#but even though i don't love how most of them turned out

[classyrbf]

jjk men vs nipple piercings🤭

LOOK, BUT DON'T TOUCH! — JJK MEN

SYNOPSIS...how the jjk men act when you decide to get your nipples pierced

INFO...jjk men x fem!reader, suggestive content, talks of sex, talks of touching breasts, talks of sucking on breasts, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

thank you for the request @kyymanii

GOJO

he’s completely shocked the moment you pull up your shirt and reveal them. I’m talking, jaw dropped, eyes bulging out his head. It’s nothing his six eyes have seen before. “Holy…can I touch em?” He pouts, reaching his hands out before you slap them away. “Ow!”

“They’re freshly pierced and I’m not risking you ruining them.” You shake your head. “Look all you want, Toru, but no touching!”

“Baby! Please!” He clasps his hands together. “I’ll get down on my knees! Just touch around them? Please, please, please—”

“I said no.” You pull your shirt back down and he lets out the most dramatic cry you’ve ever heard in your life.

“How long do I have to go without touching your beautiful melons, baby?” He sniffles, wiping a fake tear.

“Ew, don’t call them that. And a few months at least,” you explain.

“No!” He cries out, dramatically flopping on the bed.

NANAMI

As soon as you walk in the door, Nanami can already see the mischievous smile on your face. He knows you’re up to no good. “Kentoooo!” You call out his name, walking over to him.

“Yes, honey.” He pulls his reading glasses off and looks up from his book. And without warning, you lifted your shirt and his eyes go wide. “Oh…I—wow…”

“You like ‘em?” You giggle. He nods silently, he can’t even take his eyes off of you. “Can’t touch ‘em though.”

“What? What do you mean?” He sounds genuinely confused, blinking up at you. “Honey, you can’t just show me that and not expect to want to touch them.”

“No touching, mister. Look all you want, drool all you want, but no touching.” You pull your shirt back down carefully.

“You are such a tease.” He huffs, putting his glasses back on. “You knew exactly what you were doing.”

GETO

“Sugu, baby, guess what?” You place your bag down on the bed, carefully slipping your jacket off. He walks out the bathroom shirtless, stretching his arms.

“What is it, babe?” He leans against the wall as you turn towards him and lift your shirt up. “Oh? Oh!” His brows furrow.

“You like it? Now we match.” You nod towards his pierced chest.

“Baby, you can’t get your nipples pierced.” He walks over to you, placing his hands on your waist.

“Why not? You don’t think they look nice?” You frown.

“Oh, no, they do. That’s the problem. Now I have to wait months before I can suck on your pretty tits again. You torture me, love,” he sighs heavily.

“Oh shit. I didn’t think about that.” You’re quick to realize the consequences of your actions knowing it’s all too late to do anything about it.

TOJI

You hid your piercings as best as you could from Toji in the few days that you got them. Opting on wearing a shirt everytime you had sex and he found it odd, thinking you were growing insecure. Then, one day he realized he could see piercings through one of your tight shirts. “You sneaky little shit.”

“Huh—hey!” You protest as he lifts up your shirt, exposing your chest. “Toji!”

“No wonder you’ve been wearing shirts during sex.” He stares at your tits, reaching a hand out.

“Do not touch them!” You grab his wrist. “This is exactly why I didn’t tell you. You can’t keep your hands to yourself for shit!”

“Awe, come on,” he chuckles. “How do you expect me to when your tits look like that. And now that you got them pierced? I’m hard just thinking about it.” He bites down on his bottom lip.

“Look at them however you want, but hands off!” You pull your shirt down.

“As long as you keep wearing shirts like that, oh I will.” He smirks.

CHOSO

Choso sat there with his eyes closed, smiling as he waited for the surprise you supposedly had for him. “Can I open?”

“Not yet!” You smile, lifting your shirt to your chest. “Okay, open!”

He opens his eyes expecting a gift bag or a box, but nope. All he sees in front of his are your tits. Your pierced tits. He feels his cheeks heat up and looks away. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to look!”

“No, Choso! That was the surprise!” You laugh. “I got them pierced. He slowly looks back at your chest, blinking.

“They…look really, really nice.” He gulps.

“Yeah? I think so too. Can’t touch them though or they can get infected.” You pout, feeling how sore your breasts were.

“What? You mean I can’t touch them? Like at all?” He asks.

“Well, not too close to the piercing. It’s very sore,” you explain. “Boobies are off limits for a good while, baby.”

“But your boobs are my favorite.” His face scrunches up in dissatisfaction.

[lifeonmarz-blog]

Every planet in the 12th: Observations

The 12th house shows you in which ways you can leave the biggest impact on the world in the purest most intentional way if you so choose.

*I didn't feel like proof reading spare me*

sun in the 12th often misperceived or seen as having underlining motives even when that is furthest from the truth. Actually quite often upfront with their intentions regardless if they know more than they've led you to believe. The projection others put on them is veryyy high, sun person unconsciously triggering deep seated wounds in others while they just assume they’re having a normal conversation. They either love gossip or are always being brought up in gossip. Attracting secret admirers bc of the taboo aspect of their personality. They teach others how to be themselves through example and that gives them the popular loner vibe, everyone wants to know whats going on in their life. Though Its often not as interesting as the stories that are being created about them (probably at home chilling). Unintentionally very funny their light hearted nature makes others feel comfortable. They know how to create warm welcomes. They can read animals minds. They dress how they feel. Escape artist. Probably through music, film or imagination. Gift for photography.

moon in 12th romantic relationships have a big influence on these people. They'll change their whole life around to fit into their lovers life for better or worse. Naturally harmonious these people are seemingly unsuspecting until you piss them off then you realize they just choose to keep peace. Prone to escapism usually through some sort of creative pursuit turned business. Obviously not forward with their feelings ppl tend to label them as having their head in the clouds when in reality they have plans its just nobody else's business. There's a love/resentful relationship with the mother. The mother could've been a physical provider but not emotional. These ppl had to nurture and comfort themselves and it made them very good at being those things for others. Children and animals loveeeee them. They are givers and don't mind sharing for the greater good. Dependable and persistent they can stick out something they feel is important. But if they don't care... Oh its very obvious. That job they don't like? Oh don't even worry about it they'll quit. They don't like feeling stressed or unharmonious and don't mind removing anything thats trying to hinder that. In the lower natures this creates a person that ignores anything that would make them have to readjust their behavior. Extremely delusional and misreads the room quite often. Very emotional changing how they feel about you frequently. It can become hard to give and receive trust.

Mars in the 12th manifest things/experiences so easy especially through their connections. They know how to put themselves in the right rooms with the right people. They date people that improve their social standing and they do the same in return. When its comes to career they could've seemed like the runt in the group but they grew themselves to be well respected in their field. Often hearing ''you only got this because''. They attract a lot of haters jealous of their success or the way they got their success. these people are attractive and naturally have a body others envy, they always have options and good ones at that.

Venus in 12th boy oh boy the hopeless romantics, but whats so hopeless about it? Others may often wonder why you picked the person you did viewing you as opposites. There may be an age gap or cultural difference. The women often choose partners that have a different social standing or perception than their own. The Men do the same though their more willing to be in relationships with unrequited love. Have had their fair share of infidelity issues until they found the person that would ride or die for them and vise versa. Privacy and trust are high priority for these people. Very good at socializing they know how to read what is needed to improve the energy of a space. Their parties/hostings are always so inviting and rememberable. They work very well with children and animals. Especially those in need. Fostering is something they wouldn't mind doing, along with nursing things back to health. Examples hair, nails. Plants etc. Very crafty they'd create beautiful jewelry and clothing. Their style is unique and acquired taste even. Controlling an image or narrative comes natural these Pol could do damage control for celebrities. When Ppl are in a frantic state they know how to calm assist.

Mercury in 12th are good at controlling the narratives around themselves. People hand on to every word that's said. These are the types that prefer to talk when necessary and not give out to much information. Just enough to keep you hooked. They have a unique sound and are musically inclined it helps that they think outside of the box. Usually the leader of the group because of their ability to see the broader picture and keep everyones best interest at heart. They attract haters bc they set high goals for themselves they get viewed as outlandish or unpractical when actually they just believe in themselves and remain optimistic. They know alot about very specific niche things.

Jupiter in the 12th don't get the credit they deserve for being so iconic. They really are trendsetters that break molds and stereotypes and tend receive backlash for the things they say & do simply because they were the first to do it. Opening up the pathway for others to show up more authentically and protected. They have big expression and are passionate about the things they choose to do. Their not afraid to speak their truth and having a forgiving nature. Creative pursuits are well received by the public attracting sponsors easily. Its also easy for them to find/create a community ppl reall gravitate to them. Their kryptonite lies in their self esteem. If they can't face rejection they'll hide the best parts of themselves. Only seeing the beauty in others and not what they offer the world.

Saturn in the 12th need to know when to stop while their ahead. They get into unnecessary battles bc of a fragile or inflated ego. When the ego is healthy this makes for a very powerful person that commands rooms with ease. They make Pol want to sit up in their chair when they walk in. These Pol are stubborn but more often than not it works out in their favor. Very hard workers and the same energy they apply is expected from those around them. If they put in 80 hrs a week they expect the same from you, if I can do it why can't you mentality. They achieve alot and Ppl notice it but its like no one ever sees them working they just see the finished product and know a lot had to be done behind the scenes. For example let's say someone is very popular you know they would've had to built those relationships you just didn't see it happen. They could have a guilt complex about their achievements and feel like theirs still more they should be doing for other ppl. Growing up as the star, the golden child, the one thats going to help the family put a lot of pressure and responsibility on them. This could've also affected the relationship between the others siblings. Lastly these Ppl are either very serious about punctuality or show up whenever they want to. Maybe even both they could've started out one way and over time became another way. When saturn is damaged they run from responsibility and are viewed as childish and never learning from their lessons.

Neptune in the 12th know how to win over the audience. I chose the word audience bc they love an audience. Ppl will make excuses for their behavior like ''you know they had a rough childhood'' as if that excuses hurting others. Professional sympathy grabbers even when their not even trying and great ass kissers when they want to be. That is in neptunes lower natures ofc. These ppl speak their mind without a fuck given. This is like the only pile im cursing in and that kind of explains them. Their going to say what they want and don't mind shaking the room up. Image is important to them. They'll study their own footage to see what they looked like, sounded like, acted like, and change anything they deem as not fitting. They could be great actors or social media personalities. Also would be good at managing social media accounts. These ppl may be easily persuaded especially by those they view as having a higher social ranking than themselves. Knowing how to adapt to any environment is their strong suit. They act as a mirror in their environment and reflect back whatever energy you give them. To a T at that. They know when to play it up or be more lowkey. This is type of person to always leave lasting impressions on ppl. They could be the first in a taboo field to achieve something. Like being the first pornstar to get 100 million views. Its like when you think you have them figured out they do something else that shows there's many other sides to them. Often hearing ''i didnt think I would like you at first''. With a great sense of humor they know how to laugh at themselves and lighten the mood they don't take life to seriously. They attract a lot of unique ppl their friend group is very expansive. They could be friends with a stripper and an attorney. Hell they might've been a stripper and an attorney.

Uranus in the 12th they just pop up and ppl are surprised like ''omg what are doing here'' these ppl are held in high regard mostly bc their very selective with their energy, your viewed as a busy person so when you come around it makes ppl feel lucky. You treat others fairly and want everyone around you to feel accepted. You value keeping the peace. The fact that I'm even using you instead of they is a reflection of how inclusion is important for you. Having an eccentric vibe is more obvious here but alot of ppl go the opposite way and don't want to appear uniquely at all they actually want to be as plain Jane as possible. This can actually rub ppl the wrong way and make them feel something is being hidden from them like your pretending. Feeling criticized in childhood is why accepting others is something they prioritize. They end up in rooms with many different types of ppl. This placement has a lot of experience in a lot of different areas. With a free spirited nature they are open to trying new things pushing themselves outside of their comfort zone quite often.

Pluto in the 12th, a quiet energy standing in the back of the room scoping out the scenery. They notice more than ppl realize and are smarter than they let on. Often having their power tested bc of their calm observing demeanor. Ppl try to make them feel they don't belong in certain environments or that their not really qualified but they don't mind showing you why that perception isn't accurate. They know how to push back. The type to pretend they don't care about popularity but they work very hard at obtaining it. But maybe they don't care about the popularity just the power that it brings. Knowing the value of relationships they put alot into maintaining them. They are very giving to those around them. Self sacrificing even, its like they believe thats how you show someone you really care. These are some of the most passionate people you'll meet. They just know how to make you feel understood and seen. They make everyone feel special. This is one of the most intense placements for the 12th house. The transformations are deep, murky, confusing but it breeds and very self sufficient determined person. They question everything and are always growing and adapting. When they find something they like they become obsessive about it. They will work for extended amounts at a time. Like binging behavior. In Pluto's lower natures they develop a chip or their shoulder and use their influence to hurt others. If they are operating from that place they become very good at it. If they are never brought into awareness they continue generational curses but their children will have it worse than they did. These are the type of Pol that will tell you a traumatic experience in such a casual way and your just left like wtf you said that like it was normal. They also could've grew up experiencing their traumas being brushed off like they were normal. They were familiar with death from a young age and may have felt like they never really were a child. They build the trust of others easily and its bc their honest. It is what it is to them. They are natural born leaders it doesn't take much convincing & they don't mind leading the way as long as you give them their accolades for it. Mind you they could have a god complex but to be fair if you've experienced or achieved the things they have you might too.

[jetpackgeneratedcat]

It took literal months, but I finished it!!

Top left: linked universe logo

The jojo's lu logo is sooooo detailed. It is one of the things I love about Jojo's asethetic with linked universe. The detail she adds brings so much life and information about the world of Linked Universe. Great example is all the embroidery on the chain's clothing. Let's you know about civilization, that an item may be magical, etc. It is difficult to keep small details in watercolor, but I think I caught most of the main details in the painting.

Middle left: Soulful legend

This was the fourth of the images I did for the painting, and the first image I really started to get into the painting. I think legend is my favorite to paint because he makes composition so easy. The red tunic adds an easy focal point. I did learn from this that I do not like masking fluid and likely won't use it again. It added to many hard edges that I wasn't intending. Very happy with the sky!

Bottom left: Evening snack

In this image, I liked the idea that wind and sky don't know what Ramen is because their worlds don't have enough space to produce wheat. So sky and wind are super excited about this new food, while legend has no idea why they are so hyped for noodles. I also liked the idea that four found a green pepper in the ramen as a topping and is a hater (this is from a note that jojo left somewhere saying that the chain will eat anything but four in the Manga does not like green peppers, idk where this note is to link it though....). I didn't end up drawing the Ramen noodles as it was just getting too small of a scale for me to be comfortable drawing the thin lines for the noodles in.

Bottom right: Testudo

I am very hyped in the future when we see more collaborative fighting with the chain and them working together effectively. I absolutely love the scene in shifting shadows part 3 where lenged and hyrule work together with the beam and hookshot.

Middle: Legends storage

This is a reference to one of jojo's earliest works where the chain goes to legends storage for him to pick up some gear. I love that scene and I tried to put as many references as I could. The one thing I need to figure out is how I want twilight to look. I can't wrap my head around it. Need to sit down and just try out a bunch of different faces for him. My Pinterest inspo for twilight is all over the place. I want twilight to look different from time because when Malon was trying to guess who was the descendent, she did not consider twilight (she looked at wars and wind (so I typically draw time, wind, and wars looking similar). For my own personal headcannon, twilight and time are very similar in their manner (the way the walk, stand, etc) and personality (their stubbornness (as seen in sunset pt3)) but not necessarily in looks.

Middle right: Boat boys

The first image I did. I like how the water turned out, but I will not be using masking fluid for the same reasons I noted earlier. I did trace the boat (i think this is the reference [L240632 Hornet Class. J. Arthur Dixon Ltd. Beken and Son]). I do regret not doing anything creative with the boat, but I just wanted to get into painting and needed some confidence by working directly from a reference. I also forgot that legend might not be so keen to be on a boat again based on a comment jojo left in 2022 or something. I think she mentioned something in a discord event back then about legend not too willing to be on a boat again. But that doesn't really matter, I put that boy in a boat whether he likes it or not lol.

Top right: Winter storm

Second image I did for this painting. I did trace most of the horse because I do not care to learn horse anatomy (ref. [Winter Save By David Stoecklein]) Favorite part about this is the lighting on the rope from the lantern. I think it turn out well.

Top middle: Heavy armour

Third image I did for the painting and the one I realized I need to spend more time painting people in neutral or back lite lighting. But for my first time I think it is good. I really want to see what jojo does with the armour sets! I like the idea that war's armour is clean and pristine while wild's armour is rusted and beaten from the calamity. In this painting I played with adding pink to the golden armour and I liked it. In the middle picture of the collage (legends storage), you can see i added pink to time's armour.

That's everything! ❤️

[t3a-tan]

Silent But Friendly

A what-if story about what would happen if Oliver met borrower James wayyyy before they actually did

---

They are in silence; though not the uncomfortable stuffy kind, rather a very peaceful quietness that surrounded the dinner table. His uncle worked late most weekends, and so that left Oliver and his aunt to eat alone on that Saturday afternoon.

It was macaroni and cheese tonight— one of Oliver's favourites. He even helped in the kitchen to chop the tomatoes and grate the cheese; aunt Charlie was 7 months pregnant after all and he wanted to do his best to help out.

As he finished his portion he placed his knife and fork together on the table before making eye contact with his aunt. She was eating slowly, mostly picking at the food. Her appetite seemed all over the place during the pregnancy; sometimes Oliver saw her eating lots of snacks, and other times he saw her throwing up from the tiniest bite.

He could see in her face that she was full, though she looked determined to finish the remaining bites. Catching his eye contact, she looked up and smiled tiredly. It was a warm and kind smile; like drinking a hot chocolate in front of the fireplace in the winter. Oliver soaked in that warmth whenever it was available, and right now was no different.

“Thanks for your help in the kitchen, love. It tastes brilliant.” She praised, before sighing as she finally set her fork down. She offered a sheepish grin in his direction. “I don't think I can fit any more... D’ja think you could go put the plates in the kitchen, poppet?”

A simple task really. Oliver didn't mind doing any of his chores or extra for his aunt and uncle— not after they had taken him in and been so kind to him. And sure, he missed his parents sometimes, but it felt much more gratifying to complete a task and receive praise rather than constantly fearing punishment as he had before.

Even if he looked at his mum wrong…he could just remember the look on her eyes. It was cold and distant; like being stranded out in a snowstorm, alone and lost. Resentful.

No…he much preferred living with his aunt and uncle, no matter how many times he woke up clutching his pillow and missing the way things used to be.

Oliver nodded silently, standing up and moving all the cutlery onto her plate before stacking her plate onto his own and lifting them both. He brought them closer to his centre so they'd be easier to carry and began walking towards the kitchen only to pause as his aunt spoke up again.

“Oh— and love? Just while you're up, d’ja think you could grab me a drink of water too?”

He turned back towards her, scanning her expression for a moment and seeing that once again there was nothing but geniality in her gaze. He offered a small smile in return and nodded again. She beamed, leaning on her hand as she looked up at him.

“You are a little sweetheart, you know that?” She praised once more. Oliver averted his eyes, though internally he was very pleased by the praise. He once again only nodded in return before entering the kitchen to go put the plates by the sink.

Next, he grabbed a glass from out of the cabinet and opened the tap, first testing it with his finger to make sure it was cold before holding the glass underneath. Once it was sufficiently full he turned the tap off and returned to the table, setting the glass down in front of his aunt.

She watched him enter with a fond gaze.

“Thanks, love.”

Picking up the glass she raised it to her lips and took a few sips before coughing. Oliver's expression turned to one of worry, his lips mouthing the question he wanted to ask although no sound came out. His hands moved too, signing alongside him.

‘Are you okay?’

She saw the gesture and waved a hand dismissively, nodding a few times, though she looked a bit pale still.

“I'm fine… I'm just gonna head to the bathroom, you stay down here, okay?” She stood up slowly, and Oliver could tell just by the slight winced in her expression that she was having a bout of nausea. He shuffled closer to help her up but she gently waved off his help.

“I'm okay, I promise. Why don't you get your comfies on and I'll come in to you later to read the next chapter of Magic Tree House, hm?”

Although more hesitantly than before, Oliver nodded slowly and watched as his aunt walked up the stairs. Once she had disappeared from view he glanced back towards the kitchen.

I don't think she'll be well enough to wash up… I can do it. I'll just leave things to dry since I can't reach the cupboards.

With that thought in mind he re-entered the kitchen and approached the sink, putting some dish liquid in the washing up bowl and starting to fill it up with warm water only to jolt when a sound caught his attention.

It was faint, he hardly heard it thanks to the sound of water on water, but he still heard it. A cry. Oliver turned the tap back off, glancing around and listening for it again.

Nothing.

As he looked around for any sign of what could have made the noise— or god knows it would bother him for the entire evening— he then noticed that the cylindrical tub of oats that sat beside the other cereal was…open. The lid wasn't off all the way, laying balanced and slightly ajar.

Oliver watched it silently for a few moments, wondering how exactly it had ended up that way. He had used the oats last when he ate porridge earlier in the week, so he knew that he had closed it once he was done using it. He even remembered looking at it this morning and never noticed anything off about the lid.

Unable to come up with a plausible theory, he sought to find answers as he approached the countertop the tub of oats was on, tilting his head ever so slightly.

Is it…a mouse..? Unafraid and full of curiosity his hands gripped the base of the tub and he tilted it towards himself to peer in through the opening, the lid clattering onto the counter as he did so. He expected just…oats. Maybe a mouse or a rat.

What he didn't expect was a pair of brown eyes staring up at him through a mop of messy long black hair. There, sprawled out and covered in oat dust, was a tiny boy.

Oliver stared silently— even if he wanted to speak he was at a loss for words, simply gazing down at the boy through his glasses, his mind blanching. He tilted the tub down more just so he could get a better look, listening to the little yelp that escaped the boy as more oats rolled over him.

The walls are much too high…he must have fallen in. He could be hurt.

With that in mind, Oliver smiled reassuringly, holding one of his hands out placatingly as a gesture of goodwill before using that same hand to reach into the tub, his vision now obscured as he blindly grabbed around for the tiny boy. He had held mice before— he imagined it was the same.

His fingers closed around a squirming form and he couldn't help but wince as they did— it was a weird feeling, to hold something so small that was undoubtedly alive. Once he was sure he was holding the boy securely he lifted his hand out of the tub and let it sit upright again as he brought the squirming rescuee to his eye level.

He realised that he had carried some oats with him and saw that the raven haired boy was still struggling away, kicking and fighting and losing energy by the second. Oliver noticed that one of his legs wasn't kicking very well, but it wasn't bleeding. He opened his mouth to ask, only for the words to catch in his throat again.

He knew he could speak, but he didn't like it. Whenever he did speak it was forced and he hated the way his voice made his head and ears feel. His aunt and uncle had promised him that he didn't need to force himself to speak and were teaching him British Sign Language…but he highly doubted this random boy knew it.

None of the kids at school did. None of the teachers. They all got frustrated with him and now Oliver made sure to keep to himself, as much as he wanted to raise his hand more.

Oliver lowered his hand slightly, offering another reassuring smile that was half a grimace at the same time. He waved slowly with his free hand, trying to get the boy to stop panicking so he could attempt communication.

As his other hand raised he caught how the tiny boy's gaze immediately focused on it, going stiff and staring up at him like he was a monster. Oliver didn't let that phase him; so long as he was able to communicate his intentions, he was sure they would calm down.

He kept a gentle smile on his face, moving slowly once he noticed how easily startled they were by his movements. He mouthed his question alongside his gestures, pointing at their leg and then tilting his head as he mouthed ‘is your leg hurt'?

They continued to stare owlishly up at him, trembling. Oliver's smile faltered slightly, concern in his eyes as he repeated the movements and mouthed his question again more emphatically.

“W-why aren't you talking..?”

The tiny boy's voice definitely held fear, but it was also slightly accusatory. Oliver was used to that second part— where people thought he was weird or creepy for not speaking. He was so used to it by now that it wasn't really upsetting, though it was hard to explain without words.

Oliver shrugged and mouthed ‘I don't like talking’. The boy squinted up at him, seemingly trying to figure out what he was trying to communicate.

“You…don't like talking? O-okay…” Oliver was surprised they didn't laugh or call him weird or just ignore him as many others did. That made him smile again as he repeated his previous gestures, still trying to ask about their leg.

“O-oh…my leg..? It's fine..! So…so you can just put me down and I'll go home, yeah?” Oliver heard the hint of uncertainty in their voice and he couldn't help but frown at the thought that they didn't think he would do that in the first place. He quickly realised that his frown could be taken the wrong way though and opted for a more neutral expression.

He lowered his hand again, this time so that it was flat against the counter, nodding his head in one direction as if he was shooing the boy off of his hand with his head alone. ‘Go on. I won't keep you’. He offered another smile for good measure.

The boy didn't move for a few moments, looking around at his fingers warily as if they would snap closed on him like a bear trap. Oliver simply held still, patiently waiting, despite his many questions.

Slowly they began to scoot towards the edge of his palm, and Oliver tried his best not to react to the ticklish sensation. He watched as they fully climbed off his hand and stood up before meeting his gaze again with trepidation.

“You…you're actually letting me go..?”

Oliver nodded, smiling again as he slowly moved his hand away and turned it back over so the palm was facing downwards. He placed his free hand over his heart to indicate sincerity.

They seemed to hesitate still, but took a cautious step back. As they put weight onto one of their ankles though they let out a hiss of pain, losing their balance as they suddenly pulled their weight off of that leg. Instinctively, Oliver's hand reached towards them, cupping as he caught them, looking down at them with concern.

‘You are hurt…’ He mouthed, although it was unreadable due to the way he was practically mumbling. Regardless, the boy wasn't looking at his mouth, instead they had wide eyes and were swivelling their head around to focus on Oliver's hand. He frowned worriedly, not wanting to scare them more than they clearly already were, but also not wanting to ignore someone who was injured.

He raised his other hand from the counter again and held out his palm, splaying his fingers out in a placating gesture and biting his lip when the boy flinched away from his hand’s shadow. He repeated the gesture again, trying to show that he meant no harm. All the while, his left hand remained cupped behind them, although it wasn't caging them in.

It took about five or six times of Oliver calmly repeating the same motion for the boy to calm down and notice that his fingers weren't closing in, and his right hand wasn't moving any closer. They looked up at Oliver, looking so small and vulnerable from this vantage point… I just want to help.

‘Your leg…’ He slowly pointed to the tiny leg again, then pointed towards himself, his hand instinctively flattening to sign help, only to remember his leading hand was currently cupped behind the boy. He rested his hand on the counter again instead.

‘I can help you.’ He mouthed. When the boy didn't seem to read his lips, Oliver simply repeated the most important word. ‘Help. I can help.’

There was a hint of understanding in the boy's gaze, but he was still clearly very frightened. Oliver tried to imagine seeing the world from his perspective, but it was hard to imagine…regardless, he thought he would be more curious when coming face to face with a giant unless he had reason to believe they meant him harm.

His green gaze danced around the counter in search of something else he could offer as a sign of good will. His gaze landed on the macaroni and cheese his aunt had left— and although it wasn't super hot anymore he could warm it up. Most of it was untouched after all, and he found the boy in the oats, so he was probably looking for food or something similar.

‘Wait.’ He held his hand out again, slowly moving his hand from behind the boy so that he was no longer supporting his weight. He then picked up his aunt's plate and walked to the microwave, covering it with a lid and putting it in for thirty seconds. He watched the timer go down, intending to stop it just before it would start beeping.

At one second he opened it, turning off the timer and pulling out the plate before carrying it back over to where he had left the boy. He was pleasantly surprised to see that they were still there, watching him with wariness…but also a hint of curiosity as Oliver set the plate down nearby.

Sliding it in the boy's direction he smiled, gesturing towards the plate.

“For…for me?” They asked, shocked by the offering of food. Oliver nodded. He watched as they limped closer to the plate and very nearly toppled over whilst climbing onto it. They crawled closer then sniffed at the food, before finally taking a piece of the warm macaroni into their hands.

Oliver winced at the mess but made no moves to stop the tiny boy, simply leaning on his hand as he watched the display.

They ate ravenously, making it clear how hungry they were as they only paused to announce how good it tasted; expressing shock over the fact that the food was warm. Eventually the boy grew full and he looked up at Oliver again, cheese covering his hands and face. Oliver couldn't help but let out a breathy chuckle, hushed and soft but no less amused.

The boy frowned up at him, little eyebrows contorted in frustration.

“H-hey! Nothing funny to see here..!” He protested. Oliver covered his mouth with his hand to stifle the laughter, cutting it off with a small cough as he was worried he might actually upset the tiny boy. That would be bad…he was trying to help him after all.

They continued to stare up at him, looking him up and down with a scrutinising chocolate brown gaze, seemingly debating something internally. Oliver was silent as usual, removing his hand that was covering his mouth and making his expression neutral again— though he couldn't hide the curious spark in his eyes.

“My name is James…” The boy murmured, but Oliver heard it.

He perked up, his hands already moving to spell his own name, mouthing ‘Oliver’ alongside it. His aunt and uncle just used the sign of an acorn as a nickname for him, but he didn't really introduce himself like that.

“Oliver…yeah I know.” James responded as if it was obvious, but Oliver tilted his head questioningly nonetheless.

‘You did?’

James hadn't read his lips but seemed to understand that he had let something slip he shouldn't have as he began to backtrack immediately, fear visible in his expression.

“I-I mean…it's not— I-I'm sorry…” He was back to trembling, shoulders hunched and posture stiff. Oliver's expression saddened and he leaned down slightly so he was more at eye level, offering a small reassuring smile and shaking his head lightly, hands gesturing alongside his lips moving.

‘It’s okay. It's okay. I'm not angry.’ He shook his head again to emphasise that fact. ‘You don't have to answer if you don't want to. I'll ask something else… like…’ He thought for a few moments before levelling with James again. ‘How old are you?’

There were a few beats of silence as the tiny boy continued to stay silent, but Oliver remained patient. Eventually he spoke up, albeit shakily.

“I-I'm um…I'm thirteen.” He answered, averting eye contact every now and then. Oliver knew that he was prone to staring or giving way too much eye contact so he looked away again for a moment, only looking back when he responded back.

‘I’m ten.’ He held up his hands, palms facing himself and fingers close together with his thumbs sticking out, before turning them around and splaying his fingers out. People usually understood the second gesture much more when Oliver tried to sign numbers.

“Ten?” The tiny boy clarified, and he nodded in turn. That seemed to make James perk up a bit himself, as if age was a matter of pride. “So…I-I'm older than you? You're just…so big. It’s weird…”

It's weird. Not I'm weird.

Oliver smiled.

‘I am big.’ He agreed, his hands continuing to sign as much as he knew his constant hand movements probably only confused James. Wanting to focus on more important matters again, Oliver pointed towards his leg. ‘Can I help fix your leg? It's hurt.’

“Oh, right… u-um… nothing is broken, I think I just landed weird. The pain is starting to go away a bit… But I can't stay out here— my dad’ll kill me if he catches me talking to you..!” He exclaimed, glancing around as if his dad might pop up from anywhere. Oliver couldn't help but glance around too, worry etching across his features.

‘Your dad would really do that? Is he mean to you?’ He signed quickly, his mind instantly flashing back to the many threats he had heard when he was younger from his own parents. Mostly his mother, but his father never stopped her.

James didn't seem able to read his lips that time thanks to how sporadic it was, but he could tell that Oliver was worried.

“N-not actually! I just…I'm exaggerating. He.. he will be worried about me, is all. He and my mum…” He corrected, confusion in his gaze as he looked up at him. Oliver let out a small sigh of relief and relaxed, calming down little by little.

An exaggeration. Right.

He nodded to show he understood, although he couldn't help the jittery feelings that remained buzzing under the surface, his hands withdrawing closer to his chest as he looked down at the tiny boy. ‘Okay… Do you want to clean yourself before you go, then?’

He reached over the counter and picked up a napkin before offering it forwards for James to use. The boy's face lit up in realisation and he glanced down at his cheese covered hands sheepishly before nodding and reaching out to take a corner.

“Thanks…” He spoke out as he wiped off his hands. He let go of the napkin and gave Oliver a confused look when he didn't withdraw. Letting out an amused exhale from his nose Oliver pointed at James then gestured to his face.

‘Your face is messy too.’

The boy's face went red with embarrassment and he took a clean part of the napkin to wipe the cheese from his face too. Once finished he let go again and held out his hands as if to say ta da, then shakily pushed himself to a stand.

At first it seemed like he might fall again, and Oliver's fingers twitched in anticipation…but it seemed the boy had been telling the truth that the injury was nothing serious and the pain was fading, as he was able to put more weight on it than before. Satisfied, he put the napkin in the bin before looking down at James again.

‘It was nice to meet you, James.’ He smiled, waving down at them. He waved back up at him, climbing off of the plate and walking backwards towards the…wall..? Oliver watched with confusion and interest, then awe as the tiny boy opened a hidden doorway into the wall. His eyes sparkled with wonder, although he only watched.

“I-it was nice to meet you too, surprisingly. Thanks again for not um..for not killing me.” The secret door then closed and left Oliver alone in the kitchen once more. He tilted his head, brows furrowing.

What an odd thing to say… Oh well. I hope his parents don't get angry at him because of me.

With that in mind, he stood up straight again and turned the tap back on to resume his washing up, playing the interaction in his head over and over again.

I hope we can be friends.

[reidsbabyhoney]

second chances | s.r.

the one where Spence regrets everything that’s happened in the past six months.

pairing: spencer reid x bau!reader category: angst, fluff cw: none wc: 3.3k a/n: this took forever too write because every time i tried writing it i absolutely hated how it came out. i’m hoping i gave them the ending they deserved and that you all love it! also please let me know if there's any warnings I should add.

pt.1 masterlist spencer reid masterlist

The entire car ride home was a blur, and you mean that literally. The tears that coated your eyes never seemed to stop even after you arrived back home. The dull hum of the engine couldn't seem to drown out the noise-deafening pounding in your chest.

You couldn't help but replay every moment from tonight on a loop, the gut wrenching realization that Spencer moved on so quickly, so easily. It felt as if your entire world had been tilted on its axis and you were left to live in a reality that didn't make any sense.

Maya. You hadn't been able to look at her without a sharp pang of jealousy making its way though your chest. The way she spoke to Spencer, so casually, so possessively like you were going to take her from him at any second. But in reality that's what she did to you.

You told yourself that you were fine, that you had enough time to move on and get over that relationship, but its clear you were lying to yourself. Every moment you were in his presence were the few moments of bliss where you could pretend everything with him was normal.

You had loved him. You still did. The harsh truth of that might've hurt worse than tonight's events.

Once you finally arrived home you didn't bother to go inside right away. Turning off the car you sit staring at the dashboard, trying to ground yourself in something, anything but the whirlwind of emotions going on in your mind right now.

As your about to open the door, your phone buzzes in the passenger seat. Picking it up you see it's a message from Penelope.

From: Penny

Are you okay, sweetheart? If you need anything I'm just a phone call away. Please don't let his stupidity ruin your night, we all know how much of an amazing person you are!

A small smile painted its way across your features, though drained and not very genuine.

You quickly texted her back letting her know you were okay and just needed some time to process everything. With that you finally got out of the car making your way inside, preparing for another sleepless night.

-

You had taken the day off. Well technically you didn't request it, it was given to you by Hotch. The team had just gotten back from a long gruesome case and he decided that everyone needed some time to decompress.

It had been a couple weeks since 'The Incident' as Emily has so kindly labeled it. Since then the unkind thoughts hadn't left your mind.

You spent most of the day curled up on the couch barely able to focus on the movies playing on the TV. Your mind was a storm of thoughts that blossomed from that night, though not into flowers, more so like weeds that didn't want to fully be pulled from the ground.

You replayed every word he said that night. Every glance, subtle expression. There was no warmth in his tone, nothing that suggested the gentle, awkward genius who had found solace in your presence.

You knew it hurt, but what hurt more was the realization that Spencer wasn't the only thing you lost that night. You were mourning the loss of what had been,  what could've been.

-

The next morning, you showed up at the office. The decision half-hearted, debating on requesting for another day out of the crowded space. You're not sure what you were expecting, for something to just change overnight, or if you needed to prove to yourself that you could handle it.

You walked in to see the team gathered around the bullpen. Derek was leaning against the counter, talking animatedly to JJ, while Penelope was chattering away in her usual high-energy manner. They all seemed fine, but you knew they could feel your emotions. You had always worn them on your sleeve, and the team was nothing if not perceptive.

And Spencer? He was nowhere to be found.

Your heart dropped, but you quickly masked the disappointment with a neutral expression. You couldn’t allow yourself to think about him right now, not with everything else going on.

As you slid into your chair, you could feel their eyes on you every now and then, but none of them dared to speak up. It was only when the elevator doors opened that you saw Spencer walking toward the bullpen. His usual awkward stride was missing, replaced by something… hesitant. His eyes briefly met yours, but instead of the usual spark of familiarity, there was something different. Something strained.

He was carrying a large coffee cup in his hand, but it seemed like he was just holding it for the sake of holding it.

“y/n,” he said softly, his voice laced with the same uncertainty that had been present in his eyes. You barely met his gaze, your stomach doing somersaults at the sight of him.

“Spence,” you said, offering a forced smile. You couldn’t help but feel a pang of longing, but you couldn’t let yourself show it.

“I, uh, can we talk?” he asked, his words tumbling out in that way that was so quintessentially Spencer.

Your gaze flickered around the room, but you didn’t want to make a scene. “Now’s not the best time.”

He nodded, but you could see the disappointment in his face. He hesitated for a moment before turning away and heading to his own desk. You didn’t watch him go, how could you?

-

Hours passed, and the tension between you and Spencer lingered like a heavy fog. Every now and then, you caught his eyes lingering on you when he thought you weren’t looking, but every time you met his gaze, he looked away.

You were exhausted. Your mind was scattered. And when you finally gathered the courage to step away from your desk to grab a coffee, it was then that Spencer decided to approach you.

“y/n,” he called out gently, his voice softer now, less urgent.

You paused mid-step, not sure how to respond. His presence was overwhelming, and even though you wanted to retreat, you knew you couldn’t keep avoiding him forever.

Turning around slowly, you nodded. “Spencer.”

“Can we talk?” he asked again, this time with more sincerity in his voice.

You studied him carefully, unsure whether you could trust yourself to keep calm. “Do we really need to? I think we’ve said everything we need to say.”

“No,” he replied, shaking his head. “I don’t think we have. At least not yet.” He paused, looking down at his feet. “Please.”

You could hear the desperation in his voice, and for the first time since that night, you allowed yourself to truly look at him. You didn’t know what had changed, but you knew it was something important. You had loved Spencer for so long, and maybe it was time to let him explain himself.

“Alright,” you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper. “Let’s talk.”

-

The conference room door clicked shut behind you, and for a brief moment, you felt like you were trapped. The silence was thick, oppressive. Spencer stood by the window, facing away from you, his shoulders tense, his hands hanging stiffly at his sides. He didn’t move, didn’t speak. The space between you felt impossibly wide, like an ocean stretching between two distant shores.

You wanted to scream. To demand answers. To ask why. But you couldn’t, because the truth was, you were too scared of what might come next. The flood of emotions coursing through you felt like too much to bear. And the pain? The pain was undying.

Finally, Spencer spoke, but his voice was soft, almost trembling. “I never meant to hurt you,” he said, his words breaking the stillness in the room, but they did little to ease the ache in your chest.

He turned slowly, his eyes dropping to the floor as if he couldn’t bear to look at you. “I’m so sorry. For the way I ended things... for pushing you away.”

His gaze finally met yours, but there was no spark there, no warmth. Just an empty, hollow ache, the same one you felt. The distance between you both was palpable.

“I thought I was doing the right thing,” he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. “I thought I was protecting you. I thought I was giving you space to breathe… to move on. To get away from the chaos that’s always been a part of my life.”

The words struck you like a punch to the gut. Protecting you? Was that what this was? Did he think he was being noble by choosing to shut you out?

“You pushed me away, Spencer,” you said, your voice trembling with the rawness of everything you were holding in. “I didn’t ask for space. I didn’t ask for you to shut me out. I was here… I've always been here.” The anger, the hurt, it all poured out of you, and you couldn’t stop it even if you tried. “I just needed you to be honest with me. To tell me the truth, not hide behind your fears.”

His face faltered at your words, and for a moment, he looked like he might crumble under the weight of your pain. “I was scared,” he admitted, his voice breaking as if he hadn’t even meant to say it. “I was scared that if I kept you close, I would ruin everything. That I’d hurt you more. I thought if I pulled away, you’d be better off without me. But all I’ve done is hurt you even more.”

The truth of his words hit you like a wave, but it didn’t bring relief. Instead, it left you feeling raw, exposed. How could he think that? How could he think leaving was the solution? You had been through so much together. But the thought of him choosing to walk away, of him choosing her, it crushed you.

“I don’t know if I can forgive you, Spencer,” you whispered, the tears you had been holding back threatening to spill over. Your heart was breaking, the weight of everything that had happened too much to carry anymore.

“You didn’t just break my heart… you broke me. I was waiting for you. I thought... I thought we could work through this. But you didn’t give me a chance. And now you’re asking me to just… what? To just forget?”

Spencer’s face crumpled as if your words were a physical blow, but he didn’t look away. He couldn’t. He was broken too, and for the first time, he looked vulnerable, scared even. “I don’t want you to forget,” he said, his voice shaking with emotion.

“I just want a chance. A chance to prove that I’m not that guy anymore. That I’m not the one who left you… that I’m the one who’s ready to fight for us.”

You shook your head, a sob escaping before you could stop it. “I don’t know if I can believe you anymore, Spencer. I don’t know if I can trust you after everything.”

He stepped forward, his hands trembling as they reached out toward you. “Please,” he whispered, desperation creeping into his voice. “I’ve spent every second of the last six months thinking about how much I screwed up, wishing I could go back and do things differently. I don’t want to lose you. I can’t lose you.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and you could feel your heart pounding in your chest, erratic, unsure whether it was breaking or yearning for something—anything that might bring you peace. You knew Spencer had made mistakes, but he wasn’t the only one at fault. You had kept yourself at a distance too, not because you wanted to, but because you were terrified of what this might mean. Of what letting him back in might cost you.

“I’m scared, Spencer,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I’m scared that if I let you back in, you’ll leave again. That you’ll hurt me again.”

He closed the distance between you, standing just inches away now. You could see the unshed tears in his eyes, the way his face was etched with guilt and regret. He reached for your hand, but instead of pulling away, you let him. You let him hold you, as fragile as it felt, as broken as you both were in that moment.

“I won’t leave again,” he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. “I swear. I’ll fight for you. For us. I’ll fight for as long as it takes.”

The raw honesty in his voice, his words full of pain, of hope. It made something inside you snap. The walls you had built around your heart were crumbling, piece by piece. You didn’t know if you could ever go back to the way things were, but maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for something new. Something better.

“I’m not asking for things to be perfect,” Spencer continued, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand, the small touch making your pulse race. “I just need you to know that I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere.”

You met his gaze then, your eyes brimming with unshed tears, but this time they weren’t just born from hurt. There was something else there. Something like hope. “I’m not ready to forgive you yet, Spencer,” you said softly, your voice trembling. “But I’m willing to try. I’m willing to see where this goes. If you really mean it.”

His face softened, the tension easing just a fraction. “I do,” he whispered, his hand still gently holding yours. “I mean it. More than anything.”

And as he pulled you into his arms, you let yourself hold on, just for a moment. You weren’t sure where this would lead, or if you could ever truly forget the pain. But for the first time in a long while, you weren’t alone. And maybe that was enough.

-

It was one of those quiet mornings that felt like a small slice of heaven. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting a soft glow through the windows, and the only sound in the apartment was the rhythmic hum of the coffee maker.

The air was still cool from the night before, but the warmth of the morning sun slowly crept in, filling the room with a gentle golden light.

You were sitting at the kitchen table, your bare feet tucked under you, a mug of coffee warming your hands. Your hair was messy from sleep, but you didn’t mind.

You had gotten used to waking up next to Spencer every morning, and the sight of him, still half-asleep, a little rumpled, and incredibly endearing, was one of the small things you’d grown to cherish.

Spencer was at the counter, his glasses perched on the tip of his nose as he flipped through a pile of paperwork. The clutter of his case files and textbooks was a normal part of your life now, but the way he had rearranged things over the past few months, more neatly than ever before, was a quiet testament to how much he had changed. He wasn’t perfect, but he was working on it. He was trying, and that was all that mattered.

“Y/n?” Spencer’s voice broke the quiet, pulling your attention away from your thoughts.

You looked up from your coffee, meeting his soft brown eyes. He was still wearing his sleep-filled smile, the one that only appeared after a good night’s sleep, when he wasn’t overthinking or buried under a pile of cases.

“I was wondering… would you mind helping me with something later?” His voice was tentative, but there was something else there now, something more confident. He wasn’t afraid to ask for help anymore.

You’d noticed that shift in him over the past few months, the way he wasn’t afraid to lean on you, to let you in when before he would have kept his distance. It had taken time, but now, when he needed you, he knew how to reach for you without hesitation.

“Of course,” you said with a smile, your heart swelling at how far you’d come since that difficult conversation. “What do you need help with?”

Spencer hesitated for just a moment, glancing down at the paperwork. His fingers hovered over the pile, as though unsure how to ask. “I’m working on this case… and I just need to go over the details. I know you’ve got that… special way of seeing things,” he said with a playful grin, using the affectionate nickname you’d earned after countless cases where your instincts had been spot on. “You’re better at spotting the details than I am.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, playfully teasing. “Oh, so now I’m the expert, huh? I thought you were the genius here.”

Spencer’s smile widened, and he shook his head, walking over to the table and taking a seat across from you. He didn’t even try to hide the fondness in his gaze as he looked at you. “You are the expert,” he said softly. “And I’m just the guy who gets to learn from you every day.”

The words lingered between you, warm and comfortable. You reached across the table, brushing your fingers over his hand in a simple, affectionate gesture. A small smile played on your lips as you felt his fingers intertwine with yours, and for the first time, you didn’t feel like you had to hold anything back. There was no fear of losing each other, no worry that the cracks would reopen. Everything—every single piece of you—had found a place next to him, and for once, it felt right.

“I’ll help you,” you said softly, squeezing his hand. “Just like I always do.”

Spencer’s expression softened, his eyes reflecting a quiet sense of gratitude. You knew, deep down, that he wasn’t just thankful for your help with the case. He was thankful for everything—for your patience, for your trust, for the fact that despite all the mistakes and misunderstandings, you were still here. You had come through the storm together, stronger than before, and you could feel it in every touch, in every glance. There was an unspoken understanding between you now. A promise that no matter what came your way, you would face it as a team.

“You know,” Spencer said, his voice low, “I never thought I’d have something like this. Something so... real. So comfortable.”

You laughed softly, the sound light and free, a stark contrast to the uncertainty that had plagued your earlier months together. “I think we’ve finally figured out how to make it work,” you said, your voice steady and full of warmth. “No more pushing each other away. No more running. Just… us.”

Spencer nodded, his gaze softening as his thumb gently traced the back of your hand. “I’m not running anymore,” he whispered, the sincerity in his voice bringing a warmth to your chest. “I’m staying. For good.”

There was no need for more words. You leaned across the table, your lips brushing his in a kiss that was slow and full of meaning. It wasn’t a kiss filled with urgency or desperation, but one of quiet comfort. One of trust and affection. One that said we’re here, and that was enough.

As you pulled away, you saw the same sense of contentment reflected in his eyes, a peacefulness that had taken months to build but was finally here. You didn’t need anything else, because with Spencer, you had everything you’d ever wanted.

The coffee and case files were long forgotten as the two of you sat there, simply enjoying each other’s company. There was no rush to get to the day, no lingering doubt or fear. Just the warmth of his presence beside you, and the certainty that no matter what the future held, you’d face it together.

all notes and reposts are appreciated!! loving you always xx

divider: @fairytopea

tags: @floralemi12 @laviatia-blog @reggieswriter @hazzarules @spencerreidsglasses @notarobotipromise @gghostwriter @taygrls @powerline-valley @october-baby25 @forevermorepassionate

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[cheoliedollie]

kiss attack! svt: reactions ♡

☆ ~ OT13

genre: boyfriends svt | sudden kisses | lots of kiss (cheek, nose, lips...)

note by marie: kiss, kiss, kiss ( might be grammar mistakes, srry for that :( ) ♡ as always, hope you guys like it!

s.coups ♡

~ For me, S. Coups would be a guy who gets scared at first, but not so much that he jumps, but rather closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, right after you give him a light kiss on the cheek. He'd put his arm around your shoulders and kiss you back...even harder. To him, you were the most beautiful and precious thing in the world.

jeonghan ♡

~ Jeonghan would tease you until he got something out of you and would wait anxiously for you to freak out and come running to him. But as soon as you, out of the blue, started kissing the top of his head every time he started making a scene, he really understood when his colleagues say they “melt” when their partners kiss them out of the blue.

joshua ♡

~ If you want to be surprised, dating Joshua is the way to go. He knows how to cheer you up even down to the smallest detail and you wanted to do the same for him. So, while watching a movie on TV, you decided to attack him with kisses. At first, Joshua was startled, but once he understood what was happening, he just laughed with you and returned the kisses.

jun ♡

~ Jun was the definition of cuteness, and that was a fact. But it was the boy who always initiated kisses and physical touches, but when you did, after a fit of cuteness generated by him following a computer game, Jun could only laugh and tell all the boys how amazing his girlfriend was.

hoshi ♡

~ Staying at Hoshi's parents' house limited contact between the two of you, even more so because even though you were adults and had been dating for years, his parents put you up in his older sister's room. But nothing stopped you from surprising the boy in his room in the middle of the night, just for a quick “goodnight” kiss and then leaving right after. That certainly left the boy with red cheeks and smiling all the way to sleep.

wonwoo ♡

~ The time Wonwoo spent in the games room was much longer than the time you spent together… almost every time. It didn't really bother you, after all, your boyfriend needed a break from his exhausting schedule. So every 20 minutes, or whenever you felt it was time, you'd run into the room where the man was and leave a kiss on his shoulder. It was a simple thing, no big deal… but when you left the room, Wonwoo would caress the spot and smile as he did.

woozi ♡

~ Woozi spent most of his time in the studio and you proudly accompanied him every day, listening to the songs and even giving him suggestions. And if you think that the moments of affection and love are left out… you're wrong! Whenever he could, Woozi would take a step away from the computer, pat his lap three times and ask you to sit there. You did it with pleasure, wrapping your arms around his neck, kissing him and rubbing your nose against his. For Woozi, this was his favorite part of the day.

dk ♡

~ Dokyeom would scream to be honest. After the little kiss on the forehead while he was reading, he'd look at you, with those sparkling eyes of his, and smile big, asking for more of where that's coming from. Asking for more kisses, hugs, cuddles… asking for everything he should receive. And if you don't… get ready for another Lee Seokmin rambling session.

mingyu ♡

~ Cooking and giving back hugs is a MUST in a relationship with Mingyu! But imagine that specific scene with me...You and Mingu, together in the kitchen, preparing the breakfast after one incredible night together. Your arms involve his waist and suddenly your lips touch his back. He would be SO shocked. Would turn immediately back and try to kiss you back, eventually forgetting about the food on the stove...

the8 ♡

~ The8 wouldn't be the type for too much pda but I think he would be one of the guys who likes sudden kisses the most! Just imagine his little smile after a sudden kiss while he is meditating in the living room. He would try not to show but he is internally screaming.

seungkwan ♡

~ Yk that video of Seungkwan trying to bite/kiss Hoshi? He would try to do that often to you and would get upset when you don't reciprocate it. But one day, he came back after a long tour you attacked him with kisses, love bites, and tight hugs. He fr became the happiest man in the whole world, even got surprised at first, but wouldn't stop talking about it after.

vernon ♡

~ "Wth are u doing babe?" Vernon would be like that at first...but when you say that you're trying to do a TikTok challenge like "kissing your boyfriend and see what happens" he would melt and be like "yes I'm your boyfriend pls do that to me whenever you want"

dino ♡

~ He would find it so cute when you guys are at home. You know that cozy vibes? He laughs as you shower him with kisses and of course, gives you triple back. But please, don't do that in front of Dino's friends. The way they would tease him for the rest of the week, month, even the year...the poor boy won't have peace.

[bibliophilesince2003]

The Bad Batch

Here's a little theory for you to mull over; I sincerely wonder whether I am alone in thinking this. I could also be heavily exhausted over and influenced by the papers I had to polish off for some of my college courses, or perhaps motivated by the fact that I am re-watching The Bad Batch because most modern shows these days, in my opinion, disappoint. At any rate, here it is.

Why do we like the Bad Batch so much? What makes them relatable and/or realistic?

Upon meeting Omega, most of the Bad Batch behave in a very dad-like manner. This is not surprising, no. Plenty of memes and incorrect quotes have stemmed from this simple observation. They don't have all the answers and they don't know what to do with Omega half the time. That's the thing about dads... usually, they're just "winging it" and trying to do their best. Moms come with a built-in instinct to nurture. Dads come with a built-in instinct to protect and lead. Sometimes, dads aren't quite sure what to do with a crying infant or a struggling teenager.

Let's not forget... Hunter and the others are soldiers. That isn't to say they can't be kind or gentle; even the toughest men have their weak points. As a military brat, though, I have noticed that such a profession can mold a man, and at times they forget to "turn off" their seriousness when at home after having dealt with extremely hard situations. I really appreciate that the producers of this show didn't change Hunter and the others just to make them more approachable from Omega's standpoint. If they do change, it's gradual.

Do Hunter and the others think about the consequences of bringing Omega into their lives? *eyeballs toothpick man* With exceptions, of course. Well, until season three. The answer? Absolutely not. They believe they have the strength and ability to keep her safe, as most dads would. They believe they will always have that strength and ability. Let me break it down for you and give you a look into the brain of a dad:

Dad: *involved in a dangerous situation*

Dad: I can do that.

Dad: *remembers their child is with them*

Dad: Oh. Well, I guess becomes a life lesson. I've got you, kid. Just... don't tell your mom.

Dad: *keeps an eye out for anything suspicious*

Kid: *perfectly content*

I've heard it said that dads don't say "I love you" but show they love you. I personally have experienced both, but given the seriousness of most dads... I can see how that would be the case. At the very least, their actions speak louder than words. The Bad Batch are very much this way towards Omega. They put their lives on the line. They want to make her happy. Wrecker assembles a spot for Omega to call her own on the Marauder. Tech grabs her before an explosion can reach them. Echo has hugged Omega the most. Hunter is usually within three feet of Omega at all times.

The subtle gestures of kindness captivated all our hearts, I know.

Why?

It's Star Wars, a fictional universe. It's not complete fiction, though. Hunter and the others represent a specific kind of love. Fathers may be cautious and unsure at first, but eventually they want the kid by their side for everything. We've all seen the videos of dads using infants as pretend machine guns or making them dance, the kid's neck rolling lazily. Gently, of course. If they can't protect the kid from everything, they use themselves as a shield, which extends to good mothers, too, though that's not what this post is about.

Hunter and the others may be soldiers, but they embody the very spirit of fatherhood. This was such a wonderful theme to see develop despite the grittiness and action.

Phew, I feel like there was more I wanted to say, but I'm tired, so you're spared from more rambling.

[idkyetxoxo]

Seven | Enchanted | Aemond Targaryen

Word count - 3420

Warnings - None

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"We hear there is to be a festival tonight," Viserys said, breaking the silence over dinner. The question, though innocuous enough, hung heavily in the air, sending a ripple through the room. 

All eyes turned toward me and Nymor as if waiting for some grand revelation.

I glanced at my brother, our shared look speaking volumes more than words could manage—neither of us remotely entertained by the idea.

"Yes, there is," my father replied with the smoothness of a seasoned courtier, though even he couldn't mask the tension tugging at the edges of his forced smile. 

"I am sure my children will be more than happy to explain it to you," he added, his gaze shifting expectantly in our direction as if we were about to jump in and rescue him from the conversation.

A smirk tugged at my lips as I pushed my plate away, raising a brow at his assumption. "Not really," I said dryly, shrugging with a careless air that only heightened the discomfort.

Nymor, ever my accomplice, snorted beside me, his failed attempt to stifle laughter only adding fuel to the simmering fire. 

Across the table, Aegon barely managed to muffle his own laugh, though Alicent's sharp glare could have silenced even the boldest spirit. 

She didn't appreciate my defiance, her lips pursed with disapproval as she shot me a look that demanded obedience I had no intention of giving.

But it was Helaena who, as always, cut through the tension with her innocent enthusiasm.

"A festival sounds lovely! What is it called?" she asked, leaning forward with bright-eyed curiosity that seemed almost out of place in the undercurrent of the conversation. 

Alicent, ever the vigilant mother, reached out, pulling her back gently as if to shield her from engaging too much with the likes of us.

I took that moment, savouring it, and met Alicent's gaze with a sly glint in my eye. 

"It's called Lustre," I said, my voice dripping with honeyed sweetness. "It takes place on the longest night of the year. The theme, fittingly, is light overcoming the darkness." 

I let the words hang in the air, knowing full well how my not-so-subtle barb would needle her.

Viserys, blissfully oblivious to the subtle war waging across the table, clapped his hands together with genuine enthusiasm. "That sounds most exciting!"

My father, ever the diplomat, seized the moment to maintain appearances. 

"My children would be delighted to bring the princes and princess along to celebrate tonight," he declared, casting a hopeful glance between Nymor and me as if that suggestion alone could smooth over all the prickling tension.

But Nymor, always the sharp-tongued one, wasn't about to let it slide so easily. He leaned back in his chair, raising an eyebrow, his voice laced with sarcasm. "Everyone knows that's a lie."

Aegon, unable to hold it in any longer, practically choked on his drink, his laughter barely muffled as it slipped out. 

Even Helaena looked confused, her brow furrowed as she tried to make sense of the veiled remarks.

Alicent, on the other hand, was less amused. She gripped her goblet tightly, her knuckles white, her irritation palpable.

I couldn't resist. 

"Nymor's right," I said, my tone light but my words deliberate. "We'll be there, but 'happy to bring them along' might be pushing it."

I shot a glance at Aegon, who was still struggling to keep his composure. "Besides, I'm not sure they'd survive a real festival with us."

Nymor leaned in with a mischievous glint in his eye. "Oh, I'm sure they'd be fine... if they don't mind a little chaos."

Viserys chuckled, the sound hearty but disconnected from the simmering battle beneath the surface. 

Meanwhile, Alicent's patience, already stretched thin, snapped. Her voice, sharp as a blade, cut through the air. 

"Chaos?" she repeated, her eyes narrowing dangerously. "I'm sure the royal family would prefer some decorum."

Nymor, unfazed as always, scoffed lightly. "Decorum? At Lustre?" His tone was incredulous. "Good luck finding any of that."

Alicent's glare could have turned stone to dust, but I didn't back down. If anything, her growing frustration only fueled my amusement. 

"Perhaps the queen would prefer something a little less... lively?" I suggested, my smirk widening as I toyed with the thin line of respectability.

Aegon, ever the instigator, seized the moment. "Come now, Mother. A bit of fun never hurt anyone," he said, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he exchanged a glance with Nymor and me. "Besides, it's not every day we get invited to something this exciting."

"Exciting is one word for it," Nymor chimed in, his playful gaze settling on me. "Survival is another."

Viserys, ever the peacekeeper, laughed again, waving his hand dismissively. "Well, it sounds like quite the celebration. I'm sure it will be a night to remember."

I exchanged one final look with Nymor, both of us barely able to contain our amusement. The unspoken camaraderie between us was clear—this was far from over.

My father, determined as ever to hold the illusion of diplomacy, nodded curtly, his face the picture of forced calm, though even he had to know that the night ahead was bound to be anything but ordinary.

─── ✦⋅♡⋅✦ ───

Later, in the quiet intimacy of my chambers, the energy felt lighter, more relaxed, as the festival preparations took hold. The soft glow of candlelight bathed the room in a warm, flickering radiance, making the gold accents in the tapestries shimmer. 

I moved about with ease, sliding delicate jewels into my hair as the weight of the evening lifted from my shoulders. Helaena sat nearby, her wide eyes following my every move, curiosity and a hint of longing radiating from her as I readied myself for the night ahead.

"What shall I wear?" she asked softly, her voice laced with eagerness. 

She sounded like a little girl again, yearning to be part of something bigger, something dazzling. Her gaze was fixed on me, watching intently as I slipped the last jewel into place.

I smiled, catching her reflection in the mirror. "You can wear one of my dresses," I suggested, turning to her as I untied the ribbon of my robe, letting it fall gracefully from my shoulders. 

The silvery gown I reached for shimmered like moonlight itself, its fabric cool and flowing as it slid over my skin.

Helaena bit her lip, hesitation flickering in her eyes. "I do not think my mother will like that," she whispered, her voice a fragile thread of doubt.

I let out a soft, knowing laugh, the sound rich with amusement. Alicent's constant disapproval of me was practically a given at this point. 

"She doesn't have to know," I said with a playful wink, adjusting the dress as it draped over my figure. 

The star sequins sewn into the sheer fabric caught the candlelight, sending a cascade of shimmering reflections across the room with each movement.

Helaena's breath caught as she gazed at me, her eyes wide with awe. "You look absolutely stunning," she breathed, her voice full of wonder.

I twirled lightly, the hem of my gown brushing against the floor like liquid stardust, every step making it gleam as though it were woven from the very essence of the night sky.

"Like the moon itself," she added, her smile growing, a hint of something brighter—perhaps envy or admiration—flickering across her features.

I laughed softly, genuinely touched. "Thank you, Helaena," I said, my voice warmer now. There was something so pure about her, so untouched by the darker undercurrents of the court.

I turned and held up a golden gown from my wardrobe, its rich fabric shimmering with regal elegance. 

"Here," I said, offering it to her. "Wear this. It suits you, and no one needs to know." 

My eyes twinkled with mischief as I handed her the gown, a silent promise that we were in this together, no matter what Alicent might think.

Helaena hesitated, her gaze darting to the door as if expecting her mother to barge in at any moment. But after a brief pause, she smiled—small, tentative, but real—and took the dress from my hands. 

The silk whispered as it slid over her frame, the golden fabric wrapping her in warmth and splendour.

I stepped back, watching as she adjusted the folds of the gown. Her cheeks flushed with a soft blush as she smoothed the delicate material, uncertainty giving way to a shy pride.

"So pretty," I remarked with a grin, my voice teasing but full of affection.

Helaena blushed deeper, turning slightly in the mirror, admiring herself. "Like the sun itself," I added, echoing her earlier compliment. 

The words made her giggle, the last of her tension melting away as she twirled in the golden gown, her smile now bright and carefree.

I stepped closer, looping my arm through hers, our bond in that moment unspoken but strong. "Come," I urged softly, giving her arm a light squeeze. "The boys will be waiting for us."

As we made our way down the palace corridors, Alaric, my ever-loyal guard, followed at a discreet distance. His dark eyes lingered on me for a moment longer than necessary, a teasing glimmer playing in their depths. 

I felt his gaze like a whisper against my skin, warm and slightly provocative.

"You'll outshine the festival itself tonight," he said, his voice low and smooth, laced with a subtle edge of flirtation that made my heart skip for just a moment. 

His smile was the kind that held promises of mischief, and I couldn't help but return it with a sly grin of my own.

"Careful," I teased lightly, casting him a glance over my shoulder. "You're supposed to guard me, not flatter me."

He chuckled softly, his gaze never leaving mine. "I can do both," he replied smoothly, his tone as easy as the confidence in his stance.

Helaena caught the playful exchange and shot me a look—half amused, half curious. 

She had seen the way Alaric's gaze lingered, but I brushed it off with a light laugh, not wanting to delve into whatever thoughts might be swirling in her head.

We continued through the halls, winding our way through, careful to avoid any run-ins with Alicent. The last thing either of us needed was a confrontation with the queen tonight. 

We slipped into the waiting carriage, the night wrapping around us like a velvet cloak, its darkness offering the perfect cover as we left the palace behind. 

Relief washed over me as I settled onto the plush seat, grateful we had avoided detection for Helaena's sake. 

The festival awaited us, and with it, a night of freedom—of light and shadow, chaos and revelry.

Beside me, Nymor shifted closer, the heat of his presence a comforting contrast to the cool air outside. He leaned in, his lips brushing softly against my cheek in a tender gesture.

"So beautiful," he whispered, his voice barely above a murmur, but it carried the weight of sincerity. 

I smiled, allowing myself a brief moment to bask in the warmth of his gaze, the gentle affection that always lingered just beneath his teasing exterior. But the moment didn't last long. 

Across from us, Aegon's reaction stole my attention.

His eyes widened as Helaena, shy but radiant, climbed into the carriage beside him. The transformation was undeniable. 

Gone was the quiet, unassuming girl—now, she was gilded in gold, her dress catching the dim light, making her look ethereal, otherworldly even. Aegon, for once, was at a loss for words.

"Gods," he muttered under his breath, his usual smirk replaced by something far more genuine—astonishment.

Helaena, still unsure of her newfound allure, glanced down nervously at the golden folds of her dress, her fingers twitching as she adjusted the fabric. She looked up, eyes wide with hope.

"Do you like it?" Her voice was small, hesitant, as though she feared the answer.

Aegon's gaze never wavered from her, his usual flippancy replaced by something softer, almost reverent. "Yes," he said simply, but the single word hung in the air, heavy with admiration.

Her face lit up, a smile blooming slowly across her lips as she turned to me, eyes shining with gratitude. 

No words were needed between us; her expression said everything—a silent thank you, not just for the dress, but for the confidence it gave her.

My gaze drifted then, as though pulled by a magnetic force, to Aemond. 

He had been watching me from the moment I stepped into the carriage. His singular eye, sharp and focused, followed my every move with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine.

His stare was unwavering, piercing through the darkness that separated us, his face betraying little, yet his attention spoke volumes. 

I felt the familiar flutter in my chest—unbidden, but undeniable. 

He had a way of looking at me that always made me feel as though I were the only one in the room, as though the entire world had fallen away, leaving just the two of us.

But I refused to be swept away by the moment. Keeping my composure, I offered him a small, controlled smile, a silent acknowledgement of his gaze. 

His lips curled ever so slightly in response, his usually cool demeanour softening, if only for a fleeting moment. 

There was something almost vulnerable in his expression, a crack in the icy exterior he always wore so well.

Still, I couldn't linger in that feeling. Not tonight. I turned my attention back to Nymor, seeking the comfort of his easy banter, the lightness that always seemed to come naturally between us.

"We're starting with drinks," I announced, my voice bright with excitement as I leaned into him slightly. "And then the dancing, of course."

Nymor's lips quirked into a knowing smirk, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Ah, the dancing. I hope you're ready for the chaos."

I laughed, the sound bubbling up from deep within me, infectious and free. "Always."

The carriage rolled forward, the rhythmic clatter of wheels over cobblestones a steady reminder that we were moving closer to the heart of the night's festivities.  

The unspoken connections between us all—tangled, complex, and ever-shifting—only added to the tension.

Aegon sat back, his gaze still flitting over Helaena in disbelief, while she, now more at ease, giggled softly to herself. 

Aemond remained quiet, his eye still fixed on me, though now he wore a faint, almost imperceptible smile. 

And Nymor, ever the rogue, was already plotting our inevitable mischief for the night.

Outside, the darkened streets blurred past us, the faint glow of festival lights growing brighter with every passing moment. Soon, the quiet hum of the city would give way to the sounds of revelry—the laughter, the music, the chaos of Lustre.

Tonight would be a night to remember, for better or for worse.

The carriage slowed to a stop just a street away from the festival, its wheels creaking to a halt as if acknowledging the excitement that pulsed through the air. 

This was our tradition—Nymor and I slipping away before the crowds could spot us, savouring those few moments of quiet before diving headfirst into the chaos. 

As the door swung open, Nymor stepped out first, turning back to offer me his hand, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

I accepted with a grin, stepping down into the cool night air. 

Together, we stood for a moment, taking in the sight of the festival before us. Though it happened every year, it never failed to enchant. 

The streets, strung with golden lights, flickered like stars caught in mid-air, while colourful banners swayed in the breeze.

Music spilt into every corner, the sound of laughter and song mingling in a harmonious hum that filled the night.

"It's like magic," I whispered, though the words barely did it justice.

Nymor nodded, his gaze warm as he took in the scene. "It's more beautiful every year," he said, but his eyes flicked back to me, his meaning clear.

I smirked, but before I could respond, the rest of the Targaryens joined us. As Aegon stepped out, he froze, his eyes wide with awe at the vibrant display before him.

"Gods," he muttered, momentarily dumbfounded. Even Helaena, who had been so shy earlier, seemed to bloom in the festive atmosphere. 

My attention shifted to Aemond. He hadn't said a word since we arrived, but his eye hadn't left me. 

There was something unreadable in his stare—an intensity that made my heart skip a beat, though I wouldn't let him see that. 

Instead, I met his gaze head-on, letting a slow, teasing smile spread across my lips. I knew how to play this game, and I played it well.

"Hurry up!" I called back, breaking the spell as I grabbed Nymor's hand and pulled him toward the square, eager to lose ourselves in the sea of revelry. 

My laughter echoed through the air as we darted past dancers, vendors, and brightly coloured stalls, my pulse quickening with the thrill of it all.

We skidded to a stop in front of a drinks stall, the smell of spiced fruit and honey filling the air. 

"Five, please!" I called to the vendor, flashing him a cheeky grin. 

Nymor fished out a few coins, handing them over as the vendor poured five drinks into small cups. The liquid shimmered in the lantern light, pink and inviting.

Aegon eyed his cup suspiciously, lifting it to his nose with a raised eyebrow. "Is this wine?" he asked, dubious.

I laughed, taking a long sip from my own cup before answering. "No, but it's better." The sweetness of the drink coated my tongue, refreshing and potent. 

"Look, we'll drink first if you're scared." I winked, and without waiting, I downed the rest of mine in one gulp, the heat of the alcohol spreading through me like fire.

Nymor followed suit, grinning as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "See? No tricks."

Aemond still hesitated, his eye narrowing slightly as he glanced between the cup and me. I rolled my eyes, stepping closer to him until we were nearly nose to nose. 

"You really don't trust me?" I teased, my voice low and playful as I lifted his cup to his lips. "Drink."

For a second, Aemond's expression didn't change, but the challenge in my eyes must have gotten to him, because he relented, taking a slow sip. 

His face softened, a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "It's... good."

"Told you," I smirked, satisfied as I turned to Helaena, who was already sipping hers, a look of pure delight on her face.

"Come!" I said impulsively, grabbing her arm and pulling her toward the square, where the crowd was already lost in the rhythm of the music. "Let's dance!"

Helaena laughed, her hesitation melting away as she twirled with me beneath the glow of lanterns. 

The music was infectious, the beat thrumming in my veins as I let go of everything—my worries, the royal eyes watching me, the tension that sometimes clung to the edges of my life. 

All that mattered now was the thrill of the festival, the joy bubbling up from within me as I laughed and spun with reckless abandon.

From the sidelines, Aegon chuckled, his gaze flicking to Nymor. "Is she always like this during festivals?"

Nymor grinned, leaning back against a post as he watched me with obvious amusement. "Lustre brings out her best. Enjoy it while it lasts—she's probably being nicer to you than she ever will."

Aegon barked a laugh, but his attention quickly wandered to a group of dancers nearby, while Nymor was soon swept into a conversation with a woman who had approached him.

Aemond, though, didn't move. His eye followed my every step, every laugh as if he couldn't tear himself away. 

I could feel him watching me, even as I twirled and dipped with Helaena, my joy infectious.

Aegon, noticing Aemond's stare, smirked as he clapped him on the back. "Throw a festival every now and then, brother, and you might keep your bride this happy." 

His tone was teasing, but Aemond wasn't amused. His gaze remained fixed on me, the intensity in his expression unmistakable.

I could feel the weight of it, even from across the square. Our eyes met, and for a heartbeat, everything else faded away. 

The crowd, the music, the lights—all of it melted into the background. It was just us. 

I gave him a small, knowing smile, one that promised much and revealed little, and he returned it, the tension in his face softening ever so slightly.

But the moment passed, and I was pulled back into the dance, the swirl of the festival sweeping me away. 

Yet even as I laughed and spun beneath the glow of the festival lights, I could feel Aemond's gaze lingering, a silent promise that this night—this feeling—was only the beginning.

A/n - My very small attempt at tryna give Helaena some much needed peace in some form x

Enchanted tag list - @mamawiggers1980 @shilphy87 @esposadomd @targaryendestiel @deepeststarlightmoon

@thebirdandthebee @queen-of-elves @believeinthefireflies95

[authoratmidnight]

Unfortunately I have robots on the brain + a love for a good heel face turn.

So fuck it, Knock Out/Break Down defection.

It starts with Breakdown getting abducted by M.E.C.H. and Megatron writing him off as dead/not worth saving. After all, he let *humans8 get the drop on him, whatever happens is his own fault.

Knock Out is appalled and rightly so. They're just, gonna abandon one of their own? He's not a flier tho so going to rescue Breakdown himself is not going to be fast.

Which means that when the Autobots end up rescuing him, there is no Decepticons to show up. No one ever arrives to save him. Only his enemies.

And by the time Knock Out *does* show up, there's no one there. No Breakdown, no Autobots, no M.E.C.H. and he has to return dejected and empty handed. And worse, no one seems to care. (this also means he has no idea of Breakdown's fate, is he alive? dead?)

So they drag him back to the base so Ratchet can patch him up cause he is in rough shape mind you. And it is just, weird all around.

On the Autobots' side of things is the glaring fact that there is a Decepticon in their base. He's not trying to kill them but like, he IS there. It's so weird.

On Breakdown's side it's the fact that his enemy is helping him, providing him aid. That his enemy seems to care more about him than his own comrades. And of course, watching how they interact with each other, with Optimus is eye opening. The differences between them is startling.

The rest of the Autobots do respect Optimus but they don't live in fear of him, not how they do around Megatron. He's not scary, he doesn't yell lose his temper at them, he doesn't strike them and break things. He's, nice.

And while they banter with each other and sometimes argue, it's never mean spirited or cruel.

He stays there for a bit to recover and he starts to wonder, what he should do? He can't possibly go back to the Decepticons, they'd never take him back, especially after this. But, it's clearly not safe to be out on his own given that M.E.C.H. is out there and what they did to him.

So he does the almost unthinkable. Asks if he would be allowed to stay with them for now. Just while he decides what he wants to do. If he has to stay in the base then he will. They decide to allow it because well, he hasn't really done anything to them thus far.

Trying to interact with them is so awkward though, and he spends most of his time doing essentially grunt work around the base. The first one to speak to him and extend a hand is Bulkhead. They are rivals after all and Bulkhead is the only one he has a prior history with. It's so weird not trying to punch each other out, even if Bulkhead says they can go for another round at a later time and he will kick his tailpipe.

(the whole time Knock Out is moping and feeling disheartened cause he just wants his guy back)

Eventually, the Autobots do sort of warm up to Breakdown. When he's not punching them out he's not really so bad.

At some point, he goes out on a mission with Bulkhead (listen, he's recovered and he can't stay inside all the time, he's going stir crazy, and if anyone can handle him it's Bulkhead). And leaving the shielded protection of the base alerts the Decepticons that he is alive, cause they have his life signal again.

And Knock Out is not taking no for an answer on going to find him. He'll piggy back on Starscream or the Seekers if he must.

Cue a VERY dramatic meeting of Knock Out and Breakdown, made all the more tense and dramatic given that he's in the company of an Autobot and NOT trying to fight him. Naturally, Knock Out tries to convince him to go back, and it IS tempting, if only cause going back means Knock Out is there. But he can't exactly guarantee that Breakdown won't be punished for, all this, so he has to decline.

Insert a moment of him really showing which side he's on (perhaps not even consciously) when he protects Bulkhead from another Vehicon or something. Bulkhead is shook cause a part of him was expecting Breakdown to go with Knock Out. this doe sin fact help endear him a bit more to the Autobots.

But now, Knock Out knows that Breakdown is alive. And by the Allspark he WILL be reunited with his partner one way or another. Of course, he can't contact him, he's shielded by the autobot base. But he does leave it from time to time, and then he can pick up his signal. Ofc he keeps this a secret b/c once it came to light that Breakdown was siding with the autobots he was marked as a traitor. No one talks about him anymore, and they certainly aren't gonna try and bring him back.

He absolutely is plotting ways to get out and meet with him/contact him, to at the very least just talk with him. And eventually somehow he does. Catches Breakdown when he's out alone (or at least, the bot he went out with is not in the immediate vicinity to be seen). And it's tense and emotional. Cause Breakdown is still deeply hurt that no one but his (former) enemies came to save him. Makes a bot think. Knock Out swears he did try to come, he was the only one that wanted to.

The conversation is interrupted when whichever Autobot was with him comes back and Knock Out books it. Even if he wanted to leave with Breakdown, there's some thing he needs to take care of on The Nemesis (basically purging any files regarding either of them/deleting them from the database so they can't be tracked anymore).

Which he does do and has to beat one hell of a hasty retreat when Soundwave catches on and alerts the others as to what he's doing. This is effectively his point of no return. He ground bridges out, with Cons on his tail. And calls to Breakdown for a rescue (I'm thinking, before they parted on their last meeting he gave him some kind of communicator or something).

Breakdown is quite surprised when he does get a distress call from Knock Out, who is currently running for his damn life cause if they catch him they will kill him. And frankly he does like living.

Breakdown DOES end up going to get him, by plugging the coordinates he got into the ground bridge and bridging out (he's watched Ratchet AND Knock Out do this, he knows how to do it). Which also means the Autobots are chasing after him cause dude what the hell??

They do manage to find Knock Out, still running for his life. And Breakdown is gonna bring him back even if they complain (also he may or may not be wounded, I haven't decided yet, tho wounded would be some fun :p)

So now the Autobots have TWO Decepticons in their base and boy is it weird. Also now they gotta explain this to Optimus (who more just wants to know why Breakdown went behind his back, you could have asked bro. (Better to beg for forgiveness than ask permission I suppose).

Also explaining this to the humans. Breakdown was one thing but Knock Out? oof.

(Knock Out has some second thought upon meeting the humans b/c oh NO they're everywhere and gonna get their grimey weird hands all over him and yes ok he knows his alt mode is sick as hell but NO they can't go for a spin in him! Someone help!)

It would, imo, be a really funny dynamic. Also Knock Out has dirt on the Cons I'm sure. He is a petty bitch

(The second amusing option I had for getting Knock Out there was finding him while out on a mission, maybe after he sneakily purged what needed to be purged, and he just goes 'well, if I'm not being invited back, I guess you'll have to take me prisoner?' and Breakdown just rolls his eyes and "apprehends" him and brings him back. Literally no one is buying this at all lol)

Part fix it fic, part heel face turn, all totally shameless KOBD lol

[weirdmultishipper]

Unpopular opinion(?): Deruth Henituse

Let's all face it: Deuth wasn't a bad father to Og!Cale. He was millions of times better than a lot of fictional fathers and I wholeheartedly agree with that. ദ്ദി（• ˕ •マ.ᐟ

Unpopular opinion: That's doesn't mean I have to like him. (¬⤙¬ )

And I'm all for different opinions. People can view one thing in various different ways, and that's perfectly understandable! I don't like Deruth and that's mine.

Deruth was-no, is a coward. The lovely author of the novel has made it pretty clear. And I don't hate him for it. Being a coward is not a sin, but neglecting your son is.

Like b*tch, most fanfictions make you a better father than you are just because your wife was dead like WTF?!?! Your son's mom was dead too REMEMBER THAT?!?! 눈_눈

And I'm not against Cale and Deruth having a good relationship or those fanfics that basically erase Deruth's wrongdoing because to be honest, I enjoy them too. It's much easier to pretend Deruth was a good father and that our lovely little Og!Cale had a wonderful life than look at canon. o(TヘTo)

Let's recap: Deruth was a decent father until Jour died. Then he went into a deep depression of which Cale tried his bestest to pull his father out of. We know Cale basically ignored his own sorrow just to take care of his father AND the count duties his father was ignoring at the same time. While there is nothing wrong with grieving as losing Jour was very hard for Deruth, couldn't he have at least put SOME effort into assigning someone efficient to handle his duties so 7-year-old Cale didn't have to?

While on the topic of grieving, Deruth not only failed his duties as a count but as a father. I personally have no experience with this, but I had a friend with a dead mother. Even though her father must've been sad too, he put in effort to take care of her and her sister, send them to school, make money, manage the household and everything. Fathers and mothers push aside their sorrow every day to do the bast they can for their children. Deruth, on the other hand, was too much of a fool to do any of that.

Deruth wasn't the only one who lost Jour, after all. Cale lost his mother. The one who gave birth to him, raised him, hugged him, told her all his secrets, whom did the same in return, and was the only other person with the same bright and beautiful hair that he had.

And he could've turned around after a few weeks and fixed everything up and let both him and Cale heal with each other. But NOOOO~ He had to leave his only cute, lovely, wonderful, but most of all GRIEVING son all alone in a cold and lonely mansion for vacation. Like he could've at least taken him along so they could grieve together? But NOOOO~ Cale looks too much like his dead wife and that's so iMpOsSiBle~ ～(　TロT)σ

Then, while little cutie patootie Cale is fainting from exhaustion for managing the count's duties and trying to keep the collateral family in check, Deruth goes prancing around the beach and gets a lady pregnant. That's technically FINE, other than the fact that his wife just died, his son is almost all the way there to joining him, and he almost ruined the woman's life.

But he fixed that? How? By marrying the woman on the spot! Bringing in a new countess when no one but him got over the old one and turning up all the dark shades of sorrow into wedding curtains before Cale even knew what was happening! (°ロ°)

BTW, Violan, Basen, and Lily are amazing. They're one of my most fave fictional families and no one can tell me otherwise. Go them! q(≧▽≦q)

And as the years go by, our smart Cale realizes that the vassals and the collateral family are coming after Violan and Basen and decided to throw away his life and soul all for his father's picturesque perfect family; just so that coward can be happy.

And then KRS!Cale comes along (also love him, go my baby make fires 🔥 and steal MONAH!!! 🫰💰💵) and suddenly, Deruth thinks Cale is all "fixed" and "not broken" so he can finally reach out to his son, only it's NOT HIS SON ANYMORE!!! Like, he had over 10 years even after marrying Violan to reach out to him but ?????

But since there are no implications of him raising a hand against Cale, I don't hate him and wish for his death like another certain protagonist's father (I'm looking at you, Kim Dokja's 'father'), but that doesn't mean I can just forgive and forget all of this, okay?

Yes, he let Cale waste his life away because he couldn't even protect the new family member that he brought into the family HIMSELF as the count, so Cale had to do it himself. When the Choi Han incident happened, he didn't even show up or visit him even though we know Cale would fight the damn gods if it were the other way around.

So in conclusion: I don't really hate Deruth, but please for the love of peace, family, and chaos DON'T convince me to like him one bit.

[pickleskisser]

hii!! I really liked your pickles headcanons and the part about meeting his family was my favorite! if you have the time could I request hcs for meeting the family for the rest of the boys? if not the rest of them then just skwisgaar would be fine!

remember to drink water, eat a snack, and take plenty of breaks!

(ps can i be spade anon?)

HIIII !! Omg thank you sm I had a lot of fun with it lolz. And yeah I can so do that for you :p fair warning it's very improvised since info on these dude's parents are scarce but I hope it's enjoyable anyways ☆

Meeting the Parents HCs

Nathan Explosion

The one you have to worry least about, his parents are sweethearts.

Though his mom will have an eye on you both the whole time.

I feel like Nathan has a record of getting entangled with people who were not so good for him, so it isn't personal or anything she's just on the fence at first.

Once she realizes you're not like that, though, and genuinely love Nathan and, in turn, treat him how he deserves, she's alllllllll over you.

She's going to want your number, your Skype, your Facebook, everything.

She'll pull out the baby pictures too. It greatly embarrasses your brutal boyfriend.

His dad would be the same, on the fence a little, but he overall trusts Nathan a little more.

He might try to plan a fishing trip, though, and Nathan is going to be all over that, so good luck getting out of that if you viscerally dislike fishing.

Overall, don't sweat it! As long as you treat their boy right, they love you, and you might as well be family now.

Toki Wartooth

Oh boy. So I'm not sure you could ever really meet his parents?

He doesn't like talking about them. You probably didn't even learn anything about them until late in your relationship.

If you were to hypothetically meet them, well, you're only meeting his mom.

Aslaug would be dead at this point so there wouldn't be much of an option.

Anja is a cold woman with high unachievable standards. So don't take the fact she won't even speak to you too personally.

If you're religious in the Christian sense, you might have a small chance of approval… but then again, you're dating Toki Wartooth of Dethklok, and you had to learn about him somewhere. Goddamn devil music.

Don't even waste your breath. All that matters is how much you and Toki love each other.

William Murderface

It's not willing on his part at all.

Stella is showing up unannounced, ranting and raving about not telling her he finally got hitched, and he must just want her to die or something.

He's snippy and miserable the whole time. Not miserable in the same sense Pickles was, he's more annoyed than anything.

Stella isn't the most gentle woman. She's abrasive and loud and can be partial to physical violence, but she does care a little bit about her grandson.

She really sucks at showing it, and definitely fucked him up with her parenting style (if his emotional constipation and short fuse didn't make that clear) but she did step up when his parents died instead of letting him go through the system, so.

All this to say, she's giving you a shotgun talk.

William will pry it out of her hands, of course, and curse her out for it, but it's happening !!

After that, though, don't worry, you're family now. Actually, maybe you should worry.

This means that whatever small politeness she whipped up before is long gone, you're a Murderface now, you are going to get treated like one.

Although William couldn't care less about his grandmother's opinion, he cares about yours. So, to see you embracing his family in full stride without getting scared off is more than heartwarming to him.

Skwisgaar Skwigelf

Again, it's fully unwilling on his end. It would honestly have to be something you want.

I think it's needless to say his relationship with his mom is weird. He truthfully wouldn't mind never seeing her again, especially after the events of fatherklok.

But again, if you really, really, want it then, yeah, he'll take you down to Sweden.

Surfetta doesn't have much of an opinion on you. What you are to her son is no concern to her.

She's most likely tipsy the whole time and disappearing for periods at a time.

The whole thing will feel like a waste of time, and Skwisgaar is stressed.

Don't worry he just needs to play his Thunderhorse for a few hours, and maybe a little bit of laying on top of you with his head on your chest listening to the sound of your heartbeat… just a little.

[soft-pine]

1.14 nightmare // cn discussion of domestic violence and suicide

what an aptly named episode. this is one of the most upsetting episodes of the whole show for me. while it touches on themes that i love - what if the monster was family - the way it handles ms miller is deeply uncomfortable. and max's story is just downright awful.

i do find it interesting that this is the second time this season where dean is arguing that they have to stop someone even if they happen to be human. while sam is vehemently insisting that them being "human" means they have to take another approach.

the first is in faith:

DEAN: Sam the guys playing God, he's deciding who lives and who dies. That's a monster in my book. SAM: No. We're not going to kill a human being Dean. We do that we're no better than he is.

and then again here:

SAM: Dean. He's a person. We can talk to him. 

i've said and i'll say again that dean understands that monstrosity is the result of actions and choices not something intrinsic. i think sam sees monstrosity and humanity as more of an intrinsic dichotomy and that's one reason he struggles so much in season 2. anyway.

but really what i want to talk about is ms miller. and how clear it is that she is also a victim of domestic violence. i understand, deeply, why max is so angry with her and why he sees her as an extension and enabler of his abusers. but i simply cannot fathom a world where max is experiencing the torrential abuse he's suffering where those people are not also harming ms miller deeply.

max accuses her, "You didn't do anything. You didn't stop them, not once!" their old neighbor says, "the worst part was the stepmother. She'd just stand there, checked out, not lifting a finger to protect him." the neighbor's claim always strikes me as a remarkably cruel reading of someone who is clearly also suffering and likely dissociating. like idk man of course i think adults have responsibility in situations like this (and i do appreciate the nod to the cops being useless) but like... "the worst part" THE WORST PART was the stepmother. i kinda feel like the worst part was the abuse, no?

but the upshot of it all is that ms miller's implied abuse seems like it has no witnesses. and that's of interest to me because of some interactions we've already dealt with in season 1.

in 1.03, we get this exchange:

DEAN: ... all that anger, you can't keep it burning over the long haul. It's gonna kill you. You gotta have patience, man. SAM: How do you do it? How does Dad do it?

then this in 1.08:

SAM: Remind you of somebody? Dad? DEAN: Dad never treated us like that. SAM: Well, Dad never treated you like that. You were perfect. He was all over my case. You don't remember?

and at the end of 1.14, sam says:

SAM: Well I'll tell you one thing. We're lucky we had Dad. DEAN: Well I never thought I'd hear you say that. SAM: Well, it coulda gone a whole other way after Mom. I little more tequila and a little less demon hunting and we woulda had Max's childhood. All things considered, we turned out ok. Thanks to him.

listen, i would never argue that john winchester didn't abuse sam. but i think it's interesting that though sam is critical of john's parenting and though he has complaints about how john treated him, he doesn't seem to think john treated dean poorly.

which, we just simply know he did. we know it because john does it in 1.09, 1.12, 1.20, 1.21. and because we're told he did in 1.18, 1.22, 2.01, 4.19, 9.07, 14.11, 14.12, 15.20, i mean i could go on.

and not that i have to filter everything through season 14 episode 12 prophet and loss. but i will. because it very clearly lays out how 1. dean was forced into the role of keeping the peace and 2. john would treat dean badly in ways dean wasn't sure sam was witnessing.

DEAN: I know things got dicey… you know, with dad… the way he was. And I just… I didn’t always look out for you the way that I should’ve. I mean, I had my own stuff, you know. In order to keep the peace, it probably looked like I took his side quite a bit. Sometimes when I was… when I was away, you know it wasn’t ‘cause I just ran out, right? Dad would… he would send me away when I really pissed him off. I think you knew that.

the uncertainty behind, "i think you knew that." ough.

but bad boys goes even farther here:

SAM: Hey, Dean ... I mean, why didn't you just tell me you went to a boys' home? DEAN: I don't know. Uh, it was Dad's idea. And then it just – you know, the story became the story. I was 16.

john told dean to lie to sam about what was happening to him.

so what does this all mean in an episode where dean is somewhat mirrored to and protective of the allegedly bystanding stepmother?

that abuse is shitty, cruel, secretive, and protects itself by pitting its victims against each other.

i don't know i wish i had something a bit clearer to say than all this. but it's just sad.

[silly-pupper-drawings]

Original photo by @sidetongue (and apologies for how poor Budgie was treated by this angle 😅)

[Image ID: Four pictures. The first is two sketches of black ink on a single piece of white paper. The left is a picture of a sitting dog with their head tilted back in a howl with their chest facing the camera. They have floppy ears and are wearing a collar with a small hexagonal tag. The right picture is a close up of a dog head tilted back in a howl. The dog is colored in with black pen with the muzzle and chin slightly lighter and the floppy ears the darkest. There is a collar partially hidden by one ear.

The second picture is a sketch of black ink on white paper. A dog's face is drawn with the muzzle pointed at the 'camera.' The dog has two upright ears though they're at different angles. The dog's eyes are round and their mouth is slightly open.

The third picture is a sketch of black ink on white paper. A dog's face is drawn with their nose pointed up and to the left. Their eyes are large and they have floppy ears. Their mouth is open wide with teeth along the bottom front of their jaw showing and a large tongue hanging out the side of their mouth.

The last picture is a photo with a watermark of "Point & Snoot" in the bottom right corner. Three dogs are in focus on a stretch of wet sand. The dog in the middle of the photo is the leftmost dog to the viewer, he is sitting in the sand with his muzzle pointed up into the air. He has a red collar and a hexagonal dog tag visible and looks wet and sandy. The next dog is slightly blurry and all black. She looks to be moving around the howler with her eyes in the air. She is also wet and scraggly. The third dog only has one leg, chest, and head visible in the photo. His head is tilted slightly back and his tongue is hanging out the side of his mouth. He is also wet.

End ID]

[icewindandboringhorror]

On average, what is the total MONTHLY amount that you spend on dining out*?

*(This doesn't only count going out to restaurants, but also stuff like picking up fast food to bring home, getting a coffee on the way to work, getting a premade sandwich from a grocery store deli during lunch, buying a quick snack from a convenience store or food cart whilst walking somewhere, ordering a pizza or any other food to be delivered to your home, etc.)

*(If you often dine out in groups/as a household: calculate and divide the costs so that you get a Per Person average. This is for YOU individually, NOT the total household/group costs)

(I'm sure polls similar to this have been made before (very common topic), I just haven't personally seen one that I can remember, so, I was curious to do my own! I was discussing this with a group of people today and it was very interesting to see how widely the number varied between individuals. :0c )

(Reblog for bigger sample size if you can, and feel free to explain your answer in tags if there's anything extra to add!)

[dukeofthomas]

It's kinda funny how people reject the comics bc Batman is abusive and it's mostly ignored/not addressed properly... and then instead go read fic where Batman is abusive but it's ignored/not addressed properly

[memento-morri-writes]

I've been thinking a lot about how Rook's reunion with his former mentor, Zara, is going to go, and since I can't predict what the DM is going to have her do or say, I can only dwell on what I know is going to happen. Which happens to include taking off the illusion ring that's been hiding his injuries from her. So have a snippet of the description I have planned for that moment:

tw for description of (mostly healed) injuries

He hesitates, twisting a ring on his finger. Looking at it more closely, she can tell it’s very finely crafted, and must have been very expensive. A large emerald is set into the band. Rook sighs, and pulls the ring off his finger in one quick motion.  Immediately she’s struck by the difference in his appearance as the illusion melts away. He looks awful. His warm, healthy skin fades to a dull and sickly grey. There’s huge bags under his deeply sunken eyes, and his cheeks are hollowed, as though they have been carved out by an overeager sculptor. He looks like he’s recently risen from the grave.  While he was thin before, now she can see his ribs under the skin, and his collarbones are exaggeratedly pronounce. Thin white lines left by dozens upon dozens of recently healed cuts are scattered across his body. On top of that, faded bruises cover most of his visible skin, a mottled mosaic of purple and yellow. They’re clearly days, maybe weeks old, and she can only begin to imagine what they must have looked like when fresh. Bandages are barely visible under his shirt, wrapping around his back, hinting at even more injuries.