#༄ : sunshine anon.

[damiel-of-real]

gaster hotdog comic here pleaseplease please

cackling. ok sure

SEQUEL

[meagancandraw]

i LOVE how you draw sun SMM 😭💗

TY!!!! I love drawing Sun a lot! I was gonna doodle smth cute and happy, but today's EAPS episode HURT, so have some Sun and Sunshine (aka EAPS!Sun) hurt/comfort instead

[onmyyan]

Ain't no sunshine

A/N: neglected reader x yandere batfam part one if y'all like this I'll continue it feedback always welcome 🤗 part 2

Your mother always spoke so fondly of your father, this certain warmth fell over her whenever you asked about him, as if he was the great love of her life, but even at your young age, you could also sense the heavy air of sadness around her whenever you brought him up.

As a child, your curiosity about the man seemed to be never-ending, it didn't help that your mom talked about him, about how you'd meet him someday. She inadvertently set you up, instilling you with this unfortunate expectation of him being just as excited to meet you as you were him.

Having the city's most famous bachelor as a father felt like some weird dirty secret. Seeing him on TV with his adopted kids- how happy they looked filled you with such a profound sense of longing, a feeling you were far too young to understand. TV was the only reason you could even put a face to a name, he was constantly in the news. Your childlike curiosity and fondness for the man soured with each view of him wrapped around some model or cutting some stupid ribbon where the crowd around him applauds every time he so much as shifts.

Your mother never badmouthed him despite the way he so clearly abandoned her, she had this fantasy where he'd come walking in the door declaring his undying love, over the years you learned to simply smile and nod, you knew it was a delusion.

She never allowed herself to move on, it was something you'd forever hold against the man. He'd ruined your mom in a way she was incapable of recovering from and that alone had Bruce on your bad side long before the unfortunate day you were dropped in his life.

The woman loved and raised you as best she could but a single mother forced to support herself through her pregnancy, could only do so much. In truth, you'd been forced to grow up long before you were dumped at Wayne's doorstep. Your sweet mother had been caught in the criminal underbelly of Gotham, something that seemed to happen to many good people in this town, she turned to unsavory means to provide for you and it caught up with her quickly.

She worked double shifts so most days you had to walk home alone, thankfully the local scumbags of your neighborhood had a soft spot for the woman and in turn, you. Despite how dangerous and crime-riddled your neighborhood was, you never felt afraid walking home, not until the day the firetrucks went screaming past you, something about them had your stomach sinking, your little feet pumping faster towards your home, you smelled the smoke before you saw it, and you'll never forget the sight, how dark it made the already grey Gotham skies, how horribly loud the sirens were, the way your neighbor picked you up, shielding your eyes as he pushes you into his chest. You can still remember the heat from the flames as they consumed your small home. You stood unmoving, unblinking as the roaring fire destroyed everything you'd ever known.

To make matters worse, Jim Gordon, the chief of police happened to be the cop on call, and because of that he inevitably noticed something in your eyes, something in your face so strikingly familiar, that despite this being your first meeting, he could feel in his gut he knew you. It bothers him so much that he follows his hunch and does a blood test the second they get you to the station, his theory is confirmed when your DNA comes back matching the Playboy of Gotham City

Jim tries to comfort you but he knows you'll never be the same after losing your mother. He takes you straight to Bruce's door hoping your Father could help soothe the unimaginable hurt you were going through.

Bruce had no idea how to deal with you. In his defense, you happened to come into his life broken, needing guidance and parental love, at the worst possible time, the same day you're plopped at his feet is the same there's a massive breakout at Arkham, the casualties are already in the fifties, not to mention how high that number would jump the longer he left his more worrisome foes out.

In this mess of emotional turmoil, the last thing Bruce needed was a kid plopped in his lap, but it's what he gets. He was seconds from suiting up when Jim dropped you off.

With some half-assed excuse, you don't even really register, Bruce ushers you inside by the wrist only to drop you off with Alfred, he bolts to the batmobile in an effort to not waste any more of his time, knowing he could be saving lives.

He swore to himself once he fixed this problem, he'd give you his full attention, after all, he knew exactly what you were feeling right now, all the confusion and guilt, the anger and despair, he knew he was the one to comfort you, who'd be able to give you the support you needed.

The thing is, problems in Gotham are never truly quite fixed, are they?

Alfred doesn't know anything about your situation other than that you were Bruce's daughter, he can tell you're traumatized by the glossy look in your big eyes, how you limply held his hand as he showed you to the kitchen, he treats you kindly, speaking softly and getting you settled in your too big room in your too big bed, it felt so bare, so empty, it made that hollow feeling in your chest deeper.

This is the first of many nights you cry yourself to sleep.

The next day Bruce officially introduces himself, sitting across from you at a large table, the distance feeling three miles long. You numbly eat, taking small bites, not truly hungry, but you didn't want to hurt the nice Butler's feelings after hearing he made every elegant dish before you. You're still quiet and don't look happy to be here but you respond when Bruce asks you questions, wanting to be cooperative, because, despite the hellish situation, you need a parent right now.

He can only offer you this brief moment of connection before he's called away, Batman's job was never truly over after all. He gives you a stiff pat on your shoulder before leaving, it's the most he's touched you since you've come here.

At that moment, swallowing how uncomfortable you were in your new situation, you stop him with a gentle tug to his arm, eyes teary and wet, your young mind needed the comfort of a trusted adult, needed someone to look at you with a warm smile and tell you it was all going to be okay, but you can't ask for it... The words dry and shrivel on your tongue, so instead you simply stare at him, eyes full of a mix of emotions, silently pleading for him to stay, to hold you, anything, other than walk away.

But he doesn't, what he does is give you that perfect T.V. smile, the one you grew up seeing him give at charity galas and somehow it felt warmer through the screen, he removes your hand gently, "I'm sorry (Y/n), I really have to go, if you need anything at all Alfred can help you out okay? I'll be home soon." The smile he sends you doesn't reach his eyes as he rushes to exit, this is the first time your father breaks your heart.

The second time he breaks it is when he introduces you to some of the rest of his family. Dick Grayson needed no introduction as his adoption into the Wayne family had been heavily televised, his face was the one you were most familiar with, despite this, it was still odd to meet someone you'd grown up watching on your old little television with envy in your (e/c) eyes, the feeling of otherness was only amplified as you walked into the manor's dining room on what looked like a sweet familial lunch, the dark-haired man opens his mouth to greet you but is cut off by Bruce's stern voice, "(Y/n),

The third time Bruce breaks your heart is when Damian arrives, he shows up a good year after you, by now your were closest to Alfred, you'd made a habit of texting Dick and Barbara updates on Bruce and the homes state, considering they didn't live at the manner like Tim, and only ever rarely received texts back from Barbara.

The moment you meet your younger brother you can sense the difference between the two of you instantly. He looks like Bruce, standing tall despite being shorter than you, he turned his nose up at you as Bruce introduces him. Dick is there too, which makes things worse because of the visible effort he's putting into Damian.

You do your best to try to befriend him at first, offering to show him around the large manner to which he scoffs. Like you've offended him with your question.

"As if I need a nobody like you to show me around my home." He never hid his feelings of disdain, often and frequently letting you know just how inferior to him he thought you were, granted at this point Damian thinks this about most people, but it still felt like a knife twisted in your gut each time he ruthlessly rejects you.

It doesn't help that Bruce seems so eager to spend time with him, how they're always together when you had to fight him to spare you five minutes, they bonded so fast, it made your insecurities bubble over each time they scurry off together in a rush, you once grew brave enough to ask them if you can join but the second the request leaves your lips, Bruce is shutting it down.

"I'm sorry, I have business at the office I need Damian for, next time." Bruce says as they leave, his smile just as empty as his promise, the smug look Damian gives you feels like gravel and dirt being smeared into your carved open flesh.

You try to talk to Dick whenever he comes around, one afternoon, the rain is so heavy in Gotham you decide to stay home, a small voice inside you cruelly reminds you it was also a cheap ploy for some kind of attention from Bruce, by the afternoon you figure the school has alerted him of your absence, deciding to face whatever consequences awaited you, you go downstairs, subconsciously keeping your footfall light, a nervous habit you picked up after Damian said you shook the whole house when you walked.

You overhear him talking with Dick in the kitchen when you tiptoe down the stairs, you were quiet, so quiet they don't hear you, "How's the case going?" There was always this audible warmth in Bruce's tone whenever he spoke to Dick, "Fine, I got a lead I'm pretty confident with, gonna-" He stops talking as you step on a creaky floorboard. "My department is pretty confident that is." You round the steps with a small smile, but only Dick returns it.

"Hello, how've you been?" you'd ask earnestly, "Good thanks!" he'd say, but that would be it, the friendly man was never mean to you per se, he just had this terrible habit of forgetting you. You kept to yourself a lot, seeing you so rarely it felt hard not to forget when he had so much going on, not only in Bludhaven but Bruce had been calling him to Gotham more and more to help deal with Damian, he had his hands full, not to mention the sudden rise of crime in Gotham.

Barbara likes you, she really does, but being Oracle took up every moment of her free time, she was a focused woman and people in this town always needed her help. She had a room in the manner dedicated to her vigilante work, the villains were getting bolder and more frequent in their attacks and Bruce needed her help constantly. And it wasn't just him calling on her skills, everyone was constantly asking her for things because they knew she could get them, that's just how she was, everyone but you.

Whenever she was in the manner working, you were always the one to tell her dinner was done or remind her to drink water, and bring her coffee when she hadn't left her office all day, you were reaching out in a way that didn't overwhelm her, like you could see she was stressed, but she was like a horse with blinders on.

Tim meets you while he's still neck deep in his search for revenge against captain boomerang, which unfortunately means he's short-tempered and stuck in a permanent work mode, he's cross with his close family, so it's no surprise he's even quicker to anger with you, you're intentions are as pure as can be, you see him awake late into the night, his bedroom door open, and say genuinely, "It's so late Tim, maybe you should try to get some sleep-"

"Maybe you shouldn't stick your nose where it doesn't belong?" He snaps back without so much as looking away from his screen, he was already on edge, defensive as Bruce had been nagging him all day not to overwork himself, he says this with pure venom, so much irritation and malice it makes your bottom lip wobble, he doesn't see the way you flinch at his anger, the way you sink into yourself.

It seemed like each time you tried to reach out to them, to bridge the obvious gap between you, it just made things worse. His comment hit you like a bus, only furthering the nasty idea that had been gnawing at you since you'd arrived, you didn't belong here.

You didn't belong with them.

When you meet Jason, it's about a year and a half into your stay, you were in the same uncomfy position in terms of your closeness with the Family, or rather lack thereof, and the day you meet, things are bright for the first time since you've moved in. You're in the kitchen making yourself lunch when he stealthily climbs in through the window, this scares the shit out of you, having never met him before, you brandish your peanut butter-covered butter knife towards him, "Woah! Easy there, I used to live here I swear." Jason says clearly amused by your fierce stance, he smiles at you with a warmth you'd grown unfamiliar with, "Shit- sorry I thought you were a burglar or something." You say laughing off your nervousness, dropping the knife in the sink as he leans against the counter.

"And if I was..you planned on buttering me to death?" He teases, you feel yourself snort before you can stop it, "Maybe, consider yourself lucky we never have to find out." This makes Jason chuckle under his breath, it still felt extremely weird for him to be back here, just recently becoming cordial with Bruce, but he enjoyed your company. nonetheless.

"You're (Y/n) right? Bruce's newest kid?" He notices the way your smile falls, how you turn to finish making your lunch, the mere mention of his name seems to deflate your once bright aura. "That's me." You seem to say this with a heaviness that doesn't belong on someone so young, "Who are you?" He scoffs lightly at your question, before leaning over, swiping half of your sandwich with a playful grin, "Wow, they didn't tell you about me? Figures, whatever, I'm Jason." He shakes your hand, and for the first time in years you feel good like you weren't on the edge of fucking something up, but then Jason's watch beeps and he leaves. He gently ruffles your hair, "Good to meet you kid, see you around yeah?"

Jason was like the sunshine breaking through the clouds of your new life, but eventually, his own life gets busier and busier, his monthly visits turn into a short call every once, and not long after, even that stops, he's busy ripping Gotham criminals to pieces, consumed by his rage. He just assumes you're fine, that everything is okay, after all, you never complained about it.

You know something is going on with them, their hushed conversations and seemingly never-ending parade of bruises and mysterious cuts start to add up, the way they disappeared at night, but it's only on your fifteenth birthday that you finally figure out what they'd been hiding. Bruce and Damian suddenly rushed away from your birthday dinner, you turn on the news as Alfred boxes up the mostly untouched food, watching you blow out your candles with a sad smile., Bruce and Damian's portions go cold and untouched.

Batman and Robin arrive on the scene just a few minutes after your father and your younger brother dash away. it's only then do you really notice how similar the dynamic duo looks to your two family members.

This is the final straw, when you realize what they've been hiding under your nose this whole time is.. infuriating to say the least, all of a sudden the isolation and otherness makes sense, of course they excluded you, you weren't a member of their little club. This night is the last you spend yearning for them, the bitter, festering anger that had been building over the years only intensifies as you stew in your rage.

[pathologicalreid]

Okay before i say my request can i be your 🐚 anon ??? that's all i ask in terms of that BUT:

hear me out- so spencer reid x bau!fem!sunshine!reader gets kidnapped outside of work and her kidnapper tortures her and the works, but the worst part is he has a live feed directed for the bau so they just have to watch the poor girl get borderline killed but she's still fighting back and so eventually he turns the feed off and they go to the unsub once they find his location but before they burst the door down they hear the reader like genuinely begging for him to just kill her and it's GUT WRENCHING. then they get him and she free and she's immediately back to her bubbly self until randomly she like shows up at his door and spence tells her it's okay to not be okay and she just breaks down RAGHHHH

i'm so sorry for writing you an essay but I got the idea and simply couldn't let it go to waste 😭

-🐚 (i hope if that's okay with you???)

epiphany | S.R.

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst; re: hurt/comfort content warnings: bau!reader, sunshine!reader, kidnapping, violence against reader, reader begging for it to be over, gun violence, general cm violence, exhaustion, hospitals, poor coping mechanisms and unhelpful therapists. word count: 2.92k a/n: of course you can be my 🐚 anon! this is a story in four parts, before, during, after, and epiphany! i hope you enjoy it <3 thank you SO much for requesting!

epiphany - a moment of sudden revelation or insight.

before

The horrified look on Garcia’s face couldn’t possibly be a good sign, “Uh, sir,” she addressed Hotch, “I’m being sent an encrypted link from an admin on the UnSub’s site.”

Responding with a stiff nod, Hotch looked toward the screen in the roundtable room, “Open it.”

Each team member had an instant reaction to the image projected onto the large screen. JJ had covered her mouth with her hands, Morgan had to peel his eyes away from the screen, and Spencer couldn’t get himself to do the same thing. Despite his better judgment, he kept his eyes on the screen.

“He’s killing her,” Emily observed, watching with a horrified expression as the UnSub hand his hands around your throat. You were dangling from the ceiling by your bound hands, leaving you flailing as your body begged for air.

Hotch leaned intensely over Garcia’s shoulder, “Is this live?” He asked, voice raising ever so slightly as he watched the tech analyst’s fingers work nimbly across her keyboard. As she nodded, he continued, “Can you find where he’s streaming this from?”

Parting her lips, a determined look settled on the blonde’s face as she continued to type, “It looks like he’s running it through a boatload of different proxies – it’s gonna take me a minute.”

Rossi shook his head, leaning over the roundtable, “She might not have that long.” It was the truth, a harsh truth, but the truth, nonetheless.

It had been one minute and thirty-seven seconds already, brain death would occur after four minutes, maybe five if you were lucky. Spencer didn’t want to have to take that chance. “Oh god,” Penelope cried, working through the tears that had started to stream down her face, “Okay, she’s in this general area.”

“Keep going,” Hotch ordered succinctly. “Everyone else, look at the picture. Is anything recognizable about the background?”

The lighting was dim at best, which didn’t leave the team with a lot to work with while they studied your surroundings. At one point, your attacker shouted, and Spencer’s attention moved back to you.

In the midst of your struggle, you had managed to strike him between the legs, sending him stumbling away from you, shouting expletives as space was put between the two of you. The BAU took a collective breath as they listened to you breathe, spluttering as the UnSub regained his composure. “Do you see that? The ridges in the wall?” Derek said, using his index finger to point to what he was talking about.

“It looks like a storage container,” Emily replied, furrowing her brows as she comprehended what Morgan was talking about.

Wholly focused on you, Spencer watched as the UnSub got in your face, screaming horrible words at you until you spit in his face. He swung at you, causing your face to turn with a nauseating smack until your head lolled forward and you stopped moving.

Still typing, Penelope spoke up, “Got it! Sending the address to your phones now.”

during

There was a maze of storage containers at the port, and so far, you had turned up in none of them. “Shh, wait,” Emily hissed, “Do you guys hear that?” She asked, looking over each of her shoulders, ears perked up like a bloodhound.

Straining his ears, Spencer straightened up, lowering his firearm as he focused on listening to the world around him, waiting for whatever Emily was talking about.

“Just fucking do it!” Your voice reverberated off of the surface of the numerous shipping containers. Spencer found himself torn as he knew you were alive but recognized the fear and anger in your voice. The pain as you screamed nearly stopped him in his tracks, but he found himself trudging forward.

Following closely behind Morgan, they stopped for a moment, trying to determine which direction you would be found in. Your shouts rang out into the pitch black of the night, “Stop being a coward and pull the fucking trigger!”

His steps faltered, leaving JJ stumbling into his back. “Reid,” she whispered, prompting him to shake himself out of his surprised state and continue moving. You didn’t know what you were saying, he tried to convince himself.

You couldn’t see the camera the same way he had seen it so many years ago, kidnapped and drugged against his will and hoping the team would understand the clues disguised as conversation. He had been taken from an UnSub’s property, and your apartment had been broken into – the only thing taken had been you.

It wasn’t an unfamiliar fear in the BAU, worrying about an UnSub breaking into your home, but you weren’t targeted because of your work in the bureau. You had been targeted because you fit the victim pattern.

If he never had to see the word “missing” under your face again, it would be too soon.

“Please,” you begged. “Please just kill me. Just let me die. I don’t want to do it anymore,” your voice started to grow quieter, but the team could still hear you – they were getting closer.

Emily and Morgan went to one side of the doors, leaving Spencer and JJ on the other side – Rossi and Hotch were elsewhere on the property, waiting with first responders and calling the shots via comms.

A small whimper came from the container at the same time as the click of a gun cocking. “Just pull it,” you pleaded weakly. “It’ll be so easy for you. It’ll be so much easier with me dead,” you informed him despondently.

“FBI!” Morgan called out, pulling the heavy metal doors of the container open, revealing the four FBI agents with their vests on, guns raised.

Just like it had happened in an action film, Spencer watched as the UnSub moved his hand to the trigger of his weapon. Your eyes were closed, tears streaming through the dirt that was caked on your face. Without a second thought, Spencer pulled the trigger on his firearm, sending a bullet through the UnSub’s temple before he could have the chance to kill you.

Emily went over to the body, gingerly picking up the weapon and disengaging it while looking over to you. Spencer was knelt in front of you, debating whether or not he should touch you before he decided on speaking to you first, “Y/N?” His voice was no more than a whisper as he expected your eyes to open, but they didn’t.

“His pocket,” you rasped, your traumatized vocal cords straining on every word.

Spencer hummed, “What about them, love?” He kept his voice gentle, watching you as you squeezed your eyes shut.

Sniffling, you hung your head low, “Keys,” you mumbled helplessly, unable to speak more than you already were, each word only drained you of energy you didn’t have in the first place.

Understanding, JJ crouched next to the stiff body of the UnSub and fished a keyring out of his pants pocket, handing them to Spencer.

With shaky hands, the third key unlocked the handcuffs around your wrists, and your body slumped forward, practically falling into Spencer as he tenderly wrapped his arms around your torso, “I’ve got you,” he reassured you.

It wasn’t until you were sat in the back of an ambulance that anyone got a good look at you. There was a fine layer of grime coating your skin, causing it to look at least one shade darker than it normally was, but what concerned Spencer the most was the petechiae of your eyes. The burst blood vessels were a direct result of his hands around your throat.

The paramedics looked over you despite your protests. It was non-negotiable, and that instruction came from Hotch. The strangest part of it was that you were continuously trying to wave off concern, insisting you were fine, kicking your legs off the edge of the rig while the female paramedic looked at the bruising on your cheek. “It might be a fractured ZMA, she’ll need a CT to confirm,” she continued to list even more ailments, including potential internal bleeding and extensive damage to your throat. The swelling in your neck was beginning to catch up with you, affecting your ability to talk.

Spencer rode with you in the ambulance, holding your hand while you told him, “I knew you’d find me. I never gave up.”

I don’t want to do it anymore, your pleas for the UnSub to end your life rang in his head, he’d never forget hearing you say that, and you didn’t even know he heard you.

He didn’t have any good answers for anyone while you were getting a CT. By the time you returned from surgery to repair your fractured cheekbone, he shut the door to your room, sequestering the two of you into your own little world.

The bruising around your neck had already begun to darken, and by this time tomorrow, your throat would likely be a sickening reflection of what had happened to you. Your doctor had elected to leave you intubated because they were afraid of the swelling affecting your ability to breathe.

There was nothing for him to do, nothing except sit at your bedside and hold your hand, skimming the pad of his thumb across your bloodied knuckles.

after

You were skipping - well, maybe the step pattern wasn’t technically a skip.

Spencer watched as you waltzed into the bullpen with far too much pep in your step. “I didn’t know you were coming back today,” Morgan said, being the first to greet you once you passed through the glass doors.

Waving a hand in the air, you shrugged, “I have to pass a final psych eval with Hotch, but then I’m all set to be back next week.” You were grinning as you embraced your friend, but over your shoulder, Derek sent Spencer an inquiring look. Asking a silent question that Spencer himself didn’t even know the answer to.

What was going on with you? Four weeks ago, you had been struggling to stand after being beaten within an inch of your life, and ever since, you had been nothing but smiles.

Before you could settle into the hug, you pulled away, placing your hands on Derek’s shoulders, and holding him at arm’s length. Approximately the same distance you had kept Spencer at for the past month.

As you passed behind Spencer’s desk, you left a featherlight touch on the top of his head before continuing your way up to Hotch’s office, smiling as you passed the roundtable room. The same room where the team had watched your torture as it was live-streamed to them.

“Is she..?” Emily started to ask the question on everyone’s minds, but the major issue was that no one quite knew what the question was. Had you finally cracked? Were you okay? He wasn’t sure, and it was starting to eat at him.

The only thing they could do was watch as you greeted Hotch with a chirp, entering his office and firmly closing the door behind you.

epiphany

The knock on his door was the first thing to pull his attention away from his book since he got home from Quantico. Looking down at the inside of his wrist, he frowned at the time – just past midnight.

Still, he peeled himself up off of the couch before making his way to the front door, peering out of the peephole just to see you on the other side.

Slowly, Spencer set the book on his entryway table and undid the lock and deadbolt to his apartment, swinging the heavy wooden door open to reveal his girlfriend. You were donning flannel pajama pants, not unlike the ones he had on, and an old college t-shirt. There was a crumpled-up piece of paper in your hand, but he couldn’t make out any of the words on it.

“Are you alright?” Spencer asked, the question slipping easily off his tongue. He didn’t wait for the answer, ushering you inside his apartment and toward the couch. He redid the locks on the front door before joining you on the supple leather.

You furrowed your brows, staring at the piece of paper in your lap, “I failed.”

Leaning over your shoulder curiously, Spencer looked at the piece of paper, quickly recognizing it as your psychological evaluation. He read over what he could see, noting the words “deflection” and “coping mechanism.”

“You haven’t been sleeping,” he observed aloud. You must’ve been wearing makeup this morning when you came to the BAU because now he could see the clearly defined dark circles under your eyes. He hadn’t seen you much over the past month, though it wasn’t for lack of trying. Spencer had spent many days sitting outside of your apartment, waiting for you to let him in. He didn’t dare use his spare key, it felt like an invasion of your privacy.

Turning to meet his eyes, you shrugged helplessly, “I haven’t been tired. I mean – I’m… I’m fine.”

Nodding gently, “That’s a deflection. You’re telling me that you’re fine when I can clearly see that you aren’t.”

Your lips parted in apprehension while he read you like an open book. “I’m exhausted,” you admitted, tearing little pieces off of your evaluation form as you grew anxious. “I get into bed, and I can’t sleep, I can’t convince myself to close my eyes,” you elaborated, watching as Spencer reached out and took the paper from you, setting it on the coffee table.

“Have you talked to anyone?” Spencer asked, tentatively taking your hand in his.

Humming, you leaned back on the couch cushions, “Like my mandated FBI therapist? No, I don’t really talk to him much. I’ve started pretending we’re having a staring contest. I usually win, but that’s probably because he has no idea that we’re playing.”

Raising his eyebrows, Spencer inclined his head toward you, “You’re doing it again.”

You clamped your lips shut, shifting on the couch so that you could withdraw your hand from his and sit on your hands. “I don’t do this very well, huh? Talking about the bad stuff,” you murmured to Spencer, looking over at him. “I hate the bad stuff,” you informed him.

“But we have to talk about it eventually, sweetheart. You can’t keep all of that inside,” he told you, moving over on the couch, closer to where you were seated.

Shaking your head, you pulled your knees up to your chest, and Spencer recognized that you were trying to make yourself seem as small as possible. The UnSub had made you feel small – another reason that Spencer had to hate him. “I wish I was her again,” you whispered, a tinge of fear entering your voice.

“You want to be who again?”

Looking over at Spencer, you sighed, “The me that I was before. I want to feel good and happy and perfect and free,” you spoke earnestly.  

He gave you an understanding smile, pulling at your hands so that he could hold them in his own, “Nobody expects you to be perfect right now.”

You closed your eyes, “but I want to be her again.” Small tears started to stream down your cheeks while you mourned the previous version of yourself.

“I know,” Spencer reassured you. “I know you do, but if you can’t quite get to her, I’ll still be here for the you that you are now,” he said, welcoming you with open arms as you began to lean into him. “It wouldn’t have been easier,” he murmured into your hair.

Humming, you grew content in Spencer’s arms, the only place he had wanted you over the past month. “What wouldn’t have been easier?”

Ever so slightly, Spencer tightened his grip around you, “If you had died. It wouldn’t have been easier for anyone. I know it felt like that at the time-“

“You heard that?” You asked, horrified at the thought of Spencer and everyone else hearing what you had thought were your last words.

Nodding, Spencer hummed a confirmation. “I can’t stop thinking about it, and I just needed to tell you that I understand. I don’t want you to feel guilty about what you said, and I don’t want you to feel like you need to regret it. You needed a way out, and that was the one you saw,” he told you.

You were silent for an eerie amount of time, without being able to see your face, Spencer was afraid that he had misread the entire situation. “Thank you,” you whispered, straightening up and looking over at him, bleary eyes meeting his. “I’m just… thank you,” you whispered reaching out for him, embracing him as your tears sept through the fabric of his t-shirt.

The both of you stayed like that for a while, your body was tucked into his side as his fingers lazily trailed up and down your back. “Did you want to try to get some sleep?”

You lifted your head, resting your chin on his chest, “Can I stay here?”

Frowning, Spencer cocked his head to the side, “Yes, isn’t that what I just asked?” Maybe it was more of an implication, but he felt it was fairly straightforward.

“I mean, can I stay here for a while? Maybe for a couple of days?” You asked, pressing your lips together nervously.

Moving his head forward, he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, “You can stay here for as long as you want to.”

[madame-fear]

Imagine lucerys being betrothed to sunshine!reader😭💕 her parents meet with Rhaenyra when she becomes queen to arrange a marriage between lucerys and their youngest daughter, she’s just curious about everything because her parents never let her experience what her older sisters did because they sheltered her at a young girl age but she loves talking and making new friends. She’s so bubbly when greeting everyone like the Targaryens, and she’s not even scared of them because she believes that every one has kindness. And she’s so fascinated by dragons, she immediately comes to look at them and Arrax and Syrax actually like her and Rhaenyra just loves her because she’s kinda like the daughter she’s never had!!

AHHSHHSHD NONNIE thank you for feeding my mind with this !! i literally CAN’T get over this !! 😭

okay but literally imagine, I think everyone would be delighted by how bubbly & endearing you are. First thought I had beforefinishing to read the message, is that Rhaenyra would absolutely ADORE you the very second you greet her in a most respectful manner, with a wide toothy grin growing on your lips— it would take Nyra no time for her to treat you as her own daughter,, she would basically have you under her wing from that very moment.

Knowing that Luke is a little bit shy, I can picture him helplessly smiling at how lovely you simply are. Initially, he would be overwhelmed... But in a good way, of course! Much like his mother — and basically the rest of his family —, Luke would immediatly be swooped off his feet at the sight of, simply, how much of a kind young girl you are, and incredibly respectful as well to each one of his family members, and to him.

I can definitely see Lucerys offering you his arm to walk you around King’s Landing, or the Red Keep, for you to know your way around as you both gleefully chat. In a way, your personality wouod match perfectly with Luke’s— being the one to take him out of his shell, and swiftly improving his mood at the sight of your presence in the same room as he is in.

And since you have a great curiousity for dragons, and they have grown fond of you, perhaps even booping their snouts against your face playfully, Lucerys would take you to the dragonpit to greet them rather often. The way your eyes are simply impressed by the sight of these huge beasts is a loving sight to behold— and he’s most definitely the type to take you on dragonrides on whichever opportunity he has to do so; adoring the way your warm body eagerly holds him as the air delicately hits on your face whilst riding Arrax.

You are just perfect to be the Lady of the Tides, and I’m certain he would be thanking the Seven for gifting him such a wonderful little sunshine as his betrothed.

NONNIE THIS IS NOT ENOUGH,, I LITERALLY NEED TO WRITE A ONE-SHOT ABOUT THIS, WITH YOUR PERMISSION. 🙇‍♀️

[itstimetoghoul]

have u drawn phantom(/aeon) since the first time?? I absolutely fuckin love ur designs and ughhh his??? Fav.

I already ADORE ur style/art sososo much in general, it's been nice seein you on again !! I hope you're doing well 🫶🫶🫶

i even put him in the sluttiest under armor just for you! And sunny

[mads-hemmo]

It’s Nice to Have A Friend - Jschlatt

Part 1

Reader has been lonely their whole life. They have never been in a relationship. They don’t understand why no one will love them but their best friend, Schlatt has always been in love with them.

Masterlist

From a young age, you have always been a hopeless romantic. Your favorite content always revolves around romance of some sort. You even have had your wedding planned since you went to your first wedding at merely six years old. Your plans are forever cemented on a Pinterest board that you continue to add to about monthly. I mean your taste has changed since 2015, but some things still remain true.

The only problem is that you haven’t got to experience romance yourself. At the ripe old age of 25, you have never been in a relationship. You have had your first kiss, but it wasn’t magical. You only did it because you hated being the college kid who had never kissed anyone. You slightly regret it, but at least it was out of the way.

The only good thing is that at least you have a best friend who you made a marriage pact with. You and your best friend Schlatt, met in middle school. When you were both sad and single in high school, you made a pact that if neither of you were married by 40, you would get married. It was just a silly thing that you both constantly laugh about.

When you met Schlatt in middle school, the two of you immediately hit it off. You saw Schlatt sitting by himself one day and decided to sit by him. You had a few classes with him and thought he seemed like a cool dude. At first he acted like he wanted to be alone, but you learned soon after that he really didn't have many friends. The two of you learned you had a lot in common. You both loved Nintendo, especially Mario Kart as well as computer games.

The one difference is you loved all things romance whereas Schlatt only cared about gaming and baseball. The really fucked up thing about the universe is that Schlatt has had multiple relationships while you remain single. His relationships usually never lasted, but it was still strange. The universe also made you bisexual and you still somehow manage to be lonely. But at least you had your best friend, Schlatt and that stupid marriage pact.

The hardest moment for you was when Schlatt decided to move to Austin, Texas. It was the longest and farthest apart you have ever been from each other. You knew it was good for career and would help him grow his channel, but it sucked being apart for so long. Thankfully, Schlatt made the decision to come back home to New York. When he came back, it was like nothing changed. You had your best friend back and nothing could make you happier.

Most of your nights lately have been spent hanging out at Schlatt’s apartment playing Mario Kart like you did as kids. Tonight was no different. Schlatt was playing as a Villager and you were playing as Cat Peach. “I tried downloading Tinder again,” you say, randomly.

“Why?” Schlatt asked, his eyes located on the screen.

“Maybe there’s someone new. We live in New York. Who knows who might have moved here? Maybe my soulmates!”

“Toots, how many times do I have to tell you? One, your soulmate is not going to be on tinder and two, you’re better off with a true New Yorker than some new kid that wants to make it on broadway or some shit.”

You sigh. “Oh my god, but imagine they are on broadway! You know my love for musical theatre! Maybe we need to go watch a show. The lead being so into their part locks eyes with me and we realize we are truly in love like the characters on the stage.”

Schlatt lets out a small laugh while rolling his eyes. “You are ridiculous, (Y/N),” he says, looking at you.

“You’re just mad that I’m kicking your ass right now.”

“You wish, Fucker,” he says, his competitive spirit coming back.

The two of you continue playing until you both decide you're hungry, so Schlatt orders pizza from your favorite place. “You staying the night?” Schlatt asks, grabbing the Bénédictine bottle and a few solo cups.

“Might as well. It’s the weekend after all,” you say, pouring the liquor into your cup.

“The guest room is always open for you. However, the cats have made it their own, so they might sleep with you.”

“It would be nice to have someone or something laying beside me even if it is just cats. I did always say I was going to be the crazy cat person, but the tables have seemed to turn,” you joke.

“I’m a very proud cat dad. They make great content and the ladies love them,” Schlatt says, moving his eyebrows.

You laugh at him. You miss the way his smiles grow with each laugh that leaves your mouth. “Did I tell you I started a new hobby?” You ask him.

“No? How do you have the time to have another hobby? What happened to crocheting or reading or shipping random men together?”

“I’m still doing all those things and I ship people of all genders. Anyways, I started coloring.”

“Coloring? Like with crayons?” He asks, not in a malicious way, but with genuine curiosity.

“No, with alcohol markers and white gel pens to add highlights. I saw it on TikTok of course and it’s been really fun. It’s also very stress relieving.”

“Can I see some of your finished work?” He asks, his eyes not breaking contact with yours.

“Oh yeah, sure,” you say, pulling your phone out. Sometimes you find it strange how Schlatt actually cares about your hobbies and various interests. He never makes you feel bad about it. He just lightly teases you, but you know that’s just how he is.

Schlatt looks at the pictures you took of the pages you have colored. “Awe I love the little kitty. They are cute! This is really impressive, Toots. It looks like you printed these out. Maybe next time you come over, you should bring your markers and we can color together. Mine won’t be near as good as yours, but I bet it would be fun,” Schlatt says.

You hold your pinky out and Schlatt wraps his around yours. “I’m holding you to that, Big Guy.”

“You know I’d never break a pinky promise. You bring the markers and I’ll bring the Bénédictine.” The marriage pact was formed on a pinky promise and that makes your heart feel warm.

You hear the doorbell ring and realize that your pinkies are still connected. You quickly get up to go answer the door. You see a very handsome man holding the pizza boxes. “Here’s your pizza,” he says. “It’s not everyday that I deliver to someone so pretty.” He winks at you.

“You’re too nice. Hold on, let me grab your tip,” you smile, turning around. You see Schlatt and he hands you a ten dollar bill. “Thank you.”

“Sorry I didn’t realize you had a boyfriend. I couldn’t have flirted with you if I knew,” the guy apologizes.

“He’s not-“ you start.

“Don’t worry about it, dude,” Schlatt says, grabbing the pizza and handing him the money. “Have a good night.” Schlatt closes the door. He goes to the kitchen to grab plates before coming back to the living room.

“What was that?” You ask him.

“What? I just finished what you were going to say. That guy also was probably a high schooler.”

You just decide to not push it any further, knowing that Schlatt is probably right. “What movie do you want to watch?” You ask.

“As long as it’s not a musical, I don’t care what we watch. I recommend Tokyo Drift, but you’re the guest,” Schlatt says, with a piece of pizza in his mouth.

“We can watch Tokyo Drift. It’s been awhile since you picked the movie.”

Schlatt smiles at you. “Thanks Bub.” He puts the movie on.

It doesn’t take long for you to pass out. Schlatt knew it was inevitable. You usually fall asleep during a film and with liquor and pizza on your belly, it’s no surprise when he hears your soft snores. Your head makes its way on Schlatt’s shoulders. He smiles at you and he feels his heart start to race. He wishes you weren’t so hard on yourself and saw how amazing you were.

After about twenty minutes, he realized that you were pretty much out. Instead of having you sleep on the couch, he gently picks you up, bridal style and carries you to the guest bedroom. He carefully lays you down and places the blanket over you. He watches in awe as jambo cuddles beside you. When he knows you’re definitely asleep, he kisses your forehead. “I love you. Sleep tight, Toots,” he says, cleaning up the living room before going to his bed. Schlatt wishes you were laying beside him. He would hold you tight and never let you ever think you were incapable of being loved. He falls asleep, happy with the fact that you are asleep in his house and not with someone who doesn’t deserve you.

A/N: yay!! New fic!! Thank you to 🍓 anon, and everyone else who suggested this req!! Hope you enjoy the first part. Sorry I’m posting this in the middle of the night! Let me know what you know!!

[camprell-art]

We have a bit of heat today :3c metaphoric heat

full on patron

Commissions | Patreon | Redbubble

[pukefactory]

I LOVELOVELOVELOVE UR WRITING SM!!1! its so scrumptious /pos <33 could i please request shrimpo headcanons with a reader who is the complete opposite of him? they’re very sweet and kind and shrimpo is…shrimpo lmao. tysm if you can! :33

Thank you, anon! I’m glad you enjoy my writings. This is such a cute prompt, and it’s my first time writing Shrimpo, so I hope it meets your expectations!

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི HELPLESS FOOLS ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

✦ Summary: A compilation of headcannons featuring Shrimpo and an overly sweet reader.

✦ Character(s): Shrimpo (Dandy’s World)

✦ Genre: Headcanons, Fluff, SFW

✦ Warning(s): None - Completely Safe!

♡ It’s probably obvious to say that Shrimpo absolutely despises showing affection and dislikes receiving it even more (or at least that’s what he pretends), but you don’t really give him much of a choice. No matter how often he pushes you away, you always return with the same unwavering determination. Your kindness is just as relentless as his disdain, which makes you two an oddly fitting pair.

♡ Initially, he bullied you more than he did most others, driven by your unwavering kindness toward him. He resorted to his usual antics—yelling, claiming to hate you, and both verbally and physically pushing you away—classic Shrimpo behavior. Despite his efforts to repel you, he soon realized that his usual tactics were ineffective. Reluctantly, he began to tolerate your presence, much to his frustration and your satisfaction.

♡ It’s no surprise that Shrimpo gets hurt frequently—almost daily, in fact. Whether it’s from fighting with other toons or simply stumbling into various accidents, he often ends up covered in bumps, bruises, and small cuts. Fortunately, you’re always there to patch him up. He’ll grumble and yell the entire time, of course, but he reluctantly allows you to apply bandages and bandaids wherever they’re needed. Amusingly, a few days later, he’ll return and demand that you remove them immediately which is likely his way of showing he trusts you with his care.

♡ Whenever you’re at risk of being harmed by a Twisted or any other threat, Shrimpo never hesitates to rush in, scoop you up, and lift you into the air while making a swift retreat. He shouts at you the entire time as he charges toward the nearest safe spot. However, the moment you reward his efforts with a quick kiss on the cheek, his demeanor shifts entirely. His iconic angry expression remains, but now it’s accompanied by a deep scarlet blush as he stomps his feet and marches off in flustered indignation.

♡ When he opts to trade his usual outfit for his Dark Spikes attire, you shower him with affectionate compliments, which quickly tests his patience. He’ll yell at you before storming off, but when you persist, continuing your praise, he’ll metaphorically cover his ears and scrunch his face in frustration, attempting to drown you out by shouting over your words. The only remarks he seems to accept without protest are when you call him “cool” or “awesome.”

♡ Shrimpo regularly creates chaotic messes, tossing and throwing things around for no apparent reason. He usually leaves the mess for the other toons to deal with, who understandably complain the entire time. Except for you, of course. Since he endures your over-the-top kindness so often, he makes an effort not to create too much of a mess when you’re around, just to avoid watching you clean it up with such relentless cheerfulness. However, when he inevitably does make a mess in your presence, he’ll surprisingly pitch in to help. “I’M THE BEST AT CLEANING! WHY ARE YOU EVEN TRYING?!” He’ll shout.

♡ If you attempt to hold his hand, he’ll immediately pull it away and shout that he hates hand-holding and doesn’t want to be touched. However, you persist despite his louder protests and attempts to shake you off. Eventually, he gives up and begrudgingly allows you to hold his hand whenever you like, all while muttering angrily under his breath. Over time, though, he starts grabbing your hand first and declares he hates not holding hands. I suppose that could be considered a victory.

♡ Hugging him was an enormous challenge at first. Whenever you wrapped him in a tight, affectionate hug, he’d scream and thrash like a child mid-tantrum. His relentless flailing made it nearly impossible to hold on, and he always managed to wriggle free within seconds. Did that deter you? Absolutely not! In fact, you started hugging him even more often. While Shrimpo still isn’t a fan of your embraces, he seems to tolerate them when he’s particularly overwhelmed with anger. At least now he has a reliable way to calm down, even if he never says it aloud.

♡ Shrimpo is incredibly picky about his food, despising most dishes and the toons who prepare them. Often, he won’t even consider trying something if he dislikes its appearance or smell. That is, of course, with one exception—your cooking. Initially, he refused to eat anything you made, but after sneaking a bite of the pancakes you prepared when you weren’t looking, he suddenly couldn’t get enough of them. You always decorate them with a whipped cream smiley face and a syrup heart around it. Though he grumbles and eats in a strangely aggressive, messy way, he secretly loves it. He even has a soft spot for the smiley face.

♡ One thing he truly despises is the ironic heart-shaped pattern on the back of his head, but you absolutely adore it. You often tease him about it, calling it adorable while lightly poking and prodding at it as he furiously shakes his head in a futile attempt to make you stop. He’s secretly relieved that you’re always behind him when you do this; he’d be mortified if you saw his flushed, blushing face.

[kikker-oma]

OMG I LOVE THE WAY YOU DRAW THE LU BOYS

Could I pls pat pat Hyrule??

Hyrule is positively glowing with happiness from the pats🥰🥰

[codename-adler]

“Groomer Thea this” “victim-blaming Thea that” meanwhile none of you even tackled the utter fucking failure that is nurse Abby “My Foxes chose to fight back” Winfield guilting and blaming Jean for his ways to survive while he’s already kicked down to the fucking ground only days after getting out of the cult that almost killed him. She’s a grown ass adult. She’s a full-fledged medical professional. Fuck her.

[dipperscavern]

dippy I’m sorry I’m a bit stupid I did not read either of the prompt bit 😭 but if possible could I just add a prompt to my previous Cregan bit? If so, ‘voices change around each other’, bc pookie would be all ‘👹👺fuck y’all I am the lord of winterfall RAGGHHH- Oh hi darling 🤗😘’

urs truly, ur very stupid cheeky anon

you’re ALL GOOD!! thank u for your congrats & i hope u enjoy!!

9. voices changing around each other (whether it deepens or their tone in which they speak changes)

ʚ‎‏ ͜ ̩͙ ︵ ̩͙ ୨ ♡ ୧ ̩͙ ‏︵ ̩͙ ͜ ɞ

in cregans defense, he was usually ever level-headed.

being lord of winterfell and warden of the north, you had to be — patience and understanding is cregans middle name. it’s not often he loses his temper, even less often is it unjustified when it happens, and right now, his men had royally fucked up.

winter is approaching, and with it, cregans main task has been securing enough food to last winterfell & its inhabitants for as long as necessary. the maesters can foretell when winter comes and summers ended, but how long winter lasts is never known. strengthening alliances with other houses, expanding food stores, implementing more farms and crop production — cregan had pushed everything else aside to ensure the security of the people.

even if it put pressure on cregans soldiers, his hard work had made it so winterfells’ food stores were filled to the brim — and cregan was looking forward to being able to cease his constant worrying about having enough to eat.

unfortunately for him, the gods see fit to test him once more.

one of his men hadn’t closed a food store properly, and wasn’t aware until cregan himself checked on it a few days later. by then, the food inside of it had rotted.

it wasn’t the guard himselfs fault, as one of cregans council members had failed to instruct the newly appointed guards on how to close the stores properly. in cregans opinion, error truly laid with his council. you cannot expect people to perform properly if not taught or instructed, and this was so simple a lesson, cregan felt frustration at the prospect of having to teach it.

“Am I to understand, that because of your err, we’ve been lessened an entire store?”

the men in front of him glance at one another, attempting to swallow their nerves. the food store was now being emptied in the background, as cregan had not waited to “properly” assemble in the council room. they stood outside, where cregans tone had deepened, the way it does when lord stark is angered (which is, thankfully, not often)

cregan pauses, waiting for a response, and is only offered a- “Yes, I’m afraid so, my lord….”

“Winter is almost upon us, and you intend on crippling me further. How are you meant to advise me if I must coddle you as a babe?” his tone is harsh, unforgiving. he thinks to hear ideas of solution, about what could be done, but cregan notices something else.

instead of looking at him, every man is looking past him instead. ‘have they no respect for their liege lord?’, a part of him whispers; but curiosity takes over. he turns around, and is met with you.

he blinks in surprise. “Wife.” he says, not expecting your presence. his tone is light now, airy — alike to the cregan that usually graces winterfell. the contrast in his voice from a moment ago to now would make some grin if they weren’t afraid of inciting more of their lords anger.

“I missed my lord husband at supper,” you say, as if nothing was even amiss. “You worried me, Cregan.”

cregans tongue darts out to wet his lip, momentarily forgetting about the men behind him. “That was not my intention, I-“ he cuts himself off, turning back for a moment to glance at the food store being emptied. he sighs, choosing his next words carefully.

“I shall join you momentarily.” he says, turning to face you once more.

you hum, reaching to interlock pinkies (you’re close enough to be discreet). you lean to look past cregans shoulders (a hard task), and you’re met with the faces of cregans council. instead of their usual smug-ness, their faces are a mix of awkwardness, discontent, and embarrassment. the sight of it only makes you smirk, and when you return to cregans gaze, you find a hint of bashfulness swimming in his pupils.

“Behave yourself, my love.”

cregan nods, and you shoot him one last knowing smile before you move to return to the castle.

your presence has calmed him, allowing him to think without the cloud of emotions hanging over his head. he turns back around, and shoots a look at his council before focusing all his attention on the nearby food store.

“What can be done?” he says, tone still edgy, but nowhere near what it was before. his council share an equal relief, grateful to their lady stark for her rescue.

ʚ‎‏ ͜ ̩͙ ︵ ̩͙ ୨ ♡ ୧ ̩͙ ‏︵ ̩͙ ͜ ɞ

[amamiofacciouncasinoo]

Finalmente ☀️❤️😍

[onmyyan]

alright but i reread the angst fic, ain't no sunshine and I'm like. okay but Albert is so obviously AWARE of all the shit that pushed yn away, like maybe he was the only one he talked to or told her plans about her last birthday in the manor to.

I can't help but picture one of the batfam subtly clocking this and demanding answers as to why y/n left, what happened, bruce feeling blindsided because you were the "easy" kid and now suddenly you're gone??? and alfred. just fucken. pulls a little black book he's been keeping tabs with the entire fucking time and the fam has to read through very merticulous, very carefully noted list of literally every time they pushed y/n away or neglected you cause he KNEW this was coming and knew most of them wouldn't have the insight to see what went wrong. lmao i want Alfred to be the one good adult in Y/N's life.

This is so good because Alfred really is your only solace in the house, and of course he would keep tabs on every little instance of neglect in case the family ever tried to pull some "we don't know why she would ever leave??? ;( " shit, very detailed, very succinct, ruthless when he confronts them

[cozywolvie]

hii, i was wondering if u could do a fic of logan nd wade with a sunshine reader ^_^ like an overly happy and energetic person ig. IF THAT MAKES SENSE LOL. i don’t see too many fanfics with sunshine readers… or at least when i look. not sure if u have gotten many requests yet but hopefully this isn’t a bother to u!! u can add smut or smth if u want. u seem super cool and hopefully u have a fun time writing this if u do :3 have a great day or night!!

a/n: yayy! my first request! thank you sm for requesting and you are not a bother at all. I really hope this is somewhat of what you wanted. this is straight fluff and cuteness, so I hope you enjoy!

-

You have always been a morning person. You loved watching the sky turn different shades of yellow and orange as the sun rose, and you loved having a cup of coffee while watching it. However, your boyfriends couldn’t disagree more with you.

Here you are, laid out on the back porch, wearing one of Logan’s plaid flannels, baking in the rising sunlight as it goes over the horizon. A warm cup of coffee is settled in between your fingers, and you grip it tightly, loving the warmth it gave you on this crisp morning.

While you laid out here, Wade and Logan lay inside sound asleep in your shared king size bed. They always love to tease you about your chirpiness and happiness, especially in the morning. They couldn’t get around the fact that they both were somehow able to fall in love with a person so opposite of them, especially Logan.

It was around 10 am when you started to hear the two men stir. You were in the kitchen, humming, flipping pancakes on the stove. Logan emerged first from the bedroom, wearing a pair of sweats that hung low on his waist, a flannel hung along his shoulders, underneath was bare, and you tired not to gawk at his figure. He smirks when you see’s you. “Smells good.” He compliments, walking around to your side and placing a long kiss on your temple. You smile, practically leaning into his tender embrace.

“Good morning” You beam back at him. You loved mornings like this, calm, peaceful, anything to get away from the stress of Wade and Logan's crime fighting careers. You offer him coffee, which he leaves black, and sits down at the kitchen table. You continue to hum in content, even dancing to nothing in the kitchen, enjoying the sizzling of the pancake batter on the stove. There was just pure joy and happiness radiating off of you. Logan smiles at the sight.

“Good morning bubbles!” The sound of your other boyfriend radiates the room. Logan groans in discomfort at the loud sound, plugging his ears closed. You giggle at Wade’s nickname. Awhile ago when you three had gotten together, Wade had referred to the three of you were like the powerpuff girls. You, bubbles, because you were always bubbly. Buttercup, Logan, which is pretty self explanatory. And Wade, Blossom, because he claims that he was the captain of your little team.

“Good morning Wade.” You give him peck on the lips, and hand him his coffee, with a shit ton of creamer and four sugars, he loves things sweet. He takes a sip and nods approvingly. “Ah, sweet! Just like my girl.” He gives your behind a cheeky slap and you giggle, swatting him away playfully.

You all sit at the table, munching down on pancakes. Wade drowns his in syrup and Logan cringes at the sight. “You’re gonna get diabetes if you keep doing that.” Logan scowls.

“I already got cancer, I’ll take my chances.” Wade says back, shoving pancakes in his mouth. You grin, rolling your eyes at the pair. Logan eyes your cup of coffee. “Which number cup is that?” He teases.

“My forth.” You grin, taking a sip. Logan chuckles, shaking his head in amusement, “No wonder you’re always so energetic.”

"Nah, it's just the way our girl is." Wade says, sending a wink your way. You grin and try to hide your blush. "I have no reason to be anything else. I've got a good life, a roof over my head, and two incredibly amazing sexy men who are in love with me." You giggle with a wink, watching as both the men smile, making your heart warm.

"About that, thank you." Logan states. You crinkle your brows in confusion, not knowing what he is thanking you for. He see's your confusion, stumbling over his words, becoming flustered. "Well, uh, ya'know-"

"What peanut is trying to say is, that we are grateful for you. You're the light in our lives that we both needed." Wade states, grabbing your hand from across the table. You can't even contain the blush on your cheeks now. If anything, you should be thanking them.

"I'm the grateful one." You say. The boys smile, showering you in love and kisses. The rest of the day is spent with the three of you relaxing in your free time, cuddled up by the two men you love most, all three of your laughters echoing around the small cozy apartment.

[hoe4hotchner]

Hii ! Can I request a hotch x bau!reader with the grumpy x sunshine trope where hotch is kind of protective of the reader and she (or you can make it gn I don’t mind) is oblivious and I don’t rly have an idea for the plot maybe on a case or smt 😭 tysm if you write it and if you don’t it’s ok too <33

I honestly had to google the trope, I've been writing fanfics for nearly 10 years and at this point I still only remember the classic tropes.

Anyway, I don't know if I used it correctly. Hotch is a teeny tiny bit dramatic

"Alright, team we have a lot of work to do. The sooner we get on top of this, the better." Hotch said looking at his watch, hoping he could be back in Quantico by tomorrow morning for the yearly budget meeting. Who else would defend the expenses of the BAU?   "Don’t worry, Hotch. We’ve got this. I’m sure we’ll crack this case in no time!" You flashed him a smile, despite the situation.   "Let’s focus on the details for now." Hotch's eyes softened gradually as he nodded.   Throughout the day, Hotch’s attention seemed to drift toward you more often than usual. Whether it was a glance when you ventured too close to the edge of a crime scene or a slight increase in his tension when you had to interact with potential witnesses or suspects, it was clear he was more on edge than ever.   "Y/N, be careful over there," Hotch’s voice rumbled as you peered over the edge of the cliff the last victim had been thrown over, a hint of concern veiled beneath his gruff expression.   "I’m always careful, sir. No worries!" You glanced back with a bright smile.   Hotch’s jaw tightened, though he tried to conceal it with a curt nod. As the case progressed, so did the danger. In the evening, while following a promising lead, you and Reid were near a run-down building that had become a potential hotspot where the unsub potentially performed his twisted rituals and routines. Hotch was nearby, coordinating the team's efforts, but his eyes never strayed far from your location.   A loud noise echoed through the building, the dust stirring into the air. You instinctively reached for your weapon and moved toward the sound, but Hotch’s voice cut through the chaos.   "Y/N, stay back!" he commanded, his tone firmer than usual. You froze for a moment, a bit taken aback by the intensity in his voice, but quickly resumed your position behind Spencer.

"Got it, sir."   Despite your reassurance, Hotch’s anxiety was palpable. When you finally emerged from behind the building, safe but slightly shaken, Hotch was waiting for you, his concern evident even as he tried to keep his face emotionless.   "Are you alright?" He asked, his voice softer now, though still edged with an underlying urgency.   "I’m fine. Just a little adrenaline rush." You smiled up at him, brushing off the dust from your clothes. Hotch’s gaze lingered on you, a mix of relief and frustration in his eyes.

"You need to be more careful. I can’t always be there to protect you guys."   "But you are always there, Hotch. I’ve never felt unsafe with the team. We’re all in this together." You tilted your head, puzzled at what he meant.   "It’s just…" Hotch’s expression softened slightly, and he took a deep breath. Before he could finish, the team regrouped, and the focus shifted back to solving the case. Yet, the tension between you and Hotch remained.

It wasn’t until the case was closed and the unsub caught that Hotch finally found a moment alone with you.   "You did well today."   "Thanks, Hotch. So did you. I couldn’t have done it without your support." You beamed at the praise, trying to pay it right back to him.   "It’s more than just support. I—" He hesitated. Hotch’s gaze lingered on you, his usual stoicism cracking just a little. "I worry about you. Sometimes more than I should, I think." Hotch’s expression softened further, his protective and cold nature finally giving way to a vulnerable side. "Just promise me you’ll be more careful. I can’t afford to lose you."   "I promise." You reached out, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. Hotch’s eyes met yours, a rare smile touching his lips.

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