#i want like this as a pattern for clothing so bad.

[just-late-roman-republic-things]

Today I am thinking about weaving.

I can knit and crochet, but those crafts didn't exist in Roman times. Any historically accurate Roman cloth must be woven. So when a little potholder loom jumped into my shopping basket for 50 cents, it felt like a sign I should learn.

One potholder that was 50% yarn and 50% weird gaps later, I looked up a tutorial, and realized why the damn thing was 50 cents. I needed a better, more adaptable loom. And, because I am a cheapskate and slightly loony, I decided to make one instead of buying it.

So, how does this thing work?

First, you string the warp threads up and down, around the pegs. Here, I made a zigzag shape. Then, you use a needle or shuttle to weave more yarn over and under the warp, horizontally, back and forth. This produces woven fabric.

Some looms weave from the top, some from the bottom. This Greek urn shows two weavers working from the top. The left weaver uses a rod to compact the woven fabric upward, keeping it even and sturdy. The right weaver is passing an oval-shaped shuttle through the warp threads to form another row.

Most Roman looms would have looked like this, with the finished cloth at the top. Unlike my looms, these are warp-weighted. That means you keep the warp yarns taut by hanging weights at the bottom, rather than through a bottom row of pegs.

Warp-weighted looms also have a big advantage over my little potholder loom: you can easily create multiple sheds.

A "shed" is a temporary gap between lifted strands and non-lifted strands. Instead of having to go over and under each strand individually, you raise the entire shed, then pull the shuttle or needle straight through. This saves lots of time! Then, to weave the next row, you close the shed, lift up a different set of threads to create a new shed, and send the shuttle/needle through the other direction.

On a warp-weighted loom, the sheds are opened by loops called heddles (H), which are attached to a heddle rod (G). When the rod is down, shed (1) is open (middle diagram). When you pull the rod up, shed (1) closes and shed (2) opens instead (right diagram). Most warp-weighted looms also have a pair of forks you can rest the heddle rod on, to free your hands.

Here, there are three heddle rods and sets of forks, the heddles are white, and the warp thread is red. This gives you four different sheds, and the potential to weave very complex patterns indeed. Not bad for a device invented over 6500 years ago!

I liked the multiple heddle-rod design so much, I tried incorporating it into my DIY loom, too. I've tested both yarn and paperclips as heddles:

I actually got both sheds and heddle-rods working, too. Which is pretty cool for a lap loom - every other lap loom I found only has one shed, so you have to go over-under the individual threads on alternate rows.* More time-consuming. However, the sheds here are narrow, and I'll need a smaller and smoother shuttle to pass through them smoothly. This wouldn't be an issue on a warp-weighted loom, where the warp hangs freely downward, and can move more flexibly with the heddles.

Anyway. I may get a "real" loom at some point, but I wanted to build one first, and I think it gave me more appreciation for just how resourceful ancient weavers were. They created technology, clothing, and artwork out of very basic materials, and civilization depended on these skills.

Now, I need to go finish the...whatever the hell it will be. Big thanks to Wikipedia and to the lovely Youtubers who make this craft easier to learn. I think it'll be a lot of fun.

(*Edit - found out a rotating heddle bar can make two sheds on a lap loom! Exciting!!)

#jlrrt essays #weaving #textiles

[randomarttalent]

Pie's family redesigns + Family tree

Original posts, info and links down below

Maud "Slate" Pie + Mudbriar "Walnut"

Maud "Slate" Pie I've kept Maud mostly the same all over, her pallet and color scheme are already good in my taste. She now has spots to match Pinkie but also as a hint to her special talent, as I wanted it to look like an opened geode. I didn't like that her cutie mark was only just a rock, it didn't say a single thing about her special talent. Now it says a bit more, showing off that she can find true beauty under what others might just see as a rock.

She wears her normal dress, as I didn't see a reason to change it. I've however added a small bracelet, which has different beads, to represent her sisters. As she might not show or say it much but she loves them all dearly.

Mudbriar "Walnut" I've darkened his pallet a little, more so his overall design didn't end up too light or dark. I've given him cloven hooves and a long tail, as I see him from a family of mixed unicorn and earth ponies. His markings are like branches/roots of trees, showing his connection to the trees. Same story for his cutie mark as Maud's, it was too simple for what his special talent is. So I've added a book but it's standing by its opening, as a small hint to tents, as he travels to examine trees, learning about as many as he can and writing it down for others to read.

Mudbriar now wears a travel backpack, which is for his travels. He doesn't wear much else, as he doesn't see the need to.

Gilda "Glory" + "Shady" Limestone Pie

Gilda"Glory" I've darkened her whole pallet and added some markings. As she's a mountain lion + tiger in this AU. Her design hasn't been changed much, I've added some jewelry but not much else.

"Shady"Limestone Pie Limestone's pallet is mostly the same, its his patterns that darken his look. Lime is trans in my AU, as his anger issues were caused by him not feeling whole/as he should be. His cutie mark has been changed to a broken opened geode, with lime-green stone, which resembles a lime.

He has a few pricings and wears a his band's t-shirt, which says ROAD KILL, Gilda also has one but she mostly wears it to his concerts, showing her support.

 Trouble Shoes + Marble "Droplet" Pie

Trouble Shoes I've made Trouble Shoes slightly darker and added a few lighter strips to his mane and tail. He also now has a beard, which to those who don't know him, makes him look even more scary than before. For his cutie mark I wanted something more than just "bad luck". He of course still struggled to find out what he was meant to do, as he thought the clown nose and wig was some cruel joke the world did to him.

As for his clothing, I went with a nice jacket, kept his hat and his weeding ring.

Marble"Droplet"Pie Marble's pallet has mostly stayed the same, only receiving slight changes and the usual markings that come along with my redesigns. Her cutie mark now shows off how well she makes jewelry with the beautiful gems they find in Appleloosa. To me, her cutie mark never told a single thing about what she was to do, it said marble but what else? So now, she's a crystal collector and seller.

The clothing she wears is a simple shawl, her weeding ring, a few earrings, a few flowers from her middle oldest son, a sun anklet to represent her oldest son and a small bat wing hair tie to represent her youngest son. 

#mlp ng #mlp #randomarttalent #rat #all love no war #alnw #mlp art #mlp g4 #mlp next gen #my little pony #next generation #mlp fim #mlp redesign #friendship is magic #mlpfim #redesign #pinkie pie #cheese sandwich #marble pie #Trouble Shoes #limestone pie #Gilda #Maud Pie #mudbriar

[rosabienfuerte]

#mob psycho 100 #mp100 #shigeo kageyama #my art #traditional #traditional art #art #digitalized #mp100 fanart #traditional artist #doodles #repetition #theres so many of him #i want like this as a pattern for clothing so bad.

[alecz-obssesionz]

♦️HK GIJINKAS | HORNET & LACE ♠️

◇ + HORNET ALTs ◇

◇ Original Sketch Page ◇

#ok I know people tend to give Hornet more dynamic clothing for fighting bcs it makes sense but I'm a sucker for fancy puffy sleeves #anyway I love slapping rose patterns on everything so that adds up #UGHH I WANTED TO DIGITALIZE THEM BAD I JUST LOVE THEIR FITS AND WANTED TO POST GIJINKAS AGAIN #lacenet (((implied???? sorta they come as a package do not separate))) #I'm just still rlly ashamed and shy about my gijinkas in general #LIKE THEM GRIMM ONE WAS MY PEEK BUT I WOULD CHANGE ALL THE OTHER ONES #THE* #might to an extended version of this ref only to add the back of the jacket #Lace is Lace over-the top is her element #they kinda match like dance partners #omg they are partners #they're my favorite type of toxic yuri enemies to lovers #hollow knight #hk #alecz'makingz #alecz'gijinkas #hornet hk #lace hk silksong

[low-shear-velocity-province]

Yes yes, clothing has no gender, I know, I'm aware, but also when I'm trying to find crochet patterns and I click the box that says "men" then it probably means I want something with at least a little bit of a more masculine style to it!

#also if it was just the style it wouldn't be so bad but the fit is always so different #patterns designed for women almost always have narrower waists‚ shoulders‚ and arms #and have wider/lower necklines and more space across the chest and hips #I don't want that! I am shaped like a rectangle please just give me rectangular clothes #men are rectangles; women are non-euclidean #crochet

[running-in-the-dark]

I think I mentioned that I was looking into getting a better sewing machine? well, it arrived today 🙈 that happened much faster than planned. I found the model I was looking at at a (relatively) local sewing machine store, for 30% off because it had been in the shop window, so the plastic has yellowed.

I wasn't sure how I felt about that (the website only said it was a floor model or something similar, then someone from the store called and told me the specifics and asked if that was still okay), but honestly? I never ever would have paid the full price, it was just too much, I couldn't justify that. but this reduced price was only a little more than the ones I had been looking at before (that were not great quality and probably wouldn't last very long).

I am very particular about things like this but I'm trying to make myself accept that it really is not that bad. it actually looks kinda cool. I just have to get my brain to accept that it's not a flaw, it's just a completely superficial and insignificant thing that doesn't affect its function at all. it's good that this machine that works perfectly won't end up in a landfill just because it doesn't look brand new.

I only got to try it a little bit today because I wasn't feeling well but damn, the difference to my old machine is huge!! it's so much more fun and easy to use - I love having the needle threader and that it can automatically cut the yarn when you're done. and with the start/stop button it's actually really fun to wind bobbins!! I always hated that on my old machine.

I skimmed through the manual earlier (and put page markers in it so that I can easily find anything later) - it did seem somewhat overwhelming at first. I've never used or even seen (irl) a computerised sewing machine, so of course it did! but it already felt much more familiar after just using it a little bit today. I love it 🥰

(also, I think the fact that it doesn't look perfect and brand new actually helps - I'm not afraid to use it in case I 'ruin' it!)

#I really hope I'll use it a lot #I didn't use my old one much because it was just such a hassle. #mainly little things that didn't work right #and something as simple as the way you have to thread it not being labeled clearly on the machine itself #I've got memory issues and found that very annoying (and in the end I drew the instructions on with sharpie because it got so frustrating) #I've also bought a.. probably stupid amount of little sewing things that I've wanted for years. #and an iron (got the old one second hand for 5€ and it will not stop dripping). and a set of thread (I only had thread that was old and/or #really bad quality. I can only get about 5 colours locally AND it's pretty expensive. so a set made sense... 😬) #it's the same thing every time. I get (more) into a hobby. I buy every fucking thing. I do it all day every day until it stops being the #most interesting thing on earth. and then I pick it up again like once a year but always feel guilty for not doing it enough #annnnyway #I'm very excited about all of it right now #I'm hoping it'll last a while #I mean. I've been interested in sewing for over a decade. I just never had enough money to really get into it the way I'd like #so. I don't think it'll ever completely go away at least #I've bought a bunch of vintage sewing patterns on ebay and I'm really excited to try them #I'm thinking I'll do some baby clothes first - I don't know any babies at the moment but baby clothes are small and also very adorable #so even if I mess up they'd still look cute 😂 #and I wouldn't have wasted too much fabric haha #personal

[small-spark-of-light]

IT IS DONE!!

L’arc: God of war and battles, patron saint of all warriors Therese: Minor god of natural ores, jewels and jewelry Glass: Goddess of death and spirits/souls Kizuna: Goddess of the hunt, survival, and divine warrior who fights evil

#the rising of the shield hero #l'arc berg #therese alexandrite #glass #kizuna kazayama #god!au #l'arc and thereses designs are based on a mix of their worlds clothes and their melromarc world clothes #same with Glass i guess?? #i didnt like the blue Haori on L'arc so its gone :P but i did keep some blue!!! its in his armor and sash(if you can see it ;-;) #red spider lilies symbolize death so i thought it would fit with Glass being the goddess of death #and her kimono!!! #its tied right over left instead of what it should be(left over right) #Kimonos being tied Right over Left is reserved for the dead!! since she is basically DEATH it fits!!! #Kizunas clothes gave me issues :( im proud of them tho! its a combination of a warriors outfit and a priestesses outfit #i wanted to keep it frilly tho #the pattern on her Haori is called Kagome #its said to protect from demons and bad luck!! it fits her divine fighter job #all of the gods that relate to death/souls(Ren/Nao/Glass) have beads in some way! #Naofumi has prayer beads while Ren and Glass have decorative ones(and matching gold ropes) #that was coincidence XD #i am proud of Thereses clothes they are SO pretty!! her pattern is the one she has in official art!! #glass was originally going to have semi translucent skin!! #her bones were going to be slightly visible but i changed it since it didnt fit with the others(and i couldnt do it ;-; #rotsh #shield hero #sparks creations

[sol-draws-sometimes]

I hate that I like alternative fashion(not just the colloquial use of the word, as in anything alternative from mainstream), because I want to wear ALL of them.

Currently my two main styles are my everyday(pretty normie) gay ™ button downs/patterned shirts and my vintage/history inspired clothing(I don’t have as much as I’d like but when I had longer hair, a wet set and red lip went a long way).

But I also DO like alt™ fashion. I know all the cultures are different but I think goth and a little bit of punk are the ones that interest me the most! I just love the alt look of it on other people and I want to see if I like on myself! I just feel like I really don’t know where to begin for the goth stuff. Also yes ,I know the culture is more than the clothing and I’m also interested in those parts too, this post is just focusing on fashion.

I’m also interested in Lolita fashion! I don’t think it’s something I’d do for everyday fashion, but I always keep coming back to it, so I’d love to try it out! Mostly what attracts me to the style is that I already like historical fashion, but I don’t know if there’s a particular sub style I’m interested in. I like when other people do Sweet but doesn’t feel like my vibe. I could maybe see myself doing goth Lolita or more classic/traditional Lolita. Though really, in my mind there’s only one coord idea that I want to do, but it doesn’t really fall neatly into any of the mainstream Lolita styles(I guess pirate would be the closest? there are some JSKs I’ve looked at that could fit my idea).

I also really want to get more into medieval/renaissance fair fashion or more piratey/vampire/vaguely 17th century fashion. I have my vintage style that I want to expand but I do want to play around with more time periods and different ways of modernizing them!

I actually really like my current styles but there’s so much I want to try.

In conclusion I WANT TO UNLOCK ALL THE FASHIONS!!!!!

#sol talks #alt fashion #lolita fashion #history bounding #I’m this close to going to the lace market and buying a blouse #problem is I live in a hot climate but most of the blouses on there are polyester(which isn’t the best for my weather) #though I do find Lolita blouses really do hit the right spot for a modernized version of frilly old-timey clothes #if you’re curious about the coord idea basically I want to do a celistal pirate kinda vibe #I’d probably use AP Magical Horscope Navy as base or something in a similar vibe #or something like the Navy zipper Jsk from the Time Lag World(metamorphosis) #AP’s Astro Regimen could work too #I’m very baby to Lolita so idk how popular or good these JSKs are #I know people don’t like the newer AP stuff #just need a navy and gold jsk perferiably with celistal/metal pattern #but yah I think the idea has potential #the Jsk would need to pair nicely with a more pirate vibe so that I could wear a pirate hat as the headpiece #idk like a treasure plant inspired coord #but maybe that’s a bad coord idk #it feels too experimental and Idk if I have the best eye for styling coords #but regardless of whether or not I ever make a coord #I have to buy myself a blouse cause they’re PERFECT for all my historical/history bounding styles I want to do #might buy some black lipstick as well to experiment with more goth styles #anyways that’s enough rambling about fashion for one day

[yohankang]

i feel like reinventing my entire wardrobe....

#autumn comes and suddenly i'm not into crazy colorful patterns but into warm earth tones..... #i have a list of like. 9 clothing items i desperately need. by that i mean i don't really need them but i want them really bad. #i love looking more elegant in autumn.... #but i need to spend ¼ of my monthly pay on a train tickets next month lol so it's not the best time to buy clothes #k.txt

[waffled0g]

Everyone gets “The 90s” look wrong and I hate it

Couple years ago I saw these two board games at the store back to back. Well, not saw them per se, but ya know. Spied them out of the corner of my eye. And for a moment without reading the text, I couldn’t tell you which was which decade at first. Funny. Either they were in a rush to get these out the door or they wanted their throwback trivia game boxes to look uniform. I didn’t think too much of it.

Only, from then on I started seeing it MORE. Every time someone markets a 90s or 80s throwback...

Goddammit they’re identical! What??! How did we let this happen? As a 90s survivor and a designer, this drives me up a wall.

Look, I know I’m late to the party to complain about “the 90s look” when we’re just starting to get sick of the Y2K nostalgia train. But c’mon, the 90s were not The 80s: Part Two™ 

Trust me when I say that we weren’t all wearing neon trapezoids up until the year 2000. The 90s look being peddled is so specific to the tail end of the 80s and an early early part of the 90s - a part of the 90s when it wouldn’t stop being the 80s. This is Memphis design being conflated with the wrong decade.

Keep reading for a long ass graphic design history lesson and pictures of old soda and fast food.

Specifically, the look is Memphis Milano, self-named by the Italian design house Memphis Group. Starting in the early to mid 80s, they made all sorts of furniture, fabrics and sculptures that were like a Piet Mondrian grid painting under heavy radiation. Their whole deal was defying the standards of existing industrial design up to that point on purpose. Chairs had weird arches, bookcases would be in strange alien colors, unusual materials like plastic or elastic were used in place of metal or wood, that sorta thing.

Memphis quickly became the signature look for the decade. You can tell something’s influenced by Memphis design from it’s telltale trademarks:

Clashing, neon colors.

Use of diametric shapes.

Contrasting patterns like zebra print stripes, confetti squiggles and checkerboards.

It wasn’t long before Memphis Milano-inspired design was everywhere in 80s pop culture:

It was a special time, yes.

I was a kindergartener at the tail end of the 80s, so I knew Memphis mostly through the lens of kids media. Toys, clothes, games, tv shows used it like candy colored catnip. Cable channel Nickelodeon more or less adopted the Memphis aesthetic as their signature in-house style and practically built a monument to it at a Florida theme park:

I think this is why folks mistake what decade Memphis is representative of - 90s staples like Nick, Saved By The Bell, Fresh Prince - they all stayed around much longer than the design trend’s expiration date. 

Couple that notion with the fact that companies are slow followers to design trends. Something gets popular and they want to get on the bandwagon? Gotta wait for the ink to dry, gotta wait for the production molds to be made. It would take a few years for them to completely work Memphis outta their system.

Now, this is not to say Memphis is bad! Personally I’m a fan of the aesthetic, if my neon-drenched artwork wasn’t a tip-off already. But it is a trend, and trends never last forever.

So what took the Memphis Milano look down for good? This part’s up for debate, but I personally think it had something to do with this dude:

It’s that grunge music from Seattle that’s so popular with the kids these days dontchaknow.

Once Smells Like Teen Spirit hit in 1991, the Nirvana tone drove the rest of the decade. Clean geometry became weathered, grainy and organic. Bright neon pastels became more bold. Bubblegum pop music sounded fake and manufactured. Attitude and apathy was authentic. Whatever.

Things got grungy. Things got grimy. Olestra was invented.

I think the best way to visualize this transition is how Cherry Coke entered the decade and how it left it:

1992 Memphis on the left, 1998 grunge junkie on the right. Fitting that the 90s would end with a design that looked like Darth Maul’s lungs.

Okay, so what should 90s retro design look like?

Continue on to PART TWO! Spoilers: No VHS filters or vaporwave needed, but maybe bring an antacid.

#90s #1990s #memphis milano #grunge #everything you know is wrong #y2k

[13atoms]

Handsome and a Genius (Spencer Reid x F!Bau!Reader)

Inspired by that one scene in x files where mulder stands like a himbo looking handsome and being the future of beauty. you know the one I mean

Summary: Spencer’s overactive brain draws more attention than it ought to on a case, and you see him in a new light. 3k words.

Contains: hostile witnesses, spencer being clueless (but an absolute babe), friends to lovers. (No offence to Florida im sure it’s very nice, reader is having a bad day, and I am far too British for that kind of heat)

The sticky Florida air had long since plastered your clothes to your skin, leaving you short of breath and with the unpleasant feeling of damp hair against your scalp. The whole team had groaned at the revelation their next case would be in the outskirts of Miami, and as soon as the plane door opened you understood why.

You were hot, and grumpy. The salty, swampy air made you feel disgusting as you approached witness after witness. There was a serial killer operating in and around mobile home parks in the area, with the two most recent murders taking place in Royal Biscayne Trailer Park, both over a week ago. While the rest the team spread out across the other crime scenes, you and your partner had been dispatched to this one.

It was a world away from Quantico: sun-bleached, dense, full of plastic and palms instead of concrete and maples. Nonetheless, the principles remained the same no matter where you were. Take everything in, speak to everyone, suspect everyone. Stepping in and out of trailers gave you very little relief from the heat, although respite from the sun pounding down on you was a welcome break.

Dr Spencer Reid stood a short distance away, shielding his eyes with his hand as he contemplated the sea of trailers around him. He’d stared around as you drove into the park, something faraway in his eyes as he memorised every detail from the safety of the SUV.

Now he stood close to you, heads inches apart as he whispered so that only you could hear. He faced one way, you the other, and you could focus on his words knowing that Spencer was watching your back.

“These things all come equipped with the same locks, at least each model does. If you recognise the trailer home, you know how to pick it. It’s fairly trivial, for someone with some basic industry knowledge.”

You hummed through pursed lips, surveying the small crowd who had gathered to gawk at a pair of FBI officers on their turf.

“And that would be true of all of the trailer parks… we know he’s got a common MO.”

“Exactly.”

“You reckon someone in the industry, then? A salesman? Maintenance guy?”

Spencer rolled his neck, stared up at the sky for a moment. His curls were long at the moment, damp at the name of his neck, a little frizzy in the humidity.

“Not necessarily.”

“It’s quite specific,” you agreed, “anyone operating as a common thief around here would have the knowledge too. We could be talking about a classic escalation – burglar to home invader to murderer?”

His eyes snapped from you to his phone.

“I’ve asked Garcia to check out any patterns in robberies, home invasions… the locks are hardly scratched. We know he wears gloves, cleans his tools. This guy knows what he’s doing.”

You nodded, surveying the street again. The sun was glinting off of white plastic, making you squint. You worried for Spencer, the heat and the light wouldn’t be doing his headaches any good.

“You want me to take that?” Spencer was saying, and you snapped your attention in the direction he was gestured.

There was middle-aged man a little way forward of the crowd, shoulders hunched, hands entwined. Nervous. He had the tan of someone who lived here year-round, not a big believer in suncream, with tanlines when he removed his hat and glasses to speak to you.

“I’ve got it,” you murmured, and Spencer nodded.

It was an unspoken part of your partnership, that Spencer liked when you started conversations with witnesses. You liked that he trusted you, trusted your skills, never questioned whether you’d done the right thing when you spoke to people.

Instead he remained a short distance away, climbing up the front steps of someone’s home for a higher vantage point to survey the place.

“Hello, sir. Can I help you?”

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you. You said you’re with the FBI?”

The man had a tip, and it was an interesting one. A rumour spread throughout the HOA about someone trying the locks at night, the sound of metal against the doorways, silhouettes against frosted glass. A few people even had security camera footage, though nothing identifiable. It was great. You gave him your card, told him to get the footage to you asap.

It must be terrifying, you realised, to hear that kind of noise in the night. To be so close to danger, after a neighbour had been killed. The local sheriff’s department seemed frustrated by the interest the case was garnering – frankly you were amazed the story wasn’t bigger. There was no small amount of comforting involved in the conversation you had with the witness, and soon enough a few more people stepped forwards from the crowd. All seemed middle-aged, likely transplants to the sunshine state, and equally shaken.

When everyone’s stories had finished, they stood in silence for a moment. You frowned, noticing their gazes slightly misaligned.

Spencer.

He was stood at your shoulder, sharp gaze flickering across each face of the gathered residents.

“This is my colleague, Dr Reid. A few of you have already met, I believe.”

“You know,” he began, “the socio-economic factors influencing the way we think about crime in mobile home communities are fascinating. Often trailer parks are stereotyped negatively in the media, and because they are generally cheaper to live in than traditional housing estates, and that can foster a sense of shame or isolation for residents. Transient populations can also make community policing and security difficult, and anomalies in the patterns of everyday life become more difficult for people to subconsciously spot.”

You held your breath, and tried not to look worried at the reaction of the small crowd. Instead, you focused on Spencer. He was speaking with his hands a lot today.

“But I think the assumptions we tend to make about trailer parks completely overlook the very nature of living so close to your neighbours. There is a sense of community in living so closely, as evidenced by the conversations we’ve been having today. I’m not sure whether the killer understands that, or is exploiting the former theory that places like this allow for more deviations from the way we implement traditional security in communities. An unsub might hold some sort of resentment towards trailer parks, or some specific resident in his past, or perhaps he’s simply exploiting how incredibly easy it is to simply walk up to a mobile home and slip the lock open with a humble mass-produced lock pick.”

He was greeted with a sea of blank faces, littered with the occasional frown. Finally he looked to you. You caught the furrow of his brow, the way his shoulders hunched into himself, the clutching of his elbows to his body.

Oh, Spencer.

“That’s really interesting!” you tried to say, but Spencer was already backing away.

“Anyway, I’ll, um, leave you to it.”

“Thank you, Dr Reid,” you called after him, as he fled, disappearing into the shade of a nearby trailer.

 Your heart ached for him a bit, but you pushed that aside. Instead, you had a sea of potentially offended retirees to keep on side.

“God, what I’d give for a brain like that,” your witness laughed, his linen shirt straining under the movement.

You couldn’t help smiling, a little relieved the tension had broken.

“It’s not often someone has a face like that and a good head on their shoulders,” one of the older ladies piped up.

You found yourself looking over your shoulder at Spencer, his profile sharp as he looked down the road, deep in thought.

“He’s certainly a rare breed,” you agreed fondly.

A number of the crowd were following your gaze, and someone in you wanted to snap them out of it. Stop them from staring.

“He actually has an eidetic memory. Once he’s seen or heard something, he remembers it perfectly, forever. It’s incredible.”

“Oh, my goodness! I can hardly remember my own email password!”

“I wouldn’t mind if he hung around me and talked like that all day, even if I didn’t understand a word of it. Though perhaps he could use a haircut…”

There was a chorus of agreement and various coo-ing which seemed to occupy the entire scale from grandmotherly to entirely inappropriate. You couldn’t help staring at Spencer a moment longer, wondering if he was truly oblivious, or simply pretending to be.

A rare breed.

You were certain you’d never met anyone else like him. Certain you felt like a better version of yourself in his company. That you’d trust him with your life, that you searched every room you entered until you saw him. Watched the elevator doors each time they opened, all morning, until Spencer walked in.

You were certain you’d felt giddy the first time Spencer insisted the two of you would work together, alone.

 “Imagine knowing that he’d remember everything, forever…” one of the women was saying, her eyebrows raised in a way you didn’t particularly enjoy.

You cleared your throat, and hooked one hand over the badge at your waist.

“Unless anyone has any further leads, we’d better be on our way…”

The group silenced, and watched you dutifully. You passed out a few more cards, reiterated how dedicated the team was to stopping this killer, and gave out a few promises that there would be a police presence after dark throughout the trailer park.

When the request for any further questions was met with more glances towards Spencer, you thanked your witness, and made a beeline for the car. After only a few seconds Spencer was beside you, jogging to catch up.

“All done?” he asked, and you smiled at the question.

“I think so.”

You started the engine and both waited with the doors open for the car to cool down. The department’s penchant for black SUVs was not helpful when the sun was so vicious. Feeling the heat themselves, the group of residents had dispersed into a few groups, wandering into one another’s homes to continue gossiping.

“God, I’m disgusting,” you lamented, “sorry for the sweat-smell. I might actually take a cold shower when we get to the hotel.”

Spencer was already waving you off, leaning into the car to mess with the AC. Through the open door you saw him groan at the heat, swiping a curl from his face.

“I’m afraid to raise my arms. It’s so humid, I’m not sure why anyone would retire here. High humidity aggravates a number of chronic conditions, especially respiratory ones, which are common in older people. Not to mention the skin cancer…”

“And it ruins your hair,” you teased.

Spencer faked a gasp, and reached for a damp, limp section of his hair.

“I mean, look at it!”

You laughed, and rolled your eyes at him, nothing but fondness settling warm and tight in your chest.

Surveying the road in front of you for one final time you saw a few curtain-twitchers, but no new faces. You climbed into the car, wincing at the heat. The seatbelt buckle was burning hot, and you swore as it burned your fingers.

“I always forget about that,” you grumbled, slamming the car door closed.

“You know, if you fasten your seatbelt after you get out, it stops the metal getting hot and burning you,” Reid offered, and you rolled your eyes at him again.

“Gosh, doesn’t it get exhausting being right about everything?”

Spencer went quiet, and all you heard was the click of his own belt. After a few moments the car was cool and bearable, and your lungs felt like they could finally move again. The sat-nav happily talked away, and you started stealing worried looks at your partner once you’d returned to properly-maintained roads.

“What you said out there was really good, do you mind if we go over it again once we get to the station? I think it’s worth exploring.”

“I shouldn’t have said it in front of them.”

He was right, but you didn’t have to heart to say anything. That was the thing which made your heart twinge about Spencer – he was so insecure, and yet so self-aware, it was the worst of both worlds. Being an expert in body language was a double-edged sword.

“I don’t think they minded. Did you hear those old ladies talking about your big brain?”

Spencer didn’t laugh. He turned himself towards the window, curled up with his hand beneath his jaw.

“They were very impressed. So was I, for what it’s worth. I think we’ll make some really good progress on this profile tonight.”

He hummed agreement. Watched a vista of blurred blue and green and white going past the window. The radio was turned down to a low hum, you could hardly hear it. Silence pierced its way through and sound of mumbled songs and road noise.

“Are you okay?” you asked finally.

“I’m okay.”

You sighed. Tapped the steering wheel. Sped a little to get through an intersection on amber.

 “Spencer…”

“I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to ruin that for you I just… sometimes I think of things and it’s like I have to tell you.

“Spencer I’m not mad at you! Not at all! I think we’re both just tired, and too warm…”

He didn’t say anything.

“Honestly, I was worried you’d heard what those ladies were saying about you and gotten upset. It was inappropriate of them…”

“I didn’t hear anything. What did they say?”

Your gaze was focused on the road, but you met Spencer’s eye in the rear-view mirror as he watched your face.

“Just that you were a handsome young man. And that they wanted you to get a haircut, which I firmly disagree with…” you teased.

Spencer touched his hair self-consciously. He was still quite curled up, leaning away from you despite his interest in the conversation.

“That’s nice of them, I suppose.”

“‘Nice’ is an interesting way of putting it, but I’m glad you’re not upset about it.”

“When I was a kid, I read a book at the library about how to tell if you’re attractive. It was for women, all about makeup and stuff, but there was a section about what made guys hot. I could never figure it out, I just always thought I looked like an alien.”

The sudden change made you sit up straight, heart in your mouth as you rolled to a stop behind a queue of traffic.

“I think everyone feels like that sometimes. Being a teenager is really hard.”

 “I… yeah. I suppose so.”

“I always felt so jealous of the people who walked around looking perfect every day, confident that they were not. It just never came naturally to me.”

“Really? I assumed you were one of those girls in school who I’d be too afraid to talk to.”

You scoffed, and for a moment were struck by how little you really knew about one another. The way Spencer looked at you, looked it everyone, it felt as though he had an x-ray into every tiny detail of your life. How could he know, though?

“Of course not,” you laughed nervously.

You weren’t sure if you’d prefer Spencer knew the truth, or kept believing whatever he’d made up ini his head. You weren’t sure what any of this conversation meant. Traffic was moving. The precinct was two turns away.

“I’m not sure I believe you.”

He was teasing you. Finally he leant back in his seat, shoulders square to it, legs stretched out in the passenger footwell.

“Either way, I’m glad you can talk to me now. I’d miss it if you didn’t.”

“You might be the only person on this planet with that opinion.”

You took a moment to glance across the car at him, and caught a flash of a smile. He was joking. You released tension from your shoulders you hadn’t realised you were holding.

“I’m sure that’s not true. You’re a handsome genius, just like Barbara said.”

“Her name was Barbara?” Reid laughed.

You shrugged, and took the final turn into the precinct parking lot.

“I’ve got no idea.”

Even with the SUV in park, the aircon no longer blasting away, neither of you moved. Not for a moment, at least. A moment of peace before the chaos all began again. Just the two of you. Wherever you were, with Spencer was your favourite place to be.

“You’re the same, you know. A genius. And handsome…”

You frowned.

“Pretty! Beautiful. You know what I mean.”

“Handsome?”

In truth, you didn’t care about the words. Not at all. Not when your heart was pounding at the realisation Spencer had his gaze fixed on your lips, his eyes soft and pupils blown wide.

“Beautiful,” Spencer repeated, “You know, in a lot of languages, handsome can be translated for men and women. The word itself doesn’t have a gender. Guapa, for example, in Spanish…”

You let him talk, on and on. You decided you wouldn’t kiss him yet, while your hair was matted in sweat and Spencer’s face was brushed with sunburn and embarrassment.

“Bella is more popular in South America, though, or bonita. My favourite is Japanese, though. Kirei. To be beautiful both inside and out…”

Only a few more moments passed before Morgan arrived and banged on the glass with a wide grin and a sweat-beaded brow, announcing a break in the case. You were sorry for the interruption.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #fluff #fic #13atoms #im so sorry if this is ooc

[polakina]

que maravilla, que bonita

pairing: miguel o'hara x reader

rating: explicit

outline: too busy with keeping everything and everyone in order, Miguel had neglected the person closest to him, and decided to show you how sorry he was

warnings: smut, fluff, oral (fem recieving), squirting, rough sex, you get fucked on the desk, fingering, blood, biting, scratching, blood kink

requests are open! hope you enjoy, petals <3

masterlist

II

A bad temper was an understatement for this man. Since Miles had come and thrown a wrench in Miguel’s life, it had been harder on everyone. You, not so much. But when Miguel came home every night, you could see it was taking a toll on him. Watching the kid, making sure Miles didn’t fuck anything up. Preserving the timeline and canon events made him frustrated, irritated. You wanted to help, but could not think of the right approach. 

He was sat at the desk, mumbling to himself incoherently. You walked up behind him, placing your hands on his shoulders. He tensed up almost immediately, not realising you were even there. The lack of spidey sense really messed with him sometimes.

“Mi corazon,” he grumbled, turning his head slightly towards you, placing a hand over yours and allowing his body to relax. “You’re up late. What are you doing here?” He spun his seat around and you stood between his legs, his hands resting on your waist, drifting down to your thighs.

“You’ve been busy working. I missed you, that’s all,” you whispered, looking down as his thumbs circled patterns into your skin. “Wanted to make sure you were alright.”

He sighed, knowing he’d been neglectful these past few days. He pulled you closer, resting his head on your stomach. “Lo siento, mi amor.” He looked up at you with red eyes, a flicker of brown still amongst them. You just smiled down, shaking your head.

“It’s alright, Miguel,” you assured, running your hands through his hair, along the back of his neck. You kissed the top of his head, and his arms wrapped tighter around you, pulling you closer into his body.

Before you knew it, he had lifted you up in one swift movement. You instinctively wrapped your legs around him as he kicked the chair out of the way and set you on the desk gently. “What are you doing?” You asked, speaking nothing above a whisper. He did not speak at first, caressing your cheek, before slowly letting his hand fall to your shoulder, pushing the strap of your shirt down your arm.

“I have neglected you too long, my love,” he said, his fingers drifting down your sternum slowly, feeling your heart race a little faster with each subtle movement. “I must make up for lost time, should I not?” He looked down at you, a glint of mischief in his eye. His nails were like claws, dragging down your clothes and seamlessly splitting them in two, letting the fabric fall to the floor below. He took you in with his eyes, irises flashing red and brown and everything in between. “Que maravilla. Que bonita.”

He knelt before you, kissing your lower abdomen while looking up at you with lustful eyes. Then he dove in, gently at first. His tongue dragging along your pussy slowly, mouth watering at your taste he had craved for so long. Retracting his talons as to not injure you, he wrapped his hands around your thighs, caging his head between them. 

Your head fell back, your mouth dropping open as you felt him grow more forceful, more passionate. You let yourself lie back against the cool glass of the desk, back arching from the magic he was working between your legs. He sucked and licked your clit, sending shockwaves through your entire body.

“Miguel,” you breathed, back arching as he teased your clit.

“Sí, amor?” He smiled coyly, looking back up at you with wicked intent. “What is it?” He rested his cheek against your inner thigh, his finger teasing your slit and making you shudder.

“Please,” you whimpered. “I need you. Now.”

But he didn’t move. He just smirked. “No, honey. I’m taking my time with you. Don’t want your enjoyment ending too quickly now, do we? We both know I don’t falter like that.” His fingers travelled south towards your dripping entrance, teasing lightly before pushing one of his fingers inside you. You gasped softly at how just his finger could fill you, God only knows how you’d handle his dick.

He put his mouth back to work, simultaneously pleasuring you with his fingers to draw you to your inevitable high. You loved that it always felt the exact same. Just as perfect, just as mind bending and toe curling as every time before. Your mind went foggy and your eyes rolled back as you melted into his touch. 

Your hand wrapped through his hair, gripping him tightly as a second finger pumped in and out of your dripping hole. Your wetness smeared the glass you were laid on, staining the translucent surface.

Miguel could feel you getting close. He didn’t need spidey senses to know that. Your shortness in breath, your grip on his hair growing ever so tight, your legs tensing around him, you were on the edge. Just where he liked you to be.

Feeling your legs begin to shake, and your body tense, you were on the precipice of a feeling only Miguel could ever give you. You moaned out his name, his name continuously falling from your lips as you felt your stomach coil in the most incredible way possible. Until he stopped, removing his fingers from you and standing up straight. Your head lifted off the table, hair strewn across your face and eyes slightly glossed over. “What-what are you doing?”

He smirked, his hands moving to his belt, swiftly unbuckling it in an easy motion. He hadn’t even bothered to wipe the glistening residue of you from his chin. “You think I’m just using my fingers on you, mi vida? You know me better than that,” he wrapped a hand around your waist and pulled you to your feet, spinning you around so that the fronts of your thighs were pressed against the desk. “And I’ve missed you. And I know you’ve missed me,” his hand pushed gently on your lower back until you bent over for him slightly. You felt him press up behind you, your breath faltering as you felt his cock brush against your ass. “You’re frustrated from me being distant, and I’m frustrated with all this work. But…fuck,” he teased the tip of his cock into your dripping pussy, words failing him as he realised how much he had missed this. “We both need this. I need you.”

You nodded and moaned loudly as he pushed in further, filling you up entirely. He felt so good inside you that your head started to spin. You gripped the edge of the desk, holding yourself up with the strength you had left while he gripped onto your waist. Starting slow, Miguel tried to control himself and his urges as he fucked you softly, watching as his cock moved in and out of you. But the sounds of your moans and the way you were calling out his name in your soft voice made him want to pound you into this desk until the glass shattered.

Feeling his thrusts begin to quicken, pushing harder and faster into you, you felt your high coming all too quickly. The desk shook with Miguel’s force, and if not for him gripping your waist to keep you still, you would have been launched over this desk in a matter of seconds.

Miguel gritted his teeth, the pleasure he felt of your pussy tightening around his dick, your juices flooding him as he pounded in and out of you. He began to lose control, his fangs slipping out, his talons protruding and pushing against your skin. Blood was drawn and you hissed, but it didn’t feel nearly as bad as you expected. It actually felt kind of good. But he slowed his movements for a moment, realising his talons cut into your skin and immediately retracted them. “Mierda,” he cursed. “I’m sorry, mi amor.”

You shook your head, craving that feeling once more. “No, don’t apologise, Miguel. And don’t put your talons away, or your fangs,” you breathed out, pushing yourself back against him. His eyebrows raised in surprise, but he smiled, his fangs showing and his talons sharp and long as they dug back into your skin. He thrusted into you once more, hard, passionate. You felt the sting as they penetrated your skin, blood dripping down your thighs to the floor. You let your body fall against the glass, breasts pressing against the desk as the cool surface felt so nice against your warm skin. 

But you didnt stay pressed against the glass for long, as Miguel’s hand wrapped in your hair, gently, but firmly. You pushed yourself up with your hands, and he held you hair, tilting your head to the sky, feeling his breath on your neck. “Darling, if I’d have known you wanted me to use my talons, I would have started this a long time ago,” he grinned, kissing your shoulder, the tips of his fangs brushing against your skin.

He continued to fuck you hard, your nails pressing hard against the glass as you cried out in a mixture of pleasure and pain. His fangs continued to graze your shoulder as he gritted his teeth. You mustered up all strength for words to come out of your mouth. 

“Miguel, mi amor,” you breathed out. His ears perked as he listened. “I didn’t say you should use just your talons.”

Then something switched inside Miguel. It’s as though he almost went feral. His hand gripped your hair tighter, almost to the point it was painful. But you saw it through, a knot tightening within you, sure to snap at any moment. Miguel panted in your ear, it almost sounded as though he was growling. An animalistic urge took over him. 

His thrusts slowed to a steady pace, but they were more powerful, hitting deeper inside you than before. Your mouth fell open and all you could do was moan his name to the open empty room, your voice echoing off the walls. You felt his fangs dig into the skin of your shoulder, digging deeper and deeper until they drew blood. You felt the warm liquid run down your chest and your back, but you never stopped him. His grip loosened on your hair and you could look down to see the bite in your shoulder, and the accumulation of blood that had stained your naked body. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on a little.

“Come on, bonita,” Miguel groaned in your ear. “I know you’re close. Come for me, baby.” And you were close. So close. Your fingers curled into a fist as you clenched it tight, nails digging into your palms.

“Fuck, Miguel,” you breathed quietly, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you felt yourself clench around his cock. The knot within you tightened mroe and more until you felt a sharp snap inside your abdomen. But it felt different to the previous times, a different sensation taking over you. It grew even stronger when Miguel’s free hand wrapped around the front of you, toying with your clit, circling it in just the perfect motion to send you over the edge, practically screaming his name. He didn’t let up with his fingers, continuing to play with your pussy while still fucking you from behind, just as forcefully as he had been the whole time. The man had stamina like you’d never seen, and sometimes you could barely keep up. 

Your orgasm washed over you, powerfully overtaking your body, igniting flames in your veins until your vision blurred. But something else washed over you too. It felt strange, nothing you’d felt before. You cried out, entirely overwhelmed in pleasure as liquid hit the table, gushing out in a spray. It took you a moment to realise where they came from.

Miguel’s orgasm came not moments later after yours, coating your insides, leaking out of your pussy and dripping down his cock. He panted heavily, resting his forehead on your shoulder and wrapping his arm around your waist, his hand soaked from you. “I didn’t know you could do that, mi amor,” he chuckled, kissing your neck softly.

Your eyes were wide once you realised what you’d done. “Neither did I, love. Neither did I.” He could tell by the tone of your voice that you seemed slightly embarrassed of yourself, noting the rosiness of your cheeks and the heated flush on your ears. It was something he’d picked up over the years, mentally noting your tells.

“It’s fine, darling. It’s actually pretty amazing,” he smiled against your neck. “I definitely want to see you do it again.”

You turned to face him, leaning against the desk and feeling how wet the glass actually was as it touched your thighs. “Well, use your talons and fangs again, and you just might.” You leaned up, kissing him softly and his hand cradled your cheek, the other on your waist, holding you close. 

“Round two?” He whispered, smirking as he pressed his forehead against yours.

You could only laugh. “As long as it’s somewhere dryer.”

“Deal.”

#miguel o'hara #spiderman #blue panther #atsv x reader #atsv #atsv miguel #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x reader #spiderman x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #smut #fluff #fanfiction #spiderman fanfic #spiderman fanfiction #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel ohara fanfic #miguel ohara smut #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara fanfic #miguel o'hara smut

[rogueddie]

Eddie couldn't take his eyes off of the ugliest, evil looking polo top that he's ever had the misfortune to lay his eyes upon. It's everything he hates in one piece of clothing, so horrible that he'd gagged at it when he'd first seen it.

His friends had laughed, agreeing that the top is an abomination and crime against humanity.

But Eddie couldn't stop looking at it.

It's the exact type of thing that Steve would wear. It's the type of thing he would love and brag about.

Even though the party, with the help of Robin, have been trying to 'fix' Steve and his taste. They're currently targetting his wardrobe and they're almost wearing him down enough to get him to stop wearing so many polos.

It's making Eddie feel... conflicted.

He agrees that Steves taste is horrible. He listens to bad pop music most of the time, he has no sense of fashion and loves romance so much that he thinks awful rom-coms are the height of cinema.

But it's Steve. Those things are what make him so... Steve.

He sneaks back to the top when his friends aren't looking, crouching behind racks to get to the till and quickly buy it. He buries it in the bottom of his bag, ignoring the bored and judgemental look the staff are giving him.

"There you are," Gareth squints at him when he rejoins them. "Where did you go?"

"Fainted," he sneers, throwing an arm around Jeffs shoulders. "All these neons and pop are making me dizzy."

They laugh, quickly moving on.

After dropping them off, he goes straight to Steves house. He doesn't want the ugly shirt on his person longer than necessary and the last thing he needs is someone finding it in his closet.

He nearly cheers when he pulls up to Steves house and his parents car isn't parked out front.

They'd only caught him in their house once, when they'd come home early, and he's sure he only escaped with his life because the entire party was there too.

"Eddie?" Steve frowns when he opens the door. "What are you doing here? Are you ok?"

"Yeah, fine, just..." he huffs, rubbing his eyes. He digs through the bag, grabbing the offending shirt, and throwing it at Steve. "Got you that. I thought- whatever. There. Good night."

"Woah, woah," Steve quickly catches his arm. "It's ok, man. If the others ask then I'll say I got it. It's... this is really nice, Eds."

"It's ugly."

"Sure," Steve snorts, looking back to the shirt. "But it's definitely my style. This really means a lot to me. I think it looks cool."

"Uh, yeah, I guessed," Eddie shifts, squirming with how genuine Steve is being. "It's just a polo."

"No, it's not. It's special to me."

"Right, because you think that pattern is 'so-"

"You saw it and thought of me. Like, you hate it, but you knew I'd like it and... it just means a lot to me, that you're thinking of me."

"Alright, it's just a shirt, calm down."

"No, I don't think I will," Steve gently tugs him inside so he can shut the door. "I get it if this is difficult for you but I'm getting impatient."

"If- what?"

"Do you need me to make the first move? Or- is this a move? Is your love language gift giving or something?"

"You've lost me."

Steve huffs, putting his hands on his hips and giving Eddie a look that he can only describe as 'disappointed parent'.

"We've been flirting for months and you haven't done anything about it." Steve falters quickly when he sees the shock on Eddies face. "Or... am I missing something? Is it the whole, like... keeping it secret thing? Because I don't mind! It's not safe to be out in Hawkins, I know, and I'm not expecting a big date at-"

"You knew that I was flirting with you," Eddie interrupts. "This whole time?"

"Well, yeah, I was also flirting with you."

Eddie stares at him for a moment. "And you've been waiting for me to make a move on you?"

"Exactly. Was I not being obvious enough? I didn't want to out you or anything..."

"No... in retrospect you were being very clear. All of Robins cryptic advice makes so much sense now. Oh, God, even Wayne figured it out."

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #ficlet #alittlelaughtime

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Bolinus brandaris [S. R]

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

word count: 1.6k

and by public demand, part. 2

summary: Reid loves the gift you just gave him and the whole team can notice.

"Everyone ready to go back?" Gideon asked, taking a quick look at the jet to make sure all of you were there. You had an extortion case quite far from home, Miami to be exact, and you had a long flight back to Quantico, so the last thing he wanted was to forget someone.

Miami was a beautiful place that you would have liked to visit in other circumstances, that had nothing to do with crimes at all, since you had always felt a certain weakness for the warm climate, the sticky breeze, and the sound of the waves that were on the beach.

You had only had the chance to go to a mall to buy a new outfit, because yours had been completely ruined, while Morgan took advantage of the wait to buy an ice cream popsicle. It hadn't been a dream ride, but it was something at least.

“I feel like I could sleep for 90 hours straight,” you sighed, closing your eyes and falling into Spencer's side as usual. You two were the youngest, he was younger than you of course, so it was easier to connect with him than the other members of the team. You seemed to have similar interests and he was strangely comfortable with you.

“You would actually need to wake up periodically to expel fluids or you would risk bursting your bladder or even your bowels, because even though your digestive system shuts down when you sleep it only does so for a certain number of hours. Maybe you could sleep for 14 or 17 hours, which is what a baby sleeps, but 90 seems excessive to me even if you do not consume drinks or food before doing so”

"It's an expression, Reid" you laughed, but without the intention of making him feel bad for having answered you that way. Sometimes it was necessary to explain to him that you weren't being serious, as obvious as this seemed.

"You can sleep through the whole trip" he argued and although you still had your eyes closed you assumed that he had shrugged "I'll wake you up if you start snoring"

"I don't snore!" you defended yourself, playfully smacking him on the arm and hearing him laugh. Somehow watching him led you to remember a chain of events ending in the package you had carefully stowed in your bag and you almost jumped out of your seat the next second: "Wait, I just remembered something" you reported and went to the baggage area to rummage through your suitcase, taking just a few minutes to be back in your seat “I bought you this”

"Me?" he asked in disbelief. The others were on their own business enough to notice your conversation, making the moment a bit more private.

“I looked at it and just thought of you. Although I don't know if you're going to like it” you said shyly, handing him something wrapped in a paper bag with a store sticker on it. You had found the gift when you went shopping for your clean outfit and a part of you had been anxious all day to be able to give it to him to watch his reaction.

Reid looked at it curiously and handled it carefully, as if he were afraid it would fall apart in his fingers, until he managed to open it and took a piece of cloth from it.

"A scarf?"

“I saw you in one the other day and I thought you might like them. You know, you always wear your vests under your coats and your ties and you're always overdressed, but in a cute way” you laughed, while you pointed your hands at your body pretending to touch the pieces of his outfit "But it's okay if you don't want to wear it"

"No! I mean yes. I want to use it” he reassured you. Spencer held it out to look at it more carefully: it was purple, a stripe in the middle of patterned colored rhombuses intertwined with some embroidery of branches with leaves in black. "Did you know that the color purple is related to royalty because of how difficult it was to obtain the pigment before the Christian era? It is obvious that artificial dyes didn’t exist at that time, so everything they dyed the fabrics with had to be obtained from nature and that particular tone was quite difficult to obtain because it came from Bolinus brandaris, an extremely rare species of sea snail. To obtain 1 gram of this substance it is necessary to have 10,000 snails. And that gram was barely enough to dye a small piece. Its value and the difficulty in mass-producing it is due to the fact that the substance obtained had to be left to dry in the sun for a very precise time to be used later. Half a kilo of wool dyed in that color cost what would now be equivalent to around 300,000 euros,” he said, still holding the scarf as he rambled on. "It is also related to liturgical attire, it symbolizes power, wisdom, and is the perfect combination between the energy of red and the calm of blue”

“Oh yeah, I… I knew all that before I bought it, I didn't choose it just because I think purple brings out your eyes” you blatantly lied, making your friend laugh tenderly.

“What I meant to say is that I like it” he added, a little embarrassed by the smile and attention with which you had been observing him. You always did that when he wandered off, leaving him helpless and not knowing how to react.

"You said it has to do with wisdom, right?" you exclaimed and he nodded gently "Do you think there's some weird psychological reason why my brain knew that and linked it to you or was it just a coincidence?"

"Well, it's hard to explain..." he began to say, turning a little in his seat to be closer to you and begin a long explanation about the connections that our brain creates with things and people.

You were completely exhausted but you didn't have the heart to stop him from saying anything he had to say and you listened intently as much as your body would allow, until eventually you were lulled to sleep by the sound of Spencer's soft voice. When he stopped hearing your hums he realized that you had already fallen asleep and he moved your body carefully until you were completely reclining on the chair, so that when you woke up the physical pain of sleeping on the plane would be less. He, for his part, stayed in the seat next to you sheltered your rest, and at some point ended up asleep too.

The day after she came back from Miami, Spencer was already wearing the scarf you gave him. He had matched it with a brown coat, a vest in a darker shade of purple than the scarf, and a white shirt that together made him look perfect. Also, his well-brushed straight hair fell to the side and his tanned skin looked particularly clean.

You didn’t need to tell him anything because the smile you gave him when you looked him up and down was reason enough for him to be flattered and also proud to receive your approval. All day you watched him, a bit for the garment and a bit for the very pleasure of admiring him, and you noticed that he frequently checked that everything about him looked good, as if he was trying to impress you. Every time he spoke he avoided looking at you, only at you, but you couldn't take your eyes off him.

The day after that he used it too and the next day and the next, to the point where it was strange to see him go anywhere without it, as if it had become a part of him. After a week, while they waited in the boardroom, Elle finally had the courage to face the situation and ask Spencer why the particular choice for something for everyday use.

"It's that his girlfriend gave it to him" answered Morgan, before the brunette could say anything.

"What? No! Y/N is not my girlfriend” he said, completely embarrassed and making sure with his eyes that you weren't around to hear that.

"Oh, now I understand" JJ joined the conversation.

"You understand what?"

“You are always taking care that it doesn’t get dirty or stained”

"Yes, I don't like my clothes to get ruined"

"But more so if it's something his girlfriend gave him" insisted Morgan and in a fit that no one expected Spencer took a ball of paper and threw it at his face. That just got a collective laugh.

"I just like it. That's all”

"We all know you like her, Reid," added Hotch, who had kept quiet thus far and didn't even look up from the files. He flushed red to the ears as the rest of the team shared another laugh, and just seconds later you and Gideon walked through the door.

"Good morning"

"Good morning" answered the others, like school children before the arrival of a teacher. There was one seat left next to Morgan that Gideon took and that forced you into the only remaining chair between Elle and Spencer.

“Did I miss something interesting?” you murmured, leaning into him and smiling close to his face.

"No" he replied kindly, feeling your gaze drop from his eyes.

"Your scarf," you said, reaching out your hands to move it a little around his neck "It was out of place"

Everyone else, except for Gideon, shared knowing glances and stifled giggles as they watched the nervous way he thanked you. It didn't help too much that for the entire meeting you were completely distracted looking at your partner next to you, making the whole team wonder when the two of you were finally going to end up kissing.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #dr spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #jason gideon #JJ #penelope garcía

[empresskylo]

‎‎‎‎‎‎‎     ‎｡･ﾟﾟ･ simon 'ghost' riley x gn!reader‎

craving a warm hug from a big masked military man who will tell you everything's going to be okay? well, this is it. wc. 694

cod masterlist

fuck fuck fuck fuck, you cursed under your breath. you were hoping simon would have already been asleep by the time you got back to his room. you didn’t want him to see you like this—so defeated and broken. 

but no, of course, he wasn’t. he didn’t sleep well without you, so it only made sense that he’d wait up. 

“thought you’d be asleep,” you mumbled as you walked in, not bothering to turn on the light. 

he stretched his arms over his head and yawned. “waitin’ f’you.” he gave you a lazy smile, his eyes following your movements about his room. 

you shied away, grabbing one of his hoodies and pulling it on over your head, trying to hide your face. the smell of his clothing relaxed you slightly, but not enough. 

“y’okay?” he asked, his eyes narrowing while his smile faded. 

“course,” you replied, crawling into the small bed and facing away from him. “jus’ tired.”

you heard him hum in the back of his throat in disapproval. the tears were steadily falling now, but as long as he didn’t see you…

simon’s hand settled on your arm and he rolled you over with remarkable ease. his arm extended over you so he was hovering slightly above you and his brows furrowed when he saw your face. you instinctively closed your eyes, embarrassed.

you felt his calloused fingertips stroke your cheek, wiping away the steady stream of hot tears. “what’s wrong, baby?” his voice low, almost like when he was angry, but laced with concern and an air of softness.

your eyes fluttered open, looking at him through the dew drops in your lashes. you were going to speak, to say something along the lines of nothing, and give him a fake laugh. but your lips turned into a frown and a hiccup escaped your throat. you were ardently crying now. 

he was quick to wrap his arms around you and pull you into his chest, rolling onto his back slightly so you were propped on him. the feeling of him protectively holding you set a bit of your racing heart at ease. 

“jus’...” you began through small cries. “everything.” 

his hand rubbed patterns on your back affectionately. his other hand slid up into your hair, cradling your head under his chin. he hummed softly. “shh,” he cooed. 

your cries continued on, but they softened. simon was absorbing some of the pain—the hopelessness, the anxiety, the defeat—that you were feeling. “everythin’ will be okay,” he told you gently. his voice was rough in your ear as he whispered, his deep baritone not made for speaking quietly. 

“you don’t know that,” you whined, tilting your head up to look at him. 

he gave you a tight-lipped smile. “yeah, I do.” his hand left your hair and he used his thumb to wipe away more tears. “and even if it s’not. we’ll get ya through it. m’here, love. this isn’t all on you.”

you buried your face back against his chest and wrapped your arms around his midsection. he continued to hold you, the soft strokes of his hand on your back never stopping. eventually, he slid his hands up under his sweatshirt you were wearing, his cool hands touching your skin now, and he drew small patterns on your back. it felt nice. calming. 

“m’here,” he promised again. 

you smiled through the wetness in your eyes and against his warm chest. he was here. you weren’t going through any of this alone. simon was here for you. he’d take care of you. 

he held you long into the night, until you finally cried yourself to sleep, never letting you go. his arms tight around you as he slept under you. when you’d wake in the morning, your face was plastered to his slowly rising and falling chest, his arms snug around you, your legs straddling him, both of your bodies flesh against one another. you’d feel a wave of safety in his embrace. you’d know that no matter how bad things got, he’d do anything for you. and he’d steady your racing heart by reminding you he would always be there. 

always.

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆⋆｡˚ ☁︎

#ghost #simon riley #ghost cod #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #simon riley x reader #simon riley fluff #cod #ghost fanfic #simon riley fanfic #ghost call of duty #cod mw2 #cod fic #call of duty fanfic #mw2 fanfic #mw3 #ghost mw3 #comfort #fluff #ghost comfort #simon riley comfort

[nanamiluvs]

lactation link with nanami please

honestly i had to sit and ponder for a moment when i received this request because DUDE i can and i will make this man lactate but that's for another day ig

having his fill !

pairing : husband!nanami x reader

rating : explicit

wc : 1k

tags : reader is afab but no pronouns used, reader is called "wife" once, nanami and reader had a child, lactation kink, breastfeeding, oo nanami wants you so bad, nanami is a little shy when it comes to things like this

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

husband!nanami whose eyes linger on your chest for a moment too long. husband!nanami who thinks you haven't noticed.

husband!nanami whose eyes are on you as you're feeding your little baby. he smiles with fondness, the two loves of his life together in a single picture. he adores the sight, really, as much as he adores you. even as your hair disheveled and your eyes heavy, he thinks you're the most beautiful person in the world.

but what he feels bad about is the moment you shift, parting the little mouth of your daughter from your nipple as you place her back in her crib. he can't help how his eyes linger at the exposed skin, leaking a few drops of milk, swollen and oh he wants to latch onto it so bad and he's going to jump out the window if he gets hard at the sight right now.

it's not like it didn't happen. nanami knows of the few times his dick hardened at the thought of sucking your tits, so full and ready to give him milk as much as he w-

husband!nanami who clears his throat and offers you a smile, pressing a gentle kiss on your lips as he tells you dinner is ready, so come eat.

well, he has, for sure, had his mouth on your chest before- just not during the latter part of your pregnancy and after the baby was born, who was now two and a half months old.

this weird pattern of his behaviour has been going on for quite some time, you knew that much. you had a guess on what the hell that was all about, but you could never be sure when it came to the man named kento nanami.

you two ate dinner, chatting as usual with your laughter and his occasional chuckles filling the room. you were going to get to the bottom of this...but how? how could you possibly start the conversation? so, you decided to delve right in as he finished washing the dishes.

"kento, is there something you want to say to me?" you say, halting your movements to look at him. he stopped in his tracks as well.

husband!nanami who coughs when he feels your chest press against him as you asked, eyes oh-so innocently staring up at his.

husband!nanami who blames himself for feeling a rush of excitement when he shouldn't have. you were probably doing it on purpose, but what if you weren't? he'd hate to be such a degenerate for someone like you.

husband!nanami who confirms his suspicions when you place his large hand on top of one of your tits, making him grope the flesh. "if you want to ask something, just ask, kento. i'm your wife."

husband!nanami who has you laying on the couch as he towers over your smaller frame, his lips kissing yours with fervor. your shirt is off and he's completely clothed as his mouth trails down to your neck. his hands cover almost the entirety of your breasts, separated by the layer of your bra. he shifts the weight in his hands, caressing them, and you feel his bulge shift against your thigh.

husband!nanami who looks at you before he takes your bra off, eyes then immediately captivated by the way your tits move when they're set free. his eyes focus on the darkened tips, mouth parting like he was going to say something.

"can i..."

you laughed at his timidness, scared of asking whatever he was going to ask. "can you what, kento?"

"hell." he buried his face in your chest, cheeks flushing in embarrassment. "can i," he pulled back to meet your gaze, a desperate look on his handsome face. "my love, i apologize if this sounds weird, it's just- can i...have a taste?"

you smiled and nodded, shifting to rest your back on the pillow on the side of the couch. "see, that wasn't so hard." cupping his face in your hands, you pulled him closer and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. "just make sure there's some left for the baby."

husband!nanami who might have misheard your last sentence by the way his mouth sucks on your buds, shy licks of testing the waters turning into harsh sucking that made your milk flow out. you grabbed his hair, whining, saying something about how he's too rough, which falls to deaf ears.

husband!nanami who realizes, once he had a taste, that he's probably getting addicted.

husband!nanami who can't help but toy with your breasts as he fucks into you, watching the milk squeeze out and then reach down to lick the drops. he's mesmerized by both the taste and the visual. while he had always liked your chest, he was particularly obsessed with them after your pregnancy. you let out high-pitched moans as his teeth bit into your nipple, playing with it as if he was the baby.

husband!nanami who likes the taste way more than you would have expected, begging for more with his eyes when you tell him there's probably no more coming out. and he's always right, too, he makes more come out.

husband!nanami whose mouth latches onto one of your nipples when you two are fucking, just needy for you as his hand rolls and kneads your other tit. his eyes take a glance at the way milk comes out squirting, thinking about what a waste it is.

husband!nanami who still feels embarrassed to talk about his newfound kink but is eager to indulge in it.

husband!nanami who has found yet another thing about you to love.

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk nanami #jujutsu kaisen nanami #kento nanami #nanami kento #jjk nanami x reader #nanami smut #nanami x reader #jujutsu nanami #nanami x reader smut #nanami x you #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami x you #nanami kento x reader #jjk x reader smut