#i have no new ideas. mm. absolutely none.

[ghostboneswrites2]

my birthday is three weeks from Friday. so i was wondering if you can do a daryl dixon x reader? where the reader's birthday is coming up and Daryl overhears Carol and the reader's best friend from before the turn were talking about what to do for the reader's birthday. (the reader and Daryl are in relationship, been together since the farm) Daryl went on a solo run to find her a present. He wants to propose to the reader for her birthday. (You can decide if she wants to surprise him with a pregnancy test or not)

Happy (a day early) birthday!!!! I did like the idea of the pregnancy test but I had trouble writing it in without taking away Daryl's spotlight with his thoughtfulness. Hope you enjoy!!

Summary: After overhearing you talk to Carol and Evie about your birthday, Daryl decides to surprise you with some gifts, and surprise himself with something he was sure would be nothing but fantasy in the new world.

Warnings: None, actually. Fluffy and cute. Some profanity.

Note: Some of the gifts have links so you can see :)

        Daryl sleepily emerged from his basement in his shared home with yourself, Carol, and your best friend Evie, hoping Carol had coffee ready and that the three of you had saved him some. You kept him up all night asking him stupid questions about hypothetical situations like, 'If we were both penguins do you think we'd be mates? Are there any penguins left? Would walkers freeze in such cold climates?'

        He paused just around the corner before he entered the kitchen. As usual, you, Carol, and Evie were standing around the kitchen enjoying some breakfast and coffee, chatting about whatever came up.

        "So what's Daryl taking you to do today?" Evie asked. Daryl pressed his eyebrows together. He didn't have any plans, aside from coffee and casual chores to keep his hands busy.

        "Um.. I don't know. I don't even think he knows about it." You shrugged. You didn't care, it's not like you ever told him. Before you found a community that actually kept track of months and days, birthdays weren't really top priority.

        "What? You didn't tell him?" Evie shoved your shoulder lightly. "C'mon, stop being so humble!" She teased.

        "Want me to tell him?" Carol offered. 

        "Nah." You smiled. "Then he's gonna think I expect something from him. I'm fine, guys. Really."

        Daryl waited a moment before rounding the corner into the kitchen and rubbing his eyes. "Coffee." He murmured. 

        "Mug on the counter." Carol said.

        "Mmph." He groaned sleepily. You stepped over and took the mug before he could grab it and filled it for him, handing it over once you were finished. 

        "Black. Just how ya like." You grinned. He ruffled your hair before he disappeared back to his basement, proud of his acting skills. He pretended to be half awake to make sure what he did next would be an absolute surprise.

----

        "I'll be back in a few hours." He announced, wide awake and dressed for a run. He had his bow slung over his shoulder and a backpack stuffed with whatever he might need for where he was going.

        "Didn't know you had a run today." Carol commented.

        "Mm. Need some things." He shrugged.

        "Okay, be safe. (Y/N)'s with Judith if you wanna let her know."

        "Nah. I'll be back 'fore she notices 'm gone." 

        With that, he set off. He had his mind set on a pawnshop he found a while ago on another run. It was big, and he was sure to find you a gift there. He searched his memories with you for inspiration. Ever since the farm, the two of you had spent a majority of your free time together. He was sure to stumble across an old conversation or something to hint him in the right direction. What had you liked? You had a thing for picking up cool rocks when you were out. You also liked weird shit, at least to him, like horror comics and creepy oddities. He wondered what he'd find like that at a pawn shop. You did mention needing new shoes and clothes recently, so that was a start. 

        When he arrived he emptied his bag in the passenger seat to make room for all the stuff he hoped to find for you. He crept inside the the old shop, silently scanning for walkers. He cleared it out a few months back but who knew what could have found its way inside. To his pleasure the place was empty, so he went on checking up and down the aisles for gifts and treats.

        The first item he found was an antique jewelry box with intricate carvings all over the outside. He figured it would be a good place for all your favorite rocks, so he went ahead and grabbed it. Next was a candle that smelled like  autumn. Apples, cinnamon, rain and leaves. He guessed you'd like anything that smelled nice,  so he grabbed it. He also found a few books and movies for the DVD player. He wandered over the the jewelry and scanned the display case, figuring he might find a nice necklace or bracelet for you. He paused on a little section that seemed to have gemstones and fancy rocks. Or.. crystals? To him, they were just shiny rocks.

        A particular gem caught his eye. It was clear but it looked like it had a tiny coral reef inside. He reached inside the glass and grabbed it, knowing you'd think it was lovely.

        He kept scanning the cases of things that were too expensive to leave out on the shelves. The bracelets all looked to posh for your taste. The necklaces were too gaudy. Maybe you'd like a ring?

        Most of their selection were engagement rings or family heirlooms, typical for a pawn shop where folks come when they're low on cash.

        He was about to give up on the jewelry when something that looked like it came out of a fantasy novel caught his eye. It was a dainty two piece set with a large kite-shaped gem in the center. It reminded him of the crystal he grabbed for you previously, but instead of a colorful reef inside it had wipsy green moss inside. It was like it was meant to be found in the forest. He picked it up and looked it over, imagining it on your finger. He started to picture how it would feel to slide it on your finger himself, then it hit him. Would you ever consider being his wife?

----

        You were fixing yourself a little snack in the kitchen when he got back. "Hey, love." You habitually called out when you heard the door open and close. His heavy boots echoed though the quiet house as he approached you with his bag slung over one shoulder.  "Where ya been?" You wondered.

        "Just out." He said. "Got ya some things."

        "Oh?" You turned away from the counter to face him. He held his bag open and you peeked inside. "What's all this?"

        "Mm-mm." He shrugged. "Happy birthday."

        Your head snapped up. "How'd you know?"

        "Just did."

        "Oh... Wow." You blushed lightly. 

        "Go on, check it out." He urged. You grinned and set the bag on the counter, pulling out each item individually. You seemed excited about the books and movies. The jewelry box definitely caught your eye. "Figured ya'd like it for your rocks and stuff." He commented. 

        "It's so pretty." You admired the darkwood, tracing your fingers over the carvings. "That's so thoughtful."

        You found the candle next and took a whiff. "Mmm. Like fall!" You beamed. He smiled faintly at your excitement. You gasped when you pulled out the last item. "Oh..my..God.." You breathed. "It looks like a reef!" You gawked at the beautiful specimen of garden quartz. "I've always wanted one of these but they're so expensive -- or, were so expensive."

        You pulled him into a tight hug. "Best birthday gifts ever." You said giddily.

        "That ain't all." He mumbled, unsure if he was ready for the next part.

        "Oh. Really?" You were a little caught off guard. What else could there be, a new car?

        "Uh-huh." He nodded as you pulled away from the hug. He backed up a little and reached in the pocket inside his vest, pulling out a closed fist. "Gimme your hand."

        You pushed your brows together in confusion as you held out your hand, palm up. He gently turned your and over and slid the two rings on your finger -- the finger -- and tried to contain his nerves as he peeked up at your face through his hair.

        You had a mixture of shock, disbelief, and awe written all over it as you watched the two bands slide up to the base of your finger.

        "Oh.." You breathed, lost for words.

        "Was just thinkin'... Can't imagine it matters much anymore, but.." He took a breath. "Thought maybe we could--"

        You tackled him back in a tight embrace, cutting him off. He stumbled back and steadied himself against the kitchen island, chuckling with relief. You sniffled.

        "Yes." You tried not to cry.

        "Yeah?" He smiled, holding his arms around your waist.

        "Yeah." You nodded and giggled through your tears of joy. 

Join the taglist! || Masterlist

tags: @kissmeunicornbaobei @thesadcatt0 @clairealeehelsing @duckybird101 @tmntfixationxreader @ryoujoking @blackvelveteen1339 @yondus-girl @ladylincoln @sunshinebug9 @saylum559 @yoowhatthefuck @duffmckagansbandana @celtic-crossbow

#daryl x reader #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon #daryl x female reader #twd daryl #daryl fanfiction #daryl twd #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl x y/n #daryl x you

[dreadsuitsamus]

hi! i’m not sure if you’ve done this before but.. could i please request a vegeta x human!reader who’s heavily tattooed (legs, arms)? i have no real idea for a plot line for it but gather it’s not something he’s seen a whole lot of since coming to earth - if at all! happy for either SFW or NSFW, completely up to you if you don’t mind the idea? have a lovely day!

For Fun | Vegeta x Reader |

author's note: this idea has absolutely made my day. it just begs for a sweet little vegeta learning moment, since normally it's him explaining saiyan culture. i have chosen the sfw path here! it's also funny bc i've been contemplating tattoos lol and a vegeta tattoo has been on the brain for some time now. thank you for your request!!!! 🩷🩷🩷

pairing: vegeta x fem!reader

warnings: sfw, reader has tattoos, some nudity but no smut or anything remotely nsfw, post-namek but pre-androids and cell

You can feel Vegeta's eyes on you as you work on his suit, Bulma's lab being the only place you feel comfortable sharing space with him in— the racket of the tools at the very least would alert somebody of something nefarious happening. Your dear sister just had to have a soft heart (or rather, quite the boner) for the Saiyan, and now it's you that suffers the consequences while you patch up the blue suit with a precise needle and thread.

"I'm not going to ruin it." You snark at him, not exactly happy to be in his presence. He's a murderer! "I've fixed it for you before without an issue." Bulma's doing her best to copy whatever material this suit is made of, but she's having trouble competing with alien technology— though she'll certainly have it figured out soon. She's a petty thing on the regular, but test her intelligence with a challenge like this and she's more stubborn than acne on an asscheek.

"Mm." He never talks much, at least. But as you stretch your arm out to pull the thread taught, Vegeta moves to take your wrist in his hand. While strong and easily capable of smashing your poor bones to smithereens, his touch is on the softer side.

"What in the world are you doing?" Are aliens unaware of personal space??

Ignoring you initially, Vegeta's gloved fingers curiously glide along your forearm, eyes focused on the artwork adorning your skin. "Your tattoos make little sense. What sort of culture is this?"

"Culture?" You repeat the word dumbly, fighting the urge that lingers just under your skin, heart rate picking up as you will yourself not to shiver at his touch.

"These flowers and symbols, what do they represent? I've been on Earth long enough to know the culture here is nothing like these— furthermore, the lab rat has none at all."

The laugh that bubbles from your chest is easy. Perhaps Earth is the only planet, or one of few, with inhabitants that indulge in tattoos for pleasure rather than cultural representation. "They aren't part of any culture, Vegeta."

"Then what are they?" His brow furrows rather adorably, his lips pulling into a pout as you laugh at his ignorance.

"For fun."

"You marked yourself permanently for fun?"

"Sure did. I got tons of 'em. Some of 'em mean somethin', but for the most part they just bring me joy."

Vegeta releases you finally, shaking his head in a way that reminds you of your father when you first started inking up. "Silly Earth woman…"

"Oh come on. Tell me they aren't pretty." You smirk softly, eyes glittering with the twinkles of mischief. This is a new light on Vegeta, one that perhaps drew Bulma's generosity his way in the first place.

"Tch." A blush rises to his cheeks and he looks away, staring a hole into the wall. "They're not ugly."

A not-so-pretty snort escapes you as you resume patching the suit up, tying and clipping off the end of the thread after the hole is closed up. "I got my first tattoo when I was seventeen. I was young and dumb and in love with a guy I thought I would be with forever." You murmur softly, pulling up the leg of your sweatpants to show off the heart by your ankle. It's old and faded by now, but your lips still pull into a smile at it.

Vegeta takes the moment to examine it, brushing a curious knuckle over the tattoo. His curiosity is sweet, and this must've been on his mind for ages now— it's not like him to get handsy or remotely talkative at all. "Saiyans never took part in these."

It makes all the sense in the world; from what you've pieced together by Vegeta's quiet, rarely spoken about tales of home and with the love for fighting that gushes from both his and Goku's hearts, Saiyans aren't exactly sentimental. "Well… You're on Earth now. You could get a tattoo just for the hell of it."

"I have no need." Vegeta looks away again, and you shrug to yourself.

"They're not for everyone, I guess." You hold the repaired suit out, feeling a tad bummed out that the sight of him in a tank top and sweatpants will be gone soon, but a lilt of surprise thrums in your heart when he sets it on the table and looks at you instead.

"Do you… have more of them?"

You laugh and tug at your t-shirt, pulling it off in the face of the blushing prince and revealing several more tattoos, most of which he's never seen before. "You got time?"

"You could certainly warn a man before you start stripping." He grumbles out, forever the prude even in the face of a gorgeous woman and her body.

"So sorry." Your tease bounces off of him as his curious fingers run along the lines on your tummy, sides and just below your breast. You're bare to him almost entirely, as you've never worn a bra at home and certainly didn't intend to start just because a man moved in, though his eyes and touch are calmly curious and genuinely interested in the artwork you're laced with, rather than the perky breasts and soft skin that would have most men acting a fool by now.

It almost has you feeling ugly, though that near-permanent tint of red that dusts his cheekbones reminds you otherwise.

"Don't forget the one on my back." Your murmur is gentle, only there to invite him further into the journey without jostling his concentration too much. And he takes your advice, stepping behind you while tracing the intricate linework of the massive tattoo, pausing at the sight of the gorgeous mural on your back. You've spent quite a bit of money on this, suffered the pain of the needle piercing and permanently scarring your skin to the patterns that'll forever mark you, and the admiration Vegeta has for your commitment alone is monumental.

Even gloved, his touch warms your skin in the lab's cool conditions and that little spot on your back, the one that had you shaking and embarrassed as your tattoo artist that, bless his resilience, dealt with with more care than a fucking surgeon to properly tattoo, flutters against the accidental tickle. You shift, muffling a laugh into your palm and there's a pause before Vegeta drags his fingertips over the spot again, and then once more.

"Your laugh isn't ugly either." He mutters and steps away, the warmth of his proximity erased and goosebumps covering your body now.

Standing ten toes down and looking over your shoulder, your lips twist in gentle glee upon catching his dark eyes with your own. It's taken some time, but you've finally found what Bulma saw in Vegeta that allowed him into your shared home.

He's flustered by such intimacy and he quickly snatches his Saiyan suit up before rushing towards the door. "Put a shirt on, you vile woman, or you'll catch a cold." Vegeta grumbles out, hightailing it towards the comfort of his gravity room and far away from whatever the hell just happened.

"Must be the first time he touched a woman." You snicker, tugging your shirt on and cleaning up the mess, lest your sister properly bitch you out for it later on.

The ghost of his touch remains, and even under the duress of several times Earth's gravity, Vegeta's palms fondly remember the feeling of your skin.

#vegeta x reader #vegeta x you #dbz imagine #vegeta imagine #vegeta #x reader #x you #reader insert

[strawberryniceblock]

riz gukgak headcanon: boy can dance, but only to electronic and swing music.

the bad kids once asked riz at a party if he would dance with everyone and he says he doesn't know how. cause yeah, he doesn't know how to tango or waltz. he sure as hell doesn't know how do dance like people do in clubs.

but he grew up listening to jazz and swing, sklonda would always put it on when she needed the focus and energy. so riz gets used to having electro swing playing in the background to save himself from silence while he works.

the first time the bad kids see riz dance, he has no idea they're there. they were coming around to his office to talk about new clues in a case only to walk in and find him absolutely cutting a goddamn rug.

riz moves sharp and swift, just like he fights. it's forceful and full of energy. none of them speak when met with the sight of riz jumping and spinning around his office until he turns on his heel and spots the group in the doorway.

(tldr: I was listening to caravan palace and thought "mm yes, riz can dance to this and only this")

#riz gukgak #fantasy high #dimension 20 #fhjy #fhsy

[inlocusmads]

kindness and other things you can expect from your boss ~ trystan x nora

The quarterly honour-your-employees day coincides with Nora's birthday. Everyone wants to be 'best detective/genius' giving Mafalda a long overdue headache. (crimes of passion)

wc: 1.3k, general audiences a/n: guys guys guys guys guys the incredible wonderful @stars-are-within-me (I'm literally at a loss for words) with the collective awesomeness of Thia from @oh-so-youre-a-nerd gave me this ABSOLUTE BEAUTY for Nora's birthday which is, well, right now!

I'm still processing this surprise and it's like - I have a lot of thoughts but they're all "ghjkfdfvgbhjkgfdsdfg" so I have no idea how to make sense of "dfghjkjhgfdvbnm" and a lot of pillow-screaming. Instead, I wrote a drabble!

***

“All right, all right, all right.” Mafalda snapped her fingers. “Clearly the idea is to not perpetuate unhealthy working environments.”

“She means you.” Ruby whispered to Nora.

“Hey, I am perfectly deserving of the plaque.”

“You have been competing for the plaque since the plaque was introduced.” Luke wielded his power of statistics. “And have won like a lot of times already, sit down.”

“It was three times, man. You had a five-quarter streak three years ago.”

“C’mon, go easy on him.” Ruby insisted.

“As if you didn’t get the award like fifteen times already.” Luke countered. “I am very proud of you by the way, but seriously babe. You earned boss’s favor ever since you cracked the Darcy Lever and the Sunlight Films conspiracy from thumb prints across beer glasses.” 

“It was a slow year for you, Nora.” Mafalda supplied, quickly subverting the topic. “Perhaps the award should go to, erm-,” - she scanned the room, “- the point is, everyone did well.”

“Are you saying my progress matters less because I happened to take care of myself much more in the last quarter leading up to today, and didn’t spend all that time worrying about work in a society that deems itself pro-hustle at the cost of everyone’s mental health?”

“Are you really playing the but-it’s-my-birthday card right now?” Mafalda crossed her arms, eyebrows raised.

“Hey, everyone enjoyed the burger combos on me, didn’t you all?”

Everyone turned their attention to Trystan who had his feet propped up on Nora’s desk, indulging in his first (that they knew of) greasy food exploit. “Mm” - he mumbled, taking quick bites of his cheeseburger. “Thish is one of the besh burgers I have ever had. We had a branch in Drakkos that closed ten years ago.” - he licked the sauce off his fingers before staring at the others who were staring at him. “What?”

“Just because it is your birthday that doesn’t mean you’re getting the plaque.” Ruby reasoned. “Right Mafalda?”

“I hate this.” she responded.

“See? Boss sees reason.”

“But c’mon -- it’s -- what is one more quarter? I just made a place for it on my wall.”

“Look, we all did really well these months.” Luke played the mediator. “Ruby’s faster forensic processing saved us a lot of time. I updated all of our databases so any new information is constantly added to pre-set dossiers. Nora’s gotten pretty good at -- filing, I guess and Trystan’s--”

“What? I did stuff. I did the--” Trystan snapped his fingers, trying to recollect something. “-- the thing.”

“You’re not being helpful.” Nora said.

“Good. I would hate to be of any help.” Trystan tossed a stray French fry in the air and caught it with his teeth. “The whole point of working as a private detective--”

“Consultant.” 

“As a private detective-slash-consultant--”

“Just a consultant.”

“And a consultant-- is that it is independent of the trivialities of a cubical-shaped office. No Employee of the Month, none of that.”

“You have never worked in an office.” Luke added quietly.

“The point is- they matter very less to me. I am all about the work. And the fun.” he tossed another fry into the air and caught it at the nick of time. “Mostly just the fun. All right, maybe it is all about the fun.”

“Too bad because the award would have gone to you.” 

A chorus of “What?”s erupted. Mafalda picked up the Best Detective/Genius Award from its permanent (now temporary) place on Nora’s desk and handed it over to him. The term was, well, outdated. They couldn’t have “Employee of the Month” considering everyone had unique job titles and it would be weird to equate forensic processing with on-foot investigations. The only thing they could somewhat compare was everyone’s role in a case and how much they were able to contribute towards faster getting-through-the-stack-of-files.

“Oh I love this!” Trystan read the plaque. 

“This doesn’t--” Nora started to protest, but quickly withdrew it. “I suppose he deserves it.”

“Not cool, boss, not cool at all.” Luke heckled. “It doesn’t make sense, how-”

“It makes perfect sense to me, Luke. Trystan has learned a lot in his time here, he has used his resources for the good of the job, he is a valuable person on the team - on many occasions risking his life especially with his status as a celebrity-- and well-” Mafalda shrugged. “He is good at what he does. It makes sense to encourage a new team player. And I would insist Nora to give it out. Pass on the plaque from the former winner to the current winner. Ensures teamsmanship in the -- I’m sorry, my Lia just started soccer-- the point is, before I go off on a tangent, please uh, clap. Thank you. Do not make me do this again.”

Except instead of the room erupting with scattered applause, confused murmurs and Luke’s rebuttals just after he had proclaimed everyone was deserving of the award, Trystan pulled open the music app to look up ‘royalty free award music’ and hit play. 

“No-- no you are not making it into a thing.”

“I am definitely making it into a thing.” Trystan threw Nora a smirk and unfolded a cardboard crown that the kind people at the burger place had given along with the food. When everyone threw him perplexed looks, he shrugged, “Only coronation I’d get to take part in my life.” and tossed his phone at Mafalda. “Take a picture for me?”

“No.”

“Please, boss?"

She didn't object further.

A good solid ten minutes went by with them figuring out the correct pose. Trystan wanted Nora to pose as if she’s handing him the plaque. Then he decided he no longer wanted a picture and insisted his boss press record instead. A few minutes went by because Mafalda had accidentally clicked on slo-mo and they had to rectify that and ensure the filters were all set right.

They also had to get the lighting correctly, so Ruby had to stand holding the curtain up at a certain angle so the natural sunlight could hit their faces right. Luke was tasked with fishing a coronation mantle out of the box of costumes in the back of the closet, but was only successful at finding a red bedsheet and a fur wrap-around, so that’d have to do.

Fifteen minutes later, with the royalty free coronation music playing its tenth loop, pictures were taken.

“You know what? I am amending it. Trystan shares the prize with Nora.” Mafalda decided out of the blue, because she loved being an agent of chaos like that.

Another chorus of ‘What? What?” ensued. A plot twist? An amendment to the sacred employee code? Can Mafalda (even though she is literally the boss) do that? Is she for real? Luke blamed what he called the ‘birthday bias’. He never got to share the medallion with Ruby on his birthday. It wasn’t fair. 

Ruby gave up on the lighting and was arguing with Mafalda over Nora’s five-win sweep. There were shouts to scrap the policy entirely. Some (Nora) argued on behalf of all the present January-born 33-year olds. Some (also Nora) advocated for the inherent sanctity of the all-or-nothing policy behind the ‘Best Detective/Genius’ award - “either one person gets it or nobody gets it! We are not doing halves!”

Forty five minutes later after fervent arguing, with Trystan’s phone charging in the background thanks to the battery draining after playing the royalty anthem a hundred times, the five of them were able to calm down and think rationally. 

Clearly Nora deserved the award as much as Trystan did - it was a slow, but rough year for both of them - and well, it was mostly just an incentive to get at least half the people to agree on something and piss the other half off, instead of going 25-75.

 Mafalda hated divide-and-conquer as much as the next guy, but hey, you could only turn thirty-three once.

***

A/N: Okay now I can scream.

DFGHJKFTGJHKJLJHDGFSDGHFJKLKJBNVCXDFSGRTYTULJNBMVNCBXVDSGRYRDSXCERVTYBFUNIHNYBTFVDRCXSCRVDTBFYGNUHIKYBJVTDHCSHRVDTBFYGNUHMIJ

This is honestly the most thoughtful thing and like, ugh Stars, how are you the nicest, most wonderful person to ever possibly walk this Earth? It brings me so much joy that you guys show so much love and support to the actual gremlins I write about. Thia, of course, I just -- I just am crying at the details - the funky rings on Trystan's fingers, Nora's scar, JUST THEM, like it's just it is the most touching feeling to like have a piece of fanart that just *gets* your gremlins - not only the bigger details, but the smaller ones that just makes it so incredibly special - I just -- I can't, I'm literally going to start crying again lmao.

Thank you THANK YOU so much for this, I might have to be the Devil and acquire ten million souls to like repay this thoughtful gesture, it is just EVERYTHING TO ME, OKAY? Now brb I'm just gonna continue crying, screaming, kicking my feet in the air and just being the most insufferable person offline about it.

ALSO Fun factoid nobody-asked-for: I was meant to write a Heist fic y'know as a homage to Brooklyn 99 and the "Detective/Genius" plaque but then it got too long and kind of went nowhere at the moment, so I was like "why not write something from mafalda's point of view" so here you go lmaoooo. But seriously, I love the B99 reference - literally one of my fav shows! This is just so sweet, I'm just going to keep screaming about this piece of fanart for like ever and ever

Tagging:

perma: @quixoticdreamer16 @tessa-liam @stars-are-within-me

crimes: @trappedinfanfiction @ao719 @cassie-thorne @peonierose @moominofthevalley @jerzwriter

#crimes of passion #crimes of passion fics #w:inlocusmads #trystan x nora #trystan thorne x mc #gorgeous art!! #gifts from friends #by: oh so youre a nerd

[insurrection-if]

ooo you're developing a new IF, author?

Aha, not quite! (；´∀｀)

Hunters is a part of the interconnected Universe of fiction concepts I have, so its nothing new in the catalogue. Other ideas in that Universe—Bird Caught in Wires (cyberpunk), In Blind Reverence (crime thriller?), and Faith & Beauty (fantasy intrigue with romance focus)—are much more developed in characters, plot, and concepts while dating back to my high school years.

Though, fun fact, when I decided to try my hand at IF, Hunters was a main contender for adaptation alongside Faith & Beauty and Insurrection. Insurrection being the oldest and most developed with its characters, concept, and plot trajectory won out since I thought that would translate to less pre-development revising for interactive storytelling . . . Until the HAWKS replaced the CONDORS as the core protagonists, thus setting so much pre-development on fire until I had to rebuilt from the ashes, haha! （；^ω^）

All the ideas in this Universe, except for Insurrection, are no priority or actualized IF. They’re more so pallet cleansers to just change things up in my daydreams so it’s not Insurrection overload in my brain, and that leads to ideas I figure I might as well jot down.

Hunters rests more on the undeveloped side—set pieces / realms, concepts, cultures, etc.—as it is all more so vague on its elements. The first defined characters other than vague outlines or silhouettes in my head are the brainstormed RO cast— and that allows me to get the ball rolling on an extended cast and plot around them . . . though in a rather passive manner as Insurrection takes the lead.

Hunters is particularly fun for me since it's so freeform. Mm, on the scale from ordered to chaos, it would rest second-to-last on chaotic (since it's so freedom in its elements) while the absolute chaotic end of the scale is occupied by the entire appeal of This World Was Never Ours which (to me) is the pure mashup and lawlessness of the setting and characters. Different planets, deities, societies, species, customs, worship, so on . . . it's all quite entertaining to me as it allows for so much switch-up and exploration!

I'll indulge myself a bit and share the (half-)mortal RO concepts below the cut. Aside from them, the romanceable Divines I have in mind would be founded upon Desire, Death, Justice, and Creation. Again though, Insurrection is the sole active IF on my plate, haha! (ｏ'ｖ｀ｂ)ｂ

Creed / Verina

Deemed a Paragon, etched into eternal myth, the Knight exhibits pride and grace with the subtle elegance worthy of a natural-born Divine. Sired by the Abyss and a Star, the Knight has been condemned to an immortal existence— lonely eons given meaning through their service to Order in the face of Chaos. Severe in their presence, righteous in their actions, none would dare to defy their curt and cold command. Their initiation into the Hunters is near ancient, though not soon enough to stand as a core founder. Recent centuries have inspired their bitter distaste towards most others that bear the society's mark, yet still they remain faithful to the 'brotherhood' their fellow Hunters demand.

Their half-Celestial nature is unhidden to the eye. Broad and muscular, the nightly darkness of their surface entraps shifting hues of violet and blinking stars contained within their humanoid form. Their hair, composed of a brilliant white flame kept short and neat when in a male form or flowing to their mid-back in a female form, flickers with life in accordance to their movement and emotions - always seeming to retain a soft brush as though caught within an eternal breeze. The hollowed space where human eyes would rest instead contains miniature blue suns. Typically mouthless, their face may adapt to inhabit more humanoid features such as a nose or mouth to better convey their emotions. Most notable about their shape is it’s tendency to melt into the shadows, capable of consuming an audience or room in its darkness or extending into tendrils at will. Their form is ultimately a shell, malleable yet fixed.

Their presence remains limited to the Courts of Divines or the battlefield, a life reflected in their penchant for black and blue-tinted ceremonial armor and attachment to their blade gifted by Justice.

Doran / Iris

Raised in the Court of Love, and former military in the realm of Curiosity, Doran / Iris is easily mistakable for yet another member of lowly humankind. Cunning and sly, playful with danger and desire, they are driven by their sense of curiosity and generous self-interest. They are a closet academic (an expert in histories, divinities, and customs) and bear a neutral stance on the killing of gods (caring more so for the reward that follows the deed). Flirtatious with rare intent to follow through, their true love seems to be the thought of adventure knocking at their door. Truly, their rank as a Hunter originated more from a desire to uncover the mysteries surrounding the exclusive and secretive organization from within than anything else. If anything, they might have been more suited to the life of a rogue or thief, yet the notoriety prestige of a Hunter keeps their lifestyle entertaining enough to not complain. Perhaps the most closely guarded secret about their person is their nature as a shapeshifter . . . a trait that proves to be most useful when unknown to others.

Their default human-esque appearance is fitted with pale skin, choppy golden hair, upturned green eyes, and a beauty mark rested upon their upper right cheek. Their lithe frame is fitted with black dress pants. pristine leather shoes, leather gloves, a half-open bell sleeved (corset) top, and half-cloak - though their attire is quite adaptable based on their immediate environment.

They are often found in forbidden vaults, courts, sanctuaries, palaces, or wherever else trouble and excitement can be stolen (or simply found).

Oliver / Olive

Partnered with the MC upon their initiation, Olive(r) seems to be a far cry from the iconic battle-hardened image of a Hunter. Born in the realm of Tranquility, their calm and amiable nature has made them quite the mediator in foreign lands. Impossibly tall with lean musculature, their demure stance greatly veils the true danger they possess as an elite archer trained in the Border Guard. Their home clan, abundant and lively, stirs homesickness through the decades spent apart, yet the former hunter and guard is loyal to the duty they've sworn. Olive(r) seeks out corrupt and cruel deities to deliver a swift and justified end, though they greatly fear the fate of the worshippers left behind.

Adorned in tight and sparse embroidered leather - rarely agreeing to more than low-waisted leather bottoms, boots, belt, and half-jacket (+ bra if female) - Olive(r) is more used to the free-spirited standard of appearance that is not always acceptable abroad. Their straight and silky dark turquoise locks, loose if male and braided if female, extends to their waist while bearing the occasional flower (or crown of them if possible). Their complexion ranges across their entire frame from teal to a forest green, sporadic and vague spots or gradients altering based on emotion, yet their entire body becomes luminescent in darkness as their colors shift from a royal purple to lavender shades. Their ears are elongated and sharp, commonly jutting out horizontally with considerable rotation and motor control. Their teeth are blunt, their pupils are rectangular, and (if male) white horns of a stag protrude from his forehead or (if female) an amethyst gem rests in the center of her forehead. And what cannot be overlooked is the flexible tail that grazes along the floor as a commonly inconvenient feature in certain realms.

Always close to the MC’s side, they often prefer to wander among the locals and immerse themselves in the common lives of the people to better assess the injustices or graces of the ruling Divine in that domain.

Itzal / Ihintza

Vindictive and harsh, the child to Grief has drowned themself in an endless pool of blood and vendettas. Their tongue is sharp fittingly sharp for their biting words. There is a fire in their eyes, a relentless passion in the methodical hunt they lead. They tend to become possessive over those under their protection, and bear a general melancholic air beneath the aggressive nature they try to exude. A wanderer by heart, they demonstrate few moral boundaries when it comes to their sense of justice and survival. They bear little to no reservations on which Divines to slaughter, making them a favored companion / courtier to the otherwise soft-spoken Death. Actions often precede words in their company, and bloodthirst tends to arise when their self-discipline slips from their grasp. A loner and outcast, they long to possess some sense of salvation or hope in their dreaded immortal existence.

Black paint smears itself across the upper portion of their face. Crimson outlines their eyes before trailing down their cheeks in fading lines. Ashen skin, blackened up to the elbows with jagged ends to the ichor shade, has become horribly scarred through the onslaught of pain and punishment received over a lifetime. Their sharp eyes, partially obscured by their (if male) short and curly or (if female) hip-length and curly dark hair, contain nothing but a vibrant red that glows in darkness. Long black claws extend from their rough hands, curved black horns protrude from their head, leathery wings extend from their back, and elven ears mark their mortal parentage. Dual fangs along their upper and bottom row of teeth further heighten their threatening appearance, though their mouth is often veiled behind a thick black scarf paired with a dark hood. Light armor outlines their (if male) husky or (if female) curvaceous figure and pairs with high boots and heavy jewelry along their ears. Painted markings in crimson or black across their physique often tell the tale of their most recent kills, washed through magical ritual only when room is needed for a tale more glorious or meaningful.

Their presence roams across broken lands left in ruin, near inaccessible to the common mortal. If not lurking near their next mark, they keep to the fringes of life.

Shahbaz/ Kamaria

More akin to an assassin than Hunter, they toe the line of disgrace as they have turned their sights more to mortal corruption while seemingly blind to the whims of the Divine. Quiet and reserved, their presence often remains undetected as death follows in their wake. Born in godless lands, their survival to this point has been hard-earned and riddled with poisonous guilt. Humble and cautious, they tend to observe from the shadows and work independently from those that may turn their blades upon them in the blink of an eye. They are diligent, dependable, but somewhat dreamy as they become absorbed in their ponderous musings that bring much needed ease and reflection to their soul. As a Hunter, they are notoriously brutal and selective, feared by mortals as much as they are feared by Divines despite never once causing an ounce of harm to the (undeserving) former. Truly, in their heart of hearts, there is a kind mercy for the helpless and downtrodden beneath the terrifying visage their reputation has branded upon them.

For such a subdued personality, their athletic presence provides a sharp contrast with its striking harshness and allure. Their hardened skin is composed of volcanic rock, magma encased with an eternal burning flow beneath their rough surface. Its glow emits from their opened mouth (even slightly through pressed lips), their empty gaze, and the unhealed cracks when broken by assailants. Enchantment allows their skin to soften into a more fleshy substance, still heated beneath one’s touch and radiant with a orangish-red tint, though the activation of this magic is signified by azure markings that hum with a dim light across the entirety of their flesh. The outer layers of their hair are a deep red, brightened by the orange lumination in the under layers. Shahbaz tries to style the thick waves back from his face whereas Kamaria lets her locks bounce at a chin-length. Their ears are small and pointed, and their tongue is elongated in a snake-like fashion. They often dress in heavy red traveling robes with golden accents, but generally adopt local attire that offers the most masking to their visage. They bear a fondness for jewelry, yet forgo the acquirement of it due to fears of marking themself as a target for thieves and criminals. Instead, their twin blades must suffice.

Their time is spent in quiet sanctuaries in the heart of busy abundance, seeking out isolation while keeping the assurance of life close by.

#hunters if #author

[latibvles]

SAD, BEAUTIFUL, TRAGIC.

beautiful, tragic. // no hard feelings.

it's important to take a break sometimes.

masterlist | gallery | taglist

last update for this week i swear I just needed to get this out before I combust

TAGLIST: @softguarnere , @liebgotts-lovergirl , @monalistastwin

WARNINGS: none

SUMMARY: there are two distinct groups in the Nursing Company — those who go out and those who don't. Apparently, Daisy is meant to spend a night with the former.

In their Company, there seems to be two distinct groups.

About twenty of their women belonged to some hospital prior to this one. Transfers from 128th, or 42nd, or whichever field hospitals dotted the shores of Normandy or even came from the cities themselves. The other fifty are fresh-faced 2nd Lieutenants, straight off the boat. She figured that one out when she stopped by Ginny’s billet one night to ensure their Captain hadn’t worked herself into an early grave.

After getting the numbers, it seemed to make itself more apparent in real life as well.

A lot of the newer women are absolutely enamored with the idea of going to the Bell, or the Boar when off-duty. Sometimes Daisy watches them hop into jeeps that will take them fifteen minutes into town. Sometimes she doesn’t. In the past two weeks — it’s become Rogers’ mission to get her to go with them ‘just one time!’

“I’m just sayin’! I think you could use a break! If you’re not with us you’re helpin’ Lieutenant McCarney or Captain Brant or doin’ somethin’ or other,” She hums out, as they carry their respective crates filled with new uniforms over to the supply office. “Could meet a couple boys, play a game — y’know Jane’s gettin’ real good at darts and I think it’s got half to do with that sergeant that’s been hangin’ offa her.”

Laura Rogers is a new nurse, dropped in and expected to keep up with the rest. Her features are soft and almost princess-like, big blue eyes and a near ever-lasting dreamlike smile on her face. Her hair is blonde, but even lighter than Ginny’s — a near platinum color. It came as little surprise to her when she learned that before this, Rogers had been an aspiring pin-up model. Couple it with her soft southern accent and the way that every step she takes is almost impossibly fluid, the woman honestly seems like a dream in and of itself.

Daisy decides to entertain the gossip, if only for a few moments.

“Sergeant? Do tell.” Laura smiles, giddy as a schoolgirl.

“Mm. Big blue eyes. Sweet talker. I think he likes chasin’ her around ‘cause she hasn’t given him a thing beyond that smile of hers and a peck on the cheek. Oh! And he’s got just the cutest crooked tooth when he flashes his smile. I’m tellin’ ya I think you’d really like the boys down there!”

Even when first reaching Europe, Daisy didn’t venture off hospital grounds much. It was neither here nor there — Rita would get off grounds when she could with the other women to venture out and meet people. Once, Ginny accompanied her and returned with a fond story of a quieter Lieutenant at the officer’s club that she had good conversation with. Daisy, on the other hand, spent a lot of time in the ward, helping out even if she didn’t have to, or writing letters home. 

Now, it seems that the universe had different plans for her.

“You just don’t take no for an answer, huh Rogers?” The woman smiles proudly once they set the boxes down, leaving them with the quartermaster.

“If I did I woulda never been a pin-up model or a combat nurse.” She declares, nose in the air and hands on her hips. Daisy chuckles to herself, smiling in spite of the woman’s antics. And to think just a few weeks ago, the woman could barely do the morning run.

It’s how she finds herself in front of a mirror on a Friday night, staring at herself in the mirror with a scrutinizing expression on her face. Brows furrowed, she’s tried her best to replicate one of the nicer hairstyles Patty has done on her countless times, always somehow managing to make her hair seem shorter than it actually is. She thinks she’s gotten it almost right, the ends pinned into loops at the base of her neck — she’s already sleeping in the Campbells’ son’s room, she isn’t going to ask for their hair curlers too.

In the reflection, she can hear Rita’s snickering. Daisy narrows her eyes.

“I’ve half a mind to leave you here, Miss McCarney.”

“It’ll be a cold day in hell before I let you keep the boys to yourself, Miss Clarke,” she rises to her feet and goes over to tug on Daisy’s ear. She snorts and swats at her friend half-heartedly, Rita grabbing her hand before she can strike her and promptly dragging her away. “Now quit fussing over yourself and lets go — been a long damn time since I’ve got a night off and I’ll be damned if I spend the whole of it watching you stress over your hair.”

Daisy doesn’t object, allowing the woman to drag her along. There’s a jeep waiting for them, a familiar freckle-faced woman in the passenger’s seat. Behind her, is a slightly less familiar woman, her hair a coppery color, drumming out a beat on the back of the driver’s seat. Daisy smiles at Patty, lets out a sigh of her own.

“If I knew you were coming I would’ve asked you to do my hair. Would’ve saved me a lot of harassment,” She gives Rita a blatant side eye, and the woman scoffs and sucks her teeth. Patty giggles, and Daisy shifts her gaze to Jane Gray, who nods in her direction as a form of acknowledgement, her hazel eyes pensive.

“Heard you’ve made a darts partner out of a sergeant.”

The girl’s cheeks flush, and she breaks eye contact.

“And I’m guessing you heard that from Rogers?” Daisy gets into the back and Rita takes the wheel, nodding as she does so. “...he’s uh, he’s somethin’ alright, I can say that much.” She’s short with the reply, giving Daisy something of a stiff nod.

Daisy can’t help but notice that Jane Gray is more… enigmatic in nature. Quiet, observant, a near polar opposite to Laura’s extroversion, and yet they travel arm-in-arm almost everywhere. Daisy had met introverted people, and it wasn’t anything that she wasn’t used to, but with Jane she can’t help but notice how quick she is to retreat from the conversation, continuing to drum her fingers on the seat as Patty and Rita chatter away in the front.

Not wanting to overstep her bounds — she lets the conversation die there.

The Bell is busy. There’s laughter and the clinking of glasses and it doesn’t take long for her to spot Laura, chattering away to a very familiar and very flustered soldier. She isn’t sure if Malarkey’s cheeks are flushed from the drinks or from the way Laura’s excitedly holding onto his hands as she chatters away. Regardless, and unsurprisingly, she can pick out a few mildly envious gazes from a couple men in the room.

“She’s cast her spell, it seems,” Accompanied with a melodramatic sigh and a bemused smile, Catherine Ward walks over, reaching for Jane’s hand which she gladly takes. “We really ought to get her a wand, maybe a nice hat?” Rita snorts at that, rolling her eyes lightheartedly. Another woman from Sicily, Catherine was also a quieter type. She had inky black curls and dark eyes to match, even with a resting face — she always seemed stern, like a mother would. She’d also mentioned a thing or two about a pilot she was seeing before the war started — so the likelihood of her playing chaperone for the night is high, and a position Daisy would like to partake in if not for…

“You’ve gotta be shittin’ me!” At this point, the familiar tenor makes a smile creep onto her face. Liebgott saunters over, just as lanky and loud and full of grandeur as he does each time he demands her attention. His gaze flits between her, and then Rita. Catherine, Jane, and Patty had idled their way towards a table Catherine had been keeping warm. She doesn’t miss the twitch of the corner of his lip as his gaze lingers on Rita for a bit longer, who stares at him with a raised brow and arms folded across her chest.

He extends his hand to her in a gesture that’s slowly becoming more familiar. Daisy takes it, allowing him to spin her for a moment and whistle, low and teasing. She rolls her eyes.

“Was wonderin’ when you’d show up around here.”

“Cause I totally struck you as a party-goer, right?” Liebgott laughs at that, and then turns his attention fully to Rita to greet her.

“Lieutenant McCarney,” and then a pause that seems longer than what it actually is. She pretends not to notice how he looks Rita up and down, pausing at the shiny new bars on her collar. “First Lieutenant McCarney. Congratulations.” There’s something in the way he draws it out — how his smirk seems to grow, and she’s close enough to hear Rita let out a soft puff of breath, as though she’s resetting herself or stepping up to hit a baseball.

“How sweet. Thank you Lieb,” she hums out, his brows shoot up at the shortening of his name.

Daisy clears her throat.

“Right then, well I’m gonna—”

“Oh no you don’t,” Liebgott immediately interjects, and his hand goes to latch around her wrist loosely to keep her from slipping away. “I’ve missed my dart partner and you have some explaining to do.”

“You know, a grilling really isn’t the way I want to spend my night off,” The complaint, seemingly, falls upon deaf ears (as in, Liebgott certainly hears her, but she learned rather quickly that she attracts stubborn types, so he isn’t going to relent anyway). “Alright, fine, but if we lose again you bear the consequences.”

It starts out fairly merciful. And they aren’t losing at darts, either.

It’s mostly lighthearted teasing. She, properly, meets George Luz. Between rounds Liebgott leans against a table beside Rita to the point where they’re shoulder-to-shoulder, and after each shot Buck Compton looks at Daisy with a sort of smile she’s seen a million times before. Upon learning he’s a big-shot from UCLA, it all makes more sense. She hopes that the smile she gives him will be enough appeasement. Liebgott, lightheartedly, scolds her for not coming to see him sooner with a “You hidin’ from me or somethin’?” Daisy responds to it with a smile and a shrug and a “Maybe I was.”

He puts his hand over his heart as though he’s been wounded, and Daisy laughs. Buck steps out of the way, making a sweeping gesture that she figures is meant to be gentlemanly. She nods in acknowledgment.

“Careful Buck, never know when The Dog’ll come and whisk her away,” George warns, eliciting a few chuckles. Rita and Daisy, however, are utterly perplexed.

“The Dog?” She lines up her shot and—

“Oh, you know, ol’ Bloody Speirs.”

She misses. Her face feels hot.

“That’s not— you’ve got the wrong idea.” Luz’s grin only seems to grow in a boyish way, the kind that makes her want to tug on his ears or put him in a headlock. She won’t though, because he’s got two inches on her.

“I didn’t have any idea, sweetheart. Just saw you two walking together back at the bivouac. Should I have an—”

But what she does do is hurriedly rush over, clamping one of her hands over his mouth. The corners of his eyes seem to crinkle in amusement as she glares at him, knowing it’s not nearly as threatening as she wants it to be, and since she’s in his face, he can no doubt see the way her face is flushed, better than most. Daisy’s brows furrow and she huffs.

“‘Ey ease up on the girl wouldja?” Hand still clamped over George’s mouth, she turns her head to a dark haired man sitting at a nearby table. He has a thick Philly accent and dark hair. He looks even younger than her — maybe even fresh out of high school. It takes a moment for her to recall his name. “Who knows? Maybe he was on his way t’ take Alton out for good and doll face over here saved his fuckin’ life.” Bill Guarnere. That’s his name.

That seems to shift the attention off of her, as the men in the nearby vicinity begin to exchange stories about ‘Alton’ and pull Malarkey into the conversation. Malarkey, who looks like he just won the lottery with Laura standing between his legs as he sits on a barstool, his hands tentatively placed on her  hips. She doesn’t seem to mind.

Daisy does a very quick scan of the area. Patty seems to be talking to a man with pale blue eyes and a bashful smile on his face — he looks about as young as Guarnere. So it seems Jane's sergeant is none other than Floyd Talbert. He sits with her and Catherine and she doesn’t know what they’re talking about — but Jane seems to be amused at the very least. Daisy’s eyes land on Rita — and she immediately knows the expression on the woman’s face. Brows furrowed, lip between her teeth. Connecting dots.

She takes her hand off of George’s mouth. He’s still smiling. She can’t even be mad at him.

“Joe, would you just take your turn already? Since y’wanna laugh at me missing,” Liebgott straightens up, all smiles as he waltzes over and Daisy scurries back to take her spot by Rita. There’s a beat of silence. She feels the warmth of Rita’s hand wrapping around her arm for a moment.

“So that… guy you were talking to me about. Paratrooper? Was it—”

“Yeah.”

“And are you two…”

“We’re fine,” Daisy can feel her face flushing a deeper shade of red. She stares directly ahead. “We’re…friends. Have been for a while. That’s it.”

Another pause. Rita squeezes her arm.

“Good.”

It’s a momentary lapse, but no one seems to linger on it too long, not even Luz, who offers her an ‘apology pint’ and his best rendition of Taking A Chance on Love as reparations for flustering her — with his own whistles and all. She takes it in stride, with a half-hearted threat to tug on his ear if he tries it again. She and Liebgott (unsurprisingly) lose the game, but jokes and stories are shared. Apparently the same Sobel Ginny scolded was their former C.O, and so the boys are extremely amused at the idea of Sobel being yelled at over the telephone. She finds Eugene amongst them, and eventually the two sit back, observing for a moment at the mingling bodies.

He tells her about his fiancee, Vera, about how they’re planning to marry when the war’s over. She tells him about her brother’s apparent new girlfriend, and the new company. Two flies on the wall, they exchange smiles as Daisy makes her observations and make minimal, but warm conversation.

Rita and Liebgott exchange looks continuously — they aren’t subtle about it and, knowing Rita, she isn’t trying to be, but the way they… challenge each other is a little amusing to watch. Like they’re competing to see who’ll crack. Patty’s smile is radiant as ever, and she isn’t sure what the man next to her is saying — but it must be good from the way her face lights up. Jane and Talbert have taken their turn at the dart board, and after every throw Talbert looks as though to make sure she’s watching. Her face breaks from its pensive expression every time to give him a quirk of a smile. Catherine, on the other side, watches like a hawk. They make eye contact, smile in that sort of bemused way she imagines her old high school teachers must have felt watching them all at school functions.

She’s a little happy that she gave into Laura’s pestering after all.

They don’t get back until late, but Daisy makes a point to ensure everyone makes it to their billet. Lingering at the door, Rita looks her up and down.

“Don’t dilly-dally too long, alright?” She chides, and Daisy laughs.

“Uh huh, I won’t. Just have to tuck the Captain into bed. Read her a bedtime story. Forehead kiss. You know how it is,” Rita’s smile is a bit softer, and she nods.

“Damn right I do. Make sure our girl doesn’t work herself half to death, alright?”

Daisy nods, before making her way over to where she knows Ginny to be staying. It’s familiar territory. If it wasn’t her doing this, it’d be Rita — part of her wishes she could have convinced the woman to come with them, but she also knows just how bull-headed Virginia Brant truly is. She approaches, ready to knock on the door, when she hears footsteps behind her.

“Daisy?”

She turns around. Ginny stands there, her dress jacket in her arms to embrace the cool summer night. The full moon does the woman no favors — Daisy can clearly see the surprised look on her face, and what seems to be a pink tint glowing on her cheeks. Lips parted, but hair still neatly in its ringlets, as picturesque as she always is. Daisy smiles, leaning against the door.

“Came to check on you, make sure you didn’t fall asleep at your desk again,” she says simply, looking her friend over once again. Her grin shifts to something of a smirk. “Did you… go out? Take a break?” Usually, Ginny’s laugh is full of spirit, like the words she speaks — carrying weight. This comes out as light, airy. Daisy almost feels like a mother catching her daughter coming into the house after curfew.

“Yeah I… I did. Went down to the Blue Boar.” Daisy hums.

“I’m glad you took a break then, you deserve it more than anyone,” Daisy starts out, and she means it. “Did you have fun?” Ginny’s cheeks, somehow, seem to flush even more. Her gaze softens into something she’s beginning to recognize more amongst the women — in Jane, and Catherine, and even in Rita. Her very disposition is a rare sight.

“Yeah, actually, I did,” she manages, uncharacteristically shy. “I really did.”

#fic // sad beautiful tragic #band of brothers #ronald speirs #hbo war #ron speirs #band of brothers fic #hbo war fic #ron speirs x reader #ronald speirs x oc #Dick winters x ofc #ronald speirs x ofc #joseph liebgott x ofc #it’s all downhill from here btw

[sleepyowlwrites]

💥💡🤝

💥 - What is the main conflict of the wip?

I assume you're mostly interested in city story so I'll answer for that.

the external main conflict is that Rune's ex-sort-of-adoptive-family - the two sons, specifically - are after her to bring her back into the fold as a trophy, kinda (they're terrible people) and Jet decides to help her out even before he knows what all went down that made her decide to leave them and Jet and Rune have to do a lot of scheming and fighting to stop Max (evil son #1) from continuing to run his fighting ring, drug dealing and chronic manipulation and abuse of literally anybody in his life.

the internal main conflict is Jet deciding what kind of person he is, what he stands for, who he wants to trust, who he wants to protect, where he draws the lines of his boundaries, what he won't do even for someone he loves, and allowing himself to experience emotions and have good things without self-destructing.

isn't it so nice that he gets to do both at the same time, mm.

💡 - What inspired the wip? When/how did you first get the idea?

I follow several drama blog (asian dramas) and a few were showing clips of a thai drama called Not Me and it had some interesting scenes in it with good (or bad) hurt/comfort (which I LOVE), so I watched a couple clips since it's all on yt, and I was really interested in the character of Black - and we don't get to explore him enough, it's very sad - and so I was writing a little bit of fanfic to console myself and explore that character, but I very quickly realized that I'd accidentally just invented a character with some similar traits but totally different goals, so then I borrowed the most basic template of the series: angry guy with an estranged twin brother, some friends he sort of doesn't really trust half the time, the setting is a CITY, there is fighting - and then I dumped the entire plot, all the character motivations and most of their backstories, eschewed extra characters, invented my own antagonist, invented Rune, invented a new plotline, and here we are! (oh wow that was a single sentence)

like, if you knew the series, you could see how dirt in the doing was absolutely inspired by it, but even though you can match up aspects, none of them are the same anymore. like, there are 7 main characters, but their outlines are all different now, and they're all connected in different ways.

this happens to me a lot. I start writing some introspective character exploration fic and then I get a lot of ideas and poof! it's loosely inspired and 98% just my own thing now. which is cool. but also not because I do not need any more ideas, brain.

🤝 - How do the characters meet? (antagonist included!)

it's from Jet's pov so I'll just say how he meets each of them.

Copper - is his twin brother. their parents did a parent trap separate and each take a twin thing, but less extreme, but then later extreme because they did their level best to keep them apart from each other for purely selfish and self-absorbed reasons.

Rune - he met when she started participating in Moss' "collect things in semi-legal ways and distribute them to people who need them" venture. then she randomly met him on the street one night and they bonded over being lonely. (I think you read that part)

Moss - he met after he dropped out of school. he needed a job after getting fired for starting a fight with a coworker (who was an asshole but still, great adulting there Jet) and Moss has this nose for "wayward youths in need of productive things to do with their hands" so he kinda just picked Jet up off the street and was like "you work here now" and Jet works at his garage now. Moss is the mentor Jet will never admit he needs.

Yarrow - Jet met him at the garage when he came over to see Moss one day. Yarrow is a part-time art student and works at a coffee shop. his energy levels are absolutely too much for Jet but he has a way of worming his way into people's hearts, Jet included.

Hawk - he started working in Moss' garage doing the accounting (after Moss did his "this is a wayward youth" thing) and later also working on the bikes. Jet didn't like him at first because Jet doesn't like anybody at first but Hawk just was like "oh I can be your antagonist, sure" and then Moss was like "I will not tolerate murder so get along or else" and then they eventually bonded over both having trauma and now they sort of respect each other but pretend they don't.

Shadow - Jet met him at the garage, technically, but he really met him when he found him sleeping on the street. Jet doesn't really know what to do with Shadow. he tries to look out for him but Shadow isn't good at letting people do that, so it's tricky. they'll bond over trauma eventually. it happens every time. it's a theme, you could say. yay.

thank for ask, Klaus, looking forward to reading your comments on dirt in the doing.

#sleepy answers #writing asks #wip: city story

[indiee19]

I Can't Keep My Feelings In Disguise

Alex Turner x Reader

summary: You're the fifth member of the band, and you and Alex fall for each other. Neither of you act on your feelings because you're both in the band and don't want to ruin your friendship. But after a concert where you wear something a bit more risqué, Alex can't hold down his desire for you anymore and things get heated.

-Requested by Anon

warnings: smut

word count: 2.6k

a/n: i have no ideas for the end so you get what you get. also, if you want to be tagged from now on, please lmk so i can start tagging you!!

✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑ ✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

The boys were giggling outside your hotel room door, snickering, mumbling incoherent words. You were hardly awake. You were laying on your stomach in your bra and underwear, too hot for anything more than that and a small sheet covering your body. You turned over slightly, looking at the door with half lidded eyes. One of them knocked on your door, the sound seeming louder than what you would normally expect, you had your hangover to blame for that. Matt called out your name from outside the door.

"Mm, what!" You shouted, rubbing your eyes with your wrist gently. After you yelled at them, you didn't hear anything else, and thought they just went away, but you were wrong. As you were about to fall back asleep, you heard your door open, all four of them coming into your room "Happy birthday!" They all said together in unison. You were now wide awake, sitting up quickly, covering yourself up with the sheet. All of their smiles quickly faded, their faces falling flat. "Well, don't just stand there and stare at me, close your eyes and let me put something on," you said. They all nodded and quickly turned around.

You stood up and walked over to your bag, pulling out a nude silk slip to put on. Quickly, you slipped into the slip. "Okay, you're good. You can look now," you said. They all turned back around and showed you the cake they had made for you. Smiling, you walked over to them and gave each one a hug, thanking each of them.

"We got you gifts, too," Jamie said. You thanked them again, and told them that they didn't have to buy you gifts. But they insisted that gifts were the least they could do for you with all that you've done for him. Hesitantly, you sat down on your hotel room bed and let them hand you your gifts.

Jamie was the first to hand you one. It was a light pink bag with white tissue paper in it. You grabbed the card out of it first and then opened it. Inside it, it read: Happy birthday to the second best guitar player in the world. Hope 28 treats you just as good as 27 did, love Cookie. You smiled at him and gave him a hug before taking out the actual gift. It was a signed vinyl of Bella Donna by Stevie Nicks, your favorite artist. "Thank you, Jamie, I absolutely love it," you smiled at him.

Nick was the next person to hand you a gift. It was in a slightly smaller blue bag with very light yellow tissue paper. Once again you got the card out first and read it. Happiest birthday to the goofier one. And thanks for making sure that none of us kill each other or ourselves doing stupid shit. Love, Malls

You then took out the gift, or, gifts actually. Inside the bag was a brand new guitar strap that you'd been wanting for a while, and then you pulled out a case, and inside the case was a signed guitar pick of Paul McCartney. "Thank you, Nick," you said as you hugged him.

Matt then handed you his gift. It was a smaller wrapped present with white wrapping paper and a yellow bow on it. You carefully unwrapped the gift and saw what the present was: a jewelry box that you'd been wanting for forever now. It was wooden and decorated with hand painted flowers on it. You'd wanted it ever since you saw it in that handmade wood shop in Germany. You thanked Matt and hugged him.

And then Alex handed you his gift. There was no denying that it was the biggest gift that you were given and you wondered what it could be. It was wrapped in light yellow, polka-dot wrapping paper and a card was on top. You opened the card and it read: Happy birthday to the most incredible girl ever. I was going to write something poetic, but I couldn't think of anything, so I hope this is okay. You're an amazing friend and I hope 28 treats you well. Hope you enjoy the gift. -- Love, Mr. Sex, or, Alex. You laughed at the end of the note. Mr. Sex was a nickname you gave Alex when You first heard all the lyrics for AM, as they were all about sex. Then, you carefully unwrapped the gift and immediately knew what it was. You took all the wrapping paper off it and saw the gift. It was a picture of you and the rest of the band, including Andy, at your first ever gig, with the entire band's signature on the frame. And attached to it was the CD recording that went along with the gig.

You looked over at Alex and saw that he looked worried on whether or not you liked the gift. "Alex, I absolutely love it. Thank you," you smiled brightly at him. You motioned for him to come over to you to give you a hug. He did and kissed your cheek lightly, sending tingles up your spine.

You'd had a crush on Alex for a while now, since you two began the band with Jamie. And you had actually planned to ask him out in 2007, not long after he and his ex Johanna broke up. But then he began dating his ex Alexa Chung. Then, after they broke up you wanted to ask him out but he began dating Arielle and you never got a chance. But he was single now, and though you wanted to ask him out, you didn't have the courage.

And unbeknownst to you, Alex liked you as well. In reality he dated those girls to get over you. But now he couldn't hide his feelings. He had broken up with Arielle a few months ago and it was driving him mad that he didn't have the courage to ask you out. But, what if you rejected him and he ruined your friendship? That was all he could think about.

That was also a reason why you didn't ask him out. What if you ruined the friendship and made being in the band awkward?

Just then, your manager came in and announced that you all were going to do an early sound check for the festival you were playing later tonight: PinkPop to be exact. Your manager told you that you all were leaving for the sound check in thirty minutes and to get ready.

You all nodded and then you shoved all the guys out of your room so that you all could get ready for the sound check, and so you all could get the clothes you were going to wear to the festival out.

You took out a t-shirt and a pair of bell bottoms to wear to the sound check, then you picked out a pair of small shorts and a bralette top to wear to the actual festival. You put the outfit in your bag and then walked out of your hotel room and then down to the lobby. You were, not surprisingly, the last one down to the lobby. Alex and Jamie were chatting and then he turned to you and saw you. His eyes lit up and he smiled at you.

He was about to walk over to you, but your manager called you all over to the car to go to the sound check. So, you all got in the van and buckled up. Alex was the last one to get in the car so the only seat left was by you. Great, you thought.

Once he was buckled up, the driver began to drive. You began to fiddle with your fingers, not having anything else to do. You didn't want to say anything to Alex as he was already making you quite flustered, and he hadn't even done anything. He wore a tight fitting white t-shirt and tight fitting jeans. You could see almost everything, leaving very little to the imagination. And then, when you were almost at the venue, Alex spoke. "Have you had a good birthday so far?" He asked, scratching the back of his neck.

"Well, the hour I've been awake for so far has been good, so I'd say so," you answered nervously. The remaining portion neither you nor Alex spoke. The drive was fairly calm, hardly anyone spoke as they were all fairly tired. And then the car stopped and you all unbuckled and got out, grabbing all your things.

All seven of you began to walk behind the stage where you would find your dressing rooms. You saw other artists' dressing rooms as you all walked to your own rooms. Then, at the end of the hall of rooms, you all were at your dressing rooms, and you sighed at the fact that you got your own dressing room separate from the guys, glad to have some privacy.

You laid your bag on the small sofa in the room beside the door and then walked out immediately, grabbing your guitar and walking to the area backstage that led up to the stage. Matt nodded over to you and the others looked at you. "Ready?" Jamie asked as everyone grabbed their instruments, Matt grabbed his drum stick and then you grabbed your guitar, then you all walked on stage.

You all walked to your places and waited for Alex's cue to start.

The five of you made it through the setlist and then you had to go get ready for the show. As you all walked to your dressing rooms, Alex was beside you the entire time. "Are you ready for the show?" He asked, cracking his knuckles. You quickly gazed over at his hands and noticed how veiny they were and how big they were, and for some reason, your mind wandered, thinking about what they would look and feel like around your throat...

"Uh, yeah, a bit," you answered, quickly looking away. "You?"

"Not as much as I thought I'd be," he replied. "Well, I'll see you in a few minutes," he said as you both reached your dressing rooms. You mumbled a reply and then quickly shut the door to your dressing room. You inhaled and exhaled deeply before beginning to get dressed.

Once you were dressed, you began to do your hair and makeup, staying simple as you just couldn't be bothered to do it. Once you were done, you looked at yourself in the floor-length mirror. and you thought you looked very good, and you would even admit that you looked fairly hot. Once you were done admiring yourself in the mirror, you walked out of your dressing room and walked to the area that had the stairs that led up to the stage.

Almost everyone was waiting there -- everyone but Alex. You walked over to Nick and asked him where Alex was. "Oh, he's still getting dressed ... fixing his Dracula hair, you know?" He answered Nodding, you sat down on one of the stools behind stage.

All of you patiently waited for Alex. And then, finally, you saw him walking towards you four. He looked hotter than normal in the ensemble he was wearing. His chain was visible as his shirt and barely any buttons were done up on it, and his pants were tight so they left little to the imagination, and the blue jacket added to it all. You stood up and walked to be stood by Nick and Jamie. The stage manager then walked to you all. "Okay, and you're on," he said. The five of you got in line to walk on stage, letting Alex go first. Then it was Jamie, then you, Nick, and then finally Matt. The crowd cheered for you all, some girls yelling random things at Alex.

"I love you, Alex!" One yelled.

"I wanna have you babies!" Another yelled.

You all grabbed your instruments and Alex walked up to the mic. And then it was time to put on a show.

The crowd was amazing, and you thoroughly enjoyed playing the songs and singing. And, of course, Alex drove you mad. But, there was one part while you were playing Arabella that especially drove you mad. He'd look over to you and smirk and then lick his lips. And not to mention that he looked hot when he spit during Don't Sit Down 'Cause I've Moved Your Chair.

-

The show went by entirely too fast, and before you knew it, you were walking off stage with the boys. And once you were all off stage, the stage manager greeted you all. He told you all how wonderful you did. All of you thanked him and walked back to your dressing rooms. And once again, Alex was by your side the entire time. "Hey, uh, can I speak to you ... in private?" He asked.

You nodded, trying to stay cool. Then, you allowed him in your dressing room then followed, closing the door. "So, what did you want to talk about?" You asked, turning around. Alex didn't say anything, just walked to you. He cupped your face and then kissed you. It was eager and hungry, making you feel a tingling feeling between your legs. But, he pulled away. "I've been wanting to do that for a while now," he said, leaning in to kiss you again.

And instantly, you wanted more, beginning to slip his jacket off. He gladly complied and then began to undo your top, pulling away and eyeing your chest up and down. He kissed you again and let his hands wander down to your ass, squeezing it. You gasped and pulled away. "Was that too much? If so, I'm so sorry," he asked. You shook your head no and watched him sit down. You crawled into his lap and felt how hard he was. And as you two began to make out again, you started to grind against him, earning a few groans from Alex.

"Mm, baby, ride me properly," he moaned. The two of you pulled away and you sat up on your knees. He undid his pants and pulled them and his boxers down far enough to pull out his hard cock. Then you leaned against him to pull down your shorts, whimpering when he slightly rubbed against your clit.

Once your shorts were off, you pushed your thong to the side and gripped the base of his cock. Then, you slowly slipped down on him and felt him slowly fill you up. He threw his head back when he bottomed out.

You adjusted to his size and thickness and then slowly lifted off him, then let him slip back inside you, starting to slowly ride him.

The entire time his hands were firmly planted on your hips, slamming you down harder each time, making you moan. And then he slammed you down harder than you thought he would and let a loud moan slip out. One of his hands slipped up to your face, and he let two of his fingers slip into your mouth. "Shh, baby, you don't want the others to know who's filling you up so good, do you?" He teased, holding you still, beginning to thrust up into you.

His other hand went to your clit, rubbing harshly. And then, with no warning, you came in his arms, your entire body tensing up and shaking. Your own orgasm triggered his, his hot release spilling inside you.

You two sat there, tangled up in one another until you calmed down. Then Alex spoke. "I love you ... and not as a friend," he admitted.

"I like you, too," you replied.

He was panting and then slowly kissed your neck sloppily. "Will you be my girlfriend?"

"Yes."

#alex #turner #alex turner #alex arctic monkeys #alex turner arctic monkeys #alex turner fanfic #alex turner fanfiction #arctic monkeys #matt helders #jamie cook #nick omalley #nick o'malley #miles kane #the last shadow puppets #alex turner x reader #tlsp #dracula alex #arctic monkeys pinkpop 2014

[genshinlover101]

S/O taking Ganyu,Jean,Ayaka,Noelle,Ningguang and Yoimiya to a firefly field

This legit JUST popped into my head and I rushed onto your page lol

Taking Genshin Girls to a Field of Fireflies (part 2)

Characters: Ayaka, Noelle x gn!reader

Warnings: none

A/n: I surprisingly have done this idea with three of the same characters, I will do Ayaka and Noelle however :)) I hope the idea is still in your head as it’s been like 3 months probably

Link to Ganyu, Jean, Ningguang’s part

• Being the Shirasagi Himegimi was not an easy role to fill. Ayaka was burdened to carry a heavy load from a young age as the eldest daughter of the Kamisato Clan. So to relax you brought her to an empty field of fireflies.

• Ayaka had always loved things that weren’t available for her. Festivals fascinated her, foreign pizza was delectable, and adventures were solely for her imagination. That was until she met you, to introduce her to many new experiences.

• Ayaka would be amazed, standing still with her mouth wide open as she tried to count the sheer amount of lights that filled the air. She would giggle in excitement after it processed in her mind, such a beautiful sight to behold.

Ayaka followed your fast pace by holding her dress up with her hands as she jogged behind you. “Come on’ hurry, we’ll miss the magic of the show if we’re too slow,” you urged. The sun on the verge of setting revealing the millions of fireflies in the air.

You hopped up an elevated rock, turning to help Ayaka up with your hand out. As she gripped hard you felt how cold she was from the summer breeze. Feeling a little guilty for guiding your princess out to such a secluded place in the wilderness. Although, no matter the circumstances the show would absolutely be worth it.

You two stood hand in hand as the night gave way, thousands of miniature lights turning on all around you two in the grassy field. It felt so surreal as all the little bugs circulated all around you, Ayaka was frozen in place. You couldn’t tell if she was scared or amazed.

The fireflies ignited her face ever so slightly, highlighting her features you felt nothing but love for her at this moment. You couldn’t tell what was prettier, the scene before you or the girl in your hands at this time. “So pretty,” you muttered under your breath.

“Mm,” she hummed in agreeance, her eyes flicking around to see all the little bugs as if she were counting each individual one.

“No, you,” you corrected her, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “You’re beautiful Ayaka.

Her attention averted to you, a blush on her face. “T-thank you,”was all she could manage to say. Still very foreign to the feeling of her lover’s compliments.

• Noelle was busy training to become one of the Knights of Favonius. So busy in fact, that she often is so diligent with helping others that she neglects her own safety. Admiring you so much, she blindly follows you to a field of fireflies.

• Even if she was still so young, Noelle often was blind to the small things in life. Sure roses are beautiful, but she’s never actually stopped to admire the color, smell the fragrance, or see it bloom. You were here to introduce her to the philosophy ‘stop and smell the roses’.

• Noelle was apprehensive at first, still convinced this was a waste of time when she could be doing laps around Mondstadt. That was until a firefly, looking at its cute little body learned to individualize all the little night lights.

You took Noelle’s hand as you walked to your destination which would be a small grassy field in Mondstadt. It was nearby luckily, but surprisingly the area was desolate of people despite the killer view in your opinion.

As you approached the intended field and the sunset, all the circumstances were fulfilled for a successful night. “Close your eyes,” you told Noelle. She looked at you hesitantly, before she shut her eyes gently.

“I’m trusting you,” she said as you guided her over the small rocks. Once you were in the middle of the field you allowed her to stop. Just a couple more moments then you could reveal your secret to her. You felt so anxious that she wouldn’t like it, after all, she was quite annoyed to have to come out so far when she had so much work.

“Okay open,” you said. As she opened her eyes, she was greeted with thousands of lights before her. The warm summer breeze complimented this scenery well. Her mouth was agape as she did a 360, wandering outwards towards more fireflies. One, in particular, floated down by her, she cupped her hands to catch it.

The fly sat there patiently as she looked at it from every angle. Such a scary-looking bug producing such a beautiful show when it’s in multitudes. She wished she had brought a jar to catch some to commemorate this moment.

When she realized she wandered too far from you, she looked back, wanting you to be beside her. As she scurried back, she grabbed your hand, dragging you with her to be immersed in the show.

#ayaka x reader #noelle x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin headcanons #kamisato ayaka #genshin noelle

[drwcn]

follow up to [post] exploring the crack au if lwj was a girl 

〒▽〒 ps im not trying to erase canon lwj representation, not at all, wangxian is mm in all my other fics, this is just stupid fun

in a ceteris paribus situation aka all other things staying equal: 

1) Lan Wangji 100% still has a resting bitch face, which probably would get her a couple of “Lan-er-guniang 美若天仙 (beautiful as an immortal/goddess) but would benefit from smiling more” comments but nobody is that desperate to die yet so, she’s spared. But damn... imagine the sheer number of thirsty boys who’d try to secure a marriage with LWJ. None of them is good enough for Wangji as far as Lan Xichen is concerned. Okay - maybe in Lan Xichen’s opinion, Nie Mingjue is good enough, but he couldn’t be less interested. I see her as I see Huaisang, Xichen please. 

2) Everything interaction between Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian in Wei Wuxian’s first life is now 500% more scandalous. 

Exhibit A) Their first meeting at the gates; Jiang Cheng immediately felt his spidey senses tingling.  —“You’d sooner have immortals flying out of your ass than get with someone like her. The second jade of Gusu? The pearl in old man Lan’s eyes? C’mon.”  —“Shut up, A-Cheng.” —“Uh-huh.”  —“Also, she’s not that pretty. Her brother Zewu-jun is much better. There’s a reason he’s ranked first.” WWX is still a disaster bi.  — “LMAO, you? Zewu-jun? Please.” 

Exhibit B) Just because LWJ is a girl does not mean WWX grew more brain cells. 

WWX, straight up to Lan Qiren’s face, “Lan-meimei and I - we’re zhiji.” (he means it like we’re kindred spirits, peas of a pod, etc)  LWJ: *does not deny* Lan Xichen: ⚆_⚆ Lan Qiren: ಠ╭╮ಠ

Exhibit C) Lan Wangji getting drunk the first time. Wei Wuxian knew he crossed a line the minute he invited Lan-er-guniang for a drink. Really, WWX, even for you, this is inappropriate. When Lan Wangji fell face first onto the table, Wei Wuxian knew, he fucked up. “Hey....hey...Lan....Lan...-er-guniang,” He poked her. “Don’t...don’t sleep here! You can’t sleep here! If your Uncle finds out or if Jiang-shushu finds out...they’ll skin me alive and then...and then they’ll make me marry you! I don’t want to marry you; you don’t talk and I’m too young!” 

WWX, being a dipshit, “Hey Lan Zhan, call me Wei-gege.”  LWJ, drunk as fuck, “Wei..gege.”  WWX *((( heart )))* ??? 

Exhibit D) The Cold Pond. Okay, so I don’t think Zewu-jun would sabotage his sister’s virtue by sending a stupid teenage boy her way while she’s bathing, but doesn’t mean Su She is above all that. Wei “I didn’t see anything I swear!” Wuxian. Lan “I will gouge out your eyes.” Wangji. Somehow they still end up in the cave. Maybe WWX got in the water after LWJ got out and got sucked into the vortex and LWJ heard the commotion, turned around, saw WWX had disappeared. “Wei Ying?!” A panicked LWJ jumps back into the pond, “Stop fooling around, come out!” 

Jiang Cheng and Wen Qing 👀👀 when LWJ and WWX fall out of the cave together. Also the fact that Lan-er-guniang and Wei-gongzi went missing, together, for two days. Who knows what could’ve happened. I mean anything really. I mean... that’s gotta stir the pot a little were it not for the Yin Iron stealing everyone’s attention away from this bit of juicy scandal. 

Oh the whole story... so much to work with, so little time. 

3) Because Lan Wangji is a girl, now suddenly there’s a high ranking member of the Lan Clan who can host the girls at Cloud Recesses. I mean, Mianmian, Jiang Yanli, Wen Qing, Lan Wangji - SISTERLY FRIENDSHIP. Other than Mianmian, none of the girls are really talkers which suits Lan Wangji perfectly. Even Mianmian’s chatter is endearing.

4) Lan Wangji is absolutely still a powerhouse during the Sunshot Campaign. The inherent aesthetics of fem!lwj telling the Wen goons to “kneel” - no one will deprive me of this.  Also she will still cut off your arm if you cross her - Xue Yang and Jin Guangyao ya better watch out still. 

I am TORN between two options: Lan Wangji tol and kickass or Lan Wangji smol and kickass. On one hand, the aesthetics of willowy elf-like LWJ, on the other hand, 5′2′’ of whoop ass who can and will throw an unconscious wwx over her shoulder firewoman-style and toll him to safety.  

And amongst other things: 

A) Lan Wangji still becomes Chief Cultivator, because excuse me who else is left to clean up this mess? Jiang “Short-fuse” Wanyin? Nie “I won’t do what I’m not intended to do” Huaisang? Jin “13 year-old” Ling? Or Sect Leader Yao?  Technically, being a woman means that she was never Lan Xichen’s heir, but at the end of it, it’s not like Gusu Lan is left with a lot of choices.  Just the poetic justice of Gusu Lan pleading for Lan Wangji to come back when she fully intends to 隐居山野 (retreat into the mountains) with the resurrected WWX.

Lan Wangji being Chief Cultivator would echo Lan Yi’s tenure and rectify the fact that Gusu Lan’s only female head of family “failed”. Lan Yi had to face a mountain of prejudice because she was woman; someone has to say “up yours” to that. A woman as not only the sect master of Gusu Lan but the Chief Cultivator? Love that for Gusu Lans. (⌐■_■) ☞ ☞

B) Because of ~ sexism ~ I wonder if Lan Wangji would get titled “Hanguang” at all even after the Sunshot Campaign. Even Lan Yi, the SL Lan of her time didn’t have a title. Chances are LWJ won’t either. (Note: Violet Spider is not a title, it’s a moniker). So — say after the way Lan Wangji is still just “Lan-er-guniang”, and she does not obtain the title “Han Guang” until after she leaves Cloud Recesses and become rogue. (srsly how did they come up with these titles in canon, did gusu lan just look at 21 year old lwj and be like yah he’s lord light bearer *cue trevor noah stand up joke* why do you call yourself “great” britain? isn’t that a bit presumptuous? shouldn’t you go around doing good things and then let other people come to the conclusion: oh britain look how great you are? same logic with lwj.) 

Lan Wangji, a Jade of Gusu or a nameless rogue, still goes where trouble is, helping those who need it. After laying low for a year or two to heal, Lan Wangji began night hunting. Donned neck to ankle in white silk and tulle, and a weimao (wide brimmed veil hat) obscuring her face, she became known to the people as Hanguang Sanren, the lightbearing wanderer. Gusu’s highest power probably has some idea who she is - or at least they can guess - but the vast majority of people don’t. 

C) Lan Sizhui raised by rogue Lan Wangji as his mum would be different. Still cultured, respectful, but definitely with an air of keeping others at arm’s length. 

For instance, grown-up Sizhui running interference and saving a cohort of gentry disciples on joint hunts.

Jingyi: 这人谁呀？Who is this guy? Zizhen: 多谢兄台搭救之恩，小可看您眼生，敢问兄台尊姓大名，何门何派，改日当登门拜访. Many thanks for saving us. I don’t believe we’ve met, pray tell what is your name and sect, so we may visit at a later time to thank you for tonight. Sizhui: 在下无门无姓 ，单名思追 。举手之劳不足挂齿 ，怎敢劳烦各位名门子弟答谢。My name is Sizhui, belonging to no family and to no sect. As for tonight - I only did what anyone would; it bears no mentioning and requires no thanks. Jin Ling: 你这人，看你工力不凡，想和你交个朋友，可你怎么遮遮掩掩的。Hey you, we see you’re a talented cultivator and want to make your acquaintance. Why are you so dodge-y? Zizhen：金陵 — Jing Ling - Sizhui: 若是有缘，还会相见。告辞。If it’s fated, we will meet again. Farewell.  

Later:  Jingyi: 思。追。 思追谁？Si. Zhui. To recollect and long for whom?  Sizhui: 母亲的一位故人. Someone from Mother’s past.  Jingyi: 你父亲？...Your father?  Sizhui: 我不知。I don’t know. 

I thought about how cute it would be if sizhui and jin ling knew each other but guys...Jiang Cheng literally thinks he killed Sizhui’s biological father. Like he literally thinks he orphaned Sizhui before Sizhui is even born. And Lan Wangji would never accept anything from Jiang Wanyin, not that it would stop Jiang Wanyin from trying. 

A package of books here, a new robe for Sizhui there. Lan Wangji doesn’t know how Jiang Cheng keeps finding her. She and Sizhui are nomadic.  

D) The inevitable conversation after wwx is revived. 

You know what would be funnier than Jiang Cheng thinking Sizhui is a wangxian baby is if Lan Qiren thinks Sizhui is a wangxian baby. 

#cql #the untamed #wangxian #lan wangji #wei wuxian #lmao what is this #cql ficlet #corie fics #lwj fic #f!lwj

[spencers-renaissance]

The Other Side of the Storm

Summary: Spencer & Luke are not out as a couple but have to attend the same FBI gala where a young, pretty agent insists on flirting with Luke. Misunderstandings and surprising reveals ensue.

Tags: relationship reveal, secret relationship, coming out, jealousy, caught, hurt/comfort, autistic spencer, angst with a happy ending, misunderstandings, found family, est. rel., cuddling & snuggling, domestic fluff

Pairing: Luke Alvez x Spencer Reid

Word Count: 2.7k

Masterlist // Read on AO3

Lets pretend I didn't just disappear for a couple of weeks bc I'm BACK now yay! This is written for a prompt from @ralvezhq who asked: "Ralvez is already dating but no one knows about them yet. they get invited to some sort of FBI gala and a young, accomplished female agent won’t stop flirting with luke and spencer is absolutely not having it so he finds a way to let everyone know they are together." -- I stuck to it except that they're caught rather than willingly confessing, I hope that's okay! I really enjoyed this one, so I hope you do as well.

!!!TW: the woman is very insistent on her flirting and makes Luke uncomfortable when she touches his chest without his consent!!!

“Any particular reason you keep looking over at that table full of Fugitive Task Force members, Spence?” JJ asks amusedly, sipping from her wine glass.

“Mm, I’ve noticed you looking over there a little bit,” Tara muses. “You got your eye on someone?”

Spencer looks down and forces a laugh, but he can feel the tips of his ears turning pink, and knows that he’s not gonna hear the end of this for the rest of the night. The team have never been fond of the FBI Galas they’re forced into attending every year, and unfortunately, Hotch’s usual stunt of pulling a non-urgent case from the stack and jetting off to some far-flung corner of the country to avoid it failed to fool the director this time.

He’d broken the news to them at the start of the week, and conversation in the bullpen has pretty much exclusively revolved around the event ever since. Even Penelope, who loves seeing people win awards and dressing up in her favourite full-glam outfits, has been significantly less upbeat. She only gave him one spontaneous hug all week.

None of them, though, have been dreading it more than Spencer. The others aren’t exactly fond of the faux smiles and convoluted politics and fake niceties either, sure, but tonight he has far more to lose than ever before. Namely, the man sat just out of his direct eye line at the Fugitive Task Force table.

Ironically, he and Luke had gotten ready for the same event together. They’d stood in the mirror side by side and tied one another’s ties in the way that always makes Spencer smile and Luke had gently brushed his hair out of eyes, but when it came time to leave, Spencer called a rideshare, and Luke drove the truck, arriving at completely different times in completely different vehicles.

The thing is, that as much as he loves his team, and as much as the FBI fraternisation policy has been significantly relaxed over the last few years, no one can know they’re together and have been for the last eight months.

Even the thought of Derek or Hotch or even JJ finding out — not only that he’s dating someone but that that person is a man — makes him feel queasy.

Which is why he smiles around an awkward cough and forces himself to meet the eyes of his profiler teammates, fighting every instinct in him to run, leg it out of here, never show your face again.

“No, I’m just looking at the clock above them,” he lies, and it isn’t smooth in any way shape or form but it’ll have to do. “You know I can’t wait for this to end. I haven’t read any Carl Jung in weeks.”

Tara laughs, raising her wine glass slightly. “Now that I understand.”

“Nah, I’m not so sure,” Derek grins slyly, “I think my man has his eye on some girl and he’s just getting a little shy, am I right, pretty boy?” He quirks an eyebrow playfully, leaning over to pat him on the back, and Spencer scrambles to recover.

“Believe whatever you’d like, Morgan,” he says, bringing his own glass to his lips to conceal any tells in his expression. “Doesn’t make it any less false.”

Thankfully, the conversation is interrupted by the Director clearing his throat into the mic on the stage as he introduces the next round of awards. Spencer loses himself in the anonymity of a dark room and a clapping audience, grateful that he’s avoided this round of interrogation.

The rest of the night progresses similarly. Spencer tries to keep his eyes away from Luke’s table — and valiantly attempts to keep from blushing like a schoolgirl when their eyes meet and Luke’s lips quirk upwards in an I-tried-to-stop-it-but-I-just-can’t kind of smile — and the rest of his team rib him pretty relentlessly about this ‘girl’ he supposedly has his eye on.

Hotch tries to get the team to leave him alone, but when a group of skilled, determined profilers all a little tipsy on wine and champagne encounter a friend’s mysterious love life, it’s pretty difficult to stand in their way.

Once dessert is served, though, things rapidly go downhill.

As much as he’s been trying to keep his eyes away from Luke’s table, it’s almost impossible to prevent his gaze from straying in a temporary moment of cognitive lapse every now and then, and while everyone is relatively quiet and occupied, digging into the Belgian waffle dessert, it happens once again. This time, though, instead of a small smile from Luke, he’s rewarded with the frankly heart-stopping sight of a young, pretty agent practically sitting in his lap, trying to feed him dessert.

He looks uncomfortable, and immediately Spencer is hit with an overwhelming wave of insecurity, jealousy, and an urge to protect that strangles his breath for a moment. He stares unabashedly, no longer caring whether anyone sees him because that’s his boyfriend and an extremely pretty woman is all over him and he looks like he wants her to stop, and oh my god, what does he do?

“Is that the girl you like all over that dude?” Derek asks sympathetically, catching onto Spencer’s staring. “It’s alright, man, if she’d choose someone else over you then she’s not right for you anyway. Why don’t you come and enjoy your dessert?”

Spencer senses the rest of the team’s eyes on him, but they don’t say anything, probably from a combination of pity, awkwardness, and confidence in Derek to counsel him through it. He’s hardly cognisant of that, though, instead a roar of emotion crashing through his mind, and he has no idea what to do about it.

When he sees a perfectly manicured hand land directly on Luke’s chest, though; when he sees Luke reject her more firmly, this time pushing her away; when he watches as she clearly gears herself up for some sad protest of self-victimisation, he sees red.

Before he can stop himself, he’s storming across the room over to Luke’s table. “Hi,” he says firmly, audibly pissed off and not in the mood for bullshit, “do you mind if I borrow my friend here? I have some official FBI business to discuss with him. Thanks.”

Without waiting for a response, he grabs Luke’s arm and leads him to the corridor outside the main hall, Luke following quickly and willingly behind him.

“Are you okay?” Spencer asks with his brow furrowed, his hand coming up to gently rest on Luke’s waist as he peers at him concernedly through the dim lighting of the hallway.

“Yes, baby, I’m fine,” Luke smiles reassuringly, raising a hand to Spencer’s face. “I’m sorry you had to see that. She was… persistent.”

“She shouldn’t have made you uncomfortable like that,” Spencer insists, still feeling distressed and anxious despite the immediate situation having been diffused.

“You’re right,” Luke agrees. “And she should’ve listened to me when I told her I was taken. I’m sorry you had to see someone flirting with me so openly like that, carinõ, I know you still get insecure about things like that.”

Spencer sighs, relaxing slowly the more he hears Luke’s voice as steady and strong and kind as it always is. He steps forward and buries his face in Luke’s neck as he nestles in close for a comforting hug.

“You know I only have eyes for you, right, sweetheart?” Luke whispers softly, one arm holding his waist and another tangling itself in Spencer’s loose curls.

He nods into Luke’s neck, but doesn’t make any move to pull away, just enjoying the warmth and closeness of standing so intimately with the man he loves until—

“Spencer!” Derek’s voice pulls him violently from his sweet escape from reality and horror instantly floods him as he jerks away from Luke, staring at Derek in a nauseating mixture of alarm and trepidation.

“What…” Derek stares right back at him as both JJ and Tara come tumbling through the doors behind him, looking ready for a fight—

Oh. That makes sense. They all saw him storming towards a woman they thought he had a crush on, then pull the man she was flirting with out into the most secluded corridor surrounding the hall. Even considering Spencer’s character, he has to admit that the circumstances definitely look like he was gearing up for a fight, and everyone knows that he is not the kind of person who could hold his own against an ex-military man who chases down criminals for a living.

“You’re… not fighting him,” Derek says hesitantly, the puzzle pieces clearly falling into place for him.

Spencer shakes his head minutely, and is only thankful when Luke inches closer and wraps an arm around him. After all, he has nothing more to lose.

“You were looking at him, not her,” Derek continues slowly.

Spencer nods, unable to meet the eyes of any of the three friends standing in front of him.

“You’re dating him,” he says, still sounding shocked, his voice almost entirely numb. “You’re gay.”

“Or bisexual,” Tara offers, and Spencer takes a little comfort in the fact that she doesn’t sound shocked or upset, her voice warm and helpful. He tries to meet her eye, but he can’t work up the courage and buries closer into Luke’s embrace instead.

“Gay,” he whispers.

“Spence,” JJ says quietly, earnestly, “why didn’t you tell us?”

It’s too much to go into right now, too convoluted and long of a story for him to explain when even choking out a single syllable takes a herculean effort, so he shrugs instead.

“We were talking all night assuming you were interested in a woman,” Derek says numbly, more to himself than anything, but Spencer watches out of the corner of his eye as he shakes off the shock and comes back to himself, slowly putting more of the puzzle together as he looks at Spencer. “That’s why you didn’t tell us. We’ve been making assumptions all this time and hurting you in the process.”

“Oh, Spence,” JJ whispers sadly, stepping a little closer.

“I’m so sorry, pretty boy, I— I should’ve known or tried to be more inclusive at least, I’m so sorry I made you feel like this.”

The regret in his friends’ voices and the absence of a negative reaction brings him out of the safety of Luke’s arms slightly. His boyfriend is eyeing him with serious concern, and he tries a smile to reassure him a little, squeezing his hand.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” he manages, clearing his throat awkwardly as he finally succeeds in making eye contact. “It’s a long story and I’ll tell you another time, but, uh​​— this is Luke. We’ve been together for eight months, two weeks, and four days.”

Luke smiles fondly. “As much as we didn’t expect to reveal it like this, it’s nice to meet all of you properly,” Luke says warmly, shaking everyone’s hands quickly before stepping back to Spencer and interlocking their fingers, pressing a quick but meaningful kiss to his temple.

“I’m really glad you felt able to share this with us, Spence,” Tara says encouragingly, smiling at him in that bright, reassuring way of hers that rivals Penelope in the warmth and comfort it radiates. “I’m proud of you.”

Something about her reaction this entire time has him wondering whether she already knew. He’ll ask her later when he feels less like his heart is still firmly lodged in his throat.

“Me too, kid,” Derek agrees, smiling as well. Spencer wonders whether the initial shock and numb reaction was more a response to his own behaviour than anything about him and Luke, and the thought makes him feel substantially better.

JJ grins, stepping forward and grabbing Spencer’s other hand. “Me three.”

Before anyone can say anything else, the doors are opening again and Penelope is flying through them.

“Oh! Thank god you’re all okay! You just ran off after Spencer and I left you guys to it because I thought you could handle it better than I could but then you didn’t come back and even Hotch was worried, and—” she cuts herself off as she realises everyone staring at her, and slowly she takes in the scene around her. “Oh my god, I’ve missed something. Oh my god, I missed a moment, didn’t I? What have I told you guys about having moments without me? Someone tell me what happened, please, before I explode—”

“Alright, Penelope,” Spencer chuckles, interrupting her. He’s known her for too long to expect her to cut herself off when she’s on a tirade like that. “Uh, this is Luke. My boyfriend.”

“Your… your boyfriend? Oh my god, I finally get to meet him? Wait you told the others? Oh my god I’ve missed so much!”

“Penelope knew?” Derek asks, surprised.

“Half of mine and Spencer’s mutual friends are FBI Agents, and the other half are drag queens, of course I knew,” Penelope dismisses him, “but he wasn’t ready for me to meet his boyfriend yet or even know his name and I very nicely did not go hunting to find him out because I could’ve done that, but I didn’t, because I value you so much as a friend, Spencer, and I’m so glad you finally—”

“Penelope!” Spencer interjects, laughing even more as the tension and distress he’d felt only minutes ago finally melts away fully. “Do you actually want to introduce yourself to Luke, or do you want to keep rambling about drag queens?”

“Right! Yes!” she says eagerly, turning to Luke. “I’m Penelope and it is so nice to meet you, like you don’t even know how much I’ve wanted to meet the man who has my blueberry muffin blushing bright pink in the corner of my batcave while he texts on the phone, and I know you call him carinõ because I saw a text once and it’s the sweetest nickname ever, you are just the cutest, and we are going to be best friends—”

Spencer rests his head on Luke’s shoulder as he listens fondly to Penelope rambling and his friends chatting amongst themselves and everyone getting to know the most important man in his life — the only man he’s ever wanted anything long term with, the only man he’s ever wanted to actually marry one day — and a warm, sweet feeling of contentment floods his chest.

It’s far from the way he thought he’d feel after the team found about Luke, and he savours it, holds it in his mouth for as long as he can before swallowing the memory and filing it away to treasure forever. A moment like this deserves that kind of reverence.

“How are you feeling about tonight?” Luke asks gently as they crawl into bed, tired but happy at gone 2am. He pulls Spencer into his side as soon as they’re under the duvet, resting his chin on his head as he always does.

Moments like these make Spencer smile, the kind of familiar routine that’s so essential to their relationship. Luke had figured out early on that close physical contact and firm touches make him feel safe and settle his racing mind, so they’d worked out positions that made them both feel comfortable, and now relaxing into them is second nature.

“A bit weird,” Spencer admits after thinking for a moment. “I’m happy that they know now and everyone took it well, but it’s strange. A significant part of who I am has been not only that I’m gay, but the dedication I felt to protecting that secret. And now that it’s out, it feels like something private has been bared for my friends to inspect.”

“I think that’s only natural,” Luke muses quietly, pressing a kiss to Spencer’s curls. “It’ll take some getting used to, but you’ll adjust eventually.”

Spencer sighs. “Yeah, you’re right. After I tackle telling Hotch and Rossi, it’ll be nice not to have to hide it. I’ll be able to talk about you at work and maybe even go crazy and put a photo of you on my desk.”

“Wow, that is wild, check you out,” Luke chuckles, before they settle into a comfortable silence in the warm glow of their bedroom. Eventually, he speaks up though, quiet and reverent. “I’m proud of you, carinõ. I really am.”

The words instantly make Spencer smile, a light blush tinging his ears again. He hides his face in Luke’s chest, scooching impossibly closer into his arms. “I love you,” he whispers.

“I love you, too, Spencer,” Luke replies, a happy sigh in his voice.

He reaches over and turns off the bedside lamp. His hand returns to Spencer’s hair and something clicks into place somewhere, a fundamental alignment of the universe that brings a feeling of something so incredibly right as their breathing rhythmically matches to one another and they slide into the welcome embrace of sleep.

I hope you enjoyed that! I had a lot of fun with this one. If anyone has any more ralvez relationship reveal prompts, feel free to send them my way!

Taglist: @criminalmindsvibez @suburban--gothic @strippersenseii @takeyourleap-of-faith @makaylajadewrites @iamrenstark @hotchseyebrows @reidology @spencerspecifics @tobias-hankel @marsjareau @hotchscotchh @oliverbrnch @im-autistic @thataveragenerd @anxious-enby @kuolonsyoja @ropoto @cmily @nudgerox @love-pyramus @notevanbuckley @downwiththedoorpoole @nomajdetective (Add yourself to my taglist here!)

#my writing #ralvez #criminal minds #cm #luke alvez #spencer reid #ralvez fic #ralvez fanfic #ralvez fanfiction #luke alvez/spencer reid #luke alvez x spencer reid #spencer reid/luke alvez #spencer reid x luke alvez #ralvez fluff #ralvez relationship reveal #ralvez au

[forhereyesonlyyy]

love call. // iz*one, kcw. // one-shot.

in which missing your hardworking girlfriend causes you to do ungodly things, like staying up until two in the morning to drag her out for a late night date.

word count: 2.2k

author's note: chaewon on the brain all day 🥰 this is just something short and sweet for all my fellow chaewon thinkers 😩☝️ i wish to see her on a stage again 🥺

tags: fluff, wlw, established relationship, goofy, is it obvious i'm running out of things to say here.

warnings: none.

Perhaps your friends were right when they said that your girlfriend was the only person that could get you to act right because if she were around you right at this moment, you wouldn't be walking around the empty streets at two in the morning wearing shorts and a simple jacket. But you couldn't sleep to save your life, and you were getting tired just pacing around your room. Besides, what's a better plan than to take a short stroll around the neighborhood?

You could have probably watched another Netflix movie or played until your eyes started burning, but contrary to popular belief, you actually wanted to live beyond your 40s. It's not like walking around in the dark with absolutely no regard for what might be watching in the shadows was any safer, but at least you were having fun!

The city was practically dead anyway. Not even cars were seen driving around the streets. It truly felt like you were the only person in the world, and you loved that feeling. But it would have been more lovely if your girlfriend was with you.

Being an idol sure is demanding. I hope she's taking care of herself.

As if she could hear your thoughts from the other side of the city, your phone starts ringing and the special ringtone you set up just for when she calls or texts you starts filling the air. You immediately pulled out your phone and grinned when you saw her contact name on the screen.

You eagerly pressed the green button and put the phone against your ear, "Hi, beautiful."

Kim Chaewon laughs from the other line and you could feel your heart growing twice its size. Oh, how you longed to hear her laugh in person instead of through your phone. IZ*ONE has been busy with their Japanese promotions and they only got to go home a month ago, even then they had to attend a lot more activities. They had no time for rest, or to have a nice day off. It was the main reason why you have been so very worried about your girlfriend.

"I knew you'd be awake. Can't sleep?" Chaewon asks. You could hear her grunt, she was probably getting ready to sleep. While you appreciated her checking up on you at this ungodly hour, you wished that she just went straight to sleep. God knows how long of a day she probably had.

"As always. What's your excuse?" You jog across the street, your eyes fixed on the glowing sign of a cafè. Now you were fully aware of how you just stumbled into a street full of stores that are open until after midnight, and you have never been more thankful for bringing your wallet with you.

"Not to sound like I'm in love with you but," Chaewon pauses, and you could almost see her biting her bottom lip out of both nervousness and enthusiasm. "I was missing you— have been missing you. A lot. Too much, maybe?" Chaewon laughs at herself, and then mutters some nonsense that you couldn't decipher because her words made you stop on your tracks and tear up just a little.

Maybe you were too sensitive, or too dramatic, but you couldn't even put how much you missed her into words. For the months she was gone, you lost count of how many times you wished she would just come back to you. Perhaps you really were too attached, because at some point, you were in over your head at the thought of Chaewon realizing that romance did not have a place in her life as a rising star.

It was your biggest fear, getting abandoned by the person you love the most. Before Chaewon became your girlfriend, she was your most precious childhood friend. There was not a time in your life where she was never there for you, and you truly belived that your friendship would go on for the rest of your life.

You realized that your feelings for Chaewon was more than what a normal person would feel for their best friend when you entered your new high school together. She was just... glowing when you both attended the entrance ceremony, and you vividly remember how she gently took your hand in hers and promised that she'll do her best to make you proud.

But she didn't need to promise anything. Chaewon was already perfect in your eyes, you knew she wouldn't disappoint you ever.

Then on the same night she was announced to be a member of IZ*ONE, Chaewon expressed her gratitude to you by coming into your house and wordlessly kissing you while in tears. You didn't need her to confess her feelings through words since her kiss had already told you everything she wanted you to hear.

And now here you were, stronger than ever despite not having been seen each other for months too long.

"I miss you too, Chae," You replied after collecting yourself. There was no way that you would just allow yourself to break down in tears in the middle of the street. "Tell you what, the moment you're free to hang out, I'll get you that delicious strawberry cake we always loved consuming."

Chaewon laughs again, and the sound just makes you grin like a crazy person, "I'll hold you to that, (Y/N)." A yawn escapes her, and she groans. She probably knows that now you know that she's tired, you'll go on and on about how she should go to sleep. And you most certainly will!

"Go to sleep, baby. I'll text you when I wake up." You said. You did want to talk more, you wanted to hear Chaewon's voice for so many more hours but you'd hate to be the reason why she's so worn out. There will be opportunities some other time, I just have to be patient.

"Mm~ okay, I will," You hear some shuffling in the background. It was Chaewon making herself comfortable in her bed. "Wait. (Y/N), my love, are you seriously outside right now?" Your girlfriend questions. And all of a sudden, she didn't sound so tired anymore.

You scratched your head, "Um. No. What makes you think that?" It was never a good idea to lie to the person that knows you better than anyone else, but you had to try!

"I can literally hear the wind against your mic." Chaewon said. You squeezed your eyes shut, of course you would lose the battle before it even started.

Sighing, you turned away from the various shops, "Fine, fine. I am outside. I just... took a little walk because I couldn't fall asleep. I'll be going back home now, where I'm safe and where my beloved wouldn't yell at me." You replied with a teasing smile although Chaewon couldn't see it.

"It's dangerous to be out so late in the night, babe. I thought I told you that if you can't sleep, you can just call me?" You could hear Chaewon sit back up. Her tone was firm, you knew you couldn't joke around with her anymore. You take a seat at the nearest empty bench and snuggled yourself in your jacket. It was getting colder, but something inside you told you to not go home just yet despite your girlfriend's scolding.

"But you've been overworked to the bone, Chae. I didn't want to be an inconvenience," You admitted. You nervously fiddled with the zipper of your jacket. "You shouldn't even be calling me right now, you know?"

"(Y/N)... I'll use my time however I want, and if it's to talk to you, I'll take every sleepless nights I can get," Oh, you were so hopelessly in love with this woman. You leaned back on the bench as tears suddenly started falling down your cheeks. It absolutely infuriated you how Chaewon just knew what to say to you. "You're never a bother, okay? I love you, I really do." Chaewon means every word that she says, you could feel it in your heart.

You held back a sob, "I love you more, dummy."

Chaewon explodes in a burst of adorable giggles, "You're the dummy here! But in all seriousness, please go home. I wouldn't want you to get sick when I'm not there to take care of you." Even though your girlfriend was right, the brightly lit shops further down the street made several light bulbs in your head illuminate, and you just couldn't pass up on the opportunity to do that.

"Yes, ma'am. I'm going back now." You said, now jogging towards the bike rental shop. The staff sitting by the entrance gave you a small wave as you approached him.

"Good girl," Chaewon yawns again, and you hear her collapse against the pillows. "Don't stay awake for too long now. Love you." Her words were slurred, you just knew she was one second away from running off into dreamland.

You smiled brightly, "Love you more." And with that, you hung up. You finally looked at the old man sitting by the bikes with shining, eager eyes.

Genius, that is what I am.

~

Exactly thirty minutes later, you start regretting your life choices. You were standing right outside IZ*ONE's backyard dead in the night, it wouldn't be surprising if someone mistakes you as a burglar or an obsessive fan and decides to call the cops on you. But you were already there, you would only wear yourself out if you decide to turn back now. Taking a deep breath, you carefully dropped the bike on the ground and took out your phone.

Before you could think to contact Chaewon once again, the sound of footsteps hurriedly approaching made you panic. I'm really about to be arrested like this, huh? It's been a fun life I guess.

"EUNBI-UNNIE, THERE'S A THIEF— wait, (Y/N)?!"

As if it the deity of fortune was looking down on you, Kim Chaewon stands a few meters in front of you wearing a shocked look on her face and a single slipper on her hand. It was probably what she was going to attack you with, had she not realized that it was you who had technically snuck into their backyard.

You smiled sheepishly at your startled girlfriend, "Surprise?" You barely finished speaking when Chaewon throws herself onto you, literally. You lost your balance and fell into the grass. Chaewon squeals into your ear and plants several kisses onto your face, and you laugh as she does so.

Chaewon pauses and holds your face for a good minute, staring at you as if she couldn't believe that you were right there with her. Then she engulfs you in a more gentle hug, and you wrap your arms around her waist, taking pleasure in the feeling of her loving embrace. Gods, you were about to cry again. It has been way too long since you were physically with Chaewon. You were almost willing to forget whatever plan you had and just cuddle with her for the rest of the night.

"I thought I told you to go home and sleep, you dummy!" Chaewon hits your shoulder, almost in tears herself. You raised yourself from the ground so that she was sitting on your lap, and you rested your head on her shoulder. Just her mere presence would have been enough for you, but now that she was right there, you didn't dare to not take advantage of the moment.

You hugged her closer than you ever have before, and you tilted your head to look into her beautiful eyes that never ceased to make you feel safe and appreciated, "I really love you, Chaewon." The pure sincerity on your voice was what really pushed Chaewon to let go of the restraints and let her tears fall free.

"I love you. I'm glad you're here." Chaewon slightly drips her head down to catch your lips with hers. It felt as if a collection of the world's biggest and most beautiful fireworks had set off inside your heart as you returned the affection. Chaewon always had that effect on you, she made every kiss feel like the first time and it just absolutely makes you swoon. The way she would carefully run her hand through your hair during it all made your heart go crazy.

You were never going to get tired of being in love with Kim Chaewon. Even if the two of you somehow ended up being on the opposite ends of the world, your hearts would always be together. Or something like that.

"This is probably a dumb question, but," Chaewon pulls away and smiles at you. Oh, yeah. Her smiles make your brain go haywire as well. "What are you doing here, anyway?" Your girlfriend asks.

"I'm taking you out on the best date you've ever had, baby," You said with a wide grin. (You never knew, but every time you showed her that stupidly cute smile, Chaewon falls for you even more.) Your face falls immediately a second after, however. "I-If that's okay. I mean, it is pretty late and you're exhausted."

Chaewon beams at you, and gosh you could just feel all her love through it, "I'd love to go on a date with you, (Y/N)," She then takes your face in her hands again, and her eyes immediately drop down to your lips that she has missed so very much. "But maybe after this."

Yeah, now that was a plan you could get behind.

#izone oneshots #izone scenarios #izone x reader #izone reactions #izone imagines #kim chaewon x reader #kim chaewon imagines #kim chaewon oneshots #kim chaewon scenarios #kim chaewon reactions #girl group oneshots #girl group x reader #girl group imagines #girl group scenarios #girl group reactions

[tbmaybank]

He Doesn’t Need To Know (Part 4)

Warnings: none, just fluff ❤️

Summary: the group finds out about you and JJ.

A/n: I hope you like it! I wrote it pretty quickly 😬😂

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Requests Are Open!

——————————————————————————

You wake up still entangled in JJs arms, with him slightly snoring. You snuggle in closer to him, enjoying this morning bliss. In the past, he would always have to sneak back to his room before you woke up, so waking up next to him was a new, welcomed change. You can hear John B in the kitchen digging through cabinets, and as much as you’d love to stay right here, you know you need to talk to him before everyone one inevitably shows up.

You kiss JJs jaw line before moving to get out of the bed, but his arms pull you right back to him. “No, stay.” A sleepy whisper coming from the boy who still had his eyes closed.

“I’ll be right back, J, go back to sleep” You giggle.

“Mm fine.” He pouts, but is almost instantly back to snoring.

Smiling at the cute man laying in your bed, you make your way to the kitchen where your brother is eating cereal. “Hey.” You say, plopping in the chair next to him.

“How was your date?” He asks with a mouthful of food.

“It was okay.” Hesitating before you continue, “JJ said he told you some things last night..”

He just smirks and nods at you a little.

“Look, I’m sorry for lying to you about us. I should have just talked to you about it right away, I was just scared.” You confess, while nervously playing with the ends of your hair.

“Why were you scared? I know I can be protective, but am I really that bad that you’re scared to talk to me?” He asks while pushing the cereal bowl away from him.

“It wasn’t just that. I was scared you wouldn’t approve, but I was scared in general. I didn’t know how serious it was to him, or if he felt the way I did. If I was gonna end up looking like an idiot, I didn’t want everyone seeing it.” Admitting that not only to him, but also to yourself for the first time. And it was true. Each time JJ had said something about wanting to stop hiding it, you instantly thought about what would happen if he left you, and everyone would see how dumb you were for falling for him.

“And do you know now? How he feels?” You just nod, smiling slightly. “And did you guys work out your little lovers quarrel? I’m assuming you did, as his room was empty this morning, and last I checked, you don’t snore like a man. So either he stayed somewhere else last night and you have that date in your room, orrr…” he raises his eyebrows at the end.

Blushing a little, you nod. “Yeah, we worked it out. We’re back together.”

“Good. I love you guys. I don’t want to see either of you hurting again, so no more fighting or breaking up. But if he ever doesn’t treat you right, I will kill him, just so you know.”

“I kinda figured.” You say, giggling, just happy that you could finally talk to your brother about this. You hear your bedroom door open, and JJ stumbles into the kitchen. Hair messier than normal, rubbing his eyes. John B laughs watching him almost run straight into the wall.

“Good morning, sunshine!” Your brother shouts, overly cheerful, to which JJ just grunts as he goes and gets a water bottle from the fridge, and sitting next to you, across from John B.

“It’s way to early to be awake right now.” He says, while laying his head on the table.

“Go back to sleep, J.” You say, rubbing his arm.

“No, wanna take you out to breakfast.” He says, still leaning on the table, sounding like he’s falling asleep right there.

————

An hour later, you were finally leaving to go to breakfast as JJ insisted. Even though it was his idea to go, it took him forever to get ready. But now you were finally walking into the little diner, him finally seeming alive and not like a walking zombie.

You went to sit across from him in the little booth, before he pouted and asked you to sit next to him.

“Oh, so we’re gonna be that obnoxious couple that sits on the same side of the booth?” You tease.

“Yes, absolutely.” Making you laugh. You guys order your food, talking about plans for the day, his arms draped around you. He would occasionally interrupt you to place a kiss on your lips, which you didn’t mind one bit. You were so caught up in each other, you didn’t notice Kie and Pope slide across from you, until you hear the sound of Pope clearing his throat. You guys turn and see them both resting their chins on their fists, elbows propped up on the table, eyebrows raised.

“So this is new.” Pope dramatically dragged out the word ‘new’.

You just blush, you knew you were gonna tell them today, just didn’t expect to get caught kissing at a diner by them. JJ, however, seems unfazed. He just pulls you closer, smiling big.

“Not new at all actually,” he starts explaining, “we’re just masters at deceit.”

“Well, I hope John B knows about this.” Kie says, leaning back and crossing her arms.

“Well, he does now. JJ spilled it all to him last night.” You say.

“So you guys.. you’re like, actually together? Like a proper couple?” Pope questions.

“Yeah, man, she’s my girl.” He says, running his fingers up and down your arm.

“How did this even happen?” Kie asks.

“Well,” JJ starts, “it’s a funny story. See, y/n here needed help installing a-“

“JJ!” You say, elbowing him in the ribs. “I don’t want all my secrets put out there.” Causing Kie and Pope to raise their eyebrows, and JJ to laugh.

“Okay, okay.” He says putting his hands up in defense. “It just kinda happened, and we were together in secret for a few months, then we broke up, and now we’re back together, with no secrets.” He thinks before adding “well, I guess one secret since she doesn’t want me to tell you how.”

“And now I’m just left with more questions.” Pope says.

“You guys aren’t going to be like, all over each other all the time now, are you?” Kie asks.

“No”

“Absolutely.”

“JJ…” you shake your head at the boy, and Kie rolling her eyes at him.

“Wait, are we the last to know?” Pope acts offended at this thought.

“I haven’t told Sarah, so she’ll be the last I guess. Unless John B already told her. We were gonna tell you all, when everyone was together, later. But I guess plans changed.” You laugh as you say the last part. You decide to pull out your phone and text Sarah, you really didn’t want her finding out on accident like this, as you guys have gotten really close since they started dating. She definitely felt like that sister you always wanted.

-Has John B told you anything about me today?

-no, why? Is everything okay??

-yes everything’s fine! I just kinda started seeing someone, and didn’t want him telling you before I got the chance.

-wait what?! You have a boyfriend now? Do I know him??

-ha, yeah.. it’s JJ.

You nervously wait for her response, as you only half listen to the conversation JJ is having with Kie and Pope, who have now ordered their own food. It feels like an eternity before your phone finally buzzed.

-what!! Omg, I could tell you liked him, but I didn’t know anything was actually going on. I’m so happy for you!!

Smiling, your put your phone away. You look at him as he steals pieces of what was left on your plate, everything feeling more real now that everyone knows. “What?” He asks as he swallows the bacon he stole from you.

“Nothing, I’m just happy.” You say, causing a big grin to appear on his face. He pulls you into a kiss, mumbling “me too.” Against your lips.

“Oh this is gonna get old fast.” Pope says, making all four of you laugh.

#JJ maybank #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank fluff #outer banks #outer banks imagine #outer banks series #john b routledge #pope heyward #kie carrera #kiara carrera

[criminalmindzjunkie]

Unlucky in Love

masterlist

Gif credit to @ogledalo-moje-duse​

Summary: Spencer is unlucky in love - until he isn’t.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Warnings: swearing, some suggestive content

Word Count: 3.4k

           Spencer Reid is, by most people’s definition, unlucky in love.

           It wasn’t for lack of trying. In his early twenties, Spencer often caught himself fantasizing about being on the receiving end of some great storybook romance straight out of one of the classic novels on his bookshelf. On the rare occurrence where his mind was able to slow down long enough, Spencer would daydream about what his future partner would be like. Would they share his fondness for the written word, or his penchant for foreign cinema? Would they find his tendency to go off on tangents endearing and his less than fashionable style of dress charming? Spencer liked to think so, but the likelihood of finding someone who could accept him despite all of his quirks seemed low.

           But still he hoped, even though he knew hope was a dangerous thing. Hope gave life to the possibility of disappointment – and if there was one thing Spencer did not need more of, it was that.

           Spencer Reid was in love with the idea of love – obsessed with the idea of his soul intertwining with someone else’s. But with his thirtieth birthday quickly approaching and absolutely no prospective love interests in sight, Spencer was feeling more than a little disheartened. It certainly didn’t help that everywhere he turned, love was running rampant. Hotch had Beth, Penelope had Kevin, Jennifer had Will, and Morgan had… any number of possible partners. Emily and Rossi were both unattached, but happily so in a way that Spencer just couldn’t quite manage.

           It wasn’t that he didn’t like seeing the people around him happy – it was just that he couldn’t help but wonder when he’d finally get his chance at love.

           A month before Spencer’s thirtieth birthday, everything changes.

           When a member of Garcia’s victims’ support group goes missing, it’s all hands on deck at the BAU. It’s not that they’d give any less than one hundred percent on any other given day, but as with any case that hits close to home, everyone on the team is in a frenzy trying to put the pieces together. The thing that makes this case different is the fact that people from other departments are quick to lend a hand. It comes as no surprise to Spencer – Penelope is a social butterfly by nature. She made it her business to know and befriend everyone in the building. Her sunny disposition is hard not to love, and her current distress had garnered the support of more than a few non-team members.

           By the time the case wraps up, the bullpen is much busier and, much to Spencer’s chagrin, much louder than usual. The steady influx of people has Spencer’s head spinning and he can’t seem to focus on the papers sitting in front of him. What should take him thirty seconds to read has almost taken twenty minutes, and at this point the words on the paper are all running together. Spencer knows that it doesn’t help that he’s running on less than three hours of sleep, as evidenced by the frequency of his yawns. Worse even is the fact that his coffee cup is empty and no, he thinks, that simply will not do. With a sigh Spencer pushes away from his desk, bones creaking as he stands.

           With his coffee cup in hand, Spencer shuffles to the breakroom. He goes through the motions of preparing his drink, lazily stirring in the mountain of sugar before turning to leave.

           Spencer supposes that if it weren’t for the fact that he was horribly sleep deprived, he would’ve seen you walking down the hallway. But alas, Spencer’s alertness had been compromised by poor sleeping habits, and he isn’t aware of your presence until his body is colliding with yours and his hot coffee is dripping down the front of your blouse.

           “Ouch,” you whimper, and Spencer is immediately overwhelmed with guilt.

           “O-Oh my God, I am so sorry,” he splutters. Without waiting for a response, Spencer’s rushing into the break room and procuring a thick stack of napkins. The part of his brain that controls logical thinking is apparently overrun by the onset of his mortification, and in an act of absolutely panic, he begins to dab at the stains with one of the napkins.

           “I-I wasn’t looking where I was going. I’m so so sorry,” Spencer stutters out, frantically attempting to blot the stain. “I’ll give you money for a new shirt. A-Actually, you should probably take this one off.  The best way to treat scalds is to immediately get the person away from the heat source. You should also run some cold water over it.”

           In his hurry to rectify his mistake, Spencer hadn’t managed to take a good look at you. When his eyes leave the stain in favor of looking at your face, he prepares himself to see anger there. What he doesn’t expect is for your face to be just as flushed as his, with eye brows raised in shock.

          Spencer also doesn’t expect this to be the moment he’s been waiting on his entire life, but one look into your eyes tells him this is it - this is your person.

           Stunned into a stupor, Spencer stills, eyes boring into your own. You’re even more beautiful than he’d dared to let himself imagine, but in all honesty that didn’t matter much. What matters is the fact that there’s a faint hint of smile lines etched into your skin, and your eyes are so inherently kind that Spencer has no doubt that you’re as gentle as you are alluring. Your benevolence is also evidenced by the fact that you hadn’t immediately begun to yell at him, and for that he is thankful.

           Spencer’s revelation renders him unable to form any semblance of thought, and before he knows it almost a solid minute of him gaping at you passes. You begin to squirm uncomfortably under his gaze.

           “I, uh, appreciate the help, and you seem like a nice enough guy, but your hand is on my boob and I kind of make it a point to not let strangers touch the goods. So, if you don’t mind,” you stammer, looking pointedly at his hand that is still pressing a napkin to your chest. Spencer recoils as if he’s the one that’s been scalded.

           “I-I didn’t mean to, um, t-touch your -,” Spencer gulps, “- chest. I swear I was just trying to get the stain out. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he chokes out. Spencer had imagined the moment he’d come face to face with his person a million times, and none of his daydreams had accounted for the possibility of him giving her second degree burns and inadvertently copping a feel. His emotions fell somewhere between mortification and elation.

           “Mm likely story,” you murmur, lips upturning into a smile that has Spencer feeling weak in the knees. Spencer practically swoons. “Do you make it a habit to ask strangers to take their tops off, or am I just special?”

           Oh God, had I really suggested that? Spencer cringes and wonders what good an IQ as high as his was when it seemed to fail him at times like these. Speaking to women had never been a specialty of his, despite Derek’s coaching, and Spencer was floundering to come up with an acceptable response.

           You are the most special woman in the world, probably. Nope – too creepy, and Spencer definitely doesn’t want to scare you off. Not when he’s been waiting the better part of thirty years to meet you.

           I didn’t mean to insinuate that you should take off your shirt, but I also wouldn’t particularly mind if you did. Even worse – that would certainly earn him a stern talking to from HR.

           Spencer decides to go for the honest approach.

           “I-I’m not sure how to answer that.”

           His honesty draws a laugh from you, and Spencer loves the sound so much that he decides then that he’ll never tell a lie again. You shake your head at him and reach for the napkins that he still has clutched in his hands.

           “What’s your name?” you ask him as you continue his earlier efforts to sop up the coffee.

           It’s probably the easiest question he’s ever been asked. That doesn’t stop him from making a fool out of himself, though.

           “I’m Doctor Spencer R-Reid. Uh, I’m Spencer. Y-You don’t have to call me Doctor.”

           Someone please put me out of my misery.

           Your eyes meet his again and he can tell that you’re holding back a laugh.

           “Okay, then, Spencer,” you say as you discard the napkins in a nearby trash bin. “I’m Y/N.” You punctuate your words with an outstretched hand, and before Spencer can think better of it, the usual spiel come tumbling out of his mouth.

           “The number of pathogens passed during a handshake is staggering. It’s actually safer to kiss.”

           Your lower your hand and cock your head to the side.

           “Are you always this forward, Doctor Reid?” you tease him, eyes flashing amusedly.

           “I-I didn’t mean that we should kiss,” Spencer interjects, cringing at the way his voice has suddenly raised in pitch. “N-Not that I wouldn’t kiss you! I-I’m sure that kissing you would be really n-nice. I just meant that… you know. Germs.”

           Are you there, God? It’s me, Spencer. A hole opening up in the ground and swallowing me up would be great.

           To Spencer’s delight, you don’t seem offended in the slightest.

           “I cannot believe that they’ve been hiding you up here, Spencer Reid. I should’ve come to visit Penny years ago.”

           Wait – what?

           “You work here?”

           You nod.

           “I work on the floor below this one – sex crimes,” you explain.

           “For how long?”

           “Coming up on three years now.”

           Three years. You’d been right under Spencer’s nose for three years and he hadn’t the slightest clue. You’d parked your car in the same parking garage and taken the same elevator as he! How many times had your paths nearly crossed in the last three years? If he’d been just a little bit earlier or a little bit later getting into work, might the two of you met earlier? The possibility of it was maddening.

           “Oh, wow. I-I’ve never seen you,” Spencer mutters lamely. But miraculously, you don’t think he’s lame, if your response is any indication.

           “Nor I you, Doc. It’s a shame, too. You’re a funny guy.”

           Spencer Reid has been called a lot of things in his lifetime – funny was never one of them.

           “Y-Yeah. I’m a real riot at parties,” he deadpans.            “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind,” you hum, and Spencer really hopes that you mean it. “Would you mind escorting me to Penelope’s office?”

           Spencer nods, and the two of you fall in step together. Spencer’s wracking his brain again for something – anything- he could say to fill the silence. Thankfully, you don’t seem quite as inept at conversing as he, and you beat him to it.

           “You look a little young yourself, Spencer. How long have you worked here?”

           “Uh, I’ve actually worked here for almost eight years. I started when I was twenty-two.”

           Your eyebrows raise in shock.

           “Twenty-two, huh? That makes you – what? Thirty now? I wouldn’t put you a day past twenty-five,” you muse, and Spencer isn’t quite sure what to make of that. You must pick up on the conflicted look on his face, because you clarify. “That’s a good thing, Doc. I hope I look as good as you do when I’m thirty.”

           Spencer has to remind himself how to breathe.

           “I’m not thirty yet. Technically I have twenty-three more days. I could have a rapid decline in attractiveness by then.”

           Spencer’s not usually one to try to be funny, but she seems to have a good sense of humor and he wants to impress you in any way he can.

           “I guess I’ll have to swing back by in twenty-three days and find out.”

           The two of you come to a stop in front of Penelope’s office and Spencer tries not to look as disappointed as he feels. He doesn’t want your meeting to come to an end – not when there’s so much about you that he wants to know. He wants to ask about your opinion on books and obscure foreign films and most importantly, Spencer wants to know what you think about him. Did meeting him affect you in the same way it did him? Did you secretly wish to make this moment last, too?

           Spencer wants to say so much, but he can’t. He’s too awkward and too scared and too nervous to find the right words. So instead, he gives you a tight-lipped smile.

           “I’m sorry about your blouse. Can I please give you the money to buy a new one? I feel like it’s the least I can do.”

           “Absolutely not. It’s really not that big of a deal. Didn’t even really care for the shirt, if I’m being honest. Red really isn’t my color.”

           Spencer wants to tell you how wrong you are – that he’s infinitely certain that you’d look irresistible in any color – but he doesn’t.

           You reach for the door knob, and Spencer’s shoulders slump.

           “It was nice meeting you, Spencer.”

           And then you’re gone, and Spencer can’t help but think that he royally fucked up the most important introduction of his entire life.

--

           When Spencer envisioned how his life would look at age thirty, he’d imagined it being a lot different than it is now. He’d hoped to use his intelligence for something great – finding a way to cure Alzheimer’s had been his main aspiration. Yet, here he was, thirty years old with nothing more than three PhDs to his name. He’d accomplished nothing of great significance, and the idea of having wasted his intelligence was eating away at him.

           In short, Spencer Reid was in a bit of a funk.

           It didn’t help that he hadn’t seen you since that fateful day in the bullpen. Spencer had contemplated paying you a visit, but the lingering embarrassment over his actions kept him from reaching out. He didn’t think he could handle how badly a rejection from you would hurt, so instead he sulked around the office and wallowed in his own self-deprecation.

           Spencer’s birthday wasn’t something he tended to advertise. From a young age, he’d chosen to observe it silently. Usually, his mother would forget, and he never really had any friends to celebrate with, so the day was always rather unimportant to him. Perhaps he would order takeout and gorge himself on greasy food while he sat alone in his apartment. It had been good enough for him last year, and he supposed it would have to suffice this year as well.

           He made it a point not to mention it to his coworkers, and the day passed by just as any other day. By the time five o clock rolled around, Spencer was waving a goodbye to his coworkers and heading out the door. As he waits for the elevator, he debates on whether to order Thai food or pizza for dinner.

           Just as he settles on Thai, the elevator doors open.

           “Oh, thank God, I was worried that you had left already!”

           Before Spencer can get over the initial shock of seeing you, you’re stepping out of the elevator and into his space, an excited smile on your lips. And then you’re holding out your hand, and Spencer’s almost moved to tears when he sees you wielding a single chocolate cupcake.

           “I wasn’t sure if you’d like chocolate or vanilla better, so I went with my gut. I get the feeling you’re a chocolate kind of guy,” you say, eyes shining as you look up at him. “So, was I right?”

           “You brought this for me?” Spencer asks, voice barely above a whisper. He can’t fathom it – that you had spared him any thought past your initial meeting. Spencer had surely expected you to forget about him entirely. Either that, or you’d written him off as someone to be avoided.

           You nod.

           “Of course, I did. It’s your birthday. Everyone deserves something sweet on their birthday.” You pause, the smile dropping from your face. “It is your birthday, right? I didn’t miss it, did I?”

           Spencer is slow to shake his head.

           “N-No, you didn’t miss it. I’m just surprised you remembered.”

           You chuckled softly.

           “You’re very unforgettable, Doctor Reid,” you say, and Spencer’s heart flutters in his chest. “And you didn’t answer my question.” You gesture to the cupcake expectantly.

           “Chocolate is my favorite,” Spencer breathes out, raising a shaky hand and taking it from her. “I… Thank you. You didn’t have to do this. It’s not that big of a deal.”

           “Are you kidding me? You’re turning thirty. That’s a very big deal, Doc.,” you argue, and Spencer gives you a tentative smile.

           “If you say so.”

           “I do,” you smirk, before hitting the button to open the elevator doors. “So, do you have any big plans to celebrate?”

           The doors open and you and Spencer file into the elevator together– an event three years in the making.

           “Not really. I was just going to order some food and stay in,” Spencer says before taking a bite of the cupcake. It tastes wonderful – better than a store-bought cupcake could ever be. This cupcake was undoubtably made from scratch, and the thought of you taking the time out of your day to bake something for him makes him feel weak at the knees. Pair that with the way you’re looking up at him and Spencer worries he might collapse.

           “What kind of food?”

           “Thai,” Spencer says around the mouthful of cake.

           “Mm,” you hum. “You know – I happen to love Thai food. And I also happen to not have any plans for the evening.”

           Even Spencer, who struggles to decipher the simplest of social cues, can deduce that you are insinuating that you want to spend the evening with him. He’s thankful, then, that he had already swallowed the bite of cupcake, because there’s no doubt in his mind that he’d have choked on it. Spencer gapes at you, but your gaze is unwavering and your body language gives no indication that you were joking.

           “D-Do… Do you want to, uh, come over?” Spencer trips over his words more times than any grown man should, but in his defense, he isn’t exactly well versed in matters like this.

           “Do you want me to come over?”

           “Yes.” Spencer answers so quickly that it should be embarrassing, but it’s hard to feel anything but happy when you’re looking at him like that.

           “Then in that case, I thought you’d never ask,” you sigh dramatically, and then the door opens up and you link your arm with his. “You know, I was beginning to think I’d never see you again. I’ve been driving Penelope crazy asking about you, Doc.”

           “You’ve been asking about me?” Spencer asks, incredulous.

           “Absolutely. It’s not every day that you meet a guy who has the audacity to feel you up and ask you to undress within the first five minutes. I just had to know more,” you tease, and Spencer can’t help but laugh. Despite the cold air of the parking garage, Spencer feels warm – warmer than he’s ever felt and he knows that it has everything to do with the way you’ve pressed yourself against his side.

           “In that case, I’m very glad I spilled my coffee on you,” Spencer says and you let out a snort.

           “Yeah, I could’ve done without that part. And the part where you called me germy.”

           “I did not mean it like that,” Spencer insists. You hum and detach yourself from him, and Spencer instantly misses the contact.

           “Because it’s your birthday, I’ll let you off the hook,” you announce, making your way to the other side of his car, all while never taking your eyes off him. “And if you’re lucky, birthday boy, I might just be willing to test that theory of yours.”

           Spencer cocks his head to the side.

           “Theory?”

           You nod, and the smile that creeps across your face is the best birthday present he’s ever gotten.

           “You said you thought kissing me would be nice. I think we should find out.”

           Spencer Reid is, by most people’s definition, unlucky in love. But as he steals glances at you on the way to his apartment, his chest swells with a hope that maybe – just maybe – his luck is about to change.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer x y/n #criminal minds self insert #spencer reid self insert #fluff #fanfiction

[lepusrufus]

Double edged scalpel ch. 2

Ch. 1

Summary: Cassanda Awkward Asshole Dimitrescu

---

After a couple weeks of doing normal maid chores, Nicole was not expecting to see the dungeons again. Not after Cassandra’s little “failed experiment”. But all good things must come to an end eventually, don’t they? And to an end they came when a faint buzzing reached her ears mid-mopping the floor in one of the main halls.

 Two gloved hands were placed on her hips, pinning her in place, while Cassandra's chin came to rest on her shoulder. She inhaled deeply before finally speaking. 

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" 

Yes you very much are. 

"Of course not, my lady." 

"Good good. Sadly my study is quite a mess again and I was wondering…" one hand came to teasingly caress Nicole’s cheek. “You aren’t busy tomorrow, are you?”

She wasn’t. In fact, tomorrow was Nicole’s day off, something that she would bet on a lifetime supply of coffee that Cassandra was well aware of. It took every ounce of self control not to let a groan accompany her next words.

“I am not.” Asshole.

She felt herself being spun around, Cassandra’s face uncomfortably close to hers. “Be there by ten then.” And, with the sickle now under Nicole’s chin, “Don’t be late.”

And just as easily as she appeared, Cassandra dissipated into a cloud of flies and made her leave. A sigh of relief got caught in Nicole’s throat when she noticed the other two sisters standing in the doorframe opposite from the one Cassandra flew out of. They both gave her an amused look, seeing the faint blush on Nicle’s cheeks and, to her dread, they both approached her. Bela was the first to speak, thankfully keeping her distance.

“So what exactly is your deal? Immune to all the blood and gore, hm,” she hummed, eyes inquisitive .

“It’s been a while since Cassie was so dead set on scaring someone,” Daniela chirped in from behind and Nicole had to force herself not to snort at the nickname.

So that’s what this was about. Lil’ old Cassie was throwing a hissy fit because one person in this castle wasn’t cowering and bowing at her feet the moment they saw some blood splattered on her otherwise beautiful face. If she had to work in this hellhole of a village, then at the very least she could get some mild satisfaction out of annoying the family sadist. With the other sisters however, there was no point in hiding what her “deal” was. 

“I worked as a medical examiner.” At a raised blonde eyebrow she specified, “I used to examine dead bodies. Autopsies and all that.”

Bela’s face turned from mild shock to amusement, her eyes darting to the younger sister who straight up started laughing while the eldest, at least trying to keep her composure, chuckled. 

“Oh this is gonna be interesting,” the redhead said through giggles.

---

Nicole really had hoped that Cassandra meant 10 pm, with how the Dimitrescus were nowhere to be found during the early day, and she would still have the day to herself until night came. That idea went completely out the tinted windows when, at nine thirty, the head chambermaid came to remind her of the change in schedule. She quickly downed the remaining coffee from her cup while mentally cursing and bolted to her room to change into proper attire, then out the door she went. 

Where was she even supposed to meet the brunette? The doors to the dungeons were bolted shut and she doubted Cassandra would oh so graciously escort her this time. Then again, Lady Dimitrescu did say that she had to be supervised. She got her answer when the doors opened with a click and a drawn out groan from the heavy wood. Cassandra was standing there, eyes scrutinizing as ever while giving Nicole a once over. Then she pulled out a pocket watch that looked at least a century old.

“You’re…” eyes narrowed at the small silver object. “Seven minutes early. Oh you’re as annoying about being on time as Bela aren’t you?”

Well you did make it a point to tell me to be on time, you absolute hypocrite. Instead of voicing her opinions though, Nicole settled for following the other girl deep into the castle’s undergrounds, through damp and oddly warm corridors. The giddiness was back into Cassandra’s demeanor, golden eyes occasionally turning to the small redhead walking behind her with an expression of barely concealed glee. This was definitely not good news. 

It took about .5 seconds to notice what got the brunette so happy when they entered her study. The room was definitely cleaner than the first time, only a handful of devices were dirty and the floor needed some mopping. The tables however... One was covered in fresh blood and the other had a dead body sprawled on it, partially covered by a stained sheet. Oh the irony.

While Nicole was cleaning the unoccupied table, she was facing the brunette, somehow trusting her even less with a scalpel in hand than with a sickle. Not that watching her absolutely botch an autopsy was much better mind you. 

Has nobody taught you about the Y incision?!

That's too dee- congrats you’re making a mess.

That cut needs to go lower. What, are you afraid of some balls?

Oh my god are you trying to take the heart out before even taking care of the guts-

“What is it?” Cassandra’s voice came with a low growl, then a slight cock of the head. “You’re staring.”

“N-nothing,” Nicole stumbled over her reply, realizing too late that her hand had stilled on the rag she was using to clean the blood.

“One thing that I hate more than being disrespected is being lied to.” The warning was clear in her tone. “So I’ll ask again: what is it?”

Nicole was sure that being criticized was something she would hate even more, so she made the split second decision to go with a white lie.

“I just...find autopsies quite fascinating.” Well, in a way she did.

“...You do?” Golden eyes widened in what was probably the first truly genuine emotion Nicole has ever seen on Cassandra’s face: surprise, and a hint of curiosity. 

When Nicole reaffirmed her reply, the brunette’s eyes stayed on her for a few long seconds, trying to find the traces of a lie. When she found none, she just dismissed the other girl with an awkward cough and a “Those knives won’t clean themselves.” 

A tense silence fell on the room, only disturbed by the occasional clink of metal tools or the sloshing of organs being handled by the brunette. After the table was wiped to a reflective surface, Nicole moved on to mopping the blood trails on the floor. She was grateful for the chance to step away from Cassandra, if only for a bit. After the floor too was clean, it was time to wipe the few dirty blades, thankfully not as many as last time. She took a dagger from its holster on the wall and carefully ran a piece of cloth over the blade, washing away dried crimson clots. 

As much as it was probably a bad idea, she couldn't help throwing a subtle glance behind her at Cassandra. A few organs were placed on the table at the body’s feet, and she was taking notes in a leatherbound notebook that looked well used. The idea that she had any interest in the bodies beyond being food gave Nicole an oddly nostalgic feeling. It sent her right back in high school, when one of her friends who took art history classes was telling her all about how da Vinci used real dead bodies in order to study anatomy. Yeah, da Vinci but the more attractive versio- fuck.

She hissed and retracted her hand as she felt the sharp blade cut her wrist and almost dropped the dagger. The effort to conceal the pain was there, but useless as Cassandra was by her side in mere seconds. 

"Oh did you cut yourself?" She asked with feign concern, and grabbed her hand. "Here let me help you with that." 

"Oh no I'm okay really no nee-" 

Nicole's words died in her throat when Cassandra stuck out her tongue and dragged it, slowly, across the cut, collecting every last drop of blood. To top it off, she let out a low moan and gave the soft skin there a small nip, successfully making the redhead’s breath hitch. Now any normal and sane person would think I still have a knife in my hand, I should use it, but Nicole would be lying to everyone and then herself if she said she didn’t have a thing for danger. And it doesn’t get much more dangerous than this, now does it.

“Mm...you taste wonderful.” 

Was she supposed to thank her?

“You’re lucky you intrigue me, otherwise you would make for some fine wine.” She finished with her trademark cackle.

Oh she was definitely not getting a thanks now. Nicole rolled her eyes slightly, tugging her hand away. She was half expecting Cassandra not to release her, but instead she let go of her wrist and, with a giggle, she returned to her work without another word.

---

That night, Nicole made damn sure to wash the cut until her skin felt like it would have a permanent sensation of pins and needles. Once a bandage was securely wrapped around her wrist she sat down with a cup of tea, not quite ready to sleep yet. How ironic would it be if she died of an infection while living in a castle where people are literally turned into food and wine.

Although in all honesty, she was quite certain her death would be far more entertaining.

#cassandra dimitrescu x maiden #bela dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #fanfic #resident evil village #gore #blood

[anonquack]

| Give In |

Alex Quackity x Reader, Oneshot!

Word Count: 1858

Warnings: None!

Summary: The twitter trending page brings attention to some feelings you and Quackity had been avoiding, but it also allows you two to admit said feelings.

As a fairly popular streamer, it wasn't uncommon to see your name on the Twitter trending page every once in a while. However, it had never been for something quite like this.

It was currently trending at #6, viewers going crazy over certain interactions that had happened during Quackity's stream.

Now, it wasn't uncommon for you to be on Quackity's streams, and it certainly wasn't uncommon for either of you to act the way you had acted during that night's stream. But something was obviously different this time around.

The trend was regarding a possible relationship between two content creators in the same community, and consisted of people freaking out over certain clips of that night's stream or other people bringing other clips from months prior explaining their theories on how this has been going on for months now.

It wasn't necessarily a bad thing, seeing the world associate you with Quackity in such a way. I mean, he was funny, and he was certainly attractive. But it didn't make it any less strange.

You had been scrolling through the trending hashtag, looking at the tweets and crazy theories some viewers had come up with, nervously biting at your nails, perhaps a laugh here and there at the tweets that were ridiculously far fetched.

That night's stream was like any other, a casual Jackbox stream with a few other content creators in the same friend group, a rather chill, yet chaotic, stream. It had started perfectly fine until halfway through, the jokes and verses shared didn't seem like jokes anymore, nor did they stop coming. It wasn't weird or uncommon for the viewers to witness you flirting with Quackity or vice versa. But it had never gone to this extent.

It was always a fair balance of "I hate you so much" mixed with flirty remarks here and there. That night's stream had just been nonstop flirting though. And at the moment it didn't seem too bad, it felt natural, you were comfortable behaving that way with Quackity.

After stream ended, everybody had said their goodbyes to each other and you'd gone to lay in bed to use your phone. Only to be slapped in the face with the fact that you and Alex were now trending because people were freaking out over the idea that you two might actually be dating or into each other.

How much of the bullshit you two were saying during the stream was actually real feelings and how much was for a bit? That was Twitter's current Hot Topic.

Watching the clips now made you realize how some were really out of pocket, and things that friends do not say to each other. Your hands moved on their own and soon enough, Bad was on the other end of the line, asking if you were okay.

"Bad," you breathed out after hearing his voice, "The people think Quackity and I are actually dating. Or into each other."

"Mm yeah, I saw on Twitter shortly after the stream ended.." He said, as you gently continued to bite at your nails.

"I.. rewatched the clips and I can kinda see why it was taken that way."

"I mean, it was just for a bit, no?"

"That's the thing."

".. What do you mean, Y/N?"

"It started off as a bit.. but lately it's been happening off stream too and.. I don't know. My feelings are all over the place and I'm just so confused."

Your small ramble was met with silence, Bad trying to do his best with this new information, and scrambling to look for supportive words that could help his friend.

"Oh–" He paused, before continuing, "Have you talked to him? Maybe try and see how he feels about it trending? Or just the fact that people think you guys are dating? His reaction could be telling of how he feels."

Bad's words were ringing against your temple. His suggestion was for you to straight up ask Quackity how he felt about being associated to you romantically. That sounded like an absolute nightmare.

After a few minutes and more reassuring words, the call ended and you felt this sense of courage wash over you. Bad had motivated you enough to feel like you were strong/brave enough to confront Quackity. Before anything could take place, you received a message from none other than Quackity.

Quackity Have you seen?

Y/N

Call me

It didn't take even a few seconds for your phone to start ringing.

"Y/N" He breathed out, it was obvious that this was affecting him as well. How, exactly? You weren't too sure. He could be bothered at the idea of dating, or maybe he was confused as well.

"They think we're dating." You said softly.

"They do."

There was silence for a bit before you spoke up again.

"And how do you feel about that?"

"I don't really mind it."

His words shocked you, but they came out with the same smoothness you had grown to like over the last few months. It was a tone he only used with you, whether it be during a stream where you two were bickering over stupid shit, or off stream just randomly talking and complimenting the other.

It was the tone he used late at night on call, the tone that sent shivers down your spine, interlacing and dripping down like honey, yet you'd shrug it off, claiming the AC was up too high.

After a moment, you finally respond.

"Yeah? How come?"

"They've thought that for several months now."

"But it doesn't bother you? They're shoving you into a relationship with your friend."

"Does it bother you?"

Silence again.

"No.."

"How come?"

"..don't know."

There was a small pause, you could hear your heart beating rapidly in your ears, scared of what he'd think at the small confession. But he didn't say anything, swiftly changing the topic instead.

"I watched the clips."

"Me too."

"I can see where they got those ideas from."

Silence. Before he continued.

"Y/N, there are clips that are months old. Just you and I flirting with each other. Me offering a kiss, you threatening to take my kiss privileges when I take a joke too far. You telling me to shut up, the random 'I miss you's and interactions on other people's streams, the way your voice softens when you join my late night streams just to talk to me.. so many different things."

As he talked, you couldn't help but close your eyes in- almost shame- nervously biting at your nails as multiple thoughts raced through your head, possible feelings that might have been buried in order to avoid any awkward confrontations. His listing continued and it only made you more anxious.

"I saw them. I saw, Quackity. I'm not fucking blind." Perhaps it came out harsher than you wanted, but he certainly wasn't helping.

His voice softened now, noticing the tone in your voice, but continuing to make his point. "And that doesn't even include the things we say off stream, Y/N."

There was silence ringing through the call once again. It was a moment for both of you to process everything that had been said so far. Try to decipher what it could possibly mean for the both of you.

"What does that mean, Alex?" Your voice no longer held that harsh tone to it, instead there was exhaustion. Having so many thoughts was draining.

"It could mean anything we want it to mean. I'm sorry for pushing all of this on you now, but twitter has just.. let's just say it's got me thinking."

His words made a small laugh escape your lips, and at the sound of your laugh, a small laugh left his lips as well.

"No, it's fine. I've been thinking about it too, and this conversation really helped clear up my confusion."

"What were you confused about?"

"My feelings. Y'know, towards you and stuff." The last part came out more as a mumble as you finally gave your nails a rest, letting your hand fall down onto your lap.

A small hum came from the phone's speaker, as if he was humming in agreement. "Then this cleared up my confusions as well."

Looking at the time, you realized that the two of you had been talking for a while now, and you were definitely feeling exhausted. He probably was too.

"Alex."

"Yes?"

"Thank you. I feel a huge weight was lifted off my shoulders. It was.. nice, talking about this with you."

"I should thank you as well, you really.. opened my eyes."

This earned him a small laugh from you, before you sleepily rubbed at your eyes that were now stinging a bit.

"Lets sleep on it, yeah? There doesn't need to be any.. labels, or anything of the sort. We can figure it out along the way." You suggested.

He didn't say anything for a bit before he let out a small sigh. "Yeah, sounds good. But now that I've sort of acknowledged these feelings I was repressing, I'd eventually like to act on them."

"Of course. I do, too. But I'm just saying.. we don't have to do anything about it now. Lets just get some rest, hm? You sound pretty tired."

You lay on your bed, getting comfy with your blankets, half your face smudged into the pillow, phone resting on the pillow, speaker loud enough for you to hear his response.

"I am pretty tired. Are you going to sleep, too?"

"I am."

"Then.. lets fall asleep on call."

This wasn't necessarily strange, or uncommon. It was just that neither of you had really ever said it out loud, it just happened when you two had talked too late into the night and one of you eventually fell asleep. You felt a warmth spread across your chest, nodding before realizing he couldn't see you.

"We could do that."

There was shuffling at the other end of the line, presumably Quackity getting into bed.

After that, you two continued conversation, small talk regarding whether he had eaten today and what he had done prior to the jackbox stream, until eventually the two of you fell asleep.

There didn't have to be any labels yet, or any announcement to the viewers. What mattered was that you and Alex were comfortable, and that you figured out what both of you wanted, and whether or not it was being together.

You were in it for the long haul, as a friend or as a lover, you didn't know, nor did it matter. All you knew was that as long as Alex Quackity was present, everything would be alright. No matter any labels or Twitter trends.

In fact, perhaps the Twitter trends weren't too bad. It had made you realize your feelings for your cute friend that was now sleeping, on call with you, who knows how many miles away. It was a heartwarming thought.

When it comes to Alex Quackity, it is impossible to not give in at some point. Give in to the possibility of love and friendship. At your own paces.

#alex quackity #quackity #quackity x you #quackity x reader #quackity x y/n #gender neutral reader #quackity brainrot #quackity scenario #help pls #streamer #quackity headcannons #quackity imagines #no labels