#i want to go on the 'real' tangent the weight of that word one day

[dallonwrites]

reblogs off bc i dont want to start Conversations based on other peoples posts but re the whole "who is in control you or the character" question, i find it SO interesting because it's by letting myself discovery write that I (for me personally disclaimer) found the perfect balance between intuition and intention. which to preface "intution" is the easiest way to describe how the inside of my writers brain feels bc often i just get vivid characters/stories/images/scenes with little control at first and i have to figure out what they mean. anyway discovery writing is what works for my brain to make intentional decisions because i need to be amidst a draft to get the Story Cogs working, whenever i try to outline before a draft it's always been just throwing things at a wall bc it feels too far away, but because im also using the discovery element to do that it's like. that's where i think the whole i feel like my characters reveal themselves to me comes from. because im always discovering small bits about them even if i've written them for years just but because discovery writing is also what prompts me to be intentional about writing as i write something it's like both are happening at the same time. so the whole "who's in control" it's like...i don't think control is the right word for me at all because its not Me or the Character it's me trying to understand the character to understand + then write my intentions. like neither me or the character are in the drivers seat because there's no car we are in the middle of the story forest and at first i won't know what it means at all except that it is a Story. and my character will start going one way and sometimes i'll follow and pay attention to where they're taking me to figure out if this is the right path/where to go next. and sometimes i'll figure out how to read the compass first and realise i need to drag their ass in another direction

#anyway i just thought this was interesting because i used to think i needed to outline to be intentional/in control of my story #but outlines are too distant for me to feel like im in control so thats why theyre more organisational than creative for me #whilst we're infodumping on process i also dont like the whole are characters Like Real People or just Story Tools #like yes my characters are tools for the story just like how the story is a tool for demonstrating my characters #like again i dont think its one or the other for me #but i treat them as very 'real' (which this can be another tangent in itself) and intuitive is the best way to describe how i process them #but that doesnt mean there isnt intention and control you know #like the reason i describe my characters and stories as 'real' to me is simply bc they are very vivid in my brain #and that vividness often expands the bounds of the story #i want to go on the 'real' tangent the weight of that word one day #i think this makes sense if u know that for me i rarely get 'ideas' i get images #and characters/relationships #and i have to figure out what that means as a story #also no i dont think you need 'intuition' bc thats just the word i use for myself but i do think you need to understand #how intention works w your writing process and what it means for you to be intentional and what helps you be intentional #and sometimes that will be not considering any form of 'intuition' at all #beloved writeblrs i think i need to launch the dallonwrites substack i cant be doing these tag essays anymore!! i need to expand!!! someone #give me a podcast

[b00tyliciousbabe]

hey i don’t know if you’re taking requests but if so can you write a bottom male reader x himbo Jordan Riki where they’re fucking at home after the game and Jordan is horny as fuck and wants to celebrate the win?

thank you so much :)

THIS EATS SO HARD! omds i love this. and of course, imma try my best to write. ENJOY!

update: my apologies to whoever sent me this request, life’s just been lifin’ - STREAM SUBMISSIVE BY DESTIN CONRAD!

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ＊*•̩̩͙

trophy

jordan riki x male reader

summary: for jord’ you’re the only prize worth playing for.

notes: AHHH! my first request. lowkey kinda exciting, but i went way off on a tangent. nonetheless…still spicy xx

song rec: ‘lite’ by downtown kayoto

a few minutes passed as you admiringly watched him pop champagne for the celebratory pictures. ‘Y/N!’ a young woman screamed. you turned back to see it was sienna, who was going out, with jordan’s best friend, jock. ‘omds! i ain’t seen you in forever, how’ve you been?’ hugging her, you match the excitable energy her smile expressed. it was so nice having someone who understood the pressure of being with a sportsman and how demanding it was. the championship was being held in scotland and thus, the NRL had paid for the entire team to stay in the most beautiful hotel. on the walk back, you and sienna spoke about your plans for the future, mostly on the topic of marriage. ‘i hear congratulations are in order, i am so happy for you and jock!’ you smile at her ‘took him long enough,’ sienna joked as she flashed the engagement ring. ‘i cannot wait, plus as my man of honour, we need to start prepping real soon.’ she says going into bridezilla mode already. ‘trust it’s gonna be the best day ever.’ you sigh stopping in your tracks, ‘what’s wrong, Y/N?’ sienna expresses concern. ‘I’ve just been thinking a lot about how my relationship with jordan,’ you start to tear. ‘sometimes i feel like he will only ever see me as his teenage crush, and not something more.’ you finally admitted and it was like a weight off of your chest. ‘Y/N, i completely understand, but jordan is obsessed with you, he’s always telling me and jock about how he’s just waiting for the right time to pop the question.’ her words were so comforting, and left you with a calming sentiment.

you made your way up to the hotel room, and as you opened the door, you were greeted with roses on the floor. you looked up to see the chiselled figure of your man lying naked on the bed and shimmering in the moonlight. ‘jordan, what is all this?’ you asked, stunned by his grand gesture. ‘i couldn’t celebrate knowing that i left my boy on his own’ he got up and began to undress you. towering above you, he lifted your chin to place a sloppy kiss on your lips. you’d never seen him like this before, dominant with his touch and so submissive with his heart. you pulled off your baggy jeans with one swift move, as you knelt down wearing a vest and boxers.

‘such an eager slut aren’t you,’ he spits into your mouth as you look up at him with bright eyes. ‘careful now,’ you whispered, teasing the underside of his cock with the tip of your tongue ‘i don’t have to suck you off.’ to which jordan snickered at your attempt to manipulate. without warning he shoved his dick inside your mouth. ‘ahhh,’ he breathed ‘much better.’ your lips felt so warm around him and he always appreciated how you were always there to use as his own. he began thrusting deeply, as the percussion of his balls slapping your chin made a beautiful symphony of pleasure alongside your gagging and slobbering on his rod. ‘fuck you look so pretty.’ He groaned ‘I could marry you rn.’ a request he subconsciously muttered under his breath. this sentiment was not lost on you and you stopped to deepthroat him fully, suctioning at the this base of his large dick. ‘SHIIIIIIIIIIIT.’ he grunted, holding your curls in adoration. jordan pulled you off him as you giggled with pride watching how he was entranced by the slick you painted on his pole.

you rise onto your feet, staring up into his eyes. wrapping your arms around his broad neck as he placed light spanks on your ass, kneading your dough with his big, coarse hands. jordan invaded your mouth, using his tongue to fast himself on your lips. his fingers spread your thick cheeks apart as he circled around your taint. ‘jump baby.’ he said deeply as his passion overcame him. you obliged as he placed you lovingly on your back, the bed of rose petals adorned your skin, making this erotic painting all the more romantic. your bf climbed onto you and raised your legs above your head. like a jigsaw, you molded them to fit onto his shoulders, with jordan’s piece knocking at your entrance. your pussy lips puckered at the prospect of getting wrecked, making it easy for him to slip in. ‘jord…’ you moan at how full you felt, signalling to him that he needed to go slowly. ‘easy baby, let me know if it’s too much.’ he reassures, adjusting himself inside you slipping in the last couple of inches. ‘I’m all in now love, I’m gonna go faster okay?’ He kisses your neck as you stroke his biceps.

he bowed his head into the crook of your neck, rutting into you viciously as you cradled his head. ‘fuck babe, fuuuck.’ you both scream ‘marry me…’ he mutters again, you clearly heard it this time. he continues pounding your pussy as his breathing gets deeper. ‘marry me already…’ slipped out as he moaned in ecstasy. ‘fuck yes, I’ll marry you babe,’ you matched his energy as he stopped in his tracks. he stared at you like a lost puppy. ‘shitttt, it wasn’t meant to be like this, i had a whole thing planned afterwards, we were gonna go on a walk, i was gonna go down on one knee and-‘ you cut your man off with a kiss that reminded you of the early days of your relationship. ‘I love you jordan, it doesn’t matter where we are or what we are doing, but i will never stop loving you.’ he started tearing up. ‘Y/N how am i the one crying when it’s you that ain’t gonna be walking for the next week?’ he joked to lighten up the mood. ‘aw babe,’ you whined, kissing him once more ‘if it makes you feel better, i can erase what you said from my memory?’ he smiled into yet another tongue dance ‘nah, don’t even worry about it sweetheart, imma fuck u so dumb you don’t even be able to remember your name.’ he threatened, pressing on your abdomen to feel how deep he was inside of you. his dick twitched as your slick hole was doing so well cockwarming him.

by the end of the night, he had dumped his load into 4 times, and while you laid on his chest, he couldn’t stop thinking about his win. not just the game or player of the season, but how he had won your heart. so while you were asleep , somehow so tired to the point you’d completely forgotten his proposal, he looked up at the ceiling and dreamt about your wedding.

@gayaristocrat dacre is up next ml <3 what typa scenario are we thinking?

#gay #bottom male reader #smut #gay male #gay reader #male x male #male bottom #jordan riki

[heartscrypt]

Hii! I have a question about your thoughts on jamiazu.

Do you think that Azul would ever be able to confess any romantic feelings for Jamil? If so, how? And if not, would they be able to get together in any other way?

Sorry if this is a weird question, just curious.

thanks for your question! it is SO not weird at all i really enjoy stuff like this. actually i am going to go on a huge ramble that goes on a little tangent so like. LONG POST AHEAD!!!! be warned!!!!!

anyways. azul is always confessing his romantic feelings for jamil whether he knows it or not. in every interaction. because he's so damn obvious. hope this helps LOL

in all seriousness though. i really like to think that azul is kind of cursed to be a hopeless romantic despite it going against all of his pragmatic sense. i mean. he's a child of divorce who hates leaving things up to chance and he believes in getting something back whenever he gives something away. being head over heels with someone goes against his whole nature, so i think it's definitely a new thing for him. he won't recognize that his feelings are romantic right away because he'll be too busy trying to justify to himself why he's investing so much time and energy into a guy that Clearly wants nothing to do with him and won't give him the time of day. its business, guys, i swear.... stonks.....

i think once he does come to terms with it though. it starts leaking through in Every Interaction he has w/jamil. in every encounter, azul basically ends up saying I Love You without actually ever speaking it out loud. whether it's through his actions (like getting jamil gifts / offering to help out without any genuine expectation of repayment) or or his words (like implying things about them being good together / complimenting jamil excessively). things he did before he realized, but they just have so much more Weight to them now that he Knows he likes the other in a very Non-Platonic-Business-Partners way. he doesn't intend for it to have that emotional weight but its fucking impossible for him to hide and he does NOT know what to do with himself.

he keeps pushing forward regardless because some part of him hopes that his feelings will reach jamil but he also does it with the expectation that jamil will push back like he always has and that's completely fine by him because never actually directly admitting that these feelings are romantic means that the rejections also stay platonic and that is. Way easier to bounce back from. because god forbid jamil sees at who he is behind all the walls he's put up to protect his most vulnerable and emotional self and ends up hating the real azul too.

tl;dr: i don't think azul would go out of his way to make a real, honest confession of his feelings. but he's so obvious it actually hurts to watch

---

ok so. as for jamiazu get-together:

maybe im like super biased b/c im a sucker for narratives that involve jamil learning to shake his passivity and going ahead and Taking what he wants. but i always think that any scenario where jamiazu gets together has to be initiated by jamil somehow. azul can make the first move and several moves after that but jamil has to be the one to make the Final move if that makes sense.

i don't have like. one set get-together scenario but i have a couple that i like to rotate in my head sometimes. most of them involve azul being a failgirl and getting caught off guard because i think it's funny and jamil also thinks it's funny. here are two for your viewing pleasure:

azul makes a pass at jamil that is romantic-coded but could be interpreted as platonic. jamil seizes the opportunity to turn it Explicitly into a romantic thing and fluster azul to no end about it.

azul: there's a new tasting menu at the mostro lounge if you'd like to come with me and try, i'd love to see what your discerning palette makes of it ^__^!

jamil, very casually: yeah sure. why not. i'll go on a date with you

azul, who did NOT expect a yes so his head is about to explode in t-minus 5 seconds: oh, uh. that's .fantastic, actually— wait. ....DATE?!?!?;!?

jamil corners azul and admits romantic feelings first. bonus points if it's a situation where any romantic confession would be incredibly out of the blue. and the way that jamil says it is like dropping a bomb on azul

like in potions lab. azul's concentrating very hard on pouring an exact amount of a substance. jamils watching him and at some point out of nowhere he breaks the silence in between them by going "i think i like you. in the romantic sense". azul's concentration snaps immediately and he fumbles the beaker into the cauldron out of sheer WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING. it explodes in both of their faces. they both have no chance to address what jamil said because crewel is chewing them out for the next 15 minutes about lab safety. during the entire 15 minutes azul looks like he's been hit over the head with several bricks. Repeatedly. jamil's smirking the whole time though he dgaf. takes pleasure in flustering azul

anyways. im insane about these guys ♥️ if you stuck around and read the entire post im really sorry for writing so much i just have a lot of thoughts

#twst #twisted wonderland #jamil viper #azul ashengrotto #jamiazu #azujami #jamie talks #txt post #the public forum #again. sorry for the long post. oh god they make me so sicj #delusional posting tbh #the azul hopeless romantic hc is something that is very special to me #something about it is just very good. goes against his entire character but he cant help but Feel that way although he knows its irrational #also a big fan of jamiazu situationship #where jamil still insists that he finds azul insufferable and azul calls jamil his future business partner #but they also make out on a regular basis. so obviously they're both not telling the truth #so fucking funny to me. but thats not what you asked so ill elaborate on that eventually on another post

[dodounchained]

I have a genuine question: wouldn't it be better to practice creating your own art, rather than using these image generators? to each their own, but considering how many people struggle creating their own art because of depression following this "ai" boom, I know I personally would not want to contribute to something that makes other people feel bad about creating things by hand.

Hey, thanks for the questions and the chance to dive into these overdue thoughts from a personal angle, because you phrased them so well :)

The straightforward reason I don't practice drawing and create things with my own hands is that I simply don't have enough time to learn a new skill while working a 9-to-5 job while taking care of the family. Fandom is my escape, and there's only so much I can dedicate to it. Learning to paint demands significant effort, time, and talent, and unfortunately, I don't possess those gifts at the moment.

Let me be clear: "AI-generated imagery" can't replace traditionally painted arts, whether on canvas or through digital tools like Wacom or Procreate. They're not even in the same ballpark. Fun fact, I wanted to be a painter as a kid because my mom was one, but she shunned it because it didn't work out well for her. In the game industry I'm in now, Art directors and artists are still highly sought after and are crucial to any successful project. At the moment, AI generation can't precisely interpret what we envision or tell a client that, no, black is too dark for a 70 pt bold logo in a children's game with predominantly pastel colors. It can't even add weight to a line or create a simple walking animation. Returning to the point, we live in a time where both Photoshop skills and traditional oil painting are appreciated, where calligraphy and typewriting are both practiced, and where sculpture and 3D printer skills are both taught in schools. I hope for a future where AI imagery and the drawing community are not at odds but appreciated in their own ways.

For aspiring artists struggling, I can't comment directly as I'm navigating the same path. But I know the struggle is real, justified, and will pay off in the end. If you ask me to feel bad for them, it's like asking a working person if they feel guilty towards Uber drivers. The analogy falls apart because AI and creative artists aren't competing for the same limited real-life resources right now. If someone felt guilty for being able to do something others can't, they'd be living with guilt every moment.

If I sound a bit defensive, I hope for your understanding. I have imposter syndromes (deserved or not), being a woman in tech and an AI image generator (let's not stretch for the word AI artist). This blog goes on hiatus when I'm so depressed that I can't even open the page. I'm enraptured in the R&D process, but there's no one I can talk to about it. It's a different struggle, but I have terabytes of failed models, wasted hours, and spreadsheets documenting what might have gone wrong before the model reaches its best likeness. What's worse, there's little community for us. AI imagery gets a bad rep because there are mountains of perverts doing unspeakable things I witness every day on forums and servers while looking for the newest style or training method. I'm scared to tell people this is what I (can) do. Perhaps in the '90s, people denied going on the internet because it automatically equated them with being a porn-watcher. That'd be funny.

If there's anything to feel bad about, it's the copyright issue in the AI community. I try my best to use models trained over "ethically" obtained images, but one can never be sure. None of my work has ever been used commercially either.

This response has probably gone on a tangent for too long, and I'd like to appreciate your attention if you've reached this far. Fandom is my escapism, and I have so many headcanons that would otherwise be fleeting posts that vanish in a second. Now, I'm gifted with this new tool to indulge in them, and I feel truly lucky.

#discussion #text post

[princessozera]

Sugar rush

A/N: Lost the original request but it was for the brothers reacting to MC waking them up at like 2 am to make/eat sweets.

GN!MC (they/them, 2nd ppov)

Word count: 1.8k

Lucifer

It's almost the witching hour when Lucifer places his pen down with a relieved sigh. Despite the extra work from the upcoming festival, he managed to finish earlier than normal, and he might actually get some decent sleep. He goes through his usual night routine and heads to bed, feeling the weariness leave his body as it relaxes into the mattress. He goes to turn the night stand lamp off when a weight behind him moved the mattress.

"Psssst. PSSSST. Hey Lucifer. Do you want some cookies?"

Lucifer rolls over to glare at you, side eyeing the covered dish in your hands. He's probably be more angry if he'd fallen asleep before you came in, so you've luckily escaped the worst of his punishments. Doesn't mean you're escaping his attitude though. "How did you get in, my door was locked."

"Tsk, so ungrateful. Here I am, going out of my way to make you cookies for a hard day's work and you're on this 'breaking and entering' business."

"MC-"

"Fine fine, I'll save them for breakfast, if Beel doesn't break into my room first."

Lucifer normally checks on his brothers in the middle of the night to make sure they haven't snuck out or raided the fridge, and now it seems you also need to be checked on. Lucifer will be too busy to join your baking most nights, but he does go out of his way to make time for it if he notices you've been down lately. He comes to appreciate these few hours with you, idle chatter but no real pressure to hold a conversation. You simply enjoy each others company as you work in tangent, passing ingredients and cleaning as you go. However, you two work a little too well together; you're so comfortable in this pattern of working together that if you're not careful you end up with enough cookies to feed the entire Devildom, AND Beel.

Mammon

"Ok, it's midnight, I've got half an hour to get to the casino before the real money starts moving-" Mammon mutters to himself as he slicks his hair back, double checking the silver watch on his wrist. Lucifer was out on business and he intended to make use of these next few nights. Mammon knows his brother well enough than to walk out of the front door- it was probably hexed- so he opens a side window to sneak out instead. Right as he sticks his head out, something slams against him and forces him back in. He's ready to curse Lucifer out under his breath, only to see you rubbing your head- having just failed at sneaking into his room.

"MC? What are you doing here?"

"I was going to ask you if you wanted to bake some cookies with me, but now maybe I need to go to a doctor, hell, why is your head so hard-"

"Cookies? It's midnight, you should be asleep."

"So should you." He sticks his tongue out at that, and considers your offer. It's about a 50/50 chance that he'll accept, sometimes he's just too pumped to go out for the night so he'll offer to bring you along instead of staying in. When you manage to convince him to stay in with you, he won't change out of his nice clothes, even if you're in PJs. Rolls up his sleeves and takes his rings off, he insists you make his favorite cookies every time- they just taste better when you make them together. Mammon is the type to throw a bit of flour or batter at you, tossing you a few chocolate chips or nuts here and there as you bake. You two joke easily and sometimes you get so wrapped up in your little bubble that you forget it's the middle of the night so Lucifer has to come down to yell at you two for making too much noise.

Every time Mammon will joke about starting a cookie business with you, one that could rival Madam Screams, and every time you have to remind him that he and Beel would eat most of the inventory. Mammon's ever the smooth talker so he'll help you bake, but he also tries to trick you into cleaning the dishes yourself. Nothing could beat fresh cookies with you at 2 am, even if he knew he'd feel the lack of sleep tomorrow morning. Mammon is one of the few brothers that might come to wake YOU up for a midnight baking session, especially once he realizes you've been inviting his other brothers to bake when he goes out.

Leviathan

Waking him up isn't the problem- it's pulling him away from the game/series of the night. He's always been strict with his gaming, and even the chance at getting some alone time with you doesn't completely waver his dedication. If he's in co-op, there is an almost zero percent chance he's coming with you. Otherwise, you're pretty successful at pulling him away after the next episode/ battle, assuming he doesn't convince YOU to stay.

Levi will often join you, but if he isn't making something specific he sets a timer. The second it dings he's picking up his snacks and going back to his marathon, but of course you're welcome to come chill in his room once you're done baking. If Levi wants to make something with you, his baking tends to be complicated and he's fickle over the designs- mostly replicating food from the last show he watch or in honor of his favorite videogame characters. His hands are steady as he pipes chocolate, never blinking as he keeps watch on the thermometer to avoid burning the caramel he's making, demanding absolute silence for 'fragile' desserts like macaroons and cheesecakes- all while you're here just trying to enjoy a simple batch of snickerdoodles.

Oh, and good luck with clean up because Levi dumps it all on you while he goes to hide his creations.

Satan

"psst pssssssst. Satan, are you asleep?"

Had it been anyone else in the three realms, you might have been obliterated on the spot. Satan's sleep schedule is a bit irregular- between his schoolwork, social calendar, and reading binges it's a little difficult to get sufficient rest, so he tries to make the most of the few hours he can before class. He's glaring at you from between his covers, his green eyes and the most horrendous cow lick the only things visible beneath the blanket.

"Yes."

"Then how'd you respond?"

"Whhhhaattt do you want MC?" His voice is whiny with sleep, so it was a little hard to tell that you were in danger, instead trying to tug the blankets off.

"Come on sour puss, let's make cookies."

"ABSOLUTELY NOT."

Satan puts up a fight, and if you keep pushing he's just going to pin you under one arm and go back to sleep, and now you're trapped there for the night- at least you can cuddle him. Like Asmo, Satan isn't one to compromise his sleep unless he absolutely has to, so if you want to make cookies with him you need to catch him while he's reading late into the night, or coming back from an event.

When you can get him to bake with you, he always goes by the book until he memorizes the recipe. He'll want to make your favorite cookies, but if neither of you can decide on what to make, he'll ask to make cat biscuits to donate to the cat cafe tomorrow. Satan talks about his books, and asks about your schoolwork and other friends while you two bake, keeping a mellow atmosphere since it's late into the night. If the mood is just right, he'll hum a song under his breath as he roams the kitchen, taking a minute to inspect each spice and ingredient before throwing some in for the hell of it. Satan puts on a timer and will let you lean against him while you wait for the cookies to finish baking. He probably won't eat any if it's late, not wanting to brush his teeth again, but he'll make sure to save them for when he goes back to reading later on.

Asmodeus

When you wake him up that first night, Asmo was up in a second, and scared. You never really came into his room late at night unannounced, and when you did you just rolled into bed and fell asleep- so was something wrong? Were you hurt?

Once you reassure him you were okay, he finds your offer of cookies very cute. He'll join you once in a blue moon, but proper beauty sleep is one of the Asmo's essential necessities in life. He'll compromise with you if you want to make cookies a little earlier (when he would normally be at parties) and schedule it with him ahead of time so he can work it into his routine. It works best if you have a few set days in the month to night baking so he's always dressed up for you and might even have a few recipes he wants to try- most of them are cupcakes.

Beel

You think you're waking HIM up? That's cute. Beel was already on his way to the kitchen when you run into him, and he agrees to join your baking mission. He gives you first dibs on the fridge so he doesn't feel bad about eating the rest. Even then, you have to prepare separate batches of cookies because raw cookie dough is one of Beel's favorite desserts. He takes care of all the cleaning while you make sure the cookies don't burn, and prevent Beel from eating them straight out of the oven.

Belphegor

Since Belphegor spends most of the day asleep, it's not uncommon to find him awake for an hour or too at odd times of the night. He'll agree to be with you while you bake, but probably won't do any of the baking himself- instead sitting on the bar stool and enjoying your energy as you bring him up to speed on what you've done this week. He'll pick at the ingredients and take a bite here or there, even helping you mix the batter and dry the dishes, but if the talk lulls for too long, he risks falling asleep. While he normally wouldn't care, it's rare for him to get any alone time with you. As if on cue, Beel walks in for his midnight fridge raid and as you two start talking, Belphie dozes off. When the cookies are done and cooled a bit, you and Beel have a competition to see how many cookies you can stack on Belphegor without him waking up. It's always the full platter, and Beel eats most of them, but you've already squirreled a few away to give to Belphie later in the day. It's like clockwork every time, but familiarity was one of the best things about Belphegor.

#Ozera Request #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me belphegor #obey me beelzebub

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

Training Day

AMHL – Masterlist

WARNINGS: PTSD, domestic violence & abuse, panic attack, anxiety 

“I feel like you’re torturing me now,” Y/N groaned as she put the bar back down on the bench press.

Dick chuckled. “You gotta gain some strength before I teach you, otherwise you’re just going to hurt yourself.”

“You callin’ me fat, Grayson?”

His eyes grew three sizes and his jaw dropped in shock. “No, no, no, no, no. I would never!”

Then he jumped into a tangent about how beautiful he was and he loved her for how she looked and never wanted her to change, unless that’s what she wanted. And it went on and on and on.

Y/N finally took pity on him and started laughing.

“Dick, I’m just fucking with you.”

He pointed an accusatory finger at her. “That was cruel.”

But she only laughed more.

“10 pushups for that,” he demanded.

Her jaw dropped. “Noooo!”

“Yeah. Come on.”

She did as he instructed, knowing she did kind of deserve it.

Afterward, he led her to the training mats. They had done weight training for about 30 minutes or so, and Dick insisted that was going to be a big part of all this. He was right: some of the self-defense moves would only hurt her if she didn’t prep her body.

But when Dick turned to find Y/N standing at the ready on the other side, his tough-love coaching style disappeared.

She looked so small and fragile, clearly nervous for the actual fight training.

Sometimes Dick forgot that Y/N wasn’t like his family or his teammates. She didn’t graduate from field work to sitting behind a computer. Hacking and computer science was her first and only exposure to this life.

“What?” She asked.

“Nothing. You just…look nervous.”

“I am,” she admitted.

With that, Dick walked across the mat and planted a kiss on her lips.

He stepped back with a smile, “Ready?”

She beamed at him and nodded.

For the next half hour or so, Dick taught Y/N all the basics of self defense: how to get out of holds, where to hit an attacker for the most impact, and how to prevent herself from getting injured in the process.

“Things are going to be quicker in real life. You’re going to have to get over the feeling of panic and calm yourself down enough to properly react,” Dick explained.

Y/N nodded with her back to him as she returned to her spot on the other side of the training mats.

But she didn’t reach it before Dick surprised her with a chokehold from behind her.

Before now, Dick had been walking her through moves step by step. But he clearly was trying to prove the point that she would most likely not be expecting these attacks. And he wanted her to get used to reacting to the surprise of it all.

Except…Dick didn’t think this training tactic completely through.

Dick hadn’t taken into account that his student and girlfriend was also a victim of domestic violence.

Since she first escaped from underneath her parents’ roof, Y/N’s had improved a lot when it came to treating and handling her PTSD.

It used to be so much worse.

Loud noises would throw her into panic attacks. People just lightly touching her without her expecting it made her jump feet away. Anytime she got a whiff of alcohol that smelled even a little bit similar to her father’s preferred brand could set her off.

Over the years, it got better.

Therapy helped. Dick helped – his whole family had helped.

But Y/N knew it would always be there, waiting inside her.

And in this moment, it decided to reveal itself once again.

Y/N’s vision blurred. All she could hear was her heartbeat making its way to her ears.

It wasn’t until her entire body was trembling that Dick realized something was wrong.

He let go.

But before he even completely let go, Y/N dodged away so quickly that she almost tripped over her own feet.

She whipped around, eyes so wide. Like a deer facing a hunter, fully aware it was about to be slaughtered.  

And Dick realized how much he just fucked up.  

Without even realizing what she was doing, Y/N slowly lowered herself to the ground, not trusting that her knees to not give out at any moment.

“Y/N,” Dick whispered desperately.

It was hearing how sorry he was already that made Y/N’s eyes fill with tears.

As soon as she was shakily lowered to the ground, she hugged her knees to her chest and hid her face in them.

“Can we stop?” She begged, as if she had no choice and Dick had complete control.

Her voice and sob was muffled by her knees.

“Yes, we’re stopping,” Dick immediately answered with a clear voice. "You’re safe. Nothing’s going to hurt you.”

But Y/N only nodded, not helping to convince Dick that his words comforted her in the slightest. 

Her entire body was trembling as she continued to squeeze her knees as tightly as she could.

Dick kneeled but didn’t move any closer to her.

“Can I…Please…Can I touch you?” He whispered.

But she shook her head.

Not because she didn’t want him to, but because she felt like she had no control over her body right now. And she had no idea how it was going to react to being touched again. 

And she was already mortified and confused and terrified.

“OK,” Dick sighed as he lowered himself to the mat as well. “I’m just going to sit here. OK? I’m not going to get anywhere near you.”

Y/N didn’t respond. But her body was still clearly trembling.

“Can you just breath for me?” Dick asked softly. "Deep breaths in, slow breaths out.”

She still doesn’t respond. But he can hear her trying to do as he asked.

Dick didn’t think he should say any more, worried that his talking was just making the whole situation worse. But then he remembered a tactic Bruce had taught him to console victims who were going into shock or scared of them.

“Can you count backwards from 100 with me?” He then asked.

“What?” She sputtered out, confusedly.

But it was good that she was clearly able to even process that he was talking to her.

“Countdown from 100,” he repeated gently. “100, 99, 98,” he started.

She eventually joined in.

When they reached 1, Y/N went quiet again.

It seemed to have worked. 

After a few minutes, Y/N finally stood up.

“I-I’m s-s-sorry,” she whispered quickly, but it was so quiet that Dick almost didn’t catch it.

The next second, she rushed out of the cave.

Now that her PTSD had calmed down, she was clearly embarrassed.

“Y/N! Wait!” Dick called after her in a panic and jogged after her.

When they got to the main part of the manor and Y/N reached the stairs to go to the second floor, she had flown past a very confused and concerned Bruce Wayne.

Dick paused when Y/N sprinted up the stairs with her eyes blood shot and cheeks tear stained.

“What did you do, Dick?” Bruce grunted, not even considering that it could also possibly be Y/N’s fault.

Dick sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair. “I was showing her some self-defense…and I…I trigged her PTSD and she had a panic attack.”

“You need to be more careful,” Bruce reprimanded.

“I know, I know. It was stupid.” Dick already knew he messed up.

Bruce remained disappointed by Dick’s mistake.

“I’m going to go check on her,” Dick mumbled and passed Bruce with his head hung.

Dick returned to his childhood room, the one they always stayed in while visiting. 

The shower was already running.

He figured he should give her some time to herself and not rush into the bathroom.

Y/N was most likely crying and wanted to hide it from him. Even though she already realized Dick would know that’s exactly what she was doing.

10 minutes later, Y/N came out of the bathroom with a cloud of steam and a white towel wrapped tightly around her.

Dick’s heart broke even more when he saw her red, bloodshot eyes.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry,” he whispered, desperate for her forgiveness.

He should’ve realized that certain things in typical self-defense training could trigger her.

Bruce had taught him to always expect the unexpected. And Y/N’s PTSD should’ve be expected while he put her under such a tense and rigorous circumstance.

Y/N hung her head in shame. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Dick.”

Her voice was so small, so vulnerable. Dick had to hold his breath to hear it.

“Y/N, you have nothing to be embarrassed about,” he insisted and he slowly stood up from the edge of the bed.

Dick wanted to go to her, but he was so scared of making things worse.

“Will you please come here?” He finally asked in a whisper.

She practically tiptoed to her boyfriend, while she held her towel tightly to her body as if it were some kind of armor.

As soon as Y/N was a few inches away, Dick gently tugged her onto his lap.

He was a very tactile man, and not being able to give her physical comfort was slowly killing him. And he felt utterly useless to help her.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed or sorry. I knew better than to surprise you like that. I was an idiot. What happened was my fault, OK?”

She nodded slowly.

Eventually his words would get through to her.

“Can you still train me?”

Y/N finally shocked Dick with her question.

“Of course, Y/N. Let’s just take it slower next time. I promise to be more careful.”

She nodded quickly, fully believing him and trusting him.

Now he put his arms around her, holding her to him tightly.

Dick had always been protective over her. But when she showed signs of being triggered, he went full mama bear on her. But that was also Dick as a person. He was so caring of everyone in his life. He was a big brother, a leader, a stand-in father sometimes even. 

But it often led to Y/N’s guilt when Dick felt the need to treat her like a piece of glass. But sometimes…she was. And that was OK.

“Wanna get to sleep?” He muttered into her hair.

She nodded again.

Dick carefully moved her from his lap and placed her on the bed before he stood.

Y/N watched with love in her eyes as Dick moved around the room and grabbed some of his clothes to give to her to sleep in.

What had she done to deserve him?

“I’ll give you a minute,” Dick told her as he handed the clothes to her. 

Not that he hadn’t seen her naked hundreds of times before. He was just treading carefully now. 

“Want some tea?” He asked as he walked to the door. 

“Sure,” she agreed quietly.

When Dick returned with two cups of tea, Y/N was already underneath the covers of their bed.

Dick watched Y/N as she took her first sip.

“You want to talk about it?” He was ever so careful in his tone, making sure it was obvious that Y/N didn’t have to do anything she didn’t want to.

“There’s not much to tell,” she admitted with a shrug.

“That’s alright though.”

Y/N sighed. “As fucked up as it sounds, I sometimes forget about all the things he used to do to me.” 

She chuckled darkly, “Guess that’s repression for ya.”

Dick winced slightly.

“He used to grab me by the throat. Constantly. Because he hated whenever I tried to talk back or fight him with words. So he made sure I couldn’t talk at all. It was all about control.”

Despite being trigged and having a panic attack earlier, Y/N talked about her tragic past without any emotion, and it sounded so casually. She was numb to the memories, but the scars manifested themselves in different ways now – and that was proven today.

Y/N looked up when Dick hadn’t said anything.

She was taken aback by how he looked as if he was going to be sick.

“I’m fine, Dick. Really.” She insisted as she cupped his cheek.

It hurt Dick to hear these things more than it hurt Y/N now. 

“You were dealing with your past all by yourself long before you met me,” Dick answered. “But I just need you to know I’m never going to let anything like that ever happen to you again.”

He took in a shaky breath. “Even if – fuck – even if something happened between us, and we weren’t together…I’d still keep you safe. Do you understand?”

Y/N smiled.

Oh, Dick. His gentleness never stopped amazing her.

“I know that, Dick. I’ve always known that.”

Before he could answer, she added, “Now enough talking. Can you just cuddle me now?”

Dick laughed at her demanding and teasing tone.

“Get over here,” he pulled her into his chest.

Soon his grasp was so soothing to Y/N’s body that she reached the ultimate level of relaxation, especially after being drained from her earlier panic.

Y/N felt Dick kiss the top of her head before she fell asleep in his arms.

–––––––––––––––––––

ALL BONUS CONTENT CAN BE FOUND: HERE

#AMHL bonus content #all ment have limits #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson reader insert #dick grayson x you #nightwing x reader #nightwing reader insert #batfam #batboys #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x platonic!reader #batman universe #dc

[meliorist-midoriya]

to you, to the world, to my love (you’re all three)

synopsis: midoriya has always had too much love to give in a world that loved to take. you’re just hoping that he has enough left for you in the end.

pairing: midoriya izuku x reader

genre: fluff with a touch of angst

warnings: some insecurity

word count: 2.5k

notes: happy valentine’s day, everyone! this is my contribution for the pocuties server collab, based off the greek types of love, of which i had the honor of receiving izuku and decided upon agape  please help yourself to the box of chocolates they’re offering for valentine’s, there’s a wide selection of chocolates handmade by talented creators, so i’m sure you’ll find something to your taste! tbh i only managed to finish this fic because i was watching chan’s valentine’s vlive and i was in a super soft mood ;3;

extra: agápe - the ancient greek concept of selfless, universal love.

“Making his debut in the pro hero scene, Pro Hero Deku is blazing a trail straight out of UA—”

“—Pro Hero Deku solved an astounding 30 cases in the past month—”

“Deku’s popularity is skyrocketing, rivaling that of—”

“Hero Deku—”

“Deku—”

“Pro Hero Deku has swept the hero rankings to come out on top as Number 1!”

With a resolute ‘click’ of the remote, the reporters’ overlapping voices cut off as the TV screen faded away, your lonely reflection staring back at you from the blank screen. You, curled up on your empty couch, in your empty apartment with the clock striking what should have been dinner. The TV was only there in an attempt to drown out the crushing silence, the white noise—hellbent on filling the space his presence had left—was deafening.

That attempt failed.

Horribly.

If anything, it just made the sense of wrongness permeating the air even worse. 

(That TV recap of his best moments didn’t help as much as you hoped it would.)

Being alone in this apartment felt… off. As if someone had gouged out what should’ve been there, the ghost of a presence settling a chill into your bones that ran far deeper than just plain loneliness. The foreboding grief of what could be, the fear that you’d resigned yourself to the moment you agreed to follow him on this path, the selfishness gnawing at your conscience every time you saw him run out the door to save the next person, to solve the next case. 

Things like an All Might coffee mug sitting primly next to yours on the drying rack, garishly yellow “tufts” staring back at you with a cracked vengeance. (You’d apologized profusely to him that day, promising to buy him another one. He’d just smiled over his cracked cup of coffee, telling you not to worry about it for the hundredth time.)

Things like his haphazard mess of notes and scrawl spread out on the kitchen counter, the pen sitting next to the half finished page. (You’ve long since learned to leave his notes be, they’ll be tidied up once he’s done… if he’s ever truly done.)

The filled queue of movies and pile of DVDs you’d picked out together, giddy over plans to watch the next time he had a free night. (You remember pretending not to notice him trying to slip another hero documentary near the bottom of the pile, distracting you with talks of popcorn and the night that was supposed to be tonight.)

Deku. The man the world adored, clinging to his promise like a lifeline in times of need. 

Midoriya Izuku. The man you loved, who promised you the world.

“It’ll be okay, I’m here.”

His soft promise echoed both in the battlefield and in your darkest hours, a close mirror to a hero of a generation past, yet it was different. It was his own. Comforting, personal, and wholly him. The public, weak and grasping for new support, latched on to the small sliver of hope his hand offered and he just kept giving, giving, giving. It never seemed to stop, and you were scared. 

He was a man with a bleeding heart with all the love to give and more. To the civilians, to the villains, to anyone in need.

Now, you needed his promise more than ever. A reassurance whispered into reunions and the thousandth hospital visit, over fresh scars and searing kisses. A promise that he would come home. You didn’t want to think of all the times he came so, so close to breaking that promise, even before you two had made it, before you two had even promised yourselves to each other in your UA days.

You pulled the blanket a little tighter around you, staring down at your phone with no real intent in mind as you scrolled. The video playing one of his interview clips (bashfully reciting his “catchphrase,” how cute) cut his voice short as you scrolled past to move on to the next, wincing at the next tweet on your timeline. Him, battered and bloody, as he pulled a child from the aftermath of the battle he’d just won. 

You still need to wrap that new mug you got him as a gift. You still had to listen to him bounce his ideas off of you. You still had to move that hero documentary to the top of the pile. You still—

“Hero Deku saves 30 people, no casualties,” A soft murmuring of the headline shattered the silence, and you smiled to yourself, giggling at all the replies joking of how he threw himself into the fray a little more responsibly and singing their praises.

It’ll be okay.

“Ugh, those reporters are at it again.” 

At your best friend’s exasperated groan, you followed their gaze over to see— ah. 

A small swarm of reporters had worked their way into the fans crowding your boyfriend, their press badges reading every tabloid magazine on this side of the city and prying questions falling off their tongue like poison. From what you could hear over their overlapping clamoring, they were trying to dig into his private life.

Again. 

Deku, the darling of the masses, all sweet smiles and sincere words amidst his strength. Deku, the number one hero with the tightest lock on his private life, which came as a surprise to both everyone and no one.

It was a given, considering his position at the peak of hero society.

It was also a complete shock, considering his tendency to ramble into tangents that had his PR team withering.

Which seemed to help in times like these, now that you thought about it, laughing to yourself as you watched the reporters’ expressions darken in defeat the longer he continued to talk around their questions. Quite a long stretch from stiffly standing on the practice stage at UA all those years ago, frozen from nerves. You idly mused to this to yourself, taking a sip of your drink as you dragged your gaze back over to your best friend.

“Did you choose this cafe because it’s right along Izuku’s patrol route?” They stiffened, and you couldn’t help but laugh at their obvious intentions.

“Maybe, or it could’ve been just a coincidence.” The next teasing jab was halfway off your tongue when they cut you off before you could give into the urge, the words dying in your throat. “When was the last time you saw him anyway? I know you two live together but Todoroki told me he practically lives at the agency with how swamped they are. Are you okay?”

You purse your lips, staring down at the ice swirling around in your cup as you idly stirred it round. As if the sloshing liquid could whisper the answer you wish you knew.

“...Yeah.” They cocked a brow, and you took another sip to try and delay your time. “It’s not like either of us can help it. Izuku’s number one, so this was bound to happen.”

(The clamoring from the reporters grew ever louder. Persistent, that bunch.)

Their expectant (doubting) gaze was met with your own steady one, and you smiled. Whether it was out of consolation or resignation was anyone’s guess.

“We’re okay, I promise.”

You should really be getting to sleep. 

Really, you should.

At least, that’s what you’ve been telling yourself for the past several hours, tossing and turning in your bed with nothing but winter-cold sheets and a gnawing loneliness to keep you company. You know you should be sleeping when the clock on the bedside table reads an ungodly hour and there was work to be done in the morning. You know you should be sleeping when the moon disappears from the night sky and leaves you with nothing but the city lights to dimly illuminate the dark room.

You really know you should be sleeping when you hear the front door click open, Izuku shuffling around the apartment to get ready for whatever minimal amount of sleep he’d get before he had to be up and running soon after.

Despite this, sleep still refuses to come, and you don’t bother pretending to be asleep when he slides into bed next to you. Instead, you turn over and curl into his chest, stifling the guilt that bubbles up when he jumps in surprise.

“Something keeping you up?” Oh, he sounds so tired, and part of you wishes you could just make it all go away. The weight of the world rests heavy on his shoulders, and deep down, you wonder if you’re part of that burden. You curl a little closer, as if trying to smother the thoughts that crashed upon you, spilling over the crack in the dam that only widened the more you spoke.

“Jus’ a little lonely, is all.” Your voice is too quiet, brittle, and you pray to every deity that would listen that he would drop it. That he wouldn’t take on yet another burden when he was already carrying Altas’s share of the world.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

Of course, the gods are hardly ever so merciful—to them you are just another wishful mortal in the realm of the holy and damned—and Izuku’s hand rests on your cheek with a tenderness that makes you want to cry.

“...Why?” 

The confusion that falls over his expression (gaunt, tired, and God, should you even be doing this right now?) is immediate, and he tilts your face up to meet his gaze with yours, like he could find the answer in city lights dancing over your face. His thumb strokes soft patterns over your cheek—as if brushing off the layers you’d built to protect your soul—and you lean into his soft touch with a sigh.

“Why what?”

The words spill from your lips unbidden, your hesitations softened by the comfort of his touch, the sudden drowsiness, and the emotion that near overwhelms you.

“Why do you still try to do everything yourself? When there’s so many people out there, ready to support you?” His breath hitches in shock, but it’s too late to go back now. You reach up to hold the hand cradling your cheek, distantly remembering a time when he was too insecure of his scarred and crooked hands to even hold your hand.

He’s come a long way, indeed.

“I love you, Izuku. I just don’t know if that can hold up against your love for the world.” 

Something in his gaze softens, to your surprise. His smile is even softer.

“What would you do if you’re both?”

“Wh— Izuku—”

He continues, and you listen, raptured by his words spoken into the glow of the blue hour.

“Yes, I know that at the end of the day, peace and safety has to come first, but—” His smile widens into something bashful, a smile that never failed to send butterflies scattering through your heart. “—who says you can’t be right along with them?” 

He bumped his forehead with yours, smiling emerald eyes gazing into your own with such love—dizzying and overpowering and so, so warm. With the steady thrum of your heartbeat matching his, you found yourself falling even deeper once again.

“You know me, I can never compromise when it comes to what’s important to me.”

You laugh, something watery, as he presses a kiss to your forehead, temple, cheek, with a last, smiling kiss on your lips.

“How greedy.” He laughs into your lips, pulling away to hold you closer.

“Just for you.”

There’s so many things you could’ve said, as you watched the rest of the night sky fade into the deep blues of dawn. But, you decide, the comforting silence was best left as is, only broken by one resounding comfort.

It’ll be okay.

“You know, it would’ve been nice to know that you had taken the day off before I had that whole guilt spiral last night.”

“It turned out okay though, didn’t it?” He turned back to flash you that cheeky grin of his, half-hidden by his winter coat and backed by the glow of the setting sun. You just rolled your eyes with a laugh before jogging to catch up to him, slipping you hand out of your pocket to interlace your fingers with his.

“Yeah, it did.” 

The walk was silent as you two strolled down the familiar path, winding down after a whole day spent with each other. It was romantic of him, now that you thought about it, to take the whole Valentine’s Day off just for you. You hummed as you leaned onto him, giddy and content at the thought. 

In love, if you were to be so bold.

(Granted, he had to wear a mask and a cap the entire time to hide from the prying eyes of the public, but you made do.)

The sight of aged, familiar scenery pulled you from your musings, and you tugged at his hand to grab his attention, pointing at the quaint bench surrounded by bare gingko trees.

“Hey, wasn’t this the park where you confessed?” At your words, he froze and glanced over at the familiar scenery, eventually burying his face into his free hand with a groan once the old memories clicked in his head.

“Oh, don’t remind me. It’s still embarrassing to look back on.”

“What? I thought you were cute!” You laughed, nudging him to follow as you led him over to the small park, brushing off the dust to sit on the bench before patting the space next to you. Izuku obliged, and you almost automatically curled into his side, as if by habit.

“Did we really walk all the way here from the station?” His disbelieving tone made you look up at him, his expression one of nostalgic awe, before casting your attention back to the aged scenery, humming in agreement as you idly picked out what’s changed and what’s stayed in the years that have passed.

“I guess we never really forget, huh?”

“I forgot the sunset looked the best from here.”

“I hope you didn’t forget all the memories we made here.” He tore his attention from the sunset to gape down at you, scandalized.

“Of course not!” 

“Really?” He arched a brow at the teasing lilt to your voice and the mischievous grin playing at your lips, “So you didn’t forget accidentally firing an Air Force shot at me when we first met because you were training?”

He buried his face in his hands again with another embarrassed groan.

“I hoped you would forget that, at least!” You just laughed, hugging him closer as if to console him from your teasing. Before long, the atmosphere settled back into a quiet reminiscence, indulging in the nostalgia of memories past in this little park. The silence that was once deafening alone, now softened by the comfort of his presence at your side.

“We’ve made so many memories in this park, huh?” At your soft hum of agreement, he continued. Was his voice shaking? “It wouldn’t hurt to make more, would it?”

“What do you me—”

Your question cut itself short as you saw what he held out to you. 

A little velvet box, sitting open in his hand. You dragged your suddenly watery gaze back up to Izuku, his once bashful smile now wobbly with nerves. 

So familiar in this little park, yet so new.

“Happy Valentine’s Day.”

It was just a small walk down memory lane, the street lights blinking on one by one in the wake of the fiery sunset as you two walked the familiar path together. Yet there was something buzzing anew in the air, humming through your soul as you held out your hand to the sun, admiring the way the gem on your ring finger sparkled in the fading sunset. In the other, you interlaced your fingers with his.

Yeah… 

You caught Izuku’s soft gaze, smiling and in love.

We’ll be okay.

#pocuties collab #midoriya izuku x reader #midoriya x reader #bnha oneshot #mha oneshot #bnha x reader #pocuties

[calaofnoldor]

Drug of Choice

Characters: Dean x Reader (gender neutral)

Words: 3,790

Summary: A night of drunken rambling leads to an unexpected change in your relationship status.

Warnings: angst, language, alcohol, feelings of inadequacy, very slight allusions of alcoholism/talk of drug addiction, reader likes the sound of their voice a bit too much when drunk, fluff, implied smut

A/N: written for @deanwanddamons 1st blogiversary and 2k follower celebration challenge! my prompt was “I wish I knew how to quit you“ which is bolded in the fic. congrats on the incredible milestone, sorry this is late! also for @spnfluffbingo and it fills the mood board square for @girl-next-door-writes‘ Make Me Feel Bingo challenge!

Square Filled: Kissed to Keep Quiet

MASTERLIST

It was four in the morning when Dean finally came home, and the bottle of Jack Daniels that sat before you atop the library table was over a quarter of the way through.

The heavy thud of his boots against the bunker floor drew your dark-adjusted eyes toward his shadowy figure, while the alcohol in your bloodstream loosened your lips, "How was she?"

"Jesus- Fuck!" There was a slight commotion before the lights flickered on, forcing your eyes to shut against the onslaught of sudden brightness. "Y/N??” Dean’s gruff, alarmed voice shattered the previously eerie silence, “What the hell are you doing sitting in the dark by yourself?"

Your eyelids lifted an experimental sliver but you kept your gaze directed down at the glass of whiskey in your hands. "It wasn't dark when I started."

Dean narrowed his eyes when he noticed the slur behind your words. "Started what? Are you drunk?"

His second question prompted a dismissive snort from you, "Hunters can't get drunk; you should know that by now, Dean."

"Yeah alright, we need to get you to bed." The man of your dreams began to make his way over to you until your gravelly words ceased his steps.

"I can't sleep... you haven't answered my question yet."

"What question?"

"How was she?"

"Who?"

You looked at him like he was crazy, "You know, the girl from the bar, the one with the curly hair… the one that was climbing onto your lap when I left?"

"I don't- there was no girl," Dean stumbled. His lips were parted and his eyebrows pulled together in an ever-gorgeous expression of bewilderment, but you were too busy examining the way the newfound light danced along the lustrous amber liquid between your fingers to notice.

"Oh," you grumbled in response, sounding a bit disappointed, which only served to deepen those adorable lines of confusion between Dean’s brows. "She sure was pretty though.” There was a pause as you pondered his declaration before blurting out in disbelief, “You really didn't fuck her in the back of Baby?"

"What- No! Y/N, there was never a girl and nothing happened, OK?" He sounded genuinely serious, so you conceded.

"I'm sorry."

"Why- why are you sorry?"

"I know you needed to blow off some steam after today, after I pissed you off by fucking up the hunt." You ventured a glance up at him through your lashes and the unadulterated pain in your eyes almost had Dean reeling back in surprise.

"What are you talking about? You didn't 'fuck up' the hunt," he argued, shaking his head as if to accentuate his point.

"Course I did. I got you hurt and I nearly let that dickbag get away."

A weighted sigh escaped Dean, "Y/N, you have to know that wasn’t your fault, and it’s not like you haven’t done the same thing for me. Besides, I wasn’t pissed off, I was... I was scared, OK?”

You were about to take another sip of your drug of the night when you lowered your glass to let the irrepressible giggle leave your system, “Scared? Since when does the big bad Dean Winchester get scared? And if he did, he definitely wouldn’t be talking about it out loud. Are you sure you’re not the one who’s been drinking?”

“I mean, I have been drinking but that’s beside the point. Look, Y/N, why don’t we talk about this tomorrow, alright? You’ve just gotta sleep this off.”

"Pft. This isn't something I can just sleep off. Trust me, I've tried." There was a tickle in your throat that alerted you of the oncoming word vomit, but your friend Mr. Daniels seemed to be gaining complete control of your tongue; it was all he was ever good for really, “I’ve also tried drinking it away, but clearly that doesn’t work either. There’s just- so much- of it, of you… and now, now you’re in me-“ Dean’s eyes went wide but you were no longer at liberty to stop, “and I can’t get you out. Sometimes I don’t even think I want to. But I don’t think I can keep going like this any longer either… all this waiting, and wondering, and watching.” Some fragment of sobriety within you recognized how ridiculous and melodramatic you sounded and it gave you enough sense to avoid eye contact with the subject of you’re alcohol-induced speech, as if that could help you elude further embarrassment.

“OK, you’ve gotta slow down, Y/N/N. What the hell are you talking about?” At this point, Dean had moved to take the seat across from you, subtly sliding the bottle of Jack out of your reach as he sat down.

A mirthless laugh was your reply, "Of course you don’t know. Why would you?“

“What does that mean? Why wouldn’t I? Y/N, what’s going on?”

But you ignored his questions and answered with one of your own, “Why am I never enough? You know what, don't answer that; that was a rhetor- rhetor…”

“Rhetorical?”

“Yes!” you exclaimed, flailing your index finger in his direction, “Yes, that’s the word. See, even your brain is too good for me.”

“What- why would you say that? Y/N, you know that’s not true. And why do you think you’re never enough? You’re plenty enough.” Concern now painted Dean’s features. He hated seeing you this way, broken and depressed, trying to drown your feelings in whiskey; he’d figured that was his trademark amongst the bunker residents. And he couldn’t understand how someone as incredible as you would think themselves unworthy of anything. Whichever son of a bitch made you feel this way would pay, Dean swore it.

“Then how come you never pick me?” you countered simply, deciding it was finally time to call out his hypocrisy.

The accusation floored Dean. He scooted back in his seat as he stared at you with a slack jaw, utter perplexity swirling within his emerald eyes. Over the years, Dean had garnered an inkling that you felt some kinda way about him, but he never really let himself believe, and not once did he think he could be hurting you. On the contrary, he always figured it was his own hopeful heart playing tricks on him. Even now, he wasn’t entirely sure he was hearing you correctly, or that your drunken state could be trusted, though he remembered you once told him that you were always the most honest version of yourself when you drank, whiskey in particular.

“I watch you go out with waitress after bartender after waitress, but I’ve been here the whole time, and you never consider me. It’s like I don’t even exist, like I’m not even an option, like I could never even help you scratch that itch, at least not as good as any barfly across the Midwest could.” You were aware that this was getting out of hand, but you couldn’t seem to find the brakes. “But that’s not even the real problem – I mean, sure, a roll around the hay with you would probably be mind-blowing as fuck – but it would never solve the root of it, never be enough for me.”

Dean had been studying you meticulously as you spoke, your words starting a fire to the embers of his soul, breathing life into a long-forgotten hope that brought him both joy and fear. “What would? Be enough for you, I mean?” His tone took on a raw sultriness that matched the intense, borderline predatory glaze of his eyes. Needless to say, Dean hadn’t expected your sardonic laughter to fill the air, and your sudden frenzied, carefree state certainly took him off guard.

“Nothing!” you laughed, “I don’t think anything will ever be enough for me! C-cause you’re like this drug that I’m hooked on and it’s just so fucking hard to get off… I mean, it’s also hard to get off without you now, or thoughts of you anyway...” Your tangent was quickly overcome when you remembered the topic of your initial spiel, “But it’s like everything about you draws me in! From the way you reference classic literature even though I’ve never seen you pick up a book that’s not about lore, to the way you rebuild Baby from scratch like it’s no big deal, to the way you’re so good with kids even though you never got to be one yourself, to the dumb way you bottle up all your feelings and never let them see the light of day yet still manage to do so much good in the world, t-to the way you get excited over classic rock and crappy horror movies and pie, and don’t even get me started on the way you love Sam! I mean, it’s just all of it! It’s your strength and perseverance through literal hell, it’s your huge fucking heart despite the mask of swagger and charm, it’s that stupid grin you get when you make a dumb joke and Sam rolls his eyes at you, it’s just those god damn lips in general! And then you walk around looking like that!?” you gestured wildly at all of him, “I mean, who gave you the right?!”

Dean looked like he was about to respond, but you cut him off. There really was no stopping your tirade now, “I’m like an addict who can never get enough, and when you leave, I get feelings of withdrawal, and I don’t know how to fucking deal with those either… You’re so deeply ingrained in me; I don’t think I’ll ever be able to flush you out of my system. And I just-“ you took a rare pause to heave a large breath before admitting quietly, “I wish I knew how to quit you. I really do, because as much as I love you, and trust me, it’s a whole fucking lot – God, does it feel good to finally say that out loud – but for every ounce of love that I have for you, for every bit of you that I’ve inhaled, it hurts just as much. Because you don’t feel the same, and you never will, and I don’t blame you, because you’re Dean fucking Winchester and you could have whoever you want with just a wink and half a smile, and you deserve to have whoever you want-”

“Are you done?” Dean was quick to latch onto the brief respite in your monologue, “Fuck, Y/N, you really have no idea what you do to me, do you? What you are to me?” His head shook in disbelief while his troubled green eyes searched yours.

“What I am to you? I’m your hunting buddy, Dean. The one you call when you need an extra hand with a vamp nest or an extra set of eyes to scour the books, the one who stays up with you when you have nightmares about the souls you tortured in hell, the one you sing rock songs out of tune in the car with, just never the one you go to for a booty call,” you finished with a bitter laugh.

Dean’s head had never ceased it’s shaking, even as he got up and walked around the table towards you. “Only because you’re worth so much more than that. Y/N, you deserve so much more than me.”

It was your turn to shake your head. How typical, you thought as you rolled your eyes and stood up to meet his eye line, “Don’t give me that bullshit, Dean. I know you’re trying to let me down easy and that’s nice of you and all, but you can’t fool me. I know you too well, Dean Winchester, and I know there’s no way in hell that- Mmf!“ The rest of your words were intercepted by Dean’s lips on yours.

The feeling was unexpected but not at all unwelcome. There was an urgent force behind the kiss as he pushed his mouth against yours with gentle yet firm ferocity, bracing your head with large hands cupping both sides. It felt as if he was desperately trying to convey a message to you, to disprove your woeful words of self-pity, or perhaps he just wanted you to shut up. You, of course, responded with tremendous enthusiasm regardless of his intent, grasping blindly at his forearms while slotting your tongue and lips around his in an increasingly frantic manner. You didn’t care if the kiss wasn’t good for him; this might be your only chance to take what you need from Dean Winchester, if only a tiny fraction of it.

When he finally pulled back, you were both panting for air. Dean still held your head in both hands as he leaned forward to rest his forehead upon yours. “Dammit, I shouldn’t have done that; you’re drunk... Do you at least believe me now?”

A slight grimace contorted Dean’s features as his mind was suddenly bombarded by a multitude of conflicted thoughts and feelings, feelings of desire and regret and bliss and unease, but when he caught the dazed look in your eyes, Dean made up his mind, “Ah, what the hell, you’re probably not gonna remember much of this anyway. Look, Y/N, you’re wrong. I do feel the same way about you; I have pretty much ever since I saw that magnificent ass of yours.” Pausing to chuckle at his own words, Dean licked his lips, still able to taste the whiskey from yours.

“The only reason I fucked around with those other people was because I couldn’t stand not being able to have you,” he continued through closed eyes and gritted teeth before filling his chest with a deep breath, “Like today, when I saw that fucking werewolf come at you, I nearly lost it. The thought of anything happening to you scares me shitless, and I didn’t know how to process that feeling, so I let that girl at the bar get close. I was trying to fill the hole you created but it was pointless cause in the end, just like every other time, I couldn’t go through with it. Every time I try to forget about you, your face shows up in my head,” he growled in that low, throaty tone that always seemed to reverberate down to your nether regions.

“But I- I wasn’t lying when I said you deserve more than me. Y/N, you know me. I’m a broken, twisted, shell of a man. I’m-“

“Poison, I know,” you finally lifted your head away from his so that you could look directly into his dazzling eyes. Dean’s hands slid down along your neck and landed on your shoulders while yours remained on his forearms, not willing to lose all contact. “I know what you’re gonna say. You think you’re poison, that being with you puts a target on my back, that loving you is a death sentence… Did I get that right?”

Dean gave you a miniscule nod and a look of resignation as he reluctantly released you from his hold, forcing you to let go as well when he took a large step back. You suddenly felt extremely sober, the effects of the alcohol and that kiss all wearing off instantaneously, “And you hate yourself. No one hates you more than you, Dean.” Your voice was hardly a whisper now, “But that’s OK, cause I hate myself too, for never being able to make you realize that you are so much more than you give yourself credit for, that you deserve all the things you think you can’t have, that you can have them all and still be Dean Winchester.”

You watched as Dean’s eyes began to water and when a single tear rolled down his cheek, you couldn’t hold yourself back anymore. Approaching him as slowly as you would a nervous animal out of its natural habitat, you stopped directly before him before cautiously raising your arm to wipe the offending tear away with your thumb. Your eyes seemed to be locked in a silent exchange of colossal magnitude, expressing everything mere words could not, from harrowing regret to agonizing self-inflicted torment to desperate desire. It was the yearning in his shimmering eyes that gave you the courage to speak your next words, a runaway tear of your own joining the whispered plea, “Please, let me show you.”

When your eyes fluttered open the next day, they were greeted with the most beautiful sight you'd ever awoken to. Dean’s face was barely a foot away from yours, and the man himself was already awake, staring directly at you. He was lying on his back with his head turned towards you, while your body was twisted to face his. A bedside lamp was on, allowing you to marvel at the breathtaking perfection in front of you, and despite the booze having long since evacuated from your veins, your mouth still imparted the first thing that came to your mind, “You know, I've always wanted to count your freckles,” you murmured honestly, “Maybe map them out like tiny constellations so I can memorize them better, so that one day I could trace them even with my eyes closed.” Your fingertips moved of their own accord as you spoke, gliding softly over his cheeks and across the ridge of his perfect nose.

Dean caught your hand in his and kissed it repeatedly as his magical olive eyes continued to bore into yours, never once leaving your face. His pouty lips curved into the slightest smile as if he were afraid to rear hope yet couldn't fight the peaceful thrill you were bringing him by simply lying next to him. “You’re not still drunk, are you?”

“Not unless it counts to be drunk on you… Sorry, that sounded a lot less cheesy in my head.” You cringed but Dean’s smile broadened.

“And no hangover?”

“No, I told you, hunters can’t-“

“Get drunk. Yeah, I heard. So does that mean you remember everything?”

“I don’t think I could forget that kiss if I wanted to; my brain wouldn’t let me.” You glanced down at his gorgeous mouth before meeting his gaze again, “I meant it all, you know? Everything I said was the truth. Every word.” You moved your thumb to graze his lower lip and he puckered his lips to kiss it.

“So did I, every word… Especially the part about that sweet ass of yours.” The hand that wasn’t holding yours roamed down to grab at your butt cheek with a hefty yet tender squeeze, causing you to squeal in delight. When you settled down, he moved your hand to place it above his heart, “You know I’m no good at chick flick moments, but you can trust me when I say I’m addicted to you too.”

The sincerity in his voice sent butterflies through your stomach and your smile felt invincible. “I hope you know that when I called you a ‘drug’ I didn’t mean it in a derogatory way. Some drugs are good for you. Some drugs can save your life,” you whispered as you fisted lightly at the soft cotton of his t-shirt.

“I wouldn’t go that far, sweetheart.”

“Isn’t that what you did yesterday?” Dean was about to retort but you sent him a raised brow and a look that said ‘don’t test me, I’ve got loads more evidence where that came from’ so he simply looked down with a small grin. “Does it still hurt?” You motioned to the white bandage on his shoulder where the werewolf had scratched him up yesterday when he jumped in front of you.

Dean shook his head, “Right now I can hardly feel it. Actually, it hasn’t hurt at all since I kissed you.”

The corners of your mouth lifted some more at his words. “See, that’s what I mean. To me, you’re like coffee on an early morning, morphine when I’m hurting, tranquilizers when I’m freaking out, Zoloft when the world’s got me down, mixed with a shot of ecstasy, and quite possibly the most potent form of Viagra known to mankind.” You might have lingered a moment to chuckle at your own joke, thinking ‘it’s funny cause it’s true’. Dean belted a guffaw himself and you were quite pleased as you continued, “You’re everything I’ve ever needed, all wrapped up in one beautiful, self-loathing man.” You stroked his stubbled jaw and caressed his cheek, letting your words waft softly across the distance between you, hoping he could sense the veracity within them, “And I just want you to let me love you, let me get high on you, so I can show you how good you are. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

A wave a sadness flowed through Dean and he lowered his gaze from yours. “This could end bloody.”

“I know,” you nodded, “But it’s so much better than the alternative... It was getting a bit too hard to bear, even if you were only eye fucking all those other suitors. Besides, if it means I get to kiss you whenever I want, it’ll be worth it. And if it means I get a chance to prove to you how worthy you are, then it’ll be more than worth it.”

“I was only staying away because I wanted to protect you from me, but I didn’t realize it was hurting you. I never wanted to cause you pain; Y/N, I need you to know that.” Dean’s warm, calloused palm ran up your arm, it’s gentleness in stark contrast to his fierce tone, while yours continued to cup his cheek.

Astounded by the passion behind his words and the utter beauty of his face, you whispered in awe, “How are you so perfect?” Seeing the cogs begin to turn in his brain, you quickly moved your index finger to press against his plush lips, “Shh, just let me say it. Baby steps, Dean.”

He took your finger and guided your arm to wrap around his wide shoulders, careful of his injury, then reached out to pull you snugly towards him until your bodies were completely flush, your chest heaving against his. “Well do we have to take baby steps with everything? Cause now that I’ve finally got you in my bed, I was kinda hoping you’d let me take you for a spin in it. Maybe find out if it’s really – how did you put it again? – ‘mind blowing as fuck’ I believe were your words?” That signature smirk of his that always brought you to your knees came out to play.

Your laughter fanned across his face, and the smile on your face was effervescent, “You really are one hell of a drug, Dean Winchester.”

thank you for reading! as always, feedback is marvelously appreciated!

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#dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #deanwanddamons2kcelebration #spnfluffbingo2021 #Girl Next Door's Make Me Feel Bingo #dean winchester x male!reader #dean x female!reader #dean winchester angst #dean fluff #dean winchester imagine #dean x you #spn #supernatural fanfic #fanfiction #my writing #text

[commander-kirschtein]

modern!au random quirks headcanons for the 104th

have some rather random headcanons that have been living in my brain for the 104th kiddos - mac

masterlist

eren jaeger:

always talks louder than he needs to. this boy doesn’t understand the concept of inside voice.

he gets caught speaking his internal monologue out loud (pretty much canon.)

If it wasn’t for mikasa and armin, he would be late to everything.

doesn’t have auto correct on and types incredibly fast, so expect 5 messages before you can finally understand what he was trying to say first time around.

argues with jean who the best spider-man is. eren thinks it’s toby maguire, jean is strongly for andrew garfield.

mikasa ackerman:

puts four sugars in her tea. she’s got a sweet tooth.

she will baby talk to animals. only in a whisper though because she doesn’t want anyone to hear her being so adorable.

has an almost photographic memory. super good at remembering appointments and people’s birthdays.

likes scrap-booking! she’ll collect tickets/paper souvenirs/stickers and will print off pictures of friends to stick in it. plus she’s amazing at calligraphy style writing so it looks super pretty.

can’t stand artificial light. her bedroom is lit solely by candles.

armin arlert:

knows all the words to asap science’s periodic table song.

can solve a Rubik's cube in 20 seconds.

knows lots of useless trivia. mainly because he spends so much time reading random wikipedia pages.

can’t fall sleep until he’s checked underneath his bed and inside of his wardrobe at least twice (just in case monsters might actually be real.)

has notifications turned off on his phone because they make him nervous, therefore it might take 3-5 working days before armin gets back to your message.

jean kirschtein:

loves peeling the plastic off brand new things - would buy a new phone just to peel the plastic off the screen.

likes to go for random drives at night with the radio playing. preferably in the passenger seat so he can drift off.

the volume of the tv/his phone always has to be an even number.

goes off on tangents - the topic has to change 5 times before he makes his point.

he snores - tell him and he’ll deny it.

sasha braus:

can’t keep herself still. always fiddling with something and will shift weight from foot to foot when standing around.

likes to eat squirty cream straight from the can.

can’t have her nails painted because she instantly gets the urge to peel it off once they’re dry.

can open bottles with her teeth.

makes the corresponding animal noise when she sees an animal. she sees a dog - she barks. she sees a horse - she neighs (much to jean’s dismay.)

connie springer:

puts milk in before cereal. when people ask why he tells them that it’s his way of bringing chaos to the world.

won’t eat the crust on bread/pizza.

his shoes are always untied.

really good at accent and impressions. it’s his best party trick and it always makes everyone laugh.

has to drink everything through a straw. even bottled drinks and cans.

marco bodt:

really good at wrapping presents. at christmas he’s his friends go to present wrapper.

likes to write nice things to his friends on post-it notes. mainly things like ‘i hope your exam goes well today!’ or ‘hoping you have a wonderful day today!’

refuses to curse. he’s just so pure. jean’s making it his life mission to hear marco say ‘fuck’ at least once.

is super giggly and finds everything funny when he’s tired.

panics when going through airport security even though he knows he’s done nothing illegal.

historia reiss/christa lenz:

refers to her friends with pet names only. most common ones are honey, sweetie and lovely.

that friend who always has everything you could possibly need on her: painkillers, plasters, tampons, lip balm - she has it all.

taps her nails on every surface and says ‘asmr’ when she does it.

wakes up early every morning just to see the sunrise and then will go back to sleep. she just thinks it’s pretty.

ymir:

doesn’t sit on chairs normally. big L from death note vibes when it comes to ymir and chairs.

has a denim jacket covered in pins and badges.

she won’t admit it but she’s extremely ticklish. Don’t tickle her though because the consequences are not worth it.

refers to babies as ‘gremlins.’ and sticks her tongue out at little kids who stare at her.

the queen of eavesdropping. knows everything about everyone. don’t get on the wrong side of ymir cause she’s full of blackmail material.

reiner braun:

terrible at singing - but this doesn’t stop him from singing.

so bad at taking compliments. he can dish them out with ease but dies inside if he’s complimented back (please compliment him he needs love.)

gives an active commentary about every film he watches. Don’t take him to the cinema unless you want people to shush you every 10 minutes.

calls all of his friends ‘kiddos’ despite being the sameish age. He’s just such a dad. Speaking of which - he’s a dad dancer and dad joker.

likes to pick up his friends and throw them over his shoulder or bridal carry them by surprise. even bertholdt. especially bertholdt.

bertholdt hoover:

he can do some card/magic tricks. don’t ask him how, he won’t reveal his secrets.

he has freakishly bendy fingers. can do that thing where he pushes his fingers backwards and they touch his wrist.

starts most of his sentences with ‘umm.’

trips over nothing quite often (it’s those long ass legs - but reiner is always there to catch him ;))

likes to listen to minecraft music to fall asleep (okay but sweden is so nice to fall asleep to.)

annie leonhardt:

still sleeps with stuffed animals (so do i there’s no shame in it folks.)

likes to go out for walks listening to music, pretending she’s the main character in a coming of age movie.

everyone will agree that she has the most amazing smile. but you don’t often see it because whenever she does smile she covers it with her hand.

wears socks to bed. especially fluffy ones.

fascinated by reptiles. she wants to have a lizard and a snake as a pet.

#hope someone finds these interesting lol #i spend way too much time making headcanons for aot characters than fulfilling my irl responsibilities #attack on titan #aot #snk #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan headcanons #104th #eren jaeger #mikasa ackerman #armin arlert #jean kirschstein #connie springer #sasha braus #marco bodt #historia reiss #christa lenz #ymir #reiner braun #bertholdt hoover #annie leonhardt

[coltsbitch]

spectrum ~ armin arlert x reader

armin arlert x reader; 3.2k words; fluff; soulmate au summary: he lights up your world, too bad you don’t realize until it’s too late.

masterlist

It truly is one of the most tragic realities of the world. Some say it’s that you don’t know who that person is until you lose them, others say that it’s losing your person and the vividness of the world in one swoop.

But if this person truly is your soulmate, wouldn’t the world be dull and grey without them anyway? Maybe that’s your sense confirming what your heart already knows.

You used to pester your parents with questions about this phenomenon.

“So how are you supposed to know they’re your soulmate.”

Your parents smiled at each other, “Well peanut, you’ll just have to let your heart guide you.”

“But what if you choose the wrong person? And don’t realize it until they die?”

“Then let yourself love freely and fully.”

You didn’t appreciate their roundabout answers, but with time you realized it’s because they didn’t have the answers. No one did. No one knows why all the color drains from your eyes as your soulmate’s life drains simultaneously. Only that it happens.

You often wonder which of your parents lost their color first as they were devoured by titans. Or if they even lost their color at all. Maybe there was some sad soul out there that blinked one day and suddenly saw in greys not knowing their soulmate was being eaten in a small southern town of Wall Maria, as their child watched.

You think that’s the worst fate. Not knowing who that soulmate was, just that they’re gone. At least if your beloved dies and you can’t see the green grass or blue sky, you’re comforted knowing you were each other’s greatest loves.

But why are you thinking about this at a time like now? As your knee deep in pig shit on the new queen’s farm?

“Sasha! The scraps are for the animals!”

Oh right. He’s why.

You glance up as Armin is trying to pull Sasha away from the bucket of table scraps meant for the pigs.

Armin had come into your life in the most unexpected way. Being that he knocked into you mid air during an ODM gear training. His momentum had caused you to lose your grip and fall, luckily landing on a tree branch instead of the ground twenty meters below.

He was able to readjust himself and land feet first on the branch, “I’m so sorry! I didn’t look which way I was going!”

You ignored his babbling apology, more concerned with trying to regain your breathing while clutching your leg that had taken the brunt of the impact. Rolling to onto your stomach you tried to rise to you knees, but the weight was too much, and you fell back down.

“Arlert! ___!” You both looked down to see Shadis below, “You’ll make a delicious snack if you keep this up! Now move!” He screamed, not even bothering to hear your replies before kicking his horse into a trot.

You blush now thinking about the way you brushed off Armin’s offer to help but instead pushed forward through the pain, lip bleeding by the time you laned from how hard you bit into it and leg throbbing from the movement.

Armin was able to find you later that evening in the infirmary, which you weren’t sure how he even knew you’d be there. None of your friends overlapped, and you were sure you didn’t stick out to anyone, so it’s not like someone would notice your absence from supper.

None the less Armin brought you a serving of the disgusting food that was passed of as a meal for the night, with an apology on his lips.

You expected it to be a one time thing, guilty for the mishap in training that day. But he stuck around. Finding you on free afternoons, asking you to partner up in trainings, small waves during mealtimes.

Your friends would tease you about him, comparing him to a lost puppy. You didn’t think much of it until his friends started with the comments. You would overhear your name being tossed around, glances your way, and Armin’s always face flushing a deep red.

But he never said anything to you, never acted differently than he always has. You chock it up to friendly teasing, probably what they do to each other all the time. But that doesn’t stop you from reading into his comments and touches deeper. Doesn’t stop you from imagining kisses and touches you could be sharing if he ever gave you such indication.

It goes on like this for the final years of training and all throughout your time in the Scouts together. You don’t mind though, it’s more than enough to be by his side as he tells you about his dreams and he listens to yours.

Maybe this is what your parents meant by love freely and fully.

“You should say something.”

You jump out of your skin and whip around to see Historia standing behind you, “What?”

Her eyes glance to where yours were recently transfixed, “Before it’s too late.” You shift uncomfortably, averting your eyes. You know about the morning Historia woke up to a world of gray. Everyone does, her cries were loudly heard throughout the farm.

“It’s not like that.” You answer.

“It doesn’t have to be to make it any less real.”

You glance back at Armin who has given up on controlling Sasha. He must feel your eyes because he looks up, smiling when he sees you’re looking.

Your heart flutters. How could it not?

But you don’t say anything. There’s too much happening. You can see how the stress is bearing down on his shoulders and under his eyes. He’s dragged into meeting after meeting with Commander Erwin and Captain Levi. Squad leader Hange picks his brain every free moment he has. He’s comforting Eren who’s still struggling to comprehend everything that’s happened.

So when you’re able to grab a minute alone with him after the sun has long gone down, you’re not going to add on to his problems with your feelings. The fact that he seeks you out at the end of the night to decompress is more than enough.

When this all over you tell yourself. You promise yourself. You’re going to tell him how you want to travel the world with him. You want to be by his side when he sees the sights he’s only read about. Wherever he goes, you’ll follow.

But now you’re wondering if either of you will ever see those sights. It all seems pretty hopeless.

There’s seven of you. No clue what’s happening on the other side of the wall, but it doesn’t sound good if the ricochet of loud bangs is anything to go by. But Armin comes through with a plan to stop Bertholdt, something you’re sure only he could think up.

But you should have known better when he pauses on the rooftop. The rest have already left to go after Reiner, where you should be joining them. But one last glance over your shoulder and you see Armin is already staring at you like he’s trying to drink in every detail about you.

“Armin?” You ask, wondering if he’s calculating something new, if he’s realized a flaw.

He looks like he has something to say. That look he gets before he’s about to dive into a long tangent, but he shakes his head of whatever that might be.

“I believe in you.” He says instead, before turning and jumping off the roof.

He doesn’t look back. You’re still standing watching him go. He’s too focused to look back, you think. But he knows he can’t bear to see your face again; it might break his resolve.

You find the others, and it’s a flurry of explosions and debris flying everywhere. Your heart is beating out of your chest as you and Jean divert Reiner’s attention. He flings part of a building at all of you, dust catching in your eyes even as you block it with your arm.

There’s a dizziness you feel when you see only one thunder spear lodged into his jaw. Your heart falls into your stomach. Part of you is saying there’s still hope, Mikasa can still make it, but there’s an overwhelming grief filling you for some reason.

You crash into a house, your leg taking the brunt of the impact. And suddenly your mind flashes back to when Armin knocked into you all those years ago. Why are you thinking of this now?

You look up to the colossal titan. It’s exhausting so much steam you can barely see the wall, let alone Eren or Armin. There’s a bang behind you and you turn to see Reiner exploding out of his titan. And then there’s an even louder sound and you watch as Bertholdt’s titan crashes into the wall.

We’ve done it, you think.

You have no fucking clue how it was all pulled off, but it’s happened.

Rising to your feet you jump down to where Hange is pressing their foot into Reiner’s chest, and they begin to hack off his limbs. You can’t watch, and turn your head to see Jean and Mikasa. Both are exhausted, but there’s a sense of relief in their eyes.

There’s still so much dust, and your eyes settle on Mikasa’s scarf. It looks like it’s covered in ash with how black it is. Jean too, he looks pale, too pale.

Your heart stutters.

You whip around to Hange again. The vibrant green of their cloak is dull and muted.

You choke on a gasp.

You look up at the sky. It doesn’t hold the vibrant blue from before. You had even noted how the sky was too clear and beautiful for what felt like such a somber day.

“I can’t, I can’t see.” You whisper. Your eyes are moving from place to place, trying to find a glimpse of color, but it’s all fading, and fast.

Mikasa is in front of you now, calling your name, but you don’t hear her. Can’t hear anything over the ringing in your ears.

I can’t see.

I can’t see.

I can’t see color.

“Armin!” You gasp, eyes meeting Mikasa, and her expression falls as fast as she hears his name leave you lips. She’s always been so perceptive. She knows instantly.

For what will be the only time in your life, you’re faster than her. Sprinting before catapulting yourself into the air and above the roof tops.

You can hear her calling behind, probably following behind, but you can’t stop, can’t slow down. Because there’s still a slight shine to the sky. It reminds you of his eyes.

You see the steam emitting from the decaying colossal titan and you know that’s where he is. Even if there hadn’t been that marker, it’s like your heart knows anyway.

You crash and roll onto the roof. There are more people than you expected there to be, but your eyes lock onto what you know is him.

You want to vomit. You almost do as the stench of burning flesh reach you. But you don’t.

Is it your eyes? Or is this how burnt his skin is?

Falling to your knees, you ignore the commotion behind you. Levi kicking a screaming Eren, Mikasa tackling Levi.

“Armin.” You whisper.

Your hands shake above him, unsure where too touch, if you even should. There’s a labored breathing coming from his body. You know that’s why this world still has the smallest ounce of color to it.

“Armin.” Tears are running down your cheeks. Did he know? Did he plan this? He hesitated earlier, like he wanted to say something. Did he know?

You never considered this as an outcome. Losing your color, losing your soulmate. You’re didn’t think there could be something worse than losing an unknown soulmate. You knew him. But he wasn’t yours. It’s the could of that hurts more.

You could have said something.

You could have been something.

You gently place a hand to his cheek. It’s so hot, too hot for a body. But if this is the only chance you have to cup his face the way you dreamed about, then so be it.

“I wish we could have figured it out sooner.” You whisper, “I think part of me always knew.” You wobble on your knees. “Did you know?”

Eren and Mikasa are desperate and can’t see what’s in front of their own eyes. But you know it’s impossible for your eyes to play a trick on you like this.

You sob, tears falling onto his face, immediately steaming away.

You want to lean down, to press your lips against his. You don’t care. You can ignore the smell. You can close your eyes. You can pretend that you’re kissing him at the sea he never shut up about. That was your plan in your daydreams.

The Scouts would retake the wall. They would clear out all the titans. And the second you’re truly outside the walls, seeing the sights he would wax on and on about, you would lean up and kiss him, tell him how your stomach flutters when he looks at you, how his words fill your heart.

But this would have to do.

And you would have, but instead your ripped away from his body.

“Stop!” You cry, fighting the person holding you, “We still have time!” You look up and see Jean is holding you against his chest, shooting a cable to the next building.

You wouldn’t even call the sky blue anymore. There’s not a drop of color you can see anywhere, but in your heart you know you had a few more seconds.

“Please!”

But it’s no use. You turn again to get one last glimpse of him alive while you can.

If only you had more time.

“We can still save him! He can eat me!” Eren is thrashing against the scout you don’t recognize, “There has to be enough left!”

You glance at everyone standing on the roof. No one is talking but Eren as he tries to persuade anyone who will listen. And then suddenly your heart is seized in a tight grip and you know he’s gone.

“Eren.” You mumble, “Shut up.” He looks at you with raw pain and anger in his eyes, but when he sees the tears tracks on your face, the sorrow in your eyes, it’s like he understands too.

Like everyone could see it so simply. Everyone but you.

You collapse, unable to stand any longer. It hurts unlike anything you’ve ever felt, can’t comprehend what you’re feeling.

The crackle of lightening fills your ear. What would colorless lightning look like? But you don’t want to see this. You don’t want to watch Bertholdt eaten. You wish this doesn’t have to happen, that none of this had ever happened.

There’s a collective gasp.

“Look.” You hear Jean say behind you. You follow his words, seeing the newly formed titan collapsing to the ground. But something is off about it, the hair too long and body too malnourished to be Erwin you think.

Cables shoot out and you see Levi flying towards Hanji, somebody thrown over his shoulder. But that doesn’t make sense. It’s not Armin, so it must be Erwin. But if that’s Erwin…

Mikasa and Eren are already flying to the ground.

You trip over yourself trying to follow, almost out of gas, leaving you to slide against the pavement when you tumble. You hear the others behind you, but your eyes are stuck on the person Eren is pulling out.

Everyone is crowding around, but you’re glued in your spot before his titan form. The color slowly seeps back into your world.

His golden hair returns first, blowing from the steam. His skin shining with sweat under the sun. You watch as each of you comrades fill with color, the world slowly returning to how you once knew it.

“Armin.”

It’s hours later by the time you can get a moment alone with him while he’s conscious. His nervous energy has him walking along the wall, you volunteered to go with, in case anything happens. But you’re not too concerned, early today you saw him burnt to a crisp and now he’s here beside you like nothing’s changed.

Like you didn’t have your whole world turned upside down and back again.

Armin sighs taking a seat on the edge of the wall. He’s looking out towards the destruction in Wall Maria. “It doesn’t seem like anyone else made it.”

You take a seat beside him, “No.”

“But I’m still here.” He mumbles to himself, “I still don’t understand why Captain made this choice.”

“Please.” You choke out.

Armin’s head shoots up from staring at the ground fifty meters below, surprised by the anguish in your voice.

“Please don’t think that this was the wrong choice.” You grab his hand, “That you being here is wrong.” Your eyes meet his, “Because I don’t think I could survive that.”

Armin is stunned by the conviction of your words, how absolute they must be to you. “___, you’d be okay. You’re stronger than you think.”

“Armin.” You’re exasperated, how does he still not understand? “When you were dying on that roof top,” He flinches at your bluntness, “I felt like I was drowning, and nothing could pull me out. Fuck, I mean my whole world was drowned out in darkness.”

A gasp escapes his mouth, “You don’t mean?”

You feel tears gathering in your eyes, “Please don’t ever make me feel that again.”

Armin searches your eyes, finally understanding. He doesn’t know how to answer, it’s impossible to answer, “I’ll try?”

You laugh at the awkwardness in his voice, and it lightens the thickness between you two.

“I feel like part of me has always known, at least hoped.” You continue shyly, “I promised myself I would tell you after we retook the wall.” You avert your eyes, “I’m just glad I still have the chance.”

“I umm, always wanted to say something. But I wasn’t sure.”

“Well, I know for sure now.” You give a small smile, squeezing his hand.

“Yeah.” Armin says breathlessly, “I guess you do.” His brow furrows a bit, an intense thought probably crossing his mind, “You think there’s any research out there about soulmates and near death experiences?”

You have to hold back a scoff at his always inquisitive mind. This is what he’s thinking about right now? “Armin?’ His focus returns to you, “Can I kiss you?”

Armin’s eyes widen to saucers, which is the most expressive reaction you’ve gotten from him yet. Is he that surprised? You just explained you were soulmates for fuck’s sake.

His mouth is open and closing as he tries to form a response, instead settling a brief nod.

You cup his cheek, softer than before, the perfect feel in your palm, and lean in pressing you lips to his. It’s a sweet kiss, sitting atop Wall Maria overlooking the vast land you both nearly died to reclaim. His hand is gripping yours tightly and you thread your fingers into his soft hair.

Armin pulls away, a faint blush staining his cheeks but eyes shining, “I’m so glad I decided to knock you out of the trees that day.”

You laugh at the memory that maybe in a roundabout way brought you here. And then his words click, “Wait, you did that on purpose?!”

#armin arlert x reader #armin arlert #armin #armin x reader #armin arlert fluff #aot #snk #aot x reader #snk x reader

[lordkambe]

Hi, sweetie. Hope you're doing good! 🐣 Please take care of yourself and drink some water 😊 Could you please do the "what kind of s/o he needs to fall in love" request but with Haru? 💖

🧸   character, fandom, type of reader: haru kato, balance unlimited: millionaire detective, gender neutral reader.

🧸   genre, rating: fluff.

🧸   themes, triggers: anxiety 

🧸   author’s note:  hey, i’m doing well thank you so much for asking ! i hope you’re doing well yourself 💛 i honestly screamed when i got this request because i really do yearn for haru. just every episode i find myself falling for him, he’s such a cutie. i hope you enjoy~

+  haru strikes me as the “let’s take it slow” type of guy only because he respects boundaries. given that he has walls up himself, he would never place his s/o in a situation where they feel like they have to force their feelings out. he wants things to unfold naturally and truthfully. haru never wants to rush things. he’s patient with you, and you’re patient with him.

+   with such a demanding job, haru needs someone to understand that his work is important to him. giving haru an ultimatum ( you or his work ) would definitely place a huge strain on the relationship. as long as your patient with him and understanding, it’s smooth sailing. which isn’t hard to do provided that haru actively makes an effort to be the best boyfriend he can be.

+   he actively takes advantage of his vacation days. he turns off his cellphone or just leaves it behind when he’s with you. he’s completely cut off from “work haru” and transforms into “boyfriend haru” because he genuinely cares and loves his s/o.  

+   haru is someone who has a lot of anxiety and feels like the weight of the world is on his shoulders. he needs someone who will bring him back to earth and remind him that, he was given this world and that he didn’t make it. as much as he values your advice what haru needs most is a listener. nobody at work listens to him, his old bosses don’t, daisuke doesn’t either --- he just needs someone who will sit there and listen to him vent out his frustrations.

+   this definitely isn’t a one sided ordeal either. haru wants to hear about your day too, he wants to hear about what’s bothering you. essentially what haru values most is communication.

+   he is someone who requires physical affirmation as well. he loves hugs, cuddles, and kisses. anytime the two of you are out his hand is holding yours or he has his arm around your shoulder. he just one of those guys who loves physical touches.

+   kindness and an optimistic outlook on life is something haru admires. overly cynical or just negative personalities are a turn off for him. someone who sees the good in him, the world, is someone he would fall in love with in an instant. following up on that, he likes it when you’re kind to others. not just him. if you show compassion to animals, children, just anyone -- he’ll be in awe.

+   because he moves slow with the relationship he often battles if he loves you. it’s not in a bad way, it’s just to check if he’s ready to take things further. he reminiscences a lot with you. haru takes a lot of pictures of you and the dates the two of you have been on. sometimes he goes through the pictures himself or he sits and shares them with you.

+   kinda sure in that moment he just turns to you and says how he wants to marry you. it’s completely accidental but genuine. he fumbles over his words and is like, “y/n... i’m kidding. but i’m serious... but this ... this is how i wouldn’t ask you, i’d be -- romantic about...about it.” he keeps going on and on about how he would propose to you properly and the only way you can shut him up is to kiss him.

+   you have to do that a lot actually, haru is on some long tangent about something he’s super passionate about and you can see he’s getting heated about it. so in order to make him shut up you just grab his face and kiss him. he gets all flustered after and scratches the back of his head. and is like, “what was--- was i talking about something?” 

+   i truly think that haru falls in love slowly but then it hits him all at once. if that makes sense? he could be sitting across the room from you while you’re working on something and he just yearns for you. and you turn to haru and when he notices that you can see him he turns bright pink and pretends he was doing something else.

+   you have to tell him you like him back or he gets (cutely) upset. he’ll drop you off at work and stick his head out the window and yell “I LOVE YOU SAY IT BACK” and if you get difficult about it he gets all pouty.

+   little spoon haru is real and it exists and he loves it when you hold him after a long day at work. play with his hair and give him soft kisses. he just melts in your lap like a little kitten.

+   his favorite thing in the world is when you fall asleep in his arms and wake up in his arms. something about seeing you before he goes to bed and then again when he wakes up just fills him with so much peace and hope for a future with you.

#haru x reader #haru kato x reader #haru x y/n #fkbu x reader #fkbu x y/n #haru kato #fkbu #millionaire detective x reader #millionaire detective x y/n #hk. #tm. #fluff. #fkbu. #kthdream

[miraculousrainbow]

Sleeping In The Bathroom Is Better Than Home

Description:

Chat noir cannot stand being at home anymore and by chance stumbles upon Marinette wich turns into an unexpected sleepover

Hurt/comfort

Marichat (can be viewd as romantic or platonic)

Oneshot

Trigger warnings : mention of verbal abuse, mentions of neglect, discussions of bad mental health, bad mental health, insomnia, anxiety, trapping a child mention (ask to tag)

"Im done and sick of it"

He couldnt think straight, he just knew that he needed to get out as fast as he can

Plag popped out in a look of concern but before he could say anything Adrien already climbed out the window and yelled "Plagg claws out" and jumped out

His movement wasent his usual cat like swiftness

It was heavy and frantic

He was stumbling around in the dark and crashing into a wall or a random pole every once in a while but ignoring it as nothing happened and just, keeps going

He was going around blindly

With the only purpose of just, getting away

After a while of hanging about at the dark he calmed down a bit, but he was still fearful

His dad yelling still ringing in his ears and with each sound feeling like another hit

"Ignore it he insisted"

"You are here, you are safe, you are not at home anymore."

"You are safe." he whispered to himself loudly with a bit of a panic in his voice and a desperation to make these words feel true

But it was getting late he knew that soon he will need to go back home but he couldnt bring himself

He would rather sleep outside

"The only problem is that he would be an easy target for hawkmoth or criminals depending on the form"

"Or he could just stay a-"

His thought had been cut mid sentence while he was walking he realised he sees a familiar light and in the light had been basking a familiar figure

"Marinette!" He exclaimed with relief in his voice

"It was nice seeing a friend out here and a light source when everything else seems so dark and bleak and eerily quiet..."

"Chat Noir?" Marinette blinked trying to figure out where the dark ends and where the cat starts

"Its nice to see you" he said with a sheepishly smile

"Is there an akuma" Marinette eyes darted from place to place while her expression seemed so focused she wouldnt miss a fly

"Not tonight princess" he replied feeling a bit guilty he made her worry

A sigh of relief escaped the teen's mouth and her expression softened

And when she looked up to his surprise she looked like she is actually happy to see him

"So what brings you here ~Chat Noir~." she said his superhero name like you would call someone a royalty title jokingly

"Wich... was fair, but! he just hoped she knew every time he called her princess it was full of fondness"

"Oh um, just going for a walk, getting some fresh air"

"At two at night"

"I can ask you the same princess" he stumbled on his words he didnt expect that

"He havent being keeping an eye on the hour"

"He hoped he wasent missing for too long"

"But with his father absence he sometimes thinks he could of being kidnaped by hawkmoth for days and he wouldnt even notice"

"and sometimes he could of just barged into the room out of the blue"

"For ones he hoped for the first one"

Marinette unexpectedly decided to be the first one to break the silence

"Thoughts, just too many thoughts" she replied honestly and wiped her eyes in tiredness and maybe tears

Even though her answer seemed quite generic he recognised the real weight these words hold

"You?" She asked softly in sleepiness

"I just couldnt handle staying there anymore"

He blurted out choking on a bit of tears

"Her honestly just made him feel like he couldnt keep it inside anymore and that he could just share it safely and it will be okay"

"Like he didnt have to keep it down anymore and he really couldnt not like this not when he finally feels safe and the adrenaline from earlier is starting to die out and the tiredness is kicking in"

"Not next to Marinette"

"When she just comes with honestly openness and without anything to hide behind"

"She could of waited a little longer he would have come up with a joke to sweep her off her feet or at least made her laugh thats a win too"

"And just have a normal conversation"

"But she chose openness and he couldnt help, but choose it too"

He was a bit shaking he didnt notice till Marinette put a hand on him "hey, do you wanna go talk inside?"

The cat was frozen in surprise at the sudden touch

but as soon as it went is as soon as it goes

"And I know your identity needs to remain a secret for yours and the safety of your loved ones"

"So tell me just as you can and want of course" she made a serious face in the end but he couldnt ignore how cute it was

He noded thankful and followed her in

"Not surprisingly her room was much warmer than the cold outside"

They set down and Marinette asked while fiddling with her fingers "So, what happened?"

"My dad just yelled at me"

"Again" he rolled his eyes with a snort of someone who learned to turn their anger into despair and nihilistic jokes

"Its or he leaves me alone and neglects me or he yells at me and traps me"

"And in the past it used to be or he neglects me and traps me or he yells at me and traps me"

"But good luck trapping Chat Noir ha ha" he said with exhaustion and finger guns

"Unless you are hawkmoth if he would of being I bet he would have trapped me then too" another bitter laugh escaped his mouth

"What about you?"

"So you know those nights when you try to go to bed and you just lay there but you cant stop thinking and your thought are running and running and you just start shaking and you cant stop and no matter what you cant sleep and you wish so badly you can but you just cant so you stand up cause you cant take it anymore"

She blurted out as well just more in a mini frantic tangent

Instead of a frantic blurt out

"So maybe" she says with a twirl of her hand like she tries to drag the word longer and just not let the sentence end

"Im having one of these nights"

She covered her face with her hand and looked away like she is even ashamed of having a problem

"Wich is super unfair everyone has problems" he scoffed in his head

"And also one thing was made sure by this conversation she was crying earlier"

"Actually yeah" he replied looking up from his knees and surprising them both

"I do get these nights from time to time"

"Now it was his turn to look away"

"Now he is the one feeling shame in having problems"

"Honestly, he thinks it made both of them feel better knowing they are not the only ones even though he and of course Marinette! would never wish this upon each other it was still nice being in the same boat"

"Its exhausting" she exclaimed and looked like she was trying to rest her had on air and getting grumpy each time it doesnt work

Chat tapped to time on his knees to signal that she can use him as a pillow

Marinette without taking a second thought took the invite and settled down

At the moment of contact Chat Noir felt like lightening were running up his spine he just hoped he didnt move

He wasent used to other ppl contact much

And he always withdrew away quite quickly

"Its not that he didnt like others touch"

"Its just that it would always overwhelm him so much"

"And it made him feel like he needed a break but every time he was ready to come back"

"There was nobody left"

"And lets not talk about how it was before school when there was nobody to begin with"

"She looked so comfortable like it was all natural being so close to someone and just putting your head down"

"He wishes he could feel like that too"

"He hopes one day he will"

After a moment of rest and a sigh of relief Marinette asked "So, whats the plan?"

"Kinda how he would of asked his lady on battle he wondered if thats how he looks like"

"Uh, I kinda planned on staying awake outside until I will collapse of exhaustion..."

"Well, thats a horrible plan."

"In retrospect, he agreed but its not like he had any other options" he thought to himself

"The only room with a decent lock is the bathroom but I cant let you sleep in the bathroom!"

"I considered sleeping outside so this sounds much better"

"Chat!" She protested

"Its not like I have any better options" he sighed into his hand

"Okie but Im putting a clock to 5 in the morning so you will be back before anyone notices"

"But then what about you? dont you need any sleep?"

"I dont think I will fall asleep befor 5 am to be honest" she made an awkward laugh in an attempt to make it seem not as bad

"And, having company for a change even if will be a sleeping one soon is nice."

She looked up to him still resting on his lap with a soft smile that looks like it means Im really thankful you are here but you need to go to sleep now

"Marinette I-" he couldnt help but let a sigh of relief escape his mouth "I cant thank you enough"

"Hey what there are partne- pretty good friends for!"

"She started stammering. Now he was sure she was too tired for communication and needed some rest"

"So lets get ready for the sleep part in our kind of spontaneous sleepover!" she said like it was all part of just a regular late night party

He chuckled and replied with a simple sappy "yeah" and he got ready to bed

And in a long time he actually had a good sleep even though it was in the bathroom

The end <3

Update: thank you everyone for the feedback!!!

#miraculous ladybug #ladybug #marichat #mlb #mlb fanfic #ml fanfic #ml fic #mlb fic #fic #fanfic #miraculous tales of ladybug and chat noir #miraculous #ml #ml marichat #marinette dupain cheng #chat noir #ml angst #angst #hurt/comfort #mr fic #mr fanfic #long post #my post #tumblr doesnt let me reply #but I really appreciate #the comment #✨ #(and my friend feedback too ✨)

[1rintooru]

At Arm's Length

a/n: someone explain to me why i love making myself sadder with angst when i’m already in angst-mode???🤡🔫 decided to do smth wild and write some suna angst ✨

word count: 1230

summary: you reminisce on a potential situationship with our beloved pussy-banged Suna Rintarou💖

When you first met Suna, you initially didn’t like him. At all. There was something about his aloof and cocky demeanor that rubbed you the wrong way. Your first impression of him was that he was this arrogant rich kid chasing one high after the next. You never gave him much time or thought and for the most part your interactions were quite dry; it wasn’t like he cared that much either- he was constantly surrounded by people, even if that group of friends was broad and everchanging.

So, imagine your surprise when you couldn’t find your friends during your lunch break, only to spot a rare, yet isolated Suna. You contemplated ignoring him. You considered making a one-eighty and searching for your usual lunch-buddies. “That’s just cruel,” you thought to yourself as you begrudgingly made your way to his table. His attention broke from his phone once he saw you pull a chair out.

“Where is everyone?”

He shrugged, “I have no idea. I thought the same thing.”

A silence settled between the two of you, but it wasn’t awkward. It felt peaceful and you couldn’t help but notice the shift in Suna’s demeanor as well. His intense, deadpan glare was replaced with something much softer and his eyes seemed warmer.

You were looking forward to getting a mouthful of your carefully made lunch, but you received an earful instead. What started out as pleasant small talk and him asking, “Have you heard of Lil Uzi’s latest single?” ended up in him going off on multiple tangents. Within 45 minutes you learnt about the meaning of life, the possibility and likelihood of aliens- which then led to him raving about Star Wars and reciting multiple lines from movies you’ve never watched and finally about how religion changed throughout history. Even without a mouthful of rice you wouldn’t have known how to properly respond to his rapid-fire theories but it didn’t matter. Suna’s eyes lit up in a way you had never seen before. He was glad that someone was finally listening to him.

After that moment in particular, you and Suna would conveniently end up near each other. Whether it was on your lunch break with the rest of your mutual friends or because you had been partnered together. He still held this aura of aloofness and didn’t seem to care too much about others but when it came to you, he became uncharacteristically soft-spoken and curious. You were spared from his blunt and sarcastic remarks that he usually aimed at his friends. He wouldn’t ask for your input to be polite, but because he sincerely wanted to know. If you offered advice, he would nod his head thoughtfully, taking the weight of your words seriously.

At some point in time, you two must have made the unspoken agreement to walk home together. Suna wasn’t notorious for being conversational, but that seemed to change when he was with you. You were surprised with how family-orientated he was. His eyes would light up and an immense pride bubbled through his voice when he spoke of his mother. He would complain about his little sister frequently, but his words were laced with so much love that it caught you off guard. “Oh my god, that brat looks like a clown,” is what he’d usually say.

You were convinced this man had short-term memory or that he’d been too heavy-handed with his green. He had a tendency to retell his stories or repeat an observation he’d already made or ask a question you’d already answered. Normally you’d find this grating after a short while, but you could hardly get mad when you knew you were one of the few who got to see this side of him. So, every time he showed you pictures of his mother, with the same enthusiasm and pride, you’d always respond equally as intrigued. You didn’t mind when he showed you his sister getting into their mother’s makeup for the umpteenth time. You didn’t mind how close he would get to show you the video on his phone. You didn’t mind how his hands would absentmindedly brush against yours. And you definitely didn’t mind the warmth that would bloom in your chest every single time.

You yourself felt prideful. Prideful that you had cracked the code of the mysterious and unassuming Suna Rintarou. It was in the way he would let his goofy side show around you. Cracking a history pun or making a movie reference that only you would understand since no one else cared enough to listen. It was in how he expressed his care. You were always kept up to date on the antics of his little sister and he somehow always knew when you were angry, even though you thought you kept a straight face. The way your eyes would always shyly meet and how your feet would always end up entangling themselves into another was no coincidence; especially not with how he spoke to you, as if the sound of his voice could break you.

You saw the real him. Those moments you did see the real him were brief and fleeting, but you embraced them wholly. Little did you know at the time, the two of you were more similar than you initially thought. You too, had let your guard down and showcased a much lesser known but equally important side to yourself. He made you feel different. His interactions with you made you special. You could’ve gone days describing him and how complicated your relationship was, but deep down you knew that the tugging of your heartstrings were a much simpler explanation instead.

After the both of you graduated, the two of you went your separate ways. Just like a phantom, he had vanished from your life completely. Overnight, a seemingly invisible string had been cut between the two of you. It hurt initially, but you were quite quick in moving on; you were busy in your new life, juggling a part time job and more school. Suna Rintarou quickly became a fond memory, though the lack of closure felt incredibly bittersweet.

It was an ordinary, albeit cloudy afternoon when you took the bus back home. You were absorbed in your phone until your attention moved to the two young men who got on at the latest bus stop. You were easily able to recognize one of the men from the way he walked alone and you felt a sense of giddiness. Your eager eyes scanned him intently before finally moving upwards and being met with an intense, deadpan glare.

He had forgotten you.

The silent joy you felt instantly dissipated as a wave of wistfulness washed over you. You weren’t even surprised, not when he looked at you as if you were a stranger because now everything made sense. You understood now why Suna was so popular. Everyone liked him for how he made them feel, yet he kept everyone at arm’s length; he was like the sun and everything else just orbited around him. As you snuggled into the back of your seat, you thought of how the man you hated in the beginning became the one you would cherish the most. You thought your relationship was special, but it was actually quite ordinary. You were not even a memory to him.

You thought he was the one. But you knew you were one of many.

#haikyuu!! #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #suna rintarou #suna x reader #hq suna #suna rintaro #suna rintaro angst #suna rintaro oneshot #selfmade #haikyuu imagines #hq imagines

[nightswithkookmin]

Hi I just want to ask something. Do you think Jungkook has been always like/love Jimin the way he is before or just when he started to glow up. I'm just asking this bc you know Jungkook has been always rank Jimin last on looks or said he look different without makeup before. I know he didn't meant harm to Jimin but do you think Jimin has been trying to look good and go on extreme diet to be loved by Jungkook or Jungkook has been always trying to hide his feelings for him but act tough

Huh?...

What an interesting question....

For a moment there I thought I had already discussed this in my blog posts? Chileee.

Now you'd have to specify which period in time you consider a glow up point for Jimin. Do you mean the period of 2014/15 when he was starving himself, passing out on stage and bleeding through his nose to stay anorexic? *Side eyeing you.

To me, Jimin's 'glow up' coincided with their debut in 2013. Those fine abs, sculpted muscles yet soft toned feminized features- sorry Jimin, you weren't fooling no one.

This was also the period I noticed JK showing overt signs of sexual and emotional attraction towards Jimin. Jimin just seemed oblivious to it. And he would begin his own whipped journey around 2015/16 in my opinion.

Personally, I believe JK fell first for Jimin and 'turned' him- turned for lack of a better word. I don't buy into this whole Jimin fell first JK fell harder rhetoric.

But I think JK's interest in Jimin began long before this period. I don't think Jk had fully grasped the concept of his own sexuality much less to have come to terms with it in any time before 2012- before Jimin arrived in Bangtan- ok maybe he had a vague idea of it, but I do believe Jimin was his sexual and romantic awakening.

Jk and Jimin have two very distinct and opposite idol personas. I keep saying this.

Since we don't know them in person, I think it's safe to assume every aspect of them we experience on screen is a persona.

That persona is a facade, a curated wall on which they project bits and pieces of their true self and often put up a performance of this identity for our consumption.

In Jk's persona, he likes to retract and conceal aspects of his true personality and censor himself a lot while JM likes to amplify and exaggerate his true personality and put up a performance of it.

As I've said, it's mainly due to their backgrounds. JK was given a lot of leeway in his upbringing which he feels puts him at a disadvantage because he ends up exposing himself too much. Thus he likes to retract and hold himself back.

Jimin coming from a conservative background with many rules and what not revels in the new found freedom Idol life gives him so often he doesn't hold back as much as JK does. But that doesn't mean that who they really are in real life.

So often you'd hear people say Jimin looks more serious in person than he does on camera while JK is said to be more expressive than he usually is on camera.

But here is the thing, concealing his feelings is not JK's nature it's his choice. And this is very important to note. He chooses not to do certain things on camera while Jimin chooses to do certain things on camera.

So when JK is not showing his feelings for Jimin it's not because he can't show those feelings, it's more like he doesn't want to show those feelings.

Thus when people say he wasn't showing his feelings for Jimin because he was shy I raise my brows- Shy my ass. Lol

Was he acting tough then? Hmmmm. He likes to act tough no two ways about that. I've said he has a good poker face between him and Jimin. If you are not careful you might think he doesn't like Jimin. But trust me, that man is whipped on god.

But I don't think that's what he was doing in those early dynamics.

I think he was hesitant in pursuing Jimin openly at the time because he wasn't sure about Jimin's sexual orientation much less whether or not Jimin reciprocated the feelings he had for him.

And you could tell not knowing these about Jimin terrified JK a lot, hence his hesitation.

But later when he was certain of both he became more confident in the way he expressed himself and his feelings for Jimin.

Prior to this you could see him fishing and testing the waters with Jimin, slowly pushing Jimin's boundaries- a gentle touch here, a lingering stare there.

He would often pay attention to the things Jimin would say but especially about his romantic and sexual preferences. Like when Tae said he felt Jimin liked men and when Jimin was asked about why he liked JK and JK seemed like he wanted to know.

Then he went through that phase where he seemed obsessed with Jimin's reaction to when other guys sexualised him and expressed interest in him. He seemed very attentive to these little details in a way that seemed to me as if he was fishing for confirmation that Jimin actually liked men and liked him- in a nonplatonic manner.

I feel Jimin noticed these things too in JK but was mostly fascinated by it. So often he would go out of his way to express his sexuality, exaggerate it and perform it as if to let JK know he was ok with JK liking him in that kind of way. Often, you'd see him egging JK on to touch him where JK seemed hesitant, reassuring JK- I think y'all know the bit I'm talking about. I feel JM wanted JK to feel comfortable expressing his interest in him- he ain't slick.

I've said Jimin's persona is a performance. I can see how to JK that could be very confusing. Hell, half of the fandom still read Jimin wrong to this day. Is he gay, bi, straight, a woman, a man, bigender- it's a lot of questions. Legitimate questions.

And I think for JK, seeing Jimin behave like the rest of BTS with the skinship towards him was equally confusing. So often he would shy away from it. Jk was going through puberty, everything was heightened for him.

It's also important to consider the possibility that, if JK was LGBTQ plus that he was going to hide it and not come out to his bandmates for as long as he worked with them- because it's none of their business first and foremost but also because it would have affected their attitudes towards him.

I mean look at the fear and panic with which they greet Jikook when Jikook breath anywhere near eachother in public spaces- not to call them out or anything but I don't think if they were straight that they were going to treat them same. I mean Taejin is as wild as Jikook but.... sigh.

So then going on to catch feelings for one of such said band mates who gives off queer vibes, he had better be sure about him before coming out to him and confessing to him lest he risked his career and friendship with him.

If Jimin wasn't LGBTQ plus it would have been cruel of him to act the way he does with JK honestly. For instance Joking about marriage knowing full well the fight LGBTG plus couple have to put up to have this basic human right- of course JK would yeet himself out of that conversation. I'm talking about that Jikook Vlive and all the time JK has squeezed his face disgruntledly when Jimin has asked him to have his kids- like why Jimin!

Jimin I feel because he is Bi whatever doesn't take this gay business seriously at all. If you've ever dated a bisexual you'd know the feeling. He is my bias and I love him but God he frustrates me for Jk honestly.

What annoys me most is I know how deep he is into JK. Like I've never seen a man so in love with another man in my entire queer life! Like shut up whippidy whipped ass we saw your face at Manila. You like that man. You like him.

Let JK put up a front and you'll see this tactless homegirl descending into that space we all hate so much and embarrassing himself left right left clinging on to JK seeking validation and reassurance- like can you be serious in your life for once Park Jimin. 😒

Anywho, I went off on a tangent there. Sorry.

But yes, this is another aspect of their dynamic I feel most people get twisted. Jimin enjoys JK's expressions of interest in him- however way he does it. Jk enjoys it too when Jimin shows him he wants him. Remember magic shop? Show me, I'll show you? And that line JK sang to Jimin that made Jimin nervous on Live with VMin? Yea...

They love each other and they love when the other is showing and expressing their love. Hell, isn't that why they are constantly trying to find creative ways to communicate their love? 5/8, love letters punctuated with sorries? Chileee.

Could Jimin's look be a contributing factor to JK liking him? Let me put it this way. People are attracted to people for a plethora of reasons, physical appearance being one of them.

Looks attract people, emotional connection binds them and make them stay. I have said this time and again JK is attracted to all of Jimin-looks, everything. When asked which part of of Jimin he liked most he put all of Jimin as the answer.

With regards to JM's weight, I think the tears he shed on stage during the performance of I Need You says it all. Jimin was killing himself and it was killing JK. Jimin wasn't doing all that out of self love much less for the love of JK.

He was doing all that because he wanted to be an Idol in every sense of the word. He was killing himself for his career. A career JK was once willing to walk away from and JM advised him to stay.

Jk defies the dictates of his career with the piercings and tattoos and gay pubs- the emphasis is mine. Y'all think he is about to be demanding of his life partner to look like what now? Chileee.

And when JK was starving himself and losing weight who was it that brought him down that ledge? Jimin. If it was a positive thing I thing he would have encouraged him.

Jk allegedly called Jimin his Mochi in that infamous graduation night track video. Did you see his reaction to when James Corden called Jimin Mochi? Baby fat cheeked Jimin was cute not ugly. And even if you think he was, JK still found that attractive. Jimin could be looking like my Aunt Becky and Jk would still fuck him.

Have you seen JK freeze frame to take snapshot photos of Jimin? It's almost always pictures of Jimin looking like the wicked witch of the west. He loves him some park Jimin memes. Loves that man to death.

How many times have he said Jimin looks beautiful without makeup? Remember the Vlive Jimin didn't want to be on camera because he didn't have makeup on? What did JK say?

Jk isn't a shallow person you know. He really isn't. He doesn't strike me as the kind at all. Questions like these presupposes that JK is a vain shallow person who only likes people for their looks. Don't get me wrong, it's a valid question, one that I'm happy to discuss but it also exposes the biases against JK and indirectly, Jimin.

Do you feel JK is shallow? I find a lot of people do and it breaks my heart.

Have you heard any of his songs? His GCFs?

He barely idolizes his subject matter's looks and appearances. You gave me the best of you, so I'll give you the best of me. What I found in you is real. That's doesn't sound shallow to me.

They work in a highly competitive and highly vainglorious environment. I think they know more than anything the dangers of vanity- it's fleeting. They put themselves through so much to appease the vanity matrics, to subject people they love through the same.

I've talked about how because JM comes from a demanding home and work environment that acceptance is one key aspect of his love language. He wants a person who loves him for who he is and accepts him without placing expectations on him.

If JK was this shallow JM wouldn't honestly have found him attractive much less love him to begin with. He wouldn't have found fulfillment and nourishment from JK. He loves JK because JK's values and upbringing makes him the perfect person for him to trust himself fully to.

Besides, for JK to be only attracted to JM because he glowed up, he himself must have been a ten from the onset which he wasn't let's be honest- no shade to him but he wasn't exactly packing now was he?

BTS are pretty but they've all undergone hefty transformations throughout the years, magic foreheads and all. So if you wonder if Jimin's glow up contributes to JK liking him, then you'd have to wonder if Jk glowing up also contributed to Jimin finding him attractive- it's a vicious cycle.

As for JK ranking Jimin last... did he ever rank himself first? No. He ranked Jimin last and himself second to last consistently. If he found Jimin unattractive he certainly found himself as equally unattractive only one step above Jimin.

I honestly think he was just teasing Jimin. He loves teasing Jimin because it's how he flirts with him. It's just the masculine energy in him I guess. V does this too when he flirts with Jimin. He teases him about his pinky, his Mochi cheeks and his glow up- Iland anyone?

Why y'all think JK looked away sharp when JM dropped to the floor?? He recognized what V was doing- don't mind me. I'm trolling. Lol. But deadass.

Jimin teases JK too by acting like he is available most times. It's the feminine energy in him. Girls like to tease their crush by amplifying their sex appeal. What better way to amp up your sex appeal than by having other people show interest in you? Jimin is a tease. Bless him.

Besides, when JK ranked Jimin first in looks he ranked himself last. I hope y'all don't think it's because he has low self esteem?

He ranked himself and Jimin last because he wanted to humble himself and by extension Jimin because he sees himself as Jimin's equal and as such recognizes their place as the youngest within the group. As he has explained, as the youngest, he places everyone else above him.

I honestly don't think Jungkook had always been interested in Jimin. But somewhere along the line while he came to terms with his own sexuality he began developing feelings for Jimin. His glow up had nothing to do with it. In my opinion.

I think Jimin caught him off guard? It's that red string serendipity destiny voodoo working its magic that orchestrating their love. In my opinion.

I don't think either of Jikook went searching for this love thingy either as I keep saying. It wasn't planned, it wasn't foreseen, it just happened to both of them but at a different pace.

I hope this helps?

Signed,

GOLDY

#jikook #jikook theories #kookmin analysis #kookmin #kookmintheories #jikook analysis #jikook scenarios #jikooktheories #Ask response #ask goldy #GOLDY #nightswithkookmin

[spencers-renaissance]

turns out that I need you now (much more than you need me)

Summary: Spencer is suffering in silence and it's only made worse when the team messes up and makes him feel even more hurt and insecure. When Hotch goes to check on him, though, things start to look up.

Tags: hurt/comfort, hurt!spencer, getting together, depression, anxiety, happy ending

Pairings: Hotch x Reid

Word Count: 3.5k

Read on AO3

The crushing pit of loneliness deep inside Spencer’s tummy never really seems to leave, the kind that makes his breath snag and his heart rate speed up just a little. He’s surrounded by people who love him, he knows that, but it doesn’t stop the heartache from consuming him; sometimes it only exacerbates it. When he sees JJ and Emily share a private joke at the coffee machine or Derek and Hotch clap each other on the back with familiar smiles on their faces, it reminds him just how removed he is. The BAU would die for him, he knows that. He’s just not sure they’d live for him.

Sometimes he thinks they notice. When Rossi shoots him a concerned look when he’s a little too quiet on the jet or Alex sits with him for just a bit too long after a case, he thinks you’re so close. You’re nearly there. But then Rossi turns to look out the window and Alex is needed somewhere else, and he’s on the sidelines again.

It’s not like it’s new, either. He’s always been a messy melting pot of insecurities and deep feelings of sadness that never fully go away, but he can’t lie to himself. Ever since the meeting last Tuesday in the briefing room, it’s been all-consuming.

He knows they hadn’t meant to, and they’d probably be horrified if they knew how much it had affected him, but the entire interaction had felt like a knife slicing cold and slow under his skin. The case had intrigued him more than others had done recently and it had been a nice feeling, being excited about the work again, so he’d told them about a study one of his colleagues had conducted during his second Ph.D. and how he’d assisted, and Derek rolled his eyes. JJ and Emily stifled a mocking smile. Rossi had tried not to laugh at the girls while Penelope had looked mildly annoyed he’d derailed her briefing. Alex, to her credit, had looked much more pissed off at their reactions than his tangent, but it was Hotch who was the nail in the coffin.

“Reid, please,” he’d frowned disapprovingly, tone harsh as his words slammed into him. “You need to be quiet. Derailing these briefings with stupid and unhelpful tangents is unprofessional and they need to stop. Garcia.” He indicated for her to continue and she’d looked at him gratefully as they all turned their attention back to the screen.

Spencer’s life, really, was a lucky dip of humiliating moments that chipped away at his confidence and sense of self-worth, but this one felt like it took the cake. The feelings that had plagued him for almost a decade throughout his career alongside these people finally felt validated, and it wasn’t even as earth-shattering as he’d expected. There was no drama, no theatrics. Everyone simply turned away while the bottom of his stomach collapsed and his breathing snagged. Even Hotch, the man he’d loved since he joined the BAU, the man who had always been protective of him, looking out for his feelings, his well-being, everything. Even Hotch couldn’t stand him anymore.

He’d worked the case fine, of course. Despite what Hotch had told him, he knew he could be professional when it was needed and he wasn’t about to compromise that. So he offered his expertise when required and kept his tangents in check, making sure to never relax in case the real Spencer spilled out and he started rambling again. It had taken a long time for him to be comfortable enough to let that side of him reveal itself to the team, and it was excruciatingly painful to pack it back away, lock it up, and pretend to be the person he’d tried to be for the majority of his life.

The unsub was apprehended, which gave him a small jump of excitement and satisfaction for a moment before the reality of the situation set back in and he was brought back down to earth. Alex sat next to him on the jet, placing a reassuring hand on his forearm for a second before offering a smile and turning to her crossword. His arm burned with the need to throw himself at her for a much-needed hug, touch-starvation settling deeply into his bones. Restraint felt painful.

The case is over now, though. There’s no adrenaline rush to keep him going, no puzzle motivating him anymore. He’s trapped at his desk, sat next to Derek and Emily’s banter and it feels like highschool again, making himself as small as possible while he prayed for no one to notice him, listening to everyone having a good time. The paperwork occupies him for a little while, but it isn’t long before he’s pulling out files to consult remotely on cases and begging Hotch for a little extra to do.

If he keeps his brain busy, his broken heart won’t weigh him down so much, he rationalises, but even the trip to the coffee machine feels like dragging himself up a mountain. He feels completely oblivious to his surroundings; like he’s stuck in a sea of molasses and everyone around him is speaking in slow-motion, blurring in comparison to the weight of everything he’s feeling.

It only becomes a problem the Wednesday after the meeting, when he finds that he just cannot get out of bed. He’s been on autopilot for at least a week, probably a lot longer than that if he’s honest with himself, and it’s like that function’s just… stopped working. He can’t get up and grab a banana before jumping in the shower and shaving, shrugging on his suit and drinking his first coffee of the day, he can’t even find the willpower to roll over in bed.

Eventually, his alarm turns itself off and he closes his eyes and goes back to sleep.

★

“Reid? Reid, can you hear me?”

The world gently comes back into focus as he concentrates on the voice coming from behind him, and the first thing he notices is it’s dark outside; somehow the entire day managed to pass him by without him realising. The second thing he notices is how absolutely ravenous he is. Stirring slowly, he eventually rolls over, only to see Hotch crouching by his bed, still in his slightly rumpled suit, though he’s not wearing a tie.

“Hotch?” he questions, sounding as baffled as he feels. Seriously, what happened to make him sleep the day away only to wake up to his boss calling his name? He feels like he should sit up and make himself presentable, but he simply doesn’t have the energy and his bed is far too warm for him to have any desire to unfurl himself from the covers.

“How are you feeling, Spencer?” Hotch replies, voice soft and careful, and that gets his attention. Hotch rarely calls him Spencer and he’s using the voice he talks to Jack or frightened victims with, not him, never him. He meets Hotch’s eyes for the first time, and they’re filled with an emotion he hasn’t seen before, one Hotch has clearly been withholding from him, but all he wants to do is melt into it, sink into the warmth and gentleness he knows will welcome him.

Still, he can’t find the motivation to question anything that’s happening, instead burying deeper down under his duvet and sighing softly. “Tired,” he mumbles eventually, but he realises something else, too, and decides to admit it. What’s the worst that could happen at this point? “Sad.”

Hotch is quiet for a short moment before he replies. “Have you eaten anything today?”

“Don’t think so,” Spencer murmurs, letting his eyes droop closed again.

“I came because I was worried about you,” Hotch says soothingly, answering the question Spencer’s been too tired to ask. “You didn’t show up for work today but we were flat out with a local case all day so I couldn’t come and check on you until now. What’s going on, Spencer? Why didn’t you come in today, or at least call me?”

He has to wait a moment to muster the energy, but eventually, Spencer sits up slightly, leaning against the pillow and the headboard, and meets Hotch’s eyes again. Thinking about what he’s about to say -- what he’s about to admit to somebody else for the first time -- makes him tear up a little, the reminder of the pain he’s been in for years aching deep and raw. “The simple answer is I’m exhausted, Hotch,” he replies, voice thick and eyes droopy. “I’m mentally and physically exhausted and I’m sad, and lonely, and afraid and I feel like I’ll never be happy, I feel like an outsider, the odd one out, and I’m done, I just cannot keep going like this, it’s impossible. And this morning I woke up and I just couldn’t will my body to get out of bed. Not caring about the consequences, I turned my alarm off and fell back to sleep.”

He’d looked away during his confession, but when he looks back at Hotch, he sees that his own eyes aren’t the only ones watering. “Spencer,” he starts, but his voice catches and he has to take a moment to compose himself. “Why didn’t you say something? You could have told me, I-- I would have helped you.” Spencer’s seriously taken aback by the scene in front of him: Hotch is crouched on his bedroom floor, looking genuinely destroyed because of some stupid emotions he’s been feeling?

“No, no. This is my own battle, I don’t deserve your help,” Spencer refutes, defeated. He sinks lower into the comfort of his mattress. “You don’t really want to help me anyway, I’m just a member of the team and you know you can’t have me lacking. I’m an obligation.” He spits the last word out as he closes his eyes against the emotional pain twisting harshly in his stomach.

“Spencer, that’s not how it is at all,” Hotch replies gently. “First and foremost, you’re my friend, and I’d do anything for you, especially anything to help and protect you. That’s how the entire team sees you--”

“You don’t have to lie,” Spencer cuts him off. “I know I’m irritating and the only reason I haven’t been booted off yet is my ability to read quickly and remember important facts. Except that’s the reason you guys resent me: I’m annoying, I go off on tangents, and I’m too clever for my own good. Too socially awkward to fit in, I know it.”

“Spence, is this about what happened last week?” Hotch ventures carefully, and Spencer flinches. “I’ve been meaning to apologise for that all week but there was no good moment, and truthfully I was ashamed. It was an inexcusable way to treat you and handle the situation, I’m so very sorry. I know that it probably made you feel small and scolded, like an outcast, exacerbating those feelings, but that wasn’t my intention, you have to realise that. I was tired, I’d been up all night with Jack who had the stomach flu, and with how time-sensitive the case was combined with the pressure coming from above, I was stressed and on edge. It wasn’t your fault, I’m the one in the wrong here.”

That makes him look up, searching Hotch’s face for signs of insincerity. “You were right though,” he denies, but his voice is weaker, wavering. “Besides, it wasn’t just you, it was everybody.”

“I’m sure that they’d feel awful if they knew how they made you feel, but nobody on this team would ever want to make you sad or feel left out, and they certainly wouldn’t want you to feel ashamed of who you are, or your incredible talents,” Hotch responds, firm and insistent. He reaches out to take Spencer’s hand. “You are so deeply loved by all of us, Spence, I wish you’d believe that.”

He looks away at that, fiddling with the fabric of the duvet cover. “Really?” he asks, hopefully. He finds it hard to believe, but Hotch looks so sincere and his voice sounds truthful. Plus, Hotch doesn’t make a habit out of lying.

“Really,” he confirms, with that small, fond smile that only graces his face on rare occasions and makes Spencer’s insides fuzzy. “Now, here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to fetch us some dinner and we’ll eat it together on the couch, and then tomorrow I’m going to make a doctors’ appointment for you, okay? I know that that incident last week might have triggered this, but clearly, there are some serious underlying concerns if it was able to impact you so severely and it would make me feel better to know that you’d seen a medical professional, alright?”

“Okay,” Spencer nods, smiling back at the warmth in Hotch’s eyes.

★

Hotch dashes out to pick up a sharing platter with an excessive amount of sides from a Lebanese restaurant Spencer had mentioned he loved ages ago and helps him out to the sofa in his cosy apartment when he gets back. He wraps him up in the fluffy blanket he keeps on the arm of the sofa and hands him a plate filled with delicious food. His actions are almost loving, Spencer thinks as Hotch flicks the TV on to the history channel, knowing that it’s the only thing he’ll really watch, but he quickly quells those thoughts. Hoping is pointless.

“Is that alright, Spencer?” he asks softly, as he sits on the opposite end of the sofa and begins to tuck into his similarly loaded plate of food.

“Perfect,” Spencer smiles, feeling safe and content for the first time in weeks. Having Hotch so close to him feels like a tether to the rest of the world, a grounding force stopping him from floating away.

“Good.”

They watch the TV quietly, appreciating each others’ presence in a soft, familiar kind of way. It’s halfway through the program they’re watching about industrialisation when their plates are empty and resting on the coffee table that Spencer speaks up. “Did you know that the progression of technology really isn’t as linear as we might expect? Ancient civilisations simply invented the technology they needed; they weren’t necessarily primitive just because they didn’t have something that we now deem as essential. The Inca, for example, did have wheels, but they used them for short distances, not for long-distance transportation because of their mountainous terrain. Instead, they had complex road systems that they navigated with pack animals and they built suspension bridges long before Europeans because it was the technology they required. Egyptians never even bothered with the wheel, because their terrain was full of sand; instead, they were excellent at building boats. Technology is invented, lost, invented again all over the world.”

He blushes a little when he finishes his explanation, and looks over at Hotch properly, surprised at the expression on his face. “You’re brilliant, you know that Spencer?” he says fondly, looking genuinely in awe of the man in front of him.

“No,” Spencer tries to dismiss him, “I’m really not, it’s just what I was bor--”

He’s abruptly cut off when Hotch surges forward, crossing the small amount of distance between them on the sofa quickly, capturing his surprised, parted lips with his own. Hotch brings his hand up to rest firmly on Spencer’s jaw, caressing his thumb gently across his cheekbone as he kisses Spencer with a fervent passion he’s never experienced anyone feel for him before.

Spencer’s wide eyes meet Hotch’s melting ones as they pull gently away. “I mean it,” Hotch says softly, running his thumb over Spencer’s bottom lip. “You’re incredible, and I can’t get enough of you.” He presses another chaste kiss to his lips as if to prove he means what he says.

“I’ve been waiting for this for a long time, Hotch, you have no idea,” Spencer says breathily, staring up at him in awe as he tries to appear more put together than his mushy insides will allow.

“Me too,” he laughs softly, warming Spencer’s heart even more. “But if this is going to work, you’re going to have to stop calling me Hotch.”

“Deal,” Spencer giggles, pushing away his blanket in favour of straddling his legs and pressing another loving kiss to his lips. “Aaron.”

“God, I love the way my name sounds dripping from those lips,” he groans, gripping his waist gently, rubbing his thumbs over his stomach as he leans up to kiss Spencer again.

They kiss quietly on the sofa with the history channel playing in the background for a while, losing track of time as they melt into one another. Eventually, though, Spencer gets tired, shifting off Aaron’s lap to sit next to him, resting his head on his chest. Aaron gets the hint and wraps a protective arm around his waist, pulling him as close as possible. “I’m sorry you’ve had such a rough time, Spencer,” he whispers into his hair. “As long as you want me here, though, I promise I’ll do everything I can to prevent you from feeling like that again.”

“I know,” Spencer whispers back, drawing comfort from the musk of Aaron’s cologne and the subtle scent of sweat lingering behind it. “Just being like this makes me feel safe, though. Less alone.”

“I’m glad, sweetheart.”

Spencer nearly squeaks at that, face flushing dark red. “Sweetheart?” he asks, embarrassed.

“Do you not like it? I’m sorry Spencer, I don’t have to call you anything other than your name.”

“No, no,” he rushes to clarify. “I like it, I really do, you just surprised me, is all.”

“Good,” Aaron says, and Spencer can hear the fond smile in his voice.

“Will you,” Spencer starts shyly, before clearing his throat. “Will you stay tonight? I don’t want you to go, I want the company.”

“Of course, sweetheart. Whatever you need,” he says comfortingly, rubbing his hand gently across the span of his tummy.

It’s the best Spencer’s slept in months probably, wrapped up safely in Aaron’s arms. The bed is warm and toasty and he feels genuinely Not Alone, like he has someone in his corner. A night of comfortable and unbroken sleep is exactly what he needs and it’s what Aaron’s comforting presence and protective embrace gives him.

★

Luckily the FBI’s health insurance gets him the therapy he needs and some anti-anxiety medication which together slowly starts to improve his self-esteem and perception of those around him. Aaron’s steady support doesn’t hurt either, always there to give him a cuddle and remind him of all the good in him and others, how loved he is and how he’ll never have to be alone again, not if he doesn’t want to be.

Gradually, Spencer realises that the looks JJ and Emily shoot one another are fond; they both love his little tangents and are fondly amused by them. Spencer had never noticed the smile on his face when Derek rolls his eyes, simply teasing him in the same way he does when he ruffles his hair and calls him ‘pretty boy’ on the way to the kitchen. His entire perception of how others saw him had been completely skewed by his mind, and he was slowly unlearning those immediate assumptions.

And if it ever did go too far, he had Aaron to glare at the offending party, and squeeze his hand comfortingly under the table, giving him a cuddle and holding him protectively as soon as they were in private.

Coincidentally, it’s exactly that ritual that gets them figured out a few months later. A local police officer had been pretty awful to him when Spencer was simply trying to explain how they’d come to a certain conclusion about an aspect of an unsub’s profile. Aaron takes Spencer with him to grab some lunch for the team and as soon as they get out of the SUV and step into the parking lot of the local sandwich shop, he pulls him close and tells him how much he loves him.

They do not see Derek and Emily coming out of the shop with bags of food in their hands having had the same idea as them, mouths open until they pull away and it is much too late. Their sworn secrecy does not last long, not that they’d really expected it to, and soon the entire team is in a perpetual state of teasing. Spencer sort of loves it, though, and Aaron will put up with the type of intrusion into his private life that he usually resents if it makes Spencer smile as wide as it does when Derek or JJ make an off-handed comment about how gone for him Aaron is.

Slowly, Spencer feels that empty pit of loneliness fill back up, the aching sadness eases when he has so many hands willing to help him carry the burden. The happy ending he’d been craving for so long, the ending he’d written off as unattainable and stupid to wish for, he finally had in his hands, and he wasn’t about to let it go anytime soon.

Yes, Emily and Alex were never officially in a season together but shhh I’m writing I can do what I want.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds writing #spencer reid #aaron hotchner #hotch #hotch x reid #my writing #hotchreid

[manjuhitorie]

High Gain - Shinoda’s Hitori-Atelier blog posts - REAMP Digest volume 2

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Unlike curved edge, which we were pulling our hair out over...

This song went from nothing to something in a matter of moments, no joke. If I remember correctly it took about one day to finish the whole thing, lyrics included. It was done in a flash So I can’t really find much to talk about.

We’ve only one guitar now so Making two-edged riffs like we did before is out of the realm of possibility So I toiled to make a riff with oomph to it with just my lone guitar. So there’s actually three different recordings overlapping in there, I had to make efforts to veil the number of guitars. During the ooh~ oooh~ part of the outro there’s even an acoustic guitar there as well. Did y’all notice? For concerts I think I’m gonna find some sort of edgy fuzz pedal for this song. 

The guitar solo that pops in for a moment in the second part of the song wasn’t actually supposed to be the real take. I just happened to play so so gosh damn well on a random take so we just went with it. I played so well that you’d almost think I was on drugs or something.

Reviews are raving over the bass, When the recording of the bass part was nearing completion, me or our engineer Hirai-san (I can’t remember which) proposed “How about ygarshy tries playing a free style full one-take?”. ygarshy playing however he pleases is a sight to behold, because each and every phrase he pumped up was way overpowered. My fear of him grows stronger. So we cut and paste the especially sick portions of ygarshy’s free style take, and with that the bass part was complete.

While I think Yumao was all excited that the new issue snare he got was a perfect match for the song or something. I’m happy for him.

That reminds me... There’s tons of different ways to eat food, and the ‘best way’ to eat it varies from person to person. Sometimes the people in charge of the food can be anal about that, forceful even, and even get fucking pissed if you don’t follow suit. Like if they say ‘start from the soup’. This kinda thing applies to music as well, as the ‘best way’ to listen to music varies from person to person. Be it that you need to be in a certain situation or mood, or whether you’re alone or drunk or in a club or not. Or maybe it needs to be high resolution or on the radio or from a tape recorder or maybe you built your own sound system. The possibilities are endless. If you want to change the frequency of something then you can just equalize it yourself. Restaurants give you condiments and allow you to boost the flavor in the same matter.

Then of course there’s the option of concerts. Everyone gets to talk about stuff like ‘That thing in that concert was insane, nothing can beat that thing from back then, I was there when the best take of that thing happened.’ etc. Then even the option of performing it yourself can be true too. In a way we Hitorie ourselves may be the ones who get to chow down on Hitorie’s music in the best way possible. I’m just sayin’

Just recently I found out my very own ‘best way’ to listen to “loveless”, a song by “my bloody valentine(maibura for short), a band I’ve respected for years now. So I thought I’d share it with y’all.

I need to listen to it on a volume so loud that my headphones are on the verge of exploding. The key word here is headphones. The sound pressure of their entire album is set fairly low, so compared to other modern music the monotony of the beat and tone + the feebleness of the sound pressure is borderline unpermittable in the world’s current climate. So it’s all about blasting those tedious tangents of the song into your ears at a volume high enough to blow you away.

Contrary to my bloody valentines’ chill and gloomy demeanor, their ideas on concerts are pretty damn violent ones. They perform at a volume way louder than your standard concert, to the point that they even hand out earplugs. Back when I first saw them in 2008 it was at the Fujirock festival, which is outdoors, so I didn’t get a real sense for the level of noise. So after that when I saw their own concerts at venues and indoor events I learned that their volume level is dangerously off the rail.

Then it hit me... ‘Isn’t this the same as the ‘Start from the soup’ thing?! Isn’t this like a ‘you gotta listen to it at a volume loud enough to make you go deaf' thing?! So isn’t like my bloody valentine is telling us that this is the best most tasty way to listen to it!?’ And without a moment to lose I flung my headphones onto my head and blasted ‘loveless’.

Wow. This is somethin’ else. It’s a whole new ‘loveless’. This whole album is tuned in a way that exudes ‘You fool- you don’t listen to this with your ears, you listen with your brain’ energy. The intro of the second track ‘loomer’ With enough heavy fuzz and bass to send your whole fucking head spinning. Their classic song ‘when you sleep’ too has these centralized scratchy distorted strokes and... I never knew how much they could eat away at your brain until now.

My headphones are vibrating so much that the sound quality is taking a dump but that somehow makes it all the more pleasing.   All along I had been clueless as to what ‘my bloody valentine’ are really all about.... Now, this 2021, I’m a firm believer in the power of ‘my bloody valentine’, the weight of my foolishness and the ringing in my ears have shown me the truth.

Back to High Gain though. I just wanted to say that you should blast this song at max volume, though Shinoda here has shamefully not tried it himself yet. This is a HIGHly serious matter. It’s true that we made REAMP before I ever even experienced the glory of the loud ‘loveless’, and we do always make music with the idea of a pure raw banger in mind so, We didn’t design it to be listened to at an unholy volume or anything. Now I’m worried that it’s going to just sound like shit so, I gotta take the punch myself first. I thought as I blasted High Gain, same as loveless, loud enough to make a kitten curl. Aaaaghh

Ooooohh

Yeah!

This is fantastic!!!!!!!

This is the shit!!!!!!! This is fine! Try it for yourself!!!!!!! Warning: loud volumes pose a high risk of damaging your ears. Normally I would not recommend you try this at home. Attempt at your own risk.

#REAMP #Hitorie #REAMP Digest #long post #SND REAMP Blog