#anyways i’m weird looking but my skin is nice at least ❤️

[blairwitchapologist]

pov: my skin looks better than it has in months but i’ve decided to only take selfie on my ipad from now on so will you ever truly know?

[luveline]

would you ever be willing to write the day spencer and stripper!reader met in the grocery store? i’ve always loved the concept when you’ve referenced it in the story, i would love to read it👀 you’re absolutely incredible and i can never say anything not anon to you because my blog is flooding you with notes constantly and i’m embarrassed😅

thank you for your request ❤️ fem!reader, 1.5k

cw for domestic violence and workplace abuse

There's this weird organic grocery store by Spencer's place that's far too expensive, but it's a ten minute walk, so that's where he goes. (Weird in separation to organic.) 

He needs a lot of groceries now he's home for the week. Bread, vegetables, rice, flour if he wants to try and make pancakes, which he does. He also needs a new pen to write a letter for his mom, but Leaven is slightly too small for a stationery section. 

He doesn't know what he'll say to her in this one. Maybe that the cases he's going on are easy, or that he's been reading about crows. She's not feeling well lately. It might help her to know he's doing gentle things, even if it isn't true. 

No, he thinks. Can't lie to her. He never lies to his mom. 

Eggs. Sugar. Coffee grounds. He fills his cart. It'll be a lot to carry on the way home, but better to do it in one go. He likes keeping busy but he's a human being, too, and he's looking forward to spending at least sixteen hours in bed after dinner tonight. 

You look tired, too. 

Your back is turned, but Spencer knows it's you. You must live close by, he's been seeing you duck in and out for months. Usually with a loaf of bread or a single box of painkillers tucked in your pocket. You don't steal, he'd be able to tell, and he wouldn't say anything if you did, anyways. All he knows about you is that you have a nice smile when you have the energy, and your voice is like silk. Purposeful or by nature, he's yet to guess. 

You're standing by the end of the aisle near the checkouts with a basket hanging from your fingers. All you're buying today is a box of pancake mix and a bag of peas. 

Weird, he thinks with a smile. Spencer likes weird stuff. It's quirky. 

You turn to see which checkout is empty and Spencer's smile abruptly drops. 

You have a bruise across half of your face. It isn't strictly fresh —he can see the split skin on your cheek starting to close in on itself, and your purpled eye is open (though barely). You're frowning. Spencer knows how bad it hurts to get hurt like that. For a split second he can't believe someone could do that to another person, and then he remembers the hundreds of women he's had the privilege to meet at their most vulnerable, who trusted him, and he thinks maybe he's capable of helping another one. 

“Hey,” he says. 

You meet his eyes with a funny smile. “Hey. Sorry, am I in the way?” you ask, your voice stretched, thin but not weak. 

“No, you're not, it's… I see you here all the time.” 

You hold your breath. When you talk, it rushes out. “So?” you ask wearily.

“Are you okay?” 

Your funny smile fades as Spencer's had. He supposes that's the talent of cruelty. Even when it's over, it's not truly over. Your bruise still hurts, and Spencer still needs to know you'll be okay when you go home tonight. 

“I see you all the time too. We've… we've actually spoken before, haven't we?” you ask after a moment. 

“Yeah, about spirometry. I was out of breath running and–” It doesn't matter. You asked him if he was okay, and he explained that he was, just that his lungs don't hold much air on account of his own laziness, and it doesn't matter. “Are you? Alright? It's a bad bruise.” 

“It's getting better.” 

It might be, but there's something so raw about seeing you standing there in your sweatpants too big for you and a hoodie with a hole in it, purple and yellow contusion across your eyes and nose like the clumsy stroke of a paintbrush. Spencer will admit to feeling sorry for you.

“Can I talk to you?” he asks, knowing this isn't the right place. “There's the cafe at the front? Let me pay for my stuff and–” 

“I'm really okay–” 

“You had a cast on your wrist two weeks ago and now you're here with a limp and a really bad bruise,” he says softly, imploringly, “I just wanna talk to you about it. You don't have to say yes, I'm not trying to be weird, but I–” 

You cut off his mile a minute speech with a small smile. “Okay. I'm not, you know, doing anything anyways. It'll be nice to sit down.” 

Spencer knows it's dumb, but he wants to show he has good intentions. He takes your basket out of your hands and nods toward the cafe past the checkouts. “I'll come and meet you.” 

“You don't have to,” you say, gesturing at the basket. 

“The damage is done, right? This place is ridiculous.” He doesn't like the way you're holding your hip. It makes him feel sick, even though there's no proof one way or another to say you've been hurt beyond your bruising.

He pays for his things and yours and meets you at the cafe. He's half expecting you to have bolted, but you sit at a table near the entrance, completely still. 

Spencer puts his two bags under the table and offers you your pancake mix and peas in their own bag. 

“Thanks.” 

“Yeah, no problem.” 

“It was my boss.” You look at your fingers, spreading them slowly over the table top. “I’m a dancer. Sorry. I know you’re going to ask.” 

“And he hit you?” 

“Yeah.” 

Spencer knows the number for every women’s shelter in every state, but he doubts it would matter to you. He can tell already that you’d say no. He can tell you’re scared, even if you don’t realise it yourself. “Is it getting worse?”

You can’t offer him anything else. He understands how that feels. There have been moments where he desperately wanted to tell someone, anyone, what was going on in his life, but he always holds his secrets like a perpetual ache in his throat. It’s like he can’t tell someone, even if they ask. 

Sometimes he just wishes they’d ask twice. 

“You can tell me. It won’t sound stupid,” he promises. He’s in some odd place between Agent Reid and young, terrified Spencer, determined to help you, but not sure how. “It’s getting worse, right?” 

“Yeah,” you say, the weight of tears on your tongue. 

“You’re a dancer. Is he just a boss– Does he… abuse you financially?” 

You laugh wetly. “He’s not my pimp.” 

He can feel his face heating up.’“No, but do you get paid on time? Everything you earn?” 

You shake your head. “No, I don’t get paid on time. He takes a percentage, and somehow there’s always another percentage, and then discipline. And now…” 

“Now he’s hitting you.” Very badly. 

“I’m not stupid.” 

Spencer frowns gently, talks softly, “I didn’t mean to imply that you were.” 

“No, I know, but I need you to know I’m not stupid. When we talked before, you– you’re so smart, I bet you know so many smart people.” 

He’s not sure where you’re going with this. Perhaps you don’t want to talk about being hurt anymore. It must be a kind of torture to be hurting and know that that hurting will come again. There isn’t an end in sight for you, just right now. 

“Can I buy you something to eat?” 

“I have money,” you say, taking your small purse from your pocket. There are a few notes wedged inside. 

“You can’t take painkillers on an empty stomach, and you should take painkillers again soon. You had some before you came, and they’re wearing off.” He meets your confused frown with a frown of his own. “Your hands are twitching like you want to move away from yourself.” 

“You’re very perceptive,” you say in that smooth murmur. Power clawed back, he thinks. You’re protecting one of the things you can control about how you’re seen when everything else is far from it. 

“I’m a profiler. Do you,” —he tries not to sound hoity toity— “know what that is?” 

“No.” 

“I’m an FBI agent.” You’re laughing as he takes out his badge. He joins you. “I know it sounds like I’m making it up.” Spencer offers you his identification passport slowly, so you know he isn’t wielding it around to be an asshole. “I’m in the behavioural analysis unit. We analyse the way people act. That’s why I know you’re in pain.” 

You take his badge, looking between his photo and his real face with a growing smile. “If you need all that to know I’m in pain, you’re not as smart as you think,” you tease, gesturing to the mottled skin of your bruise sweetly. 

Spencer buys you both cold sandwiches from the front of the shop and a drink to wash down your aspirin. It’s awkward, he guesses, but he’s used to that by now, and under it he can feel your palpable relief. You trust him to not hurt you, if nothing else, and he can work with that. 

[minjunz]

heyyy i hope your doing finee <3 i just saw that yangyang and shotaro as boyfriends and that was literally the most satisfying and cutest thing ive read so far :( ... also nice to meet u! im new on here (like no joke i just joined like 2 weeks ago)— anyways cld i req the same thing but with xiaojun and hendery as well 🥺🫶🏽 idk im in my feels 😞❤️ take your time w this one lovely xoxo

hii!! i hope you’re doing fine as well ^^ had to absolutely wrack my tiny little peanut brain for these, i’m so bad at writing for anyone except nct dream so i’m super sorry if this is subpar D: ty for requesting though!

nice to meet you too btw!!!!

xiaojun and hendery as boyfriends! [gn reader]

XIAOJUN ☀️

goes shopping with you but you both end up just buying stuff for bella instead

takes bella on walks with you and you end up having to run with him

appreciates all your weird jokes but doesn’t really understand them. he just thinks you’re cute

constantly gushing about you to everyone

experiments with recipes (like the oreo cake) and uses you as his test subject

would die for you

sends you gym photos. also sends you bella photos

you constantly get into dumb playful arguments about stupid things like if milk or cereal goes first

likes headbutting you in an affectionate way

if you’re checking your outfit in the mirror he’ll come up behind you and just start flexing

pinches your cheeks so often there’s xiaojun prints permanently engraved in your skin

he also likes laying his head on your ass. he says it’s like a heated pillow

tries to act mature and manly when you go for nights out

you get home and he immediately falls on top of you and won’t move unless you pinch or kiss him

prefers video call to audio call if he’s away

he’s always trying to get you to feel more confident

i think he’s the type to give a million pecks instead of just one kiss

[sorry i see xiaojun as a brother figure it’s so hard to write for him 😭]

you ask him to step on you as a joke and he looks at you like you’re clinically insane

makes an effort to take you on as many dates as he possibly can

you build giant lego sets together

takes the worst photos of you but it’s ok

makes dinosaur noises at you to end conversations

protects his squidward beanie with his life. the only thing you’re not allowed to touch when he has it on

he looks like a guard dog from afar but he’s actually whispering “look at my boobs” into your ear

HENDERY ☁️

a clown.

if he can’t make you laugh at least thrice a day then he won’t sleep

i feel like 90% of the time he’s messing around and being playful with you but the other 10% of the time he’s SO romantic

like he’ll set up candle light three course meals in your living room just because he wants to

he gets really really shy/awkward when meeting your friends or family though and won’t let go of your hand

will wake you up by making weird noises in your face or twerking

calls you his prince/princess in the middle of kisses

puts on his ‘girl voice’ when he wants you to do something

force feeds you his food because he wants you to try it

buys shirts with you in mind. he wants you to like them enough to steal them

nose boops you like a dog

vlogs to his story and always hypes you up for no reason

“hey guys look at how amazing, gorgeous, cool, showstopping, brilliant, incredible, magnificent and CUTE y/n is. look at my baby.”

knows all your likes and dislikes. he’ll eat what you don’t like if you’re determined to get something with it though

compliments you in a different language to your face then refuses to tell you what he’s saying

even if you’re attacking him he’ll just grin and shake his head

sometimes you wake up and he’s just stood at the foot of your bed like a sleep paralysis demon

or he’s stood in front of your mirror doing weird dances

staring contests but he’s trying to distract you by blowing kisses the whole time

sends you cat thirst trap photos

absolutely destroys you when you play fight then apologises immediately after

so comfortable around you. almost too comfortable. like he shits with the door open

sends you horrible puns every hour

neighbours called the police once because they thought you were murdering someone but you were just trying to make hendery jump and he screamed

[lcvett]

Cuddling.

Request: Can you do some fluff on James and Alyssa there is nothing and I need some in my life 😍❤️

Pairing: Jalyssa

Fandom: The end of the f***ing world

T/W: mentions of gunshot wounds, mentions of prison.

***

It was late afternoon, perhaps about three pm, and Alyssa had refused to let James get out of bed. She wanted to cuddle for a while and James had already been told to rest.

James had just finished up with his sentence, which lasted a little over twelve months and Alyssa was thrilled to have him back though she would never say that. He had undergone treatment for his wound after running from the police and Alyssa swears her head still hurts from the impact with the gun.

But that wasn’t important now. Now the only important thing was James finally being back in the same room as Alyssa, sleeping next to her without running from police and hiding out in houses that weren’t their own. James usually had to meet with a therapist now, and Alyssa didn’t mind going with him. He was usually rather quiet now, hardly ever speaking, but he spoke to Alyssa quite a bit when they were alone.

Alyssa was always the big spoon. Not because James didn’t like being the big spoon, but simply because Alyssa didn’t like being the little spoon.

Her arms were wrapped around him as she blinked slowly, her eyes flickering as she looked at him. He was properly beautiful to put it in her own words. She loved him so much.

Now he stirred, he was awakening and he had slightly startled Alyssa with the sudden movement though she would deny it if he asked.

He turned to face her, his eyes doe-like as they examined her face for a moment. He thought she was properly beautiful too. James was 19 now and he was very sure that he had found the love of his life. The Bonnie to his Clyde. Literally.

Alyssa was 18 and feeling the same way he did. She eyed his sleepy expression, noting the dozy look in his eyes and his sloppy half smile which tugged at his lips. She wanted to kiss him but then again she didn’t want to yet. She didn’t want to look away from him even to kiss him.

She felt his hands rest against her middle-back, her shirt had hiked up some to reveal her mid and lower back and most of her stomach though she didn’t really care much. His fingers gently traced circles along her spine before tracing along her spine as if he was counting the vertebrae. She supposed he probably was.

“I’m cold.” Nice one Alyssa. Not a ‘did you sleep well’ or ‘Get the fuck up, lazy cunt.’ No. Of course not.

But James didn’t care that she didn’t greet him. In fact he kind of preferred it in some weird way. He smiled a little more before reaching out and pulling up a second blanket to keep Alyssa warm.

England was always cold this time of year anyway, so it was rather understandable. Alyssa wrapped her legs up with his beneath the covers, her cold feet warming up against his calf. He didn’t mind that either.

Alyssa could almost tell which hand was his burnt one against her back, but she had grown much more used to the feeling of the burned skin against her own. She didn’t mind it. It was a part of him and she was sure she loved every part of James.

“You’re really beautiful.” James stated, his voice a little croaky with sleep. It was the first time he had spoken since he woke up a few moments ago and honestly it made Alyssa blush lightly. He often passed comments like that and it would fluster her every time.

“Shut up.” Alyssa stated simply, burying her face into his chest so she could avoid any of his comments about her tomato colour face.

James was always warm. That contrasted with the fact that Alyssa was always cold and they went together perfectly.

Alyssa balled her hand around the fabric of James’ shirt as she let out a deep sigh. Alyssa hated being away from him, it had really began to freak her out whenever he wasn’t in view at least. Twelve months was a lot of time to get through alone, and she was there waiting for him once they let him out.

James didn’t expect to see Alyssa again after he got arrested. It just didn’t seem likely. He supposed that she had gone back home — which she did — and listened to her fathers advice and stayed away from him. Even if her father was a twat it seemed like the best idea.

Alyssa inhaled James’ scent. It wasn’t a particular scent like most people, no, James’ scent was hard to put your finger on. He often smelled like vanilla and baked bread, but today he smelled more like Alyssa’s cheap perfume. Perhaps she used too much. She thought he noticed too.

She hugged him a little before sitting up straight, her hair in brown tangles as she looked around the room. It wasn’t too dark, but the winter season made it darker than I usually would have been at three o’clock. James watched her for a moment, unbeknownst to him what she was doing or if she was getting out of bed at last.

“I’m going to go shower, are you joining me?” Alyssa asked, looking back at him and silently hoping he said yes, which he probably would. She wanted to get the smell of cheap perfume off herself.

James nodded before sitting up much slower than she did. He stretched a little before wincing and getting out from under the covers. Showering together was not a ‘sexual’ act. They did it to save water and money and frankly because they didn’t like being away from eachother.

Alyssa smiled to herself before getting out of bed and pulling off her nightdress right there. She didn’t really care about the large bedroom window anyway. She set the nightdress down on the bed and walked — in her undergarments mind you — to the bathroom. James simply shook his head, smiled, and then followed her to the bathroom, shedding his t-shirt as he did so.