself an extra spritz of cologne before going out to his driveway. You’re already in the passenger seat when he sees you. 

“You gotta start locking your car,” you chide at him as he joins you, to which he rolls his eyes. 

“Get your license and then I’ll listen to your shit, babe.” You stick your tongue out at him as he pulls away from your neighborhood. 

After driving around for a little bit, the two of you end up at Lover’s Lake, sitting on the hood of the car with Billy rifling through his backseat to get some smokes for the two of you before he climbs up to join you. 

“Aw, you got my favorite kind,” you say as he hands you one. “I thought you hated these.” 

“I’ve come around to them,” he says simply as you lean forward for him to light the end of the cigarette that hangs from your lips. You’re suddenly hyper aware of how close you are to him, and how intimate the exchange is.

Likewise, Billy finds himself staring at your features as you pull away and take your first drag, blowing the smoke out the side of your mouth and away from him. Without thinking about it, his fingers deftly pluck the cigarette from your lips before replacing it with his own, opposite hand coming up to your cheek mid-kiss. 

He pulls away first, taking a drag off the cigarette he just stole from you with a smirk. “These do still taste like shit, by the way,” he quips before giving it back to you. 

You giggle at him, “So you’re a liar.” He simply hums at your accusation. “Did you get these just for me, then?” 

“So what if I did?” He says with a knowing smile, leaning back on the windshield to look back up at the stars. “Maybe I like to see my girl smile, is that a crime?” 

“Your girl?” You question him, and he glances back over at you. 

“Yeah, if you want,” he shrugs, but you both know that he cares far more than he’s letting on. Obviously your answer is a yes, but you still decide to tease him a little. 

“I’ll have to think about it,” you say as you adjust to lean back beside him. 

Billy’s shoulders shake with a quiet laugh, turning his head to look at you. “Yes or no, babe?”

You meet his gaze with a tiny smile. “Definitely a yes,” is all you can murmur before he leans in for his second kiss of the night. 

#and they were neighbors #oh my god they were neighbors #billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove fic #stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine

[thealogie]

Re: slap anon—yeaaahhh same. But were there any changes in the way Macbeth antagonizes Macduff over the nights you were there? Because I experienced the most ridiculous whiplash when I saw it. He slapped Macduff right in the face like 5 times and it was tense and definitely kinda awakening something but GOD then he did this doofy chest bump thing that squished his mic and piped clothes rustle at 200 decibels right into my brain and it was the funniest fucking thing.

Also wondering if the p*rter changed up his schtick at all. I’m trying to forget that medieval times nonsense even happened but also morbidly curious

The macduff scene is the same every time. He did hit his mic one night but not the other ones. The chest thump was such a brave choice I thought. (For those who haven’t seen it, macbeth basically bullies macduff into killing him by doing some school yard style slapping and chest thumping and “come on get at me” hand gestures.) It’s so cringe and pathetic and he definitely could have made it tough and noble if he wanted to but he leaned into how pathetic it is. You almost want to look away from him that whole scene because it’s so so embarrassing and it’s deliberately so. He’s such a small man in that moment. God I could just write a whole essay about every acting choice he made in this I genuinely believe it to be one of the few flawless performances I’ve ever seen

The p*rter scene (you’re hilarious and true for censoring that) only changes if the audience members react differently. If they don’t react when he asks their name and where they’re from he’ll say “is it the accent?” or “am I speaking Punjabi?” and then “no I’m seriously asking.” If they say they’re from somewhere in England he says “I’m so sorry” and then gags while he does the “Englishmen” bit. If they’re not from England he’s like “thank god you know I would hate it if you were *gag* an Englishman”

#macbeth

[riality-check]

Hi! Really enjoying the deaf roadie Steve fic! Hope you don't mind me saying, it's probably likely Steve would still want to wear earplugs at a concert. Even with hearing loss, loud decibels of that level can cause other detriments to the ear functions (i.e. balance etc).

Tha k you for your writing, totally love the concept it's really cute and I'm looking forward to the next part!

Hi anon! You’re absolutely right, that’s a major oversight on my part, and I’m sorry about that! I’m not going to retcon it (only because I don’t want fifteen different versions of the post floating around and people getting confused) but I’ll absolutely keep that in mind for in future installments.

Thanks so much for letting me know! I’m always open to constructive criticism, so if I miss anything else (hoping I won’t, but nobody’s perfect) please let me know! I’ll never take offense to someone saying “hey you messed up,” no matter how minor. I’m always trying to learn and become a better writer.

So, thanks again! I can’t wait to continue the series with that in mind.

#asked and answered #anon #thanks for asking!! #seriously this is so helpful #so glad you’re enjoying the series #and i hope i can make it even better! #gi;pe au

[froggyfics]

The Golden Child

Dick tries to be the golden child at the detriment of his own health. 

Thank you to the anon that requested this. I may or may not have cried at the end.

Feedback is always appreciated. Feel free to message me privately or comment below to let me know what you think. Constructive criticism is always welcome!

Pairing: Dick Grayson x Tim Drake

Theme: Angst, Fluff

Word Count: 1,962

“Argh- aah- aah- argh!”

“Have medical supplies on standby! ETA 60 seconds!” Dick screams into his earpiece.

Tim shakes and shakes and shakes in the passenger seat. Tears leak from his eyes with no sign of stopping. His chest heaves up and down. He’s struggling to catch a full breath. 

“Tim, please,” Dick places one hand on Tim’s shoulder and other grips the steering wheel of the Batmobile. “Tim!”

“Please…stop. No more,” he moans.

“Tim! Snap out of it! Tim,” Dick begs. “Please, please come back to me.”

Dick sees the bay doors to the Batcave opening. He slams on the gas pedal even harder. Every second counts. 

“We’re almost there, Timmy. Stay with me now.”

The Batmobile zooms into the Batcave. Dicks smashes on the brake, and the vehicle jerks to a violent stop. 

This is the moment when Dick first feels it. A throbbing pain in his lower abdomen. 

No time to check it out, it’s probably just a scratch. 

Batman flings the passenger door open. He reaches in to drag Tim’s thrashing body out. There’s so much chaos. Tim’s still screaming. Batman barks orders at Alfred. Machines are beeping incessantly. 

Batman struggles to get Tim into the medical bay. Tim’s screams pierce the air and the bats in the cave respond with screams of their own. 

Dick attempts to run towards the medical bay to assist, but is momentarily stopped by the stiffness in his hip. He can only helplessly hobble towards the frenzied scene. Batman tries to place Tim in the gurney, but Tim is fighting back.

“What’s happening?! What are you doin’ to me?!” Tim continues to struggle with Batman. The fear toxin was coursing through his veins and wreaking havoc on his nervous system. The normally logical and practical Tim Drake was no match for the horror and intensity of Scarecrow’s fear toxin. Tim kicks and kicks, until he finally lands one into his mentor’s upper thigh.

“Oomph!” Batman grabs his thigh in response to the blooming pain. A big mistake. Tim takes advantage of Batman’s injured state and hops off the gurney. He lands on his feet before he feels hands clawing on his shoulders. He reels backwards and his upper body makes contact with the gurney again. Alfred desperately latches onto Tim’s shoulders, trying to get the young man back onto the gurney completely. 

Dick watches the scene unfold. If only he could get there faster. He could feel his heartbeat pulsing in his abdomen. 

Batman firmly grabs onto Tim’s ankles and drags them onto the gurney. Alfred strains to pull Tim to the top, so that his entire body finally occupies it. The two men quickly make do of the restraints and attach them to Tim’s limbs. 

“No! No! No! No! No! No! No! What’s happening?!” Tim screeches. His voice is higher than it’s ever been before, reaching a decibel that probably wasn’t humanly possible under normal circumstances.

After what feels like an eternity, Dick finally reaches the medical bay. He’s out of breath, gulping in air. Uh-oh, his lower body feels like it’s being poked by a million tiny needles. Dick shakily grabs onto a nearby machine. Batman looks over his shoulder and shouts, “Get the antidote! Now! Get 10 cc’s of diazepam, too!” 

Dick swallows and attempts to steady his posture. His vision has speckles of black. But he has his orders. He fumbles around to the freezer that stores the required medications. He grabs a needle and pokes the antidote’s vial, extracting the medication. He sets the needle on top of the fridge for just a moment. He attempts to grab another needle for the diazepam, but…but he misses? 

What? The stack of needles is right there. Just grab one.

His second attempt is pointless, too. He sees the needles. He knows he needs to grab one of them. But when he tries to bring his hand to the stack, his hand misses it entirely. 

“Nightwing! What are you doing back there? I need those needles now!” 

Dick takes in a deep breath. Tim needs him. Batman needs him. Poor Alfred needs him. Dick uses every ounce of energy in his body to focus on the stack of needles in front on him. He grunts as he lifts both hands up, and slams them down onto the needles. Dozens of them scatter onto the floor and outside of their container.

Whatever, it’s not like Batman can’t afford some more. 

Using both hands, Dick grabs one of the needles that managed to stay in its rightful container. He sticks it into the diazepam vial and draws out the required amount. His vision blurs for a few seconds. 

Get it together, Dick. 

He shakes his head and his vision fully returns. He grabs both needles and wobbles to Batman’s side. Batman snatches both needles from Dick and injects them into one of Tim’s popping veins. 

A few seconds pass before Tim’s breathing drastically slows. His eyes nearly pop out of his head and his tongue slightly hangs out from his mouth, but the EKG monitor that Alfred managed to attach to him shows that his heart rate is steadily returning to normal levels.

“The diazepam is working,” Batman begins. Tim is still jerking slightly and muttering to himself. “The antidote will take a few hours to work.” 

Just go to sleep. Dick can suddenly feel the lack of energy in himself. His head lolls to the side, but he continues fighting to stay upright. He can only wheeze, as Batman and Alfred continue fussing over Tim’s shell-shocked body. 

Five seconds. Just close your eyes for five seconds. Okay, he can do that. Dick closes his eyes and counts in his head. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. 

His eyes snap open and his heart begins to race. 

Five more seconds, please. He closes his eyes again. One. Two. Three. His abdomen becomes unbearably hot. He loses count. One. Two. Four. Has it been more than five seconds? Dick hears the warbling voices of Batman and Alfred. One. Two. Three. His body shakes. Why is he shaking? His wound is searing now. 

“Dick!” 

Who’s calling his name? He can’t pinpoint the voice, but it sounds familiar.

“Dick!”

He feels hands grabbing at him. His eyes are still closed. One. Three. Is it time to open his eyes? No, not yet. It’s hasn’t been five seconds yet.

Dick feels like he’s falling in slow motion. His wound doesn’t even hurt anymore. He just feels tingles all throughout his lower body. 

“Ready the…” 

“…your eyes!”

“…losing blood…dammit Dick.”

Dick wants to chuckle. He knows that last disapproving voice belonged to Batman. What had he done wrong this time? He’ll have to find out once he wakes up.

Dick stands on the lawn, breathing in the fresh air. Even though Dick no longer lives at the manor, he still feels a sense of belonging on the sprawling estate. This is where he began his second chance at life after his parents were murdered. And it’s also where he nearly lost his life, just 48 hours prior.

He hears crunching grass behind him. Someone is approaching. Dick doesn’t mind. In fact, he’d love some company just about now. He’ll be out of commission for at least two weeks due to his stab wound. Two weeks to recover and relax and just live in the moment. Take time to rediscover who Dick Grayson was rather than living as Nightwing. Perhaps he could convince Alfred to set up a picnic around here. Ooh, Dick was craving Alfred’s famous homemade pecan-

“Hey.”

Dick’s thoughts are interrupted by Tim’s soft intrusion. Dick turns to look at his brother. His friend. His coworker. Tim’s arm is in a cast and his face has splotches of red and purple across it. 

Dick smiles genuinely. “Hey. How long will you be out of action?”

Tim sheepishly looks down. “Batman says at least two months. My arm was pretty badly broken.”

Dick can sense Tim’s disappointment. How could he not? Dick saw himself in the young man. He remembered his own strong drive to work and to never take breaks when he was younger. To live up to the glorious Batman who never seemed to take a day off. 

“It’ll fly by,” Dick replies. “I’m out for a while, too.”

“Yeah, I heard.”

“Hmm.”

The two stood facing one another in complete silence. Not an uncomfortable silence, but a necessary silence. Tim gathers the confidence to speak his mind and Dick gathers the confidence to apologize.

“I’m sorry,” Dick begins. “It should’ve been me. I should’ve protected you. I didn’t see him…Scarecrow, I mean.”

Tim shakes his head. “Please, don’t. It’s not your fault.”

“Yes, it is Tim. It should always be me rather than you. I failed-,”

“Don’t,” Tim sharply exhales. “Don’t you dare say that you failed me.”

The pair fall into silence once more. Moments pass before Tim speaks up again.

“They told me what happened. You passed out. You were...bleeding out.”

Dick stood there, unable to reply. What could he say?

“You didn’t fail me when I got gassed with the fear toxin. It’s a risk I take every time I become Red Robin. I risk my body and my life. I know what I signed up for.” Tim takes a shaky breath in. “But, what I didn’t sign up for, was you dying on me. You didn’t fail me when I got gassed, but you damn near failed me when you almost died from blood loss.”

The whites of Tim’s eyes turn red as he struggles to hold his tears back. “You don’t know, do you?”

Dick’s not sure what Tim is getting at, but he feels like he’s a child again being scolded. He swallows before nervously replying, “What do you mean?”

Tim sniffles and looks his big brother directly in his eyes. “You don’t know how much you mean to us? What you mean tome?”

Dick’s heart drops to his tummy. His looks at Tim’s teary eyes and feels his own eyes moisten. 

“You don’t always have to be strong, Dick,” Tim whispers. He looks at his feet and kicks a nearby pebble away. “You don’t always have to put others first. Without you, we would all fall apart.”

“No,” Dick quivers his lip. “You are my first priority. Don’t worry about me. You and Jason and Damian, and Cassandra and-,”

Tim laughs dryly. “No, Dick, You are your own first priority. Because if you don’t take care of yourself, how can you come back to us?”

Now Dick is really speechless. Did he get just lectured? By his baby brother? Is this really Tim?

“I’ve lost a lot of people in my life, Dick. I just can’t…I can’t lose you, too.”

Dick feels a throbbing pressure once again. Not in his abdomen, but right in his heart. Dick sniffles and holds his arms open, and Tim walks right into his embrace. It’s definitely awkward. Tim isn’t normally a hugger. But this is the moment that Dick has been waiting for, for what feels like an eternity. 

“I can’t believe my baby bro just lectured me. What has the world come to?” Dick murmurs.

Tim snorts and playfully shoves Dick away. “Yeah, sometimes you’re the one that needs a talking to. Just…please take better care of yourself.”

Dick nods. How can he argue with Tim? How can he deny his brother anything? Dick and Tim begin to walk side-by-side back to the manor. Dick slings an arm over Tim’s shoulder. “You don’t know how to hug. Good thing I’ll be around for a few weeks to teach you how.”

Tim groans and Dick’s laugh permeates the air. 

Yeah, a few weeks of rest will do them just fine. 

#nightwing #nightwing fluff #nightwing angst #dick grayson #dick grayson fluff #dick grayson angst #dick grayson x Tim drake #tim drake #tim drake angst #Tim drake fluff #red robin #Red Robin fluff #Red Robin angst #dc comics

[ghostchanuwu]

Reborn 19.5 got a community release which I am super excited to play since I finished mono grass postgame last week (you should go play it)

Per usual I got a ping for it but didn't get around to seeing it until tonight

These are some super nice misc updates-

Oh?

Okay now I'm super interested to see what they got updated to!

.

.

.

THATS MY SHINY AERODACTYL.

AND KABUTO LINE.

AND LAKE GUARDIANS.

SO I GUESS THE ANON DM I GOT AWHILE BACK WASN'T A SCAM HUH.

In all seriousness holy shit I am so happy,this game means so much to me

It's how I fully found out that I'm non-binary (Decibel is so gender),it's how I made so many friends through the Reborn and Rejuv communities and also why I even started YouTube in the first place

The devs are fucking awesome,the people in the discord server are insanely talented (seriously go look at the creative gallery and sprite edits channels)

Also go play Starlight Divide when it comes out!!!!1!1!!1!1!

#pokemon reborn #im so fucking happy you would nOT BELIEVE #i guess i now have full motivation to sprite more #especially getting my ass on actually doing more work on Echos fjfbfndn

[adiduck]

also has 78. Interrupted Kiss been prompted yet? Because. 78. Interrupted Kiss.

An anon also prompted this! Here you go, everyone! Hope you enjoy Simon and Ethan in the midst of crate training their brand new puppy!

Send me a kiss for SaintSpy May!

-

78. Interrupted kiss (x2)

“Rawowowowowaaaaaaar,” Cat says from her sleep crate, very loudly and forlornly.

Ethan pulls his pillow out from behind his head and shoves it over his face. Maybe, he thinks, he can just smother himself, and then he will be free of their new puppy crying for what has felt like eight solid hours for the third straight night in a row.

“She just never stops,” his husband says from next to him, bow-string taut and plaintive at the same time.

“She will,” Ethan insists through is pillow. Cat hits a particularly impressive high note. He grits his teeth through it, and then continues. “She has to learn that this is where she sleeps.”

“What if we just let her on the bed,” his husband says.

“We agreed this is the safest arrangement.”

“Yeah, but she can sleep all fucking day, and I can’t,” his partner gripes.

Cat pauses for a blessed thirty seconds, and then makes a sound like she’s dying.

“I really can’t take it,” his husband says. “I feel like we’re torturing her.”

“We are not torturing her,” Ethan says, putting his pillow down. “If we let her out now, she learns that all she has to do to come out of the crate is cry. We are trying to discourage vocalizing to get what she wants.”

“Ooooooaaaaaaarw,” Cat interjects, and Ethan puts the pillow back over his head.

“She’ll go to sleep eventually,” Ethan says optimistically over the racket. “She fell asleep at about three thirty last night.”

“Great.” Ethan’s pillow is snatched. He opens his eyes to behold his exhausted partner, bags under his eyes, hair in disarray. It isn’t just fatigue, Ethan knows, though that’s part of it. Ethan has learned, over the last couple days, that Cat was with them to begin with because his husband had heard crying just like this—plaintive, exhausted, afraid—and followed his ears to a racing dog owner who emphatically did not deserve the beautiful animals he was mistreating. “What are we going to do about it now?”

Ethan sighs. In the crate, Cat’s crying starts to lower—a lull, not a secession of hostilities. They’d made that mistake more than once. Ethan takes the opportunity to reach up, run a finger over the bags like he could wipe them away. “We are not hurting her,” Ethan says. “She is a baby, sweetheart. Babies cry. We have to be firm about this—bedtime is crate time until she’s house trained.”

“I know,” his husband says, shoulders slumping. Ethan sighs, and leans up to press their lips together, once, and again, drawing it out. He feels his partner relax into it—into him—after a moment, curling towards Ethan and firming up the pressure, sighing as Ethan parts his lips—

“Arowowowowowooooooooooo,” Cat says, hitting a decibel that genuinely makes Ethan jump. His teeth collide with his husband’s mouth painfully, and his partner pulls back with a hiss.

“God damn it,” his husband snaps, reaching up to wipe at his now slit lip.

“Shit—shit, I’m sorry,” Ethan says, starting to sit up. He’s waved back down, his partner following to bury his face in Ethan’s neck with a groan.

“I give up,” he announces to Ethan’s collar bone. Ethan reaches up to pet his hand through is hair.

“She’ll fall asleep eventually,” he says again.

“I don’t care anymore.”

“Arrrrrrowowowow,” Cat adds, plaintively.

Ethan sighs, and puts the pillow back over his face. It was going to be a long night.

-

#100 Kisses Challenge #saintspy may #saintspy #Ethan Hunt #Simon Templar #Ethan Hunt x Simon Templar #Catherine 'Cat' Hunt the greyhound puppy #adi is a writer

[headingalaxys-spicy]

Can we have Yandere Demon America, England and China with a Caipora that has been tormenting them for weeks so that they retreat from their forest?

Caipora are protective beings, usually in female form, who act as protectors of Brazilian fauna and flora, deceiving or terrorizing hunters who kill more animals than necessary.

I got to dig a little with Brazilian lore thanks for that Anon. Hope you enjoy!

🇺🇸 America 🇺🇸

Another round of trees combusted against the midnight sky. Orange, red, and dark grey permeated the air with violent vitriol. His jet-black hair rustled within the cackling fires that feasted on the trees. Al was irritated he was approaching unbridled rage. His boulder-like fists clenched tighter as he watched shimmery blue & silver water droplets diminish his flames.

“God DAMMIT!”

He channeled his rage into his right hand. It struck a tree through its trunk. As his hand crippled the silk cotton tree, he hoisted it up onto his shoulders like a barbell. As Alfred’s body lurched forward to throw the tree, he could not move his muscles.

“UGH! The FUCK!?!” his shout infuriated the nerves of those who protected the pristine forests of Brazil. He begins to feel the hefty weight of the gigantic tree.

The air in the greenwood had become tense.

It now lacked oxygen, and it lacked life.

A cracking sound reached the demon's pointed ears. As his eyes swung low to see if he could pinpoint where his target was, the tree snapped in half. Several truckloads of dirt completely buried him.

Y/N, the small but mighty protector of the lush woods, scoffs. She lets up a hand signal to her underlings to follow her secret command. They all set up iridescent crystals that look like they’d been plucked straight from the ocean. They’d made quick work of placing them strategically on the dirt ball. Once finished, they made off like dragonflies gliding up the trees. They started a chant barely above the decibels of a pen dropping on pillows. Masses of pastel bubbles sprang to life from the ground and the sky. They gracefully swarmed around the general vicinity, creating a barrier so that no creature could get in and no demon could escape. The pastel bubbles glowed in bright sunlight, allowing the yellows, blues, pinks, and all the other colorful hues to encase the area.

The head Caipora, still atop the dirt, tapped her foot as she waited eagerly. When the chanting ceased, she knew it was time. She pulled out a daisy that had a crystal button at its center.

Alfred had suddenly felt several hundred, no … thousands of strings piercing all sides of his body. He couldn’t move. He also could scream.

Heat. All he could feel, in addition to the stabs, was heat that began to burn brighter like the sun, as if it were being steadily turned up by a dimmer. Blood started to pool in his lungs and made its way to his mouth. It was evaporated by the now-burning inferno consuming him.

The daisy detonator combusted from the outside, sending pollen, dirt, and a few blood droplets across the forest floor.

************

The rising sun stung his eyes and ruined the tiny bits of peace he had while being unconscious. He was having difficulties reincarnating his limbs, which had never grown back this slowly before, and he had an awful migraine slamming into his head. Off in the distance, his eyes were able to catch the beauty of the forest he’d been pining for. She was holding a spear and shooting warning bullets from her eyes. Alfred smiled back smugly, swishing his only halfway there tail.

“You might have won the battle. But you have not won the war!”

🇨🇳 China 🇨🇳

A red flash in the bushes blinded a few birds and woodland animals on the ground. Some squirrels had lost their balance, fallen, and become injured. It was starting again: seventeen days, seventeen days and counting.

You despised the red lights and the extended nights tending to the wounded, injured, and ill. The strange red flashes harmed the flora & fauna to varying degrees. It was exhausting evading all of the magical jade nets, healing your land as it had become sick, and trying to think of ways you could put an end to this menace that was hellbent on capturing you and making your life pure misery. You also attempted not to overthink the reports of the demon that had been spotted stalking the vicinity. It was difficult not to connect the sighting to the misfortunes beginning due to his sudden presence. He was messing with the balance of the ecosystem while pursuing you.

As you began to heal another tapir who had been a victim of the red lights, you could hear heavy boots crunching on the leaves and sticks a few yards away. Its pace was quick & like that of a cat stalking its prey. It was preparing to close in.

A few of the other Caiporas standing guard outside came in to alert you of the looming threat. You’d signaled for them to be in half-battle & half-defense positions. The fauna that still needed assistance would need protection from the menace. As Yao began to get closer to your woodland sanctum, the tension within the place rose. You’d seen, along with others in the room the top parts of horns peering in the area of the safe haven. Animals began to shuffle silently into the lower levels of the sacred sanctum. At least the undergrounds would make it easier to evade prying eyes. The horns seemed to pause for a moment. You’d feared detection with the vulnerable patients you had been within the demon's path.

All of your enchanted candles had been extinguished.

To avoid being detected, it was too late.

The roof of your sanctum began to quiver & crumble from the forces outside. You were ready to go on the offensive within a few seconds. You had your spear and magic gems at the ready. The demon with a stylishly sleek ponytail had a smirk on his face that you knew meant trouble. There was a disturbance in the forest. High-pitched sonars tore into eardrums. It brought Agouti and a few more tapir down to the ground as they entered freeze mode.

The rage that had only been at a simmer now boiled over. You despised jerks who sought to plunder & collect for their entertainment. You blinked in code what offensive you wanted to begin. However, the defensive Caipora made the ill & wounded invisible as they completed the transport underground. Arrows had already been fired at the shoulders, eyes, and arms into Yao & some of his demon henchmen accompanying him. A few had fallen, with more still to be knocked out. You and your team still had to evade the crystal jade cages. One nearly had you when you were right next to Yao’s shoe. Close to his grasp but still far, you began running circles around him. If these didn’t work he’d triumphantly take you away with his bare hand. As his hand graced the top of your fiery red hair, you pulled out your violet gem. Within the gem, it had a petal from a borrachero shrub. You’d gotten it from one of your fae friends in a neighboring woodland in Columbia. It was activated with a swift swipe of your hand.

Just as his hand clamped around your body, spores from the borrachero petal swarmed up and around his face. He wasn’t able to avoid inhaling the hallucinogenic particles. It also didn’t help that you’d managed to stab his palm. It was an added sodium sickness into his open wound. Dizziness and the feeling of not sleeping in over a month hit Yao like a truck. The effects of the devil's breath plant overtook him swiftly. He grunted and barely registered that he’d been stabbed. Just as he was about to fall onto the sanctum, his body disintegrated into millions of green and pink iridescent pollen particles. The particles materialized miles outside of the forest. Y/N the Caipora had officially banished him forever.

It would take Yao 3 weeks to have a coherent thought. He will find himself in his bed in the underworld with his attendants. He will be none too pleased with how his henchmen tell him that he’s been defeated and can’t re-enter the scared woodland.

🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿 England 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿

Y/N was having a difficult time keeping up with the mischievous red-headed demon. He’d managed to destroy the barrier. That meant that it was possible for him even to drain all the helicona flowers. It was already concerning that an estimated 15% were missing or found drained of its life forces. All of this happened within only the span of the last two hours. That meant Arthur was keen on harming more than just the forest, the magical beings that protected it. If he wasn’t stopped soon, that implied that you’d be turned to stone for one hundred years, you and the other guardians of the forest.

As you tumbled through the trees. Your heart thundered in your ears as dread filled your stomach.

There was a noticeable absence of bugs, birds, and other animals from the ground and within the trees. The further you surveyed your surroundings the more lonely and dead it became. Trees appeared to be chared from varying degrees. There also seemed to be an infestation coming from within. A neon green goo bubbled out from the veins of the trees like boiling water. The icky stream groggily climbed upwards.

Your reflexes sprung you above the treeline like a frightened cat. It was dangerous to be below it, for that wicked demon enchanted the trees. Your blood was burning just like the toxic goo that was spewing from the trees. You summoned your sacred book. There was no way you would let an unruly demon destroy your forest.

An intense, sharp pain pierces your side. The small shriek you let out brought a shit-eating grin to the red-headed demon.

“There you are my precious dear.~”

His tail shoots out for you like a ravenous viper, practically dying for its next meal. You struggled within his grip as he reeled you in. Arthur’s verdant eyes marveled at you like one would with a newly carved diamond. He stroked your ruby red hair, while doing so a firecracker burst in his hand. The kaleidoscopic colors temporarily blinded the demon and freed you from his grasp. A Rufous-bellied thrush swooped in to catch you. It brought you back to the base of a Kapok tree. Another Caipora along with many others already had battle plans ready to undo the demons spells. As you got up from the back of the bird you held your side.

A team of healer elves rush to tend to you. The second Caipora in command gave you a reassuring smile. They head off with their A-Team in tow.

Extinguishers dispelled the cursed goo that was making the land feel ill. It was too late to save some of the magical beings that had become nothing but bone that had become brittle and turned into dust.

The second in command was preoccupied tending to a curupira <male version> who could be saved from the effects of the starved sludge. The evil from beneath the ground was back and was intent on destroying the forest and claiming Y/N. He kicked a few animals and a Caipora into a shallow puddle of the acidity muck. Arthur was about to flatten your right hand when an arrow had gone through to his boot. When he took it off to check he was stunned by the tiny arrow he used for you. It gave him pain that was similar to that of an axe trying to chop off part of his heel. The grin that was crazed and parched for blood he fell to the ground. Some of his skin sizzled from the goo on the ground. His consciousness fading to black but before it did so he saw you approach with a staff in hand.

*************

When Arthur came to he knew he wasn’t successful because he failed to obtain you. As his barely their body still needed a lot of time to heal. His eyes glided up towards the entrance of the forest and as he reached out his feeble hand that shook…

*ZAP!*

Lightning struck his hand. He was forever banished from the land.

#hetalia #hetalia fandom #hws #hws england #hws china #headingalaxys writes stuff #headingalaxys spicy #yandere hetalia #hetalia fanfiction writer #hetalia fanfiction writers #ヘタリア world stars #ヘタリア #hws america

[assortedvillainvault]

Hi, Chance anon again! I know I just sent in another request, but I just thought of a really good one I think you’ll like! How do you think each of Blitzwing’s personalities reacts to getting a kiss from the human reader for the first time (whether it’s on the cheek or lips or whatever is up to you)? I’m guessing Hothead’s reaction involves lots of screaming lol, but I’ll leave that up to you. I hope you’re happy, healthy and safe!

*Clenches Fist* Chance Anon I hope you're ready for some SMOOCHIN

Headcannons for first time kisses with Blitzwing x Reader below!

Icy

Icy is the most distant of the three personalities and the least inclined to PDA, it's simply how he is. Farthest he's probably felt comfortable going with you so far is idly petting you in his grasp like an oversized metal Bond villain and their cat.

Not that you OBJECTED to this treatment this mech's hands and shoulder are your thrones now - and you'll happily soak up the affection it's just you'd like something a tad more forward, y'know?

He catches you staring at him several times before his monocle finally zooms in and focuses on you right back, even as he still faces the screen and continues with his work. "Somezhing on jour mind, little one?"

You hum and brace yourself on his shoulder a little better. You need a bit more leverage to get past the sweep of his helmet guard...

"Not really. Something on your face tho."

He makes a noise akin to an alexa unit with a wonky connection and turns, one elegant optic ridge arched in his usual deadpan expression, "I can assure jou zhere is not-"

BAM you seize the moment with both fists and plant a kiss right on his cheek ridge. Distantly you feel all 33 feet of him freeze beneath you and his fans kick on. Ha!

You're sailing on the sea of triumph and make to pull away with a MWAH!. Except you. Uh. Can't?

In muffled panic you realise your lips are STUCK and your face is going through the Worst ice cream headache youve ever had, Icy FINALLY manages to reactivate his voicebox and frantically apologise, you can feel the panic rising and all you can think is please don't switch please don't switch you will rip my face off if you do pls pls pls

Turns out Icy's hyperfrost cannons mean he runs cold constantly, and when he's startled millions of years of war have ingrained combat systems to activate at a moments notice, cooling him even further. Like licking a telegraph pole in Alaska.

Officially probably the most embarrassing trip to med bay either of you have ever had.

Hothead

He's shouting about something, honeslty you tuned out a while ago and became immune to the thunderous volume of loud noises. This mech is 90% shout.

You lay a hand against his helmet and pat it gently even as he fumes. He's long since mastered the art of stomping around without jostling you (but the magnets sewn into your jeans also help, like, a lot). You're not even sure if he can feel your tiny hand through he armour plating but continue regardless.

"It's so slagging unfair!" he roars, and you make all the right noises. Absentmindedly pressing a kiss beside the place your hand rests. "Yeah, I hear you."

The silence rings between you like an alarm bell allergic to noise.

"UH-" you don't even get a minute to fling up an excuse before you're being swept up into giant hands. You clench against the whiplash as Hothead clenches his dentae in front of you.

You take a minute to admire the truly extensive blush below his visor. He opens his mouth to inhale for a new, jet engine decibel outbutrst and you abruptly decide that, yknow what, those lips are extremely plump and kissable and in for a penny in for a pound and all that.

Future safety briefings will specify that humans should not lauch their heads into a mechs mouth unexpectedly -or ever- but you can't help but feel like you've won... something even as you try and extracate your head from between said lips that closed on reflex.

Lots of kissing was techically done, just not very traditionally, and he couldn't even find words beyond squeaking and wild gestures, so you're officially counting this as a win.

Random

It's taken you more than a week to see Random after the hilarious mishaps with the other personalities, a fact that's concerned you for a while.

Random is the most openly affectionate and seems to have an addiction to touching you with his face anyway, so you thought a kiss would be within easy reach. He's already licked, nuzzled and balanced you on his non-existant nose, why the distance now?

The answer comes in the form of nightmares and cannibalism. It's depressing what you get used to these days.

You're not sure if Random gets the worst nightmares of the three or is simply the most open about expressing distress even when asleep. All you know is that one minute you're blearily forcing your eyes open and the next you're all but lauched off the berth as Random thrashes and shrieks in remembered pain.

Miraculously you're unhurt but are in no position to stop Lugnut storming in and grappling Blitzwing back down to the bed. Random snarls, and it's something so animalistic you feel it in your bones. You watch in horror as he wrestles free and sinks Jack O'Lantern knife teeth into Lugnut's arm.

To his credit all Lugnut does is grunt and let Blitzwing lap up the energon. You're certain if it were anyone else they would have lost the arm.

Lungnut holds him even as he slowly relaxes and lays prone againt the berth, fans on high and optics dim and distant. His face is still covered in energon and you can tell he'll need your help cleaning it out of the crevices later.

"Human. You can come up now."

You shakily do, trusting in the sheer force of the bomber to keep Blitzwing pinned as you come sit by his face. He slowly managed to focus on you, though all that comes out is a pitiful whine.

You've never noticed really before, but he has no lips to cover his razor blade smile, and had always been incredibly gentle when you were close. You press a kiss to his cheek in a clear spot and run a hand fondly around a wide and questioning optic.

"Going to need a bath later, big guy." You mumble and he fianlly relaxes fully as Lugnut grumbles and leaves the room, complaining about disturbance to his sleep schedule.

The tired but content purr of his dual engines is all you rememeber as you both gently drfit back to sleep.

#I YEEEAARRRNNNN #blitzwing x reader #thalassa responds #x reader #blitzwing #this was a joy to write and i fianlly had the energy #thanks once again for all the requestes chance you rule #headcannons ahoy #transformers #transformers animated #maccadam

[writefightandflightclub]

Hi there, I absolutely loved your story "You-o-meter", and I was wondering if you would be open to a request for something similar to that? I had an idea with Santi or Poe, with the reader either having sensitive ears or having a similar situation to what happened in the story with Nathan. And if you do Santi, maybe the reader gets scared of a loud gunshot or something?

Thanks so much for this prompt, Anon! Really enjoyed this. Hope you like what I did with it! 🧡

The space between words: Poe Dameron x GN!Reader

Summary: there’s never any peace and quiet with Poe Dameron around… or, is there? (This is about sensory overload but also it’s a super cute love story; because of course it is, so I think anyone could enjoy this even if that’s not something you deal with!).

Genre: it ends fluffy 🥰

Author’s note: this one is about reader experiencing sensory overload / overstimulation (reader is particularly sensitive to noise here rather than other forms of stimuli.) Hilarious fact - I wrote most of this in the midst of a week which was overloading me to the point I felt hungover. But, the glass is half full bc ha! At least it helped me get in the right headspace for this thing! 🤪

Warnings: sensory overload (especially noise), lots of descriptions of said stimuli (upfront, before the comfort arrives), reader is not overloaded by touch. Unspoken love. Generally fluffy / eventually cute. Hugs and luff. Mentions of canon-typical angst but only as a scene-setter. Quickly written not proofed. Oh and he calls reader “kiddo” but it’s just meant to be cute not an age thing at all.

It’s loud everywhere on base and it’s pretty hard to escape it. Near impossible on the days where you are rostered for duty, in fact.

There is the barking of orders in the command room. The tense, terse exchanges of tacticians, spit flying with every heartfelt enunciation. The grind of metal. That tinny punctuation and crank of tools in the hangar. The whirr of engines out on the duracrete and the beep of droids - well, kriffing everywhere. There’s Threeps babbling at you over your shoulder. Wracked, rhythmic sobs throbbing in the corridors like a pulse through an artery, perfectly in time and yet completely at odds with the clamour of jubilation from the makeshift bar across base.

It is near constant. Even the supposed avenues for winding down are loud. The pulse of the bass around the campsite. Lairy, throaty laughter from those necking fire whiskey. The only place you can retreat for a modicum of peace is the edge of the forest, but by the time you make it there after a long shift your head is already so bleary, throbbing, that even the mocking song of the cicadas is enough to send you over the edge.

You do what you can to subdue it. You wear ear loops to take the edge off of the decibels, but even then, without any circuit breaks it… builds up. For others, the noise seems to flow through them; dissipate. But for you it sticks. Settles. Accumulates. Fills you up like a bucket until you are spilling over.

Even aside from the noise, it is loud everywhere. There is the bold, blaring flight suit orange. The flashing blue of star maps and whizzing space. The palpable smell of fear too - and all these stimuli sometimes feel as deafening a tumult as the noise itself.

It all scrapes you. Grinds you down until your head throbs.

And then, because of course there is… on top of all that noise…. there is Poe kriffing Dameron. Poe, your shockingly handsome Commander. And, as per usual, the famously verbose man will not shut up.

You adore the guy. No, you really do - in that kind of harbouring a dead secret (presumably unrequited) love sorta way, your feelings for him excavated at the pit of every exhale, and and buried again with the tip of every in breath; circular, bedded deep and never straying too far from your chest. His voice might even be - hands down- the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard. You could - and have - listen to him talk for hours on end with pleasure, when you’re feeling in the right spot to manage it. But, right this second?

Right this second, you cannot stand his jibber-jabbering.

He’s been talking for so long, and all you want is for this briefing to end so you can head back to your bunk. Your bunk being the only kriffing place around here that you can attempt to get some peace and quiet - at least, before the morning alarm sounds and you’re back at it all over again, that throb pushing out from beneath your skull and threatening to crack you open like a geejaw egg.

The lack of sleep doesn’t exactly help either. 16 hours on duty without relent. You know that you desperately need to recharge - reset and replenish your threshold for stimulation back to zero, before you surpass your limit. It’s just that, around here, everyone’s batteries are running low (even the droids’, thanks to those classic Resistance power cuts). So, during those times when you feel like taking a moment for yourself? You always feel like it would simply be taking too much. For goodness’ sake - Poe has soldiered on with concussion, a broken leg, and innumerable other ailments. You certainly don’t feel you deserve to duck out because it’s too kriffing loud.

Meanwhile, your commander is rattling things off now at pace, somehow animated and peppy at this makerforesaken hour (you know it’s not even as a result of the caf, because you drained the last of it).

So far, you’ve tried so hard to mask your discomfort throughout the briefing. You’ve put in effort to mirror the expression of the others around the table who are listening keenly. Hanging on his every word. You’ve tried so hard, but… after a double shift? You’re overstimulated enough that you actually feel physically nauseous. Panicked even, the anxiety buzzy throughout your body as you approach overwhelm - alarmingly quickly now.

Blissfully, there is a teeny tiny circuit break. A brief, blessed silence as Poe pauses to shuffle around some files on his datapad, and your body sags with momentary relief. Perhaps that false end to all this is why - as he resumes talking once again only moments later - you actually wince, sucking in air through your teeth and pinching the bridge of your nose as though you’re in physical pain when you realise it’s not over.

Well. You are. You are in physical pain.

The whole table swivels to look at you now, as your sharp sound slices through the room. To them, it’s quiet in here -which you find inexplicable- and your “interruption” has garnered their attention.

You immediately creak your head up to Poe in apology, your face twisting - in equal parts discomfort and contrition. But, of course, he’s Poe, and so he looks at you kindly. He only ever looks at you kindly.

You feel that love for him stir again on the exhale, and you push it back down again as you remember to breathe in.

“You okay, kiddo?”

His umber eyes are entirely earnest beneath his thick brows, and you nod - rather unconvincingly.

“Mmmhmm.” Your response is weak and you’re not entirely sure he buys it, but you wave your hand anyway, insisting he carry on with what he was in the middle of.

And so, given the go ahead, Poe indeed continues talking. You try to tune him out, but that was always going to be impossible. You’re so attuned to his voice - after so much time spent together - that your whole body stands on end for it, like iron filings dragged by a magnet. He’s impossible for you to ignore. And, stars, under any other circumstance, why would you want to?

Still, in this present moment, you are where you are, so instead, you grit your teeth, trying at the very least to steady your breaths - genuinely worried you might have some kind of mini meltdown if you’re not able to get out of here soon. You even feel your lower lip begin to tremble, and note your hands balling into fists against your thighs - clenching and unclenching as you try to focus on anything else aside from the urge to flee to somewhere quiet, or, to let this accumulation find it’s venting point through the corner of your eyes.

You breathe in and out, the pads of your fingers soothing at your temples and trying to relieve some of the tension. Your eyes close, so that you at least shut out the colours and shapes and visuals and everything else added into the mix which might tip you over the edge.

You’re more than sure Poe would understand if you ever talked to him about this. That he’d insist you check out right now and promise to catch you up later. You just know that he would try to find some workaround in briefings, if you brought your needs to his attention. He’d do it for anyone… but he’d do anything for you, you’re sure. But… you never have tried to talk to him about it. It never seemed like the most important thing, always something bigger or more urgent that seemed to trump your discomfort. Right now though, you are cursing yourself for always pushing yourself to the bottom of the list.

Even so, you make it through, somehow. You let out a huge, audible exhale of relief as Poe concludes the briefing, and you let his comment about whether he was “boring you” glance right off, unanswered. Then, you stay put in your chair, even as your fellow Rebels slow to wait for you, turning your body only briefly to wave them on. You don’t wish to exit alongside them on this occasion. Right now, you’re not sure at all that you could handle being immersed within the centre of such an inescapably thick cloud of chit chat. Being the grounding quiet in the eye of a storm.

You take a second to slump in your chair and breathe a sigh of relief, relishing the relative hush of the room; even covering over your eyes with your hands and letting yourself revel in blackness, until the clutter of voices safely recedes from your range of hearing.

When you open your eyes again, you are a little shocked -it’s fair to say - to see that Poe has remained behind in the room. You blink a few times and look up at him in confusion, and in response he circles quietly, slowly around the table, a small, sympathetic smile curling his plush pink lips. You watch as he comes to perch on the table edge before you, one pert butt cheek hiked up on the surface and his hands falling loosely into his lap, turned palms up like cupped rowboats strewn across a sea of rumpled orange flight suit. You want to climb into them and be rocked to sleep.

“You really okay, kiddo?”

You brace, waiting for the sound of his question to scrape you, but you are relieved to find his tone hushed - the cracks in his voice all smoothed out.

You lie, voice thin. “Sure.” It comes out as more of a question.

Poe’s eyes narrow in scepticism. “Okay.” He probes gently. Only ever gentle with you. “So are you coming to the bar for a few?”

Shit. He would call your bluff, wouldn’t he?

There are plans, you see. Things had gone well today. Victories against the First Order. People want to “celebrate”. As much as you would love to share some quality time with your fellow Rebels -would jump at the chance on a good day- you cringe at the mere thought of how noisy it would be. For some, “celebration”, and “loud” are synonymous. For you, conversely, you often find yourself exalting the quiet. The spaces between words. The room; to breathe in. The expansive possibility of that in breath.

“No. I… I can’t.” You bounce your foot agitatedly and the feeling shakes through your whole body. You sorta think you want to cry.

“Sure? Honestly, y’ look like ya could do to let loose.” Your body drags to his voice like a magnet, even as you want to push the sound away.

“Astute assessment, Dameron. But, pulsating music so loud I can’t think isn’t really it for me right now.”

Poe tilts his head sympathetically. Scratches at his crown of errant curls. You’d see his bark-brown eyes flitting gently -fondly- over your face, if you were looking. He speaks softly, his voice a vat of honey and a niggle settled on his brow. “Okay. I’m not gonna push it. Just… you take care of yourself, okay?”

You blink before tears can ball. “Yeah,” you concede. “Yeah, I’m trying to.”

He reaches out his weathered, rowboat hand and cups it against your shoulder. “You be okay? Can I do anything?”

You look at him now. His voice is not the only thing that drags you to him. His eyes too. His whole damn being. You wish you could stay and be close to him tonight, but-

“-Nah.” You stand, bumping him playfully in the shoulder with a balled fist. “Just tired, fella. I want to come but…” You cup your hands over your ears and the quiet swirls around you like the breath caught inside a seashell. “Loud,” you explain, with brevity. “No thank you.” Maker, you’re starting to sound like D-O. (Well? Maybe that’s not wholly a bad thing - D.O. sure knows how to set boundaries.)

Poe nods, reluctantly. “Ok. Well. You’ll be missed.” His mouth rocks into a fond smile. His thumb draws back towards his chest. “By me.”

You absent-mindedly curl your fingers around the lip of his collar, smoothing all the rumples out. He holds his breath. Then, you can’t help but smile at him, even as your head continues to blare and throb. “Oh, Poe. I know that I will,” you purr smugly, before you swivel on your boot to leave.

Sometimes your feelings for him are far too loud, and you need to turn the volume down.

***

Some time later, you’re sat up in your bunk. Your legs are folded beneath you, and you’re settled in the centre of the mattress, your favourite misshapen plushie -a mascot gifted by Poe- stuffed into the space between your legs, its head carefully angled so you can both look out of the viewport, of course.

You’re one of the lucky ones, you realise - one of the few Rebels on base to benefit from not only a first floor room, but also a small, round transparisteel hole which looks out on to the base. Usually, it is covered by a blackout curtain, to maximise the chance of grabbing some shut eye between shifts. Tonight though, you have drawn it back, opting to lookout across the expanse of duracrete. It’s not as though you have much chance of sleeping, anyway. Not after the five shots of caf in as many hours.

It’s quiet in your room - finally. Quiet enough that you actually find it soothing to watch the activity of the new shift, the routines and duties falling into place seamlessly like a well-oiled machine; oddly rhythmic. You even find it peaceful to watch the ships lifting off, taking flight gracefully (though not quite as gracefully as the flight of one pilot in particular).

You are mesmerised for a while, as you watch the droids and Rebels and vehicles shuttling from one station to another, busying themselves as the last dregs of light weep over the horizon. You slip on your headphones, playing some gentle white noise, and you lean your head up against the pane, disappearing your hands into the sleeves of your soft woollen cardigan.

Then, you brighten as you spot Poe down there, an involuntary smile claiming your features as he emerges from out of the munitions building. You even clutch your mascot a little tighter, in lieu of him.

He has his data pad in hand, and he’s brightly greeting the night shift as everyone slots into position.

You watch him do the rounds, his attention to detail meticulous even as Snap beckons him over to the bar to join the rest of the squadron. You can just about see his mouth move, but of course, you can’t hear the words spoken in reply. You can imagine them though -something promising revelry- and the smile slants from your mouth as you wish you could join them. You even think about it, but you know it would be too much today. And so, you console yourself with watching Poe flit around the base, ticking off his duties one by one on his pad.

He stands down on the duracrete as he completes the last of his checks, his muscle memory taking over - no doubt - as he completes the all too familiar run.

He’s done it so many times that it’s seamless by now. You watch him fondly as he assigns duties, checks positions and rosters, passes out equipment, checks protocols, and inventories munitions. And, as he concludes his round, he executes his last stop with a flourish. He pauses to look up squarely at your window - as though that is part of his nightly routine too. His final stop, no less, before he makes his way back to his own quarters.

Except, this time, of course… you’re peering right back at him.

Surprise hooks his face, tugging it up into a lopsided grin. You can’t see the flash of happiness in any detail from up here, but you can imagine it. Can picture those creases as the smile reaches his long-lashed eyes, and the slant of his pearly, gappy teeth. You smile bashfully in return as he swipes a “hello” up at you with an arc of his hand, and shyly return his wave.

Then, Poe holds his finger in the air as though he has a bright idea - hang on - and you see him typing on his datapad. Your eyes flit over to your own device, just in time to catch the gentle illumination of the screen as his message is transmitted through to you. 

“What ya doing still up? Thought y’were too tired to come out?”

You scoff lightly before firing a message back. Sleep would be amazing, if it could come. “Can’t sleep yet. Too buzzed. Drank too much caf, I guess.”

You glance back out of the window, and see Poe still stood down there. He is looking all too earnestly up at you, his shapely jaw tipped up and feet spread in a wide stance. It makes you feel giddy, and the churn of butterflies in your stomach makes you feel a little exposed, you suppose. So, hurriedly, perhaps with too much haste, you offer him a “good night” wave, tugging your curtain closed with a flourish and throwing your body back on to the mattress.

You let out a big breath and all of the silt inside you stirs, your buried love for him floating to the surface. It makes your skin hum. A quiet, resonant note, too deep to hear. A sort of peace.

As soon as he is gone though, you miss him.

You even miss his noise.

***

You lie back in your bunk for a while, unwinding, decompressing, and letting your mind slowly filter through all the thoughts from today. You still don’t feel ready to sleep, but a little of the tension has slipped away.

Still, your thoughts can’t help but wander back to Poe. You keep imagining him in the bar, full of jubilation. You think about the creases radiating from the corner of his eyes like sunbeams. The warmth of his hand through your flightsuit, reaching for your arm or thigh or smoothing up against your back. You feel like you’re missing out on seeing him happy. On sharing this win with him and your teammates. You wish there was a way that you could be a part of it, but there’s no way you feel up to it just now.

So, instead, you continue to bask in the hush of the room, reading and tidying and freshening up.

You are startled when you hear an unexpected, soft rap on your door. Your chunky headphones now slipped down around your neck, you thankfully hear the subtle yet insistent request for your attention and you tread towards it. 

A frown notches in your brow and you crane forwards to peer through the spy hole. A distorted, grinning idiot appears to you, in swirled shades of orange, brown, and black.

There’s only one grinning idiot that could be.

“Poe?!”

You swing the door open, and you don’t even have to ask what he’s doing here. Poe volunteers the information freely, instantly, his tone soft and just a little mysterious. “I’ve got a surprise for you.”

Your frown deepens, and you respond a little tiredly. You’re of letting him down, if you’re not feeling up to taking part in whatever harebrained scheme he’s about to propose to you. “What is it, Poe?” You raise your eyebrows, knitting them in the middle, tilting them up like a question. “Is this like the time you and Snap raced those wheely chairs down the runway? Because I told you that I-”

Poe shakes his head, his eyes gently gleaming. “-Nothing like that. Something you’ll like, I promise.”

He extends his hands towards you, cupped expectantly, in a way that beckons you to pour all of your love into it. He beams hopefully at you, his eyes big and round and sparking gently. “Can ya just trust me?”

You take a deep breath, and - so help you - you slip your hand immediately into his.

You can. After all, there’s no-one else you trust more. Your hand clamps hold of him, his warmth blooming across your palm. With the other hand, you move to uncoil your headphones from around your head, ready to discard them.

“Keep ‘em with you,” he suggests, upon seeing the slight indecision in your face. “It’s okay.”

You nod at him, and his eyes tighten in something like admiration. He’s always made you feel comfortable. Comfortable enough to be yourself. He looks down at your hand in his then. “This alright?”

You gulp, nervousness fluttering in your stomach. “Yeah.” Yeah, it is, actually. You don’t want him to let go. 

Guiding you by the hand, Poe leads you outside, down through the winding  corridors and towards the door leading out on to the duracrete. You walk out to the main thoroughfare, and your hand becomes clammy in Poe’s, your whole body stiffening unconsciously as you brace for the onslaught of sound all over again. But, he doesn’t let go, and with him leading you, nor do you want to stop.

You look towards him in apprehension as your path twists to take you via the hangar, and Poe simply provides you a reassuring nod, clasping your hand all the tighter. “Trust me,” he promises as he feels your pace dragging, and it bolsters you. You do. You do. You do.

You approach the noise and the clamour and you screw your eyes shut, as if that could help. The night shift is working hard on patching X-wings before the morning’s recon flight, the hammered notes of metal on metal resounding through the space. You are about to reach in haste for your headphones; however, you find that, in fact, you don’t even need to. You see one of the Captain’s clock Poe and they share a firm nod with one another. Then, one by one a message is seemingly conveyed seamlessly through the hangar.

You watch with a slack-jaw as every one of the mechanics and droids and officers downs tools as they see you and your Commander approach. You toss your head towards him, expecting to see confusion there too, but all you see from Poe is a knowing, humble smile. All you feel is your hand in his, guiding you onward.

“Poe?” you ask, voice shaking, but he gently encourages you further, until you observe each area on base you walk through responding in much the same way - quietening upon your approach - and entirely confirming your suspicion. That Poe is the one who orchestrated this. For you.

You are so full with emotion at the thought he would do this for you, that it does not even occur to you to think about where he is leading you. That is, not until he brings you to a halt outside the door to the makeshift Rebel bar. He turns his body towards yours and you mirror him, tears shimmying in you eyes and making his appear as a distorted, grinning idiot all over again.

Then, he cups his hand on to your shoulder and swings opens the door, his voice an invitation. A magnet. “After you.”

You take a deep breath, still pretty much lost for words. Apprehensive, at the thought of entering the crowded space. However, you will try for him, you think. You will try for him, because he deserves the world, and you would do anything for him. Look at what he just did for you.

So, instead of any protest out of your mouth, it simply opens and closes wordlessly. You enter the dingy little room, once again bracing yourself for commotion, but floored all over again as you realise… it’s quiet in here too.

Poe reaches to squeeze your hand in his once more, and your eyes are so full with happy tears now that you can barely make him out at all. At least, not beyond the outlined orange of his flight suit and that unmistakeable, raven crown of curls, which never seems to suffer from a helmet.

You blink your tears to the corner of your eyes as you take it all in, in complete shock. The music inside is turned right down, to nothing more than a pleasant background lull - not the usual din, which, at times when you’re overloaded throbs unpleasantly in your skull. As well, the usual throng of patrons have evidently been cleared out. Inside, only one table is occupied: your squadron, sitting there and waving at you with open, inviting smiles.

You grin back at them in utter delight, glancing back and forth between them and Poe, your heart overflowing with gratitude.

“Hey,” he intones softly as an aside to you, as you begin to make your way towards the table together. “You deserved this, okay? You shouldn’t have to miss out on celebrating with us. Not for anything.” You swallow. Your throat feels scratchy and swollen with emotion and you can barely take it. “Anytime you want to step out is all good, alright? If this still is too much or you need a break that’s okay.” He squeezes your hand one more time, before releasing you to take your rightful seat amongst your team. “Whatever you need. We all love you.” He looks down at his scuffed shoes. “Want you with us.”

Still gobsmacked, you take a seat at the table. Jess dips out to get you a drink from the droid behind the counter, and the others envelop you in gentle, amiable chatter. It’s not obtrusive or grating at all, with everyone clearly being mindful of the noise. You find everyone is better able to speak with more hushed tones, given that the music is playing far lower than usual. No-one need strain to be heard above it, and you find it is manageable. Like this, their voices - brimming with joy and peppered with laughter - feel like a cosy, warm blanket wrapped right around you. Knowing that you can step away at any time without anyone judging you? It feels wonderful.

After a few moments of allowing you to bask in the jubilation of your squad - their joy at having you join them - Poe quietly takes his natural place next to you. He shuffles up beside you and he subtly rests his palm on your thigh, letting you know he’s right by your side.

You turn your head towards him, and for once, in this moment, there is no need to say anything at all. Instead, you simply plant your hand right on top of his, twining your fingers, and you watch him attempt to swallow down the goofiest, most bashful smile as you do so.

And so, it continues like this, everyone sharing their battle stories and jokes and gossip. Ripping the shit out Poe - as per usual - but in a way that is entirely fond.

You’re still tired -exhausted even- and so you can’t contribute all that much. You simply enjoy listening. Even so, it feels good to be present. To be a part of things, instead of on the outside.

Best of all, Poe is there too at every turn, to make you feel entirely included. His warm hand remains where it was planted, the heat of him suffusing through the fabric of your trouser leg. He turns towards you, to share every joke and laugh with you. Bigs up your flight skills every chance he gets. And even more than that, there are the other moments too. The moments where he simply turns to look at you, his eyes creasing with fondness. Gleaming with a forceful admiration.

Suddenly, his feelings for you seem so incredibly loud that they are deafening.

You had never dared to dream that Poe might have feelings for you, but suddenly you can hear it so clearly.

You feel entirely overwhelmed, but not at all in the same manner as earlier.

“Poe? Do you mind if we step outside for a second?” Your voice cracks open, and Poe’s thick brows immediately knit together in gentle concern for you.

“Sure,” he nods. “Okay.”

You head outside towards the rear door to the bar and the others excuse you seamlessly, Jess throwing you a covert and all too knowing look at you duck out, as if she is somehow aware of what might befall Poe through those doors. As if, in this quiet, you are screaming it out loud.

“Is it too noisy?” Poe asks as you exit into the cooling night air, rounding your body to face him as the door shushes closed. He throws up a thumb over his shoulder, back in the direction of the bar. “I can tell Snap to stop yabbering if-“

“-No.” You reassure him quickly. It’s not the noise. Not the noise at all. That’s not what you’re overwhelmed by. “It’s perfect. It’s… I wanted to say thank you, Poe.” He blinks a few times in quick succession, lending an all too rare cloak of shyness to his handsome features. “I mean. How did you know, Poe? Exactly what I needed?” Your voice creaks under the weight of him. The burden of your undisclosed love for him. You feel you are ready to buckle. Your knees feel that way too.

He scratches at his crown of curls, a gentle scoff escaping his plush mouth. “Believe it or not, kiddo, I’ve gotten pretty good at knowing when someone wants me to shut up.”

Your mouth tipping up in gentle amusement, you opt to shuffle a little closer to him, until you’re almost toe-to-toe.

He doesn’t back away.

You deliver him a watery smile, overcome by him - though you still don’t relent on the teasing. “Hmm. That figures. It must happen a lot.”

Poe laughs at your dig; and that? That, is the most beautiful sound in the world, you think.

Then, your commander finally falls silent - an all too rare phenomenon. But even so, the way he’s looking at you? It’s ever so loud.

You feel the thrum of butterflies in your middle, and now, it’s you who can’t seem to stop talking. “You know. You should learn to leave some space between words more often, Poe. Some quiet.”

“Oh yeah?“

You swallow, a tremble in your voice, but you shuffle even closer to him and his eyes track your lips as you move, his tongue dragging along his lower lip. “Yeah. ‘Cause then I could show you what happens when we stop talking.”

He shifts his warm, broad hands to your waist. Slots his sturdy thigh in between yours to draw your body closer. More flush to him.

For a moment, you entirely forget how to breathe, and, without the usual pulse of music from the bar, it is hushed enough that you hear the hard swallow which bobs down his throat.

There’s an awful lot of beauty in the pauses, you think. The lull between beats. The spaces between words. The moment of held breath before an exhale, where love might have the opportunity to rise to the surface. In the little gaps between his teeth. The gaps between his spread fingers. The distance between you, waiting to be closed.

Your heart thuds in the cage of your chest, and when you speak next, your words are barely audible. “Can I kiss you, Poe?”

Poe’s gaze dances over your face, enthralled and misted over, and then, with a smug, soft, fond curl of his pretty mouth, he raises a thick finger, pressing it against your lips. “Ssshhhh,” he urges, his voice barely above a whisper. “You really need to stop talking.”

Then, sweeping his hands up to gently cradle your face, Poe kisses you.

His tongue licks like a gentle flame into your mouth, warmth spreading through you. You breathe him in, and let your love for him rise; releasing it on the exhale. Sending it out into the open, no longer buried.

Somethings are too loud to remain unspoken, you realise. And, some things that need saying don’t require any words at all.

You draw back and your eyes lock with his, saying everything there is to know; loud and blaring, without a single decibel.

Poe catches his breath, and then; he kisses you again.

For the first time all day -and the first time for a long time - you feel wholly and entirely at peace.

#poe dameron x reader #poe dameron #star wars #Poe Dameron space cutie #oscar isaac

[cloverstellar]

pov ur me- in the span of the last three hours you have:

had an anon describe to you 'tomitties' (what the fuck)

typed ur mutual's name + the word laughing into search then got confused when miley cyrus filled ur search results

had ur family at dinner take turns screaming into an apple watch to compare who could get the highest decibels

gone insane bc someone ate 'ketchsicles' when they were ten and said it was good

#HOW WE DOIN FOLKS

[ace-but]

Alright, okay, so, hear me out, we have cat hybrids, we have dog hybrids, and we habe fox hybrids. So just imagine..a lion reader. Aghhhhh, like, they probably have the best fluffier hair, not to mention the muscles 😶

I can imagine characters like Itto always challenging them to arm wrestles and stuff. Like, they're one of the few who can match them in raw strength, and being around them makes him feel safe

Or, how about one of the scholars, like Albedo, All Haitam, or Dottore, who are always sorta fascinated by how the lion side of them affects them.

(Reader would probably have a really calm monotone voice right, except when they're mad, then they get REAL LOUD. They sound like they're in a screamo song.)

Characters like Traveller and Xiao who for the first time have someone they can rely on, and not the other way around

Imma say this just once, but naps would be a big plus. They are the perfect napping buddy.

What are your thoughts on this, and what would you like to add on about it? There's just so much to do with the idea!

Okay, I'm done gushing now.

🕊 anon

Okay, so being normal for a single second to say thank you for an excuse to talk about hybrids in Genshin. Pleas forgive any grammar and spelling errors, I am very excited

And now

FROTHING AT THE MOUTH. YOU WANT TO HEAR MY THOUGHTS ON OTHER KINDS OF HYBRIDS? YOU'RE GONNA HEAR ABOUT MY THOUGHTS ON OTHER KINDS OF HYBRIDS.

Lions are one of the most obvious cases in nature of sexual dimorphism. So I think that would carry over to hybrids.

Amab folk naturally developing thicker, longer hair. Perhaps getting a proper mane. I honestly can't think of a reason why they wouldn't have a straight up mane.

The social aspect of it would be interesting. Typically, Lion Hybrids would be Polyamorous. At least, the amab folk would be, but I think the afab too. Families consisting of 1-3 amab or trans men with 4-8 afab or trans women and any of their children. Ignoring for a moment that most lionesses in a normal pride are related to each other.

Sons are typically expected to be out of the home early, while daughters usually stick around for a while.

Originally, the women of these hybrids are hunters and warriors. Men usually staying home to care for the children. But now, more and more of these hybrids are just kind of out there. They're fairly common to see outside of their own communities.

Anyway. Now to what you actually asked for lol.

Itto and a Lion!Reader would be pretty evenly matched in terms of strength. He might find it a little comforting to have someone else be the strongest. Takes off some of the pressure to protect other people.

Lion!Reader would probably have a better reputation than Itto no matter what. Lions are not only seen as powerful, but as being regal and protective. Unless they were actively a violent criminal, Lion!Reader brings people comfort by being around. They have more sensitive ears than a human, sharper vision, and far more muscle. If someone wants to pull something, they probably won't do it with Lion!Reader around!

I think the scholars you've mentioned, with the exception of Alhaitham who I don't think is this kind of nerd, would be fascinated by a Lion hybrid.

Albedo is studying the anatomy, making sketches to improve understanding of the musculature of Lion hybrids. Ahem, if you'll allow him, that is? He's never pushy, but you're very aware that he would like to study you. His eyes are always on you, it would be a little unnerving if you didn't know he was just trying to understand how your body works.

Dottore may attempt a more... direct form of study. You may be subject to many experiments and vivisections. Uh, don't get caught? Or maybe you're into that idk.

You mentioned being loud? Hell yeah a Lion hybrid is loud! Lion!Reader's vocal structure allows for volumes exceeding 114 decibels! That's so loud that your yells could genuinely cause damage to someone's ears. Not yours though, your ears are capable of withstanding this kind of noise. Usually Lion!Reader

You want someone dependable? You got it. Capable of more feats of strength than a human, having more sensitive hearing and smell, and probably being raised with loyalty being drilled into their head, Lion!Reader is absolutely someone to turn to when you need help.

Xiao can rest a little easier when you offer, no, demand to take over his duties for some time. You destroy enemies with no problem, and if he just needs to rest, you watch over him. Xiao won't admit it, but this is the safest he has ever felt. His head on your lap while you silently keep watch.

The traveler can bring you on basically any commission without any sort of worry that you won't be able to handle it Especially if you have a vision. Finally, someone they can have as backup without any concerns of leading them to their death

And yes, perfect napping buddy. You make people feel so safe and warm and happy in your arms. :)))

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin hybrids #hybrid character #lion character

[guiltiest-gear]

"OH MY GOD!!" *dropped by 5 decibels, still loud as fuck

Well okay yeah that would make sense

Always some interesting shit you're sending me anon

#Anon #quote anon

[not-gonna-lose]

pelipper mail: 2 pairs foam earplugs, rated for 32 decibels.

...You're my new favorite anon, I think-

#pkmn irl #pelipper mail