#idk. this has nothing to do with you and i know you were trying to cheer me up im sorry

[thelov3lybookworm]

Want You

Summary: It is unfathomable that he might want her, but it seems like there's nothing more he wants than her

•○●⛦●○•

Word Count: 5010 (woahhh 😦😦😦)

Warnings: tiniest bit of angst? idk i dont think theres any ngst but there is a bit of fluff hehe, and a bit too much childhood memories but eh we love it, right?

A/n: teehee i love this ���🥹 based on this request 😋

ANYWAYS, ENJOYYYY!!!🥳🥳🥳

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

For as long as Y/n could remember, she had been fascinated with the shadowsinger.

Grabbing at his small shadows with her chubby hands, watching him sit in a corner as Rhys and Cassian bickered over which seat they wanted at the table, peering curiously as he made snowballs after snowballs to hit her older brother.

She had been fascinated, and it was very clear from day one.

Or atleast, she thought it was.

Even thinking about her actions made her cringe at how puppy-like she had been in following the spymaster around. Like the time she had forced him to tell her what the shadows spoke of late one night.

Y/n was a fairly small kid. Even compared to other five year olds, she was inches shorter than other kids. Being almost five years younger than her older brother, she barely reached his shoulders. He was also too tall for his age, being half high fae came with such advantages.

Y/n had knocked on Azriel’s bedroom door after he had retired early, claiming he had a headache from Rhys and Cassian’s foolish antics, but Y/n figured he was lying, since he did not ask mama for medicine. After all, he should have asked for at least a massage if he was in pain, no?

He had opened the door, scowling, but when he found no one outside, he glanced down in surprise at the little girl who grinned at him.

"Y/n?"

She had pushed her way in through the small space between his legs and the doorframe, dragging her big stuffed bear- Mister Bear- in behind her.

"What are you doing?" She questioned, raising onto her tippy toes and peering at the books discarded on his table.

Azriel followed her halfway before turning and getting onto his bed. "I was trying to sleep."

Y/n’s brows furrowed. "Why?"

"Because I have a headache."

"But you didn’t ask mama for medicine."

His brows furrowed. "I don’t need medicine."

"Why not?"

He sighed. "Because I am a big boy, and I am strong."

Y/n pouted. "But you should ask mama for medicine, it is good for you."

He shook his head. "I don’t want that."

Y/n huffed at his silliness, but then tugged her stuffed bear upright and clutched it to her chest as she moved closer to the bed. It was hard trying to get on without help, so she pushed mister Bear onto the mattress, then splayed her hands wide onto the surface and lifted one leg. Bent at the knees, she put it as high as it would go before trying to pull herself up onto the bed.

"What are you doing?"

Y/n didn’t respond, simply wiggling her way on the bed, breathing heavily. But she had a mission, and she was focused on that. She didn’t have time for breathlessness. She grabbed mister Bear and dragged him over to Azriel, placing him next to the confused boy.

"Whenever I’m sick, mama says to cuddle. And because I will be sleeping with mama, you can have mister Bear instead."

Azriel’s brows furrowed. "I’m not sick."

Y/n rolled her eyes and flopped down on the bed, mister Bear between the two, as if he were their baby. "Whatever." She looked up at the ceiling, then glanced back at Azriel, an excited smile on her face. "Your shadows can talk right?"

Confusion still marred his face, a hint of curiosity in his eyes as he nodded.

"Then they can tell you stories too, right?" He remained silent, seemingly contemplating. But Y/n continued, almost complaining, ignoring his lack of speech. "I keep asking mama to tell me stories, but she says she doesn’t know more. She says she has told me all the stories she knew, and now she doesn’t have any more."

"Why are you telling me this?"

Y/n giggled. "So your shadows can tell me stories, silly."

Azriel sighed. "They can’t tell stories to you."

She pouted. "Why not? Do they not like me?"

"No, they like you. But they can’t speak, like you and I."

"Then how do you understand them if they don’t speak?"

He paused. "They can talk to me, but they don’t speak loudly. Think of it as Rhys talking to you without speaking, with his mind."

Y/n huffed dramatically. "At least do they tell you stories before sleeping?"

He shook his head quietly, and Y/n pushed to her feet, wobbling on the soft mattress that had taken Azriel over months to get accustomed to. Y/n didn’t understand why Azriel kept sleeping on the floor despite having such a good bed. After all, why would he want to sleep on the cold floor when he had a bed?

"I am going to mama then. Don’t bother mister bear too much, okay?" He nodded, and watched Y/n get off the mattress with great difficulty before skipping over to the door and leaving. "Night, Azzie!"

Or the time she had chosen to play with Azriel, making Rhysand sulk for over a week.

"She is my sister!"

Azriel sat quietly on the ground and watched amidst Y/n’s dolls and kitchen toys, a pink kettle and small cups littering the space around his legs.

"Rhys, that is unfair. You didn’t want to play with Y/n before, so you can’t get mad now." Their mother tried to step in, her voice gentle. Despite that, Y/n glared defiantly at her older brother, chin lifted in a way she had so often seen her father stare down at his people.

"But she is my sister! I want to play now, come Y/n."

She stuck a tongue out. "I don’t want to play with you. You are mean."

"No I’m not!"

"You pull my hair."

"I don’t!" He very nearly whined, looking up at their mother with pleading eyes. She simply shrugged, because he did, in fact, pull Y/n’s hair sometimes.

When he got no help from his mother, he abruptly stepped forward and grabbed Y/n’s small hand, tugging her away from Azriel. "You can’t play with him, you are my baby sister."

Instantly, tears began pooling in Y/n’s eyes, and she jerked back, trying not to skid across the ground. "I don’t like you Rhysie! Go away!"

Rhys persisted, fury and jealousy that his sister chose his friend over him flashing over his face.

Mama had to step in, then.

"Rhys, let go right this moment!" Her stern voice echoed in the room, and even Azriel pushed to his feet, watching the scene unfold warily.

Rhys’s eyes clouded with angry tears as he glared up at mama, then Y/n, and dropped her hand. Almost pushed it away from him, and then turned and stomped out. Y/n watched him go, scowling at his back until he was out of sight, and then she wiped her tears and turned back to Azriel, smiling. Mama watched Rhys too, and then she turned to Azriel and offered him a gentle tilt of her lips, patted his head, reassured him that Rhys would come around, and then left them to play.

Later, Y/n would feel bad about refusing to play with her brother when at dinner he chose to sit on the chair farthest from Y/n. When he glared and hissed at Azriel to sit in Rhys’s place next to Y/n. He used to throw tantrums if anyone else sat next to her, because he had claimed that particular chair as his, but now he refused to even look at her as he angrily scarfed down his rice.

Y/n had turned to look at her mama in concern, who only told her to give him time. She had tried to, but after an hour, she had gotten bored and wandered into Rhys’s room, ready to play before bed.

Which was a wrong decision, as Rhys mocked and taunted her, then told her to go play with Azriel instead.

Even the next day, when Y/n got dressed in her thickest jacket to go play in the snow with her brother as their weekly tradition, she found him playing with other kids instead. He ignored her most of the time, even when she accepted that he wasn’t going to play with her and settled down on the porch, hands under her chin, watching sadly as he laughed and giggled with other kids.

Eventually, as the week had come to an end, he had gone back to his own seat. Y/n had to apologise, had even begged mama to let her bake Rhys’s favourite cookies with her as a peace offering, for Rhys to give her a smile.

Mama had to sit all the boys down from then on and make them agree to play together with Y/n, and that Rhys being her brother did not mean she could not play with others. It had taken a lot to get Rhys to agree, and when he nodded, he had still grumbled and glared.

She had been lost in thought the entire day, mainly after she had walked into the kitchen and found Azriel staring at her like he had been caught stealing cookies. He had left quickly after that, mumbling something about meetings and Rhys. Memories aside, as Y/n lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling almost three centuries later now, she couldn’t figure out why she felt so drawn to Azriel.

Sure, she had been a kid, and most kids liked other kids. But even as she grew up, that sense of friendship and companionship she felt with Azriel grew, morphing into something deeper, something more.

Sure, it could be infatuation, but this felt like it was so much more than that, something purer, something more emotional.

It was as if every time she saw him, her bones shifted, her ribs expanded, wishing to be closer to him. It was like his very soul kept tugging at her.

She had an inkling of what this was, but it was just that. An inkling.

Because she had not felt that crack, that snap, that mama had used to describe her own mating bond. She had said it felt like a sudden appearance of a new limb she didn’t know existed, the sudden breath of air after spending years asphyxiated.

No, Y/n had not yet felt any feeling like that, and it left her confused and saddened everyday. If anything, all she felt when seeing Azriel resembled the feeling of soft, warm sunlight on her skin, the slow warming of her freezing limbs after sitting in front of a bonfire.

What she felt was not quick, a sudden realisation. It was a soft, gentle awakening over the years.

And she could not wait to feel everything the stories had described.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

The past few weeks had been… not fun, to put it in a nice way.

Y/n could not find Azriel anywhere. Everywhere she went, all she encountered was his fading, lingering scent. Not him though. It was as if he was actively trying to avoid her.

In the mornings, she’d go to the training ring, and he’d be absent. The library, his study, the whole house of wind.

He was gone.

Even Rhysand didn’t know where he was. And if he wasn’t on any mission, where was he?

Mor didn’t know, neither did Amren. Cassian was Y/n’s last option.

She found him in the kitchen, chopping a small loaf of bread into thick slices. He only glanced up when Y/n scuffed her boot against the ground.

"Hey, Y/n, what’s up?"

She sighed, walking closer and leaning against the kitchen counter. "Do you know where Az is?"

Instantly, his shoulders bunched up. The movement was almost imperceptible, but Y/n clocked it.

"No, I haven’t. I’ve been looking for him myself." He mumbled, and Y/n knew he was being sincere. But the slight hesitation in his eyes, the small pause before he spoke, told Y/n that he knew something, if not his location.

"Is there a reason you think he’s gone off somewhere?"

He didn’t meet her eyes. "Uh- no."

"Cassian."

"Y/n."

"It’s a bad thing to lie."

"I’m not-"

"Mama used to say you were the nicest of us all."

He paused, glancing up at her skeptically. "Lying is bad."

Her lips quirked up. "Oh, so you know."

He rolled his eyes. "Sod off."

A silence that surrounded the two sobered Y/n up.

"Cass, I need to know what happened." A beat. "Please."

He looked away. "He made me swear not to tell."

"Is he mad at me? Is that why he’s left without telling anyone?"

He shook his head. "The complete opposite, if I’m being honest. He’s not mad at you."

"Then what is it, Cass?"

He sighed. "Y/n… I know I shouldn’t tell you, but…"

"But?"

"But I know Az would likely never say, and just wallow in his own head. I’m just telling you for his and your good, right?" Y/n could see the war waging in her friend’s head, and she felt bad for forcing him, but Y/n couldn’t stand going in circles.

"Yes, Cassian, now will you tell me?" It took a lot of effort to hide her frustration, but she somehow did it, watching him expectantly.

"He said you’re mates-"

Her ears began ringing the longer she stood there, eyes seeing but not watching as Cassian stopped speaking.

Her mind went back to a few days ago, the day since Azriel began avoiding her.

He felt it then. That morning.

Oh.

No wonder he left.

"So he found out?" Y/n breathed, more to herself than him, eyes unfocused.

"You- you knew?!"

"I had an inkling." She admitted.

Cassian nodded quietly, then pointed the knife in his hand at Y/n. "You better not throw me to the wolves if you decide to confront him."

Y/n offered him a weak smile in response. "No promises." She paused, searching for a good enough excuse to leave. "Thank you, Cassian. I would have lost my mind had you not told me."

He shrugged, turning away to grab an apple. "I’m nice like that."

He was, because he acted like he didn’t notice the way Y/n kept shifting on her feet, glancing at the door, wishing she could leave. He simply turned away, as if he was dismissing her and not her wanting to get out of there.

She gladly took the opening and hurried out, making her way up the stairs and back into her bedroom. Closing the door with a quiet thud, she walked over to the bed and settled on the edge, clutching the soft fabric of the covers under her palms.

In the quiet safety of her bedroom, she let herself wallow a bit.

Did he not want the bond?

I mean, who’d fault him.

He probably wanted someone nice, someone soft. And Y/n was none of that. She was all hard edges, kicking taunts and screaming boldness.

She was loud. She was a smartass and she was shameless when it came to being selfish. While Azriel… he liked to help people, his past making him want to do more good in order to make himself feel worthy.

She knew what people saw when they looked at her, and it was not pretty. At least, to her it was not.

She didn’t want to be the way she was. She wished she was sweet, wished she offered soft smiles instead of snarls and smirks. Knew that Azriel, if given the choice, would pick anyone else over her.

The bond clicking for him and eliciting such a response was to be expected. After all, why would he want her? Not to mention, if he did want to see where this path led him, her brother would go feral.

She sighed, leaning back on her hands and staring up at the ceiling.

But did all of that give him a right to try and keep her in the dark?

Sure, it had barely been a month, and maybe he was going to tell her about the bond, maybe he just needed time to settle his thoughts and come to terms with having her as his mate, having lost his chance to have someone he truly wanted as his mate. But she deserved to know, did she not?

He should have come to her first. Instead of going away for weeks on end, he could have come to her, told her to her face that he didn’t want the bond. She would have appreciated that more than… than whatever this was.

But now no one can change the past, or predict the sequence of events to come. It would be of no use to sit and wish for things. The only option Y/n let herself come onto was waiting for him to come home, and then confront him.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

It took two more days for Y/n to catch a stronger whiff of his scent in the house of wind.

Not his lingering scent that had begun to fade as days went on, but one that told her he had been in the exact sitting room she stood in, and he had been there very recently.

It took her barely ten more minutes to find him in the training ring, pummeling a dummy, shirtless and sweaty.

Poor thing.

The dummy looked ready to split at the seams if he didn’t stop, and so she stepped in, clearing her throat.

"Long day?"

He stilled, shoulders heaving. But didn’t turn.

The setting sun cast long shadows over the sand pit, his already large figure looking larger than ever.

"Something like that."

She hummed, crossing her arms and leaning against the archway. "Heard tea helps."

"Not in the mood for it."

A shadow slithered across the ground towards Y/n, but it froze just a moment before touching her boots. Looking up told her that Azrie had turned halfway, his eyes fixed on the rogue little thing.

"What are you in the mood for, then?"

Finally, he lifted his gaze to meet hers, the hazel set ablaze. "To be left alone."

The lazy smile she had fixed on her face faded, and she straightened, tightening her gloves as nonchalantly as she could.

She did not miss the way her chest sang at the way his eyes followed her movements, nor did she miss the barely there intake of breath as she stepped into the ring. "Too bad, I am in the mood for a tussle."

"I’m not fighting you."

"But I will be fighting you."

His brows furrowed. "Same thing."

"No."

He released a breath, sounding oh so exasperated, like he hadn’t tested her patience for a month straight. "Y/n, I really am in no mood to-"

"Well too-" punch "-freaking-" punch "-bad."

She paused, her chest expanding to pull in enough air for the next round of punches she flexed her finger for. He watched her warily, hunched over slightly as he held his bare abs.

He’s half naked.

Not my problem.

Your fantasy, though.

She shook her head, dislodging the thought along with stray strands of hair sticking to her skin as he straightened, his eyes concerned.

"Y/n, what-"

She didn’t let him get another word in before she threw another punch towards his abdomen. This time, he had enough time and instincts to shoot his hand out and hold her fist away from him.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

Her eyes narrowed in on him, the pit of anger in her chest bubbling over, beginning to poison her veins. "What is wrong with me? Me, Azriel?"

He had the decency to look chagrined as he dropped her fist and took a step back, his eyes searing hers.

"I’ll tell you what’s wrong." She mused, her teeth gritted as she took a step to mirror him. Another punch was flying through the air before she could stop herself, snapping his face to the side.

"Y/n, that’s enough-"

Another punch, this time at his pectorals and finally, a tether seemed to snap in him.

His arm came up to intercept her next hit, his eyes alight with fury, and he pushed her off of him, lips twisting in a sneer. "What has gotten into you? Why are you acting like a bloodlusting animal?"

A pang echoed through her chest at his words, her eyes narrowing. "Is that what you think of me? An animal?"

Azriel’s brows furrowed. "What- no-"

Y/n launched herself on him, teeth bared as a guttural snarl ripped through her throat. Before her nails could make contact with his heaving shoulders, though, he had her pinned to the ground, sand clouding the air around them.

For a long moment, she struggled against him, a strangled sound, almost an angry sob, spilling from her mouth. But when the weight on her refused to budge, she stopped, panting heavily as she glared up at him.

Azriel’s gaze remained unwavering as he bore down on Y/n, confusion and fury alike rippling off of him.

"Now, will you tell me like a normal freaking person what bit you, or am I going to have to chain you like a beast and get your brother?"

She scoffed, pushing against his hold, however futile her efforts were. It gave her a sense of satisfaction at the low grunt he let out and that was all that mattered. "Of course, I am, after all, a beast to be chained."

He scowled. "Y/n you need to stop taking everything I say in the wrong meaning. Stop putting words in my mouth."

"Well, if you put words in your own mouth, I wouldn't have to. But you seem to have a talent of hiding away for days on end instead of talking things out."

His brows furrowed. "Is that what this is about? Me going away for barely a month?"

Her brows rose, incredulity taking over the rage that had been blazing through her not a moment ago. "No, Azriel, this is about you tucking tail and fleeing when you really should have talked to me."

Understanding dawned on his features, the shadows cast by the almost set sun making the difference starker. "Cassian told you."

"No one told me sh- anything, Azriel." She huffed, rolling her eyes. "Not even you." Y/n could tell Azriel was beginning to lose his patience, frustration evident in the set of his shoulders, so she hurried to add. "I figured it out myself."

His jaw tightened, a muscle feathering as he pushed himself off her into a kneeling position, head turned away from her.

She scrambled to follow, staring at him accusingly. "What? Nothing to say?"

"Y/n, I don't know-" He sounded so helpless, so lost, that all fight drained out of Y/n. She hadn’t expected him to tell her he wanted her, or even give a good enough excuse as to why he didn't even talk to her about it. She'd already figured he didn't want her or the bond, and she wouldn't have cared. She wasn't going to force herself upon him. But him sounding so dejected, so… heartbroken, it broke something in her too.

"I don't want the bond, Az. But you could have told me…" She trailed off, swallowing when he turned to her, his eyes wide.

"You- you don't?" His voice broke towards the end. Y/n stared at him, wondering if she was misunderstanding the emotions on his face for desperation instead of relief, then shrugged coolly, trying to not let her feelings show, like she always did in emotional situations.

"I mean, if you don't want it, I don't want it. I mean, I get it, why would you want it anyway-"

"Y/n I- I want it."

Her brows rose. "Huh?"

"I do, I really do."

She raised an unimpressed brow. "You really do?"

He scowled. "Yes, Y/n."

"Then why’d you run off?"

"I- I was scared."

She scoffed, undeniable hope beginning to take root in her heart. "Of me?"

"No!" He looked horrified she had even uttered such atrocious words, and slowly, Y/n began to humour the possibility that he really was not playing a sick prank on her. "I- I thought you wouldn’ want it."

She nodded sagely. "And running away instead of just asking me about it gave you answers you needed. Or maybe it gave me a change of mind and made me suddenly like you a lot, right?"

He huffed, looking down at his lap. "You can stop now."

"Of course, I’m too loud for you, right?"

He released a breath, pushing to his feet and dusting off his pants. "I know what you’re trying to do, and it won’t work."

"I am doing nothing but stating what you’re thinking."

He turned to her, looking thoroughly unamused as he extended an arm. "Would you like to sit here and continue bullying me into saying something I don’t want to say, or are you going to come with me and break the news to your brother?"

"I think I’m fine here, thank you." She mused, leaning back on her hands as she grinned up at him.

He remained emotionless, though the corner of his lips ticked up. "Come on, up."

She pouted. "No."

He did not move, and neither did she. Eventually, he gave up and crouched next to her, hands hanging from his knees. "Why not?"

"It’s your job to convince him." She shrugged.

He reached out, and Y/n forced herself to sit still, trying not to move even an inch in case he stopped whatever it was he was doing. She held still as he grabbed a stray strand of her hair between his thumb and index finger, rubbing it. His whole being seemed to be focused on that act, the texture of the strands.

A cool breeze tickled the nape of her neck, sending shivers down her spine and her hair swaying. It seemed to break him out of his reverie, and he lifted his gaze to meet her eyes, molten and soft.

"Y/n, I mean it. I want this, you. Have for a long time."

"How long?" She mumbled, not willing to just accept the confession. But that’s just how she was. And he knew that, and the fact that he still wanted her was beyond her.

This time, his smile grew as he leaned in, his hand dropping her hair and grabbing her jaw instead. "Over a century, if my maths is correct."

She rolled her eyes. "And to think all this drama could have been avoided if you had just talked."

He raised a brow, poking her arm with the hand that wasn’t occupied with holding her face. "It could also have been avoided had you said something."

She lifted her chin. "Why should I? I’m a female."

He snorted, the sound of incredulity so at odds with the gentle swipe of his thumb on her cheek. "So?"

"So, I’m not the one who should make the first move. You should, and yet I had to come here and ask you to-"

"Punch and bully me, you mean."

She rolled her eyes again, moving to push the hand that still poked her arm away. "Whatever I do it always seems like bullying to you."

He said nothing, just tugged her face closer and placed his lips at her forehead.

Blood surged to her neck and face, hot and quick, as he pulled back to smile at her. He gently grabbed her hand and pulled her up so she stood toe to toe with him, gazing down at her with emotions she had never seen in him before.

At least, not for her.

She didn’t know what to do with herself under that gaze. Was her hand placement too awkward? Was her head lifted too high? Was she looking at the right feature on his face?

She could not even begin to let herself think about his words.

Stop, it’s not that serious.

I want this. Want you.

For over a century.

It was unbelievable, so inconceivable, that Y/n could not even begin to process the fact that he did actually reciprocate her feelings, and it was not just because of a sacred bond.

She needed at least days to get herself to take in the information he had dumped on her, and now she understood why he had run off. Especially now that the pull on her ribs was stronger, firmer.

He rested his forehead against hers, blissfully unaware of the turmoil inside Y/n, caressing the skin on her face softly before sighing, the rising moon highlighting the apples of his cheeks and the slight tint of red.

"I’ve been so scared to say anything, thinking you wouldn’t like me back ro Rhys would bite my head off, but now I can say we’re mates and he wouldn’t do anything."

Y/n giggled. "He might still beat you to a pulp."

He chuckled, shaking his head and pulling Y/n into his chest. "Well, getting beat up is still better than being barred from loving you."

Her heart did a silly little jump, but she pulled away to point a finger at him, frowning. "Your flowery words will do nothing to get you out of punishment."

His brows rose in question. "Punishment? For what?"

She turned away. "For making me lose my mind for a month straight, thinking you didn’t want me."

He snorted. "Have you seen you? No male would reject you, not even someone who’s lost his mind."

 She smiled secretly as she proceeded to walk down the stairs, disbelief at how things had turned out and his quiet steps following behind with a sigh. "You’re saying I belong in an asylum with a mental-"

"Y/n-"

"Oh I’ll just shut up then-"

"Y/n."

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

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[moonstruckme]

hi Mae could do a reader with Spencer (or any boy u want!) where she's feeling super nauseous and throwing up a lot and trying to hide it from him like may be it's early on and she feels embarassed? I went out to brunch with a friend and idk what happened but I think I got food poisoning I've already thrown up twice and still feel so so sick

Ugh food poisoning is the worst, but I hope you're over it now lovely! Thanks for requesting <3

cw: vomitting, nausea

Spencer Reid x fem!reader ♡ 1.4k words

Part of you thinks you should cancel. You’re not a very good time right now, nauseated and shaking a little from the exertion of walking from your car to the host’s stand. Spencer deserves a date that doesn’t have to scope out bathrooms like escape routes the moment she enters the restaurant. But oh, he’d been so sweet in asking you. All soft eyes and gentle voice, and he’d sent you the menu to make sure you found something you liked before he made the reservation. You know it can’t have been easy to get, at a nice place like this on a Saturday night. Really, at the end of the day, there is simply no world where you cancel on Spencer. 

You paste on a smile for the hostess, wondering if she’d find it odd if you leaned on her stand for support just for a moment. “Hi,” you say. “Um, I’m meeting someone, I think he’s already…” 

A touch at your elbow prompts you to turn. 

“Hi,” Spencer says. 

You go a bit breathless at the sight of him. Spencer in a suit. His hair still messy as if he ran his hands through it after leaving home, the top button of his shirt open like he had it done up all the way and then felt too constricted. He looks handsome and endearing and nice. Your sundress and half sweated-through makeup feel suddenly, hopelessly inadequate. 

“Hi,” you say back. “Sorry, I thought you’d already be sitting down.” 

“I wanted to wait for you,” he replies simply. He turns to the hostess. “For Reid?” 

As she walks you to your table, it dawns on you what an idiot you are. Possibly the only thing you could do to Spencer that would be worse than cancelling on him would be to show up as you are now. Listless and unprepared for conversation. You’re going to have to order either the smallest thing on the menu or nothing at all, and he’s going to think you don’t want to be here with him. And for yourself, you want to experience this—a first date, with Spencer, and quite possibly your only date—with all the appropriate butterflies and nervousness. Instead, you just feel…tired. And sick. 

“This is really nice,” you say as you sit down. 

“Yeah?” Spencer reaches for the carafe in the center of the table, pouring water into your glass and then his own. “I’m glad you think so. I’ve only been here once, but I thought it was good then, so. I hope you like the food.” 

He spills a little bit of water on the tablecloth, missing his glass. Winces as sharply as if he’d shattered it. Oh god; he’s nervous. You’re going to so disappoint him. 

“Sorry I was late.” You take your water, the cool glass against your hand a relief. “I was…” Well, you were vomiting in your bathroom. “I got a bit tied up on my way out.” 

“That’s okay,” he says easily. “You look really beautiful.” 

You wish you could tell yourself he was only a good liar. You feel clammy, and disgusting, and entirely undeserving of sitting across from him, but it’s all earnestness in Spencer’s puppy brown eyes. 

“Thank you.” Your voice has gone soft with sincerity. “You look very handsome, too. I’ve never…I don’t think I’ve seen you in a suit.”

Spencer smiles, bashful. “I should probably wear them more for work. Most of my team does.” 

“I like what you wear,” you say. “It suits you. Very professor-y.” 

Drinking water was a bad idea. You’ve been too greedy for the cool feel of it going down your torn-up throat; your glass is nearly empty already, and already it wants back up. 

“It would probably be more professional if I dressed like the others, though.” He gives a one-shouldered shrug. Adorable. “I am a professor, but I’m also a profiler, so…” Spencer’s smile slips when you swallow against the nausea tightening your throat. “Are you okay?” 

You press your lips into a smile. “Yeah, sorry. I don’t think there’s anything unprofessional about your regular clothes. I like your cardigans.” 

“They’re not…they’re not unprofessional, I guess, but I…” You can see Spencer’s brain working, his eyes moving over your face as you struggle to appear attentive. “Sorry, are you sure you’re okay? You look uncomfortable.” 

You could almost laugh, if you weren’t feeling so awful. Trust Spencer to tell it like it is. 

“I’m okay,” you say. “Sorry, I’m not feeling great, but I’m fine.” 

“You’re not?” Spencer looks troubled. Sad, puppy brown eyes. 

Oh, and there are the nerves you’d been missing. Malicious, evil butterflies turning your stomach into an inhospitable environment. 

You stand, your chair squeaking against the floor. “I’m so sorry,” you say in a rush. “I’ll be right back.” 

You are not, unfortunately, able to keep that promise. You spend the next twenty minutes kneeling in a bathroom stall, trying to convince yourself they probably keep the floors very clean in a nice restaurant like this while your body rejects the water you had and then several phantom meals it suspects you might’ve had while it wasn’t paying attention. When you finally emerge, Spencer is waiting outside the bathroom with a glass of water. 

“Thanks,” you murmur, taking it from him. You’re wary of repeating your mistakes, but you take a small sip to appease him before simply giving in and pressing the cool glass to your temple. 

Spencer assesses you with his gaze. You resign to it, knowing he’ll have you figured out by now whether you make it easy for him or not. 

“How long have you been sick for?” he asks softly. 

“It’s not contagious,” you want him to know. “It’s food poisoning, I’m pretty sure.” 

“That’s not…what I’m worried about.” Spencer sounds almost hurt, but his touch is gentle as he brings his knuckles to your forehead. “You didn’t have to come if you weren’t feeling well.” 

“I’m sorry,” you sigh. You’re too exhausted to pretend at being anything else anymore. “It was stupid. I didn’t want to bail on you, but instead I’m ruining it.” 

“You’re not ruining it.” His first knuckle moves almost imperceptibly, a tiny caress. “This isn’t your fault. We can do this another time. Did you drive here?” 

“Yeah,” you say meekly. 

Spencer frowns. “Can I take you home? You’re too hot to be driving yourself.” 

He flushes instantly, though you weren’t going to say anything. 

“That’s not what I meant.” 

“I know.” 

“Here.” He guides you to a bench, his hand ever so gentle on your waist. “Wait here, okay? I’ll grab our stuff.” 

You’ve fully given into wretchedness. You have no shame about resting the side of your head against the wall, closing your eyes until Spencer returns with a touch to your shoulder. He’s carrying his jacket and your bag, and the sympathetic look the hostess shoots you says that he’s conveyed you’ll be abandoning your reservation. 

“You don’t have to drive me,” you say as Spencer leads you outside, one hand at your back like he’s afraid you’ll keel over. “I can get home alright. I don’t want to throw up on your nice suit.” 

“I thought you liked my cardigans best.” If you didn’t know better, you’d say he was teasing you. “Anyway, the idea that you could be sick again this soon isn’t consistent with the idea that you could get home alright.”

It’s so him, the way he reasons this out, like he’s outlining an argument you’d never honestly expect to win. It reminds you that you’re on a date with Spencer Reid, and that makes you feel worse. 

You let him shepherd you to his car and sit you in the passenger seat. He buckles his seatbelt, looks over to see that yours is on, and his hand twitches as if it’s going to reach for yours before rerouting to the ignition. 

“Spence…” 

“Hm?” 

“Just, thank you. And I’m sorry, for making us leave.” 

“It’s okay.” He says it so easily, like a given. He does reach for your hand now, his fingers closing over yours to give the gentlest of squeezes. “You don’t have to be sorry. You didn’t ask to be sick.” 

“I’m really sorry I ate that sketchy pasta last night.” 

Spencer laughs. It’s a lovely sound, lovely enough to make you smile despite the roiling of your stomach. 

You say, in a softer voice, “I think it would have been a really nice date.” 

“We’ll find out,” he says surely. “Maybe next week, if you’re not doing anything. We could come back here, or go somewhere if seeing that bathroom again will make you uncomfortable. I know that for some people nausea can be a Pavlovian response. You spent…a long time in there.” 

You stifle a groan, leaning your head against the window and turning your face in humiliation. Spencer’s thumb stroking down the side of your hand makes it all worth it.

[euphoria-looney]

Idk if you’ve seen Nosferatu but I think a situation like that could totally apply to (Name).

Brief overview:

In Nosferatu, the main character Ellen grows up feeling lonely and isolated. She pleads for a supernatural being to arrive and comfort her and she wakes up ‘Nosferatu’ who makes her pledge herself to him fully. There’s loads of other stuff as well but I think this main idea would be interesting. Nosferatu in the movie is really, really old and ugly, but I think (Name) deserves a fit, hot vampire boyfriend/husband. But essentially he’s like a Vampire Count, aka Dracula.

How it’s play out:

(Name),as a young child, calls out for ‘Nosferatu’ (or whatever name the vampire will have) and he wakes up. He makes them pledge their complete loyalty to him for all eternally, essentially making them his ‘bride’. (Name) is comforted by him, but this connection fades as they grow older.

Then, when they turn 18, Nosferatu calls out for them in their dreams and travels to Gotham, keeping them in his manor. He’s basically a yandere in the movie anyway, so (Name) is kept quite weak and docile due to his mind control, spending most of their time doting on him or sleeping.

Now, I think it’d be interesting for the Batfam to react because the thing about Nosferatu is that the oath to him MUST be consensual, give or take MAJOR manipulation, but still, (Name) has to willingly go with him. So the Batfam have to come to terms with the fact that (Name) literally chose an obsessive, undead (but fit) vampire husband over them.

And ‘Nosferatu’ is NOT going to play fair if they try and take his bride. Literally no Dracula variant does.

I Asked For a Friend, But Got a Husband?

"I sense her in my mind, she's my collar" She's My Collar (feat. Kali Uchis)

So Much More. (Should I name this something new? Since it's a different AU?)

Special (?)

Divider Creds: @anitalenia and @qqmariztwsse

Being young, barely seen or heard, I could only busy myself with books. Even then how many books could I read before feeling that loneliness knaw on me?

Okay, dramatic I knew but who knew this one feeling would lead me to immediately get married by the age of eighteen?

I know how bad that sounds, trust me, I was the one who experienced it.

"What are you thinking about right now, honey?" I felt arms wrap around me.

Meet Elzire.

(Cred to this art and oc: @♱⋆༒︎Ren༒︎ ⋆♱/lcttuve)

"Nothing much," I replied looking through our mail.

How we met, well I believe it because of this, but don't take my word for it, I might just be delusional.

I had gone to the library and saw [D/D] she ecstatically waved to me before Damian pulled her away giving me a sneer. I waved that off and looked around before spotting a book that I’d never seen before. 

It had a blood red cover and the title ‘Forever’, curious, I opened it. It seemed like a child's story as they had short sentences and photos. It starts with a girl who, one day after being tired of being lonely prays to the gods of her world she doesn’t care who or what they sent no matter what they looked like or how they acted as long as they were her friends, and nice to her at least, she would be happy.

Then it happened, a boy her age descended to her and every day they would play before growing old together.

The end.

I put the book back before returning to what I was originally doing, studying for my next exam.

— 

It had been a good week since I read that fantasy child’s book, and I couldn’t get it out of my mind. I went to the library at night when everyone was either on a mission or asleep and to my surprise the book was gone.

Someone must’ve thrown it out, there’s no reason to keep it here anyone.

I let out a sigh before heading back to my room and though I accepted the book was gone I couldn’t help but wonder, could I do that?

No, that’d be silly.

But…

It never hurts anyone to try.

“Please, whoever is out there, please accompany me and become the pillar I can lean on.” 

.

..

…

Welp I tried, back to sleep I have a piano recital tomorrow no time for these goofy beliefs.

3RD POV

 A figure descended into [name]’s room their black hair fluttered from the wind and their red eyes and fangs glistened in the dark of night, their hands like claws before stepping into the light a little more revealing a tall yet built man he looked angelic despite being a vampire that was friends with a demon, specially Barbatos.

He creeps a little closer to [name]’s room crouching to caress their faces. Making them blink open their eyes.

“... Am I still dreaming?” They question themself. Making the vampire chuckle holding their hands in his and asking.

“Do you mind becoming mine forever?”

“Woah, my wish worked… sure, why not.” He smiled happily placing one of their hands on his cheeks and relished in the warmth that their hand brought to his freezing complexion.

Before they had passed out.

He caught them before they could slam back onto their bed and gently laid them down.

“Don’t miss me too much.”

—

Holy crap what was that dream? 

Maybe I shouldn’t mind it. 

For the next few years, nothing changed except my dreams. Then I turned eighteen and it was out of pure luck that I met him, his name was Elzire.

We got married that same year after a few months of dating which I was totally against but then he convinced me and it hasn’t been like our marriage has been going great. I don’t like that he wanted me to be a stay-at-home wife.

Don’t get me wrong I appreciate him wanting this for me because he doesn’t want any workload on me but I just feel that it’s unfair for him.

Too bad the only payment he wants from me is to do simple household things but even that he just hires some housecleaning or helpers instead of letting me do it and when he comes home to get his pillow, it’s nice to play with his hair, might be better than mine.

Today again though I’m stuck at home and there’s nothing to do as I finished everything, it’s not hard when only two people are living in this house.

I went to look through the mail before finding a letter addressed to me.

It’s from Alfred, but I had never told him where I moved… It’s fine, this is Alfred we’re talking about.

“Dear young master, [name], 

How have you been? It's been 7 years since we last saw you or contacted you, I managed to get a glimpse of you and was able to deliver this to you.

Your family has long awaited meeting you again, if you could give them the chance to see you that would be lovely.

Sincerely, 

Alfred Pennyworth.”

I looked over my shoulder to Elzire before responding.

“I got a letter from my old butler Alfred, saying that my family would like to meet with me again.”

“So suddenly, darling?” He raised his eyebrow at that. Seems he was as lost as I was. I told him everything like he was my therapist so he knew too well himself why this wouldn’t make sense.

-

Despite my hesitance, I decided to go.

"Really Sweetie, you don't have to this isn't something that I would waste my time on, so neither should you." One hand on the steering wheel and the other holding my hand.

"Come on, El, I'm curious, 23 years of my life and only now do they care to see me. Wouldn't you also wonder why?"

"Wonder, not meet. but because I love you and I care for you we'll still go." He squeezed my hand a bit before softening his grip again.

We pulled up on the driveway and saw Alfred come out of the manor.

Elzire got out of the car first before opening the door for me, helping me get out.

I approached Alfred before bringing him into an embrace.

"Alfie, it's been so long." I pulled away before directing his attention to Elzire.

"This is Elzire."

"Pleasure to meet you, young sir." Alfred did his bow before leading us to the living room where the whole family was.

"[name]" [M/D] whispered, tears welling up in her eye, standing up and starting to approach me.

I smiled but didn't reciprocate the hug she was trying to give me.

"[name], we realized our mistake. it's time to come home." Bruce told me.

"Well, as much as I'm... grateful for that offer, I've already moved on and had a life, where you guys no longer matter or are related to me anymore."

"What are you-"

"This is my husband, Elzire. And I don't plan to leave him, for this."

Guys I quit on this if you couldn't notice the ending was rushed so badly, I'm so sorry to the one who sent the request I know this isn't what you would like but I kind of had a mind exploration, and now I have no idea what or how to write this request.

Maybe I'll rewrite this in the future but for now, this is the main result. If you were looking for a confrontation. It's kind of the situation of this Special.

Genuinely y'all could make your own or imagine this scenario. I have no idea what I'm doing anyway, thank you so much for reading this I don't think I'm tagging anybody on this and supporting other batfam authors, especially with all the hate that I've been seeing Luckily I haven't received anything.

Bye-bye, if anything is too unclear and grammatically wrong inform me!

Elzire:

(Cred to this art and oc: @♱⋆༒︎Ren༒︎ ⋆♱/lcttuve)

-ILoveeeMoney

[bunji-enthusiast]

thought of another request !! (Obviously platonic, love being used in a more parental manner bc yk,, found family)

so, doey is one of the few toys you managed to save and bring back home. He unfortunately has a anxiety meltdown from being outside for the first time in years and reader having to comfort him, talking to him softly and holding him in their lap while he just sobs bc it's so much at once,,

They're like "shh, it's okay, i know, love, i know.."

Idk if that would make sense for a one shot 🙏

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐫

Sypnosis [Being outside for the first time in years can take a special toll on a person, especially if that someone is Doey in particular.]

Character [Doey]

Note || I believe I understand what you mean, correct me if I don’t lol.

The day had been quiet, almost too quiet. The toys, having found their way to your home after months of struggling for survival, were finally beginning to settle in. The factory was far behind them now, the haunting memories of the place slowly fading into the recesses of their minds. The Safe Haven was a place where they could breathe again, feel safe. You, having escaped the nightmarish grip of the factory, had taken it upon yourself to provide for them, to help them heal. You had promised yourself that no matter the cost, you would make sure they were never subjected to the horrors of the factory again.

But even in the safety of this new home, some wounds never healed. You watched as Doey, the plump dough creature, sat at the corner of the living room, his normally playful demeanor replaced by something more distant, more uncertain. His eyes—holes in his head, just faint shadows in the dim light—seemed lost, unfocused. He was far from the carefree toy who had led the Safe Haven group with bravery and kindness. No, this was a side of Doey you had never seen before, and it was clear that something was wrong.

You walked over to him, kneeling down so that you could meet his gaze. He flinched slightly at your approach, and you noticed the subtle trembling in his yellow and orange arms. You had seen toys face the horrors of the factory, but nothing quite like this. Doey had always been strong, calm, a beacon of hope for the others.

But today, that strength had crumbled.

"Doey," you said gently, your voice low and calm, "hey, what’s going on? Talk to me."

Doey's mouth, that simple line of dough, quivered slightly as he took a deep, shuddering breath. He could barely hold it together, his usual bubbly nature drowned under the weight of something far more sinister.

“I... I’m not sure I can do it anymore,” Doey muttered, his voice thick with emotion. It wasn’t like him to sound so fragile, but you recognized the desperation in his tone. “I’ve tried. I’ve always tried... But it feels like no matter how hard I try, I’m just going to fall apart.”

You frowned, reaching out to place a hand gently on his arm. The warmth of your touch seemed to help, though Doey flinched at first. He wasn’t used to being touched like this, not in such a vulnerable state. You could see his struggle, the fear of being broken, of losing himself to the horrors of his past.

"Hey," you said, your voice steady despite the situation, "it's okay. You're safe now. We're all safe."

"But I don’t feel safe," Doey whispered, his eyes downcast, avoiding yours. "Every time I close my eyes, I see... I see them. The factory. The screams. The things I did... the things I couldn’t stop. And now I can’t stop feeling like I’m just one bad thing away from falling apart. What if I’m just a... a toy? A toy made to be broken? What if I’m not strong enough to lead them, to keep everyone safe?"

You could feel the weight of his words, the burden he was carrying. Doey wasn’t just a toy to you. He was a friend, a confidant. His strength was a shield, not just for himself, but for all the toys in the once Safe Haven. And now that shield was cracking.

You knew that the other toys were counting on him, but even they didn’t know the full depth of the struggle he was going through. Doey was made up of the memories and personalities of three children—Kevin, Jack, and Matthew. Each piece of him brought its own light, its own shadow. And while Matthew's kindness and gentle spirit were a dominant force within him, there was also the fiery temper of Kevin, and the deep yearning for something lost within Jack. It made Doey... complicated.

"Doey, listen to me," you said softly, but firmly. "You're not alone in this. You don’t have to be perfect. You just have to keep going. And we’re all here to help you. You don’t have to carry it all by yourself.”

Doey's right arm—yellow and thick—shuddered as he reached up, his hand going to his face, his body folding in on itself as though he could hide from the world. A soft sob escaped him, and your heart ached. You had seen him lead, seen him face danger with a brave face, but this... this was something entirely different. The weight of the factory’s horrors, the responsibility of being a leader, had taken its toll.

"Doey, it's okay to feel broken," you said, your voice trembling just slightly now. "We all have our broken pieces. But that doesn’t mean you can’t still be whole. You’re not just a toy. You’re not just the past. You’re Doey. You’re the one who stood up for all of us. You showed us what it means to keep fighting. And we’re not going to let you fall now.”

Doey looked up at you, his doughy face streaked with tears—tears made of the very clay he was formed from. You could see the conflict in his eyes. The fear of what might happen next. The anger bubbling up from deep within, the fiery Kevin side of him, just waiting to lash out.

But you didn’t let him retreat. Instead, you gently cupped his face in your hands, the warmth of your palms pressing against his cool, doughy skin. “Doey, I’m not going anywhere. I’m here. We’re all here.”

A long moment passed, where Doey simply breathed, shuddering in your hold, trying to steady himself. Slowly, his trembling ceased, his body slowly relaxing into your touch. There was still an undercurrent of fear within him, but you could feel him starting to regain control.

“I... I don’t know if I can lead anymore,” Doey said quietly, his voice still uncertain. “But I... I don’t want to let anyone down.”

You smiled softly, your hand brushing his long orange arm. "You don’t have to lead alone, Doey. We’re all here for each other. Here—it’s not just you. It’s all of us, together."

His yellow and orange arms hung limply at his sides for a moment before he slowly, carefully, wrapped them around you, his stubby red legs shaking beneath him. His embrace wasn’t strong, but it was filled with a sense of quiet gratitude. He was fragile, yes, but he wasn’t alone.

And that was enough. For now, it was enough. You’d be there to help him, just like he had helped so many others before.

"Thank you," Doey whispered, his voice muffled against your shoulder. "I’ll try. I’ll try to be strong. For them. For you."

And as the two of you sat there in the quiet of the room, surrounded by the other toys, you knew that, despite everything, Doey would find his way. Because sometimes, strength wasn’t about never breaking—it was about finding the courage to put the pieces back together when everything felt like it was falling apart. And you’d be there to help him do just that.

[bbina]

you have been avoiding wonbin like the goddamn plague

ignoring all his texts, calls and everything else in between ever since that incident that you've been trying so hard to forget about though somehow his words play in your mind like a broken record. a constant reminder

friends.

you hope that wonbin hasn't caught on with your avoidance but you know better. he knows you like the back of his hand. he's bound to question why you were avoiding him

currently you were hanging out with seunghan at some cafe near the campus

"hm, boyfriend not available?" seunghan says, settling down the drinks on your table

"haha. very funny" you say sarcastically, grabbing your drink from his hands. "how many times do i have to say he's not my boyfriend"

seunghan laughs, "yeah right. my bad i meant the friend that you kiss, isn't available"

you grumbled as you glare at seunghan

"what? it's not a secret, right? i mean you two are practically almost together everyday... until recently" seunghan shrugs, pointing out the obvious

heol.. how did he know?

"just been busy recently. nothing much to it if you're implying something.." you brush him off. if anything it would've been a little better if he would just drop the topic

seunghan watches you for a moment. he can literally see the gears turning on your head as you try to come back with some excuse but he sees right through you

"you know, wonbin has been with chaewon a lot recently" seunghan brings up

your eye twitches at the mention of chaewon. you try to keep your expression neutral in case seunghan decides to stir shit up again

"so?" you raise an eyebrow, "he can hang out with anyone else. i'm literally hanging out with you too" you point out

seunghan leans back on the cushioned seats, sipping on his drink. you were just too damn obvious or maybe seunghan just knows you enough to see through your bullshit

"really?" seunghan tilts his head to the side, giving you a look, "that's all you're going to say?"

your eyebrows furrow. what is he implying?

"what else is there to say? i keep telling you. we're just friends" you mumbled, trying to ignore that feeling in your stomach

the words itself tastes bitter in your mouth

seunghan gives you one more look before he drops the subject

"okay miss girl. if you say so... now lets talk about my project!" he chuckles, grabbing his laptop from his bag. you let out a sigh of relief that seunghan didn't press on much further

now the only thing you have to worry about for now is how much longer can you avoid wonbin

alone together ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 . . . just us two

���─ taking comfort in the thought that you are together in aloneness through late night talks, heartfelt confessions, and a genuine connection. with your shared experience of recent heartbreaks, you wonder if getting together would be all worth it. in which you find solace in each other's company, that you are alone together.

⋆｡˚ prev | next ˚｡

꩜ notes .ᐟ i lowkey feel like this story would be better written type shit but idk

꩜ taglist .ᐟ @onlywonb @rosesfortaro @starwonb1n @wonychu @totheseok @dolloie @hyunjinsnumberonefun @binluvsu @onlyhyunjin @annswwa @wonbinsvlle @hakkkuu @ilovejungwonandhaechan @artstaeh @lecheugo @odxrilove @bunni @saranghoeforanton @nujeskz @nakam00t @kyusqult @nctsshoes2 @s9nwoo @daegale @palchokitty @dutifullyannoyingfox @oshakyao @koryutte @b-riize @meowbini @peterm4rker @winuvs @i03jae @rsatoru @enhacolor @dalliesque @sweetiejaeyun @dearestjake @cupidslovearrows @sasfransisco @kkumistars @sngj08 @taroddori @ennycutie @sa3ha @koeuh @astro-doll-the-star @amouriu

[mangionebabymama]

hey there! it’s “lulu feels too hard” anon back with another mini rant (not really a rant, more like an observation haha)

It’s in the same vein of him feeling emotions hard, but i think one thing that needs to be emphasized in this dynamic is how much he’s tried to subdue his emotions – and i don’t just mean recently. in many clips from his prep school days, like when he’s getting an award for example, you can see him smiling like a bit, but then cutting back to this neutral expression. Funny enough, it’s his eyebrows that always give him away loool. It’s similar to how he acts in the court hearing, full of expression, but then immediately goes back to a stoic, neutral expression. There’s even moments like this in some of the clips from Hawaii.

I guess my point is, how much was he taught to mask his emotions, and put up a front. It seems to me that he was brought up in a collective environment where the saying goes “always put your best foot forward, regardless of the circumstance”. I can understand this, coming from a family with similar values of “you represent the family name, your success is our success.”

i think though, that this seems to be what makes lulu resonate with so many of us: he’s empathetic, despite trying to be stoic. There’s a duality about him – the confident Ivy League scholar and the vulnerable, empathetic people pleasing boy who seeks affirmation one way or another.

but I think under this guise of putting your best foot forward, combined with a sense of always showing your masculinity that many guys of that age are pressured to do (and let’s not forget that for most of his schooling he attended an all boys school so there is that sort of “our boys” culture that’s pervasive in these realms), he had to hide the other part of him which felt so deeply, so hard.

it reminds me of one of his Reddit posts talking about his issues with Brain Fog, and how he initially never thought to talk about it with his friends, and instead masked it under this idea of “oh well, marks don’t matter for computer science majors” even though he was hurting and feeling so disappointed in himself to the point of contemplating dropping out. But the part that sticks out to me the most is what he said after in the post about even if you do end up telling them, if you wait too long, it’s almost like they won’t believe you (or something along those lines). And idk, that’s just such a heartbreaking way to think and it makes me sad for him. He internalized so much it seems. And truthfully, I’m not blaming anyone in his circle (family/friends) because I think part of it was also lulu never wanting to seem weak, which unfortunately clouded his vision of seeing that there were people who probably may have wanted to help. It’s just an all around sad circumstance :(

Sorry for the long write up, don’t feel like you need to provide a long response too! (haha i guess in some ways, i relate to lulu too :)

No, no, please don’t apologize for writing this, you captured this so well! 🥺 I wish I had more to add on, but you literally took all the words out of mine and emphasized on this beautifully.

I also think there’s that duality of having an internal vs. external struggle, where he could easily show and offer empathy towards others like it was nothing, but when it came to himself, it was a completely different story to extend grace. I know he had to internalize a lot, and the physical exertion of carrying all that weight on him had to have shown. I remember somebody mentioning how when he’s in deep thought in some photos, you see all the lines on his forehead—and there’s a lot of them, and once you notice them all crinkled, you’ll never not look at them in other photos. So, he literally has/had so much on his mind.

Reading that part of about his brain fog, about the irony of opening up too soon to your friends, fucked me up, to be truthful. I similarity dealt with this about two years ago, when I experienced two close familial deaths within a month before I started my senior year of college, and I was grieving hard. So many people that I know looked at me and considering my bereavement with the “strong Black woman” trope because I do have a strong personality, and I’ve experienced a lot of hardship in my life, so some felt like that I was gonna be alright, regardless, and kind of brushed off my grief like, “Oh, she’ll be alright, you’ve always managed to go through things” but no, lol. It’s the reality that I think, that many of the “strongest” friends in the group more often than not, face, surprisingly, contrary to belief—it happens all the time. When you’re commended to be a strong, resilient person, people don’t consider you to be weak, as in, you can’t persevere through struggles, but if you do, you’ll be fine, and the suffering won’t take much of an effect on you. But, like anyone else in this world, it still hurts, and it’s still acceptable to just give yourself the space to say that it sucks, and it hurts to be hurting. It’s sort of like, you have that universal perception of what it means to be hurt, but you can’t express that you’re hurt in the same breath.

[sxprot]

KISS ME, KISS ME WITH YOUR EYES CLOSED!!

Sprout X Toon!reader (romantic)

--> Also enjoy random hcs, may be ooc lol as we don't know much about their lore. Thanks to all the writers that wrote about Sprout, ily and you all are my biggest inspiration/p

TW: nothing, just fluff or full of lies, bad grammar since my first language aint english, Reader is gn, idk how to write. This is before the ichor infection

--------

At first, when you are created, you weren't known and never been paid attention by the children and adults. Much to say that you're quite a distant type, even though there's a lot of Toons that's wandering around.

And yet, when your popularity has risen, you haven't found yourself talking to any main cast for long. Any attempts of them trying to strike up a conversation with you, only to be left with disappointment as they received nothing but merely a small talk.

Though, you feel close to common Toons, often seen chatting with them and helping their problems, you were known for your friendliness, of course.

And that seems to catch a Toon's attention!

Now now, first of all, he already saw you! Yes, you are well-known by the audiences, everyone adores you, even bought your merchs, plushies.

But he didn't get a chance to talk to you properly, noticing the way you seem to withdraw from the limelight, even when others tried to talk, you just smile and help their problems, later to be found disappearing after you're done.

So honestly! After getting a chance to meet you, it wasn't any better, actually! Even with a simple baking lesson, Sprout feels a bit awkward. And you, already feeling the anxiety building up inside your chest, only to nod sheepishly when Cosmo asked you.

Exchanging around with many waves and small gesture, you found yourself staying until Sprout left(had to, since Cosmo asked him so). You even go and gasp about it, to which your swirl roll friend shrugs, patting your back as a way to comfort.

And yet, Cosmo insists on inviting you two again to taste out his cookies as a way to get along. Many things has happened, along with your feelings for him.

-----

Okay, onto hcs...

Yk, Cosmo do thinks that you needs to make more friends, actually more like getting along with other main characters. He also thinks this as a good opportunity to lets Sprout makes another friend!

I also thought of Sprout faling first, often asking his friend Cosmo for advices on how to impress you, to which he said that Sprout should focus on being himself. Or maybe starting off with cupcakes and cookies...

The strawberry toon sometimes finds himself in his own reverie, thinking about you accepting his confession...Oh, and some domestic moments as a couple as he took care of you...with his sweet, small little love.

That one time when he was chatting with Cosmo, he suddenly saw you with Boxten interacting with each other. If you noticed his gaze and wave at him, he'd be smiling and returning the gesture back! But sometimes, Sprout would trip and hit the wall when he didn't snap out of his daze.

Imagining him confessing his love with cupcakes. The way Sprout would spent his time decorating it, writing in red frosting about him loving you. And if you accept it, he would be surpised and so happy to see you—happily agreeing to be his partner. He was in cloud nine!

"Thank you." He would said, staring at you with such fondness.

Overprotective, really. Golly, even a small boo-boos could makes him a tad bit worried! How did you managed to get yourself in such state? He would ask and tend your wounds, gentle and slow, simply reminding you to be more careful.

Matching bracelets! You, Sprout and Cosmo would made a matching bracelet for each others, haha.

Of course, you are also the first one to taste his baking, and also the first to witness the chaos when he forgot to turns off the oven, leaving the scene for you both to clean.

I hc Sprout also likes to tease you, like imagining him holding a cookie, alright? He would ask you to open your mouth and say "Aaaaaa" as he slowly twirl(?) his hand like an airplane that's flying.

"Stop it, Sprout! I'm not a kid." "Oh, come on, it's fun!"

Also, like the feeling of him planting kisses on your face? After a long day, he would like to kiss you with a content smile on his face, then yapping about his day.

He is just happy that you're his, and that he's yours. He's forever grateful for have meeting you, for you that's always patient with him, for you that's always there with him. Mwah :)

Oml, sorry if it's too ooc. I'm not a professional at dating nor any romantic...gesture? So writing them out was hard.

[liliasenbyhusband]

Elizabeth Arden and Helena Rubinstein hate fucked

18+

In case it wasn’t clear by the title this is nsfw (especially the second part) so minors dni!!

Before I go on this rant I do want to say that I’ve only seen a couple of clips from this musical and have never fully seen it (if anyone has a link 👀). I do however listen to the soundtrack religiously and I’m a lesbian so I feel that qualifies me and makes me right about this.

Also please note this is about the characters and not the actual people!

Firstly their sexualities just cause I can:

I believe Helena Rubinstein is a lesbian, the only reason she ever entertained men is because that’s what was expected and needed to get where she wanted to get. In If I’d been a man she says “I love only men I can't caress” and that honestly sounds so much like someone experiencing comphet to me. Like only loving men you know you can’t have cause it brings you some solace that you at least still like men??? Of course we also have the absolute obsession with Elizabeth and like nothing is straight about that. On top of all of that in Forever Beautiful she very proudly talks about how Tamara De Lempicka had a crush on her which is also not very straight of her and then there is this little moment in No, Thank You where she talks to mr Paley about his wife that had me question if she’s fucking his wife… ngl… like the way she says “I insist, it’s sapphire, like her eyes” had me going like 🤨 “and how do you know that, ma’am???”.

I find Elizabeth Arden more difficult to place, I’m going to be honest. Of course the obsession with Helena is very fucking gay, it reminds me of the song ‘loathing’ from the wicked musical, so she is definitely sapphic. I believe she does like men as well though, like she was genuinely into her husband, I think. My gut is saying bisexual but with good arguments I could be persuaded of most other sapphic identities as well.

Now for the main event: they fucked.

They were obsessed with each other for half a century... HALF A CENTURY… that is a different kind of loathing like… that is a type of obsession that in and of itself is so fucking sapphic that I can’t even put it into words. Like they live in each other’s heads rent free. And when you think about someone that much, you can’t tell me that you don’t, at some level, want them. Once again think of the song ‘loathing’.. hate and love/lust are not opposite emotions, they are far closer to one another than one might think.

They caused themselves (and their businesses) so much damage just to be able to hinder the other. Imagine hating someone so much you want to make their life that much more difficult and will even shoot yourself in the foot for it. That in itself is so sexually and emotionally charged.. like she really means so much to you that you’d damage yourself just so she suffers too?? If that isn’t the gayest thing you ever heard then idk anymore.

The tension that comes from hating one another so severely and trying to continuously make life harder for the other person can so easily slip into something more sexually charged that you cannot convince me that during a specifically heated argument the sexual tension didn’t become too much for them. So they snapped and just let it all out. It was definitely rough and not pretty, I’m talking clashing teeth, fighting to have the upper hand (I believe Helena ends up winning) and torn up clothes. It would truly bring out their most feral side and any composure and grace they previously held goes out the window.

And once the dam broke the first time well.. let’s just say whenever life got too much and they needed to take it out on someone… their arguments turned into something more carnal.

Now let’s talk about Face to Face because that song is gay as all hell. What do you mean you wonder about what her favourite perfume and artists are??? Like the way they’re singing about one another in this song is the reason I first was like “oh they fucked”.

At the beginning of the song Helena complains about how she’s always been attached to her ‘rival’ but they’ve attached themselves to each other, no one forced them to remain enemies or to continue being petty and make life harder for the other. They could have detached at any point.

Also how they suddenly wanna share their struggles with one another??? GAY!!! And how they suddenly admit that maybe the other person is possibly just as good as they are because why else would they be able to annoy them this much??? SAPPHICS!!!

Now onto stealing each other’s confidant… like there is something so petty and so gay about that like why on earth do you want the person that is closest to her by your side? Is it because you want to get under their skin so badly that you’ll do anything?? Is it because it’s a way to have her closer to you without being closer? Or do you want to gain more knowledge about her??? No matter the answer, the outcome is so fucking gay and most definitely leads to hate sex. Like what do you mean you stole her husband to have as your right hand man??? That is so utterly bizar and is such a messy lesbian move. What are you trying to get to know about her that you need her husband as your right hand man 🤨.

Beauty in the world + the entire finale is so fucking gay. It’s basically like “yeah only us two know about when there was true beauty in the world” and like “we should just stay enemies for business” HELLO??? “Our secret” EXCUSE ME???. Maybe we helped the other survive/thrive??? What kind of gay ass shit????? Helena asking Elizabeth her opinion on her lipstick. The way Helena looks at Elizabeth when she sings “Eyes that glittered like a gem. The lovers we bewitched with them.” They definitely fucked.

“Strange with you I see it all again like new. A glimpse of beauty in the world.” SORRY??? I DON’T THINK ANYONE HAS EVER SAID ANYTHING AS ROMANTIC TO ME AS THIS.

The way they look back so fondly on their rivalry.. it really was a way to cope and survive and blow off steam and you cannot convince me that they didn’t hate fuck to help with that.

After that encounter they had sex one last time and for the first time it wasn’t purely hate filled but there was some softness and fondness there.

And lastly THE WAY HELENA APPLIES ELIZABETH’S LIPSTICK IN beauty in the world. LIKE THE WAY SHE SO GENTLY WIPES IT AWAY THEN APPLIES IT AGAIN?? The first time I saw that I nearly screamed and died. If that moment can’t convince you that they slept together then nothing can.

That’s it’s for now. I wanted to add more clips as proof etc but I can only add one sooo I chose this one

(This rant was inspired by a reaction from @yourbasicqueerie)

[brynnsasha191]

“Rhaenyra's own fans will turn on her”

I’m thinking about Emma’s interview where they outright reject Rhaenicent, this is the first time they have ever done this and I can’t help but wonder if it’s because they’re aware of how fan’s were reacting to Rhaenyra’s character.

Actors don’t live in a bubble, they have access to social media and their PR teams would make them aware of public response.

So Emma would be made well aware that Rhaenyra was losing fans to Jace, her indecisiveness to avenge Luke was turning TB against her, no one was interested in supporting a Queen who didn’t actually want to be Queen etc.

Hell all they’d need to do is check out the dislikes for the Dragonstone scene on YouTube to know just how much the general audience appreciated the Rhaenicent reunion that just a few months ago the writers were bragging about being something fans were dying to see.

It’s probably why they asked for Rhaenyra to use a sword in S3, so she can actually do something other than stand around complaining whilst the men take charge.

If the writers do try to prioritise Rhaenicent over Jace I can’t see Emma supporting it, 2x08 was ironically enough Nyra’s saving grace because she demanded a son for a son, but like previous anon said, if she turns around and chooses Alicent again fans will drop her like a hot potato.

I've honestly decided I don't like Emma or Olivia that much. They are fabulous actors but alas. I firmly believe that Olivia never actually shipped Rhaenicent, and every time she mentioned it and interacted with Rhaenicents had nothing to do with shipping them. I had a conversation with @atopcat about this a little bit ago. Olivia only faked liking rhaenicent because it kept her popular with that portion of the fandom, and then when people were completely done with that and Alicent lost her fan base, Oliva backtracked and started to disavow the ship, by saying she was portraying Alicent like 'she wanted to spit in Rhaenyra's face' and stopping interaction with those fans.

Emma on the other hand was neutral on rhaenicent and didn't mention it much but then when Olivia/Alicent lost their fanbase, they started completely rejecting it in an attempt to save themselves from Olivia's fate. I don't trust Emma or Olivia with writing shit anymore. Emma was responsible for the queer baiting that was the kiss with Mysaria. And Olivia was responsible for the Rhaenicent meet ups. Hot take: actors shouldn't be able to just ask for a scene because this stuff happens. I know Emma is just trying to save their job but it still feels tacky to me

They are both clearly doing damage control. Because Emma probably does know their characters carelessness for her sons is more important than a badly written and toxic yuri ship. Rhaenyra's popularity has been almost entirely transferred to Jace. Because Jace can actually make decisions with crying and throwing a two episode tantrum over it. As the previous anon said, do you know how incompetent you made your leading lady if you left people preferring her 16 year old son over her??? Rhaenyra started losing fans the second they butchered Luke's death, just wanting Aemond's head, which she changed her mind about, when in the book she wanted all the greens dead. She lost more fans when she basically spat in Jace's face about him not wanting to dragonseeds. What finally stopped the leak was when she said a son for a son, which was the first time Luke had been mentioned in a couple episodes.

In the Sept scene in KL, Rhaenyra mentions Luke literally once and not nearly as ferociously as Book!Rhaenyra would've.

I wish I could say I believe the writers and actors will wise up and stop this but I honestly don't. I wouldn't put it past them to completely double down on it and have Rhaenyra chose Alicent over her babies. Hopefully, Emma could see how disliked that is and stop it but idk.

Here's a friendly reminder for the writers: the love Rhaenyra had for her babies was well written in s1! She loved them with all her heart. I have no idea why you changed that for Rhaenicent!!! Go back! Rhaenyra loves her babies. Don't ruin Jace's death the way you did Luke's

[rmbunnie]

Something kinda tasteless about the way that alongside the concerns of "Batman needs someone to rein in his aggression/edginess" (mostly a meta concern,) "Robin is a symbol of undying hope right alongside Batman, Superman, and the police system," and "now that the thought's crossed my mind I think being Robin would be pretty sweet actually," one of Tim's points for why he should be Robin at the end of A Lonely Place of Dying is "we need to show the criminals of Gotham that they can't just kill Robin and expect to get away with it!" Because. They can. That's exactly what happened.

Using that line of reasoning, Tim makes the claim that the idea of Jaybin's life as disposable and inconsequential is heinous and bad, his killing something impermissible, but instead of disproving said idea they allow it to become true and devote their energy to making sure it doesn't become widely known as such. By covering his death up, they actually are permitting his murder to go unaddressed and deeming it acceptable, even taking away the opportunity for it to be consequential to anyone outside of Bruce's inner circle by not spreading the news. As much as we say "oh Bruce was a great dad because losing Jason crushed him" and "he almost considered trying to kill the Joker one time," he in all tangible areas did not do anything about Jason's death. Setting aside the question of killing the Joker or not, it's still shown in Batman Year 3 that Bruce's reaction to Jason's death in the time til Tim showed up was to hide away everything Jason owned and carry on with business as usual, a little angrier. Bruce didn't make any changes or actually evaluate anything in a significant way after the warehouse and Jason's death didn't warrant any tangible consequence, that's evident from reading the comic. I know some may disagree, and I acknowledge the room for interpretation, but in order to discuss Tim's reason we have to concede that it is explicitly written into this specific comic as something Bruce and Tim both recognize as fact, because it serves as the foundation that this reason is built on: there is good reason for the criminals to believe there would no punishment for killing Robin based on the actions Bruce did or didn't take in response. The concern about the public realizing there are no consequences for killing Robin wouldn't be reasonable if it wasn't true, if there actually were.

While they recognize that Jason's death came to pass largely without consequence, the fact itself is less of an issue to both Bruce and Tim than letting criminals actually find out that it doesn't have consequence. They know it's unjust, the notion that Jason can be killed without repercussion (and in making an effort to minimize his murder confirm it to be true,) but their concern isn't for what actually happened to Jason or the lack of proper response. At least on the vigilante side of things, the problem is public perception and continuing to uphold an image of Batman as just and diligent while permitting him to ignore injustice against those close to him. There's no efforts taken to actually disprove the idea that killing Robin would lack impact, what Tim proposes is just making it harder to prove right.

I think the best way to word what comes across tasteless for me here (aside from the side commentary on the unstoppable might of the institution of police and how it's an exemplar of heroism) is that beyond Tim's victim-blaming of Jason during his stint as Robin, (discussed in more depth by people who can word it better than me,) in the base text of a Lonely Place of Dying, it is foundational to the initial premise of Tim as Robin that part of his motive for being Robin hinges on accepting what happened to Jason as something that cannot be allowed in their pursuit of justice or go unaddressed for reasons completely unrelated to the actual harm, and then intentionally erasing the event and the way in which it was allowed and did go unaddressed. No matter how much it's claimed in later comics that Bruce was faultless and Jason doomed himself, Tim's Robin came to be at least in part (in-universe) as a cover-up for the lack of action taken about Jason's death, and by extension as an effort to overwrite his time as Robin and an individual entirely. And thought it wasn't the way his character viewed it, Tim wasn't passively complicit in it or going along with a poor grieving man, the intentional and deliberate erasure of Jason as a murder victim and the injustice of his posthumous treatment was part of his opening pitch.

[lightbulb-warning]

so has anyone figured out WHY there is the Need To Share our Artworks™ or is it just the vibes and our Soul apparently

[longagoitwastuesday]

I keep thinking that this Gojo is just like Sukuna. I truly don't see much of a difference between them beyond the human/curse point of view

[icewindandboringhorror]

I occasionally wish to reach out to old friends/acquaintances I haven't spoken to since high school/some other even earlier time in my life, but I have SOOO little social energy even for required tasks (like making dr phone calls or etc), I never have any leftover for extra ones, and it would be very odd to message someone I haven't spoken to in like 5 years out of the blue but then take 4 entire months to respond back lol.. My natural curiosity with nostalgia/collecting details of the past/etc. (literally if I were born a little earlier I would definitely do scrapbooking or something lol) is very strong, but, alas, not strong enough to beat out the Social Issues Demons apparently

[itshomobirb]

if my parents keep talking to me im going to (remembers that suicide jokes are bad for mental health) go outside and dig a hole to narnia

[sskk-manifesto]

--

[sunsetzer]

On one hand, I want a final fantasy 6 remake, because the game is criminally underrated and the amount of fan content (which is all absolutely fantastic btw) is Not Enough for my neurodivergent, hyperfixating brain.

On the other hand, that would inevitably encourage more people to join the fandom, which would be great, except it seems these days the bigger a fandom gets the more toxic it becomes, and I really like what we have going on over here in our little corner. We all just love the game and its characters and nobody fights about who should and shouldn't date who or who you shouldn't like because they're ~problematique~. Nobody's trying to make one ship morally better than another, nobody's calling anyone names or threatening to doxx people who don't agree with their opinions. It's so peaceful and I love that for us. We're just vibing. Moisturized. Unbothered. In our lane. Flourishing.