#I don’t get why they made it more confusing and difficult

[gumjrop]

In August, Pennsylvania announced that it would join several countries and 11 other states in the U.S. to allow residents to change their legal gender marker to X, instead of choosing between M and F. Today, more than 7,000 people in the U.S. alone currently have gender X markers on official identification, though not all states allow the marker on all legal forms.

As groups of intersex, trans, and non-binary people continue the fight for an official third gender option in all states and regions, the experiences of those who have been able to change their gender markers to X differ. While some say the change has been massively affirming, others point out that discrepancy between different forms can complicate things. And still others have been surprised by how little they’ve had to think about it since—which may just be the best part.

To better understand what it’s like to actually live with an X gender marker, we asked seven non-binary people who’ve made the change what it’s been like for them.

Jack(ie) Colquitt, 22

[When I changed my gender marker], I was finally able to openly proclaim how I see myself and how I want the world to see me, and this marked the beginning of those perspectives being synonymous. I felt validated in such a specific and monumental way, and [it] made me feel free!

It was less difficult [to change] than liberating, but the slight difficulty did come with worrying how people would react. The world is still getting used to the singular “they” and to gender-neutral identities. But that’s what made it more-so liberating, being able to be a part of a nationwide spotlight being shone on GNC people was euphoric! It’s a small victory; it was beneficial in that it simply made me feel seen, and that’s all that really mattered.

Sometimes [people understand what it means], and sometimes they don’t. It depends on the people, and it’s sometimes easy and sometimes tedious to explain. But it is always worth the effort. Whoever is out there reading this and thinking about whether or not they should make this decision: if you do it for you, and no one else, it will be one of the best decisions you can make.

AC Dumlao, 28

I changed my NYC birth certificate gender marker to X in February 2019. It affirms my identity as non-binary. It was not difficult to change. The self-attestation form is very straightforward and does not require a doctor/therapist note. I simply affirmed that I am non-binary and signed my name to it, and had a notary sign off on it. I do want to note that there is a financial barrier as well as the barrier of finding a notary that one feels comfortable with. I rarely show my birth certificate, so the change was more personal to affirm myself and because it’s something I could do. I think it will be more significant when New York State Drivers Licenses allow the X gender marker.

Chanlar Rose, 22

I identify as non-binary. I actually changed my gender marker very recently, within the past few weeks. This change was something that I had thought about for awhile. In some ways, I felt that it would give me more validation and autonomy when I navigate through spaces in my city. I’ve found that some people are really confused by it, and often in conversations regarding gender markers, I find that people bring up wanting to know what I, or others that identify like I do, were assigned at birth. That can be pretty frustrating and you can tell that some people don’t understand how or why that could be intrusive (because essentially they just wanna know what’s in your pants). Most of the time people just act like I’m a woman anyway, unless I’m in spaces where people are more inclusive. I’m really happy that I changed my gender marker, because it was mostly about me being authentic and honest with myself and the world.

Aidan Hill, 26

I began the process on January 1, 2018. It’s important to me to live authentically with the rights and opportunities provided to everyone under this constitution. Since 2017, coming out as trans/non-binary was a pinnacle of my life, leading me to run for Berkeley City Council for the November 2018 election, desiring to become the U.S.’s first legally non-binary public office holder, pushing for the gender marker X through the legal system. Since then, I have recognized the much-needed importance and haste for a third gender marker at the federal level, noting the president’s rapid anti-trans and anti-womxn legislation, as well as protecting trans women from being sent to men’s jails.

It has meant the world to me. I feel like the state sees my human complexity rather than just a barcode…like I can be seen as a third gender rather than asked to fill a binary because of what is in my pants. I’ve suffered much less overt discrimination since the gender marker X has made it into the national press.

I live in a progressive city, Berkeley, [California], so gender is normally seen as a social construct rather than being fixed or held indefinitely. Likewise, gender-neutral legislation is not as controversial here as in many other states and cities.

Most importantly, the gender marker X saves lives.

Charlie Arrowood, 32

I was born in NYC but reside in New York state, so I’ve only been able to change my birth certificate. New York City issues its own birth certificates separate from the state and the state doesn’t allow for X gender markers on any state-issued documents yet (a group of advocates is working on that). My birth certificate was one of the last documents I changed because—and I think a lot of trans people feel this way—it felt like the most “official” record. I was reluctant to change it until an X was available, because I didn’t want a birth record that told the world I was male. If I couldn’t have an X on my birth certificate, I was more comfortable having an F than an M, even if that was not the case for a more frequently-used document like a driver’s license. (When I had an F on my driver’s license, I was often hassled, so I changed it to an M for convenience, though I will change it to an X as soon as that becomes available.) I have a very binary, gender-conforming appearance; it was important to me to retain some vestige or documentary proof that I was not cisgender, but it was more important to me to have an accurate document that showed that I was not male or female. I didn’t want the world making assumptions about me based on my gender marker, whether physical, social, or otherwise. The privacy arguments around binary trans people’s documents apply to non-binary people as well—I want to change my documents to maintain privacy about my sex-assigned-at-birth and what my body may or may not look like.

Because I don’t use my birth certificate often, it hasn’t had a big everyday impact on my life, but it does make me more comfortable when I do have to pull my birth certificate out for some reason. I am especially looking forward to updating my NYS driver’s license when I can. Even though it says M, and that helps me avoid confrontation, the same way being misgendered verbally makes me cringe, I cringe every time I have to show an incorrect ID to someone because it is conveying incorrect information about me. The differing state and city policies also mean none of my documents match, so any time I need to show mismatched documents, there is a risk that one or the other will not be accepted.

Nobody I’ve shown my birth certificate to has asked any questions, but I think that’s because my gender marker hasn’t been relevant under the circumstances. I suspect there might be some questions if I used it to, say, obtain a driver’s license for the first time, and I suspect once I change my license, which I use frequently, it may come up more.

Jay Wu, 25

[Changing my gender marker] meant I wasn’t walking around with an inaccurate ID anymore, which was a relief, and it also felt validating to know that a government agency was aware of non-binary gender identities. It was very similar to the regular process of getting a new driver’s license. I just had to fill out a straightforward additional form.

Having an “X” gender marker has helped me realize that most people don’t look at the gender marker when they’re checking ID. For the first couple of months, I expected to get questions from people checking my ID, but I haven’t gotten any. I went through airport security dozens of times last year and didn’t have the gender marker questioned once. So I’m not sure whether people understand what it means. (My friends were, of course, very excited when I showed them my changed ID soon after I got it!)

Noah, 22

My pronouns are they/them in English. Since my native language doesn’t have an equivalent to singular-they, I use the pronoun “N” or “en” in German. I changed my gender marker this August, but not to X, exactly, because the German third gender marker is called “divers” (engl. diverse). So that’s what my birth certificate says now. Only the gender marker on my passport will be X, due to international air travel regulations.

Having my gender legally recognized is something that I wanted ever since it became clear that there would be a positive third gender option available—as opposed to just removing the gender marker. The other big reason is that I was able to change my name along with it, without having to pay more than a small fee. It wasn’t possible to have a positive third gender marker in official documents up to the beginning of 2019. The law is geared towards intersex folks, but the phrasing is vague enough to allow non-intersex folks to change their gender markers, too. I had to obtain a doctor’s letter stating that I have a “Variante der Geschlechtsentwicklung” (variant of sex development). The law has been heavily criticized by the German trans and intersex community for the pathologizing nature of requiring people to provide a doctor’s letter. It took me a while to find a doctor willing to write that letter, but after that, I had a very positive experience. The clerk at the registry office almost changed my marker to male, though! I think people are still not that used to the idea of there being more than two genders, even though the legal recognition is here now.

I’ve benefited greatly from being able to change my name everywhere, but many institutions haven’t adjusted their systems yet. My bank and phone provider address me as “Mr” now, because they haven’t incorporated non-binary options.

The primary ID used in Germany doesn’t include gender markers. They’re only on passports and birth certificates. The only reaction I’ve gotten so far was from the lady who ordered my new ID and driver’s license for me. She called the gender marker “the transsexual gender,” which I found odd. German media coverage of the new gender marker has almost exclusively mentioned intersex people, so I would have assumed that to be what people first think of when they see it.

Ettachfini, Leila. “7 Non-Binary People on What It’s like to Have an ‘X’ Gender Marker.” VICE, 4 Sept. 2019, https://www.vice.com/en/article/what-its-like-to-have-gender-marker-x-non-binary/.

[angelnumber27]

The math they teach children now makes very little sense and it is so over complicated

[silvery-stars]

would it be sacrilege of me to say that i am kinda hashtag Underwhelmed by the percy jackson show

[qqueenofhades]

https://www.tumblr.com/qqueenofhades/743255237060689920/the-thing-that-confuses-me-about-the-dont-vote

The “don’t vote” left’s point is basically that, if Biden gets a second term, it’ll basically signal that “They’ll vote for us as long as we’re not Republicans, why don’t we do some REAL fucked up shit, if we can get away with it?” It takes the power out of the people’s hands and places it firmly in the party’s.

I can’t completely disagree with that, my caveat is that there’s no real alternative system or party in place, because top-down change is ineffective; a third party president has to contend with a two party congress.

Except no. This whole "Biden just wants to do as much fucked up shit as possible while not being a Republican, and if you give him a second term he'll do more fucked up shit deliberately to spite you" mindset is only possible as an interpretation if you a) deliberately and comprehensively ignore everything he has done to date, and b) you approach the situation with the maximum bad faith possible. Not to mention, the ultimate outcome of this Big Important Teaching Biden A Lesson is that Trump gets back into power and makes everything orders of magnitude worse, because he does in fact want to deliberately do evil shit to everyone and says so at every opportunity. There is not some magical happy alternative that springs into existence by not voting. If you choose this as a year to Teach Biden A Lesson, you are enabling Trump. Trump will be much, much worse. If you don't care about that, I still do not care what your Great Ideology is. You are not helping anyone and you are directly and irreversibly hurting everyone.

I made a post a few days ago wherein I mentioned that I want to assess Biden fairly, taking into account both strengths and weaknesses, but the rampant bad-faith, lying, misreading, misrepresentation, and open sabotage of him (especially by the online left; the GOP sometimes only wishes they were as good at turning Biden's voter pool against him) makes it really difficult to do that. My frustration with those people makes me just want to go "BIDEN IS GREAT THE END." I know he is a flawed old man (though by literally every account of a career spent in public service, he really does care about making the world a better place and any remotely good faith reading of his accomplishments thus far can see that). It is also very likely that he goes MORE left in a second term because he won't have to face the electorate again, he has always gone more left when pushed before, and he's not actually the scheming genocidal mastermind that leftist social media paints him as. Shocking, I know.

I know there are things in the world we don't like and don't want and want to stop, and therefore we blame our own president for not making it stop. But I have zero, no, none, absolutely none whatsoever sympathy for this pseudo-populist "WE NEED TO TEACH BIDEN A LESSON BY ELECTING TRUMP AGAIN, I AM VERY MORAL MUCH ACTIVIST" mindset. There's this funny thing about America wherein it is still (for now) a democracy. If Biden wins a second term, he can't run again. I would take literally anything these people said more seriously if they focused on developing their dream progressive successor for 2028 (and also figured out how to get that person elected and in a place to make real change) rather than cynically sabotaging Biden in the most consequential election year, again, of our lifetimes. If you don't like him now, find a way to make his successor a better option. Throwing a toddler tantrum and handing the country back to a senile, deranged, fascist, revenge-riddled, theocratic Trump HELPS. NOBODY. I still don't know how many times I'm going to have to say that, but yeah.

[thehmn]

I wanted to make this post because we don’t see a lot of asexual characters in western media and despite him being from a hugely popular show (Seaside Hotel) you’re unlikely to know of his existence if you’re not from Denmark.

His name is Hjalmar Aurland and he’s one of the more sympathetic and realistic asexual characters I’ve seen. He lives in a time and place where asexuality as a concept doesn’t exist yet so he’s never labeled as such but rewatching the show made me realize that he acts exactly like the asexual people I personally know. Asexuality can mean a lot of things but his specific brand isn’t naive to sex nor is he repulsed by sex, sexual desire or thoughts simply doesn’t come naturally to him.

He can be convinced to have sex with his wife Helene but only if she appeals to their emotional bond. Just so you don’t get the wrong idea, he’s not being forced or emotionally blackmailed to sleep with her. It’s simply that he understands sex is a way to show emotional love too and he wants to express that love for Helene when it’s important to her, and seeing as sex isn’t unpleasant to him, just kinda boring, he’s willing to do that for her.

Unfortunately that isn’t enough for Helene and despite her love for Hjalmar she starts an affair with the dramatic and emotional actor Edward Weyse. He has a string of relationships, marriages and divorces behind him because despite what it may look like from the outside Edward doesn’t really want shallow sexual relationships. He just can’t help himself and keep falling in love with women left and right, fully and wholeheartedly, only to be dumped or dump them once the initial excitement has passed.

So Helene and Edward’s affair that was only meant to satisfy their carnal desires quickly becomes romantic. Helene feels torn between him and Hjalmar who she still loves and Edward understands the difficult situation they’re both in while also feeling jealous of Hjalmar. And Hjalmar? He doesn’t catch on for years. He’s not stupid but his brain just doesn’t jump to sex. He just assumes they’re good friends and why shouldn’t his wife be allowed to have friends, even male ones? Things get really complicated when Helene gets pregnant and she has to have sex with Hjalmar so he won’t wonder how it happened. Edward even has to join in on the seduction, reminding Hjalmar how much Helene loves him, even though it breaks Edward’s heart to do so.

But like I’ve said Hjalmar isn’t stupid. He saw the signs but chose to ignore them until one night when Helene accidentally says Edward’s name. It breaks the dam in Hjalmar’s denial and he has to face that deep down he always knew. Overcome by sadness and betrayal he wanders off into the night in nothing but his nightgown and gets a room at a different hotel where he can think in peace. Eventually he agrees to return to the first hotel with Helene and Edward and decides to take control of the situation.

He sits them both down and tells them that he understands that the three of them share a bond and that there are things he can’t really do for Helene so from now on he wants their relationship to be open and honest. He wants Helene and Edward to keep seeing each other and Edward is welcome in their house, but Hjalmar wants to be allowed to call Edward by his first name and makes it very clear that Helene and Edward’s children “belong to him” because he still thinks of himself as their dad and loves them as his own children. Both Helene and Edward agrees to it, though the emotional Edward is very flustered and confused by the acceptance and love he’s being shown by Hjalmar.

This is obviously a very tv drama situation but I was so stuck by how much Hjalmar acts like my asexual friends. Having a lover for your partner isn’t the most common solution but it’s an idea I’ve heard a lot of asexual people be open to under the right circumstances and of course that’s the most dramatic solution for a romantic tv drama.

Hjalmar is defined by so much more than his sexuality though. His main characteristic is his passion for social justice and equality, and other than some early show weirdness before they really cemented the characters, Hjamler is the only character who floats freely between the men and women. He’s just as likely to sit with the men as he is the women, often appearing in otherwise entirely female spaces. It’s never questioned or even brought up, not because he’s a “safe asexual” but because he cares and think their worries are as important as the men’s. He’s often called a pessimist by the other men when in reality he is determined to be hopeful and compassionate and spread the love he feels the world is lacking as WWII draws closer.

So yeah, I just wanted to share this sweet ace guy with you because you probably wouldn’t have known about him otherwise.

[sttoru]

‘no matter how much time the king of curses spends with you, he doesn’t think he will ever understand you or your affectionate behaviour towards him.’

☀︎｜tags. true form sukuna x female reader. heian era sukuna. fluff. bits of mentions of blood & murder. big size difference. cold-big-monster-having-a-small-soft-spot-for-a-single-human trope. reader gets called ‘little one, brat’. not proof read! let me know if you like my characterisation or not; it’s my first sukuna fic.

a kiss on the cheek is one of the most innocent - yet apparently also the most difficult - things to do. it’s a small form of intimacy; not that hard to do. it’s really as simple as planting your lips on your beloved’s cheek. then all you do is retreat — maybe get a kiss on the cheek back from him. or on the lips.

“get moving. i’m not waiting all day for you.” sukuna grumbles. you had suddenly stopped in your tracks and the king of curses was confused as to what the reason might have been. the two of you had been walking through the courtyard for a few minutes now — well, you basically had to drag him out to take a little stroll together.

and now the same you was quiet. it bothered sukuna; you were always so chatty around him when it was just the two of you. he might have called you an ‘annoying brat’ for it, but he secretly enjoyed your company and voice.

“c-coming.” you reply in a quiet mumble, eyes glancing over at the monstrous frame that stood a few steps away. his dull yet sharp gaze was focused on you — like he was sizing you up. or rather: trying to figure out what’s wrong with the change in behaviour you showed.

sukuna watches you as you hurry over to his side again. he resumes walking, hands folded over each other under the material of his kimono.

though, he couldn’t yet let go of the fact that you were acting different around him. the king of curses’ suspicion only grew once he noticed how your fingers fiddled with your obi. you were anxious about something.

sukuna shakes his head slightly. some humans sure are difficult to understand, he thinks to himself. your happy yet reserved personality when you usually interacted with him had disappeared and made place for a nervous wreck. trying to figure out why made sukuna’s head hurt.

were you finally scared of him? like all other humans and curses were?

he doesn’t know why, but it felt like he would hate for such thing to happen. sukuna usually wouldn’t care if someone resents, fears or somehow even admires him. only you could make him think and care about such difficult and maybe even trivial things.

“uhm,” you break off his train of thoughts and his eyes are instantly on yours again, “may i do something really quickly?”

sukuna’s face doesn’t show any change in expression, but a small nod tells you everything you need to know. you clear your throat, “can you please lower your head towards me?”

lowering his head? oh, you got some guts. if anyone else had said that to him, sukuna would have obliterated them; there wouldn’t have been anything but red bloody dust left of their body.

but then again: it’s you. all exceptions the king of curses makes are for you.

sukuna slightly lowers his head to your level so you could do whatever you needed to. he’d be lying if he said that his curiosity wasn’t piqued. it always was when he was around you.

you gulp. it was time to do what you’ve longed to do ever since the beginning of your stroll: give the ryomen sukuna a kiss on the cheek. you don’t think he’d be mad—at least he never seriously gets mad at you. only to get a reaction out of you since your responses are always ‘intensely amusing’—as he says.

“go on.” sukuna’s breath hits your cheeks. he was so close—too close that it made you even more nervous in a way. as if you hadn’t even had your first kiss yet.

you swallow your fears and just go for it. your lips attach to his cheek in the fraction of a second—the speed of light—before they leave. it was right under his right set of eyes.

you take a step back and clear your throat. you try to escape the embarrassment of sukuna’s possible reaction by continuing your stroll, though were stopped by a strong hand firmly grabbing your forearm.

“where’d you think you’re going?”

sukuna’s deep voice echoes through your ears. you were surprised to hear the tone of it; almost soft. a tone sukuna uses on rare occasions: in your presence.

you turn your head around and smile sheepishly at the king of curses before you. he doesn’t return the same (not that you expected him to), however he does unexpectedly ruffle your hair for a split second. or at least he attempts to.

his large and warm palm lands on top of your head and he gives it a little and subtle shake. sukuna had seen you do a similar action to someone else before, thus he concluded that he could do it to you. maybe as a form of endearment or. . whatever you used it as.

he did find the way you tried to scurry away after giving him a kiss very adorable. even if he wouldn’t say so out loud.

“now, come along. we don’t have all day.” sukuna nonchalantly mutters after retracting his hand. it left as fast as it came, though you were still stunned at the slight show of affection the king of curses returned.

you instantly catch up to sukuna again—walking next to him as fast as your legs could take you. you were a bit more at ease after you got a positive reaction to your little kiss. it was a pity that he didn’t smirk or laugh at you—maybe mocked you like he usually would. but that head pat made up for it.

even if it did leave your hair a little disheveled.

you couldn’t properly see sukuna’s face, but the faint smirk tugging at his lips was undeniably there. even if it was for just a split second.

“how very interesting.” sukuna mutters under his breath so you wouldn’t catch on. he sighs and shakes his head, unable to keep out that memory of you looking so cute—standing on the tip of your toes to plant a kiss on his cheek with your comically small hand on his jaw line. he doesn’t know why he found that to be so thrilling.

you flutter your eyelashes. you were curious about what he might have commented on, “may i ask what you had just said? i didn’t quite hear it.”

a short second of silence hangs before sukuna tilts his head to the right to look down at you again; his face expressionless, but still having a hint of a grin on his lips.

“i said you better hurry before i gobble you up right this instant.” he replies, (playfully) intimidating you with his sharp red eyes that glinted with a form of danger.

you shiver (though knew the threat was an empty one) and instantly pick up your pace. you even get ahead of him, walking as fast as your legs could. you answer with a curt ‘my apologies’ and walk like you actually have somewhere to be.

sukuna’s grin only grows as he sees you get ahead of him. if you had turned around, maybe you could have caught onto that light flicker of affection in his expression.

“i’m coming for you, little one.” sukuna adds just to ignite some more fear into you and you react as expected, “you’re not escaping me today.”

it was a funny sight; your reactions always make him enjoy his time with you even more than he already (secretly) was.

the way his body reacts in mysterious ways when you’re around, is still very much an unsolved riddle to the king of curses. and the reasons as to why you aren’t scared of him and can easily give him all your ‘love’ are also still yet to be discovered.

until then, sukuna will continue to enjoy teasing you.

[pathologicalreid]

wavelength | s.r.

in which your son ends up in the hospital on one of the BAUs busiest nights of the year

margotober masterlist

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst (hurt/comfort) content warnings: child in hospital with unnamed illness, seizures, pregnant!reader, boy dad!spencer, MRIs, head injury word count: 1.96k a/n: this is my little reid family from three's a family, but as usual, you don't have to read that one to understand this one. (it's one of the cryptic pregnancy ones so maybe keep that in mind lmao) - welcome back to the spencer reid dilf agenda, i missed it

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your thumbs enough to press the call button, tapping the green icon, you press your phone to your ear, listening to the rings as you keep your other hand on the bed in front of you.

Sniffling, Leo holds your hand in his much smaller one, “Mama?” His voice is little more than a whine, and you find yourself wishing he’d fall asleep while you wait for his turn in radiology.

“Yeah, lovey?” You whisper, squeezing his fingers gently as he looks at you with sad eyes.

His eyes were sad in a way that only a three-year-old’s could be, not quite understanding why he had to stay in the hospital, and continuously asking for his parents. “I don’t feel good,” he mumbles, his voice soft as he shifts on his side in the hospital bed.

Your shoulders slouch ever so slightly, trying not to show him how much of his displeasure you shared, “I know. I’m so sorry.” They were holding off on giving him more medication, but it just made him miserable.

Starting to wonder if they could just give him something to help him rest, you distantly hear your name being called, taking a moment to be confused before you remember that you called Spencer.

“Hey,” you greet a little breathlessly, “Are you working?” You move your hand, smoothing back Leo’s hair in an attempt to coax him to sleep.

You hear a shuffling of papers on the other end of the call, answering your question well enough before he responds verbally, “We’re just trying to finish a few things up before calling it a night.”

Bowing your head, you sigh, “Right, you have that senate review next week.”

Spencer groans at the reminder of the meeting, “And finding some of these files is proving to be difficult. I think Garcia’s just about had it, but we’re all starting to get to that point. Why the call? Not that I’m unhappy to hear your voice,” he clarifies. “Did Leo get to sleep alright?”

You falter slightly knowing that Spencer is already stressing about work, “Honey,” you start softly, “Leo’s alright, but I had to call an ambulance for him about an hour ago.”

“What happened? You said he’s alright?” He asks, fear changing the pitch of his voice.

Swallowing thickly, you watch Leo continue to fight sleep, his brown eyes watching you while you’re on the phone. “They think he had a seizure,” you whisper, keeping your voice down so that your son doesn’t catch onto your anxiety.

There’s a shuffle of papers on the other end, “Is he sick? Was it a febrile seizure?”

“Uh, no, hold on,” you flip through the pamphlet, “They called it a drop seizure when we were in the emergency room, and they did an EEG.” You explain, reading over the papers in front of you for the nth time.

Spencer talks to someone else in the room, hopefully letting them know that he has to leave, “What happened?”

Tears prick your eyes, and you look up into the fluorescent light to will them away, “I was just getting him ready for bed, and he went to go potty, and he just fell. He hit his head on the tub and I just… I panicked,” you admit the last part. “I was not very collected, and the 911 operator knew that,” you tell him, watching Leo’s eyes finally fall shut.

“I wouldn’t have been either,” Spencer assures you, “What hospital did they bring you to?”

Rattling off the name of the hospital, you risk assuming that Leo’s asleep enough for you to step back, enabling you to speak at a higher volume, “Can you leave work?” You weren’t even thinking about how busy the BAU was when you called, you were just thinking about getting Leo his dad. “They want to do an MRI, and he’s allowed to have someone in there with him, so he doesn’t get scared,” you explain.

“But you can’t,” Spencer needlessly reminds you.

A huff of frustration escapes your lips as you look down, eyes focusing on where your shirt catches on the soft swell of your lower belly. “No, I can’t,” you say miserably.

A nurse walks through the door, sparing a pitying glance at you, the pregnant mom whose toddler was in the PICU, before checking on Leo’s vitals. Spencer clears his throat, “I’m already on my way.”

You lose track of time, sitting in the reclining chair that lives in the corner of the PICU room, and memories of Leo’s first month of life start to flash in front of your eyes. He was a thirty-two-weeker, and he spent twenty-nine days in the NICU before coming home for the first time.

You felt like a failure then, and you feel like a failure now.

Tapping your fingers on your belly, you watch Leo sleep, his body curled up on the hospital bed and collodion stuck to his forehead. You remember finding out you were pregnant again, the overwhelming joy that mixed with the stunned fear like oil and water—Spencer had to remind you to breathe.

Something caught your attention, a small, high-pitched beep from one of Leo’s monitors sent a group of people flying into the room, standing around your son and listing off things that your fear-addled brain couldn’t comprehend.

He’s there when you stand up, Spencer stays at your side for all twenty-one seconds of Leo’s second seizure, watching as strength returns to his tiny body and his eyes open, “Mama?” His small voice calls out for you, afraid of being surrounded by doctors and nurses that he doesn’t know.

Slipping away from Spencer, you make your way back to the hospital bed, hovering over your son as you cup his cheeks affectionately, “I’m here, baby.” Hiding your face to wipe tears away, your fear that he still feels ill is only exacerbated by the fact that he doesn’t insist that he’s not a baby—he’ll always be yours, though.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, you let him see past you, the way his eyes light up at the sight of his father, “Daddy!” He chirps, trying to reach out for Spencer.

“Hey, buddy,” Spencer says, his voice tight while he crouches in front of Leo, “Mama says you don’t feel good.”

Leo shakes his head, “I hit my head,” he recounts mournfully, “then we had to go in the loud car.”

Your husband frowns for a moment before he realizes Leo’s talking about the ambulance, “Did they tell you I get to go with you to get your tests done?” He warps the narrative to make the MRI seem like a fun activity—something they get to do.

“Can mama go?” Leo asks, tilting his head to the side slightly, leaning into you as he does so.

Gently, you wrap an arm around him, dressed in a pediatric hospital gown with all kinds of wires and electrodes attached to him. “Mama has to stay up here,” Spencer breaks the news to him, sparing you a sympathetic glance, “but she’ll be here when we get back. Then, we can tell her and the baby all about it.”

The baby won’t be able to hear outside voices until you’re much further along, but when Spencer tried to explain that to your toddler, the only response he’d gotten was Why?

As it turns out, even Spencer Reid has a limit to the number of questions he can answer, so you let Leo talk to the baby. “I’ll be right here when you get back,” you reassure Leo, taking a shaky breath when he wraps his arms around you.

He’s in tears by the time they come to get him, only willing to go to radiology if they let his daddy carry him there.

You’ve let go of the hope that this was all just a freak incident, but the looks that the nurses have started exchanging squashed that optimism immediately. Taking the opportunity to lie on the hospital bed, you try to reassure yourself—if Spencer didn’t seem worried, you shouldn’t be worried.

Though Spencer wouldn’t show his concern to you, he certainly wouldn’t do it with Leo in the room.

You don’t know when you fell asleep, but you’re woken up by something being set on your side, your eyes cracking open just enough to watch Spencer lay Leo down on the bed next to you. “Hey,” Spencer whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, “I was trying not to wake you up.”

Cringing at the brightness of the room, you watch Leo as he curls into your side, “How did he do?”

“He was great,” Spencer says, gently ruffling the sleeping boy’s hair. “He fell asleep about halfway through,” he informs you, carefully pulling a chair up to the bedside.

You hum, making sure Leo is snug in his blanket before turning back to Spencer, “I’m sorry I didn’t call you sooner.”

Spencer shakes his head dismissively, “It’s okay,” he whispers, mindful of the hour—it’s nearing midnight now.

Reaching a hand up to cover your mouth, you hiccup a sob, “I’m a bad mom.”

“You are not a bad mom,” Spencer responds quickly, peeling your hand from your mouth and taking it in his hand.

Your lower lip quivers, “This wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t been born so early.”

Spencer’s face softens, squeezing your hand comfortingly, “That wasn’t your fault. That was a situation that you didn’t have any control over.”

Deep down, you know he’s right, but your mom guilt that was on the surface level made the truth hard to see. “I couldn’t even hold his hand while he got an MRI,” you cry, small tears falling from your eyes.

“Honey,” Spencer murmurs, carefully wiping the tears from your cheeks, “You’re pregnant. Even more, you’re high risk,” Spencer reminds you as if it’s something you’re soon to forget. “There’s no way I would’ve let you in that room. You can blame that on me if you’d like.”

Leo shifts next to you, garnering your attention for just a moment before you turn back to Spencer, “I thought an MRI was better for pregnant women.”

Sighing, Spencer looks at you fondly, “Compared to a CT, an MRI is the better option if it’s medically necessary. Logically, I’m well aware of this, but I do find myself more protective over you these days,” he admits, eyes flickering down to your bump.

You bite the inside of your cheek, “I should’ve been watching him before he hit his head.”

Your husband dismisses your concern immediately, “We’ve been teaching him privacy, he’s proud that he gets to go potty on his own.”

“Why won’t you let me feel guilty?” You ask, frowning at him.

He hums in response, “Because you aren’t guilty. Your baby is in the hospital, and you might have some unresolved issues from when he was in the NICU.” He takes a deep breath, “and as much as you hate to admit it, you’re tired, and you have a lot of conflicting emotions and hormones that you’re struggling with.”

Leaning your head back on the pillow, you sigh loudly, “You know me too well.”

“I also know that our son loves you, and what happened tonight was not your fault,” he reiterates. “Whatever is going on with him, we’ll figure it out, okay? The four of us are going to be just fine.”

Pressing your lips into a thin line, you nod in understanding and listen to the soft whistle of Leo’s nose as he exhales. “We’ll be just fine,” you echo, intertwining your fingers with Spencer’s and preparing yourself for what’s bound to be a long night.

[ghosts-to-reid]

Blues, Baby.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, Breeding kink, kidnapping, smut

Request: Breeding kink smut pleaseeee (Spencer wanting to get reader pregnant)

Summary: Spencer is angry at you after you made a silly mistake on the field. He comes to you to reconcile, but ends up doing that and more.

It had been a long week.

The case had been difficult, you had been taken by the unsub, and on top of that, you and Spencer had had an argument. You had been together for 4 years, you rarely argued in all that time, but when you did it was brutal. 

The argument happened after he had saved you. It was your fault, admittedly you were too eager to catch this guy, you could say that now. He had taken over 34 girls in the last 20 years, from all over the states. He had been a copycat of Israel Keyes, stashing kill kits in the same, or as close as he could to, locations as him. It was shocking that it hadn’t been caught years ago. It hit you hard, and you were determined to catch this guy. So, you had rushed in without backup, getting yourself caught in the process. Though your capture was short- Which gave way to Spencer’s fury at your actions

“What the HELL were you thinking?” You had just finished up being checked over by the medics, sitting on the back of the ambulance, when Spencer rushed over to you. He is the one who took down the unsub, taking him in before he spoke to you. His reaction caught you off guard, and then made you scowl.

“What are you talking about?” He was standing in front of you now, arms crossed. His eyes  were boring into yours. He huffed out a frustrated chuckle

“What am I talking about? I'm talking about you rushing in there, without backup, and nearly getting yourself killed in the process!” He waved his arms as he spoke, as he usually did when frustrated. Shaking your head, you stood and stepped closer to him, eyes never leaving him.

“I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, Spencer. You know this. What is wrong with you?” You were confused why he was so angry with you, you were the one who had just been kidnapped, he should be holding you and soothing you, not shouting at you in front of your team and the locals. 

“Obviously not when you make stupid decisions like this! Did you even think about the consequences?”

“The consequence if I hadn’t gone in was another dead girl!”

“But you didn’t have to try and replace her! God, I knew I should've gone with you!”

“What, you think you need to babysit me, Spencer?” You scoff, folding your arms “You’re my boyfriend, not my dad.”

“You know what, maybe you do need a babysitter if you’re going to continue making rookie mistakes like this, you know you’re better than this” 

Your eyes had never left each other, staring each other down- Waiting for the other to back down. Bored of this, you rolled your eyes and dropped your arms from your chest. Removing the blanket from your shoulders, you move to walk away when he grabs your arm, tight enough to stop you, but not enough to hurt.

“Where the hell are you going?” His free hand picked up the blanket and he began to drape it over your shoulders once more “You need this for shock. Why won’t you take care of yourself?” It was obvious his anger was rooted in concern, but you didn’t want to confront that right now. Already fuming at his actions, you had no time for his niceties right now.

“Just- Leave me alone. I don’t need you shouting at me right now.” Shaking free from his grasp, you stomped away from him and towards one of the team's SUVs. He shouted something after you, and you heard a loud bang as he hit the ambulance in frustration, but you ignored it.

Since then, the two of you had barely spoken since. Spencer sat with Derek, and you sat with Emily both on opposite sides of the Jet. The team sensed some tension, having witnessed the argument, but no one pressed you. Then, there was a silent car ride back to your shared apartment. You moved into his place 9 months ago now, Spencer had suggested it after your lease had ended, explaining how it was logical to move in together now and save money- he said he wanted to marry you someday and that this was a good start. 

That seemed a silly thought at the minute, though.

The silence continued until dinner. He was in the shower whilst you prepped what you could from your fridge, it was too late to go to the grocery store and you had been away a few days, so it wasn’t much. You were so deep in your own thoughts you didn’t hear the shower stop, or Spencer enter the kitchen. He had stood, watching you silently for a moment as you chopped something, before he moved to slide his hands to hold your waist, snaking them to hold you as he rested his head on your shoulder. Momentarily, you tensed, but soon melted into him. He felt warm and safe, and you had needed this after your capture.

“I'm sorry…” He mumbled into your hair as he squeezed you. You dropped the knife you were holding and brought your hand up to his damp hair, scratching his scalp lightly.

“I'm sorry too, baby…” You mumbled, he moved and turned you to look at him. His eyes were sad, brow furrowed with concern.

"I just... I don't want to loose you, okay?"

"You won't, baby. I'm here." You snaked your arms around his neck and placed your forehead against his.

"Today just... It made me realise we shouldn't wait for things. I was so worried that... That we wouldn't be able to do all the things we planned... That we'd never get married, have kids... I just... I don't want to miss out on that with you. I love you too much." His eyes were closed as he made his confession. Sighing you softly nodded your head against his.

"Then... Why are we waiting?" You asked, voice small as his eyes flicker open, meeting yours once more. T5here is stillness in the air as he stares at you. "Let's have a baby..."

He wasted no time in dipping to kiss you. His lips melting softly into yours as an apology. Smiling into the kiss, you hummed contentedly as he pulled you closer, and you brought your hands up once more to play with his curls. 

The kiss began to become more desperate when you lightly tugged at his hair, causing him to groan into your lips. You smirked as his grip on your hips tightened and his tongue slipped past your lips. The kiss deepened into a battle for dominance between you, lips fighting one another to be the winner. Slowly, Spencer backed you against a clear counter, surprising you when your back hit the cold marble. Your yelp made Spencer smirk as he finally pulled away from you. He had caged you between him and the counter, arms tasting either side. He admired his work, your flushed skin, wide eyes, pupils blown out with lust. You were panting for air through your swollen lips and he could feel all his blood rushing to one single point. All his frustration from before turned to need. Need to show you how much he cares, how much he loves you, how you were his, and his alone. His lips soon darted to your neck, kissing and sucking his way down to your collarbone. You whined under his touch, feeling his growing cock rub against you. It made you squirm in anticipation, you could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter with every touch.

“Spence…” You gasp as his fingers begin to dip under your waist band. He leaned back, watching you as he began to guide his fingers through your folds, gathering your slick and occasionally skimming over your clit teasingly. You were an utter mess for him, and he loved it. He observed you for a moment, simply watching your reactions to his touch, your moans and curses under your breath, the way you held onto his arm, the pout you gave him when he dodged your kiss, smirking at you as he just watched and touched.

“I amso sorry about what happened before, baby… I just didn’t want to lose you” His voice was soft but had an edge of authority that made you clench around nothing. His eyes never left yours as he spoke, just like earlier “Because you’re mine, aren’t you? You belong to me, don’t you?” He continued his agonizingly slow strokes as he spoke, you whined and nodded in response. He simply tutted and shook his head

“Use your words, darling.”

“I-I’m yours, Spencer.” You managed to whisper, voice shaky from the frustrated pleasure you were receiving. Spencer smiled proudly, and sped up slightly, causing you to moan loudly.

“Hmm… I think we need to do something to show everyone else who you belong to…” His voice was teasing. The free hand that caged you lifted to your face, landing softly on your cheek. His other hand continued to work at a steady pace, enough to make you needy, but not enough to push you over the edge anytime soon. He loved to torture you like this, teasing you for hours and not letting you cum. He loved feeling the control over you. Your eyes opened and met his confusion hidden in them. He found it, and found it amusing. He leaned closer into you, his free hand moving to tuck your hair behind your ear before he firmly held the back of your hair. Whispering softly

“I'm gonna put a baby in you, hm? Show everyone who you really belong to, who gets to cum inside you?” 

As he finished speaking, he plunged two fingers inside of your pussy. A loud moan escaped your lips as he pulled your head back to look at him. He had sped up now, fingering you with a cocky smirk. He may be shy in the real world, but behind closed doors, he undoubtedly enjoyed his power over you. His words shocked you at first, but he didn’t miss the way you clenched around his fingers as he fucked you with them. He knew you’d do whatever he wanted to, but this was pushing the limits.

Usually, no matter the scenario, you and Spencer had sex with a condom. You had gone off of birth control, the effects had been killer for you. Spencer, being the loving boyfriend he is, had supported you through this, and your sex life had adjusted with no problem. He used condoms, and the rare occasion you would do it without one, he’d take you for the morning after pill, but now? Now, he wanted to prove a point. 

It wasn’t just about where he came, it was about showing everyone who you belonged to. Who cared for you, who protected you, who you came home to every night.

“What do you say baby? Do you want me to fuck you till everyone knows who you belong to?” Another devious whisper in your ear. You eagerly nodded, Spencer wasted no time in removing his hand from inside you and pulling your pants down your thighs. He roughly turned you around and bent you over the counter, holding both your wrists behind your back. He stepped back, admiring how you looked from behind. You could feel his free hand tracing your skin before feeling a sharp smack to your ass. The pain made you hiss out a moan, you missed Spencer pulling down his sweatpants.

It shocked you momentarily when you felt the tip of his cock move between your folds, teasing your clit as he covered his shaft in your slick. The anticipation of him entering you was killing you, and you bucked your hips against him.

“Eager, are we? You want me to cum inside you that bad?” The edge of teasing was still present in his voice as he held you down. All you could do was whine and squirm under him, waiting for him to enter you. He chuckled before he pushed himself inside of you, groaning as your tight walls stretched around him.

“Fuck…” He muttered as he watched you moan once more. He loved seeing you so submissive under him. He barely waited for you to adjust until he started fucking into you at a rough pace.

Each stroke was bliss, pain turned to pleasure quickly as he relentlessly bottomed out over and over again. He let your wrists go as he held your hips, holding them firmly in place. YOu gripped the edge of the counter tightly in an effort to keep upright.

Spencer watched how he disappeared inside you, moaning as he felt you begin to tighten around him

“Awe, you gonna cum for me, baby? Is that how excited you are for me to cum?” He panted into your ear, you nodded quickly, nearly drooling from the pleasure Spencer was giving you. You let out a loud whine when Spencers hand reached between you both and began to play with your clit.

“Im- Im gonna-” You tried to pant out words that dissipated into moans, Spencer soothed you momentarily before quickening his pace.

“Cum for me, baby. I'm close too, gonna make you a mommy… Gonna fill you up so much.” He was struggling to speak properly now, his strokes were becoming more and more aggressive as he reached his own peak. His words were enough to push you over, with a loud cry you came around his cock, clenching around him as your legs began to shake. You whined his name out, as he groaned again, this time with one last big stroke.

You felt him cum inside you, his cum painting your insides white. As he came, he fucked back into you a few more times sloppily, before leaning forward to kiss your back lightly. When he finally pulled out, your legs almost gave way, your grip on the counter keeping you steady. Spencer huffed a small laugh as he observed you, his eyes moved down to the glistening mess between your legs, he saw his cum beginning to leak out of you. He moved forward once more, steading you with one hand, whilst the other moved between your legs once again, gathering his cum and pushing it back into you, once more fucking you with his fingers. Another loud moan escaped your lips as he did this. You moved your head to the side to look at him, only to be met with a cock grin as he leaned forward 

“Just one more” He breathed, you were still coming down from your last high, so it didn’t take much for you to cum around his fingers once more. Once he was happy, he pulled up your pants, keeping his cum from dripping out of you. He carried you to your shared bedroom before dressing you in your pajamas, careful to keep your underwear on, and joined you in bed. He held you tightly as you snuggled into his chest.

“So… Can I clean myself up now?” You mumbled into his chest, giggling a little bit.

“Well, your chances of pregnancy increase the longer you keep sperm inside. Sperm can stay alive for up to 5 days in the body, but the best way to get pregnant is regular sex, usually every other night around the time you’re ovulating.” Spencer recited the random facts as casually as ever, but it made you jump slightly, you pulled back and sat up.

“Wait… are we ready for this?” You asked timidly, unsure of his answer. Spencer’s eyes met yours and looked fearful for a moment

“Well… We’ve been together for 4 years… I thought it through, and after today especially, I just want to start my life with you as soon as possible… But if you’re not ready we can go get a plan B tomorrow. I guess i got carried away and just went for it We can discuss this more-” You interrupted his amble with a kiss, soft and small.When you pulled back he was confused, cocking a brow at you now. 

“I’d love to start a family with you Spencer… Just, it's a bit nerve wracking.” You giggle. He flushes for a moment, hiding his face in the pillow.

“I'm sorry.” You hear, muffled by the pillow. You laugh lightly as you move him to face you again, giving him another soft kiss.

“But seriously, We have all the time in the world to get me pregnant. I'm gonna go shower.”

[moonstruckme]

As promised: more roommate!james

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 │ part 4 │part 5 │ part 6 │ part 7 │ part 8 │ part 9 │ part 10 │ part 11 │ part 12 │ part 13

roommate!James x shy!reader ♡ 1.3k words

Thunder crashes. A branch from the tree outside smacks into your bedroom window, making you jump. You smile a little at your reaction, and a frisson goes up your spine, giddy. 

You’re kind of in a euphoric state tonight. 

The storm came in early, darkening the sky hours before its time and bringing torrents of rain down upon your home. Immediately, your windows had been opened, your candles lit, and you were curled up on your bed with a book in your hands. 

Downstairs, you can hear the familiar buzz of the TV playing one of James’ sports games. The whole apartment smells like the cookies you made earlier, which you have a small plate of next to you and which your roommate had moaned as he’d bitten into upon you offering some to him. Sweetheart, keep spoiling me like this and you’ll never get me to leave. 

Suffice to say, you’ve been having a fairly good evening. 

Your book is just starting to pick up when the TV quiets. Everything quiets. There’s a thud, followed by a hissed curse. 

You laugh a little. Pick up your phone. 

Alright down there? You text James. 

More thudding sounds. You think about picking your book back up, but decide to wait.

If I were bleeding out on the living room floor, do you think I’d be able to text you back?

A moment later: If you wanted to do a thorough job of seeing I was alright, you should have come and seen for yourself.

Then: And I heard you laughing.

You smile to yourself, a quiet chuckle escaping you. Sorry, can’t, you reply. Too cozy. 

You hear his heavy footfalls coming up the stairs, and you have only a few moments to brace yourself before he’s swinging open your door. 

Lately, your body has been doing this thing where he looks at you and it’s like the ground softens beneath you. Luckily, you’re already on a bed, so it’s not really possible this time. 

James shuts off the flashlight on his phone, looking around your room with the ghost of a smile on his lips. 

“Woah. Are you having a seance in here?” 

You roll your eyes, ignoring the way the candlelight plays prettily over his features. “You’re just jealous that I was prepared for the power to go out and you weren’t.” 

“It looks like you were hoping for it.” James grins. He starts to cross the room, and you’re like a sunflower to your light as you tilt to face him. 

He lays down next to you on your bed, on his stomach with his forearms propping him up. It’s a somewhat tight fit, but James doesn’t seem to mind the way his hip and shoulder are touching yours. His shampoo smell wraps around you like a hug. 

You pick up your tea as an excuse not to look at him, blowing softly before taking a sip. James watches you consideringly. 

“You really are thriving in here, aren’t you?” he teases softly. “Look at you, you’ve got your fuzzy socks on, your tea, your book. You’re in paradise.” 

You smile sheepishly as you set your tea down on the floor. “Sorry you couldn’t finish your game.” 

“Oh, it’s alright.” He nudges your shoulder with his. “I’d rather hang with you anyway.” 

You feel your brows furrow, a confusing mass of emotions knotting in your chest. “Don’t say that,” you tell him softly.

You can feel James’ gaze warming the side of your face. His voice is just as quiet. “Why not?” 

You look over, and his eyes don’t flit away like a sane person’s would. They’re steady and warm as the flames around you. Instantly the room feels too small, him a little too close. 

James’ smile is almost tentative. “Look, I know you drew the short stick with this roommate agreement, but I plan to soak up as much roomie time as I can get. Sorry.” 

“I did not,” you murmur. 

“Didn’t what?” 

“You drew the short stick.” Your face burns. You know James too well to think he’d be making fun of you, but it’s difficult to imagine an alternative. He can’t really think you don’t like having him as a roommate after all the ways he’s been a friend to you, the times he’s stepped in to help, when you’ve only been a burden and a drag. “Not me.” 

His eyebrows twitch closer to each other, and his lips tilt bemusedly, as though they’re unsure of what else to do. The lenses of his glasses reflect the candlelight, brown eyes molten behind them. 

“I’m inclined to disagree,” he says. The air between you feels thick and sweet. Your heart seems to know something you don’t, quickening its rhythm in your chest. Then, because it’s James, he flicks up a brow. “Truce?” 

You laugh quietly, turning your face down towards your book. There are goosebumps going all down your arms. “Sure,” you say. 

“Good,” he murmurs. “Glad that’s settled.” 

You don’t respond this time. You’re not sure you can. The words on your page blur by, unnoticed and unimportant.

Lightning cracks outside. You gasp and turn to see it, and James’ lips meet you there. 

You should have known he would be soft like this. You’ve kept yourself from thinking about it, but you could have guessed. The first gentle, warm press of his mouth is so lovely you get lost in it, but when it lasts for too long and he starts to draw back, you remember that you can move, too. 

He takes in a tiny inhale when you part your lips for him, his hand finding your waist and his body curving over yours. Your arm falls out from under you, and James follows you down. He tastes sweet and familiar, like home. 

You bring your hands up to his face, one resting tentatively on his cheek while the other toys with the idea of slipping its fingers into his hair. The sky rumbles outside. Your heart pitters. 

“It’s okay,” James mumbles. His voice buzzes against your lips. “It’s okay, sweetheart, please.” 

You grasp at the roots of his hair, palm settling more surely on his cheek, and James makes a sound low in his throat. He breaks the kiss to pull off his glasses. You take them from where he sets them on the bed, placing them more carefully on the floor where they’re not so likely to get crushed. His lips curve over yours. You think that if you were to detour to either side, you might find a dimple in his cheek. 

“James,” you murmur. 

“Oh, it’s James again now, is it?” 

“What?” 

“Nothing.” He kisses the corner of your mouth. “What is it?” 

“Are you sure?” 

It’s a nonsensical question, but in fairness you think all the blood that’s supposed to be in your brain has gone to your lips, and James seems to get what you mean anyway. 

He chuckles quietly. “I am, yeah.” He makes a sound that’s almost like a sigh, hand climbing up your back until it’s trapped between your shoulders and your bed. “I don’t ever tell you how lovely you are, but I’ve…I’m sure. What about you?”

“I don’t know,” you admit. “I think so.” 

“That’s okay.” James kisses your chin, the curve of your jaw. 

“You’re lovely, too,” you tell him somewhat desperately. His lashes tickle your cheek. Your fingers are still burrowed in the hair at his nape. “I never tell you. I like when you’re here.” 

You feel his smile bloom against your skin. “I like you too, sweetheart,” he says, voice light with teasing. 

You frown, wishing he would take you seriously. “I do. I really like you.” 

“I think I like you more.” 

You scoff. He nips at your jaw, surprising a laugh out of you. “You can’t always win,” you say. 

James makes a happy humming sound. “I guess we’ll have to see.”

[fastandcarlos]

Restless Baby : ̗̀➛ Max Verstappen

summary: 1.1k words of dad and husband max trying to fix the angsty mess that he's made

A hum of confusion came from Max as he tapped the space beside him, expecting to feel your figure. Instead he was slapped by the harsh cold of your empty space, the chill in the air leaving Max shivering. He knew bed was where you needed to be, especially with your pregnancy so close to the end.

He slowly sat himself up, brushing his hands over the front of his face. Max steadily stood up, noticing a faint glow of light coming from the doorway. He knew it was you, but he was confused as to what you were still doing up. 2:07 the clock informed him, definitely time for you to be resting. Max crept through the house, moving down the stairs to try and find where you were.

Fast asleep.

Max was almost relieved to see you resting until he noticed how uncomfortable you looked. The guilt struck him as soon as he took you in, knowing that your decision to sleep on the cold, battered sofa was all down to him.

Unlucky for Max, you weren’t quite as asleep as he thought you were. You could hear him moving through the room, desperately trying to keep your eyes screwed shut in an attempt to convince Max that you really were asleep and for him to leave you alone. He knew you better though, and knew exactly the way to try and catch you out too.

His head shook as he took a few quiet steps towards you, poking his finger against your arm that hung out from the blanket you had draped over you. Your body jumped at his sudden touch, confident you could hear Max giggling proudly to himself as he sat down beside your figure, giving you a moment to rub the sleep out of your eyes and tilt your head to look across at him.

“This is ridiculous,” Max told you, resting his arm just above your head.

“I don’t want to talk to you,” you huffed, pulling the blanket further around your body, making sure that your bump was well protected and warm.

“Just come and join me in bed.”

Your head shook defiantly back at Max. “Why would I share a bed with the man who says I’m distracting his career because he can’t get a good night’s sleep with all my fidgeting. I’m giving you what you wanted right now, what’s the problem?” You snapped. Max flinched at your harsh tone, he knew what he’d said was probably the worst thing that he could say, and he knew he had a whole world of making up to do too.

“According to my data I got three hours of sleep last night, my coaches are really concerned as to what’s going on!”

“You try being seven months pregnant and see how it easy it is to rest at night, I’m sorry life is so difficult for you Max.”

“At least you can rest most of the day!”

“Wow Max!”

“My lack of sleep is starting to effect my performance and I can’t let that happen, my career is important and you wriggling around most of the night is really starting to impact that!” Max yelled back, stopping as soon as he realised what he had said. Your eyes fell to the floor as you took a moment to process what he had said, sticking the blame on you as if you wanted to sleep restlessly and enjoyed not being able to let your husband rest at night. “Babe, I-“

“Don’t even try and apologise, I can’t believe you’re making me feel guilty for growing our child, I’m sorry it’s all just such an inconvenience.”

“I didn’t mean it like that, you know I don’t feel that way,” Max tried to argue, but your mind was already made up, his true feelings really were now known.

“You go to bed Max, I’ll give you the space that your precious career needs,” you told him, pushing him in the direction of your bedroom. He let his feet go, knowing arguing with you was pointless, hoping you’d follow behind him.

“I don’t know what I was thinking when I said what I said earlier love.”

Max’s hand slowly reached out and hovered over the top of your bump, smiling to himself as he admired just how big your baby was getting.

“My career is important, but you and the baby mean so much more to me. I was insensitive and rude, my priorities weren’t straight. I know it’s hard for you, and I really do completely understand how difficult being pregnant is,” Max whispered.

Your hand slowly moved across your bump, resting your fingers just over the top of Max’s.

“No one wants for me to sleep peacefully more than me,” you informed him.

“I know,” he smiled, shuffling closer towards you. “I’m so proud of you, you’re coping so well, and I’m sorry if I ever made you feel anything different.”

“You’re an idiot sometimes, you know?”

“I do,” Max chuckled as he saw the first hint of a smile on your face. “I’m stupid, selfish and a massive ass sometimes, but that doesn’t stop me being so in love with you and our baby. You have no idea how excited I am for our future together babe.”

You hummed in agreement with Max, “I do, I’ve heard all those interviews you did in Miami last weekend.”

“Seeing as you’re talking to me again, is there a chance you might come and join me in bed again too? It’s horrible being in there without you,” Max smirked, extending his hand out for you to take.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” you teased, taking Max’s hand and allowing his other arm to wrap around you and help you off of the sofa.

“Can I get that in writing too?” Max grinned as you started walking.

Your head shook as he supported you all the way back to the bedroom, easing you down and placing the duvet gently over your body.

“Max, reckon you could sleep if I laid in your side?” You whispered, surprised by just how cold your spot was after you left it abandoned for so long.

“Of course,” he replied without even having to think, lifting his arm up and inviting you into the warmth beside him.

“Is this alright for you?”

“I promise, it’s more than alright for me.”

Whether he slept well for the rest of the night or not, it didn’t matter to Max, just as long as he had you back by his side.

And if his data was rubbish, well, his coaches would just have to deal with it.

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[salemlunaa]

❦ VOID STATE: THIS ISN’T YOU, YOU HAVE NO PLACE HERE ❦

the life you live now shouldn’t feel natural, like at all

So for those using the void to respawn or to permashift, there’s a reason things are so difficult: you are so comfortable where you are and that needs to change. Stop aligning with this shitty reality, as i said before, you must change what’s natural to you, this place isn’t natural to you anymore. The nanosecond you decided you wanted more, this reality wasn’t “yours” anymore. The second you even knew you had a “desired reality” was the second that it became YOUR reality. And one of the reasons you guys don’t feel natural about this is you don’t think you deserve it and in the back of your mind you still see something so simple (yet made to seem impossible by society) out of your reach

when you “fail the void” and wake back up in your current reality, you have a tinge of disappointment in your heart, and emotion is more than allowed but you also had a “knowing” that this was gonna happen, it was almost like you expected to fail, like you expected to be dropped back here in your shitty life when the void “didn’t work out” for you. Instead you should be confused, or slightly annoyed

why are you here? why did you wake up here?

this isn’t YOUR reality and you KNOW this

why did you expect to wake up in that bed when you said you were gonna align yourself with your new reality?

there is no place for you here, the new reality is where you belong

you shouldn’t be here, you shouldn’t EXPECT to wake up here

This can even be applied to waking up in your old face and body, that body that you saved into your mood board, isn’t a desire, it’s just yours. That pretty girl you save into your favourites isn’t your “face claim”, you just have that face naturally. You save edits of your “desired” significant other, telling yourself that they’ll be yours one day when they’re yours NOW.

These aren’t desires, they are yours. Just yours.

You should stop feeling so comfortable in a body, face, family or reality that doesn’t belong to you. That comfort you have in waking up back in your shitty life lets me KNOW that you don’t genuinely, truly think you deserve your new life. And you not believing you’re worthy of your new life and that you’ll “get there if you’re lucky enough” is what causes you guys to be so lazy about tapping in

Even the word “desired” shows that you see YOUR life as something so out of reach, instead maybe go for “new reality/ new story” and instead of calling it your “current reality”, call it your “old story” because that’s all it is, it’s not your current state or your reality, it’s only some distant story.

Now i urge you to go look at that mood board/ favourites folder you’ve made in honour of your desired self and the life you have in your desired reality (and yes i know you have a mood board, if not multiple 🙄) and look at it hard, tell yourself “wow, that’s ME”, because IT IS YOU, fall in love with yourself and your life because THAT IS YOU MY LOVE, AND THAT’S HOW YOU LIVE

CHANGE WHAT YOURE COMFORTABLE WITH, AND YOUR NEW LIFE WILL BE YOURS, BE CONFIDENT ABOUT THE NEW YOU 🐆💋

[valerie-is-in-the-cupboard]

Shall we dance? - Viktor x reader

Hi there! With the second season of Arcane on the horizon, I’m excited to start writing for some of its characters. I hope you enjoy this one! ❤️

Words: ~1500 TW: none

"Can you dance?"

Your voice echoed in the lab, making Viktor look up at you with a confused look. He would lie if he said he didn't expect you to say something. Not when you stared at him in the past thirty minutes, your eyebrows slightly furrowed just like they do when something was on your mind.

"Pardon?" he said, his eyes scanning your face. He did hear your question very clearly, but he hoped that maybe you would let it go, feeling too exhausted to deal with you right now.

He never understood why Jayce wanted an assistant. He never asked you to do anything anyway. You just stood there with them, sometimes doing some of his paperwork. But today was one of those days he found himself alone with you, as Jayce was at yet another meeting.

"Can you dance?" you repeated, this time slower, making sure every word got to him.

His expression was unamused, and he looked about as tired as ever: dark circles under his eyes, messy hair from him likely running his hand through it in frustration, and the way he was slumped in his chair like he was about ready to pass out at any moment.

“I don’t dance.” He said dully.

"I didn't ask that. I asked if you could do it," you said, gesturing at his leg.

“No, I can’t.” He said in a tone that clearly told you to drop the subject. You just stood there silent for a moment, your eyes still fixed on his leg. He sighed, relieved that maybe now he could continue his work in silence.

"Have you tried?"

Dammit.

“What part of ‘no I can’t’ are you not understanding?” he snapped, “Why are you fixating on my leg?

"Have. You. Tried?" you ask again, your tone more persistent.

“Of course, I’ve tried.” He said with an obvious annoyance in his voice. He didn’t enjoy talking about this subject. “How exactly do you expect me to dance if I can barely walk in the first place?” he huffed, waving a dismissive hand at his own leg.

You lean back, your eyes scanning him once again. He knew that face - the sign that those little wires in your head are connecting, another light bulb glowing brightly.

"Have you ever danced with anyone?" He placed the pen on the table, a bit harsher than he would've wanted. His eyes locked with yours, not sure what answer you would like to hear from him. "I mean... it's easier to dance with someone than alone."

“No, I haven’t danced with anyone. It’s rather difficult to find someone who wants to dance with someone who can barely stand up without a cane."

"I would."

He was stunned for a moment, his eyes widening at your answer. “You-... Why?” What possible reason would compel you to want to dance with him of all people? You didn’t even like him or at least you acted like this.

"Because I think you might enjoy it," you said, getting up and walking to the phonograph Jayce brought in the lab at some point. His eyes followed you around, a confused look on his face as you looked at some vinyls, trying to pick one.

He turned back to his work as if that would make you disappear... forever, preferably. Your steps approaching him made his heart skip a beat, his brain fogging as your warm hand briefly touched his, snatching the pen he was holding.

"Up," you commanded him, met with a groan of annoyance.

"I'm not getting up," he said as you tugged on his hand slightly. "I have work to do."

"You worked enough."

He hated how fast you answered him like you already knew every word he was going to say.

He sighed as he raised himself from the chair, leaning against the desk as he looked down at you. "Are you happy?"

"Very much so." you smiled, his face slightly heating up at the sight. You placed his other hand on your waist, as you grabbed his shoulder tightly. "Lean onto me," you said and pulled him closer, feeling a bit taken aback by the fact that he was heavier than he looked. "I got you."

He let out a scoff but begrudgingly followed your instructions. “This is stupid…” he mumbled as he leaned closer.

"Well, it is with this attitude of yours! Try to be more positive about it!" you encouraged. "Now, we'll start with the right one, alright?"

He gave you an annoyed look as you continued being overly chipper. He hated how much you were enjoying this. “Right… and how exactly do you expect me to move my right leg without my cane?” he grumbled, waving towards his cane sitting on the desk. You looked at him for a moment, the same look from earlier appearing on your face, as you realised you've mistaken his healthy leg.

"Just... Just lean on me, alright? Pretend I'm your cane."

He stood there for a moment, hesitant. It wasn't that he didn't trust you could hold him as you proved yourself to be more than capable of supporting his weight. He felt vulnerable. He didn't really like depending on someone else, so now, having to trust you completely was a bit overwhelming. You looked up at him, a bit worried at his sudden stiffness. "Hey... If you want to stop..."

“No…” he said, a bit too quickly than he intended. It was obvious that he was trying to avoid your gaze. He took in a sharp breath through his nose, his hand on your waist tightening slightly. He could feel his heart thump in his chest as he looked down at his feet, refusing to meet your eyes. “Let’s keep going…” he finally mumbled after a moment.

You smiled at his words. "Just follow my lead."

With slow steps, he mirrored you, as the music echoed in the lab. Your hands were firm against him, making sure you were not letting him fall, your eyes scanning his body for every sign that he might want to stop. But he didn't.

He didn't want to stop. The more he moved, the more the tension in his shoulders began to ease up.

He hated to admit it, but you were right. It was easier to move with a partner. And having you hold onto him, making sure he could follow your steps… it was something akin to freedom. He didn’t have to worry about keeping himself from collapsing because you wouldn’t let him fall.

That feeling scared him as much as fascinated him.

"See?" you said. "I knew you could dance." you encouraged him, a wide smile on your face.

You looked up to notice a small smile on his lips, a hint of pride in his eyes as he heard your praise.

“Don’t get a big head about it.” he mumbled, “This is still stupid...”

You chuckled as you swayed around the desk. "But you like it," you said, your voice a bit lower.

Oh, how much he wanted to argue with you. "No, I don’t. It’s stupid. It’s pointless." But the way his heartbeat in his chest made it difficult to focus. And he hated how he didn’t want you to let go anytime soon.

"You are such a pain in the ass sometimes, you knew that?" you chuckled, as you moved your eyes back to the ground, making sure you don't step on his legs.

“I could say the same thing about you.” He let out a quiet wince of pain as his leg twitched. It seemed his body was reminding him that he was, in fact, not made to dance, as much as he hated to admit it. “Okay, yes, I’ve had enough.” he said through gritted teeth, “My leg is protesting…”

You slowly helped him sit back in his chair, your hand lingering for just a few moments on his shoulder again. "Hurts too much?" you asked, a hint of worry on your face.

"Ah, it's nothing really..." he said, already used to the pain he was supposed to endure more often than he liked to admit. A feeling of guilt passed through you, thinking that maybe you shouldn't have insisted.

"I'm sorry..." you said, as you leaned against the desk. "I just wanted to help you relax a bit, that's all..."

He looked up at you, his hand slightly squeezing your arm in reassurance. “You don’t have to apologize. You were right. That was…” He hesitated for a moment on his next words. “…That was nice…” he finally whispered.

A smile appeared on your face at his words. "Next time we'll paint. Maybe this activity will be less... dangerous."

“Paint? Really?” he raised an eyebrow questioningly. “That’s the next one on your list of things to do to get me to relax?”

You wanted to talk, but as you looked at the clock on your wrist, your eyes widening slightly as you realised you were late for a meeting. Quickly you made your way to the door. "Well... I have some other things in plan..." you smirked as you leaned against the door. "But we'll take it slow," you left him alone in the lab, a faint blush on his cheeks.

He sat there completely dumbfounded, staring at the door for who knows how long, intrigued by your words.

Suddenly, the idea of Jayce having an assistant didn't sound so bad anymore...

[tmpestuous]

someone to stay

summary: bucky offers you solace as your mental fatigue rears its head.

pairing: boyfriend!bucky x reader

warnings: angst, reader anxiety/depression, fluff, non-sexual nudity, a comforting buck <3

word count: 2.5k

a/n: this was inspired by my own issues right now because i definitely need it at the moment :’) 

Getting out of bed was always the most difficult part of your day. Even when you were feeling okay, even when nothing was immediately wrong. You would wake up and stare into the void, blankets smothering your body and eyelids still heavy from the bit of sleep you’d managed to get.

There wasn’t anything pressing your anxiety, but having been out of your routine for a few weeks always left you feeling unmotivated. After having been sidelined from missions for a multitude of reasons—injuries, mental stability, and a dwindling success rate—you had nothing to do. None of your side hobbies entertained you long enough to keep you busy, so you fell into the same cycle. You sometimes wished you could sleep all day or even just stay stagnant in bed, but you knew it’d only make the fatigue worse.

Today, however, was not one of those days where you pushed yourself out of bed. Not bothered to check the time, you closed your eyes again. It was raining outside anyways, the perfect weather to stay cuddled in bed for. Soon enough, you found some sleep again, even if you’d regret it later.

Bucky, who was not sidelined from missions, had just come back from one, more than eager to see you. He was back earlier than expected, so he only figured you wouldn’t be in your usual spot waiting for him in the hangar of the compound. It was a bit past noon, so he assumed you were keeping busy elsewhere.

After a quick debrief, he made it to your shared room, only to be led to confusion at the curtains still drawn and all of the lights off. He knew how much you hated sleeping in too late, only ever sleeping past 9 if you were really exhausted and/or hadn’t gotten much sleep at all. Even then, you never let it get past 11 before you were up and out of bed.

Bucky knew you were taking your suspension a bit rougher than expected. He hated seeing you upset and he was even willing to skip out on a few missions to stay with you, but you’d insisted otherwise, saying “the bad guys don’t take breaks.” 

He never liked leaving you. Most of your missions had the two of you together, SHIELD thinking you worked well together even outside of your relationship. Going on missions without you meant he was always stuck with some reckless, inexperienced agent who wasn’t half as skilled as you a lot of the time. It was why he only liked the ones where he was with Sam or Steve, at least not having to stress about saving anyone.

He missed you on every single one. Your quips, how satisfying it was to see you kick people’s asses, and how swiftly you did just about everything. But Bucky also knew you needed a break. Your anxiety was more rampant lately, and it was affecting all of your skills on the field. The decision to bench you didn’t come easy to anyone, but especially not you.

You honestly had little to no idea what had you so anxious to start with, but anything else that triggered your anxiety only amplified it. Bucky was so reluctant to let Steve suspend you, but after you got seriously injured on a mission for lack of attention, he couldn’t argue against it anymore.

“You can’t be serious,” you said to Steve, tears in your eyes. “I’ve been injured so many times, why does that even matter?”

“It’s not just the injury,” Steve countered. “You’ve been off your game. I can’t risk losing one of our best members because you’re distracted.”

“I’m not dis—”

“You being distracted is how you ended up with a broken arm and a head injury,” he cut you off, making you look away from him. “You’re gonna end up dead if you keep on like this. I can’t deal with that loss, and neither can Bucky.”

Snapping your gaze back at Steve, you scoffed.

“So this is about Bucky?”

“This is about you, Y/n,” Steve said, his tone slightly more irritated. “He begged me not to bench you, said you just needed some time but even he knows putting you on the field again is risking your life.”

Wiping your tears away, you said nothing in response. You knew he was right, but the last thing you needed was to give in. It’d make you crumble, it’d make this whole situation real and you knew where you’d end up. 

Your conversation ended when Bucky walked in the room.

It was the right decision after all. However, Bucky’s chest ached knowing how low you were feeling. Knowing that you were doing everything just to get by, yet nothing at all. He hadn’t seen you in a melancholy state for years, but it always scared him. He barely made it out of his own episodes sometimes, panic manifesting through his bones. His worry only worsened at the thought of not being able to pull you from the darkness, the way you’d done so for him many times. 

Seeing you under the sheets, sound asleep past noon didn’t settle Bucky’s own anxiety. He was out on this mission for eight days, but you’d sounded okay when you spoke to him over the phone every night. 

Were you not getting any sleep? Were you falling asleep really late? Or was your current funk really getting to you?

Bucky set his duffel bag on the floor, shutting the door behind him. He decided against opening the curtains until you were awake, sitting on the edge of the bed next to your sleeping body, placing his flesh hand on your cheek gently.

“Sweetheart,” he said, leaning down and kissing your forehead a few times. “Let me see those pretty eyes, doll.”

Furrowing your eyebrows before peeling your eyes open, you were greeted with your favorite super soldier, a smile creeping on your face.

“Hi,” you said groggily, Bucky kissing your forehead again. “You’re back early.”

“Got the job done quickly,” he fed your curiosity. “What are you still doing asleep, doll? Are you okay?”

“What time is it?” You said, still unmotivated to get up from your lying position. 

“Almost 1,” Bucky answered before your eyes widened and you sat up, frantic about how the morning got away from you. “Hey, hey,” Bucky placed his hands on your shoulder, easing the tension a bit. “It’s okay, there’s nothing wrong with oversleeping once in a while.”

You shook your head, avoiding Bucky’s gaze as you rubbed your eyes. “I shouldn’t have slept that long.”

Bucky pressed a kiss to your shoulder, then your cheek, then pulled your hands away from your eyes. The bags under them didn’t go without notice, Bucky getting more worried than earlier. He knew you weren’t sleeping well, and him not being here to soothe you must have made it worse.

“Is everything okay?” He asked again, never getting an answer from you.

You sighed. “I don’t really know, I’m just- I’m always tired and don’t wanna do anything even though I know I shouldn’t just stay in bed. I was gonna wake up early today to see if I could get moving but then I barely slept and thought a few more hours could be useful but now—”

“Shh,” Bucky said, pulling you into his embrace, rubbing your back softly. “There is still a lot of time left in the day, but I don’t mind sleeping this Sunday away with you after the mission I just had.” He kissed the top of your head a few times. “We can shower then eat and then rest. Sounds good?”

You nodded, with a muffled ‘okay’ into his chest before pulling away, Bucky standing and grasping your hand in his to head to the bathroom. 

Bucky turned the shower on, letting it run to get warm before turning back to you. After you helped Bucky take his tac suit off, he helped you shed your pajamas. The both of you took your underwear off, Bucky checking the water before you stepped in. 

You always enjoyed showering with Bucky, most after a mission when you were both tired. Though this was different since you weren’t the one coming home, the sentiment of being tired remained the same.

Bucky could tell you were tense, that something was still bothering you. He never wanted to pry, so he massaged the tension out of your shoulders, getting you to relax your posture a bit. You both worked your way around lathering each other with soap, your eyes doing their usual routine of scanning Bucky’s body for any cuts and bruises. Bucky decided to wash your hair, finding any means of making you feel relaxed. You sighed under his touch, leaning your head forward to rest against his chest as he rinsed your hair.

“Steve mentioned you going back on the field again,” Bucky eased into the conversation. “You feeling up for it?” Much to Bucky’s surprise, you shook your head, prompting him to lift your face in his hands. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? You know you can talk to me.”

Sighing again, you leaned into his touch. “I’m not ready.”

“I thought you wanted to get back,” Bucky furrowed his eyebrows.

“I do,” you nodded. “But I just feel so… out of it. Like my mind is out of fuel and it’s putting my body on pause. I have no energy lately, I don’t really know what’s wrong with me.”

Bucky looked at you, a hint of sorrow in his eyes. He’d been there, where his body was craving one thing but his mind just never allowed him to satisfy any of his desires. Depression didn’t always look the same, but he could tell when it was starting to consume you.

The restless nights, the fatigue, the lack of energy and motivation. It was a stark contrast to your usual, productive self. Sometimes Bucky would have to slow you down for doing too many things at once, so it pained him to see you not want to do anything at all. 

He decided right then and there he’d take a pause from any missions until you were okay. Until he could see the spark in your eye again, the pep in your step. The energy being revitalized.

“It happens, baby,” he reassured. “You’ve helped me through some of my funks, so let me help you out of yours, hm?”

“You don’t have to, Bucky,” you shook your head, but he shushed you, a chaste kiss placed on your lips. “I’m serious, you don’t have to pause your life for me. People still need help and I’ll get out of my fatigue stint eventually, so—”

“You know you’re not gonna convince me otherwise, right?” He shut you up again, offering you a smirk and another peck to the lips. “I would drop everything for you. At any time, on any day, at any given moment. You are my world, doll. If you’re not okay, then my world isn’t okay.”

“But what if they really need you—”

“They won’t,” Bucky grabbed the comb to detangle your hair. “Now come on, let me help you ease your mind, hm?”

Knowing you couldn’t say no to him, you turned so your back was facing him, Bucky smoothly getting any knots out of your hair. 

He knew how much you loved it when he did your hair, knowing the process was super long and you didn’t want to do it half of the time. When he first heard you complain about having to do it, he made you teach him your whole routine for whenever you were feeling unmotivated to. It was one of many things he eagerly learned for you, always wanting to pamper you. 

Feeling a bit overwhelmed over the fact that you had him back, here with you as he did everything in his power to clear your head from the anxious thoughts, you couldn’t help but tear up. 

When he finished detangling your hair, holding it up with a clip, he saw you crying, quickly pulling you in his arms, kissing you everywhere he could. 

“I’m here, sweetheart,” he said, leaning down to kiss your shoulder. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Once he let you return the favor of washing his hair, you made him sit on the built-in bench in the shower so you wouldn’t have to reach up the whole time. 

Bucky loved touching you, but he swore to everything that he loved your touch even more. Your hands were so soft and gentle, with each lather and rinse of his head.

“Your hair’s getting long again,” you said, running your fingers through Bucky’s brown locks, the length now passing his ear. “Are you gonna cut it?”

Bucky shrugged, his hands finding comfort in your waist as you stood in front of him. He placed a kiss on each of your hips then your stomach before looking up at you.

“Maybe, maybe not,” he answered before standing, kissing your lips again. He knew how much you liked his short hair when he first cut it, but deep down you loved his long hair too. You just never forced him to keep one or the other, knowing how many memories his hair held.

Bucky loved how well you knew him, how well you understood him. It was the main reason why he took his time to do the same for you.

Once you were both out of the shower and dressed, Bucky picked up his phone to order some food. You’d told him you were craving Chinese the night before on your phone call while he was away, so he ordered all of your favorites as you finished drying your hair in the bathroom.

After eating dinner, Bucky slid under the covers of your shared bed, extending his metal arm for you to grab as you slid in next to him. Your head found its usual spot on his chest, both of his arms encasing you in the pressure you sought so many times, your left leg over his right one. 

“Thank you,” you said softly as Bucky rubbed your back just the way you liked it. “For never judging me.”

“I would never plan to,” he said, using his right hand to lift your chin up. “We’re human. We have our moments where we need a break, a reset. You taught me that when I needed to hear it. Don’t think that it excludes you, my love.”

Leaning up, you pressed your lips against his in a soft kiss that said more than enough. 

Pulling away, you looked into those blue eyes that meant the world to you.

“What would I do without you?”

“Force yourself to do your hair routine every week,” Bucky joked, making you roll your eyes playfully with a smirk.

You pressed a kiss on his chest before laying your head on it again. “I love you.”

“I love you more, doll,” he said, massaging your scalp to soothe you until you fell asleep.

Bucky could watch you be this peaceful forever, vowing to spend the rest of his days making sure you were okay. He always knew you’d return the favor, enjoying every moment spent with you like this, comforted best in his arms.

[wonderjanga]

Barely Human Cap

Imagine Cap as more dollish than human. Even though he’s supposed to be extremely durable/bulletproof, I think he could take major injuries and brush them off. Like at most, it’ll slow him down a bit, but he’ll just go back to fighting. And the reason for think would be that he can’t feel pain. Hence, the whole doll thing. Like, I can imagine the JL is fighting this super strong and powerful monster or villain that’s even giving the powerhouses of the league trouble. They then have to witness Marvel get hit really hard and go flying. Let’s say Flash runs over to see if he’s alright and sees that Marvel’s entire lower jaw is just gone. One of his eyes is also popped out of the socket and he’s kinda just laying there so Flash, rightfully so, thinks he’s dead. That is until Billy moves and tries to pop his eye back into its socket. He succeeds but not to the horror of Flash. He then casually gets up, even brushes off his cape, and starts to look for his jaw. He then finds it and throws it into a pocket dimension all while Barry watches. Then, when the speedster finally snaps out of his daze he immediately rushes over to Marvel and starts bombarding him with questions as if the champion could answer. Thankfully for Billy, an explosion in the distance helps them remember there’s still a super difficult fight going on so he flies off back to the fight. He horrified the other members of the league during this too.

I also feel like there would be other things. (which might or might not actually be canon) Like, I don’t think Marvel has reproductive organs. And I think Billy would say something like this if the situation ever came down to it:

Superman: “Your tiger isn’t neutered?”

Marvel: “No? Why would he be? Also, he’s not my tiger. He’s just a tiger. That happens to be one of my bestest friends.”

Superman: *doesn’t really know what to say to the last three sentences.* “Right… Well, what if he, y’knows another tiger?”

Marvel: “Then he y’knows her. Trust me when I say getting neutered sucks. I know from personal experience.” (He doesn’t, he just knows his Captain Marvel form doesn’t have anything in the lower regions.)

Green Lantern: “You know from personal experience…?” *He looks horrified.*

Marvel: “Yeah, I do.” (Again, he doesn’t) “One day, the wizard called me in and was like, ‘Marvel, come here.’ So I did. Then, he waved his hand, and everything down under was just gone. That was like ten thousand years ago, but it’s still fresh in my mind.” (He made that up as he went)

Flash: “You… You poor soul.” *Pats Cap’s shoulder.*

I also wouldn’t be surprised if Marvel doesn’t have organs in the first place. Like I can see Clark getting constantly jumpscared by Marvel because the man doesn’t need to breathe, no lungs, he doesn’t have a heartbeat, no heart, and Clark can’t even hear muscles straining as he moves so that suggests he doesn’t have muscles too.

I can also see Billy using this to blatantly lie to press whenever they ask about his dating life (he’s like twelve, he doesn’t have nor want one.) or literally anything else:

Reporter: “Captain!” *Runs over to Billy, camera crew following behind her.*

Marvel: *Stops* “Yes?” *Looks between reporter and camera.*

Reporter: “Could we interview you for a few moments?”

Marvel: “Oh uh- Sure!” *Gives a thumbs up*

Reporter: *Gives cue to camera guy to start rolling* “Alright, so are there any lucky ladies in your life?”

Marvel: “Hm?” *Makes the most confused face and looks around to the aftermath of a battle between Black Adam and him. That was what he expected her to ask about.* “I didn’t catch that.”

Reporter: “Are there any lucky ladies in your life? You’re quite a handsome man, Captain. I’m sure you’ve had your share of women.”

Marvel: *Stares at the reporter for a few seconds with that blank, computing expression.* “Uh… no?” Think, Billy! Think! What can you say to end this fast? “I can’t feel romantic feelings for anyone.”

Reporter: “Can you elaborate?” *Holds mic up to his face.*

Marvel: *thinking of how he can make this make sense* “Well, you see I… don’t have a brain! So I’m not really able to feel things like that.”

Reporter: “ -Oh. Uhm.” *Shocked and looking to the camera man before looking back at Marvel.* “Well—”

Marvel: *Cuts her off* “Okay, bye!” *Flies off fast.*

[solselah]

Off rip I see you carry the energy of duality super heavy , You could be Bi sexual specifically or in general apart of The LGBTQIA+ community! people are shocked about what you’re attracted to if you choose to express that , it’s always a shock factor towards it.

(which you never understand) I can see people are generally shocked when they come across your energy being that you truly just give

“you were made for me” vibes

&

“Match made in heaven energy”

it's shocking to come across an energy like yours! (Mini 18+ warning ) For my Ladies, people love love your boobs its something about your chest area!! There can also be a tattoo that you have in the middle of your chest that's a staple and ultimately shocking once revealed. you can be real freaky pile 1 & those you were intimate with are still shocked to this day about how freaky you are. You just don’t give that energy from the outside looking in. For a handful of you your ex is super shocked that you literally fell of the face of the planet , it’s like they had so much access when you were together but currently they are incredibly “shocked” that you are a bit difficult to contact , They definitely feel surprised / confused that you aren’t friends anymore. They at least thought you both would be cordial! You chose to fully separate which on your part was best & healthy for YOU.

You either seen them recently or will & they are/ Were SHOCKED to see you ! Like you look GOOOOD pile 1 you really ARE that BITCH , THAT GIRL , THAT MAN !!!

I purely channeled for this pile so you definitely have an

“Off the record”

vibe to you that shocks people.

Channeled song :

PERFECT - Dave East ft Chris Brown

444

You are so loyal and it can kind of be in insult if someone ever said to you in your face that they thought you wouldn’t value loyalty in life. you are the ride or die friend & in retrospect your so protected in friendships definitely more than you think. For this pile you could truly be a “loner” , people are pretty shocked that you don’t have a whole legion of friends!

People are also shocked to know you have the ability to not freak out if that makes sense , you can stay calm in the most intense situations and circumstances! You can literally just vibe out & that alone was birthed from all the hurdles and lessons you endured. You learned & mastered the art of not giving af and people find this not only shocking but attractive it’s like a gift you don’t usually see in everyone. People are pretty shocked to find out that you have hella skeletons in your closet but you hide it so well & with you it doesn’t present in a toxic manner.. you know your dark side . You don’t just scream all your fuck ups out loud. If asked , potentially but on a General level yea its a NO!

I feel heavy Scorpio energy as well for this pile 🦂

I see a visual of a Strip club and a pole and I loveeee it ! So you may be heavily into the night life in your city , or you entertain professionally in your city but people are shocked to see you outside of certain environments! Unfortunately in this world people judge strictly off looks and it seems you’ve been a victim of that at some point pretty heavily & your 360 is SHOCKING to people who knew & resonated with the “old you”. People are shocked that you really put your mind to this and started to hustle for your own ! You got some individuals who are shocked that you are humble with your money , it’s like you could be shitting on bitches but you’re super humble about it. Thats shocking to those who felt like the old you would be “obnoxious” about your success! This pile gets MONEY And idk why people are in YALLs pockets, but that’s so shocking to people It’s scary. People want the formula babes … it’s shocking but it’s the pure interest for me.

You could really pop your shit if you wanted to , And you’re super independent!! definitely keep beating the odds that arise against you while effortlesly shocking these h*** ;)

Random Side bar : The way you ride , you always shock whoever has the pleasure 🍆😗

Y’all are such lovers im talking hopeless romantic and that’s shocking to the outside world like you don’t come off as that “type” whatever that means ! Maybe you just aren’t as mushy with those around you but when it comes to that one person or the person (s) you choose to trust your… a dream! It’s Mesmerizing and shocking to those involved . This pile could be undeniably intuitive and that’s a shock value to pretty much everyone you meet , you may not sense when your intuitive nature kicks in but it’s like watching something unfold exactly how you want , it’s so satisfying.

People are shocked that you turn hate or challenges into powerful trophy’s ! You are a true Transmutator you can pretty much bend a lot of things to your will , lol this can truly go a lot of ways but I can see you TRY to keep this asset as positive as possible

I can see people are usually shocked when you tell them the hobbies you're into , I can clearly hear "streaming "or "gaming" !

I also pick up on loving cosplay and it’s shocking when you like magically transform ! It’s pretty cool :) 🧚

Hope you enjoyed ;) 💗

[verstappen-cult]

ALL I WANT, M. VERSTAPPEN

✶ SUMMARY. Max is a jealous man, he can’t help it, but never does a big deal out of it. Sometimes he likes to remind people you’re taken and other times remind you who you belong to. But when he sees you flirting with one of his coworkers, an awful feeling in the pit of his stomach makes him want to cry.

content warnings ✶ disclaimers. fem!reader. hurt/comfort. jealous and insecure max. lewis as a plot device.

GWEN RAMBLES — hello! this was requested by a lovely anon who wanted a little bit of jealous and insecure max. and this is what came out, i hope you all like it! comments & reblogs are greatly appreciated.

If you ask Max, he will admit he’s a jealous man. But it’s just that he doesn’t like seeing people flirting with his girl when they know (and even if they don’t) she’s taken. She’s with him.

But seeing you talking with Lewis has made him feel something strange, something he doesn’t like.

He’s been watching you for about five minutes, after he excused himself to go buy a few more drinks for the table, and you moved closer to Lewis. Max really doesn’t like the way you keep laughing and twirling your hair while Lewis says something that he can’t hear, but wishes to.

Are you flirting with Lewis? Is that what’s happening?

When he sees you throw your head back in a laugh, something ugly twists inside of him.

What does Lewis Hamilton have that he doesn’t? He is an attractive man, Max can admit that. But what are you looking for that Max doesn’t have? He really tries to give you everything, to respect your space and have a good communication. And yes, you have fights and he’s not very proud to admit that he is a difficult man, and sometimes it’s hard to fight against the Verstappen gen, but he tries.

He really fucking tries to be the man you deserve.

Is it because Lewis is more talented? Is it because he has more championships than him? Or maybe it is because he’s having an awful season and can’t seem to move up from fifth place while Lewis has won the last three races in a row? Max doesn’t know, but he doesn’t like feeling this way. He doesn’t like thinking that you’ll definitely be better without him and with someone more easy to talk to, with a lot less trauma maybe, more talented. Just… better than him.

He wants to be at the receiving end of that laugh, of those sparkling eyes. He’s been in the receiving end countless of times, he just hadn’t seen you act that way with anyone else but him. Until today, that is.

Max feels a tight pressure on his chest, a lump in his throat making it almost impossible to swallow, to breathe. He wants to get out of there. The music is too loud, there are too many people around looking at him, smiling at him not knowing that he just wants to wipe that stupid smile off Lewis’ face.

Max thanks the barman and goes back to the table with the drinks, trying to smile through the awful pain in his chest.

He’s never felt this way before. And he doesn’t like it one bit.

“Hey, baby.” You say, turning around to look at him, still smiling. That precious smile of yours.

“I’m gonna head out,” He says, leaving the drinks on the table. Just one look at your face and he feels like crying right then and there, so he looks away only to find the brown eyes of Lando already on him. His friend raises his eyebrows in a silent question, but Max doesn’t feel like lying, not right now. So he looks away once more. “I’ll text you later.”

Max doesn’t wait for your answer, he turns around and walks out of the club as fast as he can. But he doesn’t even make it to his car.

“Max!” Your voice stops him right in his tracks. “what is going on? I came with you, in case you forgot.”

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “You can ask Lewis to give you a ride.” He winces as the words leave his mouth.

“What? No, why would I do that? I came with you and I’m leaving with you.” He can hear the confusion in your voice, can hear you walking closer to him. “Max, did something happen?”

Max doesn’t want you to think that something is wrong, even if there is something wrong.

“I have a terrible headache,” He turns around, a false smile on his lips. “that’s why I need to leave.”

“Oh, baby.” You coo, cupping his cheek, a soft smile gracing your lips. “Let’s go home. I’m gonna take care of you.”

“No, just stay here. I can take care of myself.”

Your hand falls as well as your face, and Max doesn’t feel proud for making you feel bad. But he needs to do something to stop feeling this way.

“Did I do something?” Your voice is barely above a whisper but it’s enough to set Max off.

“Oh, just go and flirt with Lewis!” He lifts his hands, not being able to contain himself. “You were doing an excellent job!” He exclaims, the tightness in his chest becoming unbearable.

You take a step back, your pretty eyes already filling with tears. The hurt in your face making him want to reach out and pull you to him, but the jealous part, the insecure and horrible part of him makes him keep going.

“I saw the way you looked at him, the way you were acting as if he’s the funniest guy in the world!” He lets out a bitter laugh, his own eyes filling with tears.

“I–I don’t understand why you’re doing this.”

He shakes his head, rubbing his hands over his face. “You think he’s better than me, no? Just say it.”

Something crosses your face, something Max can’t make out, but it makes you take a step forward and then another until you’re inches away from his face.

You take his face in your hands, thumbs caressing his cheeks as tears stream down your face. “Thank god you’re pretty because you can be a little dumb sometimes.”

His brow furrows. “What?”

“I was talking to Lewis about you. From the moment you stood up from the table until you came back, I was talking about you.” The soft smile he loves so much comes back to your face. “We were talking about our plans for the summer, and how I’m so nervous to meet your family.”

Max lifts a hand and wipes the tears from your face, the other one finding comfort on your waist. The knot in his stomach slowly disappearing, the pain in his chest still there, still bothering him.

“I was telling him how angry I am with your awful team because they keep messing with the strategies. But that I’m so proud of you for still being in the lead, even after all the fucked up things they’re doing and the shitty car they gave you.” That makes him laugh, and feels a single tear fall. But immediately disappears thanks to you. “And Lewis agrees. He knows how talented you are and that you deserve better. If you saw me smile and do whatever you though I was doing to make you think I was flirting,” You sigh, closing your eyes for a moment. You can’t be angry at him, not when you know where he’s coming from. “I’m sorry but it was because of you. Every time someone compliments you while you’re not around, I can’t help but act like a school girl with a crush. But I’m not flirting with anyone but you. You’re the only one, dummy.”

You’re the only one.

That makes him feel warm all over. Makes his need to cry be for a totally different reason.

He looks down at you, at your pretty face and puffy eyes, your plump rosy lips that he just want to kiss to make sure you’re telling the truth. But for that he only needs to look you in the eyes just one more time and he knows. Because it’s in the way you look at him, a special spark in your eyes every time you make eye contact, every time he tells you something, anything, even the most ordinary thing.

He knows he’s the only one.

“You’re the only one too.” He whispers and you sniff, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. Your laugh against his skin sends shivers down his spine. The laugh he wants to hear for the rest of his life.

“Don’t think, not even for a second, that I’m gonna let this go away as nothing.” Pulling away, you leave a soft kiss on his jaw. “We still need to talk. You need to tell me why you’re feeling this way. It’s not just for what happened tonight.”

Max knows you’re right. But he doesn’t want to have that conversation tonight, and definitely not in the middle of the parking lot.

“Let’s go home.”

“You wanna cuddle, pretty boy?” Max rolls his eyes in annoyance, but doesn’t say no.

do not repost, translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own. | © verstappen-cult, 2024.