#Figuring out what should be shared in what order and how

[14dayswithyou]

Some long-term followers may have noticed this subtle shift already (especially those who are in the 14DWY Discord server or have read this post), but I figured I'd make it official.

I'm no longer associating myself with the yandere VN community.

The TLDR is that the energy here really fuckin SUCKS!! And I don't want to be part of something so hostile and needlessly competitive.

The constant infighting and epicaricacy between communities is deeply upsetting, and it's very disheartening to see aspiring developers cancel their projects because of the unwarranted backlash and harassment they face.

Some entitled folks on here reeeeally need to understand that constantly harassing others for updates, encouraging developers to belittle others to make themselves/their project look better, complaining about a project not meeting the expectations you specifically put in place, attacking other communities because of the parasocial relationship you share with another developer, getting mad that you chose to ignore important PSAs or warnings and faced the repercussions, or even sending in hate messages on anon because you're bored are not things you should be doing — let alone be proud of.

I try to avoid bringing up these topics as it's not the vibe I want to have on this blog (nor do I want to negatively contribute to the Streisand Effect and blow things out of proportion), but I'm genuinely getting tired of being on the receiving end of all this harassment and negativity, seeing it happen to others, and watching other indie developers encourage such vile behaviour. I'm done.

For those wondering what this means for "14 Days With You": for the most part, everything will still continue like usual. I've said this from the very beginning, but 14DWY is just a passion project I pursue whenever I feel like it. It's something I do for fun as a hobby — not because I want to publish a well-known game or turn it into a career. I've been on Tumblr for over thirteen years now, and it's taught me how to grow thick skin, so everything that I'm yapping and yammering about won't stop me from working on 14DWY.

However, this does mean that I won't be as interactive with other developers or their communities anymore; many ill-natured people have ruined this for me.

Because of them, I'm no longer able to voice my opinion on other games without some opinionated rat whispering in my ear about how the developer is "problematic" or that I could get cancelled for simply following them on Twitter. I can't interact with certain games without its parasocial community becoming hostile or gatekeepy towards anyone they don't like. I've seen communities belittle and devalue promising demos because in their eyes, nothing can compare to their favourite game (or their favourite developer). I have been harassed, bullied, and doxxed by other communities and have seen the same thing happen to others as well. I've heard about the developers who weaponise their community's loyalty to attack and drive out their competition. And I've witnessed more than enough developers expressing how badly they want to take a hiatus due to how much unwarranted negativity they receive, but don't want to disappoint their community by doing so.

By saying all of this, you can understand why I dislike being here so much, as well as why I no longer find any enjoyment in interacting with the yandere VN community.

Many people here — fans and developers alike — are so needlessly pushy about their standards and personal opinions being the norm, and if anyone else goes against them, they'll purposefully try to ostracise and bully them out of the community. This place isn't as laid-back or inclusive as it used to be, and I don't want to be associated with a community that acts so hostile and aggressive towards anyone who shares a differing opinion — nor do I want to be part of a space that caters towards developers who'll tear down others in order to have a moment of relevancy.

We're all doing our own thing and making our own games; it shouldn't be a competition. But if you see it as such, then I urge you to take a moment to stop and rethink your actions — or, at the very least, understand how it's affecting you and others around you.

So until there's a reasonable change and people can go back to being less... demanding, hypercritical, and gatekeepy about who interacts with what, I'll be stepping away and continuing to stay in my own bubble, as I have for the past two years now. I've already unfollowed everyone associated with the yandere community many months ago, but I think I'll just unfollow everyone entirely now for my own peace of mind. I will also no longer be interacting with any yandere VN communities (aside from close friends), nor will I be as public with my interests from this moment on. Everything on this blog will be strictly related to 14DWY like usual, and I will continue to block and report any spiteful "anons"/burner accounts sent my way and delete their messages.

Again, this isn't really much of an announcement — it's more so just paragraphs of me bitchin and moanin 🫶 — but I wanted to get this all out there instead of leaving things unsaid and having people come to their own conclusions as to why I've suddenly become less active, less optimistic, and why I've stopped engaging with a majority of the yandere community in the last two years.

So, yeah... ^^; If there's anything I want y'all to take away from this entire post, it's to be kind, open, and understanding towards everyone — developers and communities alike — and to spread support rather than negativity. It's what I want my own community to be known for, so please be mindful of how you treat others online.

And if you find yourself being surrounded by constant toxicity and negativity (be it from friends, mutuals, or even other developers or communities), please don't feel ashamed to step away or cut them off entirely. Put yourself and your mental health first. I also think it'll be good for me to leave all this negative energy behind and continue to kick off 2025 in a better light, so if y'all need to let out any frustrations of your own, feel free to go ham in the replies (obviously, be kind and civil though jghsjg T_T)

[imliterallyf7ckin9crazy]

may i request a gi-hun x fem reader running into him after he wins the games? reader happens to be on the street they toss him onto (she’s prob getting a late night snack) she sees him and rushes to help him and invites him back to her place to wash up. maybe she could draw him a warm bath so she can wash the knots out of his hair, lends him some comfy clothes and makes him some tea uwu

(i was rewatching season 1 and i just want to tuck that man into a warm comfy bed after all the trauma)

tysm ^^ 🤍

FUCKING FIREEEEEEEEE

“𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔴𝔦𝔫𝔫𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔞𝔨𝔢𝔰 𝔦𝔱 𝔞𝔩𝔩”

Gi-hun x f!reader

Warnings: established friend(?)ship, angst with comfort, gi-huh tells reader abt the games, f!reader, gi-hun is going through shit.

A/N: fire request. I also recently rewatched season one and my heart longs for fluffy hair gi-hun back. My shaylaa <\3 this is 4 u fine shyt.

———-

You never guessed this is where your life would have lead you. Alone in a shitty apartment. When you were younger you thought you’d be a doctor or teacher- a lawyer at least. Now you had little money and even fewer friends. The only friend you had really made was long missing. And oh did you miss him.

He was a very sweet man, he always came by the food vender with his daughter. You knew he was also poor, sometimes he wouldn’t have enough money to pay for their dinners. And you’d always cover the rest, telling him it was no huge deal. You could tell him and his daughter were thankful. He would come by without his child too sometimes. He would order something small and cheap… then chat with you the rest of the time. Telling you about all the money he won!!!… then the next day he’d tell you how he had just lost it all the same way he got it- gambling

Though it wasn’t your place, you’d tell him to relax on the gambling. He’d tell you he isn’t in too deep and can stop whenever. You hear it all the time from countless people who decide to share their life’s stories with you. But it didn’t make you see him any less, if anything it showed you why you SHOULD care. Why you should look out for those less fortunate because you never know who might need it.

After so many times of him coming in you guys shifted to a first name basis. You greet him with a smile and a “hello, gi-hun! Welcome back.” Or a “hey, it’s been a while since you’ve stopped by, gi-hun” he became a core part of your shift, you’d see him at least three times a week. And he always had some crazy story to tell you while you worked. You listened to him talk about life. His debt, his destructive habits, what happened to his family. You’d give him real advice and listen to him if he needed. Sometimes you’d even share parts of your fucked up life. How you got to where you were.

But it wasn’t always problems he came to you with

Every one in a while he would win big and come in to tell you about it. Leaving a heavy tip with a joyous smile “keep the change” he’d say as you laugh at him. You’d always get a good laugh in whenever he’s around. If not at his jokes then at his goofy situations he’d get himself in. Over all, you had felt you made a friend. You even got his number so you could reach out when needed

Only he’s been gone for a while. He stopped popping in to say hi and buy a snack, he stopped running by to tell you what he’s won and he stopped flying into your shop asking to be hidden in the back to hide from his loaners. He was just gone. And day by day you figured he either got caught up by the people he was running from or he some how moved far away. And it saddened you, you never realized how lonely you were till now. Up to this point you’ve had someone to occupy your thoughts and time, and now that it’s been gone you struggle to see how you made it without those stupid conversations over street food. And you had no clue where your gi-hun went.

You let out a very long and somber sigh, pulling yourself off your dingy discount couch and shuffle to your room before pulling on a sweater and some sweat pants. You checked yourself over once in the bathroom mirror before lazily walking out of your apartment, locking the door. You then descended down the elevator and onto the Main Street. You had a few extra dollars to spare and a rumbling stomach, so you decided to head down to your local convenience store to pick out some food.

The night air was chilly and the stars that hung in the sky were drowned out by the light pollution of the city lights. You clench your hands into fists and jam them into your pockets to protect them from the freezing cold. You picked up the pace and continued to walk, ignoring people and minding your own business the best you could. You turned down this one back street, dangerous at night but a much quicker way to your destination. That was until you were stopped dead in your tracks, mouth agape.

There he was, gi-hun! Your gi-hun!! Stood at the corner of two streets, looking very lost and confused. You could distinguish that messy hair from any distance. Your hunger was forgotten as quickly as it came, and you couldn’t stop yourself from calling out to him. “G-gi-hun?!” You yelled, waving your hands at him. His head snapped harshly in your direction, eyes filled with an emotion you couldn’t quite place. It seemed like he aged 20 years, he looked incredibly roughed up and exhausted. Seemed like he was barely upright, and he carried large bags with him.

It took a moment of him staring at you until it clicked. It looked like he had forgotten you for a second before it all came rushing back. You didn’t get a smile back though, and you dropped your waving hand. Your smile began to fade as you approached him, only he flinched away and took a small step back. “Gi-hun? It’s me, remember? I work down at that corner noodle stand?” You say, gesturing to the general area of your store. He nodded a bit before relaxing, looking around a bit.

“Hey, are you okay?” You ask, worry laced in your voice as you close more of the distance. He just looked at you as you inched closer and closer, this look of pain seemingly permanently etched into his face. He looked like he wanted to say a million things but couldn’t find the words. And most of all he looked like he had just crawled through the deepest pits of hell. “Do you need to sit, oh god. Come with me” you say as you lightly reach your hand out to him, beckoning him to follow. He looks at your hand distrustfully, skeptical for a reason unknown to you. “Cmon, I can help you.”

He closes his eyes and lets out a breath you didn’t know he was holding before turning to follow you silently. You were glad for that, you had no clue what the hell happened to him but it was clearly something. And he clearly needed help. Your snack venture was long forgotten as you lead him back to your place, trying to get any information out of him. You asked where he went, what happened, why he was gone for so long, how he got back… every time he tried to say he would tear up, and he’d choke the words back down. Telling you he can’t tell you yet, and even if he could he doesn’t know how.

And that was ok with you. You eventually got back, and you guided him to your couch. He analyzed basically your whole house, eyes scanning back and forth and back and forth, looking for danger. Like something could reach out from the walls and get him. You got him a glass of water which he thanked you for but didn’t drink, instead he just stared into the reflection in the water. Lost in thought. You tapped his shoulder, pulling him out of the reeling memories he can’t express.

“Hey, it’s ok. Look, do you want to take a shower or something? No offense but you look like you need one” you say, half trying to help and half trying to lighten the mood. It didn’t really work though, his lips barely twitched. He would have found that funny a few months ago. He did agree though.

The shower wasn’t long at all, maybe 10 ish minutes. You had set him up with some of the over sized things you have, including a hoodie he had bought you months ago after a winning particularly handsome prize. His gazed softened when he saw those laid out for him. He put the clothes on, happy to finally be in something clean, soft, and comfortable clothes. After taking a long, sad look at himself in the mirror he walks out to you waiting for him on the couch with a brush and some tea. “Come here” you call.

At this point in the night he’s so exhausted and shell shocked he was barely awake. The weight of whatever he experienced weighted down heavily on him and you could see it draining the life from him. He hadn’t even smiled yet, the thing you found you missed the most. He sits down next to you. You slide the cup of hot tea to him across the table with the brush in your other hand. He looks at it suspiciously before you reach your hand holding the brush up, flinching a bit before returning to normal. That’s when you noticed the slight bruising across his face.

“It’s ok if you can’t talk about it yet… I was just so worried about you” you start “I missed you coming to say hi at work” you added, chucking slightly as you moved to brush out his wet hair, careful to not rip it out. “I’m sorry” gi-hun says, voice wavering as tears prick his eyes. “I’m sorry”

Your eyes widen a bit as you rub his shoulder lightly “no no gi-hun, it’s ok. You did nothing wrong”

Though you were trying to comfort him your words of reassurance only fueled the tears to fall. You didn’t comment on them, instead you kept rubbing his shoulders, brushing his hair till it was dry, and listened to him softly cry. Cry over everything that happened, that he had to do, and that he has to do going forward. So much had happened and he’s the only one alive to tell the tale. The only one out of all those people to live. The only one…

Eventually, after much comforting, after many “shhh I know”s and “it’s ok I believe you”s gi-hun was finally able to sleep for the first time outside of the games. Games that no one knew of. But you told him that you believed every word of his story. And you did, saying you’d help him find who he was after, but only when he went to bed. That man slept in your arms, on your couch for HOURS. From the story he told you this was probably the first safe nights sleep in days, and you could tell he needed it.

And you needed him. And now he’s back. Talking about mysterious death games and a sales man with a briefcase, but back none the less. And you were grateful for that.

[spnangelbang]

A preview of... “Take Me Back to Eden” 

Author & Artist: sidewinder @hawkland

Rating: Mature

Archive warnings: None

Featured characters: Castiel, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Jack Kline

Featured relationships: Dean Winchester/Castiel, Sam Winchester/Eileen Leahy

Length:  70,000 words

Tags:  alternative Season 15, amnesia, fixing Heaven, angst & pining, almost everyone is in this story

Summary: Jack is dead, Chuck has declared “The End,” and Castiel’s relationship with Dean has never been more broken. Seeing no reason to stay on Earth, Castiel attempts to surrender to the Empty, only to be rejected and condemned to further suffering.

He asks Naomi for one favor, then, in order to return to Heaven and serve with the last of his brethren: to erase all memories of his years and involvement with the Winchesters and Jack, as the loss is too great for him to bear.

Meanwhile, Dean and Sam must deal with Chuck on their own—or perhaps with the help of a few familiar faces and surprising allies. Little do they know about the Empty and Billie’s plan for Jack, which takes a change in course when the Winchesters lock away Chuck, but Amara remains free.

Castiel discovers a group of souls determined to save Heaven in their own way—souls who also seem to know more about him and his past than he does. Paths eventually re-converge, but will Cas be able to remember who he once was? And is there any hope of healing his relationship with Dean?

Excerpt:

The crowd cheered; Robert’s girlfriend Stacey, whom he would marry two years later after she became pregnant, leaned in against him. They embraced for a kiss under the flickering zippo lights before the next song began.

Curious, Castiel noted that Robert’s soul glow wasn’t the only one he could sense in the arena. There were others reliving the concert from their own memory vantage points, souls that shouldn’t be present even if this was one of their favored memories as well. 

They didn’t belong here, in Robert’s heaven. Yet somehow there were four other human souls present at this moment, souls connected only by this one singular event on Earth. Two of those were a couple who were not soulmates, so they technically should not have been sharing a heaven at all.

What was happening here? And how was Castiel supposed to “fix this,” as Naomi ordered, by himself?

He was about to call in for reinforcements, for more angels to help him round up and re-locate the “lost” souls. But then he noticed a man—another soul—wearing a mask reminiscent of a melting face looking right at him, bright eyes peering out of shadowed holes. The mask looked similar to the one worn by the large doll-like figure on the stage.

 “Castiel?” the man asked, his voice muddled by the rubber mask on his face. The music shifted to a mournful acoustic guitar melody, David Gilmour just barely visible through a single opening in the styrofoam wall on stage.

Castiel frowned and moved forward, weaving in between concert-goers who all had their eyes on the guitarist. “You know who I am?” he asked.

“Of course I know you. Long time no see!” The man slapped Castiel’s shoulder, a strange gesture that was apparently meant to be friendly, not aggressive. “C’mon, amigo, you’re just the angel I need.”

Posting date: March 9, 2025!

[thedemonscrawler]

Auuugh I hate exposition I hate one set of characters getting another set up to speed

istg from now on if you weren't present you just don't find out about what happened to your buddies, sorry bruh

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

me when i have to figure out how to structure a fic

[readymades2002]

if i might bitch about work for a second: yesterday was hellishly bad despite being able to keep up with it and i found out that apparently our department made 4600 dollars yesterday which is making me angry beyond belieffffffff

[lilreidgirl]

Do I wanna know?

Summary: You and Drew are best friends, but you want more. What happens when you get invited to a day out on Drew’s friend’s yacht and get more?

Warnings: MDNI(18+), fem!reader, thigh riding, daddy kink, nicknames used (princess, baby, little lady, good girl…), kissing, alcohol (beer), swearing, no use of (y/n), reader wears a skirt, shy!reader, pining amongst friends, English is not my first language, if I forgot anything; please let me know!!

WC: ~2.4k (no idea how that happened)

A/N: I got inspired by this photo so I wrote this at like 2 am and I’m posting it now at 5 am, this is a mess, gn my loves (NOT PROOF READ, SORRY) (also this is my first fic about Drew so yeah)

When your best friend, Drew Starkey, invited you to a small get together on his friend’s yacht, you were more than willing to go. You and him had been friends since years, getting to know each other through mutual friends and suddenly you were eating take out with a b-list celebrity every other night.

You twirled around in front of your full body sized mirror, watching with amusement as your skirt twirls with you, the ruffles bouncing as they fluttered in the wind.

“Wow. Really doesn’t take much to get a smile on that pretty little face of yours, huh?” Drew chuckled as he watched you spin around.

Startled by his voice you stopped your little turns, looking at him with a small playful glare when the dizzy fog finally cleared from your vision.

“I’m just a happy person. You should try it sometime” you shot back, but you knew it was no use. Drew was great at talking, arguing, whatever. He was great with people in a way you just couldn’t figure out for yourself.

But honestly? You were fine just standing on the sidelines watching him do his thing, waiting for him to abandon that and come talk to you for a bit.

You had been fine with it.

Lately every time he laughed and grinned at one of your sarcastic comments and every time he stared at you like he was a theoretical physicist and you had the answers to string theory, you couldn’t help but want more. Couldn’t help but want that “best friend” status to be upgraded to “girlfriend”. Hell, you even dreamt of being called his wife.

For now though, you were just going to try and enjoy the day on a luxurious boat.

Soon you found yourselves in the car. You clicked on random songs on your phone and sand along to the “wait, this is the best part, shut up”’s before yet again changing the song as Drew drove to the harbour, admiring the way you seemed so enthralled by the different songs and music.

“Would love to continue listening to your big world tour concert, little lady, but we’re here,” he announced once he’d gotten the car carefully parked.

Excitedly, you jumped out of Drew’s car, watching as he did the same before you both made your way closer to the water where many ships floated atop the sea.

At the same time, you both spotted Drew’s group of friends, waving at them as they saw you two as well.

You’d gotten to know them a bit but the amount of group hangouts you attended, didn’t really allow you to form a strong bond to any of Drew’s friends.

What can you say?

You’re just not a people person.

You’re a person person.

A Drew person.

You squashed the ridiculous thought, giggling it off before you checked that your outfit was neatly in order.

Upon seeing you inspecting your clothes, Drew leaned down and whispered in your ear, his breath tantalizingly brushed against your ear and neck as he spoke, “You look amazing, baby, don’t worry.”

As you reached the boat, the smile you had shared for a few enchanting seconds came to a sudden end.

“Hey, Drew!” Various different voices greeted the both of you and you both returned the favour with just as much enthusiasm.

One of the guys, the one whose yacht it was presumably, invited everyone aboard.

Your eyes flitted to everything around you, spotting a few seats, some complicated looking boat equipment and random day-to-day fun stuff lying around.

The smell of fish and sea breeze filled the air and your nostrils, but that scent quickly evaporated when Drew stepped next to you, finally finished with catching up with his friend and was now holding out a beer bottle for you to take. His cologne took over, overwhelming your senses. Something you were definitely not complaining about.

You accepted the beer from him, taking a sip before handing it back to him and watching as he repeated your action of drinking from the bottle.

Your gaze drifted to his Adam’s apple as it bobs when he took gulps of the alcoholic drink. He lowered the glass container from his lips, putting his strong bicep right in your line of sight.

As embarrassing as it is to admit you could have almost moaned from just looking at his muscly arm.

He must have taken off his shirt sometime between helping you up the steps on the side of the ship, his hand securely wrapped around your thigh to keep you from falling, and when he seemingly appeared behind you as you admired your surroundings.

Then your eyes found his chest, strong pecs priding over his abs that seemed carved from the very marble that Michelangelo had used to sculpt David, each muscle defined with an almost perfect precision to it.

Just before you could take a good look at his black swim shorts hanging off his hips and hugging his beefy thighs, his voice called your name.

“Hey, come on, picture time,” he reiterated what he had said when you were still zoned out.

“Oh. Okay,” Throwing your thoughts back into reality, you watched as everyone made their way over to the discussed upon place where the photo would be taken.

“Who wants to set the timer?” A girl, who you’d forgotten the name of, asked.

Something with an F? L? A? Who cares.

“Not it!” Was called by everyone but you, your face quickly morphing from a surprised look of “who the hell still uses ‘not it’?” to an accepting face that you were in fact “it”.

The girls and boys all took their places on the netting of the boat. The 5 people in front of you got ready to pose for the group photo.

Efficiently, you adjusted the tripod so that the camera of the phone pointed perfectly towards the centre of everyone.

You bent down, looking at the screen of the mobile. You saw Drew depicted by many pixels, your thighs clenching when he moved his hips up to readjust his position on the midnight blue blanket that lay sprawled over the rough nylon net.

Fuck, he was perfect.

Of course, you fixed your hair one last time before pressing the white button on the right side of the device, starting the 10 second countdown until the picture.

Swiftly, you made your way around the tripod, and plopped down onto the free space between a dark haired guy, you’ve come to know as Matthew, and Drew. You smiled sweetly at the round circles on the back of the phone as Drew slung an arm around your shoulders.

Once the photo was taken, everyone scattered and the usual chatter was back. You ran up to the phone and you looked at the image.

Well fuck.

Drew looked absolutely freaking ethereal.

His sitting in a reclined position with one leg bent and the other stretched out, manspreading, almost made you go feral. He was smiling widely toward the camera, his impossibly bright grin attracting all the attention in the photo.

His body looked like a dream. For a moment, you thought maybe you were dreaming, if you were you would hold onto the memory of the photo, even if it was just a dream, for the rest of your life.

God, pining for your hot best friend made you sound so so pathetic.

The thought that what you were experiencing was just a dream was snapped in two like a twig when Drew came up from behind you and flicked your bare back.

“Ouch!” You exclaimed, a frown forming on your face.

“‘M sorry, princess,” he swung his arms over your shoulders, holding on to you from behind like a koala would his mother, peering at the screen in your hands.

“Did it turn out good?” He asked casually, acting as if he didn’t see how your face was blushing an awfully deep shade of red and don’t even start to think that he missed the way you were obviously turned on.

“Yup,” you answered curtly, ducking down to be released of any physical contact with him, because you felt as if you would melt if he touched you a second longer.

“I’m um… gonna go below deck. The sun uh- it’s hitting me pretty hard right now. I have a headache,” you lied, coming up with some excuse to just get yourself somewhere where you can have your alone time.

“O…kay…” He didn’t seem convinced but that wasn’t for you to deal with in that moment. You made your way down the stairs leading below the deck of the ship, the room was nice and cozy.

With a sigh of relief you sat down on a wooden bench near the kitchen and slipped your phone out of your purse.

After a few minutes of mindlessly scrolling through various social media apps you heard footsteps nearing you, causing you to look up.

Your eyes met none other than Drew Starkey himself.

“On your phone when you have a headache? Really?” He asked unamused. “You lyin’ about the headache or you just stupid?”

“Stupid…?” you offered in a quiet meek voice.

“C’mon, sweetheart, what’s the problem, huh? You don’t like my friends or something?” He questioned as he sat himself down next to you on the oak plank.

“No, no, they’re great, I just…” You really should have been able to come up with something to say but the way his forearm was flexing as it rested on his thigh distracted you.

A smirk grew on Drew’s face. “No yeah, I uh-“ he chucked as he shook his head in what looked like slight disbelief, “I know.”

Unsure of the true meaning behind his comment you averted your eyes to the floor, focusing on the swaying of the boat on the water instead of Drew’s piercing blue eyes staring intently at you.

He leaned back with a sigh, his legs spreading wider and his arm sneaking behind your back and around your waist. “You’re kind of ridiculous, you know that?”

All you could do was nod which earned you yet another laugh from Drew.

Just as you were about to persuade yourself to actually speak, you were pulled onto Drew’s lap by his arm, his hands quickly settling you on his thighs.

“Wha-“

“I know, princess,” he cooed.

You know you should have felt at least slightly degraded or mad because of his tone but the only thing it did, was make you want to clench your thighs together. Which of course wasn’t possible because each of your legs rested on different sides of Drew.

“You look so pretty today, baby,” he said, tucking some loose strands of hair behind your ear before moving his face down to your neck and pressing soft, fleeting, sensational kisses to the side of your collar.

Your breathing became panted and you unintentionally slowly rubbed your core along the material of his pitch black swim trunks.

“Not even a thank you?” He murmured teasingly as his kisses walked over to the area right under your ear and his large hands gripped your hips harshly, stopping you from any further movement.

“Th- thank you…” You whispered, your tone dipped and coated in your lust and arousal.

You felt a small nip on your throat that made you let out a small “Ah-!”

“Thank you…?” He muttered expectantly.

“Sir?” You tried, getting your confirmation of that being the wrong answer when a more harsh bite was left just under your jawline.

“Daddy..” you practically moaned out, the small pleasure that you got from the bites making you rut against Drew’s strong hold on your body.

“Good girl…” he praised, his face finally coming up to meet yours, kissing you softly but also at the same time with an unforeseeable force.

His fingers stopped drilling into the skin over your hipbones, letting you push your aching core down onto his covered thigh.

He broke the kiss, his plump lips and hot breath trailing over your cheek as you both gasped from air.

His hand roughly grabbed the back of your head, wrapping his fingers around your messy hair, holding you tight against him.

Immediately after, his other hand took hold of your hip again, helping you grind down on his swim pants.

“That’s right, baby, use daddy’s leg,” he breathed out heavily.

“Such,” he pressed a sloppy kiss to your jawline, “a,” another kiss was placed on the corner of your mouth, “good,” he said before pecking your lips, “girl,” he murmured into your mouth before shoving his tongue down your throat.

The press of his thigh onto your bikini bottom made a perfect friction emerge against your clit, sending jolts of pleasure through you.

“What about-“ you started.

“I locked the door, sweetheart, no worries.”

The way he basically read your mind made you feel even more turned on.

Your folds rubbed back and forth in your

soaking wet swim bottoms as you gripped Drew’s shoulders tightly, eyes squeezed shut as he continued to spew out praise after praise to you.

Suddenly a knock resounded throughout the room, a sudden halt coming to your despicable actions.

“Hello? Anyone in here? Why is the door locked?” A female voice asked from the other side of the door.

“One second!” Drew called before returning his attention to you.

“We’ll finish this later, yeah?” All you could do was nod, still completely dazed.

He picked you up off his lap, helping you settle back into a standing position and smoothing out both of your guys’ clothes.

With a casual smile on his face he unlocked and opened the door, spouting out some excuse for the door being locked before leading you upstairs with him.

For the rest of the afternoon, you sat, with a drink in hand, watching Drew talk amongst his friends, his eyes flicking to you every once in a short while.

Once other people started leaving and the sun started setting, he walked up to you.

“Ready to leave, princess?”

“Uh-huh,” you uttered out, standing up and saying your goodbyes to everyone that still found themselves on the yacht.

As you walked down the dock, admiring the sunset, you gripped onto Drew’s arm.

“Everything okay?” He asked.

You looked up at him with an “Are you serious?” face, annoyed at his nonchalant antics.

“Gee, sorry, okay?” He chuckled.

“I’ll make you feel good soon. Don’t worry, little lady.”

@emma-e-a

[getvalentined]

An open letter to @staff

I already submitted this to Support under "Feedback," but I'm sharing it here too as I don't expect it to get a response, and I feel like putting in out in public may be more effective than sending it off into the void.

The recent post on the Staff blog about changing tumblr to an algorithmic feed features a large amount of misinformation that I feel staff needs to address, openly and honestly, with information on where this data was sourced at the very least.

Claim 1: Algorithms help small creators.

This is false, as algorithms are designed to push content that gets engagement in order to get it more engagement, thereby assuring that the popular remain popular and the small remain small except in instances of extreme luck.

This can already be seen on the tumblr radar, which is a combination of staff picks (usually the same half-dozen fandoms or niche special interests like Lego photography) which already have a ton of engagement, or posts that are getting enough engagement to hit the radar organically. Tumblr has an algorithm that runs like every other socmed algorithm on the planet, and it will decimate the reach of small creators just like every other platform before it.

Claim 2: Only a small portion of users utilize the chronological feed.

You can find a poll by user @darkwood-sleddog here that at the time of writing this, sits at over 40 THOUSAND responses showing that over 96 percent of them use the chronological feed*. Claiming otherwise isn't just a misstatement, it's a lie. You are lying to your core userbase and expecting them to accept it as fact. It's not just unethical, it's insulting to people who have been supporting your platform for over a decade.

Claim 3: Tumblr is not easy to use.

This is also 100% false and you ABSOLUTELY know it. Tumblr is EXTREMELY easy to use, the issue is that the documentation, the explanations of features, and often even the stability of the service is subpar. All of this would be very easy for staff to fix, if they would invest in the creation of walkthroughs and clear explanations of how various site features work, as well as finally fixing the search function. Your inability to explain how your service works should not result in completely ignoring the needs and wants of your core long-term userbase. The fact that you're more willing to invest in the very systems that have made every other form of social media so horrifically toxic than in trying to make it easier for people to use the service AS IT WORKS NOW and fixing the parts that don't work as well speaks volumes toward what tumblr staff actually cares about.

You will not get a paycheck if your platform becomes defunct, and the thing that makes it special right now is that it is the ONLY large-scale socmed platform on THE ENTIRE INTERNET with a true chronological feed and no aggressive algorithmic content serving. The recent post from staff indicates that you are going to kill that, and are insisting that it's what we want. It is not. I'd hazard to guess that most of the dev team knows it isn't what we want, but I assume the money people don't care. The user base isn't relevant, just how much money they can bring in.

The CEO stated he wanted this to remain as sort of the last bastion of the Old Internet, and yet here we are, watching you declare you intend to burn it to the ground.

You can do so much better than this.

Response to the Update

Under the cut for readability, because everything said above still applies.

I already said this in a reblog on the post itself, but I'm adding it to this one for easy access: people read it that way because that's what you said.

Staff considers the main feed as it exists to be "outdated," to the point that you literally used that word to describe it, and the main goals expressed in this announcement is to figure out what makes "high-quality content" and serve that to users moving forward.

People read it that way because that is what you said.

*The final results of the poll, after 24 hours:

136,635 votes breaks down thusly:

An algorithm based feed where I get "the best of tumblr." @ 1.3% (roughly 1,776 votes)

Chronological feed that only features blogs I follow. @ 95.2% (roughly 130,077 votes)

This doesn't affect me personally. @ 3.5% (roughly 4,782 votes)

[lizardho]

Being at BYU after my mission was weird. Like. Bad weird. Everybody was still acting like missionaries but they had nobody to teach so it all turned into the holier-than-thou bs that missions always degenerate into over time. Just the forced establishment of some weird social hierarchy where value is based on how devout you are, with people digging and scratching and clawing their way around humanity in order to become even more devout.

And this bullshit was actively killing me. The attempts to stay Good Enough were scraping the remnants of my humanity out of my husk like a spoon scraping the last bits of watermelon from a rind - I was doing what I had always done, be Mormon, do what Mormons do, be as good a Mormon as I could be, only it was breaking me. Instead of healing me, making me whole, taking away my burdens, it was pulling the life out of me in exchange for nothing. I was just being squeezed dry of everything I had to offer and being given back shame and isolation and rejection because I didn’t do it first, or fast enough, or with a willing enough heart, or whatever the hell they could come up with.

But despite myself, because most people smarter than me AND dumber than me would have left already, I found myself trying over and over and over again to make it work with no success.

One day, I snap. I’ve had enough. I need answers. I’ve looked everywhere and done everything I could by myself, and nothing had come of it, so I went to talk to a faculty member. A teacher at the school. He taught religion classes and his lessons were powerfully and inspiringly honest, earnest, and filled with raw humanity. I figured if I could get a straight (ha) answer from anyone, it would be that guy. He wasn’t involved in the Mormon rat race. He wasn’t playing the stupid “I’m Worthier Than You” games that were so pernicious on campus. He was being real and open and vulnerable and I needed that from someone.

So I go into his office and I lay my cards on the table. I figure if I’m gonna get helped, I need to be honest. I share with him my weird feelings about dad leaving the church on my mission. About my siblings leaving the church. About my own doubts and hurts. I tell him about how hard it is to be in limbo like this without knowing what to do or where to turn. I tell him I need answers.

And he listens. And then he starts with the usual Mormon apologetics bullshit. And I say “no” because I’m done with that. That doesn’t fly with me anymore. And he sees and hears me say no and he puts a hand on mine, makes direct eye contact, and says,

“You know, you don’t have to go to church, right?”

I, being a person who was hurting, interpreted that as “if you have questions that I can’t answer you should fuck off.” I got defensive immediately and he again listened, put his hand on mine, and said,

“Not what I meant. You can stay if you want, but I want you to know you can leave too. Take a break. Give yourself time to heal. This isn’t supposed to hurt this much, and if it hurts you can take a break and come back when it feels good.”

I’m actually getting choked up just writing that out. Nobody had ever said that to me before. When I talked about my dysphoria to my parents, they said teenagers are supposed to feel like that a little bit. When I talked to people about my difficulties at church they had always told me that it was a sign that church was working. That I was doing it right. That growth was supposed to hurt, that excising the Natural Man from me was supposed to be difficult, that I was supposed to be feeling this anxious and sad and scared. I had never ever ever been told that pain and suffering were signs things were going wrong. I had actually explicitly been told by many many many many many many many many people that it was good, that the hurt and the heartache and the constant feeling of never being good enough and never being able to fit into my own skin or love myself in any meaningful way was desirable. That it was something they envied.

It’s not supposed to hurt. Some things can, and should. My parents were right that some body concerns were normal (although we later found out my specific concerns were more abnormal lmao, I got that tgirl swag). My family and friends were right that challenging myself with difficult assignments and ambitious goals was supposed to feel uncomfortable.

And at the same time, THIS was not supposed to hurt. I was not meant to have this gaping throbbing aching hole in my Me that never let up. It wasn’t supposed to hurt. IT WASN’T SUPPOSED TO HURT.

I don’t know when exactly I started crying, but I was crying the whole rest of the day. It was the first time in a while I had to actually take a Valium to clam down. It wasn’t supposed to hurt.

He also told me that if it ever stopped hurting I could always come back.

I think that was the day I really left. Others might say otherwise, I still tried to make it work for a few more months after that, but the idea that it wasn’t supposed to hurt really changed me.

If any of you are reading this - there are things that are supposed to be difficult. Things that are supposed to hurt. But if your faith or your beliefs about the world or yourself leave you feeling like you’ve been hollowed out at a minor mistake or setback, if your failures and setbacks leave you feeling raw and numb frequently, if the company you keep or the places you stay leave you feeling constantly inadequate with out hope or help, then I’ll tell you the same thing that professor told me:

You can go somewhere else. You can do something else. And you can always come back when you want.

But it’s not supposed to hurt.

[g4rvez-r3id]

One Bed…

S6! Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU Reader

Synopsis: You and Reid get paired together in a hotel room after a case, only to discover there’s only one bed in the hotel room. And that said hotel room is freezing.

Category: Fluff!

Warnings: established friendship, age gap between reid & reader (8 years, spencer is 29, reader is 21/22), takes place mid-season 6, pre-lauren storyline- all basic criminal minds themes, (nothing too graphic, just mentions of a case)- mentions of 4x07 “Memoriam”, 4x26 “…And Back”, 5x01 “Faceless, Nameless”, reid is a reduced to a dummy when it comes to women, teasing, mutual crushing, cuddling, all the fluff! slowburn (?) that should cover it(?)

Author’s Note: hey, lovelies! this is my first time writing on tumblr so please take it easy on me, it’s my first time doing this, haha! my specialty is wattpad and this was originally an idea i had for one of my books but i realized it more so fit reid x reader so here y’all are!! <3

It was a pretty tough case. The ones with children always were, at least. Since it was now the nighttime, everyone had headed back to their hotel for the night. They would be flying home early the very next day.

Hotch had told the team that they would all have to share their rooms as they headed up to the third floor, where all of their rooms were. Hotch handed Emily, Morgan, you and Reid two keycards so they could figure out how they were rooming.

Naturally, Hotch and Rossi went to go share a room. You looked over at Emily, but realized she soon called the room with Morgan. You furrowed her brows at Emily and the woman shrugs, “You snore.”

You deny the rumor and shake your head, “I don’t snore.” Morgan and Emily chuckle to themselves as Morgan opens up their room door with one of the keycards.

“It don’t matter,” Morgan replied. “You’re still sharing a room with Reid.” He tosses over yours and Reid’s keycard to you and you catch it with a sigh as you watch the two disappear into their hotel room.

You turn around and look over at Reid, who is showing off his tight-lipped smile, and holding his satchel strap on his shoulder. He almost looks sad at your reaction to you two sharing a room together. “S-Sorry.” He apologizes, not exactly knowing what he’s sorry for once he says it.

You shake your head and furrow your brows at Reid. “Oh, don’t be sorry, Reid. I’d rather actually share a room with you than either of them.” You lean closer and whisper a bit. “They both snore.”

“We heard that!” Morgan and Emily shout from the other room.

“You were meant to!” You shout back.

Reid has a small smile protruding onto his face as he looks down and you nudge your head towards the room next door. “Come on, I’m wiped.” You yawn, holding the keycard in her hand.

As soon as you open the door, you’re full on expecting two beds — one you’re expecting to crash on after your nightmare of a case and the other you expect Reid to be reading on for the rest of the night, since he barely sleeps enough as it is.

Once you opened that door, your heart dropped. “Oh, my God.” You groan as you throw your head to the ceiling in disbelief and Reid peeks over your shoulder to see what the issue is.

You’re both staring at a menacing queen sized bed, right in the middle of the room.

You chuckle to yourself in disbelief. Of course, you and Reid were stuck with the room that only had one bed. This was bound to happen at some point with the amount of times you’ve had to share a room together. But this was different now that you realized you had a crush not too long ago.

You’d had a bad morning so far. You forgot to set your alarm clock, your coffee machine broke and you wound up with a stain on the shirt you were planning on wearing today to work.

This day could not have possibly gotten worse when you’d taken the Metro this morning and dealt with the crowd of people standing near the door and had to fight your way through them in order to get out.

But your morning ended up taking a turn for the better when you’d walked up to your desk to find your coffee order with a chocolate cake pop next to it.

You looked over at Reid and he smiled at you, guiltily and that’s when you realized he’d be the only person that makes a bad day turn better. And that these feelings you were hiding were blossoming into more.

It didn’t help that Morgan also teased you about it, saying how the pretty boy is falling for the pretty girl and how he didn’t manage to get his or Emily’s coffee orders like he did with you.

And then, you’d fallen hard.

And you worried that this was only going to make it worse.

Both you and Reid looked at one another and you sighed as you placed her go-bag next to the bed.

“I can just sleep on the floor.” Reid offers, already settling his stuff on the floor.

You turn to him, shaking your head. “No, you don’t have to do that, it’s fine.” And you feel bad that he even suggested it to you.

“No, I insist. I don’t- I don’t sleep that much anyways. And you could use the rest.” He told, no hint of annoyance in his voice as he spoke.

You looked back on the bed. You couldn’t ask him to do that. Not for you, as much as the gesture seemed polite. But you’d feel bad if he didn’t at least get a few hours of sleep on a nice bed rather than a hard floor.

Which is why, after their nighttime routines, you were placing pillows in between yourself and Reid. Reid had noticed the goosebumps on your skin as you fixed the pillows between them. He saw that you opted for a white top and sweatpants to wear to bed. No doubt you were freezing.

“This is a pillow barrier. We cannot cross the pillow barrier. The pillow barrier prevents any contact. So, it’s not… weird. Okay?” You explained and Reid nodded to your words. “Okay.”

With that, you turned off the lamp on your bedside and Reid’s was still on because he was currently reading. His book tonight was The Illustrated Man by Ray Bradbury. You’d been the only one who he talked to about it, something about science fiction short stories and how it was his twelfth time reading it.

Your heart absolutely fluttered that day he talked about it, the light in his eyes gleaming with excitement as his mouth moved quickly to explain what he was reading to you. You often hated when Morgan or JJ would quiet him down due to his rambling, but you loved every minute of it.

(Of course, it may have had something to do with the fact that you’ve been harboring a massive crush on him ever since you joined the bureau nearly three years ago.)

An hour or so had passed and Reid had finally gone to bed. But your slumber was being interrupted by the freezing cold air every hour or so. You were confused on how a hotel room could be so freaking cold.

You turned over to see Reid’s backside and realized that one of the pillows had been removed from the pillow barrier and then realized you were the one that had been holding the pillow.

But you held onto it even tighter when the cold air touched your skin and you moved deeper into the covers. Doing so, you realized your foot nudged against Reid’s leg. You also noticed that Reid was still awake because he turned his head over to the girl.

“S-Sorry.” You muttered as you burrowed yourself deeper in the covers. Reid then sat up and turned the lamp on. “Are you cold?” He asked.

“J-J-Just a little.” You admitted, teeth chattering as you spoke. It had to have been below 40 degrees in this room. Reid stood up from his side of the bed and you felt him get up and you turned over to see what he was doing.

You then saw Reid had reached into his bag and picked up one of his sweaters. It was his red cardigan sweater he’d worn just about a couple of cases back. He was gonna wear it tomorrow before they left but he hadn’t had a use for it at the moment.

“Here,” Reid spoke, tossing the cardigan to you on the bed. “You need it more than I do.” You didn’t bother to get out of the covers as you put it on and wrapped it around your body.

“Sorry I woke you up.” You apologized to Reid as he got back in the covers. “No, it’s fine. I was already awake.” Reid stated, turning the lamp on before getting deep in the covers as well.

“You never went to bed?” You asked. “Can’t really attempt to sleep when all you can hear is teeth chattering nonstop.” Reid told, and you chuckled a bit through your shivers. “Sorry.” She said. “It’s okay, really. I don’t sleep much anyways.” Reid admitted and you turned over to him.

You two looked into each other’s eyes and you’d scooted back a bit, realizing you were getting way too close. No, no, don’t think about kissing his perfect lips, right now. But you felt the heat radiating off of his body practically.

“Any facts on how to stay warm?” You joked and Reid shrugged. “Well, there’s warm beverages like hot tea and coffee that could help you stay warm. Moving around at least once an hour and avoid sitting still for long periods. Even light exercise will help keep you warm. There’s also—”

Reid then stopped himself and you furrowed her eyebrows at him. “What’s wrong?” You asked.

“Oh, this is usually where most people stop me from droning on an on.” He said. “I’m aware that I tend to ramble a lot.”

“Well, I’m not most people,” You told and Reid was left confused for a moment. “Go on.” You encouraged.

You always loved his quirks, his personality, his rambling, the way he often sported cashmere cardigans and mismatched socks because he thought it was good luck. Everything about him you just seemed to enjoy. And he didn’t seem to realize it until now.

Spencer smiled to himself a bit and carried on with his last sentence, hoping to God it wouldn’t sound strange suggesting it. “There’s, uh, also sharing, uh… body heat with… someone. The rate of heat transferred from one body to another increases with the difference in temperature between them. Consequently, the rate of heat lost from a human to the surrounding very cold ambient environment is lower than the rate of heat lost from a human to another human. Like, cuddling, for example, it actually has warming benefits.” He explained, finishing off with his signature tight-lipped smile.

“Cuddling?” You questioned, raising a brow at Reid.

Reid looked at you and realized that maybe you viewed that fact as him trying to cuddle with you and felt as if he was initiating something that he didn’t mean to initiate.

“Not-Not-Not that I, uh, was suggesting that, uh… we-we should, no, I do-did-didn’t—” After stuttering numerous times, Reid nearly just shut up completely and was happy that you had finally decided to interrupt him.

“No, it’s, uh,” You sat up a bit. “It’s actually not a bad idea.” It was Reid’s turn to be confused now as he raised a brow at you this time. “I mean, if you are-if you are… uh, com-comfortable with it… that is.”

Reid’s mouth is open in shock and you close your eyes, now realizing how it sounds. “Oh, God, this just got weird. Uh, how about I just sleep on the floor tonight?”

“No!” Reid answered immediately and you looked back at him, in shock on how fast he denied that. He clears his throat. “I mean, I don’t-I don’t mind. As long as, uh, y-you don’t?” He finished off in rather a question than a statement.

“Uhm, not-not at all. I’m freezing anyways.” It took a second for either one to move so you just started off by removing the rest of the pillow barrier between them. It a simple start to a grand finale.

Since Reid was very inexperienced on how to handle things with girls involved, you kind of just took the lead. You then hesitantly put your head on his chest, feeling his heartbeat going 100 miles per hour as you did so.

Reid felt like he didn’t know where to put his hands and immediately settled his right arm around your waist. You kind of found it cute at how flustered he seemed. You wrapped her arm around his slender torso, holding onto him.

In the midst of getting comfortable, the heat radiated off both of their bodies and you snuggled closer subconsciously if anything. Reid’s head rested on top of yours as you moved closer.

“This, uh, this isn’t weird, right?” You asked, beating yourself up for even asking. “Not weird at all.” Reid assured, answering rather quickly. “I think it’s best if we don’t mention this at all to the team, though—” You nod faintly, “I agree.” She said. “They’d never let us live it down. This is purely because I’m cold, that’s it.” Reid agrees, “Yes, that’s all it is.”

She could see Morgan and Emily’s teasing and Garcia’s prying from a mile away. There was absolutely no way they’d live down the harrowing embarrassment.

“Do you think, you could like… I don’t know, give me like some… random facts about something?” You asked and Reid didn’t quite understand what you were asking. “It would really help me sleep.” You added, knowing you could listen to him all day if you wanted. And he’d secretly hoped you wanted to.

So, Reid decided to ramble about anything necessary. It started off with some minor body heating facts, then about numbers, then Doctor Who, then the hotel building’s history and the architecture.

What Reid didn’t realize was that you’d had fallen asleep as soon as he started talking about Doctor Who and he should’ve realized sooner when you stopped asking questions and started responding with ‘mm-hmm’ every few seconds until you were finally lulled to sleep.

He finally came to a stop around 3:30am and noticed that the teeth chattering had finally stopped. He looked down at you and had taken account of your features like he hadn’t before.

Your nose that scrunched up when you slept and had an itch to scratch. Her eyelids hiding the orbs he’d admire once in a while when you looked his way. Her lips (that were in dire need of chapstick at the moment) but nonetheless looked… good. Definitely not kissable. Your hair, which was currently to your shoulders once you cut it on a whim. He never told you but he liked it at this length. He preferred your hair longer when it was but you could suit anything and he’d still think you were pretty.

Yes, he’d admit it — Spencer Reid thought you were pretty.

There was a total of five times in his life now that he realized he may have a slight crush on you.

The first time being when you walked into the bullpen that first day. You started off with a consult on the case and he admittedly thought you very pretty and Garcia and Emily teased him for it. But he was allowed to think you were pretty without liking you. But when it came to it, he was stuttering like an idiot and his facts surrounding the case were running 100 miles an hour in his brain and Emily said something about his IQ being slashed to 60. That’s when he knew something was up. He never got like this before. But of course, he’d never admit it.

The second time was when you defended him in Las Vegas when he thought his dad murdered Riley Jenkins. When Morgan and Rossi were giving him a hard time, you’d taken his side. It didn’t help that you’d also had issues with your own father. He always knew he could relate to you with the daddy issues — it’s probably the reason why you two ended up so close. You’d stuck by his side during the whole thing and he’d known you wouldn’t exactly do that for anyone else on the team that quickly after you’d joined. And he’d do it for you, too.

The third time was the time when they had that case in Canada and you two were paired up to look into the life of their unsub, Lucas Turner. He remembered climbing on the ladder and you following behind him and how you almost fell off the unsteady ladder but he’d caught you. You were both stuck in a weird position at first, his hand around your waist and your arm around his neck. He remembered how he looked into your eyes and felt a weird feeling in the pit of his stomach. And in a weird way, he sensed it from you too, but he wasn’t so sure if you felt the same way. He knew he was sure when you had immediately pulled away from the awkward encounter. But he couldn’t blame you. After that, the weird feeling in his stomach didn’t go away.

The fourth time was after he got shot in the leg and you had decided to stay with him for the night in the hospital. He didn’t even remember sleeping, if he was being honest. But he could remember your distinct laugh and your jokes and your facts about random stuff like he’d often do. You two had talked almost the whole night until maybe around 5am when you finally drifted off to sleep. He remembered how content he was when he turned over and had seen you sleeping right next to him. You looked uncomfortable in the chair you were sleeping in but you had wanted to be near him nonetheless. You had even taken him home once he was released. Of course, the team would come to visit before he got out of the hospital but you staying the entire time he was there meant more than anything.

The fifth and final time had been this moment. You, here, sleeping on his chest — simply because of body heat. He really didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable with that fact, he just thought he’d be telling you for her own benefit and to use that how you saw fit. He guessed, you saw it fit with him. And the fact that you liked his rambling, oh, that poor boy’s heart leaped so quickly.

But even after all these times he realized he may have a slight crush on you, he knew that you’d probably never feel the same way even with your head on his chest like this. You two were best friends and nothing more. Since JJ left, you two clung to the hip. You guys had each other now and that was pretty much all you needed. Of course, the two youngest team members should be friends, right?

Granted, you had eight years between you two which was also another reason why Reid couldn’t pursue his crush on you. You were twenty-one, turning twenty-two next month and he was coming up on twenty-nine. You’d started at the BAU the same time Rossi had, making you about eighteen when you were a consult on the case. But the way you carried yourself when you walked in the bullpen that day made you seem older. It seemed almost weird to him, liking you when you were so young. So, here he was, still holding back.

But now… times were different and they were different ages now and you were an adult in your early 20s. And finally since he maybe finally got to know you over the years, he realized you were an awesome person. An awesome person who bad things have happened to. In ways, he’d seen a younger version of himself walking through the BAU at times. You were nice and sweet and pretty and… well, Reid just didn’t know what his exact feelings were just yet.

When you two got up the next morning, you’d both kept your word about not reiterating a word to the team about their sleeping situation. You two actually hadn’t said a word to each other all morning because you were so busy, getting ready to leave for the jet.

And once you two left the room, you turned your key in and headed off to the jet to return home. What happened in that hotel room… stayed in that hotel room, as far as you guys were concerned.

But the one thing Reid told the team was that he didn’t even mind that you snored.

i hope y’all enjoyed my first tumblr story!! please let me know if y’all would like more!! :) thank you for reading! love you all!! <333

-mya

[absolutely-esme]

I have seen too many posts where a time traveling member of the JL decides to kill Danny to prevent Dan from happening and not nearly enough where they decide to kill Vlad for the same reason.

Even if a hero was pushed to the point of preemptively killing one of the two people Dan was made from in order to prevent his creation, why would they pick the one who is currently both a hero and a kid instead of the one who's already a villain and a grown ass adult?

Also, it would be so much more fun to read about Vlad getting hunted down by Booster Gold or scrambling to try and stay one step ahead of the world's fastest man while desperately trying to figure out which of his evil schemes they found out and got this hero's attention and pissed them off this much.

Was it bugging his nemesis's house? He can see how that probably looks bad out of context, but he swears the video surveillance of a teenager's bedroom was regular supervillain creepiness, not other types of creepiness!

Edit: Two things.

First off, my wording about having seen too many of the other thing was intended playfully. I am not putting those fics down. You don't have to justify it to me, and I am genuinely sorry if I came across as antagonistic. I think everyone should be allowed to write whatever they want and I don't expect it all to adhere to my likes and dislikes.

That said, I wanted to address something else. I've gotten a few different people just talking about how they would have no reason to target Vlad because of what looks like an older version of Danny, and I wanted to clarify.

Here's the thing: Dan does not look like an older version of Danny, he looks like a fusion of Danny and Vlad.

Unless someone they have reason to believe tells them that Danny grows up to be Dan, there's no reason for them to assume that Danny and Dan are the same person (especially considering that Dan is a name the fans came up with and not something the character himself went by).

So this time traveler sees a teen hero fighting an adult villain both of whom share differing physical characteristics with the Future threat, and the most likely conclusion to draw is that it's a Conner scenario.

Alternately, maybe they did actual research on the origins of the threat before time traveling instead of just hoping that murdering the first person they saw with a familial-level resemblance to the threat would prevent him from going on a rampage.

Here are some pictures of them

See how much Dan gets from Vlad's side?

[tbaluver]

Husband/ Father Headcanons- The Love And DeepSpace Men

order: xavier x fem! reader, zayne x fem! reader, rafayel x fem! reader, sylus x fem! reader genre: fluff fluff a/n: hihi lovelies! i apologize that my reqs are coming supa late but i should finish and post them so soon after my school semester ends! i literally have so many in my drafts (╥﹏╥) i usually overthink my reqs which is why i take super long but here's some husband material to feed you all for now i hope ( ◡̀_◡́)ᕤ talk to you all so soon mwah (∩˃o˂∩)♡

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

He loves doing simple things with you like going to the supermarket. He’s read somewhere on the internet that that's what married couples are supposed to do on earth.

Morning routines with Xavier are always so warm and sweet. As you both get ready for the day, he’ll take your hand, carefully adjusting your wedding ring before giving it a soft kiss.

Whenever your newborn baby starts crying just as you’re both about to eat, he always prioritizes you. He’ll reassure you that you can go ahead and eat without him and enjoy your meal, promising you that he’ll take care of the baby.

You and Xavier share a special inside joke just between the two of you about the cute sounds your baby makes. Whether it’s the random babbling or their adorable squeals, always brings a smile and laugh to the both of you.

Xavier loves hearing and seeing your child laugh and will do absolutely anything to make them smile whether it’s through tickling, playing peekaboo, pulling silly faces, or using a high pitched voice

Lots of snuggles with you and your baby. You’d have your little one nestled safely right in the middle of the two of you as you all fall into deep slumber. He especially loves having his child rest on his chest while you snuggle up beside him.

Zayne:

Whenever your baby girl starts walking or crawling, he’ll consistently clean the floors of the house multiple times to keep the floor clean for his baby girl and to also have a clean house in general.

Your daughter has her own little kitchen playset because she loves watching either of you cook. Sometimes, while Zayne’s busy with his patients reports, she’ll run up to him with a plate of her plastic food to share her ‘cooking’ with him. He loves to play along to see her adorable smile, pretending to savor it and tell her how delicious it is.

Whenever it’s a quiet time between the two of you, enjoying each other’s company and doing your own thing, Zayne often reaches over to gently rub his thumb against your wedding ring, often reminiscing about the day you two got married and a small smile curling on his lips.

Anytime you ask him to grab something for you while he’s out, he always goes the extra mile and adds a little something extra for you- and for him as well especially if it’s something sweet. If you ask for the next series of your favorite book you love, he’ll just get the entire collection so you can binge-read it right away. He’ll even pick up a copy of the book you’re currently reading so he can talk about it with you.

Rafayel:

Everyday being married to you feels like a blessing from the gods. He wakes up in the morning to see your beautiful sleeping figure right beside him, wearing the wedding ring on your finger that ties you both together forever. Rafayel always greets you with something cheesy when you wake up like, “Hello my beautiful wife.” with a big smile on his face.

Rafayel flirts with you as if you haven’t been married for a couple years now and often says “I love you” with any chance he gets. “Heyy my lovely gorgeous wife, before you come home, do ya think you can pick me up some extra brushes? I think our little glub glubs hid them again...oh and by the way I love you!”

He always wears his ring. He can’t help but fidget with the ring whenever he starts to miss you, smiling as thinks about the day you both exchanged your vows.

After a long day at work, you can always find your lemurian children running up to greet you with your husband. Sometimes they like to show off their artwork they’ve all made together and most of the time it’s all just for you.

However he can always tell when you’re exhausted and drained, so he’ll gently excuse the kids, assuring them you’ll spend time with them later. For now he’s happy to entertain the children so you can get your rest. He’ll make up a random activity to keep the children busy so he can do small things for you like running a bath or preparing some meals for you

Sylus:

Anytime Sylus and his baby girl are shopping, he’ll always ask her what she wants or what she prefers. He treats her like a princess just like her mommy.

“hmm....pink! no, red!...pink!”

“how about....we get both dear?”

and there’s something so adorable seeing her so happy that makes him feel so warm and fuzzy inside.

Sylus does not mind in any timeline or universe if you’re comfortable being provided for. He can afford it and nothing can hurt his card even if you tried.

As years go by, he’ll make sure your wedding ring isn’t getting worn out or has any chips in it. Not that it would ever get worn off from its high quality. If it does have any problems, he’s quick to get it fixed, making sure that your ring will always shine with you.

Before you both unwind for the night, he’ll gently kiss the back of your hand where your wedding ring rests, before slowly slipping it off for the night.

Anytime you’re home from a long day of work, he’s already outside waiting for you to take out things in your car so you don’t have to carry anything.

After a long shift, you can always come home to find a warm dinner waiting for you with your favorite drink. The house would be clean and your baby girl is already tucked in. He’ll sit by you at the dining table, a glass in his hand, sharing stories about his day or simply listening as you tell him about yours.

[luludeluluramblings]

Smalltown!Neglected!Meta!Reader x Yandere!Batfam ☁️ Part Three

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Part One ☁️ Part Two ☁️ Part Four ☁️ Part Five ☁️ Part Six ☁️ Part Seven ☁️ Part Eight

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: I’m realizing I’m struggling to find a good breaking point for reader, cause I want reader to break. I’m terrible at coming up with conflict though. (I’m not much of a writer, but I’m trying.)

A/N: There will be Romantic Yanderes. But, we’ll get to that later when we talk about each yandere. (Most will be platonic or start platonically at least.)

A/N: Hopefully y’all are noticing that Reader is in this constant state of just trying to cope. (If I wrote it correctly, that is.)

Warning(s): Yandere themes, Obsessive behavior

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

So, Reader’s childhood crush shows up looking fine and kind

Alfred informs the others of the unexpected guest.

Bruce isn’t home, Damian is out with Jon. Stephanie and Cass are busy in Gotham, Duke’s out on Patrol, Dick’s in Bludhaven, Jason meeting this guy is a bad idea, and Barbara’s at work.

Tim, being the only one home on a rare break (in reality working cases in the Batcave) is practically ordered to scope this guy out.

Which annoys Tim, because Reader is just fawning over their old crush and the truck.

The truck is surprising, not something he expected Reader to want. But, reader is practically crying over it.

Tim would have just brushed it off, but he notices how this guy keeps touching reader.

Practically clings to Reader. Even sniffing unaware teary eyed reader. (Teary eyed reader is…. Cute.)

Tim makes eye contact with this guy, and he looks… smug. Like he won the grand prize.

And, it pisses Tim off. (Why is he so smug? What does he know that I don’t?)

Childhood crush isn’t staying long, he’s going to catch a flight back to the smalltown.

Reader happily offers to drive him to the airport and Tim just hops in the backseat of the truck. (Why? Oh, I just want to get out of the manor for a bit. Hope you don’t mind.)

Childhood crush is peeved, but hides it from Reader. (Tim can tell. He’s a detective, it’s his job.)

The entire ride is Reader and Childhood crush reminiscing and catching up on smalltown gossip.

Tim is listening in on everything with intrest, realizing he knows practically NOTHING about reader. (Didn’t bother researching cause he was pissed and didn’t consider reader worth the effort when he had more important things to do.)

Now, he’s getting to see a side of Reader that no one in Gotham has really seen yet.

Reader is funny, approachable, a hint of a flirt, apparently sings, loves to spend time with people they care about, and a slight geek.

Tim is a bit entranced/intrigued. But, his biggest concern is Childhood crush.

Why is this guy so possessive of reader? What does he know that Tim doesn’t? Something’s amiss, and he’s going to figure it out.

(And, maybe he should get to know Reader some more. They’re trying to make him feel comfortable in the truck, including him in conversation, sharing happy memories and information with him, willingly. It’s nice. It’s soothing.)

Eventually, Childhood crush is dropped off at the airport. But, not after he tells reader, there will always be a place back home for them and to come home soon. We miss you. I miss you. Come Home.

The ride back to the manor is done in comfortable silence. Or, at least, to Reader.

For Tim, he has a lot to think about.

What does he know about Reader? What more is there to Reader? He wants to know more. He wants to know everything.

He asks questions on the way back, occasionally breaking the silence.

Reader happily answers, expecting this will change things between them.

It does for Tim, but not as much for Reader.

Tim jumps into discovering everything he can as soon as he gets back to the BatComputer, but he’s not ignoring reader anymore. He’s almost friendly. (He’s still busy as mess. Not much time to hangout.)

Which makes reader feel better, because Duke and Cassandra disappear for about two weeks after that. (Mission.)

Reader worries and wonders where they are.

Bruce says the two are taking a ‘small vacation’.

(Reader knows he’s probably lying, but in the off chance he isn’t, Reader feels a bit put out.)

Reader is really leaning on those phone calls to their friends and family. They spend hours talking on the phone while pacing the halls, their room, and the garden.

Everyone back in the town wants them home. They miss Reader soooo much. They just understand reader more than these rich city people.

They can’t wait for reader to come home visit.

Damian and Reader eventually have a confrontation.

Damian finds Reader cooking in the kitchen.

(Alfred lets Reader cook, and Reader helps occasionally with dinner and meals.)

Reader offers food to Damian, a peace offering.

Damian, obviously, rejects it.

Doesn’t matter that he’s vegetarian or if he’s not hungry, he was going to reject it regardless.

And then he verbally tears into reader.

Insulting everything about them, the food, their actions, their attitude, their clothing.

Nothing is off limits. (Damian’s had a bad day and is pent up. He wants an outlet and Reader is right there and the object of most of his doubts.)

Reader shuts down. Going cold and looking startlingly blank. (Eerily reminding Damian of Batman Bruce.)

After this all attempts for Reader to bond with Damian stop.

(Sometimes you just gotta cut your losses.)

It doesn’t help that Damian one day hears Reader on the phone when they’re pacing the halls.

Talking sweetly and softly to someone in such a loving voice. Before hanging up with an ‘I love you.’

Damian initially begins to try to interrogate reader. (Who was that? Are you having relations with someone? Does Bruce know?)

Only for reader to bluntly state that they were talking to their younger brother and it’s none of Damian’s business before brushing past him.

Damian would grab at them, but he’s a bit stunned.

He knew Reader had another brother. Bruce was going to try to bring him to the manor. (Still is trying to bring him to the manor.)

But, now doubts start to creep in.

Because he wants that. That unconditional love Reader so willingly gives to their brother.

He wants that love. He wants someone to say ‘I love you’ to him like it’s as easy as breathing.

Damian brushes it off at the moment, but it sits with him. (He’ll fix things eventually. He’ll apologize. He’ll have that one day. He will.)

[lalunanymph]

THE MAKING OF A MRS.

🗝️ LESSON 1: BECOMING MRS. QIN

shackled to sylus and stuck in the N109 zone and with no way of leaving until you figure out how to remove the aether core bond between the two of you, you take up his offer (and begrudging help) to try and blend in with his high-stakes, high-rewards life. how? by learning struggling to be his wife

ᥫ᭡ fem!reader, arranged marriage, slow burn, contract marriage, fluff, crack, we stress sylus out so badly....

ᥫ᭡ dawn says: hehe im so EXCITED to share this like u have no idea </3 fluff/crack for arranged marriage is something i've always wanted to explore and this idea is perfect to take a dive in 🥹 i hope u all loved this as much as i had fun writing it <3 ps: no steamy parts... yet 🫣

⇢ ˗ˏˋ main directory | lesson 2

“What do you mean I should chop off my hand?” 

Your seething and refusal to submit to his suggestion draws the first pulse of a migraine in Sylus’ right temple. 

Taking refuge back in his mansion after the Salon Hotel explosion, his face is pale amidst the black upholstery, though his grimace never falters. The air is ripe with tension, and you try for the umpteenth time to free your wrist from the morose reality of being shackled to one dangerous and trigger happy Onychinus leader.

You can tell he isn’t exactly thrilled by this new development as well, his jaw tight and ruby eyes flickering to your face, simmering with irritation.

But, he tempers down his vexation, preferring to think forward.

As a marked man since time immemorial, he’s never had the privilege to sit around and revel in misery; always working one step forward on the chess board while he peels his glinting eyes towards the bigger picture.

And right now, there is only one variable he can foresee until this little mess gets sorted.

Sylus’ lips curl into a smirk, and you can tell he has a potentially life threatening idea brewing in that sick mind of his. As much as you try to figure it out, predicting his behavior is out of your reach. One could never tell where a flame was going to fall and explode into a blaze.

“We will stay here and figure it out,” he promises. “In the meantime, I want to strike a deal.”

Your scowl is adorable, if a little uncalled for in a moment like this. When Sylus told you the both of you were more alike than you would think, he never anticipated actually having to be in your vicinity 24/7. 

“Do not show your claws to me like that, kitten,” he mutters curtly. “It was not I who was hellbent on locating the Aether core.”

Your glare gives way to confusion when he stands, tugging you along for the ride.

“Hey—where are we going?”

You huff and try to keep up with him, your right hand dangling limply in front of you as you struggle to match his longer strides.

Sylus doesn’t reply, his gaze locked in the front, mind a million miles away.

You don’t open your mouth again, not sure what to expect when he leads you right into his office. There, on his desk, is a stack of papers, and you have no choice but to hover beside him as he takes out what looks like a declaration form.

Squinting, you try to make out the words, but from your vantage point that’s blocked by the back of his head leaning absurdly close to the document, you can hardly tell what he’s scribbling.

“As it is, the N109 Zone is already a dangerous place for its civilians and made even worse for a Linkon citizen to be caught here.” He stands, tucking the paper into his coat pocket. The sudden movement inadvertently tugs you forward so your chest brushes against his sternum. Locks of frosty white hair fall into his face, tips brushing the highest points of his cheekbones.

You tear your eyes away, clearing your throat. “And?”

You wait for him to continue. Sylus doesn’t.

Instead, he heaves in a deep breath, and you raise your head, thrown off guard by the sheen of pain in his eyes. They waver upon you with such a lonesome, tragic veneer you think he’s about to announce his departure from this world.

Not—

“In order to keep you and my interests safe, we have to concoct a plausible story for everyone to believe. Having you constantly around me is not only a liability, but people will start to conspire.” He exhales a deep sigh. “Which is why I have drafted a document to bind us together in marriage for the remainder of your... unfortunate stay here in the N109 Zone.”

His words trickle with condescension, though you’re completely hung up on the singular one which makes you pause and double back.

“What?” You’re all but shrieking. “Sylus, are you saying you’re going to make me marry you?”

He winces slightly at the sharpness of your trill. Sighing, he brushes an invisible piece of lint from his shoulder, looking unimpressed.

“What I am saying, little hunter,” his lips curl into a sardonic smirk. “Is that until we figure out how to overcome this minor inconvenience together—” Sylus lifts his left hand, purposely dangling your right hand in his face much to your squawk of dismay that barely fazes him. “We have to prove our marriage is believable. Or else, you and I will suffer the consequences.”

He mutters those words with such finality, it’s hard not to envision guns hidden right in the shadows, their barrels trained right on your susceptible foreheads.

You shiver and don’t speak for a moment. Sylus drops his hand, stepping back until the invisible shackle can’t allow anymore give, gracefully providing you some personal space to work through this grave solution.

“Say I agree—”

“There is no room for objection,” he interjects firmly. “We have no other choice, kitten.”

Your mouth thins, a line of discomposure that he doesn’t miss. It’s not that you don’t agree with his idea, it’s just the execution would possibly squeeze all the sanity out of you.

You don’t know Sylus. You can’t trust yourself to handle such a dangerous man. Perhaps, death would be a kinder alternative than navigating such baffling terrains with a man who for all intents and purposes, has just tried to blow you up a few hours ago. 

He sighs, as if reading your mind. “Such an arrangement is unconventional. But, in order to make this work, we would need a few ground rules here.” 

Sylus starts before you can interrupt him.

“We will have a safeword to signal when either of us—most likely you—is in danger. I vouch for ‘bullet’.”

Despite the horrors of this situation, you manage a snort. “I can’t take that word seriously—knowing you, a gun will always be in the picture.”

His expression twists with something akin to humor. Sylus arranges it back into neutral waters, gazing at you with a look of veiled curiosity. “Alright then, you smart little cookie. What would you suggest?”

You tap on the tip of your nose to think, going back and forth until you settle on something innocuous yet also obvious.

“‘Guts’,” you finally murmur. He raises a brow. 

“So, ‘bullets’ is out of the question, but somehow, ‘guts’ make perfect sense? Are you desperately pinning all your hopes on me to never mutilate a body?”

The mental image of Sylus covered in gore up to his arms while you’re still cuffed helplessly next to him, makes you shiver.

“Then, have you ever considered not mutilating someone while I’m shackled to you?” 

He pauses for a moment longer than necessary. “Fine,” the white-haired devil finally agrees. “You're dreadfully boring, kitten. But, I concede. No mutilating people while we're shackled together. Next.” Sylus clears his throat, and makes to cross his arms, but that just draws you closer to him, your feet stumbling forward.

Frowning, he drops them, tilting his head back with a godawful deep sigh.

“Bed,” he says past gritted teeth. “And bathroom requirements. I would personally prefer for us not to be within an arms’ reach while we’re doing our business.”

The mental image of him hunched over the toilet bowl, face all scrunched up as he’s suffering from morning bowel movements while you’re there, uncomfortably in the background, makes it impossible to stifle a giggle. 

“Oh, so you think that is funny?” He arches his brow again. “What if you had an emergency, hmm? Would you still be this mirthful if you knew that I know what your… excretions… sound like?”

The fact that a foreboding, tall and dangerous man like Sylus Qin has just uttered the word ‘excretions’ in a sentence makes it impossible for you to contain your laughter. You double over, wiping tears from your eyes; he probably thinks you’ve already lost it.

Sylus pinches the bridge of his nose, clearly repressing the trauma such a mental image branded into him, and forces himself to move on. 

“When we pretend to be husband and wife, our proximity would make sense. We could go into bathrooms together—sleep together. No one will know the—”

“Wait,” your composure returns after being doused with that shocking cold news. “A-are you saying we have to sleep on the same bed?” 

Sylus looks at you like you're a toddler who was asked to stop chewing dirt. “Unless you have a cheap parlour trick to physically regenerate your hand after chopping it off, then, yes,” he answers curtly. “We have to share a bed—isn't it wonderful?"

The bathroom is one thing—such gross indecencies barely phase you after months of being forced to sleep in a cramped dorm room with over 20 other female Hunter trainees. It’s the idea of your bed—your oasis—being tainted by his presence that pushes your nerves into overdrive.

You can hardly trust a knife to him without imagining it stuck somewhere in someone’s ribs, much less your vulnerable state while you were asleep.

The energy chain hums between you two, seeming to pick up on your despair.

Sylus purses his lips. “Look, kitten. I myself am hardly a fan of this arrangement. However, certain measures need to be taken to make things easy and as pain-free as possible for the both of us. We have to accept that we’re no longer individuals, but a team.” 

He steamrolls past your protests, shushing you with his next words. “An unconventional team of four feet, four limbs, two brains. Four eyes. We are not two people—but one. The sooner you accept it, sweetie, the faster we can resolve this problem. Do you understand me?”

There’s nothing else you can add or subtract without taking away the shittiness of this situation—you’re locked in with him, for better or for worse.

“Okay,” you muster enough courage to mutter. “Four feet, four limbs, two brains, four eyes. Got it.”

Sylus gives a nod, moving briskly into business.

“The first thing we shall do is this—” 

He removes the earlier document from his coat pocket, smoothing it out onto the large blackwood desk so you can read it. “These are the terms and conditions of a standard N109 Zone wedding. Unlike the tedious traditions of Linkon, there are no witnesses needed here. No tea ceremony, either. In fact, as proof of how easy it is, we can commence to be wedded right here and now. All you need to do is sign here and here, and we’re done.”

Sylus has already scrawled his signature under the agreement, and right underneath it, an empty dotted line yawns, waiting for your consent.

A pen materializes right by your hand. The dark mist of his Evol is cold when it brushes against your skin, retreating after procuring your one-way ticket to hell.

You pick it up, pulling back on the energy bond so you can use your dominant hand to sign this damning agreement. 

One loop. A scratch.

And it’s done.

It's a mockery of your wildest imagination. 

You're now a married woman, and next to you, looking forlorn and cross, is your brand new husband.

— reblogs and feedback is appreciated <33 i appreciate all ur support <3

©️ all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost, take elements of my story and claim it as yours. i strictly do not allow translations of my works across other platforms.

[allllium]

Comfort

~ Some Sappy Jason Todd x Reader

~ Playing with Jason's Hair

~ Fluff, a little overthinking, WC: 981

- You play with Jason's Hair -

You are usually very good at understanding things about your boyfriend, Jason. It took you no time at all to find about his nightly activities and everything about his family. But on the other hand, you can't seem to understand him at all.

You've tried not to ask him about certain things because based on hints from his family, he's had some bad shit happen in his life.

However, the more questions you don't ask, the more that seem to pop up.

You haven't asked him why sometimes he flinches away when you touch him but other times he leans in.

You haven't asked him why his hands make fists when you're trying to sleep at night.

You haven't asked him about the scar along his chest or his aversion to certain foods.

All because you're too scared to make him uncomfortable, or maybe because you don't know if you could stomach it.

You're laying bed and waiting for him to come out of the bathroom. Somehow, you take less time getting ready for bed than he does. You suspect it's because he needs a couple minutes to process everything that happened during the day.

As usual you have a million thoughts running through you're head all at the same time. 99% of them are about him.

When he finally comes into your shared bedroom and gets comfortable in bed, you're debating whether or not to talk to him about some of the things you can't get out of your mind.

You decide against it. The last thing you want to do is make him uncomfortable or bring up any bad memories that might affect his ability to sleep through the night.

He can obviously sense your unease, you don't hide it very well.

"What's wrong?" His raspy voice cuts through your thoughts.

"Nothing, sweetheart." You try to play it off.

"Uh huh." He says blankly.

"I'm just thinking about things, is that a crime?"

"Depends on what they are." He pulls you closer to him and wraps his arms around you.

"Nothing bad."

"Hmm."

"What?"

"If someone's bothering you, you should tell me."

"Why is that?"

"Well I have an ability of getting rid of people."

"Oh my God Jason you can't joke about that." You look at him in amused shock.

"Who says it's a joke?" He asks, face completely serious.

"Okay no killing people on my behalf." You chuckle and he copies. "I'm just trying to figure you out more."

"Why?"

"Cuz I want to know more about you?"

"Like what"

"Right now I want to know what you want." You pull away from him in order to sit up a little bit.

"I don't want anything at the moment."

"Yes you do. If you didn't want anything your fists wouldn't be clenched and your eyes wouldn't have that look. Like you want to say something but can't."

"You really want to know?" He asks.

"Yeah I really do." You immediately reply.

"A couple months ago while we were watching a movie on the couch, you played with my hair and it was very comforting. And the best sleep I've ever had."

"That's it? I've been driving myself crazy trying to think of explanations and you're telling me you just want me to play with your hair." You question him in disbelief. It's been months of overthinking thoughts and random mind rampages for something you haven't even noticed you were doing.

"I didn't know how to say it." He shrugs, not looking into your eyes. "It sounds childish."

"No it doesn't. Everyone has different ideas of perfect comfort and I happen to agree with yours. Jason, if you want something from me all you have to do is ask."

You lean over to give him a quick, sweet kiss.

"I'm not used to that."

"Well you better get started."

"Fine, would you play with hair so I can go to sleep, Angel?"

"Only because you asked so nicely."

It takes a second for you both to get rearranged so it's comfortable. You're now laying on your back with Jason half on his side, half on top of you with his head on your chest.

It's almost amusing how quickly he falls asleep but above all else you feel a sense of pride at the fact that you're the one giving him this feeling.

He said this was comforting. He said this was the best sleep he's ever had.

And you're the reason he's having these things.

You stay up longer than you probably should have. This time the thoughts running through your head aren't worrying or overwhelming.

They make you happy. Happy enough to fall into a very sound sleep.

You wake up to coffee on your nightstand and a missing Jason.

"Jason." You call out and he quickly comes running.

When he walks in the room, you immediately begin questioning him.

"What is this?" You ask with an ounce of suspicion. You're worried it's a repayment of some sort.

"It's coffee. A hot caffeinated drink."

"Why?"

"Because you like it and it makes you irritable for far less time in the morning."

"Jason you don't have to do things for me just because I did something for you."

"Yes I do. Because words won't let me explain how grateful I am for you."

"Since when are you so sappy?"

He sits on the bed next to you.

"Don't be mean to me right now, I'll take it away."

"Fine. Continue your speech."

"I know it's a small thing for you but I haven't felt comfort like you give me in a very long time. Maybe even ever. And I need you to know that."

"I can't tell you how happy I am to give that to you."

The next thing you know, you both have giant grins on your faces and you're both happier than ever before.

[jobean12-blog]

Punishment

Pairing: General Marcus Acacius x female reader

Word Count: 1.4K

Summary: You disobey the General's orders and he doesn't like it, not one bit.

Author's Note: My lovely friend @tripletstephaniescp sent my an insta reel that helped to inspire this! The General was pissed that you didn't do as he asked hehe so I figured we should be punished in the best way possible! Thank you so much my love! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy, you rock! 🥰

Warnings: he's always soft and sweet under it all, today he's pissed and dominant also, bondage, oral (f and m rec), smut

Marcus Acacius Masterlist

You’re already back in your shared bedroom when he finds you, his broad shoulders filling out the space in the doorway and his face shadowed in the low lighting.

You pause before turning to face him, your lips parting to speak but quickly clamping shut when you see the look on his face.

His expression is tight, jaw clenched, and he closes his eyes to let out a deep exhale.

“You blatantly ignored my command.”

You start to interrupt but he steps inside the room and shuts the door, moving forward and holding a hand up to stop you.

“I told you not to come. I told you it would be dangerous.”

Even with his angry tone his eyes are pleading, watery with unshed emotion.

You go to speak again but promptly shut your mouth when he shakes his head and sighs. Silence fills the room for a long, painful minute.

With tentative steps you close the distance between you. Your hands slide up his chest and over his shoulders to wrap around his neck.

You press a soft kiss to his frowning mouth.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper with another kiss. “It’s just…”

You search for the right words, for a way to explain away his worry, but instead press more kisses to his cheeks and down his neck.

The kisses are short and soft, and he only gives you a teasing brush of his tongue. His hands slide down the curve of your spine and he pulls you closer.

One hand glides up to grip the back of your neck and he gives you exactly what you want: the deep, demanding kisses of a man who’s about to make you pay for your disobedience.

His cock presses into your stomach and it’s a presence you can’t ignore. Kissing down his neck you start to undo the garment at his shoulders, making your way lower until your nails are running down the thick muscles of his thighs.

You lift the leather panels of his skirt and slowly free him from the confines of his undergarment. His eyes are steady with heavy lids as he watches you draw your tongue up his length from base to tip.

“My love,” he growls, tensing when you take the entirety of him in your mouth.

With gritted teeth he reaches down and wraps his large hand around your wrist, dragging you up his body until he can look you directly in the eyes.

The moment feels like whiplash, the warmth and shape of him still coating your tongue.

His expression turns dark, and you feel unsteady on your feet. Without words he urges you back toward the bed, slowly pulling the wrapped cloth from your body. His hands slide over your curves, fingers spread wide and digging into your skin as he rids you of the last piece of clothing.

You push up into his touch and he murmurs sweet praise against your skin. His voice warms your blood, and he watches your every move. Watches your lips part with your increasingly heavy breaths, watches your eyelashes brush your cheeks with every sweep of his fingertips.

He sits up and stares at you while he slowly unwraps the linen at his throat. It’s still slightly sweaty and muddled with dust and he’s still wearing most of his armor, only now removing his belt and leather skirt.

You let out a whimper when he gathers your wrists in his large hand and ever so carefully binds them together, positioning them up and away from your body.

The way he looks at you…

You feel like the queen you are.

He presses his hand to your chest, each finger splayed so that you register just how big his hands are. You shiver, the anticipation snaking down your spine with each passing second.

“You’ll never disobey me again,” he grits out.

It’s not a question. It’s a statement. A fact. One you answer with a vigorous nod and wide eyes.

“You want me just a little rough?” he asks, his harsh swallow straining the muscles of his neck. “Or do you want me wild for you?”

You squirm beneath him, unintentionally tightening the binds at your wrist.

“Wild.”

He exhales, his nostrils flared, and teeth gritted.

With practiced ease he removes the rest of his armor, watching your face, your breasts, gauging your reaction as he undresses.

He leans over you, reverently brushing his palms along your skin, his eyes softening with the silent question.

You give him a reassuring nod and he lowers his mouth, kissing and sucking on his way down between your legs.

With a moan, his tongue tastes you and you’re already shaking. Just the whispered press of his mouth, his warm breath and the roughness of his beard has you teetering on the edge.

You can’t grip the sheets, you can’t touch him, and you give into it, letting go, begging for more and more. Your back curls as you cry out and do everything you can to get closer. He presses his hands to the inside of your thighs and spreads you wider, drawing out every last drop of pleasure until you’re begging him to let you breathe.

His murmured praises go unnoticed until he slides up your body and whispers against the shell of your ear.

“Do you want me to fuck you now?”

Letting out a shaky breath you somehow manage, “yes, please, General. Now.”

He grunts out a curse at the use of his title and you’re gasping, trying to focus on one thing, but it’s impossible. He’s gorgeous, his chest and shoulders broad, every muscle tense and his golden skin slick with sweat.

His kisses are soft when he trails his lips over your breasts, gently pulling your nipple between his teeth and then soothing it with his tongue. He takes his time, and you’ve never felt so desperate.

You’re bound and he’s so big, he could do anything he wants but he’s so focused and gentle right now and laced into every kiss is something so deep it makes your chest ache.

“Please,” you whisper.

He steadies you with a hand on your hip, holding his cock with other, and whispering sweet things softly against your ear.

Slowly he starts to push inside, and it takes forever to fully feel the length of him. You pull at the binds on your wrist, the effort pointless, but the need to touch him overwhelming.

He pushes so deep and groans, rocking his hips just the slightest bit.

“Shhh, my love,” he whispers into your skin. “Don’t make any sounds.”

You whimper and he stills, nipping at your pulse point before he says, “your little sounds will make me come before I’m ready.”

You have to bite your lip to stay quiet, and he praises your effort with a kiss. He angles your hips higher and then starts a fast, relentless rhythm.

His eyes are on your face, his expression so intense, obsessed, tender, and adoring, that you can’t look away.

You try to remain quiet but your orgasm rushes down your spine and through every nerve ending in your body, your cries slipping past parted lips as you pull against the binding.

Marcus growls, thrusting into you hard and fast before he comes so forcefully you feel him pulse low in your belly.

He slows then stills, taking you in his arms and grunting into your neck with every quiet exhale.

His mouth moves over your shoulder, and he begins to slowly massage your thighs, lifting you carefully to reach behind you and loosen the cloth at your wrists.

He collects you against his chest, wrapping you up in him like a gift, running a gentle calloused fingertip along every groove the cloth left behind in your skin.

The skin on his hands is rough but his touch is tender when he takes your chin between his fingers and brings your face to his.

“I need to hear that you’re okay,” he rasps. “I didn’t hurt you?”

“I’m okay.”

He kisses you neck, your cheek, the corner of your mouth and finally, your lips.

“I love you,” he whispers, his eyes closing as he pulls you closer and holds you tighter.