#still screaming about these two on a daily basis

[hecckyeah]

I do think. that one of the best parts about Dousy is that they’re such a natural, believable, adorable couple WITHOUT sacrificing either of their characters. I feel like it’s easy to fall down the slippery slope in writing of pairing people up if you sort of tweak and adjust their personalities to fit each other, especially if the goal is to have them be endgame in a very short time. I think the worst example of this in the MCU was when they tried to push brutasha, and completely changed the essence of who they were. it made zero sense and they must have been embarrassed because no one’s mentioned it since. but then you have Dousy, who have no business being together but fit perfectly like pieces in a puzzle. and they retain everything about what makes their characters great individually. they’re better together, not better because they’re together. there’s a small but very important difference.

#dousy #still screaming about these two on a daily basis #agents of shield

[sttoru]

Could you do a scenario where megumis daycare teacher is hitting on y/n and toji and meg get really overprotective about it <3 love you parenting series sm

⟣ tags. dad!toji x female reader. fluff. themes containing jealousy / protectiveness.

you were stunning. that much was known and evident to toji and others around you. your looks were captivating — however, you always seem demanded to deny that fact. even when you have a husband who reminds you of how good you look on a daily basis.

but with good looks comes male attraction; something toji greatly dislikes since you’re his wife. it isn’t like he’ll be mad at you about it — no, not at all. in fact, toji feels a surge of pride every time someone tells him how lucky he is to be your husband.

the thing is: he gets a little. . . too jealous and overprotective every now and then when the harmless compliments turn into blatant flirting.

“oi, megumi,” toji grumbles as he holds his son in his arms, looking out in the distance. specifically at you talking to megumi’s daycare teacher for a bit way too long to his liking, “ya see that? mommy’s being hit on right in front of us.”

the little boy stops chewing on one of toji’s hair strands, seemingly understanding whatever his dad had said. megumi lets out a small ‘oh!’ noise and stretches his arm out in your direction, pointing at you, “mama.”

you were too busy answering the questions megumi’s teacher asked you to even realise that your husband and son were looking at you from far away. toji’s menacing aura, however, only seemed to intensify the more you talked to that man.

“tsk. . . all right, kid—listen up.” toji narrows his eyes at the scene before putting megumi down on his feet, crouching down to be at eye level with the boy. he puts a hand on megumi’s shoulder and whispers a plan in a ‘baby-language’ his son could understand;

the two are being the perfect partners in crime right now (they always have been; since megumi’s birth to be precise).

megumi’s daycare teacher was telling you a fun story about what your son had done to which you politely laughed at. in that same moment you could feel someone tugging at your pants lightly — as if wanting to catch your attention,

“oh — hi, my baby.” your face lights up as you see megumi standing behind you. his big eyes were staring up at you, fingers curled around the fabric of your trousers still — not a clue of what he wanted of you,

you tilt your head to the side in slight confusion and when you wanted to crouch down to be at eye level, the little boy suddenly starts to scream and cry as if he just experienced something traumatic. when in reality, nothing in the current scenery had changed to provoke such a dramatic reaction.

“woah, woah, hey. .” you were startled by the sudden switch in megumi’s mood — his face going from a neutral expression to one of pure despair as he (fake) cried. not only you, but also the daycare teacher seemed to take a step back from the sudden screams echoing in the area.

you immediately pick megumi up and try to calm him down, not pressing him for answers on why he suddenly decided to have an-almost-mental-breakdown-like outburst.

another switch was flipped in the toddler once your attention was diverted from his daycare teacher to him and him only. your eyebrow raised at how easily megumi shut up and went from a state of distraught to one of content in your arms.

that’s when you glance over at your husband who stood near the exit of the daycare, leaning against the wall with his bulky arms crossed, a proud and smug grin on his face — his plan seemed to have succeeded. all credit goes to his son for succeeding in catching you off guard.

“damn, seems like the brat needed his mama’s attention, eh?” toji calls out with an ‘innocent’ shrug, snickering after that, “like father, like son — they say.”

it took you only a few seconds to realise that toji had probably asked megumi to catch your attention by faking to cry near you — knowing you’d drop anything to comfort your child at any time, no matter what you were doing.

“oh, you little . . .” you bite your tongue to refrain from scolding your childish husband out in public. you look down at megumi, seeing him stare back at you with happiness in his blue eyes. you certainly couldn’t be mad at him, “you. you’re lucky you’re cute, ‘gumi.”

you chuckle and kiss your son’s forehead, bidding the teacher farewell quickly (leaving him disappointed by the rushed ending of your conversation), before walking to toji.

megumi squirms in your arms and when you put him down, he instantly runs to his dad, expecting something in return for his performance. toji did seem to have promised him something in exchange for accomplishing his mission—

“papa! papa! candy!”

you raise an eyebrow as toji takes out a piece of candy from his pocket, reserved just for his son. toji was beaming with pride, ruffling megumi’s hair before handing him the delicacy, “here ya go. good job out there, kid.”

you roll your eyes, as that was the only thing you could do after walking right into their trap like that. as per usual.

the cherry on top was that your husband was mocking you like an annoying manchild on the way back home — recalling how worried you reacted when megumi successfully acted like he was crying.

megumi giggled along with his dad, leaving you entirely defenceless. at least you could laugh with them as well.

they got you good.

#ෆ : parenting 101. #jjk x reader #toji x reader #jjk x you #toji fushiguro x reader #jjk fluff #toji fluff #toji fic #jjk fic #toji x you #jjk x y/n #toji x y/n

[mikuyuuss]

I love that Mitsuri is a little silly and stupid at times, shes a girlboss AND a girlfailure to me <3 but apparently there are some people that genuinely dislike her for those things? I understand Mitsuri's character isn't for everyone, BUT WAIT, HEAR ME OUT.

I've always had this headcanon that Mitsuri had a somewhat sheltered childhood growing up, since In the Rengoku Gaiden, she randomly got discriminated by a stranger for her hair color, so I can only imagine that she probably got that on a daily basis.

I'm sure Mitsuri's parents don't enjoy seeing their eldest daughter bring harassed, so perhaps they might have coddled her a bit. Maybe that could explain why Mitsuri comes off as childish, innocent or """"stupid"""" as many people would say. For me, it's more like her personality just screams "sheltered kid", through no fault of her own tho.

(this is taken from the second fanbook, translated by @/violetheart08)

The fact that she's happy to have friends at the corps, suggests to me that she probably didn't have many friends growing up, she most likely got bullied too, and if that's the case, it's understandable that she can come across as overly friendly and excitable whenever she's befriending new people.

She's actually socially awkward like Giyuu, but just on the opposite end of the spectrum lol, that's why I love them both.

But still, it's not that Mitsuri is straight up incompetent. She's very creative and thinks outside of the box with her breathing style. She also adapts pretty well in high stress situations, we saw this in swordsmith arc, but also we see this very clearly in the Rengoku Gaiden too.

The fact that it only took her two years to become a hashira shows that she has a level of discipline to attain that title. Not only did Rengoku trained her well, this is also no feat that a truly "stupid" person can achieve.

The reason why I have this particular headcanon about Mitsuri is because some families do put A LOT of importance on reputation, especially asian families, when their kids start showing traits that would make them "different" they tend to "hide" the kids in order to protect their reputation so they won't lose their chances at marriage.

(Though I'm not saying all asian families are like this. This is mostly just based on my personal experience that I won't elaborate further)

It reminded me of this scene, when Mitsuri's family suggested that she can just stay with them forever when she was worried that she won't be able to find someone. I love Mitsuri's parents and they are VERY GREAT for their time, but also this is really relatable to me personally :(

And given how marriage was such a big deal in Taisho era, I imagine that it was a mixture of that and the pressure to conform and protect their daughter at the same time that led me to imagine that Mitsuri probably had a sheltered lifestyle.

And you know it's possible that I'm wrong about all of these lmao, but just the fact that she has a comparably normal childhood is a good enough reason as to why she's more positive and naive compared to her peers. I know this is all just a headcanon, but I do wish people can be a bit more considerate towards Mitsuri before hating on her for being "loud" "stupid" and "annoying"

#my post #me speaks #kny #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny meta #meta #ish #mitsuri kanroji #kanroji mitsuri #sincerely a former sheltered kid who grew up with an even more sheltered sibling #Got called dumb and stupid more than once had trouble making friends and had to learn social skills the hard way #mitsuris relatability is slept on #me thinks #I just dont see her personality as some generic ditzy anime girl 101 #for me it kinda makes sense for her to be that way given the setting and her background

[dragon-ascent]

You see Liyue's god, Morax, on the street and you lose your mind.

★彡takes place centuries ago, when Rex Lapis was said to be close with his people, Rukkhadevata still existed, etc.

In Teyvat, where gods and monsters roam the land, it is only natural that stories of the divine weave their way into daily life. As a child, you'd been accustomed to poring over books and pictures of the gods of other nations. Like Baal with her elegant, thundering might that could cleave whole islands in half in one stroke, and the playful Barbatos, who could blow away even the tallest mountains with a single gust of wind. They were all so charming, so ethereal, so complex. Your own god was no less impressive - the beautiful and divine Greater Lord Rukkhadevata, whose blessings of wisdom gave rise to your thriving nation.

The god that fascinated you the most, however, was Morax - or Rex Lapis, as the people of his nation so reverently called him.

In all the stories you'd read and the plays you'd seen, Rex Lapis was depicted as a fierce warrior god who could overcome any adversity thrown his way. He'd minted Mora from his own divine body, altered the landscape of Liyue during major battles, and bestowed blessings of illumination upon his adepti companions.

Most importantly, he is handsome.

Yes, it's a little silly to swoon over a religious deity, but...look at him. Every story you've read depicted him in the same way, be it in Inazuman manga or Sumerian amar chitra katha: long dark hair that was securely fastened by a gilded pin; toned arms that shimmered with hues of black and gold; and glimmering amber eyes set upon a face that seemed to be chiseled by Celestia itself.

Honestly, Rex Lapis is the main reason you're interested in pursuing higher studies in Liyue rather than in Sumeru, much to your parents' disdain. Why go to Liyue when Sumeru has a perfectly reputable Akademiya with well-established Darshans? But they know they cannot stop you: when your reverence for Rex Lapis has far transcended your devotion to Rukkhadevata almost since the moment you were born, why shouldn't you gain the opportunity to get closer to the god you love most?

So the day you get the acceptance letter from your dream academy in Liyue Harbor, it's a most joyous occasion indeed. After much jumping and screaming and cheering, you lay out your plan for when you first get to Liyue to settle into your dorm for the academic year:

Step 1: Find Rex Lapis.

Step 2: Woo him and become his consort...or something.

A masterfully-crafted plan, is it not?

---x---

It's not a far journey from Sumeru; the two are neighboring countries after all, and it takes about a day and a half by cart to get to the harbor. That's where Rex Lapis is most active, so you should certainly be able to catch a glimpse of him at least once during your fortnight here, yes?

Throughout almost the entire journey, your nose is buried in stories of Rex Lapis mingling with his people. Oftentimes this is done while he is incognito, his golden eyes the only thing giving away his identity.

Yes, that's another thing about him that wildly interests you - out of all the archons, he's one of the closest to his people. That's the whole basis for your master plan, no? It wouldn't work if he were to be cooped up in Taishan Mansion like he was originally supposed to be.

The scenery shifts from thick forests to vast valleys, and before you know it you've crossed the Sumeru-Liyue border. The landscape shifts to warmer colours, the ever-present green now blending with hues of red and gold. Mountains dot the horizon, and your heart pounds with excitement at the thought of Rex Lapis having formed them all himself. And, the moment you see a Statue of the Seven come into view and it's Rex Lapis instead of Rukkhadevata, you find yourself squealing for the carriage to be stopped for a moment.

Hurrying out and almost tripping over yourself with giddiness, you make your way over to the statue. "Oh my gosh!" You can hardly believe it yourself, but his stone likeness sits upon a throne, his face shrouded by a hood as he gazes contemplatively at a cube in his hand. With the way he's sitting...surely you can nestle yourself on his lap!

The carriage's coachman pulls you back before you can climb up the statue and incur your first penalty in Liyue.

---x---

Fortune is on your side for the most part, for your dorm is located in the perfect spot near your academy-to-be, and you get a lovely seaside view from your window. The rent came cheap as well, and you had a smooth and seamless moving-in experience.

The area where fortune is not on your side, however, is in the fact that you've been here for a week and haven't seen neither hide nor hair of the Geo archon. You'd been traipsing around the harbor all week to the point that you could probably point out all the landmarks like a local, but there was no sign of a certain golden-eyed man at all. (You knew this because you'd made sure to look into everyone's eyes - not long enough to be creepy but just long enough to get some confused looks.)

One consolation was the fact that the people of Liyue loved talking about their experiences with their god: how he had once used a spoon from this place to try food from that stall, how he had written a poem for this store and had personally named that restaurant...his presence was interwoven with the stories of this city and could certainly not be de-threaded from them.

So where on earth was he now?

Your question is answered when you're out buying potatoes at the market ("Rex Lapis himself had suggested this place sell potatoes!"), when the vendor nearly knocks your bag over as he bows deeply to the tall man who has appeared beside you. "Rex Lapis, it is an honor and a pleasure to see you back here again!"

You nearly drop those damn potatoes.

"Ah, think nothing of it, my friend. The vegetable arrangements you craft out of food waste are simply a delight to behold - and economical, as well. One might even say that..." As his rich, deep baritone engulfs your ears, you finally muster the courage to look up at him. The moment you do, your jaw practically drops to the pavement.

The manga and amar chitra katha weren't lying. If anything, they weren't even doing justice to his appearance.

Beautiful amber eyes set upon a chiseled face that exuded equal parts royalty and congeniality; long, silky dark hair held together by a lustrous gold pin; and through his archon robes you could make out the shape of his toned and muscular body.

"Ohmagaissreallyyouohgaohwhadahek..."

You hadn't realised you'd just babbled something until the god stops mid-conversation and turns to look at you curiously.

"Pardon me, little one, I didn't quite catch that."

Your legs feel like they're made of water; yet somehow you don't fall to the ground. He's looking at you, oh gods he's looking at you. "Uhhhhhh," is all you can utter.

He offers you a warm smile that could put even the morning sun to shame. If your voice worked, you would scream "I'm in love with you" at him. "Yours is a face I have not seen around here before. A visitor to my land, I assume?"

The only thing you can do right now is nod meekly. The god's eyes twinkle.

"Well, I do hope you enjoy your stay here. Liyue has much to offer, regardless of what it is you may be looking for." You nod dumbly yet again as he finishes his conversation with the vendor and, with a nod to you, Rex Lapis begins to stroll down the street.

Clearly his presence is not an infrequent occurrence, for everyone who passes by him merely greets him with mild nervousness and reverence, as opposed to hurling themselves at his feet and wailing words of praise at him.

Finally, your legs start working again. Before you know it, you find yourself running towards him. Rex Lapis, sensing your footsteps, turns to look at you.

You pause, catching your breath. Your heart is hammering away in your chest, and it's not because of the running. "I...have something I want to say to you...m-my lord!"

"Yes?" He eyes you curiously, head slightly cocked.

You bite your lip, your mind reeling. So many things to say, so little brain juice in you... "I - I think you're very handsome!"

Saying this, you run off, leaving the god to stand there and process what had just transpired. Classy.

#sini writes #zhongli #genshin #genshin impact #zhongli x reader #genshin x reader #zhongli x you #rex lapis #morax

[yandere-romanticaa]

art credit. // I was greatly inspired by this post by the lovely @yanderenightmare so, I'd like to add my own little take on it, but only focusing on Dabi and Hawks because I'm just in that mood.

The good and bad cop routine is something which would take ages getting used to. The sheer amount of whiplash and pressure which is being put on you on a daily basis is too much, it's too fucking much and you have no time to process any of it as you are forced into this new life without any sort warning. On the few rare occasions in which you are graced with the rare bliss of solitude, you sit at your new home and just think. Ponder. Scheme. You allow the luxury of fantasy to take over your mind - you run out of the front door, barefoot, broken and scared. Bruises, cuts, burns and plenty of other injuries litter your body like a stained canvas, old and used. You could already feel the aching of your unused muscles as they would scream at you to stop, lungs heavy with the need to just breathe you but you cannot because if you do they would find you and drag you back however they damned pleased.

In this fantasy, you managed to escape. The soft green grass touched your toes, the warm sun felt hot but incredible against your tired skin. It felt as though it was giving you a Welcome back! greeting as you would make your way towards the train station, with nothing but a few bucks and some pathetic excuse of an outfit on you. You had nothing but you could manage. Anything was better than being forced back into that Hell.

You let out a long sigh as vivid imagery engulfed you, it felt so real. There you were, out of the country and lost to civilization somewhere far, far away. Grunt and manual labor would be beyond difficult to start with but it was the best possible option as it would give you little to no attention. Besides, it would take ages for your abused body to get used to it, which would probably dock your pay a little but you didn't mind. Oh how perfect of a life that would be, with no one around to bother you ever again. Perhaps in a few years if you felt like it, perhaps you could step foot in a crowd without the paranoid fear of someone peeling your skin off with white hot flames of fury and jealousy.

Dabi's touch became like a second nature to you and you hated it. Whenever he could he would grab you and just press you close to him, not caring at all about any personal space. He was tired and bored, behave and he'll be good to you, maybe. Keigo would proceed to reprimand him for his attitude but you knew damn well that he was no better than the villain.

He too would take you if he had the chance. Frankly, you were never sure what you were more keen on - Dabi's devilish honesty or Keigo's sweet suffocation. Neither option was good but Keigo felt like a lesser evil, something you could manage with a kind word or two.

You couldn't help but to grunt as your eyes fluttered open. Looking around, the apartment was still vacant. Damn it all, you couldn't even fantasize without even thinking of the two.

Oh how happy they would be if they knew that fact.

You could already hear Dabi's satisfied grunt as he pulled you close to his chest, his touch rough and unforgiving. That's right you should be thinking about him, you should be worried about what he might do to you because mercy is not in his vocabulary. Despite his constant teasing and bullying, Dabi was in no mood for games. Sure, he was a sadist who took genuine pleasure in watching you squirm and cry, particularly if it was caused by his hand. His awful burns would take forever to heal, he sometimes wouldn't even allow them to heal. That was his own personal way of claiming you, putting his own little stamp of ownership somewhere visible. As stated, mercy is not something he is familiar with.

A kinder touch is more up to Keigo's speed.

Despite the beautiful wings on his back, the man was no angel and he was not guiltless. He was just as bad as Dabi but his own obsession simply manifested in a completely different manner. Instead of hurting you, the pro hero preferred to be doting and kind. Oh how he ached to touch you but whenever you would flinch away hurt him so badly, but he never put the blame on you. Horrible, mean Dabi was the one who messed you up, which meant that it was Keigo's job to fix you. The blonde just loved to bathe you, his fingers gently massaging your scalp as the scent of shampoo would fill his nostrils, a scent he hand picked in hope that you would like it.

They took so much from you. He had to make it up somehow.

It was during these vulnerable moments where he tried to get you to open up to him. There were times when he managed to do just that and have a proper conversation with you. He stored those precious memories deep inside his heart and he would replay them constantly in his head as he was out on patrol.

He couldn't wait to get home. Did you start to see him as desirable? A person of safety? God he hoped so.

There was no way out of this arrangement he made with Dabi, there just wasn't. It was hard to manage but it had to be done. Keigo felt bitter about the fact that Dabi was the one who spent most of the day with you. Keigo was unfortunately tied down by his hero work and public duties, which meant that he had to be extra careful about his activities with you. He couldn't risk the public knowing about you, it was too dangerous.

As for Dabi, he danced on a strange line of being allowed to do whatever he wanted while also somehow being able to do nothing. On paper that makes no sense but Dabi is just that kind of guy. He can have you for himself for the whole entire day but if you were spotted with a nefarious criminal such as him, he would be in deep shit. He was skilled enough to take care of this whole ordeal but still.

The relationship you have with these two is rocky. It's like trying to pick a rose and trying to avoid the thorns, only to end up getting pricked by an even bigger thorn. No matter where you go, run or hide, they are always there. Not even your own mind was safe.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yancore #yanderecore #yandere aesthetic #yandere male #mha dabi #yandere dabi #yandere dabi x reader #dabi #dabi headcanons #yandere hawks #mha hawks #yandere hawks x reader #dabihawks #my hero academia #my hero academia x reader #bnha #bnha x reader #yandere bnha #yandere mha #yandere mha x reader #yandere bnha x reader #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere boy #yandere boku no hero academia x reader #bnha hawks #bnha headcanons

[notiddygxthgf]

prologue

★ pairings: choso x f!reader

★ synopsis: World famous rock star Choso Kamo’s new live-in assistant is convinced that she can fix him – substance abuse issues and all. Tensions ensue, and as new feelings rise to the surface, the two find it difficult to maintain an appropriate workplace relationship (or; the one where an unstable musician struggles to keep it friendly with his assistant).

★ c.w.: none (more content warnings and tags)

★ a/n: don't be a stranger! leave some comments for me to read teehee

★ w.c.; 2.8k

smoke and mirrors; chapter index

THE MUSIC INDUSTRY BLEEDS YOU DRY. That’s just the truth. It takes every ounce of your creative passion and tramples on it. It takes everything from you, and then it takes more. I find myself reconsidering my career path on a daily basis. There’s only one thing, in fact, that keeps me grounded.

“Choso! Choso! Choso! Choso!” 

That. The chant of the crowd. The endless bodies waving their hands over the venue, reaching for me, singing for me.

I leaned my head back, feeling the cool breeze of the backstage air against my neck, against my trembling skin. Crewmembers swarmed around me like gnats, tweaking little details of my outfit – one had a black eyeshadow palette up to my eyelid and another was messing with my hair. She had said something about needing to look intentionally messy.

The low hum of their conversation was only background noise to me. I blew a bubble with the wad of gum in my mouth – a nervous tic that clearly betrayed the calm exterior I was trying so hard to maintain.

The girl who was touching my eyeliner up snapped the palette shut. My mind was elsewhere – it was out there. 

“Choso! Choso! Choso!”

I took a deep breath to steady my racing heart. The chant of my name reverberated through the walls, a frightening reminder of what lay just beyond the curtain. 

People. Thousands of them.

“Choso! Choso! Choso!” The chorus of voices seemed to grow louder. I shut my eyes, visualizing the sea of faces, the outstretched hands, the passion in their voices. The crowd– my fans; they were my lifeline. 

Another crew member informed me, “You’re on.”

I nodded solemnly, feeling that strange pit in my stomach. It was terrifying, it was familiar, it was… exciting. 

I took another breath, then I stepped forward. With each step towards the stage, the chanting intensified. The noise was like this strange, palpable force, urging me onward. I could feel the adrenaline coursing through my veins the moment I reached the edge of the stage. The anticipation was almost… suffocating.

I stepped out. Then, for a blissful moment, it all seemed to go quiet.

I took a moment to look at them, really look at them. All of them. The mass of humanity blurred into one collective wave of joy. From here, I couldn’t even make out faces. Only smiles, flashing lights, and limbs flailing. Signs with my name on it. People with love in their hearts. 

Nothing but them and me, hearts beating in tandem. I wondered how nervous they felt – if they knew how nervous I felt standing here before them. If they knew I had been nervously chewing on a piece of gum only moments prior.

Thousands of people who all came together for one purpose – to see me. A mosaic of adoration. 

I glanced down at my trembling hands, fingers clutching the edge of my guitar. The weight of the crowd’s expectations pressed down on me. The realization hit me a second time – they were all here for me. That both terrified and humbled me.

I licked my lips, gave my old guitar a strum, feeling those familiar vibrations amplified a hundred fold. It was loud, so loud that I could still hear it reverberating throughout the venue when I reached for the microphone.

I stole another glance at the crowd as a smile broke across my face. 

Deep breaths.

I shouted, “What the fuck is up, Paris?”

The response was deafening. The crowd erupted in cheers. I could feel their energy merging with mine – the lights, the love, the screams. In that moment, I remembered why I endured the trials of my industry. I remembered why I was still living – what I was fighting for. It was all for them, the countless faces who found solace and inspiration in my music. 

And with that realization, I felt my heart begin to race.

“How y’all doin’ tonight?” I asked.

They screamed back at me in response. I grinned.

“God, I love you guys,” I laughed. Strummed my guitar a second time. Looked at them. “I got a special show for you tonight!”

It was all for them. I do it all for them.

Life on the road was pretty crazy. I wish I could say that I had family to miss back home, but that wasn’t the case. I had been in and out of foster care for most of my life; had to grow up pretty fast so my brothers and I could stay off the streets. Other than the three of them, I never really had a family.

I turned to music as a crutch. I bought my first guitar with the first paycheck I earned – I was 16. I bandhopped for a while, alternating between the roles of lead singer, bassist, and rhythm guitarist. I found a passion for writing lyrics somewhere along the way. It felt nice, being able to put pen to paper and make my fucked up life sound appealing.

It was great.

I did basement shows right up until I turned 21. I would have been more than happy to keep on doing them – hell, sometimes I found myself wishing I could still fit those small, shitty little venues – but some big, music industry talent hotshot came and found me at one of my shows. He handed me a card. Told me he liked my sound, that I could be famous.

Who could have refused?

I never anticipated hitting it this big. Not that I’m complaining. It keeps a roof over me and my brother’s head – to say the least. I have more than enough money to live lavishly for the rest of my days.  I found my new family in my music team: my manager, my coordinators, my publicist. All of them. 

The music industry is notoriously blood-sucking. It’s not all sunshine and rainbows. I realized that rather quickly, though by the time I was hot enough to hire a whole team, I was in too deep. It all seemed so… superficial.

I grew to hate it.

My hatred only grew when I lost two of my beloved brothers – Eso and Kechizu. There was a shootout at the mall. They found themselves in the wrong place at the wrong time. I remember rushing to the hospital as soon as I heard the news. 

It was too late by that point, though. They had bled out long before I was able to see them.

I didn’t sleep for a week after that – I developed insomnia that would last for years to come. I spent my evenings curled up on my shower floor, sobbing into my own arms. It was the same after that, and then the day after that. I found myself spending all of my time replaying the memories in my head, thinking about where I went wrong.

It didn’t take long for me to find comfort in the lifestyle of the rich and famous – the drinking, the partying, the drugs. I would go on week-long benders, drinking myself into a sickened stupor, rolling up two joints a day, popping pills I didn’t know how to pronounce. Doping myself up so I couldn’t think about it.

Ecstasy, Molly, Coke, LSD, Acid – I’ve taken them all. Shit, you could probably find trace amounts of them in my blood at any given point in time.

Or… however the hell that shit works.

I took Adderall every day to keep me grounded. That’s what I told myself, at least. No doctor in his right mind would ever prescribe someone like me 80 milligrams on a daily basis. Good thing I paid mine enough to forget his hippocratic oath.

I wasn’t completely lost, though. I didn’t feel good about it. Yuuji, my only living brother, told me multiple times that I needed to cut down on my consumption. He wanted me to go to rehab. Shit, over my dead body.

He stopped bringing it up, but I could see it in his eyes – I was breaking his heart. I had to remind myself that he had lost his brothers, too, that day. Probably felt like he was losing the only one he had left.

I try not to dwell too hard on it, though. Got better shit to do.

Fucking hate the music industry most days. Everyone expects you to be all put-together, even though you wake up feeling like you dragged your feet through a field of broken glass shards. Even though you wake up every goddamn morning feeling you’re reliving the same day over and over again.

It’s like a painful reminder that the only people I have in my life are paid employees. I have no one – other than Yuuji – who I could confidently say would be there for me if I no longer had the funds to compensate them.

It fucking blows. I drink to forget about it. Drink and… well, everything else I put in my body.

Never put a needle in there, though… at least not for drugs. I’ve got more tattoos and piercings than I can count.

Enough about my unhealthy coping mechanisms, though.

My “family” never let me put out music I like making. They stripped my creativity from me. I lost all enjoyment in songwriting along the way. They turned me into a husk – a shell of the man I used to be.

I couldn’t recall the last time I felt real happiness. You know, the kind you got from taking a walk in nature and not from snorting and ingesting copious amounts of illicit substances. You would think that someone would see me greened out on the couch and know I was crying for help.

Nah. No one ever listens.

They never noticed. The only reason they cared about whether I was dead or alive was because I kept them well-fed and their pockets full.

That’s the fuckin’ music industry, baby. Nothing but a bunch of soulless, drugged-up puppets pumping out music they hate making. Begging for help.

But no one ever listens.

My head hung low as I snorted a line of powder off the tray my housemaid – or some other woman I didn’t know – had brought me. As quickly as she had appeared, she vanished. In her absence, I relished in the rush that hit me all too fast. 

I sniffed and coughed, shaking my head with remnants of the powder clinging to my nose. I blinked slowly, trying to make sense of my surroundings. 

The studio’s walls were adorned with gold, platinum and silver records, a shark contrast to the disheveled state of the room. Empty liquor bottles littered the floor. The air hummed with companionable conversation and the distant echoes of a repetitive beat.

As I raised my head, the scene unfolded before me. Half-naked women, draped in a hazy glow from neon lights, raised their glasses in a toast. The shots went down smoothly, accompanied by the thumping bass of my latest creation, reverberating through the studio's speakers.

The instrumental was infectious, quick and catchy, resonating with a bass that seemed to throb in sync with the erratic pulse of the room. My eyes fell to the scattered papers on the coffee table in front of me – lyrics scribbled in messy script on lined paper that had been torn straight out of my composition notebook.

Cigarette smoke, a whiskey glass,

Fading memories, like shattered glass,

Every sunrise feels like the last,

Trapped in the echos of the past.

Stuck in the rhythm of a broken clock,

Every tick’s an echo, every tock’s a shock.

A carouse of monotony,

Lost in a loop, just try’na break free.

Guitar wails like a distant scream,

Reality blurs, just like a dream.

Drift through the hours, like a ghost,

In this eternal purgatory, I’m lost.

Pouting, I wiped my nose, feeling the dull burn of the coke as it tingled in the back of my throat. I was congested as all hell. Still, I tried to sing the bridge beneath my breath. 

“Drift through the hours, like a ghost. In this eternal purgatory, I’m lost…” I hummed, pouting again when I realized I still didn’t like it. 

The women in the back of the room continued their celebration, completely oblivious to my internal struggle. They were too busy shooting the shit with my friends.

More glasses were poured, and one was handed over to me. I took a sip without looking – because it honestly didn’t matter what was in the cup, could’ve been piss for all I knew. The familiar burn of bourbon warmed me momentarily. Humming in recognition, I traced my finger over the rim of the glass, lost momentarily in the verbiage of my own creation. 

Something felt off.

Furrowing my brows, I stared down at the words on the page. I sniffled again. Then I downed about half of my glass of bourbon, standing up on unsteady feet. The room swayed slightly, especially when I walked over to the corner where the producer was set up – a lone figure surrounded by the chaos.

I nodded at him, muttering, “Play it again from the chorus. I’m try’na see somethin’.”

The producer – Chris, or some shit like that – nodded back. He pressed a button, and the beat started over. The room’s ambiance, fueled by laughter and friendly chatter, didn’t quiet down. 

I tried my best to immerse myself in the rhythm, but the distractions were just… it was just too much.

‘Guitar wails like a distant scream,

Reality blurs, just like a dream.

Drift through the hours, like a ghost,

In this eternal purgatory, I’m lost.’

I hadn’t realized I had forgotten to actually sing the words until my producer looked over at me expectantly. I shook my head, huffing out an exasperated sigh.

“Shit, sorry, take it from… take it from the chorus again, please?” My voice cut through the noise – or tried to, at least. 

The beat started over again, a few measures behind where I needed to be.

“Guitar wails like a distant scream…” I attempted once more. “Drift through the hours, like a lost– fuck, I fucked it up.”

The collective revelry around me was a wall – it fucked me up. I could feel a headache coming on.

“Can we pipe down a bit?” I groaned, massaging my temples. My ears began to ring a bit, growing louder with every passing second that the chatter continued. “Guys, shut the hell up.”

My pleas fell on deaf ears. The ringing persisted, drowning out everything else in the room. 

“Yuki,” I directed at her, a little louder now. She seemed to have been leading the conversation. “Yuki, please.”

No one ever listens.

And they didn’t. They weren’t fucking listening. I tried to make eye contact with her, but I couldn’t seem to make out her face from the rest. The room was blurry, moving side to side, hazy around the edges. I held my forehead, groaning quietly.

They were so fucking loud.

No one ever listens.

Downing the rest of my bourbon in one go, I – in a fit of frustration – hurled the glass against the wall above the couch where my friends were comfortably seated. It shattered, sending shockwaves through the room as stunned silence replaced the previous chaos.

“Yuki,” I mumbled, swaying slightly on my feet. “Shut the fuck up. I’m trying to.. Try’na fuckin’...”

“Choso,” She began quietly, her mouth slightly agape. Had she always had a twin sister, or was I dreaming? “Your… your nose– are you okay?”

I put a hand up to my nose, feeling around for anything out of the ordinary. My fingers were red when I brought them back, painted with a viscous crimson fluid. Another fell from my nostril onto the pale skin of my wrist. 

My nose is bleeding.

I wiped my nose, waving them off. “I’m fine,” I slurred – I wasn’t, least I don’t think I was, but the show must go on, or some shit like that. “Can we just… keep going, please?”

A thick, heavy silence enveloped the studio. With all of them finally keeping their mouths shut, I could hear myself think again. The ringing in my ears began to subside, and I, looking over my shoulder at Chuck– Chris, whatever the fuck– demanded, “Play that shit again.”

He swallowed nervously, clearly caught off guard by my outburst. Still, he pressed a button or two, and the song started all over again.

Drift through the hours like a ghost,

In this eternal purgatory, I’m lost.

a/n: hiiii! I hate the way this was written, but I always hate my first chaps hehe. NEXT ONE WILL BE SM BETTER I SWEAR!! this is gonna be a long, slow burn, smutty ass fanfic (loosely [very loosely] based on the show 'the idol'). and by based on ofc I mean I watched an ep and I was like damn I could make this better. Enter our beloved emo boy choso kamo. anyway!! comment your thoughts/wishes/etc!! I love an interactive community of loyal commenters and I loveee reading all of ur thoughts and lovely remarks!! keep them coming, and ill keep the chapters coming in retribution! love you bunches!

comments + reblogs are greatly appreciated!!

credits: @/2OARIN on twitter (cover art). If you know the other artist, please let me know, so I can credit them properly for their work! I obviously do not own jjk or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

taglist: @missphanosaur18 , @bontensbabygirl, @megumissunshine, @chocoyanchan, @littlelovebug98, @lucisimpongod, @xochyw, @jaegerstan222 , @electro-supremacy, @mellytheteddy, @clover0310 , @soraya-daydreams, @priussy, @insanehumantinker, @staygoldsquatchling02, @nonksity, @hinata7346, @chososwhoresblog, @ynjimenez , @soraya-daydreams , @nonksity , @hinata7346 , @armani78 , @mindurownbussines , @sad-darksoul , @sasuke-slut , @yuunie135 , @bratkuna , @aydene , @mshope16 , @pretentiousteentrash , @galactict3a , @kokos-property , @moonriseoverkyoto , @lyn-soso , @arilostie , @violetmatcha , @markleeisdabestdrug , @erensdior , @hp-simp505 , @fushiguro-kyuuuuuu , @bontensbabygirl , @switch-godess , @honey-yuh , @ddotsie

wanna join the taglist? | smoke and mirrors; chapter index

#smoke and mirrors ☄. *. ⋆ #notiddygxthgf ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ #choso kamo #choso #choso x reader #choso x you #choso x jjk #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo x you #choso kamo jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #choso fluff #choso angst #choso smut #choso kamo fluff #choso kamo smut

[ultrone]

PLEASE SHAWTY WRITE SOMETHING ABOUT LOTTIE FUCKING THE READER WITH A STRAP-ON PLEASE I’M ON MY KNEES BEGGING PLEASE

You couldn’t help but chuckle as Lottie reached into her bags and pulled out her favorite strap-on. You knew she’d forgotten to include some of the basics, like socks and a hairbrush, yet she had remembered that particular item. “Priorities,” she said with a grin. The commotion of the plane crash and early days of survival had kept you from spending time alone with your girlfriend, and it was driving the both of you crazy. So, less than 24 hours after settling into the cabin, you and Lottie sneaked away to a nearby shed for some much-needed quality time together. The intense desire and longing for each other's bodies had been building up for days—a rarity for both of you, given your typically insatiable sex drives that were usually fulfilled on a daily basis.

You felt the strap move in and out of you, sliding with your wetness. Your hips moved to the rhythm, thrusting harder and harder as the sensation grew in intensity. The walls of your pussy clung onto it, sucking it in and squeezing it tightly. Each time it moved out of you, it left an aching void that begged to be filled again. 

“Fuck, Lottie—” you exhaled hoarsely, the girl behind you groaning at the sound of her name coming out of your lips.

She was kneeling down behind you, thrusting hard and feeling the leather rub against her sensitive clitoris with every hit.

You gasped as Lottie grabbed you by the hair and pulled you back, your naked back pressed tightly against her breasts. You felt the heat of her body radiating through your skin, and heard her breathing grow heavier with each thrust.

She put one of her arms around your neck while her other hand gripped your waist tightly. Without slowing down her pace, she made you turn your face to hers, and then gave you a bruising kiss. Her tongue forced its way into your mouth as she continued to rock her hips against yours. Breaking off for a moment to catch her breath, she murmured against your lips, "You're taking me so well," before pulling you into another intense kiss.

Your head spun from the intensity of it all—the pleasure was too much for you to bear—but you wouldn’t let yourself break away from the kiss no matter how hard it became. You could taste her breath, feel her tongue moving in and out of your mouth in time with her hips moving in and out of yours.

Suddenly, Lottie pushed you back onto the blankets, pushing against the strap with a newfound vigor as she brought the two of you closer and closer to climax. She moved so quickly that you were barely able to keep up, but each time she hit against your sensitive walls, you felt an intense wave of pleasure course through your body. You moaned loudly, your fingers frantically clawing at the blankets beneath you in an attempt to find some kind of grip amongst the mounting pleasure. "Fuck, 'm gonna cum," you babbled incoherently, no longer able to form coherent sentences as lust consumed you.

"Cum for me, baby," Lottie said breathlessly above you. Her words only served to heighten your arousal further and before you knew it, an orgasm was washing over your entire body. You screamed out her name as pleasure engulfed you, the strap still moving in and out of you as if it was determined to take every last bit of pleasure from you. Your entire body shook and convulsed with each wave of sensations that coursed through it, until finally—after what felt like an eternity—the pleasure began to subside.

Lottie gave a loud cry of pleasure as your orgasm triggered hers, and soon she was coming down from her own high with her body still pressed firmly against yours. She stayed there for a few minutes afterwards, enjoying the afterglow while stroking your hair tenderly.

A few moments later, Lottie rolled off of you and pulled you into her arms, both of you exhausted from the intensity of what just happened. With tenderness, she caressed your cheek using her thumb, locking eyes with you before planting a gentle kiss on your forehead. "I love you," she whispered, her lips brushing against yours as she placed a soft peck.

"I love you more," you replied, holding her tightly as both of you gradually succumbed to sleep, finding solace in each other's arms.

#꒰ smut ꒱ 🔞 #lottie matthews #lottie matthews x reader #lottie matthews x you #lottie matthews x y/n #minors dni #yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets x you #yellowjackets x y/n

[kissitbttr]

hello! i read you miss having asks and i don't know if you maybe miss having some requests (in case you aren't taking any you can ignore this and i hope you'll have a good day <3)

but what about some domestic Miguel and spending your first Christmas together? just imagine sitting on the couch in front of the TV, with a blanket covering both of you, watching some way too romantic soap opera, while drinking some hot chocolate and just enjoy the moment <3

(i know this is so early and we are still in November, but I swear, I can already feel the nostalgic feeling of Christmas </3)

xmas with miggy? say no more baby!!

-

it is absolutely one of your favorite holiday, ever. the music, the decorations, the presents for your loved ones, the cooking and baking. everything about christmas just screams fairytale,

miguel has never been the one who’s fond of this specific holiday, or any holiday for that matter. he would drown himself in work to avoid any invitations from friends. sad but anything to get away from interacting with strangers.

now ever since you stepped into his life, he can’t help but see how this year’s christmas would be different. having you with him to celebrate together just changes his perspectives. now he has someone to hold and love, this christmas would bring joy into his life.

you and him had been pretty busy with the decorations and stuff. buying a Christmas tree, getting pretty ornaments, looking for presents etc.

“need a hand, baby?” miguel steps into the kitchen, seeing you take out fresh cookies from the oven. you look so… comfy. dressed in his old t-shirt with your hair tied up in a bun—his clothing is basically a dress so there’s no need to be putting on some pants other than underwear—

you nod, looking up at him before setting the cookies on the counter. “can you put those hot chocolates on the table, my love?” you ask with a smile,

his heart soars at the nickname before grabbing the two cups of hot cocoa with tiny pink marshmallows in them. “you pick or i pick the movie?”

you’re quick to raise your hand in a child-like manner, causing him to laugh. “me, duh!” you answer as if it’s the most obvious thing. “we’re tuning in The Mafia Dolls and La Reina Del Sur”

miguel groans at the choice, shaking his head as he put the tray down on the table before grabbing a blanket. “you just want to watch Kate Del Castillo because you have a crush on her” he points out,

shrugging you showcase an expression of no shame. “she’s hot. you know i would leave your ass for her”

miguel jaw drops open, hand over his heart as he watches you stifle a giggle. “i’ve had enough time dealing with men trying to hit on you on a daily basis and now i have to compete with Kate Del Castillo too?!”

“her and Eva Mendes” you nod, arms crossed, smiling to yourself as he rolls his eyes before throwing you a playful glare and sit on the couch. “you’re going to pay for that comment”

you give him a cheeky smile. grabbing two cookies as you stride towards him, his large arm coming to wrap itself around your waist. he gently pulls you down on the couch, letting your head rest against his chest as you feed him a cookie.

“mhmm” he hums in approval. “new recipe?”

“yeah. you like? grandma sent the recipe to me. said that i have to treat my man something nice every once in a while” you giggle to yourself as he put his arm behind you. his lips plants a kiss on top of your head.

“tell her i said thank you” he mumbles as he turns on the tv. “i like this you know?”

a hum rumbles from you as you lay your back comfortably against him, taking another bite of the cookie. “what is?”

then he smiles, eyes landing on you. his fingers move to stroke your soft hair gently, catching that sweet scent of your strawberry mint shampoo that he finds obsessed over.

miguel can’t exactly remember when he had something like this. probably in his childhood? not quite sure. even if it was true, he doubts that it’s actually memorable. he remembers there were a lot of screaming match and broken plates though. maybe that’s why he avoids christmas like a plague. it was never magical.

but you… oh god, you.

you changed it for the better. the decorating christmas tree, wrapping up presents for each other, counting fails at an attempt to create gingerbread house, cooking up delicious traditional food instead of unseasoned dish that he sees people are making. and it might not be a big christmas party like in movies or how his co-workers do it, but that’s okay really. that’s just how he prefers it.

you, him and christmas.

“being with you” he responds, not minding the chatters coming from the tv. “estoy agradecido por ti, princesa”

“so, so grateful” he mumbles, pressing another quick kiss on your temple.

his words cause your gaze to soften. you slowly turn your head to look up to him from the tv, who’s eyes glued into the screen. your heart warms at the sight of miguel being comfortable with you, a small smile attached to his face.

leaning forward, you give him a soft kiss on the corner of his lips. he sighs out of contentment at the gesture, hand around your waist tighten.

“i’m grateful for you too.”

-

aaa this feels like it’s rushed but i hope u like it anon! I’m sorry it took too long:(

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara blurbs #miguel o’hara fluff

[whimsiandwild]

Pairing: Astarion x Female!reader; Former Gortash x Female!reader

Word Count: 1400

Triggers [PLEASE READ]: Mentions of past abuse, panic attacks, PTSD, verbal abuse, implied non-consensual, hurt/comfort, some fluff at the end.

A/N [PLEASE READ]: So, this is coming from a very personal place upon some revelations I've had today. It's heavy so please don't feel obligated to read it. And please, please don't read it if you are triggered by any of the above; I know how hard it is to deal with this stuff on a daily basis and never want to be the cause for anyone. To anyone who does read it, thank you <3

“Tav, are you alrighht? What’s wrong?”

Icy fingers on your shoulder made you jump, grabbing the offending limb and shoving it off. Spinning around, Astarion grabbed the top of your arms to still you. The concern on his face had never been more genuine.

“Darling, are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine.”

Your smile didn’t reach your eyes and he frowned, taking your hand in his and linking your fingers as he led the party into Wrym’s Rock. He knew something was wrong, and that it had something to do with the man you’d all been summoned by, he just didn’t know why. Gods, you’d always hoped you’d never have to tell him.

There had been telltale signs that he’d recognised as the two of you grew closer, similar things that occurred in him when a particularly awful memory of Cazador resurfaced. He’d asked about it, but you’d always told him it was nothing. Just a bad memory you didn’t need to dwell on. And you hadn’t, not really. Sure, the trauma attached was still there but you could handle it, you had for years. But then you’d seen him before the fight with Ketheric Thorm. A man you’d hoped to never see again, now being ordained archduke of Baldur’s Gate.

The guards showed you into the ceremony hall, your hand sweating in Astarion’s grip as you began the long walk down the aisle; it felt like a lifetime, a force beyond your control forcing your legs to move. You couldn’t look up, feeling bile rise in your throat as you stared at the carpet. Everything you’d worked so hard to forget was coming back to hit you full force. You wanted to hurl, and cry, and scream, and run away. Mostly, you wanted to hurt him. Hurt him the way he’d constantly hurt you, but you knew that was a line you’d never be able to cross.

“Well, well, well. Look what’s been dragged back into my home.”

Your legs almost gave out beneath you, his voice still as charming and alluring as ever, your free hand clinging to your vampire’s shirt sleeve. Astarion had become more than a little concerned by this point, Lae’zel and Gale flanking the two of you.

“Still as ignorant and disobedient as ever,” he scoffed, and you felt Astarion tense beside you, your grip only tightening in an attempt to keep him by your side. “Look at me when I’m speaking!”

Without a moment’s hesitation, your head snapped up and you were staring into the all too familiar eyes of Enver Gortash. Still handsome as ever, and with that vicious glint in his eyes that always occurred when he looked at you, at his property.

He’d been Enver Flymm when you’d first met him. He hadn’t been the most loving of partner’s, but he showed it… in his own way. Soon, however, he got lost. Then Enver Gortash was born. An abusive tyrant who had put you through hell until you’d finally managed to escape. You could still remember that nigt. The way your wrists had bled as you’d tried desperately to break free of your restraints, the painful swelling around your eye and the deep gashes along your legs. The scars seemed to flame against your skin at the memory.

You couldn’t speak. You couldn’t breathe. Why was breathing so hard? How was everyone so seemingly fine? Astarion was staring at you in bewilderment, worry etched into his furrowed brow. You didn’t know what to say, couldn’t think of the words to convey the fear that was threatening to bubble over any minute and make you run screaming.

“Your manners clearly need improvement,” Gortash sneered, his hard, cold gaze never leaving your cowering figure. “Now, it seems we all have some things to discuss, regarding all this ridiculous Absolute business. However, I have a ceremony to begin. You will stay and watch, won’t you, kitten?”

The use of the old pet name he’d used to degrade you was enough to finally break your resolve. Bursting into tears, the last thing you saw as your companions dragged you away was his smug, arrogant smile.

His hands were everywhere. You tugged at your hands but, as always, the bonds were tight and unbreakable. Panic began to flood your veins as he grabbed at you too tightly, bit too harshly, moved your body too roughly. And there was nothing you could do but lay there and let it happen.

“I don’t see why you’re being so difficult, kitten. You’re normally much more compliant.”

Tears leaked from the corners of your eyes and wet your hair, shaking your head in denial. He was lying, you knew he was, but it still caused the same guilt and shame to flare up it always did. He was always so good at making you believe you were the problem, the one who’d done wrong. He’d done it so many time you almost believed him.

With a sharp tug at both your knees, he spread your legs as wide as he could, the sudden jolt of pain shooting up your thighs making you cry out in agony. One hand freed a leg but you weren’t brave enough to move it back. He used his now free hand to run against your core, smirking as he glanced in satisfaction at the slick on his fingers.

“You filthy little bitch. All this protesting and you’re already dying to have me.”

“Enver,” you begged, your lip trembling as he towered over you suddenly. “Please don’t.”

“Shut up!” he shouted, making you flinch and look away. He gripped your chin and forced your tearful eyes to stare at him. “You’ll take it, and you’ll enjoy it.”

You struggled against him as he lined himself up, screaming as he entered you with no care in the world for your wellbeing…

The screaming got louder and louder to your ears until you realised you’d screamed yourself awake, along with your poor partner. Astarion was bewildered as his hands cupped your wet face in an attempt to calm you. You were panting by the time you’d realised you’d been dreaming, your heart close to breaking out of your chest.

“Darling, what happened? What’s wrong?”

“Oh gods… he…. he-!”

You sobbed into your hands, unable to finish your sentence as he cradled you, embracing you for however long you needed him to. Eventually your tears stopped falling, though the ache in your chest wouldn’t fade, no matter how hard you tried to rid yourself of it.

Astarion was more quiet and patient than you’d ever remembered seeing him. He was clearly deep in thought, and you didn’t want to disturb him. Instead, you wrapped yourself around him and enveloped yourself in every aspect that was him. He was your safe space, and you needed to relish in that right now.

“I have to ask, darling,” he said quietly after a long while. “This Gortash,” He all but spat the word. “Did he… did he treat you as Cazador treated me?”

Nodding, you buried your face into his chest as his grip on you tightened. You were relieved he hadn’t asked you to elaborate; you didn’t think you’d ever be able to speak out loud the horrendous things that man had done.

“Tav, please know this, and know it to be true,” His fingers tilted your chin so you were gazing into his liquid crimson eyes. “If he comes near you again, if he merely looks at you, I will rip him to pieces, revive him, and do it all over again. You never need to tell me details; I’m sure I can understand well enough; but know I’m here. I won’t let anyone hurt you like that ever again. I… I love you, darling.”

Breaking down, you let him hold you for the rest of the night, your head on his chest as he comforted you with words of love and soft touches. Sniffing, you dried your face, and sat up on your elbows, staring down at him.

“I… thank you, Astarion,” you whispered, pressing a hard kiss to his lips. “I love you.”

He said nothing, just flashing you that charming smile of his before he pulled you back to him, holding onto you like his livelihood may depend on it. You stayed like this for as long as time would allow, and you’d never felt safer.

#TW: ABUSE #CW:ABUSE #PLEASE READ TRIGGERS #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate #enver gortash #lord gortash #astarion #baldurs gate 3 #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion x you #gortash x reader #gortash x tav #gortash x you

[humanitys-strongest-bamf]

Hi Kat! Congratulations on 2k followers congratulations 🍾🎊

May I request Dadvi fluff in pre-liberio; levi with his twin daughters, where Levi take his daughters and his wife to beach?

Thank you!!

hi san!!! i was giggling and kicking my feet as i wrote this, he's 100% the type to spoil his little girls

Drenched | 2K Follower Event | Canonverse Dadvi Drabble

✧ word count ➼ ~750 ✧ notes ➼ post-s3, fluff

"Daddy, can we go play in the water?"

Levi paused, his eyebrows coming together as one of your twins hovered in front of him, basically vibrating with excitement. You could clearly tell that Levi wasn't a huge fan of the idea of the ocean water, likely because he had no idea what was actually in it, no doubt being the actual definition of filthy.

He eventually let out an exasperated sigh.

"Fine," he groaned, "but first thing you're doing is showering once we get home."

You watched as both of your daughters raced each other into the water, grimacing when you saw one of them fall onto their knees, immediately getting drenched in the seawater.

Being outside the Walls made you uneasy. Levi had mentioned that there was a beach at the edge of the island and both your twins immediately began hopping up in excitement, begging to go. You knew that the Titans had long been extinguished, but it still took some getting used to.

Levi watched from the shore as you rolled up your pants and got into the water with your daughters to watch over them in case they tried to go deeper into the water or got hit by a particularly strong wave. They were mostly splashing around and having what looked like the time of their lives exploring the sea for the first time.

Knowing how attached they were to Levi, you weren't surprised when they were whispering amongst themselves as if they were plotting a heist before running out of the water and sprinting towards him at full speed.

By the time you looked up to see where your restless children had run off to, you saw them both trying to tug their unmoving father towards the water, who was already cursing underneath his breath about now having to deal with 'three little shits' on a daily basis.

"It's okay," one of them reassured, sounding completely serious, "if you start drowning, mommy can save you."

It took all your willpower to not burst out laughing both from their comment and the scowl that immediately popped on Levi's face as a result of it. Your children legitimately thought that their father was scared of swimming and that was why he was reluctant to get into the water, having yet to pick up the hint that Levi was avoiding the water because of how filthy it could technically be.

He put up a strong resistance for about thirty seconds before he let the two little girls grab onto him and "drag" him towards the water. He slightly stepped into the water, but kept his boots on so that the water wasn't actually touching him as an unsettled look appeared in his eyes.

"No fair!" the other one protested. "That doesn't count!"

You knew you had to go rescue him at this point.

"Girls, leave him alone or he's going to be grouchy for the entire trip home," you called out, slowly stepping out of the water.

By the time the sun started to set, the girls were worn out, and so were you. You didn't know if you had it in you to chase them across the entire beach again whenever they got enamored by some odd sea creature that you couldn't possibly attempt to name.

You untied the horses and secured their saddles when you looked over and saw Levi furiously patting the girls off with a towel before dropping a fresh set of clothes into their tiny arms.

"Get changed before you get sick," he scolded. "Or I'll have to feed you that bitter medication that you threw a fit about last time."

You immediately heard the girls scream as if their life was on the line as they ran towards the bathroom to change, noting the slight upturn of the corner of Levi's lips as he watched them race each other.

"Didn't expect you to have packed towels and a change of clothes," you muttered as you stepped up to him, "given how reluctant you were to let them get into the water."

Truthfully, he already knew exactly what the twins were going to want to do. He knew his kids, and he knew that they were going to want to fuck around in the water.

"...didn't want them to just be drenched on the ride back to the Walls," he eventually reasoned. "Plus, they're a pain in the ass when they're sick."

#levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi heichou x reader #captain levi x reader #levi fluff #follower event #levi #levi ackerman #levi heichou #captain levi #attack on titan #aot #shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyoujin #snk

[cinnamon-girl-writes]

scream queen !! . . . gojo x reader

one fall, geto and gojo team up to prank shoko and y/n for halloween. basically halloween inspired fluff!

fluff, gojo x reader, set during gojo's past arc, reader is a 2nd year student

by @cinnamon-girl-writes

OCTOBER, 2006

As the day drew to a close, the Jujutsu High gymnasium was abuzz with conversation.

"C'mon 'Ko, how can you not like halloween?" Gojo persisted, "Slasher movies and candy and staying up past midnight?"

Shoko scoffed. "You already stay up way too late, idiot." Geto chuckled softly at their antics.

You poked the girl next to you and she almost dropped her cigarette from between her teeth. "Are you at least going to dress up with me this year?" You asked.

Shoko rolled her eyes. "Not a chance."

Geto leaned in, joining the conversation. "Why do you hate Halloween so much?"

Shoko sighed, stretching her arms out above her nonchalantely. "I don't know, I just never really enjoyed it, y'know? Like, we see enough scary stuff every day, right?"

You collectively nodded at her words. There was no denying that she was right; your lives were plenty scary on a daily basis.

Just then, the bell rang, signalling it was time for your next class session to begin. You all gathered your things and headed to the main building, dropping the conversation.

The rest of the day went on as expected, after finishing your lessons and training for a few hours you all retreated around the campus. You and Shoko lounged in the common room with Nanami and Haibara. Gojo and Getou, however, were no where to be found.

"Do you think we should go look for them?" Haibara questioned. It had been almost two hours since you'd last seen them at dinner and it was starting to get dark.

"No, if they need us they'll call," Nanami answered quickly.

You intervened, "I'm sure they're fine, wherever they are. Probably off causing trouble somewhere."

"Yeah, they're fine. So, what are we watching?" said Shoko.

You collectively decided on Corpse Bride, a halloween classic but nothing too scary for late on a Tuesday night. You always found you were most happy in these quiet moments, curled up on the couch of the common room surrounded by your friends and not having to worry about techinques or curses or surviving.

That all went away, however, when thirty minutes into the movie, you began to hear strange sounds. It started out as a scraping sound on the floor, almost as if someone was dragging metal across the ground. Then you heard a faint laughing sound. You turned to Shoko who was beside you and a giggle from her confirmed she heard it too. You assumed Geto and Gojo had scuffled in from a night of mischief and were making their way to bed. You shook your head, smiling to yourself. Although you'd never admit it, you enjoyed spending your free time with them, chaotic as they may be.

Suddenly, you feel a tap on your shoulder. You glance at Shoko, who's dead asleep next to you, and then Nanami, who's resorted to reading a book that's settled in his lap.

You turn to see the looming figure of a masked man holding a chainsaw-- and let out a blood curdling scream.

Shoko jumped from her place on the couch, landing ten feet away; Haibara fell backwards off the edge of the couch; even Nanami leaned away and grimaced.

Startled, you tried to compose yourself, but it was hard to do so in the dark room with adrenaline coursing though your veins.

As you were coming to your senses, the lights flicker on and you see two people in front of you: Gojo, with a Jason mask resting around his neck, and Geto, holding a camcorder which was currently pointed at Haibara, who was still on the ground. Both of them were laughing their asses off, barely being able to breathe.

You hear a groan from Shoko behind you, "Ohhhhh, what the hell?" A "Come on, guys" is heard from Nanami, but you're still too in shock to respond.

Finally recovering from their hysterics, the boys gathered beside each other to review their footage. You hear the faint sound of your own scream and Shoko's yelp being played back on the tiny camera screen.

"You-- y-you should've seen your face!" Gojo says between breaths.

Standing up, you rubbed your face, trying to recover from the trauma you'd just gone through. Gojo notices the look on your face and pulls you in for a hug which you reluctantly accept since you needed the comfort.

Plus, getting a hug from Satoru wasn't that bad either.

"Aww, I'm sorry Y/n," Gojo said, gently stroking your back, "I could make it up to you with a kiss later?"

This caused you to shove his shoulder playfully, feigning digust. "Seriously? Gross."

You were interupted by Geto, "After that stunt, I don't think Shoko will ever like Halloween again."

You laughed, and Gojo behind you chimed in, "It was sooooo worth it though! We're gonna have this footage for life!"

The four of you settled on the couch, waving Nanami and Haibara goodnight when they decided they were tired (more like tired of this bs).

Everyone ended up falling asleep on the couch, so when the movie ended, Gojo shook Geto and Shoko awake, shushing them when they moved to wake you. Geto gave Gojo a wink and Shoko glared warning daggers at him as they made their ways to their own rooms.

Ever so gently, Gojo picked you up in his arms bridal-style and carried you to your bedroom, laying you in your bed.

As you were being tucked in, you stirred, blinking yourself awake.

"Satoru?" you questioned in your half-awake state, "Did the movie end...?"

He smiled to himself, pulling the sheets up to your chin. "Yeah, time to go to bed. Goodnight."

"Okay. Goodnight, Satoru."

Oh, and you did end up getting that kiss.

---

NOVEMBER, 2017

The fight had been going on for days at this poin. Everyone was on their toes, anxious and wondering what to do in the midst of all the chaos. It left you and Shoko in a strange position:

Gojo was gone. Getou's body was taken over long ago. Shoko had gotten word that Nanami was gone, too.

You had left the fight to go to you and Gojo's-- no, your apartment in Shibuya to gather supplies: bandages for the injured, water, food.

As you turned the key to unlock your home, you forced yourself to stare at the ground. You couldn't risk glancing at a picture frame and seeing the smiling face of your husband staring back at you.

You gathered the few things you came for and threw them into a bag, shuffling around the kitchen. You made your way into the living room, thinking you might grab some blankets to comfort the injured. As you were walking, you stumbled into a cardboard box, kicking it across the room on accident.

A stack of discs spilled onto the ground. You remembered, then, that Satoru had brought them out to show his students some footage of curses to study various cursed techniques. Of course, he had never gotten to show them.

Thinking nothing of it, you knelt down to pick them up. They were all pretty standard, marked with dates or the names of curses. One in particular, however, caught your attention.

You read your lover's handwriting, scribbled in black sharpie:

Scream Queen!!! '06 >;)

#gojo jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x reader #shoko ieiri #Suguru Geto #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #gojo x you #gojo's past arc #jjk season 2 #jjk gojo #jjk #Satoru Gojo x reader

[angelbaby-fics]

Hi love, how are you! I haven’t been on tumblr much lately but I still love you and your work!! I’ve been dealing with some tough stuff with my health and have been little a lot more lately. Would you write Cg!Ransom as just turning into a melted fit of mush for the reader?Just like absolutely spoiling them and doing whatever they want when they don’t feel good?

Love,

🐣

Daddy's Day Off

Word Count: 750

A/N: Aww hello angel! I'm glad to hear from you again & I hope you're always doing alright 💕 eeep I love Ransom so much, especially in the cold months I just want to cling to him hehehe 💕

It was a busy day full of stressful meetings and Ransom was not at all pleased about it. As much as he loved being extravagantly rich, the people he had to deal with on a daily basis almost made it not worth it. Almost. One thought of you, your bright eyes and contagious smile, and Ransom was reminded that he’d go through hell just to make that happen. He checked the time on his phone, just an excuse to look at the background image really. It was a picture of you and him, a selfie he had taken while you were curled up with him on the couch - he smiled at the camera, but your loving gaze was locked on him. Every time he saw this picture it reminded him what he did it all for.

He couldn’t do it today though, he just couldn’t. You’d had a nightmare earlier, screaming yourself out of slumber in the wee hours of the morning. The rest of the night was spent with you curled up against his chest and him hardly sleeping, dutifully keeping watch on you to make sure you stayed at peace. It broke his heart to close you out of his home office that morning, your rejected face echoing through his head as he tried to focus on today’s planner entries. All he wanted was to be finished with this stupid workday and to spend the rest of it with you. Your love was the only thing that could relieve his stress after a long day of dealing with a bunch of a-holes. Yes, he needed his baby just as much as you needed him. 

To hell with it. Ransom sent a short email to his assistant to cancel all his meetings as he needed to take a personal day. With that, he shut his laptop and tossed his work phone into his desk drawer, nearly slamming it shut. He was so eager to get away from all this and just relax with you. When he opened his office door, he almost expected you to still be there looking up at him with tearful eyes, but like the brave and independent baby he’d raised you to be, you had already begun trying to distract yourself until Ransom was finished with work. 

You knew Ransom didn’t like distractions when he was in work-mode, so although you’d rather spend the day curled up with him just as you’d spent last night, you took it upon yourself to keep occupied. That’s how Ransom found you on the floor of the living room, the massive flatscreen tv playing a marathon of Bluey episodes above you. Every color of crayon was scattered all around you, a pile of already finished drawings stacked upon the coffee table. At the sound of Ransom’s heavy footsteps, your head shot up from your picture of a cat in a garden.

“Daddy, you finished already?” You asked hopefully.

“Daddy got a surprise day off, baby!” He replied, scooping you up into his arms. 

“What are we gonna do?” You asked, looking up at him with more love in your eyes than Ransom thought he deserved in his whole lifetime. 

“Anything you want, babydoll. I’m all yours.” Ransom carried you to the giant sofa, keeping you pressed against his firm chest as he swaddled the two of you together in a big plush throw blanket. 

He handed you the remote, happy to sit through any cartoon or cheesy musical if it meant making you happy. When he heard your tummy rumble after a while, Ransom grabbed the house phone and ordered your favorite pizza, without even needing to ask if you wanted it. He knew you better than he even knew himself. He helped you eat your pizza as you watched tv, something you rarely got to do at the same time. When you finished eating, he carried you to the kitchen to get you dessert and a bottle, not wanting to put you down for even a second.

Hours later, the credits on your second movie of the day were crawling across the screen, and Ransom was sure you were fast asleep, when suddenly he heard your tiny voice muffled through the blankets and his comfy thick sweater.

“Dada?” You asked, even smaller than you’d been this morning.

“What’s up, babydoll?” He whispered down to you.

“You gotta get a day off more often.” You mumbled, drifting into sleep.

“I will, baby. I will.”

#little!reader #ransom drysdale x little!reader #ransom x little!reader #ransom drysdale #cg!ransom #cg!ransom drysdale #daddy!ransom #agere fic #chloe's fic #🐣

[askew-d]

mdzs midnight thoughts

lan wangji does not know that his forehead ribbon truly was askew the second time wei wuxian pointed it out, now does he

as i’ve mentioned before, lan wangji also does not know that wei wuxian had alike scars in his back as a punishment for having saved him

lan sizhui and the rest of the juniors have no idea about the story hanguang-jun and senior wei had together. if they saw the dire situation where they screamed at each other and fought, they’d be really shocked, because: seriously, these two men are so goddamn shamelessly affectionate in a daily basis, how could they ever had conflicts?

jiang yanli, jin zixuan, wei wuxian and the wens’ deaths were basically in the same couple of days. none of them actually know that besides wei wuxian. jiang yanli and the wens think they’ve died to save wei wuxian, but in the end it just spared him some more time. he died not long after anyway.

no one despite lan xichen has any idea why lan wangji was so interested in bunnies out of a sudden, right? he just one day appeared with a ton and they just thought, ‘oh yea, it’s hanguang-jun, we’ve got him covered’

if wei wuxian’s mother saw how much her boy tormented lan qiren and the lan clan in general, from what her reputation precedes, she’d possibly smile proudly

everyone still thinks wei wuxian was the preferred ‘son’ instead of jiang cheng. they think he’s got a privileged childhood for living with the jiangs being treated not as a servant, but as part of the family! they dont know everything he’s been through in that goddamn fucking environment!!

perhaps meng yao would’ve been more empathic towards wei wuxian if he actually got to know his tragic backstory in the streets and with the jiangs. maybe if he got to know him better, before the sunshot campaign events. they were treated unfairly in resembling points, weren’t they, after all?

nie huaisang and wen qing would be like brother and sister if they were to know each other. they never did. in fact, wen qing wasn’t spoken about or to enough.

mentioning the public eye again, for them it’s like wei wuxian was the dishonest and devilish son of the two most famous, righteous rogue cultivators of their age. and considering madam lan’s past actions, lan wangji is the son of a murderer. historically ironic.

wei wuxian is part of jin ling’s family three times. one as himself (martial uncle), second as being in the body of mo xuanyu (biologically an uncle) and third as being the husband of lan wangji, lan xichen’s brother, who’s sworn brother with his uncle (a very distant relative, but a relative likewise, especially since being sworn brothers is such an intimate thing there).

the lan disciples simply saw hanguang-jun, the epitome of righteousness and the king of blank expressions, pick a random gay demonic cultivator one day and let him tag along on his adventures only for them to get married later because, yeah, that’s the yiling patriarch, in fact, why nobody told me my idol had a situationship with the biggest badass villain in history??

from somewhere within, mo xuanyu is oddly satisfied for seeing wei wuxian getting a proper revenge for him and a bunch of other stuff, beyond having very gay sex with the hanguang-jun — can you imagine?! he must think that at least his body served for a good cause!!!

#wei wuxian #lan wangji #the untamed #mdzs #mdzs thoughts #mo dao zu shi #cql #mdzs wei wuxian #mdzs lwj #mdzs novel #mxtx mdzs #mxtx #jiang yanli #jiang zixuan #jiang cheng #the founder of diabolism #the grandmaster of demonic cultivation #wangxian #yiling laozu

[novasintheroom]

Can you imagine your wedding day with Vash?

It's sudden, that's for sure - both of you wake up one day, years into your engagement, and Vash has this look in his eye and asks, "Wanna get married today?"

Of course you say yes.

You both bully Wolfwood into officiating the wedding. He does it with grumbles, but you can see the pleased blush on his face at being so included. Meryl and Milly scramble to put together bouquets made of fake flowers and shiny metal bits found in the local pawn shop and just around town. Meryl complains that it should be more, that there should be a venue, decorations, something, but Milly can barely talk because she's so choked up about being made a bridesmaid.

Your dress is simple - something you packed away in your sack for fancier occasions. It's not even white, but it's special, now. You slip it on, pressing down the wrinkles from being at the bottom of your pack for so long. You have to go in your boots, and you worry you don't look like a bride.

That worry vanishes when you see the look on Vash's face.

You appear in the little church the town has, and you can hear the breath leave your man when you walk through the doors. He's staring. Of course he's staring, you look beautiful. Milly did up your hair the best way she knew how, and Meryl helped to clean you up and put some make-up on your cheeks. He's seen you in that dress before, and he still thinks it's perfect for you, how it hugs your curves and just screams you. Wolfwood has to nudge him a bit, giving him a cheeky smile when he sees the tears in Vash's eyes.

You walk down the isle to no music, and when you reach him, Vash reaches out his hand to hold yours. His thumb rubs your ring finger, absent of your engagement ring in favor of using it for the ceremony. "We'll fix that," he murmurs, and you smile at him with your own tears.

Wolfwood does his best at being a proper priest, for the most part. There's a lot of 'ums' said as he makes up his speech while going along. When you get to your vows, Vash pulls out a paper you didn't know he had and reads it:

"Mayfly, I didn't sit back and take inventory of your qualities and say 'this one ticks all the boxes, done.' I was drawn to you and profoundly lucky that you were drawn to me. And we started something that we still work on everyday, that gets deeper and wrinklier every day. I hope that doesn't sound unromantic, calling it work. I don't mean work like drudgery, watching the clock waiting for work to be over - I mean work the way artists talk about paintings as vital and prioritized. It's the most important work of my life, our partnership, and I cherish it. Also, to be clear, I am hopelessly in love with you. That helps. I am on a daily basis completely knocked over by the person in front of me; this crazy dancing, music humming, sweet and spicy woman that I get to spend my life with. It's just that life is long, and I know that loving well is a thing you do, not a lottery you win."

He goes on to promise to always cherish you, listen to you, love you the way you deserve. By the time he's done, you're a mess, and your make-up is running. You kiss him before Wolfwood can even say "I pronounce you husband and wife," but when have you two ever done things the "normal" way?

Credit to @cullinmcgree on TikTok for the vows I use here - her husband's vows; I fell in love with them and just had to share them in a short story with Vash! I hope one day we may all find someone who loves as ardently as that man loves his wife.

dividers

#trigun #vash the stampede #trigun stampede #tristamp #writing #vash x reader #vash the stampede x reader #reader insert #self insert #nova writes #trigun x reader

[brynnwrites]

blood stains - spencer reid

spencer reid x afab!reader (or any reader who menstruates)

Nope.

This was not happening.

You were dreaming, the red stain on the crisp white sheets of your boyfriend's bed was a figment of your mind's horrific imagination.

You reached down and dabbed at the stain, red residue rubbing off onto the tips of your fingers. It was real alright.

You scrunched your face up, screaming internally while you tried to figure out what to do. First things first, you would have to run to the living room to get a pad out of your purse. Without waking Spencer up.

You had only been dating for about three months. Of course, Spencer knew you had a period, but this was territory you hoped to not have to cross until the six month mark at the earliest. Things were still new and the honeymoon phase was in full swing. It wasn't exactly "I'm ready for you to see all my bodily functions" time in the relationship yet.

You knew in the back of your mind that he would have to see it. It wasn't like you could rip the sheets off without him knowing, seeing as he was dead asleep right next to you. Whether you wanted to or not, you were going to have to face this conversation.

You slipped out of the covers, the bed mercifully not squeaking as you stood. You made it to your purse without a sound, mentally high-fiving yourself. You were in the clear, for now.

"Y/N? Y/N!" Spencer's panicked voice jerked your spine straight. "Y/N, oh my god. No, no, no-"

He slid into the room, literally slid with his socks on the hardwood, his face looking downright petrified until he saw you standing in the moonlit living room.

"Hey, Spence," you squeaked. "Sorry, did I wake you?"

He was breathing hard as he brought a large hand up to rub at his chest. "I-uh, I rolled over and you weren't there. I opened my eyes and saw blood and I—what happened? Are you hurt?"

Your eyes widened as he rushed towards you, hands on your hips as he checked you over for injuries. It hadn't occurred to you that the bed looked like a murder scene—much like the ones that you and your boyfriend encountered on a weekly basis.

"Shit, Spencer, I'm so sorry," you groaned. "I'm fine, I just got my...period."

You winced, and his face turned from one of complete alarm to one of sympathy.

"Sweetheart, why didn't you wake me?" He rubbed a hand over the small of your back soothingly, bringing the other one to smooth your hair.

"I was embarrassed," you whined. "This thing between us is new and fun and I didn't want to gross you out right out of the gate like this."

Spencer laughed and you frowned.

"No, I'm not laughing at you," he reassured you, his hands running up and down your arms. "I just think it's silly that you thought I would be grossed out by something normal and healthy when we see mutilated bodies on a near daily basis."

When you thought about it like that, you couldn't help but laugh too.

"Listen," he was suddenly serious, holding your chin with his thumb and forefinger. "I know things are technically new between us. But remember what I told you that night I finally confessed that I'm hopelessly in love with you?"

You grinned, biting your lip. You remembered a lot of things about that night. The way you and Spencer had spent two years pining after one another until it finally came to a head in a cozy inn in Alaska on the last night of a case. How you danced in the snow and made bold confessions before warming up in the sweetest way in your room, trying not to wake Emily up next door.

"Which part are you specifically referring to?" You asked with a smirk.

He flushed pink, dropping his head for a second before bringing his eyes back to yours. "When I said I'm all in? That you're it for me? I meant it. No menstrual cycle or anything else could ever scare me away."

"Is it possible for me to love you even more?" You smiled, lovesick eyes gazing up at him before reality set in once more. "But your bed, it's covered in blood and so are my shorts and-"

"Come with me," he smiled, taking your hand and leading you back towards the bedroom.

Confused, you followed, until he stopped in front of his chest of drawers. He opened the top one on the right side and your jaw dropped. "What is this?"

"It's your drawer," he said proudly, gesturing to the contents. "I was going to show you today, actually, but we got back so late that it slipped my mind. I went and got you a toothbrush, toothpaste, pads, tampons, underwear, and some extra pajama pants and shorts. I would've gotten you shirts too but you usually steal mine anyways—"

You couldn't help but cut him off with a kiss. "Spencer. You're perfect."

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "No, I'm not. I just wanted to make you feel at home here."

Your heart tugged in your chest. Was he real?

He picked up a pair of plain black panties and some new blue sleep shorts with little white clouds on them. He placed a pad on top and then pushed the pile into your hands, ushering you to the bathroom.

"Hand me your stained shorts and underwear when you're done. I'm going to throw the sheets in the washer," he said, moving back to the bed.

You couldn't help but feel like the luckiest girl in the world. Once you were situated with fresh clothes and a pad secured in place, you returned to the bedroom. He already had fresh sheets on the mattress and a small heating pad plugged in on your side with a glass of water and some painkillers.

You fought the tears welling up in your eyes. You had never felt so absolutely loved and cared for in your life.

"I'll take those," he appeared next to you, gently taking the blood soaked clothes from your hands.

You felt a little awkward giving him your period blood-stained clothes like that, but he didn't even flinch. You thanked him, taking a few sips of water with the pills. You found him at the utility sink in the laundry room, rinsing your clothes in cold water to get the blood stains out before washing them.

You wrapped your arms around him from behind, resting your head against the lean muscles of his back. "You're an angel, Spence."

He hummed contentedly. "Just doing my job, honey. Go lay down with the heating pad, I'll be there in a minute."

He turned to give you a sweet forehead kiss before wringing out your clothes in the sink. You reluctantly padded back to the bedroom as the cramps set in. You curled up in a ball on your side, the heating pad situated snugly against your pelvis.

Warm arms wrapped around you before you felt Spencer's entire body heat surround you, tugging the covers up over you snugly.

"Where did you learn to do all this?" You asked softly.

"I'm a doctor, remember?" He teased, tickling your side lightly.

You giggled and squirmed. "You're not a medical doctor, genius. Seriously, where did you learn all about periods?"

He exhaled slowly. "My mom's memory issues started pretty early when I was graduating high school. Whenever I would come home from college, there would be little things she'd forget. Sometimes she would forget when she had gotten her period, and I would help her clean up her bed and get her set up on the couch. Besides, it was just me and her growing up. I was a naturally curious child so she had to teach me about feminine menstruation pretty early when I found her pads in the trash can."

You snuggled deeper into his embrace. "You're such a good man, Spence. You're an amazing son, an amazing FBI agent, and an even more amazing boyfriend. I honestly don't know how I deserve you."

He kissed your shoulder, inhaling the scent of your shampoo. He always said he loved the coconut scent on you. "I'm the lucky one. I kind always figured I would die alone."

You snorted. "You might wish you could die alone after a few years of me. I can be a mess sometimes."

He shook his head against you. "Everyone's a mess. But you're my mess."

You smiled, reaching back to scratch at his scalp like he loved so much. He hummed, leaning into your hand.

"Want me to massage your stomach?" He murmured against your ear.

"Please," you sighed.

He wasted no time in moving his large, warm hands to your lower stomach, right above where your uterus was currently throwing a tantrum. He massaged light circles and tested different patterns, asking you every few minutes if the pressure and motion was okay.

Soothing relief gradually took over and you felt yourself on the brink of blissful sleep. "I love you, Spencer," you whispered in the dark.

"I love you too, Y/N. Get some rest." Spencer kissed the side of your head, never stopping his soothing movements against your stomach until you were fast asleep.

You woke the next morning to the loss of Spencer's body warmth and frowned until you smelled pancakes. He was soon in the doorway, carrying two plates of chocolate chip pancakes, cups of orange juice gripped precariously in the crooks of his elbows.

"Good morning. How are you feeling?" He asked, placing the plate of hot pancakes down on your lap. He set the orange juice glass down on the nightstand before circling to the other side to climb in next to you.

"Much better. What's all this?" You asked, a grin spreading over your lips.

"I read that chocolate, in small doses, can actually help ease period cramps," he said with a bashful smile, gesturing to the pancakes. "Many medical professionals believe that's why most women, even ones who don't particularly like chocolate, crave it on their period."

You took a big bite, moaning at the warm sweetness. "It's delicious. Thank you. And it's really sweet that you did all that research."

"There's no need to thank me, honey," he said, smoothing your hair. "I like to think I'm good at taking care of people."

"You are," you agree. "I hope I can take care of you the same way."

"Well," Spencer chuckled, "I don't get periods, but you take care of me all the time, even when you don't think about it. Like when you bring me food when you know I haven't eaten on cases. Or when you give me scalp massages when you can tell I've had a stressful week. Or when you take my dry cleaning with yours because you know I'll forget. You do so much for me and I don't tell you thank you often enough."

You shrugged. "That's no big deal."

"It is," he insisted. "You do it not because you have to but because you want to. That's what makes it meaningful."

"You're the first man I've ever really felt that kind of thing for. The want to care for them. You mean the world to me and I want to help make you happy," you smiled.

He took your hand, kissing your palm with chocolate pancake lips before clutching it to his chest. "You do make me happy. Always."

#criminal minds #criminal minds imagines #imagines #fluff imagines #x reader imagines #x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #fluff

[lindstromm]

Let's talk about Reynolds.

He's so good at keeping secrets. He would have known about King George's fits since he started working as his valet. Perhaps he's known since the fits started. Reynolds is a fictional character, but the book written about the show says that Reynolds and George were playmates as children. They grew up together. Reynolds was raised to be the King's valet.

Before Charlotte joined their court, Reynolds and Brimsley became a couple. These two were already together, already comfortable with each other, yet Reynolds never gossiped about George.

Reynolds has been sworn to secrecy. He knows the reality of the King's madness. He sees it on a daily basis and more up-close than even the doctors or Augusta see it. He hides the truth, even from Brimsley, even when Brimsley finds out some details (like seeing Munro in the cellar), even when he gets angry that Brimsley told the Queen what he saw. Reynolds never breathes a word to Brimsley about the King's madness, until the King's fit in the garden and you see how devastated he is that Charlotte knows. He failed.

Reynolds' devotion and hopelessness come out strongly in 1x05. He's hiding Munro's torture, refusing to discuss anything with Brimsley even though Brimsley now knows the King is mad. Brimsley snaps at him, is visibly displeased with his passivity and reticence, and yet Reynolds still says nothing. Brimsley tries. He paints over the wall and offers to screen off the garden, and Reynolds mocks him for it. And yet. And yet when Reynolds returns to Kew after seeing Brimsley's effort, that's when he forces his way into Munro's torture chamber to try and save his King. Brimsley's hope inspires him, and that ends with Reynolds again seeing the futility of his actions, this time slumped against a wall with his ears ringing from the force of the blow and his King's screams.

When Charlotte goes to Kew and demands to see the King, even with Munro insisting that the Queen cannot see the King, Reynolds tells her where George is. Reynolds, as a servant, basically isn't allowed to have emotions, and Freddie Dennis plays all his devastation and inner conflict so subtly. Just the expression in his eyes and bit around his mouth betray how much he cares. It comes out in his conversations with the King, but in public, there's barely anything there.

Charlotte throws out Munro and takes over. Charlotte tells him the King is well. George insists he's well now. Reynolds should know better than to hope, but he allows himself to be talked into hoping that, if Charlotte and George can be together, then he and Brimsley can be together. He says the most effusive line he's got in the entire show:

And then George utterly fails to address Parliament. He can't even get out of the carriage. Charlotte wonders what happened, because he was fine when he left. And Reynolds loses his composure. "He was not fine!" he snaps at her. Reynolds has a lifetime of learning George's tells, and George was not fine. "That was merely hope." Such a damning thing to say about hope. It's no better than delusion.

Reynolds has a unique emotional arc in this show. He knows -- all the way through the show he knows the King is mad and that it won't get better, and yet he's surrounded by so much hope in the persons of Charlotte, and George, and even Brimsley, that he allows himself a few moments of hope, despite the King's madness, despite all he knows about how hope is a trick and a delusion. Reynolds hopes.

And then he disappears.

#reynolds #reynolds x brimsley #queen charlotte a bridgerton story #bridgerton queen charlotte #freddie dennis #brimsley x reynolds #brimsley #queen charlotte #king george bridgerton #character meta #reynolds character meta