#I'm trying to analyze his preferences

[blueeyeddarkknight]

Val drinking from a mug / ceramic cup thingy 🤔☕🍵💅✨

Also I'd like to take a moment to point out Val's different and interesting ways of holding a cup😂 ( he just can't be normal and I love him for it)

Let me know which one are you? 👇😊

[seventh-district]

not even gonna tag this properly bc i don't wanna get Involved but i do have some Thoughts i need to get out into the void so here we go

(aaa quick edit: CW for mention/discussion of Boothill leaks)

[m0chisenpai]

Hi! Can you do a Armand x Fem!reader x Louis? She would be an assistant of Daniel’s. They have sorta a thing for her but are trying to ease up because she’s not as open to the whole camp thing or lowkey doesn’t believe them.

off the record

˚｡⋆ louis de pointe du lac x black!fem!reader x armand

in which Daniel neglected to coach you how to deal with the behind the scenes of the creative process

author note: I had too much fun writing this, I love the idea of this trio so much

There takes a certain level of thick skin to work for Daniel Molloy. He wasn't a terrible boss. Just a difficult old man with extremely particular needs and ways he worked. But when he found you, you were an intern with well regarded credentials and grades, but according to your counselor you were headstrong and outspoken.

He accepted your application instantly and by the next year you were his official, and most longstanding, assistant. You juggled his interviews and meetings with editors, and only recently have you begun to manage his doctors appointments.

You traveled with him, it was a non-negotiable that you were to come and expenses were covered, but Dubai was the last thing you'd expected. You’d been nearly to all the states, but for Daniel’s health anything out the country was once in a while and planned carefully.

The first night of the interview you aren’t present. Daniel can tell when he stops by your room, how your eyes droop. Your feet shuffle to greet him at the door.

He lets you sleep, but he won't say its out of care, that he's filled with guilt for dragging you into a penthouse of supernatural apex killers. After that you are a fly on the wall just as he always instructed you to be.

Beside him, eyes down, fingers moving and taking notes when he mutters something to you.

Louis asks who you are on the third night, "I never took you for a man who needs help Daniel." You won't admit, but your heart picks up, but you keep yor eyes on the computer screen and let Daniel respond for you.

"Not an intern, she's one of the few ones who didn't run crying after a week working for me."

Your lips turn up at this, one of the few moments he would ever compliment you.

"She truly is like you." His eyes must be on you again, but a shiver washes dwn your spine. Like someones nail ghosts the skin on your back, trailing down your spine. And another hand, caresses the back of your neck.

"Stay out out my mind," you mumble.

"My apologies, just wanted to know about our surprise second guest." Now you dare to look up at him. Ghosts, goblins, vampires werewolves were for shows pandering toward a female audience that wanted to drool over men too beautiful and perfect to ever enter their mundane lives.

You scoff and return your focus to the notes in front of you. "Save the immortal hack for Daniel Mr Du Lac."

Your skin crawls at the way he tilts his head ever so slightly, and in that cocky drawl offers another apology.

"Mr Du Lac and his companion would like to dine with you."

You assume it's in regards to the interviews. You bring your compuer and personal notepad along with Daniels. But what you are met with are two wine glasses side by side paired with the men on the couch, one sits in front of them.

Their gzes are unblinking as you enter, setting your things and carefully crossing one leg over the other.

"I'm sorry we are meeting so late, or would it be early sir."

"Call me Louis, the pleasure is mine. My companion Armand wanted to join our meeting this evening."

Armand creeps you out, how his golden eyes stare you, analyzing you. Trying to convince you of this facade. You'd prefer it if it were just Louis and you. You can manage being alone with the latter.

"Daniel tells us you think none of this to be real."

"It's true. I find the supernatural charade boring," you pick up the yellow pad and pen. "But I'm not paid to to dig any deeper than he asks me to."

"You weren't able to join the first interview because too were tired. I could hear your heart the entire time, you didn't sleep. Kept tossing and turning the entire night."

"An easy observation, can we focus on-"

"Thoughts were racing an awful lot too," Louis looks up in fake thought "is any of this worth it, why waste my time on a rich hack. I could be back home."

Once again you cut him off Pitching the bridge of your nose, "another keen observation please try and do better, now in session 2-"

"Your father took your mother here." Armand speaks up now and your heart stops, "those earrings she gifted you were from here. In fact in your dreams the previous evening you dreamt of taking them both here. You started planning it with the money that will come out of this interview."

Every word accelerates your heart, it makes Louis smile "Careful cher, your heart might beat out your chest."

Your hands shake as they swipe the glass of wine in front of you, you take two large gulps. Clutching it for comofrt.

"My apologies, I did not wish to cause any distress."

"I'm sorry, I need a moment." You leave your things behind and return to your room that night. The next morning a letter from the two sits by breakfast along with your things in a neat pile.

Eerily it is exactly what you were thinking of yesterday morning, it is french toast made from the fluffiest brioche. With a side of bacon, turkey, you hated pork. Armand asks to speak to you while Daniel rests along with Louis.

Once you eat and shower quickly putting on a sweater to combat the chill you find him in the study.

He sits, almost like he is waiting.

"It was not our intent to alarm you" his eyes follow you as you sit.

"You are more than qualified to work for any other reporter on your own, yet you work for...him. Why?"

"He was the only one to look pass the observations of my advisor, I wasn''t going to be just an errand girl. Not too many publishers cared for my opinions."

"You didn't believe Mr.Molloy was interviewing a vampire yet you still followed him here."

"It's not my book. I'm a fly on the wall."

"But if it were your story?"

You pause in thought, and stare into those unsettling eyes after a moment. "I would have interviewed Claudia had she survived. I feel her story needs to be heard."

You answer more of his prodding questions till you return to your room for lunch. A wrap o some sort with nuts and fruits on the side. And a pile of little girls diaries with white gloves and a not to handle with caution.

Armand won't voice his affinity for you as Louis does. You won't admit the way his eyes settle on you as you enter the room makes you preen, makes your heart fuzzy and your head feel like it wants to float away.

The interview goes on tonight with Armand joining. They once more talk about Lestat. You try and fight your eyes from rolling as you read through an email.

'If I hear his name one more time I might gouge my ears out.'

'Don't torture yourself like that cher.' Your eyes look to him, but he remains focused on Daniel, listening to Armand. How does one multitask like that? Two conversations at once must be hard.

'Years of practice.'

'And whats with all this chere nonsense?'

'Would you prefer your name instead?'

'No' your cheeks warm in embarassment "I...enjoy it."

"Get me some pictures of this theatre." Daniel's instructions get your attention, "and whatever memorabilia you can find." You nod typing that onto your list of many other things to do.

'I will help you with that tonight, after the session I've arranged for dinner tonight' Armand now stares at you and that damned feeling begins to creep back in 'no pork as per your request.'

Daniel coughs obnoxiously getting the elder vampires attention. "You were saying?" This time when you look down, a smile only the pair can detect makes its way upon your lips.

They stare at you less, leave your mind alone as per your request. And indulge in your blunt questions. Each night you find yourself slowly feeling less discomfort. You almost wish you could stay, you think to yourself one night now dining with the two looking at pictures of Louis in his younger years.

He sits beside you, smiling as he watches your hands carefully hold the photos from their time in France.

"No fair, Paris is top of my bucket list."

"I'd be more than happy to take you," Louis gives you that smirk which you roll your eyes in playfulness at.

"Sure you will."

"We could take you anywhere you would like" Armand states.

"Ibizia?"

"Gladly."

"Bali."

"Sure."

Even though you still doubt their supernatural nature. You indulge them. Unknown that just as much as you have them wrapped around your finger, they have you caught in a web.

And they'll patiently wait for you to realize that there are some beings whose hearts you should never toy with. For the results afterwards, are eternal.

[simpee9000]

Not Just Friends - 1 -

Prologue : Next Part : Not edited : 3.6k words : M.List

Childhood best friends turned into something more, at least with the label. Katsuki Bakugo, a fast-rising hero and fast-learning guy who is ever so slow in getting attached to and loving someone. Even three long years into a relationship, and your friends even forget you're even dating. Nothing happening, spare a few kisses.. like 3 kisses, during high school. Graduated and living together, and you guys have done absolutely nothing to further the relationship. Are you sure you're not just friends? CW: Smut, brief domestic violence discussion, virginity loss, aggressive flirting from creeps, gore with pro hero stuff (lmk if i missed any) Applies to all chapters regardless of it is in said chapter.

"How was work?" You asked, putting your coffee cup filled with tea down on the coffee table aside from the couch. Not looking up from the chapter book that rested in your hands.

A sigh was all that left his lips as you heard him kick his boots off and hang his keys next to the door.

"That bad?" you asked, looking up at the ash blonde who was now rubbing his face roughly as he made his way over to the couch you were laid across. He hummed in response. With you laid across the couch, back rested against the armrest, you pulled your feet in to make room for him. He sat down roughly, instantly sinking all of his weight into the couch. He looked at you briefly, "You don't gotta do that y'know?"

"Do what?" you peered at him confused. He just rolled his eyes lazily and grabbed your legs to stretch them out again, placing them over his lap. He didn't look back at you, just closed his eyes and leaned his head back, resting his hands on your calves. It was hard to mask the surprise on your face, normally after a rough day he would take a shower and prefer to be alone for the night, maybe making dinner for the two of you and watching a show. Yet he hardly ever asked for physical touch.

"Do you want to watch a show?" you asked, trying to determine the type of help he wanted.

He sat silent for a moment, "How was your day?" He leaned his head to the side, looking at you.

You fought over the questions that came up, confused about why he chose you as a topic. But you chose against bringing them up, "Just did some quick testing for new equipment, I'm about to be finished with your new gloves too. They just finished the first stage of testing," you smiled, hoping the good news would make him happy. After all, he asked for new gloves close to a month ago.

He just stared at your face for a while before you realized he wanted you to continue. The words caught in your mouth as you analyzed the look on his face for a moment. Thinking that maybe this was the 'look' your close friends always talked about. The face that showed how truly in love he was with you.

"I also finished Z's stuff," Izuku, "so today was a productive day. Yet it was easy too, all I really needed to do was your stuff and his. After that it was just paperwork," you added on. Picking up the throw pillow on the couch and placing it in your lap to play with the tassels on the edges. Avoiding the overwhelming look he was giving you. "Came home only an hour ago, showered, and picked up my book," you looked down at the book that was placed on the couch beside you, where you placed it when Katsuki sat down.

You normally came home an hour before him. He always sent you a text saying he'd be home soon, so you packed up from work and headed home after receiving it. It was one of the best perks about being head of your technical support department. It maximized your time with him. Leaving the house shortly after him every day, and coming home only an hour before him. Kept you productive and caught up at work every day, never stressing about due dates because of how often you were at work.

"That's nice," Katsuki finally spoke, eyes soft as he looked over every feature on your face. When you looked up you saw the dark circles that surrounded his eyes.

"How was your day?" You asked softly, trying to tell him he didn't need to answer.

He squeezed your calf, looking away from you for the first time since he sat down. "Rough," he said, voice slightly cracked.

"What happened?" you pushed.

He sighed, "A young couple was caught in a bad villain attack, she didn't make it."

Katsuki always took deaths hard, as any hero did. He saw himself as a complete failure after every death. It's only happened personally to him a couple of times and he always took it just as roughly. Often following you around the apartment after getting home, gluing himself to your presences.

No words would help him. All you could think of was trying to console him in any way possible. So you got up from your spot, shifting your body so you could lean your head against his shoulder. Feeling him instantly rest his head against yours. You fumbled for the TV remote, putting on one of his favorite movies before you fully rested against him. Wrapping your arms around his, hugging him close.

Moments like this were far and in between for the two of you. You hardly hugged, only on the bad or good days. But despite that, he still felt like home. You wished this would be the daily but were okay to settle for what he was okay with. Never wanting to push him too far.

This.

This was your normal for the bad days. The good days just had a celebratory hug and that was it.

-

A couple of days passed and you were out with friends. With you forcing Katsuki to come out as well. After all, the group has been inviting him for the past six months. Izuku, Uraraka, Todoroki, Tsuu, Ida, Momo, Mei and her friend Nana were all there. All of you were sat in Izuku's living room. Izuku was across the coffee table from you, seated in a matching lounge chair as the one Katsuki was in behind you. You opting to sit on the floor in front of Katsuki, wanting to be closer to the girls who also chose to sit on the floor. Uraraka seated in front of Izuku, Mei, and Nana seated in front of the TV but facing the group, Todoroki, Ida, and Momo all sat on the couch, and Tsuu was on the floor beside you.

The conversation naturally divided, the boys choosing to talk about the new ranks and techniques they've learned and the girls talking about whatever. You shifted focus between the two conversations, keeping track of the hero equipment the boys might need. You were deeply invested in the rant Izuku fell into about how he'd need new gloves to combat his new move.

Your attention was snapped to the girls when your name was called out. All of them awaiting your response. "Sorry, wasn't paying attention," you blinked at them.

"Oh, Nana was just talking about her relationship problems, and you're in one right?" Mei asked, helping Nana out since this was the first time she's hung out with the group and she was rather shy.

You furrowed your brows, "Yeah? Whatsup?" After all, they did just ask if you were in a relationship right in front of your boyfriend. Maybe Mei was filling Nana in.

"So," Nana started, messing with her hands, "my partner is um, sorry I don't know how to explain it well." Mei shot Nana a smile, nodding at her to go ahead. She took a deep breath, "So, my love language is physical touch and they aren't very strong on it. And I just don't know what to do, like should I try to work it out or is the relationship dead? I've had a relationship like this before and it died off fast."

"I say it's dead," Mei added. Uraraka and Tsuu nodding in agreement as well.

Momo sighed, "I think communication is needed first, then decided. Try to work around it first."

You looked between the girls, "I agree with Momo, not trying doesn't solve anything. Plus if you could work around it with your second strongest love language, I think it could still work, if they really couldn't meet halfway with physical touch."

"What do you mean?" Nana tilted her head at you, and all of the girl's eyes shifted to you.

You flushed, "Well for me, like in my relationship," you cringed at the idea of bluntly talking about it right in front of him. Hopefully, Izuku's ramble would keep him from paying attention. "My biggest love language is physical touch, but he doesn't quite like it so there isn't a lot of it. So," you struggled to find the words to properly explain how your relationship was working, "My second favorite is quality time, I guess, and we spend a lot of time together. The other three are also up there, He often cooks for me and stuff, buying me random things too. And our relationship works just fine," you shrugged.

Mei frowned at you, "How are you still with him if he doesn't do your favorite thing?" disgust listed in her voice.

"Well I'm okay with whatever he is okay with," you brushed off her disdain.

"I don't know how you do it either," Tsuu agreed.

"Nana, maybe you shouldn't listen to her," Mei shrugged, "A relationship won't work long-term if that's how you go about it. Maybe just talk to them first but if they can't meet halfway leave."

"Yeah," Nana looked around shyly, giving you a sympathetic smile.

You leaned back into Katsuki's chair, giving up on the conversation as the girls carried it away. Only then did you notice that Katsuki was tapping his foot aggressively. When you looked up at the blonde, his hands were clenched and folded into his chest as he stared straight ahead with a frown.

He was clearly done with the group outing.

You stood up, gaining the eyes of everyone in the room. "Kats and I are going to head out," you announced. Walking over to grab his and your coat. Katsuki getting up as well to meet you at the door.

"Oh lemme walk you out," Izuku jumped up, walking to you guys as the rest waved and said their goodbyes from their seats.

Izuku walked the both of you to the elevator, "You're leaving earlier than normal, everything okay?" Izuku whispered to you.

"You know Kats doesn't like outings," you smiled at him, "Nothing to worry about." Izuku eyed you, knowing what you said wasn't entirely true.

Izuku stood straight up, having leaned down to talk to you, once you reached the elevator. "I'm glad you made it this time Kacchan," Izuku beamed.

Katsuki grumbled in reply, facing away and walking into the opened elevator.

The lack of a 'shut up' confused the both of you. So you turned to huge Izuku goodbye, taking the green-haired boy out of shock. "Nice seeing you 'Z, I'll start working on your new gloves," you smiled.

"Thank you, I'll text you everything I want added," he smiled, "Goodnight!" He waved goodbye before walking back to his door. You turned around to a grumpy Katsuki holding the elevator door open for you.

"Sorry," you mumbled, quickly stepping inside. When the door closed you took the chance to question his, "Whatsup?"

"Nothing," he crossed his arms again.

"Come on Kats," you crossed your arms as well.

He sighed, "Your love language really physical touch?" he looked at you briefly, allowing you to see the embarrassment that coated his cheeks.

You paled at the realization he heard the entire conversation, "Yeah," you admitted, "not a requirement for me though."

He just let out a louder sigh and brought his hands to his face, rubbing his eyes aggressively.

"Kats?"

"What?" he grumbled.

"You okay?" you leaned closer to him, trying to see his face.

"Yeah," he dropped his hands, and stared at the number above the door, watching it tick to the ground floor.

"No you're not-," you tried, being interrupted by the elevator door opening, Katsuki rushing to the parking garage to leave.

Abruptly ending the conversation.

-

The drive home he blasted the radio, not giving you the option to turn it down and talk. Rushing inside your apartment as well. Quickly hiding himself in his room. You turned around with a scoff when he shut the door right in your face, going to your room for the night as well.

The next morning he left without a goodbye, all you heard from him was the front door shutting behind him.

Throughout the work day, he also ignored your messages. Leaving you alone for lunch rather than sharing it with you like he normally did. Not even texting you when he'd be home. The only thing you got from him was his calendar update, which wasn't even intentional. Seeing how he had moved his meetings for the day to fit in a meeting with Izuku last minute for the day.

So without any notice from him, you headed home near 6 in the afternoon. Which was normally the time you came home, so he should be home in an hour. Taking your shoes and coat off when you entered the apartment. Putting your keys away as well. Walking down the hall to your bedroom. Running into the ash blonde leaving his.

He paused for a minute, hand left on his doorknob as he looked at you. You crossed your arms impatiently, for one he was in the way of your bedroom and he also ignored you for the past day. He shut his door eventually, still blocking the hallway.

"Sorry," he muttered.

You drop your arms to your side, "Why?"

"Just felt weird," he mumbled, looking down at your shoes.

"Not going to tell me?" you furrowed your brows. He stayed silent. "Fine," you sighed, "Could you move? I want to shower, I'll be in the living room soon."

He stepped out of the way, moving to the side of the small hallway.

So you did just as you said. Walking into your room to grab clothes then going straight to the shower. Washing the day away as you washed your hair. Thinking over Katsuki's behavior since last night. And his reluctance to talk about it.

When you got out of the shower and dressed, you walked to the living room.

Katsuki was busy cooking, chopping vegetables, and dropping them into the pan. Adding meats and sauces as well. His brows were furrowed and his nose was scrunched. His thinking face. He was in his own world. Breaking out of it when you opened the fridge to grab a drink.

"'M makin' curry, keepin' the spices separate, don't worry," he grumbled over his shoulder.

He was going to play off his behavior like it was normal.

"Okay," you spoke, making your way to sit on the stool placed on the side of the island, seated right in front of him. You took a drink of your drink, "So you had a meeting with Z today?"

His knife paused for a moment, hovering over the carrot he was cutting. He glanced up, "Huh?"

"Your calendar?" you hinted, " I saw that you arranged a meeting with him last second. What did you need to talk about with him?"

He looked back down, "Nothin," he resumed cutting. You shot him a glare. One that, with so much time spent together, he could feel it without even looking. His shoulders sagged, giving in, "Just went over some tactics. I also went to him about a, um," he coughed lightly, "A support item in a way."

You perked up, filled with questions, "How come you didn't come to me?"

"I was askin' him if I should, was trying to see if it was even a good idea," he shrugged.

"What is it?" you crossed your arms, placing your forearms on the counter and leaning on them.

He finished chopping the vegetables, scooping them all into a pot, and letting it simmer. He turned back to you, leaning onto the counter. "So you know how I keep breaking the watches you buy me?"

"Yeah?" you questioned, not knowing how this involved work.

"Well, could you make me one?" he looked at your face. You were waiting for him to continue. "Like make it fireproof, waterproof-"

"Youproof?" you smiled, summing up what he was going to say.

"Yeah," he sighed in relief, glad he didn't have to explain every detail. "But I want one more thing added to it if you can."

"Kats, I can do literally everything," you smiled cockily.

"Can you make it disable my quirk?" he looked down at his hands.

"Why?"

"Just nice to be relaxed without it, can also help with my training. Then could you also make it so no one can try to cancel my quirk? All these quirk-removing things nowadays," he fumbled with his hands, mumbling out his words.

"Probably, I can definitely make it cancel your quirk, but making no one able to cancel yours, will be a bit hard. I'll make it combat most," you suggested.

"Okay," he sighed before looking at you, putting a finger in your face, " Also make it so only I can make it cancel my quirk. Like, put a password or some shit on it."

"Trust me, I was going to anyways," you laughed.

"Good," he grunted, turning back to the food on the stove.

"How come you needed Z for that?" you asked after a bit.

"Didn't know if it'd kill me or something," he shrugged. You wished you could have seen his face but his back was facing you.

"Also, Kats," you called. He turned to face you, "Answer my texts next time, hard to tell if you're alive or not," you frowned.

"Sorry," he mumbled, looking back to his food.

The conversation died at that, switching to him talking about what he was cooking. Filling up the silence with meaningless words and the scraping of food being placed in a bowl for you.

He placed a bowl in front of you and sat beside you. You could have eaten at the table but walking didn't seem like something you wanted to do, despite it only being a couple of steps away. Shaking your head when he asked if you wanted to eat at the table.

After a few bites of food and small talk about the other day, your phone buzzed. Face up on the table between you two. Lighting up with an unknown number

xxx-xxxx

Hey! This is Nana from last night. I got your number from Mei, I apologize if you don't appreciate that-

You opened your phone to read the rest, leaving it on the table as you continued to eat.

xxx-xxxx

Hey! This is Nana from last night. I got your number from Mei, I apologize if you don't appreciate that but I felt the need to text you. I saw how uncomfortable you were last night, talking about your boyfriend. And how he doesn't like touching you. I hope you know it's okay, and people are there for you. I was in a relationship like that once, and it was hard but it ended and I'm okay now. I remember how uncomfortable I was talking about him, making up excuses for how our relationship worked. How he refused to touch me, unless it was.. harshly, for lack of a better word, and degraded me. Reminded me of how you were talking about your boyfriend. Just know I'm here for you, and you're beautiful and strong.

You read over the text a couple of times, trying to make sure you understood what she was saying. After you were one hundred percent sure, you looked up from your phone, glancing at Katsuki, who was staring at your phone like he wanted to kill it. Holding his spoon like it shot his foot.

"She thinks I fuckin' beat you or somethin'?" He looked at you.

You looked back down at your phone, "Think so."

"The fuck?" he put his spoon back into his bowl roughly, "The fuck did I do?"

"I don't think she realized I was dating you," you defend.

"Still? How in the hell?" he glared at your phone, "Just cause we don't touch a shit ton that means I fuckin' beat you?"

"Kats-" you reached a hand out towards him.

"No," he stood up, "That's fucking bullshit. It's not that bad that we don't, right?" He looked at you "Right?"

"Right," you confirmed, "She misread the situation that's all. Now eat," you pointed to his food. "I'll let her know she was wrong, and that we are fine and happy."

"Are we?" he asked, voice soft. You looked at him, the words stabbing at your heart. "Are you?" he reworded, voice on edge.

"Katsuki, what?" you looked at his eyes. He looked lost. "Katsuki," you spoke softly, "Of course I am, I'm with the best. Why wouldn't I be?"

He brought his hands to his face, rubbing at his face as he always did. "Okay, just," he grumbled, "Fuck, I don't know." He went quiet, sitting down and finishing his bowl of curry before washing his empty dish, and taking yours when you were done.

He was overwhelmed and frustrated, so you stayed quiet as well. Texting Nana back instead.

-You-

Hi! I appreciate this but the situation was completely misread. I was just uncomfortable because he was sitting right behind me. The ash blonde, number two hero Dynamight. Felt weird talking about my relationship with him right there. I'm very happy with him, so nothing bad is happening. Thank you for your concern, and I'm glad you got out of that bad relationship. I hope your new partner fixes their behavior.

Nana

I am so sorry then. I had no idea! I shouldn't have assumed. I should have asked a bit more about it before I jumped straight to that conclusion, I am so sorry!

"I texted her," you told Katsuki, "She feels bad and had no idea I was dating you."

He grunted in reply, walking on scrubbing the dish in his hands. "When can you get my watch done?" he switched topics.

"Maybe a month, with the whole people can't cancel your quirk," you shrugged, "Could you write me everything you want added to it?"

"Yeah," he mumbled, "I'll leave a note on the counter for you tomorrow."

-Next Part-

In them m.list of this fic comment if you want to be added into a tag list <3

I'll no longer add people to the taglist if they haven't commented there. It's too much to keep up with all the new part. Hope you understand <3

[lis-likes-fics]

The Sound of His Voice

Pairings: Spencer Reid x agent!Reader Word Count: 3k words Warnings: Descriptions of crime scenes/vague gore, mentions of death and murder, standard Criminal Minds stuff, fluff otherwise... A/N: I started watching CM a while ago and now I can't stop so enjoy this. There will be more, I dunno when. (Should I be working on my months-in-progress-wips? Yes, I absolutely should. Am I? Mostly. I'm trying my best)

Morgan rubs his temple, digging his fingers into the side of his forehead as he shakes his head. Tapping his pen on the desk, he tosses down his file. “But here's what I don't get,” he says, drawing the attention of the rest of the team. “If the unsub thinks of his victims as prey, even going as far as to torture the victim, why go through all the trouble of tucking them into bed?”

Hotch looks back at the picture in his own hands, where he had been analyzing the scene for the hundredth time in search of something he missed the first hundred. He shrugs, “Tucking them in can usually indicate signs of remorse.”

JJ motions to the pictures. “Yeah, but look at this guy. Does this look remorseful to you?”

You lift a shoulder, leaning back in your seat and crossing your arms. “Could be a second unsub.”

You are a relatively new addition to the team. It was your fifth case with them, but they already treated you like part of the team, like family. It was easy to sink into the ebb and flow of everything, especially when they trust your skills and instincts and let you know when you're doing something wrong so you know not to do it again.

But this case was difficult. Your unsub had a strange profile: an organized, white male, with surgical experience and the MO reminiscent of a cat. He kills men and women alike, and the only connection between his victims have been their smaller statures.

The age range itself was too wide, though there was a slight reoccurrence of ages between 25 and 35. But it was still too wide, either way, not enough to work with.

He ties up and tortures them before finally ending their lives with strangulation. He uses his bare hands to get the job done, which makes him a sexual sadist. As if that wasn't enough, he carves out the victim’s heart after death and takes it as a trophy.

He shows plenty of psychopathic characteristics, but he also fits the profile of a sociopath, so it's hard to make anything stick. His MO suggests a lack of empathy and guilt, but the bed-tucking… You always lose him with the bed-tucking…

Morgan shakes his head a little, humming. “But we already ruled out multiple unsubs,” he says. You nod gently. “Besides, if this guy is mimicking the hunting habits of a cat, he would hunt alone, wouldn't he?”

Reid’s head perks up. He points a pen in Morgan's direction as he shakes his head. “Actually, no.” He licks his lips, and he's grabbed your attention like a siren to a sailor. “It's a very common misconception that cats are loners, but it's untrue. Cats prefer the companionship of others just as much as a human being would.”

You lean toward him a bit across the table, watching him as he speaks, his hands moving to illustrate his words as he does. “People often think, because of their aloof nature, that they like to be left alone or actually despise the presence of other people, including their owners or other cats—which is why people believe them to be low maintenance creatures. But they are just as social as, say, a dog. Actually, it's interesting, big cats like lions, or sometimes even cheetahs, hunt in packs to take down larger prey. Domestic cats–”

“Reid,” Morgan interrupts, making a cutting motion with his hand to his neck.

Your eyes turn back to Spencer, who seems to retreat in on himself a bit as he gives an apologetic smile and a small nod. “Sorry,” he says, pulling his lips in a wide smile.

You set a hand on the table, shaking your head. “No, keep going. That was interesting.”

Spencer looks at you with these eyes that seem to shine. Your heart feels fonder, warmer, at the sight of him.

“We really don't have time to go through all of this,” Hotch says, his tone final.

“I mean,” you continue. Since joining the team, you've grown a certain affinity toward Spencer and his genius mind. Every time he's gone on his tangents, you've become enchanted by the words coming out of his mouth like he's put some sort of spell over you. You lift a shoulder, gesturing toward him. “If this guy is basing his MO off the hunting patterns of cats, we should…know everything we need to know about them, right?”

Hotch looks at you, his face hard and unreadable. You're unsure if he's considering your proposal or just trying to intimidate you. But then he sighs, his crossed arms loosening a little as he turns to Spencer.

“Reid?”

Spencer looks between you and Hotch, relenting hesitantly as he starts off slow. “Well…I was going to say domestic cats are solitary hunters but sociable creatures.” He picks up his normal speed once more, “They can be very affectionate, especially toward their owners and other cats within their households. They're also one of the only types of cats who play with their prey before killing them, which could be a reason this unsub tortures his victims so extensively in his murders.”

“Wait…” Prentiss says, catching all of your attentions. “You said ‘affectionate toward their owners’.”

“Yeah,” Spencer nods.

She waves her hands gently, “How do cats show affection for their owners?”

Spencer shrugs, “Um, bunting, purring, some scratch, sometimes they leave offerings, like dead rodents, around the house–”

“Right there!” Prentiss exclaims. “They leave offerings.”

You sit up, “The hearts.”

Hotch’s dark brows furrow. “You're saying this unsub is taking the hearts as an offering to someone else?”

Spencer thinks over that, nodding. “It's possible.”

JJ sighs. “But that still doesn't explain why we wouldn't have identified a second unsub earlier.”

Spencer holds out a hand, pointing with his pen. “Actually, it could. You see, cats also have the tendency to mimic the people they hold affection for. We might not have noticed a second MO because the submissive unsub may be mimicking the dominant one.”

“Or learning from him,” Morgan says.

“Learning?” Hotch asks.

Morgan glances around, “Well, if we're sticking so close to this cat thing, older cats often nurture the young and teach them to hunt.” He shrugs, “We could be looking at…brothers? Older and younger?”

“Or lovers,” JJ suggests. She points to a picture, the image of a chest carefully carved open to reveal a missing heart. “If the hearts are offerings, it could be a Valentine.”

“And the bed-tucking?” you ask.

Hotch picks up the picture of one of the victims, “safely” and securely tucked into bed…put to sleep. “Well, if the hearts are offerings for a lover, this unsub is sentimental. He could feel some type of sympathy or guilt for the victim and want to ‘put them to sleep’ after the torture.” He studies the image, a flash of unease behind his eyes that you know all too well. He sets it down.

“Okay, so how do we find them?” Prentiss asks, clicking her pen before setting it down to begin a definitive course of action.

Spencer points to yet another picture. “Look at these injuries. These incisions are surgical,” he clarifies. “So the dominant is a doctor or a—a veterinarian, which can be implied through his intimate knowledge of cats’ behaviors.”

“And the submissive might work under him as a nurse or an assistant,” you continue, adding on to his clever insight. He glances over at you, smiling almost giddily at your understanding.

Hotch turns to Morgan. “Do you think that's enough to work with?”

Morgan thinks for a moment, his shrug melding into a nod as he turns back to Hotch. “To fit in with the rest of the profile,” he hums, “I'd say so.”

“Okay.” Hotch nods firmly. “We'll present the profile ASAP. Morgan, get Garcia to search for any vets in the area with any records of assault charges.” He says this all while taking long strides toward the door, his red tie bouncing slightly with his movements.

Prentiss follows him with her gaze as he exits. “You think the unsub is aggressive?”

He turns briefly. “Look at the bruising on the neck. The torture alone is an indicator of anger and frustration, but the way the victim was strangled suggests force. Much more than necessary just to crush a windpipe. He's an organized killer with a lot of rage. If he moves more along the lines of a sociopath, our best guess is he's had some kind of trouble with the law at some point in his life,” he concludes. Glancing aside, he speaks again, a little more firmly. “Morgan.”

“On it,” he says, his phone already ready to contact Garcia on speed dial.

“And Reid,” Hotch says, focusing his hard stare on the younger agent.

He stiffens, straightening his back and awaiting his response. “Yes?”

There's a pause as Hotch examines him silently. With a single nod, he says, “Good work.”

He glances at you. A nod.

You nod back.

Hotch leaves in a hurry, and your gaze immediately and instinctively flicks to Spencer. He smiles at you, turning away as though he was shyly hiding that same smile.

~

There were two unsubs: a surgical veterinarian and his nurse. You caught them just in time, just as that knife was gleaming in the golden light of the lamps swinging above the three bodies down in the basement of the submissive unsub’s house.

And now you soared 40,000 feet above the ground with another killer put away for good.

Everyone's in their own spirit, placing you across the aisle from JJ and Spencer in their own booths, a crochet set in your lap as you continue one of your projects. Emily's eyes linger on JJ, watching the crease of her brow as she studies case files.

“What are you thinking about?” she asks, setting her book to the side to shift her attention. Derek darts his eyes up from his own book, lifting his brow as he does it.

JJ looks up, breathing in and lifting her shoulder in a half shrug. “I don't know about you,” she says, “but I know that if I got an actual human heart on Valentine's Day, me and my alleged partner would have some serious issues.”

Snorts and chuckles lift from multiple places among the seats, heads shaking and attentions shifting back to their own activities.

But as soon as you hear the first lilt of Spencer's voice, like clockwork, you're a fish on a hook.

“Actually,” he begins, “if we were set back thousands of years, that would not be a very unusual occurrence.” He licks his lips quickly, “You see, Valentine's Day’s origins actually go back to a festival called Lupercal, or Lupercalia. The festival was in itself a very violent and sexually charged affair that lasted roughly three days—from the 13th to the 15th—set in Rome. Its traditions were carried out in two separate locations, firstly–”

“Alright,” JJ rises to her feet, her eyes wide in annoyance as she closes her case file in a large announcement to Spencer. “I'm getting coffee. Do you want anything?”

Spencer purses his lips, that same wide, apologetic grin covering his face as he leans back in his seat and shakes his head. “Uh, no. All good here.”

She nods, turning to walk away, “Great.”

You watch JJ leave, your eyes fall back upon Spencer, who's pulling his book back into his palms to turn his focus back on the pages. His eyes flit over the words at lightning speed, absorbing the information and moving to the next.

Taking your crochet set in your hands, you stand and plop down in JJ’s old spot. Spencer's eyes darts up to you, glancing between you and his book as you set your stuff down and readjust your yarn.

Beginning again, you nod toward him. “You were saying?”

Spencer, his eyes wide and confused and his lips parted in wonder and his cheeks a little pink, stares at you. After remembering he had to respond, he sputters in an attempt to.

“Uh, it's-it's really not that…interesting,” he mumbles, trailing off at the end as he sets his book down, his fingertips pressing against the edge of the desk between the both of you.

“Well,” you look up at him, setting your elbow on the table and tucking your first underneath your chin, “I was very interested.”

His Adam's apple bobs when he swallows. His lips form the word before it comes out of his mouth. “You were?”

You nod, “Mhm.”

Looking at him for a moment—just looking at him for a moment—you take in the pretty sight of his bewildered expression, fascination and confusion and excitement crossing his face in a flurry of emotion.

You move your elbow from the table and pick up your hook, nodding toward him before training your eyes on your work again as you await his words. “Firstly?” you prompt.

Scrambling to organize his thoughts, Spencer nods. As the words form in his brain, he smiles as he thrusts himself into another rant, speaking a little softer so as not to aggravate the rest of the team.

“Well, firstly, the uh— The-the first location was in a cave called Lupercus—named after the Roman fertility god that the celebration was dedicated to—and the second is a public meeting place called the Comitium.”

You tilt your head toward him, smiling a little. “Like the word ‘committee’.”

“Exactly like the word ‘committee’,” he beams.

Your attention, as hard as you tried to split it, becomes entirely caught up in Spencer as you forget about your project and focus your gaze entirely on him. You set your arms on the table separating you and watch as he speaks, your smile definitely too love-sick to be a hint anymore. He seems to lean in closer.

“So how did Lupercalia become Valentine's Day?” you wonder aloud.

“Well,” he starts, prompting a larger grin from you, “in the late 5th century A.D., Pope Gelasius I eliminated it and declared February 14th a day to celebrate the martyrdom of Saint Valentine instead—although it's highly unlikely he intended the day to commemorate love and passion as it is celebrated now. In fact, some modern biblical scholars warn Christians not to celebrate Valentine's Day at all, due to its Pagan roots and rituals.”

You hum, your eyes taking glances at the stretch of his skin over his fingers and the way they move when he speaks.

“Do you celebrate Valentine's Day?” you ask gently, speaking slowly.

His hands fall back down to his lap, and he shakes his head as he straightens his posture a bit. “Well…I don't usually have anyone to celebrate it with, so… No, not really.”

Feeling the shyness slipping into your veins, you set your hands on the table and let your fingers slowly inch toward him, staring at them inside of his eyes. You don't want to see the rejection if it lives there, in his eyes.

You speak slowly, emphasizing every syllable. “Would you like to have someone to celebrate it with?”

He swallows thickly, letting one hand lift onto the table, still close to him but building up courage to maybe meet you in the middle. “Like…” he clears his throat quietly. “Like you?”

You offer a right smile, finally flicking your eyes up to meet his and feeling giddy at the light blush on his cheeks, the nervous wideness of his gaze. “I promise no actual hearts.”

You watch him, and again…his eyes, his Adam's apple, his cheeks, his lips. “Uh…yeah,” he stutters. “Yeah, sure. I'll be your…your Valentine.”

You smile, a wide smile that splits your face in two. Spencer's own grin follows suit. Looking past you, he catches the eyes of Derek, who smirks and offers a cheesy thumbs up, proud of him for securing you as he did.

His gaze falls back to you when you begin to speak, your voice just as song-ish to him as his is to you. You're both equally as infatuated as the other. “You know,” you trail off slowly, “supposedly, Saint Valentine might be so commonly associated with our day of love because there are rumors that he used to perform secret weddings against the wishes of the authorities in the third century.”

He nods slowly, his brows furrowed slightly. “Yes, that's right…” Licking his bottom lip, he speaks again. “You already knew all that stuff about Lupercalia, didn't you?”

You smile, your face squished a bit as you raise your hands and close your thumb and forefinger close together. “Maybe a little,” you whisper. But then you shrug and just keep looking at him. “But I like listening to you talk.”

Spencer suddenly doesn't think you're real, but he isn't about to question it if you aren't. There's someone who enjoys his tangents. He isn't going to jeopardize that.

“Oh,” is all he says.

With your crocheting long forgotten, you lean forward on the table and give him every ounce of attention in your mind. With a fond smile on your lips and a twinkle in your eye, you rest your chin on your folded hands. “You should tell me about…” you pause, thinking, before you smile curls even more, “bees.”

His brows lift as he nods. “Okay, well,” he starts, “did you know the first civilization to practice widespread, organized beekeeping was the Ancient Egyptians, who began beekeeping around 2,500 BCE?”

Your brows lift in fascination. You shake your head, “No, I didn't.”

His smile grows. “Well…”

For the remainder of the flight, Spencer talks and talks and talks, his voice quiet and meant solely for you as he talks about whatever you want: bees and wine and marbles and Halloween. He keeps smiling at you, as you keep smiling at him. Somewhere along the way, he officially asks you on a date, and you both get off the jet together to get a cup of coffee.

You love the way he talks.

Criminal Minds taglist: ... Tag yourself here...

[lady-of-endless]

Risotto Nero romantic headcanons (sfw+nsfw)

Author's Note: Sorry for being an old-school romantic and writing headcanons like these, don't come at me. I wanted to take my time with Risotto as he is so complex. I really hope that those are not too far-fetched. I hope you'll enjoy it! The lovely gif is not mine, I'm thanking the owners for it.

P.S. Prosciutto will be next. I just have to calm down from the feels I have for the husband, I mean Prosciutto.

SFW

- The most beneficial context for your relationship is for it to start off as a partnership, a team. This way, you go through many critical and dramatic experiences together and that will only bring you closer and strengthen your connection. Even after confessing, this dynamic remains, you are still a team, watching for each other.

- Everything about him indicates a slow burn. From obtaining his trust first and then his heart. Even after those two are won, he's still reluctant to the new dynamic. He will never deny those feelings even if he thinks that someone in his position should. Risotto is not just rationally intelligent but also emotionally intelligent so he knows that such desires of the heart cannot be stopped. He doesn't deny the feelings but he suppresses them. He knows how complex those emotions are and that's the problem, it complicates everything around him and you. But little by little, he starts giving in and surrendering to his love.

- At first, he analyzed you only from a strategic point of view (regarding your abilities and how you can work with his team) and in time, it escalated into a deeper and more emotional point of view. Because of this and because Risotto values other opinions and perspectives from his teammates, he seeks advice. No, he won't ask directly but he'll be more attentive when the others talk about you. However, the only one who Risotto might ask for an opinion is Prosciutto because he shares some morals and principles with him. Surprisingly, Prosciutto will put his rational arguments aside a little bit because more than the respect and admiration he holds for Risotto, he wants him to experience this sort of happiness.

- Risotto will not know how to react when receiving your affection, at first. There are many thoughts and morals that don't let him receive affection right. Many of those thoughts are regarding his line of work. He has made peace with the fact that he's not a good man, that he doesn't deserve good things. He's okay with it now, he did what he had to do.

- His preferred love language is acts of service. He's used to doing things for others (but even so he doesn't see how selfless he is) so acts of service are his way to show his feelings. He would do anything for his close ones so for you, his loved one, he would die for you, kill for you, protect you, anything, you name it. Plus, Risotto is always very observant and because his interest is your well-being, he pays extra attention to your needs. About receiving, it can be anything. Again, he doesn't see himself worthy of love.

- He rarely smiles so when you finally catch a glimpse of this rare occasion and compliment him, Risotto is lost. Any sort of comment like this will have him feel things he never felt before, in a good way. As a result, he starts smiling softly more at you in privacy.

- If you get severely injured on a mission, he still keeps his composure in your presence while helping you, patching you up, and even trying to heal you with Metallica. He's serious while doing it but it will be the only time in which his hands start trembling. After helping you, while you rest, he's still there watching over you fully neglecting his need for rest. As you sleep and he looks at your injuries, that's when his composure breaks. The guilt he's feeling is heavy in his heart, thinking how this way of life is not what you deserve and it's his fault.

- He's capable of many things, he's also a strategist but that doesn't mean that he doesn't have moments in which it all gets too much to process. That's where you come to the rescue. He doesn't want to pass his difficulties to you so it will take a lot for him to let himself tell you what's wrong.

- Secrecy and subtility are a must. But he'll get you (he'll make it), a dainty and thin silver bracelet with a charm that resembles some sort of blade. Whenever he's thinking of you and wants to let you know it, you'll feel that bracelet move a bit from his magnetism, as a reminder.

- As subtle as he thought he was, in time, every member of La Squadra will know what his feelings are towards you. Melone was the first to notice the way Risotto looked at you. Since his discovery, Melone couldn't keep it for himself and since then, they all started behaving suspiciously. They smirk every time you talk to Risotto about missions and other formal details, they try to let the two of you alone more, and so on.

NSFW

- Contrary to popular belief, he's not rough (not every time at least) or freaky behind closed doors. His usual and favorite approach is slow and deep. He likes to take his time with it as he sees sex as not just a way to get pleasure but a moment of deepening the connection you have already.

- He never wants to use sex as an outlet for his pent-up frustrations and stress but if you give him the green light, he might give into it when things get too much to bear. But he still holds back a little bit, worried about how rough he can easily get. If you're into this rough approach as well and it's noticeable, he'll feel less guilty but still careful.

- He can go on with the foreplay for hours. Risotto likes to feel the tension build. Enjoying the reactions and the growing desire gives him the most pleasure, more than the act itself. Because of this, he might sometimes slip into trying orgasm denial with you.

- At first, he doesn't see the point of experimenting with kinks because he's so touch-starved. He only needs you. However, gradually he will start asking you for consent about some ideas he has. Watch out for your hands. If you get them close to the metal bars of the bed, your wrists will get caught in metal bindings in the blink of an eye.

- Quiet in the beginning but soon you'll see him losing his composure and start grunting and growling close to your ear as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. Not only that but you'll hear sweet words of affirmation, unheard before as he gets lost in the feeling of you.

- Aftercare is obligatory. It always gets intense, sometimes even rough, and he's aware of his size too so calming you down and taking care of you is both a way of showing his gratitude and also a duty (don't get this one wrong, he sees the act of aftercare as important as the rest of his duties, that's it). The aftercare always ends with him holding your hand and kissing it as another silent expression of his gratefulness and adoration for you. It's his unbreakable habit.

- He has to admit, he likes to mark you. Not in a possessive way, that's why those marks will only be on parts that are not usually visible. But because he loves the image and concept of your skin reacting to his affection. You can leave marks on him as long as they're not visible, again, it's about secrecy and subtility. He might feel a bit proud, just a bit, when he looks in the mirror at the scratches you left on his back.

- Doesn't get bored of being on top. After all of that slow burn and build-up of your deep connection, of course, he wants to look into your eyes when you both let yourselves be engulfed in the pleasure. Might even get a little mischievous with it when he's in a good mood. "If you look away, I'll stop."

The only situations in which you are the one on top are when you simply ask for it or when you tell him you want to help him relax. Hearing those words coming from you while you start touching him with care and warmth is going to be the death of him.

- Not a fan of quickies. He needs the whole thing. As mentioned before, he needs to feel the tension built and loves taking his time with it. But also, above all, he wants to treat you right so a quickie will never be enough for this.

[writerwrabbleswords]

The worst | [Worst] Wolverine/Logan X [Male Iron Man variant] Reader

Logan hates the void, but he hates it a little less after he meets a bearable Tony Stark - except you aren't exactly a Tony Stark he recognizes.

Quick Notes : I haven't actually written for Logan before, but I'm obsessed after Deadpool and Wolverine so... Here we go. I might write a part two, but I'm not sure yet.

Story Details : Deadpool & Wolverine spoilers, Reader is male but referred to with 'You/Your' pronouns, about 800 or so words, light angst, Logan drinking (obviously), cliffhanger ending.

  Logan disliked the void; he disliked it nearly as much as he disliked Wade, which was a lot. Through the entire thing - the fight in the damn honda odyssey, getting the hell away from Cassandra, even getting brought to the resistance hideout - the only thing he wanted to do was down a few bottles of booze and crash for the night. The conversation he’d had with Laura made him feel… odd. It was hard to explain, and Logan wasn’t exactly known for being ‘in touch’ with his feelings. Hell, he preferred to drown them in alcohol over talking about them or even feeling them. 

  The mutant was drawn from his thoughts (and the bottle in his hand) when the door to the resistance opened, your form entering the hideout. He felt his nose scrunch - the stranger smelled like rust and metal, an unpleasant combination. You looked up from something in your hand, glancing at Logan before giving a curt nod and moving towards the nearby table. It was then that he caught sight of a slight blue glow just peeking out from overtop your undone top buttons; an arc reactor. Logan grit his teeth, tearing his eyes away as he downed half the bottle - of course he’d have to deal with a damn Tony Stark variant, it couldn’t have been that Wade was awake, it had to be him.

 A grunt from you pulled his attention back towards you, his gaze soon affixing to what was in your hand - or more accurately, on your arm. It was a repulsor gauntlet, probably part of a full suit if he had to guess, with the paint faded and scratched. With only a glance, he had a feeling you’d been here a long while. 

  “You’re the first Wolverine I’ve seen here,”

  Your voice cut through Logans’ thoughts, and he couldn’t help the bitter scoff that left him - of course you’d know who he was. Shaking his head, he approached your spot at the table, taking a seat across from you as he watched. You were fiddling with your repulsor gauntlet, the screwdriver in your hand digging between the metal plates as you scowled. For a brief moment, he locked eyes with you. Huh. It was then that he fully took in your form - really looked - and noticed that you weren’t quite the Tony Stark he was used to; you didn’t even look like a Tony Stark.

  “You gonna’ tell me how you got here, or are you gonna’ keep staring at me while I work?”

  Logan huffed at your question, bringing the bottle of booze to his lips as he regarded you. He didn’t particularly want to talk - especially to a damn Iron Man - but he relented, the alcohol flowing through his system loosening his tongue.

  “The jackass known as Wade got us both stuck here,” you paused at his words, arching a brow as Logan took a swig, “He pulled me from my universe to try and save his.”

  He could tell something about his words had struck a nerve because the moment he mentioned his own universe, you all but glared down at your gauntlet, your movements with the screwdriver less controlled and precise.

  “Least you’ll get a chance to leave,” came your bitter words.

  It was now the mutants’ turn to raise a brow, his eyes watching you - analyzing you - for any sign of what set you off. He looked away, tipping the bottle of alcohol back as the liquor slid down his throat.

  “You been stuck here a while?” Logan found himself asking, surprising both you and himself.

  Even more surprising, you looked up from your gauntlet and nodded, your expression softening as you tossed the screwdriver onto the table and sighed,

  “Been here longer than most. Had the TVA approach me to join the fuckin’ ‘sacred timeline’ or whatever, and when I turned it down - tried to warn the Avengers - they sent me here. I got every one of my mates killed.” Logan frowned, but didn’t interrupt. Even to him, it was clear you didn’t often talk about your past, “Cassandra’s been tryin’ to get me on her side for ages now, but I refuse. I’m a genius, not a fuckin’ lap dog for some deranged bitch.”

  That got a bark of laughter from the mutant, who shook his head in amusement; you had the signature ‘Tony Stark’ cockiness, arrogance might have been a better word, but you seemed more down to earth than the one he’d known of back in his universe. You seemed to have a shadow following you, something hidden to everyone that kept you locket away; it was something he could relate to.

  “You got a name they call you?” Logan asked, taking another swig from his pilfered bottle of alcohol.

  You hummed, returning your focus to your repulsor gauntlet as you picked up the screwdriver once more,   “I’m the worst Iron Man.”

[biribaa]

I saw you were taking requests for The Amazing Digital Circus, so if you want can you please write Headcannons for Kinger, Caine, and a character of your choice x a reader who’s abstracting in front of them

Also remember to drink lots of water and to take breaks!

-🧪Anon

Kinger, Caine and Ragatha x reader who's abstracting in front of them

I appreciate your kindness but I'm a computer, I think water is one of the things I need to "drink" less and prevent more.

TW/CW: AHH... Spoilers, also angst. Reader does get abstracted in all scenarios cuz we still dont rlly know if someone can be saved from getting abstracted

Kinger

Imagine lost your partners TWICE. Lolololol loser/J

Everything seems to occur in slow motion from Kinger's point of view, a heart he once had is somehow beating against his body. He prays to any god on this earth, be it real or not, or even Caine maybe, that this nightmare isn't happening again to him. Please, everyone, but not you.

Kinger tries to do everything so his lover don't reach the great peak of their insanity, even though he's not very good at it, knowing his personality. But trust me when I said, he tried. Who cares if he will get all glitched for touching your form, he needs you.

He never thought he would live another nightmare inside a nightmare. And in seconds that felt like painful hours to Kinger, here "you" are, a noisy form covered in eyes that flash in different colors. Your skin (if we can call it skin) moves abruptly as if it were a bag full of enraged cats. And, god, how he wished it was him instead.

Things are resolved by the talking human jaw, and yet the silence in Kinger's little pillow fort is no longer comforting as it once was. Silence now makes the small chess piece itch in agony. Silence that could be enjoyed with your presence, with holding your hand or dancing with you, and chat about random stuff he and you knows. The feeling of missing someone is familiar to him, and yet, it hits him in ways that his years in this circus haven't hit him.

Caine

While Kinger tries to do everything, Caine actually does anything to try saving your corrupted mind, and the lack of power in this situation leaves the digital being in panic. A simple snap of the fingers is not enough, and this information makes him tremble in ways he never thought he would tremble before for a simple human.

You aren't just any character, you are his favorite, the lil' buddy he spoils every hour and that always push a giggle from him. You were his very own star. The show could continue the same without you, Caine was sure of it, but could he? Without a character as entertaining as you in action?

"Of course I can fix them, I am Caine!" It's a phrase that was repeated several times in the presenter's programming, But with every grunt coming from the thing that once was you, it's just a reminder to Caine that he did a horrible job trying to take care of you. There were other characters that were abstracted of course, but... You were special to him. His favorite star. His star.

Caine even feels hesitant to put you in the hole of other characters who were abstract before. He preferred to keep you in a cage away from other people's contact, with no one hurting you and no one hurting you.

He knows, he knows the painful truth that you cannot be considered a sapient being, but even though you are a trace of what you once were, Caine doesn't have the courage to lose you forever.

With the other characters, Caine will act normally, with his loud and lively personality. Only if they analyze Caine close enough, the characters would notice something wrong with him.

And then, sometimes, he just stares at you in the cage. Caine ponders if he should admit the lost of his favorite star, it would be easier, but the pride in his chest screams that there must be some way that he could actually save you from...this.

Ragatha

Somehow, the scene is all silent for her. Ragatha stares at you as if the impossible itself is happening in front of her.

Ragatha holds your hands about to disappear, she caressed what was left from your shoulders, she hurriedly whispers words that would normally calm you down, but nothing can save you from the fate of your sanity, just leaving her with the pain of being glitched.

Of course, she had her other friends like Pomni, but lost you?!

Ragatha thinks she saw everything during her new experience in the digital circus, but something common like losing someone so important was the end of the line for her. You were her darling, her sunshine and her little everything even.

Everything she did sounded slightly more boring and boring without your presence, and Ragatha could do nothing about it. She continues (at least tries) to remain strong after that, still trying to complete the little adventures that Caine gives to the participants. But Ragatha's slow pace and lack of smiles was very noticeable.

The weight on Ragatha's chest is too much, losing someone so sweet and perfect for her in such a horrible way is too much. And the worst part is that Ragatha believes that she could have done something to save you, she could have been with you more often so that your mind didn't fall apart like this. But now, she can do nothing but mourn.

[en-gelic]

— ANGEL'S KISSES !

an angel's kisses are a delicate feeling 1111 cw. skinship, injuries, smoking heeseung x (f) reader ʚɞ BOOKSHELF! ⋆ an. MEMORABILIA HAS ME ON MY KNEES

The hallways bustle with energy as you scurried across the school. Your chest heaved up and down as you panted out of breath, cursing your terrible stamina. Slowing down, you made it to the back of the school where you found Heeseung, grey smoke tumbling out of his mouth. He crushed it quickly at the sight of you and pretended to recite the homework you gave him the evening before.

“I saw you so don't even try." You warned, pulling a face at the smoky smell filling your lungs. He grinned his perfect smile at you as though to distract you from his lack of obedience. "Your rank is still the same after I spend four days of my week to tutor you-" You began.

"You're so pretty." He interrupted, leading his dreamy gaze to you. "Are you even listening?" You questioned, irritated with the boys' lack of cooperation.

"Not at all, pretty girl." His overused nickname still made your heart skip a beat as you scolded him to stop using the nickname on you.

"Then which one do you prefer?" Grinning, he leaned down, his breath blowing loose strands of your hair. "Princess? Baby? My love?" Fighting the urge to hold your breath, you stepped back. "Listening while I'm talking is a start."

Hearing footsteps, you silently demand his cigarette box. He handed it to you in confusion, your hand buzzing with the electricity that felt like it was running through his hand when you grazed it.

"What are you doing students?" The teacher asked, trying to peak at the cigarette box you were holding behind your skirt. Muttering a curse word under your breath, you smiled politely. "Nothing, just remembering formulas before math class." Nervously glancing at the teacher, you could see that he didn't look convinced whatsoever. "And what's behind your back?" He pressed on, sensing inaccuracy in your sentence. Being the worst liar, you pulled a face, ready to get caught by the teacher with cigarettes that weren't even yours.

"Condoms." Heeseung blurted as your eyes shot open in horror at his sentence. The teacher looked astounded as a blush tinted his cheeks. He droned on about having inappropriate material at school, but he let you keep the supposed "condoms" and granted a warning and detention for the end of the day. Not to mention, the only detention you were ever given.

When the teacher finally disappeared, you shot the boy a look and shoved the cigarettes back in his hand. "Does that mean there's no tutoring today?" He called, lighting another cigarette. "My house at seven after detention."

Dreading the evening ahead, you delegated duties to the class before heading to your worst nightmare. Surprisingly, you were first as you took your seat, the teachers' face staining pink after seeing you. Trying to hide the embarrassment exploding through you, you quickly finished your homework, turning your gaze to the window, losing yourself in the amber sunset peeking through the trees and turning the light in the room a deep shade of yellow. Movement rustled beside you as you returned from your daze to look at the boy who took his seat, fresh injuries marking his angelic features.

"What happened to you?" You question, analyzing his scars and concluding that he got into a fist fight. By his lack of reply, you stood up, viewing the quantity of the scars and opened your bag, retrieving the first aid kit. He groaned in retaliation as you held his face still while you treated the injuries on the side of his mouth.

"Who brings a first aid kit to school?" He started, wincing from the sting.

"Because I know an idiot who gets himself into fights and leaves his wounds open to infection and gets me into detention."

"Your idiot, princess." He corrected. "As if being an idiot is a good thing." Despite the red staining his features, he still looked attractive as he grinned his signature smile at you. "Being an idiot for you is." You sighed, ignoring his sentence and bringing your hand to the bruise on his cheekbone. "Care to explain who got you into this mess?"

"You." His hand caught your wrist as you hesitated to meet his eyes. Feeling the tension wafting in the room, the teacher silently exited, closing the door behind him. You continued wiping the blood away until he tugged you onto his lap, the cotton shooting out of your hands.

Desire spread through his features as you subconsciously inched closer to his lips, finally connecting them, brushing your nose against his cheek. It would be embarrassing to tell him that it was your first time, so your only result was imitating his actions, resulting in a breathtaking kiss.

A throat cleared behind you as the teacher appeared by the door, standing awkwardly. Flushed, you got up from his lap apologizing repeatedly to the teacher and moving back to your seat. Detention dismissed briskly as you hurried through the vacant halls, avoiding Heeseung as your embarrassment flared up at the thought of him. Finding a mirror, you noticed your swollen lips from his teeth nibbling your bottom one. You couldn't bring yourself to think about how awkward the rest of the evening would be and quickly freshened yourself in the bathroom before he came over.

He found you sitting by your desk, finalizing projects with your headphones on, unaware of your surroundings. He leaned down, the action going unnoticed by you who was still in your own bubble.

"What are you listening to?" He questioned, swiftly removing your headphones and resting them on your neck. Your stomach flipped at the feeling of his lip resting on your ear, feeling as it curved into a smile. Turning to face him, the weight of his stare made the words you practiced earlier disappear into thin air.

"What's with that look, doll?" He pressed, leaning his hands on the arms of your chair. His eyes moved to your lips, sliding a finger across your bottom lip which was still swollen. Leaning into you, your breaths mingled as your eyes fluttered shut, waiting for his lips to press on yours. He let out a brief chuckle before your lips connected, moving in sync as the air in your lungs languidly vanished.

"Does this mean no tutoring today?" He repeated the question he asked earlier, circling a part of your neck with his index finger. You answered by delicately kissing the area around where his bruises were, ending it off with a light kiss on his lips. Reconnecting his lips with yours, you made a mental note to give him extra homework for the damage he achieved today.

✸ perm taglist (open) : @cholexc @07sleepykatz @bunnbam (ask or comment to be added !)

✸ taglist (open) : @zhounauts @riksaes @dimplewonie @itjengirl © en-gelic 2024.

[ahsxual]

Dark Sins

Pairing: William Afton x Fem!Reader (and a little of Stu Macher x Fem!Reader)

Summary: You and Stu have been together for a while now. You didn't like his friend Billy, because in your opinion he meant trouble. But Stu didn't care about it. In fact, it only made him want to hide you from Billy. So when the two of you were at Stu's house and Billy showed up, Stu made you hide yourself in the bathroom... little did you both know that his dad was taking a shower.

Genre: Smut

Warnings: minors don't interact +18, cheating (I don't support this, only wrote it for the fic!!), Stu not being the best boyfriend, implied age gap (reader is on her 20s, William is 50), fingering, oral sex (f&m receiving), squirting, dirty talk, mentions of daddy, chocking, cursing, degrading and humiliation kink, cnc, almost getting caught, perv!William, Dom!William x Sub!Reader

Word Count: 2,8k

Part II & Part III

A/N: In this fic, William is Stu Macher's father. I just love this idea, so I decided to write this crossover. I haven't written for so long, so I'm sorry for any mistakes or the low quality fic. I missed writing for you guys, so here I am! I'm trying my best <33

You and Stu Macher had been together for a few weeks now. He was your crush since you met him last year, and things developed over time, specially after one of his parties. You guys had sex in his bedroom at one of his parties, and let's just say it was the best fuck you guys ever had. The adrenaline running through your veins from the alcohol, the passion between you two and the risk of getting caught by one of your friends was too much. You were extremely happy when, after a couple of months, he wanted to make it official. It was like a dream coming true... I mean, who wouldn't want to be Stu Macher's girlfriend? But like in all relationships, nothing is completely perfect... and when you met his best friend Billy, you couldn't help but hate the guy. He had this creepy look whenever he looked at you both and you talked about it with Stu. Apparently the guy hated you too, so Stu decided to hide you from him. Like, literally.

It pissed you off even more. How can your boyfriend prefer his best friend over you?? The PDA between the two of you didn't exist anymore whenever Billy was around, and that hurted you. So today, you decided to go talk about this with Stu.

"Hey... can we talk?" you asked Stu when he opened his house's door for you. He already knew what you wanted to talk about, so he rolled his eyes and let you enter his house.

"Sure babe, come in." he said in fake excitement, which annoyed you to no end. How can he still think it's your fault and there's nothing wrong with what he's doing... or better, allowing others to do. It's like he cares way too much about what Billy thinks or not. What a weird relationship they have...

You both went to his room for some privacy, since his dad was at home. Talking about the man, there was something strange, maybe even creepy about him too. He barely talks to you or says anything at all, always busy with work on the few times he's at home. However, his intense eyes always seemed to analyze your body like a predator analyzes its prey. At least, that's how you felt. And it sent shivers down your spine every single time, for whatever reason unknown to you.

"So... I assume you already know what I want to talk about with you..." you were the first one to break the ice, since you and Stu have had been silent for a few minutes now. You shouldn't be feeling so nervous and you didn't want to bother Stu, but things had to be talked about when something bothers you. Communication is the key for a good relationship and that's what you decided to do.

"Yeah, I think I do." Stu seemed way too relaxed for your liking, his arms supporting his body onto his bed like he didn't care how this conversation would end.

"Can you just pretend that you care about how I'm feeling instead of like, running away? Because that's what it looks like you're doing and it annoys me, Stu. Deeply." you shouted at Stu, your patience disappearing by each second. But when he looked at you with those hungry eyes, you immediately knew what he wanted to do. Again. Every single time.

"Come on babe, we can do so many interesting things instead of arguing, don't you think? You look so fucking hot when you're mad at me." a large smirk was planted on his face, before he pushed you down onto his bed, his tall and lean body over yours while he grabbed both of your wrists with one hand and pinned them on the bed. He started sucking and kissing your neck, while his free hand grabbed your tits hard, making you moan.

"Stop it Stu, we have to talk about..." you tried to sound serious, but the truth was that you forgot what you wanted to talk about in the first place. You couldn't resist Stu: he had that power over you, and even tho you hated it sometimes, it was simultaneously the thing you loved about him the most. The way he made you weak to your knees by a simple touch. You felt like you were in heaven for a few minutes, before Stu's phone started ringing. You both looked at it annoyed, and when you thought you couldn't be more bothered, you saw Billy's name on it. Stu immediately got up, before sending you an apologetic look.

"Hey man, what's up?" Stu's face went from excitement to fear in a second, and you looked at him asking mentally what happened. "Yeah sure, just give me a sec." and then Stu hung up the call.

"What happened? What did he want?" your tone was a little bit harsh towards Stu, but you couldn't control it. What did Billy possibly want this time??

"I'm sorry baby, but... Billy is actually on my doorstep. He's outside and needs to talk to me... like right now." you could tell your boyfriend was feeling bad for interrupting your intimate moment, but he still didn't say no to Billy.

"You're kidding me, right? Does he know that I'm with you? Can't you tell him that??"

"Come on y/n, just cooperate with me! It will be fast I promise, just..." he paused for a second, before grabbing your arm and taking you to the bathroom. "Just stay here for a minute, okay? Don't come out until I tell you so! Love ya!" he then kissed you and put you inside of his bathroom way too quickly to realized that it might be occupied...

"Wtf!" you shouted quietly, visibly pissed off by the ridiculous situation you were put in. How could Stu do this to me?? Hiding his own girlfriend, because his friend didn't like me? You thought. When you were walking backwards, you didn't even realized that the bathroom was in fact, occupied. By your boyfriend's father.

"Shit!!" you screamed when you collided with a strong, bare and wet chest. When you turned around, you couldn't believe your eyes. It was your boyfriend's father, William Afton, completely naked with just a towel around his hips. You stared a little too long to his tall, nice built body for his age, before you closed your curious eyes. "Omg, I'm so so sorry Mr. Afton, I didn't- this is all that asshole's fault!" you whispered to yourself the last part, referring to Billy. Well, in reality it was Stu's fault, but you didn't want to think about it that way.

"May I know why you haven't left yet? Seems like you're enjoying being here... in my presence." William's tone was serious and his eyes roamed all over your body, since you were wearing a short dress. If you weren't feeling so embarrassed, you could tell that he was in fact teasing you.

"I-I can't Mr. Afton... Stu doesn't want me to get out of here... I don't know what to do... well, on second thought, I should probably go." you never felt so embarrassed in our entire life. You didn't know if you should leave and go against your boyfriend's stupid request, or if you should just stay there being confronted by Mr. Afton lustful eyes and semi-naked body. This was his opportunity, he thought. Just the two of you... alone.

He wanted to show you how much his son didn't deserve you. He wanted to show you who could be a real man to you. Someone who didn't refuse to pleasure you like his son did to you just now, even though you could be caught. What you didn't know, was how long William have been desiring you. Waiting for the perfect opportunity to be with you and make you forget about his son only with his dick. To prove to you that you didn't know real pleasure until he fucked you until you're begging for his mercy.

"Who said you're getting out of here, huh?" how dumb and innocent you are, he thought. Thinking that now that everything was according to his plan, you could escape him. It made him laugh, actually.

"I-I don't understand, sir..." your back was against the bathroom door, not allowing you to escape his slow approach towards your small body compared to his. The moment you called him sir made his cock harder, and when you noticed it through the thin towel, you gasped loudly not just by the unknown effect you had on him, but at the size of it. It was huge and you could tell that it was thicker than Stu's dick.

He noticed you staring at his cock and smirked at your reaction. He knew deep down you wanted him too. You naughty, dumb slutty girl. He suddenly approached you faster, not even caring about the fact that his towel fell on the ground, leaving him completely naked in front of you and showing you his dick fully erected because of you. Before you tried to say something, he covered your mouth with his big hand.

"Shhh. Don't say a single fucking word, you understand me? You don't want my son to find out that you're about to get fucked by his father, now would you?" his voice was deep and low, and you could hear the lust in it. You felt scared. Terrified actually, for what was about to happen. But then, you felt something that betrayed your mind. Your panties were dripping and your clit was throbbing, wanting desperately to be touched. All of a sudden, you heard the door being locked by William.

"Please Mr. Afton, I-I don't want to cheat on Stu, please..." you were so desperate not to sin, since you're completely against cheating. But it seemed like you had no choice... and the worst of it, was that you couldn't deny how much attracted you felt to the older man. By this point, you didn't know if you were talking to William or to yourself. Suddenly, you felt William's cock against you, hard and desperate for your attention.

"Too late for that, bunny. I'm gonna teach you how a real man can pleasure a sweet thing like you... don't lie to yourself. You want this as much as I do." he suddenly grabbed your hand and put it on his hard cock, pre-cum leaking from the tip. You started to jerk him off, not being able to stop since he was controlling your movements. "That's it, you dirty slut. Now be a good girl and suck daddy's cock." William forcedly grabbed your hair and pushed you to your knees, making you gasp in pain. He then opened your mouth and shoved his dick in, making you gag around him.

You started to suck him off since you had no option but to obey, before he pushed you back by your hair and took your dress and bra off, leaving you only in your panties.

"Don't worry, I'll rip them out soon." the older man promised before he pushed you against his cock again. After a few minutes, he felt himself almost reaching his limit, so he pushed you back once again, this time for good. He then grabbed you and put you onto the long bathroom vanity, before tearing your white panties in one move.

"Mr. Afton! Those were my favorite panties!" you were shocked by his rough action, realizing that when he said something, he would do it. William laughed at your face, realizing that you and Stu apparently never had real fun.

"If you behave and cum for me, maybe I'll give you new ones for Christmas." he promised before circling your extremely sensitive clit. You moaned loudly, so he quickly covered your mouth once again. "What a dirty fucking whore you are. Can't keep your mouth shut while being fingered by a man old enough to be your father... leaving aside the fact that it's actually your boyfriend's father too." he degraded you, before shoving 2 long and thick fingers inside you, not giving you any time to adjust to him. His movements were cruel and faster than any man you had ever been with before, making you cum in a few minutes.

"Fuck Mr. Afton, I'm gonna cum!! Please s-stop!" you didn't know why you were pleading him to stop if you didn't want to. Maybe you thought that if you didn't cum, maybe it wasn't real cheating... How stupid you were to think that. Obviously there was no going back now.

"You're fucking dripping, bunny. Look at my fingers, fucking you so easily and being all drenched in your cum. You should be ashamed of yourself, you fucking slut. I bet my son never made you cum so fast and hard." and those degrading words, which were the truth even tho you didn't want to admit it, were enough to make you orgasm. Hard. The way Mr. Afton humiliated and deprived you to breath properly with his hand covering your mouth and nose, was all you needed to squirt onto his big hand. Your moan was muffled by William's hand, otherwised Stu and Billy would hear you without any doubt.

"Oh fuck..." you said once you looked at the mess you made. William's fingers and cock were drenched in your cum, and he hadn't even fucked you with his cock yet. "I'm so sorry Mr. Afton-" your apology was completely ignored and immediately replaced by a loud gasp from you when William opened your legs and licked your cunt like he was a starved man. His tongue expertly sucked your wet clit before he fucked your hole with his long tongue. He continued to suck on your clit and fuck your hole just the way you loved, when suddenly you heard Stu's voice. You wanted to scream from fear of being caught in such a vulnerable, embarassing position and act, but William knew you too well already, so he put his hand over your mouth before you could make any sound and continued his attack on your dripping pussy.

"Wait man!" you heard Stu saying to Billy. Apparently, Billy wanted to go to the bathroom, but Stu stopped him just in time. "You should go to the bathroom downstairs. I took a shit on that one before you arrived." if you weren't in this situation, where your boyfriend's dad was eating you out like a madman, you would have laughed at the poor excuse that your boyfriend came up with. However, you were too focused on cumming again, this time on William's mouth since he didn't stop fucking your cunt with his tongue the whole time. Oh, that mouth... you definitely wouldn't forget it. It even looked like somehow, William did want to get caught to prove his son that he could make you cum harder and faster. That even if he was older, he was better nonetheless.

You started to feel your second orgasm approaching. "Fuck Mr. Afton, I'm gonna fucking cum again." you didn't know why would you tell him that or why you were saying it out loud, if you felt ashamed about all of this.

"Come on, babygirl. Cum for daddy one more time, squirt all over my face." and that was it. Somehow you managed to squirt once again, this time on William's face. Even tho it wasn't as much as before, you still covered his face and mouth with your cum. "Good girl. I know you could do it. You're being so nice for me, just one more time." when he said that last part, you looked at him with wide eyes.

"I-I can't anymore sir, please..." you were breathless and covered in sweat from his actions. He suddenly grabbed your neck and chocked you enough to make it difficult to breath.

"Yes you can, and you'll do it for me." for the first time, you were scared of him. Scared about what he could possibly do to you and the fact that you could be caught anytime now. He lined his big cock against your overstimulated pussy, ready to fuck and destroy you, before you both heard Stu's voice again.

"Alright man, see ya later! Don't forget to bring my things tomorrow!" Stu said before closing the front door downstairs, saying goodbye to Billy. You looked desperately at William, and even if he wanted to destroy you right there and then and couldn't care less if Stu caught you both fucking, he didn't want you to be in big trouble. You and William started to hear Stu's footsteps, so William took your damaged panties with him, grabbed his towel from the ground to cover himself up and got ready to go to his bedroom before Stu came in and saw you two together.

"Get yourself presentable. You don't wanna look like you just had been fucked, right? Next time bunny, I'll make sure there's no one to interrupt us. Prepare that tight and sweet pussy of yours." he said in a serious and cold tone, like he didn't just say the most sinful thing to you. Before he left, he smelled deeply your ripped and drenched panties and stuffed them inside his mouth.

And there you were. Left alone naked, covered in sweat and cum and thinking about how William's cock would feel deep inside of you, ripping you apart.

And that's when reality hit you and slapped you hard in the face. You just cheated on your boyfriend with his own fucking father.

[s-awturn]

On The Highest Place On The Podium || LH44

summary: Fortunately, the Paris Olympics coincided with Formula One's summer break, and Lewis had no plans other than to watch his girlfriend shine at the games.

request: @evasmlp

cw: nothing but cuteness and unconditional support from Lewis in the stands

a/n: I loved this request because I can use the joke of Lewis being a wag during the games, so I'll try to make it cute and funny, I might fail, but let's see what happens. My knowledge of rhythmic gymnastics is equally scarce, so don't take it seriously, it's all nonsense. This will be short, unfortunately it's what I can do right now (I have a fucking headache

"Excuse me, excuse me," he asked as he walked to his seat, mumbling apologies. Luckily the competition hadn't started yet, so he hadn't asked for anything. The gym was packed and flags of several countries were seen there, he looked around, searching for her among the competitors and as if he was attracted by a magnet, Lewis found her at the opposite end. Y/N was wearing the Spanish team's tracksuit pants and royal blue leotard that made her stand out among the other gymnasts; Lewis could see that his fiancée was anxious, she rubbed her hands on her arms and He looked around, he knew she was analyzing her opponents, even from afar the pilot could see the gears in her head turning.

Lewis wanted to be there for her and support her, tell her she would do fine, but he knew Y/N and in moments of tension, she preferred to focus alone or with the team, and being an athlete, Lewis understood her need, so ok, he would stay in the stands, cheering for her.

S/N took a deep breath, she would open the finale session with the ribbon, it was her first Olympics, and she felt that the entire weight of her country was on her shoulders; she repeated her mantra, trying to stay centered and calm, and didn't look at the stands, didn't want to know if there were Spanish flags among the fans, she didn't want to look for Lewis either. It was stupid, but she was afraid of disappointing her people and her fiancé, so she kept her eyes on the ground, looking at her blue nails also escaping from the slipper.

"Are you ready, Y/N?"

"Fuck no, but this is the best way" she replied and took off her tracksuit pants, she had chosen Hips Don't Lie as the theme for her solo, the trainer handed her the equipment and she walked to the edge of the mat, Y/N arranged the ribbon around her feet, waiting for the music to start.

As the sound echoed through the gym, Y/N spun on one foot, making the ribbon tremble around her, everyone seemed enchanted by her performance, as if Y/N and her ribbon were one. She ran across the mat and jumped, doing a split in the air as the ribbon fluttered above her head and Y/N finished the performance with a pike.

Lewis was the first to stand up, clapping loudly as he watched his girlfriend thank him and leave the mat, he didn't understand anything about gymnastics, but from what I knew, S/N had a good performance and would have high grades, the chance to go from seventh place to second and securing the silver medal for Spain were great Lewis was rooting for her to make it.

S/N swallowed more than half of the contents of the isotonic bottle, she kept her eyes on the screen while waiting for the note, her heart was a war drum, beating non-stop. 14,987 points, the highest score that she had already received in her career as a gymnast, with that she was on the podium, not the second one as she was thinking, but the first one. If everything went well, she would be Olympic champion! S/N was surrounded by the team, congratulating her and celebrating her grade.

She picked up her phone and checked her messages, smiling at the words of support and cheering from family and friends and of course, a beautiful photo taken by Lewis, at the exact moment she jumped.

You were amazing, doll, I'm proud of you.

She sobbed, holding back tears. Lewis had been so supportive of her last year as she qualified for the Olympics, he had accompanied her to the championships, and even though Y/N denied it, and Lewis was her master sponsor, and he didn't regret a single penny spent on his bride's brilliant career.

Thank you love, I wouldn't be here without you.

She looked for him in the stands, in the middle of the presentation, Lewis took a seat near the team, he needed to be with her after the solo.

Where are you?

Behind you, sweetness

She smiled widely as she jumped onto the bench to hug her fiancé. Lewis kissed her entire face, finishing with a sweet kiss on the lips.

"Of course you'd be here without me, you're amazing, love," he murmured, cupping her face in his hands. "and you're going to win the gold, showing everyone that you're the best."

"Lewis," she scolded, but she kept smiling.

A few minutes later, Y/N returned to the mat, this time with the hoop, this time she chose Julio Iglesias as the backdrop and again. Lewis watched in fascination as the bride gliding gracefully across the mat, she handled the hoop masterfully, humming the song as she performed. Lewis was so proud of her, so happy that she was achieving her goals, slowly but steadily.

Lewis was proud to be engaged to her, he loved talking about her and knew his next helmet would have the same pattern as her leotard, Lewis would honor his future wife in the best way possible.

Y/N couldn't hold back her tears as she heard the Spanish anthem play, she was in her highest place, with the Spanish flag around her body. She had done it, the highest place on the podium was hers, cleanly and honestly. The photo of her on the podium was of S/N kissing the medal, red from crying as she looked at the fruit of her effort.

She looked at Lewis, her heart swelling with pride in her fiancé's eyes. She had secured the two highest places she had ever wanted: the top of the podium and a place in Lewis's heart.

y/nrhythmic, georgerussell63, valtteribottas, carmenmundt and 6,869,650 other people liked it

lewishamilton I don't have enough words to say how proud I am of you. I always knew you were capable of reaching the top of the world, my love, and thank you for letting me be by your side through it ♡

y/nrhythmic I'm a very lucky girl to have you baby 😭🫶🏼 → liked by lewishamilton

[tiredandoptimistic]

"Early 21st Century Romanticism" truly is one of the Community episodes ever for a variety of reasons, but I'm a Saw enjoyer so I'm gonna talk about the scene where Troy defends Abed to Mariah, and specifically defends his love of the Saw franchise. It's not just representative of Troy and Abed's relationship, but also of horror and neurodiversity and how those subjects are so easily ignored and discredited.

For those of you who haven't watched the episode recently, it's about Troy and Abed both crushing on the same woman (Mariah, the librarian) and deciding that the only fair way to resolve this is for her to take both of them to the Valentine's Day dance, and decide afterwards which one she wants to date further. Mariah is down for this plan, and ends up preferring Troy and sending Abed away. Abed is chill with this, but Troy clearly isn't; spending his dance with Mariah grilling her on why she would possibly see Abed as anything less than the perfect date. She has a couple reasons, one of which being that he spent two hours analyzing the Saw movie franchise. She eventually calls Abed "weird," causing Troy to storm off and reunite with his boyfriend best friend outside in peace, but I'm gonna focus on that bit about Saw because that's who I am as a person.

Before I go any further, it's important to remember that Saw is a largely hated franchise. Well, "hate" might be a strong word, but it's definitely looked down upon as worthless torture porn for the depraved. Troy is not a horror guy. I'm not a horror guy either, which is why I haven't actually watched the later Saw films and am content to enjoy them purely through my friends who are more down for gore and batshit plot twists ( @cape-wearing-enigma this is about you and your Saw slideshow presentation). My point is, Mariah's clear distaste for Saw and her opinion that it's "weird" to put two hours worth of thought into it is pretty damn standard, and just based on Troy's personal tastes I wouldn't be surprised if he agreed.

But the thing is, he doesn't.

He continues defending Abed's taste in films and his interest in talking about them, because to Troy it's not about enjoying Saw it's about enjoying listening to Abed get passionate about anything he cares about. His line about how "the first one did redefine the genre" in particular sounds so polished and is delivered with such ease that I'm confident it's something Troy is repeating that he heard Abed say, that he's got complete faith in it being true because it's what Abed thinks.

That, more than anything, is what sells the episode to me. I really relate to Abed in that I'm someone who can and will talk for hours about my interests, and those interests are often things which aren't generally considered to be "good" (oh the joy of trying to explain that I'm not into something for a bit or because it's "so bad it's good," I just genuinely love it and think it's great), and it's one thing to be able to hold a conversation with someone who shares those interests but it's a lot harder to find somebody who just likes hearing why you care about them.

Now, I'm aware that Saw is a popular mainstream franchise, but that's not the point here. Mariah isn't weirded out by Abed liking Saw, it's by him talking about it for so long. It's okay for you to watch when a new one comes out or do a marathon for Halloween, but once you start actually caring and putting thought into a "dumb" franchise then you're the weird one.

Horror is one of those genres (alongside romance and comedy) that are just seen as inherently low-brow and simple by a lot of people, like they have no value besides being easy watches and are easy to pull off in a compelling way. Which is wild! Even if you don't actually have deeper thoughts about a movie, if it genuinely scared you then that means the creators did something right and that takes effort! Good horror deserves to get credit, but instead it's just all lumped together into one mass that it's apparently okay to talk shit about.

I won't make statements about the entire Saw franchise, but as someone who loves the first one, I firmly believe that Saw (2004) is genuinely a really fucking good movie. If Abed had ignored the rest of the films and just talked about the first one for two hours, he'd still have plenty of material.

I'm not sure that I have a conclusion here, I just think it's awesome to see one of my favorite characters getting so into something I also enjoy, and one of my favorite parts of Troy and Abed's relationship is that even when they don't completely agree they still support and respect each other. This is yet another example of when it would have been so easy to make Abed the butt of the joke, but instead Troy (and the show) decides that actually Mariah is the weird one if she can't appreciate him.

[le-trash-prince]

BenzGarfield's height difference is something I particularly enjoy about their roles as partners because it's a big enough difference for Benz to be noticeably shorter (on top of being smaller than Garfield in general) but small enough for that difference to be played around with onscreen, and I'm so fascinated by what This Love Doesn't Have Long Beans has done in regards to their blocking and their costumes as MethasJJ.

Because Perth Nakhun has said that the Thai film industry traditionally prefers to cast taller actors to play the top in a pairing, regardless of other details, and will do the same for male/female actor pairs as well, to the point where he lost out on a role bc of being shorter than the actress, and for My Engineer they had him wear really thick shoe lifts bc he was shorter than Lay.

So I wondered if they were going to try and pass Benz off as being taller than Garfield, bc Methas certainly looks taller than JJ in episode one. Based off BTS pics, I knew that they had Benz in thick heels, but their feet are purposefully covered in this shot in a way that disguises this for the audience and just makes Methas look naturally taller.

But then in episode three we DO get a purposeful shot of his shoes. Frankly I love that they put him in platforms instead of using just shoelifts in regular mens dress shoes, bc it turns his boosted height into a character detail rather than a ~movie magic~ thing (i.e. putting RDJ on a stool for closeups in Iron Man).

Methas has specifically dressed himself in a way that makes him appear taller than he is. It speaks loads to his insecurity and the way he feels he has to make himself appear to the world.

I think part of this must have been a practical decision bc it gives the team more flexibility with wide shots like this, where Methas is completely barefoot during his physical therapy scenes. When neither of them are wearing shoes, he's obviously shorter than JJ, and they don't have to bother with cutting away from this shot in order to disguise that he's standing on something. I'm a big fan of this, since I think it just makes things more believable.

Then there are scenes where their heights are equal to each other.

And scenes where JJ is taller even when Methas is wearing his platforms.

If Methas wasn't shorter than JJ, it would be less visually impactful when JJ lowers himself to take care of him.

It would be less impactful when Methas towers over him because Methas would be towering over him the whole show anyways.

Blocking like this would have less meaning too.

There's also the way their relative positions shift even when they're horizontal.

This is just something I really enjoy seeing, and I'd love to sit down and analyze this after the show is done. Personally I'm a short tops supporter and I don't care for the traditional notion that taller ppl should always top and women can't date men shorter than them, etc.

Frankly, it has been disheartening to see the reaction (mostly on twitter) that a lot of ppl had to the idea of Benz playing a top, since I don't think actors should have their roles limited by their physique. It reminds me a lot of the response to Pavel playing a bottom, so I'm just glad to see that Change2561 is continuing to cast non-traditional dynamics regardless of whether the audience thinks someone like Garfield can be a bottom.

Also means we get to see delightful role reversals like this:

Where one party is fully clothed, while the other is in only a towel, but the context and tone of the scenes are very different. Subvert those audience expectations!

Anyways, this is just something I've been paying attention to, since their positions on camera are constantly switching and it is so fascinating to watch.

[taska-rokanh]

Befriending Spock Headcanons

My first Star Trek content! Spock is my favorite character by far and I feel like he needs some love. A lot of my Star Trek content will be romantic, but I feel like especially with Spock, it's necessary to explore the first steps of just becoming friends, because it's harder to break down his walls and he's not one to just act on attraction at first sight.

Warnings: none

Word count: 1.1 k

- People have very different, often very polarizing opinions on Commander Spock. You'd heard more than enough stories about how cold, calculating, unforgiving, and inhuman he was. 

- But when you met him, all you could think was that he was so cool.

- He was incredibly intelligent, capable of making smart and informed decisions regarding basically any situation that affected the ship in minutes, and always acted with absolute certainty. Despite that, he did not want a command of his own and readily accepted his own mistakes, readjusting accordingly. What was there not to admire?

- You tried your best to be friendly, but you knew it was a long shot. Not only was he a Vulcan, he was your commanding officer. You weren't sure how he regarded any sort of personal relationship, really.

- Still, you found yourself engaging him in light conversation in the halls, the mess hall, or the lift. You broke it off quickly if it didn't seem like he wanted to talk, which surprisingly was very infrequent. If you got him talking about science, or the history and philosophy of Vulcan, it was quite easy to get him to talk.

- Spock is... I'm not sure how he would describe it, but I suppose, pleasantly surprised to find someone that not only tolerates his discussion of such topics, but actively pursues them.

- Whether you know it or not, you've chosen the most effective method of breaking the ice.

- Spock encourages this by consulting you on data that is outside of the normal scope of your duties as often as possible. He enjoys being challenged, and surmises that you must, as well. You have a natural curiosity and a scientific mind, one that with proper training could even attain his level of authority in time. These discussions don't feel like replacement training sessions so much as informal academic chatter, though.

- Spock starts to show that he considers you a friend through verbal encouragement first. It's often very dry and hard to detect, but it's there.

- He once corrected you regarding a postulation you'd made when analyzing some data that was adjacent to your field. You said, "Oh, right, that makes more sense. Sorry, I'm a little stupid sometimes," out of habit, something that you knew you should probably grow out of.

- He looked at you, perplexed. "Ensign, you should not insult yourself for being unaware of a highly specialized piece of information that allowed me to see the facts in this particular light. Every scientist, no matter how intelligent, has their blind spots."

- You smiled at his encouragement before raising your eyebrow in doubt. "Even you?"

- Spock hesitated for a moment before considering his ineptitude in handling his friendship with his captain and now, it appeared, you as well. "Of course."

- You didn't believe him, but thought it was sweet of him to say so. "Thanks, Commander."

- "You may call me Mr. Spock, or Spock, if you prefer."

- "Sure thing, Mr. Spock."

- The Mr. gets dropped shortly after.

- Every smile you manage to get out of him is an absolute treasure, as it is very rare. Something tells me that the first smile he gives you would be in a situation in which you are distressed and he is trying to reassure you, perhaps he sustained a nasty injury and you are very concerned. The smile is fleeting and feels a little unnatural, but the effort he put into it was enough to convince you that he would recover. little did you know there was little effort expended--seeing your care for him, it was almost irresistible.

- Every smile you give him is treasured by him, though they are so much more frequent. It is true that humans smile with so little provocation, but it's still nice to know sometimes that he's the reason and not the butt of some joke (looking at you, Kirk and Bones)

- There are two facts about Vulcans that are very relevant to this situation: 1) Vulcans are touch telepaths, meaning that touch is very, incredibly personal and reserved for special situations (except for Sarek and Amanda cuz they're whores), and 2) Vulcans are, in fact, very emotional people.

- Keeping these facts in mind, there must be some way for Spock to express his feelings of appreciation and camaraderie for you, and it cannot be in the average human manner (handshakes, pats on the back, high fives)

- So instead, he takes a more vested interest in your wellbeing, asking if you've eaten, drank water, slept, etc. especially when you've come back from an away mission and are busy analyzing new data.

- You often seem to find each other following each of the Enterprise's adventures. These are often time-sensitive and life-threatening, and as a low-ranking science officer, often your only orders are to stay put and protect yourself. 

- The first time or two after you've become friends, you try to hide how shaken you are--you know you're fine, really. You just can't help that your reaction to coming down off the adrenaline high is to literally shake and sometimes cry a bit.

- However, Spock sees through what you're trying to do and reassures you that you are safe. "I know."

- "I intended to convey that you are safe to express any emotions you may currently be experiencing."

- Oh.

- You usually end up sitting with Spock somewhere, your quarters, your lab, the mess hall, the holodeck, shaking and crying before recovering after a bit. The emotional expression always makes Spock a bit uncomfortable--not because he's disgusted by it, but because he doesn't have/doesn't feel comfortable expressing the skills or the emotional intelligence needed to interact with them. 

- His simply being there is enough. You recover in 15 minutes or so and can carry on as before.

- "Have you considered consulting Dr. McCoy regarding the management of your anxiety surrounding these events? They seem to cause you a high degree of stress."

- You shrugged. "It's just my body's response, it doesn't bother me," you reassured him. "Besides, I've got you."

- The feeling of being needed in a way not associated with his intelligence or his duty was unexpectedly welcome.

- In time, he comes to take a more active role, bringing you food and water while you're working or offering to make a bit of progress on your work while you take a short rest--Vulcans don't require as much sleep as humans, after all.

- After a while of this, you mention to him that you feel that you could be a more proactive friend, when he takes so much time and effort to look out for you, and ask him what you could do.

- He looks at you, perplexed. "Your presence in my life is quite sufficient," he assures you. "Your companionship proves to be a gratifying part of my daily routine in any measure."

- He has no idea how sweet he can be.

[luxsky]

Acotar characters; "you're staring" "you're beautiful"

Summary: ACOTAR characters + Twitter trend "you're staring" "you're beautiful"

Warnings: Moderately inaccurate political economy information, I think that's it (let me know if I missed anything)

Author's Note: Okay, I had a lot of fun writing this, hope you enjoy!

Rhysand

Ruling a court comes with various responsibilities, including dealing with accounting. Deciding how much money goes into each aspect, where there will be investments or cuts, handling the demand for buying and selling prices, export profits, and import expenses – these are the matters a High Lord has to deal with.

And Rhysand hates it; he dislikes mathematics, numbers, and especially thinking about all the headaches that economics brings him. That's why, when we got married and he made me his High Lady to reign by his side, I volunteered to handle that part – the part he disliked but I enjoyed.

So, while Rhysand deals with the political aspects that don't interest me, I handle the ones that don't interest him. We often work together, despite having separate offices. We also have a shared one because, even though we sometimes prefer working alone, most of the time, we choose to work together, not only to spend time together but also to enjoy each other's company and deal with any situation requiring the other's opinion.

"I think we should invest more in the export of artistic materials," I say to him, standing on the plush rug in the office, papers scattered on the floor from where I was previously sitting. I've analyzed these two specific papers in my hands for several minutes, pacing back and forth until reaching this conclusion.

"Well, we could do that, but the demand would increase, and we'd have to invest in structures for mass production of materials," he murmurs in response, not lifting his head from his stack of papers, filled mostly with reports from spies and armies.

"Urgh, okay, let me look into that," I crouch down, sitting on my heels as I shuffle through the scattered papers on the floor, searching for specific ones.

I make a satisfied noise when I find what I need, also grabbing a pen and starting to scribble some calculations and values on a blank sheet. Information here, consequences there, trying to find the best way to expand the Night Court's export market.

Rhys's pen stops, and I glimpse a movement from the corner of my eye, but I'm too focused on what I'm writing. I search for another paper, Mother, I should start organizing myself better. I lean to reach it, using the values there to compare with the ones I noted down, another paper comes to my hand, and my head is filled with numbers, values, and variations.

At some point, my concentration begins to wane because I feel eyes piercing my side. Perhaps my partner is trying to hint that my murmurs are bothering him, or maybe he wants to say something and is waiting for the right moment.

I put the papers back on the floor and look at him. Contrary to what I imagined, he's leaning back in his chair, a smirk on his lips, and his arms crossed over his chest. He doesn't look away or say anything, so I make a face and go back to shuffling my papers, still feeling the burn of his gaze on me.

"Rhysand, love, you're staring," I murmur, starting to stack the papers I had spread all over the floor, attempting a fake organization. I hear the sound of his chair scraping on the floor, and I look up to see him in front of me, crouching to be at the same height as me.

The smile on his face grew. "You're beautiful, dear, especially when dealing with all this math," he murmurs, and his hands cup my cheeks, his thumb caressing my face.

"Well, someone has to do the hard work, don't they?" I reply playfully, mirroring his smile. Rhysand leans in, kissing my lips, then my nose, forehead, and finally my cheeks. He continues planting various kisses all over my face, and I'm laughing by the end when he pulls away, looking at me with a loving gaze.

My laughter slowly fades, but the smile remains on my face. "You're my clever and beautiful little thing, dear," he murmurs, planting a final, very slow kiss on my forehead.

Cassian

Waking up early is one of the things highlighted on my list of things I hate and prefer not to do. My routine has always been organized with the goal of waking up as late as possible without disrupting my responsibilities.

And this routine worked perfectly until Cassian and I started living together, and he decided that my routine was somewhat unhealthy, insisting that I should start the day with him. The problem is, my beloved partner has a bizarre predisposition to wake up very easily before the sun even thinks about rising. And he doesn't rest until he wakes me up too.

"Come on, babe, we still need to have breakfast before we start training," his voice muffled as my face is buried under two pillows and protected by a thick blanket. "If you don't get up soon, we'll be late."

"Cassian, how could we be late if the sun hasn't even woken up yet?" Irritation in my voice is palpable, but perhaps the pillows somehow contained that annoyance in their feathers because the Illyrian has the audacity to laugh, a loud laughter that comes from the depths of his chest.

Before I could curse him with every name I know, my blanket is abruptly pulled off my body. As I cling to the pillows, trying to prevent him from taking them away, I feel the mattress shifting and his weight being placed on me. Peeking under the pillow, his forearms are bracing on either side of my body, preventing his entire weight from resting on me. His wings are spread, and a few strands of his hair escape from the bun.

"Are you going to get up, or do I have to take these pillows away too?" His voice is pure amusement, and I'm sure he's wearing that typical smirk of his.

With a very dissatisfied sigh, I push the pillows up, removing them from my face. As I suspected, his smile is evident on his lips, Cassian's face hovering above mine, very close.

I make a face and poke his cheek with my finger. "You really have no fear of death, do you?" Despite my words, the irritation of being woken up so early is set aside for a moment. Cassian's face so close to mine erases any resentment I could have for him being a morning person.

"Not when it's this beautiful," his hand moves, pushing strands of hair away from my face, his features softening. His eyes travel across the expanse of my face, and he's so focused on tracing the contours of my cheeks with his finger that he doesn't realize he's been doing it for a few minutes.

"You're staring, General," I murmur, a playful smile forming on my lips as I see his eyes darken with the title used. His finger doesn't stop caressing my cheek, but his face descends a bit, his lips hovering a few inches from mine.

He whispers to me, his breath mixing with mine, "With a sight like this? You can't blame me." He doesn't wait a second after finishing the sentence to press our lips together, a warm and desire-filled kiss.

My hands grab his hair, and the bun easily unravels as I grip the strands, his mouth dancing over mine as our tongues connect and dance. When he breaks the kiss, it's only because we need to breathe, but he plants soft and quick kisses while stabilizing his breath, then descending and leaving a trail of wet kisses on my neck.

I bring his face up, looking into his eyes, the previous amusement replaced by lust. My arched eyebrow and mischievous smile draw his eyes back to my lips. Before he can kiss me again, I speak.

"I thought we were going to be late for training if I didn't get up soon." The amusement in my voice prompts an eye roll from him in response.

"Screw the training; my only commitment now is with your body." And his lips resume leaving trails of kisses, descending from my neck to my collarbone. Laughter escapes me as his wife reverberates throughout the room, Cassian focusing on kissing me everywhere.

Azriel

Azriel's lips passionately met mine, his hands gripping my waist, pulling me closer. I'm a complete mess; one of my hands supports me on his arm, while the other grabs his hair. My feet barely touch the ground, striving for height to reach his lips. His warm mouth against mine, our tongues entwining, he pulls back just enough to capture my lower lip between his teeth, causing delightful shivers.

His hand moves up to my neck; his thumb rests on my chin, tilting my face upward. His lips trail down, planting a kiss on my jaw and then on my neck. He lightly bites and kisses the spot that never fails to elicit sighs from me.

As he pulls away, I open my eyes, meeting his brown, sparkling eyes admiring my face. His hands cup my cheeks, a small smile playing on his lips. My lip throbs, feeling swollen, yet Azriel gazes at me with such devotion that all I can do is smile back, my heart racing as if it's the first time he's touched me this way. It isn't, but my body seems to forget that in the moment.

Azriel continues watching me, but my attention is momentarily diverted as a bright flash catches my peripheral vision. I turn my head, his hand moving from my cheek to hold mine as I observe stars falling from the sky. They start timidly, but as seconds pass, more appear, the sky glowing with the trails they leave behind.

I love this. I love the starfall, sharing the moment with my partner, and more than that, I love how he still hasn't taken his eyes off me, even though the brilliant sky is far more beautiful and interesting to watch.

"You're staring," I murmur, my eyes still fixed on the sky. Azriel wraps his arms around my shoulders from behind, his wings blocking the wind around us. He places a gentle kiss on the top of my head, then lowers his lips to my ear, whispering in response.

"You're so beautiful; it's hard not to look, my love." His voice in that tone is incredibly sensual, and the shadows dancing on my arms as I hold onto his bring a delightful sensation.

I don't respond with words; instead, I send all the love and warmth I can through the golden bond that connects us. My eyes remain fixed on the stars detaching from the sky above us, but I'm sure he's still trying to study any detail he hasn't memorized yet, even with our closeness.

Feyre

The sun warming my skin is a very welcome sensation, the fabric of the sheet that Feyre and I spread on the grass earlier is a bit disheveled, but I don't mind.

The comfortable silence we're in is filled with occasional sounds of pages turning in my book and the strokes Freyre makes on her canvas. I lie on my stomach, reading the new suspense novel my lovely partner gifted me a few days ago. The story is at a particularly tense point, a crucial revelation is imminent, and I can feel it.

This may have been one of the best ideas Feyre had in the last month. She was recently inspired to paint landscapes and planned an outdoor day. With all the shared love, she asked if I wanted to accompany her. We didn't go far, choosing a spot near the Sidra River. We arrived in the early afternoon and planned to stay until the sun gave way to the moon.

Despite wanting to continue reading, Feyre's gaze distracts me. Giving up on reading, I sit up, looking at her. From my angle, I can't see what she's painting very well, but the paints are still scattered around us, and she's still holding the brush, so I deduce she hasn't finished the painting.

"Baby, you're staring," I stretch, trying to see what she's painting, curious to see her progress, but she quickly pulls the canvas away from my view. The warmth that fills her cheeks as she looks away from me gives me a hint as to why she was staring at me.

A mischievous smile forms on my lips. I lean forward, innocently running the tip of my nail on her bare leg. "You know, when you said you wanted to paint the landscape, I didn't think you were referring to me."

She chuckles at the teasing, rolling her eyes as she mumbles something. She places the canvas in one of the paints, away from my sight, and turns to me, her hand reaching to grab mine. Her finger is smeared with paint, and as she runs it over me, I get stained with the hue she was using, but I don't complain.

"You're too beautiful; it's hard to capture you in a painting," she confesses to me. Her brown eyes meet mine, her freckles reflecting the sunlight and seeming to glow. It's ironic for Feyre to say this about me; the beauty she carries is otherworldly, yet I am the one challenging to be captured in paints.

"Pfft, you can turn anything into the most beautiful art, Fey," I roll my eyes at her, her hand drawing a pattern on mine gently. "But I can be your muse whenever you want. I don't mind how long it takes for you to finish your painting."

She smiles at my response. Her other hand, which previously held the brush, holds my face tenderly, and she stares at me for a few more seconds in silence, studying and analyzing my face, imprinting the details with her eyes and fingertips. When she finishes, she goes back to grab the canvas and the brush, speaking excitedly.

"Alright then, get into a comfortable position. This will probably take some time," she starts mixing colors and dipping them into the brush as I lean back, sitting in a more comfortable way.

When she resumes painting, I'm still laughing, and as the sun sets, giving way to the moon, she remains focused, alternating her gaze between me and the canvas, until she completes her masterpiece.

Nesta

In this, Nesta and I have developed a small tradition in our relationship. At least once a month, we go to any bookstore we choose at the moment, even if we don't plan to buy any books or have only bought a few days ago. We simply go, wander around the store, and talk – sometimes we browse through books on the shelves, other times we just observe. It doesn't matter much what we do in the bookstore; we just go.

That's why the day after I return from a political trip to the Day Court, Nesta wakes me up early. We have breakfast together, then leisurely stroll to a new bookstore that opened while I was away. The place is beautiful and cozy, the smell of books is relaxing, and Nesta's hand in mine brings a sense of comfort. We are almost at the back of the bookstore, in the erotic books section, when one of the covers catches my attention.

"Oh! Helion had this book in his library; I read it while I was there." I release Nesta's hand to pick up the book. The cover is as discreet as the title; at first glance, nothing would indicate the content inside this book, except for the category it belongs to.

I flip through the book, reading some random passages and recalling the story. A laugh escapes my throat as I turn to Nesta and show her one of the excerpts. "Look at this."

Nesta's eyebrow arches as she reads the passage I showed her. A quieter laugh, compared to mine, also escapes her, and her eyes meet mine as she says, "Well, it's a... uninteresting scene."

I nod, agreeing with her, and turn back to the shelf, running my finger over the covers. "I really didn't expect that while reading, although it makes sense when compared to the rest of the story." Then I briefly start recounting the story – how the main couple faced various challenges when together but always had a significant tension between them.

I pick up another book, turning the cover and reading its summary. It seems interesting. "Look, Nes, it's from that new author you were interested in. The story sounds good; it's about..."

When I turn to show her the book I found, she still has the previous book in her hands, open to the page I handed her. Her eyes stare at me with an affectionate gaze, causing my cheeks to flush with the attention she gives me, and I release a nervous giggle.

"Darling, you're staring at me," I murmur, shyness covering my voice. This seems to snap Nesta out of the trance she was in because she blinks, very slowly, and a mischievous smile forms on her lips – a smile that sends shivers down my spine.

She closes the book in her hands, takes the one in mine, and puts both back on the shelf, pulling me close to her. "You look too beautiful when you talk about the books you like," she murmurs, her lips nearing mine.

Her eyes burn with mischief, her hand moves up to my nape, pulling me closer, our lips inches apart. "Tell me more about the book, about all the books you read while you were away," her lips meet mine in the next moment.

Morrigan

Morrigan's dissatisfied murmurs filled my ears as I watched her argue with herself through the vanity mirror about the three dresses scattered on the bed. Smiling at her indecision, I resumed applying makeup, finishing the products on my eyes and cheeks, adding color and life to my face.

Digging into Mor's vanity drawer, I searched for a lipstick to complement the outfit I chose for the night. Once I found the perfect shade, I glanced back at the mirror.

Swiftly applying the lipstick, I examined my face—it was perfect and would be even more so when I put on the golden earring that matched Mor's. With that thought, I sought her reflection and found her staring at me through the mirror with a puzzled look, still undecided on her choice. Turning to face her, still seated on the stool, I raised my eyebrows at her pout, and she scrutinized me with puppy-dog eyes.

"You're staring, babe," I stood up, approaching the bed with the intention of helping her choose her outfit but was interrupted when she pulled me close, pressing her body against mine. Her eyes descended to the lips I had just painted, now adorned with a mischievous smile.

"You're beautiful; I can't help but look," I playfully rolled my eyes, accustomed to her flattery.

She brushed a strand of my hair back, clearing it from my face, and leaned forward, sealing our lips. I got lost in the kiss, engulfed in the passion she radiated. Our mouths moved in harmony; my hand held her face, preventing her from pulling away. We only broke the kiss because we needed air. As her lips moved far enough from mine for coherent thought, I noticed the color on hers.

She furrowed her brows, confused by my exasperated sigh. When I quickly distanced myself and walked back to the vanity, she became even more perplexed. Until I looked at myself in the mirror and realized the chaos my face had become—lipstick smeared everywhere, ruining the makeup I had done.

I groaned and turned to her, attempting to hide a laugh behind her fist, "Morrigan," I whined, "now I have to clean up and redo it."

She approached again, her hands running up my arms and stopping at the base of my neck, her fingertips playing with my hair. "Well, at least I'll have more time to decide what to wear," she chuckled loudly as I huffed indignantly.

[dontbelasagnax]

Ok fine! You’ve convinced me! I’ll learn how to draw specifically so I can draw codywan kissing, you’ve spread your gospel successfully

…

How do you draw tho fr cuz I can doodle like, funky lookin birds but people is fully out of my depth send help

AAAA HELL YEAHHHH!!!!! LET'S GOOOO!!!!!

You've opened a can of worms asking me for art advice so *cracks knuckles* buckle up.

I sort of (only a little bit) use the Loomis method for easy head drawing. Here is a playlist of YouTube videos by Proko. Highly, highly recommend that channel for your art tutorial needs!

I start with a circle. For side profiles, I draw a line down the side of the circle to determine where the features will sit upon. I draw a triangular shape to mark where the orbital socket is. Around the middle point of the circle is where the jawline ends and the ear begins so draw a line there. There are proportion rules which are good guidelines when starting out in art but since I've been doing this my entire life, I have a feel for things and just wing it. That's to say, I put in a line implying the jaw based on vibes.

Next, I draw the eyebrows and brow ridge. Then the nose. I find I majorly base my proportions on this area so if anything is off, it throws the rest of the face off.

Then I draw the lips and chin... or in Obi-Wan's case, his beard. I will mark in his sideburns and hairline as well. Now, about ears: generally the top of the ear begins right around the top of the eyebrow and stops at the base of the nose. At this point I like to draw his eye, define the cheekbone, and refine the eyebrow. I'll finish scribbling in hair and that's it!

(Cody is much the same but I forgot to take useful progress pics 😂)

Extended Art Advice 👇

Tip #1: Draw lightly. Do not ever grip your pencil tight. This only leads to pain. You will notice I didn't erase at all. This is partly because I know what marks to make because I've done it a million times before and also because my lines are soft enough I can make lots of them and choose to deepen the ones that work.

Tip #2: Practice, practice, practice. Artistic skill is just loads and loads of accumulated knowledge and muscle memory from practice. This sounds boring but, in reality, you should make it fun.

Tip #3: Draw from observation/USE REFERENCE! The only reason I can get away without using reference when I'm feeling lazy is because I've drawn the same things over and over enough times it stuck. Aka I did lots of practice.

Now, to combine all these tips together, let's talk about how to use reference and how to make practice fun.

Reference is a huge aid when drawing at any point in your art journey. But I've found that in order to learn from what you're looking at, you need to think critically.

You obviously have something you want to draw. Reference helps you with that. You'll start out trying to draw what you see. Eventually you will run into an obstacle where you've messed up and things aren't looking good. This is to be expected. Every time this happens, think about what isn't working and find solutions with your reference. Analyze your subject to find your answers. Draw it again. Do not be afraid of failure. Each time you fail, you must look for a solution and this will lead you closer to your goal. This is how you grow as an artist.

I know, it sounds dreadfully boring and like a shit ton of work. It is a lot of work but you can make it fun! You love Obi-Wan and Cody so make Pinterest boards of Ewan McGregor and Temuera Morrison. Whatever you want to practice (may that be eyes, mouths, hands, hair, the face as a whole, etc) draw them. Ever hear tracing is bad? Fuck that. It's a perfectly valid tool to help you learn. If you're drawing digitally, pull up your reference in the art program of your choice, lower the opacity a little, make a new layer and trace what you see. I honestly find tracing to be very hard so when I've done this, I prefer to try to find shapes that will aid me when I'm actually drawing. If you're drawing traditionally, you can print out the photo and trace over it with a tracing paper or use a lightbox. You can also up the brightness on your computer screen and tape a piece of paper and trace that way.

Photos aren't the only references you can use! You can always look to your favorite artists' work and try to figure out how they do it. Often artists will break things down into more easily digestible shapes that will help you better understand how things work. Remember, if you ever copy or trace someone's art, it is for learning purposes only and you shouldn't post it. Feel free to take elements of people's art that you like and put your own spin on it though. For instance: I really love how this one artist draws men's tits so I studied a bunch of their art and now I'm much better at drawing them.

Oh and did you think you only get practice in while studying? Wrong! There's no reason you should shy away from trying to make the art you really want just because your skills aren't the most refined. Spoiler alert: you will grow the most when you push yourself out of your comfort zone. Draw codywan kissing. Draw it really enthusiastically and through profuse swearing and gritted teeth... but never a clenched hand. Don't hold back from the fun stuff just because it's hard. Aim high, land low, and shoot even higher next time.

In the beginning it will be especially frustrating. You'll feel like everything you make is a failure and nothing works out. You'll feel like you're not making any progress. Trust me, you are making progress and I believe in you.

If something really isn't working out and you find yourself growing distressed, take a break. It might last an hour or a week. Just take the break. Don't push it. Come back with fresh eyes and less stress. We all have days where nothing comes out right. Sometimes I can't even draw anything resembling a human face. It's okay. Whisper-yell expletives at your artwork and take the break. It will be okay.

With all that said, happy drawing and even happier codywan kissing!! 🧡💋🩵