#i was more comfortable in the desert with the bears then this

[theskeletoninthegarden]

Sleeping with the door open for once and my brain is bullying me

#it's just like #what would it look and sound like if this humanoid Creature went running by the door? #giggling up a storm? #I've got a good imagination #i can hear the slap of their bare feet on the cold wooden floor #im not scared #just vaguely annoyed and uncomfortable #i was more comfortable in the desert with the bears then this

[juuuulez]

📰 | dessert.

i can imagine being woken up at ridiculous hours because carmen needs you to try a dish…anyway that’s what this is + domesticity + husband carmy + soft pregnancy vibes.

short and sweet.

You’re lying half-asleep in bed, vaguely tethered to reality by the distant clanging of pots and pans. It isn’t enough to fully wake you, too comfortable buried under the thick blankets, having finally found the perfect position where your stomach doesn’t seem to get in the way.

Which, lately, it’s always in the way.

The door creaks open, and Carmen’s footsteps are quiet, feather-light. He sits down at the edge of the bed, one hand nudging your shoulder, the other guiding a spoon into a little dish he sits on his lap.

The movement rouses you just enough, gaining the smallest inkling of consciousness. It’s in front of your face and pressing against your lips before the awareness can fully set in, velvety chocolate coating your tongue. The taste is thick, yet not overwhelming, somehow both dense and light at the same time. Maybe some sort of mousse.

“That’s.. yeah, ‘s good..” You mumble, eyes blinking open blearily to twist slightly on the bed, moving to face him. The movement causes your shirt to ride up, not bothering to tug it down, despite the slight chill that spreads over your stomach.

Carmen’s hand finds the edge of the duvet, pulling it to cover your body properly. “Good?” He echos. “Just good? C’mon, baby. Gotta give me a bit more than that.”

You suck in a breath, resisting the temptation to fall back asleep, which has amplified now that he’s finally next to you. It has to be around 1am, at this point. Usually, the baby keeps you up, kicking incessantly, but it seems the little bear has finally quietened down. Not Carmy, though.

“I dunno, Carm. I like it,” You sigh, eyes fluttering closed. “It’s good.”

Without your gaze on him, Carmen looks down at the dish, staring into the ceramic bowl like it’s his worst enemy. About a thousand things run through his mind, all with the primary focus being perfecting the desert.

“Yeah, okay..” He’s resigned, already making a move to try and stand. The motion causes you to stir again, a hand blindly fumbling with his wrist to pull it back in.

“No, don’t take it away. I’m not done.” You protest.

The spoon has already been caught between your fingers, and Carmen doesn’t have it in him to stop you. It penetrates the light mixture with ease, scooping another mouthful of the light mousse between your lips.

“It’s not right,” Carmen would say, sounding so utterly defeated. “You don’t have to eat it.”

You simply shrug, having already gone back for the last little piece. “I wanna eat it. I’m hungry.”

The smile threatens to return to Carmy’s face. With the renovations underway, he’s been missing his time in the kitchen. So, he brings it home. Working endlessly on new recipes, testing menu variations, anything to keep his mind running. Maybe the notion of having a child is starting to freak him out a little, so the work serves as a distraction.

“Hungry?” He repeats, “Weren’t you just asleep?”

“Well, I’m awake now. Might as well eat.

It’s a sound argument, and Carmen knows not to push it. He’s just lucky that you’re always so willing to put up with him like this. So, he puts the empty dish down, taking the spoon and laying it on the bedside counter.

He’ll stroke your hair while you chew the last mouthful, your eyes coming to a soft close. There’s some chocolate on your lip, which Carmen swipes off with his thumb, before sucking the digit into his mouth. It doesn’t taste that bad.

“I’ll join you soon.” He promises, leaning down to place a chaste kiss to the same spot. You give a small grunt in response, wanting to persuade him otherwise, but not having the energy to do so.

You’ve already melted back into the pillow, happy and sated with the taste of chocolate on your tongue.

#carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x reader #the bear fx #the bear x you #carmen berzatto

[marc-spectorr]

𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒐𝒓 𝒔𝒘𝒊𝒎

pairing: duke leto atreides x fem!reader

summary: It's the night before your wedding to Duke Leto Atreides and he finds you struck by panic about your future in Caladan.

warnings: 3.1k wc. arranged marriage, panic attack, anxiety, mentions of conceiving. my limited dune-lore knowledge. soft!leto.

a/n: first leto fic ahhh!! i may or may not write more parts to this in the future. i had so many ideas but if i wrote them all in one fic, it would be a long one (not to mention it would take 1001 years to finish and post). anyway, feedback is very much appreciated! hope you enjoy :)

—

Caladan.

There is a beauty to it that you cannot deny. It's captivating from the very first glance. An indescribable sight, unparalleled to anywhere else in the universe.

Of all the worlds you could be in at this moment, a part of you is glad it's Caladan. In spite of the circumstances that brought you here, you try to be grateful for it. Surely, there are worse places to live on than this.

Here, the ocean is vast, stretching far beyond the starlit horizon. A fresh breeze carries the salty scent of the water towards you. It tickles your skin as if it were a feather, the light coolness sending goosebumps along your arms. You tug your shawl more closely around your shoulders.

It is far from the hot desert landscape you know and love. Despite its recent hardships, that planet was once home to you. It still is. You wonder how long it will be before you consider Caladan as such. It's been one week since your arrival, and you're in a period of adjustment, which in truth, has not been too easy.

The beach is empty, unsurprising as the moon has moved far past its highest point in the sky. You can't sleep. You haven't for so long. Similar to all the nights prior, you had tossed and turned endlessly under silken sheets before deciding to go for a walk. You found no comfort in your bed despite the mattress beneath you being the softest there ever was.

It could be the chambers themselves, surrounded by four dark walls that are still very much foreign to you. You must get used to it, you remind yourself. In fact, it's more than just a room that you must get used to.

Tomorrow, your life will change more than it already has when you moved to Caladan.

Tomorrow is the wedding—your wedding. Many esteemed members of the Great Houses will be in attendance, alongside your closest family and friends, who are now worlds away from you. They will all be present to witness you exchange vows with Duke Leto Atreides, a man you barely know.

You exhale a deep, long sigh and draw your knees under your chin. Gentle waves lap onto the shore, the white foam almost reaching your toes before ebbing away. You watch in comfortable silence, the hypnotic rhythm of the waves creating a sense of calm.

Unwittingly, your mind combs through recent events. You spent plenty of these last few days surrounded by those more interested in your upcoming nuptials than you are. You've grown weary of feigning smiles every second in their company, of pretending to be okay when you are far from it.

You feel alone. You are alone.

It’s a sacrifice—leaving behind the life you had to help your struggling home world. Things are changing faster than the time you have to process them. But you can't afford to wait—the sooner you marry Leto, the sooner your father and your people's burdens will go away.

You are doing the right thing. The noble thing. It's what you were raised to do. The last thing you wish is to be seen as a disappointment.

Still, it doesn't mean you have your worries and doubts. You lack experience, having never courted someone before. You question whether or not you would be fit to be a wife to the stranger who is the Duke of Caladan. You're well aware of the responsibilities you would have to uphold, the expectation that one day you will need to bear him an heir…

You shut your eyes, trying to push past the feeling of your heart starting to pick up and thud heavily against your ribs. But the pit of anxiety gnawing at your stomach grows and grows, and it's a losing battle. Not even the ocean waves that mesmerized you moments ago could distract you from the mounting panic inside.

Your thoughts batter you from within like a storm raging out of control. The pressure and expectations others have on you— that you have on yourself— can't be stopped. 

They're too loud; they refuse to be ignored this time around.

Your body trembles, your breaths are short and shallow, and it feels like you are drowning; you're helplessly caught in a dangerous current that pulls you under the water. The weight in your chest drags you down and deeper, sinking and sinking until you hit the very bottom of the depths of your own mind, deprived of any air, any light.

It's only until a voice calls out your name over and over again that you resurface. Warm, gentle hands urge you to sit right back up, and you don't have it in you to fight against them. You don't remember curling up on your side, wound in a tight little ball, nearly burrowing yourself into the sand bed as if wanting to be swallowed whole.

"Breathe, darling... Listen to my voice and just breathe, alright? One... two... three..."

You can't see him, not through the hot, stinging tears obscuring your eyes. But you can hear him. His voice's hazy, soft lull is strangely familiar, yet you cannot place whose it is.

He coaxes you repeatedly, and you focus on his words as if they are your one and only lifeline—as if they are the calming waves reaching the shoreline. 

You do as he says. You breathe.

"One... two... three... That's it, my lady. Deep breaths for me, and again— one... two... three... Good girl, and again. Breathe..."

You're unsure how long has passed by the time your heart slows, and your breathing evens out. Your blurred vision clears once your tears have settled, and your eyes widen when you recognize the face before you.

Duke Leto Atreides kneels beside you, dressed in a manner you have never seen him in. He has on a loose white shirt and dark lounge bottoms, his graying head of curls mussed by the wind blowing past.

You're uncertain why he's at the beach alone at this late hour despite being seemingly ready for bed. Perhaps concerned guards informed him of your wandering about the castle in the dead of night. Did he come all this way in search of you?

Leto’s dark eyes search your face for the reason of your distress. Embarrassment sweeps over your cheeks— you cannot imagine how much of a pitiful mess you look. God, what if you've ruined it? What if seeing you this way, so weak, and frightened, and pathetic, has Leto wishing to rescind his agreement to marry you? What if, what if—

"Hey, shh… Relax. There is no need to fret," Leto soothes. He must have seen the worry in your eyes, but instead of ridicule as you anticipated, he looks at you with concern.

You cast your gaze down, catching sight of your hand in his. He hasn't let go of it since finding you, and when he notices your muscles tense up from the anxiety that seizes your body once more, he squeezes.

Leto squeezes your hand firmly but nowhere near the point of pain. His words are a quiet murmur in your ears. "Don't go back there, darling. Stay here, on this beach. Squeeze my hand back so I know you're here with me. Can you do that for me, please?"

With his other hand, Leto places a finger under your chin to tip it upwards, meeting your eyes. Again, he holds your hand tightly and brushes his thumb over your knuckles. You concentrate on him, matching your breaths to his. The tension starts to slip away bit by bit, and when it does, you finally squeeze his hand back.

"There you go. Just breathe, you're alright," Leto murmurs with a small smile. It dawns on you how close he is when the sound of the ocean becomes second to his voice. "Better?"

You swallow, then nod following a brief pause, not trusting yourself to speak.

Moving slowly so as not to startle you, Leto picks up your shawl from the ground, dusting it clean of grains of sand before draping it over your shoulders.

You expect him to leave, seeing you have regained some semblance of composure. You much prefer that he would. You can't handle explaining to Leto what was wrong. Is wrong.

The air turns silent as you face the water, wiping the dried-up tears from your cheeks with your fingers. You don't see Leto in your peripheral vision, but he's there, watching you. You can feel it.

"Here," you hear Leto say. Glancing to the side, you find him still sitting next to you. He offers his handkerchief, gently motioning it toward you when he senses your hesitation.

With the slightest smile, you accept the piece of cloth, whispering a "thanks" and looking away. 

It occurs to you then that this is your first true moment with Leto. Before today, you had only seen glimpses of him. The most time you have spent with him was during your first encounter, and even then, it wasn't for long.

You chalked it up to Leto having no genuine interest in you. Why would he? He has duties that are much more pressing than entertaining you.

It's not much of a surprise. It would be wrong of you to expect for more. Ultimately, this marriage is not one for love but born out of necessity. A political alliance. A guarantee that your people will be well taken care of. That's the agreement.

Not to mention, you've heard them— those hushed talks amongst the servants and guards about how Caladan does not stand to gain anything from the union.

They are not wrong; many have supposedly expressed concern, including members of the Duke's inner circle. You wonder if he will come to regret his decision one day.

"You've had quite a fright there."

Leto's voice cuts through the silence between you. He shuffles from behind, sitting where he can better see you. You stop yourself from glancing down; it would be rude, and you don't want to tarnish both your image and your family's name even more than you already have.

"I-I am deeply sorry, my lord. You shouldn't have to see that," you manage to get out, catching the way Leto's brows knit together in response.

"There's no shame in such. Why apologize?" he asks you in a soft tone. "And please, there's no need for formalities. Call me Leto. After all, we are betrothed to one another."

Your throat suddenly dries at the reminder that the man before you is your soon-to-be husband. You wring your hands in your lap and give him a nod, skirting from answering his earlier question.

Leto is quick to pick up your nervousness. You can almost see his brain working to piece it all together and grasp what was happening when he stumbled upon you.

You dread what words Leto might say, fearing they will be judgments made against you. You hide from his piercing stare, picking at your nails until a pair of rough yet gentle hands gathers yours, halting you.

Leto squeezes your hands softly, very much like he did before, and it soothes the part of you that has always ached but you could never get rid of.

"You do not have to carry your burdens alone, my lady," Leto murmurs, leaning to catch your eyes once more, and he does. "Whatever it is, unload it on me. Now, tell me what's wrong."

It's almost cruel that your instinct is to doubt him. But if the sincerity bleeding into his voice wasn't enough for you to give him a chance, then it's the tenderness in his gaze. You see the understanding in them, the concern and genuine desire to ease your troubles away.

Your initial perception of Leto has been wrong. You've been wary of him. Intimidated. But this is no man holding no care for you. He could have easily walked away after finding you amidst a fit. Instead, he stayed. He's here when you were convinced he would never find the time to be.

You open up to Leto like a floodgate, admitting to him the thoughts that plagued your mind from the day you learned about this marital arrangement, your nervousness for tomorrow's wedding and your fear of solitude in Caladan in the days that would follow.

You feel selfish, guilty even, for saying all of this out loud. You have no right to complain when the locals here have treated you with only kindness. Others would dream of being in your shoes—of living in a beautiful land, gaining an honorable title, and having a husband who would make you the envy of many.

Why must a blessing cause you great grief?

Leto listens to every word with undivided attention. He lets you speak freely and honestly, never once interfering between your sobs and sentences. He clears his throat only when the whispering waves of the ocean have lingered in the space between the two for some time.

"You are right when you said some of my advisors opposed me marrying you," Leto begins softly, gauging every bit of your reaction as he speaks. "They told me it would bring no benefit to House Atreides—that all we'll do is use up precious time and resources for a dying planet already beyond saving. Their words, not mine."

There is a quiet beat. Leto glances towards the horizon, where the first faint inklings of dawn break through the skies. He continues: "I realized then that those men do not uphold the same values I believe in. Caladan has more than enough riches to go around. There is no humanity in turning a blind eye to people's suffering—especially when we have it in our power to provide aid.

"I've had plenty of disagreements with my advisors, but I couldn't allow those without hearts to remain on my council. My lack of presence is not because I had no interest in getting to know you. Rather, I was ensuring those who showed little care for my bride and her ancestral land no longer served as advisors of mine—a task that regrettably stole time I would have spent with you."

You fall silent. The breath that leaves you seemingly takes more of the load on your being. Your respect for Leto grows. You see now the kind, thoughtful, benevolent man he is. 

How could you have been so wrong about him? You'd been irrational, too assuming. So afraid he would turn out to be the complete opposite when he gave you no valid reason that he's such. You should not have been quick to judge his character when you had known nothing about him in the first place.

"I... thank you, my lor—Leto," you eventually say, turning to him. Shame and remorse cling to your tongue. "I am terribly sorry again. Had my mind been sound, I would've realized my distress is unwarranted."

"Nonsense. You're overwhelmed; your worries were reasonable. All I want is the two of us to be on the same page," Leto replies. The warm smile that adorns his lips when you correct yourself and address him by name lingers. “Let's start over, shall we then?"

You watch as he stands on his feet, reaching out his hand towards you. With Leto's help, you pull yourself up from the sandy floor, shaking off the pins and needles stinging your limbs. He holds his hand out once more, this time for a handshake.

"Hello, I am Leto and welcome to Caladan. It is a pleasure to meet you and an honor to have your presence here."

A smile blooms across your face as you shake his hand, formally introducing yourself to Leto the way he had. "I cannot thank you enough for agreeing to this. I, my father, and our people are eternally grateful for your generosity."

Leto makes a small bow of his head, capturing your hand between his own. Something inside you feels lighter now. The air around you, once thick like water, isn't anymore.

"You will no longer have to worry about your home world. I will make certain they receive all that they need—as for you, as well. I am here for you, even if it's simply as an ear to listen."

A pause. Leto's voice melts a touch softer. He looks at you with eyes deep and brown as the bark of a pine. "In a matter of hours, you and I will wed. It's merely for formality's sake. What goes on between us as husband and wife is nobody's business but ours. Please know that I ask for and expect nothing in return for agreeing to this arrangement. You will never be forced to do anything you do not wish to. Ever. Is that understood?"

You take in Leto's words, becoming aware of the unspoken ones, those hidden between the lines. Their implications settle on you, and you let out a quiet breath of relief into the air.

"I do," you assure before adding, for what could be the hundredth time since Leto has joined you, "Thank you."

“You’re welcome, my lady.”

The sun peaks over the skyline, casting bright golden rays over Caladan. Leto briefly glances in the distance, the silver strands of his mane and beard catching the light, and they glimmer before your eyes. He smiles wide, the lines on his face crinkling as he watches the sunrise.

You also find yourself smiling, spending a moment more studying Leto's profile before turning to what's ahead of you.

Caladan takes your breath away, even more so in the daylight. You can fully appreciate it now that the storms in your mind have passed, and it's as clear as the skies.

"It's a beautiful day to get married." Leto remarks as the two of you gaze out to the water. After basking in the peaceful silence, he meets your eyes again, offering you his arm like a gentleman would. "Come, let me escort you back to your room. We both should rest up a bit before the festivities start."

Nodding in agreement, you quietly say goodbye to the ocean and allow Leto to guide you away from the beach. The sand beneath your shoes eventually turns to a rocky pathway at the foot of Castle Caladan, its grandeur towering over you.

A warm hand slips into yours.

"From now on, you will never feel alone," Leto says, pressing a soft squeeze to your hand. His hold is comforting, and reassuring. “You will always have me at your side, darling. I promise you that."

You smile at Leto, feeling something tender unfold in your chest when he returns a smile of his own.

You believe him, and for once, you think you will be okay.

—

taglist: @pigeonmama

please note that i’m starting a new taglist for my fics. if you would like to be included, let me know :)

#leto atreides x reader #duke leto x reader #dune fanfic #duke leto atreides fanfic #leto atreides fanfic #leto atreides x you #oscar isaac #oscar isaac x reader #my fics

[somethingjustsouthofbrilliance]

Phileas Fogg and Touch Aversion

I'm going to try to resurrect a post I had written on twitter a while ago when I still had an account there (and when it was still called twitter). It's long, so bear with me, and do keep in mind that these are just my hc's and there's always room for interpretation.

***

So one thing that becomes clear about Phileas from the start is how much he tries to avoid physical touch. Even with those he knows well, like Grayson. Look at how stiff he is here, how he avoids eye contact, how he leans back a tiniest bit.

This physical discomfort is even more obvious with strangers, of course. Especially with strangers who threatened and intimidated him only hours earlier. Even when the contact is no longer a threatening one (you all remember senor Moretti, yes?)

Remember the aborted hugs? The man is so excited to see Passepartout alive that he forgets himself for a moment....

...only to remember at the last minute and have the hug become nothing more than an awkward (safe?) handshake

or, in Abigail's case, a near-pat on the arms

But it's something deeper than just simple intimacy avoidance. There seems to be a discomfort, a fear almost of physical closeness with ADULTS. I'm going to veer onto a slight tangent here that ties into my hc about Fogg's childhood and take a look at this scene in the desert:

Remember how incredulous Passepartout was when Fogg asked him to move because he, ostensibly, couldn't pee otherwise? "I thought you went to boarding school" he said, the implication being "why are you so afraid of having someone stand next to you when you pee?"

The whole situation is funny to Passepartout (and meant to be so to us as well), but Fogg doesn't appear to be amused in the slightest. He pleads, actually pleads with Passepartout to move. And look at how uncomfortable he is. How he tries to block out Passepartout's presence.

And look at this moment here. This is where Passepartout whips out his joystick &starts watering the sand. Look at that cringe, that nervous swallow. I'm not saying this man was definitely traumatized in boarding school, but... he was definitely traumatized at boarding school

This is not to say that he can't handle physical contact at all. He can and does when the situation demands it. When it's a matter of life or death, for instance.

But notice the reluctance, the uncertainty even here.

The only time he DOESN'T hesitate? When someone else needs it, needs HIM.

When it's him alone however? Even when the touch isn't remotely threatening?

He freaks out and tries to run.

And when running is not an option? Freezes like a deer in the headlights.

This moment here shocked him so completely that he drew a blank on all thought, and it wasn't until the lieutenant had uttered the word "coward" - the word that keeps driving him forward - that he snapped out of it

It's different, of course, when it's Estella.

He doesn't shy away from her touch. Welcomes it instead.

Initiates the hug and follows through

Estella is safe. Estella cares about him. Estella would never hurt him. But that kind of safety, that kind of certainty - it doesn't exist where other adults are concerned. Not yet. So he errs on the side of caution and stays back when everyone around him is hugging and celebrating

Doesn't respond to enthusiastic shoulder pats and friendly arm squeezes when he makes his triumphant return home. He looks uncomfortable. Lost. Wary.

Compare that to Abigail's reaction in the same scene

But there are also others whom Phileas is comfortable with, in addition to Estella. Those whom he doesn't view as a threat: kids.

Look here at Alberto plopping to sit down right next to him. Phileas doesn't even flinch. Accepts his presence easily with no discomfort shown

Smiles at Alberto just as easily, too.

Look at Noori here. She grabs him by the hand, drags him behind her. He doesn't mind one bit.

Look at Fogg's reaction when that girl runs out to hug him. He is surprised but not frightened. He goes soft and maybe even a little happy. He hugs her back. He thanks her.

Now look at the difference when Abigail goes to do the same. He stiffens immediately. Pulls back. His whole posture screams "get away".

It doesn't mean he doesn't WANT the physical touch. He does. Longs for it, in fact.

But he believes he lost his chance for this closeness, he mourns the loss of it, and he doesn't think it's for him anymore. He's also likely afraid to test if what he believes is true.

BUT... But... There's a silver lining to all this. Because there IS character growth for him in more ways than one, and he DOES become braver and stronger in more ways than one. And in the end he DOES dare to reach out and he DOES find the courage to NOT pull away.

If you've gotten this far, thank you for reading :) And please come check out my ATWI80D fics where all of this is explored in greater (and angstier) detail. ;)

#around the world in 80 days #phileas fogg #atwi80d #sjsob gifs

[jennelikejennay]

Nobody asked for this but it's time for an essay on Spock's body temperature.

Some people say Spock would have a hot body temperature because he is from a hot planet.

Others say he would have a cold body temperature because he is from a hot planet.

It seemed to me that we could test this thesis! Do animals from hot climates have a hotter or colder body temperature than animals from cold climates?

Humans have a roughly average temperature for mammals, 98.6 F (37 C).

Penguins have a core temperature of 100-102 F. Polar bears have a temperature of 98-99 just like we do. They can maintain this temp even in 40 below zero temps!

What about hot weather animals? The camel can vary from 93-104 F—a huge range, but on average around the same as ours. The elephant also has a large range, 95-99 F.

The coldest-blooded mammal is the echidna, at 89 F. The hottest is the hummingbird, at 107. Neither of these is from an extreme environment. It's more about the metabolism: the echidna's is slow and the hummingbird's is fast.

And yet, you see the range is not very great among mammals. This is because many enzymes work efficiently at these temperatures. Above about 104 F, some start breaking down. By 131 F, there's not much enzyme activity that can happen.

Okay, so: Vulcans. We know that they will not have an especially warm or cool body temperature because of the climate. Since they're warm blooded (an assumption, I admit! But I will defend it later) they will have an ideal core temperature their body will function best at and have features to maintain that despite the heat.

Note: Vulcans can also survive more extreme cold than humans; that's why Spock has to help Bones in a blizzard in All Our Yesterdays. This makes sense to me, because desert climates like Vulcan are prone to extremes. It might get very cold there at night with little moisture to trap the heat. This is one reason I think Vulcans are warm-blooded—a cold-blooded creature would have been useless in a blizzard. The other reason is that cold blooded creatures have a slower metabolism in general, and Spock could not possibly be described as slow moving or slow thinking.

Okay, so what is the Vulcan metabolism? Is it faster or slower than humans? My guess is faster, because of their fast heart rate, strength, and quick thinking. That said, we don't have solid proof either way. It might make sense for them to have a slower metabolism so that their body produces less heat and is less likely to get into the enzyme denaturing zone on a hot Vulcan day.

Which brings us to another question: how do they beat the heat? They seem perfectly comfortable in their climate, they're not using behavioral practices to stay cool as humans from hot climates do. They must have ways to efficiently radiate heat from their core. Those ears, for instance. Remember elephants? Their huge, flappy ears are a major cooling mechanism for them. They are able to push more blood through the small capillaries of their ears in hot weather and restrict it when the temperature drops at night. This is called vasodilation—controlling blood flow to either shed or retain heat. We do it too, though not as much. When you're hot, your ears will be hotter. Out in the cold, your fingers and toes will get much colder than your core.

Like camels, elephants can maintain a larger range of body temperatures than humans can. That's another coping technique they have. Other ways to shed heat include sweat and panting.

I never really imagined Vulcans as very sweaty. In a desert climate, methods of cooling that involve water loss wouldn't be ideal.

Here's my guess: they are extremely efficient at regulating core temperature by controlling blood flow. In hot temperatures, their skin and especially their ears would be hot, but their insides would be maybe 100 degrees. When it cools down, their skin would be very cool to the touch, but they would keep a core temperature in the 90s. They might also be able to speed up and slow down their metabolism somewhat to control their temperature.

So. On the Enterprise, which is kept at a comfortable temperature for humans...I think Spock would be a little chilly to cuddle. If you want a warm cuddle with Spock, go to his quarters, where he keeps it nice and toasty.

This has been my xenobiology deep dive for today.

#star trek #spock #spirk #vulcans #biology #vulcan biology

[velvetures]

Vulnerable pt.2

A/N: Due to everyone's love for the first installment, here's a continuation! It's not full NS/FW to "completion", however, a third post will finish up the little mini-series if part two does well enough. Summary: After getting Ghost to release his tensions after a harsh mission, you're surprised to see how far things go. Ghost is just as shocked. TW's: sexual content NS/FW 18+ ONLY, fem reader, cursing, sexual thoughts, intimacy, not proofread. If I missed something... let me know.

Read Part One Here

Ghost’s eyes flicker in the dim light with something you’ve never seen before. It’s similar to the pain you’ve seen on his face when trying to nurse a stab or gunshot wound. Tinged around the edges with a panic and cracked lines of desperation. For such a strong and self-proclaimed heartless man, his eyes show so much deeper a story. One that calls out happily at the idea of keeping you close to him like this. Interested. Much more than he’d ever felt before.

“If you want to, we could lay down?” You suggest gently, looking at the bed and then back to him. “I’ll keep going.”

Those silently expressive eyes shift all over again. “Yes.”

You stay still, allowing him to choose the pace and tone of this. Wanting him comfortable and feeling safe with you. All of it could stop the second he made it clear, but for some reason, you really couldn’t understand why the Lieutenant was letting you in. And it wasn’t because you were massaging his back. Twisting his lower half onto the bed, Ghost shifted until settled down on the bed on his back, totally open to you. In his relaxed position, you can feel how the invisible magnets between you shift from pushing forces to pulling ones. Body heat radiating off of him and his steady breaths almost acted like a sleeping pill for you as you laid down next to him, careful not to edge into his personal space.

“How would you like to lay?” His eyes wander over your face softly as you question him; head leaning to the side to get a full look at you resting next to him with your messy hair and t-shirt with little holes dotting alone the stretched-out collar. Ghost couldn’t help but realize how pretty you looked right now with your little smile and glowing skin illuminated in the yellow light. It doesn’t take a lot of thought before he gives a very quick and confident answer.

“Facing you.” His dark eyes study you for a response.

One he fears will be hesitation or discomfort. Fuck, maybe even fear. You’d seen him do things even hell would shudder at, yet you always came to him bearing a trusting and happy disposition. Being covered in blood, sand, sweat or mud never deterred you from walking right up to him like some lost little puppy hoping someone would find it cute enough to take home. Genuinely it bothered him. Why do you overlook the danger he presented. How you could be so fucking pleasant and calm in almost every situation you were thrown into. Something he’d been angrily dismissing as nothing more than a passing trend until you really got to know him as well as others had. Yet nothing changed. In fact, you appeared almost excited at the prospect and wiggled yourself into what he assumed was a more comfortable position on your side with one arm propped up under your head.

Ghost shifts himself onto his side with a small grunt, getting into an equally comfortable position that closes a bit more distance between you both. If you had mentioned it, his excuse would’ve fallen somewhere along the lines of you having short arms and that he was only accommodating your size. Nothing could pry the truth that he just liked being close to you out of his mouth. Days in the desert hadn’t nearly touched you. Sure you were a little rough around the edges without time to redo your hair or do any of the other small things… But damn you still looked pretty. With so little space between you, he could smell how sweet you were too. Not that fake shit women always put too much of on. You smelled right. Like a woman ought to. Natural, and… maybe a little on the salty side. It meant you’d been busting your ass in the field, and that thought alone gave Ghost a bit of a shiver as he inhaled deeply.

Face-to-mask with just a little more than a couple inches between you, the closeness felt comforting, reassuring. Ghost at ease, getting to take his time admiring all of the small things he’d never thought to appreciate, while you revel in such a strange yet lucky opportunity to watch him practically melt into the bed all because of your touches and soft words. Perhaps it’s because of all his walls coming crashing down that you’re able to begin trailing your fingertips over his arm. You worked from his wrist to his bicep then over and down onto his ribs, feeling the texture of burns and scars and the small raised edges of tattoos sunk into his skin.

Ghost lets out a low, soft, moan as your hands glide over his stomach. There’s a softness in his eyes as he looks directly at you, blinking innocently like he doesn’t quite know what to do with himself. He’s so eager yet nervous for any sort of attention, and while you have no intention of stopping, you’re careful to not move too quickly. His breath increasing under your hand is a good enough indication that he was feeling something, and strongly, at that.

“More,” he breathes out, nearly panting with his one hand fisting at the sheets under him.

He’s starting to shake inside. Tingling on every surface you touch and fighting back the desperate urge to just make an observed amount of noise with just how much he likes this. It’s been so long since anyone had touched him so intimately. The overstimulation was nearly enough to make his eyes roll back in his head. Yet he swallowed thickly, willing himself to act as normally as possible. For fuck’s sake you hadn’t done anything that should reduce him to such a pathetic excuse of a man on the edge of anticipation waiting to see where you’d touch him next. You made it even harder when you looked up at him with a smile and raised eyebrows.

“Can I try something?”

He can’t nod quick enough, watching those eyes of yours light up. He shivers as your attention moves upwards to the hem of his mask, toying with it a little before tracing long lines from the base of his throat all the way up to his jaw. Working to trace out the shapes and planes of his face under the thin material. It makes him quiver and tighten his fist around the sheets in his hand. Without thinking, he moves his other arm to wrap around your waist tightly and pulls you the rest of the way against him with a small growl of lost patience. Ghost wanted you close, but god you were just too sweet to do it on your own. And with your body heat scalding against his bare skin, he gives a pinched sigh, eyes fluttering closed with you still rubbing his face.

“This okay?” He whispers lowly, his arm still wrapped around you and his hand pressed flat against the deep sway of your lower back; thumb rubbing over your belt loop absentmindedly. Hearing your soft sigh pours over his mind like thick honey in tea.

“Of course, it is,” Your hand curls around the edge of his jaw reassuringly. “You can touch me back if you’d like to.” You offer, reaching behind him to trace a line up his spine. Ghost’s eyes open at your invitation, his gaze -heavy- but fixed on you. His body tenses ever so slightly as you ask. Then, he closes them again and a small hidden smile crosses his lips.

“Yeah…” He answers at a mere whisper.

He moves his hand from its resting place and moves it to the swell of your hip, running it over your waist, fingers lazily catching the edge of your shirt and rolling it up enough that his fingertips brush against your bare skin in a soft gesture. You sense his nervousness in the slight shake of his hands, unsure of where to go, but fighting with the desire to touch everything at least once. Like he’s terrified he won’t get another chance but doesn’t want to scare you away from him either. His arm moves upwards, his hand coming to the side of your face; fingers smoothing back a couple of stray hairs and running across your head. Mentally you stutter for a moment, your arm draped over his side and your hand on his back stilling. Enraptured with Ghost’s rough hand touching you carefully. Treating you no differently than a bomb ready to go off at the slightest wrong move. So gently his thumb brushes over your cheekbone, hearing a tender sigh from under his mask.

“That feels good,” You whisper, lips brushing against the edge of his palm.

An answer doesn’t come, but you can see him nod his head. You can almost picture his smile as his fingers continue to run through your hair, twisting the strands around his fingers and pulling slightly before repeating the motion over again. Lacing his hand closer and closer to you with every soft touch. Ghost can’t help himself from tracing down the curve of your back again. Absorbing the comfort of your breath fanning over his chest and his hands getting to truly feel every inch of you he never even thought about touching, let alone actually laying next to you this close and feeling your smooth skin under his calloused palms. Experience in this kind of thing was as foreign to Ghost as the idea of working a nine-to-five at some office building typing on a computer or attending one o’clock meetings for a budget report. While that sounded mind-numbing enough to blast his own brains out…. he still felt like he’d have a better grip on living a life like that more so than he did lying next to you…

So fucking pretty always smiling like that.

He feels you lean even closer, resting your head against his bare chest and sinking deeper into the bed. Allowing him total freedom to do what he wished. If you could purr, he imagined you’d sound no different than a little kitten tucked inside someone’s shirt, kneading its paws into your skin. Ghost did smile widely this time, moving just enough to unbind his other arm out from under himself and curl it around your head to toy with the extremely soft strands right at the nape of your neck while the other rubbed at the dimples he felt in the small of your back.

You moan softly when his strong fingers squeeze at the back of your neck, rubbing in circles just at the back of your head to mimic the same technique you used on him earlier. Ghost was a quick study, but having large enough hands to practically scruff you with only one made it easier. Muffled in his chest, it didn’t come out nearly as deep and unrestrained as you’d actually been, yet you didn’t miss the slight shake of Ghost’s chest as he chuckled darkly. Proud that he’d elicited such a response, and already moving his hands more confidently to try and find somewhere else he could touch to make you repeat the noise.

“Does that feel good?” His voice pours over your ears like the bourbon he drinks, flooding your mind with a hazy and warm feeling.

Nodding your head to answer, his thumb runs lightly over your jaw again, this time squeezing affectionately. The Lieutenant on the other hand is relying far too much on his mask to keep his mounting excitement under control. Biting back an instinct to be rougher and see what other sounds you could make for him. Wrestling against the want to fully remove your shirt to see if you felt this soft everywhere. Suddenly hungry and hardly masking it. When you feel him suck in a harsh breath, you look up to see his eyes resting firmly on yours. A silent question lingers in the inch or two gap between your faces. His chest rises and falls quickly, anticipatory.

Swallowing the fucking childish nervousness clawing at his throat he finally speaks. “Should I?”

“I’d like if you did.” You whisper back, looking between his eyes and the painted teeth of his mask where you’ve pictured his lips being. Hoping. Praying. Fucking begging whatever beings could be in the sky above that you’d understood what he was asking for. That he’d give you so much more than you ever expected or dreamed of.

The Lieutenant’s eyes lock onto your mouth, and you can actually hear the thick swallow and deep breath he takes. A moment of anticipation that he couldn’t help but close his eyes for, bringing his masked face closer and closer. No more than a breath away, he can smell your hair and it makes him freeze. Quickly overwhelmed and unsure of how to move forward. So in the depth of his own mind, the presence of his mask still covering his whole lower face escapes his attention. You’re calm enough to help him, reaching between you and lifting the hem of his mask just enough to uncover his lips; Carefully resting the mask on the wide bridge of his nose.

You see deep scars -old and new- all over his lower face. Two of them cut over his lips in wide slashes that differed in color from the rest of his beautiful skin. It made your heart squeeze with sadness. Seeing the first real proof of just why Ghost was so closed off and afraid of letting anyone in. The first-hand experience left him always marching on a fine line between professional collaboration and a real, deep emotional connection to those he protected and those who wanted more than anything to protect him too.

Care about him.

It’s the one thought that brought you to press your lips to Ghost’s. Firm and sure of yourself but still sweet as sugar against his mouth. It takes him far longer than he thought to respond in any meaningful way. The sensation is so different, saccharine and syrupy. His. breath increases in pace, and you can feel his tongue teasing at your bottom lip in curiosity. It’s anxious yet bold. Even his hands are still shaking, they’re already wandering under the hem of your shirt much further than before. Grazing the bottom edge of your bra just like his tongue messily begged for more.

When you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer, Ghost feels his inhibitions falling away. Opening his mouth with a low groan and pushing himself deeper, licking against your tongue greedily and tightening his grasp around you to begin rumbling for the hooks on your bra.

He’s nearly panting when he pulls away first, resting his forehead against yours with the hooks of your bra undone without even remembering when he’d done it. The sensation is sending heatwaves through your stomach, flooding your body with heat that rests on your cheeks.

“You’re beautiful.” He mumbles, pulling at your shirt slowly and guiding it up over your head with care not to let it catch on anything.

Your heart thumps furiously as he kisses you, his tongue grazing against your own, softly and sweetly. His teeth tug on your lower lip, and his hands explore your back, feeling the smoothness of your skin. The warmth of his lips feels wonderful, his tongue exploring you as his movements become more frantic.

You feel his hands leave your back and move to your breasts, running lightly against the plush flesh before squeezing softly. Teasing his thumbs over your hardened nipples, giving you a darkened look when a small whimper slips from you. Ghost's eyes flick down, catching the image of your topless body before him and the almost pinched look of pleasure suddenly shocking your body. He smiles at you, his lips parting slightly as he does so feeling a new sense of accomplishment than ever before.

Hurting people felt natural to him after so many years alone and fighting to survive in every moment that came to pass. Rhythm and attention to the enemy's detailed reactions made him a lethal weapon against anyone his talents were directed at. With you in his hands though, the act of fighting was similar yet so very polar opposite. He watched and listened to every pretty little sound you made, but instead of that unending desire for retribution, he was being satiated with the knowledge that he could make you melt with nothing more than his mouth and hands.

Fuck, that thought almost ended Ghost. He couldn’t imagine just how many sounds he could rip out of you if he could use his hands or mouth somewhere else. God, if he ever had the chance to give you his cock, there’d really be no way of going back. He looks you in the eyes for a moment, then back to your lips, before kissing you again, his tongue exploring you as his hands run up and down your body.

He's so fucking eager now, and it shows, his excitement building in every movement of his hips beginning to roll up against yours. He's making you feel so hot and desperately needy for anything that could be given to you, and that's all he wants. Make you feel everything possible… all under his hands. His body, his touch. Only him. It couldn’t be anyone else now that he’d been given a taste of you.

The stone-cold Lieutenant Ghost is ready to give you everything all in the pursuit of making you feel absolutely overwhelmed with pleasure.

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#simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #cod #cod mwii #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #velvetures writes #velvetures #part two

[leighsartworks216]

Small Hands

Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Title based on the song "Small Hands" by Radical Face (definitely listen to it, it fits this so well)

Note: This has (vague) spoilers for Act 3, but also I have not seen the scene with Cazador in question (I started to, but then my heart just hurt too much to keep watching)

Warnings: references to violence, swearing, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 718

Main Masterlist

Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

It's been several hours since... since Astarion earned his freedom. He could still feel the rage and despair and fear just below the surface, bubbling like acid. He can feel the angry words he spat at you burning his tongue, even now.

And despite it all, you were right. Ascending would not have brought him the safety he desired. It would have consumed him, as it had consumed Cazador, and his master before. A never ending cycle.

Now that he's had time to think about it, to think clearly away from that wretched place, all he wanted was to be held. Safe. But not because he wields the power to crush everyone beneath him - because he would be protected. Cared for, unconditionally. Loved. And, of course, the one little detail that had him pacing for the last hour, he had no idea how to ask for something like a cuddle from the person he screamed at for refusing to help him ascend.

He couldn't bear the awful feeling that swelled in his gut, or the way his skin crawled with discomfort. He couldn't go the whole night like this. So, before he could think about it much longer, he left his tent and sought you out.

As usual, you lay under the stars in your bedroll. The fire was burned to embers. He wanted to crawl into a hole and stay there until the next century passed. His nails dug into his palms as he crossed the space to reach you.

You shifted as he neared, until you were blearily looking up at him though heavy-lidded eyes. You didn't scowl or turn over to ignore him, you just stared. He tried again and again to speak, to explain what he wanted and apologize and just - anything. But instead he just stood there like a fish gasping for water in a desert.

When you moved in your bedroll, he fully expected you to curl up and ignore him. What he didn't expect was for you to open up the blankets keeping you warm, and what’s more he didn't expect you to open your arms as though preparing a hug. He was stunned speechless - as if he weren't already. He was shocked back into his body when he noticed a shiver run through you.

Carefully, as though you'd rescind the offer with one wrong move, he slipped in beside you. You'd cuddled before, more times than he can admit without becoming embarrassed, but it felt like the first time. He didn't know where to put his arms or legs or head; an uncomfortable gap full of cold air separated you both, but he dared not fill it.

You closed the blankets around him, absent-mindedly tucking him in. And, he couldn't tell if it was purely subconscious or if you were somehow awake enough to notice his reluctance, you wrapped your arms around him and scooted closer. You tangled your legs with his, drew his head to your chest with your arms around his shoulders, and pet his hair.

He ignored the burning behind his eyes as he relaxed into the gentle caresses and heat you provided. He wrapped his arms around your middle and pressed further into your chest, turning his head until his ear was right over your heart, beating steadily behind your ribcage. Beating for him, despite it all.

You sleepily tangled your fingers in his curls, running through them and feeling the way they stubbornly bounced back. Your movements were so very slow, and really quite uncoordinated, but it was the best feeling in the world to him right now. He released a shaky breath and felt you squeeze him around the shoulders in response.

With time - no more than ten minutes - your loving ministrations slowed to a stop as your breath evened out. Fast asleep once more. And still holding him. Even after everything. Even after he cursed you for stealing a life in the sun from him. You were so, so good to him, even when he didn't deserve it.

What little sleep he finds is accompanied not with visceral images of stabbing his master to death, or of the innocents he lured for the ritual, or even those 200 years of pure shit. No - he dreams of laying in your arms like this. Forever.

---

Tag List:

@hypopxia @flsalazar @beverlybeav @angelofthorr @emiemiemiii @marina-and-the-memes @lynnlovesloki @aurasyn @furblrwurblr @cappsikle @mjmygd @thegirlsadventuresinwonderland @kindadolly @httyd-chocolate @bloopthebat @pandimoostuff @chesb0red @black-star1472 @sessils @olitheghostboy-blog @puppyg1rl666 @maruichio @cyber-dump-171 @katharynmarie @twinkliker3000 @cherifrog

#fanfic #fanfiction #astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldur's gate astarion #baldur's gate tav #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate tav #bg3 astarion #bg3 tav #gn reader #x gn reader #gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader #hurt/comfort

[avatar-anna]

Bruises

"I feel so...hollow," you said, your voice breaking on the last word. "But—But like my feelings are so heavy they could drown me at the same time. I don't—I don't know when it started, but I can't remember how to be happy without waiting to be punished for it later."

Tears were tracking stains down your cheeks like small rivers, leaking out of your eyes faster than you could stop them. Not that you tried to, anyway, even that seemed exhausting. One thing you could do was avoid Harry's gaze. You felt it like a severe burn as he practically begged you to look at him, but you just couldn't. Not while you were so vulnerable. You felt stripped bare, even more so than the number of times the two of you had been intimate.

"Y/n—"

"Don't," you said, nearly leaping out of your skin when he rested a hand on your shoulder. You looked up at him then, saw the pain in his eyes at your rejection of his touch. But you couldn't handle it. Your soul felt raw as you said things you never thought you would out loud. "Please don't, I can't—"

Harry seemed to understand as he nodded and took a step back, but the concerned furrow of his brow remained, his fingers curling awkwardly at his sides. He'd always been the type to communicate through touch—a squeeze on the shoulder, a tip of your chin, a gentle nose nudge on your cheek, a hand never far away from your person. You knew that he craved touch to comfort people, and yet he stayed put. For that you were thankful, and it helped you find your words again.

"I don't know what's wrong with me," you said, almost too quietly for anything but your thoughts to hear. "I—I don't know why I'm feeling like this, or how I got here, I—I just feel like I'm stuck in this emptiness."

Saying all of that made you want to run and hide. Harry didn't need to know all this, how wrecked you really were inside. No one did. He was just someone who happened to be around when you were at your worst. Normally you were able to keep a lid on your darkest thoughts, but he'd come over when you were in the thick of it, and you couldn't exactly hide how you felt when you were crying uncontrollably for virtually no reason other than it was a Tuesday afternoon and life suddenly felt like one big chore.

Maybe it was the holiday, seeing everyone so happy, hearing songs about falling in love and kissing under mistletoes and commercials that said, "The perfect gift for that someone special!" Being surrounded by so much cheer only left you feeling more hollowed out, more lost than you'd ever thought you'd become.

"Y/n, why—why didn't you say something sooner?"

"Like what?" you laughed bitterly. "That I cry at the drop of a hat and can't handle light teasing from my friends? That I haven't felt right for weeks and getting out of bed feels like a chore? We—That's not who we are to each other. I—I have no one."

The words clanged around, grasping onto your heartstrings and convincing you it was true. You had friends and family, but when the darkness reared its ugly head, you always felt hopelessly and inescapably alone. Words deserted you when you needed them most, leaving you to smile and pinch your skin, trying your best not to cry in line at the grocery store or while sitting at your desk at work. It was all too much, too much to handle, and yet you didn't want anyone else but you to share that load, the weight of your inexplicable despair.

"Do you honestly think that?" Harry asked. You couldn't even dignify him with an answer. It had been humiliating to say it once, let alone look him in the eye and say it again. So you just shrugged and wiped your cheek. "You're my friend, Y/n, and I care about you. I'm sorry if I haven't done enough to make you know that."

"It's not just you, H," you sniffled, feeling bad for making Harry uncomfortable. It wasn't his job to make you feel better. Your problems were yours to bear alone. They always had been. "I don't—I don't know how to do this."

"Do what, love?"

Despite the discomfort of having shared so much, Harry's gentle voice felt like a warm blanket over your shoulders. It made you finally look up to meet his eye. You were surprised to see so much emotion held in them, but you didn't shy away from it like you thought you would. It helped fill that hollow ache a little, made you feel a little less alone.

"I don't know how to deal with this any other way," you said, trying to explain. "I don't...I hate sharing this stuff with people. It makes my skin crawl."

Your body felt heavy, your soul weary, as if no amount of shed tears or leaning on shoulders would ever ebb the emptiness that was taking over you. But you didn't want the pity. You didn't want anyone to worry or look at you differently because of how sensitive you tended to be sometimes. To deal with the myriad of moods that swung on a pendulum day to day, sometimes moment to moment. The pressure of feeling like you should reach out and ask for help was almost worse than the emptiness and despair.

"This is a good start," Harry said, inching just a tiny bit closer. "I just don't want you to think you can't talk to me. You can, Y/n, and I'll listen, or give you space, or help you find professional help, or do whatever it takes to make you smile. Just let me be here for you."

The notion didn't sit well with you at first. It wasn't how you dealt with things, though clearly your methods weren't working. That didn't make letting Harry in any less scary, or any easier. But Harry was still here. You'd broken down, shared just how broken you really were, and he was still here, asking to be someone for you to confide in.

Harry had been your friend for a long time. You ran in the same circles and saw each other often enough that you'd consider him to be someone you were close to. It wasn't until your arrangement that you got to know him more. You'd never had a friends with benefits situation before, but you never imagined it to be so easy. Rules had been sketched out, boundaries were made and kept, and things between you just seemed to work. Even when you didn't see each other for a week or two at a time, there was no awkwardness.

There was no jealousy at parties or possessiveness; you were exclusive, but okay with the idea of ending things should either of you meet someone you wanted to explore a relationship with. You and Harry just clicked—two friends who happened to sleep with each other, companions who could hold conversations about their jobs amicably, yet knew every inch of each other's bodies intimately. And now Harry was offering something more, something different.

Nodding, you said, "Thank you."

Harry gave you a small grin, then tentatively reached a hand out to wipe away a stray tear. You let him, not feeling like a startled animal anymore. You knew part of you should've felt embarrassed that Harry had caught you in such a state, that you'd let him see how broken and hurting you were on the inside, and maybe a small part of you did, but you mostly just felt like a weight had lifted off your chest.

"Can I get you anything? Maybe a cup of tea?" he asked, leading you over to your kitchen counter as if it was his home, not yours.

You let him, content to watch him move around your kitchen as if it was his own. He'd been over to your place enough times to know his way around and know how you took your tea.

Sitting in silence, you watched as Harry took a mug that looked like a gingerbread man and one that had a textured, cable-knit sweater design from your cabinet and fixed up two cups of tea. His shoulders flexed beneath his loose shirt, dark brown curls curving every which way at the nape of his neck. The familiarity of this moment was comforting after such an emotionally taxing and foreign afternoon. Harry was here as often as your busy schedules would allow, or you were at his place, neither of you concerned with how much time you spent together.

Though today you hadn't expecting to see him, hence the emotional breakdown. You didn't really plan those kinds of things, but you'd been feeling more down than usual and had been seeing Harry less and less recently as a result. Every text about a next meet-up, whether that was to get lunch or have sex or anything in between, had been rebuffed quickly and kindly. Today he'd shown up out of the blue.

"H?"

"Yeah?" he said, his back still to you.

"Why did you come over today? Y—You didn't text like you normally do."

Harry looked over his shoulder briefly, a small smile playing at his lips. "We hadn't seen each other in a while," he said breezily. "Which is fine, I know we're both busy, but I just had this distinct feeling you were avoiding me."

"I'm sorry," you said, finding it easier to say it when his back was to you. "I don't mean to do that."

"I know," Harry said, that same gentle and easy tone in his voice. "I've always known you're squirrelly about feelings."

You huffed at his choice of words, trying to focus on his humor rather than the fact that he seemed to know you better than you thought he did. You appreciated that he didn't state the obvious, which was that you went way past "squirrelly." The last hour had been emotionally taxing, and you appreciated that Harry offered you a modicum of normalcy.

"Thank you for checking up on me," you said. "You're a good friend, H."

Perhaps better than I deserve, was what you didn't say, because you knew he would scold you for even thinking it.

"Well, my visit wasn't totally innocent," Harry teased as he finally came over with two steaming mugs of tea, yours done just right. There was a faint blush on his cheeks, but didn't say anything more than that.

Raising your brows, you said, "Ah. You couldn't find anyone to watch Hallmark Christmas movies with you, could you?"

Harry chuckled into his mug, taking the excuse you both knew was a lie and ran with it. "Yeah, that's exactly it. I knew you'd understand."

"I wouldn't say to no a cheesy Christmas movie."

"Promise me you'll tell me when you're feeling like this again," Harry said a while later.

You could tell Harry was trying to hide his eagerness to pull you into your room and fire up your TV. His eyes scanned over you briefly, as if he was trying to assess where you were at mentally. It would be hard to see that stare, to know Harry had seen you at your lowest and would constantly be gauging if you were on the verge of another breakdown. But the thought didn't irritate you the way you thought it would. You were surprised to feel a little relieved that you weren't the only one taking care of you, at least for the time being.

You were huddled under a mountain of blankets together. Twinkly lights in your bedroom casting a warm light over you both. You'd meant to put them up earlier in the month, but hadn't made yourself get around to it, the small task falling to the wayside the same way a lot of your everyday chores did. Harry took one look at the forgotten box of lights and got to work, even going as far as putting a looped video of a roaring fireplace in his phone and setting it up next to your television. It was a little silly, and a tad over the top, but you appreciated it all the same, the lengths he was going to ease the ache in your chest as best he could.

He was practically on top of you now, but unlike the events of today, that was something you were used to. Harry liked to sprawl out, specifically with you underneath him—leg over your waist, arm tucked across you to keep you close, face buried in your neck or chin resting on top of your head. He insisted on draping himself over you like a blanket, even before you started sleeping together.

"I don't want to bother you—"

"Bother me, Y/n," Harry said, his voice gravelly as he gently turned your face to meet his gaze. "I'm not doing my job as your friend if I'm only with you when things are easy or—or good. You're not alone, okay? As long as I'm in your life, I'm in it. Good and bad."

"I'll try."

You tried to blink back tears, a little surprised you had any left to shed. Your face was undeniably puffy and a little dry, and you were tired in a different way than you had been the last few weeks. But these were different tears from earlier. A different emotion took over you as you nodded.

That seemed to satisfy Harry. He kissed your forehead, and you closed your eyes against it, allowing yourself to believe everything he'd said to you today.

You weren't magically fixed, that crushing weight was still waiting for you like a monster under your bed, but you weren't alone. Harry had turned the lights on, showing you that perhaps there was no shame in letting someone see the worst parts of you. Because he was still there, promising to hold your hand and help you until you felt whole again.

#Spotify #harry styles #harry styles angst #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic

[sunrise-imagines]

welcome back!! can i please get finn (fionna and cake ver obv <3) basic pda headcanons i'm STARVINGGGGG

YAYYY TYSMMMMM

Thanks for being my first new request! I’m so happy to get back to writing after so long, and yesss it is dry as a desert out here looking for adult Finn fics so why not add to them myself :)

Hope you enjoy!

~Adult Finn PDA headcanons~

•Remember back when I said Steven was the PDA king? Yeah nah Finn dethroned him.

•Love love LOVES showing you off to everyone, like this man will not shut up about how amazing you are.

•He’s gotten a lot more bold than when he was a teenager, he is absolutely not afraid to kiss you right in the middle of a conversation, even when you’re talking to someone else/a group of people.

•He gets even worse when he’s drunk, he will constantly cling to you and try to make-out. You can’t even push him away because he’s built like a brick sh*t house, so you just have to deal with this bear of a man smothering you all night.

•Loves rubbing his face against you while cuddling, especially your belly and chest.

•For the love of Glob, please touch his hair and beard. He will practically purr when you run your fingers through it.

•Is almost always holding your hand or has his arm around your waist when you go out.

•Fist bumps are also a way he shows affection. Like if you aren’t comfortable with a lot of touching he will definitely give you fist bumps instead.

•Just likes to hold you and touch you pretty much everywhere you’re comfortable with, not in a sexual way but just to ground himself and remind him that you’re really here.

•Hugs are very important for him. After losing Jake, he’s become so caught up with trying to distract himself with adventure after adventure and he forgets to just slow down.

•There have been many times where, when he’s packing up to go on his next big adventure, you come up and just hug him and beg him to stay safe and come home, and he just melts in your embrace.

•And when he gets back he always gives you a big bear hug, lifting you up and squeezing you so tight you have a little trouble breathing. He doesn’t mean to, he’s just so happy to see you again he can’t help it.

•So yeah Finn’s a huge dork for you, but would you really want it any other way?

#adventure time imagines #adventure time x reader #finn mertens x reader #finn the human x reader #finn x reader #fionna and cake x reader #fionna and cake imagine #adult finn #adventure time fanfic #fionna and cake fanfic #adventure time #fionna and cake #sfw #finn mertens #finn the human

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

Lost in Ikea. || John Price x Reader

For @glitterypirateduck's “O, Captain!” writing challenge! I used prompts:

4. Lost in an IKEA

41. Price and Reader run into each other (literally)

48. A character tries to hide that they are crying or upset

Rating: E Words: 1.3K cw: period/menstruation + symptoms, feelings of inaddequacy?. Tags: afab!reader (bc menstruation), you/your pronouns but no Y/N, crying, hurt/comfort, strangers. Summary: Reader is just having a bad day and John is a kind stranger. a/n: I just needed a little hurt/comfort for the soul. This isn't too serious. Also the 'lost' part of Ikea is more emotional than physical. ALSO ALSO, OFC I HAD TO DO THIS PROMPT, my screen name is literally Ikea.

Should you have gone to Ikea while on your period, when you’re in pain and light-headed and in a mood to kill a man? No.

Here’s the thing, you wanted a specific little bear plush they sell there (DJUNGELSKOG). And a meal from the restaurant. And maybe a new lamp. And a new set of bed covers and pillows. And honestly, you could use a little trolley for your craft supplies. And since you’re there you might as well no longer postpone buying that shelf you need-

You walked around the store for over two hours just looking at everything and, steadily, filling up your card with more than you expected. Little knick-knacks, a new set of cups for the kitchen, a picture frame, etc. etc. 

You took your time, moved at your own pace, slowly observing all the room displays… Maybe got lost at one point, but that’s neither here nor there.

Once you found a storage trolley you liked, as well as a shelf, you advanced through the warehouse, pushing your large cart along.

The trolley came first. It was small and light enough and after checking that the box said White, you found yourself perfectly able to drag it onto the large metal warehouse platform cart.

But then the shelf- you crouched down and tried to get a grip on the box and pull, but the bitch was heavy. You huffed and struggled, but it wouldn’t budge. It probably didn’t help that both your womb and your lower back were throwing a rager of cramps and all your muscles were sore.

Maybe you shouldn’t have come on your period. Another weekend, any other weekend, and you’ve been strong enough to get the box with the disassembled shelf off its perch… But you wanted to do it today! 

You wanted to feel like you got something done. You wanted the sense of accomplishment… You wanted to feel like you persevered through the pain! 

You had the whole day planned out: You got out of bed, you showered, you had proper food and a desert, you cleaned your house, you went outside, and you finally completed something you had been putting off!

You couldn’t leave without the last one! You had to get it out! You wanted to take the stupid shelf home with you!!!!

Tears start pooling in your eyes, your lip beginning to tremble. You’ll blame it on the hormones and the frustration.

Stomping your feet, you walk down the aisle, abandoning your cart and turn the corner intent on pushing the box out from the other side-

Then you smack into a person and it knocks you so off balance (you were already sort of light-headed either way) that you drop onto the linoleum floor.

If the day wasn’t already bad enough and you weren’t already crying, taking a hard seat on the floor in front of a stranger only made you feel that much worse.

“Christ, you alright?” A man’s concerned voice comes from above you. You wince and close your eyes hard, trying to conceal the tears in them.

“Y-Yeah. Sorry. I was in a hurry and wasn’t paying attention.” You murmur and turn to the side, using the floor and the industrial shelf next to you to pull yourself up to your feet.

“No, I’m sorry, I was walking fast too.” He replies. “I wasn’t fast enough to catch you. Might be getting old. My reflexes aren’t what they used to be.” His tone sounds playful, like he’s trying to lighten the mood.

“Yeah, haha.” You try to laugh it off. You still haven’t properly glanced at him and he can tell that you’re trying to conceal your redened eyes as you look off to the side.

“Are you sure you’re okay? Didn’t hurt you, did I?” He checks, his voice a lot more gentle.

God, you feel pathetic. Crying in front of a stranger in the middle of an IKEA warehouse. 

“I’m fine… Just… having a bad day.” You reply and for a moment you finally look over at him.

Great. On top of making a fool of yourself in front of a stranger who happens to be super kind, said stranger is also older and hot, definitely a dilf. Great, just great. You really should’ve stayed at home today.

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” He replies softly as he peers at you with bright blue eyes under thick brown eyebrows.

“It’s fine. Sorry. Didn’t mean to make this whole thing awkward. I’m sorry.” You turn to return to your things. Fuck the damn shelf, you’re going home and never coming to this IKEA again.

“Wait. Hey!” He says as he calls after you. Turning to look at him, your face twists into an upset, embarrassed look.

“You don’t have to apologise for having a bad day or having a cry, it’s alright.” The man says as he approaches you again when you’re already at your cart.

As he speaks, you notice there’s no pity in his tone, or some sort of cringe-riddled sentiment of awkwardness that comes to normal people when a stranger suddenly overshares. He’s just… kind.

Your face softens a bit more and you quickly turn to look away. Instead, your eyes find the stupid box with the shelf you want, still on the industrial shelves, and you start crying more.

“I just want that bloody shelf and it’s… it’s too heavy and I can’t get it into the cart and- I can’t believe I’m crying over this!” You complain and gesture vaguely to the space in front of you as you find yourself sniffling.

“Alright. Hey, it’s alright.” He assures you and gives you a friendly tap on the back, on your shoulder, over your hoodie. “How about I get it for you?” He asks.

You find yourself looking up at him. “I don’t wanna bother you.”

“Not at all!” He says with a friendly smile and a nod. “I’m plenty strong and I’m already here! Plus, imagine me walking away now after offering?” He jokes.

You can’t help the chuckle the escapes you amidst your broken sobs. “Would’ve been proper rude.”

“Of course it would. And my mum raised me right.” He adds playfully, causing another chuckle to rise out of you. “That’s the smile I wanted.” He cheers.

John moves forward and crouches, helping to slide the heavy box off the shelf with a mighty grip of his big hands, sliding it onto the bottom of the metal cart with the rest of your shopping. “There it is.”

“Thank you…” You murmur as you seek for tissues in your pockets, grabbing one to dab away your tears.

“It’s alright.” He assures you again. “And, for the record, there’s no shame in crying. If you would’ve asked me 3 days ago what I was doing, I’d tell you I was having a good sob in my car after going to the supermarket because I was so tired and overwhelmed.” He admits and chuckles.

“You?” You ask, not quite sure if he was being sincere.

“Oh, yeah. I cry all the time, me.” He tells you and winks one of those blue eyes at you, making you chuckle again.

“Well, thank you, erm…” You trail off, realizing you don’t know his name.

“John.” He says while reaching a hand forward for you to shake. You return the introduction with your own name.

“You think you’ve got this? Or are you gonna need help getting it into the car?” He gestures at your entire cart.

“Oh, shite, you’re right… Need to get this into the car…” You groan and facepalm yourself.

“Tell you what-” John says as he looks at you. “You wait for me while I get the rest of my things-” He takes a list of paper with scribbled reference numbers on it from his pocket. “And we’ll go through checkout together, and I’ll help load this up into your car?”

His offer is so sweet and sincere and kind, you find your eyes clouding with tears again. Then, you nod eagerly and dab away the tears with your crumpled up tissue again.

[ O, Captain! Masterlist ] || [ My Masterlist ]

#ikea writes 💚 #ocaptainchallenge #cod x reader #cod fanfic #masterlist #captain john price #john price #john price x reader #call of duty #cod fandom #captain price #captain john price x reader #captain price mw2 #price mw2 #price

[dira333]

Date Nights - Aizawa Shouta

From the Date Night Series - Tagging @alienaiver

Edit: You need to have this visual while reading

1.

“Are you ready to go?”

Shouta looks up from his desk. He’d been so close to resting his head on it, to giving his tired eyes some much-needed rest. 

Your smile is warm and inviting. And it makes something tingle in the back of his brain, something he’d been trying to remember all week.

“Oh no,” he groans softly, “I forgot our date.”

Your smile doesn’t falter.

“I heard about your day from Hizashi,” your voice does not carry any resentment yet his heart is thundering in his chest. 

God, he’d been so anxious about it, had been pondering where to go and what to do for hours, how could he forget?

“Let me just get a coffee real quick and we’ll be good to go,” Shouta insists. He’ll also need at least five minutes in a bathroom and a spare change of clothes. He knows he looks more like a homeless person than anything else right now and he probably smells like it too.

“No need,” you wave him off. His heart stutters to a halt. 

Please don’t cancel, Shouta thinks, just as you reach out and take his hand. Your fingers are warm against his own cold ones, bad circulation be damned.

“I asked you out, so of course I planned the date. Come on, we don’t want to miss anything.”

“But coffee-” He manages, his heart pitter-pattering away as he follows you down the hallways of the school.

They are deserted, thankfully. As much as he loves the feel of your hand in his, he couldn’t bear it if anyone saw. 

Your car is a lime-green monstrosity. You smile sheepishly when he stares at it.

“I like bright colors,” you shrug, “And I’ve never lost my car in a car park since I’ve bought it.”

He can’t argue against that. The seats are soft and he can feel himself slipping, almost falling asleep against the window. When he jerks away, adamant to at least look awake if he’s not looking like much else, he finds your hand resting on his knee. His mouth runs dry. Can he? Is he supposed to? 

He puts his hand on yours and you turn to smile at him before looking back at the road. 

It’s a quiet ride. Somewhere in the organized chaos of his brain, he jots down that you don’t listen to music while you drive. It’s a welcome change from sharing rides with Hizashi.

“We’re here.” You park in front of an apartment complex. “Come on up.”

Your keys jingle in your hand as you walk in front of him, up the stairs and down a hallway. You open the door that has your name on it.

His heart thunders traitorously. Did you bring him to your place for your first date? Why?

His mouth won’t let him form words, so he follows you silently, his mind racing ahead. 

It’s only when he’s slipped out of his shoes and pulled on the bunny slippers you’ve placed for him, that he makes sene of what’s going on. 

In the middle of your living room is a fort of pillows and blankets, big enough to house All Might in his muscle form if he wanted to.

Shouta stops and stares. You do flourish your arms. “Tada! Do you want something to drink first? I thought it was a good idea because you honestly always look like you don’t get enough rest and it’s important to take care of each other’s needs in a relationship and I asked you out so-” 

It’s the first time he’s heard you rambling today and the familiar sound soothes his nerves a little. At least you’re nervous too.

He steps forward, boldened by your own actions, and kisses you.

You sink into it right away, arms thrown around him to pull him even closer.

When you pull back first, he can’t help but chase after you, to sink further into your embrace as you giggle with your face pressed against his neck.

“I’ll make you something to drink, okay?” You whisper, face still hidden away. “Make yourself comfortable.”

He wakes up hours later, throat perched, head in your lap.

You’re reading something on a tablet, one hand free to drag itself through his hair in a motion that could put him back to sleep again.

“So, about a second date…” You ask when you stop at his place in the morning so that he can get a fresh set of clothes before work. You’re not looking at him but your hands are squeezing the steering wheel, telling him how nervous you are.

He leans over and kisses you, pouring all his feelings into the gesture.

“There’s a bookstore in my neighborhood,” he offers, “We could go there after school. Today shouldn’t be as draining and even if, I want to go with you.”

Your smile could light up the world. It certainly lights up his.

-

2.

“Ready to go?” Shouta’s patting himself down as he asks. He’s got his keyes, his pain medication, his phone is fully charged and his wallet’s there too.

You’re still on the Couch, petting Muffin. The old tabby is purring so loud he can hear it from the entryway. 

“For what?” You ask, a little distracted by Muffin trying to chew on your fingertips.

“We’ve got a Date, honey. Why did you think Deku picked up Eri?”

“Because he wants to spend time with her?” You pull Muffin from your lap and deposit her on a pillow, kissing her head when she mews.

You yawn as you walk over, don’t cover your mouth in favor of brushing the pet hair from your legs.

“What kind of date?” You ask as you pull close and kiss him, snuggle into his embrace.

“There’s this new Bookshop a few blocks down. I walked past it a few times when I went to the park with Eri and it looked promising.”

“Really?” You furrow your brows. “How do I not know about it? I’ve never seen one when I go to the park with her.”

“That’s because we take a different route. More cats, less foot traffic.” He kisses your cheek and pushes you toward the bedroom. 

“Five minutes, you need a different sweater. I won’t go out with you looking like this.”

You stick your tongue out at him, but comply. 

When you come back, he can’t help the laugh bubbling in his throat. You’re wearing a Ganriki Neko sweater in purple and turquoise over a purple skirt and turquoise tights, an outfit he’s seen last at one of Hizashi’s costume parties.

“How do I look?” You ask, batting your eyelashes at him.

“Like I need sunglasses to take you in,” He jokes.

The walk to the bookstore is short and quiet. You’ve been distracted lately, 

Maybe it’s the new Class you’ve got or Eri’s recurring nightmares, but he’d been planning a date like this for a while now. Taking a break just hasn’t gotten easier now that they’re parents.

“Pspsps,” He leans down to feed a snack to the little black kitten that Eri has fallen in love with. It’s well groomed and clearly belongs to someone, but it loves coming over to say hi.

-

“I’ll get us some drinks,” Shouta declares the moment you step into the store. It’s lovely, not entirely rebuilt, but rather renovated, giving the old, darkened wood some new life. 

You nod and wander around, peeking at the shelves in search of something that tickles your interest. He finds you in the non-fiction aisle not much later, deeply invested in a cookbook.

“This has everything,” you explain. “How to eat during your pregnancy or if you want to increase the chances as well as how to feed children of different ages.”

“Okay? How are the recipes though? We’ve got plenty of cookbooks at home we don’t use.”

“True,” you grumble. It’s your least favorite thing about him, how he tends to stop you from impulse buying. He offers you your drink before you can dwell on that any longer.

“For you, sugar with a side of coffee.”

“Har Har.” You mock laugh before taking a sip of the concoction, furrowing your brows a little. “It tastes a little off,” you claim. “Did you ask for something from the menu?”

“No, I gave them your special recipe. Sorry, do you want something different?”

“No, it’s fine. They probably made it for the first time this way.” You take another sip and your brows relax. “I’m just a little weird today.”

“I’m a little weird everyday,” he offers and you lean into him, heavy, warm and familiar.

“Let’s take a look around, shall we?” He grabs your free hand with his, swings them around as he pulls you forward. There’s plenty to see and soon enough, his arms grow loaded with books. The newest edition of the manga Hitoshi reads, a signed biography of a Hero Hizashi’s still very enthusiastic about, bookmarks and a little Neko Nightlight for Eri, the list goes on.

“I need to sit down for a bit,” Shouta exclaims when you turn back towards the non-fiction again. “You can find me at the children’s books.”

“Okay.” You get on your tiptoes and kiss his stubble. “I won’t take long.”

-

Shouta’s halfway through a book about a little mole looking for a home when you come back. He’s accustomed to the sound of your footsteps, even if they come a little more hesitant, like now.

You’ve got one book in your arms, the title hidden as it’s pressed against your stomach. 

There’s a shy smile on your face as you turn it around to show him the cover.

“How to be Pregnant for Dummies.”

He reads it and reads it again. The news take a moment to seep into his brain but when it does, he almost takes down the book display with how fast he jumps from his seat.

“No way!” 

“SHHH!” Someone shushes him from the front. Shouta doesn’t care.

You’re smiling, eyes a little teary.

“Since when do you know?”

“I got the results today, but I missed my period so I’ve had a hunch for a week or so. It’s still pretty early.” You giggle when he peppers kisses all over your face, making it almost impossible for you to keep talking.

“Sorry, I was a little bit in my head the last few days.”

“It’s okay. It’s big news.”

“Hm. How do we tell Eri? And Hitoshi? And-”

Shouta turns around and pulls a book from the pile he wants to buy.

“Little Neko got a sibling?” You ask, a little dumbfounded. “How did you know?”

His smile is a little sheepish. He can never lie to you.

“I didn’t. But the Neko was cute.”

You laugh at that, pull him closer. It reminds him of their first second date. 

Of cuddling in a corner at the bookstore, away from prying eyes.

Some things will never change, even with a metal leg and a new life on the way.

-

“Where do you wanna go next?” He asks when the books are paid for, hanging off his right arm as you lean onto his left.

You blink up at him, eyes still a little red-rimmed from all the happy tears.

“When’s Eri coming home?”

“Two hours, maybe. Do you wanna go home and cuddle?”

You ponder that for a second, your hands warm on his. 

“Let’s get ice cream,” you decide, a wide smile on your face. “And when we get back, we can make a fort!”

Shouta pulls you close, presses a kiss onto the top of your head.

“I love you.”

“Mhm,” You grin up at him. “I love you more.”

My Kofi if you want to tip me

#my writing #my hero academia #my hero academia fluff #mha fluff #mha x reader #aizawa x reader #aizawa fluff #aizawa and eri #dad!zawa #aizawa shouta

[sweetlyskz]

Emerald Gem||Chapter 3

Chapter one|Chapter two|Chapter three|Chapter four|Chapter five|Chapter six|Chapter seven|Chapter eight|Chapter nine|Chapter ten(finale!)|

Pairing: Hybrid!OT7 x fem!reader

Overview: Living away from society has its perks. All natural food from your thoroughly cultivated farm, no nosy neighbors, and peace and security with your animals. But sometimes you did get lonely, having no one the talk to but the pigs. However, when 7 extremely wanted hybrids stable upon your deserted farm, everything changes.

Genre: Hybrid Au, Strangers to lovers, slow burn, smut, fluff

Warnings: Suggestive themes, language, mentions of abuse and trauma

Word count: 1.5k

Unedited

He was avoiding you. You could tell. He made it very obvious. Each morning you woke up, he was going to sleep. And every night you went to sleep, he was just waking up, but he didn't dare leave the room, for fear that he would run into you.

Joon was still being Joon, and the Situation with Jimin made it worse. You weren't sure if he knew what happened between you and Jimin, but you didn't ask to find out either. However, he was eating more and more. At least he can trust you enough to eat your cooking. That's progress, right?

Before you knew it, the boys had been with you for two weeks. Some of them had become pretty comfortable. Taking the advice Taehyung gave you, you bought some cat scratchers for Yoongi. All of the wolf hybrids in the pack would go in the backyard to let all their energy out, except Joon. He just watched over them, scolding them whenever they would chase the chickens.

Jungkook was your new best friend. He stuck by your side like glue, your big buff teddy bear. Yoongi was quiet, reserved. He spoke to you often, but he tried not to talk for longer than a couple minutes. Jin and Taehyung were the best of help. He always cook meals, and when it's time to farm, he never lets you do anything yourself. Hoseok was still timid and flighty, but he was loyal. This group of dangerous hybrids was slowing becoming a loving family... very slowly.

"Seriously Tae, get your own!" Jungkook and Taehyung were fighting over the new snacks you had gotten them. One thing you learned about about kook was that he was very territorial over his belongings. That's why you had a specific drawer of snacks with his name on it.

Unfortunately, that wasn't enough to stop Taehyung.

"Just one bite, please!" They were playing tug of war with the bag of chips. Jungkook was winning. "You have a whole box of them! I can't have just one?"

"No! You can't", he protested. While trying to tear the chips from Tae's grasp, the bag rips, chips flying in the air and landing all over the kitchen.

"Look at what you did!" Tae accused, bending down to pick everything up. A broom would've been more efficient but he wasn't sure where you kept it. "Hurry up and help me clean before Y/n sees it!"

Swiftly, Jungkook helps pick up the salty potato chips. Before exiting the kitchen, they look around one more time to make sure there wasn't even a single crumb on the floor.

And with that, the argument over the chips was over, never brought up again...

You noticed that Jimin loved hanging out in your greenhouse, admiring all of your colorful flowers. You wanted to give him some space, but while watching him walk around the greenhouse you had the urge to join him.

"Those are vincas, by the way", you whispered loud enough for him to hear you, fiddling with your fingers.

He appeared to be startled by your presence- rightfully so. His mouth hung open, looking as if he wanted to say something. You stoped him before he could get the chance.

"Before you say anything. Let me just apologize first-"

He shook his head. "Don't. There's no need to apologize. You did nothing wrong... I should be the one apologizing. I know that hybrids and humans aren't allowed to interact i-in that way- very selfish of me."

"What are you talking about?" You may have done a lot of research on hybrids, but you never did any on their relationship with people. Maybe you should've...

"In the lab they always told us..", Jimins mind went back to the days he wished to never remember.

The lab was cold, ice cold. Stuffed in cages, the wolves shivered, huddled together for warmth. One by one, the men in lab coats sedated the wolves, fearing being bit by them.

"This one is feisty!" The researcher laughed, holding the hybrid by the spikey collar as the medicine kicked in. The others in the cage kicked and pulled on the metal bars.

"Please! He's tired, he can't take anymore!" The pack leader begged. "Take me! Take me instead, I'll do anything."

The researcher came up to the cage with a cane, banging it on the bars. "Listen here, mutt", he hissed. "Each of us have a part to play. Your is to be obedient to your superiors, understood?"

The other men laughed and applauded him for putting Joon in his place. "That's right! Show him what happens when mutts defy humans..."

Everyone in the lab agreed, shouting as if the lab had become the coliseum. A fox hybrid ran up to the bars, getting down on his knees, head pointed to the floor.

"Please excuse him, sir. We know are place is and will always be behind these bars. Please have mercy", he pleaded.

The researcher smirked. "Always remember your place. You will never have what we have. No human will ever want you, not even as a pet- definitely not as a lover. Remember this- your barely human, and will never be treated as such..."

Jimin was heavily drugged up, laid out on the surgery table. However, what the researcher said, his words- Jimin remembered every last bit of it. It still rang in his ears. You will never be treated as human...

And so, if I'm not going to be treated as one, why try and act like one? Why not let my wolf counterpart take over? These thoughts dangled over Jimin's head. And with those thoughts, he used every last bit of his strength to stab one of the researchers with a knife- the same knife they were gonna use to rip him open.

Namjoon grabbed the other man through the metal bars, choking him until his eyes rolled backwards. Jimin rolled off of the table, and the rest is a blur.

Next thing they knew, the men in lab coats were dead, and all of the hybrids in the lab were freed by Jimin's hands. With how weak he was, it truly was a miracle. He saved the lives of over a hundred hybrids.

The next few months after, these hybrids hid in the woods, using their primal instincts to survive. Maybe those men were right. Maybe they were never human to begin with.

That's what they thought, but those thoughts went away when they met you. The person who was kind enough to let them in their home, give the somewhere to rest their head. It was you. You were their person.

But sadly, you couldn't erase the damage that had been done. You couldn't get rid of the bad memories, the mistreatment. And that moment you showed a bit of affection for Jimin, he was elated, but the voices started speaking to him.

And then men in the lab coats came to him saying, this won't last forever...

***

"Why didn't you tell me? I don't ever want to make you uncomfortable in any way!"

Jimin told you his story, his deep-rooted fears. You both laid in a field of daisies as he confided in you. It's difficult for you to explain the emotions you were feeling as he told his past. Sympathy? Rage? Both?

"Because... A part of me- actually all of me wanted to. I want to be yours. But the thoughts- they're stuck in my brain and resurface every time I get even a little bit of hope." Jimin's head hung low, picking the flowers from the fresh soiling and plucking each petal one by one.

She loves me...she loves me not... she might love me?

You grabbed his hands gently, holding them between yours. "Look at me", you asked him softly. He obeyed, of course.

"You are half wolf, that part is true. But Park Jimin, you are human! You more human than any human I've ever encountered! You're kind, charismatic, and the most thoughtful person I have ever met.

Your words brought tears to his eyes, and seeing him cry made you eyes swell, too. You enveloped him, hugged him tightly- but not too tight. Just enough to show how much you mean it. Then you placed a loving kiss on his forehead.

"You deserve this, Minnie." The new nickname perked his ears. You could tell he liked it. "You deserve life. An amazing fucking life."

"T-thank you", he whispered. "I- I can't thank you enough."

"Don't thank me. Just get better. Seeing you hurt makes me hurt. And seeing you scared makes me scared. I swear on everything I love that you will never go back there, or anywhere."

"But, once Joon is ready, we'll be gone", Jimin confessed. "I don't want to leave, but he also has his own story to tell."

You pondered, never daring to remove Jimin from your grasp. Maybe you can convince him to stay permanently? Maybe there is something you can do to ease the pain...

"Don't worry your pretty little head, just rest." You gave his hair a fluff, earning a cheesy smile from him. And just like that, you both napped in the field of daisy, his arms wrapped around your waist and your hands holding his head close to your chest.

You have to make things right...

~Taglist! (closing soon!!)

@yoongicatcat @wifflepuff1344 @unwillingly-oblivious @shycreationdreamland @emer-syn @rinkud @amimami1991 @singukieee @nikkiordonez12 @xicanacorpse @cestlabellemort @whipwhoops @spider-thot0115 @ddaeng-angmoh @silscintilla @readerofallthingss @welcometomyworld13 @danielle143 @kookiesbunny @yoongiigolden @woozixo@anaspectoflife @blackrockshooter780 @famousdelusionobservation @jewishmommy @talyaaas-blog @eashmo @jaiele @kaceypdf @reallysparklychaos

~Permanent taglist!

@famousdelusionobservation @marblemoonstones @stupendousliteraturewritingoaf @fearnotfimmie @v-love @tired7o7

#kpop #bts #bts fanfic #bts imagines #bts x reader #kpop smut #bts smut #kim seokjin #park jimin #bts series #kim namjoon #poly!bts x reader #bts ot7 #bts fic #kim taehyung #bts jimin #bts taehyung #ot7 x reader #poly ot7 #min yoongi x y/n #bts hybrid au #hybrid #bts x fem!reader #rm bts #bts army #bts junkook

[sttoru]

DON’T STOP.

༄ sypnosis. you ramble about one of your recent adventures while sitting on your boyfriend’s lap as he’s working.

༄ note. small and quick fic i wrote inspired by an arabic poem: “don’t shorten your speech, i love your details.” by zaid al hourani. didn’t re-read it. repost.

༄ tags. al-haitham x female reader. just fluff, bits of angst and comfort.

“so then, i walked up towards the cave and you won’t even guess what i saw..”

you were rambling about your recent adventure out in the deserts of sumeru while sitting on your boyfriend’s lap. al-haitham was at his desk in his study, busy scanning through the stack of papers and scrolls in front of him.

you’d told him earlier that you could just leave him alone if he needed some space to finish his work, however al-haitham insisted that you’d stay with him.

as much as he didn’t want to admit it out loud, he loved having you near him in any type of way. it’s somehow comforting and it takes his mind off of all the stress he’s having about his work as the akademiya’s scribe.

you continue to happily tell your tale while your eyes were focused on al-haitham’s face. however most of the time his eyes wouldn’t look back at yours at all— not even sparing you a quick glance.

al-haitham’s distant gaze was solely focused on the words that were written down on the papers before him.

he was silent and only nodded or hummed ever so slightly while you talked to him. gradually, your boyfriend stopped those small reactions all together.

it left you with a weird, tinge of disappointment in your chest. of course, you hadn’t expected al-haitham to full out react to your story since he was busy. plus, he usually doesn’t give too big of a reaction anyway.

you still felt like a nuisance for sitting on his lap as he worked, even though al-haitham verbally asked you to stay with him earlier.

you hadn’t noticed that your voice was trailing off the more you got lost in thought, yet al-haitham was quick to realise.

it didn’t look like it to you, but your boyfriend had been listening all along. he was skilled at multi-tasking and especially at the moment, where it came to dividing his attention between you and his work.

“keep going, love.” the scribe finally replies with the slightest of a smile as he keeps reading the contents of the document, “i promise, i’m listening.”

one of his hands move to hold onto yours. his thumb rubs over the skin of your palm, fingers slowly massaging the flesh. it was his indirect way of comforting you.

you smile softly at al-haitham’s words and actions before continuing your story. despite it all, you decided to keep the unnecessary details out of the way and focus on finishing your words as soon as possible so al-haitham could complete his duties afterwards.

“my love.”

your boyfriend’s voice interrupts you mid-sentence and you stop talking to look at him with a puzzled expression, “yeah?”

al-haitham sighs softly, putting his pen down and pushing the papers to the side for the time being. your heart felt like it stopped and your stomach dropped; did he want you to stop? does he finally find your rambling too distracting?

“you’re cutting the details.” the scribe says as he gently puts a strand of hair behind your ear.

“huh?” your eyes widen at his words. you didn’t even know how he caught up on such a minor thing.

al-haitham brings your hand up to his lips and places a few delicate kisses on each of your knuckles. his warm breath on your skin and the affectionate glimmer in his eyes as he finally looked back at you were almost too much to bear.

“please, do not shorten your speech, my dearest.” he whispers, moving his lips up to kiss each of your fingertips. “speak your mind. i promise that i will be here to listen to every word you utter.”

it was in that moment that you realised that al-haitham had been paying full attention to your words this entire time. it couldn’t be otherwise since he easily figured out that you were leaving out details.

al-haitham slowly adjusted you on his lap by holding onto your hips and bringing your body closer to his— your back pressed against his chest.

“can you do that for me?” he eventually adds, looking at your eyes and then at your other facial features which he fancies equally.

to say that you were flustered by the sudden attention from your boyfriend was quite an understatement, though either way, you nodded.

“y- yeah, sure. i will.” you manage to get those words out before clearing your throat.

al-haitham smiles softly at this and places a soft kiss on your cheek. “there’s my girl. thank you.”

your boyfriend then continues to pick up his pen again while his other hand stays on your waist. his fingers absentmindedly play with the fabric of the clothes you’re wearing.

you pick up your story from where you had left it at; this time recalling it without any details missing— just how your boyfriend likes it.

#sttoru writes. #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #al haitham x reader #genshin x you #al haitham x you

[wizardrousactivity]

They Promise. Part I

Next>>>>

Synopsis: After the break up with your two partners, you find out you're pregnant. Causing you to fall into a depression and bankruptcy, a month after you give birth they show up at your door. Pleading for you. CW: Pregnancy, depression, break-ups, reader is fairly young. (early twenties) so [age gap] hurt/comfort It’s been about 10 months since König and Simon had left you, knocked up and depressed. You were breastfeeding your month old while sitting in your kitchen, eating up the last of some spaghetti you made. - everything felt empty, sultry and lazy. Spending most of your time weeping in your room until the baby screamed, rushing over to soothe it whenever you could. You needed to care for this baby, he’s all that you have. Your fingers trace over his small hands, rubbing them softly, it gave you comfort that you had another breathing - living human besides yourself in this house. Kissing his forehead you gently lowered him into the crib, looming over the wooden bed before making your way back to the kitchen. Till you hear a knock at your door, stopping you in your tracks. Staying cautious at who could be there at such an hour, you turn on your heel and peek through the blinds. A man the size of a grizzly bear and another man roughly his height. You can’t recognize the both of them till you see the familiar sniper hood and skull mask. Anger boils in you, a slight pang of guilt whirling in your stomach when you think of them seeing the baby. - Wrapping your hands around the handle, a lump growing in your throat once you open it to meet their eyes. Both of them are almost at their knees when you appear at the door, still the same. So perfect, so pretty for them. But they can’t forget they left you, sad and depressed for the entirety of 10 months.

 - Then suddenly you’re back to the first 5 months, trying to stay content with your situation so as to not stress out. You cried almost every day, rubbing your belly and thinking of what was growing in there. The shock was too much for you, causing you to nap through the day just to escape everything. It took a while to realize that it wasn’t the answer to anything, you accepted the baby. But you couldn’t accept the break-up yet. The sound of Ghost’s voice breaks you out of your thoughts, a deep gruff voice almost full of guilt. “We need to talk.” “What the fuck is there to talk about?” You retort, you were surprised they even came back. Leaving you deserted so coldly, with a baby they didn’t even know about. Tears build up in your eyes, dripping down your face immediately.   "Liebling- please.." König  interrupts, his hand reaching out to rest on your shoulder till you swat it away. Voice weak and dry. "Don't fuckin' touch me!" His heart pangs with guilt, he needed you. They needed you. The months they spent without you were cruel, half of the girls they met only being hookups to fuck and leave. Crack whores showing up at their shared flat almost every week. Everything goes chaotic until the baby begins to shrill, crying out for his mama upon hearing the noise. Cursing under your breath in panic - rushing upstairs to soothe him once again. König  and Ghost follow you upstairs, stopping in their tracks to stare at the tiny child you are holding in your arms. Patting it's back to calm it down. "Y\n?" König  begins to speak, dumbfounded by the baby. "Where did he come from?" You scowl, look at him with utter disgust. "Its my baby. You guys left me when I got pregnant." Memories begin to flood with your first 3 months, throwing up every morning, nobody was there for you. The food was the hardest part, you barely had any money to spare during that time. You still don't. Guilt boils in their stomachs, watching you care for it with such gentleness. Gentleness they'll never experience again, only touch starved and lonely again.

"Can I hold m'?" Ghost asks, making his voice more gentler around the premise of this now sleeping baby - holding his hands out. Swallowing, you hand him the baby. "What's his name?" He says as he gently engulfs the baby, holding it with ease and security.

"____, that's his name." You dryly respond, licking your lips and putting your hands together. He notices your nervous gesture and hands it back to you. Sighing heavily Ghost puts his hands on your shoulders, rubbing circles in them softly with his thumb. The action making warmth grow in your stomach. Finally speaking amongst the silence, your voice comes out deprived and quiet. "You guys know I can't forgive you after..." Your voice comes to a stop, tears beginning to trickle down again.

"We'll prove it to you then, give us some time baby. We promise." König  makes a grunt at that, putting his hand on your jaw and making you look at him. "Sounds good, nicht?"

#konig x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #könig x reader #konig cod #simon ghost riley x reader #konig mw2 #simon riley x you #simon riley fluff

[bwabys-scenarios]

Heyy what do you think Chrollo’s icks would be? 😵‍💫

IM SO SORRY TO THE CHROLLO STANS BUT THIS IS GOING TO BE LONG

Chrollo’s Icks

-MANSPLAINER

-literally learns everything there is to know about your interests and then explains the complexities of it to you like you’re a fucking IDIOT. he thinks you’ll love it because he’s interested in YOUR interests, but it only pisses you off

-he tries so hard to be suave and cool that it makes you cringe. you’re pretty sure you heard the line he just used on you from a shojo anime…

-he’s really rude. it’s not on purpose, I swear, but if you wear something he doesn’t like he’ll just look at you all displeased. “are you really going to wear that to the function? I did tell you it was formal… right?”

-analyses everything you do, but is often wrong. will try to predict what you’re going to say/do next only to be proven wrong, embarrassing himself

-snobby when it comes to books, even if his favorite thing to read is manga. will criticize you for liking the Percy Jackson series with a copy of Naruto in his hand

-he’s handsome and he knows it. is a bit too cocky about his looks and ends up relying on them too much. unfortunately, you don’t care about how handsome he is after he’s missed the fourth date in a row

-speaking of dates, he’s bad about canceling last minute and/or leaving mid date for his job(if you can call it that)

-he’s so clingy at times, sometimes when you would rather not be held. then when you’re in need of some comfort or cuddles, he’s distant and cold. WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME

-has definitely used a line from fifty shades of grey in the bedroom, turning your coochie into a desert immediately

-gives you gifts that you don’t even want, like expensive jewelry and clothes when all you wanted was some roses and a teddy bear. he often buys you things that you can wear that are HIS style. not yours

-if he’s gone for a while he may send someone to watch over you, that person often being Feitan or Pakunoda. Pakunoda is okay, bringing you desserts and hanging out. Feitan however watches you from a distance, and only after you call the police on him because he looks like he’s going to murder you, does Chrollo inform you that Feitan is his friend. Feitan isn’t a bad guy though. Once you invite him in his creepiness dies down. A little.

-talks down to you a lot

Things that ick him out

-people that smoke(he hates the smell)

-sloppy/messy people

-if the person he’s interested doesn’t like his friends, he loses interest in them immediately. He may not want you to be around the Troupe a lot, but you at least have to like them. They’re basically his family!

-never, and I mean NEVER try to convince him that his lifestyle is wrong or try to change him. He’s not changing, and you’ll only give him the ick. If you want chrollo, you gotta accept him, flaws and all. And those flaws are him being a wanted criminal

-he doesn’t like people that are ungrateful or take life for granted.

-anyone that insults Meteor City will not only give him the ick, but will cause that person to lose a limb. if you aren’t from meteor city, you don’t get to trash talk it

-he hates strong perfumes/lotions. it gives him a headache

Random HCs

-despite all his icks he’s actually a really sweet lover. genuinely cares about you and your well being, and his icks will improve over time if he’s pushed in the right direction,

-I think we all know this but chrollo is a huge cock warming fan. it doesn’t matter if he just wants to read a book at his desk or is out at a restaurant, he’s amazing at hiding the fact he’s buried deep inside you

-if you two get a pet the pet will always end up hating him or loving him more than you, there’s no in between

-he’s so silly, he pretends that reality tv is below him but will also watch it from the kitchen when you’re not paying attention, gasping when they do something shocking

-he’s actually a little shy the first time you two have sex! it’s not that he’s a virgin, he just loves you so much he’s a bit scared he’ll cum too quick. he’s been imagining this for a long time, and just seeing you naked underneath him is enough for him to be leaking profusely

-he has autism. this is a very biased headcanon because I’m also autistic, but just look at that guy, it screams undiagnosed autism

#chrollo lucifer x reader #hxh chrollo #chrollo x reader #hunter x hunter chrollo #chrollo lucilfer #chrollo headcanons #chrollo hunter x hunter #chrollo hcs #chrollo smut #chrollo imagine #chrollo fic #x reader #anime x reader #headcanon #requests open #reader insert #hxh x reader #hxh imagines #smut requests #hunter x hunter x reader #hunter x hunter #hunter x hunter headcanons #hxh headcanons #hxh hcs #anime x chubby reader #chubby reader #chubby!reader #fem reader #female reader

[sweetheart-satoru]

his addiction

he has an addiction to physical touch

author's note: bye i've been writing satoru a tad too much so let's cool ourselves off with some suguru <333

suguru is in love with holding you. whether it be in the car, his right hand always rests on your thigh, or if you are out to eat, he will sit beside you just so your knees or elbows touch. he doesn't care how he's touching you, he just needs to feel your skin on his.

now, it's two in the morning, and you need to pee. urgently. last night, before you went to bed your mouth was so dry you chugged so much water, but because suguru was rushing you into bed so you could cuddle you didn't get a chance to piss then. so you held it.

and now you can't.

suguru cuddles like he's a bear. in the winter it's more convenient 'cause he will warm you up in the cold nights, but hot summer days like this? you're screwed. one, you're sweating. you have three layers of blankets, the first being a sheet, the second being the comforter, the third being the decorative blanket and the fourth being the one and only suguru.

and two, his hold on you is crazy strong for someone unconscious. you want to shove him off you (with love ofc), or at least poke him or shake him gently but you know he's been overworking himself and even the slightest movement while he's sleeping can ruin his entire night. so now you're lost.

over the three years of dating, you've learned suguru struggles to get sleep at night. usually, when you scratch his head and hold him in bed, it's easy to get him to sleep. as long as he's in the comfort of your arms.

you feel bad but you really, really need to go.

instead of waking him, you try to unwrap his arms from your waist, and carefully move your legs to untangle yourself from him while also peeling off the heavy layers of blankets on you.

"mm, where you goin'?" he mumbles, pulling you back into him. you sigh, "suguru, baby, i need to pee. i didn't wanna wake you, go back to bed i won't take long."

"lemme come with you.." he's clingy when he's sleepy, you also have noted this throughout the years of dating him. "to pee?" you quietly chuckle, and he nods, his eyes shut.

"no, baby. sleep. you've been working so hard lately." you kiss his forehead, slipping out of bed once more, heading to the washroom. you shut the door to relieve yourself, not bothering to lock it because it's only you and him here.

it's not like he's the only one working hard these days. your boss has been putting more hours and shifts on your shoulders, the only reason they did that was because they knew you weren't going to say no. you try not to fall asleep on the toilet, but your head shoots up when you hear the door creek open.

"baby... you're taking too long." his voice is raspy with a of whiny tone in there. after you finish wiping, you move to wash your hands. "i told you to sleep." you jokingly scold him, scrubbing your hands extra good.

"hurry.." he whispers, and you do, quickly drying your hands and then taking him, guiding him to the bed. "you need to be patient, sugu." you kiss his temple as he cuddles into your side, "you take too long." he quietly mutters, and after a moment of silence passes, you can tell he's fallen back asleep.

"sleep well baby," you kiss his forehead, letting him bear hug you in his sleep even though you know you're going to wake up sweaty. but it's okay, you'll let suguru bear cuddle you in the desert if he wanted to.

you both know this.

guys i was gonna make this about satoru but then i was like no suguru needs some love and then i was gonna make this satosugu x reader and then i went NO. SUGURU NEEDS THIS. also idk if this seems like suguru, but it's whatever :,)

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #geto suguru #suguru geto #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #geto x reader #geto x you #getou #getou suguru x reader #jjk geto #suguru getou