#i woke up and this was the first coherent thought i had

[auriannaventiwithcaramel]

nerdy prudes are bi

nerdy prudes are bi

every nerdy prude's into girls and also guys

bisexuals arise

not really a surprise

nerdy prudes, whether king or queen

or in between

you're in their dating scene

[carmsgarms]

Ya ever think about how Shar is such a shitty goddess she has to gaslight people into following her?

This bitch literally hijacked a Selunite rite of passage for baby Shadowheart and erased just enough of her memory to seem like she was protecting Shadowheart from Big Scary Wolves but the Wolves were actually her werewolf parents trying to protect her.

No wonder people don't like Shar worship.

[evevoli]

happy father's day to the dead dad in welly boots only tbh

[splatattackz]

what if abueloier is the eye

[dragonartist56]

RIP 2020 DreamSMP you would’ve loved Karma by Jojo Siwa🫡

[thethingything]

we have an especially bad migraine where I noticed us getting aura (mostly being pissed off and upset in a specific way) for several hours before it started and we've taken pain meds but I'm not sure they've actually helped. they have definitely given us side effects though and I feel very spaced out and nauseous and generally shit.

we've also had way worse ADHD symptoms for the last few days to the point of being pretty much unable to focus on anything besides like 2 things we've hyperfixated on. we've had so much trouble starting tasks and keep struggling to hold a train of thought or focus long enough to even figure out what we need to do each day despite having all our Habitica dailies to tell us.

our brain is all over the place and I'm not really sure what to do with it or what would help but it's just occurred to me that sometimes our ADHD gets really bad in the buildup to some of our worst migraines and now I'm just hoping that both the migraine and other shit ease off soon because I'd like to be able to function

[emma-is-swaggy-and-epic]

So you know how she-ra and he-man are canonically siblings in the original cartoons? (Twins iirc)

Now i've never watched the original shera OR the reboot so as far as i'm concerned, they never bring up heman in the reboot

....do you think that somewhere in the reboot universe, there's just a version of heman and the gang just hanging around doing god knows what.....do you think they'd all be equally as gay as the shera cast????

[cuddleprofiler]

FAINTING & FEVER - When you confess your deep buried feelings to your boss in your fever.

Summary: Hiding a fever? Check. Passing out? Check. Confessing your feelings to your boss? Wait woah?

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader, BAU x platonic!reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: fever, fainting, rest is good I guess.

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: This was supposed to be platonic but I didn't feel like it is romantic :) This is my first time writing any non-platonic work. All the pics I have inserted are more clear when clicked if you want to see (Tumblr did something). Positive Criticism is welcomed.

"So, what are you ladies up to tonight?" Morgan asked while driving, his focus on the road. You'd just finished a case, and as usual, Morgan was eager to make plans before another case thrust you back into the world's horrors.

"Well," JJ began with a sigh, eyebrows raised, "I'm going to spend the whole day resting with my boys." She finished with her radiant smile.

"What about you, Prentiss?" Morgan glanced at Emily in the passenger seat.

"No plans yet, but who knows? I might have something by the time we land."

"L/N?" Derek called out when he realized you hadn't answered, lost in your own world.

You sat beside Spencer, staring out the window, oblivious to your surroundings. The heat you felt was consuming every coherent thought.

"L/N?"

"Huh? What did you say?" you asked, turning your head so quickly that JJ and Spencer wondered how you didn't get whiplash. Your voice remained calm and soft.

"You okay?" Spencer asked, his hazel eyes filled with concern.

"Why wouldn't I be, Spencer?" you replied, mustering a small smile to maintain your façade.

"You just seem...down," he commented, studying you intently. You gave him another small smile, shook your head, and winced. Your head felt as if it had been struck by an invisible hammer. Spencer either didn't notice your wince or chose not to comment.

"You up for some fun tonight?" Morgan asked again, though you were barely aware.

"What fun?" you frowned. The way he said "fun" made you think it might not be the kind you'd enjoy.

"Seriously, sweet girl? You're spending way too much time with Reid. I'm talking about bars, drinks, and if you get lucky, then maybe—" Morgan started with a Cheshire grin, while your eyes widened.

"No," you said in a high-pitched tone, embarrassed at the thought of hooking up with a random guy when you already loved someone.

"What do you mean, 'no'? Come on. We don't get many days off, L/N. You should enjoy them when you can."

"Morgan, I can't," you said, shifting uncomfortably.

"And why is that, sweet girl?"

"Hey! Garcia will take offense if you call someone else 'sweet girl,'" you said with a smile, appreciating his use of a nickname for you.

"Nah. My baby girl will never be offended by this, and you're not just someone else," he replied confidently.

"But answer the question, sweet girl," he prompted, aware you were avoiding it. He assumed your hesitation was due to your reluctance to go out, knowing how you and Reid felt about drinking and socializing.

"I've got some work to do, Morgan. Also, I'm tired," you said, leaning your head back.

Morgan's expression changed instantly.

"Go straight home when we land, Y/N, not to Hotch's office. Whatever files you have to work on can wait. If I didn't know him better, I'd say he's making you do overtime."

"Exactly. Hotch will understand, and there's no need to tire yourself out," Spencer added softly.

Their concern warmed your heart. "Of course, gentlemen," you replied, amusing the others.

The conversation drifted back to their plans while you gazed out the window, watching amoeba-shaped clouds float slowly across the sky. The view was therapeutic, but you didn't tell them how awful you were feeling.

When you woke up that morning, it felt as if hell had descended upon Earth just for you. Your muscles ached, protesting and begging you to return to bed, but you couldn't. Lives were at stake, a case needed solving. Now, the muscle pain had given way to a headache and constant zoning out.

You longed to get home as soon as possible, yearning for your fluffy blankets to engulf you completely, save for your head. You hoped your phone might end up in a ditch for the day, allowing you to remain in your cozy cocoon until you felt well enough to face the world—and potential case calls—again.

Soon, you arrived at the airstrip, where Emily and JJ surrounded you.

"So, where's your mind wandering today?" Emily asked with a mischievous grin. Before you could answer, JJ chimed in.

"In dreams of Hotch, of course. Right, Y/N?" You quickly shushed her, glancing around to ensure no one had overheard.

"JJ, Emily, we're at the airstrip," you whispered urgently. "Someone might hear you. It's supposed to be a secret. Sometimes I think you and Garcia are determined to let Hotch find out." You began trudging toward the plane, feeling drained.

They both laughed and high-fived.

"We do want you two together," Emily said.

"You should tell him yourself," JJ added. "Besides, if he overhears by accident, it'll only speed up your love life."

"By the way, Y/N, will you only go out with us if Hotch is there too?" Emily teased.

"Guys!" you groaned as they laughed.

Your crush on Hotch had started early in your tenure, initially based on his looks. But it deepened into something more profound, to the point where his well-being affected you deeply. You felt terrified when he faced dangerous situations. That's when you knew you were in trouble.

There was no way he'd fall for someone who could barely speak to him. You had your reasons for avoiding him. The days leading up to this decision were hellish. Never had you stumbled over your words as much as you did then. And what did he do?

He always gave you a patient look and nodded softly, encouraging you to speak your mind. It was manageable until you started losing yourself in his eyes or staring at his face constantly. After that, you ensured you were never alone with him except when working on case files. You began doing this so he could go home early and rest, reasoning that a few extra files wouldn't impact your time.

You were startled from your reverie by the memory of Garcia suggesting that Hotch might like you too. You still don't believe her, but a girl could hope.

"If it gets too much, I want you to pull out."

"Sir?" you asked, confused, looking up from your gun at your boss, who was surveying the team preparing to ambush the unsub's house.

"Everyone has off cases, L/N, but with time, most of us have learned to deal with it. Still, we pull ourselves out when needed. You're still new. So, pull out if necessary. Do you understand me?" he said, now looking at you, his gaze sweeping over your shorter form. You looked up at him intently, lost in his eyes until he raised an eyebrow. You could have sworn you saw his eyes soften slightly.

"Yes, sir."

"Call me Hotch, Y/N." With that, he walked towards the rest of the team as you hurried to catch up.

Back at the FBI building, you dashed to Garcia's lair. She was your first friend, and you both had a tendency to ramble about various topics. Sometimes Reid joined in. As soon as you saw her, you hugged her. Hugging Garcia was like therapy—you could feel your worries, guilt, and other negative emotions leaving your body. You felt yourself relax, your body lighter. You called it "Garcia magic”! It was an added bonus that Garcia was fond of physical affection.

When you told her about Hotch's words and your feeling that he was worried and all other incidents where he acted the same—though you thought that was impossible—she flashed her beaming smile, all her white teeth showing. Her eyes, however, held the amusement of knowing something you didn't.

"I didn't know sweet cheeks, he cares for you this much." Garcia mused, clearly pleased by what you'd shared.

This much? And what do you mean?" you asked, your curiosity evident.

"Hmm hmm. He looks at you the same way Will looks at JJ. He's so soft with you and he isn't like this with anybody. Maybe except Jack of course."

“Garcia there’s no way in hell he likes me. Maybe he was trying to be sweet.” you asked her trying not to get your hopes up.

This is a paradox. You are sure. Damn sure! Garcia began laughing while you gave her an incredulous look. She didn’t stop until you threw a teddy at her. “My sweet sweet girl, Hotch is never sweet with anyone. Ask Emily about it if you are unsure but nope nada in my so many years of being at BAU, he’s never sweet with anyone.”

"Maybe you are overthinking this Garcia. Hotch and I don't even know each other.”, you mumbled looking at your hands in your lap.

“That is an argument I will have with you on another day but what I'm saying is that Hotch likes you.", she says with a small almost sad smile.

"If you want you can observe him. You're a profiler baby. Yow will know.", she added gleefully.

Henceforth, you observed Hotch as profiling team members was off-limit. He had a tendency to smile at you softly and he didn’t offer others the same amount of options that he did to you , but you attributed this to being new. You were certain he'd show his more authoritative side once you were no longer considered the newest member. Definitely!

Lost in these thoughts, you suddenly felt your vision blur and your surroundings distort.

"Whoa! You okay?" Emily asked as she grabbed your forearm, while JJ held the other. They exchanged concerned looks when you didn't answer immediately. You shook your head slightly and replied,

"Yeah, yeah. Just slipped."

They didn't seem convinced but didn't press further.

"Be careful," JJ said, patting your shoulder.

"Yeah, of course," you mumbled, trying to regain your composure.

Hotch and Rossi chatted as they walked, their conversation drifting from Jack's football to other topics. Before they knew it, they'd arrived at the airstrip. As Hotch boarded the plane, he froze in surprise. You were seated next to his usual spot—an unexpected sight, given your habit of avoiding him outside of group settings or work situations. Your presence there felt nothing short of miraculous.

Not wanting to give Rossi a chance to tease him, Hotch quickly sat beside you. He was certain you hadn't noticed his arrival, as you were deeply engrossed in the case report—something you rarely worked on during flights.

His attention shifted back to Rossi when the older agent began discussing plans for a pasta dinner. From the corner of his eye, Hotch caught you glancing up, offering both him and Rossi a small smile before burying yourself in the file again. It was odd, considering the report wasn't due for days.

He didn't want to finish it quickly, knowing an empty home awaited him. No one would be there to greet him—just silent walls. Jack was on vacation with Jessica's family for the next few days, leaving Hotch alone in the city. He stole another quick glance at you, resisting the urge to look more often.

Hotch was sure he would never fall in love again after Hayley. He loved her from such a young age and so much that loving someone else felt betraying the love he had bestowed upon Hayley all those years. Even after getting a divorce, he didn't stop loving her completely. Sometimes, he liked to believe they separated not because they fell out of love, but because their love was so intense that their arguments became too painful. However, he knew this wasn't the reality. He sighed and pulled out his file.

His thoughts soon drifted to you. Lately, contemplating love inevitably led him to think of you. Sometimes you don't know what hit you until it does. Falling in love with you was the same. He was falling in and never realised until the day he got a letter. From you.

Hotch had slowly fallen in love with you. That was the truth of his life, he stayed away from for a long time. How could he stay away when your every action seemed to win his heart anew? Each time he learned something new about you, he fell a little deeper.

You were a sweet addition to the team. It didn't mean you were all the time sunshine. Everyone learnt that the hard way. He mentally chuckled at the fight you and Morgan had over dark chocolate to the extent you were ready to beat him black and blue. However, your sweet gestures towards everyone on the team always warmed his heart.

He reminded himself to remain professional. After all, he was on a plane with a group of profilers who could decipher his feelings in minutes if given the chance.

"L/N, can you tell me about the—"

"L/N?" Hotch called out again, surprised you didn't hear him the first time. Still, you didn't reply. Rossi also looked up.

"Y/N? Y/N!" He said, touching your shoulder.

"Yeah, yeah. What happened?" You looked like a deer caught in headlights, making both Hotch and Rossi confused.

"Nothing happened. I was just asking you about the case," he replied, looking at you. You were looking...different. It was as if every laugh and joy had been drained from your life.

"I'll be right back," you said, standing up and moving before Hotch had a chance to stop you.

The moment you stood up, you knew you shouldn't have done that. You were far better sitting down. Now the pounding in your head intensified, along with the feeling of being shaken up to the point where you could see everything oscillating. You tried to keep yourself still, hoping your surroundings would become normal.

The next thing you knew, everything went black.

Hotch saw you swaying and moved instinctively. He caught you, one hand on your waist, the other on your shoulder, trying to keep you up while you were dead weight. However, it wasn't as easy as it seemed in the movies.

"Y/N? Y/N. Hey, wake up!"

"Y/N!" He squeezed your body against him.

However, his yelling got him nowhere. You didn't respond, lying still in his arms as if you were taking a nap. Hotch would have believed it if he hadn't seen you go down in front of his eyes.

"Y/N," he called out again, softly this time, yet the response was the same. He swept your hair back from your face.

Unable to keep you up, he gently lowered both of you onto the aisle. He moved his hands to your shoulders, gently shaking you, but you showed no sign of waking up.

He didn't notice anyone else until he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up and saw Rossi sitting beside him, looking alarmed by the happenings. Morgan was above your head. The rest of the team was also hovering.

"What happened, man?" Morgan asked while taking the sweater Reid offered and putting it under your head.

Hotch didn't answer. He himself didn't know what was wrong with you. One minute, you were standing and the next plummeting down like the apple which led to the discovery of gravity. His hand went to your cheeks, where he felt the heat radiating. His frown appeared and deepened as he touched your forehead.

"She's burning up!" Hotch said worriedly, still keeping his tone full of calmness while his heart was trying to beat out of his chest. Having a fever is one thing but passing out from it is entirely another. He couldn't help but feel the small burning sensation in his chest at the thought of being ill, even if it was a fever.

You could hear people talking, but why would there be people at your home? You scrunched your face and blinked your eyes multiple times before fully opening them. Everything was blurry at first, but soon it became clear, along with the horrible pounding in your head. You tried to sit up, but a firm pair of arms pushed you back.

"Hey Bella, don't try to get up. Stay still."

"Wha-what happened?"

"You fainted," Hotch said. The rest of them had dispersed, knowing Hotch would take great care of you and that a crowd wouldn't help much.

"I don't feel good," you groaned, your hand massaging your head.

"Yeah, I gathered that much. Tell me what's exactly wrong, L/N?" Hotch had your hand in his, rubbing it softly to ease the pain in any way he could.

"I don't feel good," you mumbled again with half-closed eyes. You were mostly disoriented from what Hotch could figure out.

"You have a fever."

"I do?"

It was taking you time to gather what was happening. He blamed the fainting and fever. It took you time, but you slowly opened your eyes fully when you noticed Hotch still sitting at the edge of the sofa. He still held your hand, and your legs were on his lap. Being in touch with him felt like second nature; you didn't even notice until you opened your eyes. You quickly tried to pull back your legs and hand, but Hotch stopped you with his hold.

"Don't move so much, Y/N. Relax," his voice soft and calming, as always.

You sat in silence for the rest of the journey, which wasn't very long. You were clutching onto his forearm as he helped you sit up to go home. When you came outside the plane,

"Hotch, I can go home by myself," you began, your voice small, hoping to regain some of the dignity you lost after fainting in front of your entire team.

"Y/N, you can't stand straight, and you want to drive home by yourself?" Hotch asked with a raised eyebrow.

"There are other ways to be suicidal than this, sweet girl," Morgan quipped, walking beside you, not that you noticed. You looked up at him and then at Hotch, concern shining in both of their eyes.

"I'm not joking," you huffed.

"Neither are we," Morgan said.

"Y/N, it's final. I'm taking you home," Hotch ordered. That's what it felt like to you.

Hotch had an arm around your waist, supporting you as your body threatened to collapse. He hurried towards your apartment, aware of your rising fever. He couldn't give you medicine without food, but he was grateful for your unfiltered speech—it revealed the extent of your discomfort.

"You know, Hotch?" you began as he fumbled with the door. You leaned against the wall for support.

"Dahlias are my favourite flowers. They symbolize change, dignity, and elegance."

"They're native to Mexico, right?" he replied as you entered the apartment.

"Yeah! You know about them?" you asked, turning your face abruptly.

"Easy, honey. No sudden moves," he cautioned. "And yes, I've picked up a few facts over the years."

"I've always loved them. So colourful, bright, and beautiful," you laughed softly.

Hotch had never heard you speak so freely. He found himself enchanted by your voice, certain you could rival Reid in flower trivia.

After settling you on the sofa, Hotch fetched water, fruit, and medicine. You tossed your shoes aside and reluctantly took the pills, groaning as you slumped back.

"You should change into something more comfortable," Hotch suggested, removing his own shoes.

You looked at him, startled. Realizing his phrasing, he quickly clarified, "I mean, you should put on some comfy clothes."

At his insistence, you changed. When you returned, Hotch had shed his coat and tie, his shirt partially unbuttoned.

"Aren't you going home?" you asked, confused.

"I'll stay tonight, in case you need anything."

"There's no need, Hotch. You must be exhausted from the case. Go home and rest. I'll be fine."

"Y/N, it's better if someone's with you tonight. You fainted on the plane. I wouldn't be able to relax not knowing how you're doing," he admitted, his voice soft.

You smiled at his thoughtfulness and curled up on the sofa with a blanket and pillow. You both decided to watch Star Wars.

Partway through the movie, you turned to Hotch, staring intently.

"You know, Hotch?"

"Yes?"

"I love you. Like, really, really love you," you said with a lopsided smile.

Hotch froze, completely still. He hadn't been this motionless since he first held Jack, afraid of hurting his newborn son. He never imagined you reciprocated his feelings, but he knew if he didn't get the conversation going right now, he not going to know about your feelings when you are not loopy due to medicine.

“Yea?”

"Mm-hmm. You're so wonderful and adorable and just... so cute. Yeah, you're intimidating at work, but the rest of the time? Totally cute."

"Oh, am I?"

Though your tongue was loosened by the medicine, you were more lucid than you let on. Having suppressed these feelings for so long, you couldn't stop now that you'd started. You wanted to tell him everything—him about all those feelings that you shouldn't have about him but you do, how couldn't help but fall for him slowly and every day seeing him made your day.

He was so handsome! His pretty dark brown chocolate-coloured eyes are swoon-worthy. Whenever you look into them, you feel hypnotized, unable to look away from them but not being present in the time; you often find yourself lost in them, forgetting his words as you gaze at him. Right now, he was looking directly at you, and you were drowning in his gaze.

How does he not realize the effect he has when he looks at someone like this?

Hotch's smile grew with each word you spoke.

"You're so handsome, ridiculously handsome. Have you seen yourself under that table lamp? You look like some movie hero poring over case files."

He blushed and glanced away at your flood of compliments. You cupped his face, turning it back to you, your eyes wide and intent. His smile made your frown melt into the biggest grin he'd ever seen on you. You looked beautiful.

"I just really like you, but I know you don't like me," you said, your voice small.

He frowned at your words.

"I love you too, honey, but I'll give you the full answer when you're well enough to remember it. Word for word," he replied softly.

You squealed with delight.

"You aren't just saying this to spare my feelings, right?" you mumbled a few moments later.

He cradled your face in his hands. "I would never say such a thing just to spare someone's feelings, Y/N. I love you. More than you can imagine."

Your questioning continued throughout the movie, but you refused to turn it off.

"You must have had many admirers in college. How many girlfriends did you have?" you asked, your head resting on his shoulder while his hand on your waist pulled you closer. Both of you kept your eyes on the TV.

"I only had one."

"No, you're lying. You're far too handsome to have had only one girlfriend your entire life."

'You can become the second.'

"What did you say?"

"I didn't say anything, sweetheart."

"Did you just call me sweetheart?"

"You're imagining things, L/N. It's a common symptom of high fever. Of course, I didn't call you sweetheart, honey."

"Oh, but I—you just called me—"

"What?"

"Never mind. I must be imagining it."

"Yes, you're definitely imagining things."

[lightwing-s]

𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍

pairing: simon "ghost" riley x reader

It must’ve been early when the knocking woke you up. Rolling in the warmth of the bed, you struggled to get up and once you did, you walked towards the door on pure muscle memory, still too tired to proceed with any coherent thoughts.

You opened it automatically, rubbing your heavy eyes and letting out a yawn.

“Ghost, Price and I were thinking that maybe…” you heard a voice you faintly remembered blurt out words you vaguely put together. “Yn? What are you doing in Simon's room?”

Freezing at the spot, your eyes dart open, as wide as they could possibly be, and a burst of energy runs through your body, making your mind jolt alight, finally deciding to work.

“Fuck.” you whisper, as you could hear the sound of objects falling and stumbling steps rushing to your side. Simon, still shirtless, holding up his loose sweatpants and whose mask had been clumsy put on, only one of his eyes properly fitting through it’s proper hole, arrived beside you breathlessly, pulling Gaz into the room and closing the door immediately thereafter.

Pushing the Sergeant onto the unmade bed, it took him a moment to catch his breath, spinning around on the same spot on the floor. He had fixed his mask, and the moment his eyes caught yours you could clearly understand his message.

We’re fucked.

Your eyes were restless, moving from Simon and Gaz so quickly it was making you dizzy. Your hands tugged at Simon’s shirt, dressing you like a dress, but barely covering your legs, ones you were not used to exposing in front of your comrades.

It was awkward, this whole situation an awkward mess you had put you all in.

I’m sorry, you mouthed and pleaded with your eyes as Simon stopped in front of you, his hands reaching for your arm, rubbing it warm, consoling you as much as he could as you two sulked in unwanted company.

“Can you two explain what’s going on?” asked your “guest”. Exchanging glances once more, you two fought over who would break him the news. “Or am I supposed to make my own conclusions?”

“‘S pretty obvious, innit?” Simon replied, dryly.

“I wanted to hear it from you, it looks too surreal.” he said, leaning back and straightening his position, a smirk spreading on his face, amusement evident in his eyes. “The Lt and Yn shagging.”

You looked back at Simon once more, his arms crossed on his chest making his biceps look twice their size, and his clear crunched jawline, probably planning three hundred different ways to murder his teammate. Touching his shoulder, you asked for allowance, watching as he considered the options before nodding in return.

“Gaz.” you called, catching his attention. “We’re married.”

Gaz’s head bobbed forward as his eyes almost jumped out of its socket, questioning the shocking news and his own reality. To confirm your words, showed him your hands, more specifically your ring finger, where a pair of letters, ‘SR’, were tattooed secretly on its side. The Lieutenant followed suit, uncrossing his arms to expose your initials drawn on the same spot in his ring finger. 

You two were married. Married, and no one in the base knew it. Hell, they didn’t even know you two had a thing for each other, was going through Gaz’s mind.

“Married?” he repeated, more an affirmation than a question, trying to process it in his head. “I can’t wait till Johnny knows it.”

“Johnny can’t know it.” you immediately cut him. “Please, Gaz. I-it’s…” private, you wanted to add, our lives. But a lump in your throat caught you, feeling everything you’d build crumbling down. 

You’d been so careful. You and Simon had taken every possible precaution since the first night you hooked up, not wanting anyone to find out your silly “mistake”, to the day of your wedding two years ago, the most important day in your entire life. And now the secret was done for, days counted even if Gaz were kind enough to keep it to himself.

“Private.” Gaz completed your words after a brief minute of silence, and the hope in your chest grew. “I get it. You know I’m not a snitch.” Standing up, he continued. “Your secret is safe with me.” and extending his hand towards your husband he wished. “Congratulations, Simon.”

Your husband, after second thoughts, shook Gaz’s hand in his, evident force used to make sure a warning was heard: you say anything, you’re dead. However, knowing him like no one else, you notice signs no one would, and the slight drop in his shoulder lets you know he trusted his Sergeant.

“Congratulations you too, Yn.” he turned to you, giving you a tight hug instead, lifting you off your feet for a brief moment before returning you to the floor. “Does this make me the best man over Johnny?”

Fishing for a pillow, Simon threw it straight into Gaz’s head as he rushed out of your room, giggles heading out with him. You too stood laughing, enjoying knowing your secret paradise wasn’t done for yet, and trying to calm down your sulking and annoyed husband.

.

a/n: short drabble to announce i'm now taking simon and other cod men requests ♡

[six-of-cringe]

hello yes i am Seeing i am Looking and i am Envying how succinctly you sum up what took paragraphs for my loquacious ass to get around to

kaz and wylan are very much foils, and while much has been said about their similarities and how their stories parallel each other, it’s also worth noting that while kaz gives up his rietveld identity to survive in the barrel, wylan clings to what makes him wylan throughout his time in the barrel. when kaz loses everything, he throws away goodness and honesty; when wylan loses everything, he clings to goodness and honesty because it’s all he has left. they have fundamentally different backgrounds which obviously influence their choices and outlooks on life, but it’s interesting nonetheless!

[patchiko]

GIVE US MORE ABOUT NSFW AL JAYYY PLSSS

HRHSJSGAHS OKOK!!

NSFW Arkham Knight / Ak!Jason Todd !! <3

detailed smut !!

(wet dream, praise, soft sex 2 somewhat rough sex, not super long, , im so obsessed with his brain)

rq are open :3

‘tis under the cut!! :p

M’SO EXCITED TO WRITE MORE ABT HIM M’SHAKING AND THROWIFN UP

NGL, i think one of the only reason he would come to terms with liking someone is bc he had a wet dream…

listen,, 99% of his dreams are nightmares, and you just changed his fuckin statistics for the possibility to the 1% chance of him coming in his sleep and being able to rest well after.

he has mixed feeling abt this..

on one hand hes like ‘wow cool i get to sleep well,’ but on the other hands hes like staring at his boxers and hes like ‘but at what cost…’

but oh,, he just knew he was fucked when it first happened and he woke up

after many , many years of overthinking, and his mind not being able to shut up … the thing that made his ass get so quiet was a fuckin’ wet dream

uuhhggrr it was such a good one tooo (hes internally cringing so hard)

ONE hand in his hair, softly rubbing his scalp, the other massaging his shoulder to the base of his neck. Jason has both hands on your hips. Being so gentle yet passionate with each thrust, fighting back the nastiest sounds begging to leave his mouth. So he starts kissing you, open mouth kissing your jaw to just between where your neck and shoulders connect. The noises you start letting out make his breathing stutter for a second. His kissing gets more passionate, soft sucking at your skin, and he’s feverishly rubbing and grabbing at your hips.

The wet sounds of him fucking you get louder. Poor guy is just barely stopping himself from rutting into you. His strokes were slowly getting more rapid but nonetheless coordinated, hitting that spot that had you loudest. Jason was marginally coherent but he’s still trying his hardest to make you feel good. Your body returning the favor by squeezing him so lovingly and he just cant fight back the soft gasps he lets out in between his strokes. The wet sounds, the lewd noises, the details of your body and skin he felt every time he pushed into you. All of this just because of him, just for him? You babble to him how good he was doing, murmuring how good it feels between moans, and it has him gripping your hips.

JASONS rocking himself roughly into you, but its that ever so loving hand, still gently massaging his neck and scalp. That sensation has his eyes rolling to the back of his head. Soft curses leaving his mouth. He buries his face right next to your head and has to grab the bed sheets just for an last attempt to stay composed. But the moaning gets louder, and you don’t stop gently massaging his hair.

So he can’t stop the “mmh, mmh, mmh” ‘s leaving his mouth with every rapid push of himself. He can’t stop the way his hands trail down to your legs to spread you wider for him. Grabbing at your thighs as he fucks himself through.

N’ just as he cums with a breathy gasp, his eyelashes are fluttering and eyes rolling to the back of his head. Letting his body weight press onto you and closing his eyes shut, trying to control his stammered breaths,,

he fuckin’ wakes up..!

First thought was “what the fuck.”

genuinely startled, he doesn’t freak out bad but he like slowly reaches to touch his pillow.

his mind was so blank, couldn’t tell if it was because of the wet spot on his sweatpants or he was genuinely so stunned.

*hes like scratching his head and looking at his pants.*

hes goes to take a shower and his eyes are so blown out he looks like one of those cat memes

but his mind is soo quiet,,

in my brain at the very back of his mind he’s like ‘whys there so much of it.’ HSIGSISHSISHSIDHS HES COMPLETELY SERIOUS TOO???

he’s taking a shower and his brain, oddly, isn’t foggy, not dissociating, just feels so here.

which is horrible because that means he really has to directly face his feelings

KRILLING MYSELF WHY IS HEART TO HEART PLAYING WHILE I WRITE THIS???

heart to heart, heart to heart, heart to heart <3

Next time he sees you he feels so odd, he knows it a natural thing that can happen.. but it was so

djsksnkdnd

tingling under his skin sensation is yelling at him to leave, and he does.

hes cringing

he likes you…

he cringes harder

ghosts you for awhile

realistically doesn’t want anything like that to happen ANYTIME soon

but is it weird that he kinda wants it to happen at all?

MENTAL GYMNASTICS COMMENCE !!

but when he stops ghosting you for awhile, and comes back to see you still being just as patient as you were every time you saw him before,

arms always open for him, food waiting for him, a sweet smile. and with your own patience, his own patience begins to thin.

Everytime he leaves you its a little harder for him to not come back

that tingly feeling under his skin slowly becomes a craving for just your presence. thats all he wants.

he doesn’t need to fuck you when he just has your eyes on him.

“what you run from is what you end up chasing.”

live footage of arkham knights brain cells falling for u insta reel

TEEHEE i loved writing this it was so fun, rq/inbox is open !! feedback is always appreciated >:3

[endereies]

BREAK UP DRUG - MS - PART 2

No Nut November - Day 23

NNN Masterlist...

-➤ When you stay over at the triplet's house, you confront Matt

Part 1

“He what.” You were sat down in between Nick and Chris, tears forming in your eyes anytime you uttered his name.

“He didn’t even say why! Just that he couldn’t tell me. Did I do something?” Solemn gasps pass your lips as you begin to sob once more. It didn’t stop. I couldn’t stop. Skin had been scratched on your wrists, a sign of the failed grasp you had on him. It was just too much now.

The brothers gave a knowing glance to each other while you sniffled into your jumper. For the first time in months, it wasn’t Matt’s.

“D-do either of you know why…?” The look on your face shattered them, of course they knew why, but like Matt, they couldn’t tell you. “I’m sorry, we have no idea, we can try and talk with him?”

Nick’s voice was promising, a chance to get an explanation, anything. That was enough for now. Chris quickly got up to grab some tissues and chocolate he had stored in the fridge and handed it to you. With gratitude, you smiled up at him. Your voice couldn’t be trusted to be coherent.

Eventually, you fell silent, laying against the cushions of the couch. Sniffles grew quiet and you just stared at nothing. Chris and Nick were alongside you the entire time but they knew you needed space.

“Hey…kid? Do you want to sleep in my room tonight?” Soft eyes looked up to Nick as he offered you a safe space. “Shouldn’t I get home, what about Matt?”

“He said he was busy tonight, but it is up to you.”

The nails of your fingers protruded the underneath of others as you came to a decision. It was like part of you wanted to leave this place and never come back, but it was all you knew. Your home felt a little too empty, too quiet. “Yes please…”

“Alright, you know where everything is, I’ll see you in the morning.” The triplet just looked at you pitifully, not envying you situations.

Hours flew by and by surprise, you fell asleep. The comfort in familiarity brought you to ease. Until voices woke you up.

“Are you fucking serious, Matt! You love that girl. You didn’t think to talk to either of us about it?” It was Chris, angry. Matt’s name sobered your thoughts, and you sat up quickly. Surely you were still dreaming…

Nick lied peacefully beside you, his glasses shining against the hallway light. It fell silent until Matt spoke up.

“Of course I love her, do you think I fucking stopped? I was prepared to do anything for her, so I did.” He didn’t sound like himself, it was sharper.

“So, you thought that shoving her away and into the dark was the best choice?”

“It was either that or Arlo would do some shit, he knows about her Chris. I let the relationship get into my head and I’ve jeopardised her safety.” It was obvious it was about you, one thing that Matt wasn’t was disloyal.

“You chose your little drug group over her; do you know how pathetic that is.”

That made your chest ache. Drugs? He was always clean; he never gave you a reason to think otherwise. Matt was always so adamant about not letting you near them. Maybe it was because he knew what it did to people first hand.

“That is one of our only incomes, but that’s not the point.” The voices grew louder as you grew closer.

“Then what is! Tell me Matt, because I have spent the past three hours consoling her because of you.” Matt stammered before responding.

“She is! Y/n is the point, if she was kept near me, she’d become a target, you know what they are like. If they find out that she is the reason why I’ve fucked up so many times… I don’t want her hurt.”

You now stood at the entrance of the kitchen, staring at the two brothers. Chris was pissed, and disappointed. Although that was easy to tell by their voices. Matt had a stray tear fall down his cheek. You never saw him sad, not around you at least. Was there a reason?

“Matt?”

Both the boys perked up at your voice. Chris was more stunned than Matt was, he smiled at you before walking out the room, grabbing a stray can of Pepsi as he left. Matt just looked at you, so gently. Why did he have to look at you like that?

“Drugs? What is going on, am I finally going to get any information from you.” You didn’t want to cry, but his own tears made your body choke up.

“Baby… I-“ The nickname didn’t even shock you; you were too attached to throw that away.

“I don’t want lies, Matt”

“I ended things…to keep you safe, protected.” He watched your eyes, how they were expectant for more before he gave in and spoke again. “Yes, drugs. It’s so stupid, I know. But it’s income. I swear on my life I’ve never touched them, I don’t use, baby.” His voice quivered and it broke you, the tears visible on your faces from the light above.

“Protect me? Matt, you hurt me.”

“Y/n, let me explain. I sell drugs, with a few other people. I hadn’t meant to but my had revolved so much around you that I started fucking up my job. It was my last chance to pick between you or my work. I chose my work to keep you safe. They know all about you, they can hurt you, you don’t understand.” He rambled continuously, spewing words at me. Both his hands talked with him, and it was almost hard to keep up.

“You didn’t mean to revolve around me? What am I, some sort of side piece to you?” He hadn’t meant it that way, you both knew it but it was just so hard to understand each other.

“No wait- I didn’t mean it like tha-“

“Don’t Matt. I- I’m not in the mood.” Walking away felt the same as before, as cold at least. You left him again in the dark, alone.

Just as last time.

@melliflws @yuhayeee @st7rnioioss @sturn-bugz @bueckerrss @worldlxvlys @raysmayhem-72 @patscorner @y0urm4m @bernardsbendystraws @junnniiieee07 @luverboychris @jnkvivi @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @shorthairchris @colorthecosmos444 @anabethinking @zay-sturns @anyaa2s @emilyfaith2003 @jassturn @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @sturniolosiphone @ribread03 @slutf4rmatt @spaghetti835928383 @flouvela

© ENDEREIES 2024

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

*NSFW* I'll keep you warm (Yandere!Lynx Shifter X GN!Reader)

CW: Intense temperature exposure , Yandere behavior, dub-con, dead dove, imprisonment/abduction

Inspired by @lonelyafacy 's monster suggestion ❤️

Mother Nature was a cruel and indifferent witch, unforgiving towards those foolish enough to tread her wilderness. (Reader) smacked their dying flashlight, becoming numb to the harsh winter cold through their snowsuit.

The weather had turned for the worse, changing from a snowy winter's day into a blizzard that lasted into the night, separating (Reader) from their group. Their lips were stuck together with frozen blood, and their eyes could barley stay open. The snow coming down was deceptively sharp, nicking their cheeks above the slipping scarf and turning their skin into fragile paper.

Although they pushed on, trying to use the stars amongst the flurry of white as their guide, their limbs were losing their feeling, and (Reader) was beginning to wonder if it was worth the battle. The flashlight flickered again as though it could hear their thoughts. (Reader's) knees buckled, causing them to collapse by the base of a tree. They pulled their limbs in under their body, and fell unconscious, incapable of keeping themselves awake through the cold.

Am I dead?

(Reader) smelled something cooking before they realized they felt warmth. They hadn't been anywhere near civilization, so the first semi coherent thought they had was that they had died and this was heaven. Until their muscles began twitching in pain. A large hand pressed (Reader) back into a mound of furs when they forced themselves to move. The hand was warm and strong, even through the blankets (Reader) could feel it.

"Sleep." A gravelly voice commanded.

(Reader) kept their eyes closed, face mostly buried in the cloud like bedding. "Where am I?"

"My home. I found you outside." The unknown man responded while moving around the home, floorboards creaking under his weight. "Sleep more. It'll hurt less." His sentences were short and curt, but (Reader) didn't mind. Whoever he was had saved their life, so he couldn't be too bad of a person. (Reader) fell asleep again.

After thirteen hours (Reader) woke up and was able to sit up without pain, still feeling exhausted despite sleeping for such a long time. Their stomach hurt from hunger. "Hello?" They called out for whoever had rescued them.

A giant entered into view, wearing a hood that obscured his face from (Reader). He held out a wooden bowl filled with some kind of stew. "Can you eat?"

(Reader) reached out from the blankets, immediately going into shock when they saw their own naked arms. "Where are my clothes?"

"Drying. You think I'd put you sopping wet in my bed?"

Embarrassed, (Reader) turned red, ashamed for doubting their hero for even a second. They grabbed the bowl, thanking the man quietly.

"The blizzard has gotten worse. Even I can't leave right now. Once the storm has passed I'll point you in the direction you need to go. Until then, stay warm. Heal up."

"...Thank you."

"You already said that."

"That was for the food. Thank you for saving me."

Although he had his back turned to (Reader) they could see him tense under their words. (Reader) assumed he was uncomfortable with their presence, based on how he kept his face hidden. "My name is (Reader)."

"You don't need to know my name." The man's response was almost panicked, growling as he stormed out of the room.

(Reader) was left upset over the fact that they seemed to anger their savior. He must be anti social..

They finished the bowl of stew and waited under the fur blankets, unable to take care of their dish without walking around in the nude. After some time he returned, taking the bowl without a word, his hand seemed huge in comparison to (Reader's).

"Thank you." They smiled up politely, hoping he was looking. The man shuddered again, hurrying away with the bowl. (Reader) cleared their throat. "Are my clothes dry yet?"

"Your jacket was frozen solid when I found you. It took a few hours just to thaw. Everything is still damp."

"Why were you outside in this weather?"

"I was on my way back from some last minute hunting and gathering."

"Ah, I see. Thank you. Again."

"There is no need to thank me." His body seemed to relax. (Reader) smiled, hoping that this meant they were wearing him down.

"You saved my life. I got separated from my friends and couldn't find my way in the dark. I would have died out there if it wasn't for you." (Reader) spoke as sincerely as they could. "You're my hero."

He took a deep breath. "I have... lived alone for a very long time. No one knows that I am here. I almost... left you, when I found you."

(Reader's) heart grew heavy with guilt. "I promise I won't tell anyone about you." They briefly imagined that under his cloak was a kind of Quasimodo esque being, who risked his identity to save them.

Even without seeing his face the man seemed surprised, turning to (Reader) and staring from under his hood.

"Cain."

(Reader) gave a large toothy grin. "It's nice to meet you, Cain."

They sat together in a strangely comfortable silence, before a gurgle reminded (Reader) that, unfortunately, they were still human. "Do you have a restroom?"

His relaxed demeanor stiffened again. "It is.. down the hall." He quickly handed an oversized shirt to (Reader) before turning his back for privacy, and pointes in the direction of the facilities.

(Reader) threw the shirt on without thinking too much about it, and painfully hopped to the toilet. The building was a cozy little cabin, (Reader) was just now realizing, with pictures hung up on the wall of a family. They wondered if it was Cain's family. But the need to go was stronger than their curiosity.

They collapsed onto the toilet before realizing that there was an odd smell in the bathroom. It wasn't the normal bad stench of a toiletries, but it smelled rotten.

In the corner of the room was a pile of clothes, and other than that the restroom seemed to be empty, with nothing that could be causing such a smell standing out to (Reader). (Reader) didn't want to be snoopy, but... They finished hurriedly, praying that Cain couldn't hear them, and picked up the clothing. The clothes were heavy, torn into shreds and soaked in old, dried blood. A chill ran down (Reader's) spine. Cain didn't want anyone to know he was here. He considered leaving me to die to keep that secret.

How far could I make it in just a shirt?

They left the restroom, trying their best to appear normal. The family on the walls taunted them. Did the blood belong to one of them?

Cain sat by the fire, still hiding under his cloak. Next to him was (Reader's) clothes, hung up on the back of a chair. Maybe I'm just jumping to conclusions. (Reader) sighed, placing a hand on their heart to muffle it's pounding. He still saved me.

(Reader) touched their shirt, feeling the warm dampness and was relieved, because it meant Cain hadn't been lying about that at least. "How long do you think this storm will last?"

"Hopefully just the night. It could last up to a week though."

They shivered at the thought. "Do you have a couch I can sleep on? I wouldn't want to take your bed. Again."

"You can take the bed."

"I'm really fine-"

"Take the bed."

(Reader) could feel the adrenaline shoot to the tips of their toes. "O-okay." Although there was a smile on their face, the previous comfort they felt around Cain was dead. They had trusted him so much simply because he rescued them that they had forgotten that Cain was still a stranger.

Cain grabbed (Reader's) wrist as they passed, his hand engulfing their forearm with his inhumanly large mits. The air became heavy, and (Reader) could feel their arm sweating in his strong grasp.

"Your hand smells like blood."

Frightened, (Reader) smacked at Cain with their free hand, knocking his hood back. Although his face looked only a few years older than (Reader) his shaggy hair was a light grey, and atop his head were two pointed ears, pressed back against his scalp. If it weren't for the coloration, (Reader) CO m wouldn't have noticed the ears at all with how flatly they laid against his head. Shocked, he released (Reader's) arm, giving them enough time bolt out the front door, back into the blizzard.

Snowflakes pierced their skin as they ran, and the warmth they had gained in the cabin was gone the moment they left it's protective embrace, robbed by the harsh environment. Barefoot, (Reader) ran in a random direction, not capable of rational thought. With fight, flight, or freeze, they learned in that moment what kind of person they were.

Between the clouds masking the stars and the onslaught of snow, (Reader) was left completely blind. Without any clothes it felt like their muscles were shredding in their legs. (Reader's) legs gave out much more easily than they had the first time.

(Reader) could barely hear Cain's footsteps above the roar of the wind. Through the trees a large grey monster stalked into view, walking on its hind legs like a man, it's terrifying size was more reminiscent of a bear's. It's ears were flattened, and there was an almost human like expression of disappointment on its face.

"What were you thinking, running off into the woods?" It's voice was hoarse, but it was recognizably Cain's.

As he approached his fur receded, shrinking back down into his more human form, still with animal ears, now naked in the snow. He bent over (Reader's) violently shivering form as they crumbled.

"Did you forget that there was a storm?"

(Reader's) eyes stung as they tried to cry. "Please don't kill me." They weakly pleaded.

"Why would I save you, only to kill you later?" His warm breath thawed (Reader's) cheek. "You were unconscious for a long time when I found you. I thought you were dead. Unlike myself, you needed shelter suitable for a human. So I took one. I didn't have time to clean up everything. I needed to bring back everything I had caught to begin preparing a meal for when you awoke and making it comfortable for when I would eventually make you mine, so I was hoping that you would understand. That I killed them for you."

Cain's hot tongue licked (Reader's) cheek, the juxtaposition between the extreme cold and his sudden warmth made their skin feel like it was being torn off. (Reader) gasped out in pain, too cold to scream.

"I really did almost leave you in the snow. Because what if you left? Found out what I was and told the other humans? But look at you... Were you even conscious when you begged me to save you? Or was that your body acting on its own?" Cain got onto his knees, his skin searing (Reader's) flesh. His fingers digging into their shoulders felt like flames dancing across their body. Each touch from Cain burned. It was neither comforting nor pleasant.

"Ah, but now you're nearly frozen, yet again. Do you want me to warm you up?" Everytime Cain shifted his weight above (Reader), they were exposed to the blistering wind. As the parts of them hidden under Cain's body warmed up in his unnatural heat, the more excruciating the exposure to the outside was.

Tears melted (Reader's) fragile eyes. "Please, warm me up, Cain." Their primitive need for survival made (Reader) beg like a pathetic coward.

The loving smile on Cain's face was brief, before his face began shifting, becoming the humanoid monster he was moments earlier. Dwarfing the terrified human, he ran his rough tongue across their cold body, purposely allowing their body to freeze without his touch before warming (Reader) back up. He relished in the needy whimpers escaping (Reader's) lips as they suffered in the deadly temperature. (Reader) grasped at Cain's fur, trying to pull him in to steal his heat.

Clawed paws grabbed (Reader's) thighs, pressing their knees to their head uncomfortably. (Reader's) eyes widened in horror as Cain revealed his cock, resting it across their exposed bottom. They didn't have time to protest before their body was folded into a mating press, no preparation for their tightened hole, no warning to help them relax. Cain pressed his tip to the opening, and snapped his hips into (Reader's), thrusting in his entire member without lubricant.

Cain's dick was already hot, but with the added pain of the sudden insertion it was like being fucked by an iron poker. The scream (Reader) couldn't find earlier now ripped through their throat, the sound of their agony drowned out by the howling wind.

(Reader) pushed Cain away in surprise, but immediately regretted the action when he playfully leaned back, allowing (Reader's) chest to be assaulted by the snow and hail pelting them from all sides. They pulled him back, cringing at how Cain chuckled in their ear.

He fucked them in the snow, pressing deep into their gut painfully, and humiliating (Reader) further by licking away their tears as they sobbed under his body, incapable of pushing him away. Cain could stop at any moment, but the threat of frost bite kept (Reader) latching onto him, begging him not to let go. Their desperate cries only encouraged Cain to continue teasing them, watching with glee as their skin chapped and bled without his touch.

"It hurts..." (Reader) moaned as they pulled him in deeper.

"If you keep whining like that you'll only make me cum faster." Cain threatened, biting (Reader's) neck to hold in a gasp when they tightened around him. Their knees smacked into their temples as his pace sped up, his twitching cock threatening to release deep inside (Reader).

"No! Don't cum inside me!" (Reader) blubbered into the monster's fur.

(Reader) felt a wave of heat blast inside them as Cain pumped his thick load into their raw hole. As they wept loudly Cain continued happily smacking his wet pelvis into his beloved's, just the action of fucking his seed into them turning him on again.

Cain was already planning their futures together, as (Reader) imagined their death. This wouldn't be so bad, fucking (Reader) like this; purposefully keeping them needy so they clung to him like they wanted it.

Maybe one day, (Reader) would love him in the same way as Cain loved them, and would beg Cain to make love to them, but for now, he was content fucking them like a desperate, wild animal.

Blood from the wind burns and from the tearing from rough sex stained the white white under their bodies. Cain turned back into a human so he could kiss (Reader) passionately, taste their mouth salty from their tears.

"Let's go home, (Reader)."

[moneyndior]

୧ ׅ𖥔you’ll never find nobody better than me.⋄ 𓍯

…IN WHICH; i have loser!luke x reader thoughts

tags/warnings: fem!reader, tooth rotting fluff, reader says something slightly suggestive twice at the end, small creepy comments mention, teasing!reader, whipped!luke, hints at aphrodite!reader, hints at reader being popular, separate blurbs/headcanons, LONG‼️

ೃauthor notes⁀➷: do not expect this to be coherent lmfao i just woke up from a 4 hour nap and had ideas. also shout out to artemis for telling me to write this ily oomf

—

—loser!Luke absolutely looks over to you before answering a question for your reassurance.

“can you help me, luke?” a younger hepaestus kid asked. you and luke finally had alone time—away from your friends and away from his siblings. a huff left your lips as you crossed your arms, a sassy expression sure, but that comes naturally to you.

luke opened his mouth, ready to agree. it was his calling, to keep up the golden child reputation he had at camp. but for some reason, he hesitated. luke’s eyes shifted toward yours, back to the kid, then back to you. like he was asking you if he could go—like all his free will was thrown out the window.

as much as you’d like to preach that you didn’t like it—that you’d much rather luke be his own person—you couldn’t. a snicker left your throat as you nodded. luke’s eyes shinned with appreciation, a small smile on his face as he turned his attention to the kid.

“yeah, sure. c’mon.” luke mumbled before kissing you on the cheek, following the kid as the 12 year old frantically explained the situation.

—loser!Luke who gets weak in the knees whenever you noticed him. even if you two just made eye contact.

“it’s getting to be painful to watch you looking at her, dude.” chris said from beside luke. they both watched as your sisters braided your hair. one put a flower in your hair, making luke’s heart race a little faster. the flower on your ear made you look even prettier. it’s no surprise every other guy at camp is fawning over you.

“will you shut up?” luke asked, his face scrunched up as he diverted his attention away from you for only a split second to look over to his friend. “it’s not that bad.”

all luke got in response was silence. he shifted his weight left to right, rolling his shoulders with his arms crossed. he waited very impatiently for chris to answer.

“did you come to your senses yet? is the realization hitting now?” his friend asked, eyebrows raised. he spoke with a chuckle and a mischievous look in his eyes. luke clenched his jaw as he blinked, looking away from him.

“look, she isn’t busy. she probably thinks you’re a creepy stalker.” chris added, rubbing salt onto the wound. maybe now realization would hit luke. and it did. hard.

he could be ruining his chances with you because he’s too much of a loser to muster up the courage to even say hi! goddamnit—what kind of demi-god is he?

chris nudged the curly haired boy before quickly pointing in your direction. luke followed his finger before your eyes locked with his.

he felt his knees slightly buckle, being the first out of the two of you to break eye contact. ‘shit,’ was the only think echoing in his mind. ‘way to go, luke. go on you for looking like the biggest loser in front of y/n. awesome.’ he thought, rubbing the back of his neck as he quickly fled the scene.

“he’s cute.” “who? luke? y’know—he’s like, totally in love with you, y/n.” “i know.”

—loser!Luke who takes the title of ‘y/n’s boyfriend.’ like seriously….he takes real pride in it.

“you’re y/n’s boyfriend, right?” damn fuckin’ right he is. forget luke castellan—that’s boring. y/n’s boyfriend has a much better ring to it. he’s yours before he’s human.

he felt a weird sense of pride wash over him whenever another camper asked him that. it doesn’t matter if he’s asked it once, twice, or even a thousand times. luke’ll always get a grin on his face as he nods.

getting a question like that just meant he gets to brag about how he’s dating the prettiest girl at camp—the prettiest girl to ever walk this planet.

“yeah. y’know it’s actually our anniversary soon and i was wondering-“ and there he goes, on another tangent about his plans to surprise you. because he only wants the best for you. blah, blah, blah. luke’s just so whipped it makes everyone sick.

percy literally fake gags anytime luke finishes a rant about how pretty you looked last night at the campfire and how gorgeous your eyes were then.

—loser!Luke who took one week and three days to finally talk to you.

he felt his sibling shove him in your direction when his back was turned, causing him to stumble toward you. luke’s head snapped back toward them, watching them laugh with a few other hermes kids.

“you alright?” your voice sounded sweet like honey to him. it wasn’t rough, it was possibly the smoothest, nicest voice he’d ever heard. and luke has spoken to a lot of people.

he tripped over his feet as he tried to straighten his back, rolling his shoulders before crossing his arms. luke cleared his throat, nodding. “yeah. ‘m alright.”

a giggle left your throat at his reaction. out of all the guys that you’ve flirted with—luke stuck out for some reason. maybe it was because he was genuinely flustered at the sight of you. that’s different than the usual corny pickup lines or the way-too-intimate complimenting.

“luke, right? it’s nice to finally put a face on a name.” you said, a chuckle in your voice as you smiled. your smile was so much brighter up close. luke was about to answer, until his words finally processed in his head.

you knew his name. you know who he was before this. did you hear good things about him? bad things? did you hear that he was the best swordsman here? did that impress you?

“uh, yeah. it’s nice to meet you too.” he managed to get out, his voice coming out a little quieter than he’d like.

“i love your hair, by the way.” you complimented him like it was nothing—like he wasn’t about to make it his whole personality. did you even know the hold you have on him?

“oh, thank you.” “you’re welcome.”

luke was ready to say something about your eyes, until your sibling cut him off.

“i have got to steal y/n. i am so sorry, luke!” “oh. that’s alright.”

it wasn’t alright, though. he wanted to keep talking to you—having your full attention on him was better than anything. luke just sighed before speaking to you once more, hoping to leave an impression.

“i’ll see you later, hopefully.”

“yeah, definitely.”

definitely. luke cannot wait for the time definitely comes around.

—loser!Luke who does anything and everything you ask of him.

“can you help me take off my shoes? my feet hurt!”

you whined, throwing yourself onto a log. luke furrowed his brows, more confused above all else. he snickered quietly as he seen you pout, sitting with a leg extended out toward him.

“can’t you do that yourself?” “can’t you do it f’me?”

luke shrugged, sarcastically rolling his eyes at your words. he kneeled down in front of you, beginning to untie the converse you had on.

“you look pretty like this, luke.”

he paused for a moment, his hands still gripping your shoe lace. luke’s lips tightened, his eyebrows twitching. he really didn’t know what to feel other than embarrassment.

“thank you.” he muttered before frantically trying to finish untying the shoe. luke quickly slipped it off, hearing you giggle at his expense.

“why’re you actin’ so shy? can i not compliment my boyfriend?” you teased further as he, once again, frantically tried to untie the other.

“stop it. ‘m tryna help you and this is how you reward me?” “i’ll reward you in a different way if you hurry.”

and goddamnit—hurry he did. even when you asked for him to carry you, he still did. luke is just some guy who’s madly in love with his girlfriend. even when he’s holding her shoes and carrying her bridal style to his cabin.

[nonstoplover]

she broke my heart ~ daniel ricciardo (dr3)

my masterlist | my f1 masterlist

pairing: daniel ricciardo x fem!reader

song inspiration: she broke my heart ~ noah schnacky

summary: the story of how daniel met that someone just because a girl broke his heart

words: 2.6K

warnings: the title is deceiving a bit, i know, but it is pure fluff really

a/n: visa rb kicked danny out and didn't give him the respect and the goodbye he deserved, so i had to write something to help with the pain and kinda make myself forget about what is going on with him at the moment. and what is a better cure than a short fic with some heartwarming fluff?

please, don't be a ghost reader, leave a comment or rb!

His friends invited him to go to a bar with them, but drowning in his misery, he felt like staying in. Well, that's what he thought at 6pm. A few hours later, feeling more bitter than he's done in a very long time, he realises he could do with the distraction.

He doesn't want to admit it to his friends, though, because first of all, it was him who was unpersuadable about going out, and secondly, they would just joke around, trying to find him a girl to make up for the void her girlfriend – well, ex-girlfriend now – left behind. And he definitely doesn't want that. It's been a week already, but the pain hasn't subsided. And to be honest, he doesn't want the pain to go, not just yet. It's a great reminder of what he's lost, of what he's done wrong. He takes the free time her absence means to reflect on what could've gone differently, if he'd just paid a bit more attention, if he was there more.

Or maybe there's nothing he could've done otherwise. Maybe it wasn't his fault in the end, but hers.

Deep down, he knows it was most probably both of them, but he would've tried. He wanted to fight, in order to keep what they still had, fight for them. She didn't, it seems like.

It was a phone call, a simple, short, goddamn phone call. He was just about to board the flight home from a long race weekend when it happened. Didn't even know what to say. He was exhausted, all he wanted was some sleep and then landing in his girlfriend's arms when he woke up, many hours later. He couldn't find the words, so when she finished describing what wasn't working in their relationship, he just hummed.

And right when he opened his lips finally to say something actually coherent, she just swiftly said, "there's no need to make it harder than it needs to be. I'll be out of here before you get ho- before you get back", like it's no big deal. Like it didn't feel like a twist of the knife on his chest how she corrected herself before she could've said home. The place they shared for two and a half years. Now it's not her home anymore, so it seems.

She really did move out by the time he arrived at his front door. All her belongings were gone like they have never been there in the first place. Like she never existed. Even though she was the centre of the universe for him, or so he thought. Now he's starting to see everything in a new light.

His whole life changed in twenty seconds. That's how long the phone call lasted.

And now, a week later, he can still hear her words in his ear, on repeat, echoing around, making him want to shout, punch the wall, kick the trash can, anything, just to make it disappear.

So he gets dressed, and goes to a bar – one that he knows his friends most definitely aren't going to be at –, and sits down at the counter, ordering something strong, something that will burn its way down to his stomach, melting away the painful knots in his throat and chest along the way.

After one drink, it only feels worse. He's looking at the happy couples dancing away on this lovely Friday night, holding each other, looking like they aren't aware of anyone else in the bar, like they're the only two people left on the planet. It used to be like that for him and her as well. But not anymore.

After two drinks, the echo of her words seems to quieten a bit. Some words missing from the sentences she said, and the blissful memories of their time together fading from the front of his mind that have been playing on repeat until then.

After three drinks, the welcomed distraction finally comes. He's not thinking about her any longer, he's not watching the couples dancing sorrowfully, he's just nodding his head to the rhythm of the music playing, his feet also tapping the beat on the foot-rest of the bar stool he's perching on.

After four drinks, he finally gets up, the fifth in his hands, though it's not the same thing anymore, he's changed his order to something more fun, something more unique.

What he doesn't notice though, too focused on the way the fancy little drink swirls in the glass, reflecting the lights of the dance floor, creating a tiny rainbow in their wake, is the person trying to move behind him

Daniel swiftly turns around, eager to get on the floor as a song he loves starts playing, and with that same movement, crashes into that person, all his drink spilling out from the glass, right onto the girl.

"Oh my god, I'm so terribly sorry!" he slurs, a blush creeping on his already pink coloured cheeks, just as she lets out a gasp.

The girl looks down, trying to see the damage, as if she's in slow motion, still recovering from the surprise of their crash. Her mind is just as slow to catch up to what happened, her lips widening into the shape of an O, when it finally does.

"Shoot," she mumbles – at least, that's what Daniel can read from her lips, as the music is way too loud for him to hear her.

"I truly am sorry," he repeats, and as if she only notices him in that very moment, she looks up at him.

"It's okay," she says, and suddenly a bright, warm smile spreads on her face, one that Daniel didn't expect. Not at all. He's figured there will be a long string of curses, an annoyed glance his way, eyebrows furrowed, a huff of anger maybe, then her storming off, maybe to the bathroom, to save what can be saved of her outfit. Instead, he got that smile, one that spreads warmth in his chest, one that makes his heart skip a beat, and one that he can't help but mirror.

With lips curving into his signature smile, he places the now mostly empty glass back on the counter. "Can I do anything to repay you for the mess I've caused?" he asks, turning his eyes back towards her.

"No, thanks, it's all fine. I was just about to go soon, anyway."

"I feel awful, though," he presses on, not really understanding why all of a sudden he feels scared about that plan – the one where she leaves soon. Maybe it's because if she leaves, she'll take that bright smile away from him, along with the warmth in his chest, and he will fall back into his depressed, desperate state of mind, drowning in sorrow. "Let me at least buy a drink, maybe a coffee, some other time, if you don't wanna stay here any longer."

She ponders about his offer for a second or two, weighing the options. Her friend has just called an Uber for the two of them, but she doesn't have to go with her, does she? She can stay a bit longer, it's not her that has to attend a wedding tomorrow, but her friend, so she can just go ahead, and she can stay with this handsome stranger. Maybe her top is drenched in something alcoholic, something that makes her skin sticky, she can already feel it, but it's not every day she meets a cute man, offering to buy her a drink. This might be her little meet cute, the one she's been dreaming about for as long as she's seen The Holiday, oh so many years ago.

"Give me a sec," she says in the end, turning on her heels, and making her way through the crowd towards her friend waiting at the entrance.

Daniel looks after her dumbfounded, not sure what's happening, and as the crowd closes behind her, he wonders if she'll ever come back.

She does, a couple minutes later – just enough time to make Daniel feel foolish for still standing around waiting in the exact same position she's left him in, but not enough time to make him actually do something about this awkward feeling.

His eyes light up at the sight of her, curiosity peaking in his whole body in the shape of electricity, or so it feels, about what she's going to say to his offer. Joyous, excited disbelief is still written on her face from what she's about to do, and in the next moment, she leans in closer to his ear. "I don't have to go, not really, so what was that you said about a drink?"

A mischievous sparkle in her eyes, and relief filling up his brain like fog. His much awaited, proper distraction, finally.

One drink turns into two, with the conversation just flowing. They soon move to a booth, to have a bit more privacy and comfort, and though they're sitting opposite each other, their feet are touching under the table, and they're both leaning in to be closer to each other. Neither can deny this magnetic attraction they feel, pulling them like one of them is a planet while the other is a meteor that can't fight the gravitational pull, both of them just awaiting that unavoidable crash.

Her fingers play with the empty glass, spinning it around, or circling the rim. He can't help but think about how much he wishes that he could touch those fingers. That he could be the one to stop their nervous – or excited? – fiddling. That he can wrap his much larger hand around hers, and see how it feels to have skin on skin contact with her. But it's only a wish.

He tells her about all the funny stories he can remember at the top of his head from the past couple years of his life, and revels in the sound of her laughter, ringing loud and clear even above all the noise and thumping beat. Tears form in her eyes from all the laughing, and she's clutching her sides, asking him to stop because she just can't breathe.

Daniel ends the story, and watches her with a smile on his face as she catches her breath, trying to calm the butterflies in his stomach. He doesn't recognise himself. Who is this person, and where's the heartbroken, pathetic remains of a human being that he's been this past week? He can't find that version of him anymore. A few hours spent in her company, and it's like she changed the person he was.

"Wanna dance?" she asks when she's regained her composure, nodding towards the dance floor.

Daniel raises an eyebrow, thinking of the question as more of a challenge, then nods eagerly, already moving to get up from his seat. She follows suit, and they join the people still dancing, sing-shouting the lyrics of a song he didn't even think he knows the words to.

He lets go of all inhibitions, and just enjoys being in this feeling. Who knows what tomorrow brings? Maybe he'll go back to his sorrow, pitifully sitting in his house, looking at the empty walls – well, empty except the nails that used to hold their shared pictures with his ex-girlfriend. That's really all that's left of her.

He's brought back to reality with her fingers gently touching his arm as she doubles over in laughter, and when he looks at her with a questioning look in his eyes, she just pants out "your dancing", pointing at him. He glances down, as if he could see exactly what she means, and though he's not sure what she found so funny, he just accepts gracefully that he's made her laugh, again, even if he did so unintentionally.

Hoping to be imperceptible in his motives, he moves closer to the girl with the help of his dance moves, wondering what might happen if he brushed his fingers against hers. In an act of who cares bravery, he just goes for it. She stayed with him for a reason, it's not like she doesn't want him to be there. And holding hands isn't that big of a leap to take, he's not trying to kiss her or something.

So his fingers move, and weave their way around hers until he's finally found a proper hold on them. She gives him a reassuring squeeze only a moment later, and her smile gets even wider, if that's possible. Daniel feels happiness fill his chest, a kind that he hasn't felt in a long time, not in his career, not in his personal life. Maybe there's a way to move past his ex and the past few years. Maybe all he needs is her.

And looking into those gorgeous, sparkling eyes, he feels like he's right. For once in his life, he's finally going to make the right decision.

Close to their third anniversary Daniel finds a little souvenir that he once got for his previous girlfriend, and the memories come flooding back. This time though, he's not filled with misery, thinking of all those months, and with a small grin on his face, he realises that his current relationship has already lasted more than the one he had with that girl did. For some inexplicable reason, he finds this reassuring. Exciting. Happy.

He slides down to the rug beneath his feet, pressing his back against the side of the sofa – the one he got quite fond of in the past few months, something that he won't ever admit to her, as she had to spend weeks to convince him to let her buy it –, and though his eyes are open, he doesn't really see what's in front of him.

His fingers play with the little figurine, and lets his mind travel back in time to that very day when he met the love of his life. All thanks to another girl he once loved. There's quite a bit of irony in that, he has to admit.

If he wasn't deep in sadness that day, being left by a girl, he wouldn't have gone to that bar. If he was still in a relationship, he would've been at home, enjoying time with his girlfriend of the time. Hell, he almost stayed at home anyway, in his sorrow, all alone. It feels like he won the lottery by that small decision that he eventually got up and went out on that fateful Friday night. He would've missed out on the almost exactly 1100 days of happiness he got just by knowing the girl who he spilled his drink on.

If there was still a her back then, and he wasn't single, there definitely wouldn't have been a them now. It's crazy to think, and makes him ponder if in an other universe, it all played out differently. He feels pity for the version of him in those other lives. This is definitely the best variety of how his life could have gone.

Then he hears keys jingling at the front door, signalling that this wonder of a woman he gets to call his own is just about to walk through and flash a smile worth a million diamonds at him.

"Well, thank God she broke my heart," he mumbles to no one in particular, as he pushes himself up from the floor, eager to see her as soon as possible.

a/n: i'm back from the dead again! gosh, can't believe how insane and busy this year has been for me, i'm so determined to write more now though, hopefully i can actually do it. until then, here we go with another short fic for all your reading pleasure! xx

my masterlist | my f1 masterlist

taglist: @formulapierre

[goddessapostle]

Storm

Fandom: Genshin Impact Characters: Wanderer/Scaramouche, GN!Reader Summary: You're going to die thinking about a man whose name you don't even know. Warnings: Violence

1k // AO3 // Masterlist

A/N: Another request from @acidsbeats! Thank you for helping @ficsforgaza once again, and thank you for your patience this time as well! ^^

Damn, you wish you could fly. If your friend were here, he'd carry you down the cliff. Anemo Visions are so useful. 

But he’s not here. Bandits are. They separated you from the caravan you were guarding, then drove you up a cliff overlooking Mawtiyima Forest. You're trapped between a waterfall and a long drop. 

Your friend could hold them back. Then again, your friend could escape without certain death. Your friend is awesome. 

Except for the fact that he wont tell you his name. It’s been almost a year since you met the wandering Inazuman, but he just won’t reveal it.

“Call me whatever,” he said, more annoyed every time you asked. 

Well, Whatever won’t have to worry about it anymore. 

You dodge the fist headed for your face. Another lands in your stomach. You cough, but still manage to elbow the guy responsible. He stumbles away, clutching his nose. You have maybe a second to catch your breath. 

One man lounges in the back of the crowd. He nods towards you, and two more Treasure Hoarders walk forward. He’s the ringleader, clearly, but you have no clue why he’s targeting you specifically. He had a chance to steal your client’s wares but chose to chase you instead. 

You beat down his two grunts as the memory of him floats up from your mind. 

It was the night you and your friend met. Lambad kicked you both out of his tavern because he was tired of your bickering over the best seat in the place. This asshole tried to mug you both, but you kicked his ass right into jail. Your friend was impressed. He’d be impressed now, too, since you’ve just disabled seven of the people trying to beat you to a pulp. 

Fuck. Now is not the time to think about him. 

The mugger waves another person forward. 

“Fight me, coward!” you call. “I’ll go easy on you this time.” You smile, despite the pain of your split lip. 

The mugger stands. You raise your arms in front of your body, fists clenched, stance wide. 

You have no idea what happened next. You woke on the ground. The ache in your knuckles suggests you were fighting. The ache in your head suggests you lost. The bindings around your wrists confirm it. 

A blurry face floats in front of yours — the asshole mugger. 

“Not dead yet, I hope?” He sits you on your knees and brushes dirt from your shirt. His hand travels under it to yank your necklace from you.  

“Don’t–touch–” you try as he searches for more treasure. You can barely form a coherent thought.  

His fingers hover by your head, removing most of your earrings. He leaves you with just one pair — dangling silk ribbons that attach in three different places. 

If anything, you’re glad you still have those. They were a gift from your friend. They may be the only reason your body is identified. 

“Satisfied?” you ask as he walks back to the group. 

He hums, parsing through your jewelry with a finger. Scowling, he sets it on a nearby barrel and picks up a roll of leather. 

Five knife hilts reflect the sun as he unrolls it. 

The first knife sinks into your shoulder. You grunt, hoping he doesn’t hear it over the waterfall to your left. 

“You humiliated me.” The second lands in your thigh. 

“You have to pay for it, y’know?” The third, your abdomen. It burns with every breath you take. 

Wind rushes by your head. You think the fourth knife missed until you feel blood drip down your ear. 

“And your shit ain’t worth nearly enough.” 

There’s only one knife left. You have no doubt as to where it’s meant to go. 

You have to do something — maybe the waterfall? 

Water falls into a pool, usually, but you have no idea how deep it is or how long the drop. The fall could kill you. 

Could. You can risk could. 

The mugger raises his hand. 

You tense.  

A gaze lands on your back. One that’s familiar. One that’s full of rage. 

Your muscles go slack as air flows all around you. It gathers at some point behind you. 

“You dare touch what’s mine?” 

Your body sways, teetering in the wind. An arm steadies you, wrapping gently around your shoulders. 

Your friend slashes his other hand. 

The bandits fly. Some into the water. Others into trees. Those that can still move run away. 

The grip on your shoulder tightens before dropping to your wrists. He doesn’t untie the rope; you hear a snap! and then your hands are loose. 

You slump against your friend’s chest, wrapping your uninjured arm around him. Tremors make their way through your body. 

You were going to die. 

Gods, you were going to die. 

Your friend holds you close. 

“How?” you croak, voice lost with your adrenaline. 

“I was helping the Matra with an investigation. And...” He holds up his hand. In his palm is a knife that matches the ones still sticking out of you. The only difference is a scrap of fabric caught in the tang — the silk from your earrings. 

“You saved my life. Thank you.” 

The fabric flutters in a breeze. He stares at it, then at you. 

“Scaramouche,” he says. There’s a weight to the word, one you cannot decide is reverence or despair. “My name is Scaramouche.” 

You blink, slow to understanding. “Your… name?” 

“Call for me if you’re ever in danger again. I’ll find you. I can’t-I can’t lose you.” He hugs you tight, pressing you firmly against his chest for the briefest of moments. 

When it passes, he scoops you up — one hand on your back, the other under you knees. 

“What–” 

“You need a doctor. I’m going to tell Cyno where those assholes went then take you to one.” 

“Wait-” 

You scream when he jumps over the waterfall. 

Scaramouche just smirks.