#got sappy at the end but that’s what this does to me

[reki-of-the-valley]

I don't do this often, and I don't plan on often doing this, but I've been thinking about it today so here's a few reflections I will share with yall about writing and creation. Just like a little "talking without knowing if I truly make sense" moment for me. My little Older Sibling moment for any little creative bug out there who's willing to listen to me for just a moment

I'm pretty sure the bulk of y'all know I've been writing and creating stories since before I was even conscious of my existence. Like, to the point where my parents would get fed up with having to watching my little stage plays that I'd put on with my stuffed animals and still remind me of how annoying I was to this day (long story short of that is picture a 4-5 year old putting on a 45 minute production that came with scribbled "instructions" only I could understand. And no, my parents were not allowed to leave until I was done, otherwise I cried.) But that means I've been here for a hot minute. I've been on this wild rollercoaster for YEARS. Which means I picked up a few things, noticed a few little things about it. And a lot of you also know that I have a whole ass degree in literature, which means I've also read a few things, studied styles and the effect of those styles on the reader. And like yeah, I'm not the most well read person out there, I know so many people who have read so much more than me, but this isn't a competition. I just know I've read enough for me to be able to reflect on my own writing. Which brings me to the writer that stands (sits?) here today

Y'all creating is a fucking bitch. It's a painful process, holy shit. Like it's emotionally draining, physically and mentally demanding, it's a fucking bitch. But I also wouldn't trade my ability to create stories for anything in this world. It's a bitch, but it's my bitch. And it's not always a bitch. Like it's never easy per se, but there are things that work better than others. There are some stories that take less time to be put onto a page than others, maybe because they're simpler or I have more of a vision, but they still take up time and energy. Everything takes energy, energy I don't always have, but I'm always willing to try to find. Which might be why I burnt out for two whole years, but that's besides the point. What I'm trying to say is that even if it's hard, creation is rewarding and I love it. And there's no easy path when it comes to creation. It's uncertain, rocky terrain, that's for sure. But it's rewarding.

It's rewarding, but it doesn't mean I like everything I write. And sometimes it's right when I write it, I hate it, but whatever, I still created it so that's worth something? And then maybe I come to love it. And maybe I like something, but then revisit it and hate it. I don't like everything I've made, I know, it's a shocker. And yet, I'm still proud of what I've created. Because it comes from me, from the energy I was able to scrape by. So here's my first thing I want people to remember: Even if you don't love it, even if you don't even like it, you can and should still be proud of what you've made. It wouldn't exist if it weren't for your efforts, no matter how great or little those efforts were.

Another thing is that you will improve. I know we're usually our own harshest judges, I know it's so easy to look at what we've created and go "someone would have done a better job than me" but fuck that shit. No one else can do it the way you did. No one can do your vision justice if you don't do it yourself. Because you're the only person who knows the exact colors you want there, the exact word that will tie it all together. And sometimes it's difficult to express that little thing you're trying to express, but trust yourself. Trust that you know what you're doing, even when you don't have the slightest clue. It'll work out, my dear. I promise it will. And if it doesn't, walk away and try again later. That might be what you need. Or maybe you need to ask for help. You can do that too.

Asking for help isn't proof of your failure. You're not a failure because you can't do a thing all on your own. And I know it's scary to ask for help, or admit that you can't pull everything out of your head, know every secret of the universe, but you can do it. And look, I've been at this writing and creating thing for like 20 years. And I've been at this writing "real stories" (which isn't a real thing, btw. Everything is a real story, but what I mean here is not being 8 years old and writing the many adventures I thought my pets went on while I was at school) for over 10 years. (because yes, I was that teenager that wasn't paying attention in class because I was too busy writing stories and fanfiction in my notebooks. Math? No thanks, I have to write this story about my favorite characters going on adventures and learning about the power of friendship!) I've gone through so much stuff, tried out so much stuff, that I think I can talk about. And I'm still not perfect. I still don't have beta readers for my fics. I'm the only person who edits my work because I'm still so scared of criticism. I've been writing for over 10 years, sharing my stories for just as long, and I'm still terrified of asking for help. But there have been slow steps towards asking for help, little baby steps, and I know they've helped me become a better writer.

Asking for help can come in many forms. This is going to sound stupid, but my first step towards asking for help was getting myself a dictionary. And you might be thinking "Lils, what the fuck does that mean?" and it simply means that I was so scared of correcting my writing, of having any sort of criticism, that I didn't even consult a dictionary. Because the dictionary had the ability to tell me that the word I was using wasn't correct. And I had to be correct. I had to be the best. (Spoiler alert, I was not the best and I still am not, though I do believe I am a lot better than I used to be.) Now, even if I don't have anyone but myself to edit, I at least have someone who can freely point out my typos or when a sentence doesn't make sense. There's no correction on the content itself, I can't bring myself to accept that directed criticism quite yet, but it's a step closer towards that. Learning to ask for help is a slow process, but it's a rewarding, I promise.

Now back to the improvement thing. I've been doing this for so long that I don't remember a life without writing. Writing has been a constant in my life, but I wasn't always "good" at it. If I reread the things I wrote at 13, I would want to burn those pages. Trust me, that writing style was atrocious. Just reading things I wrote maybe 2 years ago, things I know I was so proud because it was the best I'd ever written, I now reread them with almost an air of disgust. Because I'm always improving. Practice makes you better. And this goes for everything. It sucks to hear it over and over again, but fuck, it's so true. If you don't practice, you'll never improve. Because how are you supposed to get better if you never did it in the first place. So forget about that lousy "but what if it sucks?" voice in your head and just go for it. Because maybe it will suck. Or maybe it'll be amazing. And maybe it'll be amazing the moment you finish it, and then you'll revisit it years from now and go "oh shit, that sucked man." But you know what that means? It means you got better. And even if you look back at it and go "well that looks terrible," you can still be proud of it. You can be proud of that moment, because you created a thing no one else was able to make. You did that. All on your own. Like the amazing person you are.

Here's another fun fact about myself: I like telling people I don't know how to read. "But Lils, you have a whole ass degree in reading." You're correct. And you'd also be correct to day that I do know how to read, how to analyze, and all that good shit. So I do actually know how to read. But the reason I stuck to that whole "I don't know how to read" thing is because reading kinda makes me feel like shit. Or at least, it did. It sometimes still does. Because other authors write these masterpieces and I feel like I can never write something that beautiful. I'll never be as good as some of these writers. I'll never come up with a line that makes you close the book and stare at your ceiling for a solid minute, contemplating your life. I'll never write something that will appear in a "top 100 most beautiful quotes from books" list. But also, maybe I am just as good a writer as those authors.

I used to be so afraid to pick up a book and read because I would compare myself to someone who's had years and years of practice. Like, imagine being 14 and thinking you're a shit writer because your writing isn't as gorgeous as, I don't know, let's say Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice. I guess I'll never be able to have a character as witty as Elizabeth or a man as lovable as grumpy Darcy, so why even try writing? But I love writing, so instead I swore off reading. I didn't read a book unless I had a book report to do on it until I was... fuck, 20? I think the last book I had read voluntarily during my teenage years was The Fault in Our Stars. All because it was too scary to have the ability to compare myself to literal adults who spent their life writing. So I told myself that I would become an amazing writer without ever reading, even if the number one advice all authors gave was "read books." It's not the best advice I'd give anyone who wants to improve their writing, but it is good to read. It helps you learn how words work. But also, there's so much bad stuff (in my opinion, I've become incredibly picky in my reading) that some books are just not what you should be using to improve your own writing. I'd say they're more like bad teachers for people trying to learn how to write, but that might just be my opinion. Not that that's the point of this.

My point here is that you're not born an expert. And I hate failure as much as the next person, and if you know me, maybe I hate failure even more than everyone on this planet combined, but you have to try something to get better at it. You have to try the colors on your page, you have to make them clash to learn how to make them beautiful together. You have to be 17 writing "But when a man is in love, you can't a snap him out of it." to be 22 writing "All she knows is that Claude is beautiful; all she knows is that maybe she too is beautiful." You have to be 13 starting a story with "HEY! My name is Emma Oak, the grand-daughter of Professor Oak!" to be 22, writing broken love letters between lovers who just never had a chance. You have to be 19 and be proud of "Anyways, it was difficult to continue ignoring him when he was kneeling in front of her, his chocolate brown locked onto her face." to be almost 23, knowing the best you can write right now is "Byleth’s damp cheek rested against Claude’s hand, her beautiful green eyes falling shut as he wiped her tears away." You have to be 21 writing "For Reki, he was ready to do anything. For Reki, he was even willing to put his heart on the line. For Reki, maybe he would be brave enough to confess all the feelings that had been overwhelming him." to be 22 writing "For Byleth, he was ready to be on his knees. For Byleth, he was ready to bring the heavens down to her. For Byleth, he was ready to go mad. For Byleth, he was ready for anything. For Byleth, he was ready to end this war." And you might not notice the difference between some of these lines, but to me, they're jarring. Maybe you don't see the difference a year has made on my writing, but I can see it. I can see my own improvement.

So yeah, my conclusion here is that no one is born knowing all the secrets about a good creation. At 13, I was too afraid of people better than me, so I just pretended they didn't exist. I refused to read books. But now, at 22, I know there are writers who are better than me, and I admire their talent. But I also know that my writing, my unprofessional, unedited, unpeer-reviewed work can change people at their core. I'm not out here writing The Song of Achilles, writing "He is half of my soul, as the poets say," but I am here writing "How could he help the pounding in his chest as fair green eyes stared at him, green eyes that were just off from his entire world?" I know I have the ability to write lines that will stick with my readers, but that's only because I was daring enough to put myself out there. It's only because I was daring enough to suck ass at first. It's only because I was daring enough to think I was the shit, that my writing was groundbreaking even if it was corny and terrible. If I hadn't written those silly little stories filled with inconsistencies, I wouldn't be where I am now. And I know in a year, in two years, in ten years, I'll look back at what I'm currently writing, and I'm going to laugh because my writing will have gotten better by then. But for now, this is the best I can do, and I'm proud of it. I'm proud of how far I've come. Any artist should be proud of how far they've gotten.

So keep creating your art. Keep writing, keep painting, keep drawing, keep dancing, keep creating. I promise, you're amazing at what you do, and you'll only get better as time goes on. Improvement is a bitch to spot, but you'll see it. And be proud of what you've created. Because only you can create that. It's yours. It's all yours, and you should be so fucking proud of that.

[hoshifighting]

staff!jeonghan

WARNINGS: fluff, smut, fame problems, paris trip, idol!reader is a sweetheart with her staff team, teasing, hair pulling, makeup smudging hair destroying sex, face slap, paris sex.

staff!jeonghan who started way back when your career was just taking off. you were still fresh, the kind of new that had people curious but not quite sold on the idea of you making it long term. jeonghan wasn’t even supposed to be sticking around. dude was just a freelancer, floating between gigs like it was nothing. hairdresser one week, stylist the next, maybe even photographer’s assistant if he felt like it. didn’t care much either—just did his job, got his check, and dipped.

he was there the first time you came in for a shoot, thinking, oh, here we go again, another idol who doesn’t know shit about shit, and probably treats their staff like trash. honestly, he didn’t expect anything from you. he had his walls up like crazy. you’d been doing this for, what, a hot minute? and you were already getting attention, which just made him think, “yep, this one’s probably the snobby kind. won’t even acknowledge us when she’s walking by.”

but then you went and did the most surprising thing—like blew his expectations out of the water kinda surprise. you saw him—no, not just like saw him, but like saw him. took a minute to actually chat. asked how his day was, if he needed anything while he was running around fixing the stage lights or whatever. you even remembered his name by the end of the first day, which? yeah, idols usually don’t bother with that.

fast forward a couple months, and jeonghan’s still hanging around. he didn’t plan to stay, but something about you changed that. it wasn’t even the work, really. it was more like you made things different for the whole staff—hairdressers, makeup artists, stylists, all of them. you had this habit of, like, breaking all the usual rules. you’d bring coffee for everyone in the morning, none of that half-assed, "just for my personal team" bullshit, you made sure everyone was taken care of, because they take care of you as welll.

then there was that time when you randomly called up your manager one day like, "hey, i’m taking everyone out to eat after the shoot." and jeonghan was standing there, trying not to look too surprised, but inside he was like, who the hell does that? especially in this industry where staff usually gets a handshake and a “thanks for your work” at most. while you’re out here throwing cash around to make sure your team is happy. it’s wild.

he remembers the first time you handed out those holiday bonuses. it wasn’t even from the company’s budget either; it was straight up from your own wallet. like, your money. you didn’t even make a big deal about it, just casually handed out envelopes and said, “merry christmas, you guys.” you should’ve seen their faces—everyone was shook, even him, and he doesn’t get surprised that easily. it was one of those moments where the room just, like, collectively inhaled. there was silence, and then someone—probably one of the stylists—goes, “y/n, this is... you didn’t have to...”

and you? you just shrugged, all casual, like it was no big deal. “nah, i wanted to. thank you for taking care of me, you make part of all of this too.” you pointed to the stage.

jeonghan couldn’t even look at you right for a second because it was, like, damn, okay, she’s for real. that was the moment he decided he wasn’t just gonna treat this gig like all the others. working with you? yeah, it felt different. and not in some sappy, fairytale shit kind of way, but in a “maybe there are still people in this industry who aren’t complete assholes” kind of way.

“so you’re sticking around, hannie?” you asked him one day, catching him off guard while he was fixing up your jacket right before a stage performance.

he smirked, his usual cocky, nonchalant self, but there was something softer underneath it. “guess i don’t have a choice. you make it too easy.”

he was your go-to guy now, the one you trusted with everything, from making sure your hair wasn’t fucked up during press tours to giving you a reality check when you were stressing over the dumbest things. and he liked that. he liked being the one you leaned on when you didn’t wanna bother anyone else.

but it was more than that too. you were just different. the way you treated people, the way you made sure everyone around you felt seen, felt valued? it wasn’t fake. it wasn’t for show. it was you. and jeonghan? well, he wasn’t the kind of guy to stick around just for anyone. but for you? yeah, maybe he’d go the long haul.

jeonghan was always there, like a constant shadow that somehow made everything feel lighter instead of heavier. as your career blew up, he didn’t just keep pace—he matched your energy, your needs, every twist and turn that came with your fame. whether it was press tours, backstage chaos, or those ridiculous interviews where some clueless host would try to push your boundaries, he was always ready.

you’d be in the middle of a tv show, mind racing, and then there’d be a subtle shift. jeonghan standing just offstage, watching with a sharp, gaze of his. and it wasn’t like he had to do much—sometimes just a look was enough to let you know he had your back. like that time they tried to switch up your routine last minute, making changes that didn’t sit right with you. you didn’t even need to speak up, though. before you could say a word, he was already stepping in, throwing that effortless, yet somehow intimidating smile toward the team. “nah, we’re sticking with the original plan. my artist doesn’t do changes without notice.”

“your artist,” you’d hear him say that a lot, like a protective label stamped right over you, like you belonged to him—not in a possessive way, but in a way that made you feel safe. secure.

it wasn’t just about the work either, not even close. jeonghan made the loneliness that came with fame feel less suffocating. that part of fame nobody talks about—the part where you can’t make real friends anymore, where every new person in your life feels temporary, transactional. except him. he was loyal.

when you had those long, grueling days full of photoshoots and interviews and events, and all you wanted was to escape, jeonghan was the one who made sure you still had a piece of normal.

like that one time in paris. you were there for a fashion show, sitting front row with all these industry giants who couldn’t care less about anything but themselves, and jeonghan was right beside you, but afterward, when it was just the two of you, he was the one who dragged you to some random hole-in-the-wall restaurant down the street, far from all the cameras and flashing lights, ordering too much food and laughing at how terrible your french was.

“you know, you’re lucky you’ve got me,” he teased, watching you struggle with the menu. “otherwise, you’d be stuck ordering water and bread for the rest of the trip.”

you elbowed him playfully. “i’m just trying to be cultured, okay?”

“sure, sure,” he snickered, but the grin on his face was soft, like he was glad to be there with you. “leave the culture to me.”

he was there on the quieter days too. you’d be at home, no schedule to follow for once, just free. but that freedom? it felt empty when you didn’t have anyone to share it with. jeonghan got that. he’d show up at your place without even needing an invitation, like he just knew when you needed him there. sometimes he wouldn’t even knock. you’d just hear the door click open and his familiar voice, “you better not be working in there.”

you’d laugh, shouting back from wherever you were in the apartment, “i’m not, calm down.”

next thing you knew, he’d be on the floor of your pristine living room, surrounded by lego pieces because, for some reason, that’s what the two of you did on your days off. it was ridiculous, really, two adults crouched over colorful plastic blocks, but it made you feel like a kid again, like before everything got so complicated.

you’d crouch down next to him, watching his hands move, and without thinking, you’d wrap your arms around him from behind, pressing your cheek against his shoulder. it wasn’t even romaaaantic, more like instinct. jeonghan had this way of making you feel safe, like you didn’t have to be the perfect version of yourself all the time. you could just be you. and hugging him like that, clinging onto him like a koala, it was the only way you knew how to show him just how much he meant to you.

“you’re clingy today,” he murmured, but there was no complaint in his voice, just that familiar teasing.

“you’re soft,” you shot back, squeezing him tighter, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. his cologne was subtle but always the same, something that reminded you of quiet, peaceful moments, like this.

he tilted his head a little, catching your eyes “oh, yeah? not what you said last time.”

you puffed your cheeks out, crossing your arms dramatically, the sulk settling in. “i’m done being clingy with you, jeonghan.”

he grinned like he was waiting for that exact reaction. it’s almost like he lived for these moments—when you’d pout and try to act all tough, but really? he knew exactly where this was headed. you weren’t fooling anyone, especially not him.

“oh yeah?” he tilted his head, gaze dripping with amusement as he leaned in, close enough that his breath brushed your ear. “you sure about that?”

you tried to hold firm, but the way his voice dropped a little lower, teasing. you shifted your weight, crossing your legs under you on the living room floor, avoiding eye contact. “mmhmm. you’ll see.”

jeonghan let out a soft chuckle, leaning back and watching you with a glint in his eyes, like he was just waiting for you to crack. “you’re too cute when you sulk, y’know that?”

your heart fluttered, but you bit down on the inside of your cheek, determined to keep up the act. “whatever.”

he moved closer, a hand sliding around your waist, tugging you just enough so that your body leaned into his. “nah, don’t pout, baby,” he murmured, lips brushing lightly against your jaw. “we both know how this ends.”

and he was right. because, every time you tried to act like you were done with him, like you were going to keep your distance, it only ended one way—with you wet underneath him, a needy mess, begging for more.

like that first time in paris. paris had done something to the both of you. it was supposed to be a normal night, just you and him hanging out after the fashion show. nothing special, just another city on the endless list of places you’d been together. but somehow, that night went different. the second the hotel room door clicked shut behind you, you’d scarcely made it through the door before his hands were on you, grabbing, pulling, claiming.

“thought you were gonna keep your distance,” jeonghan had teased as he pressed you up against the wall, his lips trailing down your neck, making your knees weak.

you were already panting, feeling the warmness of him beaming off his body. “shut up, hannie.”

he chuckled against your skin, his tongue flicking out to taste you, making you gasp. “aww, so cute when you’re needy.”

and fuck, were you needy. by the time he’d pushed you onto the bed, tugging at your clothes, you were already whimpering for him, already soaked.

he’d dragged you to the edge, rough hands all over your body, pulling, squeezing, leaving marks everywhere. your hair had been perfect for the show, all sleek and done up, but that shit didn’t last long. the second he had his fist tangled in it, pulling your head back, it was ruined. thrusting into you from behind, his cock splitting you in half with each brutal thrust. “such a fucking mess.”

you’d tried to keep quiet, biting down on the pillow as your body rocked with every movement, but every time you let out a whiny moan, jeonghan was right there to mock you for it.

“aww, hannie’s being too harsh?” he cooed, as he tries to sound sweet. “hm? poor baby can’t take it?”

you’d only moaned louder, your body trembling as he slapped your ass, the sting making you cry out. he’d leaned down then, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, “use your words, sweetheart. tell hannie how bad you want it.”

you couldn’t even speak, just a mess of broken moans and gasps as he kept slamming into you, the sound of skin against skin echoing through the room. and just when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, when you were right on the edge, that’s when he did it. his hand came up to your face, smudging the glitter from the show as he slapped you—not enough to really hurt. he is a careful guy.

“fuck, y/n, look at you. such a pretty little mess,” he groaned, his grip on your hair tightening as he pounded into you from behind, relentless. “you gonna come for me? c’mon, baby, let me hear it.”

you whimpered, nodding, your mind spinning as his cock hit that perfect spot over and over, making you roll your eyes, drool, everything u had right of. but just as you were about to cum, he pulled out, leaving you empty and desperate.

“aww, no no no, not yet,” jeonghan cooed, a wicked grin on his face as he turned you onto your back, pushing your legs open wide. “hannie’s not done with you.”

your heart pounded, your entire body aching for release, but you didn’t dare move. he was in control, and you knew better than to push him.

“what’s the matter, baby?” he leaned down, his lips brushing over yours as he teased you. “too much?”

you shook your head, barely able to get the words out. “n-no… please…”

his smirk widened, that wicked glint in his eyes making you shiver. “please what? gotta tell me what you want, sweetheart.”

you whimpered, your hands gripping the sheets as you looked up at him, desperate. “please… fuck me…”

“good girl.”

[mrs-weasley-reid]

JULY REC FICS

Hello, my sweets!! I wanted to try something out to provide my full and utter support to all the amazing writers I've come across in the form of monthly rec fics (starting this month). Join me in giving them love through comments and reblogs. It really is a joy to hear how you're doing as a writer. It makes up for all the angst we write lol

I will be going based on what I've read recently and not by the date the fic was posted. And the number of fics will depend on how much I've read the entire month. Also, please respect these writers. Some contents are 18+, so MINORS should not be interacting in any way, especially when the authors themselves specify it.

— ✿ — ✿ ✿ — ✿ ✿ ✿

Spencer Reid

✿ a question unasked by @easy-there-leftovers ↳ SOOOO ADORABLE. I'm a workaholic craze gal, so it speaks to me on a silly level.

✿ missing the happy hormone by @lavenderspence ↳ I'm a sucker for Spencer fluff this month, what can I say? This fic Tina made had my waterworks going on for about a minute because it's so sweet

✿ desk duty by @reiderwriter ↳ All you have to know is the amount of evil laugh I made while reading this

✿ the theory of love by @ophelia-is-complex ↳ Genuine intimacy is quite a challenge to write, but THIS ONE, this one had me in a sappy mood

✿ like nothing matters by @cerisereids ↳ gagged and had to pause the reading so many times because HELLO— had me spiraling at work

✿ the devils disguise by @qlossytbh ↳ I said I sobbed a little bit, but I actually cried so much I ended up taking a nap and felt better afterward. It's all fluff, though, don't get me wrong. I'm just very dramatic when the red devil's on the clock

✿ not so funny by @reidmania ↳ Angsty, that made me wanna start a fight with some random twiggy tall guy. Sooooo good!

✿ cloaked in passions touch by @raekensluver ↳ If you don't like Spencer's hands, you're fucking lying to yourself!!!!!

✿ language of devotion by @gghostwriter ↳ I'm in love with reid, and this fic just had me stumbling back onto his lap like a good gal

✿ this req response by @mandarinmoons ↳ Sorry, I'm not sure what the title is, but it's so adorable and got me to go to work, so kind of a lifesaver tbh

✿ hallucinate by @gghostwriter ↳ Oooo, this one was so cute, hehe. Honestly, I lean towards Spencer fluff lately just because I've been too overstimulated with work this past month, so READ THIS ONE ITS CUTE

✿ it's golden, like daylight by @dudeitiskarev ↳ I actually felt like I was reader the entire time I read this. It's well-written and so adorable and something that should be framed in a museum

✿ much ado about nothing series by @incognit0slut ↳ binged it all morning, and I was whipped !!! It's ongoing, so if I have to wait, so does everybody else

— ✦ — ✦ ✦ — ✦ ✦ ✦

Aaron Hotchner

✦ choiceless hope series by @hotchfiles ↳ This series had me rolling over my bed on a Saturday. A lot of feelings getting played (mostly mine)

✦ beanstalk by @solardrop ↳ I kid you not; I was giggling like a weirdo when I read it. And that itself deserves the recommendation.

✦ too busy being yours by @hotchfiles ↳ Lari knows how to get a sick gal to giggle. I love bau!rossi!reader. I love Rossi as reader's dad, so I enjoyed it more than I thought I would

✦ ignorance by infatuation by @boneblushed ↳ Oh, this one was a nice snack while on my break at work. LOVED IT SO MUCH

✦ hungover by @basketonthedoorstepofthefbi ↳ Mmmm, such a good read! Plus Jemily is there sooooo

✦ from across the bar by @hotchscoffeecup ↳ Evil laugh ensues. A nice cuppa of some good ole kinky stuff

✦ doomed by @hotchfiles ↳ guys, I stopped my car in the middle of driving home just to read it, so it's THAT good. Honestly, I strongly encourage everyone to read all of Lari's works! She's my writer crush, if none of you realized it by now

✦ a bunch of cuties in love by @lavenderspence ↳ hehehehehehe this definitely did not remind me of that one older guy I used to flirt with who had an adorable younger brother that I babysat🤭

✦ schrodinger's cat by @none-of-your-bullshit ↳ angst on a Saturday morning is like taking a shot of soju before 11 am, and this one felt like it <3

how about you also comment your top 3 fave fics for this month to spread more love to our great writers?

[astralis-ortus]

spoiled

✱ boyfriend!bc x gn!reader

— it really is in the little things he does.

w.count → 0.5k genre → slice of life, fluff notes → chan referred to as chris, reader referred to as babe, teeny weenie kith a.n → been feeling sappy whenever i see chan, and what’s the best cure if not to write about it♡ ⋆ see masterlist

growing up, you never really thought much about relationships.

well, it's not like you had the breathing room to do so anyway—with your parents' strained relationship and the way education had taken over the role as your safe space, the thought about crushes, falling in love, and jumping from one relationship to another like people around your age had resembled more like some faint, annoying whispers from the nether world rather than something you needed to experience as a young adult. instead, your goal revolves simply around graduating, getting a good job, and sticking with that—nothing more, nothing less.

well, that's exactly what you've managed to do so far…

with some minor adjustments.

"babe, do you want—oh, you're about to shower?"

you stopped a few steps from the door of the bathroom, eyes finding your boyfriend's curious pair just beyond the bedroom door while your arms hugged the fresh pair of pyjamas and a fluffy towel chris had bought for you a few months prior, right before your first sleepover at his place.

it still feels wild to you, the way chris just popped into your life one day and somehow managed to stay. the fact that you let him? even wilder. never in a million years would you ever thought you'd walk into your first and somewhat of a serious relationship not long after landing your first actual job, fresh out of university.

"yeah," you nodded, repeatedly blinking your eyes out of habit, "do you need to go? i might take a while since i'm gonna wash my hair."

"no no, i'm good," he replied, no longer looking at you when he turned busy, fumbling away at the cabinet under his kitchen sink, "but wait, there's something i want—found it!"

the curiosity in your eyes turned into sparkles of surprise when you noticed the rather familiar bottle in chris' hand as he heads over in your direction, sweet pair of dimples decorating his proud, cheeky smile.

"i got that body wash you said you wanted to try," handing the green colored bottle, chris lightly scrunched his nose alongside the click of his tongue, "kinda unfortunate—i was going to surprise you with it, but you beat me to the shower."

it's at times like this when you feel like your life in the past year has merely been a series of lucid dreams—when he looked at you with so much tenderness in his eyes, when he treats you like you're his entire world and more, when chris went out of his way just to prove that he meant everything he whispered in your ears between the ungodly hours of the night as he held you close when nightmares crept its long and sharp nails around your neck.

chris' affection still feels like a fever dream, and you don't know if you deserve to be at the receiving end of it at all.

"you're seriously spoiling me way too much, christopher," you finally chirped a response, mirroring your boyfriend's nose scrunch whilst keeping your unspoken worries locked away, "but thank you. i promise i'll use it well."

"i know you will," the dimpled smile made its way back to your boyfriend's features, igniting the familiar fuzzy feeling in the depths of your chest, and its rumble only grew louder when chris leaned in, faint scent of vanilla greeted you as he stole a peck from your lips,

"you know that's why i love spoiling you, right?"

©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡

[ravengards-rogue]

i thought of you so often.

arthur morgan x reader.

✧ tags : fem!reader (gendered language, explicit use of she/her in reference to reader), children / planning on children, generally sappiness, fluff, au where nothing bad happens to arthur hdskjsdkfhsj.

✧ wc : 2.4k (???)

✧ a/n : arthur morgan.... save me arthur morgan....also not a super original thought but i can't Stop thinking about it.

✧ synopsis : a collection of love letters, all unfinished, tucked somewhere you aren't meant to find them. oh, arthur loves you more than you knew.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆

You try to keep out of Arthur's belongings.

He's owed some privacy, for one. More than that, you've never felt any reason to look into it. Arthur isn't a man of many words, though you catch moments of his introspection should you pry. He isn't stoic, neither. And above all things, he's kind. Really truly kind in a way that makes him different from other men.

You don't have any complaints about him is what you mean. Unlike the men you've loved before, there are no short-comings of Arthur that would drive you to wanting to investigate his own personal things. Especially something so personal like his journals, prior or present.

On top of that, you were there with him through everything. You were part of the gang and stayed by him when it all fell apart. It was towards the end of that that Arthur came to you near frenzied, told you his plans, his thoughts. Confided in you and no less than begged to go with him where he ran.

You loved Arthur enough to stay, and so things ended - and you ran. There isn't much his journal could tell that you couldn't surmise on your own.

It's been years now, and you've long since left that life. You live with Arthur quietly, peaceful in the moments with a garden and kitty sweet as sugar.

It's a good life. An honest, quiet one sometimes to the point of being boring. You rarely miss the action, though occasionally you'll take up a bounty just to feel alive and make some money.

Mostly though, you live as unassuming folk. No bloodshed, no wardens, no gunslinging.

Been talk between you both about having a baby, recently. Serious talk. You've made some money between here and there, and you've got a good life. You've traveled too. But it gets a little lonely, and you don't really get your fill with just Jack when John and Abi are ways away.

Before anything like that, though - you need to clear some space. Empty out some belongings and things collecting dust. Living in one place for too long creates all sorts of mess, you find. When Arthur is home to help, he does - but he's been busy lately figuring something out with Charles. Some business venture related to ranching that you know nothing about so far. They'll tell you when its ready.

Usually when you're tidying, you keep to just your things, or your shared things - but Arthur has lived more life than you. It shows in that big closet space filled with nick-knacks he has yet to toss.

You'd mentioned it to him not too long ago and he'd given you permission to go through them.

(A kiss to your forehead from chapped lips and hands holding your waist, Arthur hums in acknowledgement as you ask his permission.

"Ain't nothing I gotta hide from you. Do whatever you need.)

But like you said - you try to keep your nose out of his business if it's not necessary for you to be in it in anyway.

You weren't trying to look through his things, really. You started cleaning, worked your way to that last box. Up on a shelf in his closet, a little too high for you to reach easily. You made a misstep and dropped the damn thing. It barely missed your head as the whole thing fell open, and out came journals and papers and photographs.

You've always known Arthur to be sentimental, so none of it has been particularly surprising. A photo of wolves and him on a horse, the picture from John and Abigail's engagement. Some other scraps of sentimental value.

And then there was a journal. Not Arthur's journal that he's always using, but another you've never seen before. You know Arthur journals, seen the thing plenty though you never look unless he shows you first.

A journal with a dark brown stained leather binding, fallen open and your name scrawled out in pencil lead at the top of it.

The curiosity got the better of you, okay? Not your damn fault.

So you're thinking on it.

The fabric of your skirt is pooled out underneath you as you hold the thing in your hands, sitting down on the ground surrounded by things. You've stowed away everything else that fell out from the box after ensuring it was intact, including Arthur's journals. Everything with the exception of the one you're holding.

Some guilt eats at you. You don't wanna upset him potentially by having looked. Even if he gave you permission, looking in the damn thing is a little different. But your name was there so clearly, and well - you didn't think he wrote about you. Apart from here and there, maybe.

You hold the book out in front of you with a sigh, looking fondly at his name ingrained in the leather. You press your forehead against it with, resigning yourself completely.

"Lord forgive my pryin'," You mumble, hoping it's enough to absolve you.

Your heart feels funny as you let your fingers trace over the hard edge of the front cover, one eye shut as you start to open it slow.

The first few pages are nothing special.

A page outlining who the journal belongs to and when it was started, and some doodles of yarrow and oleander. The pages after that filled with mundane entries. About people he met or things he saw, all endearing to you. The corners of your lips tug up slightly.

You really love this man helplessly.

You flip through a few more pages, many of them blank before writing starts to appear again. Little by little, you find passages. You look to the dates up at the corner (though not all of them have one) and trace the timeline. This is from all the way back in Horseshoe Overlook.

It feels like ages ago now.

You look at a page with no date, and reading the writing in it. There's doodles of flowers and trees along the bottom of the page. The words are easy enough to make out - because Arthur has the most unusually beautiful handwriting.

There's some entries about you. At first, they all include your name in some context. Mentioned in the same way Arthur might mention Hosea or Abigail. The further you go, the less you see it. The more you become her and she.

It's a trend. The longer you read, the less there is about anyone else. Just you and all your silly idiosyncrasies tucked between pages. Something lovestruck and foolish lights its match in you.

Saw a body hanging at the tracks at Valentine. A gruesome sight. I told her about it and she laughed. Asked me to take her to see it. A strange woman, by all accounts.

You feel yourself smile a little as you continue to flip through the pages.

She joined me riding into town today. Said she had some business to attend but would not tell me any details. After, she came with me to purchase a new gun. I engraved a snake into it's handle, per her request.

Another few pages littered with drawings of delicate berries and waterfalls before you stumble across more writing. The more you flip, the longer the passages become you.

You can't tear your eyes away.

Rained today. Nothing too terrible or worth mentioning, except that she nearly caught a cold playing in it. I brought her coffee to keep her warm, but could not scold her further upon seeing her delight.

Another passage, this time written with messier hand writing. A coffee stain splatters on the white of the page.

Your heart tugs on itself. Swells about a thousand sizes. To think he wrote so much of your time together between these pages.

You read and read and read - and each passage is a little more mundane at the last. Some pages go on in vivid detail, but others are so short you aren't sure what to make of the fact he wrote them at all. As if such little details were important enough to keep in mind.

I picked a flower for her. I thought it would suit her taste. It was white with delicate petals. I did not know the name.

She wore it in her hair this evening. I find I can't stop grinning.

One passage on the next few pages, longer than the rest, catches your eye. From later in your time together, written when you were in Leymone. Near Scarlett Meadows and before the mess in Saint Denis.

After Arthur had been kidnapped.

I have gone on and on about the business with Colm O'Driscoll in many entries before this one. Yet, I find it difficult to forget. Many times I have come close to death, and still no experience lingers on my mind quite like this one. Everyone has done their best to look after me. For that I am grateful, though I do not care for being looked after. What use am I like this, I wonder? Perhaps, I should simply be grateful to be alive and in one piece, if a little uglier than I was. Alongside Miss Grimshaw and Miss Tilly, she has been by my side while I recovered. Such a carefree woman and yet I have seen her cry and weep over me countless times in the last few weeks alone. The decent man in me is apologetic for causing sorrow. Perhaps, it is the outlaw in me that feels some strange relief or satisfaction. Her fussing does not give me any grief. If anything, I find myself all the more endeared. Such a decent woman does not belong in a place like this. I hope she is able to go somewhere far away and live peacefully. I am not so shameless to want anything more. The time together we have spent, I will make sure to cherish.

Something painful and pitiful tugs at your heart. Even when Arthur admitted his feelings for you, he had started it on a similar tangent. You tell him often that you're the one who feels out of bounds with him. That a man as decent and as honest as him often feels like too much for you to have so easily.

A tear slips from your eye and you laugh at your own sentimentality, wiping it away before it can splatter onto the pages.

The further you read, the more sporadic entries become. You find that there are pages filled with sketches of you, but many of them are scratched out or half erased - like he did not find them good enough. Of your side profile, of your hands, of you pointing at a target with a gun. You feel a strange feeling of love wash over you.

Instead of concrete thoughts, you're met with Arthur's abstract. Subtle complexities and studies. There's honest tenderness in the way he sketches you and the words he chooses to caption each with. Lighter, thinner lines. Smaller doodles like stray daydreams caught onto a page.

You've never doubted Arthur in his love for you, quiet man he is - but it proves to overwhelm when presented to you in such a way.

You get to back pages. There, you're finally met with more writing. Except, instead of journal entries, there's the start of letters. You find your name at the top of the page.

Over and over. Love letters, all unfinished or scrapped. Written over and over and over, but not completed. There's tens of them at least. You've never received a love letter from Arthur before, though it's nothing you fault him for.

Now you're almost glad. You like this much better.

My darling girl My muse The better half of me, I must find some way to tell you all of what I think of you. It seems no words do it justice, I'm afraid. Still, it is in my best interest to try.

Damn that man.

When you find yourself starting to weep, you don't fight the feeling. You merely shut the book closed and set it in your lap before crying into your hands.

Such overwhelmingly happy tears. You feel off balance. If the whole world turned on its head this very minute, you're unsure you'd notice. What a decent, honest man you've come to love. What a tender one.

In the middle of your crying, you don't hear the door open or close. Nor do you hear Arthur's heavy footfall until he's in the doorway, with a voice worried half to death.

"Sweetheart, what in the hell?"

You turn your head to look at him, watching his eyes widen at your tear stained face. You clamber to your feet hurriedly, book dropping onto the ground next to you as you throw yourself at him as soon as you can.

Arthur is a steady enough man not to stumble when you do, though you can feel his apprehension. Eventually, he circles his arms around your waist. His hugs are strong. Bout strong as him and then some. An arm wrapped around your waist, the other crossed over your back all around your shoulder. Full pressure as he squeezes you tight, patting the back of your head.

"I leave you alone for a few hours. What has gotten into you, little lady?"

You pull back and and look at him, wet lashes and all, before leaning up to kiss him. Arthur meets your lips chastely at first before making a noise of surprise as you kiss him further. You use both hands to grab his face as you do, scruff scratching against your skin. His lips are soft, welcoming. He melts into the touch, so easily - blue eyes lovestruck as you pull away.

"You know I love you, don't you Arthur? More than anyone in this crazy world we live in,"

His face softens visibly. He smiles at you, touching his head to yours.

"Somehow, I do. Though, I'm wonderin' what the hell brought this on."

You tuck your face against his chest, feeling his laughter reverb through you at the way you cling to him so fervently. You sniffle as you talk.

"Found your journal. The one about me,"

He goes stiff, then silent. When you look up again, he's blushing red. He pinches his brow.

"Lord, I'd forgotten all about it,"

You shake your head.

"Ain't nothing for you to be embarrassed about. You are so wonderful,"

He pouts at you. Your heart swells. "You ain't helping with the embarrassment."

You hold him further. Hug him so tight, worried he'll disappear if you don't.

"I love you, Arthur."

"You already told me once, didn'tcha?"

"And I'll tell you one thousand times over," You emphasize, pouting at him. "Really. I love you,"

"I love you too sweetheart," His hand cups your face, thumb brushing along your waterline. "Don't cry no more. Spoils that pretty face."

"I'll try but I don't know if it's all out of me,"

Arthur laughs, pressing a kiss against your hairline. "Guess I'll just have to wipe your tears."

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆

[checkeredflagggs]

Subject of Interest

pairing: carlos sainz x fem!photographer!reader

summary: fans love carlos’ girlfriend and her unhinged comments and photography hobby

a/n: needed a slight break from the lando fic and I love doing these small photography based smaus. I will probably be doing these for more drivers — feel free to request someone you’d like to see!

a/n 2: fyi this is all google translate Spanish 🤷‍♀️

a/n 3: I tried to write horny for the first time and I think? It went? Ok?

princesa

liked by carlossainz55, landonorris, and 1,231,445 others

tagged: carlossainz55

princesa: mi amor, ¿sabes lo que me vas a hacer? Either put that thing away or put it to use. (My love, do you know what you're going to do to me?)

view all comments

user1: ahhhh love to see the princess back in action

↳user2: girl we missed you and your unhinged comments

landonorris: thERE ARE CHILDREN PRESENT

↳princesa: then leave? I know you have enough of a brain in that empty head of yours to do that

↳landonorris: I just wanted to congratulate my friend!! Why are you so mean?!?

↳princesa: niño…(Boy)

↳landonorris: nope! Lando!

↳oscarpiastri: seriously?

↳princesa: I’m glad he’s your teammate now

↳oscarpiastri: thanks 😑

↳landonorris: hey!

carlossainz55: Of course princesa…On an unrelated note, where are you again?

↳landonorris: not you too!

↳princesa: 🚪 here’s the door! Use it

↳landonorris: I’m gonna report you for bullying

↳princesa: try it twig!

carlossainz55: Hermosa…you tell me to behave but post that picture?

↳princesa: 🤭🤭

↳carlossainz55: 🥵

↳princesa: I’ve got the car waiting for you

↳carlossainz55: 🏃🏻‍♂️💨

user3: girl I’m begging you for just one chance

↳carlossainz55: No

↳user4: when you pull up for a competition to worship the princess and your competition is Carlos Sainz

princesa

liked by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc, and 1,975,245 others

tagged: carlossaiz55

princesa: 🏎️ 💨💨 vroom vroom — the cars may go fast but I’d like to take my time with you baby

view all comments

user5: congrats on the podium Carlos!!

user6: did she just…

↳user7: imply they fuck? Yes.

↳princesa: 😉

↳user7: girl Ferrari is gonna put you in pr jail

↳princesa: 🤷‍♀️ I look good in handcuffs

↳carlossainz55: 👀👀

↳princesa:😘💋❤️

landonorris: just once I’d like to open instagram and not be assaulted with you and your gross relationship 😠🤮

↳princesa: boo hoo does A HEALTHY RELATIONSHIP scare you

↳landonorris: NO

↳carlossainz55: Oh?

↳landonorris: it’s your horny ass comments! Leave it at home!

↳princesa: it’s ok Lando — someday you’ll have a girlfriend

↳landonorris: ive haD GIRLDFRIENDS BEFORE

↳princesa: you’re behavior says otherwise tbh

↳landonorris: STOP LYING TO THE INTERNET

user8: did you guys go on a bike ride?

↳princesa: Carlos did! I was sitting pretty in the basket while he showed me around town before taking us to the beach, letting my man treat me right.

↳carlossainz55: As you should princesa, never lift a finger when I’m around

↳user8: wow that’s so cute and so sappy

↳user9: this comment thread called me single in every language

princesa

liked by carlossainz55, landonorris, charles_leclerc, and 2,790,469 others

tagged: carlossainz55

princesa: thank you baby for the amazing break. I’m glad I got to spend some alone time with my handsome man. Next week it’s back to the grind — I just know you’ll be on top 🏆🏆

view all comments

carlossainz55: Princesa, I’d take you to the ends of the world if you’d ask

↳user10: same! 😭

↳carlossainz55: Not this princesa

↳princesa: I’d follow you anywhere you wanna take me handsome

carlossainz55: And you know I look good on top

↳princesa: i don’t know…wanna refresh my memory?

↳carlossainz55: I do need to get my cardio in today…

↳princesa: well let’s see how fast you are then…I’m waiting 😉

↳user11: YOU ARE IN PUBLIC

user12: I gotta say it…I’ve missed these horny comments. Insta just isn’t the same without them

↳user13: heeeeyyyy 🍑🍑🍆🍆💦💦

↳user12: eww no

charles_leclerc: Forza Ferrari Sempre!! Second half of the season will be ours!

↳carlossainz55: You know it!

↳princesa: Go Ferrari!

user14: no disgusted lando comments? What’s happening?

↳princesa: i blocked him for this post 😊

↳user14: 🤣🤣

princesa

liked by carlossainz55, oscarpiastri, alex_albon, and 2,982,122 others

tagged: carlossainz55

princesa: Ferrari might be all red but baby, blue is your color — I believe a congratulations is in order Mr Race Winner

view all comments

user15: what a race…a Ferrari, McLaren, Williams podium was not on my bingo card for the year…

user16: petition for Ferrari to officially change its color to blue

↳user17: girl like 10 different drivers dnfed

↳user16: but Carlos won!

carlossainz55: Thank you mi amor ❤️

↳princesa: No tengo las palabras para describir lo orgulloso que estoy de ti! (I don't have the words to describe how proud I am of you!)

↳carlossainz55: Conozco mi amor y eso está bien. (I know my love and that's fine.)

↳princesa: I do know how I’m gonna congratulate you tho!

↳carlossainz55: 😳😳

carlossainz55: Are you going to be my prize, mi amor?

↳princesa: oh baby you know it!

↳princesa: just wait and see what I’ve got planned for you

↳carlossainz55: 🥵🥵

↳landonorris: 🤮🤮

↳landonorris: why? Must I? Suffer?

↳princesa: i should have kept you blocked

↳landonorris: i just wanted to congratulate my friend?

↳princesa: do it on your own post and let me be horny for my man in peace

↳landonorris: you’re uninvited to my party tonight?

↳princesa: for what? You dnfed like first

↳landonorris: 👎🏻👎🏻👎🏻

alex_albon: congrats man! It was great to be able to share a podium with you!

↳carlossainz55: Felicitaciones a ti también (Congratulations to you too)

↳carlossainz55: it was good to see you on the podium as well

oscarpiastri: great race!

↳carlossainz55: You as well!

princesa

liked by landonorris, carlossainz55, charles_leclerc, and 2,556,223 others

tagged: carlossainz55

princesa: Winning looks good on you baby. You should do it more often 🏆

In all seriousness, congratulations on your season Carlos — you did fantastic this year and it was such a pleasure to travel with you and watch you live your dreams.

That said — I’m very excited for the couple of months we will have to ourselves 😘💋❤️

view all comments

carlossainz55: Princesa…I loved every second of this year, racing and traveling with you. Thank you for agreeing to my crazy idea and following me around the world.

↳princesa: oh my love…No había ningún otro lugar en el que preferiría estar que a tu lado. (There was no other place where I would rather be than by your side)

↳carlossainz55: No podría haber pedido un mejor socio (I couldn't have asked for a better partner)

carlossainz55: All to ourselves huh? 🤔

↳princesa: i know! Whatever will we do with all that time? 🤭😉

↳carlossainz55: Oh I can think of a few things 😏

↳landonorris: YEAH. GOLFING. HANGING OUT WITH YOUR FRIENDS. VISITING FAMILY!!

↳princesa: Oh, estoy tan contenta de tener un par de meses lejos de este niño... (I'm so happy to have a couple of months away from this child)

↳landonorris: Wrong!

↳carlossainz55: Since when can you read Spanish?

↳princesa: since when can you read?

↳landonorris: I’m reporting you again for bullying! And google translate exists ya know

↳landonorris: also! I’m gonna be visiting you this break

↳princesa: sorry not interested in a threesome

↳landonorris: NOOOO

↳landonorris: Carlos promised me a couple rounds of golf so there 😝

↳carlossainz55: it was a moment of weakness

user18: oh to have a champagne soaked Carlos Sainz sprint over to me to kiss me senseless after a spectacular race,,,

↳princesa: it’s a great experience! But get your own — this one is mine

↳user18: girl we’ve seen all your comments this year. We know

↳princesa: just like reminding people they can look but not have 😊

user19: i know everyone has been focusing on their…horniness this year but damn she must love him too. To quit her job just to follow him across the world…

↳princesa: it was a scary thought at first but I’m so glad I did it

↳carlossainz55: I am as well

↳landonorris: I’m not. Go away

↳princesa: I’m gonna be honest with you. We get worse with distance — you got off light this year

↳landonorris: nooooooooooooooo

↳user20: and they’re back to their regular programming

user21: my favorite part of the season is now knowing Lando Norris is the type of person to clutch his pearls at the sight of an ankle…

↳user22: right? Not what i expected

↳landonorris: I AM NOT!

↳user22: sure Jan

↳landonorris: I CAN HANDLE SEX JUST FINE THEIR JUST BEING MEAN TO ME

↳user21: ok grandpa, let’s get you back to bed

↳landonorris: NOT YOU GUYS TOO…

carlossainz55

liked by princesa, landonorris, user, and 4,822,445 others

tagged: princesa

carlossainz55: No more Ferrari PR jail, no more hiding these in my camera roll. My gorgeous gorgeous girl 🥵🥵 I’m so glad to be able to call you mine

view all comments

princesa: well let’s not completely get rid of the jail…I do quite like the handcuffs ☺️

↳carlossainz55: I could be persuaded

↳princesa: meet me in five?

↳carlossainz55: 🏃🏻‍♂️💨

user23: oh my god you guys were being tame???

↳princesa: oh absolutely

↳user23: oh my god…

user24: can Carlos fight? Like seriously?

↳carlossainz55: Yes

↳user25: I think if a group of us get together we could take him

↳carlossainz55: You’d be wrong

↳princesa: sorry girls guys and nonbinary pals — I am a one man girl

↳princesa: and I think I’d have to report you to someone

↳user25: you know what? That’s fair

↳used24: and hot!?! Gotta love that kind of loyalty

landonorris: I’m gonna deactivate my account

↳princesa: I didn’t think I’d get my Christmas present so early!

↳landonorris: 😑😑

↳carlossainz55: I’ll give you a Christmas present 🎁

↳princesa: a big one?

↳carlossainz55: Oh you know it

↳landonorris: NOT ON MY COMMENT THREAD. GO AWAY

user26: Sad to see Carlos leave Ferrari but good god am I excited to see the more unhinged version of him in Williams…

↳user27: thank god I’m not the only one

[rogueddie]

Stitched Together T | 698 words Prompt for @steddielovemonth: Love is sitting in comfortable silence together doing their own thing

"Do you still have my vest?"

"Hello to you too?" Steve says, raising his eyebrows when Eddie takes that as his cue to push past Steve, into his house.

He quickly kicks the door behind him, curling an arm around Steve's waist to reel him into a quick kiss. "Hello! My old vest- you got it?"

"I do- I haven't been able to get the blood out yet."

"Oh, I don't want it," Eddie waves him off, already halfway up the stairs. "Come on, I need to see it!"

"What- Eddie!"

Steve hurries up the stairs after Eddie, who takes them two steps at a time. He hovers at Steve's bedroom door though, rocking back and forth on his heels, waiting.

It's then that Steve noticed the plastic bag that he's holding.

"You gonna explain?"

"In a minute! I need to see my old vest first."

"It's in my closet," Steve explains, leading him into his room and pointing.

Eddie immediately jumps over to the closet, glancing back at Steve before he opens it to make sure it's ok for him to dig through it.

It doesn't take him long to find the vest, face splitting into a grin as he pulls it out.

"Perfect."

"So... what's going on?"

"I'm gonna make a new one. Wanted to remind myself how this bad boy is layed out first."

"Oh?"

"I'll only need it for, like, a few hours. I can get it back to you by the end of the day."

"What? Wh- you brought your stuff here."

"Yeah, I'm gonna stitch it together in the van. I was thinking about going out to the quarry."

"You could- I mean, if you want to, you could just... do it here? If you want to. I'm just gonna be baking today anyway."

"Hell yeah. Any excuse to spend more time with you is a great idea in my book."

Eddie follows him downstairs, setting up on the sofa in the living room, while Steve continues past him into the kitchen.

Steve pokes his head back in after a minute.

"You didn't want to talk, did you?"

"I know how you get when you bake," Eddie reminds him. "I'm ok here. If I need anything, I know where everything is."

"You could ask-"

"No, I couldn't. It's ok, babe. Really. It's nice to just... know you're here."

"Oh. Really?"

"Really."

Steve goes back into the kitchen, but it's not long before he's washed the side, the bowls and utensils he used. All he needs to do is wait for his food to bake.

He wanders back into the living room, sitting on one of the arm chairs.

Eddie barely glances up, focused on his task.

He doesn't seem bothered that Steve is staring, so he just... watches.

It's surprisingly nice. Comforting.

He can see how much care Eddie is putting into each patch, taking his time when pinning them in place and being careful with each stitch.

By the time the kitchen timer goes off, Eddie has only managed to stitch two patches on and started on the backpatch.

He follows Steve into the kitchen once he's done putting his things away, just in time for him to start plating.

"Looks delicious."

"Mhmm," Steve grins. He pulls Eddie closer with a hand on his hip as soon as he's within reach. "You?"

"Got two done in the time it usually takes me to stitch on one, so, I consider it a win."

"Good."

He tries to lean in, pepper Eddie's neck with kisses until he caves the way he always does, easily following Steve up to-

"We should do this more often," Eddie continues. "Hanging out like this. It's... nice. It really is."

"Yeah," Steve agrees, reluctantly pulling back. He can't bite back his sappy smile though. "You're gorgeous when you get into your passions."

"Careful, Harrington. Keep talking like that and people might start thinking you're in love with me."

"Mmm, I don't know, they might be into something."

His attempt to kiss Eddie is ruined by how much they're both laughing.

Steve is pretty sure it's one of the best days that he's ever been fortunate enough to live.

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

aaron hotchner x jacks nanny/babysitter

she’s got a crazy ex that stalked and threatened her so she moved far away to live a simple, under the radar life and started working for hotch. he knows her situation and does his best to look out for her, maybe she’s like a live in nanny ? neither of them is bold enough to make a move first until her ex finds her and hotch and the team race to save her. ends with love confessions and all the sappy stuff

could be a one shot or a short lil series i’m sure whatever you write will be amazing !

༉‧₊˚. 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐨-𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 || 𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫

— pairing: aaron hotchner x plus size babysitter!reader

— summary: your new life as a live-in nanny was wonderful, and with your dark past behind you, there was nothing that could ruin this. but as they say, what goes around comes around.

— warnings: heavily detailed violence BEWARE, surprisingly light angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, physical hurt/comfort, mutual pining, abusive ex's :[, guns, and a horribly written action/fight scene (forgive me).

— wc: 1965

⋆ a/n: okay this is a heavy fic so beware once more, but aside from that this takes a fully turn! i don't really have anything else to say besides enjoy!

masterlist | AO3

“Backpack? Check. Lunchbox? Check. Shoes are tied? Check.” 

You placed your hands on your hips triumphantly, a proud smile on your face as you examined the little boy. 

Being a live-in nanny came with being organizational and making sure that Jack was ready for school everyday without fail. It wasn’t like Aaron was super strict on you; he understands when you have your days where things are a bit out of place, but honestly it was a personal preference, and totally not because you have a big fat crush on the FBI agent.

You had been very skeptical about your babysitting position at first because of your ex who was absolutely bat shit crazy. It was a situation you had barely escaped from, and it had taken almost everything in you to get where you were now, so you were a little afraid of men in general. But Aaron was kind, and welcoming, and fatherly, someone that you felt safe with.

And then, you fell in love.

It had scared the shit out of you of course, but now it was a feeling that you welcomed with open arms, even if you couldn’t act on it. 

Your phone began to ring as you searched for the car keys, the contact name read ‘Aaron <3’.

“Morning!” You greeted with a smile as you picked up. “Good morning. How are you guys?” The older man asked. “We're doing just fine, as always,” You successfully found the keys. “How are things?” You knew better than to ask how he was, because if you had the kind of job that he did, there was no way you could answer positively. 

“We pretty much have everything we need, so we’ll probably be able to wrap this case up early.” 

“Oh Aaron, that's great!” You cheer happily and make your way back to where Jack was waiting for you. “You ready to go, little man?” Jack looks up at you from his toys. “Is that daddy on the phone?”

“Yeah buddy, you wanna say hi?” 

“Yes!” Jack’s answer was full of excitement, and you can’t help but smile. “As much as I enjoy talking to you, it looks like I’m handing you over.” You swear you could hear Aaron chuckle.

Yeah, this was a life that you could get used to.

Having the house to yourself was weird.

With Jack away at his aunt’s for the weekend, it was strangely quiet due to the emptiness of the child’s presence. You suppose you’re grateful for the break even though taking care of Jack really isn’t as tiring as one might think. 

Despite Aaron rarely being home, he’s managed to raise the boy well when he could, and it’s honestly very admirable. It’s one of the many things that made you fall in love with him. You gaze down into the wine glass at the thought, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

Ugh, why does love make you such a loser?

Your bashful train of thought was stopped by a suspicious thump coming from the back of the house. Your smile dropped and a feeling of anxiety and worry twisted in your gut as you grabbed your phone that was lying on the kitchen counter.

You’re quick to dial Aaron’s number and your fingernail finds itself in your mouth as you chew on it anxiously. It’s an old habit, one that you had picked up back in your old relationship.

“Hello?” Rasped Aaron. 

You knew he had just recently flown in from wherever he was because you could hear the foot traffic of everyone grabbing their luggage from the plane’s storage.

“Hey,” Your greeting was nervous and it was something that Aaron easily picked up on. “What’s wrong? Are you alright?” He asks with a furrowed brow. “Yeah, just um - I’m just hearing some weird things so I just wanted to know when you think you might be getting home.” I miss you.

“Honey what type of weird things?” Before you were able to answer, there was a loud crashing sound. You instantly dropped to the floor to hide behind the counter; you cradled the phone to your ear, “Okay uh - change of claim,” You attempted to joke. “Someone is most definitely in the house.”

Aaron tries not to panic at the way his insides turn cold, “You remember what to do, right?” He asks with a hardened voice. You gulp, stretching slightly to peer over the marble. You stare out into the darkness and a frightened shiver shoots up your spine. 

“Get to your room and enter the safe.” You reiterated what he had told you almost a year ago when you had first moved in. You’ve never shot a gun before but tonight might be the night where you learn how too.

“That’s right, and do you remember the code?” 

As you went to answer him, you were snatched up by your hair and a scream rang out and into the phone. Even though you weren’t on speaker the others that were currently standing outside with Aaron could hear it.

Aaron desperately calls out your name, and with your silence he takes off without any explanation, but his team knows to follow close behind.

“So, this is what you’ve been doing since you tried to leave me?!”

You cried out as another blow was delivered to your gut but a heavy boot. Your lungs burned and there were tears streaming down your face. He had pulled you so hard over the counter that it made your scalp burn, a blistering headache beginning to form at the base of your skull.

“Fuck you!” You spat as you attempted to prop yourself up on your elbows. 

There was a fine line between anger and fear, and this was one of those moments where they blend together. If you ended up dying tonight, at least you didn’t go down in vain.

This time he punched you in the face before snatching you up by your arms. There was a metallic taste in your mouth, a bruise already developing near your eye. “Why’d you leave me, huh?! We had a good thing going and you just… you just ruined it!”

“I didn’t ruin shit asshole!” You screamed and pushed at him but it was no use. “We were gonna get married but you… but you wanted to play house with an old man, really?!”

“You’ve been watching me.” You said in disbelief. It made your stomach twist in nausea and horror at the thought of him watching Jack, what he could’ve done to him. You had actively put the man you loved kid in danger and it devastated you.

“I had no choice!”

“You’re fucking crazy!”

“Put your hands where I can see them.” Aaron’s voice rang out throughout the house.

Before you knew it you were spun around with a gun to your head, his arm locked against your neck, faintly strangling you.

“Aaron!” You called out in relief, but it turned into a grunt as you tugged further into your ex’s chest.

Aaron’s gun was raised steadily, his eyes focused on your attacker, but he doesn’t hesitate to cast you a reassuring look. When he sees your bloody and bruised face his jaw tightens, the vein in his neck popping and visible through his skin.

“Boyfriend to the rescue, huh?” Your ex sneers into your cheek. You shudder. 

“Put the gun down.” Aaron continues to coax, and out the corner of your eye you can see Morgan approaching through the darkness. 

“Why do you want to save this slut? Don’t tell me you’ve already -” A shot rings out into the fair followed by a scream of pain.

Your ex collapses to the ground, cradling the gunshot wound in his knee as blood spills through his fingers. Aaron was the one that pulled the trigger and Morgan is already in the kitchen by the time he’s tugging you away and into his arms.

“Oh God.” You finally cried. “You came, you came…” His arms are wound tightly around you, purposefully tucking your face into his chest. “I’m here, I’m here.” He shushes and rocks you side to side in order to try and lull you.

Aaron – softly – orders you to sit down while he cleans up the blood when the rest of the team has already left.

You can’t help but watch him from where you’re sitting on the couch with his sleeves of his white button up rolled up and his hands gloved. “I’m sorry.” You decide to say, because you really were. “I’m sorry for everything.” There was so much more you wanted to say, but you felt your throat tighten with unshed tears.

“No, don’t apologize.” He says softly, abandoning the rag that he was using to scrub up said blood. “No Aaron you don’t understand. I put you and Jack in danger because of my bullshit and I thought that I had put it all behind me and I don’t -” 

“Stop.” It’s a bit firmer this time. “I knew exactly what I was getting myself into when I offered you to live with me and my son. Nothing that has occurred tonight has swayed my trust or opinion about you, you know that, right?”

“Right.” His hand holds your cheek and strokes the soft skin of it. “Good.”

Your eyes flicker down to his lips before peering back into his eyes, “If I asked you to kiss me, would you?”

“I’m not sure.”

“I promise this isn’t like a trauma bond thing. I’ve liked you for as long as I’ve worked for you and I didn’t want to tell you because I have nowhere else to go if you say no. Plus,” You sigh, “I just don’t want to make things difficult or uncomfortable for you.”

“You could never do that, feelings reciprocated or not.” He reassures.

“Well are they?”

He grins at your question, “I’d be an idiot not to feel the same way.” You laugh and he leans forward to join your lips together.

A warm feeling spreads in your gut and you knew that this is what love was supposed to feel like.

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @celtic-crossbow @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @alixwriter @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus @khxna @moonysreid

[morgana-ren]

i love angst, and i love your writing, but please, PLEASE, i beg you, could you write some hope of tav ever returning now that the imbecile, has realised the error of his ways 🥺😭 (either way, thank you so much, for all your astarion writtings, it has made me feel things, the angst is real and my masochistic heart loves it🥲)

First part of the story HERE

Common complaint I got on that one! So I fixed it just for y'all. This ending is much less sad and much more sappy, so here is the comfort you need after all that angst!

"Darling, will you smile for me? Just once more. Please--"

He feels her cheeks in his palms, the soft skin against his battle-hardened callouses. Desperation cradles his unbeating heart, and for a moment, the emotion is far too much. A searing flame after centuries of frost. A bonfire in a blizzard. It hurts-- it burns--

"My love, I just need you to--"

"Anything my lord, anything at all for you. Simply command me and I will do anything you ask."

"No, I can't-- I-- I won't do it. I won't. I won't!"

"My lord?"

Her head cocks, turning slowly to look upon him, but her eyes-- they are empty; beetle-black and hollow. Her smile is uncanny as a painted doll, her movements disjointed and inhuman. Her teeth are stained crimson with blood, dripping, dripping, ever dripping down, never swallowed, only pooling.

She is light as a feather as she slips away from him, her skin marbling into a sickly gray before ash spreads across her body as a disease, smearing her form into nothingness. Only her face is left untouched, pretty as porcelain, unflinching and unfalling save a small crack that splinters down from her forehead down to her eyes, revealing inky black abyss beneath.

"My lord-- Oh, my tender, vicious lord. I can feel your anguish-- your hunger. Devour me to be whole once more--"

Her blood smells of rot and she--

She is too far gone to save. Too far gone to ever be saved.

"I won't!"

Whirlwind. Pain. Confusion and dread and seeping anguish. A maelstrom of rage and all-consuming despair swelling from within his soul—

—his soul?

The world around him falls away, a wicked tornado thrashing him about, his mind howling in the eternal winds--

And suddenly he is in a chair.

Not a throne. A chair— and a rather uncomfortable one at that.

"What in the hells—"

His vision spins, nausea curling his gut into a wicked tide of sickness barely restrained by his teeth. He tastes stale blood crawling up his throat, threatening to overturn onto the faded rug beneath him.

"Did you see what you wished for, little spawn?"

The voice takes him by surprise. It is not hers, but another, less familiar voice. The wailing animal in his head retreats to a dull roar as his memory creeps back. A brightly colored tent assaults his vision, piecemeal rugs and odd, foreign trinkets abound on makeshift shelves, and before him sits a strange old woman, hood pulled heavy over her straggling gray hair.

"I-- What was that?"

He sees her cracked, aging lips upturn, gnarled hands placed protectively over a strange orb on the table touching his knees. "I have shown you your future, vampling. Was it to your liking?" Panic rises within his stomach again, and though he does not breathe, he clutches his chest. The smell of incense clogs his nostrils and again, the wave of sick threatens to spill forth. Wretched taste of metallic, aged blood sits heavy on his tongue, all sensation too much-- all of it too much.

"No-- No, that cannot be it!"

"This is your path, Pale Elf. The road you walk. The power you seek is well within your grasp, but as I told you before, it will cost you everything."

He vehemently shakes his head, denying it. Denying it before her and all the Gods.

"You told me upon entry that no price was too great for your reward. Do you still agree with this sentiment?"

"No! Not-- not her. Not her. Not that! I couldn't--"

"You can and you shall, sure as the moon follows the sun. You will have everything you ever wanted, but cost of this ritual is plain before you. You cared not for the many souls left to your mercy that are crushed beneath your tyrannical fist in your ascension, but what of the sole one that resides in your heart?"

Her. The light of his life. The air he breathes. The sun on his frigid flesh, the warmth that melts his icy heart.

"No," He hisses, trying to stand, but ultimately unable to muster the strength. "I won't! There-- There must be another way. Show me!"

"There is no other way," She says, solemnly. "It is inevitable."

He swallows down the information like a boulder lodged in his gullet. Her words echo endlessly in his mind, bouncing off the walls and lodging shards of ice directly in his soul.

"What if I-- What if I don't ascend? Tell me, what if I don't?"

She smiles again, teeth flashing through her thin lips. "That is another path, little elf." "I need to know. I-- I need certainty. I won't do this to her, but I--" He pauses, grappling with everything in his mind, desperately flitting about to absorb it all. "If I am going to forgo this, I need to be certain. I need to know that I can protect her, that she will be safe--"

But the woman simply shakes her head.

"Everyone must choose. For some, the path is dark, but for you, you see more than most will ever have the comfort of knowing. I can offer you nothing more. Should you initiate the Rite, you know this will come to pass. I can tell you nothing more if you choose to not. The future is yet unwritten, and the quill resides in your hands." "Then why can I not have both!" He slams a fist on the table, clawing at the soft wood. For the first time in ages, tears prick at his pale lashes and frustration wells a knot in his throat. "Why--" "Because one path is wholly your own, while the other is a tangled web, such is the nature of deals with the Hells. You will get everything you ever wanted and lose everything that made it worth having."

His head slumps, defeated and miserable. Silvery tears slide down the curves of his cheeks, even as he attempts to bite them back. He thought he would find comfort in knowing the future, but all it has given him is utter horror.

"Despair not," She continues. "Yes, you will wither under the sun, an eternally cursed dweller of the night, but all is not lost, is it? The one you love, will she stray from your side?" "I wanted her to have better than that," He sniffles, needling his lip with a fang. "I cannot brave the sun, but her-- She deserves better than that-- better than me."

"And what of what she feels?"

His brows furrow, and he peers up at the woman from tear-beaded lashes.

"You are a night walker; it is in your nature to be selfish. But love is not selfish, little vampling. You must fight your nature, your inherent self-loathing, or your love will always find the fire. What of what she desires?"

"She loves me," He says with absolute certainty. "And I--" "Do you love her?"

"Yes," He hisses, almost insulted that she would ask. "More than anything. I'm here, aren't I?"

"Then the rest matters naught. If you love her, you will allow her the agency to choose-- something you deny her as an ascendent. You must grow past your own follies. To love is to be vulnerable, and you must allow both yourself and her this freedom."

They are hard words to swallow, and yet, he feels the truth resound in them. She would not leave his side, even as he tried to force her to understand. Even as an instrument of his manipulation and schemes came to light, she stood steadfast with him, hand entwined in his, ready to face the fire together.

"I-- I need to know she will be safe."

Again, the woman shakes her head. "You cannot. You must fight fate if you wish to overturn it. You face dire odds, though throwing the dice in your favor now will doom you later should this outcome be the confirmation of your fears."

He sighs, face crinkling as he sniffs once more, summoning the willpower to swallow down the agony of his choice. He finds the strength in his legs to push himself upward from the chair, weak and shaking as a newborn fawn as he does so. "I will do whatever I need to. Anything."

"Then you may yet see this through."

He can hear the fanfare of the circus outside, the bawdy bards strumming away on their lutes and banging on drums, the elated screams of the children and their parents. Facing the light now seems impossible, but he must find his way home to her-- he has to be with her now now now--

"The coin first, boy."

He snaps out of his delirium only long enough to fish his hands into one of his pockets, bringing out a coin. Aged and neglected, the sinister engraving of a skull peers up at him from his palm, ruby eyes gleaming in the light as he tosses it into the woman's knobbily-jointed hands.

"Best of luck to you, night-child," She tucks it away. "We may yet meet again." "No offense, but I hope not."

"Me too, Little Star."

He pays little mind to the bustling streets and bursting taverns of Baldur's Gate, his feet carrying him back to camp as swiftly as his body will allow. It takes him until sundown even as he damn near jobs, ripping through the tree line and into the ruins with the intensity of a man starved.

"Astarion!" Karlach greets him, trying to wave him over. "I've got a bet with Gale about--" "Where is she?" Astarion immediately cuts her off, looking around frantically.

"Who?" Karlach raises a brow.

"Who else?" Wyll crosses his arms, looking intrigued at Astarion's intensity.

"Oh! In her tent, I think. Why? Gotcha a special something' in town for her, eh?" Karlach tries to rib at him, but he pushes past her without a second glance.

"Bet it's a fancy new dress he needs to tear off of her immediately," Karlach rolls her eyes before returning to her business.

He bursts into her tent to find her hunched over a book, tongue poking from between her teeth, as she scans over the page. This only lasts a few seconds before he scrambles onto the bed, squeezing her as tightly as he can manage, burying his nose into her hair, tears brimming in his eyes once more.

"Woah, hey!" She laughs, carefully setting her book aside, trying to discern what in the hells he is mumbling endlessly into her neck.

Need you-- need you-- love you-- can't lose you-- don't ever--

She hushes him, realizing something has gone terribly, terribly wrong, kissing his head and tugging him close. "Hey, what's wrong?"

She tries to cup his cheeks and bring his face up but he adamantly refuses, hard-swallowing the urge to bawl into her shoulder with every ounce of willpower he has. All he can manage is to cling to her, half sobbing, visions of that terrible future swimming in his head. He cannot let it come to pass, he will not--

And she holds him, cradling him in her arms, hushing him gently. Her face creases with worry, running her hands through his silvery hair as he pulls him into her lap.

"Little Star, what's wrong? You seem so upset. What can I do to make you happy, my love?"

"Is it done?" Ulma leans down as she enters the tent, carefully dodging the intricate tassels of the blanket strewn over the entryway.

"It is," The strange old woman replies, still rubbing the coin with her worn thumb.

"And?"

"I showed him nothing but truth," She says quietly. "I did not manipulate his vision. Only channeled it."

"That tells me nothing. I need to know if our children are safe."

"I cannot tell you this, Ulma. You know of the ways of our tribe; our relationship with these magics." Ulma's lips purse, her exasperation evident in her humorless expression. "I need to know--"

"His reaction was genuine. That was not my doing. He knows the price of power. I cannot tell you if he will pay it regardless," The old woman's head lifts, a slight mischievous smile playing on her lips. "But I can tell you what I think."

"And what do you think?"

"I have seen his soul-- the heart of it. I believe you will see our children yet. He will spare our heart to spare his own in kind. It beats in that woman," Her eyes twinkle in the low candlelight, a genuine smile widening across her cheeks. "I believe he can find redemption yet."

[oh-my-damn]

Sleepy Orange

Pairing: Astarion x Female!Tav/reader

Summary: You come back from a fight exhausted beyond belief. Astarion does his best to take care of you. Part of that includes peeling your orange.

Wordcount: 1300

Warnings: None. Pure, unadulterated fluff. A happy, sappy, in love Astarion (just as he deserves to always be)

Masterlist

You huffed as your tired body plopped down on the bed in your tent, a groan spilling out when you land on the many pillows adorning it.

Your head lolls back as your eyes droop closed, every muscle in your body aching from your escapades today.

It had been a long one. A long and rough one. It felt like you'd been fighting for days when you finally came out victorious, but the price of winning meant that you'd been covered in blood and bruises.

One long bath later, you were finally back in your tent, lit candles scattered about, jewel-shade pillows in velvety fabrics adorning the space.

Your living accommodations had certainly become more colorful and frivolous ever since you and Astarion had decided to shack up together.

It had been an accident, at first. Your relationship had it's ups and downs, but after defeating Cazador, he finally told you how he felt. He laid himself bare for you, not just his body but his soul as well, and your heart soared at the idea that the man you fell for so recklessly finally loved you back. Even with everything the two of you had gone through.

Eventually, it came to a point where the two of you would spend every night in each others arms, either in your own tent or his. So naturally, you came to the conclusion that it would be easier if you just shared one tent. Together.

It had taken a period of adjustment, at first, but it didn't take long for both of you to find a home in your newly shared accommodations. For Astarion, an important part of his living space was that it be elegant, and comfortable – at least whatever comfortable meant to his standards. For you, it felt more lavish than anything, but after a while you started to find your own comfort in merely the thought that he loved the space. You found comfort in the thought that he felt at home, considering it had been so long since he'd felt that way.

You and Astarion aside, however, your work was still cut out for you on the fighting front. Defeating Cazador was nowhere near the end for you, even despite of Astarion now being a free – albeit still spawn – vampire, your main quest remained the same, and you were still fighting day to day to make it happen. Which is why you're currently camped out on the outskirts of Baldur's Gate, planning your next move.

Unfortunately for you and your companions, your presence in Baldur's Gate didn't exactly please everyone, which is why a group of mercenaries had cornered you earlier, prepared for a fight. They got one, but victory didn't come easily, which is why you're now achingly sore to the point of almost crying.

Your bones ache, so do your muscles, and your stomach feels empty beyond what could possibly be deemed healthy, but you're simply too tired to make any food.

You almost manage to drift off right there, in just your casual outfit on top of piles of velvet pillows, when you hear soft steps approaching, entering your tent.

You already know who it is just by the sound of his steps, how silent they are; you can tell that the only reason there's a sound at all is for your benefit, to alert you of his presence.

When he speaks, his voice is soft, laced with worry, a gentle whisper that caresses your mind, lulling you gently.

"Darling. Please tell me you're not dead."

A tired smile works its way onto your face, but your eyes remain closed as you murmur, "I'm alive."

"Thank the gods," Astarion responds, and you can just imagine the characteristic smirk on his face as he speaks, "Because if you were, I'm sure our companions wouldn't hesitate to suspect it be my doing."

You can hear him ruffling about faintly, closing the flaps to your tent to grant the two of you privacy, but your mind is already desperately slipping towards dream-state, only urged on by your body.

A beat passes before he speaks again, more quietly this time, but his voice is clearer than before despite it, which indicates he's moved closer to you.

"Have you eaten anything yet?"

You mumble something inaudible, but you manage to shake your head slowly, your eyes staying closed as you remain too tired to offer him a proper response.

He let's out a sigh, one that's steeped in worry rather than disappointment, and then you feel something cold gently brush over your cheek. His fingers.

"You need to eat, my darling. I know you're tired, but you haven't eaten all day. What can I get you?"

Your brows furrow as you shift slightly on the bed, tilting your cheek into his embrace. He cups it carefully, his cold touch soothing on your skin when his thumb caresses it.

"Mh, dunno.." Your response is barely there, but Astarion doesn't move away, his voice determined.

"I cannot in good consciousness let you sleep before you eat at least a little bit. How about fruit? An apple, perhaps?"

You grunt, your brows furrowing as your head shakes.

Astarion tuts gently at your antics, his fingers brushing over your forehead in a soothing manner, "Okay, my sweet, point taken. No apples. An orange then, would that entice you?"

You hesitate. An orange does sound absolutely perfect right now.

But then you let out a whine, "Too tired to peel it."

Astarion chuckles softly, his fingers gently sliding down the bridge of your nose as he whispers, "Don't fret, my dear."

The bed shifts again, his cool touch leaving your face, but it doesn't take long before your mind steals you away again, luring you into your dream state.

You're almost there when you feel movement again, your brows furrowing slightly as your tongue darts out to wet your dry lips.

Astarion gently slides a hand down your arm, his voice quiet, "I'm back, my love. I've got something for you, won't you indulge me in having a few bites?"

You stir at his words, settling against the pillows again, and then you feel something prod at your lips as he speaks again, "Open up for me, darling."

Your lips part, and he gently feeds you an orange slice, the taste making you hum when you bite down on it.

Astarion smiles at the tired look on your face, further peeling the orange to get more slices when you chew them.

"There we go. Tastes good, yes?"

You nod sleepily, blinking owlishly to look up at him through tired eyes. His smile widens when your eyes meet his, his adept fingers expertly peeling the orange without issue, "There she is. My little warrior."

You let out a tired chuckle at his words, parting your lips when he offers you another orange slice.

"Just a few more, darling. Then I'll let you rest."

You nod, your eyes fluttering closed again, but it doesn't deter him from feeding you the remaining orange slices as he speaks to you quietly to keep you awake.

"You were a sight for sore eyes today. I bet Gale is jealous you're not halfway to passed out in his bed right now."

You let out a snort at his words, shaking your head which makes him chuckle, "Now now, stay still, you little vixen. Eat the last of your orange."

You comply, chewing the last few bites and swallowing with a satisfied hum once you finish. His cool fingers gently caress your face, first your cheek and then down to your jaw, before you feel him lean closer. You feel his lips brush a kiss to your forehead, and then another on the tip of your nose before he whispers, "Thank you for eating. You may sleep now, my treasure."

[yawneon]

percy will a s/o that’s always sleeping🫶

BLUE - NOISE

a/n : this is so bad 😭😭😭

pairing : in love!percy jackson x hermes kid!reader

summary : in which percy jackson has his best birthday yet.

!!! : praying for more reqs, this one is so cute, i try my best 😞, maybe the plot was the friends we made along the way, unspecified demigod reader, book percy, ooc camp, i wanted it to be rainy in camp so ITS GOINF TO RAIN 🤬, the curse of never being able to write alot returns, THIS IS SO BAD

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

people at camp could’ve sworn there had been a mix up in olympus.

you. an hermes child? what a laugh.

you had to be a kid of hypnos. you slept so much, how couldn’t you? genuinely you couldn’t peel yourself off your bed like ever. everyone in camp knew, you were the person in cabin 11 that won’t get out bed if not needed. alcoholics had alcohol, gamblers had casinos but you… you had something far more worse.

you had the (in your humble opinion) the most comfortable bed in all of camp. sure, it wasn’t a 5 star hotel quality but shit was it good.

and more importantly it was the beds fault that you were oh so tired all the time and you just needed to sleep more than half the day.

everyone else couldn’t care less.. your siblings would just give you a small glance before ignoring you because honestly it was more surprising to see you awake! and trust me when you started dating percy.. did this get worse.

whatever you thought about having the best bed in camp was trampled on and thrown over a cliff edge the moment you laid in percy’s bed.

not only was his bed adorned with comfortable sheets and pillows his cabin was quiet.

-

percy didn’t understand however.

how on earth could you sleep when you have the most handsome and amazing boyfriend in all of the whole universe??

he has whined and frowned at you multiple times but you’ve slickly avoided his dramatics by lathering him up with sweet and sappy comments like “im dreaming of you~” that make annabeth and grover cringe at when he goes and boasts to them.

but today,

today you couldn’t avoid the dread of getting out of bed.

-

you stood at the foot of his bed holding a plate of waffles, blue ones. it was far too early for you, (it was 8am) but it was percy’s birthday. you weren’t going to neglect your boyfriend because gods you would never hear the end of it. so you decided to go against your force of nature and got up to whip up a batch of waffles for him.

despite it being the midst of summer rain pelted down against the hard exterior of cabin 3. it didn’t rain usually in camp, the rain would usually just pass right by but maybe the gods were arguing again and the storm was especially hard this day.

sluggishly you drag your feet to stand beside the bed in which percy sleeping.

you wished that was you.

the plate adorning the blue waffles are set down on his bedside table and you place a gentle hand on his shoulder shaking him. despite your (sucky) efforts he doesn’t stir awake.

you grab his arm now with both hands and you shake him harder than before and finally does he grumble awake.

he looks up at you, confused.

“happy birthday, idiot” you pick up and hold the plate of waffles up so he could see them a tired but sweet look on your face. he sits up on his elbows and a dopey smile appears on his face, a very common smile he shines when he looks at you.

“this all for me?” percy sits up fully now taking the plate from you and he smiles bigger now gaining his full conscious. he pats the empty side of the bed next to him and you basically throw yourself into the white sheets.

despite the innate need to sink further in and take ahold of the sleep thats so desperately trying to drag you down you sit up and watch him. “you’re up, today.” percy teases, his shoulder nudging yours.

“just shut up and eat your breakfast.” you laugh softly amused by his jokes.

he begins gobbling the waffles down, scoffing down the cream on top and cleaning the plate of any remains of food. it was actually very impressive how well he ate all of it.

percy’s eyes trail to the window of his cabin his eyes watching as the raindrops pelt down at the glass and the sound of the rain hitting the walls and roof echo loudly.

-

percy places the plate back onto the bedside and looks out the window. “say aye if your in to stay home all day?” he peeks at you, another dopey smile that you just couldn’t resist is painted on his face.

you didn’t even reply to him, your arm snakes around his collarbone and you basically slump him into bed. you both lay on your back and then percy starts talking.

he always did this. percy would talk and talk and talk while you laid next to him, even if you were asleep he would keep going. just the feeling of having you next to him was comfortable so he would talk about all different kinds of things and today wasn’t any different.

you however wanted to listen to him today but oh geez was it hard.

again it wasn’t your fault that his voice was smooth and calming to listen to even of he was talking about how he fell one time and scraped his knee when he was 7. it was like ypur white noise. you already slept a fuck-ton and having a boyfriend with the most sweetest voice was not helping you.

he held your hand as he laid next to you, his eyes tracing every detail of the ceiling as his fingers dance along your palm. he starts telling you all about how his first quest went. a story you’ve heard over.. and over and over again.

“when i started my quest..” blah blah blah.

your eyes shut and all you could focus on was his voice and the noise of water hitting the window panes. his hand was warm in yours and with his free hand percy pulls the covers over the both of you so only your heads were poking out. he slips his arm under your head and his other hand grabs yours again as he keeps rambling on.

before you could fully drift off you turn into him, you could feel his eyes on you as he watches you shift and his words pause for a moment.

“i love you.” he whispers, hoping that you were asleep. you smile into his skin, a clear sign you were still all there.

“i love you too, happy birthday percy.” you half open your eyes you pull his face down by grabbing his cheeks and you kiss under his eye before moving back down.

percy flashes his signature smile before his story changes from his quest to tell you about how on his 9th birthday his mom baked him a blue cake and how it was awesome. you make a mental note to yourself before drifitng off.

you dreamt of percy that night.

let me rephrase that.

you dream of percy.

you dream of him even though he is yours.

his pretty green eyes, his black hair, his sandy skin on the beach. but more often than not you dream of him like how you are now.

cuddled up beside you, warm under the covers as he tells you about all kinds of things like how he thinks the universe was made.

you dream about him dreaming of you which you know he does (since he tells you).

you dream about the way he wants you despite your sleeping routines, you dream about the way he calls you his sleeping beauty.

yet all those dreams are the reality you live. maybe missing a few hours off of slumber isn’t all that bad when your spending it with the boy you see when you close your eyes.

-

@yawneon

[waldau-archived]

little things — jeon wonwoo | 1,497 words | fluff

(or, three things that remind you wonwoo's another person like you, and not just one of the most popular idols in the world)

sometimes i shell walnuts for my family because (incoherent sounds) (something akin to peeling an orange for people you love) (they love walnuts more than i do)

gender neutral reader. warnings: none.

you know for a fact that jeon wonwoo is a superstar.

he's extremely popular. he travels the world for his work. you're not the only person in the world who has a crush on him or is in love with him. but you are the only person who gets to have him like this — watching him do the dishes while you're sitting on the sink counter and kicking your feet, wearing his hoodie.

you both share your household chores, but he's made sure you don't touch a single spoon or bowl because of all the cooking you do. and you're definitely not going to complain when you get to watch him work, his muscles flexing as he meticulously dries every dish he's washed.

he's currently talking about something mingyu did in practice but you're not really paying attention to his words. you're just...watching him.

he's used to it at this point in your relationship, but he still gets flustered sometimes, like he is now. you can tell by the way his head is bowed and there's a small smile on his face, and there's no doubt he's blushing, if he's going to let you look at him.

"take a picture," he says without looking up. "it'll last longer."

when you don't reply, he looks up to find you staring at him in no doubt a lovesick manner, and you're right. he is blushing, and you're filled with the sudden urge to drag him away from the dishes and kiss him silly.

"did you hear a word i said?"

"no," you say easily, finding no point in trying to act like you were listening. you're more enthralled by the fact that one of the most popular idols in the world is washing dishes in a kitchen he shares with you. dishes that are a result of an impromptu baking session at two in the morning because neither of you could sleep.

it makes you feel small for some reason, so you just scoot closer to where he's standing.

"tell me again?"

wonwoo shakes his head. "mingyu would be happy to tell you—" he cuts himself off with the most uncharacteristic, un-wonwoo sound you've heard in your life. you don't think he's ever made that sound before.

you jump off the counter to witness wonwoo wiggling his arms like those floaty things in car dealerships, like he's got a spider on his arm or something.

you're almost too afraid to ask if it is a spider because it's always wonwoo who chases away the insects in your house, but all he does is show you the sleeves of his sweatshirt. they're wet and dripping water onto the floor. you can't help but let out a little giggle despite trying your best not to.

"it's your fault," wonwoo says, pushing his sleeves up and wincing.

"excuse me?"

"your fault for sitting there and being so pretty. looking at me."

it's not often that wonwoo's what you'd call sappy, especially with his words. you hold his face in your hands, taking in the blush that's deepened when he realizes what he's said out loud. who knew your boyfriend could sing and dance for hours on end and do stuff like bungee jumping only to be defeated by wet sleeves?

"i'll do them if you read me something to sleep."

"deal."

you get startled awake by the sound of a rhythmic tapping. wonwoo isn't next to you, either. your hand reaches out to the most threatening thing you can find to defend yourself with, but you're not sure your bedside lamp is an ideal option.

"wonwoo?" you call out, hoping it's him and no one else.

the tapping sound stops immediately.

"i'm outside," he calls out, and you let out a sigh of relief. slipping into wonwoo's hoodie, you make your way to the living room, the marble floor underneath your feet cold enough to sting.

wonwoo's sitting on the floor, seemingly unbothered by the cold. when he spots you, he opens his arms wordlessly to let you settle down into his lap. he runs cold, just like you do, which gives you all the more reason to cuddle him.

"sorry, sweetheart," he says, kissing your cheek. "i didn't mean to wake you up."

"you didn't," you say, not entirely untruthfully. you'd been half-awake before you heard the sound of whatever he'd been doing in his living room. it's then that you realize there's a hammer next to his feet, a newspaper spread out before him, half filled with...walnuts? the other half of the paper has empty shells.

"what..."

"you said we ran out of walnuts yesterday, so i went to the farmer's market when you were at work. they taste really good. we should go together this week."

"...just because i said the salad could use some walnuts?"

"just because."

you turn to hide your face , blaming the early hours of the morning for all the mushiness you're feeling. your boyfriend, who has practice in a few hours, and needs his sleep more than you do, is sitting on the cold floor of your living room shelling walnuts for your salad like there's nothing else he'd rather do.

"you're too good to me."

"i'm just perfect for you," he grins, and you respond by tousling his hair till it's a mess of your liking. it's not long before you've learned how to shell them without hurting your thumb, wonwoo feeding you a stray walnut every now and then.

wonwoo's gaming setup is grander than you expected one to be. it's probably because you weren't really familiar with gaming apparatus before wonwoo, but it's also probably because he just really loves gaming.

it's not just a gaming pc with a fancy keyboard and the usual gaming chair — it's two huge screens next to each other, lighting underneath the desk and in front of him so it's good for when he needs to stream himself, as well as the usual clutter of his desk. you can tell he's as passionate about it as he is with the important things in his life.

not to mention the little polaroids of you and him, him and his friends, and some cats he's photographed strung up together that came about when he pulled you in one afternoon and asked you to help him decorate the place a bit better.

even though it's not your cup of tea, you really enjoy watching wonwoo game. he knows and likes it just as much as you do. you know wonwoo's down for teaching you whatever game you want to learn whenever the two of you are free, but you'd much rather just watch him be so focused on trying to level up. it's kind of hot, really.

there had been this one time you pulled up a chair to watch wonwoo game with seungcheol, hoshi and vernon. he spent a good chunk of time explaining the rules of the game to the others because they'd never heard of it before, but he lost his train of thought halfway through the game and kept giggling sporadically.

you really had no idea of what had been going on, and wonwoo had to take breaks in between, laughing and explaining the unfortunate situation of vernon blowing up his character again and again, repeatedly promising it was a mistake and not something he was doing for laughs.

after that, wonwoo bought a pair of earphones just so you could listen in on conversations with his friends when it wasn't a professional livestream. hearing hoshi swear repeatedly was just as funny as trying to stop yourself from laughing loud enough to alert the others of your presence.

the thing is, wonwoo's always tried to make space for you in his life in whatever little ways he can, and you're reminded of it when he lets out a soft curse, fumbling with something in his hands.

it's those same earphones you use when you sit with him and watch him play. you haven't gotten the time to use them recently, because of your busy schedules, so it's a pleasant surprise to see them in the outside world, in the walk you're currently on. but they're tangled up so badly that wonwoo isn't able to undo them.

you take them from him with his permission and untangle them quite easily. maybe you should get back to using them more often with him.

"wouldn't headphones be more convenient, though?"

wonwoo looks at you like you've asked him why it's not okay to call yourself a tiger.

"then how am i supposed to listen to music with you?"

oh, you think.

jeon wonwoo might be a superstar. he might travel the world for his work and have people in love with him to some extent, but to you, he's your boyfriend. your wet sleeves-fearing, walnut-shelling, earphones-owning boyfriend. which is simply a lot of words for the best boyfriend in the world.

[dykeomania]

lovergirl!hazel headcanons

｡.｡ just some evidence of a love that transcends hunger, tbh.

a/n: i needed a break from writing a fic and wanted to write something sappy. this is the something sappy in question. wanted it to give how-you-become-hazel's-lover -> what she does when you're actually her lover vibe but it just got real mushy. i like it. i hope you like it, too. proofread, but i'm blind as fuck + i'm rusty, so.

tags: gender neutral (i think. i may have fucked up once or twice. please correct me if i did, i proofread fr fr over time. not intended for cis men), body neutral, and poc friendly. some niche reader things (tarot mention, reader wears makeup). mild nsfw -- kissing, making out, heavy petting. almost third base. starts in high school, ends in college.

practice fanfic etiquette. please don't plagiarize or repost my stuff.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who sits up straight on the edge of your bathtub and looks up at you in complete awe when you're getting ready. she's got the dumbest, most lovesick puppy look in her eyes as she watches her lover line her lips, and apply a sheer coat of gloss on top. when they turn around to ask if it's even, hazel smiles so wide that it makes the apples of her cheeks sore.

she doesn't really know if it looks okay, she just knows that she wants to kiss you.

she only manages an mhm because it's what you want from her and, well.. at this point, hazel's convinced that she'd drop just about everything to give whatever you want.

you snicker, closing the space between you in slow and steady strides. "what are you looking at, huh?" you teases, grin stretched across lips lined nude, gleaming pink.

"mmm..." hazel can't help but like, drunklenly (she's dead sober).. haphazardly loop you in by the belt loop, head tilting easily to the right. "yyyyyou."

her eyes droop as she falls victim to the familiar spell that you cast over her. one that starts with you taking her face in her hands, and bringing yourself close enough for to take in all at once. she's made dizzy by the smell of your conditioner, made defenseless by the familiar trace of your body wash radiating off of your skin.

"what're you looking at me for?" you grin, your hands hot on her cheeks as you stand between her legs.

"why wouldn't i wanna look at you?" hazel gently manages, hand finding comfortable purchase on your hips. she grips gently with admiration, fingertips pressing into sacred flesh of something, someone, who she couldn't believe is hers. "you're just so pretty."

but let's take a few steps back first,

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who meets you purely by coincidence. you don't go to fight club, and you don't do cheer. you don't have any classes together, you hardly even know of each other. you do, however, have to work concessions for football together one night.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who doesn't talk much, and honestly standing next to you feels kinda stupid with the bruise that she has on her cheek. she usually never really cares and she's usually super talkative -- she doesn't talk much because well.. she doesn't really know.. how to. how to talk to pretty people -- well, it's not like she finds you pretty, it's just.. anyways,

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who makes some dumb joke about athletes and you kind of snort.. and she's immediately charmed. hazel callahan who has a desire to keep you entertained, and continues to do so throughout the remainder of the game.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who actually is in your class, but, neither of you just really noticed. hazel callahan who sits next to you in the weeks following. who spends her free periods with you. who eats lunch with you. who eventually gets around to telling you about fight club, over turkey and rye sandwiches.

"so you just, like..." you take a break from chewing, tonguing some bread out of your back molar. "punch the shit out of each other, and it's school-sponsored?"

"...well, yeah. but in like a self-defense, queer way. bring people together, create some solidarity. a safe-space on campus for queer community, kind of thing."

"oh okay, so like, in a slay way," you revise.

hazel stares. scoffing out a gentle laugh. "uh... yeah.." hazel furrows her brows, shaking her head. "um.. what does that.. what does that, like, mean?"

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who becomes your best friend.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who really likes you. like, as a person.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who likes you maybe a little bit too much.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who doesn't know how to embroider, so when you embroidered her converse -- creating a wreath of vines, speckled with bright little flowers around the all star symbol -- she was so happy. but she felt so bad because she didn't know how to repay you.

"let me make it up to you?" she insists, fingers playing with your own, but not creating enough distraction to prevent you from protesting.

"what?" you scoff, subconsciously locking her hands with yours, as though you're about to declare a thumb war. "no, how?"

"i don't know! this is so nice, let me like..." hazel shrugs voice dropping timidly, "..take you out or something."

a beat passes, one that feels like forever. a large enough one to create space for all the butterflies to rumble around both of your stomachs, and for the elephant to pass through the room. hazel can't tell if it's your hand that's begun to sweat in your grasp, or if it's hers.

your eyes narrow at her, grin stretched into something cheshire as you shake your hand, and hers. "i think you just wanna take me out on a date."

hazel smiles sheepishly, cheeks flushing a bright flamingo. she shrugs, next words quiet and intentional,

"so what if i do?"

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan doesn't know how to embroider but she does have an eye for wildflowers. when the girl who shows up at your doorstep, it's with a dorky smile, a batch of spring, and a bandaid wrapped around her index finger and her thumb. the flowers that she biked about an hour north to pluck -- from a field she discovered after having simply gone too far -- are bunched together and wrapped in a trader joe's paper bag, the kind that her mom always leaves in the kitchen under the sink. she put the boquet together herself. spent too much time thinking about whether or not you would like the arrangement or the colors, probably went to the store to grab a few of your favorite flowers that she couldn't find.

"oh, these are for you. see, i tried to make this whole thing, like.. semi.. transactional. again, like, i don't really know how to embroider flowers, or like anything really, so... these were next best thing, i guess." she offers, as though it's nothing.

"you look.. really nice." hazel's eyes linger, stricken and dumb. she fills her lungs with air, huffing out her next sentence. "are yoooouuu.. ready to go?"

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who thinks that star signs mean nothing, and doesn't know jackshit about crystals or anything of the like. but hazel callahan who is all eyes and ears, criss-cross-apple-sauce with you on her floor, as she watches you knock your knuckles on a deck of tarot cards and shuffle through them for what you called a "semi unreliable, two-card reading."

hazel callahan who jumps a little when two cards fly out from the deck. who furrows her eyebrows when you turn the over. an the lovers and two of cups, both upright.

"what..." she snorts. "what does that mean?"

"um.." she watches you blush. "it means.." and she blushes when your eyes linger on hers, and then look up. feels her stomach flutter when she watches you take a deep breath in through your nose, like you're shuffling through all of the words in your head.

"...let's just saaaaayyyy... nnnew connections might be coming your way, soon."

hazel has no fucking idea what that means, looking at you, she surely could hope that that's true.

...

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who is shocked that you want to like.. have a sleepover with her. this doesn't really happen to her. like at all. but it's happening with you, so she's down.. but it has to be planned. hazel callahan pulls out all the stops to try to make sure that it's.. well, perfect, she guesses? she makes sure that it's on a weekend where her mom is out of town (not even because she wants to do anything but you know how her mom is). she asks you what all of your favorite snacks are beforehand, and offers to go get more if you run out. she makes sure that you have satin pillowcases if you have textured hair, just in case you forget a bonnet, or anything. probably does that regardless of whether or not that's applicable to you, because she hears it's better for your skin and what not. she gets a weighted blanket for you and some extra pillows + takes out an extra throw if she knows that you get cold easily, or damn near strips her bed down to just one comforter and gets a desk fan to face her bed if she knows that you get too hot.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who you create a shared movie list with, and who will sit with you and watch all of your favorite movies. all of your least favorite movies. will watch movies that you insist that she must see and will do so with very little fight because it's whatever you want, really. hazel callahan who is very quickly realizing that she would do whatever you wanted, as long as it meant that it got you to smile.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ (hazel callahan who, granted, talks through a lot of those fucking movies. like. hazel callahan who has a really fucking hard time paying attention to movies.)

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who clearly has overthought everything. who laughs at and understands all of your dumb jokes and is always a little shocked when you laugh at hers. who lets you rest your head on her shoulder when you watch movies in her home-theater. who lays with you in her bed and compares your tiktok for you page with hers and finds it a little too easy to poke fun of you. finds it not as easy to remain calm when your head rests comfortably on her chest, and thus hopes to god that all of the cringy tiktok audios are masking the sound of her heart beating out of her chest.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who looks at you when you mention that it's getting late, and insists that there's a guest room if you wanna sleep in there, or an air mattress that she was supposed to blow up.

"it's too late for that, though." you frown.

"no," hazel, being hazel, is quick to reassure, shaking her head. "no, no, i could totally blow it up. we have an automated pump, it'll take like 20 minutes."

"mm, i don't know, it's still kinda late for all of that..."

hazel blinks at you. her eyebrows raise, corners of her lips gently upturning. "okay. i mean, do you wanna take the guest room?"

you look up at her, eyes big on purpose. "that guest room's kinda scary." you lift a brow. "it's dark. and cold."

hazel thinks she might.. be tripping. she has to be. her blink is slow, and her face knots together, and releases -- the way it does when she gets all timid and indecisive. "o..kay..." she grins nonetheless, furrowing her eyebrows. "so then .. where are you gonna sleep?"

"..i mean.." you burn, and so does she. "...i could just sleep here with you?"

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who can't help but feel girlish and vulnerable laying in her bed with you, her stomach tied in knots over how there is nothing usual about this situation. fully seeing you in your pajamas. feeling the gentle flesh of your bare calves rub against hers. being within such close proximity of you that she can still smell the lingering remnants of soap on your skin from your shower.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who dares to let her finger dance on your upper bicep, but that's just about it, really.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who only nudges closer only when you nudge closer. who only lowers her voice, when you lower your voice. who only holds eye contact when you start it, but is always the first to look away.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who falls into a trap: eye contact held after some conversation that did not, and does not matter. she follows your eyes down, chocolate eyes focusing on the arch of your cupids bow. she does tilt her head up to find her nose nudging softly against the underside of yours. she doesn't know how you two got this close. hazel callahan who feels her hands grow sweaty, feeling your breath linger over her the chap of her lips. who nearly stiffens when she feels your hand press into her back, but instead arches into the crevice your body makes and presses her palm against your hip.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who does what she thinks she's supposed to do, and kisses you -- soft and gentle, like the whispers that fluttered over both of your lips earlier. brief, and endearing.

her lips stick to yours, and then her lips press into yours. and then her lips open when yours do, and her hand tightens on you when yours does.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who has no fucking idea what she's doing. like, seriously. she kind of knows -- i mean, okay, yeah, she knows how to kiss, but this is, like.. not just a kiss. hazel's kisses are brief. gentle, maybe a little slow. never this deep. hazel callahan who forgets herself when her fingers weave through your hair. hazel callahan who doesn't recognize the way her breath shakes in your throat when your fingers ambitiously sift through her thick, black locks and pull.

hazel callahan whose lips slot over yours, and unlock. who leans forward when you lean back, and is almost nearly on top of you.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who doesn't know what to do with her hand, so she puts it everywhere. glides it over your side, presses it over the expanse of your lower back. who smooths her hand under your shirt and marvels in the way your skin burns against her palm. who itches to explore, traversing over your stomach, venturing up, up, and up--

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who stops dead in her tracks when you hum something sour in her mouth and grab her wrist. who looks at you stunned with parted lips as you softly shake your head against hers.

"not yet," you pant, opening your eyes to look at her. "not yet."

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who bats her lashes, dizzy with affection yet sobered from your action. she knows how you sound. not like you're rejecting her, but like you're admitting something, which you.. might be. something that she understands. regardless, she understands.

but she burns bright with embarrassment, stomach rattling with a guilt that crawls up her throat and wraps around it, tightening and tightening...

"yeah," she manages a whispers after a while. somehow, it's still raspy. "yeah, okay.."

"okay.."

"...m'sorry--"

"don't be," you shake your head. "keep kissing me."

you rush, and it's kind of just in time. whatever stinging was lingering in her chest subsides as you bring yourself closer, lips softly capturing her lower lip in affirmation after hazel just stares at you.

hazel callahan who blinks, oscillating between consciences, dazed and a little confused. she's cautious and readjusted, her hand only lingering over your side as she whispers a faint "are you sure..?"

the sentence dissolves when on the tip of hazel's tongue when her lips find yours again, at your action, which is her answer. hazel callahan who listens. who lets you take her hand and place it somewhere that feels more comfortable, somewhere that's right and yet still sensual.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who is wiped, but intentional with every kiss that either you or her leads, every swipe of her lips over your jaw, every tender kiss that you let her place against the stretch of your neck.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who will admire within her bounds. kissing you, and drowning in you until she is simply too sleepy to continue. until she is dizzy and feels comfortable enough to nuzzle her face somewhere into the crook of you, breathing you in until you become a part of her dreams,

and she will wake -- in the morning, and in the middle of the night -- only to have a hard time believing that she isn't still dreaming.

...

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who kind of has to get used to.. all of it. who crushes, even though she's already "achieved," so to speak. who grins at her phone when she's texted, who finds any excuse to facetime you and keep you on the line -- sometimes just so that she can look at you. who finds any excuse to be around you.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who you can't get rid of once you go both go to college. who facetimes you whenever, who visits you on weekends. who comes into your space and steals all of your sweatshirts and your pajama pants and of course, all of your spare time.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel "no, i can make that for you" callahan who can't embroider, but can crochet. she will buy you that jellycat that you really want, a hundred percent. hazel callahan will also greet you with a fucked up rendition of said stuffed animal that you wanted (giving jamdog, perhaps) and furrows her eyebrows when you have to hide your laugh with your hand.

"what?" she asks, grin dulling only for a moment. "do you not like it?"

"no it's--" you cover your mouth. "it's perfect." you cackle. when you cup her cheeks, all the worry and fear of judgement fades. sort of. at least enough. "you're perfect, babe. i love it."

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who does, in fact, keep a picture in her wallet of her lover, ready at all times. hazel callahan who weaves her lover into casual conversation.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who still doesn't really understand figure of speech all that well so when you say things like "i wish you could just come over," she literally goes "..well like, i could,"

and then proceeds to make like, a three hour drive.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who keeps the picture that you hate of yourself as her lockscreen and it's not to spite you, it's because she thinks you're beautiful, and she has no idea what you're talking about.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who figures out what names you like to be called by throwing everything at a wall and seeing that sticks. pretty. handsome. lover. angel. baby. and when she does find one, one that makes you blush just about as hard as she does every time you even look in her direction, she holds it over your head to high heavens. makes it your contact name. uses it to punctuate reassuring sentences, when she greets you, when she tells you goodnight.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who gets to take you on real dates, and gets excited to. who gets giddy when you get ready. who gets to fix your hair and come up behind you when you take mirror selfies once you're finished. who now feels comfortable enough to place her hands at the mid-point of your waist and let them venture toward your frontside while she rests her chin on your shoulder, and leans in to kiss your cheek. who tells you you smell nice, and makes you smile when she buries her face into some part of you and literally just goes rahhhh!!!!

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who is also stuck sometimes, in moment such as these, watching the wonder who she has had a crush on since high school -- jesus, has it really been that long? -- with gentle eyes and a completely disarmed disposition.

hazel callahan who is honestly such a fucking loser -- like, literally, loser-since-birth, no-hope-since-middle-school, gay-haircut-and-new-repotoire-can't-save-you, loser, and can't help but ponder and marvel over how someone like you is in her hands. in her face. in her life.

"m'not that pretty," you insist, fingers weaving through her hair, nails etching at hazel's scalp in a way that hazel has grown to like. love, even.

her eyes flicker over your face, smile lopsided and eyes heavy like despite everything, you don't even know the half of it. she scoffs, voice hardly above a whisper,

"yeah no, you are so much more than pretty."

[ztarvokwrites]

How the Cross Guild propose to you (+ Galdino)

a/n: i'm in a sappy mood today and altho i did have oc x canon headcanons lined up, i went overboard and now i cba to finish it lmao. instead, here is some cross guild loveliness to make up for it💜

not nsfw! just a lot of fluff and chaos in buggy's part ☺️

enjoy and don't forget to reblog if you like it!

Buggy

Man does not know how to pick out clothes for himself, let alone a ring-

So he drags Alvida along with him because God knows how badly he'll be mocked by Crocodile and Mihawk if he asked them for help lmao.

"I want something flashy for them! Something that truly makes them mine for good!"

"Do you even know their ring size?"

Silence.

When Alvida finds out your ring size, she ends up dragging him along to pick out a ring, despite his loud protest.

In the end, they end up picking out this ring, much to Alvida's dismay.

The proposal itself was unplanned and, as usual, chaotic.

Despite Buggy desperately trying to keep it to himself until he got you alone, one of his lackeys discovered the ring and loudly yelped about it, much to Buggy's annoyance.

"CAPTAIN BUGGY, YOU'RE GOING TO PROPO—"

"SHUTTHEFUCKUP!"

That lackey was not seen for a while afterwards.

You knew. Of course you knew. He wasn't being subtle about it, the way he was trying to get you alone but sweating his makeup off and trying oh so desperately to hide the small box in his large red pillow-y suit was a big giveaway.

So when the box dropped and you picked it up, you opened it and smiled, ignoring Buggy's pleas to try again.

He only froze when you said yes to his fumbled proposal and slipped the ring on your finger yourself with a grin on your face.

The loud cheer from everyone snapped Buggy out of it and he yanked you into his arms and sped away with you, desperate to make it up to you for his failed proposal with promises and kisses littered all over your face.

Sir Crocodile

He's done it once before, he can do it again, right?

Don't ask me what that means, idk his past, but for some reason it makes sense that he's proposed to someone before.

Any-who, this man knows what he's doing.

He doesn't need to ask for your ring size, he already bought you a few promise rings before, so it just makes it easier for him to pick out the perfect ring.

Except it doesn't.

There are so many rings that seem the perfect fit for you, yet he can't decide on which one to surprise you with.

He tries to find one that matches your eyes, or your smile, or your physique, yet nothing pops out to him.

Until he finds this ring.

It's beautiful, priceless — it's you.

Sir Crocodile doesn't care about how expensive it is, as long as it's you.

Now the only problem was getting you alone.

As much as he wants to whisk you away, he can't, not when he's busy fending off Marines or trying to deal with Buggy's antics.

The way he ends up proposing to you is subtle, displayed and masked as a simple gift for your upcoming anniversary, despite it being a week away.

He adored the way your eyes lit up when you received the gift bag he got you, promising him that you'll open it that evening when you were both in the comfort of your own bed.

And so you kept your promise, your eyes filling with tears once you opened the small box to discover the ring and the words "Will you marry me?" engraved into the lid.

Needless to say, you couldn't let go of him for the rest of the night, cuddling into him so tight that he held you against his chest even tighter — but not tight enough to hurt you, he'd never do that.

After all, you're his fiancé now :)

Dracule Mihawk

This man is absolutely thorough when planning anything, so a proposal is no sweat.

He already had his hawk-eyes set on the perfect ring for you, so now all he had to do is whisk you away from the party that Buggy has stupidly hosted, despite the protests of those who are serious about the purpose of the Cross Guild.

Mihawk isn't a man who gets nervous, nor is he easy to read, which is why you're confused as to why he's brought you so far away from the rest of the crew.

He's quite romantic with how he proposes; encouraging you to gaze up at the sky with him as you two sit on the grass and wait for the sunset.

When the time comes for the sun to disappear, the soft blue of the sky turning into a darkened orange, he pulled you up to stand.

That's where he got down on one knee and proposed.

"I know our situation is less than ideal, my Dear, but I promise you this place is only our temporary solitude. I want you to live peacefully with me, until our dying breaths. Will you do me the honour of becoming my spouse?"

Oh, you absolutely said yes and peppered his face with kisses once he slipped the ring on your finger.

And yes he held you in his arms as he carried you back to the party, upon your request to celebrate with him, much to his dismay.

BONUS! Galdino/Mr 3

I feel like people forget he can just... Make stuff out of wax.

So of course he makes a ring out of wax, accompanied by a nice shiny diamond he 'discovered' in Buggy's office.

The only thing now was to propose to you, yet that was certainly a challenge.

Buggy kept hogging his attention from you, making him ignore you completely for days until he finally realised that he hadn't been giving you the attention you deserved.

Cue him dragging you away from the weaponry tent and into the woods with a basket of food in hand, making a wax canopy for you both to enjoy a candle-lit dinner in.

He kept feeding you compliments and flirting with you to the point where you got suspicious.

"...You're awfully flirty this evening, Galdi. Is something wrong?"

"Nothing can go wrong when I'm with you, my Darling~."

He begins to melt and you get even more suspicious.

Eventually he gets too melty and gives up on the lying and just gets down on one knee in front of you and creates the ring, putting the diamond on it and presenting it to you with a nervous smile.

The sweet gesture of the dinner and the making of the engagement ring before your very eyes was enough for you to kiss him as you took the ring and slid it onto your finger.

You two finished your dinner, but didn't return after a little while as you two were too busy being sappy with each other.

starnote: guys how tf do you get rid of a cough that gets worse when you're trying to go to sleep-

creds to @/saradika for the star divider!

[mikomikumi]

Your Stupid Face

An ES! Megatron x reader oneshot

Written with the song ‘Your Stupid Face’ by Kaden MacKay.

+2000 words

Tags: Fluff, Angst, friends to lovers, GN reader, Cybertronian Reader.

*some lyrics are changed to suit the narrative

‘I just really hate your face’, Megatron thought.

‘Though I know that won't surprise you’

‘But, to me, your face is one giant wart’

‘And your laugh's one big snort’

‘And you stink, so in short’

‘I despise you’

He walked up and down his habsuite, trying to convince himself he doesn’t like you.

For millions of years during the war, you were a Decepticon serving under his rule. You had fought together in many long battles, sharing victories and defeats. Yet, as some love stories begin, there was that connection. Was it the playful flirting while looking out of the Nemesis? Was it the late night conversations you'd indulge in on the long journeys? Or was it all meaningless and Megatron was just a sappy, hopeless romantic?

Nevertheless, his now daily affirmation of his ‘hatred’ for you goes on. He doesn’t want to like you. He can’t like you. Why would someone like you fall for a monster, a traitor.

‘You disgrace the human race’

'Cause you're more of a mosquito’

‘I would rather have the dent and a drill’

‘Then this swine in the swill’

‘And if you were a bill, I would veto’

Megatron sat on his berth. On a small table to the side, was a crystal souvenir you got from Crystal City. You stole it during an attack. He picked it up, and held it in the palm of his servo.

‘And if the world was perfect, you would be gone without a trace

But since the world could never be that great

I'll just hate your stupid face’

The grey bot gripped the crystal in a mini attempted rage, and threw it across the room. It shattered the second it made contact with the habsuite walls. The shatter knocked him out of his anger, and now he was full of guilt.

He slowly made his way over to the now broken souvenir. Beautiful shards of clear crystal glittered the floor. Just as he was about to try to clean up the mess, Optimus knocked.

“Come in”. Megatron called, dryly. “Ah, hello there my old friend”. Megatron stood up to greet the Prime, scooting the broken crystal to the corner with his pede.

“More tarantulas have been spotted around the junkyard. G.H.O.S.T. wants you to take care of them, as a ‘proof of trust’.”

“Seriously? Even after what happened last time? This is the biggest load of slag, Prime”. Megatron just scoffed and rolled his Optics. “It’s just Optimus, my friend. And I agree”. The truck put a servo on the grey bots shoulder plating. “You’ve been doing well so far in your cooperation, Megatron. Just think of this as another step towards the alliance of human and Cybertronian kind”.

To be honest, Megatron didn’t really care about the alliance. He has his human friends, Dot, Mo, Robbie and Alex. It’s not a war anymore, why does he need more friends? After a few moments of consideration he sighs. “Fine. I’ll be back”.

Megatron sauntered out of the room, leaving Optimus behind. Optimus watched his friend walk down the hall. “Take care!” All he got as a response was a servo in the air. He could make out the grey bot singing in the distance.

Doo-doo-doo-doo-doo~

Doo-doo doo-doo-doo-doo doo-doo-doo-doo-doo~

—————

The junkyard was absolutely covered in tarantulas when Megatron arrived. ‘Who the frag makes this many?’ Pushing his thoughts aside, he gets to work, slowly but surely fighting off as many tarantulas as possible. He kept his distance of them, as to not be overwhelmed like last time.

Unfortunately, that tactic only worked for a short period of time. More ended up emerging from the smallest of hiding places. Eventually there were too many for Megatron to shoot off alone. He found himself with his back against some shipment containers, surrounded at all sides. Just as he was about to transform and fly off, a line of tarantulas were flattened before him.

‘Oh, no’

The jeep responsible for the hit and run swerved back to stop in front of him.

‘No…’

“Need a hand?” You transformed into your bot mode. Your face held a smirk Megatron had been trying so hard to hate.

‘I just really like your face

You don't have to look so happy’

Megatron wanted so bad to tell you to go away, but all he could muster was his own small smile.

‘I'm not really into love that you flaunt

In some glittery font

But if that's what you want

Make it snappy’

“That would be nice”, is all he says.

You take out your arm cannon. “Let’s do this then!”

Just like old times. It had been a while since Megatron felt a rush course through his Energon lines from battling. You by his side, shooting the enemy and making witty banter in between hits. It was perfect. It doesn’t matter anymore that G.H.O.S.T. sent him out for one of the most stupid reasons in the world, because now you were here. It’s funny. All those chants of how much he hated you in the mornings sizzled away. Like a blaster to a tarantula.

‘I just feel so out of place

Well, except for when you're near me

When you're gone, I'm like a plant with no root

Or a song that's on mute

Don't you dare call it cute!

You should fear me!’

You giggle. Primus, he should be the one calling you cute! Not the other way around. He was a monster, only now paying for all his sins by joining the other side. He thinks all this despite knowing you also took part in torturing Autobots and other heinous acts.

A car honk interrupts your fighting for a moment. Megatron hears let out a small gasp. Before he can stop you, you transform and drive off into the surrounding forest. As he turns to where you were standing, Dot, and her seven children leap into action behind him, helping clear off the last few of the tarantulas.

‘And if the world was perfect, you would've never invaded my space

But since the world's obsessed with saying, "Psych!"

Now I like your stupid face’

Megatron just sighs. He averts himself back to the children and Dot. He doesn’t think they spotted you. Even if they did, thanks to their understanding mother they would’ve treated you with respect. They’d probably like you a lot. You’re funny, charismatic, cool to be with. Anyone could like you.

The children wanted to ask him over for game night. Optimus told them where he was. After all of today's events, he actually decided to agree and join them. He transformed and followed them down the road.

Doo-doo-doo-doo-doo~

Doo-doo doo-doo-doo-doo doo-doo-doo-doo-doo~

————-

So, it turns out all of the efforts Megatron made were useless. The pathetic doctor has him and most of the Autobots under mind control, and is now sitting atop a throne, watching the Terrans and Decepticons fight. Starscream informed you about what happened with him and one of the Terrans, and asked if you’d like to help kick Megatron in the aft. While part of you was delighted with the opportunity, you also felt a little sympathetic towards him.

You secretly loved the bot. His determination and good intentions deep down made you swoon, not to mention he’s not the worst looking. Obviously you’d never tell him, why would you be of interest to a warlord? You would’ve joined him with the Autobots and G.H.O.S.T, if it didn’t mean covering up your Decepticon insignia. Your pride won over your love that you could never portray. Instead you’ve been hiding, living as peaceful a life as you could before potentially being captured, which somehow you avoided.

You now stood in front of the bot. The red terran, Twitch, had almost been blown to bits. You managed to pull her away in time before Megatron had the chance to shoot, but now took her place. “Go! I’ll take care of him”, you yelled, letting her run to save her brother. His optics now an alarming glowing white. And you thought the red was terrifying enough. Megatron pointed his fusion cannon at you. You pointed back.

“Megatron!? Are you still there?” You call from him. Your cannon wouldn’t do a fraction of the damage his would, but it was at least worth an attempt.

He didn’t respond to you, still as the sculpture in the SpaceBridge Memorial park.

“MEGATRON!” you begged. “ITS ME!”

Not a flinch.

“PLEASE!” Tears begin to roll down your cheek plating.

What you didn’t know was that Megatron on the inside was fighting for his life to gain control. He heard every single word. He knew it was you, and there was no way he would let Mandroid lay a finger on you. He fought, and fought.

Until it was too late.

While he managed to weaken the intensity, mind-controlled Megatron had shot a massive dent in your chassis. He could see the pain on your face, he heard the adorable yelp you squeaked.

No…

No!

His self loathing only lasted a few more moments when suddenly he watched you go offline. He then felt his own systems shut down too. Weakly he collapsed, falling to his knees next to you.

‘I just really miss your face’

‘Though, by now, I must disgust you’

‘I had tried to be the stubbornest mule’

'Cause I knew life was cruel’

‘So I guess I was foolish to trust you’

He painstakingly crawled closer to you, and placed a servo over yours.

‘But I wait here just in case’

‘Though I know I'm being senseless’

‘How could I have ever been so naive’

‘And wear my heart on my sleeve’

‘When I knew it would leave me defenseless?’

Just before his optics died out, he gave your servo a gentle squeeze.

‘And if the world was perfect, you would be here in my embrace

But since the world denied me one last kiss

I'll just miss your stupid face’

—————

Megatron was the first of the two of you to wake up. After collecting his thoughts for a few seconds his attention turned to your body, laying face down and holding his hand. He got up and you begin to stir.

Eventually, you push yourself up to meet the grey bot’s face. As your chassis rises with you, Megatron is reminded of what he failed to stop. He sees the damage he has done.

His optics widen, stepping back. He’s disgusted in himself. He’s too scared to touch you. You manage to fully stand up and walk closer to him.

“Megs, I’m alright, it’s just a dent-”

“No… stay back…”

“Megatron really, I’m fine-”

“STAY AWAY!”. You can hear the tears in his voice box as he transforms and flies away.

The red Terran stands beside you as he leaves. You know where he goes when he’s upset, should you follow him is the question.

And that question is answered straight away when Twitch taps you on the leg. “Go”.

And so you do. To the waterfall.

————-

Just as you suspected. Megatron is sitting on a rock next to the waterfall, hunched over. You remember him going here when the SpaceBridge was destroyed. The sound of the crashing water made him at peace with himself.

As you pull up, he jumps the noises of your alt form changing back to normal.

“What are you doing here?” He blurts.

“I followed you after you ran off”.

“I didn't run away! It was, it was a strategic retreat.”

You made your way closer to him, he took a step back.

“Can we at least talk about this”

“What is there to talk about? It's over, I hurt you”.

You keep making your advances. Megatron’s retreats can only go back as far as the cliff edge, unless he flies off of course.

“…Are you sorry?” You sheepishly ask.

“Well, yeah, of course I'm sorry, but- No, no, don't forgive me!”

“Wha-”

“Why do you do that?”

“Megs-”

“Why, why give me another chance to mess things up?”

Oh my Primus sake he wouldn’t listen. This isn’t the confession you wanted but the only one that would shut him up.

“For frag sake Megatron because I LOVE YOU”.

”Because you- what?”

Megatron’s jaw dropped. He struggles to make more words, let alone actually process what you said.

‘Those three little, words out of the blue’

‘Completely uncalled-for, especially from you’

”Why don't you hate me? Why do you care?”

“Can't you berate me? Isn't that fair?”

“Where is your glare?”

He’s too busy trying to justify it all to notice you’re now standing in front of him.

“Don't you dare leave our problems and pain on the shelf!”

“Because if you don't hate me, I can't hate myself-”

You thought if he kept babbling he was gonna override himself. You roughly grabbed his head by the jaw and kissed him.

Once you pulled away he cupped your own face with one of his servos, his red optics staring deeply into yours. The shock and desperation took over himself.

‘But that's why I need you’

‘You shatter my fear’

'Cause despite my misdeed, you are still right here’

‘Though it's stupid to date me’

‘You're willing to try’

‘And if you don't hate me, then why should I?’

“Are you sure you don't want to give up on me?” He whispered

All you could do was laugh. “You're a moron~”

Megatron felt his spark begin to race.

“So you think that we could work?”

You just nod, nuzzling you head more into his servo.

“Here I thought I'd been the dumb one”

“what?” You stop.

“You're forgiving me for all I did wrong” he replies

‘You're unmuting the song’

‘And, again, I belong to someone’

“No! You can drop the stupid smirk” he raises his digit at you, as if scolding.

“Though by now I guess you've earned that”

'Cause no matter how intensely I pout’

‘Your stupid face will win out’

‘And I guess it's about time I learned that’

Your face was plastered with a permanent smile, which melted every fear and worry Megatron had. He pulled you in by the waist, resting his servos there once he finished.

‘And though we go together like a glass of high grade and mace’

Your scent comforted him as you wrapped your arms around his neck. Yes part of it was burning metal, but he never figured out how you always smell like sweet high grade.

‘At least it's not as dull as fitting like a glove’

'Cause you're a nightmare that I've not been dreaming of

But I suppose that when push comes to shove

Fine!’

“I love your stupid face” you whispered,

Megatron chuckled, leaning down for a soft, deep kiss.

Doo-doo-doo-doo-doo~

Doo-doo doo-doo-doo-doo doo-doo-doo-doo-doo~

Doo-doo-doo-doo-doo~

‘Your stupid face~’

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Trying

Summary: You and Javi are trying for your first baby. The two of you can't help but be excited for future baby Peña, even they don't exist yet

Word Count: 1.3K

Pairing: Husband!Javi x Wife!reader (No use of y/n)

Warnings: Allusions to smut, breeding kink, talks of starting a family/stopping birth control, being so soft and in love I am physically ill, FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF

A/N: HELLO IT'S ME AGAIN. Here's a cute lil drabble about these two bc I cannot get them out of my head and I love them more than life itself and it's FINE 😭🫠 I'm never getting over Javi and Osita and their cute lil family, and I'm not sorry about it!!!! Poorly beta'd bc that's how I roll, sorry for the mistakes

“I think this is the one.” 

“Javi, you have thought that every time we’ve had sex in the past 3 weeks is gonna be the one that gets me pregnant.” You laughed, giving your husband a playful roll of your eyes as you rested your head on his bare chest, your naked bodies blissfully tangled in the sheets of your bed. 

A little less than a month ago, now married and your new house finally finished, you and Javi had ultimately reached your agreed upon point of actually trying for a baby and starting your family together. Even though your doctor had told you it could take up to two months for you to get pregnant after stopping your birth control for good, Javi was more than happy to aid in the cause of doing everything he could to help you beat those odds. 

“I know, I’m- Fuck, I’m just really excited.” Javi beamed, draping his arm across your waist, gently taking his broad palm and placing it on your stomach, softly rubbing circles on your skin with his thumb. 

You couldn’t help but feel your heart burst with how thrilled Javi was at even just the idea of being a dad, your cheeks growing warm and soft at the love he already had for your baby that may or may not even exist yet.

At this point, you were honestly convinced that Javi was more anxiously waiting your period (or hopefully, lack of period) than you were, convinced that if the two of you tried every day, sometimes more than once a day, there was no way there weren’t going to be two pink lines on your pregnancy test at the end of the month. 

“You know there’s no baby in there yet, right?” You giggled, gesturing down to Javi’s hand, now placing yours over it, intertwining your fingers together. 

“Could be.” Javi smirked, pressing a soft kiss into your messy hair, making you giggle as he pulled you in closer. “I hope there is.” 

“Well obviously I do too, ya dork.” You smiled, letting out a quiet sigh as you nestled your body closer to his. Javi perked up at your exhale, looking down at you with his sweet, doe eyes, a twinge of concern spreading across his face at your heavy breath. 

“You okay, Osita?”

“Yeah, it’s just- fuck, it’s crazy to think that I’m literally gonna grow a tiny human inside me. That we’re gonna be parents. I don’t know, that it’s not just gonna be the two of us, well, the three of us,” You snickered, gesturing over to a grumbling Bear laying sound asleep on your bedroom floor, “hopefully soon. I just- I’m really happy, Javi. Thank you for wanting to give me a family. I love you so much.” 

You couldn’t help but let happy tears well in your eyes, letting out a few soft sniffles as you wiped the wetness dripping down your cheeks with the back of your hand, laughing between your crying as you tried to compose yourself. 

“God, I’m not even pregnant yet and I’m already an emotional mess. Sorry baby, I don’t know what got into me but guess I’m feeling extra sappy tonight.” You huffed, brushing away the last few tears still pooling at your eyelids, waiting for Javi’s response until you heard the sounds of quiet sobs next to you, echoing the ones that had just left your mouth moments ago. “Javi… Baby, are you crying?” You cooed, laughing empathetically at your husband’s teary state, looking like he was crying harder than you had been. 

“Shut up…” He mumbled, quickly trying to wipe his wet, red face, doing his best to downplay the absolute wreck the thought of being a dad and having a family with you made him. He gave you another little shake in his broad grasp, making the both of you giggle out the rest of your joyful tears. “It makes me really happy, too. I never thought I was ever gonna get a chance to have all this. For a long time I just- I didn’t think it was gonna be in the cards for me, and as much as it hurt, I learned how to be okay with it. Thank you for wanting to give me a family. I’m so thankful for you. For everything. Te amo mucho, hermosa.” 

“Jesus, Jav, you’re gonna make me cry again!” You laughed, your eyes starting to water as you stared up at your sweet husband, wondering how in the world you had managed to get so goddamn lucky. 

“Sorry.” He sighed, planting another tender kiss on your forehead, bringing his hand to cup your cheek, cradling your jaw as his thumb wiped away the tears rolling down your cheeks. 

“You really think I’m already pregnant?” You couldn’t help but beam, both of your faces lighting up at the thought of a tiny baby Peña already starting to make a home in your belly for the next nine months. 

“Even if you’re not, at this rate I think it would be impossible for you to not be sometime soon.” The two of you laughed, rolling your eyes and shaking your head at Javi’s persistent need to prove that he was stronger than the lasting effects of your birth control and win out his own personal bet that you’d be pregnant after your first month of trying. “What do you think it’s gonna be?” 

“What? You mean the baby that may or may not be growing inside me right now?” You teased, raising a curious eyebrow at Javi. “Well, there’s a 50/50 chance it could be either, ya goof. But if you’re asking me what I hope it is, besides happy and healthy, obviously, I don’t know… growing up with 3 brothers and spending my whole life around them and their friends, I feel like I would be okay at raising a boy. But there’s a part of me that really really hopes it ends up being a girl.” 

“I really hope it’s a girl, too.” Your head perked up at Javi’s comment, tilting it up to see the big, goofy grin spread across his face. “I’d obviously be happy with either, but I just- God, I just always picture little mini versions of you running around our house and it makes me so happy. I hope that if we have daughters they end up just like you.” 

“You want more tiny, sarcastic assholes following you around all day? You are a brave man, Javier Peña.” You snorted, Javi rolling his eyes at your comment and your inability to stay serious for more than 30 seconds. 

“Pendejo. I’m being serious, Hermosa. You’re smart and beautiful and independent, and I know you’ll be such a good mom regardless, but I don’t know… I know you’d raise our girls to be just like you. Perfect little versions of their momma.” 

“You know those little girls are gonna have you wrapped around their finger, right? You can barely say no to the dog when he looks at you, let alone an actual baby.” 

“Well, I guess we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.” Javi sighed, wrapping his arms around you, flipping your back flat against the mattress, your chest caged to his as he peppered ticklish kisses across your face and neck, making you squeal and squirm in delight, slowly working his way down your body. “But for now…” He smirked, his lips pressing hot and heavy along your skin, “might as well make sure I do everything I can to make sure that’s a bridge we cross sooner rather than later, huh?” 

“You’re ridiculous.” You snickered, throwing your head back against your pillow as his kisses traveled lower and lower, his fingertips gripping into the meat of your thighs with a devilish grin growing from cheek to cheek. “I love you so much, Jav.” 

“I love you too, Osita. Let’s make you a Momma.” 

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