#but hey its only my first drawing with them!!

[mmmilkweed]

I know I've written a lot today, but I hope you can forgive another long walk of text, feel free to mute the #milkweed rants tag!

I just wanted to write this somewhere. No particular reason other that I'm, yet again, a bit drunk

It's an uncomfortable thought that I can still be jealous of the woman I'm married to. What a great start innit haha anyway. The discord has been a handful - but oh, it's so fun. So many funny individuals. I digress-

It takes me right back to when I meet her. I was in a horrible state. Mute and tired and angry at the world. And she was as radiant as she is now - a social butterfly in a field of flowers. She's amazing now too. Perfect conversationalist, she just keeps it going without much effort. She's fearless.

I don't know how she does it. She didn't even know my favorite artist, who joined my server, and yet she struck up a conversation as easy as buttering toast. Spoke to them so freely -.. I don't think I could ever justify my jealousy. That split moment of resentment eats at me

I remember the first days of knowing her, but not speaking to her, with mixed emotions. Back then I was angry, I was jealous. I sat in calls silent because I was mute. She was the only one who read them. No one else bothered to. Only her. Somehow the group call ended with only us two left. I was "working" as an artist for the server we both found eachother in - so I streamed my screen, and my drawings. And I began writing. And our 'conversations' went on for hours

I still don't know what she saw in me. I was an angry, annoying, mute kid in the back of the class doodling old men with swords. And somehow this chatterbox saw me and decided 'yup. That one's mine.' and never let go. Ppft I remember lying about my age so I could seem cooler to her. Dw, I was 18 at the time. I just thought 'hey... Shed probably be more comfortable with an 19 year old..' what a transgression, I know. I'm rambling. I'm sorry, I like thinking about us. How the world turned out its pockets for us to meet

And yet I'm still jealous

I'll never truly escape myself - I'm reclusive, I hate talking, I can hardly keep a conversation afloat, I slur my words because I spoke so little growing up, it's so hard to understand me and my accent - eugh. - overall I feel like such a failure when it comes to fitting in. I, if course, ignore the feeling. But. It's still there. In the back. And when this jealousy arose I felt it hit me full send - my insecurities, manifested. My chances, slipping past my fingers because I can't speak up, because I'm still just that kid that had to choke out a 'yes' or a 'no'.

I'm over it, right now, of course. My jealousy subsided when I analyzed where it was coming from. But man, does it still eats me up. It was a rough morning. I should apologize properly.

Gonna delete this eventually

[factual-fantasy]

29 Asks! Thank you! :}} 🚗

My rule of "no fanart" applies to fanfics as well. I have now updated my pinned posts FAQ to address this 😌

(Referencing this post)

XDD I'm glad! :}}}

Oof- sorry! No alcohol for us thanks! 😅 But hey- thanks for the offer! :)

@dunkudunk

AAAAAA THANK YOU SO MCUH!!! 😭😭💞💞💞

@elegysonnet

My favorite ancient Cookie is prooobably Pure Vanilla.. and my favorite beast is probably Mystic flour 👀👀

(Link in ask)

NIRAMIIIIII I will absorb this advice thank you 🫡🫡🫡

Something tells me he shouldn't be trusted with a tool that powerful/valuable <XDD

I'm considering the paid drawing requests more and more.. thank you for this ask. I'll keep it all in mind! :}}}

..Thank yuuu.... 🥺💖e

@thesweetishfish

XD That's actually very sweet and reassuring, thank you!🥰

Keeping this all in mind, thank you very much! :}}

(In response to this post)

NOOOOO DON'T TAKE MY TABLET I NEED HER 😭😭😭

@digi-vie

Aww XDDD love the chaotic bag gremlin. And the second one is so beautiful!🥰Thank you! :))

@starrygirldrawsx3

I've been thinking about watching TFP connected shows on and off.. maybe I'll give them a go after I finish Prime..? But aaaa idk.. not having Bulk, Miko and Ratchet around would be such a bummer 😭💔💔

Honestly a paid requests thing sounds great. I've had many times where I've dealt with artblock and turned to peoples suggestions for help. If I could work out a system for that.. I think I'd be much more comfortable giving commissions a go. <:)

@neo-metalscottic (Bibi and Cici birthday post) (Webtoon OC post)

Howdy, thank you so much. <:) I'm hoping my Ko-fi does start to rake in some money overtime. I really don't want to have to do commissions.💔

As for their birthdays... uhhhh I'm having a hard time remembering the dates. I have it written done somewhere I'm sure.. I know that Gerald's is somewhere in April, and Jangles is in August. I'll have to go find those dates again-

Also thank you! :DD I'm so glad you like my OCs! :))) So far what I had in mind for those two was.. well, you might need some context first actually-

The general idea for that webcomic was that it all takes place inside the broken mind of a comatose girl. (This cliché plot is what made me drop it rather quick) But anyways- so all the characters in this world are based on things in her real life.

The clown character is meant to be apart of a species of clowns. They're shapeshifters of sorts. And the shadowy figure is his true form/a beast that he can transform into if needed. This clown character is supposed to be her minds version of her dad. Someone one who always made her laugh and was very friendly. But was also very capable of protecting her.

Now the owl... I was thinking that one night before she fell into her coma.. she saw a barn owl outside her bedroom window. But due to the surrounding darkness, she could only see its head. She ended up feeling like/imagining that all the darkness out there around it was its body.

So now in her dream scape, this black shapeshifting beast stalks the group from afar. Contorting its body into various shadowy bugs and furry creatures. But always keeping its owl face...

He only knows as much as I do, So unfortunately I'd say no 😅 I'm unfamiliar with Skeletor. But Papyrus on the other hand...👀

Woof 💀 this is why I'm just sticking with Transformers: Prime 😅There's too much to keep track of!

A much as it brings me down, yes. I'd like to be notified in hopes I can have it taken down. 😔 Also thank you! :)

(Link in ask)

I see no issue with this XD

Are they bringing ibuprofen? :(

@milk-powrit

Some characters will stay evil and will have no redemption. For example Silas, Airachnid and Megatron will see no redemption. And I cant see any world where TFP Soundwave would work with the Autobots.. same thing with Starscream and his brothers.

As for most of those dramatic battles and moments, most of it will be remedied by "they actually survived the fight and got a second chance."😅

@tango-o-mango

My favorite bot character is Ratchet :)) but Bulkhead is a very close second. I just cant help but love the grumpy old bot. He pretends to not like the kids and be annoyed by the others antics. But the truth is his spark is full of nothing but love and dedication to his team. And he would give up everything he is/has to protect any of them. 🧡

My favorite human characterrr..... well, usually its Miko, but only when she's being really sweet/cute with Bulkhead. "I'll never forget you.." "I wanna be just like you Bulk!" "I cant Bulk, I gotta get you outa here!" "We cant leave Bulkhead! "(Run Miko!) Miko's brow frows and she tears up"

But aside from those moments she can get on my nerves sometimes <XD So for that reason I think Jack is my favorite human character. He never gets on my nerves and I like how much he's matured over the series.

Now favorite duo... ooo that's a good question. It'll have to beeee... uhhh.. man. Its a tough pick. I like Ratchet and Optimus, Bulkhead and Wheeljack are always fun.. but man, Bulkhead and Miko just hits different.

Arcee: "A scout must be silent but deadly" (Miko and Bulk both snicker and laugh). "That's my girl!" "I'm never leaving your side again.." The two of them together just makes my heart swell 😭💞💞

Also thank you! I hope you have a wonderful day as well! :))

@friedfishilove

AAA THANK YU SO MUCH!! :DDD

Also unfortunately, no.😔 There's been no such healing. 1 year later and I'm still battling this condition with no cure in sight. I'm at my wits end if I'm being honest.

@imafrealinrainbow478484

My only thought is "Why do those humans look nothing like Mario?? 💀"

I've heard of Earthspark, and while I've heard some good things about it.. I've also seen some not so good things. I think I'll just stick with Transformers Prime <:D

Yeah I was surprised that "Orion" wasn't more shocked and devastated at being told that his dear friend Ratchet and him were at war. And for this long..

I wish we had a moment where Ratchet got to explain everything to him. Or better yet- can you imagine if Orion was told all this horrible stuff about Ratchet, and then somehow he has a brief encounter with Ratchet? Maybe he was on the battle field and saw Ratchet in the distance, gingerly helping Bee to his feet.

Then they lock optics, and Ratchet looks devastated. His optics are full of worry and sorrow. The way he protectively shields Bee from gunfire.. he just cant see the blood thirst war criminal that Megatron described.

Maybe after that he would start to really become suspicious of Megatron and start to figure things out..

@jade-green-butterfly

Thank you <:) I wish the same for you! :))

@wolfie-777

Judging by your name, I'd say make it a wolf XDDD

[clankie4life]

"im gonna release the starlight high pilot script in february!" *procrastinates*

[meamiki]

Happy Anniversary In Stars and Time!! Have some Friend Quest based drawings :D

(These have specific quote picks related to them! And there's also a long ramble on why I like those specific quotes below if interested)

(And by long, I mean roughly 2k+ words of proper ramble total, so be warned before clicking keep reading this link right here to the rb!!)

[manglw]

guh just finished playing dsaf 3 i am. mentally unwell

[skitskatdacat63]

Tradition vs Modernity vs Comradery

+ context & lore:

In the first drawing, Fernando is wearing a capote de paseo, which is what bullfighters wear before the match begins, as seen below:

In the second, Seb is shouting the very familiar "Olé" which is shouted by the crowd to praise the matador. He's a little brat, so of course he's yelling it for himself, but he did get many 💐

The third(which was a random sketch I had that I didn't think I'd finish tonight, so ignore if its messy) has very important context to me. Before going to the final act and killing the bull, matadors dedicate their montera(hat)(and symbolically: their kill) to a a specific person in the audience(or just the public as a whole.) Seb and Fernando are finally in the same color! Seb is bowing!!! And Fernando is honoring Seb!!!! Also ignore that I drew Seb's post-retirement hair. Though, maybe this drawing is supposed to represent Fernando making a dedication to his now-gone rival 😔(Seb: stop telling people im dead!)

Now, some more lore :D

So I talked about this in my last matador post but I'll expand more. I think it's very funny to characterize Fernando in this au as this fun-hating traditionalist. Because you have to understand; he's only this way when it comes to Seb. Because you absolutely KNOW he was doing silly, unserious shit back when he was younger. But absolutely god forbid Seb do anything silly.

It's very ironic because there literally is a part in the third act of a bull fight where it's basically encouraged to be a bit silly. This is a tad morbid, but basically right before they deliver the killing blow, some show their mastery over the bull by doing some superfluous action(ex. kissing the bull, kneeling in front of the bull.) There's some guy who literally would lean on the bull and mime taking a call. But anyways, Seb would def do this. I've not been able to draw it exactly how I want, but he would bend down and do his little bull horn symbol and mime charging at the bull. (Fernando, trying to make up reasons to hate Seb: oh my god, look at this blatant disrespect, look how he is disrespecting the bull, I cannot believe how rude this boy is!)

Also there's something to be said about how the matador shows mastery over the bull by kissing it or bowing to it...and Seb is technically the bull in this au and Fernando is the matador. There's just this unfortunate level of weird power inbalance that still lingers even though their rivalry is over and can't be affected anymore. There was no succinct answer about who truly was better because Seb was forced out of it. So there's always gonna be this level of "is he just pitying me? Is he just mocking me? Is he just patronizing me?" on Seb's part whenever Fernando praises him or makes dedications to him. And Fernando's always going to be haunted by the fact that there's no answer to who is truly better because he'll never know if Seb had reached his full potential or not. Anyways, they also have nasty sex while wearing their costumes and do weird bull/matador roleplay :)

[this-is-specifically-for-art]

ITS HIS FUCKUBG BIRTHDAY I LOVE HIM

[arolesbianism]

The Joshua section of my oni playlist is looking great so far

[tetsvya]

clueless, kuroo tetsuro

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷  kuroo tetsuro has a thing for girls with long hair. so what if you're a girl with long hair? that doesn’t mean anything!

➼ pairing! kuroo tetsuro x fem!manager!reader

➼ warnings! none, just fluff and humor. maybe ooc because i haven't written in years??? unfortunately, because this is based on the scene of kuroo and yaku arguing about their preference, this is really for my long haired girlies 😣 i apologize to the short haired readers

➼ word count! about 1.4k

➼ author’s note! "haikyuu renassiance!" we all cheer in unison. anywho, this is my first time posting in two years. please be nice to me 🫡

"So, you prefer girls with short hair then, Yaku?" Kai asks, shedding off the white button-up of his school uniform and revealing his black practice t-shirt. The three third-year Nekoma players had found themselves in an empty classroom, deciding to use it as a makeshift changing room. Luckily for them, they had all worn their clean practice clothes under their school uniforms. Doing so allowed them to save time and cut back the number of minutes they were already going to be late to practice, thanks to Yaku getting distracted by a group of girls, which Kai noted all had short hair. Hence, his question.

Yaku paused his work of ridding himself of his tie to send Kai a proud grin, pointing towards him with both hands, “Yesss!

"And you, Kuroo?" Kai turns to him, now curious to know his captain's answer as well.

"Long." Kuroo's answer is firm, leaving no room for debate. Still, he glances at Yaku, as if daring him to try.

Yaku only snorts, shaking his head in amusement as he too turns to look at his captain, "Like that wasn't obvious."

"Ehh," Kuroo's eyes narrow, head craning down to peer at the libero, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means," Yaku starts, taking a step closer as he peers right back up at Kuroo, "Everyone knows you have a crush on our manager, who just so happens to have the longest hair I've ever seen!"

"Ehh?" Kuroo repeats, louder this time as he cranes his head down even more, "Who says I have a crush—"

"Hey!" The door to the classroom slides open with a shocking force, startling the boys and drawing the attention of all three of them to it. Kuroo and Yaku both grow rigid as they find you standing in its opening. Quiet pants slip past your lips, and you take a moment to catch your breath as you stare at the three of them before you begin speaking, "There you guys are! I've been looking for the three of you everywhere."

"Hello," Kai greets kindly, the only one not left in a stupor at your sudden appearance, smiling as you make your way into the classroom. "We apologize, we're running a bit late."

"Yeah," You huff, coming to a stop a few steps away from them as you cross your arms, "It was your guys' turn to set up the nets. So when you guys didn't show up in time to do so and none of you answered your phones, Coach sent me to find you guys. Didn't know I'd be going on a wild goose chase."

Your words leave you in a huff before your eyes land on Kuroo, raising an eyebrow at the captain. His shoulders tense even more at the sudden eye contact and he's quick to snap his head in the other direction. Kuroo suddenly feels warm, realizing how you could have easily heard the conversation transpiring between the three of them. Stupid Yaku, Kuroo curses the libero in his head, doesn't even know what he's talking about.

"Sorry, Y/N." And of course it’s Yaku who disrupts his thoughts, pulling Kuroo's eyes to him just as he sends you an innocent smile, "We got carried away, talking."

There's a teasing tone to Yaku's voice, and Kuroo knows it's directed at him. Why is he friends with him again?

"I don't even want to know," You speak, and Kuroo can envision you shaking your head at the three of them, "Just get dressed and get to the gym as quick as possible, please."

All three boys give some noise of recognition in response to your words, and Kuroo takes the chance to glance at you then. He's quick to regret it. Your hand rises just as he locks eyes with you, reaching up to tuck some of the more unruly pieces of your hair (which most likely came undone due to your seemingly frantic search of the three third years) behind your ear and out of your face. Kuroo's eyes follow the movement of your hand, trailing downwards and taking in the long strands of hair that fall well past your shoulders. Once again all too aware of the conversation he was just having with his teammates, the tips of his ears burn as he pulls his gaze away from you once more. He shakes his head, trying to get Yaku's words out of his mind. Just because he liked girls with long hair, and just because you so happened to be a girl with long hair, did not mean he liked you.

Right?

A snort of laughter suddenly leaves Yaku, having caught the interaction, and Kuroo turns to him with a heated glare. You don't miss the exchange between them either.

"Are you two having one of your petty arguments again?" You accuse, eyes glancing between Kuroo and Yaku who are suddenly staring back at you like two deers caught in headlights. "Seriously, you've been fighting like this since first year. What topic could you guys possibly still be discussing?"

Yaku's smirk returns as he glances at his captain with an all too knowing look before he turns back to you, "Well, if you really want to kn—"

"Nope!" Kuroo is quick to interject, speaking for the first time since you entered and drawing your attention away from Yaku and back to the captain himself. Your eyes widen as he begins to take long strides in your direction. "No arguing here!"

Your lips part, confusion taking over your features at the odd behavior your captain is displaying. You don't get the chance to say anything, however, as Kuroo makes a show of glancing at the clock on the wall before turning back to you with a dramatic gasp, "Oh, would you look at the time! We should really be heading to practice."

"You still have your school shirt on, Kuroo.” You point out when he stops in front of you, pointedly glancing down at Kuroo's attire, which consisted of his practice shorts and white button-up, with his red school tie hung loosely around his neck.

"I'll just change it once we're in the gym," Kuroo responds, waving away your interjections before he drops his hands onto your shoulders and forces you to turn around and back toward the door. You attempt to dig your heels down when he begins to push you in the direction of the door, but you're truly no match for his strength. Stupid volleyball training.

"Kuroo," You voice your protests, attempting to swat at his hands in order to get him to release you. Once again, your attempts remain futile, "Let go of me!"

"No can do! As captain and manager, it's our job to be on time to every practice. What would our team do without us?" Kuroo shakes his head, clicking his tongue as if he's scolding you. He turns back to Kai and Yaku, flashing them a warning smile, daring them to say another word. Yaku merely watches on with an unamused look, while Kai holds a placid smile. There's extra sweetness in his voice as he practically chirps out, "Bring my stuff to the club room, will you?"

"I was on time!" You retort, not giving Kai nor Yaku a chance to respond to their exasperating captain as you send them a pointed look, all the while succumbing to your fate and allowing Kuroo to push you out of the classroom. After all, he did have a point. It probably wouldn't be long before Lev managed to push somebody's buttons (most likely Yamamoto’s) one too many times and ended up in hot water. "The only reason I'm not there right now is because I came looking for you guys!"

"Ah, now is not the time to deal blame, Y/N. Our juniors are waiting on us." Kuroo argues back, shaking his head as he removes one hand from your shoulder to slide the door shut behind the two of you. Still, Yaku and Kai face the door as the sound of your guys' bickering persists. It grows quieter and quieter with each passing moment, and it isn’t until they can no longer hear your guys' voices does Yaku glance away with a shake of his head.

"He's clueless." Yaku deadpans, glancing back down at his tie as he continues to work on untying it.

Kai nods, neatly folding his button-up before placing it in his bag. "Completely."

[luveline]

spencer x reader where she kisses his forehead and he’s 🥹🥹

“Spencer, are you dead?” 

Spencer ignores your question by accident. Heavy head in hand, he’s slowly sinking closer and closer to the hotel breakfast table to rest. His neck twinges with the effort it takes to stay up. 

“Spencer,” you say more sharply. 

His eyes track like the air is honey. He settles on your sluggishly while offering no greeting, tiredness pulling at him. “My eyes hurt,” he offers. 

“Make you some tea.” 

“Um, okay.” He’s disappointed when you leave, then dozing, face pressed to his desk as itchy eyes press along lids. It feels as though his eyelashes have turned inward. 

You return with a cup. Spencer grabs it blindly, lifts his head to squint one eye open. “What?” he asks. 

There isn’t tea in the cup. There are tea bags, two of them, wetted and leaking tan beige along the white china of the mug. Distinctly no tea. You must be tired too. 

“They’re for your eyes, Spence. They’ll make your eyes hurt less. The caffeine restricts your blood vessels to calm the inflammation, and the tea itself soothes sore skin.” 

“How do you know that?” he asks. 

You rest a hand on his shoulder. “I read about it in a book of modern home remedies. It really works. Here, can you tip your head back?” 

Spencer is very, very tired, but your voice is nice, your fingertips gentle against his neck, so he tips his head back. He doesn’t know how terrible he looks, having forgotten his untucked shirt, his rumpled sweater vest, his hair sticking up all over the place. 

“Close your eyes,” you murmur. 

Spencer shuts them. 

“It’s cold,” you warn, “but it’ll feel nice.” 

Spencer doesn’t care. He waits for you to move. The tea bags you place on his closed eyes feel cold and at first they sting just a touch, perhaps tea finding its way through his lashes, and he can’t confess to noticing a difference in soreness. 

“Hey… what’s this? It looks like it hurts?” you ask, drawing a short line over the side of the bridge of his nose. There’s an indent there that feels like a bruise.

“I fell asleep at my desk with my glasses on,” he says. “They dug in.” 

“You were up late, I’m guessing. Maybe you should go back to the room.” 

“No, I can’t. I’ll be okay. Thank you for the… tea.” 

Your hand rests tentatively against his cheek. He can’t open his eyes to see what you're feeling, and he doesn’t need to. There’s emotion to be felt in your slow strokes, how your thumb rests along his jaw as your nail scratches to the top of his ear, then behind the shell of it. It’s intimate enough to summon a different kind of tiredness. Exhaustion swapped for content. He could sleep in the curve of your palm all day. 

“You’re welcome,” you say. “I’m gonna take them off for a second to check the damage.” 

You take them. Your breath draws near. 

A warmth presses to his forehead atop his left eyebrow. Spencer doesn’t know what it is until your nose graces just above it, and your lips part —it’s a kiss. You’re kissing him sweetly, your fingers sewing through his hair. 

He peels his sore eyes open to look at you. You lean back as unhurried as you’d ferried forward, your hand cradling the nape of his neck. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” you ask. 

Spencer stares up at you. In that moment, tired, aching, and balmed, he’s completely in love with you. You must see a little of it, your lips parting again in an unnamed emotion. It’s sheer luck that you’re the only one awake with him, because if any of his teammates saw the way he was looking at you they’d never let him forget it. And, he gets to see your reaction. Your partial smile. 

“Did that help?” you ask. 

You must mean the tea. “I feel better.” 

“Yeah? Do you…” Your voice turns to cashmere, a thread of bemusement tugging at the corner of your mouth. “Would another one be okay?” 

Spencer can only nod as you wrap your arms around him and position your mouth at the soft skin where his hair meets his forehead. When you kiss him again, his eyes flutter shut. 

“You really need some help with your insomnia,” you murmur. 

Spencer wonders if maybe you’d want to be that help. You must have melatonin in your kisses.

[ahqkas]

hey so how do you think the batboys would deal with a s/o who sleeps with a sheathed sharp weapons knife/taser/glock under their pillow whenever their boyfriend isn’t sleeping over at their place. S/o forgot to put it away when their boyfriend came over. Too Happy to see him. the boys find the knife/taser/glock under the pillow and s/o’s just like “I’m a woman living in bludhaven/gotham. I’m not waiting until it’s too late when someone breaks in”?

♯ STRONGER THAN ALL MY MEN ( your boyfriend finds a stashed weapon under your pillow ! )

— gn!reader, bruce, dick, jason, mention of reader’s hair

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

. . . BRUCE WAYNE !

BRUCE HAD ALWAYS BEEN A MAN OF SHARP OBSERVATION. it was second nature to him, etched so deeply that even in the comfort of your apartment, his eyes missed nothing. he’d come over late, after finishing up with wayne enterprises and a brief patrol, his strong body visibly relaxed for the first time all day. you had greeted him at the door with an embrace so warm and genuine it chased away the weight of gotham from his shoulders. he barely had time to remove his coat before you were pulling him toward your bed, eager to savor a rare, quiet night together.

as he eased into the bed, his movements were slow, deliberate, and unguarded—a state so rare for him, reserved only for these moments of quiet with you. he reached for one of the pillows, intending to fluff it into a more comfortable shape, but his hand stilled when it brushed against something sharp beneath the soft fabric. his brow furrowed, and his fingers instinctively slipped under the pillow. the faint rustle of fabric accompanied the retrieval of the object, and when he pulled it free, the dim light from your bedside lamp reflected off the gleaming surface of a sheathed knife.

bruce’s lips pressed into a thin line, his jaw tightening as he studied the weapon with the intensity of someone accustomed to cataloging the smallest details. his thumb brushed over the hilt, testing its weight and balance. the blade wasn’t just functional—it was high-quality, the kind of thing someone purchased with intention, not on a whim. his blue eyes flicked between the knife and the pillow, the wheels in his mind turning as he silently pieced together the puzzle. whatever conclusions he was drawing, the slight tension in his shoulders suggested he didn’t like them.

you froze mid-laugh, the joy of the moment fading as your eyes landed on the blade in his hand. for a moment, he said nothing, his face unreadable in that maddening way he often was. then, finally, he spoke, his voice low and measured, carrying the weight of his concern.

“why is there a knife under your pillow?”

with a sigh, you sank onto the edge of the bed as your initial embarrassment gave way to resolve. “i forgot it was there,” you admitted. “i was just so happy to see you, i didn’t even think about it.”

his expression didn’t shift, but his eyes remained fixed on you, searching for an explanation. when you didn’t offer one immediately, he prompted gently, “and why was it there to begin with?”

you met his gaze, the unspoken judgment in his tone only strengthening your resolve. “because i live in gotham,” you said firmly, voice steady despite the slight tremor of vulnerability underneath. “i’m not waiting until it’s too late for when someone breaks in.”

bruce’s jaw tightened, the faint clench of his teeth betraying the storm of emotions inside his otherwise composed mind. slowly, he lowered the knife, resting it across his lap as though the weight of it mirrored the burden of your words. his fingers lingered on the hilt, tracing its edge absentmindedly, his mind clearly running through a thousand scenarios he wished he could control. you could see the conflict etched into his features—the subtle furrow of his brow, the tension in his shoulders that he hadn’t quite released.

part of him understood, maybe even agreed, his practical side recognizing the harsh reality of your reasoning. he knew the dangers of gotham better than anyone, knew that even the smallest act of preparation could mean the difference between survival and tragedy. and yet, another part of him, the deeply ingrained protector, the man who had spent his life shielding others from harm, bristled at the thought of you needing to live this way. the idea of you sleeping with a weapon so close, of facing the world with that level of vigilance, gnawed at him. it wasn’t just fear—it was frustration. frustration that the city he fought so hard to fix still made you feel unsafe, that even in your safe place, you couldn’t fully let your guard down.

his lips parted slightly, as though he wanted to say something, but he hesitated. the words seemed to catch in his throat, unspoken, as he tried to reconcile the truth of your actions with the deep ache it left in his heart.

“you know i would never let anything happen to you,” he said finally, his voice quieter now, almost pleading. “if anyone so much as tried—”

“they wouldn’t get the chance,” you interrupted, your tone calm but resolute. “because i’d already have this,” you gestured to the knife, “or my taser, or my glock.”

the mention of a glock made bruce’s lips tighten further as the weight of your words sank in. his gaze flickered briefly to the bedside table, then back to you, as if he were reassessing the entire space around him. you could practically see the gears turning in his head, his mind running through a calculated mix of strategy, worry, and frustration. he wasn’t just imagining the scenarios that had led you to this decision—he was dissecting them, analyzing every possibility, every risk you might face, every outcome he wished he could prevent.

“it’s not that i don’t trust you to protect me, bruce,” you added softly. “i know you would. but you’re not always here. and i’ve seen too much, lived in this city too long, to be naive about what could happen. this isn’t paranoia—it’s survival.”

he sighed, setting the knife on the nightstand before turning to face you fully. his hand reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear as his expression softened. “i get it,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “i do. but it doesn’t mean i like the thought of you having to live like this.”

you leaned into his touch, placing your hand over his. “it’s just how things are, love. i’m not afraid, not really. i’m just careful.”

his thumb stroked over your cheek, the calloused pad a warm contrast to the slight chill lingering in the room as his blue eyes softened while they searched yours, lingering on the subtle cracks in your carefully built walls.

“i’ll support you,” he said finally, his voice quieter now, as though each word had been meticulously chosen. there was no judgment in his tone, only a quiet acceptance that carried the weight of his trust. “if this makes you feel safe, i won’t argue.” bruce paused, his hand still cupping your cheek as his gaze flickered between your eyes, searching for a connection deeper than words. “but i need you to promise me something.”

“what’s that?”

“that if anything happens, anything at all, you call me,” he said firmly. “even if you think you can handle it. even if it’s something small. i want to be there for you.”

you smiled, the warmth of his concern wrapping around you like a soft blanket. his eyes, usually so sharp and calculating, held a rare tenderness that melted away any lingering tension. slowly, you leaned forward, your hand reaching up to rest gently against his jawline, fingers brushing the faint stubble that shadowed his skin. his breath hitched ever so slightly, his lips parting in anticipation as you closed the distance between you.

the kiss you shared was unhurried, delicate at first—a quiet reassurance, a way to say thank you without words. his lips were warm and soft, moving in perfect sync with yours as he cupped the back of your head, pulling you closer. the world seemed to still for a moment, the weight of gotham, of fears and weapons, fading into the background. all that mattered was this—his steady presence, his unyielding care, and the way he kissed you as if he was trying to protect you even in this simple, intimate gesture.

when you finally pulled back, your foreheads rested together, breaths mingling in the soft silence of the room. “i promise,” you murmured again, your voice carrying a quiet certainty, as if the kiss had sealed it more than any words ever could.

. . . DICK GRAYSON !

DICK HAD BEEN AROUND WEAPONS MAJORITY OF HIS ENTIRE LIFE. from the tragedy and chaos in the circus, danger was practically woven into the fabric of his existence. but even so, when he slipped into your bed after a late-night patrol in blüdhaven and felt the cold, unmistakable edge of a knife under your pillow, he froze. his hand instinctively reached for the object, pulling it out with a mix of confusion and concern etched into his features.

“uh, sweetheart?” dick’s voice was filled with both amusement and concern as he pulled the sharp blade from under your pillow, his brow arched in a mix of confusion and curiosity. he turned the knife over in his hand, examining the cold steel for a moment before his eyes met yours. “care to explain why this was under your pillow?” the tone of his voice was playful but laced with genuine concern. “i mean, are you secretly a vigilante? because if so, i gotta say, i’m impressed by the commitment to your role. or, should i be worried that you’ve been planning my untimely demise while i wasn’t looking?” his lips curled into a teasing smile, but there was a flicker of something deeper in his eyes—concern for you, his mind racing with questions. were you in danger?

you turned toward him, your face soft and warm with happiness from having him home, your usual alertness dulled by the comfort of his presence. but when your eyes landed on the knife in his hand, you let out a small, sheepish laugh, brushing your hair behind your ear. “oh, that,” you said casually, as if he had found nothing more concerning than a stray sock. “i forgot to put it away. i was too excited when you came over.”

your boyfriend blinked at you, facial expression torn between exasperation and amusement. “you forgot to put it away?” he repeated, incredulity lacing his tone. “like this is just a regular thing you keep in bed with you?”

sitting up, you hugged your knees to your chest and looked at him with the kind of calm defiance that made his heart ache with how strong you always tried to be. “dick, i’m living in blüdhaven. i’m not waiting until it’s too late when someone breaks in. this city doesn’t exactly have the best reputation for its welcoming committee.”

he sighed, running a hand through the black locks of his hair as he set the knife on the nightstand. “i get that, i really do. but i wish you didn’t feel like you had to sleep with a weapon under your pillow. that’s not exactly the kind of safety i want for you.”

you tilted your head, giving him a pointed look. “you’re a vigilante. you carry more weapons than i do on a daily basis, and you’re telling me you don’t get why i do this?”

dick groaned, leaning back against the headboard, his muscles tense as he processed what you’d said. he pulled you toward him, wrapping his arm around your shoulders until you were nestled against his warm body, your head tucked against his chest. his heartbeat was steady, a comforting rhythm beneath your ear as he held you close.

“okay, fair point,” he admitted with a sigh, brushing a lock of hair out of your face and pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. his lips lingered there for a moment, as if he could melt away your worries with the simple act of being present. “but i don’t like the idea of you feeling like you’re alone in this.” his words were more vulnerable now. “you shouldn’t have to carry that weight by yourself, no matter how tough you are.”

you relaxed against him, letting out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. “i don’t feel alone when you’re here,” you said softly, your voice muffled against his chest.

“i know blüdhaven isn’t exactly the safest place, but u’ll do everything i can to make sure you’re protected. and that doesn’t mean you have to keep a knife under your pillow.”

glancing up at him, a small smile tugged at the corner of your lips. “what are you going to do? install some wayne-tech security system in my apartment?”

he grinned, his blue eyes sparkling with a mix of mischief and determination. “don’t tempt me. i could have this place locked down tighter than fort knox by tomorrow morning.”

. . . JASON TODD !

JASON STEPPED INTO YOUR APARTMENT WITH A TIRED BUT CONTENTED SIGH, the weight of the night’s patrol still lingering on his shoulders. he was used to the harsh realities of gotham—the crime, the chaos, and the constant vigilance it required from him and his family. still, when he came to you, everything slowed down. your presence was a breath of air that he didn’t realize he’d been holding. tonight, he was looking forward to winding down, to a few hours of peace away from the violence he so often lived in.

as he kicked off his large boots and walked through your living room, he noticed the familiar comforting clutter of your apartment. his eyes swept over the small space—a few scattered books, your favorite mug on the coffee table, and the soft flicker of a candle’s flame in the corner. you had always been someone who embraced the chaos of the city, but you also made it your home, finding calm in the cracks between the its dark heart.

you appeared from the hallway, grinning at him like a beacon of warmth along with a look of pure joy on your face. you always managed to light up the room the moment you walked in, and jason felt his tense muscles relax. he smiled back, his heart beating just a little faster from the simple sight of you.

he was whipped.

“hey, you,” you greeted him at the doorway, practically bouncing on your feet as you crossed the room to greet him. he didn’t even have time to respond before you were pulling him into a hug, your arms wrapping around him so tightly that it almost knocked the wind out of him.

“good to see you, too,” jason muttered against your hair, the weight of the world fading just a bit as he let you hold him. you were always so eager to see him, always so open and trusting. it made him want to protect you more than anything.

when you pulled back slightly, he caught sight of something on the bed—something slightly out of place. he frowned for a moment, his sharp eyes narrowing on the sight of the handle poking out from under your pillow. it looked like a gun.

his heart skipped, his training kicking in as his body automatically went on alert. it was instinctive, the way his hand almost reached out to pull the weapon from under the pillow. his mind raced through all the worst-case scenarios—who could have left it there? but then he saw you, beaming at him, unaware of what he was about to uncover. you hadn’t even noticed you’d forgotten to hide it.

“is that . . . ?” jason started, his voice trailing off as his gaze flickered from your face to the gun underneath your pillow.

your eyes followed his, and your expression shifted almost imperceptibly, the carefree smile fading into something a little more guarded. you hadn’t meant for him to find it, but you didn’t hide the truth from him either. you shrugged slightly, trying to make light of the situation.

“it’s nothing. just a little extra protection. you know how it is living here.”

jason’s frown deepened, and he gently pulled the gun from under the pillow, holding it with an experienced hand, inspecting it for a moment. it wasn’t just the glock that caught his attention—it was the knife sheathed near the bed and the taser within arm’s reach on the nightstand. a cold chill ran through him, and he turned to face you, his expression unreadable.

“you’re sleeping with this under your pillow?” he asked, the words barely above a whisper, gaze softening slightly but still filled with concern. his mind wasn’t on the weapon; it was on you. he had seen a lot in his life, but nothing had ever rattled him quite like this. he understood the need for protection in gotham—hell, he had lived that way his whole life—but seeing you so . . . prepared for something, it rattled him in a way he didn’t expect.

you met his gaze and let out a breath, looking at the weapon in his hands. the unease settled into your stomach, but you weren’t going to apologize for being cautious. gotham had taught you to trust your instincts, to never leave yourself vulnerable. you crossed your arms over your chest and leaned against the bed frame.

“i’m living in gotham, i’m not waiting until it’s too late when someone breaks in.”

his jaw clenched, a deep mix of emotions crossing his features. part of him understood the harsh reality of gotham, of living in a city where the line between life and death could be drawn in a heartbeat. but the other part of him—the part that had spent so much time seeing violence up close—couldn’t stand the idea of you being so weighed down by fear. he had never wanted you to feel like you had to live like this, constantly looking over your shoulder.

“baby,” jason said quietly, the term of endearment sounding strangely soft coming from his mouth, “i get it, okay? gotham . . . it’s dangerous. but you shouldn’t have to live like this, scared all the time. you don’t need to do this alone.”

he set the gun on the nightstand, his voice steady but his eyes filled with a rare tenderness. he stepped toward you, closing the distance between you both, and gently placed his hand on your cheek, tilting your face up to meet his. you could see the concern in his eyes, the way his jaw was tense, but also the warmth and care that was always there when he looked at you. he wasn’t angry—he was worried. jason’s expression softened, and he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a warm embrace. “let me take care of you.”

as he held you, he made a silent vow to himself that he would never let you feel like you had to live in fear again. he would do whatever it took to protect you—always.

[plumso]

sweet reverie (theo x reader)

pairing: theodore nott x reader warning: obsessiveness, possessiveness, bitting summary: y/n attempts to place boundaries between them, but it only reveals the extent of his love for her. masterlist song recommendation: fade into you by mazzy star I do not consent to the reposting of my work! reblogging, however, is fine <3

Y/N has only been in two relationships, the first lasting two years and the second lasting a month. Therefore, she believed she understood love and relationships. Despite how young she was or how long the relationship lasted, she thought she was now mature enough to know what she expected and needed from a partner.

But she was wrong. 

“T-Theo, we shouldn’t do this here,” Y/N whispered.

Theo’s face was nestled in her neck, his lips pressed gently on her skin.

“Hm?” he replied, the vibrations causing a shiver down her back.

“People are staring!” she exclaimed. 

The two were at the Great Hall for lunch, but Theo preferred to gnaw on her neck rather than his food. Unsurprisingly, many eyes were on the lovebirds.

Theo chuckled. He moved his head closer to her ear, rubbing his face in her hair, taking in the sweet apple scent of her shampoo. “I don’t care,” he whispered.

Y/N’s heart leaped as he proceeded to whisper sweet nothings. She couldn’t refuse him. Though anxious about everyone’s stares, she couldn’t help but give in. 

Four months have passed since Y/N started dating Theo. In that short span, she has received more love and affection from him than her two exes combined. He has given her more than what she needs, more than she could ever ask for. 

Y/N couldn’t help but giggle as Theo continued to whisper, his warm breath hitting her ears.

Pleased by her response, Theo gently bit her ear.

Shocked, Y/N slightly drew back as her hand covered her ear. She looked at Theo with disbelief, and he responded with a mischievous smile. 

“I’ve always thought you would look good with earrings,” he said, his long fingers drawing a strand of hair behind her ear, revealing a slight bite mark on her ear lobe. “It looks nice on you.” 

Y/N’s face flushed. “I-I!” she stammered. She was too flustered to think of a response. 

Theo chuckled, finding her reaction cute. He sighed happily and placed his arm around her waist, pulling her closer. “Don’t worry. I’ll buy you real earrings. Consider this as its placeholder.”

Y/N nodded shyly. Her body was still tense from the shock of the bite, but it soon dissipated. She quickly felt warm in his embrace, leaning her head on his shoulder.

Theo smiled. He then handed her a spoon and pushed her plate closer to her. “Alright, you should eat now. Lunchtime is going to end soon.” 

In a daze of warmth and comfort, Y/N nodded. “Thank you,” she hummed, digging her spoon into her fruit parfait.

As the two ate, some of their friends joined them at the table. Theo participated in their conversation, but Y/N remained in her daze, the feel of his teeth still lingering on her skin.

She ran her fingers on the bite marks. Theo would never dare to cause her actual pain, so the marks were shallow. But she could still feel the outlines of his teeth on her skin. 

It didn’t hurt when he bit her. Rather, she felt a tingling sensation in her stomach, a constant feeling when she’s with him. Usually, it would disappear after a few minutes, but she couldn’t shake this one away. 

***

“Hey, Y/N!”

Y/N looked up from her notes and saw her potions partner run up to her. Surrounding students in the library turned and gave them a quick glare. Y/N gave them an apologetic look for the loud disturbance.

“Our project is due soon. Did you want to meet up later and work on it?” He gave Y/N a warm smile, completely ignoring Theo who was sitting right next to her.

Y/N was nervous. Was he ignoring Theo on purpose? Or did he just not see him? Y/N looked at Theo, worried that he would be fuming.

But he wasn’t. He seemed unbothered, his attention focused on his book. It was only till he felt her stare did he look up. Theo gave her a warm smile, wordlessly assuring her he was fine.

Relieved, Y/N smiled back before facing her potions partner. “Uh, yeah. I have a free period after potions. Would that work?”

“Perfect! I have a free period, too. We should hang out more then!” He exclaimed, giving her a charming smile.

Y/N uncomfortably laughed. “Haha, yeah…”

Not noticing her discomfort, he smugly smiled at Theo, as if he had succeded something. “Okay, I’ll see you later then!” 

As he walked away, Y/N anxiously turned to Theo. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly.

“What are you sorry for?” he said with a small chuckle.

“He was kind of… rude to you,” she said, looking down at her fidgeting hands. She didn’t know why, but she felt guilty. It felt like she betrayed Theo by being too nice to her potions partner.

But Theo gave her a warm, knowing smile. “You did nothing wrong.” With his large hands, he gently patted her head. “You’re a nice person. That’s one of the things that I love about you.”

Y/N blushed, feeling shy by his gaze and touch. In times like this, Y/N is reminded that Theo truly sees her, that he understands her.

After a few minutes of flirting, the two turned back to their respective books. But as Y/N tried to refocus on her studies, she couldn’t shake off this uncertain feeling. Theo had perfectly assured her that he was unbothered by it, but she couldn’t fully believe it.

Curious, Y/N slightly tilted her head to take a quick peek at Theo. What she saw then made her eyes widen and her heart drop in shock.

Theo’s usual warm smile was gone. Instead, it was replaced with a dark glare, his eyes directed at her potions partner a few tables away. His eyebrows were furrowed, his hands in a tight ball, his lips in a tight frown. Some blood seeped from his lips, most likely from biting too hard on it. 

Y/N knew that Theo was naturally cold to everyone but her, but he has never seen him angry before. His eyes were filled with bloodlust, his body tense as if he was ready to fight. Seeing this new side of him, Y/N felt a bit scared.

But when she realized that Theo was jealous, that he was mad for her, her face turned beet red. The same tingling sensation came back but in tenfolds. His brooding anger, his dark glare, his dangerous aura - she found it exhilarating.

Realizing that she’s been peeking for too long, Y/N focused her eyes back on her books. But she couldn’t help but imagine how it would feel if he looked at her with that dark, dangerous look in his eyes.

***

After dinner with Theo, Y/N went to the bathroom with her friends to get ready for bed. She placed her skincare bag on one of the sinks before checking her ear closer in the mirror. A few days have passed since Theo bit her ear, and the mark faded later that day. But she continued check it and felt disappointed that his mark was already gone.

“Y/N, what are you doing?” Her friend looked at her with a curious smile.

Y/N quickly backed away from the mirror, awkwardly laughing. “Nothing!” she exclaimed. She then started her skincare routine, hoping to seem normal.

“So…” her friend said as she walked over to Y/N. “How’s it going with Theo? Is he treating you well?”

Y/N brightly smiled. “Yes,” she replied shyly. “He treats me really well.”

“We’ve noticed!” One quipped, causing everyone to laugh. “He’s always around you.”

“Yeah, he’s super territorial of you,” another added. “It’s pretty funny.” Everyone nodded in agreement.

But Y/N was shocked. “What do you mean?”

“Oh… well, he’s always glaring down boys around you. Even around us, he’s sort of… protective of you.”

“I see…” Y/N trailed off, getting lost in deep thought. She knew that Theo was a bit… possessive of her, but she considered it normal between a couple. But if her friends noticed it and he’s warding the people around her… is it a bad thing?

Noticing her worried look, her friends attempted to lift her spirits. “W-we don’t think it’s a bad thing!”

“Y-yeah!” one friend added. “For some people, it can be seen as endearing!”

Y/N give a small smile, but was still conflicted. “But could it be a bad thing? If it goes… too far?” Y/N remembers what happened earlier today when Theo continued to glare at her potions partner till he left. His anger seemed like he would snap at any moment.

“Well… it can be toxic. Especially if he’s trying to push your friends away.”

“Remember my last ex?” one friend suddenly added. Y/N nodded in response. “Well, he was so jealous. Any time I would talk to a guy, he would yell at me and call me a cheater. It was suffocating.”

“Ooo, I had an ex like that, too!” another exclaimed. “And he would control what I’m wearing. Every single time we went to Hogsmeade, he would make me change my clothes. It was so weird.”

Y/N nodded, taking in all their experiences. Theo hasn’t done anything remotely close to what her friends’ exes have done, but they have been dating for only a few months. Would he become like that later on?

As her friends continued to talk about their exes, Y/N continued to think about Theo and his possessiveness. She also thinks of how she feels when she notices it, that exhilarating, tingling feeling. Is it bad that she feels excited when he’s like that?

‘Maybe I should set some boundaries for us…’

***

“Y/N?” Theo said softly, his eyes slightly squinted with concern. “Did I do something wrong?”

The two were at Charms class, waiting for Professor Flitwick’s arrival. Theo had been anxious the whole day, concerned of Y/N’s distant behavior.

After that talk with her friends, Y/N spent the following days setting boundaries between her and Theo. She started distancing herself a little, keeping the PDA to a minimum. She even forced herself to be unresponsive whenever he would be extra flirty.

Theo noticed this and was noticeably disappointed. Though his demeanor remained the same around Y/N, he was impatient and moody to others. 

Y/N felt awful. There were many times when she wanted to give in. Every time he hugged her, played with her hair, or give her that handsome smile, she wanted to jump on him and melt in his arms.

“No, of course not,” Y/N replied, giving him a warm smile. “I’ve… been stressed with homework recently.”

“Oh, I see.” Theo smiled in relief, his body becoming noticeably less tense. “I can always help you if you want.”

Theo placed his hand on hers, but Y/N drew her hand back. “O-oh! I have to ask Professor Flitwick something! I’ll be right back,” she rambled before rushing towards the professor.

During the entire class, Theo was silent. He didn’t whisper or joke around with Y/N like he usually does, causing Y/N to feel guilty.

But Y/N was resolved. She knew that Theo was the last man she’d ever be with, the man that she’d marry, the man her children would call “dad” or “papa.”

After class ended, she wanted to do something to uplift his mood, but he was already back to his normal, kind self by then.

***

Y/N’s plans were successful. After weeks of setting boundaries, they now flirted less in public, they weren’t cuddling as much as before, and her friends were around them more often.

She was glad that the two had normal boundaries now. She felt assured that their relationship would benefit from it, that they’d avoid the same fate as her friends did. 

But despite all that, she felt lonely.

Even right now as they walked the halls together. They were still talking as usual, joking and complimenting each other. But Y/N desperately wanted to hold his hands or wrap herself around his buff arm. Yet, she continued to deny herself from that pleasure.

Then, as if he read her mind, Theo wrapped his arm around his waist. From this, a wave of electricity ran through her body. She missed his touch. It’s been a while since he’s held her like that. It was as if he was claiming her to the people around.

But Y/N remained firm in resolve and drew away from his grip. She bit her lips, conflicted and annoyed with her actions, but she continued to walk. However, Theo stopped in place, his eyes looking down. His usual smile had dropped to a small, sad frown.

At that moment, her resolve had broken. She had seen him happy, she had seen him lose patience in others, she had seen him angry, but she had never seen him sad. It was immediate that this was something she hated to see.

“Theo-”

Before Y/N could comfort him, one of her friends ran up to her. “Y/N! Y/N! Did you hear?”

Y/N turned around to face her friend who looked frantic and concerned. “What? What happened?”

“Brian, your potions partner!” she huffed, gasping for air. “He’s in the hospital wing! Apparently, he’s been unconscious for a few days!”

Y/N’s eyes widened and her body stiffened. She didn’t know why, but she was scared to learn more. “R-really…”

“Yeah! Someone said he got in some sort of… freak accident! No one knows what really happened. Madame Pomfrey thinks that maybe a spell he did rebound, but- Oh, Cho! Wait there! I have to tell you something!” Her friend ran off and left the lovebirds behind.

Y/N was afraid to look back. She was inexplicably afraid of Theo. ‘Could Theo have…’

“Y/N…” Theo pleaded softly as if he was still sad about her behavior earlier.

Y/N quickly turned around, ready to comfort him, but he was smiling. His face was stiff, his lips curled unsettlingly as if it was forced. Y/N was a bit thrown off; she’d never seen him so stiff.

Suddenly, Theo took her hand and dragged her away.

“W-wait,” she pleaded, attempting to draw her hand away, but his grip became tighter. He didn’t respond to her pleadings. 

His eyes were dark and brooding. He seemed annoyed as if something finally snapped in him. When Y/N realized this, her skin was prickling with goosebumps as a shiver ran through her body. She completely forgot everything about her potions partner.

Theo then walked into an empty classroom, letting go of Y/N’s hand to cast a lock charm on the door. 

Y/N took a few steps back, feeling a bit anxious about his sudden change in demeanor. “Theo?” she asked softly.

Theo remained silent, making her more anxious. He finally turned around to face her, but he wasn’t smiling. He was angry. For the first time ever, Theo was angry at her. Y/N shivered.

He slowly walked to her, getting closer and closer till she had to bend her neck and look up at him. “Sit,” he said, nodding at the table behind her.

“Theo-”

“Sit,” he said, his voice firm and lower than before.

Y/N nodded, slowly backing herself to the table. She couldn’t refute him.

As she was about to prep herself up, Theo placed his hands on her waist and lifted her, setting her on the table. He then positioned himself between her legs, his arms resting around her waist. 

They were now at eye level, his dark gaze intensifying. Y/N’s breath shortened, feeling uneasy and excited by his intimidating presence. She was anxious about what would come next.

“Kiss me,” he demanded.

Y/N knew better than to defy, so she leaned in and kissed him. He remained stiff, letting himself feel her warm lips softly placed on his. He wanted more.

“Open your mouth,” he demanded, his thumb pressed on her lips.

Though slightly apprehensive, Y/N opened her mouth and he started kissing her deeply. His hands roamed all over her body as if he couldn’t get enough of her warm touch. It was passionate, a little rough, and needy.

Y/N felt a bit light-headed. “T-Theo,” she breathed in between their kisses. She brought up her hands to push him away, but he took hold of them and gripped them against the table. She knew she should try harder to push him away, but she didn’t want to. She couldn’t even think properly.

“Tell me to stop,” he said as he moved down to her neck. He planted gentle kisses before sucking on the skin. This sent shivers down her spine, moans daring to come out. Despite worries about their boundaries or if anyone would walk in on them, she didn’t want him to stop, and he knew that.

He continued to kiss her everywhere - on her cheeks, lips, and neck.  “Do you hate it?” he whispered lowly. When she didn’t answer, he bit her ear. “Do you hate it?” he repeated impatiently.

Y/N felt shy. She didn’t want to admit that she felt excited when he did stuff like that. But feeling weak in his stare, she replied meekly, “No.”

Theo chuckled, his eyes filled with excitement. H nestled back in her neck, biting into her skin. His bite was a bit harder than before, leaving a mark that will last for days. Y/N winced in the pain, but she was more overwhelmed with the twitching feeling in her stomach.

He then drew back, taking in the sight before him. Y/N’s face was flushed, her collar unbuttoned, her hair slightly ruffled. His teeth marks were all over her neck and ear. He looked immensely pleased.

“Look. It’s a matching set now,” he said with a small laugh, tracing his fingers on the marks.

When Theo was about to go in for more, Y/N placed her hand on his chest. “I’m sorry, Theo,” she whimpered, tears falling down her cheeks. “I’m sorry.”

Theo looked at her red, teary face, and his body slightly trembled in excitement. “You’re so cute,” he said, gently wiping away her tears with his thumb. His other hand was gripping onto his pants as if he was holding himself back from doing more. More to his precious, tear-eyed girlfriend that sat innocently in front of him. Instead, he caressed her head gently, waiting for her sobs to die down.

After a few tears and a couple of sniffs, Y/N rubbed her eyes and focused them on Theo. His dark gaze had turned gentle. 

“I-I’m sorry for being mean,” she sniffed. “I did it because I… I-” Y/N stammered, her mind racing to find the proper words to explain herself.

But Theo gave his same warm, knowing smile. “It’s okay,” he said softly.

Y/N’s heart sank as she felt more dissapointed. Of course, he already knew everything. After all, he’s the only one who truly understood her.

Y/N shook her head. “No… it’s not okay,” she said stubbornly. She then gripped onto his shirt and laid her head on his chest. “I shouldn’t have compared our relationship to others. I’m sorry.”

Theo chuckled before wrapping his arms around her. “Just don’t ever push me away again. And talk to me if you feel worried.”

Y/N nodded, her head still on his chest.

“Also…” he cupped his hands on her cheeks, bringing her face closer to his. His gaze was strong, a small glint of red in his eyes. “You’re mine. You can never leave me.”

Y/N shivered in excitement, electricity humming throughout her body. She felt her lips curl up in a smile. Pleased by her reaction, Theo’s eyes started to look dangerous again and filled with excitement.

At that moment, she finally accepted that Theo’s love for her was distorted. That it was probably different from what others consider as “healthy.” Some might even call it toxic. His deep, dark, dangerous feelings 

But she didn’t care. She was intoxicated.  His scent, his warm blue eyes, his rough, calloused hands touching gently on her skin - she couldn’t get enough of it.

Y/N nodded. “I’m yours.”

Theo stroked away a strand of hair behind her ears. He then placed his hand behind her head, bringing her into a deep kiss. 

In an empty classroom where Theo placed a lock and silence charm, the two continued to get lost in each other’s touch, making up for all their lost time.

***

a/n: just to clarify, this is not a smut lol. i think i was having a bit too much fun with this one. also, it's so funny how they forgot about the potions partner lol. but i wanted to emphasize how much of a daze she's in when she's around him. anywho, hope you enjoyed it!

here is part one if you want to know how their relationship started <3

[darkmatilda]

𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: in which one spencer reid tries to focus on work, but keeps getting distracted. first by an unexpected phone call. then by the way you start flirting with another agent right across from his desk. but in the end, why does it even bother him?

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐭𝐰: spender reid x diva!chemist reader, reader kinda threatens to poison him, but its not a threat, just their silly way of showing mutual affection <3

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 3.3k

𝐚/𝐧: anon's request. heyyy wonderful people, just letting you know that your request was the second-to-last in my inbox, so im opening them again! feel free to send me your ideas for the diva reader series, im already grateful in advance :>

Spencer usually gave out his phone number only to the people closest to him.

That way, he didn’t get unnecessary calls distracting him from more important matters, and he could be sure that if someone truly needed to reach him, they wouldn’t have any trouble doing so.

So, as he walked through the Quantico office, planning to track down Hotch—who supposedly wanted to see him—he was so absorbed in their case that he pressed his phone to his ear without thinking, without even looking at the screen, fully expecting to hear a familiar voice. Someone from the team, maybe.

Instead…

"Hey there, gorgeous."

A slightly raspy male voice. Spencer immediately estimated the caller to be around forty, judging by the subtle rustling sound—whoever it was, they were holding the phone just a little too close to their mouth.

Spencer froze in place.

His first thought—a wrong number.

His second—another one of Morgan’s pranks.

Just in case it was the latter, he didn’t hang up immediately. If his friend had planned something, he needed to find out what—so he could properly retaliate later.

"We met last night, don’t know if you remember," the man continued after a brief silence, caused entirely by Spencer’s confusion. "I hope you do. Because I sure do. Hard to forget a face like yours. You still there, sweetheart?"

In case anyone had any doubts—Spencer was not the intended recipient of this conversation.

He hadn’t gone out the night before, let alone given his number to a stranger. In fact, he had been in an entirely different state.

"Oh, sweetheart, don’t make me mad now. Or maybe you’re staying quiet because you’re curious how much I remember about you? Want me to remind you what you were wearing?"

Suddenly, it clicked.

After a brief second of pure disbelief, Spencer rolled his eyes upward, staring straight into the glare of the overhead lights. He blinked slowly.

His brain was exceptionally sharp that day. Even more so than usual.

Which meant it didn’t take long for him to put the pieces together. A quick mental chain reaction, linking scattered fragments of information into a single, clear conclusion. 

The man on the other end of the line thought Spencer was the woman he had met the night before.

Spencer had a few female friends, but everything—literally everything—pointed to her.

First of all, he was nearly certain none of the others had gone out last night. They had all been working together, after all.

Second, and somehow more importantly—none of them, except her, would have found it remotely funny to give his number to a random guy.

As a joke? Was that what this was supposed to be?

“There’s no need for that,” Spencer cut in sharply, before the man on the other end could start poetically or less poetically describing her outfit.

This time, the silence came from the other side, laced with clear confusion.

Spencer couldn’t stop the faint crease forming on his forehead, nor the subtle tension drawing his shoulder blades together. The entire conversation left a bad taste in his mouth, and it wasn’t just because the guy was wasting his time.

It was his voice.

Self-important. Smug. Wet in a way that made simply listening to him an unpleasant experience. The kind of voice that could turn an otherwise neutral or even affectionate word sweetheart into something damn near degrading.

Years of experience profiling people meant Spencer had no trouble picturing exactly the kind of man he was dealing with. And the distaste coiling in his gut only sharpened.

“For future reference,” he said, barely pausing for breath, his grip tightening on the phone, “I’d suggest double-checking the numbers women give you when they’re trying to get rid of you. Because this isn’t your sweetheart. This is the Behavioral Analysis Unit, which, for your information, is part of the FBI. And your utterly pointless, time-wasting phone call could be considered obstruction of justice, which, surprise, can land you several years in prison.

A loud silence followed—one that left Spencer with a strange feeling. Satisfaction, maybe.

The man cleared his throat, and Spencer would bet good money that there were one or two silent curses mixed in there.

“This whore must’ve given me a fake number,” the guy muttered, no longer speaking directly into the phone.

The sudden shift from sweetheart to whore was so blatant that Spencer couldn’t hold back a sharp, mocking scoff.

“Well, I’m guessing you didn’t think of her as a whore when you were trying to hit on her last night—”

He barely finished the last word before the line went dead.

For a moment, he remained motionless, the phone still pressed to his ear, analyzing his own reaction. He was completely taken aback by it. Almost immediately, though, he forced himself into a nonchalant shrug, brushing it off as nothing more than irritation at an unwanted call.

Work. Right. Work. He had work to do, he had to meet with Hotch…

…but he had barely covered a few meters when his gaze caught a familiar stride and silhouette crossing one of the hallways. And before his mind could even consciously make the decision, he found himself heading in that direction—despite originally going somewhere entirely different.

“Did you have fun last night?” he asked as her hand pressed the elevator button.

She didn’t look at him at first, though she must have heard his footsteps. It wasn’t until he spoke that she slightly turned her head toward him.

“Not too bad,” she admitted casually. Her hands immediately moved to their usual position, arms crossed over her chest, and a small teasing smile danced on her lips.“How about your morning? Any interesting phone calls?”

He opened and closed his mouth, not expecting to be so transparent. He also felt a bit confused by her enigmatic, calm reaction. The elevator stopped, and she confidently stepped inside first.

Spencer followed her.

“I don’t quite get it,” he admitted, furrowing his brows. “Was that supposed to be a joke at my expense, or that guy’s?”

They stood side by side, shoulder to shoulder in the small elevator space. He looked at her, and she stared ahead. She slowly shrugged.

“Maybe both,” she replied, inspecting her nails. Spencer clenched his lips, holding back from saying that she could at least spare him the ignorant, irritating attitude for once. “Or maybe I just wanted to get rid of the pushy guy by giving him the first random number I could think of” She paused, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. “And maybe I was hoping you'd scare the shit out of him with some long lecture, preferably about the law. Was I right?”

She shifted her gaze fully to him, her piercing eyes locking onto him with such intensity that denial was out of the question. He didn’t even need to answer—the flicker of expression that crossed his face gave him away instantly.

Her short laugh filled the elevator.

He always felt a little humiliated, standing there in silence while she laughed at his expense. So he spoke first, blurting out the first thing that came to mind—the thing that had been sitting there for a while now.

“Does that happen a lot? Guys being pushy?”

She gave him a closer look, maybe because of the unintended seriousness in his voice. He hadn’t meant for it to sound that way. Clearing his throat, he tried to appear more indifferent.

“Well, yes,” she said simply. Stating an obvious fact, a reality she was used to. “Every time. But getting rid of them isn’t hard. A well-placed conversation, and they run off just as fast as they showed up.” She scoffed. “But sometimes I’d rather just, you know, actually enjoy my evening instead of dealing with them. And that’s when the fake number trick comes in.”

Spencer caught himself listening with genuine interest. He was well aware of the effect she had on people—how she drew eyes just by existing, how so many of those looks were filled with nothing but desire. He also had the impression that, for the most part, she regarded them with mild disdain—or maybe even enjoyed being the center of attention.

He hadn’t considered that sometimes she’d had enough of them—so much so that she had an entire list of strategies to get rid of them just as quickly as she attracted them.

He realized he had fallen silent, lost in thought. The elevator stopped at her floor—he hadn’t planned on getting in with her in the first place, which meant he was now stuck pretending he was going somewhere else.

She took a step toward the open doors before his voice stopped her.

“Wait, you’re not even going to say thank you?” he asked. “I did waste some time on that guy. That was a solid lecture.”

She stood in front of the open doors, facing him.

“I have a suspicion,” she began, one brow arching as a teasing smirk tugged at her lips, “that you enjoyed it way too much to actually need my thanks.”

She gave him a small wave—just her fingers, really—before the elevator doors slid shut, cutting them off from each other. Spencer hated to admit—even to himself—that she had a point. Okay, a lot of a point, he realized as he recalled that fleeting rush of satisfaction when the call abruptly ended, punctuated by a hint of panic on the other end.

And maybe that was what ultimately decided it—because from that moment on, on the rare occasions he received similar calls, he always had a long, meticulously crafted, stern lecture at the ready. One that, just before the inevitable abrupt hang-up, sent the smallest, most satisfying shiver down his spine.

*

"You have three hours."

"I can handle it in two."

 "Do it in one."

Spencer remembered these words, muttering a soft shit under his breath. The massive stack of papers that not only needed to be read but also carefully analyzed seemed to be getting no smaller. The hour on the clock, however, kept ticking forward.

"Hm? What's up? Do you have something?"

He slowly shifted his unwilling gaze to the man he was trapped in the room with. Well, not literally trapped, but that’s how it felt. Dean Bradley, an agent who’d been working on the case they’d just been assigned to for years, knew it inside out—naturally, he had been assigned to cooperate with them. His current role, however, seemed to involve nothing more than pretending to write something on the whiteboard and occasionally throwing out a theory that supposedly brought them closer to the solution but, in reality, only pushed them further away. Bradley was incredibly distracting to Spencer.

"No... I just... nothing." Spencer replied rubbing his throbbing temple. That case had been exceptionally exhausting, he hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before, and the coffee he had just drunk hadn’t helped at all. "Nothing. Just...can you not say anything to me for a while?"

Bradley raised an eyebrow at him but Reid didn’t really care. Simply buried his nose in the papers again, reading, or rather, devouring the pages with his eyes. There hadn’t been the best atmosphere between them ever since Spencer had ignored his outstretched hand for a greeting. Well, that was because he had seen Bradley leaving the bathroom earlier, and even if he had washed his hands, he had immediately touched the door handle that everyone in the building touched, half of whom hadn’t washed their hands. Honestly, Spencer would have preferred to kiss him as a greeting. It would have been safer.

For a moment, Bradley was actually quiet. He didn’t stay that way for too long, though—just long enough.

"So, where are those lab results? Weren’t they supposed to be here by now?"

"They were. So, I’m guessing they’ll be here any minute," Spencer replied shortly.

"It’s taking a while. Maybe I should just go grab them myself?"

Yeah, please do, Spencer nearly begged. He even opened his mouth, but before he could say a word, the door swung open and a woman stepped in, moving with quick, confident steps, but this time with a bit of frustration in her stride.

Completely ignoring the man's gaze landing on her, she stepped up to his desk and dropped the promised lab results onto it with a sharp motion.

"Could you tell me," she began, one hand still resting on the papers, preventing him from immediately going through them. Because she was standing while he was sitting, her figure loomed over him, forcing him to tilt his head slightly to meet her eyes. Naturally, he did, his gaze moving from her hand with neatly manicured fingers to her beautiful face, her bottom lip slightly protruding as she prepared to speak. "When exactly did I become your secretary? Because I don't remember that moment."

Spencer didn't even blink before responding, so used to thir verbal sparring and the fast pace she always set, just like her steps.

"Well, maybe since you started handing out my number left and right," he shot back instantly. Without breaking his gaze, he grabbed the empty cup sitting within arm's reach. "And since you consider yourself my secretary, would you be so kind as to make me a coffee?"

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Agent Bradley watching their exchange with fascination, focused on only one side of the conversation. No need to specify which side. Meanwhile, the woman tilted her head slightly to the side, a certain gleam lighting up her eyes.

"Sure," she replied, to his surprise. There was something devious in her tone. Suddenly, Spencer didn't want the coffee anymore. "But I’m not sure I’d be so kind as to make sure those ten teaspoons of sugar you put in your coffee are actually sugar, and not, say, arsenic..."

Instinctively, he pulled the cup closer to himself.

"Not ten," he mumbled.

"Oh, my eternal apologies, I exaggerated a bit. Five?"

"Well, now you're getting closer..."

Their conversation, or rather their verbal sparring, was interrupted by a cough.

“Reid,” Bradley said his last name much friendlier than ever before, with a mischievous grin on his face. “When you said the chemist would bring us the lab results, I imagined, I don’t know, Einstein with his hair sticking out in all directions. Did you really lock such a treasure in the lab?” he chuckled. “So it wouldn't distract y’all?”

Spencer looked up at the woman in front of him again, who had only just noticed the third person in the room. Her hand slowly slid off the papers she’d been resting on, though it stayed on the desk. She half turned her body toward the new speaker, casually sitting on the desk. There was something hypnotic in the fluid, clock-like motion as she crossed one knee over the other. For a moment, he just watched, realizing after a while that he wasn’t the only one.

“Maybe I locked myself in there,” she replied. Her tone calm, too calm, as it always was before she’d throw words, like precisely aimed darts, at the other person. “So I wouldn’t have to listen to the same tired lines from agents with the same tired faces, thinking they’re being creative.”

For a moment, he completely forgot about the pile of papers waiting to be analyzed. He watched what was unfolding in front of him, a small smile involuntarily starting to form on his lips. However, it faded the moment he noticed Bradley’s expression. He had expected him to be shut down. Speechless, maybe. Hurt in that characteristic, pathetic way typical of fragile male pride. Instead, Bradley was grinning like an idiot.

“Wow, that’s a bit harsh,” Bradley commented lightly, not in the slightest bit put off by her words. In fact, the fascination on his face only grew.

Spencer couldn’t help but glance at the profile of the woman sitting motionless on the desk. Her gaze was now also more focused, following the person across from her. Her eyes seemed even more concentrated, intrigued, and entertained than during their conversation. He forced himself to tear his gaze away from her, physically making himself look back at the papers. Work, right, work. He had to focus on it, despite how distracted he was by their presence. It was, after all, natural. They were speaking rather loudly, right in front of him. He began reading the text on the page, concentrating only on it.

“You must feel like some princess locked in a tower,”

His ears, against his better judgment, picked up Bradley’s next words. He shook his head. Text. A quick glance at the woman’s face. Text.

“You know, that German fairy tale from the 18th century…”

Spencer, from his own experience, knew that info dumping wasn’t the most effective way to flirt with a woman. Especially when it wasn’t even accurate.

“17th century,” he corrected, unable to stop himself. Both their gazes landed on him, but he didn’t respond to either, keeping his eyes fixed on the papers. He was reading them, but couldn’t grasp their meaning. He started analyzing the same paragraph again, continuing, “Assuming we’re talking about the German version of that fairy tale recorded by The Brothers Grimm. Because, actually, this was developed from the French literary fairy tale Persinette by Charlotte-Rose de Caumont de La Force, which itself is an alternative version of the Italian fairy tale Petrosinella by Giambattista Basile.”

A long silence fell. The woman shifted slightly in her seat, pretending to be focused on her work, and he tried not to look at her face. Was there pity or amusement on it? Why did it matter to him so much to figure that out? What mattered was only one thing: they were bothering him. The two of them. With the noise they were generating, to be precise.

The sound that filled the room was probably just a long breath from Bradley.

“Wow,” he repeated, thrown off. “Thanks for the clarification, Agent Reid.”

“It’s Doctor Reid.”

He couldn’t stop himself and looked at her. She closed her eyes when a smile spread across her lips. She didn’t try to hide it or hold it back. It was simply there. Bradley noticed it too, his arms, which had been casually resting on his hips, sliding down along his body.

"Didn't you have some urgent documents to analyze?" he began, trying not to sound confrontational, but he failed. He sounded confrontational. "The ones you kept reminding me about every five minutes since we got here?"

Reid didn't have a sharp retort ready for that one; in fact, Bradley had hit the nail on the head. He did have a lot of urgent documents to go through, but for reasons unknown to him, he'd decided to engage in this pointless conversation instead. His silence only seemed to fuel the satisfaction on Bradley's face, which was broken only by the movement of the woman. Specifically, her rising from the desk.

"You could've just said we’re interrupting," she remarked, stretching one leg after the other, every movement fluid. "Especially if it's something important. Is it?"

"Well, actually, yes..."

"In that case, I suppose we're in the way. Shall we go, Agent Bradley?"

She must have read his last name off the badge pinned to her chest. Both Spencer and Bradley looked at her, but only one of them slowly cracked a smile. The other let out a sigh, pretending to feel relief, though deep down, he genuinely did—finally, he could focus on what he had wanted to from the start.

They both made their way toward the door. Unused to her quick pace, and still a bit surprised by the attention she had given him, the agent trailed after her like a lost puppy. As they crossed the threshold, she turned back to him over her shoulder, looking like a kid bragging about winning a bike race.

Spencer merely shook his head with pity, and when they both disappeared in the same direction, he scoffed.

He returned to his work.

After a while, he found himself thinking that perhaps he preferred their conversation to be within earshot, rather than out of it.

[yearningaces]

So...

You know how if you're (American) in another country, and find another American and all the sudden it's like 'Hey! Friend! Friend! That's my bestie!' That person could be from an entirely different state but all the sudden you're similar around the unfamiliar so you're buddies!

Does that happen with monsters?

Better yet-

Say you're a human, the only human being hired onto a large cargo ship that travels planet to planet through space. Most of the others you work with are so different in appearance and species you sometimes don't know even if some of them have eyes, or just use a form of echolocation.

Still! It's a nice job, you're given respect due to your status as (a deathworlder) a human, and you're settling in nicely the first few days.

There's a pack of aliens you haven't met yet though, The Aslai.

Huge creatures with a semi-humanoid appearance paired with patches of striped fur across varying parts of them. A maw that unhinges in three distinct separation points, fur tipped tails that vary with color, and slightly elongated limbs.

Of course, the Aslai are the engineers. They work in the sub-floor deck where the machinery and engines are stationed. Heavy creatures with prehensile tails that can lift just as much as their long, burly arms. Creatures made to be strong, and with vast intelligence, the Aslai are perfect for such jobs. Most times they flock to them, truthfully.

Like how winged and levitating aliens prefer jobs that involve them leaving the ship where they can move freely through open space with the right gear.

The first time you see one of the Aslai, they're walking with heavy boot steps to the mess hall. You both freeze in the hall though.

For you? It's got a human-ish face and you're experiencing one hell of a level of the uncanny valley effect in real time.

For Hesh, you look like a softer, mini version of the Aslai. Their tail flicks in excitement and with heavy steps they draw closer. A brighter fur pattern than their fellow Aslai, they're noticeable by anyone. They croon in a low gruff tone, reaching out and prodding at your arms, legs, cheeks, happily babbling in some method of communication you can't exactly understand.

It's when the other three Aslai suddenly appear with different fur patterns and facial structures, mimicking the first one that you seem to realize they're 'cooing' over you. Like if you saw a stray cat on the way home...

You're about to say anything when one of the botanist -a Threxacord by the looks of its mandibles- speaks sharply, "Don't you have somewhere to be, human??"

Technically it's right... You're not at your post, but you were told by your immediate boss you could go on lunch. You don't have a chance to explain that though, not when the second largest Aslai lifts you up and sets you on its shoulders.

"Don't talk to our human that way." The rough, crackley voice is a shock to anyone who hears it, but the pack of Aslai seem comfortable. You can only hand onto the horns atop it's head to keep in place as a different one continues, each on the same thought process.

"Drunum, shouldn't you be tending to your artificial soils?" It's more of a throaty growl than words, but the irritation is clear.

It's only when Drunum hisses as it retreat when the Aslai you're semi-surrounded by relax, looking over at you with bright, fanged grins. They seem to each be muttering variations of the same phrases.

"Oooh, little Aslai! Honorary Aslai!"

"Are you a meat eater too? I bet you're a meat eater-"

"You're warm blooded, that's great! So am I!"

"Look, you've got five fingers too! No claws, but that's okay!"

The pack easily brings you to the mess hall, deciding then and there you're one of them. Just a tiny version. Practically cousin species!

I was going somewhere with this

[mystellenia]

soft christmas morning with vi ❄︎

summary: you and vi wake up on a chilly christmas morning

content: nothing nsfw :] just stupid fluffy domestic vibes with vi and christmas morning brrrrr. making vi my stupid cutie pie little domestic baby i need her in my bed so we can bedrot Together. also i posted this for like 5 minutes with ellie instead of vi but then i was like hey ive been wanting to post for vi so how about this be my first vi post yay.

notes: tell me why i’m in my active era again (two posts within a month and a half). this reminds me of a fic i wrote waaaaaaaay back when for ellie so go check it out and smash that like button for more killer vids like this. and i double posted too i’m such an active queen. read christmas mirror sex with vi thru the link ;)

(wc 0.8k)

vi's soft snores wake you up, her parted lips pressed against the shell of your ear. her red hair was messy laid out on her pillow, and stray tendrils tickled the curve of your neck. you press a feather-light kiss to her forehead to not wake her up and brush your hand over her head to smooth the loose hairs out of her face. she stirs a bit, quietly mumbling into your jaw. 

"baby...?" she mutters. her hand dips under the side of her blue whale boxers, scratching at her protruding hip bone before coming up to her face to rub the sleep from her eyes.  

"yes, honey?" 

your small, four-foot christmas tree stood tucked in the corner of your shared bedroom, dim fairy lights blinking around the polaroids and small drawings you two had opted for instead of ornaments. a couple of boxes wrapped in adventure time wrapping paper—vi had insisted—sat beneath the tree.  

the sun had just begun to rise, and the dim light from the crack in the curtains was enough to make her wince and shove her face into your shoulder. "what time is it?" 

your hand fishes in the sheets for your phone. you find vi's instead and lift it to your face to wake the screen. "it's... 6:07," you read from her dimmed display. 

she groans, pulling the duvet over your heads. "it's too early... let's go back to sleep, please." 

you fondly chuckle at her grogginess. "it's also christmas," you whisper, your smile audible in your voice. 

she just mumbles, sniffling and smacking her lips. "yeah..." she rolls onto her side, having your body spoon hers. "wait..." she says urgently, as if just processing what you had said. "wait, it's christmas." 

"well, that is what i said, violet." 

"ohh my goosshh, it's christmasss..." she slurs, her enthusiasm quickly replaced by exhaustion. you press your nose into her hair, huffing deeply as you begin to lull yourself back to sleep. just when you think she's fallen back asleep, her morning voice cuts through the silence. 

"do you think honey baked ham is open on christmas?" she asks. 

"maybe. maybe for very last-minute christmas meals." 

"oh... okay, okay." a few seconds go by, and then: "do you think we could doordash a honey baked ham on christmas?" 

"christmas is today. do you mean today?" you correct her.  

she leans over and grabs the glass of water she got in the middle of the night, bringing the rim up to her mouth and downing the water left in the cup. 

"christmas is today. yeah, can we doordash a honey baked ham tomorr- today?" 

"yes, vi, if they still have them, we can get two—one for you and one for me." 

"hell yeah," she mutters. 

her body twitched with a chill, and she cursed under her breath at the sharp temperature in the room. "shit, it's so cold. the one and only thing i hate about christmas time." 

"the quilt my parents sent us is in the linen closet. you want me to get it?" 

she looks back with pleading eyes. "please, my perfect sugarplum princess pie who i love so much." 

"i'm gonna leave you to get frostbite and freeze to death," you joke while getting out from under the covers to walk the short distance down the hall. 

you reach the closet and pull the thick, padded quilt out from in between two other blankets, its tightly folded fabric hiding the full design of sprouts and ferns. shivering at an especially sharp draft, you pick up the pace and shuffle back to the warmth of the bed. 

shaking the quilt out, you quickly spread it across the bed and rush to get under it, pressing your body against vi’s.  

"i’m gonna set an alarm for 7 so we can order the ham because we're gonna have to order early if we want one. then once it gets here, we'll sleep until 11." 

vi rolls over to face you, a mischievious smile curling her lips upwards. "i couldn't think of a better plan." 

"perfect." you pull the freshly laid quilt up to yours and vi’s chins, nuzzling your head into your pillow. "good night, baby. i love you." 

"um, actually, it's 6 am, so it should be good morning." you can tell if it weren't so cold, she would take her hand out from the blanket to push a pair of imaginary glasses up her nose. 

"you're such a smartass. good morning. merry christmas, vi." 

"merry christmas," she whispers back. "i love you more." 

merry christmas to those who celebrate!!! happy holidays to those who dont!!! yay spread peace and love and joy to the world hooray

[iateyourparents]

hello! could you write johnnie guilbert fluff? maybe a scenario where him and fem!reader are spending a day together (filming a video, doing random stuff) just being two people in love and jake and tara tease them and call them a married couple

deaf, mute and blind | j.g.

pairing: johnnie guilbert x fem!reader

summary: you, johnnie and jake are recording a new challenge video.

warnings: use of y/n, bad writing and grammar(i’m sorry but english isn’t my first language)

an: hi, thank you <33 hope you like it!

pictures are from pinterest :)

“Hi guys, it’s me, Tara, and today I’m here with Jake, y/n and Johnnie.” Tara introduced you and you all waved to the camera.

“Hi!” you greeted her viewers.

“Today I’m gonna torture my guests… No, but I wish.” she pouted and you all laughed “Today, my guests will be playing into deaf, mute and blind but…they will have many challenges and quests to do throughout the day. But they main goal is to do shopping and bake me cookies! Any words guys?”

“I hope I get deaf, cause I don’t think I can go much longer with them talking.” you rolled your eyes looking at Jake and your boyfriend.

“Hey!” Johnnie gasped pretending to be offended, placing hand on his chest “That hurt love.”

You only rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide the smile that was forcing its way onto your face.

“Alright, so now they will draw sticks and get to know what senses will be taken from them!” Tara showed her viewers three sticks and then she turned to you “Ladies first.”

You took the one in the middle and immediately looked at written words.

“Yeah! I’m deaf today!” You did a little winning dance. Next one choosing stick was Johnnie and he got mute.

“Oh, so I will be blind.” Jake stated “That’s good actually, at least I don’t have to look at your ugly faces.” he smirked and you laughed.

Tara handed you all your things - blindfold for Jake, duck tape for Johnnie and earphones for you.

“Let me also add, that the person who won’t do the most of their mini challenges, has to take a cold shower on the street!” Tara smiled mischievously.

“Is this enough to charge her with domestic abuse?” Jake asked kind of scared.

When everyone was ready Tara started talking to the camera and you could only guess she was explaining to people what you gonna do and not long later Johnnie took your hand to let you know you were going out. You both helped blindfolded Jake to the car and Tara drove you to the nearest store.

She turned on the camera and pointed it at you and Johnnie. You didn’t see anyone talking so you decided to speak “I think Tara already told you guys but we’re making cookies so now we have to find all of the needed ingredients.” you informed and Tara pointed the camera to Johnnie who was gesturing towards some alley. He took your hand and started dragging you there with Tara going behind you but you suddenly stopped, remembering something.

You quickly turned around and jogged to Jake to walk him to Johnnie and Tara. He said something that made Tara laugh and Johnnie’s arms shudder in a silent laugh.

You really started to regret wanting to be deaf one, because not hearing anything yet seeing it, made you frustrated. Also, not hearing Johnnie made you kinda sad. But atleast you listened to your favorite songs.

You all went to grocery alley where Jake gave you his phone so you and Johnnie could find all ingredients for cookies.

Tara was pointing the camera on you all the time and you decided to speak from time to time in case she and Jake weren’t saying anything.

“So we will be doing chocolate chip cookies. Or rather we will be trying to instruct Jake to do it without hurting himself or poisoning us.” you felt a light push on your shoulder and you laughed seeing how Jake was struggling with trying to not miss your form while hitting.

Johnnie swatted Jake’s hand when he tried to hit your shoulder again and side hugged you while looking for flour.

“Johnnie, we need flour for cakes, this one is for bread.” you told him and he gave you a ‘what the hell’ face and you knew that if he could talk and you hear, he would be asking about the difference.

“Alright, I think we got everything.” you stated when you found everything and you all went to cashier’s stands where everyone was looking at you like at idiots, but that wasn’t anything new with Johnnie and Jake.

Tara quickly paid when it was yours turn and you and Johnnie walked Jake to the car.

When you were at home you quickly started to prepare kitchen for your baking.

Suddenly, you felt someone tugging gently at your arm and you saw Johnnie pointing ahead of you. You saw Tara pointing the camera at you all and you took it as a clue to start talking.

“Alright, so now we will be trying to instruct Jake how to make cookie dough, wish us luck!” you smiled sarcastically.

You somehow were cooperating well, Johnnie was showing you the recipe and you were reading it for Jake who then with your and yours boyfriend help were making most of the work.

When cookies were in the oven you didn’t have anything better to do so you sat on the floor in front of the oven and you were just looking at the cookies.

Some time later Johnnie joined you, sitting next to you and placing his head on your shoulder. You hugged him into your side and he gladly snuggled into you, kissing your shoulder.

You sat there for a few minutes, when Tara came to you with a camera and some bowl and told something to Johnnie and then showed you her phone, where she wrote in the notes that now you will be doing random challenges before you could take the cookies out from the oven. It would decide who is the loser of the video.

You all stood in the living room and Tara came to you with the bowl and you took one piece of paper.

“I’ve got ‘activity without your sense’” you read it for them and viewers out loud and then showed the piece of paper to the camera.

Moment later Tara gave you another paper, which turned out to be an instruction what your activity was.

“So I have to call a random contact and try to have normal conversation with that person. That will be hard.” you sighed “Can Johnnie and Jake help me? Like by gesturing?” You looked at Tara and she only nodded.

You looked at the camera and smiled “I’m actually kinda scared that they will gesturing wrong things and I will make a fool of myself.” you laughed and you could see Tara snorting.

Your challenges were done, it wasn’t that bad or at least you were hoping so.

Then you took the cookies out of the oven and tried them when they weren’t hot. They were really good.

“Teamwork makes a dream work, i guess.” you smiled at the camera.

Then you could finally take off the earphones and you were never as grateful for hearing Jake and Johnnie as now.

“God, it’s so good to hear people again. I missed your voice.” you told Johnnie who smiled widely at you and kissed your cheek.

“I’m glad to see again, but I’m scared of how many bruises I’ve got today.” Jake laughed while still trying to get use to the light in the room.

“Alright guys, they made it.” Tara smiled at the camera “I can’t with how cute y/n and Johnnie were today. Literally goals. You were like and old married couple.” she giggled and you smiled.

“So, who’s the loser?” Jake asked after few minutes.

“You Jake.” You laughed “You didn’t do any of your challenges correctly.”

“That’s true.” Tara smirked “You will do your punishment later.”

You stopped recording for some time so Tara could get all of the needed things for Jake’s punishment, so you and Johnnie went to sit on the couch while hugging.

“I really missed your voice today.” you admitted again quietly.

“And I missed talking to you.” he smiled “And kissing you.” he kissed you.