#I guess the key is just to start writing it in the middle

[inbabylontheywept]

Hi there! I just read through a few of your long form posts -- the one about the boss and the glue traps and the lizards, the one about the friend and the radishes and the cop, and the one about the breakup and the car and the neighbor's car and your dad -- and I'm just really blown away by your writing. And I'm just curious, are they actual experiences or are they fiction? They read like actual experiences, and the writing is so naturalistic and...idk, low key sweet, stream of consciousness without the major sidetracking that often happens in stream of consciousness writing and also more...more poetical in a way, I guess. I don't know. Are you published or wanting to? I mean I couldn't help with that or anything but if you've got a book out I'd love to read it.

Patrick McManus was kind of THE legendary writer to my family. When my dad was a kid, he'd sit on the porch the door that the monthly copy of Outdoor Life was going to arrive, and as soon as he got it, he'd run in with it and take it to his dad, who would gather all his kids around and read the stories out loud.

My dad loved it because his dad would make a whole performance out of the readings: He'd do voices, pantomimes, dramatic sound effects, the works. The stories are amazing, but the out-of-character behavior from his dad was half the selling point. Grandpa Hank was, to his core, a good man. But he was gruff, and socially, pretty stiff, and he didn't often show emotion. I think my dad said he saw him tear up one time growing up, and it was when he got dropped off at the MTC. My mom was married to my dad for three years before Grandpa Hank was comfortable enough to sit down in their house, and he liked her. That's just how he was.

(You just praised me for not getting sidetracked, but I'm letting myself wander down those memories a bit. He died last year. I miss him terribly.)

Anyway: Those stories were how I first started learning how to spin a yarn. I got older and I got more influence than just cowboys and Westerns, but the soul of my style is still just The American Tall Tale.

Which is to say that they're not outright fabrications. When I say that I cut all the worms up in my backyard and had a panic attack and hid in a tree until my mom got me, that happened. But I only remember the vaguest outlines of the words that were said. When there's a line in that story about my mom telling me that she's sure the worms will forgive me because they got six hearts to love and no bones to pick, that's not how she talks. That's how I talk.

Other stories, they're far less fuzzy than that, but I can still point out things I don't know. Wrestling story was from middle school, and a lot of those "crisp details" are just me painting by vibe. I've had some people that did wrestling through highschool point out things like refs not actually counting to three, or how double-legs are not actually super effective for tall wrestlers. I don't actually know how much the woman I wrestled weighed, nor do I remember how much I weighed, except that I was more than two weight classes smaller than her. Car incident, I got broke up with, went to her parents door, waited on the lawn, and was given some olives to go with a wireless phone. But exact wording of a lot of the people involved fails me. As a rule, the weirder an event is, the more likely I am to be distinctly remembering it and not just filling in the background. Except for dialogue, which often turns out weird because when I have to make up things for other characters to say, it carries too much of my own speaking style in it, and that's always been weird.

There are even points where things do come right off the rails. In the stories about J post, J himself became a sort of mythic figure after he moved, and lot of the stories about him, I don't even know I'm remembering them first hand or second hand from a story someone else shared with me.

I know it would be easier to just go, yeah, they're true, or no, they're not, but I did a weird thing and mixed them up and now even I'm a little confused.

Regarding publishing: I'm not published, and the thought of trying to get published scares the shit out of me. I

I don't know. If anyone has advice, I'd be interested.

[transformers-nerd-13]

And here it is; the final part in my analysis of the first three episodes of season one of G1! The analyses of the first two episodes can be found on my page so go check those out if you're so inclined (I'm still learning tumblr so I don't know how to link posts yet lol). This post will be a bit long, so be warned of that. With that out of the way, let's get into it!

We start with a recap of what happened in the last two episodes to remind the viewer of the events that have taken place.

We're right where we left off with Optimus dramatically rolling down the cliff in awkward slow motion. Once he finally stops rolling, the other Autobots help him up onto his wheels. Optimus isn't worried about himself however; he's more worried about Roller who, incidentally, shows no sign of having been involved in an explosion. Prime struggles to transform back into his bot mode for a few seconds but eventually gets there with some encouragement from his fellow bots. After he transforms, he seems entirely fine, so we're not gonna talk about the blast he took seconds prior. Ratchet comments that "That was some blast you took", reminding Optimus that Bee and Sparkplug are still in the remains of the mines.

After a bit of digging, Jazz finds the two and gets them out with the help of Prowl.

(can we talk about how cute the above screenshots are??) Optimus congratulates Bee and Sparkplug on burying the Decepticons for good. Oh hey, guess what?

The cons are completely fine, their energon cubes are still functional, and they fly out of the mines unscathed. Good job guys.

Ironhide gets (understandably) frustrated and goes after the cons because the Autobots could still fly at this point. Bluestreak goes after Ironhide to stop him, but when Ironhide makes it clear that he's not backing down, Bluestreak joins him in his fight.

Ironhide fires on Skywarp (whether he actually hit him or not I have no clue) and Skywarp teleports behind Ironhide and Bluestreak, firing a missile at them but missing. Bluestreak says "It's like fighting a shadow!" I feel like this is an easily fixable problem--y'all can hover midair; we've seen you do this; you could just turn around and fire back at him??

Skywarp fires and he misses, he fires and he misses, this goes on for several minutes (if anyone gets the reference put it in the comments) until he finally manages to hit Ironhide, who falls from the sky into a conveniently located lake.

Bluestreak goes to rescue Ironhide and all of the other Autobots appear from the void to gawk at the rescue from the shore. Jazz uses his grappling hook like a rescue line once again to reel Bluestreak and Ironhide to shore. Ironhide says that he can't move, but Optimus points out "At least you can still talk old buddy." Despite saying that he can't move, Ironhide moves his arm just fine to emphasize his words while he's telling Ratchet what got damaged on his body. Ratchet transforms into his ambulance mode and Bluestreak and Jazz put Ironhide in the back of Ratchet's alt mode.

Ironhide and Ratchet are the same height with virtually the same alt mode; their toys were just recolors of each other; so how the heck did he fit back there?? Ironhide starts to tell an old war story, but Optimus tells him to "Save the war stories hot shot. Just remember that there's a thin line between being a hero, and being a memory." Which is just a great line. Jazz jokes that maybe Ironhide is ready for a cushy office job (idk how he would even obtain an office job in the middle of a war, let alone on Earth, I doubt he'd even fit in an office building) but Ironhide says he'll be back in action after Ratchet fixes him up. The bots start driving (presumably back to the ark) before we cut to Spike writing in his diary again, this time about how Optimus Prime would make a neat president and honestly? I agree.

Awkward cut to Hound sort of teasing Ravage by holding the key to his cage just out of Ravage's reach. Hound comments that he doesn't think Ravage likes being a prisoner; Mirage says that he can't blame him and that he's surprised that the cons haven't come to rescue him. Hound isn't surprised; the cons don't care about anyone; not even their own. He makes a hologram of Megatron, but it just seems to piss Ravage off. Mirage asks Hound to make him a hologram of a big house with a four car garage when they get back to Cybertron; the holograms look so real that nobody'll know the difference. Mirage. You turn into an F1 racing car. Why do you need a 4 car garage?? Are you going to host a lot of sleepovers when you get back to Cybertron?? And yeah nobody'll know the difference until they try to open a door or go upstairs and their body phases through the hologram.

This gives Hound an idea however; to make a big hologram of a rocket fuel base to trick the cons into coming to the bots on their terms. He shares the idea with autobot high command (aka Prime, Prowl and Jazz) who all agree to it. Hound goes back to tell Mirage about a (fake) secret stash of rocket fuel 140 kilometers due west, telling him that there's enough rocket fuel at that base to make four trips to Cybertron. The two go to tell Ironhide about the base to make him feel better. The two leave but Hound drops the keys to Ravage's cage. Ravage gets ahold of the key, unlocks his cage, and escapes. Hound, Mirage, Prowl and Jazz who were hiding behind a rock (for some reason) see Ravage getting away at the speed of ZOOM. The four go after Ravage but he ends up escaping. The four go back to just outside the Ark where Optimus and Cliffjumper are standing for some reason.

The four tell Optimus that Ravage got away and all look like the shocked Pikachu meme.

It's kind of unclear if they wanted Ravage to escape to trick the cons or not, it's kind of like the writers didn't know either and just never went back to clear it up.

Cut to the cons where Ravage reports back to Megatron about the rocket base Hound was talking about earlier. And we never hear Ravage speak again. Megatron commends Ravage for a job well done. Starscream and Megatron get into it again about Starscream wanting to be leader of the cons. Starscream says that "Now is the time for action, not words! I am the leader of the future!"

Megatron isn't using words though; so far he's only been using action, so this line doesn't make much sense.

Megatron insults Starscream's nonexistent leadership skills and Starscream takes that personally. He tries to shoot Megatron, but Soundwave (who's also there btw) calls out to his leader. Megatron uses a shield that we never see again to block the shot and somehow that one shot made Starscream run out of ammo (I guess he forgot to reload after the fight with the bots??). Megatron threatens to shoot Starscream while Starscream begs Megatron not to shoot him. Megatron shoots him anyway before declaring that the Decepticons would attack the base at sunrise. What is it with the Decepticons and attacking places at sunrise??

Cut to the next day at sunrise when Hound makes the hologram of the rocket base (how he knows what a human rocket base looks like I will never know) and the Decepticons show up immediately after the hologram is made (did they not see him make the hologram??)

The cons attack the hologram rocket base where the Autobots have appeared from the void during the commercial break all wearing lab coats which they quickly ditch to better fight the cons (where did they find such big lab coats and why??).

Not long into the fight, the bots realize that the cons they're fighting are decoys made by the cons out of scrap metal and junk (impressive engineering I guess but how did that work??) and the real Megatron reveals that he was onto the autobot's scheme from the beginning (how. Just how) and that the real cons have been at the real rocket base gathering fuel to make Energon cubes.

But in the next shot we see the cons just arriving at the rocket base. (I guess Megatron overestimated the speed of his soldiers). The humans at the base try to defend themselves but their weapons are completely useless against the cons. The cons get the energon they need and Megatron tells the cons to prepare for blast off.

Cut to the Autobots who have decided to attack the cons directly. Optimus asks for volunteers for the battle ahead and literally every Autobot steps forward; even Spike and Sparkplug volunteer. The bots transform and roll out.

Quick cut to the cons where Megatron talks about how close they are to conquest.

Cut back to the bots who encircle the con's base as the cons board their space cruiser. Before the cons can board, the bots make their presence known and the bots and cons duke it out once again.

Somewhere in the fight, Spike throws a rock at Starscream's blaster hard enough to knock the blaster off his arm (how did he do that??) and Prowl runs over Starscream's blaster rendering it useless. The cons gain a temporary victory over the bots and board the space cruiser while the bots shoot at them but miss horribly because once again everyone in this show has the aim of an absolute Stormtrooper. The cons take off in their new space cruiser. Jazz tells Prime that it's over; they've lost, but Prime says that it's not over yet. He borrows Sideswipe's rocket pack (that we never see again) to go after the con's ship.

Cut to the cons where Megatron says that they've seen the last of the Autobots and Optimus Prime, but Starscream says "Not yet we haven't" as he spots Optimus flying after their ship.

The cons fire on Optimus and actually manage to hit him, sending the Autobot leader plummeting back to earth. He hits the ground pretty hard but claims that he's alright when Prowl and Jazz help him up. The bots then notice that Mirage is missing and seem pretty calm about his not being there.

Cut to the cons where Starscream is trying once again to usurp Megatron (oh hey his blaster is back), who warns Starscream that once he becomes the leader, there will always be someone trying to take leadership from him, which makes me think Megatron is speaking from personal experience here; that’d be interesting. Maybe Megatron was once like Starscream, but he actually succeeded in taking leadership of the cons and regrets it on some level because now there’s a constant target on his back. It's revealed that Mirage snuck aboard the space cruiser and shoots the computers, causing the space cruiser to crash into the ocean. Mirage escapes before it crashes. He makes it back to the bots who congratulate him on defeating the cons.

Optimus commends Mirage for a job well done and Jazz says that they'd better get back to the ship since it still needs repairing. Spike (unprompted) asks Optimus if he can go to Cybertron with the bots when they go back. Optimus basically says "ask your dad" and Sparkplug says that Spike can go so long as he can go too. (Responsible parenting 101. Also how do they know that they’d survive on Cybertron?? Or is NASA getting involved and giving them space suits and food??) The bots transform and roll out.

Cut to later where Spike tells us while he's once again writing in his diary that since the Autobots prevented the Decepticons from stealing earth's resources (did they though? Cause it seems to me the cons got away with that), the governments of the world agreed to give the bots the energy they need to revitalize Cybertron, and that it was probably the first time that all the governments agreed on anything. (Since this was 1984, this was true. The only time--that I'm aware of--that all of the governments of the world ever actually agreed on anything in real life was in 1987; the Montreal Protocol; three years later, so at least that's accurate.)

Optimus tells Spike that they're ready to launch and Spike tells him that he'll be right there. Spike adds one more note in his diary that he's glad they don't have to worry about the cons anymore.

Cut to a shot of the ocean which fades into an underwater shot, showing us the Decepticon space cruiser that shows no sign of having crashed at the bottom of the ocean, as well as Megatron who leaves the cruiser and heads for the surface, leaving us with another cliffhanger.

Spike, you jinxed it.

And that was part three of Transformers; More than Meets the Eye. Just like the other two parts of More than Meets the Eye, it crams a lot into one episode, and a lot of it doesn't really make sense, but it's still a very fun watch. I feel like that's just the way it is when it comes to 80's cartoons.

Anyways, I hope this was enjoyable! My analysis of Fire in the Sky will probably be posted some time in the next few days, so stay tuned!

[kazeharuhime]

Bubblia (& Perloa)

Directly adjoining the Storm Dimension from beneath, there appears to be a previously unknown area of air sea. The air is so thick here it acts similar to a low-density ocean.

The first species to be recorded in this new area is the Bubblia. It would appear that the plant's smaller bubbles move about the surface of its larger one.

In some specimens, these bubbles followed a strict ring pattern, gliding about the surface of the nucleus bubble as a whole with the angle of this movement changing at random intervals. Whether the bubbles move clockwise or counter-clockwise seems to be connected to the water-air currents, switching when there's a shift in the current.

In other, larger specimens, these satellite bubbles were observed to each have their own path, which like the previously documented specimens, only switched their clockwise/counter-clockwise direction when the air-water currents shifted.

The the first type of specimens have been dubbled Ringia Bubblias. These were observed to have smaller central bubbles than the larger specimens with freer satellites.

Whether Ringia Bubblias are their own separate species or merely a juvenile version of the larger specimen type is still a topic of much debate, as there has yet to be observed any juveniles behaving like the larger specimen type.

On the one hand, there has been no noticeable change in behavior pattern of the known Ringia Bubblia specimens since their initial discovery. This does not discredit the notion of a maturation event still being on the horizon for any one of them, nor does it negate the possibility that the larger specimens are genetically nonviable offshoots of the Ringia Bubblia species, as it has yet to be observed how these larger specimens reproduce.

On the other, there are many indicators that Ringia Bubblias are the descendants of the larger specimens and not the other way around. For one thing, the larger specimens show evidence of being much older than the Ringias. The large specimens often have a somewhat central position in their patch, and tend to only exist in the singular per patch. This would give credence to the idea that the Ringias are desendants.

However, it still does not explain the behavioral differences and the fact that no Ringia has been observed maturing into the larger specimen type.

One hypothesis states that the larger specimen type acts as a sort of a queen or ruler over the smaller Ringias. This would explain why there can only be one large specimen type per patch.

It is also hypothesized that each satellite bubble on the larger specimen type corresponds to the movement of a ring somewhere in the patch, but this has yet to be sufficiently backed up with evidence.

Other than these two primary specimens, there has been another feature observed in Bubblia patches, and that is the presence of one of a third type of specimen, the Perloa, in every patch.

Unlike the first two, Perloas do not appear to be too closely related to either specimen type. They grow an opaquer, solider sphere in lieu of bubble nucleus and appear to maintain petal-like bracts even after fruiting. No external flowers were observed in either of the two Bubblia specimen types, and the primary bubble in each one seemed to form almost in place of sepals just below the base of flowers. Bubblias are thought to be related to Aquabulla genus by various points of evidence, and it is currently hypothesized that Perloas may be a hybird of the Perloa Alnia and Yura Aquabulla based on its appearance. However, this is at best speculation, and it is not yet clear if there really is a direct connection between the two species, or if they merely bear a resemblance to both and have a more indirect connection to the Aquabullas, much less the Perloa Alnias.

The fruit of the Perloa is not thought to be edible, but from their shiny appearance, it is thought they could become a collector's item in the future. This difference in taste is sometimes brought up as an argument against their being closely related to the Perloa Alnia, despite them both sharing the word "Perloa" in their name.

[vanteguccir]

Thinking about boyfriend Matt that has a girlfriend that lives by herself and everytime she gests new forniture, she calls him like "Baby, can you come put this together for me? Thank you". I also think she would try to help and Matt would be tottally against it (not sure about this last part tho). Please write this.

── ୨୧ !　BLURB

matt sturniolo x reader

where Y/N loves to buy new furniture for her home, and Matt is the one she always goes to to ask to put it together <3

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Y/N had a knack for making her little apartment feel like home. Every few weeks, she'd spot something online; a new bookshelf, a cozy chair, or a quirky table, and decide that it was exactly what her space needed. But there was one catch: she wasn’t exactly a pro at assembling furniture. That’s where Matt came in.

The late afternoon sunlight filtered through the curtains of Y/N’s living room as she admired the large box that had just been delivered. It was a new coffee table, one she’d been eyeing for weeks. Knowing full well that she wasn’t going to tackle it on her own, she reached for her phone.

"Hey, baby." Y/N's voice was warm and playful as Matt answered on the first ring.

"Hey, dove. What’s up?" Matt replied, his tone softening at the sound of her voice.

Y/N glanced at the box.

"I got a little something for the living room. Think you could come over and help me put it together?"

Matt chuckled, already grabbing his car keys.

"Let me guess, another piece of furniture?"

"You know me too well." She grinned. "But yes, please? I promise to make us dinner afterward."

"On my way." Matt said without hesitation, already heading out the door. The thought of seeing her, even if it was to assemble something as simple as a coffee table, was more than enough to make his day.

About twenty minutes later, Matt arrived at Y/N’s apartment, greeted by her bright smile and the unmistakable excitement in her eyes. She stood in the doorway, barefoot and wearing one of his oversized hoodies; something that made Matt’s heart do a little flip every time he saw her in it.

"Thanks for coming." Y/N said, stepping aside to let him in. She watched as Matt eyed the box in the middle of the living room.

"Another project, huh?" He teased, approaching the box.

"Yeah, but I promise this is the last one for a while." Y/N laughed, knowing full well she’d probably find something new soon enough. She kneeled beside him, ready to help.

Matt quickly shook his head, gently nudging her hand away from the box.

"Uh-uh, you just sit back and relax, okay? I’ve got this."

"But I want to help!" Y/N protested, though there was no real determination in her voice. She knew he loved doing things like this for her on his own.

"No way." Matt insisted, his tone gentle but firm. He gave her a playful look, then tapped her nose lightly. "I can handle it. Just sit on the couch and look pretty while keeping me company. That’s all I need from you."

Y/N sighed, feigning disappointment, but the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her. She settled onto the couch, tucking her legs beneath her as she watched him. There was something incredibly comforting about the way Matt moved around her space, confidently taking charge of the task. His broad shoulders flexed beneath his shirt as he opened the box and started laying out the pieces.

"How do you even know what all these parts are?" Y/N asked, genuinely impressed as Matt made quick work of organizing the screws, panels, and tools.

Matt shrugged, flashing her a grin.

"Just good at following instructions, I guess. Plus, it’s kind of fun."

"Fun?" Y/N echoed with a laugh. "You’re putting together furniture, not playing a game."

"Maybe." He said, glancing over at her, his eyes full of warmth. "But it’s for you, so that makes it fun."

Her heart swelled at his words. Watching Matt carefully assemble the table, piece by piece, she couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of gratitude. It wasn’t just about the furniture; it was about the way he cared for her, the way he was always there to help without a second thought. It was the little things, like how he’d insist on doing the heavy lifting, or how he’d make sure every screw was tightened perfectly so she wouldn’t have to worry about anything.

After a while, the coffee table began to take shape. Y/N couldn’t resist getting up and kneeling beside him again, pretending to inspect his work.

"Looks good." She remarked, trying to keep her tone serious.

"Of course it does." Matt said with a chuckle. "I’m a professional."

She leaned in closer, teasingly brushing her fingers against his biceps.

"Maybe I should double-check, you know, just in case."

Matt rolled his eyes, but his smile was wide.

"If you want, but I guarantee it’s perfect."

Y/N gave him a look of mock suspicion before placing a soft kiss on his cheek.

"I trust you."

Matt’s hands paused for a moment, his eyes flickering to her with a mix of affection and pride. He reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"You better."

With the table finally assembled, Matt stood up, stretching his arms above his head, his pink shirt riding up slightly, displaying his tummy to Y/N’s eyes.

"Done." He announced, stepping back to admire his work.

Y/N clapped her hands together, genuinely impressed.

"It looks amazing, baby. Thank you."

"Anything for you." Matt replied, his voice sincere. He watched as Y/N excitedly placed a few decorative items on the table, her eyes lighting up at how perfectly it fit into her living room.

"Okay, now that you’ve put that together…" Y/N began, trailing off as she looked at him with a playful smirk.

Matt raised an eyebrow, sensing where this was going.

"Oh no, what else did you order?"

Y/N laughed, wrapping her arms around his waist and leaning her head against his chest.

"Nothing… yet."

Matt shook his head, smiling down at her.

"You’re lucky I love you."

"I know." Y/N murmured, looking up at him with pure adoration. "And I’m so lucky to have you."

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[writingmar]

hi, can I request the combination A2 and F7 for Spencer Reid smut prompts, please?? Thanks <333

'𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞.'

𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘪𝘥 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

Prompt A2: dryhumping + F7: in a car - (prompts lists)

after a long day of working a case, one of the BAU cars broke down, which means that all six of you have to pile into a five person car. luckily, spencer offers his lap for you as a seat...

wc: 1.1k

content & tw: sensual fluff, public, dry humping.

a/n: this is much tamer than my usual writing but i rlly enjoyed it!

'oh, for fucks sake,' JJ says as she turns the key in the ignition. the car sputters and shakes with all its might but it doesn't start. 'i'm never renting from this company again, this thing has been having issues the entire time.'

'here, let me try,' you say as you bend over the center console to try the key for yourself, but obviously, it doesn't change anything. JJ grabs her phone and calls someone. 'hey, rossi, our car has broken down, could we hitch a ride to the hotel..? yeah, i know, we'll squeeze in... great, thanks, we'll see you in a minute.'

'don't the boys have a five-seater?' you ask as JJ hangs up the phone. she looks over at you with a sweet smile. 'yeah, but like i said, we'll squeeze in. and besides, i've been seeing you eye spencer, and he'll be polite enough to offer you a seat.'

you feel your cheeks heat and tell JJ to shut up, but you know damn well she's right. you have been eyeing spencer for a while. in fact, you've been doing more than that. unspoken moments together in hallways, soft touches during long days which end in secret randez-vous in hotel rooms late at night. during those meetings, spencer shows a different side of himself, the built up sensual tension from the entire day unloading onto you, and you know he loves that day long chase.

when the boys pull up, rossi is in the passenger seat with hotch driving. spencer and derek sit in the backseat. when derek opens the door and moves to the middle seat, you can already hear spencer rambling. 'driving with too many people in the car, particularly with one person sitting on another's lap, poses significant safety risks and is illegal in many places. the likelihood of severe injury or death increases for all passengers when seat belts are not used properly. according to the CDC, seat belt use reduces the risk of death by 45% and the risk of serious injury by 50% for front-seat occupants. For those in the rear seats, the reduction in risk of death is 25%.'

you smile as you hear his voice, JJ already having taken derek's spot, meaning the car is now full. you open the door at spencers seat, 'well, then i guess i'll sit in one of the rear seats, seeing as that cuts my risk of death in half,' you say, moving yourself to sit in spencers lap.

'no, wait, that's not what i meant, i just-' spencer starts to ramble again, his cheeks warming as you sit yourself down on his legs. derek cuts him off and says, 'well then you better hold on tight, pretty boy. be her seat belt.'

spencer looks confused and a bit panicked for a second, but when hotch starts the car, he wastes no time and wraps his arms around you. 'kids, behave back there,' he says as he pulls away.

rossi starts talking to hotch about today's case, a serial killer in the midwest, while JJ keeps derek's eyes on her in conversation. you and spencer are in a little bubble, even with four others in the car, no one is focussed on the two of you.

every time hotch turns a corner or hits a speed bump, your ass moves slightly over spencers crotch, and you feel his arms tighten around you. the drive will be about half an hour, but you can tell its going to be the longest thirty minutes of your life when you start to feel something growing underneath you.

you turn your head to look at spencer, who stares straight ahead. you always wonder what happens in his mind, but especially now. after another speed bump, he closes his eyes and his lips part slightly as you feel a twitch under you.

you start to grin, his desperate attempts to keep himself composed absolutely adorable. you decide to push your luck, grinding yourself down on him subtly. he moves one hand to your hip, grabbing it tightly and stilling you. you're afraid you might have gone too far.

when you look back at him, he is no longer staring forward. his eyes are fixed on you, and he starts to pull your hip back and forth. you open your mouth slightly in a surprised gasp, not expecting him to be so bold.

JJ and derek's chatter beside you, rossi and hotch's in front, and the two of you completely silent. the radio plays softly, and you're sure nobody is actually listening, but you will never be able to listen to this song like you used to before. taylor swift's 'wildest dreams' is now the soundtrack to an intimate moment between you two, and you know you'll remember this whenever you hear it again.

spencer keeps his movements subtle and slow, not pulling any attention to the two of you. the tension is almost palpable, and you truly hope nobody notices, but the people in this car are bold enough to say something if they do.

every soft gasp coming from spencer's lips, ever small furrow as his brow, but especially every bit of movement and every twitch from his cock makes you wetter and wetter, and you know damn well that you won't be alone in your hotel room tonight.

his hand that's not on your hip holds onto you tightly, squeezing the skin on your side as he desperately tries to get you closer, maybe even to get you alone.

the drive seems to last forever, but when the car comes to a halt, it feels like only 5 minutes have passed. you hadn't realised how much you had been pulled into the moment, and judging by spencers sigh, he hadn't either.

'well we made it. go to sleep, everyone. this case is far from closed,' hotch says as you all climb out of the car. you smile at spencer, his eyes still fixed on you. 'get some rest, spence, i'll see you tomorrow.'

derek takes one look at you two and smiles at the floor. as you walk towards the door, you hear derek talk to spencer, mocking your words, 'yeah, reid, get some rest.'

'shut up,' spencer said, his voice cracking slightly on the nerves, but you know that in about thirty minutes, he will be knocking on your hotel room door and he will be everything but for nervous...

[xeeljii]

I need joost whimpering into my neck so bad its not even funny anymore IM GNAWING AT THE BARS OF MY ENCLOSURE (touching grass rn thanks)

can i write a little something .... ( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈♡)

WARNING! Explicit RPF! 

CW: 18+, f! reader, dry humping sorry im in my dry humping era, drunk! Joost, established relationship, needy so needy Joost.

Late at night the window to your shared apartment is still open letting a little breeze in, it is the middle of summer and you are just laying on the living room couch watching TV ready for bed when you finally hear the ring of the doorbell. Joost had been gone since the midday with his friends and now so late you guessed he must have had a good day if he wasn't even able to use his keys.

You get up, turn the TV off and open the door with a soft smile on your lips, he is hanging between Appie and Stunje, red to the tip of his ears and so obviously drunk. His eyes are closed, his face is hanging low, he looks like a rag doll as both his friends hold him trying to keep him from falling, you laugh slightly at the sight.

"Thanks for bringing him home." You say voice low to not wake him but as soon as the words leave your mouth he raises like coming back to life at the sweet familiar sound of you.

He opens his eyes quickly, pupils unfocused and hair all tousled on his forehead. He smiles brightly his whole face lighting up and the so beloved dimples appearing.

"Liefde!" He all but screams as he lets go of the shoulders of his friends and throws himself all over you.

He is never mindful of his size even less so when he is drunk, he rests all his weight on you and you do everything to hold him and not fall backwards. You place a hand securely on his back as he rubs his face against your neck, he bends down in an awkward position to sniff at your perfume. You feel yourself blush quickly when he starts placing kisses on the exposed skin still very aware of the presence of his friends who break in laughter when they realize what he is doing.

But he doesn't care, he can't care when you smell so nice and feel so good and soft under his hands.

"I'm so sorry." You say mortified, they just continue laughing before Appie speaks.

"This one kept whining about missing you at the bar then when we got in the taxi he kept trying to call you but couldn't figure out how to unlock his phone so he threw a fit." You can see the image so clear in your mind it is so embarrassing and so adorable all at the same time.

"You are his screensaver you knew that right?" You blush deeply, you didn't know, but it is not surprising Joost is practically bordering on obsessed with you.

Joost is holding you tightly and shamelessly planting kisses on your warm skin completely ignoring the conversation happening right in front of him, then he gets bolder and starts sneaking his hand right under your sleeping camisole. You wince.

"Okay we are leaving." Stunje says saving you any further embarrassment you throw him an apologetic smile and a thank you before everyone says their goodbyes and leaves.

When the door is finally closed you can breath a little easier, you pull hard at Joost's shirt trying to peel him off you.

"You are such a handful." You say, so much love dripping from your tone it comes out with no bite.

"I missed you~" He whines into you stretching the last syllable.

"I can see." You start pulling him towards the bed room, he stays pressed close to you not allowing you to leave his embrace even by an inch.

When you get to the bed he finally releases you a bit but only to push you down onto the mattress, you fall with a soft thud in the middle.

"Hey!" You chide.

"I missed my baby." He says with furrowed eyebrows standing over you, he is so whiny when he is drunk, he is so clingy and so needy.

"Just take your clothes off and come to bed." You say rolling your eyes, you do have work early and whatever he is trying to get at can't happen.

He quickly does as he is told and starts crawling on top of you only on his boxers.

"I have work in the morning." You remind him softly before he gets ahead of himself.

"I know." He mumbles, cute little pout adorning his puffy lips. But knowing doesn't stop him from much and he makes himself a little place between your legs wrapping the muscle around his hips before he lets himself fall right on top of you.

"You can't sleep like that, you are crushing me." You pull lightly at his hair to get him to move but he doesn't and you already know that he won't.

"I really missed you." He says in that airy breathy tone that has you dampening in your panties.

He reaches a hand over your camisole stopping over your breast, his head is pressed right against the crook of your neck. He starts softly massaging at the mound of fat over the fabric and you can't help but sigh at his touch. He is kissing at the sensitive skin over your pulse and licking intently to pull more sounds from you.

"Joost." You whine unsure if you are asking for more or chiding him again, but he just likes the way you say his name so it only spurs him on.

He feels the nipple harden against the soft fabric and wants to touch directly so bad, he pulls his hand away before moving it to the hem of your shirt and pulling it up all over your breasts. At that he finally pulls slightly away from you just so he can admire at your beautiful forms, without even touching him he is already twitching in his boxers and a dark wet spot forms at the fabric of his underwear.

"So pretty." He says before he bends down chasing back after your warmth again.

He goes straight for your nipple wraps his lips around the sensitive skin and starts sucking as much of you into his mouth as he can, his other hand massages at your chest. His hips start moving against yours, he is grinding hard against your pelvis, moaning agains your tit on his mouth and groping hard at the other one with his big warm palm. You involuntarily start grinding back, back slowly rising from the mattress to match his pace.

You feel him so hard against your core, his length pushing right against the fabric of your shorts, he is breathing so heavy against your chest nose buried against your skin moaning as he sucks on you. He keeps rubbing himself on you, harder, faster, he is going to crush you, you really feel his whole weight on you as he wildly uses your smaller frame to get off. You feel him twitching even between the layers of fabric still separating you, you already know his body so well.

He pulls away from your nipple, grabs with both hands at your waist moving you harder against his body, you feel his hips start to stutter, he bends down again and searches for your neck, he is panting and leaving wild kisses and love bites everywhere he can reach, he can't help himself he needs to mark you so bad right now, alcohol high on his bloodstream he forgets any reservation.

"Let me come." He says in a whisper accentuated by a hard thrust.

"Can I come baby?" He asks sweetly as he licks under your ear.

"Please" He whines against the sensitive skin of your neck, you feel his deep voice sending waves directly to your cunt, you are so wet, your clit is so hard and throbbing at his words alone.

"Please touch me." He whimpers right against your hair.

"Please touch my dick." He is begging now, so close, just needs a little help, just needs the smallest touch from his sweet kind girlfriend to get off.

And who are you to deny him?

So you move a hand low between the two of you, reach inside his boxers, you don't even bother pulling them down and just stroke him hard and fast, your hand clenching around him tightly just how he likes it and twisting around the tip. Just within a few movements he is coming, on your hand, on his underwear, on your pajamas. Long white stripes dirtying everything with delicious heat.

"I love you, I love you, I love you." He continues mewling against your throat as he weakly thrust against your palm with the last waves of his climax.

He pulls enough strength to kiss your lips messily before he finally collapses onto you with a deep content sigh.

You still feel yourself throbbing inside your shorts but before you realize it he is already fallen deep asleep holding softly at your tit with a big warm hand. Sleeping so peacefully like an angel, like he didn't just use you to get off. You roll your eyes with so much fondness.

"You really are a handful." You say almost in disbelief kissing at his cheek as his face rests pressed on your neck breathing softly.

You pull your hand away and wipe it on the duvet. He is going to have to wash that tomorrow, and your pajamas and his boxers, it is his fault it all got dirty. And he will probably wake you up with head as an apology for leaving you high and dry and you will most likely not make it to work on time because he won't be happy with making you come just one time, no, for the grieve offense of not making you finish he will want to pull as many orgasms from you as he can before you are begging for him to let go, all overstimulated and pretty on his mouth. But all of those are problems for tomorrow you, so you just wrap your arms around him and pull him closer before his comforting weight over your body on you drags you to sleep.

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

A/N: idk where this came from idk lol not proof read etc

ps. this is not THE DRY HUMPING fic this is just me being insane

[vintagesuga]

Cuddle Party - Ot8

Genre: Huge fluff, Hybrid A.U

Paring: Polyamorus Ot8 x gn! reader

Warning: Polyamory, brief mentions of food

a/n: I meant to post this ages ago, but ya know 🤷🏻‍♀️. It's just kinda hard to keep consistency with my writing, and I hate that :( I want to write more. Also, this is proofread, but still let me know of any mistakes. It is greatly appreciated!!

Coming home to a quiet house wasn't all that unusual. There were sometimes when you could get some peace, but living with 8 hybrids, it was very rare for said peace. The calmest thing you had come home to was them talking about who knows what in the living room.

Kicking off your shoes and hanging up your coat, you placed your keys on the hook by the door. You moved sluggishly as you locked the door and padded into the living room. Before you could make it in all the way, however, a soft ball of fur startled you as it slinked in between your feet. You looked down, making sure you wouldn't kick it, as you quickly caught yourself on the wall. An orange tabby looked up at you, meowing at you like nothing happened. Like the little demon didn't just almost kill you. But you should have guessed he would greet you at the door. He always did.

"Hi to you too, Minho." You said as you reached down to pet him. He met you halfway, butting his head in your hand. "Where are the others?"

Minho didn't answer you. He just started to stroll down the hall. He then looked back at you, trilling at you as if to tell you to follow. You followed behind him as he climbed the stairs and made his way to your bedroom. All the while, he would look back, making sure you were still following.

Your bedroom door was cracked open slightly, just big enough for an animal to slip in. You pushed it open all the way now, trying to be somewhat quiet. The sight that greeted you was absolutely heart meltingly sick.

There on your bed were all your beloved hybrids. All snuggled up to each other, taking up most of the space on your bed. Each one was in their animal form, the mass of fur rising and falling with their breathing. It was cute. You resisted the urge to coo at them, not wanting to disturb their sleep.

Hyunjin, your panther hybrid, was stretched out just below your pillows. With his legs spread toward the middle of your bed, he looked as if he wanted to take up as much space as possible. In the space between his neck and shoulder was a tiny brown ball. It would seem Jisung, your chipmunk hybrid, thought Hyunjin made for a good pillow. I mean, who could blame him? You had done the same thing once or twice. Jisung was curled in on himself, taking up as little space as possible. It was funny, seeing the difference between the two of them.

In the middle of the bed lay a mass of multi-colored fur. A beagle, fennec fox, and Australian Mist. Seungmin, the beagle, was facing your closet. His back against Jeongin's who faced the opposite wall. Jeongin, the fox, was curled up in a ball. His large ears lay flat against his head and his fluffy tail covering his snout. Felix, your other cat hybrid, also had his back facing the other two, and much like Jeongin, he too was curled up in a ball. What was funny was that on top of all three hybrids lay Changbin. The bunny hybrid had somehow burrowed his way into the junction at their backs. His feet faced Seungmin and every so often would thump against the poor puppy. Although the puppy didn't seem to mind.

Chan, ever the caring pack leader, had taken up the space at the foot of the bed. Curled up with his snout in his tail, the wolf hybrid faced the bedroom door as if to protect his pack. His eyes were on you, and his ears would twitch in your direction every so often. There, by his head, the sheets were disrupted, and you suspected that's where Minho was lying. Offering his silent support to your pack leader.

Like I said earlier, it was an adorable sight to behold. All your hybrids cuddled up together on your bed. Note that your bed is big enough that at least two or three of them could be in human form. I mean, that's the whole reason you bought a king-sized bed. Curiously, though, they all decided to sleep in their animal form, more than likely just for convenience.

You carefully snapped a photo, sharing it with the group chat, before quietly making your way to the bathroom. You stopped by your dresser, grabbing a change of clothes.

When you came back out of the bathroom, nothing changed. Minho had just laid back down in his spot, butting his head softly against Chan's. Like he was reassuring him that everything was ok, it was just you. No threats.

You smiled. Times like this, it's what you lived for. Just the domesticity of it all melted your heart. All of you are so different, yet you worked so cohesively, like you were just extensions of each other. Made for one another. It just made you beyond happy.

Quietly, you slunk out of the bedroom, going back downstairs to eat. You would join the fur pile later, maybe even convince one of them to cuddle in their human form. More than likely, Felix or Jisung. For now, however, you needed food. Craving the Jajangmyeon Minho texted you about earlier. You ate relatively slow, and your moves are sluggish. Your exhaustion is setting in gradually.

By the time you finished and cleaned up the dishes, it was nearing 10 pm. So you made your way back upstairs after double-checking locks and lights. Back in your room, the fur pile seemed to have shifted only slightly. Changbin now cuddled up in Felix’s paws. Jeongin had stretched out, and Seungmin was now facing the door more.

Hyunjin was a rock and didn't move an inch. Jisung had gotten hot and splayed out on your pillows, his bushy tail flicking every now and again. You chuckled, shuffling over to the side of the bed before deciding to disturb them. You didn't want to, but you needed to sleep too.

“Alright you moochers. Pack it up and move, I need in here.” You softly nudged Hyunjin's head. Hoping he would get the memo and at least wake up enough to move.

He huffed, moving his head but making no progress in waking up. So you patted his body a little harder. It earned you a growl as he started to shift, which in turn made everyone else shift. Hyunjin's weight disturbing the bed.

Jeongin let out a yawn as he woke up. Pawing at his face before realizing you were there. He jumped up almost instantly, shoving his face in your hands. Jisung startles awake, making a noise as he hops down from the pillows stretching and moving off the bed.

The others showed their enthusiasm in various ways. Nuzzling against you and cuddling up around you, something that was easier in animal form. Jisung had come out of the bathroom, hugging you from behind as he pressed his face in your neck. Mumbling his hellos against your skin. Chan waited patiently. He had transformed into his human form a bit ago. Waiting for the others to have their turns first.

“How was work?” He greeted you with a peck to your lips. Hearing a couple of groans from those who had shifted. Seungmin made a comment about needing to throw up. Like he wasn't just peppering your face earlier.

You groaned at the mention of work. “It was ok. Had to sit through a dumb meeting that they could have just summed up in an email.”

“That's how it is, though. They just want to make sure you hear it, I guess.” Chan chuckled as you rolled your eyes.

“I guess. It's just so boring, and now I'm tired and just wanting cuddles.”

You flopped on the bed, mindful of those who were still lying down. You got comfy in the middle, opening up either side of you to anyone who wanted cuddles. Jisung dove at the opportunity, nuzzling up to your side as he tangled his limbs with yours. It had been a while since he had his turn with you.

That's how you all worked. Taking turns being cuddled up with each other. Since you couldn't shift into an animal, you were often in the middle of some cuddle sandwiches. The others could shift so they could shimmy themselves wherever there was space. You all had your own rooms but it was nice sleeping all together sometimes. Changbin and Jisung, especially, loved making nests in your bed.

“Why were you all in my room?” You asked as Hyunjin took up the space on your other side. His long arms snake around your waist, pulling you into his chest.

“Cause we missed you. And your scent is strongest here.” He mumbled into your hair, already falling back asleep.

“I wasn't even gone that long.”

“Yeah but still. Missed you.” Jisung pressed a kiss to your forehead.

It was easiest for Hyunjin and Jisung to be the ones in human form when all nine of you slept together. Since they were the biggest and smallest in animal form. The others curled up along the bed in various places. It was hot, sure, that's why you dressed so loosely, but you wouldn't have it any other way.

This was home.

©️vintagesuga Do not repost.

[fishermanshook]

ASK: pretty pretty please… fools gold.. smut if you can.. I CANT KEE EDGING TO HIM WHENEVER I MATCH AGAINST HIM 😞💻 I GOTTA TAKE HIS CRYSTAL ROCK COCK

ROCK HARD!

( fools gold sex h/c’s ) + gn!reader

# MINOR WRITING SMUT , grammar and spelling warning

INTRO

I suppose it is your fault, you shouldn’t have underestimated your boyfriend's ability to fuck you raw in his bedroom, not caring who hears either of you or if his Survivor counterpart walks in as you do it on his bed. 

His opposite shouldn't be back for a while though, as he's stuck in a match against that Ivy chick. Guess you'll just have to stick it out for a while, huh? Don't worry, he'll make it worth the wait. 

꒰wc꒱ 535

🪨⛏ | Fools Gold who is undoubtedly rough with you in the bedroom. Leaving marks in their wake decorated across your soft and delicate flesh unlike his own. Bruises from your last session have only just started to fade away to make room for more to come.              (He doesn't mean to hurt you, it's just that you're so much tinier than he is and he can't help but toy with you a bit.)

↳ on top of this, jealousy runs through the Hunter's veins. The cuts and bruises and hickeys and whatever else he does to mark you up is an indication of who and what you belong to. He can’t stand watching you interact with the other Survivors and, hell, that pesky Prospector who takes up far too much of your time. Time that could be better spent splitting you in half. 

🪨⛏ | Fools Gold is such a tease too. He'll mess around with your tiny little body and force you to leave for your match all hot and bothered. It's all part of the plan though because it means you'll just come crawling back to him for relief, not realizing what you're getting yourself into. 

🪨⛏ | Fools Gold who loves to get messy in bed and uses his hands and fingers to make you cum 1, 2, 3 too many times, leaving your body overstimulated and all too sensitive to his rough touch. It doesn't matter how many times you beg or whine or claw at the rocks on his back, he doesn't stop. 

🪨⛏ | Fools Gold who is always the one on top. It doesn't matter if you start it or end it, you'll always manage to find him towering over you with that same devilish smirk that adorns his face. 

🪨⛏ | Fools Gold who has the stamina of a 10-time gold place Olympian runner. He can go all night and then morning and then night again if called for. But know that once he starts, he won’t stop. The little sympathy he has goes toward calling it a night after round 5 or after you've passed out in his arms. He gets it, it's hard having a boyfriend who could last longer than he could. (Norton.)

The sound of keys unlocking the door pulls you from your aroused state as both you and Fools Gold turn your head toward the door. 

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me." Norton sighs while turning his head up towards the roof. 

"Speak of the devil, could you leave? We're kind of in the middle of something." Fools Gold says, still halfway inside you as you cover your body in embarrassment. 

"That’s it, both of you, OUT!" 

note: I picked this up b/c I thought it'd be interesting especially because I've never written for him before,,,also annon im going to haunt your dreams now b/c you didn’t read rules (I’m calling you rocky annon now if you ever decide to send in something else)

also you guys help I have 37 (36 after this post) drafts

(2024) ©️fishermanshook — do not steal, translate, plagiarize, or repost my work on any other platform

[celandeline]

I'm thinking about Carl being insecure about his eye. y/n found a way to comfort him. Imagine what comic Lydia did, LOL. But just write whatever you like

i got a little carried away with this one, so it's going to be a two-parter (sorry)

also- comic Lydia sticking her tongue in his eye socket haunts me like the plague because i can't decide if it's disgusting, or i too, would do that given the opportunity

Believe Me

Carl Grimes X Reader [part two]

You always make a point to see Aaron off when he’s about to leave to go recruiting. You know that he can handle himself, that he’s done this a million times before, that Daryl would never leave him behind, even if things got sticky - but you never know. Coming back alive is never guaranteed. 

You hold his bag for him while he fumbles with the car keys until it unlocks. “You’re sure you don’t want to take anything else? Another water bottle? More protein bars?”

He turns around to take his pack from you with a smile. “We’re only going to be gone for two days, I think I’ll be alright with just this.”

The rumble of Daryls bike announces his presence before he rolls up beside the car, stopping. “Y’ready?” He gruffs. 

“Almost.” He tosses his bag into the passenger seat before turning to back to you with open arms. “Give me a hug.”

You squish yourself into his chest, and squeeze him as tight as you can. “Bye Dad. Be safe.” 

You feel him swallow, and hold you a little tighter. Calling him Dad is still a little new, and it makes him tear up a little more often than not. He’s not your biological father - no, your biological parents died years ago at this point - but he has become a father to you, ever since you started living with him and Eric. 

“You too.” He says, pulling back to look you in the eye. “And make sure Eric doesn’t try the stairs alone again please. He’s not as good at maneuvering in that boot as he thinks he is.”

You grin, and jokingly salute. “Yes sir.”

He slips into the driver's seat, and then he and Daryl are pulling away, heading towards the gates. You watch them go until they round the corner, and try to put your nerves to rest. The sound of plastic wheels on the sidewalk is a welcome distraction, and you turn around to see Carl pushing Judith along in the stroller.

He smiles when you turn around, and you return the gesture. “They’re going out again?” He asks, nodding in the direction your dad and Daryl went. 

“Yeah.” You say. “Only for a couple days this time, but you know.” You never really know when you’re coming back. If you’re coming back. 

He nods, and Judith gurgles happily in her stroller, reaching for the hem of your shirt. “You wanna join?” He asks. “M’ just taking her around the cul de sac before I bring her home for her nap.”

“Sure.” You say, welcoming the distraction from worrying about if this is the time that Aaron doesn’t come back. You fall into step beside Carl as he pushes the stroller along, following the sidewalk, passing by the houses of friends and neighbors. It’s quiet, the middle of the day with most of the adults at work - whatever that may be. It almost feels like you, Carl, and Judith are the only people in this whole town. 

“You think you’re gonna do that?” Carl asks. “Go recruiting with Aaron when they decide we’re old enough for real jobs?”

“I don’t know.” You say, honestly. “I mean, I guess I wouldn’t worry so much if I was with him, but then Eric would worry twice as much. And I don’t have a whole lot of experience out there - I was only on my own for a couple of months before Aaron found me and brought me here. You’d be good though,” You glance over at him. “I mean, you’ve got loads of experience out in the real world.”

He shakes his head. “Nah- I mean, yeah I’m experienced, but I don’t think they want the kid with the mangled face being the one to go make first impressions on new people.” He grins, halfheartedly joking, “Don’t want to scare ‘em off.”

“Huh?” You laugh, looking over at him. “What’re you talking about?”

He rolls his eye. “C’mon.” He says. “I know what I look like. Sending the ugly guy out there to try and recruit people probably isn’t the best image for our group.”

“Carl.” You say, brow furrowing. “Do you know what you look like?” You’re so confused - sure, he’s missing an eye, but he’s still the prettiest boy you’ve ever seen. The eye that he still has is the kind of blue that makes you think of the sky on a sunny day, and you’d kill for hair like his - long and silky and a dark brown that makes his blue eye stand out even more. He looks like a fairy tale prince. 

He glances at you. “You’re looking at me like I’m stupid.”

You laugh. “I mean how could you not be, when-” 

“Wow, thanks.” He snarks, cutting you off. 

“Shut up.” You say, knocking your shoulder into his. “I was trying to say that you’re the prettiest boy I’ve ever seen, before you interrupted me.”

You words hang in the air, and he looks steadfastly ahead. The only sounds are the plastic stroller wheels rolling on the sidewalk, and Judith’s occasional little noises. You can see a blush rising to his cheeks, and bite your lip to stop yourself from smiling, lest he think you’re making fun of him. 

“You’re just saying that ‘cause we’re friends, and you’re trying to be nice.” He says. 

“‘M not.” You insist. “It’s true - you’re really pretty, Carl.”

He still won’t look at you. “Half my face is just a hole.”

“Which just makes you look cool and badass.” You say, trying to peer around his curtain of hair to get him to look at you. He still won’t look at you, and the redness on his face has only gotten worse. “You still don’t believe me.”

He shakes his head, slowing as you reach the steps up to the porch of his house. He walks around to the front of the stroller to unbuckle Judith and lift her out of the seat. She slumps against his shoulder, obviously ready for her nap. “Um.” Carl looks down at the stroller. “Could you-?”

“Gotcha.” You say, folding up the stroller and carrying it up the porch steps after Carl. He opens the door and you follow him inside, gently kicking it shut behind you. “Where-?”

“Uh, we usually just leave it by the door.” He says over his shoulder as he starts up the stairs. “Let me just put her down-” He disappears around the bend in the landing, and you prop the folded stroller against the wall next to the door. You loiter at the bottom of the stairs until Carl appears at the top again, still a little pink. 

He comes down the steps and leads the way into the living room, towards the couch. You plop down onto the sofa, turned to face him next to you. “So-”

“Can we talk about something else?”

“No.” You grin. “Not until you believe me.”

He rolls his eye. “Fine. I believe you.”

“I mean really believe me.” You say. “What’s it going to take?”

“I don’t know.”

“Fine.” You say. “Where’s the nearest mirror?”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes.”

He pauses for a moment before responding. “I have one in my room.”

You get up from the couch and creep upstairs, careful to keep quiet so as to not wake Judith, Carl a reluctant half step behind you. He points you in the direction of his room, and you slip inside, holding the door open for him before shutting it quietly. The mirror isn’t anything special, just a rectangle of glass hanging above the dresser, but you grin at the sight of it anyway. 

Grabbing him by the shoulders, you steer him in front of the mirror, watching over his shoulder. “See?”

“Yup.” He says, unenthused. “I see this every day, actually.”

“Apparently not.” You say, moving a hand from his shoulder to gently play with his hair. “I mean, look at this.” You hold the lock up in front of his gaze. “Your hair is gorgeous. And-” You drop his hair in favor of softly holding his jaw, turning his head so that his jawline is more prominent. “This.” You run a finger along the line of his jaw. “This too.” You turn his head again so that you can sweep your touch over the bridge of his nose. “And of course,” You thumb over his cheek, tapping each of his freckles. Your hand still on his cheek, you grin at him in the mirror. “You’re blushing.”

“What are you doing?” He asks, soft. 

“Showing you.” You say. 

“Why?”

“Because you should know.” You say. “And it’s personally offensive when you say you’re ugly, because that means you think the guy I’ve been flirting with is a total dud.”

It takes him a minute to process it, and you can see it in his eye when he puts it together. “You’ve been flirting with me?”

“Maybe you are stupid.” You muse. 

You didn’t think it was possible, but he turns even more red. “I don’t- really? Me? Why?”

“Jesus Christ Carl, how far am I going to have to go before you believe that I like you.” You laugh. 

He makes eye contact with you through the mirror. “As far as you want.”

[rollinouttahere-writes]

Welcome back Lin! Hope your doing ok ☺️ 

Would it be alright if I request yandere Luffy where him and the reader go to an new island maybe there’s all you can eat buffet or the crew went to a fair🎢🎡 , but what if Luffy and reader got separate and while the reader was looking for him only to bump into a guy (maybe a few ?) who wouldn’t take a no for an answer maybe that’s when reader shouted for Luffy who came running ? Hope this ok and if it’s possible  could the reader be a female if not that’s ok I’m fine with gn. (Mm maybe romantic? If that’s ok if u want it could be low-key romantic if u want please ) 🍪anon

I decided to take a crack at writing Luffy romantically. I might start doing it more if y'all like this. Also I love Lin as an abbreviation of my username, that's adorable. And uh... I hope you're still with me given that this ask is from July of last year...

Prized Possession

Yandere Luffy x Fem!Reader

2k words

Getting to explore a new island was always thrilling. There was no telling if this would be a casual visit, or if you were about to go to war with the local tyrant because your dear, chaotic captain physically can't leave well enough alone. Not that you're necessarily complaining. His tendency to stick his nose in everyone's business and throw hands when necessary (and sometimes not), was what led to you joining his crew and beginning your new life of piracy. 

As well as leading to you meeting the man that managed to completely steal your heart so effortlessly and casually that you can't even truly pinpoint an exact date for when you two became a couple. The relationship only became officially recognized when Usopp asked if you two were a couple or not, to which Luffy hummed in thought for a minute, then shrugged and said ‘yeah’.

An extremely romantic and enviable confession, truly. You wouldn't have it any other way. 

 But that was the past, and you should be focused on the now. It's not every day that you guys get the pleasure of visiting an island in the middle of a festival. Food stalls and various forms of entertainment filled a large open field with vendors all clambering for the attention of everyone and anyone passing by. Your boyfriend had rapidly become a favorite for anyone running a food stall that was selling meat. 

You watched with mild amusement as Luffy shoved as much grilled meat as he possibly could into his mouth with one hand. His other hand was tightly clutched around your own, as it usually was during any casual outing you two had together. Your free hand held a skewer of meat Luffy had handed you that you were lightly nibbling on. 

If you were completely honest, you didn't really want it. You've been sampling various meats since Luffy started dragging you around to each and every stall that caught his eye. All of them have been good, you can't deny that, but your body was begging for literally anything plant-based. You would rip a carrot out of the dirt and eat it right now if presented with the opportunity. But… Luffy looked so happy that you didn't really want to say anything about it yet. You'll be able to get a word in later once his appetite is starting to slow down. 

“Do you not like it?”

The question snapped you out of your train of thought. Luffy had just finished decimating the last of this cart's supply. His cheeks were stretched out as he chewed, then swallowed the last bite. 

“It’s fine, I guess I'm just not that hungry.” This was a half truth. You were definitely starting to get full by now. 

Not wasting a second, Luffy leaned down and ate what was left of your share. Including the stick. Once upon a time, that would have concerned you, but you've seen him eat more questionable things. He must have the stomach acid of a vulture, you're sure of it. 

“Sanji definitely makes it better, I get why you didn't want it.” Luffy promptly walked away with you in tow, ignoring the offended grumblings of the cook he just insulted without a care in the world. This is something that you would normally scold someone over, but you've quickly learned that there is no point in trying to scold Luffy about something so trivial. He won't listen. It'll be in one ear, out the other.

It was obvious that he was trying to scope out the next place to eat from. In an attempt to spare yourself from continuing to eat like a carnivore, you try to draw his attention away from all of the food. Giving his hand a squeeze, you shoot your shot, “Why don't we go try some of the carnival games? I bet we could win lots of prizes.” The games being rigged won't mean anything against someone with Luffy's strength. Bottles could be superglued to the tables, and Luffy would still be able to bowl them over with ease.

Much to your relief, Luffy perked up at your idea, seeming to be interested. He grinned widely, “Yeah! I bet I’ll be able to win more prizes than you!”

His declaration makes you laugh, “Oh? Is that a challenge?” He would absolutely win more stuff,  but that’s neither here nor there. 

He let out a laugh of his own. “It is! You better be ready to- Oh! They made more!” In an instant, your boyfriend made a hard left and sprinted towards a food stall that he had previously cleaned out. That one had been his favorite of the night. 

Apparently, he was so excited that he had let go of you in his hurry to go back. You stare down at your now freed -and slightly sweaty- hand. Well, if this isn't a perfect opportunity to get a different kind of food, you don't know what is. It won't take him long to either clean that vendor out again or notice your absence, so you should find something to eat quickly. 

You wander away from where all the savory foods are being served until you find a row of carts specializing in sweet treats. You should be able to find something with fruit here. The delicious smells of fried dough and sugary batters wafted through the air and filled your senses, but that wasn’t what you were looking for. After walking past a few carts, your eyes zero in on something promising. One of the stands is selling ice cream, and some of the toppings available are fresh fruit. Perfect!

Happily, you get in line and read the menu as you try to decide what to get. You decide on what combination of ice cream and fruit you want and order as soon as you get to the front. The vendor tells you the total while the person working with him makes your cone. Before you can pull out your money, someone behind you speaks up.

“Add hers to my order.”

The voice didn’t sound familiar, so you look over your shoulder. There is a man standing a little too close behind you. He’s tall and has an impressive looking sleeve of tattoos on his left arm. The man leers down at you. Immediately, you get a bad feeling about him.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that. I can pay for it.” You hastily fish some berry out of your pocket, but the stranger beats you to the chase and hands the vendor money first.

“I don’t have to, but I wanted to. Is there something wrong with that?” His smile lacks the warm comfort that Luffy’s does. It just feels condescending and smarmy. 

There is something wrong with doing a charitable act when there is an ulterior motive, but you don’t say that out loud, “I guess not… Thank you.”

He takes this as an invitation to step closer to you. “My name’s Dante. What’s a pretty thing like you called?”

You take a large step back and know that you don’t want to give this guy your actual name, “Well, my boyfriend likes to call me cupcake sometimes.” Among many other far less conventional pet names like bug or meatball. Honestly, you’re starting to think Luffy comes up with odd names just to make you laugh.

Dante’s eye twitches in annoyance, “Boyfriend? I don’t see him.”

“Yeah, we split up to get different food. He’s going to meet up with me soon.” Internally, you aren’t sure how long it’s going to take for Luffy to find you since you wandered off without telling him, but this guy doesn’t need to know that part.

“C’mon, don’t be like that. I bought you ice cream, don’t lie to me about a boyfriend.” 

“I’m not lying. I am here with my boyfriend, and I don’t care for the way you’re talking to me. Look, I’ll pay you back for the ice cream,” without waiting for a response, you pull some money out of your pocket and hold it out to him.

Instead of taking the money, he pushes your hand away and steps closer. “Just come with me for a bit. I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

The vendor finally hands over your ice cream, and you’re quick to take it and speed walk away. Hopefully, Dante will take the hint and leave you alone. You make a beeline for where you last saw Luffy while taking a bite from your fruity ice cream. It tastes delicious and is very refreshing after having so much meat.

Unfortunately, you don’t make it far before you feel someone grab your arm and force you to stop. You whip around and glare at the man who’s harassing you, “Would you leave me alone? I’m not interested.”

Dante doesn’t appear to be deterred, just frustrated. “Quit playing hard to get.” He plasters a sleazy smile onto his face, “Just come with me for a little while so we can have some fun together.” He grabs your other arm and pulls you closer.

Just as you’re about to kick him between the legs, he is violently launched away from you. It startles you initially, but you relax quickly because you would recognize that stretchy arm anywhere. You smile as you see Luffy marching over to you. You’re about to greet him and say how happy you are to see him, but he walks right past you. His expression isn’t just serious. He looks pissed.

You gawk at him as he stomps over to where Dante is sprawled out on the ground, groaning in pain from crashing into a tin trash can. He looks up at Luffy and tries to sit up and act tough, “The hell is your problem, man?!”

Luffy doesn’t answer him. Instead, he pulls his arm back and punches Dante again. His fist connects with his jaw with a loud crack. In an instant, Luffy is on top of him and raining down more blows while remaining eerily silent. All you can do is stare in horror as Luffy keeps beating the man. Sickening crunches sound through the air, making your stomach lurch with each one. Ice cream drips down your fingers as it melts, but you can’t be bothered to do anything about it.

By the time Luffy gets up, Dante is completely limp and he’s bloodied from the shoulders up. Several people rush to his side to check on him, but no one is brave enough to approach Luffy. The face he had previously is gone and he’s back to smiling as if nothing happened. He wipes his bloody hands onto his shorts as he approaches you.

“There you are! I got worried when I saw you weren’t with me.”

All you do is nod, still too stunned to speak. Your silence doesn’t seem to bother Luffy at all. He ducks down and licks up some of your ice cream before raising your hands to hold it closer to your mouth, “Your ice cream is melting, don’t forget to eat it.”

“Oh… yeah…” You lick at the treat, but you can’t even taste it as your gaze remains fixed on the man that Luffy just beat to a pulp.

Luffy blocks your view and smiles tightly. “Let’s go play those games you talked about! C’mon, I’ll win you lots of prizes!” He slings an arm around your shoulder and presses a kiss to your cheek before forcibly guiding you away from the scene of his crime.

You’ve never seen that side of Luffy come out over something so minor. You would’ve understood if he’d just hit Dante the first time, but the rest? It was like watching someone get mauled by a wild animal. And after doing all that, he's walking around without a care in the world.

… Maybe you’re just overreacting. Luffy would never do something like that without a good reason… right?

[bloodibambiidoll]

Pour Some Sugar On Me

(Older!Alpha Eddie x Omega!Reader)

Summary: It’s been four months since you’ve been mated to Eddie in secret. When he takes you to “Lovers Lake” for a picnic and tells you he’s never hooked up there, it’s only right that you remedy that. WK: 1.8K

Warnings: General Omegaverse behaviors, scenting, knotting, biting, unprotected sex, outside sex, pet names, a whole lotta gushy mushy fluff. No physical descriptions of reader besides her outfit but she does have the nickname “sugar” 18+MNDI!

A/N: SURPISEEE SHAWTY!! I know it’s been a minute since I posted a ST fic but I randomly got the spark to write this today! This is set in the middle of Everlasting Sweeheart before Sugar’s dad finds out about them. Older!Eddie edit is by @eddiemunsons-missingnipple.

You’ve been seeing Eddie in secret for about four months now and it couldn’t be more perfect. Aside from the fact that it was a secret. It was hard, having to hide your mate from everyone in your life. The only person you’ve told is your childhood best friend but she lives states away. A few of your employees asked about your mark and you brushed them off, not wanting to go into details. You haven’t seen your dad since that day at the shop, the day you realized that Eddie worked for him. You missed him, and you hate sneaking around behind his back. Even though it was your idea to wait, you were ready to tell him. But your mate? He wasn’t quite there yet. So you decided not to push him for now and to just enjoy your little bubble.

Today Eddie has something “special” planned for the two of you but refuses to tell you where you’re going. He does this with every date, plans something elaborate or something as simple as a movie night at home. But it was always romantic. He put a lot of thought into these dates and it made sneaking around infinitely easier on you. On those days, it feels everything and everyone but you and Eddie cease to exist.

“Alright sugar pie, you ready?” Eddie yells down the hall, you made him leave the room so you could get ready because you had a little surprise of your own. He didn’t tell you where you were going, but he at least told you that you were riding on his bike and not in one of his cars. So you’d know what to wear. And it just so happened you had the perfect outfit.

Thus far he's only seen your softer side, your little mini dresses and Mary Jane’s with ribbons tied in your hair. Which was great for when you worked at the bakery, comfy shoes, easy movement, kept your hair out of your face. But there’s a whole other side to you he has yet to discover. You were raised by a biker, after all. You look at yourself in the mirror and smirk. You had even styled your hair differently and your make up was darker than your everyday look. Eddie was going to shit.

“Yeah baby, I’m ready.” You exit the room and Eddie’s jaw literally drops and his keys that were dangling from his fingers fall to the ground.

“Sugar… you look…” his eyes roam your figure, drinking in every inch, every detail. The glossy leather of your thigh high platform boots. The little black ripped jean shorts. The tiny little white tank top. And last but not least? You’re wearing a fucking leather battle jacket. “Wow. You look so fucking sexy. Did you get new clothes?”

“Nah. This is stuff I’ve had forever. I actually started this jacket back in highschool and have gradually added to or changed it. I feel like you’re forgetting who my dad is, Eddie bear. Have you ever looked in my closet? There’s more to me than you think.” You approach him, running your cherry red fingernail along his jaw, causing him to shiver under your touch.

“You’re telling me my little sugar girl has a bad ass rocker side I don’t even know about?” He grips your hips in his large ringed hands, pulling your body taunt against his.

“Guess you’ll just have to stick around and find out.” You pull back, shooting him a wink. “You ready to go or are you gonna stand here and ogle me all night?”

“Oh baby, I’m gonna ogle you alright… but, I’m ready to go.” He gives your butt a little pat before leaning down to pick up his keys. “Come on, get your sexy ass out the door.”

“Okay, okay, I’m going. You don’t have to be pushy.” You tease, giggling as you connect his lips to yours.

Eddie drove his bike to the edge of town, turning down a dirt road and stopping when he reached the lake he apparently nicknamed “lovers lake”. He had a whole picnic packed tightly in the seat compartment of his motorcycle with all your favorite foods and treats. He even brought little candles and wine.

“This is nice Eddie, it’s really pretty here.” Your head is resting on his shoulder and you smile up at him sweetly.

“Yeah? I’m glad baby. Used to come out here in highschool in my van. Open up the back and just smoke and think, enjoy the silence. Figured it would be nice.” He smooths a hand over your hair before cupping your cheek, placing a tender kiss on your forehead.

“All by yourself? You didn’t bring any girls out here? That’s why they call it lovers lake, right?” You wiggle your eyebrows at him playfully.

“Ha! No, definitely didn’t bring any girls out here. Teenage Eddie wasn’t very popular with the ladies.”

“Hmm… that’s too bad, seems like a nice place to get your guts rearranged by a hot metal head, if you ask me.” You rest a hand on his chest, looking up at him with hooded eyes.

That’s how you ended up where you are now, bent over Eddie’s bike, your shorts discarded on the ground somewhere, panties pushed to the side and his tongue buried as deep inside you as possible. He insisted you keep the boots and the jacket on because it was “really doing it for him”.

“Fuck baby, you always taste so sweet.” Eddie mumbles against your core, the vibrations causing you to moan out. His skilled tongue pushes you closer to the edge with each passing second. He leans down to take your clit between his lips as his thick digits circle your entrance. He starts to thrust his fingers in and out of you, curling them just right so they brush against your sweet spot with each stroke. It has you seeing stars, your pussy clenching so tightly around his fingers he feels like they’re going to get pushed out.

“Oh my god! Fuck, Eddie! Feels so fucking good, you always make me cum so good. Want your cock.”

“Don’t worry sugar, I’m not fucking done with you yet.” You hear the sound of his belt, followed by his zipper. He pushes his pants down just enough for his cock to spring free, taking it in his hand and running it through your slick folds. “How bad do you want it?”

“So bad alpha, want your knot.” You whimper as you push back against him. He pushes into you in one breath taking thrust.

“Ah fuck, you’re always so god damn tight.” Eddie pushes his hips flush against yours, his tip brushing against your sweet spot. His hands grip onto your ass, the cool night air making his rings cold against your skin. He squeezes the flesh of your cheeks while he starts to rock into you slow and deep, teasing you.

“Eddie, faster, please, go faster.” You bounce back against him, your ass jiggling deliciously in his tattooed hands.

“Yeah? My pretty girl wants it faster?” He pulls almost all the way out before slamming back inside you, the sound of his hips clapping against your ass echoing through the trees. He starts to fuck into you hard and fast, your upper half resting against the plush bike seat and the tips of your boot clad feet are the only thing touching the ground.

“Mmm alpha, I need your cum. Need your knot. You make me feel so fucking full.”

Eddie leans forward, his chest pressing against your back, making his cock thrust even deeper inside you. One of his hands snakes around you to rub your clit while he brings his lips to your neck, leaving sloppy wet kisses along the expanse of your throat. He shoves his nose into your scent gland and inhales, your sugary sweet scent sending his eyes rolling into the back of his head.

“You smell so fucking good omega. My omega. My sweet girl.” He nips at the skin of your neck before biting down, latching his teeth to your skin. It’s all too much. It all feels too good. The speed of the circles on your clit increases and that’s all it takes to send you tumbling over the edge.

“Ohmygod! Eddieeee, mmm fuck.” He fucks you through it before leaning up off of you to chase his own high.

“This pussy’s so fucking good. Tastes so sweet. Sucks me in so good. So tight. Fucking made for me.” His eyes don’t know where to settle, his thick cock disappearing into your creamy walls over and over again. The way your back is curved from how you’re bent over his bike. The way those fucking boots hug the top of your thighs.

“Give your cum alpha, fuck a pup into me.”

“Oh god.” His hips slap hard against yours a few more times before he’s pushing them flush against your ass, filling you with ropes of his cum. His knot starts to swell inside you and he goes to pull out so you aren’t stuck in this awkward position until it goes down but you just hook your leg around his, keeping him in place.

“No, I want your knot, Eddie. I’ll stay like this all night just to have it.”

“Jesus Christ.” You let out a little whimper that turns into a loud moan as his knot pops inside you. The feeling sending you into another mind blowing orgasm. Eddie leans his chest down against you again so he can leave loving little pecks against your cheek and rub his nose against your throat.

“That was so fucking hot.” You giggle, reaching behind you to tangle your fingers in his hair.

“Yeah, it was, but now we’re stuck like this. So I’m gonna need you to stop laughing or we are going to be stuck here all night.” Eddie chuckles as he leans into your touch.

“Just fall back on your ass, it’ll be fine.”

He leans up, gripping your hips as he lets his ass fall back onto the ground. He lands with you on top of his lap with a gentle thud.

“Guess this isn’t so bad.” Eddie cups your cheek, turning your head to the side so he can connect your lips in a passionate kiss. No matter how many times he kisses you like this you think it’ll still make a bomb filled with butterflies go off in your stomach.

“So… how was your first lovers lake hookup?”

“World altering. Wouldn’t have wanted it to be with anyone else. I love you, sugar.”

“I love you too Eddie, so much.” You giggle fondly, taking his face in your hand.

“You’ve seriously gotta stop with that cute ass giggling or I’m just gonna have to fuck you again.”

“Maybe that’s what I want?” You raise a challenging eyebrow at him, a smirk spread across your lips.

“Ohhh you’re in for it now.” He grabs your hips, manhandling you onto your hands and knees with his knot still inside you. “I can stay here all night.”

Taglist: @eddiesxangel @bimbobaggins69 @fairymunson @artistwhodoesntpost @witchyhippysstuff @djoseph-quinn @freak-of-hawkins

[firegirl888101]

Insatiable Madness (11)

|Sagau Yandere Fatui Harbingers x Reader|

Now is your time to survive. Will you swallow your words? Or spit them and face the consequences, both good and bad?

Reader is Gender Neutral!

"Alright... I can do this. This'll be a piece of cake." You paced yourself, walking around your room to clear your dooming thoughts.

"Nothing bad is going to happen; this isn't like back then. I'm in my room, where I can control what happens and when something happens. How much worse could my situation possibly get? The worst characters in the entire game are here, in my house already. It physically can't get any worse!"

"Shut up! You sound like a cult of fat Mitachurls dancing around a fire!" A Harbinger's voice shouted from downstairs, banging following their shouts.

"Break a hole in my ceiling and I swear to your archon I'll gouge out your eyes and bury them in my back garden!"

"Shuuuut up." The same voice shouted back quieter, going completely silent when another voice scolded them. You guessed it was a scolding, as their voice sounded authoritive despite being muffled. Pierro, perhaps.

This idea of yours better work. You're not fighting your past experiences for nothing! If these characters don't reply to you and make you sound (and look) like a dunce, you're done with the universe.

Speaking of being done with the universe, how on Earth did this even happen? It's not normal for fictional characters to know of the existence of people who created them. Are other games like this too? Or is Genshin Impact special in some way? And if it's just Genshin Impact, who's to say other Hoyoverse games don't have the same level of intelligence behind the characters?

It's a good thing you uninstalled Honkai Star Rail a month ago, who knows, it could have been the Stellaron Hunters in your house instead. Although... Arguably, you somehow think they'd be a lot better compared to the Harbingers.

Anyway, it's time to start your plan.

You booted up Genshin, eyeing the Celestia background hesitantly with shaking fingers, the sun in the background feeling more real considering your current circumstances.

Pushing your chair inwards in a hurry, you scrambled to get your notebook beside your PC to re-read the notes you wrote before. You didn't want to freeze up in the middle of your SOS speech, so you took it upon yourself to write key points of your argument and read them if you start feeling the anxiety creep in.

Ugh, thinking about how possibly the entirety of Teyvat was going to hear your voice scares you even more.

No, take deep breaths. The characters left aren't as evil as the Fatui, or have smart people such as Dottore or Sandrone. The only person you currently see as a threat is Albedo, but he shouldn't be a problem since his goal is to destroy Mondstadt.

You read your paper again:

Introduce yourself formally, keep it classy

Ask Aether what the FUCK the Harbingers think they're doing!!!

Beg Explain you could really use some help

Ask if there's any way someone on the other side, perhaps Albedo, could construct a portal to get these mangy, whining, murderous babies out of your house

Be polite, thank for listening, and wait for reply. Patience is key

If this little golden teenager with a ratty plait doesn't answer you, you're throwing your TV remote at your PC. ...Actually nevermind, it might come useful in the future.

Your screen suddenly loaded, the blinding white loading screen with each element fading to show the landscape. Your screen looked exactly how it did yesterday. With your Childe team, minus Childe obviously, in their idle animations outside of the Spiral Abyss portal in Mondstadt.

Okay, this is it. It's better to at least try rather than run away with cowardice. If you don't try, you'll never know whether it's actually possible to communicate with other characters. Also, in the small hope that the Harbingers leave your house, you can delete the game and start a new life. ...Hopefully.

You hesitantly went to the character selection screen and selected Aether, putting him in a team on his own with no other characters next to him. Noticeably, Arlecchino and surprisingly Wanderer aren't in the character menu either. Did the Harbinger's travel to Teyvat alter the course of history on their side? Interesting...

Now, where to communicate with him? Well, considering Signora is alive, the timeline must be just before or during Inazuma. Would staying in Mondstadt be a better place? Oh, who cares. You've got the guy in your party anyway. As long as he's there, it should be fine, right?

You selected the waypoint closest to Albedo's lab in Dragonspine, running to the camp and occasionally stopping to avoid freezing to death by using the orange seelies.

Then, you turn Aether's avatar to face you, his breath creating white vapour in the cold air of the mountain.

"So, uh, hello...!" You started, mumbling quietly as you scooch your chair back away from your desk.

No. Follow step one correctly, and be confident about it. You coughed before starting again, voice stronger but still quiet as to not alert the Harbingers.

"My name is Y/N, and I really need your help. I'm not sure what's happening on your side of things, and to be honest, I don't really care. If you haven't noticed on your journey by now, The 11 Fatui Harbingers have gone missing. Well, in your world anyway." You began.

"They somehow and miraculously ended up here, in my world. Specifically, my house. From what they've told me, they want to give me over to the Tsaritsa. I have no idea what that means, all I know is she'll probably kill me."

You waited for a response, any glitching similar to when Childe wasn't working in the abyss or visual cue to show someone (or something) was listening. You didn't see one, but continued anyway.

"I need your help to transport them back to Teyvat. I know what you're probably thinking, 'but the Fatui have been causing me problems on my journey to find my sister'. Unfortunately for you, they become important in developing your journey across each nation. I'm guessing you're currently in Inazuma or Liyue since Signora is still alive, even though I've brought you to Natlan? Ugh, this is so weird." You shook your head with a small grimace.

"Anyway, I'm really hoping you can hear me. If the Fatui of all possible people who could know of me are aware of my side and my existence, surely you and/or the Archons must know too? Maybe even the Abyss? After watching your journey in Natlan I can't stand them, but they did prove a long theory I had..."

You trailed off, hoping that maybe nobody replied to your speech because they were waiting for a moment you would stop so they could input. Alas, nothing changed. Aether was still as blank as ever, face unchanging to the world around him.

You tried everything to get a reaction. Kamera mode, Teapot mode, equipping different characters, changing locations, reloading the game... but nothing worked.

What were you doing wrong? If the Harbingers knew of your existence, surely that would have been because you used Childe a lot, right? There's nothing else you can think of that could be the cause. Unless, perhaps, the 'players' existence is a known fact throughout Teyvat? No, that couldn't be right. You've talked to NPC's and read hundreds of theories using lore found within the game. Not once did it ever mention a higher being above the Descenders, nor the Phane for that matter.

You hit the pause button in Genshin, huffing an angered sigh as you pushed your chair out aggressively. You'll have to try again later, that's the only thing you can do right now. Considering the Harbinger's have no idea what resources exist in this world, you're pretty sure it will take them awhile to figure out how to get back to Teyvat.

'Awhile' may sound like a long time, but you know Dottore will somehow cut that word by 3/4. Anyway, you'll have to save asking about a possible way to create a portal another time. Right now, what's more important is grasping a connection of understanding.

Well, you better start sorting out another problem that will soon come. The problem which Pulcinella actually pointed out, too.

Food.

And you know what you need to get more? Money.

If only Pantalone were useful in this world, then, he would be able to pay for all the expenses you'll need these next few weeks. You know, now that you're actually thinking about it, he's probably the most useless Harbinger here.

You sat up from your chair and left it pushed out, convincing yourself that this plan wasn't completely over. In truth, it wasn't. There was nothing wrong in trying again, was there? Sure, this session might have failed. But who's to say it won't work the next time? Or maybe the time after that?

...Right?

You left the room after eyeing your computer screen once more, scowling at the Genshin merch on your desk. That reminds you, you need to burn all the Harbinger merch the second you can. Maybe all your merch in fact. Okay that's a lie, although this instance has definitely scarred you for life, it won't stop you from keeping a few non-Fatui items.

Unfortunately, if you'd just looked at your desk one more time, you would have noticed Paimon waving frantically at you with a face of panic, shouting through the screen trying to get her voice to be heard on the other side.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

"Okay, group time. We need to discuss something." You called everyone to the living room, snatching the remote from Pantalone's hand and turning the TV off.

"Pardon me, it was my turn to watch the television tonight." He excused himself aggressively, trying to swat the remote back into his hand.

"Not so funny when it's your turn, is it?" Dottore laughed at him, pausing his writing to mock the banker.

"Are you aware of how long I had to wait until I could have a look at my channel? I only just received the remote!" He complained, glaring at Dottore through his closed eyes.

"Hmph. To me, it looks like you're sleeping laying on the sofa like that." Sandrone scoffed, her posture straight.

"Alright, Alright," You quietened them. "Pantalone can get the remote back after I say what I need to."

After a short while of waiting, everyone except Pierro, Signora, Capitano and Childe had arrived in the living room to listen to what you had to say.

"Where are the other four? Why is there always someone missing when I need to say something important." You asked the Harbingers, sighing in frustration.

"Heh, Childe is out of commission at the moment." Scaramouche snickered to himself, eyes closed imagining the pain he's going through.

"That's not a 'where', it's a 'what'." You deadpanned.

"He's in the landing with Capitano. I brought him there since these two were taking over the sofa." Arlecchino answered.

"And... Signora and Pierro?"

"Signora's in the guest bedroom, fretting about her nails growing in a different direction that how'd she'd like them to. Pierro's still in the office signing paperwork that clearly isn't helpful to our situation at this moment in time."

"Thank you, at least someone's helpful." You nodded to her, Arlecchino nodding back in an understanding as she leant against the wall with her arms crossed.

"We need to talk about food. As Pulcinella reminded me earlier today, if we don't get more food we'll run out in about 3 days."

"Does that even matter?" Scaramouche interrupted you. "The majority of us don't even need to eat, you're just wasting your resources by feeding us. Besides, who would want to eat your aw--"

"What he means to say is," Pulcinella coughed to interrupt the puppet. "Yes, this is indeed a tough predicament. How are we to get the resources we need?"

"Well, we'll have to go to the shop and buy some. But to buy, we need money."

"Money? I have plenty of that." Pantalone questions with a bored tone, his head leaning into one of his hands.

"Stop forgetting what I told you earlier, you damned diva. Your money is useless here. If we want to get money, we'll have to work." You hushed him quickly.

"Work. Yes, of course." Arlecchino thought out loud. "But how do we work when we know nothing about this world?"

"Ugh, it's not that different to Teyvat! So, who's feeling like working?"

Nobody replied, everyone looking at eachother urging them to say yes instead of them.

"...Right, well, let's eliminate the people who can't work. Signora can't, as it would be way too risky. If the police somehow recovered the damaged footage and released it to the public, I'd be dead meat she'd blow her cover immediately," You started.

"Pulcinella and Pierro also can't, as they look way too old to be working. They'd be considered retirement age from looks alone. On the same topic, Columbina and Sandrone might have to stay behind too because of how child-like they look. Columbina might be able to get away with it, but it would still turn some heads in my opinion."

"Hah! It seems you're worth some praise." Sandrone commended you, letting out a hearty laugh in satisfaction. "However, this does cause some problems on my end of the bargain."

"And what problems would that be?"

"Why, exploring your world's machinery, of course! Becoming an engineer would be the perfect way to learn more about your world."

"Yes." You gave her a dead look. "And tell me, you're planning to become a professional's apprentice to learn? Something tells me your pride wouldn't let that happen."

"It can't be that difficult." She scoffed to herself, voice quiet and eyes narrow.

"I wanted to see more of this world..." Columbina sighed sadly, interjecting Sandrone. "Oh well, I suppose I can do that by asking you questions instead~"

"Right..." You sweated nervously.

"I have no objections." Pulcinella nodded with his eyes closed, being in agreeance. "We can discuss Sandrone's means to learn later, as I believe it would be an excellent idea."

You sighed once more, not bothering to argue more, and continued your rambling.

"Capitano is also a no in terms of getting a job. That helmet really stands out, and considering he can't and wouldn't want to take it off, I guess he's not going outside ever. Anyway, so, uh... We'll discuss who wants to have what job and when they'd like to start tomorrow. I'm going upstairs to tell Signora what's happening. Arlecchino, Pulcinella, could you both respectively tell Childe and Capitano, as well as Pierro this information?" You told them, head looking back over your shoulder before turning straight to walk up the stairs.

"Of course." They both replied, leaving to do their own thing.

As you were walking up the stairs, you could hear Pantalone and Dottore arguing for the remote. Funnily enough, it was Columbina's abnormal dry tone that caused the two to stop fighting and find something to watch together. Huh, you wished you could do that.

You knocked on the guest bedroom door, hearing Signora scoff and call out to the person on the other side telling them to enter. You walked into the bedroom silently, sitting on the bed waiting for her to talk to you.

She was sitting on the chair in front of the mirror, fiddling with a nail file whilst muttering about the state of her fingers. Beside her fumbling form was some nail varnish. Hold on a minute, aren't those your mothers?

"Signora, you wouldn't have happened to find the nail kit in front of you in my parent's bedroom, would you?" You asked her, feeling your annoyance begin to grow.

"Hm? Maybe I did. What's it to you?" She glared in the mirror, eyeing you without turning around.

"What's it to me??? Did you seriously just ask me that? You're using a dead woman's nail file and nail varnish!" You argued.

"Well, yes." She shrugged, a wicked grin growing on her face. "I'll have to make do with what I can get. If it weren't for the surprisingly beautiful colour and necessity of my manicure, I would have put the thought out of my head immediately."

"But those are just excuses! Look, if you really wanted a fucking manicure, you could have just asked for my stuff in my room."

"And how, for Teyvat's sake, was I supposed to know you had supplies in your room?" She eyed you strangely.

Well, she has a point. A dumb point, but one you'll accept as long as she stops using your mother's marriage anniversary nail kit.

"Just...! Just pass the nail kit to me and I'll give you my manicure bag. Stay here, and stay out of my parent's room." You warned her, snatching the nail file and nail varnish with haste.

You speedwalked to your bedroom, dumping the items on your desk with the thought to put those in your bedside drawer later. Stopping for a moment to look at your monitor still showcasing Genshin, you sighed and continued pacing the room to find your manicure bag. When finding the bag, you quickly swiped it off of the shelf and returned to the guest bedroom.

"Right." You started, dumping the bag and opening the zip to let her see what was inside the bag.

"Is this alright for you, your majesty?" You mocked her, unable to stop yourself from speaking. "You'll have everything you could possibly need for your nails in here. From different colours, to charms, to glitter. Capiche?"

"Hmm..." She fiddled with the bag, having a look at the colours you've given her. "Since you're here already, why don't you make yourself useful and do my nails for me? Do whatever you wish with them in terms of colour and point, I'd like to see how nails in this world differ from Teyvat." She ordered you with a wave of her hand, one leg over the other.

Is she actually joking?

"Are you kidding me? I'm not doing your nails for you!" You exclaimed, outraged at the suggestion itself.

"Oh, please. Don't act as if the suggestion is atrocious. Aren't you the one who often mentions our wrongdoings when we're minding our own business? Who's to say we can't do the same?"

"A normal person." You grumbled under your breath with squinted eyes. "Murder and stealing are two very different things."

"I hope you're as good as talking as you are making excuses." She rolled her eyes, laying her hands out in front of her. "Not only that, but doing nails. If I don't like them, you'll have hell to pay."

Well, looks like you don't have a choice in terms of doing her nails for her. What a prissy bitch.

"Fine." You scoffed at her, dragging a spare chair in the corner of the room to sit down.

You looked through the bag of colours you had, deciding to do a red and black gradient whilst leaving her nails relatively long and sharp. Perhaps you could add little light blue dots to the black gradient to highlight her eyes? Yes, that sounds like a good idea.

"Those are the colours you're choosing?" She raised on eyebrow with an uninterested frown.

"I'm sorry, your highness, were you expecting a pretty baby pink?"

"Continue." She rolled her eyes.

Filing and washing her nails to the perfect size, you began to paint the nails delicately. As you were working, you noticed Signora begin to soften her features, a small almost non-existent smile on her face with satisfaction in watching you work.

"Do you do nails often?" She asked you with a gentler tone, tilting her head to get a better look at you painting her smallest nail.

"Not really." You denied, shaking your head. "I only have this many colours because my mother liked to gift me stuff like this."

"Ah..." She made a noise of understanding. "So that's why the majority of your colours are still sealed."

"Yeah. I never used them because I saw no need to, occasionally I'd help my mother do hers if she went out to party with the neighbours. Also most of my Pinterest references use a specific set of colours."

"...Pinterest?"

"It's a type of catalogue." You tried your best to explain, fanning the nails hoping they would dry quickly.

"You can save pictures that other people post and use them for references. I like to use it for clothes and nail inspiration for my mother."

"That sounds... exquisite." Signora noted with wide eyes. "You mean to tell me different people from all over can post these pictures? And others seeing the pictures can use them as they wish?"

"Yup. Although, you saying that out loud makes me think you're thinking of something illegal." You deadpanned.

"I'm not!" She accidentally recoiled, slowly putting her hands back out when realising. "It just seems like a power not worthy on humans. Surely you would use such a powerful idea for messages instead of just pictures?"

"You're literally just describing a forum."

"Hm?"

"Nevermind!" You stated, grabbing the blue and adding dots to the black. Instead of ending it there as planned, you decided to add glitter and put a couple specks onto each dot. You looked back at the nails from a distance, finding satisfaction in your work.

"What do you think? If you don't like them, I don't care. To be fair, this is the first time I've done nails in awhile."

"I suppose they're... alright." Her cheeks turned slightly pink, hesitating in how to answer. "They're much better than what I thought they'd be. Your world has such vibrant colours for varnish, usually I just stick to black."

"I noticed." You put all your materials away, attempting to zip up the bag.

Before you could zip up the bag completely, Signora stopped your hand by placing hers over your own.

"Hey, don't move your hands so much! I just finished your nails!"

"Ahem. I believe we had a deal? You do my nails, and I'll do yours? Although I would rather spend my time doing something else, I am not one to back out of an agreement such as this."

Somehow, despite the day not going to plan, you don't hate how it ended. In fact, you feel as if you've grown a little closer to Signora today.

"Oh, and whilst I'm at it," She paused. "I better have a look at what clothes you have in your wardrobe. From what I see now, I don't think I'll like what I'll see in there."

You take back what you said earlier.

Has anyone noticed I like the word 'prissy' a bit too much?

Anyway, Insatiable Madness is going to have longer Views from now on 🥳

I like this part a lot, it's definitely one of my favourite Views I've written so far!

Please don't expect too many happy, nice and generally fluffy scenes.

This is Yandere, a genre which should never, under any circumstance be considered normal. It's abusive, unhealthy and leads to a lot of victims facing awful conditions which they never should or ever have to endure no matter who they are.

This is fiction that I'm writing, meaning it's all taken light-heartedly IN A FICTIONAL SENSE.

If anyone, by chance, is currently in conditions where a loved-one or yourself has suddenly become distant and/or being hurt when away from eyes please get help. Talk to them, or if it's you, talk to someone you know you can trust.

If you can't talk to anyone, find authorities who can help you. Call 999, as it is in the U.K, or your local emergency service. They will always help you, and will never deny your rights or freedom.

Thanks for reading this, I hope all who's reading knows this information already, but I thought I'd include it since who knows when it comes to where you are in the world and whether your education programs taught critical information like this.

✨Elusive✨ Taglist!:

@valeriele3 @pale-value @pix-stuff @yumi-genshin-writer @yuii-v @itz-luna @annoying-mary @etherisy @khalhaimdad @haikyuusboringassmanager @magica-ren @sweatyexpertdeputyduck @booksandteaplusart @9140 @whatamidoing89 @raesleepyhead @nasidibakar @shikanosn @purpleamethystsblog @chihawari @esthelily @stuffyfrenchflowers @conspicuous-mayonnaise @sielt @katsumikumo @greyhoundwires707 @carminerin @raidendeeznuts123 @angelofdarkness2 @shellofthewell @ginnxy-galaxy @clara-maddenlin @bk-4-trash-fire @uniqaal @tnsophiaonly @vianitry @dottoreandcolumbinaslovechild @melou008 @lsleepysimpl @steadybreadbluebird @thebigkessydisaster @eliciana @kamit-frog @twst-kumi @idk098 @kurayamioterasu @mmeatt @the-lazy-perfectionist @florelll @vvzhyxx @averycuriousperson @starlaisopaque @liyuedragonmorax @lovelive-animequeen1029 @mayythammyy

Quick Reminder Here! If you no longer want to be on the taglist that's completely fine; I take no offence whatsoever so please don't hesitate to tell me. ^^

[cuddleprofiler]

BONA FIDE - When you send Spencer all the letters you wrote throughout your relationship.

Word Count: 4.2k approx

Genre: fluff, somewhat angst I guess

Warnings: Burning, that's it

A/N: Positive Criticism is welcomed. Flashbacks are in italics and letters are in bold and italics.

“What is it?” Spencer spoke to himself quietly in the middle of the night. The team had been on a case in New York City. Somehow, his amazing girlfriend had an inkling days ago that he might not be present on his birthday, so she packed a gift for him to open at midnight in whichever city he would be at the time. Now, sitting cross-legged on the bed in his mismatched socks—something you always teased him about—he carefully unwrapped the present you had snuck into his go-bag.

Moments ago, you had been on the phone with him, your honeyed voice urging him to open the gift and not to poke fun at her. You wished him a Happy Birthday, but confusion lingered in his mind. Why would he make fun of you? What could you possibly have gifted him that warranted that?

“Letters?” he puzzled, seeing the pack of letters tied together with a red ribbon. There was nothing written on the letters except dates — going back a few years. Alongside the letters was a box of assorted cookies, all his favourites.

He chuckled to himself, recalling how you would look at him with exasperation every time he indulged in cookies as soon as he returned home after a case. Your concern for his sweet tooth had even led you to create a PowerPoint presentation, hilariously outlining why moderation was key. 

“No matter how sweet you are Spencer, you will remain so with or without sugar.”, you told him.

He laughed so hard at your presentation that soon you followed him, and both of you were on the couch, his arm around you while your face was buried in his shoulder, laughing.

However, he still didn't understand why the daughter of dentists became a bakery owner. Perhaps to ensure her parents' teachings reached everyone, helping them maintain their sugar intake and thereby increasing awareness among the masses. But he knew the influence of your mom’s cooking and baking must have been one of the reasons you pursued a career as a baker.

A ping from his phone broke his reverie. It was a message from you: “Eat the cookies too and don’t dwell on the PPP incident.” He could almost picture your mock-annoyed smile, your eyes narrowing playfully as you tried to look intimidating but only ended up adorable. He shook his head, smiling.

Reaching for the box, he opened it, savouring a cookie while picking up the first letter. He glanced at the date and realized it was from the year you met, back when you were just the charming owner of the bakery he frequented while he was still just an FBI agent.

“Dear Dr. Spencer Reid,” it began. 

“I don’t even know why I’m writing this letter. I mostly do this for my close family and friends. My mom started this trend, and I’m continuing it. But we aren’t close, are we? I didn’t even notice you the first time you came into the bakery, nor the second. But today, at ten o’clock, I felt something was off. I checked every ingredient in the kitchen; everything was perfect. But when I got home, I realized what was missing… you.”

As he read, his heart raced with warmth. This was a glimpse into your early feelings, a record of how your relationship had begun. He appreciated the effort you put into this; he knew you had a habit of holding back your thoughts. He knew how much you loved him. All your actions screamed it. But you always had a tight leash on your thoughts. He had become better at understanding you over time, but your words still amazed him.

It was you who was missing. You always came in on Wednesdays, and today's Wednesday, and you didn't come. I didn't know whether you had found a new bakery providing more delicious baked goods and coffee than mine or if you were out of town. You were in the FBI, right? And you once said, I could vaguely remember, that you had to leave a lot for work. Must be an important person. :)

He laughed out loud, the sound echoing in the quiet room. “There’s no way I would find better food than yours, Y/N. Only you, baby. Even the whole team is addicted to your baking, especially Rossi and Hotch.”

I got so used to you, so comfortable with you that a day without you made me come out of my zone. I felt like a child on Christmas morning, eagerly searching for the presents that Santa might have left. 

You coming into the bakery with a smile brings good vibes into my life, I guess. You talking about the origin of the ingredients I use in my goods and complimenting my and other chefs’ baking skills feels so nice. I didn’t realize how much you brighten my day until now. Thank you, Dr. Spencer Reid. I won't be able to say all this in person. I get nervous easily if you have noticed. So, this letter, which I am never going to give to you, has to suffice for my conscience to not make me feel guilty.

Yours truly,  

Y/N Y/L/N.

He felt as if he were in high school, where teenagers had crushes and were continually gazing at each other to gauge their feelings and thoughts. However, here you had given him the letters instead, to let him know what you thought all along in their relationship.

He couldn’t help but remember how he had been drawn to you from the first moment he stepped into your bakery. It wasn’t just your incredible baked goods; it was you—your laughter, your passion, your warmth.

He was walking on the pavement to a newly opened bakery near the FBI building. JJ had been gushing about the doughnuts and the other goods they had been selling for days. She had once taken some for Henry, and he was hooked! The next weekend, JJ and Will had taken Henry there, and all of them came back fascinated by the bakery and its owner.

However, he was more convinced when Hotch overheard JJ and spoke about how much Jack liked the bakery (his almost-smile told him that he did too) and how nice and polite the owner was—an appreciation from Hotch, which was rare—he was sure.

He was on his way to the bakery. As he neared his destination, he could smell the aroma of melted butter, coffee, and cinnamon. His feet instinctively took over while his mind was lost in the sweet aroma.

Soon, he was standing in front of “BONA FIDE.”  

“Wonderful name,” he mused to himself. He opened the door and went inside. He was mesmerized by the interior of the place. It was so perfectly planned. Everything was set in place in such a manner that it provided comfort to anyone seeking it, and peace to anyone looking for it. “No wonder JJ and Hotch are fans of this place, especially Hotch.”

Glass display areas on his right were filled with every baked good he could think of—garnished doughnuts with nuts and sprinkles, blueberry muffins, chocolate chip cookies on red plastic trays, croissants, Danishes, a variety of cakes in white boxes, and much more.

The left side had a sitting area, with tables and booths. His eyes roamed over the table near the windows. Every corner was filled with medium-sized palm trees, enriching the colour palette of the place. Each table also had a small plant.

He heard a honey-rich voice,  

“Welcome to Bona Fide,” she murmured, looking up at him from the diary she was writing in, placing the pen down and securing the position of the page.  

“She’s beautiful,” he thought, and he immediately flushed at his own thoughts. He hoped you hadn’t seen him.

“Hi,” he gave you a bright smile. “Um, do you have some blueberry oat muffins?”  

He mentally face-palmed at his own question. Of course, they do. He is in a bakery.

You nervously shuffled around the counter, tapping your foot lightly. “Yeah, yeah. We have that.”  

“Nice. Can I get one of those and an espresso?” he asked. “Please add an almond croissant as well.”  

“Okay. Please wait for a moment.” You went away. You came back after a few minutes.

“Um, sorry, I forgot to ask. Do you want it to be packed or…?”  

He had initially thought of eating in the serenity of his house. He didn't want to waste his time in a bakery, with all the sounds of different age groups mixing and causing him a headache after a day full of paperwork. However, his plans changed the moment his eyes fell on you. It would be more peaceful here than at home, even with the other nine people present.

“It's okay. I will eat it here.” You passed him a smile.

“By the way, do you know croissants are native to Austria, originated from crescent-shaped pastry—”  

And that's how all of his visits went from then on to your bakery.

He continued to the next letter.

“Dear Spencer,” it began. “I feel so intelligent whenever you come into my bakery because I designed it myself. Every time the sun highlights your features, I feel blessed. You look ethereal, especially with your floppy hair and that charming smile. You might not notice, but I can’t help but stare at you sometimes.”

He was glad he was not reading in front of you. He would surely be a blushing mess if he had read it in your home. Even though it would have been funny, you would have put your head on the pillow, hiding from him. The thought made him chuckle softly. 

“Someone should compliment you; you’d blush and look adorable. But I’m sure I’d fumble if I tried to do it in front of you. I try to avoid staring, but you make it impossible. My coworkers have even pointed out my goofy smile whenever you’re around. They’ve figured out my crush on you. See, you’re the profiler, and they are here figuring out my crush on you. You should have done that first.”

“Well, baby,” he murmured, “I’ve been too busy admiring you to notice.” 

He was intent on preserving every little detail of your beauty in his remarkable memory. The way your eyes would widen and your lips part whenever someone praised your work or you, followed by a soft "thank you" as your cheeks flushed with colour. He loved how you would sing Taylor Swift songs when you thought no one was around to hear, each baked good accompanied by its own special tune. These quirks were just some of the many things he found endearing about you—what truly made you, you.

But I think it's good that you haven't figured it out; else, I would be a tomato shaded in front of you. I wouldn't want to be embarrassed, I’m sure of that. You teasing me is enough.

I love the way your eyes become a shade lighter than usual whenever you talk about what you love. It looks like a hundred-watt bulb has been ignited in your eyes. You love reading, and I love listening to you. Apart from my crush, it's an honour to meet such a knowledgeable and kind-hearted person, Spencer. Always be such a sweetheart.

“Now I know why she keeps looking at me like that whenever I read or speak in general,” he said, going over the words deliberately slowly. He wanted to absorb every feeling that would come with the first read of these letters.

As he continued reading, he felt more connected to you than ever. Your thoughts laid bare were a testament to the bond you shared, and he cherished every word.

The next letter revealed your hesitations about asking him out, a rush of emotions spilling onto the page. “I’ve been thinking about it for weeks, but every Wednesday, I get cold feet. It’s silly, I know. I see you with other girls, and it makes me realize how much I want to be more than friends.”

His heart swelled as he read your candid thoughts, your honesty striking a chord deep within him. You had navigated your feelings with such vulnerability, and he appreciated the depth of your affection.

Every time I had to endure a girl flirting with you, only I knew how much I was controlling myself not to have my fist contact with her face. Yes, I know all of them were more beautiful than me, maybe smarter. However, that doesn't mean I can't be jealous.

He gasped slightly, his jaw going slack. He didn’t know that you were jealous all that time. So, this is what the fun-making part is? His features softened. You always acted cool, so it was hard to tell when you were jealous. He would make sure he didn’t make you angry on this matter; else, he had first-hand experience of your violence. He shuddered.

I didn’t expect you to be interested in me. Imagine my surprise when you asked me out! I’m really sorry for my reaction—I was just shocked.

Spencer smiled at the memory of that day. You had lit up when he said yes, and now, as he sat in the quiet of his hotel room, he relived that moment, the sweetness of it washing over him. 

Being with you feels like a dream. The possibility of getting to know you more makes my heart flutter.

He remembered how his relationship went through the BAU. The disadvantage of being with profilers all day is that nothing’s a secret. The teasing he received from Morgan and Emily. He never even told you that Morgan, Emily, and Garcia went to your bakery for the first time to see you with their own eyes.

“I’m never going to return these,” he said, smiling to himself, knowing that they were pieces of your journey together.

With the cookies and your letters beside him, Spencer felt truly blessed. No matter where he was in the world, he had you with him in his heart.

Rossi, ever prudent, caught on to the way Spencer was talking about Y/N.It was clear to him that love was either blossoming or already in full bloom. With this realization,he pushed Spencer to ask her out. Spencer would always be grateful to Rossi for that. He would definitely ask him to officiate their wedding.

Dear Spence,

I’ve always known you to be compassionate, calm, and composed. Never have I, in all these months, seen you lose your cool. Seeing you so terrified today, standing outside my apartment building, was unsettling—I won’t lie. I never imagined someone could become so important to me that I would worry about them like this.

The moment I saw the fear in your eyes, a chill ran through me. The thought of what could have happened to you if anything had gone wrong sent a jolt of dread through my heart. Now I find myself fearing for my safety, not just for me, but for you. Your pain matters to me; it matters so much that it eclipses my own. Honestly, I think it matters to you more than it does to me. I will forever fear the way your eyes were haunted and will always try to keep myself out of danger as much as possible, Spencer, but if by any chance something happens to me, move forward. Even though it may be difficult, do it for my sake! Move forward and live a beautiful life with your family.

Yours lovingly,  

Y/N.

Spencer let out a shaky breath as he finished the letter, feeling a mix of emotions wash over him. This was his least favourite letter to read. “What does she mean by ‘your family’? It’s our family,” he muttered, fighting back angry tears. “This girl, I swear! We need to talk about this.”

His mind drifted back to that night when a single phone call seemed to steal a decade from his life.

It had been two A.M. when his phone rang. Hell, he would be lying if he said he even looked at the caller ID. He knew it couldn't be from the Bureau, as the team had a week's holiday. He just wanted the call to end as soon as possible.

“Hello?” Sleep thickened his voice.  

“Is this SSA Dr. Spencer Reid?” A calm, female voice broke through, pulling him into alertness. He sat up, suddenly wide awake.  

“Yes? Who am I speaking to?”  

“I’m a paramedic. This is about Y/N Y/L/N. She asked me to call you.”  

“What happened?” he asked, the urgency in his tone making him fully alert. He pushed the covers aside, heart racing at the mention of your name.

“Sir, can you come to her apartment building?”  

“What happened? Please, tell me!”  

“It’s best if we talk when you get here,” she replied, but he wasn’t satisfied.

“Tell me something,” he shouted, but all they said was that there was nothing to worry about and that he should get there. Well, there was something to worry about if you were called to your girlfriend’s complex at two in the morning.

When he arrived, a paramedic met him outside and directed him to you.You were sitting at the back of an ambulance, swinging your legs, a blanket over your shoulder protecting you from the early morning cold.

“Hey, hey, darling! Are you okay? What happened?” he asked, his heart racing as he took in your slumped shoulders and the frown on your face. Your hands shook, and as he stepped closer, he noticed your entire frame trembling.

“There was a fire on her floor. There was some faulty wiring; we got everyone out. She was the last one. We found her in the last room; she was sleeping, I guess, and it shocked her much more due to that,” the female paramedic nearby replied to his question.

As Spencer aim was fulfilled, he could see the firefighters working in the background. He thanked the paramedic and turned to you, locking eyes. You looked wide-eyed, and he cupped your cheeks gently. 

“Hey, don’t worry. You’re okay. You’re safe now,” he reassured you, pulling you into a tight embrace. 

He avoided any kind of physical contact with others as much as possible (except Garcia), but he wished to be near Y/N, to hold her—even if it was just her hand in his—to make sure she was there. With him.

Currently, the need to hold her was paramount. He wished to ensure she was alive and that her blood hadn’t stopped forever because if that happened, he didn't know what he would do. The sob that had been stifled within you broke free as your heart realized it was out of danger. You cried until the fear began to dissipate, resting your head on his shoulder as he held you closer.

“Shall we go?” he asked softly, not wanting to disturb the fragile peace that enveloped you. You hummed in agreement, and he helped you down from the ambulance, wrapping an arm around you for support.

His gaze fell upon the burns on your arms and neck, and he took your hands in his, desperate to comfort you. Your eyes met his, and you assured him they were minor second-degree burns, but he couldn’t shake the anger bubbling inside him. “Why didn’t they bring you out first?” he wanted to shout but the fact was they were doing their duty, and now he had his duty too: to take you to safety and wrap you in a bubble if possible.

In the car, he found the courage to ask a question that had been weighing on his mind for months. “Would you like to move in with me?”  

“You don’t have to do this, Spencer.”  

“No, I’m not asking because of tonight. I’ve been wanting to ask for ages. Please, think about it. Don’t rush your decision.”

Under the moonlight a few nights later, you and Spencer lay in bed, wrapped in a peaceful stillness. The only sounds were your gentle breaths. He was blowing softly on your burns, eliciting goosebumps in their wake.

“Spencer?” you broke the silence.  

“Yeah?”  

“Does the offer still stand?”  

A moment of clarity washed over him as he realized what you meant. He smiled slightly, still a bit dazed.  

“Of course, it does, star.”  

“I don’t think I can live on my own right now.”  

“I want to move in with you.”  

Your lips met in a soft, lingering kiss, a tender expression of the love that had blossomed between you. His hands cradled your face, deepening the kiss as excitement surged through him.  

“Our forever isn’t ending between us,” Spencer declared, his conviction unwavering.  

“While I’m here, nothing will happen to you. I’ll make sure of it.” He wiped away a few stray tears that had escaped your eyes.

He finished reading the last letter while savouring half the cookies and coffee he had made.

Darling,

I meant to write this letter so many days ago, but I was putting it off so I could spend more time with you. It’s funny that I’m writing to you now while you’re right across from me—well, lying on the couch, engrossed in “The Collector” by John Fowles. I’ll let you in on a secret: I’m sneaking glances at you every so often. You’ve caught me twice and also have found myself giggling. Now, you probably think I’m going to do a prank or something on you, and I am two seconds away from laughing out loud as you are currently very, very engrossed in telling me “Why I shouldn’t wage a prank war against an MIT graduate?”

I find it utterly adorable, my sweetness. You know how much I wish for us to remain in this blissful state forever, surrounded by love and free from any threat to the life we’re building together. You know how much I wish we remain like this forever, in so much love always, with nothing ever threatening to bring down the life we’re building. However, life is, for lack of a better term, life, and it will bring sadness and other emotions as well. But what I have realized is that whatever happens, I will always be there for you. The love, care, and understanding that we have gained over the years, Spencer, shines and is a captivating element of our relationship. My mom says, “A relationship having care, trust, and understanding as fundamental properties goes a long way! Love can come after that as well.” We have all of them. I hope our relationship also goes on to infinity.

Do you know why I chose the name ‘BONA FIDE’ for my bakery? There were countless options, but that one stood out. It’s catchy, it has a Latin flair that intrigues people, and, most importantly, it has a beautiful meaning: “Made in good faith—authentic and genuine.” When I opened my bakery, I was embodying that meaning—an assurance that the food and the atmosphere would be authentic and made with love. But now it doesn’t end here. Now, it stretches to you, Dr. Spencer Reid. 

My darling, I’m making you a bona fide promise: I will love you unconditionally for my entire life. I love you, Spence <3. I love you more than I love my bakery, and that says a lot. But in all seriousness, I have never loved anyone as deeply as I love you. You have my heart, now and always.

With all my love,  

Y/N.

As Spencer put down the letter, his vision blurred slightly. It had been so long since someone had appreciated him so openly. Your words filled him with warmth, a wave of gratitude washing over him for the depth of your feelings.

He smiled, thinking of the love that enveloped him. If someone had told his teenage self that he would one day experience this kind of happiness, he would have scoffed. There was no way he could have envisioned such a bright future, but now, surrounded by love from friends, the team, and you, he felt truly overwhelmed.

He caressed your handwriting and kissed the letters, hoping his affection could be transferred through conduction. He wasn't worried. Even if it didn’t work, he would show you himself how much he loved you. All his life.

“So it was all planned, huh?” Rossi asked Hotch, as they sat in a bar, drinks in hand.  

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Hotch replied, taking a sip of his whiskey, attempting to maintain his composure.  

“You knew Y/N and Reid would hit it off. That’s why you praised her bakery so highly. You basically orchestrated their meeting.”  

“Y/N is a wonderful baker, and I genuinely appreciate her talent. I was not doing what you think,” Hotch said, a smirk threatening to break free.  

Rossi shook his head, amused. “Attaboy!” he muttered, and the conversation drifted to other topics.

[jamiepaige]

Constant Companions Closeup #3: ROT FOR CLOUT

(also on bandcamp and spotify!)

WHAT'S going on guys, welcome back to another Constant Companions Closeup, the show where we take a DEEP DIVE into what makes these tunes tick! Last episode, we went aaaaaall the way there on Not Quite There, and today, we're making that liggity-line go up up up up up with ROT FOR CLOUT featuring VISUALEYES!! Before we get started, remember to SMASH that like button, SLAM subscribe, and FUCK the bell icon. This week's community challenge: leave your credit card info in the comments! Bet you won't!

(*cough*)

---

I check my notifications way too fucking much. It's a habit I'm trying to curb, and to my credit, I am doing better lately, but being chemically predisposed to dopamine deficiencies has done a number on my ability to go five minutes without checking the funny glowing numbers on my phone. Naturally, I also very much seek more validation than I should from the opinions of strangers yadayadayada yeah that's what the song is about but none of that actually has to do with why I started writing this song in the first place.

Have you ever taken a flight with American Airlines?

This was after waking up at 4 in the morning to fly out of Houston thinking I'd be napping on a couch in Ohio by 2 pm at the latest.

I want to make one thing clear here, and that's that I made this bed for myself. Tucked the sheets in and all. You see, on the rare occasions I fly, I normally take Southwest. Southwest does not overbook flights like a lot of other airlines do, so it's a practice I am mostly unfamiliar with. So, when I received a notification on my phone promising genuinely ridiculous amounts of flight credit money in exchange for taking a slightly later flight, I thought - well, shit! That sounds nice!

This is how they trick you. I didn't really realize I'd been tricked until I was on my second flight of the day, sitting in a middle seat at the very back of the plane, heading from Dallas, a city I don't live in, to Washington, DC, a city I was not trying to get to, staring down the barrel of another flight I was destined to get on that had been delayed like two fucking hours.

I became the Joker. All I could do to remain sane was write a song about it. This is how ROT FOR CLOUT came to be.

I guess the moral of the story is this: Don't go to Ohio. And to answer your question,

Yes I am

Not really

No

---

This is a complete sidenote but I want to mention it here: I'm genuinely overjoyed at the amount of people excitedly talking about my songwriting or the intention behind my lyrics. For a long time, it really felt like lyricism was the last thing people cared about from me, while it was always the thing I wanted to take pride in the most... So genuinely, thank you everyone for caring!! Every single fire emoji people have put next to a line I've written has extended my lifespan by multiple years

There's a brief little moment where the song's chords leave the key, doing a really stereotypically jazzy 2-5 movement, and it's one of my favorite parts of the entire song. I'm not really a music theory buff or anything, and I'm certainly not formally trained, but I've always been very passionate about more complicated harmony in otherwise poppy and accessible contexts - bo en's album pale machine really rewrote my brain when I first heard it.

On that note, there are microtones in the vocal melody - During the chorus, some of the rapidly repeated words move up in quarter tones! Possibly the simplest way I could've included microtonality, but I'm genuinely afraid if I learn more than what I already know about it I'll be lost to the darkness.

Obviously, the work of Sasuke Haraguchi was a massive influence on this song, particularly the song Igaku. I think basically everyone on the entire planet has picked up on that at this point, but I do also wanna point out some other songs that were on my mind at the time! (two for three on these posts mentioning louis cole now)

I'd also like to take a moment to spotlight the vocal samples on this! They previously appeared on エビチャーハン!, and they've honestly become some of my favorite samples to throw in things. They're also just a fucking goldmine sincerely

Finally, HUGE thanks to Visualeyes for the delightful synth solo on this!! I had put out a call on Twitter looking for instrumentalists, genuinely originally envisioning a super jazzy piano solo, but their synth playing genuinely brought the whole song together perfectly!

That's about it for this song - though again, if there are any more questions people have, I'd be happy to answer them in the replies to this post or elsewhere!! (*ahem*) THAT'S gonna do it for today's video, folks! Feel free to leave a like, comment, hit the subscribe button for more and click the bell so you don't miss any new videos. Tomorrow? I Wish That I Could Fall. it hurts.

[chunniwritesalot]

lessons with the hamiltons - lh44

in which reader is a teacher, but hates kids

HIII OKAY THIS IS JUST A SILLY LITTLE THING I STARTED AND THEN I COULDN'T STOP WRITING LMAO!! i might make a part 2 if someone asks! dont mind the no lewis header i have no time to make one hahah

cw: ksi's new song mentioned, cursing maybeeee, lewis being a bighead

wc: many

“I hate kids.” You huffed as you walked into the apartment you shared with your husband, kicking off your shoes with an aggressive thud. “Hate, hate, hate them.”

It was ironic, of course. Being a teacher meant you were surrounded by children all day, one of the few jobs where you were supposed to like them—or at least tolerate them. Good thing you were also an amazing actor, masking your exhaustion with a smile every time you stepped into that classroom.

Lewis looked up from his laptop, raising an eyebrow. “You’re a teacher,” he said, as if reminding you of the obvious. “You’re literally paid to not hate them.”

You rolled your eyes, tossing your bag onto the floor before flopping onto the couch beside him. “Yeah, yeah, thanks for the revelation, Captain Obvious. Match my freak for once, would you?”

His brow furrowed in confusion. “What does that even mean? Is that… new slang or something?” He tilted his head, genuinely curious but clearly out of his depth with your words.

“Yup, some of the kids started saying it,” you replied with a sigh, running your hands through your hair. “I guess I picked up on it without thinking.”

Lewis chuckled softly, shaking his head. “You teach 12 year olds. Doesn’t it freak you out a little to be adopting their slang?”

“Nah,” you said, leaning your head against his chest as he wrapped an arm around you. His warmth and the familiar scent of him—a mix of cologne and home—started to ease the tension you had carried through the door. “What freaks me out is how much I despise them today.”

He smiled at your melodramatic groan, rubbing small circles on your back. “What happened this time?”

“Everything. The noise, the constant whining, the way they somehow always know how to get under my skin. It's like they have a radar for it.” You shut your eyes, sinking deeper into the couch. “It’s exhausting pretending to like them.”

Lewis kissed the top of your head, his voice a little softer. “You don’t have to pretend with me.”

You let out a long breath, feeling some of the weight lift. “I know,” you whispered. “Thank God for that.”

There was a brief moment of silence, the kind that lingered just long enough for Lewis to think you’d finally calmed down. Then you broke it with a frustrated huff.

“You know what I had to deal with today?” You asked, your voice rising with the exasperation that had been bubbling beneath the surface all evening. You didn’t wait for him to respond before launching into your story. “Two boys in my class—two—decided to break out into song right in the middle of my lesson.”

You paused for effect, locking eyes with him to emphasize the absurdity of it all. Lewis raised an eyebrow, already bracing himself for the punchline.

“And they wouldn’t shut the hell up, mate,” you finished with a dramatic flourish, throwing your hands up in frustration.

He let out a low chuckle, trying to keep a straight face. “What were they even singing?”

You groaned, sinking deeper into the couch. “Something ridiculous. Some TikTok trend or whatever, something about being on a screen and then a ring... Doesn’t matter, though—they were so off-key I couldn’t even tell what it was supposed to be.”

Lewis shook his head, biting back a smile. “And let me guess, they thought they were absolutely killing it?”

You shot him a look. “Oh, of course. They were acting like they were auditioning for a Broadway show. Hand gestures, facial expressions, the works. Like, I was just waiting for them to ask for a standing ovation.”

Lewis laughed outright at that, the sound of it making you feel a little less annoyed, though you’d never admit it. “And what did you do? Join in?”

You gave him a deadpan stare. “I kicked them both out of class.”

He snorted, covering his mouth to hide his amusement. “Classic. Just no patience left today, huh?”

“None.” You sighed, leaning back and closing your eyes, allowing yourself to relax for the first time all day. “Zero tolerance for teenage karaoke. I just wanted to get through my lesson without a circus.”

“Well, Mrs. Hamilton,” Lewis teased, emphasizing your formal title with an exaggeratedly prim tone. “I’m sure you handled it all with grace and professionalism.”

You let out a scoff, shooting him a sideways glance. “Yeah, if ‘grace and professionalism’ means nearly chucking a whiteboard marker at them, then sure.”

Lewis chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m sure you’re everyone’s favorite teacher,” he added, a grin tugging at his lips.

You snorted, throwing your head back against the couch dramatically. “Oh yeah, I can just feel the love. Nothing says ‘favorite teacher’ like the daily chorus of, ‘Can we go home early?’ or ‘Miss, this is so boring.’”

“They only say that because they can’t handle your brilliance,” Lewis quipped, giving you a knowing look. “You’re too much for their fragile little minds.”

“Oh, definitely. I’m just intellectually overwhelming,” you deadpanned, rolling your eyes. “How could they ever appreciate my passion for algebra?”

Lewis burst out laughing, pulling you closer. “Exactly. They don’t even realize they’re sitting in the presence of greatness. Legends are never appreciated in their time.”

“Legend? Please,” you said, swatting him lightly. “If anything, I’m the stuff of nightmares. The teacher who ruined their dreams of becoming TikTok stars.”

“Hey, at least you’re memorable!” Lewis smirked, leaning in a little closer. “In 20 years, they’ll be telling their kids about the time Mrs. Hamilton shut down their music career before it even began.”

You groaned, rubbing your temples. “Fantastic. I’ll be a cautionary tale.”

“Better than being forgotten,” he teased, raising his eyebrows. “Plus, you’re probably giving them some quality meme material. They’ll thank you later.”

You shot him an amused glare. “Oh, so that’s my legacy now? Being the ‘meme teacher’?”

“Hey, memes are forever,” Lewis said with a mischievous grin. “That’s practically immortal in today’s world.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his ridiculous logic. “I hate that you’re kind of right.”

Lewis leaned back, smug. “I’m always right.”

“You were just confused about slang 10 minutes ago,” you pointed out.

“Details, details,” he waved a hand dismissively. “The important thing is, your students secretly adore you. And if not, well…” He shrugged. “At least you’ve still got me.”

“Lucky me,” you muttered playfully, sinking back into his arms with a contented sigh.

“Hey, not everyone is in the presence of a seven-time Formula One World Champion!” Lewis shot back, puffing out his chest dramatically and poking your cheek for emphasis.

You groaned, shoving his hand away with a playful glare. “Your ego is huge, Lew. Like, it barely fits in this apartment.”

He smirked, unbothered. “What can I say? It’s all part of the package.”

“Oh, is that what it is? A package?” you shot back, crossing your arms. “Well, I hope it comes with a refund policy because this ego is too much.”

Lewis laughed, pretending to think for a moment. “Nah, sorry, no returns. You’re stuck with me—and the ego. Non-refundable, no exchanges.”

You sighed dramatically, rolling your eyes. “Great. Just what I wanted. A husband and his oversized confidence.”

“Hey,” he said, feigning offense. “It’s not confidence. It’s facts.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “Right. ‘Facts.’ I swear, if you had an award for every time you talked about your seven championships, we’d need a separate room just for the trophies.”

Lewis grinned, raising an eyebrow. “Funny you mention that. I was just thinking we could clear out the guest room and—”

“No,” you interrupted, giving him a playful shove. “Not happening.”

He chuckled, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you close. “Fine, fine. But you can’t blame me for being proud. You did marry a legend, after all.”

You snorted. “A legend with an ego the size of a racetrack.”

“Hey, you’re the one who chose this life,” he teased, kissing the top of your head. “No refunds, remember?”

You sighed, leaning into him with a smirk. “Yeah, yeah. Guess I’ll just have to live with it.”

“Sooo,” Lewis started, drawing the word out with that familiar grin you knew meant trouble. “Ever think of wanting… kids together?”

You blinked, then slowly turned to face him, squinting suspiciously. “Kids? Together? Us?”

Lewis grinned wider, leaning in. “Yeah, you know—tiny humans that look like us, say funny things, and maybe, just maybe, follow in my footsteps. Mini-Hamiltons.” He wiggled his eyebrows dramatically, clearly enjoying the moment.

You raised a hand to stop him. “First of all, you’ve clearly forgotten the part where I just said I hate kids. Secondly, tiny humans that are half you? Lewis, I barely manage one of you.”

He laughed, completely unfazed. “Come on, you love me. Imagine—little curly-haired kids running around, making you laugh, driving you crazy. It’s the dream.”

You snorted. “The nightmare, you mean. I already have to keep your ego in check. Now you want me to manage a whole pack of baby egos that think they’re Formula One drivers straight out of the womb?”

“Exactly,” Lewis teased, poking your side. “Imagine—little racers, pulling wheelies on their tricycles, practicing pit stops with toy cars. We’d be unstoppable.”

You stared at him, wide-eyed. “No. Absolutely not. I already see it—them racing in the house, breaking things, you teaching them how to do donuts in the living room.”

Lewis gave a mock shrug. “Well, they’d have to learn from the best, right? Legacy, babe. It’s all about legacy.”

You buried your face in your hands, laughing in disbelief. “A legacy of destruction. Fantastic. Let me just call the furniture store now and order everything in crash-proof material.”

Lewis leaned in closer, lowering his voice like he was sharing a secret. “Okay, but imagine this: family go-kart days, mini helmets with Hamilton written across the back, and you as the team principal. We’d be unstoppable.”

“Team principal?” you deadpanned, lifting your head from your hands. “Lewis, if I’m in charge, the first thing I’m doing is banning anything with wheels in this house.”

Lewis burst out laughing, pulling you into a hug. “Alright, alright, no go-karts in the living room… yet. But seriously, can’t you see it? You’d be an amazing mom.”

You paused, softening a bit as you looked up at him. “I don’t know, Lew. I mean, if our kids inherit your energy, we might need to hire a whole pit crew just to keep up with them.”

He grinned, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “That’s what makes it exciting. We’d make a great team.”

You sighed, half in amusement, half in surrender. “We’ll see. For now, let’s focus on surviving you, okay?”

“Deal,” Lewis said, laughing as he held you close. “But I’m telling you, one day, we’re gonna need matching family race suits.”

You groaned, but smiled. “God help me.”

-fin-

PLEASE SEND REQUESTSSSSSS IM BEGGING OMFGGG I'M FINALLY A LITTLE BIT FREE

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW GLAD I AM THAT YOUR WRITE FOR SPTO THANK YOUUUU

UGH okay, my craziness aside; could you try “I think I’m in love with you” with Matthew Patel? It doesn’t matter who says it, I jsut think it’d be adorable (I adore that funky theatre punk so so much <3)

Thank you so much and have a wonderful day/night!!

"Do it!"

"Come on, Lord Matthew!"

"We're getting impatient.."

"Maybe we'll go in and tell them ourselves-"

"Ladies, that's enough! I will tell them myself...i-in a minute. First, I need to rehearse what I'm going to say..I can't mess this up."

The demon hipster chicks could only stare at their master with blank expressions, knowing damn well that he was stalling the inevitable:

That being his confession to you.

You two go back as far as middle school, with you being the first friend he ever made who didn't mind his weirdness or mystical powers. Plus, you shared his admiration for the theater and dramatics when he started obsessing over those, becoming his number one supporter.

Until now, Matthew never thought he'd fall for you like he did Ramona. But he feared rejection, ridicule, or worse--the relationship being extremely short-lived and him never getting to experience a "true love's kiss".

Once was painful enough.

He couldn't go through that again.

Of course, his demon hipster chicks knew all about this and the months he's spent pining after you. As much as they didn't like you "stealing" away his attention...they realized you made their master genuinely happy.

And above everything else, they wanted him to be happy.

So they were thrilled when he summoned them, seeing that they were at the doorstep to your apartment and squealing upon noticing the giftbox he had for you.

Finally, he seemed ready to move on from Ramona.

Yet....he had spent ten solid minutes pacing along the floor and trying to hype himself up, his confidence totally shot, before he eventually stopped in front of your door again.

"Okay, I got it! Erm..."Roses are red, violets are--" no, that's stupid. It's too cliche! Everybody uses that!" Shaking his head, he tried to think of something else. ""Hey, would you like to be the Romeo to my Juliet--" ohh, what am I saying?! That's not romantic!! That would mean our relationship could end in tragedy...UGH!!"

"Don't overthink it, my lord." One of the demons whispered to him. "Just tell them how you feel."

"....it can't be that simple, can it?"

"....."

"..alright. I'll take your advice. I'm going for it." With a nervous swallow, he bowed his head and raised a hand to knock at the door-

Only for it to swing open, causing him to freeze in-place and look up to see you on the other side. He quickly hid both hands behind his back, hoping you didn't see the gift. "H-Hi.."

"Oh hey, Matty. Hey, girls." You smiled, looking past him and waving to the demons. But as your gaze shifted back to his, you wondered why he seemed extremely nervous. "Are you feeling okay?"

"..yeah. Just..wanted to see how you were doing." Pink was starting to dust his cheeks. "Did you uh...know I was going to come visit?"

"Um...yeah? You texted me earlier."

"......"

"And I saw you outside my window and figured you forgot the spare key."

"Shit..did I?" Matthew checked his coat pockets, feeling more embarrassed to know he forgot such a simple thing. All because he couldn't stop thinking about you. "I guess I did forget.......how about I go get it?"

You blinked in confusion. "Huh? But you're-"

"I'll be back, I swear-?!!"

The second he tried to run away, two of the demons grabbed a hold of his arms, dragging him into your apartment, while the other two guarded the door it in case he attempted another escape. He yelled in outrage, putting up a bit of struggle before they let go.

At this point, he was seething red, prepared to yell at them for their betrayal and the humiliation it brought upon him...

But they just winked and disappeared, the last one wishing him luck.

Of course.

"I can't believe it! The nerve of those-"

"What was that all about? You're acting kinda..odd, Matthew." Raising an eyebrow, you sat down on your sofa, having no clue why the man in front of you looked so flustered.

"I....have something I need to say." He decided to sit beside you, sighing heavily. "[Y/n], I think....I..I..."

"Yes?"

"...I-I think I'm in love with you!" Finally blurting it out, he closed his eyes and handed you the box, too afraid to see your expression. "I know it's sudden but..you've always been there for me. Ever since I found my passion for theater. Ever since Ramona dumped me...you were by my side. A-And I feel like I took that for granted. I thought I only wanted revenge against those who wronged me....but no. I want something better. I want love...and I want to be yours. So please...let me prove that I can be a good boyfriend and not evil!"

Part of him wanted to curl up and die as he continued babbling on and on about his feelings, thinking about the hundreds of other ways he could have done this.

He could flawlessly play the role of a love interest in a musical or play and move the audience to tears so effortlessly. But off-stage, he felt like a bumbling lovesick idiot who isn't making any sense to his crush..

There's no way you could love him back.

Not after seeing him like this.

Yet after feeling the box being removed from his hands, Matthew bravely opened his eyes, watching as you took out the black and red roses he put inside it. The thorns have been clipped off, allowing you to twirl the stems in your fingers for a moment or two.

Then you looked at him with the brightest of smiles, laughing softly. "Of course you'd give me roses, you dork. That's so....you." You set them aside before moving closer, taking his hands into yours. "I'm trusting you to uphold that promise."

His heart was soaring.

He must definitely be dreaming right now.

"S-So...it's a yes?"

You chuckled, nodding. "Yes. And...I promise to be with you for longer than a week."

That got him choked up. He couldn't say anything else in that moment, as his only response was pulling you into a tight hug and hiding his face in your neck.

Thank god he didn't ruin this.

You just smiled and held him close, relieved that he finally decided to try loving again. When he calmed down enough to look back up into your eyes, that's when you both decided to go for the kiss--just in case he had any more doubts in his mind.

And there were sparks galore.