#Express them in this piece... well an ATTEMPT was made at least.

[chiropteracupola]

And you would not believe me if I tried / To tell you all the things I've seen / And all the places that I've been / So pour the hall another cup of wine...

[a cei for @mortiscausa’s ’march to camelot,’ for the prompt ‘kinship’]

[ovrgrwnivy]

CLASSIFIED ; spencer reid

synopsis ; a sleepy morning turns into spencer falling over himself to get to work on time, forgetting his badge behind him.

includes ; spencer reid x fem!reader, kissing, getting interrupted by the bau, secret relationship

sunlight flittered through your blinds, heat radiated off your boyfriend who laid beside you, his arm draped over you as he slept peacefully. you card your fingers through his hair, unintentionally stirring him from his sleep.

“oh, i’m sorry baby” you apologise, voice soft in an attempt to keep him from waking up any further “go back to sleep.”

it was a rare day off for spencer, by your second date he’d told you he was in the bau, by your fifth you had gotten used to work tearing him away. but despite the annoyance, you had gotten used to it. you understood his job was important, you understood that evil wouldn’t take a break just so you could keep your boyfriend all to yourself.

when you asked him how personal time worked, he admitted to you that his team didn’t know he had a girlfriend. it stung a little, but when he explained that his job would be putting you at risk it softened the blow.

you’d heard the horror stories, how his boss’s wife was killed just so the unsub could get to him, about another girl who had been shot simply for being an agent.

it sucked, but you understood why, at least for now, spencer didn’t want to broadcast you all over the office.

“don’t wanna,” spencer mumbled, pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder as he blinked his eyes open “don’t wanna waste my one day off.”

you couldn’t help the small smile that appeared when he said that, days off may be hard to come by but spencer made sure you were the sole focus for every second of them.

he propped himself up on his elbow, his other hand tightening its grip on your waist to pull you closer “c’mere, pretty”

his sleepy voice makes the words sound even better as you lazily wrap your arms around his neck, your fingers toying with the hair at the back of his head.

he presses a lazy kiss to your lips, which quickly spirals into something deeper. his hands grip at your waist, desperate, like he was afraid that if he loosened his grip you’d disappear.

trails of nips and kisses are dragged along your neck as he moves to hover over you, your breathing is shallow, fingers tightening in his hair as his hand slides over the surface of your stomach, fingers tracing along the hem of your underwear.

“fuck,” spencer mumbles, long fingers slipping under the fabric agonisingly slowly “you look so pretty, baby, so pretty under me.”

you let your eyes fall closed, his mouth still attached to your neck as his fingers ghosted across your skin.

until his phone rings, eliciting a frustrated groan from you both. you watch as he reluctantly reaches for it to see who’s calling. you don’t need to ask, his irate expression tells you it’s work.

“yeah?” his tone is blunt, uncharacteristically so but you can’t exactly blame him “what? no, i’m not supposed to be — right. fine.”

he doesn’t need to explain what’s going on, you already know by the way he jumps out of bed and hurriedly starts getting ready to head into work.

it’s immature, you know, but you can’t help but cross your arms in annoyance as you watch him bolt back and forth around the room.

“sorry, baby.” spencer sighs, easily reading the mixture of frustration and disappointment in your expression “i’ll make it up to you, promise.”

you hum in agreement as he presses a kiss to your forehead, promising to call you when he could before disappearing out of the room, and in turn, your apartment. you stay in bed a little longer, feeling sorry for yourself and worrying about your boyfriend at the same time.

the floor is a mess, both yours and spencer’s clothes strewn around as well as decorative pillows and comforters. as you begin picking clothes up from the floor, your eyes fall on a small, rectangular piece of leather hidden under a pair of socks.

spencer’s badge.

you gnaw on your bottom lip, conflicted on what to do. by now spencer would already be at the office, calling him to come back would cut important time from his schedule. but without it he’d be in trouble.

you needed to bring it to him without airing his personal business to the entire building, which is how you ended up signing in as a visitor who was here to meet with agent derek morgan.

the only name you heard from spencer that you could remember confidently.

a serious looking woman showed you the way to the bau office, your fingers nervously drumming on the leather cover of the badge as you headed up the elevator.

all hope was lost once you stepped out, two glass doors showcasing the expanse of the office filled with people shoulder deep in whatever they were working on.

you look around the hallway like a deer in headlights, unsure if you could just walk in or if you could just give the badge to someone else to pass on to spencer.

“you okay!?” a cheerful blonde approaches you, seemingly from nowhere. arms stacked with files and carrying a coffee cup at the same time.

“uh,” you’d feel guilty adding to her workload “do you need a hand?”

mentally you face palm, cursing yourself for your lack of social skills in the simplest of situations.

“please!” the woman gasps, the ceramic mug wobbling in her hand “hotch is going to kill me if i spill coffee all over his case. i already told him ‘mister hotch sir, it would be easier to go digital’ but nooo.”

you laugh softly, taking the mug from her unstable hand and tugging open the door for her.

surely you could enter with someone who was actually allowed in the office.

“follow me!”

she’s speeding ahead, a woman on a mission, up the steps and into what seems like a conference room. you trail behind apprehensively, not wanting to get either of you into trouble by just swanning in.

“if there’s any dismembered bodies or general badness on the screen i swear to god!” she warns, rounding a corner and disappearing into the room.

you hang back awkwardly, partly because you have no business in there but mostly just in case there was any dismembered people on display.

“you’re all good!” her head pops around the corner and she motions for you to come in, so you do.

there’s barely time to register your surroundings, a circular table with a group of people sitting around it. you spot spencer instantly, you don’t even attempt to guess who everyone else is.

his head is buried in a case file, so your presence is unknown to him. which isn’t a surprise considering you’re not meant to be in the building let alone the office.

“garcia, we talked about this.”

a stern voice comes from a tall, serious looking man. you didn’t need to be a genius to work out he was most definitely spencers boss.

“right.” the woman, garcia, presses her mouth into a thin line as she gently takes the mug from your hands “do you know where you’re meant to be, lovely?”

“oh, uh, here actually.”

as you retrieve the badge from your back pocket, spencers head snaps up at the sound of your voice. his eyes widen slightly and a small smile makes its way onto his face.

“hey, what are you doing here?”

his question catches you off guard, even more so when he gets to his feet and moves around the table towards you.

wordlessly, you hand over his id, the perfectly rehearsed excuse of finding it at a cafe stuck in your throat now that spencer had made it known you weren’t a stranger.

“how did i — thank you.” his smile widens slightly, his hand resting on your waist briefly as he pressed a thankful kiss to your temple “i’ll call you on the plane, okay?”

you knew he wasn’t trying to brush you off, but he was evidently busy and you had no actual reason to still be here.

you nod, face warming up when he gives you another quick kiss before you go, sending a tiny smile and a brief wave towards the rest of the team.

as you gently shut the door behind you, you aren’t quick enough to miss the questions thrown in spencers direction. even laughing softly at garcias exclamation of “spencer has a girlfriend!”

[gf2bellamy]

explanation — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x reader ( no use of y/n ) summary: an officer won't stop talking to you content warnings: annoyed spencer, light flirting between reader and spencer a/n: had to write something for glasses reid also he looks so good in this gif ohymgod also this is short sorry

You forced a polite smile, though your patience was wearing thin as the police officer in front of you continued his overly enthusiastic explanation.

His words blended together, a relentless drone that made it increasingly difficult to concentrate.

Still, you nodded along, trying not to seem rude despite the growing urge to check your watch or glance elsewhere. 

What you didn’t notice was Spencer standing just a few feet away. He had been watching the exchange, his hazel eyes flickering between the officer and you.

From his position near the evidence board, he clutched a file in one hand, the papers inside creased slightly from the pressure of his grip.

His other hand, balled into a tight fist, remained at his side. 

It wasn’t like him to eavesdrop—at least not intentionally—but something about the way the officer leaned just a little too close to you made it impossible for Spencer to look away.

His jaw tightened as he struggled to focus on the task at hand, attempting to study the crime scene photos tacked to the board in front of him. 

But his mind wasn’t on the case.

It was on you.

On the way you shifted uncomfortably, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you nodded at the officer, and the way your lips curved into that soft, practiced smile that Spencer had seen you use before when you were trying to be polite but had no real interest in the conversation. 

He knew you well enough to read the subtle signs.  

He didn’t want to interrupt—he wasn’t sure if he had the right to.

Finally, Spencer cleared his throat, the sound sharp and deliberate as he took a step closer. 

“I’ve already explained it to her,” he said flatly.

The monotone delivery caught you off guard, and you turned around quickly to face him, your eyes meeting his behind the familiar frames of his black glasses. 

Spencer wasn’t typically one to interrupt, especially not in such a dry way.

The officer, clearly thrown off by Spencer’s blunt interjection, shifted his weight uncomfortably and gave a half-hearted nod. “Oh, uh… right. Well, if you’ve got it covered, then…” His voice trailed off as he stepped back, offering an awkward smile before retreating. 

You raised an eyebrow at Spencer as the officer walked away, leaving the two of you alone near the evidence board. “What was that about?” you asked, tilting your head slightly. 

Spencer shrugged, the file still clutched tightly in his hand. “Nothing,” he replied, his gaze darting to the board as if suddenly engrossed in the timeline pinned there. 

But you weren’t convinced. Spencer Reid was many things, but subtle wasn’t one of them—not when it came to how he felt.

You noticed the way his jaw tightened, the faint crease in his brow, and the tension in his posture. 

“Spencer,” you pressed, stepping closer.

He hesitated, his fingers flexing around the edges of the file before letting out a small sigh. Finally, he glanced at you, his expression softening just slightly. “I just didn’t think it was necessary for him to keep… explaining things to you,” he said, his words measured. "I already told you everything."

You frowned, trying to piece together the odd behavior. “I mean, he was being—” 

“He was wasting your time,” Spencer interrupted, his tone firmer now. His eyes flicked to yours, the frustration evident behind his glasses. “You already know what you’re doing. You don’t need someone like him hovering over you like that.” 

The realization hit you like a slow-moving train, the pieces falling into place.

Spencer wasn’t just irritated—he was jealous. 

A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you watched him try to keep his expression neutral, though the faint pink tinge creeping up his neck betrayed him.

“Spence,” you said softly, a teasing lilt in your voice, “were you jealous?” 

His eyes widened briefly, and he immediately shook his head. “Jealous? No, I… I wasn’t—” He faltered, his ears turning red as he fumbled for a convincing denial. 

“Sure you weren’t,” you teased, crossing your arms as you leaned slightly toward him. “It’s okay, though. It’s kind of… sweet.” 

Spencer opened his mouth to respond, then closed it again, realizing there was no way to argue without making it worse.

Instead, he sighed and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. 

Your smile softened, and you reached out to gently touch his arm. “I’m glad you’re looking out for me. But you don’t have to worry—I’m not interested in anyone hovering over me. Unless, of course, it’s you.” 

That earned you a shy smile from Spencer, his shoulders relaxing slightly.

“Okay,” he said quietly, his voice tinged with relief. 

And just like that, the two of you returned to the case—but not before you caught the subtle glimmer of satisfaction in Spencer’s eyes. 

[vladtoly]

Thanos the Match Maker

Nam-gyu x Female!Reader

Requested: Yes

Proofread: No

A/N: Hope this is what you had in mind! I had to re-watch some of his scenes to get a feel for him again, so I hope I did it justice. Thanks for requesting!

You stared at the boxed meal in front of you, eyeing it warily before going back to your bunk. Surely, they wouldn’t poison all of you right? It seemed that their whole play was being ‘fair’ in the games, so poisoning had to be off the table. Even with that thought though, you inspected each piece of food before taking a bite.

While slowly eating, you let your eyes wander the dorms. Everyone was obviously rattled, most not even touching their food. A large group of them stood in front of Player 456 to interrogate him about the last games. Just for his own sake, you wished he had stayed quiet. You understood he was attempting to save everyone, but he was preaching to the wrong audience. None of these people wanted to leave without money, and it was very clear that no sum of it would be enough.

You looked back down at your food. Sighing, you stopped inspecting and just ate. If you died, you died, at least you wouldn’t be hungry.

Footsteps began to approach your bunk, catching your attention. You looked up just in time to see Thanos and his sidekicks in tow, Player 124 opting for leaning on your bunk railing. Your eyes met for a split second, you looking away when he gave a slight smirk.

“How can I help you boys?” You said, attention going back to your meal.

Thanos leaned forward, his elbows on the mattress as he rested his head in his hands to get a better look at you. “Couldn’t help but notice you alone. It’s not very safe in here, you may need a guy to protect you in the next game.”

Letting out a snort, you continued to pick at your food. “Not in the market for a bodyguard, thanks. I don’t need your help.”

“Who said I was talking about me, Senorita?”

Now that caught your attention. This guy didn’t like to be out of the spotlight, so this should be good.

You looked up, meeting his gaze. “And who exactly are you talking about?”

He slid back so he was fully standing, smacking a firm hand on Player 124’s shoulder. He seemed to know just as little about this interaction as you did, if his shell-shocked expression were to mean anything. “My boy here! Nam-gyu can protect you no problem.”

Nam-gyu quickly collected himself, going back to his usual expression as he leaned back onto the bunk railing. He leaned in close, his breath almost touching your face as he spoke. “We don’t know what the next game’s going to be. But what I can tell you now is that I’d make sure you’re safe, baby.”

You raised a slight brow at the pet name but felt your cheeks warm at it at the same time. However, you couldn’t let this guy win that easily. It’s not like he’s been a delight up until this point.

You met his gaze and cocked your head to the side. “Oh really? And how do you plan to keep me safe if we don’t know the game, hm?”

“Well,” he opted to sit on the edge of the bunk, resting his hand on the mattress. His face had moved closer. “I may not know what the game is, but if you stay close, I’ll personally make sure nothing happens to you. We may even have a little fun, who knows?”

Your gaze studied the rest of his face, pores and all. Then it moved to the rest of him, eyeing up if he really could protect you. You realized he was hitting on you, the goal was to get closer to you, which you admit was working.  But you wouldn’t mind some extra help next game if it was needed.

When you were content, you made eye contact again. “Fine. Meet me at my bunk tomorrow morning, before the next round.”

He chuckled, moving his hand off the mattress and onto your thigh. “Or you could come eat with us now, get to know each other better.”

You couldn’t deny how your stomach flipped at the touch. Yet you cleared your throat and slowly moved his hand. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, baby. Maybe I’ll come by in a bit.”

He seemed content with that as his face split into a grin and he finally stood up. When he turned though, he realized Thanos and the other player had already wandered off, probably during your conversation. He scoffed but made a point to nod to you before going in search of them.

You laughed lightly, before looking at your lap, where your half-eaten food still sat open.

Fuck it. Might as well have fun if you might die anyways.

----------

Squid Game headcannon/blurb requests are OPEN!

[alicentofhightower]

the cost of a dragon

pairing: addam velaryon x wife!reader

synopsis: addam is covered in cuts and scrapes from falling and running in the forest, and now you must take care of him.

includes: fluff, episode 6 heavy spoilers, probably historically inaccurate w some parts but we’re just gonna Let That Slide, not proofread again oops

wc: 1.3k

a/n: i love him so bad. rn my top 3 tb characters are rhaenyra rhaena and addam. he’s so sweet!! i really hope we get to see a lot more of him in the next few episodes

-

Addam is bewildered when he returns to your home, panting, eyes wide and mouth agape. You’ve never seen him like this, but you guess that it’s the dragon laying beside your house that’s done it.

“What’s happened?” You exclaim when you see the way he’s stumbled in, bleeding from a cut on his cheek.

“…The, the dragon,” He mumbles, locked hair spilling over his shoulders. Addam walks over to where you stand by the kitchen table, hands gently grasping your forearms, as yours do his, thumbs running over your skin to ground himself. He smells strange, like something otherworldly. Could it have been because of the beast outside your door?

“It came to me, followed me through the woods by the shore. I think I’ve claimed him. Yes, that’s what I’ve done. I must go.” Addam attempts to retract himself from your grip, but to no avail.

The pots and pans inside rattle when the silver creature lay its head on the yard outside, no doubt resting from its flight. “Please, my love,” Addam insists. “I need to go and see the queen myself. She is in need of more dragons herself, is she not? If I serve her, perhaps she will allow you and I to live at Dragonstone with her. This is our chance.”

You shake your head, apron ruffling from the beach’s wind blowing through the window. Addam has always been ambitious, has always wanted the best for you and himself. He’s fiercely loyal to you, a quality that made you want to marry him in the first place.

“Addam.” Your hands fly up to cup his cheeks, stopping him from continuing on with his tangent. “You’re covered in gashes and dirt and sand. At least let me lend you a hand.”

He softens at that, jaw seeming to unclench. Addam’s brown eyes have always been expressive, and now they seem to look at you as if you’re the sweetest person he’s ever known. “…I suppose you’re right,” He mutters, “but we must make haste.”

Finally, you let go of each other. You use one of your hands to intertwine your fingers with his, and the other to grip your skirts as you lead him to your room. It’s small and modest, mostly swallowed up by the bed you share. “Sit,” You say, almost commandingly, quickly fetching a spare piece of cloth by the tub in the main room and a bowl of water.

Addam’s eyes almost glint at the way you flounce about before him. He spreads his legs so you are able to stand between them, chin tilting up so he can make eye contact with you while you fix him up.

“Let me see.”

He holds out his right arm, palm up, covered in tiny scratches and sand from his poor attempt to escape from his new dragon. Seasmoke, he remembers. Addam squeezes your right hand lightly while the other cleans him up.

You barely manage to suppress a heavy scoff at the mess in front of you, but you dab gently at it with the towel anyway, soaked with water. “What did you do?” You ask, brows knitting together. “Did you try to run from it?”

“Yes,” He admits, face scrunching together at the fresh memory. You’ve told him to be careful of the sky-beasts constantly looming over the two of you, and he knows he’ll be scolded for trying to escape the damn thing.

You shake your head, mostly to yourself, and Addam’s shoulders deflate. “Well, what would you have done?” He asks, exasperated. “My apologies for wanting to come home to you tonight.”

You pinch his arm. “I only worry for you,” You say, voice soft. Addam and his brother, Alyn, are the only family you’ve left; you’d never known your father, and your sweet mother had died of a fever shortly after your seventeenth nameday. She hadn’t been able to last, to see you wed the man you love so dearly.

“…What will you say, when you see Queen Rhaenyra? She may think you are coming as a foe, to battle rather than service.”

Addam hisses as you brush against a particularly deep cut, eyes squeezing shut. “Sorry,” You say, and he only tips your interlaced fingers up to his lips and kisses the back of your hand.

Your husband pauses after he lets your hands back down, considering the weight of whatever his words to the Black Queen will mean. He almost thinks of it as a duty, to you and his brother. To further your ever so small family.

“I suppose the words will come to me when it happens.” He swallows harshly, eyes averted from yours, darting around like he’s telling himself to fucking think.

You’ve moved onto his other arm, now, and suddenly the odor of him has become unbearable. It’s nothing like anything you’ve smelled before.

Grimacing, you drop the washcloth and cover your nose with your hand, taking a step back. “What?” questions Addam, clearly confused. “What’s the matter?”

“Gods, you fucking stink. What is that?”

Addam laughs. He laughs, tension seeping out of him as he does. “It must be the dragon,” He claims, reaching out to grab your waist and pull you back towards him. “Don’t mind it, please.”

You’re unable to fight the smile you feel blooming, because despite the fact that your husband reeks of his new dragon sleeping outside your home, and your feet are sore from walking to the markets, only to find nothing, and your nerves are set ablaze thinking of his meeting with Rhaenyra, Addam is here. He’s here with you, holding you, safe in the comfort of your humble little home.

The feeling is fleeting, only settling in you for a moment, but you tip your head down to press a kiss to his mouth. “You must be vigilant,” You plead when you pull away, ignoring the way Addam’s lips seem to chase after yours. “And you must return to me. I do not know what I would do if I were to lose you.”

“I will be. I swear it.”

You brush away the dried blood on his cheek with the cloth, frowning. “We should leave, shouldn’t we? Fly to Essos, where we will be safe without the threat of war. That dragon is large enough to saddle three, isn’t it? We can go-“

A thumb soothingly presses against your lips, silencing you. “…If I can put the thing to use, it will strengthen us. Strengthen whatever I have with my father.”

Addam had always been desperate to get the same attention from Lord Corlys that Alyn had always seemed to receive after he’d saved the man. You’d never spoken to the Lord Velaryon yourself before, but it was hard to miss the way he’d stare at you when you visited your husband in the shipyard, almost melancholically.

“I do not care for jewels and gowns and for you to be gilded in glory, Addam,” You state, pushing his wrist away from your face. “I care for you. Should we not go now? I could find your brother.”

“No.” He shakes his head, standing from the bed, now towering over you. His fingers, callused from his seemingly never-ending work on Lord Corlys’s ship, caress your waist almost reverently.

Almost every inch of your skin heats up when Addam leans down to kiss your chest, right where your heart is. The skin is covered by the sea-blue gown you wear, a white apron tied about your waist, and you shudder at the feel of his lips on such an intimate spot.

He kisses up from your bosom to your mouth again, firm and sweet and longing. There’s no guarantee you’ll ever see him again, but some strange part of you feels that all will be well. It’s a naive thought, perhaps, but one you welcome nonetheless.

“I will come back to you,” He promises, voice rasping. “I love you.”

[screamingcrows]

Once Diluc settles with you, he finds that a new passion - bordering on obsession - has taken root in place of his desire for justice.

He needs to express just how grateful he is to have you by his side. You'd seen the damage left by all the times 'home' had been torn apart and taken with it a piece of his being. But instead of turning away, there'd been nothing but warmth in your eyes as you wove together what remained with strings of love.

Everyone around him had noticed the difference; 'You seem excited today, Master Diluc, something good happen?' 'Finally settling down huh? Who'd have thought you'd manage before me' 'It's good to see you smile again.'

But how could a mortal man hope to thank the sun for bringing dawn and disperse the dark night?

His fingers hadn't touched the violin since well before leaving Mondstadt. Despite several late night attempts, his fingers felt far too rough, grip on the bow too harsh. The notes didn't sound right.

Flowers didn't feel like enough (and something about having to watch them wither away didn't sit right)

Marjorie had suggested a piece of jewellery, but loathe as he was to admit it, the moment he laid eyes on but a fraction of the selection, his mind had locked up. What if you didn't like what he chose?

'Your mother didn't leave anything?' Marjorie had asked with nothing but good intentions, he knew, but Diluc was terrified that you'd turn tail and run at the weight of such a gift.

The picnic he'd invited you on had been perfect, gentle weather, solitude (he'd made sure to give his workers a paid day off), he'd been cooking all morning. Just the memory of your blissful expression as you'd looked up at him, head on his chest, had heat rushing to his cheeks.

Still, by the time the sun was setting, even with circumstances as perfect as that, Diluc had found himself tongue-tied. Words that had fought to be liberated from his heart for so long always vanished in your presence. Stunned into silence. Too busy revelling the sound of your breaths, the steady rise and fall of your chest, the weight of you against his body.

Could a man such as himself ever be worthy of it all?

When Adelinde had first suggested he write you a letter, pour his heart out and leave it upon your windowsill alongside a lamp grass, he'd nearly fallen to his knees, lamenting his own inability to consider something so simple yet effective.

It was a perfect idea.

It had been a perfect idea.

Surrounded by countless crumpled sheets of parchment, blots of ink staining both his fingers and the desk, words no longer a tangible concept in his mind, it seemed as impossible a task as the rest.

Letters danced before his vision, stringing together words that didn't hold half the meaning you did to him. It was downright humiliating to watch the growing pile of unsatisfactory drafts, to the point that meeting Adelinde and admitting defeat almost felt alluring.

A beast to be put out of its misery.

But he persevered, knowing it'd be impossible to find rest before at least managing to finish one letter.

A brush of warmth along the shell of his ear had him shivering, too keenly aware that the world was sideways before his eyes. Sitting up, Diluc noted with dismay that light already streamed through the windows, the candles that had kept him company burned down long ago.

When had he fallen asleep, and more importantly-

"Adelinde told me you hadn't left your study all night," you sounded almost amused, a realisation that tempered his initial shock at your presence, hands frantically moving to sweep together the scattered papers.

"Ah- I had business to attend to," another warm breath ghosted along his ear, "plenty of planning to get settled before harvesting begins."

His eyes widened in nothing short of horror as he turned towards you, blood running colder than it had in Snezhnaya when his gaze fell on your lovely hands.

Before more than a startled noise could leave his lips, yours had parted in a mischievous grin, "And your business often involves 'hands so gentle I could never bear to recoil from their touch, even if they should wish to drive a knife through my heart', or is this a special case?"

A string of stuttered protests were all that left his lips in the wake of your question, seeing how the amusement slowly bled from your features only worsening his guilt. Not only were you subjected to reading that but here he was, unable to explain himself.

The feeling of your fingers tangling in his hair and the press of fabric against his cheek calmed his frantic heart a bit, letting out a sigh in resignation as Diluc allowed himself to hide his face in your shirt.

"I didn't mean to pry, I was simply worried because you hadn't come outside to meet me like we'd agreed," your tone was soothing, but the realisation that he'd forgotten the plans you'd made stung, "Adelinde came out and explained what was going on. I think it's sweet, if a little silly, to be fretting like this Diluc. You don't have to prove anything to me, if you'd like, I can make a little list of all the ways I know you love me?"

Though it was said with a little chuckle, Diluc knew you were being honest, allowing himself a calming breath before trailing his fingers along your waist. He truly didn't deserve you, unable to even say aloud how deep his affection and gratitude ran, but he would make sure to treasure you in any way he could for as long as you'd have him.

Perhaps a list wasn't the worst idea.

[aventurineswife]

Reader is pretty bad at crocheting. Despite their lack of skill, they were determined to ALWAYS crochet something for their beloved partner. Making cursed looking plushies. They always thought that their partner would throw them away or pay them no mind.. heck, even laugh at them. But to their shock, their partner keeps all those cursed and bad looking plushies at their favorite place. (Dan heng, Veritas, Kaveh, Sunday, Ruan mei.)

Not Perfect, but Still Yours

Tags: Kaveh x Reader, Dan Heng x Reader, Ratio x Reader, Sunday x Reader, Ruan Mei x Reader, Fluff, Soft moments, Imperfection, Comfort, Emotional Growth, Appreciation, Supportive Relationships, Gift giving.

Warnings: Mild embarrassment, Self-doubt, Lighthearted humor, Emotional vulnerability.

The soft light of the Astral Express flickered through the narrow window of the lounge, casting shadows on the scattered objects around the room. In the corner, a small, misshapen plushie sat, its lopsided eyes staring out toward the horizon. It was one of the countless failed attempts at crocheting you had made for Dan Heng. The yarn was too tight in some places and too loose in others, the colors clashed violently, and the stuffing was lumpy, giving the plushie a truly cursed appearance.

You couldn’t help but chuckle nervously as you held it, eyes scanning the room in search of a place to stash it out of sight. Maybe Dan Heng would never notice, or maybe he would laugh at it. It was far from the perfect gift you had envisioned when you started, but at least you had put your heart into it.

As you turned to place it on the shelf, you froze. There, perched next to the window where Dan Heng often sat, was not just one, but a collection of the most absurdly shaped, lumpy crocheted plushies you’d made. Their mismatched eyes, crooked smiles, and mismatched colors all stood proudly in their place, as though they were some kind of treasured collection.

Dan Heng sat across from them, his usually calm demeanor unchanged. He looked up at you, his deep, reflective eyes meeting yours with something resembling amusement, though his lips remained firmly set.

"You've been crocheting again," he said in his quiet, steady voice.

You stood frozen, your face burning with embarrassment. "I... I didn’t think you'd actually keep them..."

His gaze softened, though he said nothing else. His actions spoke louder than words ever could. He had placed them all so carefully in the space he cherished most—the quiet place where he could reflect on everything. You had expected ridicule, but instead, your clumsy efforts had found a place of honor in his world.

Dan Heng's soft sigh filled the room, but it wasn't one of exasperation. Instead, it felt more like a quiet acknowledgment of something that transcended words—something more meaningful than just a plushie.

Kaveh stared at the plushie you had given him, his sharp eyes wide with surprise. It was... a disaster. A mess of yarn in every possible shade of blue, with ears that were more like floppy lumps than anything remotely animal-like. The eyes were uneven, the stitchwork was clearly off, and the overall shape? Well, it was a stretch to even call it a plushie.

Still, he couldn’t bring himself to laugh at it. He had seen you struggle for hours on end, your hands fumbling with the crochet hooks, muttering to yourself in frustration, and it made him smile. Not at the plushie, but at the sheer determination behind it.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked, holding the plushie up carefully, examining it as though it were a fine piece of art, despite the chaos it embodied. "It’s... unique."

You looked down, embarrassed. "I know it looks awful, but I just wanted to make you something. I thought you’d throw it away, but... I wanted you to have it, even if it's terrible."

Kaveh chuckled softly, a sound that always made you feel warmer, even when the world seemed so cold. “Terrible?” He paused, looking around the room for a place to set it. “No, I think it’s just... different. And I like different.” He placed the plushie carefully on a shelf next to some of his architectural sketches, where he could see it whenever he needed a break from his work. “It’s special,” he added with a wink, “because it’s from you.”

You blinked in surprise, and before you could say anything, he turned to you with that familiar mischievous smile. "You’re not getting off that easy, though. The next one better have some structure to it!"

Your heart swelled at his words. It wasn’t about the perfection of the plushie, or even the art itself. It was about the thought, the care, and the effort you had put into it. And Kaveh, despite his sometimes chaotic nature, always saw the beauty in that. Even the cursed plushies you thought would be forgotten.

Kaveh placed a hand on your shoulder. “Keep them coming. I’ll cherish each one.”

You sat cross-legged on the floor, yarn tangled in your hands, struggling with your latest attempt at crocheting. It was a mess. The stitches were uneven, and the form barely resembled anything close to what you had intended—a plush owl. It looked more like a lumpy pile of yarn with mismatched eyes. A sigh escaped your lips as you tied off the last stitch, half-expecting Ratio to find it ridiculous.

Ratio was brilliant, confident, and quick to call out ignorance in any form. You had never imagined he would appreciate something as simple and imperfect as your crocheted attempts. Still, you found yourself crafting these weird, lopsided plushies for him. Every time, you feared he might mock you, dismiss the effort, or worse, throw them out. Yet, you persisted, as these small gestures were your way of showing him that you cared.

As you placed the little owl on the shelf, you couldn't help but feel a pang of doubt. Would this be the one that pushed him too far? Would he finally tell you it was enough?

The next day, you walked into the room to find Ratio sitting in his usual chair, reviewing some ancient texts. As always, his gaze seemed focused, detached from everything around him—until his eyes flicked toward the owl. A small, amused smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he gently picked it up, inspecting it with curiosity.

"It's... oddly endearing," he remarked, his tone as blunt as ever. "This owl lacks the symmetry I would expect from a creation of logic, but it... has its charm."

You blinked, unsure if he was mocking you or genuinely complimenting it. But then he placed it next to his prized collection of books, right on the edge of the table where he could always see it.

"I'll keep it here," Veritas added, his eyes meeting yours, his expression softening in a rare moment of vulnerability. "You made it for me. It’s a reminder that even imperfection has its place."

You couldn’t help the warmth that spread through your chest. For someone who valued perfection and knowledge, this was more than just acceptance—it was a sign that, to him, your imperfections meant more than you could have imagined.

You stared down at the tiny, lopsided plush dove, your fingers trembling slightly. The stitching was uneven, and the wings were too big. Still, you had tried—really tried—to make it resemble the symbol of Charmony, something that would show Sunday you cared in the simplest way you could think of.

But doubt clouded your mind as you looked at it. Sunday, with his celestial grace and refined demeanor, surely wouldn’t appreciate such a... well, “cursed” gift. The way he carried himself, so composed, so perfect, made you think he would find your attempt childish, perhaps even laugh at it. He was a being of such beauty and wisdom; what would he want with a lumpy, hastily made toy?

You took a deep breath and placed the plush dove in the corner of the room where he often meditated, hoping it would at least bring a smile, even if it never left that spot.

Days passed before Sunday came by, his eyes scanning the room, and then, to your surprise, he made a soft sound of recognition. He knelt down beside the dove, lifting it up gently, his expression unreadable as he ran his fingers over its wings.

“It reminds me of something,” Sunday said, his voice softer than usual, the hint of a smile playing at the corner of his lips. “Of the Charmony dove, yes, but also of simpler things. The kind of things we forget to appreciate sometimes. Thank you.”

You stared at him, dumbfounded. He was holding the plush with such care, as if it were something sacred, placing it right next to his meditation cushion. Every time you saw it there, you felt a little less doubt in your heart. The dove, imperfect as it was, had a place in his life—just as you did.

The yarn slipped between your fingers, tangled and frayed, as you struggled to crochet another creation for Ruan Mei. You had tried your best, but the result was far from the elegant designs she would create. It wasn’t even close to the delicate perfection that she embodied in her work. Instead, your plush was a strange amalgamation of mismatched colors and poorly sewn stitches. It looked more like a confused blob than a creature.

You sighed and set the plush down, a small knot of worry forming in your stomach. Ruan Mei was brilliant, precise, and focused. She could easily craft life from data or manipulate biology to create perfect forms—what would she think of your chaotic mess of yarn?

Despite your doubts, you carefully placed the plush on her desk, right next to the microscope where she often worked. You felt foolish for thinking she’d notice or appreciate it.

The next time you saw her, she was sitting at the desk, inspecting the intricate DNA strands she had created. Her eyes scanned the room, and when they landed on the plush, you held your breath.

At first, she merely stared at it, her expression unreadable. Then, with an almost imperceptible smile, she reached for it and held it up to her face, examining it carefully. “This is...” she began, and your heart sank. “...unexpected. But I suppose life has its imperfections, doesn’t it?”

You blinked, unsure if you had heard her correctly. She placed the plush next to her notes, her delicate fingers smoothing over the yarn. “It’s... a reminder that even in something this simple, there’s beauty. You made this for me, didn’t you?”

A warm, familiar sensation bloomed in your chest as she looked up from the desk, her eyes softening. “Thank you. I’ll keep it here. It has... its own kind of elegance.”

Her words, though quiet and understated, were everything to you. Even in her scientific, precise world, your imperfect creation had a place—a place she had carved out for it, just as she had carved out a place for you in her life.

[tadc-harlequin-au]

Touch-Starved (canon)

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otherwise known as; the part where The Puppetmaster finds out he has THE FEELINGS(™, patent pending) for the Combat Harlequin. lmfao

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"Almost..." His hand trembled at the last piece required. He carefully slotted the optics in place, and twisted the eye multiple times to stick it in place. Within moments, he steps back, and Bubble flared up alive again, checking out his new, updated vision. “Wow! I can see more colors now!” The Blimp spun in place.

“Those new eyes should allow you to broadcast anything you see to me, if I so wished.” He explains, pulling out a small, thin black screen from one of the the desk’s many compartment. He switches it on, and Bubble’s eyes suddenly have a tiny red dot blinking in the middle of it.

So far, so good. The device was working as intended and he could see the top of his dentures from Bubble’s perspective, making Caine grin proudly.

“You may proceed to do your chores once more, the upgrades are done.” He sends the blimp to his merry way, and Bubble only nods before turning away to make his way out of the office. He leans back with a content sigh and closed eyes, satisfied with the work done for the day.

At that very moment, Pomni also opens the door.

She looked… disheveled, to say the least.

“Oh hey Pomni!” The butler blimp greeted with his usual reply. The Harlequin only sent him a look of acknowledgement, knowing that it’s useless to try to spark up a conversation, as Bubble was already making his way out.

Caine blinked once, and then he blinked twice just to make sure he’s seeing things right.

Was she always this… dazzling? Literally? He could see sparkles forming everywhere.

She flipped her hair in a messy attempt to get rid of the strands currently stuck to the skin of her nape. Her trademark golden ponytail missing, most likely a B.O.S.S.’s doing. She made her way to Caine’s desk and he swears he could feel his heart beat faster and faster with each step she took. The Harlequin’s trademark squinted brows with half-lidded eyes meeting his own wide stare, a gaze that would typically make any person with a still-functioning sanity cower in fear.

She took a seat on his desk with her legs crossed and her back turned against him and leaning on her right arm, as she usually did.

“Here’s the die you asked for. Took me a bit, but still got the job done.” She checked her left arm for damages after she placed the multi-colored puppet heart in front of him, while she flashed her teeth with a victorious, smug smile. His words are caught in his throat and her entirety shines too brightly for him. He couldn’t understand it.

Why… did she seem like a flame, and he felt like an unsuspecting moth, drawn to her light?

He shook his head clear and forced his stare away from her direction, clearing his throat while clutching the die. “I-I see, thank you, Pomni. You-you’ve done… a… wonderful…” Her hand grasped his own and his heart leapt at his own throat. Her synthetic, calloused fingers felt so rough, yet so gentle against his own gloved ones that he considered taking them off.

“...j-job.” His breath hitched as he struggled to finish the end of his sentence, unable to tear his attention away from her eyes. He found himself gawking at her intense, golden eye matched with blue and red pinwheel ones.

“Aren't you forgetting something, Puppetmaster?” Her expression questioning, yet with a slight and subtle undertone of mischief glinted at her optics. 

He couldn’t speak. He struggled to form coherent words. It felt like he was being strangled by an unknown force clutching at his neck, yet there was clearly no malice behind it. 

“Wh… What am I forgetting…?” He asked in such a feeble tone that made her chuckle in such a low rumbling tone, snaring his full attention.

“Well, I think that I deserve a reward for my services. Don’t you think?” She stands up. Warm hands suddenly felt so cold and empty, and already he missed the warmth present just about a second ago. The Harlequin made her way towards him as he spun his chair to meet her halfway. Hand at her hips as she towered over his sitting form. He’s all of a sudden clutching at the armrest so intensely.

“Y-yes, of course! H-how could I forget!” He nervously chuckles, he would pull on his collar right about now. “What is it you wish to be rewarded with?”

He offers her his best smile, and she giggles as she shakes her head. Without any warning, she took a seat on his lap, and he went frozen. As if making one single move would shatter the very fabric of the universe. She leaned her head to his shoulder, fiddling with the collar of his shirt then her fingers trailed onto the underside of his chin to make him look at her. He shivered from the contact.

“You.”

He trembled as his face warmed up to uncontrollable degrees, and produced visible heat waves. Not even his self-installed coolants were helping him tone down the sudden rise in his body temperature in the slightest. He couldn’t control his shakes, making the Harlequin smirk, knowing that she had the Puppetmaster all wrapped around her finger.

He didn’t know what came over him, because now his own hands were making their way onto her thighs to pull her closer to him entirely, the other shakingly placing itself onto her shoulders and he could feel the way she sighs contentedly against his touch. He exhales a shaky breath himself, attempting to steel himself.

“M-my dear, a-are you positive that… that is what you’d like?”

It was better to be safe than sorry. She sits up straight, and for the first time, he regrets ever asking that question in the first place.

“Actually…” Her voice trails off playfully, while she stands up. “... Maybe I’d like something more.”

It only took her a finger underneath his chin to pull him as she leads him to a nearby wall. As if his own body had a mind of it’s own, he pins her in place with both arms adjacent to her head. His face leans in closer and closer to her with eyes closed, and she’s leaning up close to him, fully ready to accept his advances.

Pomni’s soft lips met his teeth, and Caine could smell the faint traces of grass and sweat rolling down from her synthetic skin, evident of her hardships from the recent battle. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and his loops around her waist to pull her closer, while the other cups at her face intensely. He savored her mouth as their breathing became heavy and fast-paced, only breaking apart for a mere second, gasping for air before delving back in to their desires.

Desire…

Quite the accurate depiction of how Caine truly felt for the Harlequin at this moment. He couldn’t quite decipher when this had started, though.

As if her intentions were to pry him away from his overbearing and unnecessary thoughts, Pomni pushed him away to pin him to the wall this time, continuing the liplock. He grunts from the impact, but gladly returns her enthusiasm with fervor as he loops his arm around her back, pulling her flush to him once more. Her hands made their way to the lower sides of his jaw to caress so gently, and he finds himself melting at every contact their touches made.

Without breaking the teeth-on-lip-lock, he steered their bodies onto the direction of his desk, leaving the Harlequin laying on it as he loomed over her, ravaging her mouth once more like the touch-starved man he was. He adjusted her thighs just enough to make room for him without making the position uncomfortable for the both of them, their heated make out session felt like it could go on forever as he gripped her waist tightly.

It felt like if he let her go, she would disappear all of a sudden. And he didn’t want that.

He made sure to not lean too much of his body weight onto her by propping himself up with his elbows, both hands find themselves cupping her face to keep her in place as her hands trailed all the way up from the lower arms to his shoulders to do the same to him. He broke the kiss to gasp for air, a string of saliva being the clear proof of their heated action, but quickly delved back into the riveting sensations of their activity. 

Her touch against him were like magic; every contact sent shivers and jolts down his spine as she switched from holding his shoulders to holding his chest just above where a collarbone would traditionally be, pushing him away to let herself up. For a nanosecond he thought that maybe he went a little too far with his advances, until she disproved his theory by shoving him to one of the nearby long couches, only a pillow to cushion and soften his landing onto the furniture.

Quickly making up for lost time and contact, she quickly crawls to straddle his waist, clutching the back of his head to make him look at her, and her only. His hand found itself gripping at the back of her waist tightly once more, the other clutching her own head just to make sure she’s still there with him. Both were panting heavily, the room temperature very much heated as a result of their affairs.

His eyes looked at her longingly as he breathed heavily. “Pomni… I… I don’t think I want this to end.”

She flashed him a consoling smile.

The alarm rings, deafening the surroundings as he jolts awake, falling from his chair comically with a loud, slightly high-pitched scream emitting from his throat. He groans from the headache he had received from the impact to the ground, clutching at the top sides of his jaw, as he leans his head onto the desk for support.

His false heart was beating faster than when one would run; His face was flushed and he frustratingly ignores the heat from the rest of his body with a grumble.

He shifts his eyes to look around. Nothing’s changed. Everything was the same since Bubble left to do his daily chores.

He shakes his head and slams his face down onto the elegant desk, groaning depressingly and half-sobbing.

What the fuck? Was… WAS IT ALL JUST A DAMN DREAM!?

Oh, he could scream and cry into a pillow right about now. But the panicked angry screaming of a certain someone being bothered by the recent addition; the Ragdoll Mannequin that was “Ragatha”, suddenly grabs his attention. Now, he’s looking outside into the manor grounds from his office’s windows with a tired and questioning gaze.

“GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!”

“But Mistress! You still haven’t tried out my trademark cookie recipe!! It’s GUARANTEED to be your instant favorite!”

“STOP CALLING ME MISTRESS! FOR THE LAST TIME, I DON’T CARE, GET THE FUCK AWAY-”

Caine sighed disappointingly to himself, dragging his hand across his eyes.

God fucking dammit. He actually feels something for her.

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I would say I'm sorry, but we all know I'm not. :)

[dwonfilm]

Teaching tech. | Soldier Boy x Reader

Summary: Butcher tasked you with the job of teaching a freshly thawed Ben, aka Soldier Boy, how to use technology. First off you started with teaching him about the iPhone.

Warnings: bit of Solider Boy being Soldier Boy but otherwise, mostly fluff.

“Dammit!” [Y/N] heard Ben’s voice from the other room and she sighed. Next was a smash and that made her rush back into the bedroom. Immediately Ben’s eyes lifted up to see her coming in and he scoffed. “I didn’t break the cocksucking thing this time.” He stated plainly. “Good,” she answered. “I don’t have the money to buy you a fourth phone.” She moved to sit on the bed next to where he was currently sitting. “This shit ain’t a phone, it’s a thin ass rock with futuristic shit inside. Phones have a base and a receiver or they were these massive bricks with buttons—not whatever the fuck a touch screen is-“ Ben ranted, but [Y/N] just laughed. “Yeah, they were those things once but this is 2022. Life’s changed a lot and eventually you’re gonna need to learn all these things.” She spoke, picking up the phone that was on the bed between them, swiping up to unlock it. Bits of her [Y/H/C] hair covered her face while her attention focused on the screen. Ben just watched, a grumpy expression on his facial features. “How’d you get stuck doing this anyway? Where’s the Cum Guzzler or the Cheerio?” She laughed, Ben’s nicknames for people were always pretty humorous. “Hughie is scared of you and Butcher can barely explain anything in the entire history of life’s existence.” Ben gently laughed at her answer. Fingers moved across the screen, making selections that she didn’t think were necessary to explain to him at the moment. “So, the bean pole’s afraid of me huh?” He asked, not really expecting an answer. However it did bring up another question. “Why aren’t you scared of me?” His tone seemed indifferent but there was a hint of something more inside his eyes. Something she was oblivious to since her own were focused on the screen of the phone in her hands. Though, she slowly gazed up from it for a moment. “Honestly,” she began with a pause directly after. It was as if she was attempting to think about how to answer him. “I was at first, a little bit, but I just try to sympathize.” He scoffed almost immediately. “You sympathize with a piece of shit like me? No wonder it’s so easy to get you women in the sack. Jesus Chris-“ She turned her head and shot a glare at him. “You can sympathize with people without wanting to fuck them, for starters.” She rolled her eyes, moving her gaze back to the phone in her hands. “No one’s perfect, not that it’s excusing.. well everything. Despite all that, no one here has any real room to judge too harshly.” Ben quirked a brow at that. “That so? Don’t tell me a pretty lil’ thing like you has baggage!” Part of him was sort of mocking her, though he was getting curious. “Moving on, I made the email for you and set up an account for you to use the phone.” She began to explain, looking over to him but finding a confused expression on his face. “E-what?” He asked plainly, green eyes gazing into her own. “Right, I forgot you have no grasp on the basics.” She turned towards him now.

“Email is pretty easy, it’s like sending letters to people—only digitally and in a much faster time period. It used to take y’know, days, weeks for those to be delivered. Now it just takes seconds—also instead of a home address you just need their email address. Does that make sense at least somewhat?” Her voice was gentle, not sarcastic or cruel. [Y/E/C] eyes meeting his green ones as he was silent for a moment. “Yeah, I guess.. I mean it seems straightforward enough—though doing that stupid shit is gonna be harder than understanding what the fuck it is.” He answered. “Well, yeah, but we’ll get there.” [Y/N] offered a half smile at him. “No one’s asking you to be Steve Jobs after a day,” she tried to encourage him but his face was blank yet again. “Who the fuck is that?” He asked, to which she sighed gently. “…never mind, it’s not important. What I meant is that none of us are expecting you to know how to use it all within the blink of an eye.” She replied before moving her gaze back to the phone. He peered over at the phone while knitting his brows together. None of it made any sense to him. Now the screen was black again, before the stupid symbol popped up. “..the fuck is it doing now?” He asked, moving his glance to her face. “It’s updating the software,” she spoke before shifting it to an analogy he’d understand. “..which is like maintenance on a car kind of—it makes sure everything’s working and also is.. replacing the parts in a sense. Fixing things that weren’t working and replacing them with things that will work and hopefully work better.” It took a second, but the analogy did help. “Makes sense I guess.” He spoke, arms crossed over his chest. His eyes watched for a moment before he became bored, so, he did what he usually did and turned his attention to whoever was occupying the space with him. “So tell me, how’d a gorgeous gal like you get tangled up with a fucker like Butcher anyhow?” She laughed softly but she didn’t look up at him this time. Mostly to hide the fact that she was blushing just a little. [Y/N] knew that she shouldn’t be feeling this way, by all accounts this man was still Soldier Boy. He wasn’t a good person, but the more she spent time with him the more she realized he was letting her see the man behind the persona and maybe.. maybe there was more than what he’s done in the past. After all she was preaching sympathy just moments prior. “Flattery will not get you out of the tech lesson, but since it’s updating you’ve got a little wiggle room.” She took a gentle breath before beginning to tell a very condensed version of events. “Becca, Butcher’s wife, she was my mom’s best friend. When my mom got killed in a car wreck, Becca sort of.. became my maternal figure.” Ben nodded, feeling some of the strings attached to his heart pulling. “I’m sorry about that, doll.” It was the least he could say. “Where the hell was your dad?” He asked, not knowing subtly if it were to bite him on the ass. She sighed gently. “Couldn’t tell you, never met him.” Ben could sympathize with that in a way, his own father being a piece of shit and all. “Sorry ‘bout that too.” He spoke, keeping his gaze on her own. She simply nodded before the phone’s screen lit up in the bright colors again, signifying that the software update had been completed. Picking the phone up, [Y/N] swiped up to begin the process of actually setting things up. “Okay, back to this-“ she spoke but was immediately cut off by Ben’s loud groaning. “Fuck sakes, is this really necessary?” He grumbled, which caused the woman next to him to roll her eyes. “You already know the answer to that.” Again he grumbled, acting like a mix between a grumpy old man and a stubborn child. “If this was forty years ago and some fine piece of ass was trying to tell me I had to do somethin’..” She turned and her [Y/E/C] eyes met his face with a pointed glare. There was a momentary pause as Ben contemplated whether or not to continue.

However, he was mischievous by nature and so he opted to continue on with his train of thought. “..I’d have grabbed her by her pretty little chin and talked her into getting on her knees so I could show her a better way to use that mouth.” [Y/N] again rolled her eyes. “Anyway,” she brushed it off and moved on immediately though Ben was wearing a little smirk. “Picturing it, aren’t ya’?” He asked, clearly attempting to make the woman flustered. She turned her gaze back towards him with a blank expression upon her face. “Picturing me, punching you in the face? Absolutely I am.” She answered, which had Ben’s smirk fall completely. “You new age women, chicks in my day would’ve been creaming their panties at the chance to get with Soldier Boy.” Ben grumbled, irritation showing on his face. It was amusing to [Y/N] that he thought he’d get her to crumble so easily. Pushing herself up into a better position she’d lean the phone towards the Supe. “Alright, so I made two emails—one has the Soldier Boy name on it, just in case there’s.. I don’t know people that have business offers or something. Granted, that’s if we all live and you don’t get thrown into jail or whatever they do to other Supes and the other is for, well, more personal shit. That’s the one I was telling you about when I mentioned it initially, the one that’s tied into everything on the phone. I downloaded some stuff but now you need to try it.” She handed the phone over to Ben, praying he wasn’t gonna break this one. It was clear that he was trying to hold it gently, which would’ve made her giggle out loud—however the man was in an overly sensitive state and she wasn’t going to push that. “Alright, so tap the icon that says ‘App Store’ and wait for it to open.” [Y/N]’s voice was gentle and Ben nodded, putting his finger over the square with that name underneath it. However he left it there and so the apps began to all shake. “What the fuck is happening?!” He exclaimed, to which she gently moved her hand and pressed the button labeled ‘done’. Now the apps went back to being still and she sighed. Gently she grabbed his index finger and lightly pulled it towards the screen again, Ben wanted to grumble but he was too distracted by how her fingers felt against his own. Where his skin was rough, battle tested and calloused.. hers was soft, maybe a scar here and there but nothing compared to his and the contrast? It was more enjoyable than he’d ever admit out loud. [Y/N] pulled his finger down toward the screen and gently tapped it against the screen to open the app. “You just gotta tap, see.” She spoke, letting go of his finger. “Huh.” He replied, but it wasn’t very loud. “Now typing on these things is probably gonna annoy you, it annoys us all and we’re used to the technology. Just.. try to not freak out and break it yeah? Shit is easy for you to snap, given y’know..” After she said that, she couldn’t help but to chuckle. When she did Ben felt himself smirking just a little. There was a split second where their eyes met and lingered, before she spoke up again. “Alright, so if you just click on this one it’ll take you to the place where you can download them. I think most things that are necessary for now are already there but I wanted you to know how to do it, so.. you like sports right?” She asked, tone kept gentle. “Uh, yeah, obviously little less on the up and up these days.” He replied, to which she nodded. “Alright well type in ‘MLB’ right there in that search bar, click it first though.” [Y/N] explained and for a moment Ben just stared at her, as if she had three heads. Eventually though he moved his gaze to the phone and tapped the screen over the search bar, which brought up the keyboard. “So.. these fucking things are called apps?” He asked, typing the three letters slowly into the bar and then she pointed to the blue button labeled ‘search’, which he tapped before looking up at her again.

“Yeah, they have one for just about everything these days.” She replied, pointing to the button that said ‘get’. Ben tapped it and the symbol to signify it was downloading appeared. Once it had finished, she smiled slightly before reaching underneath his arm for a second. “So, to close an app, you just swipe up like this.” Gently she placed her thumb on the screen and swiped upward to bring the phone back to the Home Screen. “Now, that closes it for the moment. Swiping up in a short motion brings up all the open ones like this-“ she explained, demonstrating. “Once they’re up like this you can swipe up again and fully close them.” She closed all of the currently open apps to demonstrate to him how to do it. “You really think I’m gonna remember all this shit?” He asked, almost glaring when he looked in her direction. It was a lot of information to take in, so she took a gentle breath and locked the phone. “Okay, fair, let’s take a break then.” [Y/N] placed Ben’s phone on the bed between them and slowly pulled out her own. He couldn’t help it, curiosity took hold and he glanced over. “You can put pictures on that thing?” He asked, noticing her Lock Screen photo of a drawing of the moon. Quirking a brow for a moment, she then figured out what he meant. “Oh, yeah! You can. Did you wanna do that on your phone?” Her voice was sweet as their eyes met yet again, bringing back the slight tension that continued to linger between them. “Fuck it, shit looks better than whatever the fuck it comes with.” He replied after a moment or so of silence. “Do you have anything specific you want?” She reached up with her free hand and tucked some of her [Y/H/C] hair behind her ear. Ben’s expression was pensive for a moment or so as he tried to think of anything he’d like to have as a background on the phone. “I dunno, just find something badass—none o’ that girly shit.” She shook her head before thinking herself, trying to figure out something she could use. “I’m gonna go take a leak.” He spoke up, pushing his frame up and off of the bed before grumbling about something and making his way over to the bathroom door. Once he’d closed it, she thought for another second before smiling to herself. Lifting the phone up at a decent angle, she quickly opened the camera app and primped herself slightly—snapping a couple of pictures of herself right after. Flicking through the few she found the one she liked the most and made it his Lock Screen wallpaper. Thumbs darted across the screen and within another two minutes or so, spent entirely on Google, she’d found a nice photo of Ben’s shield. It worked well for a Home Screen.

It wasn’t long after that [Y/N] heard the toilet flush and the sink turn on, seconds passing before the door was pulled open and Ben re-entered the bedroom. Lifting her gaze up to meet him, his green eyes held something she couldn’t quite pinpoint. She gently laid his phone onto the mattress and kept her attention on him while he sat back down onto the bed. “Are we doing more of this shit? ‘Cause I think my fuckin’ brain might implode.” His voice was deep, housing a distinct rasp to it. [Y/N] couldn’t help but to chuckle at the old man antics he was displaying before answering the question. “No, I think we’ll save some lessons for another day. After all, there’s much more than just the phone you’re gonna need to learn.” After she’d spoken, he groaned for what felt like the millionth time. “It’s amazing how you bounce between acting like a senior citizen and acting like a teenage boy.” Her voice held a humorous tone as she again chuckled, it was Ben’s turn to now offer her a pointed glare but there was definitely a layer of amusement behind it. Just as he was about to offer up a retort, the bedroom door was pushed open and Butcher popped his head in. “Oi [Y/N], need ya’ to come help Frenchie with a little project.” His accent was thick and his eyes held a wild expression that was pretty standard for the man. [Y/N] sighed and slowly pushed herself up from the mattress, but turned towards Ben with a gentle smile. “If you have any questions just.. come find me.” He nodded, because his brain wasn’t sure how to react to the little smile on her lips. Sure there was a lot of unholy and downright vulgar thoughts swimming around in his noggin about her, there had been since he laid eyes on her—however there was something more that lingered and that was causing a short circuit in his mind. She turned back to the Brit and groaned. “This better not be anything messy because the last time-“ she was cut off by Butcher’s laugh. “It ain’t, I swear.” [Y/N] rolled her eyes as the two left the room, closing the door behind them. After a couple of minutes Ben remembered [Y/N] lecturing him about locking the goddamned phone, but she had left it unlocked. Pushing the button he heard the clicking noise, but tapped onto the screen to make sure he hadn’t accidentally turned it off somehow—and that’s when he saw it. There underneath the time and the other bullshit, was a picture of her and her smiling face. Since he was by himself, he didn’t have his guard up and his lips curled upward into a smile. “Pretty lil’ lady.” He spoke out loud, his heart feeling something he’d not felt in quite some time.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Hi guys! I am soooooo sorry about how long this took. Between writer’s block and my fear of it sucking, I was just struggling for a while. This is my first attempt at writing for Ben so if it’s bad, I’m sorry! He’s a more complex character to nail in writing and hopefully I’ll get better at it over time. Anyway, hope you enjoyed!

• —– ٠ tag list: @roseblue373 @mrsjenniferwinchester @stillhere197 @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @aylacavebear @ladysparkles78 @globetrotter28 @jc-winchester ✤ ٠ —– • ·

[vad-hander]

I Love You More

pairing: Jaebeom x reader

others: Jinyoung, GOT7 members

genre: fluff

warnings: idol GOT7!au, married couple, pure softness, crying

Words: 1,1k

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short soft one-shot inspired by GOT7's concerts this weekend and them being so emotional and crying and saying a lot of things that tore my heart apart. Jaebeom will always hold a very special place in my heart and I was excited to write this! I haven't written for got7 in years, so let me know, if you're interested in more

alsooo, I've never posted anything this short, so let me know if you enjoy stuff like this and I should be doing more of it!

_____

You stood in the corner of the waiting room, your eyes trained on the only man that actually mattered in your life and as the teardrops streamed down his pretty face your heart squeezed in an attempt to pump blood into your head and steady out its beats. Your heart ached, but you held back from crying  in this moment with him - if he’d see your tears you knew it’d be an undying contest of emotional breakdown and you didn’t want him to go through that. You loved him too much. He only ever deserved love, happiness and much easier life than he was living now. 

Jackson patted Jaebeom’s head and the staffs that filled the room tried to continue with their duties, but also be mindful of 7 crying and sobbing men in the centre of that room. Your gaze shifted to sobbing Mark and the way teared up Youngjae and Bam tried to calm him down. At least this view wasn’t tearing your heart into pieces. As a figure approached you, though, you had to readjust your eyes and focus on the man in front of you. The very next moment Jinyoung’s very warm hand grabbed yours and pulled you behind him. He felt your resistance and turned around, reading your face expression perfectly.

"I think he really needs you to calm him down." Jinyoung pulled onto your arm once again and you followed. "Hey, Seunah" Jinyoung called out in an attempt to whisper, but making it more of a low growl. Jackson, raising his head and seeing Jinyoung pulling on to you took a step back. Giving you space to come closer and giving you two space for privacy. Jaebeom raised his head a little, as he felt the loss of contact and took a few blinks to focus his teary eyes on you. Both Jackson and Jinyoung respectfully took a few more steps back and as you approached Jaebeom a little more, you couldn’t hold back a pout. Jaebeom straightened his back properly and it seemed the tears streamed down his face at a much lower pace. You pursed your lips and took a little step closer, not forgetting precaution and turning around to read the room - everyone seemed busy with themselves and their duties. But in all honesty - you couldn’t just stand and watch him any longer, even if the people watched you two attentively - your heart ached the moment you saw that first tear fall down his face back on stage. 

“You did so well-.“ You still whispered, everyone acted busy, but peoples’ ears were always perked up. Jaebeom blinked more tears down his face. Shit, you only made it worse for him. “Everything went so perfectly. You worked so hard. I’m so proud. These should be happy tears, everything worked out amazing. Right?“ you tried to give Jaebeom a smile, your words only made the tears fall down harder, while Park Jinyoung expected you to do the opposite. “Ah-, love, don’t cry.“ You finally sighed and reached a hand to his face, cupping his cheek and making a lame attempt at catching the teardrops - it did seem impossible. The waterfall that streamed down his face was impossible to stop with a finger. Jaebeom leaned in into your touch and closed his eyes. You tried to caress the softness of his cheek, while not making it too inappropriate for a working environment. “Everyone’s so proud and everyone are so thankful for the things you do. You’ve put so much hard work into this, it’s okay to cry. I can’t even hold back my tears for you and ah-.“ Jaebeom suddenly draped his arms over your shoulders and lost his face in the crook of your neck. You patted his nape in a very weak attempt to calm him down. He seemed crashed, drained and exhausted. You really wished you could lift him up just like that and transfer to bed and let him get as much sleep as he needed - doesn’t matter if its 12 hours or a week. You watched him work so hard all these weeks to make the concerts possible, you watched him all those years make all those things possible while also being a sweet and loving husband to you. “I just hope it’s tears of relief. As long as they’re not tears of pain - it doesn’t matter. We could cry all night long, right?“ You tried to give him a little kiss, forgetting all the work space boundaries in your head, landing your lips on his jaw. You patted his nape a few more times, moving your arms lower - you gave his waist a squeeze and rubbed your face against his shoulder - the sobbing man in your arms seemed to calm down at least a little. 

“I love you.“ you breathed out, somehow in unison with Jaebeom and as shocked as you were at the silly little coincidence, Jaebeom moved back a little and looked at you properly, with no tears falling out of his eyes,  beautiful irises focusing on you. 

“That’s silly of us.“ You giggled, moving your fingers to dry out the tears on Jaebeom’s cheeks. 

“But I, definitely love you more.“ He even made a weak attempt to smile and made you feel more at ease yourself. The air suddenly felt lighter and the second time he tried to make that little smile - the smugness on his face, your chest burned with love. Jaebeom covered your palm with his and moved it closer to his mouth. “I wouldn’t be here without your support.“ You knew exactly what he meant by that, how hard it was for both him and you to get his mind to a better place. You weren’t about to shy away and act like you weren’t behind it all. In a great partnership with the man himself, of course. 

“I know.“ You accepted with a playful nod and watched his lips give your palm a kiss with a smile. You were glad you could refer to dark times with a joke and a smile now. Jaebeom let go of your arm and tried to dry his face with the shirt he wore. 

“Ah!“ Jinyoung materialised behind you, his firm palm on your shoulder making you jump in place. “Nothing like a wife’s touch that could calm a man down.“ He teased happily, wrinkles round his eyes as he smiled were the resin for a little upward motion on the corners of your lips. 

“Sh! Shut up, there are strangers in this room.“ you hissed at the man, though. He ruffled your hair with a teasing face expression.

“Hey, show some respect.“ you played back, your unending battle of teasing continuing every time you opened your mouths.

“Right, show some respect to my wife!“ Jaebeom chimed in, regret on his face immediate, as the both of you knew the comeback would be explosive. Jaebeom wrapped an arm around your waist, you not being sure whether he was backing you up or wanted you to back him up in this.

Jinyoung, though, already moved on -  looking at the members and then at his leader and giving you nod. 

don't forget to like and follow for more <3

[peppermintkandy]

A Royal Summons

DC X DP

-------------

Bruce watched as Constantine started drawing something on the ground. They had found a magical artifact on a mission, a pen that can make anything it writes into reality. The villain who had obtained it was relatively easy to outsmart, just a guy who had gotten out of hand trying to fix a mistake. The had part was reversing all the damage he had caused.

They had called the JLD to help with the cleanup, seeing as it was a magical atifact that had caused it. Constantine was the only to come as he had been free at the time.

They showed him the pen that caused the damage. He used some sort of spell on the pen, and everything the villain had changed was reversed. He then offered to take care of it for them.

Bruce had assumed he meant hide or destroy it. That pen could be disastrous if it ends up in the wrong hands.

Then he took out a piece of white chalk and started drawing a circle on the ground.

Now, Bruce may not be magical savy, but he knows what summoning circle looks like. Before he could say anything, though, Superman spoke up.

"What are you doing?" He had stepped closer to get a better look at the circle, which now had the beginnings of a complicated looking symbol in the middle.

"Callin' a friend." Constantine replied simply.

"Who, exactly, are you summoning?" Bruce questioned, also stepping closer. Constantine was almost done, adding a few sigils in the rings at the edge of the circle.

Constantine grunted, standing up and backing away from the finished circle. Before Bruce could ask any more questions, a blinding green light suddenly spread from the circle. Bruce, as well as the rest of the league, was forced to look away.

Soon, the light dimmed to a small glow. As Bruce turned back to the circle, he saw a black liquid start to bubble from the center and spread to the edge. The liquid bubbled and moved, taking shape into something Bruce didn't know the name for. The thing had seemingly infinite eyes that all glowed bright green, and the liquid that made up its form was dotted with small white specks, making it look like a starry expanse.

Bruce was mesmerized and terrified at the same time. It was everything and nothing. It felt like death and rebirth. He wanted to enter it's endless embrace and run in the opposite direction. He wanted to stare into the void and look away, never to see it again.

Before Bruce could do anything, the form shifted, becoming smaller and more human like. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the transformation stopped, revealing a young boy. He was still otherworldly, with unnaturally white hair and glowing green eyes, just one pair, and a semi-transparent tail instead of legs. He wore a black skin tight suit with white gloves and boots, and a white D on his chest.

Bruce, feeling only mildly dazed at the display, looked around to find that the rest of the League pressent, excluding Constantine, also looked confused and a little nervous.

Looking back to the kid, Bruce noticed he also seemed mildly confused. Spotting Constantine, he smiled and flew over.

"Constantine!" The kid floated to a stop in front of said man. "Miss me already?"

Constantine huffed a laugh, "You wish, Kid. Actually, I summoned ya cause the League here found someth'n that feels like your deal."

"Awe, and here I thought you might actually like me." The kid's attempt at sounding disappointed was betrayed by the smile on his face. Bruce had to resist the urge to call Alfred and tell him to get the adoption papers ready. "What have ya got for me?" The kid's expression shifted to something at least resembling serious as he circled around Constantine.

Constantine pointed to Bruce, who still had the pen in hand, "Bats over there's got it. Ask him." The kid turns to look at Bruce. Not his body, just his head, which turns almost 180 degrees. Bruce tenses slightly as the kid's body soon follows, and he floats over to him.

Bruce holds out the pen, and the kid takes it, holding it up to his face to inspect it. "What exactly did this thing do," the kid asked.

Bruce explained everything about how they found the pen and how it was used. To his surprise, the kid listened intently. Only when he finished did the kid finally speak.

"Sounds like something Ghost Writer would have," the kid opened a small portal and put the pen on the other side, "I'll ask him about it." The portal closed as he pulled his hand out.

[marscardigan]

family line, part iii

ellie williams x fem!reader

family line masterlist

summary: falling in love with ellie was easy. it was harder to hate her once you knew she was the one hunting your sister.

word count: 2.6k

warnings: this fic doesn’t follow the original plot of the last of us part ii. canon typical violence. no use of y/n.

You’d always loved the stars. They made you feel closer to the people you lost, a silent reminder that, somewhere, they still existed. Even at the stadium, where you spent most nights alone, you had never truly felt lonely under them.

It had been a full day since you found yourself in the theater with Ellie and Dina. And while you felt a some kind of safety—at least from the brunette’s side—you missed your sister terribly. Without her, the nightmares returned. That’s why you were on the rooftop, staring at the endless sky, forcing yourself to breathe through the suffocating anxiety.

"You should come inside."

The voice nearly made you jump. You turned to find Ellie leaning against the door frame, arms crossed, expression unreadable.

"We don’t have enough meds if you catch a cold," she added, voice clipped but not entirely unkind.

You dropped your gaze, not wanting to meet those sharp green eyes. The panic still hadn’t left you, and forming words felt impossible.

Ellie shifted, clearly growing impatient. "Did you not hear me? Get inside."

Your chest tightened, breath coming in shallow gasps. The edges of your vision blurred. Your lungs refused to expand properly, and the weight pressing against your ribs grew unbearable.

Ellie stepped closer, but her posture changed. The irritation in her stance softened into something else you couldn’t quite decipher. A warm hand settled on your back, hesitant at first, then firmer, grounding.

Ellie knew what was happening. Hell, Ellie knew it better than anyone.

She didn’t say anything, didn’t push. She simply stayed there, her presence steady as the stars above. The minutes stretched, then an hour, maybe longer—until, finally, your breathing slowed. Until the grip of your panic loosened enough for you to lift your gaze to hers.

You whispered a quiet 'thanks', but if she did hear it, she didn’t acknowledge it, didn’t nod or brush it off. But the next morning, something in the air between you had shifted. Everyone could feel it.

Ellie had been pacing near the back of the theater for the past twenty minutes, muttering curses under her breath as she fiddled with something. The occasional thud of her fist against a wooden surface and the frustrated grunts told you whatever she was doing wasn’t going well. You’d been minding your own business—sorting through supplies Dina had left in a storage area—but the noise was starting to get on your nerves.

You turned your head slightly, peeking at her from the corner of your eye. She was hunched over a radio, eyebrows furrowed, jaw tight, fingers twisting the knobs in a futile attempt to get a signal.

You knew that look.

"That thing's not gonna fix itself just because you glare at it," you finally said, leaning against the wall, a small smile plastered on your lips.

Ellie stiffened, her head snapping toward you, "I got it."

"Sure, because that's working out great for you."

She scowled. "Fuck off."

You rolled your eyes but stayed where you were. She kept turning dials, adjusting wires, tapping the side of the radio like that would somehow make it magically start working again. Every few minutes, she’d pause and listen, only to get more irritated when all she heard was static.

Five more minutes passed before she let out a sharp exhale and shoved the radio away from her like it had personally offended her.

"Piece of shit," she grumbled.

You watched her for a second, then sighed. "Let me see."

Ellie gave you an unimpressed look. "What?"

"The radio. Let me see it."

Her fingers drummed against the table as she considered it, eyes flicking between you and the broken equipment. You half expected her to snap at you again, but instead, she scoffed, grabbed the radio, and shoved it into your hands.

"Fine. But if you break it, I’ll kill you."

You smirked. "Noted."

Sitting down, you turned the radio over in your hands, examining the knobs, wires, and the cracked casing. Ellie hovered nearby, arms crossed, watching your moves.

"You hit it a few times, didn’t you?" you asked.

She shifted her weight. "What? No."

"Ellie."

"…Maybe."

You shook your head and got to work. The wiring was all messed up, which explained why it wasn’t connecting to any frequencies. A few frayed pieces had come loose, and some of the internal components were slightly misaligned. Nothing you couldn’t handle.

Your fingers moved instinctively, twisting wires, reconnecting the right circuits, adjusting the battery placement. It wasn’t much different from fixing up your bombs and gadgets back at the stadium. A few minutes later, the soft hum of static filled the air.

Ellie’s head snapped up. "No fucking way."

You didn’t look at her, adjusting one final dial before a faint voice crackled through.

Ellie lunged forward, grabbing the radio from your hands, her face instantly more alert. She turned away, focusing entirely on the device as she fiddled with the settings.

You stretched your arms, smug. "Told you it wasn’t impossible."

Ellie didn’t respond.. You figured she was just relieved the radio worked now, but you didn’t think much of it. Why would you?

Shrugging, you stood up and left her to it.

If you had known what she would eventually use that radio for, maybe you wouldn’t have been so quick to help.

Ellie and Dina had returned from their daily supply run earlier that evening, but something was off. You could tell the moment they stepped inside the theater. Dina looked exhausted, her shoulders slumped, her movements sluggish, and she kept pressing a hand to her stomach like she was trying to steady herself.

The freckled girl, on the other hand, had been eerily quiet. No sarcastic remarks, no sharp glances in your direction—just this rigidness in the way she carried herself, like she was holding something in.

It wasn’t until later, when you were somewhere else in the building, that Dina finally told her.

From the other room, you heard Ellie’s voice, louder than usual, sharp with disbelief.

"You’re what?"

You frowned, pausing mid-step.

A beat of silence, then Dina’s softer voice followed, trying to soothe her. You couldn’t make out everything, but you caught the important part—Dina was pregnant.

Your stomach twisted.

You debated going back, but it wasn’t your place. Whatever was happening, they needed to figure it out themselves.

So, you stayed away.

Later that night, when things had settled and Ellie had cooled off enough to stop pacing the theater like a caged animal, Dina found you.

"Ellie’s going out again tomorrow."

You raised an eyebrow, "Sure."

Dina shifted, biting her lip before continuing. "I can’t go with her."

Something about the way she said it made your stomach drop. You stared at her, not wanting to be the one to say out loud what the brunette was thinking.

Dina’s gaze flickered to the side before settling back on you. "I want you to go instead."

You blinked. "Huh?"

She sighed, rubbing a hand over her face. "Look, I know you two don’t exactly get along, but you held your own back there. And you…" she hesitated, then exhaled. "You saved my life. I trust you."

You scoffed, leaning back against the wall. "Yeah, well, she doesn’t."

Dina gave you a pointed look. "Ellie won’t like it, but she’ll have to deal with it."

That didn’t sound very reassuring.

"She doesn’t even want me here, Dina."

Dina rolled her eyes. "She’ll survive. Just… go with her, alright? Watch her back. It’s dangerous to go outside alone."

You hesitated, thinking about how Ellie had snapped at you the day before, how she looked at you like she was still waiting for an excuse to kick you out.

But then you thought about Dina, about the way she held her stomach earlier, the exhaustion in her eyes.

You sighed. "Fine."

Dina gave you a small, grateful smile. "Thanks."

Somewhere across the theater, Ellie sat alone, sharpening her knife. She had no idea what she’d be in for tomorrow.

You were surprised when she didn't fight against your company, and just accepted it by ignoring you at first. Both of you left the theater in mere silence, as she walked ahead, barely acknowledging your presence. You kept your hands tucked into your pockets, eyes on the cracked pavement as you followed her.

Ellie didn’t want you here, that much was obvious. But even as she kept her distance, you could feel her gaze on you, analyzing your every move.

"So… you really haven’t been outside much, huh?"

You turned to her, brows furrowing at the remark. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

Ellie shrugged. "Just that… your hair’s all down. And it’s not exactly short."

You blinked, unsure where she was going with this.

"Infected could grab it. Get you killed."

"Oh." The realization settled uncomfortably in your stomach. "Right. Uh… thanks for the advice."

Five minutes later, as Ellie returned from rummaging through an abandoned pharmacy, she found you waiting with your hair pulled into two simple braids.

"Better?" you asked, flashing a proud smile.

Ellie scoffed, barely sparing you a glance before continuing forward.

Silence was nice, but after a while, it kind of became suffocating. You were just about to say something—anything—to break it when Ellie suddenly spoke.

"You ever shoot a gun before?"

You hesitated, rubbing your fingers against your sleeve. "…Not exactly."

Ellie stopped so fast that you almost ran into her. "Not exactly?" She turned, her brows furrowing. "—but you saved Dina, right?"

"I mean… I did, technically. But it was kind of a lucky shot." You cleared your throat, not being able to look at her, "I hate to break it to you, but I really don't know what I was doing."

Ellie's expression was blank, as if she'd just crashed down.

You shifted uncomfortably. "The clicker was right in above her, and I—I may have closed my eyes when I pulled the trigger."

Ellie blinked. Once. Twice.

Then, she let out a sharp, incredulous laugh. "You closed your fucking eyes?"

You crossed your arms, suddenly offended. "Hey, I still saved her, didn’t I?"

Ellie groaned, dragging a hand down her face like she was in actual pain. "Jesus fucking Christ."

You frowned, and Ellie turned, muttering something under her breath before storming off the path. You hesitated before following, watching as she stepped into a clearing between two abandoned buildings.

She slung her rifle off her shoulder, turning to you with an exasperated look. "Okay, no. We’re fixing this right now."

Your stomach sank. "What?"

She held up her hands. "Do you or do you not want to survive out here?"

You hesitated. "I mean—"

"Do you or do you not?" she repeated, sharper this time.

You swallowed. "…Yes?"

Ellie tossed her rifle onto her back again and pulled out the pistol holstered at her side. She turned it in her hands before offering you the large gun.

You looked at it warily.

She rolled her eyes. "It’s not gonna bite."

You grabbed it, surprised by the weight. It felt heavier than you expected, awkward in your hands.

Ellie took a step back and pointed at a rusted stop sign a few feet away. "Alright. Shoot."

You squinted. "Just… like that?"

"Yes, just like that."

You frowned, adjusting your grip before raising the gun. You lined up the shot as best as you could, finger hovering over the trigger—

BANG.

The shot went wide, bouncing off the edge of a crumbling brick wall.

Ellie dragged a hand down her face. "Oh, for fuck’s sake." She took a few steps forward, closing the distance between you. "Your stance is wrong. Here—"

She placed her hands on your arms, adjusting the way you held the gun. You stiffened at the sudden contact, but she didn’t seem to notice.

"You’re gripping it too tight. Loosen up." You tried, you really did, but the nerves didn’t help.

Ellie sighed, stepping behind you. "Alright, straighten your arms. Line up the sights. And breathe before you shoot."

You did as she said, inhaling through your nose, exhaling slowly.

Ellie’s voice was lower now, steadier. "Now, squeeze. Don’t jerk it."

You pulled the trigger.

The shot rang out, and this time, it actually hit the stop sign—off to the side, but it was still a hit.

Ellie hummed, pleased by now.

Even when you arrived to the theater, your arms still ached from carrying Ellie's stupid rifle all the way back. You were a better shooter than when you left. And it was all thanks to Ellie.

Now, the two of you found yourselves huddled in the dimly lit theater, an old wooden table between you, covered in scattered materials—wires, broken bottles, and chemical compounds Ellie had looted earlier. Dina was still asleep in the couch, neither of you wanting to wake her up. That left just you and Ellie, working in near silence, the only sounds being the quiet clinking of supplies and the occasional flicker of a match.

Ellie had been eyeing some of the chemicals earlier, her fingers brushing over the labels as if deciphering a puzzle.

"You don’t know how to make proper explosives, do you?" you teased, breaking the silence.

Ellie scoffed, not looking up. "I know enough."

You grinned. "Yeah? Show me."

She hesitated for a second before grabbing a few ingredients, ignoring your teasing ton and how her belly reacted to it, and started mixing them together with a little too much confidence. You winced as she poured too much alcohol into the mixture, watching as it fizzled weakly.

"Okay, stop—just stop." You reached over, steadying the jar. "You're gonna blow us up before you even throw that thing."

Ellie narrowed her eyes at you. "Like you could do better."

You rolled your eyes, pushing her hands aside as you took over. "Watch and learn, rookie."

Carefully, you measured out the ingredients, balancing them with practiced ease. Ellie watched, arms crossed.

"You need to balance the chemicals," you explained, pouring just the right amount of a compound into the mixture. "Too much, and it'll fizzle out. Too little, and it won't even light."

Ellie leaned in slightly, watching your hands work. You struck a match, letting the flame hover over the mixture. A controlled whoosh of fire flared up,.

"Huh," Ellie muttered, clearly impressed.

You smirked. "Now you can thank me."

She rolled her eyes, but there was the faintest twitch of a smirk at the corner of her lips.

The quiet stretched between you, but for once, it wasn’t uncomfortable. You both continued working as you crafted bombs, reinforcing them with whatever scrap you could find. Neither of you spoke much, but then again it didn't felt like a tense silence, and neither of you felt uncomfortable then.

At some point, Ellie stretched her fingers, cracking her knuckles. "This better not be a waste of time," she muttered.

You snorted. "Trust me, it won’t be. You’ll thank me when this saves your ass."

Ellie shot you a glance, something unreadable in her expression, before going back to her work.

The hours passed, and the night deepened. At some point, you glanced over at Ellie, watching the way the dim light flickered against her face, highlighting the freckles dusting her cheeks. She was concentrating, brow furrowed, jaw tight. Even in her frustration, she looked—

You shook the thought away.

Instead, you clung to the moment, silently willing the night to stretch on forever, as if staying in that basement could freeze time itself. Little did you know, Ellie was thinking the exact same thing, even if she tried to ignore the feeling fluttering inside her chest.

taglist !

@kaykeryyy @vahnilla @autisticintr0vert @leavemeinthewater @alexandra-001 @liasxeatt @urge-to @catrapplesauces @jhyoos @womenlover0 @sevyscoven @antobooh

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

(Genshin Impact/GFL/GG:ST) "Pocky Game with their S/O"

Genshin Impact: Navia, Lynette, Eula, Lisa Girls' Frontline: AN-94, AK-12, WA2000, SPAS-12, Helianthus Guilty Gear Strive: Elphelt Valentine

No one requested this, just ate some pocky and the idea came to mind.

(Navia) "Oh? Sounds fun, let's try it!"

Navia cheekily grabs the pocky and puts it in her mouth, extending the stick towards her S/O expectantly.

One of the rules of the game that intrigued her was that you weren't allowed to look away from your partner.

Something Navia has no problem with, as she stares into their eyes.

Her lips form into a smile with each nibble, before she ends up grabbing S/O's face and kissing them anyway once the stick becomes short enough.

(Navia) "Huh? We lost? Hm...Well, we can always just try again!~"

Lynette questions why this game exists.

Why was eating chocolate a game? Isn't it just better to eat the pocky directly?

Well, whatever. If S/O wanted to try it, she can at least give it a shot.

Lynette fidgets a little as they make direct eye contact with each other, slowly taking away a piece of the pocky with each bite.

Right before their lips make contact, she pulls away, a little proud at the short length of the cookie.

(Lynette) "Hm. We did a pretty good job, considering."

She gives a slight smirk to them before resuming her important task at hand: spacing out and mindlessly munching on some cookies the proper way.

Eula's eyes widen slightly before she makes a "hmph!"

(Eula) "As if a simple game like this would be enough to make me falter."

Spoilers: It was.

Eula's cheeks are a crimson hue the entire time, her eyes constantly looking everywhere except S/O.

And already failing the game.

(Eula) "Just, give me a moment to compose myself! The chocolate has a strange taste is all..."

Her heart is beating fast the entire time as their lips grow closer.

It doesn't matter if they were already a couple or if they already kissed, Eula would still be extremely flustered.

(Lisa) "Hm, I think I like the sound of this game."

Lisa has no trouble at all putting the chocolate end into her mouth, waiting for S/O.

Instead of taking nibbles, she takes a massive bite, already being a few inches from their lips.

Still keeping eye contact, she gives them a wink, making S/O falter before she simply bites down completely and breaks the pocky.

(Lisa) "Oh, looks like I lost. Here, grab another one, I want a rematch.~"

It's clear that she does so on purpose, just simply enjoying S/O's reactions. Part of her wants to kiss them directly, but where's the fun in that?

This game made things a lot more fun!

Plus, it was a pretty cute idea.

(AN-94) "There is a game with candy?...I will attempt it for you."

94 is confused, but goes along with S/O's request.

She puts the pocky into her mouth and doesn't even blink as she stares into S/O, calculating how many bites it would take to not make contact with their lips.

94 doesn't react until S/O kisses her, making her eyes widen in surprise.

Not that she hated the sweets or S/O kissing her, but she tilted her head in confusion at their reaction.

(AN-94) "May I ask what the purpose of this game is?...It is for lovers to bond?...Then, I request that we continue playing."

AK-12's eyes remain close, but her eyebrows perk up in curiousity.

(AK-12) "Sure, we can play. I'll take the chocolate end."

She waits until S/O grabs the other end with their lips.

Her eyes finally open as her pink glowing eyes stare directly into them, smile still present and making them pause.

Before she just grabs the pocky with her hand and just kisses S/O full on the lips.

(AK-12) "Mmm~, tastes sweet. Oh, right, I failed the game. Let's try it again."

She would "accidentally" fail a couple more times just to see what kind of reactions S/O made.

WA's normal frown completely vanishes the moment S/O brought up the pocky game to her.

Instead, replaced with a surprised and embarassed expression.

(WA2000) "Wha-Why do you not just eat the cookies normally, are you a child or something!?"

WA begrudgingly (not really) accepts S/O's proposal to play the game and is shutting her eyes, before hearing their laughter.

(WA2000) "I'm not supposed to close my eyes? What does it matter, we're still eating the damn thing!"

The entire time, WA2000 is trying her best to look angry and unaffected, but is failing miserably.

After a few kisses, WA just sighs when she sees S/O's happy expression.

(WA2000) "...Yeah, the pocky tasted fine, now wipe that stupid smirk off your face..."

(SPAS-12) "OH! I love pocky!"

SPAS happily starts munching on the cookies before S/O stops her and tells her about the game.

(SPAS-12) "You wanna use this for a game? Oooooh, okay! That explains why there's a lot of boxes!"

Truthfully, S/O bought multiple boxes because they knew SPAS would just start eating without listening first. They were more for emergencies.

Regardless, SPAS gets a little flustered as she stares directly at S/O, and takes massive bites because she gets distracted by the taste of the pocky.

(SPAS) "Mmmm, chocolatey!...Huh?! I lost?! T-Try me again, I won't lose!"

She loses every single time. Her love for food seals her fate every single time.

(Helianthus) "Pocky game? Do I really seem that young to you...?"

Before S/O could retract their pocky, Helian immediately starts backtracking.

(Helianthus) "H-HANG ON! I DIDN'T SAY I WOULDN'T PLAY!"

If anything, Helain is flattered that S/O wanted to play this game with her, despite her usual stoic demeanor.

Helian has a hard time keeping eye contact, but tries to tough it out.

She fails at not having their lips connect, but it's not a failure she exactly minds.

Helian gets carried away in the moment, forgetting the original purpose of the game and instead just focuses on kissing her S/O.

Before tasting the chocolate in their mouth and quickly leaning back.

(Helianthus) A-AHEM! "I...suppose we failed the challenge..."

Before S/O could even finish proposing the idea to Elphelt-

(Elphelt) "YES! Gimme that pocky!"

With zero hesitation she immediately puts the pocky in her lips, excitedly leaning into S/O with bright eyes.

She kicks the challenge up a notch, by having her hands latch onto S/O's, giggling all the while as she took each bite and savoring the bite and sight.

Elphelt fails the challenge in multiple ways, mostly just by how giddy she is during it.

Accidentally biting too hard, kissing S/O, letting go of the cookie, each result makes her pout and slightly blush.

(Elphelt) "Wha-OH COME ON! I didn't even bite that hard! Hand me another one!"

Elphelt loves playing this pocky game with S/O.

She always had these cookies around due to her love for sweets, but this was the first time they've been used for something this fun!

(Elphelt) "Another one!...We're out? Alright, fine! Lemme grab another box and we can try this again later, I will win!"

S/O at the end of each session has a lot of lipstick, chocolate, and cookie crumbs on their lips.

[nimadjart]

Happy halloweeen. :)

This is the commentary track(?) to my digitober. It's just rambling, so don't expect anything too interesting.

This first picture came out on a whim, I originally didn't intend to do anything for this october. I had just arrived home from helping my mom out with something, and was in a good mood. I think this picture, as sketchy as it looks, reflects that feeling. I'm content with it - and it's halloween themed! All the better.

For the second, I tried to follow the "official inktober" list (something I'd drop quickly in the following days). I'm disastrous at making backgrounds, so I gave it a shot for practice sake. I think it's not a bad result, it almost kinda tells something of a story.

"Boots", hah. It's not terrible, but it's also missing a lot of polish. I think the idea behind it works well for a cute/sexy picture of Angewomon. Maybe some day I'll revisit it? I should put more practice into drawing the human form in the meanwhile lol.

I really dislike the fourth one. I think Lianpunmon deserves better art, so I'll definitely do it again some day. My skills are so undeveloped, it's very obvious seeing this poor hatching.

Speaking of hatching, I bit more than I can chew with this one. The composition isn't interesting enough either, and just like with Lianpunmon there's no story here. At least Angewomon seemed to be interacting with the viewer lol.

The sixth is something I liked better. It's kinda shody, but there's something of an urban fantasy thing going on.

The Vamdemon one I can see the faults: I need better line control, the shapes aren't locked in as well as they should be. Yet, I'm partial to it…

Rapidmon deserves better lol. I still really dig the idea behind this drawing, I just wish I'd have given myself the patience and time needed to render a kickass explosion.

SkullGreymon, I have little to comment. It has zero story, but it's carried by the vibes. It's the first (and arguably last lmao) time I think I was cooking with the halftones.

The tenth is arguably the peak of the entire month. It has some story, a neat composition, and acceptable execution. Strangely enough it was one of the quickest to make: I had an idea, and it came out in a few minutes (compared to some other drawings where I was fighting for my life), and it ultimately was one of the most interacted with drawings in my entire blog. Funny how that goes.

I like a lot the Piemon one, as bland as it is. It's like a design piece, more than a drawing. It helps that the perspective deformation hides my poor linework haha.

I went too hard on the Mephismon X one, to the detriment of the piece. Instead of adding texture, it just looks dirty. Damn.

The thirteenth one was my poor attempt at making a background. Originally, Bakemon was gonna have this devious, whimsical look, but as I finished drawing the stairs I thought "I'd be kinda tired after climbing a few floors", so I changed Bakemon's expression to reflect that. Just a little trivia.

The Jesmon is what I'd argue was my peak. Shapes are locked (as best as my skill lets them), values worked well, it told a story. It's my favourite of the month.

Fiftenth was made, mostly, trying to catch some Adventure buff to the ammount of interactions I'd get. I mean, I had fun drawing the characters, but the reality is that I had petty reasons. I don't dislike it though.

I know exactly what I wanted to do with the sixteenth, and I didn't achieve it. Looking back, I think I should've done it in BW, rather than grayscale, to make it pop more. Fix the composition too. It's too plain. Shame, I really like Lilithmon X's design.

Seventeenth was also one where I just phoned it in. I think the values are all over the place; though I do like the harsh light. Impmon is a lot of fun to draw, all things considered.

Greymon was fun, lots of fun to draw. But this was another piece where I went too crazy trying to use halftones, I ended up making something that lacked impact or presence. I do like, in a self deprecating way, how the background seems okay until you look at it directly and see that it's kinda bad lol.

I made Nefertimon's torso too long! I only realized when I was doing the finishing touches lol. Yet I like the whole thing a lot, I think the texture and lightning kinda sells it as a photo (the white border was an attempt at selling that further). Saw someone refer to it as "the last thing I see before I die", and that comment might stay with me forever lol.

The twentieth is another I had a clear picture in my head as to what I was actually hoping to make, but failed to. Instead of landing some sort of finish, it's on a weird gray (lol) area. Making clouds is hard y'all.

Twenty one is one where I managed to stick the landing to what I had in mind. I think the composition needed a few more minutes of baking, but overall I'm content with the result. Death-X-DORUgoramon is a complex design, so any degree of succesful translation is a win in my book.

I think I needed to draw some more background Kuramon for the twenty second. Y'know, to really sell the swarm thing. It's kinda too clean.

Before twenty three, I had never given myself the time to draw a tree shilouette. It was fun to turn off my brainfor a bit and just draw line, after line, after line, after line. I did the tree first, and then I tried to figure out how to make Shurimon. Originally, I wanted him to be hunched over more dramatically, almost as if he was climbing down the tree, but I was incapable of drawing it in a satisfactory manner. So this is what I got.

Twenty four is so bad! I think Monitamon came out fine, but the background elements are so poorly done! I'm so embarrassed! lol

Kabuterimon was really fun, very dramatic looking. I think it has some serious readability issues with the hands, but I don't dislike the idea I had at all.

Hackmon's drawing was done almost like a sibling piece to the fourteenth, Jesmon's. Like, Huckmon is somehow watching his exhausted future, yet he stands stoic. On it's own, I think it's plain. Like, it has some charm, but it's lacking in impact compared to the fourteenth. But maybe that's for the best of the story?

The Wizarmon sticker came through me realizing I wasn't practicing my lineart! So I did a sticker instead. This was actually version two, but number one was so bad I had to redo it. Despite it being a humble sticker chibi, it's overall the day I spent the most time drawing.

Twenty eight came from me realizing I hadn't done any Alphamon! So I did what I thought would look badass. As much as I like Alphamon, though, his shapes are difficult for me to grasp so it came out shoddy and weak lol.

Twenty nine, Ragna Lordmon vs Ragnamon, was hurt by me recording it. While an exciting thing to do, I felt like I wasn't allowed to do anything but move forward quickly, or to change things (I'd have moved both Ragnamon and the main Ragna Lordmon body closer to the center) that would've made the composition flow better. It's not an abject failure, and the video is fun to watch, but still…

Dorumon is a simple piece that I was a bit surprised to make. My birthday is not information I tell people, but I was just compelled to share a bit of myself. I dunno, it feels weird. I'm weird. It came out cute at least.

And at the last! Noble Pumpmon again. I'd love to tell you that I applied everything I learned throughout the month and it's my best piece and stuff, but that isn't the reality. It's a better show for a similar amount of effort compared to the October 1st drawing, but it's not some crazy good display of betterment. A bit, yes, but less than I had hoped.

If you made it this far into this silly wall of text I wrote, I thank you. I thank everyone who interacted with my drawings, it pleases me a lot to see that someone gave it a like, or a share, or a comment. I learned about myself, and my limits, through this experience. It was tiring, but setting myself the goal of "make a drawing a day" was, paradoxically, liberating. Like, now I had a reason to draw! (despite me having some comission work to do lmfao). It was nice. This was one of the most entertaining octobers in recent years. Thanks again to everyone who participated in some fashion.

[ohwaitimthewriter]

Touchy-feely human!reader headcanon/imagine

Pairings: implied!Caesar x reader & implied!Noa x reader

Warnings: the holy fluff, and well huh, I got a TINY BITTY carried away with Noa's.

Requested:

A/N: DON'T LOOK AT ME I'M DYING (from embarrassment)

Enjoy your reading 😁

Planet of the apes Masterlist.

Being physical to express your emotions may be second nature to you, but I think with Caesar it may have taken a while before you succumbed to the temptation.

I mean, he's quite impressive, let's face it, intimidating even! So being able to enter his personal space without shaking like a leaf or tripping over your own feet is complicated at first.

But Caesar is observant, so he'll spot this trait in you pretty quickly because you'll express it with other apes like Maurice when you gently put your hand on his shoulder to thank him for teaching you a few words in sign language, or with Rocket when you give him a light shoulder tap, laughing as Rocket tells you a funny story about his son and Blue Eyes, for example.

He'll spot the way you press your hand against the forearm of the apes you're saying hello to, or, when you're in a playful mood, the way you'll sprawl your full weight on Ash's or Blue Eyes' backs, arms dangling around their shoulders, as they sit chatting and you just want to tease and disturb them in whatever they were discussing.

And he's going to wonder. Why not him, you know? He'll even get a little jealous that you never dare to put your hands on him, because he's noticed it too, all those times when you have an impulse towards him but always end up retracting your hand halfway through, or whatever gesture you were intending to make.

And I even think that the first real contact will be initiated, or at least requested, by him!

I like to think of it like this:

It had been an exhausting day. You wondered why Ash and Blue Eyes had let you get involved in this crazy idea of teaching you to climb trees on your own.

Your body was aching all over. Your muscles were sore, and if your joints could talk, they'd translate the electric shocks that made every part of your body tense into salty insults.

You'd put your heart and soul into it, and you'd spared no effort, a little pride at having managed, after countless attempts, to climb halfway up a sequoia creeping into the center of your chest. Although, even stretching your muscles had become painful.

You sat cross-legged by the communal fire, forgetting to help yourself with a bowl of vegetables and fresh fruit for dinner, and let yourself be lulled to sleep by the flames, which reproduced an aerial dance, some stretching as far as they could towards the sky while others sprawled out and collapsed in on themselves.

Your lungs drew in a long sigh as your eyelids struggled not to close and let you drift off into the arms of Morpheus. The dance in which the flames twirled and waltzed didn't help you fight off sleep, and it wasn't until a bowl full of vegetables and fruit was placed at your feet that you came out of your somnolence, if only for a moment.

Caesar had just brought it to you and his green eyes caught yours. For a brief moment, they didn't seem to want to let go, as your irises were lost in the gentle waves of sleep that sought to draw you out to sea. A smile spread across your lips as you silently thanked him for his gift, and the effort caused you to close your eyes in another deep, peaceful sigh.

As you remained slumped, elbows resting on your knees to support your body on the verge of sinking into sleep, blindly grabbing a piece of fruit from the bowl to come and chew it languidly, you felt Caesar settle down beside you, his arm barely brushing yours, just enough to let you know he was there.

Caesar watched you slowly chew the apple you had grasped feebly. With your back bent, there was only your elbows on your knees to keep you from sprawling on the floor, and Caesar noticed the depth with which your chest rose and fell, leaving you in such a vulnerable state beside him. His presence didn't seem to upset your nervous system and, in fact, he could almost feel the soothing rush through your muscles as you struggled not to fall asleep.

And for once, Caesar wasn't thinking when he saw you rocking back and forth in the lullaby of sleep. An opportunity to show you that you could lean on him, and even to urge you to rely on him a little more, rather than those other apes to whom you dared to address a touch, a contact that supported your words or emotions. He wanted to show you that you could depend on him, and without a second thought, he leaned over, gently pressing his shoulder against yours to help you keep yourself upright and give you some stability so you could finish eating.

His fur came to tickle your skin along your arm and your body, numb with sleep, found itself irrevocably drawn to him, who transmitted his warmth to you in a shower of tingles where your bodies connected. And you couldn't do otherwise, so you closed the few centimetres that separated you from Caesar, slowly shuffling your way towards his warm form, and let part of your weight rest against his side. His warmth enveloped you like a feather blanket, and you were already ready to fall asleep against him if you didn't feel him moving his arm from time to time to eat, or his chest working to provide him with oxygen.

It was only when your head fell asleep against his shoulder that Caesar turned his eyes to you, his gaze softening only for you as he watched your sleeping form curled up beside him. A pleasant twist ran through his stomach and up into his chest, and if he didn't know better, he might have let it purr with delight because finally you were leaning on him.

In your drowsiness, and perhaps because your state no longer allowed you to keep your emotions in check, you draped your arm around his, your sleepy fingers sinking into his fur and unconsciously beginning to stroke his skin. And if you weren't sinking completely into the arms of Morpheus, you could have sworn you heard a soft moan as Caesar struggled not to show on his face the thousands of tingles that happily and tenderly enwrapped his heart.

And since that day, Caesar has had the honor of feeling your hands against his fur every time an emotion takes hold of you, and he never has to silently ask again, because that night you know he's given you permission to enter his personal space whenever you feel like it. A feeling of pride will make him even more impressive, appealing, when he realizes that you've stopped showing physical affection to the other apes, silently indicating to him that he's won the battle for your love because in reality, it's only him you want to lay your hands on or cuddle.

And he's very proud of it, almost bragging about it, not in words, no, but in the way he holds himself, his chest puffing out proudly when you're leaning on him to rest or when he's sitting down to discuss something somewhat important, you slip your arms around his neck and he can feel your chest pressing against his shoulder blades and your chin resting on the top of his head just because you want a hug and you've been waiting for him to finish talking for 3 hours but the conversation never seems to end.

His fur bristles where you're in contact with his body and he's not the least bit bothered by your weight on his back and just carries on his discussion with a pleasant little twist in the pit of his stomach, telling him that oh boy he should make you his mate right now, for all to see, while keeping his serious demeanor as he talks about solutions to the problems the colony is facing.

He may be trying hard to keep his face focused, but Maurice is no fool. He can see in Caesar's eyes that you're provoking a whirlwind of affectionate emotions in his friend's heart. A whirlwind you don't even seem to be aware of as you close your eyes, escaping a sigh of well-being as you rest even more against Caesar, knowing that no matter how much weight you put on him, he'll remain solidly upright, accepting with delight the sensation of your body pressed against his.

With Noa, I feel like it would be a lot easier and more natural. Like, we already see him being pretty physical with Soona and Anaya (thanks to the recently released deleted scene where we see even more of Noa having his hands hanging all over Soona and Anaya) in the movie. And so showing affection with physical contact with him would be a no-brainer.

And at first, these touches are perceived as simply friendly and almost normal. It's obvious to him that at some point, your hands are going to rest on him:

To thank him for helping you, and in these moments, you always slip your hand into his to give it a gentle squeeze, and every time he takes note of the delicacy of your skin against his, it fascinates him more and more until it becomes a slight obsession: he'll even go so far as to help you with random things you can do on your own, but no, he wants to feel your smooth, delicate skin against his, so he'll help you so you can thank him afterwards with your delicious touch.

To get his attention when he's working on something, and here he has the great satisfaction of feeling your fingers slip into the meanders of his fur at shoulder level, and if his fur bristles all along his spine in pleasant little tingles, he puts this reaction down to the fact that he wasn't expecting you to touch him. (Yeah, sure, it's only pure astonishment, NOA, as if he hadn't smelled you coming *winkwink*).

To say hello in the morning or good night in the evening, your hand fondly squeezes his bicep and, to Noa's delight (which he denies), sometimes you even wrap your arm around his arm in a small cuddle, leaning lightly against him, even if it's a very brief embrace, feeling the weight of your body resting against his creates a warm sensation that coils in the hollow of his chest and suddenly his lower lip drops loosely in a form of bliss, but of course this is completely NORMAL BETWEEN FRIENDS NOA YOU ARE IN MOST TOTAL DENIAL.

Hm. So, let's continue.

For Noa, it's natural and obvious that you're keen on the physical expression of your emotions. He even misses your touch if you don't see him during the day, or if you don't put your hands on him that very day.

No, where it gets interesting is when he realizes that he wants a little more from you than just friendship, and that making you his partner is seriously on his mind.

And oh boy, from this moment on, every physical contact you initiate will become an internal emotional turmoil for Noa beyond words.

And here's a little scene I'm imagining:

Noa wasn't quite sure how he'd ended up with your hands working along his fur near his shoulder. And he wasn't quite sure it mattered as he forced himself to keep his eyes focused on the ripples of the river at his feet.

He could hear you apologizing to him as your fingers carefully dug into his fur, removing the bits of mud that had embedded themselves there. The lapping of the water as you dipped your hands inside to clean them before returning to peck at his brown fur sounded like a melodious bird song in his ears. Occasionally, your fingertips would graze his skin underneath, producing a fine shower of tingling that would spread from the surface of his epidermis to the depths of his guts. And he had no choice but to take a deep breath through his nose, perhaps louder than he would have liked, to calm the sudden funny satisfying twist that came to tickle his stomach.

With the gentleness with which you worked, Noa's muscles tensed in eager anticipation of feeling your skin roam carelessly over his body, and each of your movements became a soft stroke that he silently craved for, as if it were his rightful due.

A damp piece of cloth slid down his shoulder and Noa was almost disappointed not to feel your delicate skin buried in his fur. Disappointed, but only for a short time, as once again your hands began to work, this time on the base of his neck.

You watched Noa tilt his head slightly forward, giving you greater access to the back of his neck, and you could have sworn you heard a rumbling vibrate in his chest as your fingers gently grasped the stained fur and pulled away the mud that had gathered there.

Noa closed his eyes to focus. These images of you draped around him as your hands would roam shamelessly around discovering his body and perhaps your lips would venture down his neck and he suddenly wondered what it would feel like, to feel your breath come crashing against his fur. And if the urge to sink his canines into your skin to claim you as his mate went round and round in his head, he wondered what it would feel like, to feel your smooth teeth, harmless as they were, come to grip the base of his neck. He was already anticipating the pinch he'd feel, not real pain, but the effort of proclaiming him as yours was already very alluring in his mind.

The pain that emerged along his jaw kept him grounded, and when your hand exerted a light pressure on his shoulder to draw his attention, he was desperately hoping that his thought-dilated pupils had retracted back to their usual aspect when he opened his eyes to look at you again.

Unlike your hands, your smile was like gravity, silently thanking you for being able to keep him grounded with a gesture as simple as stretching your lips on either side of your face in a benevolent manner.

"All done!"

The cheerfulness in your voice almost made him regret the end of the little grooming session he would have loved to lose himself in forever. And he swore that one day, when the time was right, he would return the favor with the firm intention of carrying on the session until you became fully his.

So I was saying… internal emotional turmoil.

[poetryandfluffycats]

can you please do mika x fem reader nsfw with him giving her lots of body praise bc shes insecure and calling her a good girl?

A/N: I finished this in like a day so very sorry if it seems rushed or half-assed, I just really liked my idea for it. enjoy!

Pairing: Mika Kagahira x fem!reader

Content: Lingerie is the best way to spice things up in the bedroom, at least that's what the lady behind the counter had said. Trying on lingerie with your boyfriend should be a fun experience, but your mind just can't comprehend that. Luckily, Mika is there to cheer you up, in his own special way.

Warnings: NSFW, oral sex(f receiving), public sex, lots of petnames(pretty girl, good girl, my girl), negative self talk, insecure reader

Words: 1.5k

NSFW oneshot under cut!

The dressing room was as stuffy as it always was, small and filled to the brim with posters and ads advertising the latest sales of the store you were in. Some tacky, cheap lingerie store Mika had dragged you into. The kind the sold the most outrageous designs made with the worst fabrics possible and then marketed to young woman as if it were some sort of high end luxury brand.

Colours of pink, purple, and green were scattered all over the floor, a sea of your failed attempts at finding a sexy outfit fit for you. A eye-shadow wearing teen behind the counter had told you that lingerie was the absolute best way to spice up your bedroom relations, but you figured out early into this fashion show that her words must have been a lie, because none of what you put on looked good at all!

"(name)? Why don't ya try on this one?" Mika's green head of hair poked through the thin curtain of the dressing room, in his hand a set of black, lace, crotchless panties and a matching bralette with tiny embroidered lace hearts over where the nipples would go. "I think ya'd look real pretty..."

You eyed him, then the clothes, then him again, before snatching the item out of his hands and hiding it behind your back, as if it were some forbidden object he wasn't allowed to look at. "I don't know, Mika... maybe we should just leave"

As if he were in compete desperation, Mikas bottom lip stuck out and he looked into your eyes with the biggest puppy dog expression he could muster. It was a look he used on you more than often, a look that always got him what he wanted.

"Please? I've been feelin' bad, since I don't buy ya nice things an' all. Let me do somethin' for ya just this once!"

With those eyes and that dopey grin, it was hard to say no to the man. How could you when he always looked so adorable? You didn't like to disappoint a face like that, and It wasn't like you were trying to! The main reason behind your heastaince towards the skimpy get-ups Mika has throwing at you was well, stupid in all reality, but you were worried he wouldn't like what he saw.

Yeah, stupid, but the whole time you stood in that tiny room surround by the tiniest pieces of clothing known to man, the only thoughts that managed into your mind were negative. Thoughts of how you looked silly, weird, thoughts of how it looked like you were wearing someone else's skin when the lingerie was on your body.

Sick, ugly feelings. Ones that made you feel like all the organs in your body were rearranging themselves.

"Do ya not like it?" You must have zoned out whilst changing, because Mika was now standing right beside you, eyebrows knitted in concentration-like he was trying to read your mind.

You gulped, eyes scanning over yourself in the dirty mirror. You didn't look bad, per say, but not practically good, ever. The lace of the panties sat comfortably around your waist, but the way the fabric hugged your curves in a way that nearly made them budge out didn't feel right to you. The embroidered hearts of the bralette were cute enough, and the way the bra itself pushed your breasts together was a nice touch, but again, something didn't feel right.

Didn't feel like you.

"Its not that, I mean, its nice, I'm just..." You trailed off, searching for the correct words to try get out what you were thinking without really explaining it in depth. Mika didn't need all your problems dumped onto him all at once, and there was nothing he could do about it even if you did. "I'm just not feeling it"

"Why not? Yer gorgeous! Most beautiful in the whole wide world!" His grin stayed, but there was a new look of confusion, and even a bit of sadness that filled his features. "Ya could be a model, I think. I'd watch any show ya were in, I'd be like, ya number one fan!"

"Don't say those sort of things" Hot red spread to your cheeks as you adverted your gaze to the ground. Compliments from Mika were a daily thing, that's just the way he was, but they still never failed to make you smile despite your personal internal struggles. "Not now, its embarrassing"

"But I'm right!"

The boy in front of you made a sound that could only be described as whimpering, pout on his lips widening to the point where you thought his cheeks might simply explode, before he lunged forward, arms wrapping around your middle and pulling you close into his chest. You stumbled a bit, almost falling out of his hold and flat onto your face, but managed to steady yourself by gripping onto his jacket.

"It's not fair" Mika whined into the crook of your neck, leaving feather-light kisses all down the bare skin. His words were muffled from his mouth being pressed so tightly against you, but you could just make out what he was saying. Just...

"Yer perfect, but ya don't know it" Another kiss, this one maybe with a bit more tongue and trailing further down your neck. "That's sad, but I don't like when yer sad. Can I help ya not be sad?"

Was this even the right place for such a question? Mika was a strange man-part of what attracted you to him in the first place was his eccentricities-but this? Was this normal in his eyes? You felt as if your legs might melt into a pool of jelly on the floor, the only thing keeping you upright being Mikas hands holding you in an embrace.

His hold was tight, but soft, his lips on your neck were light and loving, but also so rough and longing at the very same time. God, what were you to do with him?

"What are you trying to do?"

"Hm, dunno" Mika giggled, the precious sound bouncing off the walls. His hands holding you in place began to travel down your back, rubbing over every single bump and cervice of your spine as he slowly lowered to his knees. "I started thinkin' 'bout how I could help ya out, but uh, I got a wee bit excited, but that's okay. I know how to help ya now!"

"Mika, are you fucking serious-"

"Yup! Be a good little pretty girl for me, mkay?"

You barely had time to breathe before Mikas head dove in between your thighs, nose deep in the heat of the crotch less part of your underwear. He took a few deep breaths in, inhaling the scent of you like you were a fresh ocean breeze and he was a man who'd be stranded at sea without water for months. His tongue darted out to give a few tester kitten licks, before fully driving in and licking a full circle around your hole-which was dripping wet already.

"Imma make ya feel real nice, (name)" His voice was like a vibrator against your core, each word sending shivers of arousal up your spine and straight to your brain, clouding it with pleasure, making you forget all about those nasty thoughts of before. "Yer a good girl, so pretty, my pretty lady. Love yer taste so much~"

"Ah!~ M-Mika! We're in public!" You hissed, slapping a hand over your mouth as a moan threatened to slip from your throat. "We're gonna get caught!"

"Nah, don't care. Let em hear, then everyone'll know just how pretty ya are, yeah? And that ya got the best boyfriend to please ya"

A silent sob left your lips as the tip of Mikas tongue entered your hole, flicking up and down and teasing you just perfectly. He knew your body so well, knew where to press up on to make you squirm and whimper, where to suckle to make you scream, he knew it all. Like a mastermind of your body, one might say.

"Pretty, pretty, pretty" Mikas words were like a mantra as he worked. Each and every one of them had you spinning, eyes rolling to the back of your head as the knot in your belly grew hotter and hotter, getting ready to combust at any moment. "Gonna call ya pretty till the day I die, that okay? Yer the prettiest, and I'm the luckiest because you're the prettiest!"

"Christ! Mika! I'm-"

The knot finally snapped, a blinding white light filling your vision for a split second as heat flooded your body. Mika stayed in between your legs for a little while, lapping up all the juices that spilled out from inside you, drinking them like a fine wine. Once he was finished-and once your high was subsided, leaving you a panting mess in the dressing room-he licked one final long stripe up your pussy, wiping the area off with his jacket sleeve before pulling himself back up.

"So, we're buying this one, then?"